#oh well gotta have a place to dump my thoughts somewhere!

[factorialsotherfandoms]

(Happy Ending AU, goes after Fit talks to Pac and Mike)

It's early, too early in Forever's personal opinion. Nothing specific woke him up, however, so he gets to work in his base. He isn't really up to thinking right now, so he simply grabs items from the witch farm and dumps them into barrels - he'll be able to find it later, he's sure.

After ten minutes or so he feels a little more awake and no less alive, and his communicator pings.

Ph1LzA whispers to you: hey m8 u up?

Seeing the message from Philza, Forever's heart skips a beat. He cannot help the grin that sneaks its way onto his face as he types out a reply.

You whisper to Ph1LzA: heeeeey~ do you need me?

Ph1LzA whispers to you: yes

Ph1LzA whispers to you: need a second pair of eyes on something

Any message from Philza is usually enough to peak Forever's interest - they've found a balance now, a comfortable one even, but it's still always wonderful to hear from him.

You whisper to Ph1LzA: I can come over?

Ph1LzA whispers to you: can I come yours i need a break

You whisper to Ph1LzA: always

By the time Forever has walked over to the warpstone, Philza is already there. He seems fine, and isn't carrying anything, just waving with an "'ey mate!"

"Philza!" Forever jogs the rest of the way over. "I knew waking up early was a good idea!"

He didn't, but it seems like one now.

Philza laughs, "appreciated. I've been trying to catch you for weeks, but god am I tired. Here, can we sit somewhere?"

"This way."

Forever doesn't really think before dragging Philza into the witch bar, grabbing a random potion for each of them and the atmosphere. His friend laughs and takes it, though it is quickly swapped for water instead.

Forever checks the cupboard. Potions of harming. Oops.

Still, Philza doesn't bring it up, just pours the water into a shitty cup and taps a nail against it.

The longer it goes on for, the more worried Forever gets.

"Is..." he hesitates a little. "Everything okay?"

"Just haven't been sleeping well," the words come with a yawn and a stretch. "I'll head back after this. Just gotta... This might sound really dumb, okay? I need you to tell me if it sounds dumb. Because I'm about at the point of asking Cellbit for help working this shit out, and I do not want to send him on a wild goose chase."

Those words really do not help Forever's worry. Still, he nods, and plasters a grin to his lips, "you could never be dumb, Felipe."

"Oh I can be plenty dumb. Do it all the time," Philza laughs a bit, but it tastes sour. "Anyway, the plan. Fit didn't laugh me off, and Missa actually gave me an idea. But, the idea's still a few bone short of a broth, and I'd tell you anyway, and well... Yeah."

"Yeah?" Forever considers the two people. It's... Whatever this is, it's not going to be related to why Philza is so tired and so strained - that's okay, he'll try again another time, for now he just wants to hear what he is being trusted with.

"Before I start... I trust you, okay? You can tell whoever you like about this, but you've /got/ to be sure they won't let it get back to the Feds - even if its via other parties. My judgement's shit on this, so I'll trust you with that."

Philza pauses, clearly waiting for a confirmation. Forever also pauses, then nods back - tries not to think about those words so casually said, the trust and the faith and the hope placed in him.

"And I know you've got a lot on your plate, so I really do just need you to tell me if I've completely lost the plot," there's something haunted in Philza's eyes with those words.

"I know, Philza," Forever flicks the name with his tongue, playing with it in his mouth. "I will. What do you need."

"Okay. So," Philza pauses after just those words. "For a bit, I've had this idea, right? Half of us don't have lives we can take the eggs with us, and nobody wants to get split up after. So? What's the point in escaping? Other than being free of the Feds. And I'm pretty sure some people will keep the Feds to keep the community. My thought then is, what if we don't /have/ to loose the community? What if we find an uninhabited world and rebuild our lives together there? Can bring the eggs, get unlimited respawns for everyone, portal through to the hubs so everyone can come and go..."

"Could it work?" Forever's mind is thinking. "It'd need a strong foundation, and a patron... I think? Worlds aren't really my strong point."

"But they are one of mine," Philza grins. "I should be able to hold it myself, for a month or two, even with fifty inhabitants. During that time, I can get in contact with my wife - she's a goddess so she should be able to hold it longer. If she agrees. And if anyone else knows anyone who'd help out, well, having Death as the only influence is probably a bad idea anyway. Forgot to mention that bit to Missa, probably should have, but details there can be worked out later. Need the rest of a plan first."

"Like the actual escape part?" Forever asks, not wanting to interrupt, but seeing Philza starting to doubt himself.

Philza nods, then frowns, "kinda? I have half an idea, but it needs stuff we don't have."

Forever's ears twitch up, "like?"

"My wings," Philza shakes them, hesitating a moment before pressing on. "I'm still not sure how to get the rest of you out, but... If I had them, I could get out, scout, maybe find help?"

Everyone has heard Philza complain about his wings, but few have seen the damage to them truly. Forever isn't sure how bad it is, but he's not even sure he could tell if he saw them.

And then Philza is, somewhat nervously, taking off his backpack, and then the cape which hides his wings. Nervously he unfolds them, and lets Forever see.

Gently Forever reaches out, running a hand down snapped feathers. They themselves are broken - far more of them than would be needed to ground Philza, every single one is cut in half or further - and the flesh beneath... In spots where the feathers are plucked, the skin is angry and raw. Under everything it is uneven, heavily scarred and warped like entire chunks were ripped away.

And the shape, when he looks... Philza's wings are different shapes, the bones of one - maybe both - snapped and regrown out of alignment.

"You just said clipped," Forever whispers. "This is..."

Philza shuffles uncomfortably, "they are clipped."

Forever doesn't wait longer. He opens his arms, and captures Philza within them. Squeezes his friend, holds him close, holds him tight.

"Does it hurt?" he asks.

"Sometimes."

There's a lie in Philza's eyes and the way he holds Forever a little tighter. Always, then, and Forever's fragile heart snaps again.

"Are they..." He hesitates. "Can they even be fixed?"

Philza turns and looks at his wings, shuddering at the state of them, "the feathers will be replaced in a few months, but last time the Feds came and clipped them again. The rest..." a hesitation. "Yes."

"How?" Forever demands. "How do I help you?"

"The End," Philza shakes his head a little. "The End would heal them... Maybe surgery, or some magic, but... When I've hurt them before, I've always returned to The End."

Forever wants to ask, he desperately does, to know why the End would heal Philza in a way nothing else can. He doesn't, though, he does a look struggling to stay present well enough. Instead he starts thinking - as President he doesn't really have the power to do anything, let alone to demand Philza be permitted to visit the End. There's no doctors here, and their closest thing to a witch is Cellbit...

There are tools Philza is unfamiliar with, though. Maybe... Philza's knowledge of the natural world is incredibly - Philza is incredible - but Forever knows he is less capable in the hands of redstone and machines. Perhaps, perhaps...

But no, not yet - speak to the other engineers first, at least. It's just a case of knowing who would keep Philza's trust. Pac and Mike, perhaps, they'd enjoy the challenge.

"And once they're healed, what would you do?" Forever asks.

"Fly," Philza says it like that word holds the hope of humanity and the life of the worlds in its hands.

"I meant about escaping and making us a home," Forever teases.

"Oh," Philza snaps back. "Yeah, that, um. So if I could get to the End I could just jump off and into the void, get out that way. Otherwise... There's a trick, with tnt and the bedrock. You know it?"

"Yeah, but..." Forever hesitates a bit, and he feels Philza emotionally close in the silence. "That's a one way ticket to death."

"Nah," Philza softens again. "You worried about me, king? I'll be fine."

"It's the void!" Forever objects. "You need a train, or a boat, or - or some protection! Otherwise you fall and you die."

"Hence the wings."

"Won't you suffocate?"

"Not if I'm careful; I've done it before."

Forever thinks in horror of the idea at Philza flying through the void, lacking in air, scorching himself. He grabs Philza's face, checks it - checks him - for scars from the void, for the pain it must have caused.

Philza's hands gently close over Forever's, "I'm okay, mate; it's not a method I'd recommend to anyone else. Wouldn't risk it carrying one of you, either."

Fuck, no, Philza definitely shouldn't.

Forever goes to object, but then he remembers... The End. Philza's insistence such a place could heal him. If - if - that is true, if Philza hasn't been madder than they thought this entire time... Then perhaps the void would love him as his own.

Calls into doubt if those are crow wings, however. Not that Forever could tell - he's never met a crow.

"You'll be careful?"

"I don't even have my wings, mate, it's only theoretical."

"You promise?"

"Alright," Philza relents. "I'll be careful, I promise."

Forever searches Philza's face for a lie, and finds none. Instead he grabs another bottle from the witch bar - this one on purpose, experimental painkillers. He gives it to Philza who looks confused, but doesn't even sniff it before he downs the bottle.

"So your plan is... Beg the Federation for wing surgery, blow a hole in the bottom of the world, fly in the void, find us a new place to live together... somehow get the rest of us out, then we're happy and free?"

"When you put it like that, it's really not much of a plan, eh?" Philza laughs a bit, that awful laugh that means he hates himself. "I guess... back to the drawing board. Missa was just talking about me being able to fly away if they healed, and I remembered maybe I actually /could/, you know?"

"It's not... The worst plan," Forever hesitates, considers a bit. "I would help. Don't beg the Federation, though, we're better off studying. If you did..."

"Yeah, I know," Philza pulls a face. "I just don't know where else to go."

"Try Cellbit," Forever shrugs. "He has so many books. Maybe one has an answer?"

"You think its worth bringing this up to him, then?" there's almost hope sparked in Philza's eyes. "It's not really like any of its actionable."

Forever nods rapidly - he knows Cellbit, and knows him well. He can see the hope fading, his friend being crushed by a torment without end. It's only half a plan - not even half of a plan, really, missing every key component possible - but it is hope. It is someone promising an after, one where, maybe, they can all be... happy.

He can't say that, though, so instead he grins. "He's already working on getting us away, why not join forces?"

"Ah, then I'm sure he has better ideas," Philza laughs again. "He always does."

"At least let him know he's not alone in trying?" Forever suggests. He knows Philza, he knows Philza, now he just has to convince him that, yes, talking is the correct plan. "He might like bits of your plan. And he can show you where to help on his."

"I guess I can carry his backpack and get his notepaper for him," Philza says. "... But you really think the plan is good enough to share?"

"I think Cellbit will appreciate knowing about it," Forever says, because the plan is missing parts, and it's so dangerous, and his eyes are still watching Philza's wings. "Do you brush those?"

"Brush... Huh?" Philza twists, and looks at his wings. "Oh, right, no? It's called preening. Like..." Philza twists further, further than a person should, and starts using his fingers and a needle to clear muck from his feathers. "Like this. Fit helps me with the bits I can't reach - or Missa or Wilbur or Chayanne, but Missa and Wilbur work and... I don't really want my toddler having to do it, you know?"

"I could learn," Forever offers. "If... If that's not too forward?"

Philza hesitates a moment, then plucks another needle from a pouch and extends his wing.

"We start where I can see you," Philza gestures to the soft, mutilated underside. "And... Maybe somewhere more private?"

It's not just about helping, though Forever wants to help - Fit is around so often he doubts Philza would ever need Forever's help. But, if he's going to make something... Then he his research done.

"You don't want the witches watching?" Forever teases, already getting up. "What a prude. Come downstairs, then, we can use the couch."

Philza gets up to follow, "are you sure you want to learn? It's kinda fiddly."

"Of course!" Forever replies. "Who wouldn't want to brush your beautiful wings!"

"Preen," Philza sighs. "You- never mind, let's just get somewhere comfy. It'll take a while."

"That's okay," Forever says. "I don't mind."

'If it's you' he doesn't complete it with - it's true, though. He might not be after Philza any more, but he does love him. He loves all his friends, the eggs, the islanders... But no matter what, Philza is always a little special. it's not burning passion any more, but it's there. It's there, and it always will be.

He wants to help. Forever can see a problem and a solution that hasn't been tried. Between him, Pac, and Mike, he's sure they can make Philza some sort of flying aid - he just needs to know better the shape his wings are in.

It's not even about the escape, the new home, with Richas, with everyone, the reward that could be promised to him if he assists... It's about a bird who is probably not a bird, and two broken wings, and an open sky.

It's about the fact Forever loves his friends, and one is hurting, and if he can help... Why wouldn't he?

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp philza #qsmp forever #forever you ran right off the rails what the fuck did you do #happy ending au

[moonjxsung]

hi star my little moonlit angel 😔💖💖

aa im having like the most stressful week and idk where to talk abt it so i hope you dont mind me dumping for a sec :((

exams are killing me rn and idk if its finals week or my final week cs holy shit i am dying 😭😭

ive been pulling all nighters trying to get all my projects and group studies done and my exams are DEF not helping in my case and idk if ive even been eating properly there's probably a spoiled banana from last week in my bag somewhere atp 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️ (im going mentally insane)

i havent even properly been on tumblr in a while and my social media is blowing up w notifs and dms from friends and ive been too busy to check it either tbh

honestly im hoping itll all turn out well by next week cs is my winter break 🤧

on another note i wanted to dump on my exes when all your anons were doing it but i was too scared to but now i genuinely need to tell u abt this because umm

my fwb is like a super nice guy and ive been friends w him for a while but i recently found out hes rlly good friends with one of my exes ⁉️

basically i asked (my ex) out once and he said yes and i thought we were chill but a few friends ended up asking him if we were dating like two days later without asking me for confirmation first and he said no.. (??)

i assumed he js didnt want like a too public relationship with everyone knowing so to clarify i asked him what was up and he said he ended up having second thoughts on me because his friends called me a red flag and he doesnt like the fact that i have guy friends and im close with them.... (💀💀)

so then i said oh okay..? 😭 and was over it but almost a month later he asked me out and atp he just gave me the icks so i made an excuse saying that i wanna focus on academics and not do anything relationship wise and he said he would wait 😭😭 (he in fact did not pick up the hint!)

then a little over month later he asked me out AGAIN and i said no i dont think i like you anymore sorry and he said oh that's fine and i thought we were chill??

a week later my messages BLEW UP one day and my guy friends were all snitching on him telling me that he's gong around slutshaming me and talking shit abt me for no reason and he said i was desperate and asked him out 3 times when he said no and he was never interested in me in the first place.. and then proceeded to sexualize my body and say weird ass shit abt it to everyone and they believed that i was a desperate whore or smth 😭

this happened a year ago but i was walking down the halls around a month ago and i saw him with his friends so i just rushed past

and his friends were like "oh isnt that the bitch who liked you?" and i heard him say "oh yeah she liked me like a year ago" and then proceeded to sexualize me while i was right fucking there but i dont even want any more drama w him so i dont bother saying anything back or leaking messages or wtv i js hope karma gets back at him 😭

and now idk if i should tell my fwb abt this?? or maybe it doesnt really concern me but it bothers me that hes hanging out with a guy like that and im conflicted on what to do

its not like i have the right to tell him who to be friends with either so 🤷‍♀️

what should i dooo

-《as always, your occasionally appearing but always stalking ☘ annonie》

(p.s. do you have any spotify song reccomendations 🥺🥺)

much lovee

Pooooookie you can always vent here ily ily :(

I’m so sorry to hear you’re stressed from exams :(( I’m rooting for you okay !! Please make sure to eat whenever you can (even if it’s something small!) and stay hydrated :( what’s the use of doing good on finals if your body gives out on you :(

No I feel u on the social media thing I get SO stressed when I have DMs or texts or whatever I just flat out don’t check them. I think I have 200 unread texts rn (it’s been around 1000 at some point) and I know im such a shitty friend but I just cannot respond to them 😭😭 I gotta put me first you guys

WINTER BREAK NEXT WEEK THOOO hang in there baby it’ll get better soon 🥺🫶🫶🫶🫶

OH MY GOD???? Pookie that’s fucking disgusting I’m so sorry you’re dealing with men like that rn???? I had a veryyyy similar situation with a guy who my friend tried to set me up with at a party who kinda liked for a little bit and then when I said I was comfortable being in a relationship he started slutshaming me to everyone under the fucking SUN and apparently he had a discord group where I was just CONSTANTLY the topic of conversation and when I heard about it I cried so hard ☹️ in my case I also had people who were friends with him and I voiced to them that it made me severely uncomfortable. Like the people in my life should know about the people who wronged me (especially if I’m sleeping with them??) and it just made me feel safer. It’s obviously up to you but I would probably tell him just so that he knows that’s someone you’re weary about and you don’t feel safe around ☹️ your safety and your wellbeing is the most important thing pookie ☹️ keep me posted if you need anything at all okay I love you lots and I’m sorry you’re going through this ☹️🫶

Song recs song recs yes here are some I’ve been listening to on repeat all week (there’s only like one kpop song in there but it’s my fav kpop song of all time so TRUST it was gonna make it to the list) I’ve been listening to Glass Animals, TV Girl and M83 on repeat for the entire year I think 😭😭

I love you endlessly okay keep you chin up better days are coming for us !! 🫶🫶🫶🫶 soon it’ll be winter break and you can just sit back and drink hot chocolate and tell me all about it and say you lived through it. Hang in there my love

#☘️ anon #ask

[aspenmissing]

𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

An attractive young woman comes out of the back with some papers in her hand. Dean turns to face her as she speaks. He is dressed in a dark suit.

"So, what's it like, being an FBI guy?" The woman asks.

"Well, it's dangerous. And the secrets we've gotta keep, oh. God, the secrets. But mostly it's, it's lonely"

"I so know what you mean" Dean nods sagely.

"Yeah" Elsewhere in the store: Sam, also dressed in a suit, with slicked hair, and Theo, dresses in a white blouse, pants and jacket, hair tied up in a messy bun, are interrogating the manager, a middle-aged man.

"Helena was our head buyer. She... she was family, you know? She said it herself, every year at the Christmas party. She said we were the only family she had" he says.

"So, there were never any signs that she'd do something like this?" Theo asks.

"No. Still can't believe it, even now. That night, Helena came back to the store after closing. Cleaned out all the display cases, and the safe. Edgar- our night watchman-he caught her in the act. He didn't know what to do, he'd known her for years. He called me at home"

And that's when she took his gun?" Sam says.

"She shot him in the face. I heard him die. Over the phone"

"Any idea what her motive could have been.

"What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewellery, and then what? Just dump is somewhere, just hide it, and then go home and-"

==

"She killed herself?" Dean asks.

"Well, the cops said. She dropped the hair dryer in the bath and fried herself. They should know, right"

"Yeah. Well, thanks Frannie, I think that's all I need"

"Really? Because I've got more. You know" Frannie looks around slyly "If you wanted to interview me sometime. In private?" Dean eyes Sam and Theo guiltily across the room.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You're a true patriot, you really are. Why don't you write your number down there for me, that'd be good"

==

"So, you never saw the security camera footage yourself, then?" Theo says.

"No. The police, they took all the tapes, first thing" Dean approaches.

"Yeah, of course they did" He waves Frannie's number at Sam and Theo.

==

Leaving the jewellery store, Sam, Dean and Theo drive down a dark street and pull up in front of a small house.

"Five--this is it" Theo says.

"Friggin' cops"

"They're just doing their job, Dean"

"No, they're doing our job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it. Talk to me about this bank" They get out of the car and approach the house.

"Um, Milwaukee National Trust. It was hit about a month ago"

"Same M.O. as the jewellery store?"

"Yep, inside job, longtime employee, the never-in-a-million-years type. Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide" Theo says.

"The guy Resnick, he was the security guard on duty?"

"Yeah. He was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place"

"God" Dean says.

"Yeah" Sam knocks on the screen door "Mr. Resnick? Ronald Resnick?" A bright floodlight turns on, and they shield their eyes.

"Son of a-" A youngish man comes to the door warily.

"FBI, Mr. Resnick"

"Let me see the badge" Sam, Dean and Y/N pull out badges and slap them against the screen door in unison. Ronald squints at them carefully.

"I already gave my statement to the police"

"Yeah, listen Ronald, um...just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on"

"You read it?" Ronald asks.

"Sure did" Theo says.

"You come to listen to what I've got to say"

"Well, that's why we're here"

"Well. Come on in" Ronald opens the door and leads them through a narrow hallway to a cluttered room; the walls are covered with alien photos and conspiracy theory paraphernalia "None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. Uh, they all thought I was crazy. First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That, I guarantee. See, we and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts, and we'd play cards"

"So, you let him into the bank that night, after hours" Sam says.

"The thing I let into the bank...wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face. Uh, every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like If a dollmaker made it, like I was talking to a bug Juan-doll"

"A Juan-doll?" Theo says doubtfully.

"Look. This wasn't the only time this happened. Okay?" Ronalds says handing Sam a file folder "There was this jewellery store, too. And the cops, a--and you guys, you just won't see it!" Sam looks in the folder; it looks like a Hunter's profile of the jewellery case "Both crimes were pulled by the same thing"

"What's that, Mr. Resnick?" Theo asks. Ronald picks up a copy of a magazine called 'Fortean Times' and holds it to his chest. The headlines at the bottom reads 'Birth of the Cybermen'

"Are we living in Doctor who or something" Theo mutters to herself.

"Chinese’ ve been working on 'em for years. And the Russians before that. Part men, part machine. Like the Terminator. But the kind that change itself, make itself look like other people" Dean smirks.

"Like the one from T2"

"Exactly! See, so not just a robot, more of a, a, a, a... Manroid"

"A Manroid?"

"And what makes you so sure about this, Ronald?" Theo asks. Ronald holds up a finger, smiling a little wildly. Later, Ronald inserts a VHS tape into a player.

"See, I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them, they'd be buried" Dean nods "Here" Ronald fast-forwards the tape "Now watch. Watch. Watch him, watch, watch! See, look! Th-, th-, there it is!" Ronald pauses the tape "You, see? He's got the laser eyes" On the tape, Juan is facing the camera with a light-flare in his eyes. Sam, Dean and Theo share a knowing look "Cops said it was some kind of reflected light. Some kind of 'camera flare'. Okay? Aint no damn camera flare. They say I'm a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me, it doesn’t matter!" Theo eyes him cautiously as he continues to rant. "The Mandroid is, is still out there. The law won't hunt this thing down -- I'll do it myself. You see, this thing, it, it, it kills the real person, makes it look like a suicide, then it sorts of, like, morphs into that person. Cases the job for a while until it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening. Now, these robberies, they're, they're grouped together" Ronald gestures at a map on the wall "So I figure the Mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle, underground, maybe. I dunno, maybe that's where it recharges its, uh, Mandroid batteries" Dean nods, apparently impressed. Sam and Theo stares intently; they both stand.

"Okay. I want you to listen very carefully. Because I'm about to tell you the God's honest truth about all of this" Dean and Theo smiles, waiting to see what Sam says "There's no such thing as Mandroids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. Just people. Nothing else. You understand" Dean and Theo look at each other as they try to keep a straight face, but the two are clearly startled. Sam starts to say something.

"The laser eyes" Ronald says desperate.

"Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick, I know you don't want to believe this. But your friend Juan robbed the bank and that's it"

"Get out of my house! Now!"

"Sure. First things first" Theo frowns at Sam in further confusion.

==

Sam, Dean and Theo return to their motel room, which has the obligatory Tacky Wall Decorations. They're dressed in ordinary clothing again.

"Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up. I mean, you say that poor son of a bitch that -- what did you say, remand the tapes that he copied? Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation?" Theo laughs "That's messed up" Sam sits down to watch the tape.

"What are you, pissed at me or something?"

"Nah, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a Fred you are. I mean, come on, we could have at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here"

"Manroid?"

"Except for the Manroid part. I liked him. He's not that different from you or me. People think we're crazy" Dean says.

"Yeah, except he's not a hunter. He's just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing he'd get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark, and stay alive"

"Yeah, I guess" Dean places tracing paper over the map and starts marking it with a red pen as Sam pauses the tape on the flaring eyes.

"Shapeshifter. Just like back in St. Louis. Same retinal reaction to video" Theo says.

"Eyes flare at the camera. I hate those friggin' things"

"You think we don't?" Sam says.

"Yeah, well, one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder" Dean is tracing a pattern on paper of the sewer system.

"Well, look. If this shifter's anything like the one who killed in Missouri"

"Then Ronald was right. All right, they like to layer up underground, preferably the sewer. And all the robberies have been connected so far, right?"

"Yeah"

"With the, uh, sewer main layout. There's one more bank lined up on that same sewer main" Hours later, the three arrive at the bank. A security guard leads Sam, Dean and Theo, now uniformed as Security serve Guard Service technicians, down the main hall.

"Well, we haven't had any flags go up on our system yet" The guard says.

"No, this is a glitch in the overall grid. We just want to make sure the branch monitors are kosher" Y/N says.

"Well, better to be safer than sorry, I guess"

"That's the plan" Dean says. The Guard opens the door to an observation room with several TV screens showing security footage.

"All righty. You guys need anything else?" The guard asks.

"Oh, no, no, we'll be, uh, we'll be in and out before you know it, just a routine check"

"Okie-dokie" the guard leaves

"I like him. He says 'Okie-dokie" Dean says.

"What if he's the shifter?" Sam says.

"Well, then we follow him home, put a silver bullet through his chest plate" Theo says. They sit down to watch the screens.

"Okay. Well, you got any popcorn?"

"Or beer?" Theo asks. Later, the three are still reviewing the screens; the Guard is on one, and his eyes are normal.

"Well, it looks like mister okie-dokie is...okie-dokie"

"Maybe we jumped the gun on this, Guys. I mean, we don't even know it's here" Dean seems distracted.

"Mm-hmm"

"Maybe we should just go back to the sewers and... and..."

"...and he's not listening" Theo says. Dean is zooming one of the cameras in on the ass of an attractive young woman who is bending over.

"Dean, we're supposed to be looking for eyes" Sam says, exasperated.

"I'm getting there"

"Oh yeah?" Theo says.

"Wait a minute" On another screen, a middle-aged man turns towards the camera; his eyes flare "Hello, freak"

"Got him" Sam and Dean heads for the door, but Theo lingers behind, looking at another screen.

"Guys!"

"What?" The two ask in unison. They watch as Ronald scurries up to the outer door with a chain and a padlock, chaining the door shut.

"Hello Ronald" Theo says. Later, Sam, Dean and Theo walk down a hallway towards the main hall; a few panicked people brush past them, running the other way.

"And you said we shouldn't bring guns" Dean says.

"I don't know this was gonna happen, Dean"

"Just let us do the talking. I don't think he likes you very much, Agent Johnson" Theo says. In the Main Hall of the bank, holding up a key.

"Now, there's only one way in or out of here, and I chained it up. So, nobody's leaving, do you understand" The siblings enter.

"Hey, buddy. Calm down. Just calm down" Theo says.

"What the-You! Get on the floor, now" Ronald says, pointing the gun at the three.

"Okay, we're doing that. Just don't shoot anybody, especially us" Dean says, as the three kneel on the ground.

"I knew it. As soon as you three left. You aint FBI. Who are you? Who are you working for, huh? The men and I guess woman in black? You working for the Mandroid?"

"We're not working for the Manroid!" Sam shouts.

"You, shut up! I aint talking to you. I don't like you" Theo huffs a laugh and Dean gives Sam an' I told you so' look' "Fair enough" Ronald turns to one of the hostages.

"Get on 'em. Frisk them down, make sure they got no weapons on them. Go!" A middle-aged black man goes over to Sam, Dean and Theo and frisks them; he finds two knives in Dean and Theo's boots.

"Now what have we here?"

"Oh my, how did that get in there?" Theo says, smiling sheepishly.

"We're not just gonna walk in here naked!" Dean shouts on Sam's look. Ronald takes the knives.

"Get back there" he tells the hostage and drops the knives in the deposit box. They clatter.

"No, no, no, no, no!" The twins say in unison and wince.

"We know you don't want to hurt anybody. That's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around, and why don't you let these people go?" Dean says.

"No! I already told you. If nobody’s gonna stop this thing, then I've got to do it myself"

"Hey, we believe you! That's why we're here" Dean says and Theo nods.

"You don't believe me. Nobody believes me! How could they?"

"Come here" Theo says.

"What? No"

"You're holding the gun, boss, you're calling the shots. I just want to tell you something" Ronald approaches cautiously and leans in "It's the bank manager"

"What?" Ronald asks.

"Why do you think we've got these getups, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager. We saw his eyes"

"His laser eyes?"

"Yes. No. No! No, look, we're running out of time, okay? We've got to find him before he changes into someone else" Dean says.

"Like I'm gonna listen to you. You're a damn liar" Theo stands cautiously, hands out "I'll shoot you! Get down!"

"Take me. Okay? Take me with you, take me as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast. Because the longer we just sit here the more time he has to change" There is a short pause "Look at me, man. I believe you. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank" Dean and Sam look at her as if she is crazy.

"All right. You come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault!" The other hostages gasp and cry. Later, Ronald ushers the hostages, including Sam and Dean, into the vault "Come on, move, move! Move, move!" Ronald turns to Theo "And you lock it up" Theo starts moving the heavy door shut.

"It's okay, everyone. Just stay close" She shrugs at Sam and Dean in apology; Dean swallows unhappily and Sam frowns at her; Theo slams the door shut.

#supernatural #older sister winchester #oc insert #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom

[takalzuoom]

Hi! I really enjoyed your headcannons about Leona and Riddle as reader’s besties. Can I please request best friends hcs for Vil and Malleus?

Omg I’m writing this in English

But I’m so glad you enjoyed the riddle and Leona scenarios 🙈

Oh my god i literally loved writing this like- this is probably one of my favorites to write, i’m sorry for the wait but tysm requesting 🙈

May have overindulged in malleus… 😺

𝐕𝐢𝐥

oh my god

Even if you're nice i can immediately imagine the plastics

HE INVENTED THE BURN BOOK

With you vil (and sometimes) rook, you're unstoppable and cause people to have nightmares

In order for you to even be seen together, you have to have pride in your appearance, But if you have opposite aesthetics,i think you’re gonna have to be pretty tame cause if you get a little too … wild, he’ll literally bully you💀

But other than that- he's an absolute menace- like he’d absolutely throw away your lunch, look back at you and smile saying ‘you’ll thank me for this later’

IF YOU TRY GIVING HIM A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET HE’LL ‘SMILE’, CHUCKS IT SOMEWHERE, AND APPEAR WITH MATCHING LUXURY BRAND BRACELETS CLAIMING ‘ i won't have that fake metal touch and ruin my skin. You're welcome by the way’

You never knew what happened to it, but once you see it sitting prettily on his vanity, you know the gesture meant a lot to him

Okay listen- you literally become his emotional support friend

He won't go anywhere without you😭 that's only if you’ve been friends for super long and know him- like really know him

(Your relationship reminds me of me and my sisters, her constantly calling me into her room to hang out while she does whatever with hair and makeup while I’m on my phone talking to her)

Though some people point out that you're basically his assistant, you both know that's just chatter as Vil trusts you immensely.

Cause he’s someone who solely believes that you should do important matters yourself, but he’s let his guard down and let you lighten his load a bit

(That’s an unspoken indicator that you values you far more than you’d ever know)

The industry is hard and you can’t trust anyone- so knowing youre there in his corner, or even there in general relaxes him a bit, though its very uncomfortable at first

He may appear to be a diva, but even he sometimes gets caught up in his head.

While i dont see him skipping meals, he will calorie count

And if it’s a bad day / week, I can see him freaking out if even one minisquill of pigment is out of place. He’ll probably throw his things on the floor and grip at his hair as he refuses to cry.

He has a lot of pent up rage so 😿

You will definitely have to keep an eye on him. Don't confront him in public or else he will point out your flaws, bringing the unwanted attention to you

��Stressed? Potato are you feeling well? You don't look… heh, well as you do usually “ he gives you a once over “so go along to your dorm and catch some rest…”

You always know what gossip’s going on.

How Leona failed his last test. Or malleus cried in class. How Riddle talks to animals. You. Know. Everything.

I see him as valuing your opinion, so sometimes when he isnt sure if he likes how a shoot / a photo came out, he’ll ask you- sometimes taking your judgment other times doing the opposite

Screams at the tv 💀

Like yall could be watching cheer and when they’re at Daytona he’ll shush you any time you try to talk, or (when he knows no one is in a square radius of his room, dorms closed, windows locked, rook hunting- he’ll start screaming

Has no problem confronting people, if one of your friends block you for no reason, he’ll go up to them (when he deems fit) and ask why they’d do that

Basically an extrovert adopting an introvert if you truly think about it

PETTY. THIS MAN IS PETTY.

SO MANY BACKHANDED COMPLIMENTS THAT YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHEN HE SAYS REAL COMPLIMENTS

He’s gotta keep you on your toes

“…What are you wearing?”

“…I thought it was cute…”

“oh… well you look like the ugly duckling who got dumped in oil and cooked alive- go change”

If you think he doesn't give you a weekly makeover and give you a proper skin care routine, you're deadly mistaken

In his free time I can see him totally helping you with potions and chemistry, and since he’s into skin care and make up he’ll just suddenly nerd out while looking at different skin care products

… close to being a Karen- has class and he’s socially conscious so he isn't

Also will help you with social media rules and social rules if you‘re oblivious about them (like me)

Will give you pep talks that will linger with you for months, maybe even a whole year as Vil knows what he’s talking about

You need him as much as he needs you, and if someone tries to tell you differently, they’ll suddenly have the worst luck 🤥

He tries to keep you out of the spotlight as 1/ he doesn't want you to get involved and 2. It’s his spotlight. So when you're out you’ll have to keep yourself disguised since he’s as conscious about his reputation as he is his skincare

Gives you the ‘boys are shit’ talk

“but you’re a guy”

“no. i’m a queen, rook is a boy”

“excuse you but i’m a man”

But over all, yall are staying best friends - forever 😈

Keeps you away from neige

matching outfits that aren’t tacky

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬

omg, omg my little pony didn't prepare him enough for this

In order for you guys to become friends, you’d either have to not know who he is, be paired up as partners, or talk to him as a dare 💀 (Please keep that one to yourself, cause his three musketeers will literally ruin you)

But please, he's so happy that you actually talked to him. just walking with him to class will lift his spirits, and he’ll look forward to talking to you again

And, yeah at first he’s awkward, you are too cause ‘why are people looking at me like they’ve seen a ghost’

But please. Be kind. He’s a sweetie 😿

Gives you the weirdest nicknames, ‘child of man’ being his favorite

call him mal or mal-mal and he’ll gleam with delight

But the more you spend time with him, figuring out he's more… odd, than intimidating

The people in diasomnia are blessed with actual sunshine and thats bringing his retainers through a loop becuase- what the fuck is wrong with malleus?

Sebek is losing his head and lilia,albeit amused since he never saw this side of him, wants to know what’s going on. and silver’s in one of his classes so he knows

You definitely get cornered by them💀 sorry bro but they’ll probably threaten you DBFNCOISUJGR

And when sebek literally degrades your entire bloodline and calls your mom a ‘wench’ you start to avoid malleus :(

He tries to talk to you but you're always either in a hurry or whisked away by one of the first years…

“Oh… I see”

Cue sebek, lilia and silver watching from a corner

So a week passes

…and 17 diasomnia students have ended up in the infirmary because of the constraint lighting strikes-

And three of them finally put 4 and 4 together and realize they’ve possibly made a mistake (lilia already knew this, but he just wanted to see what happens- cheeky little bastard👹)

And malleus, finally having enough comes up to you as you’re playing with grim, freezes everything in time expect you and just- talks

10 minutes later y'all are friends again and going to get lunch😻

Ignores his retainers for a day

He’s definitely a passive person. Not being able to say his disdain for things out right, but with carefully crafted words he could call someone’s mom a whore and they’d be thanking him for the supposed compliment

Honestly if people see you around malleus they’ll genuinely think he’s threatening you / holding your family hostage

“Blink twice if youre in danger”

“Why would they be in danger? Are they being threatened? If so…” 😟

But then again- scary dog privileges👁👁

Which has resorted to multiple rescue attempts from the first year squad

He’s a little jealous when they succeed cause he wants to join in on the fun too :((

You join the gargoyle research club! He asked you and since you didn't have anything going on at the time, and needed some kind of breather from… the trio of mayhem

Plus he looked so… lonely 🤥

LOGOWEAR FHG PLEASE HE’S NOT A CHARITY CASE CAUSE HE MAKES BEING ALONE ALL MYSTERIOUS WHEN IN REALITY THE MLP THEME SONG IS BLASTING IN THERE

Some times he’ll say there’s an emergency meeting and takes you out of class just to wander around the school after coaxing from lilia

He loves hearing about your adventures with the first years, loving the way your eyes sparkle and you talk animatedly about what goes on. Just.

*sighs dreamily*

Out of all of them i think it’s easiest to get into a relationship with malleus

Please do makeovers with him. Stick those saturated butterflyclips in his hair and attempt to do different makeup and hair styles on him and he’ll be so happy, on the inside, with a slight smile is on his face on the outside

Don't let sebek catch you though-

“What are you doing to the young master! Let go of him this instant!”

YOU TWO HAVE FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS SHUT UP.

Extra credit points if its mlp related

(Malleus watches mlp literally fight me- yall binge it too.)

I WILL KEEP PUSHING THIS

Flexes accidentally 🧍🏻

Like no, he’ll talk about how on break he went to some exotic island like its nothing you only found out that it was rich and exotic when ace and deuce look like they were about to faint when you told them he invited you

I WANNA MAKE RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS FOR HIM CAUSE UGHUREGHF- he will secretly court you if he likes you 🧍🏻

Okay back on track, even though he’s the ‘big bad malleus’ he has bad nights too, where he just cuddles into his covers, and hides himself from the world, that was truly when you realized he’s just like everyone else. That he’s not some robot. Some kind of a golden pedestal that sebek constantly has him on

You platonically cuddle cause he’s so touch starved- he’s either FREEZING and incredibly warm. No in between.

Sebek has approached you repeatedly asking you ‘how to get closer to the young master’

And you, still. Not over him practically calling your mom a whore, tell him to just, open his eyes a little more walks around with his eyes wide the next day- GBFNVIOSEF IK HE’S NOT FULLY OBLIVIOUS BUT WHEN IT COMES TO MALLEUS, C’MON

Out of everyone, i don't think you’ll have any true fights, malleus treasuring you, one of his only friends, so he makes sure communication is there

Y’all are 4lifers. You're his ride or die.

You also help him try to talk to leona more cause he, for some reason, wants to be his friend and- oh my god the chaos that ensues

#takalzuoom #kai…🌊 #anime x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #vil schoenheit #malleus diasomnia #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland malleus x reader #twst malleus #twst vil #vil x reader #malleus x reader #diasomnia x reader #twisted wonderland vil x reader #pomefiore #pomefiore x reader #vil pomefiore

[cutelittlevamp]

Horrortober Day 23 - Cut

I'm late once again .-. I was just too tired to write anything yesterday.

Well, today with ObeyMe!, Yandere!Satan x Reader

I love Satan, I love books and please, never dump a book anywhere o.o if you don't want it anymore sell it or give it away but please never dump it

Horrortober Challenge by @yandere-sins and @pastelbirb

tw: blood (papercut)

_____________________________________________________________

➤ Day 23: Cut “Look what you did.” | Draw two different backgrounds in the same drawing.

-

It was just a book. Nothing more.

Just a simple book that looked pretty old. Most people would probably rather call it a tome than just simply a book.

There was just one thing that really bothered you about it. You did not know where it had come from. It just appeared one day, lying innocently on top of your other books and you just had a bad feeling about it.

Without touching it too much you put it down somewhere else just to find it on top of your books again the next day. This game continued for the next few days. You even locked it in your closet one time but still, it was back again the next morning resting on top of the other books.

Normally you’d never treat a book roughly in any way but this one just put you on edge so much that you decided to throw it out. Not just by putting it in the trash, oh no, you drove to the other side of down and personally dumped it. While driving home you felt better. As if a weight had been lifted off you.

You put your keys away after you had closed the front door and then went straight to your room still in high spirits until you turned on the light.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” There it was again, lying on your pillow this time. “Very well then,” you mumbled while approaching the - as you thought it to be - cursed tome. “If you want to be read so badly…”

You sat down at the edge of the bed carefully placing the book on your lap. For a moment you just stared down at it, then you took a deep breath and opened it to the first page.

A dreadful feeling came over you as if the book read you and not you the book and that wasn’t even so unlikely, you thought, as you couldn’t read it. Whatever kind of language it was written in you had never seen it’s alphabet before.

Flipping through the pages you looked at the pictures instead but that wasn’t that nice either. They looked pretty gruesome and somehow reminded you of old paintings you had seen somewhere picturing demons or angels falling from grace.

You started to feel really sick but you couldn’t stop yourself from flipping through the pages. Somehow you just couldn’t get away from the book anymore. Only when a sharp pain shot through your finger were you able to look away again. Just a papercut but as your blood dripped on the page you could only watch in horror as the paper seemed to suck the red liquid in and circles appeared on it - red, just like your blood.

You jumped to your feet and the book dropped to the ground. It seemed to glow now. Oh, you shouldn’t have opened it in the first place!

“Now look what you did there,” came a voice and a low chuckle from beside you. It took you quite some time to turn towards it as you were still captivated by the book.

At the time you had finally turned he already stood right in front of you reaching for your hand and pulling it up to his face he licked the remaining blood from your finger.

He only grinned at your shocked expression.

“Did you like my present?” Finding yourself unable to answer you only looked in the direction of the book and he nodded. “Even though I put a strong spell on it, you resisted the temptation to open it for quite some time … but I knew you were a special mortal the first time I met you.”

Mortal? A strong spell? You had met before? Damn, you were so freaking confused.

It was obvious that he noticed your confusion too but he only chuckled.

“I don’t see the need to explain anything to you now, after all, we’ll have a lot of time to get used to each other now. You have already signed the contract.” “I didn’t sign anything,” you remarked after finally finding your voice again.

“Oh yes you did.” He waved your still bleeding finger in front of your face. “You signed it in the best way possible.”

#horrortoberchallenge2021 #oneshot #yandere oneshot #obey me yandere #obey me satan #yandere satan #satan x reader #please don't dump books

[cha-lyn]

A Series of Break Ins

bucky x black female reader

Summary: Someone breaks into your apartment

Warnings: break ins, lil bit of violence, wounds + blood

Words: 1617

A/N: Inspiration from @write-it-motherfuckers ( prompt is in bold somewhere below) :) some wonderful stuff on that blog

-------

January.

You lived in an old building in a shitty part of town. The loft kind that was once an office or a factory or something. Lots of windows. Terrible heat bill in the winter. You heard gunshots and fighting frequently. It wasn’t your dream home. No, your windows faced a manufacturing building with no windows. From your fire escape, if you stretched really far, you could cross the alley and touch the building. You only did that once though because the fire escape was rickety and not very safe.

That particular night, you were coming home from a mediocre date with a guy named Marcus. Usually you’d take a cab home, but your budget was tight this month. So you weaved through the alleys, the cold and the dark making you more jumpy than usual. You just wanna be home, with your warm fuzzy socks on and a glass of wine.

Your anxiety settles once you make it into your building. You take the steps two a time to your third floor studio. You open your door, shutting it quickly and leaning back against it.

That’s when the hairs on your arm stand up. Your eyes shoot open and your breath catches. Your kitchen light is on. You know it was not on when you left earlier. In your kitchen sits your first aid kit dumped out on the table.

You grab the baseball bat you keep next to the door and check every crevice of your home. Nothing.

You return to the kitchen, hesitantly. Next to the first aid kit is a napkin with a note: Sorry for the intrusion. I’ll replace everything I used. Thanks. - BB

You just looked at the note and blinked. Who the fuck had been in your apartment?!

The next day there’s a package outside your door containing the promised replacements from the stranger. There’s another note: Sorry again. -BB

You’re not quite sure what to do. Call the police? And say what- someone broke in, left no trace and then replaced what they stole? They would think you’re crazy.

February.

After the break in you upped your security. You got a deadbolt, a door chain, and a magnetic sensor on your front door that rang and alerted your phone when set off.

You felt pretty good about your upgrade… until it happened again. You’d come home late from drinks with a friend unlocked the door, then the deadbolt.

The light in your kitchen was on again. You grabbed your bat immediately, ready to swing on whoever was dumb enought to break into your house yet again.

“Whoa, whoa ma’am. Please don’t--” but you did. Whack him that is. Three times. And then a black gloved hand stopped your swings dead and blue eyes lock with yours.

“Holy fucking shit. B. B! It was you. Fucking Bucky Barnes broke into my house!”

He nods and watches your face as it goes from rage to confusion and then back to rage. You let go of the bat and he puts it behind him. “Look, I am really sorry. I know this is probably terrifying--”

“Yeah ‘cause I thought you were a god damn serial killer--not an Avenger!” You plop down onto a kitchen chair.

Bucky stared at you amused. “This is not how I thought this would go…”

“Don’t you have some Avenger place you can go and get fixed up? Instead of breaking into civilian households?” you sigh irritatedly.

“No. For one I’m not an Avenger…. And uh, two… I got hurt doing something not necessarily sanctioned by the government.” Bucky looked up at the ceiling bashfully.

“My god, you’re doing vigilante shit,” you breathed out a laugh.

Bucky shrugged, “You could call it that.” He wrung his gloved hands together. “I should go… I’ll send you replacements for the stuff I used. ”

“Or you could just not break into my house.” Bucky chuckled, before climbing out the window. “You could use the door!’

The man has the audacity to laugh as he closes your window, “Thanks again, doll.”

You let out a groan, wondering why on earth he chose your apartment and why on earth you weren’t more pissed off about it.

March

You’re dead asleep when you hear a thud on the fire escape outside your window. Your heart thuds like a bass drum as scenarios of you being murdered flash through your head. A stabbing. A shooting. God, please not a strangling. Then there’s a persistent tapping. You pretend to still be asleep, holding your breath and not moving.

“I know you're awake. I need to .. uh utilize your first aid kit again. Please, doll.”

Relief hits you like a wave and you flick the light on and get out of bed. You open the window and Sergeant Barnes slips through the space, holding his flesh arm, but not really effectively stopping the blood.

The two of you stand there for a second, until you remember that you don’t sleep with pants on and awkwardly move around him to find a pair of shorts. You find him sitting at your kitchen table again, waiting for you to get the first aid kit, like he doesn’t have a goddamn metal arm on him.

“For fuck’s sake…” You pull it out from under the sink and set it in front of him with a thud. Bucky smirks sheepishly. “Did you get shot again?” you ask after a while. He nods once as he gets to work. “Aren’t you like... super?” He nods. “Won't it heal super fast?” He nodded once again. “So what’s the point of the first aid kit?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” he sighs irritatedly.

You narrow your eyes, “Oh dear, am I inconveniencing you?”

He stops and looks up at you through his dark lashes. “Sorry. I’m being rude. What's your name anyway?”

You roll your eyes, but you tell him.

He cleans after himself and then stands. “Thank you again. Y/n.”

You ignore the lil shiver you get when he says your name, “Is this gonna be a regular thing Sargeant?”

Bucky flashed you a charming smile, “Do you want it to be, doll?”

You cross your arms and set you glare, “You have five seconds before I get my bat.”

Bucky let out a very boyish laugh before dramatically making his exit via the window again.

Over the next few days, you consider getting locks for the windows, but for some reason you just don’t.

Two weeks later, you open your door, arms full of groceries, and find Bucky sitting on the floor of your kitchen once more, first aid kit open in front of him. You’re not even surprised really.

“Ah, Hello again. We really need to stop meeting like this.”

You scoff, “Maybe we would, if you would sTOP BREAKING INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!!” You toss your purse on the couch.

Bucky laughs and the winces and groans. It’s then that you realize he’s very pale in the face and his flesh hand isn’t gloved it’s just dark with blood.

You drop the groceries roughly on the table, “Shit Bucky. Are you-- You’re bleeding a lot!”

“I’m fine, doll.”

“I don’t think you are….” You panic, reaching for your phone, but remembering it’s deep in your purse across the room.

“You gotta-- you’re gonna have to sew it up, okay?”

“Let me just call an ambulance,” you get up to get your phone, but he grabs your wrist firmly.

“No. You can do this Y/n. I’ll walk you through it.” Something in his blue eyes assures you. You nod and Bucky has you cut his shirt off before he leads you through the cleaning of his wound. Your face felt hot at the sight of his beautiful broad chest, despite the mess around you. Bucky guided you, wincing and jaw ticking as you closed up his wound. By the end, your hands are red and sticky and you’re quite nauseous, but you didn’t care. The color was already back in his face and the sparkle back in his blue eyes. “You did good, doll.”

“I can’t believe I did that,” you say breathily. Bucky smiled fondly at you. You get up, wash your hands thoroughly and gently help Bucky up and to your couch. “You want something to eat? Let me get you some water.” You don’t wait for an answer before going to the kitchen. You bring him a bottle of water, a beer, and left over orange chicken from last night’s dinner- he inhaled all three while you cleaned and sanitized your kitchen floor.

“I should head out,” he stood up stiffly, favoring his wounded side. “I’m sorry about all this…” he gestured towards his wound and then to your kitchen. “It won't happen again. I’ll get my own first aid kit.”

You shrug, “You basically bought mine with as much as you use it.” You stick your hand out. “Phone.” Bucky eyes you warily before obeying. “How about next time you need to use my first aid kit, you just call first?”

Bucky smiles a lopsided, goofy smile, as you put your number in. “I think I can do that.”

Three days later, Bucky calls you around 7pm. Thirty minutes later there’s a knock at your door - not your window.

“What’s bleeding now--”

Instead of beat up and bleeding, Bucky stands before you in a black button up with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of take out. “Hey doll. I wanted to really apologize for everything and try to make it up to you,” he gives you a sheepish grin.

You can’t contain your own smile. “Well, orange chicken and flowers are a good start. Come in.”

----

Everything Tag List

@thefridgeismybestie

@basically-introverted

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky x black!reader #bucky x poc!reader #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky #bucky drabble

[langdxn]

OMGGG PLEASE WRITE FOR STAN ✨✨🖤🖤

well if you insist...

off the record | stan bowes x reporter!reader

WARNINGS: pretty graphic smut, fingering, vaginal sex, pet names errywhere, trump mentions, dom!stan

WORDS: 2.9k (excessive but necessary)

A/N: 110% not proofread yet so apologies for any errors which i’ll fix tomorrow.

The hustle and bustle of 5th Avenue spared Stan the embarrassment of leaving a torturous meeting at work. Tumbling out into the chaos of the New York streets offered him the anonymity he craved after a confrontation with Matt, the ability to blend in amongst the faces that couldn’t recognise him from the next suited, briefcase-toting businessman.

Bursting out of the doors to Trump Towers, Stan dropped his briefcase and rinsed his face with both hands, pressing his fingers to his eyes in a vain attempt to wipe away the day he’d just had. In that moment, no eyes were trained on him, no pressure on his shoulders, no demands of his time.

That is, until a sugary voice broke the crowd’s monotonous buzz.

“Trouble in economic paradise, honey?”

Stan’s hands dropped to his side as he searched for the source of his interruption, eyes intently scanning the street until they fell upon you, leaning against the building’s opulent marble pillars at the entrance.

“Sorta,” he mumbled under his breath, a grimace gently tapering his lips as he gazed down at his shoes. In an attempt to avoid your attentions, he trained his sights on a particularly worn paving slab. His distraction worked right up until your heels clacked toward him and planted right on his slab, the smoke from your cigarette swirling in his peripheral vision — there was no avoiding you, no matter how hard he tried. Stan’s head raised to meet your gaze, his deep brown eyes betraying a sadness and insecurity he may never put into words.

“I hear Mr Trump can be a harsh master,” you goaded your victim into spilling his guts, taking a deep puff of your cigarette before blowing it back to hover over his brown curls like a makeshift halo.

“I... I wouldn’t know, I barely see him,” Stan confessed, grabbing his suitcase and nodded toward the street. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Miss.”

Time for drastic action. The brunette stepped toward the street, ready to dismiss this exchange and continue his day.

“I smoke out here to drive your boss up the wall, you know,” you called after him, booming over the hubbub on 5th Avenue. “Admittedly he doesn’t come out much, but that jerk-off on the 41st floor certainly reads me for dirt every Friday night. What’s his name, Matt Bromley?”

Stan stopped in his tracks.

“Oh, so you know him too?” You pressed, pacing toward him with a staccato clack of your heels.

“He’s my superior, or at least he pretends to be,” Stan turned to face you, that same pained smirk dancing across his cheeks as his voice cracked between sentences. “Be careful around him, yeah? He’s not exactly one of the nice guys.”

“You’re telling me,” you scoffed, taking another swift drag while tipping your head to the side. “Luckily if he laid a finger on me, I’d put it front page of the Post and he’d never work in this overpriced dump again.”

“You’re a reporter?” Stan’s eyebrows quirked, intrigued but nonetheless concerned. Should he even be talking to a reporter like this? Will every word that passes his lips end up on tomorrow’s front page? He shook his head to dismiss any suspicious thoughts, he certainly didn’t have the headspace for that yet.

“For now,” you admitted with a pout and an eye-roll. “Your asshole ‘superior’ tries to rectify that on a regular basis. Keeps telling my boss I’m soliciting outside Trump Tower instead of reporting. Always digging through my personal life and not coming up with so much as an overdue rental VHS. Someday my editor will believe him, but I’m on my last warning as it is.”

“Seriously?” Stan’s smirk grew more sympathetic with the realisation one more life was being wrecked by the man he had the misfortune of sharing a floor with. “That’s pretty crazy.”

“That’s Manhattan, honey,” you smiled warmly at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not doorstepping you, I just happened to be here on a tip-off.”

“A tip-off? What sort of—.”

Stan cut himself off on hearing the approach of a familiar obnoxious voice on a cell phone booming in the golden foyer behind your exchange.

“Shit, that’s Bromley,” Stan panicked, suddenly grasping your arm and leading you away from the door, casting your half-smoked cigarette to the kerb. “Let’s get you outta here.”

“My nameless knight in shining armour,” you chuckled to yourself, somehow instincively following his lead on the street until you merged with the throngs of passers-by. “Where are we going, sweetie?”

“My name’s Stan Bowes, and I have absolutely no idea where we’re going.”

———

“You don’t look like a Stan,” you mused at the businessman seated across the table from you, tapping your chin with a finger as you contemplated alternative monikers. “More like a... Colin? Peter? Yeah, you’re a Peter—.”

“Can we just... rewind here?” Stan interrupted, eyes darting frantically at your surroundings, scanning the faces at the other tables. “D’ya mind explaining to me why we’re in a Five Guys right now?”

“You’ll thank me later, toots,” you quickly dismissed his objection as you swirled your soda cup in your other hand. “You think your psycho friend from the 41st floor’s gonna look for you in a diner? He’ll go straight to the Plaza... or even Indochine. Never a Five Guys. Plus, I needed somewhere I can afford to pay the bill so the Trump Organisation expense account doesn’t feel the burn.”

A wordless nod and raised eyebrow from your company suggested his silent approval, but his hands idly toying with the burger before him betrayed his confidence in your genius escape plan. Folding the lettuce edging out from beneath the bun, tugging at the rings of onion and nervously picking the sesame seeds from the top.

“You never told me what your tip-off was. What were you doing outside my work?” Stan raised his manhandled burger to his mouth, daring to undo all the strategic dismantling he’d just put into action.

“Somebody told the office that the blonde egomaniac at the top of your food chain is planning to run for president.”

Stan nearly choked on his first bite, resisting the temptation to spit it out in shock. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“‘Fraid not.”

“That... that can’t be true, he’s too busy with the plans to buy the Plaza two blocks away.”

“The Plaza?!” Your inquisitive voice changed pitch.

“Yeah, didn’t you know?” Stan screwed up his face. “Wait— you’re not gonna print this, are you?”

“I’m not here to rat you out,” You raised both surrendering hands in the space between you. “See? No notebook, no tape recorder, no agenda. It’s just me and you, baby.”

The brown haired man smiled warmly, visibly releasing the tension in his shoulders, comforted that he wasn’t being examined.

“So if you’re not here for business, why is a beautiful girl like you talking to me? I’m nothing special, I’m just a guy in an overpriced suit.”

Caving into the temptation to look him up and down, your gaze wandered to Stan’s hands, gently trembling as he held his burger.

“Because I like you, Peter,” you grinned at the sound of your company’s new moniker. “You and that suit. But you’re so much more than that suit, you know.”

“Eh, I’m not so sure about that. Matt doesn’t seem to think so either.”

“Screw what Bromley the office bully thinks,” you slammed the table with your palm. “This is about you. The guy who stopped to talk to a girl who looked like she was hustling outside your building, the guy who’s not afraid to sit in a diner with a total stranger to save her from his coworker. Face it, Peter, you’re one of the good guys.”

His lips tapered into a warm smile. “Thank you, miss, for not jumping to conclusions about me.”

“Don’t get me wrong, the pinstripes suit you. They’d look better on my floor, but...”

Stan immediately looked up from his food to your eyes, scanning for any sign of humour or any chance you were just trying to make him feel better.

“Did you just—?”

“I think I did!” You giggled, a hint of disbelief in your own words. “Is that a problem?”

Frozen in the moment, Stan just stared at you for a minute. His next move was exhilaratingly unpredictable, leaving your heart rate thundering in your ears, but something about the shimmer in his eyes suggested you wouldn’t have to worry.

“Peter, what’s wrong, did I—?”

You were cut off by Stan’s lips crashing into yours, lunging over the table and hooking a hand around your neck to draw you in. His kiss deepened with every second, dipping his nose into your cheek and moaning softly into your mouth. As you parted, his ear-to-ear grin beamed back to mirror yours.

“Yuppies don’t kiss like that,” you joked.

“You should see me in the bedroom,” he retorted with a laugh.

“Deal.”

———

Hollywood movies were right about one thing: sex in the throes of passion often starts in the same way — bundling through your lover’s uptown hotel room with your legs wrapped around his waist while he juggles his keycard, both peppering sloppy open-mouthed kisses and showering each other with distracted affection until he drops you onto the satin sheets.

Stan, courteous as ever, gently placed you on the sprawling bed without his lips leaving yours, crawling between your thighs before thinking how to undress himself. With both his hands preoccupied passionately lacing into your hair, you grasped at the hem of your dress to take it off yourself.

“Hold on, princess,” he muttered into your mouth, immediately untangling a hand to trace down your figure and met your attempts to hitch your skirt. “Let me strip you.”

Stan thumbed at the edge of the fabric, savouring the moment before you became so much more than a beautiful stranger to him, before slowly rolling your dress up, passing your neck and whipping it over your head to limit the time before he could kiss you again.

“Peter, are you sure about this?” You queried out of respect while casting aside his evidently expensive belt, tearing his braces from his shoulders and laying waste to his shirt buttons.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he hummed against your lips between hot and ragged breaths. “And my name’s not fucking Peter.”

Stan made light work of yanking your panties down to your knees around him, unhooking them from one leg for quicker access and throwing the bundle of lace across the room, soon followed by your bra. In the blur of clothes flying, you tackled his suit pants down to his knees and slipped his silk boxers to join them. The less you thought about those silk boxers, the better.

With no clothes left between you, Stan pressed his bare chest against yours, his heart racing so fast it could burst out of his rib cage.

A needy groan erupted in his throat as he tore his lips away from yours, journeying to pepper heated kisses down your throat, sucking gently as his lips reached your collarbone and followed south to your breasts. While his tongue expertly swirled around one nipple, his hand travelled to the other and kneaded hungrily, gently rolling the hardening bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Your soft moan as he sucked harder gave him the signal to trail his fingers down your frame, his palm traversing the plane of your hips before he reached your exposed clit, tracing lazy circles around your bundle of nerves. Your back arched wildly into his touch, reaching a hand to wind into his brown curls when your helpless, urgent moans grew in volume.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I won’t leave you hanging much longer,” Stan whispered through a satisfied smile against your breast. “I just need to taste you first.”

His circling finger journeyed south to track around your folds, swollen and pulsing in anticipation of his next move. Slowly dipping the tip of his finger through your soaking entrance, your hips bucked upwards and instinctively widened your legs beneath him.

“That’s my good girl, spread yourself wide for me.” Stan’s eyelids fluttered excitedly, adding another finger inside your aching cunt and hooking both to graze your soft walls. His lips left your nipple so he could gaze at your form writhing beneath him, completely at his mercy.

His curled fingers pressed urgently into your walls, building an uncontrollable pressure within you and forcing your eyes to roll to the ceiling. Stan noticed you nearing ecstasy and immediately withdrew his dripping fingers, raising them to his lips and pressing them to his tongue.

“I knew you’d taste like heaven,” he cooed gently, lifting up to dip his head into your neck placing searing hot kisses beneath your ear. “Cat got your tongue, Miss New York Post?”

“I... I...,” you stuttered weakly, your whole body alight with waves of heat and anticipation you’d never felt before. “I...”

“You’re not usually this quiet,” Stan whispered. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I... need... you...”

He hummed contentedly, trailing his hand south to line the head of his cock with your throbbing entrance.

“What’s that, princess? You want me to fuck you?” Stan questioned with false innocence, a devious smirk plumping his cheeks. “You’ve been such a good girl waiting for me, I think you’ve earned it.”

In one smooth rock of his hips, Stan’s length slipped through your folds and bottomed out inside you. Your eyes journeyed to the ceiling as he filled you, spine arching recklessly craving more friction. He drew his hips back slowly, but his next thrust slammed his cock inside you so hard, you let out a hollow gasp.

“I know baby, I know,” Stan comforted you, curling his hips to ensure every thrust brushed the tip of his length against your deepest points and revelling in your squirms under him. “You’re taking me so well.”

Lost for words in the stars emerging in the corners of your eyes, you remained speechless as Stan broke down every single one of your weaknesses and turned you into putty in his hands. Jerking uncontrollably and sinking your head back into the pillow with every devastating thrust, Stan kissed your exposed neck and moaned deeply. Seizing his opportunity, both hands flew to lightly grasp your throat, his thumbs calmly resting on your windpipe — his aim wasn’t to choke you, just to hold onto you enough to assert his ownership of you, claiming you as you writhed beneath him. He leaned back to admire his work of unravelling you, possessing you.

“Look at you,” he hummed through a grin, not missing a single beat of his determined thrusts. “You’re so, so beautiful.”

Chasing you to your height of ecstasy once more, Stan’s staccato rhythm jackhammered into you at the same rate as the tremors consuming your body beneath his. Your vision of his bouncing brown curls above you started to fade behind the glittering haze taking over your mind. Fighting for consciousness, you stuttered a hollow cry for release as you approached your climax.

“Stan, I— I need to... I’m gonna cu—.”

“It’s okay baby, I’ve got you,” Stan reassured, wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling you into his chest as his hips grew frantic and sloppy. “Let go for me.”

With a deep growl and a final erratic thrust, Stan spilled against your walls, flooding warmth inside you that sent your head dipping into the pillows. His lips gently pecked your throat again as he poured his length back to the depths of your pussy, pushing his load as far inside you as possible.

Emerging from the depths of the pillow as you regained control of your legs wrapped around his waist, Stan slowly drew his hips back and slipped his length out from your swollen folds, his gaze dropping to your entrance as if making sure his cum wouldn’t drip out. Content that he hadn’t left any suspicious stains on the hotel sheets, Stan returned to gaze into your eyes and beamed from ear to ear.

“You... you called me Stan?” He quizzed while tumbling down to the pillow beside you, a puzzled eyebrow quirking beneath beads of sweat.

“You called me princess,” you retaliated with a joking tap of his chest. “I think we’re equal here, don’t you?”

Stan chuckled to himself and turned to face you, propping his head up with an exhausted, trembling hand. A palpable silence fell as he composed his next sentence.

“Was this, er... would you... can you...,” He stumbled nervously over his words; his assertive alter ego must have left as soon as he came.

“Cat got your tongue, Mr Trump Organi—“

“Stay.”

Your gaze dropped to your chest as you laughed it off. “As much as I’d love to, I got the feeling this was just a one-off for you?”

“That’s what I thought you wanted, too,” Stan confirmed with a quirked eyebrow.

Chuckling to yourself, you shook your head to dismiss all the worries that the dapper businessman would make you do the walk of shame once he’d finished.

“Then I’ll stay, sugar,” you beamed, settling into Stan’s chest as he scooped his arm beneath your head.

“We’ll get room service to dry clean your dress and I’ll drive you to work in the morning, if that’s okay?” Stan’s courteous streak had definitely returned.

You smiled broadly, nodding against Stan’s chest and swooping an arm around his waist.

“Besides, now you can tell me all about that presidential tip-off you had,” he quizzed. “Trump may be an extremely powerful guy, but he’s never gonna be president…”

#stan bowes x reader #pose fanfiction #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters imagines

[mxtantrights]

past lives | 3

a/n: Ok this is like the pre-climax? is that a thing? no well I'm gonna make it a thing right now! time to meet more of the family!!  enjoyyy <3

Fallon nudged your shoulder to get your attention. Previously your focus was on the champagne flute, and before that the odd waiter who served it to you with an old scar straight through his mouth.

“I brought you here to snatch and grab stuff, where’s the team spirit?” they ask.

You make a face, “You brought me here because you didn't wanna go alone. And I can’t blame you if I had to come here alone I would-”

“Definitely throw myself off the balcony. Running start.” a voice adds.

It was neither yours or Fallons. So the two of you turn around and find the culprit. And just like destiny or fate or something, you see the guy you handed off a letter from your dead parent a few days prior.

“I mean isn’t it kind of your party?” you ask.

Tim shrugs a bit and sips the drink in his hand. It’s a non verbal answer that gives something away. Maybe it’s in the 

“If you think that, then think about me. I’m the plus one.” you say.

He chuckles, “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Same”

“Again?” Fallon asks.

You nod your head, “I had to drop something off at the Wayne building not too long ago. To Mr.Drake actually.”

“Oh it’s just Tim.” he says and holds out his hand.

You quickly take it and shake as instructed. Then Fallon follows the action, along with an introduction. Tim smiles and it looks like a genuine one.

“Well when I said we were gonna smooze I didn’t know you pre-planned.” they say.

You nudge them as they snicker. 

“I’d probably be the wrong Wayne to smooze. My hectic schedule allows for no free time.” he answers.

Fallon laughs at this. “Oh, well you’re kinda on the younger side too.”

You can see Tim’s check taint red. His eyes dart away from the both of you. You still couldn’t believe that a young man like him was in charge of Wayne enterprises- or enterprise, however that worked out. 

It probably felt like the world was on his shoulders.

The phone in your cocktail bag buzzed. Even though you didn’t know who it was, you had a very high suspicion that it was the league. What they wanted you to do at tonight’s event was still under wraps. But you knew that whatever task it was, wasn’t going to lead to a happy ending. 

It never does.

You open your bag and take out your phone, “I’ve gotta handle this. My Aunt.”

Both Fallon and Tim nod as you walk away from your table and out into the balcony. It was a bit chippy outside so it wasn’t really of use to anyone. The rich don’t like the cold you guessed. Makes sense, heated floors and sidewalks. 

The cold air reaches your skin. You don’t shiver. Growing up in Gotham until you were eighteen you hadn't gotten used to it. It was no Antartica but then again that Icicle man did like to rein terror sometimes. It was like practice.

You open the text and sure enough,

tonight you act as transport. 

when you get handed a package deliver it here: 

45 Gotham Harbor 

Great. You were acting as a convoy tonight. It shouldn’t bother you that much, but it does. If whatever they were planning was something real and dangerous and they were keeping you low on the food chain, that mean you were expendable to them.

It hurt. 

It wasn’t like you ran away from them. They gave you an opportunity to leave after a couple of years being one of their fastest rising recruits.. At first it felt like a sick test. Like one final trust fall before they could actually believe your unwavering loyalty. 

You sat with the decision for days. It was a whole week before you decided to get out of the league. You thought that as soon as you stepped food out of the place they would kill you. But you walked out the front door and kept walking.

Oddly enough they had even given you a ride to Gotham. 

But you being a convoy tonight? This felt like a test. One you needed to pass. If not for your life, then to find out what they were really planning. The league never takes care of things so out in the open like this. 

“Did you just get dumped or something?” another random voice.

You turn off your phone and turn your head to the left. In the dark corner of the balcony is a guy. You can only make him out because of his lit cigarette. If it weren’t for that, you probably wouldn’t have made him. 

Have your senses and training begun to fade? Ra’s is probably somewhere vibrating off the walls.

Sure enough he comes out of the dark and you can see him fully. He’s not in the night standard uniform. Instead he's in a dress shirt underneath a brown jacket. He did try with the black slacks you see. 

Was he security? No he looked a bit familiar. 

You think you should probably say something before he thinks rudely of you. 

“No, just an interesting text.”

He hums some sort of sound. And then he walks a bit closer. You notice its not close enough to reach out and touch him. He’s really careful. He must be some type of security.

“You were talking to Tim, you one of those Gala Groupies?” he asks.

The shock that falls upon your face can't be helped. It instantly turns into sourness at the implication that you were a groupie. First off, Galas are boring. Second you’d more likely be a groupie for a rockstar than a rich old man- let alone a younger guy like Tim.

You hiss and cross your arms against your chest, “That was bit presumptive wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean it as an insult. Presumptive to think that I did.” he bites back.

You nod you head along with a grin. 

“Didn’t know the security detail came with snobbery. How do I know you’re not a groupie for Tim?” you ask.

He looks like he wants to hurl. Then he beings to laugh. His laughter fills the balcony a bit and you just watch in interest. He calms himself and then places his hand over the railing to rest.

“I would not, it’d be weird.”

“Not your type?” 

“My brother will never be my type.” 

Ah.

You look at him for a second more and then it clicks. This was Jason Todd, the black sheep of the Wayne family, you are talking to. You thought he looked familiar you just couldn’t place him earlier. Even though the white streak through his hair should’ve gave it away. 

“My apologies.” you say.

He fakes wiping a tear from his eye. “no worries, you gave me a laugh tonight. I should be thanking you.”

“I am not gonna be your groupie either.” 

“Presumptive, but okay.” 

“Have a good night.”

-

Bruce finds Tim in-between mingling and cuts in. 

“Oh thank God, I thought for another second my head would burst.” Tim says.

Bruce smiles, “Saved you then.” 

“Have you seen Dick anywhere? I wanted to get his eyes on a case of mine.”

“No night work at the Gala. Take a break.” 

Bruce begins to look for Dick within the crowd of people. His eye bounce from person to person. Effectively he’s glanced over you without a second thought. Or so he thinks.

When he does finally find Dick, he calls for him. This makes his son stop in his tracks. He comes to a stop and you were right behind him as he did. You aren’t quick enough to stop yourself and so you go colliding into his back.

-

“So sorry about that.” he says.

You shake your head, “It’s fine. No drinks spilled or whatever they say.” 

He throws out a laugh so easily. You smile quickly and make a B-line for Fallon. As you make your way to where they have taken new residence, you see their face change. More specifically their eyebrows go up in the way that says ‘oh?’

“Cut it out, he bumped into me.” 

“Maybe you guys can do some more bumping. Later on, if you-”

“I know exactly what you mean and I’m not entertaining you.”

-

Dick makes it over to his father and his brother. When he does Tim claps his back with his hand. It makes Dick wonder where the time went. 

“Nice to see you brother.” Tim says.

“You too. Bruce.”

Bruce just nods. A man of not many words for those closest to him. He sure did know how to entertain guests though. It was all a mask anyways. If anything he was doing them a service not using it with them.

“I almost ran into someone. Thankfully there was no drinks involved, I would’ve ruined a whole outfit.” Dick says, pointing back to you.

Tim follows his finger over to where you and Fallon are standing. 

“Oh, that’s who delivered me that letter the other day. Speaking of which, there was another one addressed to you Bruce.” he says.

Bruce nods his head once, “I know I saw it the other night when you passed out on your desk. At some point we’re gonna have a conversation about your sleeping habits.”

Jason walks up to the three men. 

“You’ll never correct it. He’s more of a bat than you.” he says.

Bruce is doing double the work. He’s listening to the conversation happening in front of him about Tim’s horrible sleeping schedule or lack thereof. While he looks over at you. The person Tim said delivered the letter.

His child.

#dc #batman #Dick Grayson x reader #Tim Drake x reader #Jason Todd x reader #batman x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #dc x reader #PAST LIVES #redhood x reader

[stardustincarnate]

CONFESSION // Mello x Reader

word count : 4016 genre : fluff a/n : i haven’t gotten over my writer’s block, so yes -- here i am, once again posting old fics from my wattpad account. 

Today is the day.

After contemplating about it for a couple of weeks and confiding it to his best pal, Matt, Mello has finally decided to confess his feelings for you tonight, exploiting the situation where you two will normally go riding on the city streets during Friday midnights such as this one.

To say the least, he isn't the best in this kind of thing— love, that is. Before, all he could think about was one thing which was proving that he's better than Near, and besides, no one really piqued his interest. But then the enigma that you are came.

You can be cunningly evil at times if you want to. You'll often say to the ones you've fooled or to the other mafia members, "It's nothing personal, it's just business." You also have a harsh mouth as he would like to describe. Anything that comes out of it may sound derisive or blatant, but it's basically the truth. You don't sugarcoat things— you don't even try to. Although sometimes you seem to make the truth more cruel than it really is, which makes you look too intimidating for the others. They're only thankful that you don't talk very often and only will if you have something conducive to say.

But that's not all that you are. Mello could feel it, so he grew curious of you. Just a mere speck of curiosity, but then it grew. He wanted to talk to you, but then he asked himself what's the point of doing so, thus he disregarded the idea. That's why you developed a friendship with Matt, who you think is really fun to be with, first. Then as your friendship grew, he thought of introducing you to Mello, and that's when it began. To be frank the beginning of your friendship wasn't easy, and to think that friendship only started growing not until you celebrated a year and a half of being with the mafia.

It was a long process, but in the end, it was worth the wait. Day by day he started lowering the walls he barricaded himself with, and same as you. He became really outgoing and deep down truly caring as your friend, like he is with Matt, because after all you two are the only family he has. And— let's not forget his strange addiction with chocolates! And, well, you like it.

You like him.

Mello knows this as well. He knows that his feelings are reciprocated and he's happy with that. But the question is, who's going to make the first move? Certainly not you. Between fighting the devil and confessing your feelings for someone, you'd probably choose the former. You don't seem like the kind of person who will make the first move. He as well is like that.

And that leads us to his acquiescence of doing it instead. Did he have a choice? Well, maybe, if one considers you doing it instead, but that will definitely take several months, or even years, from now. And he can't wait that long! What if you suddenly start to develop feelings for another person? He can't lose you, you that is just in front of his eyes, one step away from him. He needs to grab the opportunity while it still is there.

Because with you, he feels happy and contented. And for the first time he finally feels like he is number one.

And he really is, in your heart.

"Wooh!"

Matt exclaims after slamming the door, causing Mello to jolt upwards from his reverie. "You know I almost got caught by another mem!"

"Is it done?"

"Of course."

"Hm. You sure this suggestion is for the better? You know how scary that woman can be when she's mad. Especially after finding out that her tires have been flattened."

"Didn't you say you wanted something more romantic tonight? So, I thought of flattening her tires so she can't use her own scooter, that way she can ride with you."

"Uh-uh... Is it romantic though?"

"You two will be close enough. And—no perverted thoughts—she gets to wrap her arms around you while riding. If that's not romantic, I literally don't know what is."

"I'm having qualms about this one."

"What? I'm just as clueless as you are when it comes to romance. I'm doing my best here to help you ya know?"

"I know, I know. Sorry."

"It's your fault you fell in love with her." Matt jests, chuckling. But he immediately behaves himself when he sees that deadly glare of his friend. "Hey! I was only kidding! Don't look at me like that, Mels. You're creeping me out."

"Hah. But I guess you're right. My fault. And great— now I'm having more doubts than before and feeling.. tentative."

"The almighty Mello is nervous? Wow. I never thought I'd live to see this day!"

"Say one more word and I'll make sure it's the last you'll ever emit."

"HE-HE-HEY! Now you're just being belligerent. Don't worry. I'm sure you two will come back here as a couple. Swear it on my life. So stop doubting yourself. And just.. don't act awkward and dorky when confessing towards your little devil."

"Just how am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know. Just don't."

Mello heaves a sigh. "Sometimes I do wonder if you're really the smart Matt they used to talk about back in the orphanage."

Matt only grins. He's about to reply, but then they both hear footsteps—angry footsteps—coming closer.

"Oh, speaking of the devil. Here she comes. In three.. two.. one.."

With that, you kick the door open and look around. You look like you're about to whip someone's ass and the men can almost laugh at your reaction knowing the reason behind it. You give them a steely look when they unknowingly start to curve their lips to a grin. They quickly change their reaction.

"This has gotta be one of the worse days of my life!" You exclaim as you slump on the sofa beside Mello. "I can't go with you. I've got a flat tire, and I have no idea why. Someone must've done it.."

"Who would do such a terrible thing? Especially to you, the devil no one else even bothers to approach?" Mello momentarily glances at Matt before taking a bite of his chocolate, which you then steals from his grip. "But don't worry, I gotcha. You can ride me... with me I mean! You can ride with me, NOT RIDE ME—good Lord I'm sorry."

'Aha, and there goes Matt's reminder that I shouldn't act awkward.' He looks away with a blush.

"I think [Y/N] is okay with either of that—"

You raise an eyebrow at Matt. "Oh, you mean you Mathematics. You can ride him all you want so don't be shy and put my name in your shoes."

"That's not—!"

"—ANYWAYS, Willy Wonka, you sure you okay with me riding with you? You won't mind?"

"Jesus, stop calling me that! And yes. You're my friend so I won't mind."

"Thanks mate!" To his surprise, you hug him from the side. And you are hugging him a little too much. "You know I've always wanted to ride your motor. It looks cooler than mine."

"Ah.. well— you're squeezing me a bit too much.. don't you think?"

You pull away and snicker. "Sorry. You're like a marshmallow that I just want to squeeze sometimes."

"EHEM. Pardon me, will you? I need to go to the restroom."

Matt stands up, thinking that his job here as cupid is done—or not quite yet. He has one last plan in mind. And even he isn't sure that that plan is going to make things better or worse.

"Enjoy taking another dump!" You shout as he leaves the room, making sure to lock it. Now you and Mello are completely alone, facing one another in utter silence. And it's too silent that you can hear some of the other mafia members arguing in a distant room. You can even hear someone moaning. Mello can hear it too.

You both give each other a look that only you two can understand.

"Oof. Must be nice. Err, so anyways," you start. "The usual place tonight?" And by that you mean stopping by to go atop a dilapidated building in a forsaken road to stargaze with him for ten minutes. You two make sure to always include going there to find tranquility in the stars and with each other. It temporarily removes all the problems and worries you have.

With Mello ruefully shaking his head, you frown. He puts an arm over your shoulder and nods reassuringly instead. You hide a smile.

"We can do that next week or earlier if we're not too preoccupied so don't be so glum. I'll be taking you somewhere new. I'm sure you'll like it."

"I hope so. Otherwise I'm gonna kick your ass."

"You'll be the one getting your ass kicked it if you don't give me back my chocolate right now."

"But I need chocolate too! Chocolate makes you happy. So I need it, 'kay?!"

"As far as I know that chocolate is mine and not yours???"

"But I'm your friend aren't I? You still have a lot of stock in there I'm sure."

"I'm running out of chocolates so give it back you little demon."

He hastily maneuvers before you can even stand up and try running away. He seizes your wrists and places your arms behind your back to prevent you from moving. Since you two are facing each other instead of him being behind you, the position is rather awkward. The proximity of your faces makes both of you blush and in an instance he backs away. You cackle in triumph as to his dismay of not getting his chocolate back.

You look at your wristwatch before taking a bite of the sweet. "Well Marsh-Mello, what are we waiting for? Let's hit the road! I'm already bored." You hold his hand the moment he stands up and you two run outside.

Mello throws the helmet to you which almost hit your face, earning an irked look from you. He then starts the engine as you wear your helmet.

When he starts to move just before you can take a seat, you panic. Of course he only wants to toy with you. He stops at a corner and waits for you, who's running and ready to smash his face. You pant as you finally reach him.

"You little bastard! Why'd you have to make me suffer?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You groan and then sit behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. The closeness of your bodies make you both blush. He makes sure you're all set before once again driving in a high speed that made you hug him tighter. You've always known that he drives this fast, but to experience it yourself? It feels like your skin is being blown away and seperated from your bones.

"W-Would you mind slowing down, just a bit?"

"Come on [Y/N], that's not fun."

"So you call this fun? You're gonna kill us both. I'm too beautiful to die right now!"

"Tsk. You're no fun." You're about to make a rebuttal but he slows down reluctantly and matches the speed you will normally drive at. You sigh in relief and absently rests your chin on his right shoulder, looking at the stores, buildings, and a few people walking on the sidewalk which you are hastily passing by. On your left you see numbered vehicles and a few more buildings.

You're enjoying the ride, however, you hear the tire from behind pop. That is already bad, and worse comes when the front one pops too. He goes to the side before halting.

"Shit! Just our luck!"

"Haha seems like you and I share the same fate, huh? Goals."

Mello sighs as a realization dawns him.

'Matt.. you little shit.'

"Whadda we do now?" You worriedly ask.

"We're still halfway to the place I'm taking you and this happens.. I suppose I can just park this somewhere. You wouldn't mind walking, would you?"

"Sounds fine with me then."

He nods and parks the motor beside a bicycle and a car in front of a store, placing a tracker in it just in case it gets stolen. But if it ever does, he can just get another one. Legally or not. Doesn't matter.

In silence, you and Mello start walking side by side. Arriving upon a city bridge you can't help but stare at the river. The limit to what you can see on its side is a lively city despite the hour, with skyscrapers and billboard signs lit up. You can hear the occasional, distant sounds of car engines.

You avert your gaze back in the front, meeting chatty people on your way who are walking opposite to you and Mello. You realize that they're mostly couples who are matching clothes and openly talking, not caring if they're to be heard by others. Mello also notices, and not only that but the way you two undeniably look like one. Without any intentions, your clothes match. Not that it's a big deal since everyday you two wear black, but because of your surroundings, he might as well seize the opportunity.

Beaming from ear to ear, he holds your hand and intertwines your fingers together. You're confused, but at the same time liking it, a blush creeping on your face.

"Don't mind if I do. We don't wanna look like a couple who can't bear with each other after some kind of quarrel, do we?"

"But we're not a couple."

"No, not yet."

You stop and raise an eyebrow.

"Oop. Did I say that out loud? My bad."

He cheekily grins. It's only a joke, you think, but at the same time you wish that he's not joking—which he really isn't.

"Hey, how long are we going to walk?"

"Why? Are your feet giving up already? Want a piggyback?"

You completely turn red. He smiles at that.

"Nah.. I—"

"Don't waste the opportunity. I might change my mind later."

"I don't care. This is enough."

You squeeze his hand tightly—too tight that he swears he feel his phalanges breaking—but unexpectedly, he just moans. And people look at the two of you.

"The fuck was that?!? I didn't know you were some kind of masochist!"

"DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO SAY IT OUT LOUD?"

"AHA so you do admit being a masochist!!"

"WHAT? NO! I'M NOT!"

"Why so defensive now?"

"Because people are hearing you???"

"Let them! HAHAHAHA! MY BOYFRIEND IS A MASOCHIST! ISN'T THAT CUTE??"

But after realizing what you just said, you stop and gnaw your lower lip.

"Oh earth swallow me right now.. Sorry! God I'm embarrassed. You're not my boyfriend—"

"Didn't I tell you? Not yet."

You punch his shoulder playfully. "Stop joking around! I might actually believe you ya know?"

"Who said I was joking?"

"..Of course you are—"

"—OH, here we are!"

He diverts the topic, leaving you to slightly pout to yourself as he turns left to an unoccupied and dark area, pulling you to the railing where you two halt and see the perfect angle to view the city and the river from. The water and its light ripples glimmer under the moonlight as the brisk wind hits your skin, making you slightly shiver. Mello notices this and takes off his jacket, insisting you should wear it instead. You don't argue.

"Mello, this is.. magnificent. And a nice spot to stargaze as well! It's pretty wherever I lay my eyes on."

"Except behind us, maybe. You don't like trees that much."

You cackle. "They give me the creeps, especially during night. But at least we don't have to face that way, do we?"

He shakes his head as he laughs, inclining himself closer to you. He places his hands just beside yours on the railing, looking up and then looking at you, who's still busy admiring the sky.

He can't help but smile admiring you in your adorable placidity.

"The stars are pretty tonight." You say as you notice him looking at you in your peripheral vision.

"You always say that. They're always pretty. Sparkly."

"Mesmerizing to look at." You add. He nods, still staring at you.

"That's why I love the stars.."

"Uh huh. And chocolate." You grin.

"And you."

You stand flabbergasted, daring not to look at him directly. Your heart feels like it's about to jolt out of your chest. Your fingers begin to tremble on their own as you feel something intangible whirling inside your stomach. You know what it is—and he's making your heart flutter. But you can't trust this feeling as you aren't even sure if he's joking or not. And if he is, you kinda hate it. You want it to be real.

"Aye, don't flirt with me. That's so not you." You snap, rolling your eyes.

It doesn't take him too long to perceive what's on your mind. He taps your shoulder before sitting on the railing, inviting you to join him. You're a little hesitant for the fear of falling to the water. And when it comes to this kind of thing, you don't trust Mello. You're sure he'll eventually push you. The number of times he had done this to you in some places before is something you can't even count anymore.

"C'mon [Y/N]. Don't be scared. I won't push you. Or if I do, you're free to drag me as well."

"Tch. So you do intend to push me." Nevertheless, you sit beside him and grip the bars tightly with your clammy palms. Luckily the concrete extends six inches after the railing.

Mello feels like you two aren't physically close enough, and he thinks it's not 'romantic' enough, so he slides even closer to you until his palm is already above your hand and your shoulders bump.

"Oh, no. You keep your distance, Mr. Wonka."

"It's not like we're having social distancing here you know?"

"You're too close."

"And I'm going to get even closer.."

He whispers, his hot breath tickling the side of your neck. You sigh and face him, and your noses bump. You urgently back away and you almost slip if not for him.

"What's gotten into your system for you to act so flirty all of a sudden?"

"You."

"MELLO!! I'm damn serious. Like, all the jests can wait but for now, just.. don't flirt with me. I'm in no mood."

"Aww, trying to shoo me away huh? After stealing my heart and my chocolates, here you are suddenly breaking my poor, poor heart."

"One more attempt and I'm going to drown you."

"Heeeeeeey. Don't be so vicious now." He softly bumps your shoulder with his. You only click your tongue in annoyance.

"Seriously. Stop messing with me. I hate you."

"No you don't. I'm not messing with you. I'm serious—"

"Tch. Serious my ass."

"..You don't have one—"

"See? You little fucktard. You keep on messing with me. So just stop flirting with me. I swear I'll kill you if you continue."

"Whaaat? Seriously, I'm not messing with you. You gotta—"

"Mels, no, no, no. You can poke fun of me, push me off right now or anything but just don't flirt with me. You're a bastard for torturing my feelings. That's not cool at all. Damn it," you spat. He keep his silence, his mouth starting to gape.

"Don't make me assume things because I really, really, really like you!"

The words pour out unbidden. Your voice resonates and immediately you shut up and look down with a furious blush.

'That's it, congratulations for possibly ruining your friendship.' You think as you bite your lower lip.

Your blush vanishes as the fluttering feeling in your chest does, being replaced with instant regret, as if your heart has dropped to your stomach.

The look of surprise in his face turns to a cheeky grin. With much glee, he chuckles.

"I've always known this devil is a pure softie inside..."

"M-Mello.."

You are about to tear up, but then he says, "Do you know what you just did? You ruined my plans, [Y/N]! But I suppose I can forgive you for that."

"What?? Plan?? Damn you, damn you, damn you! I knew you were up to no good! Damn it, Mello! Pretend this night never existed. I'm outta here—"

"No no, it's not what you think. 'I like you' was supposed to be my line, not yours!" He can't help but burst out laughing, leaving you momentarily dazed, but then when you realize what he possibly meant by that, it's as if your heart has come back to life. Your face turns red.

"I was going to confess to you tonight, but it looks like the tables had turned. You are a.. partypooper! Do you know how many times I've practice saying that in front of Matt, just to end up with you saying it instead of me? Unbelievable!"

He wheezes, catches his breath, then looks at you. "And look, I'm not complaining, alright? Haha.. but the way things turn out to be in the end is just so.. whimsical. But I'm gonna say it anyway: I like you. I like you a lot."

You scrutinize his facial expression just to be sure that he's serious, and you confirm he truly is. He's absently smiling, and just from staring at you is the reason. Rapture dances in his eyes. He looks genuinely happy and candid at the moment. And here you are left speechless, only staring at him as a sheepish smile slowly invades your face.

You almost lose your grip on the railing when he briefly kisses your cheek. And again, nothing comes out of your mouth.

"Do I also need to say that I wanna be your boyfriend? Because, isn't it obvious?"

"Mello..."

"No pressure, [Y/N]. If we both like each other but you're not yet ready for a relationship, I understand and I can wait."

"Well.." You hide your face on his shoulder because you feel like the longer you stare at him, the more probable it is that you'll faint. "Uhm.. Err... Have you ever been.. in a relationship?"

"No, not really. You will be my first one. If you accept."

You smile. "Well, same as you here."

"Really? I thought you already had a partner or two before."

"I had no time to be in love. Add that some of the people I was acquainted with sucked, and the kind ones.. well, let's just say that they seemed to be missing something.. something that, I suppose, only you have. And.. it will really make me happy if you are to be my first," you lift your head up to meet his eyes. "So I accept."

"You serious?? Right here?? Right now??"

"Need I repeat myself, partner-in-crime?"

"Haha! Course not!"

You peck his cheek as your warm smile broadens. You then rest your head on his shoulder, your eyes never leaving the distant city as he wraps an arm around your waist, meticulous so that you two wouldn't slip from the railing and fall down.

"I think it's safe to assume now that you're the one behind flattening my tires. And just so I can ride with you. You're a cunning man, so I suppose you also did something with your own scooter just so we could walk together, like couples in movies. Haha I never thought you'd think something like that!"

"It was Matt's idea. Swear. He thought it was more romantic that way. And he's probably the one who rigged my scooter. He really can be a huge pain in the ass sometimes."

"Like you are."

"Aw come on. Take that back you little demon!"

"Noooopeeeee! Pfahahaha— AAAA SHIT!"

And with that, you both plunge into the frigid water with a loud splash.

#death note #death note x reader #death note x you #death note imagine #mello x reader #Mello Death Note #death note mello #mihael keehl #death note fluff #anime x reader #character x you #death note x y/n #matt death note #death note oneshot

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

#batfam #dc #batfamily #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #barbara gordon #oracle #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #stephanie brown #spoiler #cassandra cain #batgirl #duke thomas #signal #damian wayne #robin #alfred pennyworth #comment your fav #or don't #maybe ill do one for the arrow fam #idk #im beginning to Lose It guys #quarantinelife #batsinquarantine

[ratsoh-writes]

US, SF(P), FS(R), HT, and HF!

He gets a weird text from his best friend/crush’s number. MySquishy: Hey, this is (name)’s coworker. I just dropped her off at home cuz I gotta pick up my little siblings but idk if she should be left alone. She got hungry and asked if she could raid my locker. I said yeah, but i forgot to warn her and she found my stash. I didn’t notice until she was 4 cookies in and she’s pretty out of it right now. She said I could text you. I am so so sorry. When he goes to her apartment, he finds her laying on the coffee table but when she sees him her expression gets all wobbly and she beckons him fourth with her infamous grabby hands. When he goes over to her, she latches onto him like a lifeline and starts crying about how much she loves him and how he’s her favorite skeleton in the whole world, and also she feels like the world is caving in on itself, and he's sexy, and she can't remember anything before the last two words she said. Doesn’t seem like she’s letting go anytime soon,,, (I know Swapell is a questionable choice but I want to know how Cash would handle it if his S/O didn't purposely get high and instead this is her first time stoned and she's bordering on the edge of a bad trip)

Star: ok first of all, bringing edibles to work isn’t exactly the smartest thing to do, so when coworker drops crush off, Star levels them with the stern *I know you’re doing something stupid but am letting you off with a warning* police expression. After they sheepishly leave, Star just sighs and does his best to keep crush distracted. You’d be surprised about how many high people he’s tracked down and found on the job. Star is pretty good at talking them down

Honey: he feels for crush right now because he’s been through the same situation before lol. When honey was 16, he thought it’d be a great idea to experiment and managed to nick some monster cannabis. He was trying to figure out the best way to smoke it when he heard his brother come home, so naturally honey panicked and he ATE THE WHOLE BAG so Star wouldn’t find it. Needless to say he was tripping for two whole days and never touched the stuff again. Anyways, going back to crush, honey knows what it’s like to have a bad trip and won’t hold anything they say against them. He figures it’s just the brownies talking

Mal: he’s mad, but not at crush, at coworker. Like mal is hopping mad, and if he wasn’t taking care of crush right now, he would’ve gone over and ripped coworker a new one. Luckily for the worker, crush takes the whole night to come down from their high which gives mal plenty of time to cool off

Cash: he’s both grateful and sad to learn that his crush is an affectionate high. Cash is fine cuddling with them the whole night, but winds up taking them home with him so that he at least knows his brother is around too. Cash would’ve been fine just being with crush, but he feels more secure knowing someone sound of mind is there to talk him out of any stupid decisions

Lord: oh eff his life. This is is crush, not SO, so lord is still in the no touchy stage. Basically meaning, after a couple of attempts from crush for hugging him, lord will dump them on mutt and go hide somewhere coward

Mutt: he totally takes advantage of this and has crush saying all kinds of silly things while he records. Mutt will also have them stay the night and lends them one of his old shirts as pajamas. He can’t wait to see the embarrassed flush on his crush’s face when they wake up in his bed. Nothing happened, he’s just a sadist

Oak: lol what? Well he has coworker drop crush off at his place first. And if cuddles makes them shut up and stay happy, then oak figures he might as well have a movie night

Willow: he winds up stressing crush out with all his fretting and nerves over their high. Oak ends up banning willow from work and basically forcing him to relax for the night with crush. Now crush is snuggled against their dream man out cold, willow is internally screaming, and oak is a smug b*stard

Rust: he’ll be a bit embarrassed from all of crush’s attention, but otherwise takes it like a champ. Working with emotional kids has made rust pretty good at comforting crying people.

Noir: oh stars, he’ll do anything if they’ll JUST STOP CRYING. Pride prevents noir from running to rust for help. So poor noir will have a huge wet spot on his shirt by the time crush finally tires themself out. Noir doesn’t even care about what they were saying. He says wired stuff when he’s drunk too. It’s not a big deal

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #underswap #swapfell #horrortale #fellswap red #horrorfell

[possumcorpse]

im bored so i dump a bunch of info about my destiny ocs

Fireteam Penta(???)

Aurora

A human hunter and a freelance lightbearer or whatever. She only helps the Vanguard because a girl gotta get glimmer from somewhere. how else will she eat

Her ghost is named Oxford, primarily because he doesn't shut the fuck up and is a big fucking nerd. He uses big words like "preposterous" and "flabbergasted" and "oh-my-god-watch-out-for-the-legionary-behind-you". Despite all this, Oxford has a connection or something to Aurora and they work well together

Aurora wanted to know about her past at first but has since abandoned the thought of pursuing it. At the end of the day, she mostly tries to live a normal life and not being a guardian

She wears a red scarf wherever she goes. Comfort scarf!

Literally a catgirl. she has cat ears

Valkyrie-6

An exo warlock who's a masochist. There's something wrong with her tbh

Her entire fashion game is between victorian era vampire x biblically accurate angel

Her favorite weapon is the exotic handcanon, Crimson

She has faint memories of a life during the golden age, but it's hard to remember. There's something about being in an auditorium, in front of a blur of bodies watching her. There's music playing. She doesn't bother thinking about it much

Winchester

An awoken titan who vanished when Mars was taken by the Darkness. When Mars returned, she was found by other guardians unharmed(?). To her, no time has passed. She doesn't know what happened.

Probably the youngest of the fireteam? Who knows

Her ghost, Ayre, named her Winchester after they saw she was like super good at scout rifles and stuff. dmt gang

Winchester would probably have been a hunter if she wasn't a titan. She likes to be alone most of the time and go off on her own to different places. but also she likes punching

she's tiny. she has a big shield. she strike

Her eyes also glow a bright green, kinda like Eris Morn

also for reference, i dont know much about destiny either lol

#yall can tell ive played hunter the most LMAO #im playing my titan for the entire season this season #at least for the campaign and anything major #i need to get chests n whatnot on my warlock and hunter too #destiny 2 #d2 #ocs #original characters

[beann-e]

I wrote ‘ thank you for 300 followers ‘ angst ☹️

you knew this was wrong you knew it yet here you were standing in front of the stadium your heart beating through the sweater you wore to fight off the cold you had

to fight off the tears

the heartbreak and not only that but the pure sadness you felt for yourself

you moved through the hallways as you took a deep breath hand steady on the door. You felt as the emptiness of the hallway washed over you

“ once you do that y/n your not only on bad terms with one of them but both “

You dropped your head as you heard kageyamas voice come out softly.

He knew right now what you didn’t need was insensitive comments he was sure you’d get those inside

“y/n just don’t go in “ you shuddered when he reached out his hand to grab your arms and pull you back but your grip only tightening on the door

“ fine your funeral “ he moved back hurt at the action walking inside the gym your body following as he held the door open for you. “ you won’t be alone— I mean yeah kind of because your like dead but, i’ll — i’ll go “

Small steps echoing through the now quiet gym as everyone had been cleaning up to end practice but now all stood staring down at you

‘of course right now they all have to be tall ‘

“ ah ah y/n —w-what are you doing here “

you slowly pulled your head up as you toyed with your backpack straps in anxiousness

“ yeah —y/n “ that annoying voice let out as you heard footsteps “ what are you doing here “

you bit you lip as you felt your hands go sweaty

‘ I have to answer him ‘

“ I just —yams can we talk please “

he looked around in nervousness as he shook his head up and down “ yeah y-yeah sure “

“ thank yo-“

“ well I think that it seems of lesser importance if you waited all day to tell him “

tsukishimas voice continued “ I mean school just let out —could of told him in class “

he stepped closer to you “ lunch —he was with you oh no wait you sat somewhere else “

his voice was questioning as you pressed your teeth harder into your lip “ or were you sitting on someone else “

“ tsukki “ yamaguchis voice came out in a squeal everyones body shaking as you felt people look to you and then back to the floor trying to save you the embarrassment

“ what their the one who’s clearly not being honest here “ his eyebrows tightned in disgust “ just fucking dump ‘em already they didn’t even come here to tell the truth “

“ yeah but they might have been willing to tsukki if you just “

“ if I what ? was nice about it like you are “

“ ye—“

“ that’s why your getting fucking cheated on right now yamaguchi “

your breath stopped as the room went even quieter you could feel your boyfriends eyes prickle with tears at the accusation “ I-“

your voice got cut off as yams spoke “ that’s not -why would — your your out of line “

“ i’m “

“ why else do you think their standing here — why they avoided you all fucking day “ he sighed “ yams come on don’t be so fucking dense over a s/o “

“ wait let’s talk about thi— “ sugawaras voice was civil as everyones pointed looks moved to him

“ please “ you cried tears already hanging off your lashes “ I—I didn’t cheat I didn’t “

you felt your body grow hot at the new tears and the warmth from someone’s eyes pressing down on your skin “ it wasn’t like that I just — please “

“ then what was it like because as far as I could tell “

“ no no we —we were just talking and I “

“ oh so sitting on someone else lap is talking — letting someone else feed you is talking —y/n how about cheering for someone else at a match your boyfriends on the same court as “

you felt your eyes go blurry “ tsukishima I didn’t — it didn’t feel like cheating just please “

“ it didn’t feel like cheating — then what did it feel like y/n ? because I know how it felt when my best friend was waking me up in the middle of the night in fear when he saw you getting your fucking face eaten at the summer vol-“

“ please I didn’t mean for it t—“

“ what y/n what ? everything I hear out of you is excuses—just own up to it already —that’s the least this new shitty person i’m looking at could do “

“ tsukishima let’s just “ daichi said trying to help calm the situation down “ it’s yamaguchi a — “

“ why do you care so much “ kageyamas voice came out in question as he sipped his milk

“ I mean it seems like it has more to do with them and Yamaguchi than you “

“ because I — “ he scoffed “ imagine getting woken up the whole time we were at the camp at 4 in the morning just to go with your best friend to watch his girlfriend kiss an asshole while he cries next to you—every single day for a week “

“ we—”

“ then they just lie the whole time even after they got caught In the act —I mean I got fucking proof —really “ he laughed “ it’s gotta be considered annoying at some point “

“ please i’m not lying he just “

“ who “ yamaguchis voice came out as you sucked in air “ please let’s just —let’s cut the s-shit who was it—we could never tell it was always so dark when you two met up “

your body dropped at the word he’d never cursed at you before

“ it was — “ you gulped you didn’t even know if the person actually liked you or if they were just doing it because you were the only real girl who spent the night in the same dorms due to lack of space but you liked him

you liked him enough to forget your own boyfriend

using the guy and the camp as if it were a spa retreat

How Had you messed up everything that brought you happiness in a short quick week

“ i’m so sorry “

“ you didn’t say the name “

“ what team “

“ a-aobi johesai “

his body stopped “ oika—“

“ THE GREAT KING “ hinata looked at you sadly “ I — I thought better of you y/n “

you cried more as tsukishima laughed “ yeah right not even him it’s someone else —even he wouldn’t stoop that low “

he looked down on you as he finally stood in front of you whispering “ what the fuck are you dragging this out for tell them who you cheated with— he’s not even ace “ his voice hurt you

“ he’s not captain he’s fucking— “

“ mattsukawa “

your body lifted as you let his name out

“ mattsukawa is who I was meeting with at night “

you let your bottom lip go as you took a deep breath heavy eyes now pulled up to meet everyone “ I didn’t mean for — I think he — I don’t know what happened one minute i was —we were sitting down and the next he wa—“

“ no “ kageyamas voice came out “ your the — “

you looked over at the tall male before directing your eyes to all the third years whos mouths were wide open

“ holy hell your the — your the person that everyone was talking about at the barbecue “

you felt your eyes drop

“ he — he talked about me“ your body fluttered

“ look at ‘em actually liking him “ tsukishima laughed scoffing at the end due to your small look of hope “ you still have a boyfriend y/n not for long but —seriously in his face”

“ uh y/n he “

“ no please I don’t —not here “ sugawaras voice came out caring “ let’s just tell them later “

“ no that’s not righ— “ asahis voice came out

“ he told everyone you were easy “ kageyama said as he crushed his milk box

“ he told everyone on that team that you were simple and that he swore he could get you easily boyfriend or not “

your body shook “ wha—huh — no you “

“ you were a bet y/n—nothing more ,nothing less “ kageyama stared you down eyes holding pain for you but, knowing this was your only chance to fix everything with yams if you knew the truth.

He knew the only way to get you out of this crush mindset was to be harsh

“ y/n we swear if we’d known he was talking about you we would’v-”

again sugawara was cut off eyes going straight to kageyama while his face held annoyance at the first year

“ he took a bet with some other asshole that he could —I don’t know what he meant but he said he could ‘tap that’ and if he could everyone on the team would owe him yen”

your heart fell and your body slumped “ I-I gave hi—I gave him everything “

“ everything ? “ daichis voice came out confused

“ y/n it was only a week long camp how did you? there wasn’t much to give “

your mind went blank as you felt your body grow cold eyes coming up to meet with a disgusted and hurt yamaguchi who stood in shock mouth wide open

“ y-y/n you didn’t “

“ i— I thought that —he talked me int—“

you watched as he moved quickly to the door the loud echo from the slam moving throughout the room

“ uh ? “ tsukishimas voice sounded confused as he lost what you meant not being able to decipher the situation anymore “ I don’t — I don’t get this part “

“ because you start shit tsukishima and don’t know the whole story “ kageyamas voice was crisp

you felt your legs turn to jelly as you back away from the rest of the males running out of the door and home pulling your phone out as you dialed the number you were given

“ yoohoo~ this is the fuckboy hotline how can he help you “

you could hear the laughs over the phone as mattsukawas voice came out in small protest in the background

Them finally calming down as oikawa spoke “ ok no but we’re in the middle of practice which one is this “

“ how much you wanna bet it’s the girl he talked to last match “

“ no no it’s gotta be the one from the market “

“ your all wrong it’s gotta be the person from camp “

they all laughed “ yeah right— that one had a boyfriend matsu-chan’s got no balls for that one “

“ even I know not to touch that one — tried it cause their hot but they weren’t interested in leaving the guy “ oikawas voice came out in a scoff “ y/n’s smart honestly —that’s why she’s with that nice guy cause she wants to be taken care of I doubt they gave in to an asshole like him “

“ but dude swear it they were all over him when he said that their boyfriend sent him to dump ‘em “

“ shit— you lie —they believed that “

“ I mean “ you could feel the shrug that took place over the phone

“ woke up with ‘em in the same room as us “

“ damn mattsu got the angel from camp “ you could feel oikawas pout

“ crap I really wanted her too anytime I tried they said they were happy with spotty boy “

iwazumis voice was questioning as you listened in breathing getting heavier “angel from camp ? what the hell— mattsu you played another one I thought I asked you to stop “

“ I-I did “

“ then who’s that “

your voice came out in tears as you spoke “ c-can I—can I please just talk to mattsukawa “

You just needed reassurance everyone was wrong they had to be —they were

he told you there was no one else that cared enough to tell you about yams cheating.

that yamaguchi trusted him to tell you because tsukishima hated you which, was totally believable after just now

that everyone was lying and he — he was right he had to be

“ holy shi— “ oikawas voice went high in a squeak as he heard the whimpers “ oh hell mattsu-chan —your doing extra spikes what’d you do —whoever this is their crying “

“ which one is it “

“ pl-please oikawa just its y/n just please — “

“ fuck fuck fuck — “ you heard mattsukawas voice come out in panic “ I—i’m not here “

your heart dropped

“ uh — hes not here we um“

“ who’s that which one is that “

you heard as oikawa tried to whisper in hopes you didn’t hear “ that’s— it’s the one he banged at camp for the dare— the crows manager — the freckled losers s/o “

“ t-they did it ? they —mattsu how’d you get that “

“ I just —I might’ve told ‘em their boyfriend didn’t want them anymore “

the team went silent “ i swear I didn’t expect anything other than a kiss so I could get my money but once I kissed em —I —I screwed up I went too fast and —you gotta get ‘em off the phone “

you could hear his panicking “ I took their virginity on accident i swear I swear—I swear “

your hand shook as cries poured from you hearing a louder scream ram into your ear form the other end of the phone

“ do you not feel ashamed “

iwaizumis loud voice rang out “ you—you asshole how dare you —how can you take something like that accidentally—how can you take that from them “

“ I swear I didn’t me—they were sad and i — I didn’t know how to help and we were already halfway there and— “

you heard as the phone dropped to the floor Iwas loud voice booming on the other line hearing the occasional grunt and shuffling on the floor

you ghosting your shaky thumb over the end call button until you felt someone else’s hand lead yours to the red button

your body relaxing when you felt the hand you’d always loved to hold

relaxing into his back that pressed against your backpack only to feel him move away and his warm hand leave your own your hand moving out to grab his again as you turned around

“ no y/n “ his voice was so soft it hurt “ no you don’t get that — you don’t get my comfort “

you couldn’t even argue head looking to the gravely road

“ y’know if anybody I would have thought it’d be tsukishima “ he laughed a little “ that’s what I was afraid of y’know the whole time we dated I was scared you’d leave me for him — i was insecure really “

he shook his head “ but you always reassured me telling me you didn’t see him that way you didn’t like him there was nothing to worry about with him— and I just “ he scoffed his hand running over his face In exhaustion “ I guess I should have asked about other guys and not my fucking best friend— shouldn’t have had such a closed mind to be jealous of my best friend should have been jealous of every guy that passed my view when I was with you “

“ yams n— “

“ please don’t make this harder than it needs to be “ your head rose up at his words finally seeing his red stained eyes and floppy hair that he’d fixed desperately to cover them “ your already making it hard by standing there looking just as beautiful as you looked the day I stammered my way through asking you out “

he smiled “ come here “ you moved over slowly to his arms as he hugged you tightly “ yams please I didn’t mean— he just —he told me “

“ I know I know “ he rubbed your back as you calmed down into him his body encasing your own like a teddy bear that you needed to cry into after a hard day

“ we can fix it and we can just work through this —I know “

“ yeah your right “

he kissed the top of your head continuing to rub your back the moment feeling calm. You’d known yamaguchi wasnt one to keep grudges nor was he one to be mean. So this wasn’t very surprising for you.

You were thankful that he’d give you another chance that you even had a boyfriend like that it was truly a blessing for you causing you to hug him tighter

“ we— we can work through this “ he pulled back to look at you a smile on your face as you looked up at him his own mouth quirking up

“ separately “ he rubbed your arms up and down in a way of comfort “ don’t come to the next travel match y/n “

your face and heart dropped all at once “ but— yams i’m — im a manager “

“ yes I know but — the only reason why you were one was because you were my s/o they made an exception we had enough we only needed two”

“ wh— “

“ I think it’s best if we just go our separate ways — meaning you don’t have to pretend to like managing the team anymore and I can try to suck up my feelings for you “

he stepped back as he wiped his face “ i’m sorry but —i’m tired of getting walked over I need to make boundaries for myself and other people“

you shook silently head threatening to blow off in the amount of pain you were sheltering as he nodded towards your front door “ go on “

you looked between him and your house

“ I still wanna make sure you get in safely “

he smiled softly as you walked to your door moving to open it after toying with the lock

his eyes still on you until you walked in the house to look through the window him nodding twice to the floor, and putting his hand over his heart before he looked to your window he knew you always watched him when he left after dropping you off

he finished by waving his hand and turning around to leave

your back hitting the door and falling to the floor quickly tears falling hard and fast

you weren’t crying because he left you

you weren’t crying because you’d cheated

you were crying because he still said he loved you in the hand signals you two created for each other and gave you the same goodbye he’d given you everyday for two years since grade school

#yamaguchi tadashi #hq yamaguchi #yamaguchi scenario #yamaguchi headcanons #yamaguchi x reader #hq yams #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima angst #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima hcs #hq x you #hq angst #hq tsukishima #mattsukawa issei #mattsukawa x reader #karasuno #aoba jōsai #oikawa angst #haikyuu angst #kageyama #iwazumi hajime #haikyuu iwazumi #haikyuu x s/o #tadashi yamaguchi x reader #hq tadashi #tadashi angst

[maria-scribbles]

we’re just like kevin bacon!

prompt: for @bricksatanakinswindow​ ‘s halloween writing challenge! this was initially inspired by "mortal enemies accidentally showing up in matching costumes every fucking year" but once i started writing it kind of snowballed from there and i ended up with this lmao

ship: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k+ (i think this is the shortest thing i’ve ever written lol)

warnings n stuff: childhood enemies to lovers, swearing, mention of underage drinking, halloween shenanigans, makin' out, smut (not too explicit but i still think it's spicy enough to need an 18+ warning), jj and the reader being cute lil nerds and quoting movies back and forth, the author blatantly using some of her personal favorite movies/shows as inspiration for costumes, the author also making her opinions on ghostbusters clear (instead of the human trash can peter venkman, stan the adorable dork known as ray stantz for clear skin)

a/n: this was hella fun to write and i already have so many more halloween fic ideas bouncing around in my head (it's spoopy season, y'all!). title of this fic comes from guardians of the galaxy 😊

Of three things in life you were certain.

One, you loved Halloween more than any other holiday of the year; after all, you and your twin brother Mason were born just after one AM on October 31st so you could say a penchant for all things spooky was in your blood.

Two, Sarah Cameron was your best friend. Being neighbors your whole lives, the two of you were thick as thieves and spent almost every day together, much to the annoyance of both your brother and hers; as much as you loved Mason, sometimes you wished Sarah was your twin instead of him and you knew without question the blonde girl would trade Rafe for you in a heartbeat (with little to no guilt, in fact.). 

And three, you absolutely hated JJ Maybank. You'd been at the top of each other's shit lists ever since you were both six years old, when he made fun of you for the stutter you'd had back then and you dumped a full milkshake over his head as payback, and even as time passed and you grew out of your stutter, your disdain for the blond pogue only grew stronger. He was infuriating, plain and simple, and the mere mention of his name made steam come out of your ears. 

The boy was just good at being annoying and seemed to love pushing everyone's buttons, yours especially, and always found ways to get under your skin without fail every single time your paths crossed (which was way too often for your liking, but running in the same friend group made it hard to avoid each other). It became an unspoken thing, the great Y/L/N-Maybank feud, with both of you trying your hardest to piss the other off until one of your mutual friends or your brother broke it up and pulled you to opposite corners of the metaphorical ring to take a breather before the next round.

You'd never admit it but deep down you kind of liked it. You liked being at the center of his attention (granted, it was antagonistic in nature but it was attention all the same), his bright blue eyes following your every move whenever you were within his sights and you liked that you were in his thoughts even when you weren't around, a fact proven to you by the tiny notebook Kiara carried around in her pocket recording how many times he mentioned your name. Knowing you lived rent free in his mind brought you an embarrassingly high level of satisfaction that you'd absolutely deny feeling if anyone ever asked, just as you'd deny the fact that he lived rent free in your mind, too.

...At least for most of the year. Everyone, including JJ, knew that to you Halloween was a damn-near sacred time. He knew never to mess with you during the weeks leading up to the holiday and definitely never on the day itself, lest he want yet another milkshake dumped over his blond head. He knew that, the whole damn island knew he did and yet...somehow, some way, he managed to get your blood boiling every. single. year. And you, like a masochistic idiot, let him. 

It all started when you were twelve.

You, Mason, and your friends were finally old enough to go to the annual youth party held on the sprawling lawn of the Island Club, an event you'd been looking forward to attending every Halloween since you were eight. Of course, you were excited for the dancing and games and food but the thing you couldn't wait the most for was the costume contest, a chance to show off your skills and prove to everyone on the island that Y/N Y/L/N was the undisputed queen of Halloween.

So what if your hopes were a little too high (considering you were only twelve and going up against kids ranging from your age to fifteen), you were still gonna give it your all; you spent weeks perfecting not only your costume but your brother's as well with your mom, helping her cut fabric and sew zippers, styling wigs and painting props until everything was perfect. 

"Oh my God, Y/N!" Sarah, dressed as Cinderella, yelled from the passenger seat of her dad's SUV when they swung by to pick you up. "You look amazing!"

"So do you!" You said, slipping into the back seat in between a miserable-looking Rafe as Sarah Sanderson ("I lost a bet," he explained with a scowl) and Mason, holding your mini R2-D2 on your lap. Was it kind of cheesy, dressing up as the most iconic twins in movie history? Probably, but you really didn't care because Leia Organa was a total boss bitch and Mason was practically over the moon that he got to be his ultimate silver screen hero and swing around his very own lightsaber as Luke Skywalker.

"The Force is strong with you two." Ward joked, earning an eye roll from both of his children as he drove to the Island Club to drop you off. Rafe immediately disappeared into the crowd to meet up with Topper and Kelce and the three of you went off to find your own friends, skirting around the edge of the party toward the snack tables, also known as the most likely place for them to be.  

You spotted Kiara first, looking like an actual princess in her Tiana costume and waved, smiling when she waved back and beckoned you over as she said something to Pope, dressed as Albert Einstein, that made him start laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?" You asked, reaching between them to grab two handfuls of pretzels and immediately dropping one into your brother's outstretched palm, careful to keep the sleeve of your white dress away from the bright orange-iced cupcakes on the table. 

The two of them exchanged a look that instantly made you realize something was Up™ but before either of them could answer, Mason asked around a mouthful of pretzels, "Where're Tweedledee and Tweedledum?"

"J, why didn't we think of that?" John B's voice came from somewhere over your shoulder and when you turned to face him, you nearly dropped both the droid cradled in the crook of your elbow and the snacks in your hand. Not because of John B and his hilarious Chewbacca costume but because of the fact that JJ Maybank, the one person you hated the most on the whole entire island, was dressed as Han freakin' Solo. 

"Yikes." Someone muttered behind you -it sounded like Sarah but you weren't really sure- and Mason nearly choked on his pretzels as he tried and failed miserably to keep himself from laughing. 

"You've gotta be kidding me." You huffed, rolling your eyes as JJ crossed his arms and glared in your direction, blaster hanging from the holster on his hip.

"Listen, Princess, I'm not too happy about this, either."

"Oh, shut up, you nerfherder."

"Who you calling-" Mason and John B cut in and pulled you both in opposite directions before either of you could turn it into a shouting match, your brother physically grabbing you around the waist and carrying you off while the latter caught the back of JJ's vest and dragged him away. Despite their best efforts to keep you apart, you ran into each other more times than you could count and spent a minute or two squabbling like cats and dogs each time until one of them intervened once again. It was childish, it was immature, and it was fun, even though you'd never, ever admit it. Ever.

You didn't win the costume contest that year in the way you'd imagined at all. Still, first place in the group category was a win in your book and it felt good, even if one of the members of your unintentional Star Wars posse was someone who tested every bit of patience you had. The four of you split the cash prize and you went home 25 bucks richer, stashing it away for next year's costume and pushing the thought of accidentally matching with your mortal enemy from your mind. 

You had no idea this thing was only just beginning.

The next year, you let Sarah and Kiara convince you to match with them and the three of you rolled up to the party as the Pink Ladies -you as Rizzo, Sarah as Sandy, Kiara as Frenchy- only to run right into the boys, your brother included, dressed as the T-Birds. John B, perfectly in character as Danny, immediately whisked Sarah off to dance while Pope, the most adorably awkward Doody you'd ever seen, went to grab some snacks with Kiara, leaving you stuck with the bane of your existence as, of course, fucking Kenickie (Mason, as Sonny, dipped sometime before then without you noticing). The two of you spent the whole evening glaring at each other and hurling insults back and forth at breakneck speed, more in character than either of you'd ever want to acknowledge and for the second year in a row, you won first place in the group costume category.

At fourteen, you went as Princess Buttercup and JJ showed up as Westley, fake sword in hand as he followed you around all night like an annoying fly, sarcastically drawling "as you wish" every time you so much as glanced in his direction. Your brother, dressed as Inigo Montoya, nearly pissed himself laughing and you wanted to snatch both of their prop swords and shove them up their asses. You came in first again in the group costume contest and begrudgingly split the prize three ways. 

At fifteen, you worked hard on a Dr. Ellie Sattler costume from Jurassic Park, he strolled in as a disheveled Dr. Alan Grant with mud splattered boots and tattered clothes, and you really regretted not taking the offer to be the Tai to Sarah's Cher and Kiara's Dionne. Once again, Mason laughed so hard his face turned red and you were tempted to grab the sword he was holding and beat him over the head with it, not just for laughing at you but also for the completely atrocious Jack Sparrow costume he wore. To your absolute horror, you and JJ won the contest in the duo category and you wanted to melt into the ground when they called you onto the makeshift stage to collect your reward. 

When you were sixteen, you and your friends "graduated" to the party held for the older teens inside the club itself. With costume rules a little more lax than they were for the younger kids, you decided to go as (an only slightly sexy) Janine Melnitz, complete with a prop telephone you answered every so often with a loud "Ghostbusters, whaddya want?!" much to the embarrassment of Mason, who was once again dressed as Luke Skywalker, this time in the fatigues he wore while training on Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back.

You strutted into the party in your heels and pencil skirt only to nearly fall flat on your face when you caught sight of JJ in a terrible black wig and glasses, proton pack strapped to his back and 'Spengler' printed on the front of his jumpsuit. Your brother winced when you all but screeched "Again?!" right into his ear and grabbed your elbow, dragging you over to an empty table and depositing you into an open chair.

"There's no way this is a coincidence anymore! He could've picked Venkman, with all the womanizing and lowkey being a creep and thinking he's God's gift to mankind? It would've been the perfect choice! He's not nearly adorable or dorky enough to be Stantz or sassy enough to be Winston-"

"Jesus, you have a lot of feelings about Ghostbusters," Mason muttered, rolling his eyes when you shot him a withering glare.

"Shut up! Listen to me, there's no way in hell Maybank randomly decided to be, out of alllll the 'Busters, Egon fuckin' Spengler, okay? He had to have somehow known I was coming as Janine and did it just to piss me off!"

Your brother heaved a deep, heavy sigh that made you want to smack him and fixed you with a deadpan stare. "Or, have you pulled your head out of your own ass long enough to think that maybe you're just becoming...predictable?"

You really did smack him then, hard on his exposed shoulder and he yelped, scowling as he rubbed at the red mark you left behind. "Ow! What the hell, bitch?!"

"Don't you dare call me predictable, you dickhead! I pride myself on my costumes being very unique and unexpected -you know, out of the box!"

"Hate to break it to you but they're not really out of the box if Maybank shows up in a matching one every single year." He said with an infuriating, shit-eating grin, patting your shoulder before straightening the plush Yoda strapped to his back. "I'm gonna go get some food, wanna come with?"

Still miffed at his comment, you shoved his arm away and glanced down at your lap, ignoring your brother's sassy "your loss" as he headed toward the snack tables. Not even a minute passed by before his empty seat was taken and you groaned when you looked up to see who it was, your eyes meeting a pair of bright blues behind tacky, oversized glasses. 

"Hi, Janine."

"...Egon."

The two of you sat in silence after that, watching the dancing crowd under the flashing neon lights and sparkling disco ball until you saw him turn to face you out of the corner of your eye.

"Why Janine?" 

"Huh?" You turned to face him, too, one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch as he gestured toward your costume.

"Why did you dress up as Janine, Y/L/N?"

"I've always liked her sassiness and 'I like to play racquetball.'" You offered a casual shrug of your shoulders and carefully stuck a finger under your wig to scratch an annoying itch above your ear. "Why'd you pick Egon, Maybank?"

"He's my favorite." He answered simply with his own shrug, shooting you a genuine, real smile that you, for who knows what reason, found yourself returning without a second thought. "Smart, hilarious -plus, 'I like to collect spores, mold, and fungus.'"

For the first time in your life, your eyes rolled out of amusement and not annoyance at something that JJ Maybank said and, to your complete surprise, it kind of felt...right. "Really? I'd have pegged you for a Venkman stan."

"Are you kidding? He's the worst!" 

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you'd sit across from your hated enemy, not only having a civil -hell, downright enjoyable- conversation but actually smiling right along with him, laughing at his jokes and doing your best to ignore the sudden flutter in your stomach each time you caught sight of his slightly crooked teeth when he grinned. You didn't even notice when your brother returned with Kiara, dressed as Moana, at his side and two heaping plates of snacks in his hands until his chair scraped gratingly across the hardwood floor. 

"Kie, are you seeing this? Pigs must be flying 'cause they're actually smiling at each other." Mason said, cackling as Kiara turned to squint out the window.

"Yeah, I think I see one or two soaring around out there." She giggled and sent a mischievous wink in your direction. With your face feeling like it was on fire, you flipped them both the bird and took off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving all your traitorous, confusing thoughts about JJ behind with the boy himself; it was Rafe's last party at the Club and he owed you a dance anyway, but even as your best friend's older brother, cute as hell in his Thor costume, playfully twirled you around the floor to the Ghostbusters theme song, you felt more than your partner's blue eyes on you.

To no one's surprise, you and JJ won the duo category for the second year in a row and when you joined him onstage to collect your prize and didn't feel like you'd rather die than be up there by his side, you suddenly realized you were only certain about two things in life instead of three. 

At seventeen, you were confident you and JJ wouldn't be matching for once (after last year, though, you were kind of thinking it wouldn't be that bad of a thing). You'd gone cult classic for your costume, pulling inspiration from your mom's favorite move, 1999's The Mummy, and put together a screen-accurate Evelyn Carnahan in her iconic black dress, including a handmade Book of the Dead and matching key. You blackmailed Mason with pictures of him, drunk as a skunk and dressed in your Janine costume from the previous year, and got him to go as Jonathan, complete with a pith helmet and prop bottle of The Glenlivet.  

But, as always, JJ managed to surprise you. You literally ran right into his chest and if it wasn't for his arms instantly wrapping tight around your waist, you would've bit it hard.

"Whoa, careful there," He said, one hand keeping you close while the other moved to help you hold the book in your arms. "'The Book of the Dead? Are you sure you wanna be messing around with this thing?'"

Of course he'd make the perfect Rick O'Connell, you thought as you playfully raised one eyebrow and curled your fingers around the strap of the gun holster draped over his shoulder. "'It's just a book. No harm ever came from reading a book.'"

Mason was a little too in character as well as he dramatically rolled his eyes and wandered off, muttering "puh-lease" under his breath and shooting Sarah a conspiratorial wink that you didn't see. The blonde girl glanced between the two of you -arms still around each other and identical smiles on your faces- and grinned. The party flew by in a blur of movie quotes, laughs, and more dances than you could count and by the time you made it home, 50 bucks in the pocket of your dress and another group costume win under your belt, you were almost positive you never actually hated JJ Maybank in the first place.

Now at eighteen, you pulled out all the stops for your last party at the Island Club. You'd spent the last few months slaving over your costume, sewing custom pieces, hand-crafting your prop, and spending way too much money on body makeup and a wig but when you saw the final product in the mirror, you knew it was all worth it. You were ready to slay the competition this year and take home first place for the final time.

Mason, indifferent as always about the contest but willing to do anything to keep those pictures from seeing the light of day, didn't protest one bit when you forced him into the matching costume you'd made for him -in typical Mason fashion, he liked that he didn't have to wear a shirt and could show off his muscles- and spent a few hours perfecting his makeup.

You felt on top of the world when you walked into the party that night as Gamora, a replica of her Godslayer sword in hand and skin painted a perfect shade of green, followed by your brother as Drax, already flexing for anyone and everyone looking his way. The rest of your friends came to win as well: John B and Sarah as Flynn Rider and Rapunzel, Kiara as Eleven, Pope as T'Challa, and, of course, JJ as Peter Quill, Baby Groot perched on his shoulder and twin blasters at his hips. 

"Lookin' good, Gamora!" He called over the music, shimmying his way over to you with some dance moves that would impress Star-Lord himself.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Quill." You replied in a sing-song voice, even as you took his outstretched hand and let him pull you into the crowd of bodies hopping up and down to some terrible EDM beat under the twirling disco ball.

"It got you out here with me, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes and hooked the sword to your belt before stepping closer and draping your arms around his neck, twirling your painted fingers in his hair. "Just remember, 'I know who you are, Peter Quill. And I'm not some starry-eyed waif here to succumb to your pelvic sorcery.'"

You should've known you spoke too soon the second you saw the spark in JJ's eyes that all but screamed 'wanna bet?'

And that's how you found yourself in the middle of the single hottest make out session you'd ever had the pleasure of participating in an hour later: back pressed against the locked door of someone's deserted office, legs wrapped tight around his waist and his hands hooked under your ass, both your sword and his blasters abandoned on the floor at his feet, and he was either a sinfully good kisser or trying really, really hard to blow your mind.  

"I'm not gonna end up green after this, am I?" He mumbled against your mouth before trailing his lips along your jaw and you breathed a laugh, tightening your grip on his hair.

"This is professional makeup, dumbass. It's gonna take more than some kissing to smudge it."

"I'm down for some smudging if you are." 

You pulled him back for another kiss in response and gasped into his mouth when he walked across the room, one strong arm reaching out to sweep whatever was on the desk to the floor before setting you down on it.

"Confident, are we?" 

JJ smirked at your breathless question and the way you hooked your ankles around the backs of his thighs to pull him closer. "So is that a yes to the smudging?"

"Just shut up and kiss me." 

He did -very well, you might add- and you kissed him back, untangling your hands from his hair to slide them under his jacket instead; you helped him push it off his shoulders and it had barely hit the ground along with poor Baby Groot before your fingers were tugging his shirt from the waistband of his pants.  

"Someone's impatient." He teased, leaning back just far enough to let you pull it over his head and toss it somewhere behind you.

"Someone doesn't know how to stop talking." You whispered your reply low in his ear and then trailed your lips down his neck, smiling in satisfaction at the tremble in his voice when you kissed the purple mark you'd left behind earlier.

"N-never was very good at that." 

"'You should've learned.'"

"'I don't learn, it's one of my issues.'"

One of his hands gripped your wig, pulling your head back a little roughly -you'd have so been into that if it had been your real hair he pulled- and you winced at the way the bobby pins holding it it place tugged painfully at your roots. "Ow, not so hard!"

"Wait, what the fuck? I thought you were wearing a wig!" 

"I am but it's still pinned to my actual hair!"

"Sorry, but how the hell was I supposed to know that?"

The sight of JJ's face slowly turning red made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire and so you just shook your head, mumbling "don't worry about it," before pressing your lips to his once again. He was gentler this time with the pulling and you dug your nails into his bare shoulders at the thrill of his mouth against the exposed column of your throat, leaning back further and further until you laid flat on the desk.

His fingers had just unbuttoned your pants when your phone started to ring from your pocket, blaring the Star Wars theme you had set as your twin's ringtone. 

"Mason's timing is impeccable," JJ said sarcastically, chuckling as you clamped a palm over his mouth and answered the call.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Jesus, no need to be pissy!" Mason loudly replied over the applause crackling through the phone's speaker. "I just thought you'd like to know that we just won best group costume with Maybank. Again." 

The blond winked at the mention of his last name and pulled your hand away from his mouth, pinning it to the desk beside you with one of his while the other started tugging your pants down over your hips.

"Oh, that's cool, Mase-" You inhaled sharply when his lips touched the edge of your underwear, so close to where you wanted him most but at the same time so far away, and your fingers held your phone in a white-knuckled grip. "But I-I'm kind of in the middle of doing someone -something!- right now."

"Smooth," JJ said, not even trying to be quiet as he released your pinned hand to finish pulling your boots off, along with your tight leather pants that he casually tossed aside. "And I knew you weren't green under these!" 

Your laugh quickly turned into a gasp when his fingers hooked under your panties and pulled those off, too, and the touch of his tongue against the skin of your inner thigh sent white-hot lightning racing through your veins; the phone slipped from your grip, falling with a clunk onto the desk as your fingers tangled in his hair and he lifted one of your knees over his shoulder.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now! I already know you're getting laid but I don't need to hear it." Mason's loud grumble drifted up through the speaker and if you weren't so preoccupied with the boy between your thighs doing some downright wicked things to you with his mouth, you might've noticed that your brother didn't actually sound that grumpy before he ended the call and your phone's screen went dark, right as you lost control of your voice.

"Fuck me."

"Funny, I thought that's what I was doing?" You felt more than heard his response against you and a shiver ran down your spine when his bright blue eyes flicked up to met yours in the dim light of the office.

"You know what I meant, Maybank."

"Trust me, Y/L/N, I know. Question is: where do you want me?"

You tugged on his hair, grinning wolfishly at the way his eyes fluttered closed and a low moan rose from his throat. "Everywhere in this damn room, starting right here."

"I was hoping you’d say that.”

- Back at the party, Mason looked up and met Sarah's gaze, both of her eyebrows raised expectantly as she asked, "Well?"

He took his time slipping his phone back into his pocket before giving her a quick nod, grinning triumphantly when she immediately burst into gleeful giggles.  

"Yes! I just knew they had a thing for each other! Mortal enemies, my ass."

"I think that was the very first time in my sister's life that she didn't give a shit about the contest." Mason said and reached over to snag a cookie from her plate, chuckling when she pushed his hand away from the chocolate chip ones and toward the peanut butter. "We couldn't have pulled this off without you. I mean, making sure they showed up in matching costumes every year? Genius, Sarah. Absolutely genius." 

The blonde girl grabbed her own cookie with a wink. "Think they'll ever figure it out?"

Your brother just threw his head back and laughed. "I hope not! I wanna save that story for my best man speech at their wedding."

taglist: @sinkbeneathwaves @cordeliascrown @maysbanks @jjpogueprincess @jiaraendgame @alexa-playafricabytoto @sexualparkour @agirlwholovescoffee​ 

#brickswritingchallenge #outer banks #jj maybank #obx fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #obx fanfic

[consumeconstantly]

Not a Saint or a Hero

Summary: To civilians, Ladybug is a hero. In the eyes of the law, Ladybug is a vigilante at best, and a villain at worst. 

______________________________________________________

Conquering the Parisian underworld is child’s play for Ladybug and her partner, Chat Noir. The ex-boss of the Parisian underworld, code name Hawkmoth, may have been good at pushing drugs and ruining people’s lives, but he was woefully incompetent at... basically everything else. Which meant that other than Hawkmoth and his direct underlings, there really wasn’t much of a structure at all that Ladybug had to be worried about. No cohesive unit, fighting as one, just easy pickings and an even easier way to convince the drug dealers, homeless, illegal fight rings, and various other under the radar activities to band together to topple Hawkmoth’s empire. 

Ladybug, after all, had experience with overthrowing established mafiosos. She did it once in Wenzhou at her mother’s side, another time in Beijing because somebody made the mistake of trying to push her into prostitution, and twice in Italy with her grandmother, code name Befana.

“Do you really have to leave, m’lady?”

Ladybug shrugs. “I trust you and the team to keep things up and running. We had a good run, but there’s a good structure in place now and Befana wants me to go with her to another country.”

Nobody says no to Befana, not unless they’re bullet proof. Ladybug may have high quality Kevlar sewn into every outfit she wears, but even she isn’t the biggest fan of the impact of a bullet. Depending on the gun, broken ribs are a kindness.

“I know you don’t get along with Queen Bee, and almost everyone else is out of the country, but you’re not going to say goodbye to Rena or Carapace?”

“It’s not like I’m going to be gone forever. Just a few months. A year at most.”

“Promise me you’ll come back, m’lady?”

Ladybug puts a hand on her partner's shoulder. “You know I can’t make promises like that.”

Chat pauses, dull thud of the rave music filling in their silence. 

He swirls the whiskey in his glass. “Stay safe, Bug. Play it smart.”

“I always do.”

#

It comes as no surprise that Befana dumps her in the middle of one of the most crime infested cities world wide without a backwards glance. Her granddaughter is grown up now, after all. 

“Have fun, darling. Black Mask is particularly nasty, make sure to watch out for his assistant, she’s very sharp.” Befana pulls away from the nonexistent curb— nonexistent because there’s no sidewalks in the slums of Gotham, at least, not many of them in good enough conditions to have curbs or whole piece of cement to walk on— and leaves Marinette all on her lonesome with a backpack, a key to a cheap apartment.

Marinette eyes the broken bottles leading to the entryway of her new building and the boarded up windows. Across the street, there’s two women smoking and conversing in hushed tones.

“Well,” Marinette mutters underneath her breath, shifting the straps of her only worldly possessions. “It’s definitely quieter than I expected.”

“Hey, new girl,” one of the women in the group calls out to her. “What’re you in for?”

“School. This is the cheapest apartment I could find.”

The woman exchanges a glance with one of her friends. 

“You’re better off finding a more expensive apartment elsewhere. This isn’t a place for someone like you.”

An excellent line for Marinette to begin to fish for information. “What do you mean by that?”

“This is disputed territory, now. If you can’t afford to stay somewhere else, you better stay with whoever just dropped you off.”

Marinette fidgets. Gina is long gone. Grandmother or not, even though Gina is undoubtedly loyal and will never hurt her, she believes that the best way to inspire growth is through adversity. Like now. The only information she got out of Befana was that she had to figure out a way to keep Gotham in line… whatever that meant. “She’s not going to come back. I guess I’ll just have to try my luck.”

“You really got nowhere else to go?”

“No. I’m from abroad.”

“That explains the accent,” says the one holding a beer bottle. “Then listen up, girlie. If you wanna survive, there’s three rules you’ve gotta learn. One. Don’t cross the Black Mask. Two. Don’t cross Red Hood. Three. Don’t sell to children.”

“Sell to children?”

“Well, I don’t suppose you’d be doing it anyways, given the whole,” she motions to Marinette’s body with a cigarette, “but Hood goes after anyone who sells drugs to kids real bad. Worse than if you fuck him over with anything the Black Mask’s doing, anyways.”

“Red Hood doesn’t sound like that bad of a guy, then.” Maybe she’ll look into a collaboration with him.

The woman with the beer bottle laughed. “Oh honey, you’re a saint. Don’t go fostering any dreams. You just stay away, hear?”

“I hear you,” Marinette says.

But they got something wrong. 

Marinette isn’t a saint, and never has been.

#

The walls of her crappy one bedroom apartment are thin enough to hear the baby upstairs scream at ungodly hours. If it’s not the baby waking her up, her neighbors in the apartment to her right are fucking very, very loudly. The apartment below her blasts rock music at all hours, the apartment to her right is likely selling drugs, given that she sees at least fifteen different people come in and out each day, and they always have a vaguely dazed look in their eye. She hasn’t heard anything from the apartment across, but she’s sure they’ll start up some noisy activity that Marinette doesn’t particularly want to hear soon enough.

She really got pampered in Paris, didn’t she?

Marinette lived a life of relative luxury whenever she stayed with her parents, instead of Gina. While in Beijing and Chongqing with Tom and Sabine, Maman did all of the heavy lifting for her. Well, Beijing had ended rather disastrously, and they had to make a quick getaway, but at least in Chongqing, Sabine managed to get rid of the prostitution ring. 

Back in Wenzhou, Catania, and Bologna, Gina took the reins, and it always turned out to be a sink or swim sort of situation. First off was her mother’s birth place, which had an astonishingly high crime rate and definitely explained why Sabine Cheng was so adept at self defense, and once they were there, of course they had to reform the fight rings. In Catania and Bologna, Gina practically threw her at two of the lowest rank mafia groups and told her to use them to bring order to the warring mafias. During those years, Gina didn’t make a front like Sabine and Tom did, purchasing a bakery and running a business to aid their more behind the scenes work. No, with Gina, it was either war of peace, and there was nowhere in between.

Which, of course, meant that Marinette rarely got to stay in nice rooms or pursue hobbies like sewing or drawing or anything, really.

Now that she is of age, Marinette could potentially try to wrest herself out of Befana’s influence, but that’s almost a laughable thought. Befana has eyes and ears everywhere. If she wants to escape the rat race of reformation, Marinette needs to gather power. 

The best thing she can do for now is try to figure out the situation in Gotham. If it’s not particularly bad, maybe she’ll have an easy time of it, and figure out how to disappear herself. She’s not totally opposed to the whole making-criminals-act-within-the-bounds-of-morality thing, but it’s gotten pretty tiring. Not repetitive, necessarily, but after experiencing an almost normal life in Paris, Marinette does want to have the privilege of not having to worry about her life every hour. Maybe she can even start up a little boutique. 

Marinette dumps most of the contents out of her bag, only leaving her wallet, a knife, and her trademark yo-yos. 

“Maybe I can go back to Paris, eventually.” She has become very fond of the city; the first place where she took fate into her own hands, where her mother and grandmother didn’t push her to reform the underworld. The first place where she chose to change the world around her. The first place where she saw things through from start to finish. The first place she formed her own team. 

The power of change is both incredibly addicting and terrifying. She sort of gets why Befana roams the world, looking for the next place she wants to shake things up in. But Marinette can’t get addicted. This is going to be her last city, then she’s going to return to Paris and settle down. She’ll leave city beautification to the so-called vigilantes that almost every city has acquired, save Paris.

Oh wait, she supposes that Ladybug and Chat Noir were-- and Chat still is-- a type of vigilante back home. But as it stands now, it will be more correct to refer to them as heads of the Parisian underworld; they definitely don’t work on the side of the law, but she and Chat made sure that drug deals were more… regulated. That deaths and the induction of children into such a dark world were curbed. That if people really wanted to get out, they could.

All of that doesn’t matter. Not in the eyes of the law at least. Parisian citizens love the duo for helping keep crimes off the streets and for banning the particularly strong strain of drug that Gabriel called AKUMA off the market, but the Parisian police? She and Chat both have targets on their head. Their whole team does.

She eyes the apartment across from her. There’s blood on the door handle. It’s a good thing that Sabine and Tom never tried to instill those odd customs of ‘house warming’ and ‘getting to know her neighbors’ that most other people teach their children. In good neighborhoods, it’s important to have a cordial relationship with whoever’s living next door. In neighborhoods like these? It’s even more important.

But rule number one of pissing people off? 

Coming over uninvited.

Marinette doesn’t bother locking the door behind her. 

#

“New to the neighborhood?”

Apparently, it really is bizarre for her to have moved into this apartment complex. She’s come across a grand total of five people during her week here, and every single one of them stopped whatever they were doing in order to take a closer look. 

Marinette knows that this is a disputed area. She looked into the two women’s words the day she arrived. But, for a disputed area, everything is remarkably quiet. No fights, nobody on the streets, most people keep indoors, unless they’re out for a smoke, to throw out the trash, or are going to or coming back from various activities outside of the block.

What’s even more odd is that all of her neighbors seem to know each other intimately. Or at least, intimately enough to know that she doesn’t belong there.

“Yeah,” Marinette says, ready to leave this conversation behind. She doesn’t bother getting information out of the people who are in her apartment complex or on this block. To be more accurate, she tried with one of the first people she came across, but it was apparent that someone encouraged them to be tight lipped with information. 

Given the current information she has, she thinks it’s more likely that the one who gave that order is Red Hood, rather than Black Mask.

“Been here a week.” The guy lights his joint and breathes out. “Not so new anymore.”

Over the years, she’s gotten used to the smell of marijuana, though she can’t say she likes the scent. She’ll take cigarettes over weed any day.

“You could say that.”

“Don’t suppose anybody’s laid out the rules for you yet, have they?”

Maybe this will make things easier for her. Mostly, she’s just settled into her apartment over the past seven days. There's no need for her to immediately get to work, and she does enjoy comfort. Taking down criminals is hard work. She wants to come back to an apartment that doesn’t look awful and lets her relax. So what if she spent most of her money on an expensive mattress and a coffee machine? She’s an adult now. Nobody can tell her what to do. (Except for Befana.) “No, not really.”

“Tina and Audrey give you a crash course?”

“Mostly just warned me not to sell to children.”

The man barks, smoke spitting into the stale air. “Some of the best advice around. Let me tell you, Black Mask might have more manpower, but Red Hood has rage. Cross Black Mask by gypping him, he’ll send a lackey after you. Fuck with children, Red Hood himself will come for you.”

He pauses, evaluating her appearance. 

“Though you look like a child yourself. Mighty pretty too. lucky girl. Hood will protect you if you stay around these parts, but if you go south on the diagonal, you’ll be in bad territory. Plenty of prostitution rings around there.”

“Thought this was disputed territory.”

“Not really. Anywhere Hood has claimed is said to be disputed because Mask hates his guts and keeps sending goons to these areas. But anyone who’s dealing under Mask aint gonna take the risk of their lives just to branch out to these spots.”

“Sounds like Red Hood is pretty well liked around these parts, then.”

Perhaps she’ll look into working with him. From what she’s heard of the guy and what she’s found trawling the dark web, his morals seem to align with her own. A little bit more temperamental than she’d like, a little too quick to kill, rather than apprehend, but Gotham prisons seem to have jailbreaks every other week, so she can understand why it may be easier just to make every encounter a one and done.

“Liked?” Blunt finished, he flicks the stub into the dirt, crushing the embers under foot. He wipes his mouth with the scarf around his neck. “Like isn't the question in Gotham, Frenchie.”

Marinette inwardly cringes. She’s tried to minimize her accent because it makes natives distrust her, or think they can take her for a loop. Most people she’s come across accept her as one of their own, but apparently she hasn’t been doing as well as she thought she was. Maybe this is why people seemed a little more reluctant with any information.

“When it comes down to it, liking means nothing. It’s who you trust to watch your back.” He fumbles in his pockets, pulling out another blunt. Marinette notices that his fingers are fairly heavily bandaged and that the man is shaking slightly. Medicinal marijuana, maybe. “Wouldn’t trust that Mask farther than I can throw him. And he used to be a wrestler, so he’s a fat bastard. At least you can trust Hood not to cross you as long as you don’t cross him first.”

Lighting the tip, his eyes sharpen. “You seem like the trustworthy sort. Active, too. I’ll leave you with one more piece of advice. If you ever run into Hood? Don’t mention two things: the Joker, and Batman.”

“I doubt I’ll ever run into him,” Marinette lies. 

The man laughs. “I’m a Gotham native, Frenchie. I can tell what kind of person you are. You’ll be meeting him soon, I know. Hood needs someone to watch his back, and you? You need someone to keep your head above water.”

He flicks the ash off the blunt and turns his back on her, and Marinette can’t tell whether he’s showing her respect or belittling her.

#

 Two weeks into her stay in Gotham and Marinette has finally collected enough information about her surroundings to feel confident about going out as Ladybug.

Guns are infinitely more available here in America than they were back in France, which means she needed more than one costume, and an upgrade to her current one. High quality kevlar is good and all, but it’s heavy, and not everyone in Gotham is high off their minds using AKUMA. Replacing kevlar with polythene, now that it’s available to her, is only a natural decision. She has to be more careful here in Gotham. Not only does she have no support network, she’s also highly inexperienced with the terrain. She’s at a disadvantage here.

With a combo polythene and kevlar bodysuit, a crop top with her signature ladybug embroidery on the backside, an all black domino mask, and a utility belt with two yo-yos , knife, and emergency medical supplies, she’s as ready as she ever will be to witness the nightlife first hand.

And just like in Paris, Wenzhou, Beijing, Chongqing, Catania and Bologna, she doesn’t have to go far to find the trouble.

Befana has told her multiple times that Marinette is like a lucky charm for problems. Judging by the amount of time she’s gotten herself into sticky situations unintentionally, she’s inclined to agree, though she’d call herself more of an unlucky charm.

She doesn’t bother speaking, instead hurling one yo-yo at the guy who’s trying to tie up a girl half her age and the other yo-yo at the wheels of his car, to make sure he can’t make a quick getaway.

Ladybug may not use guns, but she never said that her weaponry wasn’t tricked out; yo-yo knocks the guy up the head, sending him down for the count, and yo-yo two slashes through the rubber tire. The man waiting in the car rolls down the window to shoot. Ladybug rolls her eyes. Dumb and dumber. She’s not sure whether he’s trying to preserve his windows or doesn’t realize that rolling down his window leaves him open for her own attacks.

Reeling back in yo-yo one. She hurtles it through the window, presses a button, then ducks. The head of the yo-yo detached and shocks the driver.

“Need help getting home?” Ladybug asks the girl who’s currently edging away from her. 

“Who are you? Why did you help me?”

Ladybug shrugs. She’s never been particularly good at explaining herself; Chat took care of most of the conversions within Hawkmoths retinue. She’s good at making the occasionally public statement and making sure people she’s close to don’t stray, but strangers? Most people back in Paris just trusted her blindly, and she never had to think about how to present her reasoning.

She takes two sets of zip ties out of her pack, then restrains her first victim. After she slaps a patch on the tire-- if she is going to take this girl home, she certainly doesn’t want to walk her back in this neighborhood, and judging by the size of the van, there are probably a few people in the back she’ll need to free as well. Ladybug moves on to tie up the guy in the car, back towards the girl. “If you don’t want my help, that’s fine too.”

As soon as she turns, there’s a sharp intake of breath. “You’re with Hood, then.”

Not yet. “M not, actually. Never met the guy. What makes you say that?”

A bout of nervous, high pitched laughter. “The red, maybe. Or, I don’t know, the fact that he’s here and not knocking you out?”

Ladybug whirls, trying to see where the infamous vigilante is. True to the girls word, he is just a little ways down the alleyway they’re currently in, looking, for all intents and purposes, not about to kill her. How pleasant. Better than she was expecting; his temper precedes him, and she was expecting to have to fight with the guy before even dreaming about having a civil discussion with him.

He doesn’t have his hands on his guns, which she takes as a good sign. Taking a good look at him she’s almost surprised that he’s calming himself the Red Hood instead of the Red Helmet, but she supposes the former sounds better.

“Let me finish tying that one up,” Ladybug says.

Red Hood grunts in response.

“So you are working together,” the girl concludes.

Ladybug shrugs again, tapping another button to reattach the head of her yo-yo and grabbing the keys and phone from the driver’s pocket. She pops the back of the van. There are three girls tied up in the back. 

Her knife makes quick work of the bonds that restrain them. The girls take the duct tape off their mouths themselves; she feels a deep disgust of the men that are currently knocked unconscious. Not only are they traffickers, but they’re new traffickers. Inexperienced. Duct tape isn’t used most times because it damages the goods. Either that, or they’re organ dealers, because people don’t need the bodies to look pretty when they just want the innards. Judging by the fact that all of the people in the back are girls, she’ll put money on the first one.

“You going to let me drive these girls back before we have our talk?”

“Fine,” Red Hood bites out, moving to sit shotgun. “You move one finger out of line, and I’ll shoot.”

Ladybug tosses the unconscious body out of the driver’s seat.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

#lowkey wanna write the precursor to this where lb and cn take down hm but im lazy #jasonette july #jasonette #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #villain au #miraculous ladybug #dcu #bamf marinette #original content #maribat #someone save me im drowning in aus #don't know why writing anything after ch 1 seems so hard #i need someone to keep me on track

[fanficparker]

A GAME OF DIAMONDS AND HEARTS // H.O.

>> CHAPTER SIX

“They agreed with each other violently and disagreed with each other pleasurably.” - A Suitable Boy, Seth

(Frenemies to Lovers! Mob AU! ) Harrison Osterfield x Fem!OC

Word count: 2.13k words

Warning: Swearing, guns, knives.

Synopsis: After the sudden death of his uncle and the eccentric multi-millionaire mafia king Lufian Clarke, Harrison Osterfield’s almost decent life is mostly devastated especially when half of what should be rightfully his fortune is transferred to their immediate rival for reasons he doesn’t know. What’s remaining is him trying to figure out how to deal with this collaboration of two rival corporations that don’t belong together and work on the side of the woman he never knew would ever be referred to as his partner in crime while they are dragged into a mess bigger than what they were trained to handle.

<< FIVE [ MASTERLIST ] SEVEN >>

"Who let you enter my private study?"

Harrison asked, stopping with one step inside his office, fixing the watch on his wrist. His eyes focused on the uninvited guest.

"My ability to walk." A smirk played over Sandhya's lips as she flipped a page in the file she was holding, twirling the ball pen between her fingers. The base of the pen rested below her lip as she lifted her eyelid to catch a glimpse of Harrison's irritable face. And damn he indeed was irritated.

"No one comes here without my permission." He hissed, striding into the centre of the room, staring at her furtively until his gaze landed on the other parts of his office. His office was a mess. Not anywhere near how he left it. His file cabinet was open and at least twenty files were lying on the sofa and a few over his desk. There were two on Sandhya's lap as she sat with her legs crossed over each other, leaning back leisurely in one of the chairs, skimming through the papers. An empty plate and a coffee mug were also sitting on his desk. The mug wasn't even placed over a coaster. He could even see some bread crumbs scattered on the wood.

He barely managed to not lash out at her, clenching his fists. Drawing in a shallow breath, he opened his mouth in an attempt to reason with her but she was the first one to speak.

"Can you log into the system? I need to look up something." She pointed the tip of the pen at the computer placed on his desk. Her voice was far from that of requesting even if she framed it as a question.

Harrison's brows pinched, "Are you serious?!" His voice sounded so pitchy, almost resembling a train wreck about to happen.

"Yes."

That's all? His stomach rumbled with anger. She didn't even look up at him. That bland yes twisted like a snake in his gut. He was past taking orders, especially from her. So, he walked up to her, swallowing his building rage and snatched the file she was holding.

"Hey!" She squealed, trying to take it back as he pushed it over his head and out of her reach.

She rose from the chair, about to grab it when he dropped the file on the floor behind his back, scattering the papers.

"Why would you--"

"Because it's my office and those are my files! And fucking," he seethed, trying to keep his voice casual, lifting the mug from the table, "We don't eat in the study, let alone dump the scraps on the desk. Also, you didn't even use a coaster!" He groaned upon noticing the ring the liquid left on the wood before he settled the mug again on the table, only this time there was a coaster beneath it.

Her eyebrows pulled together, disbelief roaring through her head, "You are worried about the coaster--"

"The white oak---"

"The uncle was murdered in this house and the nephew is more interested in coffee stains." She squinted her eyes, shaking her head.

Harrison bit back a groan. Her words had managed to flip his stomach. He sighed keeping his conduct civil.

"As much as I am curious about Clarke's mysterious death," he spoke as calmly as he could, meeting her eyes, "We aren't even sure if he was murdered in the first place."

"You gotta be kidding me!"

"I am not kidding you!" He bit back, "And anyway, get out of here. I don't like outsiders touching my stuff," he shifted his gaze to the side, hands folded across his chest.

She scoffed, almost scornfully. "Says the one who had no problem sleeping together."

Harrison's neck snapped at the words, his temper reaching new heights. Gritting his teeth, he took a step forward, looking down at her face. "If I had known it was you, I would have never--"

"Exactly!" She snapped, "You didn't know who you were sleeping with, how do I ensure you know about the people working here?"

"That's bullshit."

Sandhya exhaled, failing to reason with him. It was harder than she had expected. So, she tried the gentler way, trying to make her words sound closer to a request, "I need you to give me access to your computer." For no avail--

"What made you think I would do that? You have already seen enough." His hands dropped from his chest and she fought back the urge to roll her eyes.

The last attempt at asking and being gentle, "Look Harrison," her voice was sweeter as if she had accepted her defeat, moving to the last resort, "You have already ruined my Plan A and now I need to know about certain things to come up with a Plan B."

"You really think you're some kind of mastermind in planning? Don't you?"

"Harrison, that was my job back then--"

"Oh. I thought your job was to seduce strangers and sleep with them." He didn't hesitate but when the words finally parted his lips, he noticed the light in her eyes dimming for a brief second, the little grin on her lips fading. His heart thumped in his throat. Perhaps, he went too far.

But what he said wasn't a lie. Perhaps, it was okay. He didn't care anyway, yet his eyes moved to her neck, somewhere-anywhere, away from her face.

Those scars on her throat fell into his line of sight. Fine red lines, shallow, peeking off from her pink hoodie. He hadn't paid much attention before but she looked cute in the outfit, a way he had never expected her to look. Her expression defied the notion though, driving his brain back to the thick air that engulfed them.

Her hand came to cover her throat, gently rubbing across the marks. He swallowed. His eyes flickered back to hers and she averted her gaze to the side. Probably, that was the closest he would ever get at marking her.

He was waiting for a reply, a sharp hit back. Instead, the air between them seemed to hum quietly. Harrison had hit the mark so blatantly, Sandhya didn't even bother refuting it. And that somehow bothered him.

She tore her gaze from him, turning on her heel. He felt the urgent need to cut the silence.

"I don't support the idea of a murderer walking among us." He spoke slowly.

He heard her sigh heavily.

"Well enough," she made up her mind, walking away from him and picking up the file, he had previously dropped, "You live in your protected shell, dreaming about sunshine and rainbows while someone stabs you in your sleep," her voice was still without heat or anger, "But you know what..."

She turned to face him again, eyes hardening, "I don't want to die or lose what I have earned so, I'm going to do something about it."

"Good luck." He muttered, eyes never leaving her figure as she stormed off the room.

***

The day was heavy on Sandhya. Checking up all the records of the people Clarke had ever worked with was more time consuming than she had thought, especially considering how her initial plan of dividing the work with Harrison went amiss.

She had navigated through whatever documents he had in his room, along with Clarke's and had taken the help of Holly to get access to their server. It would have been nicer to have her in person than on a phone but she was indeed helpful, although, Sandhya hadn't found anything game-changing. There was at least a compact list of people she had her suspicions on, though.

The library was bigger than what it appeared from afar. Probably they could shoot a Jurassic Park movie in here. Or Night at the Museum or library or whatever. She had laughed at the thought. She had also walked through all three tiers of the magnificent space, analyzing the delicately carved rosewood shelves carrying books older than time. They even had some of the original manuscripts of the classics. Unbelievable.

But now she was tired. It was over six hours, she was sitting there, skimming through all the information she could get her hands on. The mob business was full of mischief. Interacting with people you should definitely keep a six feet distance from was customary .

She sighed, shutting the library computer and keeping the files aside. Untying her hair and pressing her fingers against the pulsing side of her head, she tried to relax. A gasp left her lips. She bet she saw a shadow move outside.

Her heart stopped for a moment when the lights flickered. There was definitely someone who shouldn't be here.

Slowly, carefully, she rose from her seat, ducking down the table. Then she heard it. Footsteps. She scrambled forward, keeping low, hiding behind a pillar, drawing the knife from her clothes. She waited and waited, breathing through her nose. But no one came for her. And then it hit her.

They could be here for Harrison.

She risked a peek, looking outside the library. There was still no one in sight. The alleyway seemed dark, dead; enough to accelerate her pulse. She climbed down the stairs, one foot at a time, letting her eyes wander around the hall. Stopping and hiding behind an intersected wall, she saw it: A guy in all black, twisting the knob to Harrison's room, the haft helpless in the vice of his grip. He entered inside.

Sandhya swallowed. Her throat felt dry. She only had a knife on herself right now. Protecting Harrison at all costs was a requisite. Even when he was an insufferable jerk.

He was a team.

And she hated teamwork.

She also hated jerks.

Harrison turned in his sleep, lying over the left side of his body, hugging the silk sheets that covered him. His room was pitch black, with curtains all drawn shut. He preferred sleeping in the dark and maybe that was the reason why the silver light shining over his thin eyelids discomforted him. He wasn't a heavy sleeper and little sounds managed to bother him.

He had somehow grown accustomed to the noise his clock made. His mind erratically jumped between disconnected, unwanted thoughts whenever he sensed other sounds in his proximity. Sounds that didn't match the rhythm of his clock.

Noises of shallow breathing.

Noises of out of tune footfalls.

Out of tune...

His eyes flew open, wide, fixed on the dagger that stood three feet above his chest, reflecting the minimal amount of light his window shades failed to conceal.

He tried to kick off his sheets but the dagger lunged forward swiftly like a wild animal. He squirmed, unable to move, waiting for the impact. Only that he never felt the object pierce his body. The guy groaned, his steps faltering backwards.

Harrison unspooled himself from the sheets, quickly switching on the lamp. Leaping from the bed, hands first, he landed on his toes, squatting.

Sandhya's arms were crossed around the guy's neck from the back. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she tried to push him back.

"Don't just stand there!" She cried, struggling to hold the big guy as she pulled him backwards, pressing her forearms against his throat.

Harrison shook his head, jumping forward. His heart pounded in his chest as he hit the man over his shoulder. The guy with his face blocked out with a black woollen mask, wailed, stumbling on his feet. He slammed Sandhya's back against the window, dropping both his weapon and the whimpering girl on the floor.

Harrison tried to catch him but he ran, pushing him back, storming off the door. His eyes roamed at the door and then at Sandhya. He sighed, giving out his hand. Grabbing it, she pulled herself on her feet.

"Don't say it." He mumbled, jutting his tongue out of his compressed lips.

"Told you so." She said anyway, voice so low that only he could hear, flashing him a small grin, more of a grimace, actually. His own mouth twisted but then his eye caught the sight of his window, the shades drawn away because of the rustling. His slight frown turned into a scowl.

"Watch out--" He grabbed Sandhya by her waist, pulling her down with him, capturing her body beneath his as a gunshot blasted the window of his room, crashing, shattering the glass over them.

A moment passed in silence as they tried catching up their breath.

"Are we even?" He mouthed, manoeuvring his eye line back up to her face. She was horrified, her chest rising and falling.

"We'll see..."

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