#‘yeah he is. and you get that a large part of it is that he’s mad at himself right? that he hates himself. right?’

[clockwayswrites]

A Bird's Wings - Part 30

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

Danny’s first thought when he woke up in the morning was how rested he was.

It was almost shocking.

He’d been so exhausted for for the past few weeks that to feel rested was a relief that almost made him cry.

Danny’s second thought was about his wings, which he still seemed to have. That was a pretty quick revelation caused by the fact that he was asleep on his stomach. The wings pulled at the sheets as he stretched lazily. At least they hurt less than yesterday at least. He was careful as he sat up, a cumbersome affair with the wings. It basically resulted in Danny getting his legs off the side of the large bed and simply standing up backwards, but at least it did result in him standing.

Grateful for Alfred’s thoroughness, Danny brushed his teeth before taking an awkward shower. He kept to the shower wand only and tried to keep as much water off his wings as possible. Despite the care, he still felt (and looked) like a rain ruffled bird after he had dressed in the modified sweater and a pair of his normal pants. He did what he could to at least tame his hair, swallowed his morning medication, and left the sanctuary of his borrowed room.

“Master Danny, impeccable timing,” Alfred said when Danny came across him in what Danny thought was the foyer. “Breakfast will be served in half an hour in the kitchen. Would you like some coffee or tea to start your day?”

“Coffee would be great, if it’s not any trouble,” Danny said with a bashful smile. He still wasn’t quite sure how to handle Alfred’s uncanny ability to show up and offer his service.

“A standard request of coffee is hardly trouble,” Alfred said in such a way that Danny felt bad for trying to be polite.

He didn’t think that his Midwest manners were going to get him very far in this house. Manor.

Still trying to puzzle out how his life got him into things like this, Danny followed Alfred to the kitchen. Bruce was already there, looking still half a sleep as he sipped on his own mug of coffee. For the moment, the table was children free.

“Cream or sugar?” Alfred ask as he headed towards the counter.

“Cream please,” Danny said. He turned to Bruce and gave a little smile. “Morning, Bruce.”

“Good morning, Danny,” Bruce said, his voice a low, sleepy rumble. (Danny did his best to fight the blush that the tone caused.) “Would you like some help drying off your wings?”

So much for not blushing. “Ah, yeah. That would be really nice. I tried to do what I could, but…”

Bruce chuckled softly. “Completely understandable. It’s a very awkward angle to try and manage.” He set down his mug and stood. “Fortunately for you, Damian is quite the animal buff and I was sent some very extensive articles on caring for wings.”

“Oh gods,” Danny said. The words were muffled by the way he buried his burning face into his hands.

“Damian simply wants the best for you,” Bruce pointed out.

“Sure, but still,” Danny said. He rubbed at his face as he let himself lean his head back and stare up at the ceiling for a moment, “I’m not a pet.”

Danny saw Bruce come over out the corner of his eye, towel in hand, and rolled his head a little to glance at him. He thought it was progress that he didn’t flinch when Bruce reached out, clearly telegraphing his motion, to run a hand over Danny’s wing.

“No one thinks that you’re a pet, Danny,” Bruce said with so much sincerity in his eyes that Danny had to look away. “Knowing how to take care of your wings is the same as making sure that Damian has easy access to vegetarian meals or that the computers at the manor have a dyslexic friendly font installed for Dick or that Barbara can easily get around in her wheelchair. Your wings, even if only sometimes, are part of you. And for better or worse, my family and I seem rather intent to see you well.”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck as he glanced back at Bruce. “Part of it may be that I’m not exactly used to that sort of attention. I mean, Lucius tries to make me take care of myself, as well as some coworkers, but in Gotham that sort of feels more like new rogue prevention,” Danny joked.

Luckily Bruce chuckled at that. “I am sorry that we’re so overwhelming.”

“No, don’t be. It’s… excuse the bird analogy, but it’s just a very full nest, isn’t it? It feels cozy. It’s just something different to try and wrap my head around,” Danny explained. “And I won’t pretend that I don’t still have issues, as much as it’s something that I’ve worked really hard on personally and in therapy, dying at fourteen leaves a person with some issues.”

Not to mention being a super hero, staying half dead, dying a second time, and all of the other things that went on during his high school years.

“Yes, I would imagine so,” Bruce said after a pause. His voice was soft and sad.

“Bruce—”

“Sorry,” Bruce said. “When Jason was fifteen, we thought he had died. He ended up out of reach and with extensive brain trauma and memory loss. I know how much it effected him. I’m sorry you had to go through something at that age also.”

Danny squeezed one of Bruce’s hands where it was clasped tightly around a towel. “He’s here now. He’s alive and he seems happy. He has a boyfriend and everything. I’m not saying it doesn’t still pull at him, but it hasn’t dragged him to the bottom. At least not anymore.”

Bruce smile was a somber, soft thing. “Thank you. And you’re here too.”

Danny blinked at that. Bruce wasn’t wrong. He didn’t know almost any of the story, but he wasn’t wrong. Wings and all, Danny was still alive. He smiled softly back. “Yeah, I am.”

[steddieprompts]

part 2 of this thing

The rest of the night the two sat on the couch, ate icecream and watched shitty comedy movies. Steve finally got Eddie to watch Major League and Eddie had to admit it was his favorite sports movie so far.

Eddie fell asleep on the couch as usual and Steve covered him with a blanket before heading to his room for the night.

They didn't talk about the situation with Tommy after that night. In all honestly Steve was happy to see the back of it as well as Tommy himself. Seeing him again was such a violent flashback to the person he was before... he didn't like thinking about it. He hoped Tommy loved New York so much he never stepped foot in Indiana again.

Of course Steve could never be that lucky.

It was a Monday night and the apartment was sweltering.

"I thought Daryl said he fixed the AC?" Steve said, fiddling with the knobs on the unit.

"Daryl says alot of things" Eddie's voice echoed from where his head was stuck in the freezer.

"Let's just go to the movies. At least their AC works," Steve grumbled.

Eddie pulled his head out of the freezer. "I'm in." He agreed and grabbed his wallet off the counter as he followed Steve out of the apartment... before shoving the handful of icecubes he snuck out of the freezer down the back or Steve's tucked in polo. His screech was so loud old lady Laski stuck her head out of her apartment to yell at them.

"Sorry, Muriel!" Eddie said through his cackling before they shoved their way out of the building.

Inside the theater the air was crisp and cool.

"Genius, Stevie," Eddie said, flipping his hair over the back of the seat and sliding down until his ass was almost off the seat. "I gotta pee," he announced and immediately stood back up. Jesus Christ he heard Steve mutter. "You want popcorn?"

"Nah. I'm good." Steve hummed as he closed his eyes.

After the bathroom, Eddie went to the concession stand and got himself a popcorn (large, because he knew Steve would steal some) and Steve a Sprite with extra ice.

When he turned away from the counter he nearly dropped it though. Across the room, just coming in the door, was Hagan.

Why was he still here? Shouldn't he be back in New York by now?

Eddie decided to ignore him... and the other guy he was with, some jock type Eddie faintly recognized from high school. He headed back towards the theater doors, but he wasn't as inconspicuous as he hoped.

Before he could get into the theater, Tommy sidled in front of the door.

"Well look who it is," Tommy smirked at him. "Out without your little body guard?"

"Body guard? Who, Steve?"

"I know he was lying to protect you. I can't figure out why." Tommy said, taking a threatening step toward Eddie.

He had about enough of this.

Eddie mirrored Tommy, taking a step forward and getting obnoxiously close to his face.

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," Eddie said his name like he felt so so bad for him, "Steve, the love of my life, is right in there." He tilted his head towards the door, "And believe me, he wasn't protecting me the other night, he was protecting you."

Eddie stared him down for a second before suddenly sticking out his tongue and making a guttural hiss. Tommy startled and jerked back into his jock friend. "Enjoy your film... and try not to think about what's in the dark." Eddie said sweetly before slipping into the theater, but not without hearing Tommy mutter "Freak" as the door closed.

Eddie hustled back to their seats, nearly spilling half the popcorn on the way.

"Steve!" He whisper yelled as he came down the row. He didn't really need to whisper, though, as the only other people in the theater were a couple teenagers in the back. "Steve!" He said again as he plopped down in his seat.

"What? Is that for me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got you a Sprite, Tommy is here." Eddie said all in one breath. Steve nearly choked on the sip he took. "And I might have talked to him."

"Eddie..."

"And I might have lead him to believe that I cursed him or something. Hissed in his face."

"Wha... why?"

"He called you my body guard. Oh, and you're the love of my life now."

"Body gu... wait. awww you love me??" Steve said, sickly sweet and batting his eyelashes.

"Madly, darling," Eddie replied in his worst trans-atlantic accent. Steve chuckled.

"He seriously said I was your body guard?"

"Yeah he thinks we're pretending."

"Well fuck him."

"That's what I say," Eddie grumbled. He didn't like being called a liar even when he was one.

At the back of the theater the door opened and Steve peaked behind him through the seats and low and behold... Tommy Hagan.

"It's him," Steve grumbled.

"Huh?" Eddie asked, distracted by the movie previews.

"Tommy." He turned to Eddie. "You haven't suddenly developed boundaries in the last five minutes have you?"

"No, why?"

Steve surged forward, pressing his lips to Eddie's and cupping his jaw. Eddie made a surprised noise before pressing back, his hand finding Steve's waist, fisting his shirt.

After a few seconds Steve pulled back, meaning to look over at Tommy to cement the deal, but he got... distracted, watching Eddie's eyes flutter open, seeing how they danced over Steve's face as he processed.

"I see what the big deal is now," He finally said. Steve let out a soft chuckle, still enraptured by Eddie... and wasn't that a thought.

Eddie looked over Steve's shoulder, picking Tommy out in the dark, the light of the screen highlighting him. Slowly Eddie wiggled his fingers at him in a little wave.

Steve finally looked back at him, just in time for Tommy to storm out of the theater, his new cronie following behind.

"Wow," Eddie mused, "That worked surprisingly well." Eddie looked back at Steve, "You think he's jealous?"

"Dude!" Steve whined before sliding down in his seat.

"Think Tommy wants a little King action?"

"If you don't stop, I'm leaving you here and you can walk home."

Eddie cackled, settling down as the movie started.

But Steve couldn't concentrate. Kissing Eddie was... nice. To be fair, Steve hadn't been with anyone in a while but... that wasn't entirely the reason. He felt something he hadn't felt in a while. As cliche as it sounded... he felt a spark.

Maybe Eddie had felt it too.

The movie went by too fast but when they stepped back outside the sun had set and the heat had dissipated. Tommy was no where to be found.

As they drove home, Eddie was strangely reserved. They talked about the movie, about going to work in the morning, but the conversation didn't take any wild turns like they usually did. Steve didn't even have to scold Eddie for sitting sideways in the seat.

When they got back into the apartment Eddie didn't flop down on the couch or root around in the fridge, just said he was gonna head to bed before going into his room. Steve looked at the clock. It was only 8:30.

He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't. He brushed his teeth, changed his clothes, sat down and turned on the TV, but he couldn't ignore how strange it was. And it wasn't hard to guess why.

He shook out his shoulders before he knocked on Eddie's door.

"Yeah?" Eddie called from inside, Steve could here him quietly picking at his guitar.

"Can we talk? Please?"

The guitar stopped and Eddie opened the door, already in the ratty black Sabath shirt he usually slept in.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry... but I'm not."

"About what?"

"Kissing you like that. I should have... given you more warning."

"It's alright, Steve, I'm not mad."

"Maybe not, but something is wrong."

"It's fine, Steve, don't worry about it."

"No," Steve's hand shot out as Eddie tried to close his door. "I'm sorry, Eddie. I just... Please just talk to me, okay?" His hand dropped from the door, but caught Eddie's fingers on the way. He tangled them together before asking softly, "please?"

Eddie looked at their hands before saying "What is this?" He looked up at Steve taking a steadying breath, but it barely got rid of the tightness, the wobble. "What...?"

"Eddie, I know how this started but I can help but feel maybe... I dont know. I think there's something. Maybe we've been ignoring it."

"Are you fucking with me, Steve? Because I can't..." Eddie hated how his throat was closing up with fear, with hope.

"I'm not, I promise you," Steve stepped forward, tightening his grip on Eddie's hand, "I've never felt so at home with someone, so happy, and kissing you... Eddie. I can't let this go unless you tell me to."

Eddie swallowed, swallowed again, until he got enough courage to lean forward, softly, gently, and pressed his lips to Steve's for the second time that night.

The kiss was soft and gentle until he felt Steve smile against his lips and he couldn't hold back. He felt himself laugh as he pressed forward, Steve pulling him back until they hit the wall across the hall, laughing when it took Steve by surprise. They broke apart, Steve peppering kisses up Eddie's cheek to his temple.

"You uh," Steve said through a smile, "You want to go out sometime?"

Eddie threw his head back as his happiness and relief burst out of him in a laugh. "Yeah, sweetheart," Eddie smiled at him. "Let's go out."

[rafescorpsebride]

Tattooed felon

Felon!rafe Cameron x fem reader

Rafe gets a chance with a girl he’s had his eye on ever since he got out of prison and worked at a tattoo shop.

CW: Oral, fem recieving, unprotected sex, filth and not edited cuz I’m tired.

“Yo, your girl is walking home.” Barry caught Rafe’s attention as he cleaned up his area. The tattoo shop was buzzing but Rafe immediately moved to the window.

He saw you, a troubled young woman who was frequently going to a rehab program. One he knew all too well. Rafe knew the six year age difference wasn’t large by any means but he did wonder if you would be comfortable with it.

“Like hell she is.” He grumbled and smoothed down his shirt. Rafe moved outside, breathing in the fresh air as he walked after you.

He caught up easily and you spun around. Eyes wide and you took a defensive stance.

“Hey, don’t worry. I work at the studio. I saw you a week ago when you came in for the rose tattoo.” You seemed to calm down a little but Rafe didn’t want to press his luck.

“I’ve seen you around ever since. And I don’t want you to walk home alone.” Rafe cut to the chase but frowned when you chuckled humorously.

“I’m not walking home. I sleep and live in my car.”

Rafe’s chest hurt at the confession and he instinctively set a hand on your shoulder. Leaning down, he breathed in your sweet perfume. “I get it, baby. More than anybody. Let me give you a warm bed tonight. I promise it’ll be okay.”

You were stiff as you considered his offer and Rafe sweetened the deal.

“You also look like you need a hot meal. Can’t let a pretty little thing like you starve can I?”

-

Rafe was thankful he kept his apartment clean after years in prison. He watched as you took small bites out of the bowl of food he made. You were carefully chewing, as if preparing for any sudden change signaling danger. He gave you a smile as he pulled out a cigarette and he saw you roll your eyes.

“What’s with the eye roll, baby?” He brought it to his lips and you set your fork down.

“Those things are cancer.”

“Good. Sooner the better.” He winked when you scowled.

You eyed his prison tattoo. “How much time did you serve?”

Rafe blew the smoke in a puff. “Ten years. Day I turned twenty one I got arrested.” You nodded and continued eating in silence. “Why, pretty little bunny? Thought of me being in there scare you?”

“No. It just made me curious as to why you like me.”

Rafe liked your confidence and leaned forward. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I like you? Baby doll, I saw you and I immediately knew I had to have you. No girl of mine is ever gonna sleep in a car.” You looked down and Rafe continued. “You stay here and go to the program. I’ll take care of you, baby.”

“But you don’t even-“ Rafe shook his head, eyeing your lips and he gently tugged you closer by the legs of the chair.

“I know what I need to know and you can tell me the rest. Being in prison made me able to read people, princess. You’re a good girl but I’d love to see how I could turn you into my own little whore.”

You swallowed but you curled your finger into his necklace, hanging over his t shirt and pulled him towards you. Extending your tongue out with your mouth parted, Rafe chuckled darkly and blew smoke inside your lips.

“Goddamn, baby. You’re so sexy. But I gotta sample that pretty pussy I’m sure you’re hiding.” You squealed when he lifted you up, moving to the bedroom and he tossed you on your back.

Rafe discarded his shirt, showing his muscular torso and array of tattoos. Ranging from patch work to beautiful pieces. He crawled over, pulling down your pants and groaning at the sight of your covered pussy.

He sank to his knees, pressing his nose against your thigh and inhaled. “Fuck, you smell so good. Gonna have to keep those as a trophy. But I gotta lick it from the source.” Rafe moved his face to your cunt and licked the outside of your panties. Teasing you as he went to the sides as you desperately tried to put him where you needed him.

“Please, please, Rafe, I need it.” The sound of you begging sent him over the edge and he pushed your panties to the side. He sucked in your clit, swollen and moaned at the sweet flavor of your wetness.

He felt your thighs squeeze his head and he pressed his hand against your stomach. Moving you flatter as he lapped at the center with his tongue, swirling it and thrusting it into your entrance. He moved it and cupped your knees, pushing them to your chest so he could get a deeper angle.

You shuddered and groaned. Hands on his head, pulling his hair and Rafe lost control. He pulled your clit back in his mouth, causing the tension in your stomach to snap and you cried out. He savored every drop of cum you gave him as he spread you impossibly further.

Your thighs trembled as you attempted to move. Rafe growled and smacked your ass.

“Your legs shaking isn’t my fuckin problem, pretty girl. I’m enjoying my meal.” Rafe caused you to cream on his mouth two more times until he heard you literally in tears. He kissed his way up your body, loving the way you arched into him as he focused on your neck.

“Better clean up your mess,” Rafe rasped and kissed your lips with urgency. You sighed into his mouth and tasted yourself on his tongue. Rafe set your hand on his bulge and nipped your lower lip. “Got me hard like that, baby. I gotta feel you squeezing my cock.”

With that, Rafe kicked off his pants the rest of the way and took hold of his dick. He slapped it against your clit a few times, smearing the cum with his tip and became addicted to the sound you let out. He sank deep into you, gasping at your pussy tightening around him as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders.

“Fuck, needed this perfect pussy. Needed to rail you like the cum slut you are. Mmm, yeah.” He breathed as you whimpered. Rafe lifted one of your legs higher, thrusting deeper and you mewled. Pathetic erotic sounds right by his ear and he circled your clit.

“Not going anywhere, princess. You can give me a few more.” On cue, Rafe felt you pulse and become even wetter.

He was able to last long enough to enjoy every second you begged for him to cum in you. Rafe hauled both legs over his shoulders and drilled into you until he spilled into your entrance. He grunted and watched as every drop filled you.

“God you’re so hot when you’re stuffed. But now I gotta see that ass bounce as I hit it from the back. I got a lot of years worth to let out, doll.”

@hauntedfawnn @eerielamb @cameronsprincess @stillwjk-channie-lixie @sturnioloshacker @starkeysbabygirl @rafesheaven @rafescvntyclubgf @eddiesxangel @songbirdmunson @loserboysandlithium @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @marchsfreakshow

[strayingawayy]

extra credit...

...the one where jisung is an infuriating fuck, but fuck, he's a hot fuck

aka playboy jisung x nerd reader (warnings: lil bit of crude language, swearing, sexual jokes)

you’re trying to study.

keyword: trying.

because sitting across from you, balancing a pencil on his nose and looking insufferably pleased with himself, is han jisung. self-proclaimed campus casanova, owner of a 3.0 gpa (on a good day), and, unfortunately or fortunately, your assigned partner for the semester-long research project and personal eye candy for this dramatically long assignment. not that you'd ever admit that last part.

"you know," he says, letting the pencil drop onto the open textbook that sits upside down, "for someone so smart, you make terrible life choices."

you give him a flat look. "oh? do elaborate."

"yeah," jisung leans in, smirking. "like choosing to study when you could be doing literally anything else. like, i don't know, your very handsome, very charming study partner."

you blink. "if i was out doing people, i'd find a better man to do, jisung."

"ouch," he clutches his chest, wincing and rubbing his palm across his deliriously large pec which you're sure should be supported by a bra by the end of the semester. "that actually hurt a little."

"good," you say, flipping a page with your thumb. "pain builds character."

"so does dating me." he grins. "think of all the life experience you'd gain. and don't think i didn't notice your little naruto reference there, nerd." he says the last word like it sits disgustingly on his tongue.

"think of all the brain cells i'd lose," you say, ignoring his comment on your brilliant taste in anime.

jisung snorts, tilting his chair back. "you wound me, nerd."

"good. maybe you'll be hurt enough to actually sit on your ass properly for once."

he does the exact opposite, kicking his feet up on the chair next to him. "seriously though," he says, stretching. "i don’t know why you work so hard. you already have the highest gpa in the class. what’s a few missed assignments?"

"excuse me?" you gape at him, flabbergasted. "a few missed assignments? jisung, that’s academic blasphemy, it's sacrilegious, it's lamentable. it-"

"see, this is why we balance each other out," he says, pointing at you and sighing, as though recovering from the heavy vocabulary you just dumped on him.

"you take things too seriously. i teach you how to chill, to fuck, to appreciate hot men and women, yada yada yada and in return, you help me get through this class without flunking out. win-win."

"more like i win, you leech off my intelligence," you mutter, but he just grins, completely unbothered as he runs a hand through his stupid, fluffy hair.

"so," he drawls, voice going slightly deeper, "if i get an A on this project, do i get extra credit?"

"no."

"damn. what if i get an A and take you out to dinner?"

you pause, leveling him with a look. "isn't that just you getting extra credit?"

jisung winks. "now you’re getting it."

"unbelievable," you mutter, shaking your head.

"but tempting," he teases.

you throw an eraser at him.

he catches it smoothly and fuck, he looks hot, still grinning. "baby steps, sweetheart. baby steps."

the nickname has you telling your foolish heart to be still before it ruins this one for you.

[erinwantstowrite]

you reposted a video of trump saying “you want me to go swimming”

and i just want to take a moment to recognize how actually insane that is.

like that’s how our president responds to tragedy? with no empathy?

the presidents role is to be the face and voice of america and her people, and for every loss of life, for every tragedy, and for all the pain her people must go through, the president must feel it. that is a heavy burden, but it is one our president must carry. our president represents us. there should be a level of class, of respect, and dignity in a president, that our current president does not fulfill

he is a sorry excuse for a leader, a role model, a human being, he is above all, a pathetic man who should not have the privilege of speaking for america and her people.

and even if you agree with his harmful policy’s, how dare you let our voice be so callous about lost lives? about children? it is disgusting. a president should have a level of poise when they speak, strong encouraging words instead of unintelligible insults

and the tiniest bit of hope i had, the smallest shred that this wasn’t all bad, has been ruined and tarnished, because excuse me for thinking that perhaps our leader would respond with even the smallest bit of empathy instead of placing blame everywhere else

he makes me sick.

THIS!!! EXACTLY!!!

(i promise this anecdote below is relevant to this bear with me)

when i was in high school, i was part of a very very good band program. there were a lot of talented people and we managed to take up a huge chunk of the school population. it was guaranteed to have at least two band kids in a class, and this was a AAA school. this is important because our reputation as band kids... was that we were always going to be the best students you had. not because of grades, but because of character. the same went for the many programs that we went to. if we were at a district competition, we were quiet when we had to be, we cheered for other bands, we would lend our equipment, etc etc. i can't think of any instances not only in my time there but before or after where people would groan when they thought about us coming to their event. because there were no incidences that made people think twice about inviting us

how we got that kind of reputation? my band directors built an environment in the band where we wanted to do great. "character, commitment, competence, capacity" were the 4 C's that were put on the wall. this is the best example that I could find, where I think communication and commitment are the same:

every student took up a leadership role even if you weren't handed a title like "drum major" or "section leader". we learned about how to represent ourselves and the people in our community, and we were proud of that. like yeah we might have sounded like a bunch of fucking nerds, but it was a good place to be.

often we heard adults wondering how the hell our band directors managed such a feat. it was such a large band that there should have been at least one group of teenagers that acted out or something. but that was incredibly (and i mean incredibly) rare, and were never so bad that it couldn't be immediately fixed.

it was possible because we had good role models!!

our band directors worked with every teacher on campus, brought us to community events, they had food drives and toy drives, etc etc. they were funny but they knew when to get work done, they created a space where we felt comfortable with them and wanted to make them proud.

i don't see anything like that when i see Trump, nor do i see it in people that voted for him. his Character is not just rude but nasty. his attitude towards the people he's supposed to be representing and caring about was absolutely intolerable. when asked if he cared about the lives of these people (WHO BY THE WAY, DIED MINUTES AWAY FROM WHERE HE IS RESIDING), he was a snarky fucking brat. he was childish and replied with THAT? "You want me to go swimming?"

I'M SORRY??

that was the most WILD, out of line shit i have heard him say in a minute. that was blatant disrespect on the lives of the people that were lost, their families that have to live with the grief for the rest of their lives, and to the American people that were hoping something would be said to comfort and ease our minds.

his statement was read off of a paper that someone else 100000% wrote for him. and then he went out of his way to say that DEI is responsible for it?????? THE DEI??????

you know why he said that shit? because it was his fault! he is directly responsible for air traffic control not having enough people that night. he fired 100 FAA senior officials, there was the hiring freeze that HE demanded, the Aviation Safety committee was disbanded, demanded for existing employees to leave, offered the buy it out. and then that plane went down- the worse air collision in the US in 16 years.

he can't take responsibility. he won't do that, because he would have to admit that it was his fault. that's a pretty trick that narcissists love to do. they come up with excuse after excuse for why something couldn't be their fault, it always has to lie with someone else. and he chose to blame... diversity?

the thing that really gets me about this DEI shit is that most of these people will argue that we need to get rid of it because people should be hired for their merit and not because of the color of their skin or gender. THAT'S WHY THE DEI EXISTS. because if it DIDN'T, only white men would be hired- for the color of their skin, because of their gender, and NOT because of their merit. diversity in our workplaces is how we end up being able to see different perspectives. the US is a melting pot of cultures and that's supposed to be a beautiful thing. the fact that we are still having arguments about it is because there are still people in power who do not want us being unified as a nation. they directly benefit from us believing that "the black man/ the latino man/ the white man" are the enemy. the enemy isn't the person who looks or acts different to you, the enemy are the people who are supposed to be representing us that are only acting out of their best interests.

Trump will never admit that he was wrong about something. It's not in his character. He is not a giving, caring man, who wants the best for the people. He is a lying, cheating, scum of the earth that sits on a "throne" built on the backs of people that do the work for him and who he has divided using hate and envy, then he props his feet up on a footstool made of his ugly pride, and he sticks his big fat thumb in his mouth, taking up all the room for that silver spoon.

He has no commitment to us as the people (even the ones that voted for him) nor to the people also in power that are loyal to him. I believe that in no time at all, he's going to get greedy and they're going to eat him alive, because Trump isn't even smart enough for any of this, there's someone else pulling the strings. He is an incompetent man child with no accountability for his actions, he has failed nearly every business that he touched and only has his money because of what his family had built before him. And he has no capacity for greatness nor does he have critical thinking skills. He props his words up with fluffy decorations and lies right through his teeth, and the people that voted for him are lapping it up like dogs starved. People are about to find out real fucking quick that Trump has been playing it easy and using the benefits of other people's work before him to make himself look good.

And they're not even going to get their eggs.

[ectonurites]

Do you think the use of Ariana was made to prop up timber in the valentine's day special.

And on another note what do you think of the lack off explicit callbacks to tim/steph but callbacks with ariana.

i mean like you have a valentine's day story with tim and stephanie shows up and you mention tim having many gf's in the past but choosing callbakcs and explicit references to ariana but not steph when she shows up.

really hope they don't start doing where any callbacks to tim's romances are his past minor gf's and not steph and pretend they are just friends with no romantic history

"Do you think the use of Ariana was made to prop up timber in the valentine's day special."

I think Ariana was definitely used as a prop to tell this story with little consideration given to her as an individual—the author uses Ariana's family's deli restaurant as a setting and uses her past relationship to Tim as a way to connect things but doesn't actually have her do anything else in the story. Except, well, mention Tim & Bernard's relationship.

Now, to be fair, there really are times in stories (especially short ones as part of an anthology like this) where you just need a throwaway character to do something for a moment for the sake of moving the plot along. Acting like every single character who shows up in a story needs to be Super Important And Fleshed Out In That Specific Story is unrealistic and frankly ridiculous.

But but but but... a character who was once a prominent love interest & supporting character for one of the leads you are writing about isn't the same as a nameless throwaway, you know? Especially when you're mentioning that connection specifically—of her being Tim's first girlfriend (rather than it just being a wordless cameo or something) in a story that’s premise hinges on Tim having dating experience.

Ariana is a character who hasn't appeared since like 1999, so pulling her out of the woodwork to be used for one panel while also... needing to make a huge logic leap with her to make it even work—something the writer felt fine with just explaining as having happened off-panel—is really frustrating and annoying. I'm talking, of course, about Ari just suddenly knowing Tim's identity as Robin. You know, the root of most challenges that they faced in their relationship because he couldn't be honest with her about it. Yeah that's just no big deal now, apparently.

That's what pisses me off about this the most—bringing her back only to brush off the sources of conflict between her and Tim and make everything all okie dokie in a completely unearned way. Now to be clear: I don't think it's a bad thing for Ariana to be like, nice about Tim & Bernard being together now—especially because in her last speaking appearance before this that I'm aware of [Robin #66], the two of them had cleared some air on still wanting to be friends even though they're no longer dating. But I do think using her one speech bubble of dialogue to mention how she 'owes' him and Bernard a dinner feels off.

If there were like... an actual conversation between Ari & Tim and during that she said something nice about Tim & Bernard/something about being happy for him, then I don't think it'd feel so weird. And I will say, this is a short story so I get there not being the page space to resolve Tim & Ari's history in a story that's not about that, I really do. But this is the first time she's shown up in about 25 years! Using her in a story and having a big reveal like Tim's identity and not touching on any of that but making sure you do use her single dialogue bubble to mention her ‘owing’ Tim & to mention the relationship btwn Tim & his current love interest??? That just feels weeeird!!!!!!

It feels like her purpose in this story was largely to show a lack of conflict in Tim's current life and that everyone around him is super enthusiastically pro Tim being with Bernard, without actually considering much about her as a character. Which… again, this story isn’t about her, it’s about Tim & Damian… but… it’s still just frustrating when this isn’t a character we can just go read some other book published in the last two decades to see her actually get used well in, this is a character we very well may not see for another 25 years after this.

"And on another note what do you think of the lack off explicit callbacks to tim/steph but callbacks with ariana. i mean like you have a valentine's day story with tim and stephanie shows up and you mention tim having many gf's in the past but choosing callbakcs and explicit references to ariana but not steph when she shows up. really hope they don't start doing where any callbacks to tim's romances are his past minor gf's and not steph and pretend they are just friends with no romantic history"

Yeah I think that also felt a little weird too. This definitely would have been a time that made sense to bring up their history—but also this story was just weird in regards to Steph overall (with Damian's 'Stephanie is too female' line as to why he couldn't ask her for girl advice...?) so I dunno if it's something to think of as a larger trend or if this was more just that particular writer being weird.

Considering the writer also (in the post I already linked earlier) said this about Tim's past love interests—"I figure Tim probably carried some guilt re: his relationship with Ariana, but less with his other love interests?"—I really feel like he just doesn't have a great grasp on Tim's previous relationships at all. Tim is like the fucking poster child for 'feels guilty about everything he's done ever'.

To act like he's not wracked with near-equal levels of guilt about how pretty much all of his past relationships (esp with civilians) went is nuts. Ariana is not the one I would single out from that bunch as somehow him feeling more guilty about than the rest (the only real justification for that I could think of is if you were to explore his guilt over him starting to have feelings for Steph while he & Ari were still together but from the way the rest of that writer's interaction is talking solely about Robin-identity related stuff, I don't think that's what he had in mind?). What about Zo who he ashamedly broke up with over the phone, feeling as if he'd already let her down too many times? What about Tam who he let think her father was dead for days because even though she knew he was a superhero he still couldn’t fully let her in which caused the slow building relationship between them to explode? Tim and Ari actually had a civil face-to-face break up at school and talked in a friendly way afterwards! Not to say he shouldn't feel guilt there with her because there are reasons he should, but acting like it's somehow a higher level of guilt than he’d have with the others is just odd.

Anyway that's getting a bit off topic. But yes, while I'm very much so not opposed to the idea of Tim's previous girlfriends getting to be referenced/come back in some fashion, I do also hope that it doesn't mean Tim & Steph's history will get thrown to the side. And I'd hope that if they do get to come back, they'd actually get to be... characters, who have dynamics with other characters, rather than just cardboard cutouts there to say one nice thing and then fade back into comic limbo for the rest of eternity.

[sofreddie]

Resigned 13

Summary: Y/N gets to experience her first Supernatural convention.

Characters: Alpha!Jensen x Omega!F!Reader, Alpha!Jared, Others

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Omegas are second-class citizens/mistreated, Fluff, Smut (Unprotected Sex, Knotting, Claiming, Minor Roleplay)

WC: 3,103

A/N: I'm so happy to see how far these characters have come and excited about the challenges they still get to face. I've never been to a convention, so I'm just going off what little I know, so bear with me on that. Feedback is appreciated. : )

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Part 12

Arriving at the convention was an experience all its own.

From the moment they neared the location, an exciting and electrifying energy filled the air. The convention was held in a large and beautiful hotel and convention hall facility, like the one where she worked. Upon seeing the building, Y/N waited for the flurry of bad memories, but instead, she found herself wistful about the job she once had and hopeful she might work something like it again. She had a knack for hotel management and really enjoyed it.

Since Jensen and Jared were being dropped at the front, doing fan service upon their arrival, Jensen arranged for security personnel to escort her through the back. She agreed, not ready to interact with strangers about her Alpha or her life with him. She also didn't want to interfere or ruin the convention energy, knowing how protective he could be and how important the conventions were to them.

Instead, she was escorted to her and Jensen's hotel suite. She busied herself with putting things away and setting up the room for their stay. While she wasn't attending any festivities from a fan's perspective, she could observe unseen from behind the scenes and still get the whole gamut of events and her Alpha in his element.

When Jensen entered the room, he couldn't help but grin. Y/N was swaying her hips to low-pitched music and humming, and her happy scent filled the room as she looked over her work.

"Someone's happy," Jensen teased, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck.

His scent enveloped her before his arms did, and she melted with a happy sigh into him.

"Ready for dinner?"

She turned in his arms and smiled nervously, "The Supernatural dinner with all the famous and sexy actors?" she teased.

Jensen chuckled, "We sometimes all get together for dinner on the first night. There are other significant others and mates, even some kids," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but you all know each other already."

"Some of them you met on set," he reassured, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to calm her nerves. Her stomach grumbled, and he laughed, kissing her hand before leading her to meet up for dinner. "We're like one big family. You'll love it, I promise."

Dinner was held in a private room in the back of an upscale hotel restaurant. She'd never dined somewhere so lovely and was more than surprised to see long tables and family-style service. It was loud, lively, and fun. He was right; it didn't take long for her to feel welcomed and at home. By the time dinner was over and they were saying their goodnights, she'd felt like one of the family.

As the weekend continued, her nervousness faded. The cast, the fans, the energy—everything had her head spinning in a good way. She was almost sad she had never attended a convention before. The energy was different when the convention was held at her former hotel. Providing the best service and keeping everything running smoothly felt more urgent. Now, she got to be someone who just enjoyed it, though she missed that former life the longer they were here.

She often found herself glancing at employees or studying maps and hallways, trying to guess who did what and what led where based on her former knowledge. It was a little game she played with herself, almost pretending she could still work and live that life. Regardless, she didn't let it detract from the truly memorable events around her.

Seeing the photo ops was interesting for her. People waited in long lines just to have several seconds with the guys. She laughed over the poses and props that fans brought, and her heart was warmed at some of the more emotional meetings. The panels and more intimate meets were just as fascinating as she learned more about the show, the fandom, and Jared and Jensen. These guys were more than just actors or pretty faces. To some, they were lifelines or connections to something bigger than themselves.

She understood that completely because she felt the same.

-

Jensen felt like he was on top of the world. In fact, he felt damn spoiled. He always enjoyed the conventions, mingling with fans, messing around with Jared and Misha and the others. It was always memorable, and he was excited to share it with Y/N. She took in everything with wide, sparkling eyes and a soft smile, her scent positive and light.

He had ulterior motives for Y/N outside of just enjoying the convention. He wanted the weekend to double as a date. They'd mated and dealt with much that came with it. But they hadn't taken any time to date and get to know each other, so he figured the convention weekend would be a good opportunity. And he hadn't been disappointed.

At Friday's dinner with the cast, she was initially shy. However, Jared and Gen easily introduced her to conversations and encouraged her to open up and talk more. Halfway through dinner, after having a few drinks, she was openly chatting with those around her, chiming in on conversations, and acting as though she belonged there. Jensen knew she did; she just needed the push. It was important to him that she realized she had friends and a whole network to lean on.

Someone mentioned how great the hotel was in accommodating them and the convention. That's when Y/N mentioned she worked in a similar hotel and how frenzied it was on the host and customer service side. The table listened in as she talked about the other side of things, the work, and the details involved in making everything go smoothly. Jensen was impressed, watching as she captivated the table and spoke confidently on a topic she truly understood and enjoyed. He finally felt like he was seeing the person she was, and he was falling all over again.

Saturday, he spent his time between convention events and sneaking little moments with Y/N. They would chat, snack, and enjoy each other's company, and he learned things about her that he didn't know before. She was quirky and a dork, which was great 'cause so was he. She was kind and well-spoken and managed to charm everyone around her even when she wasn't trying.

He also noticed her taking in details of the hotel and drifting off. He thought back to when they met—and her speech at dinner—and suddenly felt overwhelming guilt that she had lost everything because of him because she was his True Mate. He knew he'd talk about it with her later in the privacy of their suite.

Just the thought of being alone with her had him on edge and yearning. His rut had been gradually surfacing over the weekend. Though it had become more manageable since mating, he still wasn't quite back to a standard, predictable cycle. Neither was Y/N after the suppressants, but they were healing and getting to that point. He was confident that he could control his rut and not have feral issues like before.

Jensen was eager to have her to himself when they crashed into their hotel room late Saturday night. He was dragging - nearly carrying - her along with him while she giggled, the two of them far too drunk after the night's festivities.

Y/N had a lot of fun at the concert, letting herself go and openly swooning and practically catcalling Jensen while he performed. She might have been embarrassed, except she wasn't the only one doing such a thing. And she might have bristled at all the others giving her Alpha all that attention, but she was too focused on said man to really care about anything else.

They crashed and tumbled through the door, laughing and shushing each other at the late hour. They fell to the bed in tangled limbs, mouths fused in sloppy kisses. But a quick breath turned into both of them promptly passing out, still fully clothed, shoes on and feet hanging off the bed.

When Jensen woke the following day, his cell phone rang and buzzed like mad in his pocket, and a banging sounded in the distance. He wasn't sure if someone was actually banging or if his head was just throbbing from the hangover. Y/N was still out beside him, mouth wide and drooling, hair a mess. He smirked, brushing the mess of locks from her face and kissing her cheek. Groaning, he sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and lamenting the mild hangover.

It became apparent that the banging was actually knocking on the room door. He forced himself up and answered the door to find Jared upbeat and chipper. It grated his nerves, but when Jared hung up his phone and passed Jensen a fresh, strong coffee, all was forgiven.

"I'll be back in twenty," Jared smirked. "Get cleaned up, or we'll be late."

Jensen grumbled and nodded as he shut the door and got ready for the last day of the convention. He was bitter that he didn't get to have Y/N last night, and now, he wouldn't get to have her in the morning, either. There was always work to do. Taking a quick shower, he dressed and jotted a quick note to leave for Y/N. She didn't even stir as he kissed her cheek, only began to snore. Jensen laughed and calmed himself, knowing she was here, and after the contractual requirements, he could come back and satiate their needs without interruption.

-

By midday, Y/N stirred awake. She immediately recognized a hangover, clutching at her head with a groan. Her mouth was dry, and she felt rather gross. But then the memories of the night before flitted back to her mind, and she grinned. She had let loose, feeling comfortable enough to do so, and Jensen, too, relaxed. Together, they had a really fun night—almost like two people without a care in the world.

Forcing herself from the bed to the bathroom, she relieved herself and splashed water on her face. Going back to the suite, she noticed Jensen was gone. She grabbed her phone and realized the time before spotting the note left by Jensen. She giggled; she couldn't help it, loving how adorable and thoughtful he could be.

However, she was disappointed in herself for passing out when they returned and not waking before he left. She knew he was in a rut and would need her, but more than that, she had really wanted him, completely turned on after their exciting evening. She checked in with Jensen and apologized. He told her not to worry, to relax, to order room service, and to have a day in if she wanted, and she really did want that.

Jensen's enticing Alpha scent, more potent from his rut, reached her senses before she heard his key card in the door. She hadn't realized the time, but her body moved before she could even tell it to do so, meeting Jensen at the entrance as he closed the door behind him. She practically pounced on him, and he grinned, pressing her back into the door. He kissed along her neck and claim, taking deep lungfuls of her scent.

One hand squeezed her hip, and the other clutched her hair, tilting her head for him. He moaned as she ran her fingers through his hair, allowing him to scent her. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes, finding her pupils dilated, and her scent bloomed.

"This is just like our first time," Y/N smirked sultrily, not a hint of anger.

"I'm so sorry, 'Mega. Y/N," he whined, caressing her cheek and kissing her again. "That was never how I wanted it to go. I never wanted to hurt you or force you. My rut-"

"I know," she responded, placing a finger over his lips to stop his rambling. "So show me."

"What?"

"Show me, Alpha. Show me how that first time should have gone."

"A little roleplay, Omega?" Jensen smirked, pressing himself against her, letting her feel how much he needed her.

"Yes, Alpha. Please?"

Jensen captured her mouth with a groan, knowing he couldn't deny her anything when she begged him like that. He barely remembered that first time through the haze of his near-feral rut. She mainly had disassociated during the act, and the suppressants and blockers kept her from feeling and knowing their bond. Now, it was different. She was clear of any substance, and Jensen was in control of his rut, even if the cycle was still off. He picked her up, grinning when her legs wrapped around him.

He carried her toward the large bed in the room, their eyes locked. Stopping at the end, he playfully tossed her onto the mattress. She landed and bounced with a surprised squeal, followed by a giggle. Jensen tried not to laugh and stay 'in character,' hoping he could almost rewrite their first time in their minds.

"So strong," she purred as he climbed over her with a hungry gaze. "I can't believe Jensen Ackles is my Alpha," she swooned.

He couldn't stop laughing, then nipped at her collarbone, "Brat," he muttered. Rising, he gazed down at her in awe. "I've been waiting so long for you."

She wanted to kiss him passionately. Instead, he swiftly moved down her body, divesting her of her pants and underwear before she even realized what he was up to. All the best of his Alpha was on display for her. It made her heart flutter and her pussy throb. He stood at the end of the bed, taking off his clothes as he licked his lips and trailed his eyes over her body.

"Take that off," he growled, nodding towards her top as he stripped down to just his boxers.

She was quick to comply, and the second she was naked, he dove straight into her pussy, eating her out like a man starved, moaning at the flavor on his tongue. He continued until she was writhing, on edge, and begging him for more. He stopped just before she came, wanting to tease and draw it out. She gasped and whined as he kissed and bit his way up her body, making her moan and hiss and squirm. 

He paused to give special attention to her breasts, teasing, sucking, and licking until she nearly came from that alone. But as before, he stopped just shy of pushing her over that edge, making her whine in protest. He chuckled as he kissed his way to her neck, licking over her claim and rutting against her.

"Taste and smell so damn good," he groaned into her neck. "Wanna make you mine, Omega," he breathed, staring down at her and trying to maintain the roleplay, even though they were both too far gone to keep up the pretense. "Wanna knot and claim you."

"Alpha!" she moaned, rutting back against him and delighting in the teasing bite he gave to her neck. "Yes, Alpha! Please."

In the back of her mind, she knew this wasn't even close to how she reacted their first time. However, with everything out of her system, the connection was undeniable. Claimed as they were, dual-bound to one another, everything felt lit up in neon between them.

Jensen angled his hips and slid within her, harshly and without warning, her slick more than enough to ease his way. While Y/N moaned like a pornstar, he felt like he might cry, the feel of her and their connection nearly overwhelming.

"Feel fucking incredible," Jensen moaned as he moved, his thrusts harsh and deep. 

His rut drove him to be less gentle, but he already knew she could take it all and more. It didn't take long for her to come undone around him after all the build-up. Before she even came down, he withdrew and flipped her over. He lifted her hips and pressed her shoulders down into the mattress, thrusting inside and starting a rough and brutal pace. 

Y/N had abandoned all thoughts about roleplay, submitting entirely to her Alpha and the harsh but delicious way he was claiming her whole body. She knew she was moaning and shouting, screaming for her Alpha, and she couldn't care at all. The headboard cracked loudly against the wall, and Jensen was sure there'd be complaints, but he, too, didn't care one fucking bit.

She came again, her body tensing, before she gushed over his cock. "Fuck, always so good for me," he purred as he lay over her and hitched one leg up to open her further to him.

He slowed his pace, focusing on feeling how deep inside her he was. His knot was ready to pop, but he wanted to feel her come for him again. He found her clit, rubbing tight small circles over it as he continued his pace, kissing along her shoulders and neck as he encouraged her toward her last climax. As soon as she did, his knot popped, locking them together. He bit into his claim, renewing the mark. As her blood hit his tongue, he continued rutting his hips into her, riding out their highs.

Jensen carefully shifted them to their sides and spooned Y/N while they waited for his knot to go down. He focused on her claim, licking it clean and ensuring it was sealed and healed as before. 

"That was amazing," she turned her head to smile at him.

"I'm sorry it wasn't like that in the beginning."

"Don't," Y/N said, shaking her head. "You have to know I forgive you for everything. We wouldn't be who or where we are if anything were different. I love you completely with all of me."

Jensen knew it was the truth. He could feel it, knew it deep in his soul, and cherished every moment. "I love you, too. So much," he spoke, kissing her.

As she settled to sleep, Jensen pondered over the old fairytales and his parents' stories about True Mates. He was regaled by tales of the everlasting, soul-deep bonds and the romanticism of it all. But now, he finally understood for himself what it all meant and how it felt. He would do anything for Y/N. He was trying to change the world for her and loved her with every fiber of his being.

As he snuggled into her to sleep, he decided that fairytales were nothing compared to the real thing.

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

@hobby27

@kazsrm67

@maliburenee

@440mxs-wife

@writercole

@spnbaby-67

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@leigh70

@laycblack

@kr804573

RPF:

@smoothdogsgirl

JENSEN ACKLES:

@slamminmine

@deandreamernp

@akshi8278

@mimaria420

RESIGNED:

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@sexyvixen7

@deans-spinster-witch

@deans-baby-momma

@muhahaha303

@deansimpalababy

@evilunicorns4minions

[yoonjae20]

Ric(hard) Fenton; Part 3

Read on ao3.

Masterlist. Previous.

For several minutes after Jason gently laid Dick down, Jason just sits there, head in his hands as his world falls apart around him. 

He doesn’t know how long it takes — it could have been minutes or hours until he pushes himself to stand. He hesitates at the door, looking over to where Dick and Danny are laying. Dick must have moved during his sleep because he has a hand grasped around the hem of Danny’s shirt. They look so peaceful like that — but the sight of Danny screaming as he gets repeatedly electrocuted and Dick’s face twisting with pain is still burned into his retina. The pit rage roars at the sight. 

He leaves the building, hoping that he’ll be able to find his way back to it as he sneaks through the empty streets of Amity Park once again. He keeps to alleyways and stays out of the open, shoulders tense as he tries to make not a single sound. The city feels like a maze and the longer Jason trots through it, the more he wishes that he would have at least waited until Dick woke up — he has not a single clue where he is supposed to find an Ecto-Dejecto. The only clue he has is that Danny’s parents are crazy enough to build a portal into their basement — so he can only hope they are also eccentric enough that their home would stand out in the rows of family homes.

Now if he could only find his way out of the more commercial and industrial district of the town so he doesn’t have to stare at more skyscrapers, that would be great. Whoever decided on this infrastructure deserves hell. And he can’t even use the rooftops to orient himself from a higher vantage point because he of course forgot to bring his grapple hook with him and the skyscrapers are so high that even if he found a building with a fire exit ladder, they would block his view anyway. 

Suddenly the hairs on his neck stand up on their own and Jason pulls his gun, about to shoot until he comes face to face with the Blob Ghost from before. He blinks away the Pit Rage, perplexed as the ghost nuzzles his cheek, radiating safe, happy, protect. 

“Hey buddy,” Jason says, weirdly not being creeped out about the feeling of the ghost on his skin. “Think you could help me out?”

Confused, wary, scared.

“Do you know where Danny’s home is?”

Recognition, proud, excited.

“You do?” Jason feels a bit like a nut-jub talking to the ghost considering it can only communicate through emotions, but he still follows as it floats away. Better than wandering around lost even if it might lead him to the wrong house. He can start from there, if need be. 

It’s a bit hard navigating the city with a ghost as his tour guide, considering it just phases through the buildings in its path, leaving Jason to scramble after it. It takes every bit of Bat Training for Jason to follow in its step and to not lose it. He slowly starts to understand what Dick and Danny meant by Blob Ghosts being a bit stupid — they seem to have a single-minded focus. If Jason lost sight of it, he doesn’t think the Blob Ghost would notice until he arrived where the hell it is leading Jason to. 

By the time they come across the house he’s more than out of breath and sweaty. He stares at the big, bold sign titled “Fenton” and the large — whatever that is supposed to be on top of the roof and decides — yeah, there is no way this isn’t Danny’s home. The Blob Ghost makes a beeline towards it and disappears inside. 

Jason goes up to the door and to his surprise it’s not even closed, but slightly ajar. He knits his eyebrows together — remembering how the one agent told Dick they had taken the Fenton’s from their home. As Jason steps into the house it becomes clear that there was some kind of struggle — a broken vase on the floor, several holes in the walls — obviously the Fenton’s hadn’t just offered themselves up. He glances at the photos of the wall as he searches for the basement door, finally able to put faces to the names. 

Even from the pictures it’s easy to tell that they are a chaotic family and Jason is surprised to see that the latest picture includes Dick, the man standing between Danny and his sister as he beams at the camera. He wonders if the picture was made before or after the man regained his memories. 

Despite the situation he is in, Jason can’t resist snooping around as he inspects the inside of the house — while he might not like to admit it, he’s still a Bat after all. There’s a half-assembled invention on the kitchen table next to a carton of milk as well as a box of cereal and ghost magnets pin a class schedule on the fridge. By the looks of it seems like it might be Danny’s. Jason almost steps into the shards of a broken bowl as he steps closer to read through it and he gags as the smell of spoiled milk hits his nose. 

He steps back and tries covering his nose with the hem of shirt to no avail. His eyes trail the destruction from the kitchen to the front door. They probably overwhelmed whoever opened the front door before moving into the kitchen and surprising the other two. With the amount of agents they have, the Fentons had no chance.

He moves through the kitchen, side stepping the mess on the floor and finally finding the door leading down the basement. If he thought the rest of the house was messy but obviously lived in, the lab looks even worse. Mad Scientists fits the bill well — there isn’t a single surface that isn’t covered with either some suspiciously glowing chemicals, flasks, inventions or wires and machinery. And that isn’t even talking about the swirling portal that looks like a nightmarish Lazarus Pit. 

He sees the Blob Ghost floating in front of it before it enters it, leaving Jason behind.

Jazon drifts to the computer and his eyebrows rise to the top of his hairline as he realizes it’s not even password protected. He decides against snooping in their files — he already lost enough time as is. He searches for Ecto-Dejecto and feels baffled when the blueprints detail it being a literal syringe with the words Ecto-Dejecto printed on it. He looks around the mess and lets out a big sigh — here’s to finding the needle in the haystack. 

It takes him way too long to find where they store the serum. Jason thought the Batcave had many gadgets, but it’s nowhere close to the amount the lab holds. There’s also concerningly amount of weapons, making it obvious the Fentons must have been Ghost Hunters at some point in time — but he trusts Dick’s judgment of character. Dick would have never let Danny stay in this home if he was at risk of getting hurt by his parents. 

Also Danny made it clear that most of the town, along with Jason and Dick themselves are liminal and he can’t imagine that the Fentons didn’t used to have alarms or internal defenses against ghosts or as Dick calls them “ectoplasmic entities” — especially with an open portal to the Infinite Realms. They would have been activated by now if they were still any. 

He pockets the serum and makes his way back upstairs. Now to the bigger problem. How the hell is he supposed to find his way back to where he left Danny and Dick? He doesn’t have a guide anymore and he took so many twists and turns to follow the Blob Ghost that he lost all orientation. Not even speaking about the fact that he had wandered the town before that.

Jason sighs before he shakes his head. He doesn’t have time to hesitate, he just has to pick a direction and hope something seems familiar so he can retrace his steps from there. Mind made up, he heads across the street, but before he is able to duck back into an alleyway, something heavy hits his head. He has barely enough time to see a blurry white outline before he passes out. 

Bruce is already in the Batplane as Tim explains the situation and the information he found out. Damian had insisted on coming with Bruce but he hadn’t relented. He already put two of his sons at risk because he made a mistake — he will not be doing another that will lead to their death again.

The comm line is charged with tension as Bruce mans the plane to fly to Amity Park at record time and Oracle directs him so he doesn’t interfere with any commercial flights. In the meantime Tim works on activating the tracker on Dick — after Bruce got lost in the time stream, everybody but Jason — Bruce hadn’t asked him although he wanted to — had agreed to wearing a tracker at all times as an emergency beacon in case they disappeared or got kidnapped. 

He has a location once he sets down outside the city, leaving the Batplane behind. The sun will rise in an hour — he only has a small time window. 

“Oracle, do we have eyes?”

“Negative, something seems to be interfering with the signal.”

Bruce grunts and the sign he walks past almost seems to be mocking him. ‘Amity Park — It’s calm here.’

“Avoid people in white suits at all cost,” Tim informs Bruce just in time as he ducks into an alleyway and hides behind a garbage can as a group of agents holding strange blasters walk past it, discussing something.

“I always thought Operative O was too cocky — he had it coming.”

Someone snorts.

“No one will be missing him, for sure.”

Bruce knits his eyebrows together as the voices fade. A casualty on their side? Jason, Dick and Danny have only been in Amity for mere hours. How has something already gone wrong?

“Did you copy that Red?” 

“Copied. Operative O is one of the main agents assigned to Amity Park. He’s…” Tim hesitates rarely and it’s enough for Bruce to know that the man must be a big deal. “...rogue material.”

“Hood then,” Bruce affirms and strangely doesn’t even feel angry about the fact. “ETA for the signal?”

“15 minutes if you stay on the ground, 10 if you use shortcuts.”

“I’ll make it in 5.” Bruce aims his grapple at one of the roofs and swings himself up. They have no idea in which state they’ll find Dick in — according to Tim his signal has been stagnant for the last two hours. There’s also no guarantee that either Jason or Danny will be with him. “Prepare the Batplane for extraction.”

“Copied.”

Bruce runs across the rooftops, barely giving himself time to think as he hurries in the direction of the signal, using his grapple to catapult himself forward even as it strains his arms and shoulders. He slides down using the cord of the grapple, using minimal time to make sure they aren’t agents waiting in ambush before he storms into the building. 

He’s barely two steps in before Danny lunges at him with an animalistic snarl, Bruce narrowly evading with a backward roll and getting cornered as his back hits the door. He holds up his hands in a placating gesture and it’s all he can do as the boy heaves with exertion, claws barely prickling his neck and drawing blood through his cowl. 

The boy’s pupils narrow into slits as he takes in Bruce and bares his teeth at the man, sharp canines revealing themselves— and if he didn’t know better from Tim, he would think the boy is some kind of feline meta. 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Bruce says calmly, eyes wandering to Dick’s prone form, but Danny instinctively blocks his vision, taking a few steps back. 

“And why should I believe you?” Danny growls, distrust in his eyes. 

Bruce frowns, mind reeling. 

“I don’t hurt kids.”

Danny barks out a bitter laugh. 

“Right,” he says sarcastically. “Only the bad ones.” 

Bruce knits his eyebrows together, staying quiet. 

“You are the one that implied I’m dangerous, that I need to be ‘vetted’,” Danny quotes and Bruce eyes widen — how long had the boy known? How did he find out? Did Dick tell him? — “See? Bet you are thinking of how to shut me up by now.” 

Bruce’s thoughts screech to a halt. 

“See that’s a difference between you and me. While my instinct is to trust, yours is to distrust,” Danny spits out. “But apparently not when it’s about me being a potential villain.”

“If you know I’m also Bruce Wayne... Why…” Bruce is almost afraid of the answer. “Why don’t you trust me?”

“BECAUSE YOU ALMOST KILLED ME!” Danny blurts out, panting hard before he folds into himself, voice barely a whisper. “You almost killed me — dropped me off like- like a pig to be slaughtered.” 

Danny tears his shirt down in frustration, revealing gnarly, twisted scars — a vivisection scar.

“You want to know why I don’t trust you? This is what you did to me — you and your goddamn team of heroes.” 

[jirishnesensei]

Mirio Togata x Reader | Isekai AU [18+]

Warming up to you ch3. It's an anime

⊱ Pairings - mirio 3rd year student x reader

⊱ About - Boku No Hero Academia was your favourite anime. You watched it every week when a new episode came out, but what if you were transported into the world?Having no clue how you got there and you're being accused of being a part of the League Of Villians.Suffice to say, it's not the best way to start the show.

⊱ Warnings/tags - 18+ (eventually), fluff(for the most part), angst, smut, fem reader, romance, pining, SLOW BURN, swearing, friends to lovers, death, jealousy, she falls first he falls harder, mirio is mean (with reason), first everything, sassy mirio, fangirl reader, unrequited love

⊱ status - ongoing

⊱ chapters - 3/x

⊱ word count - 2.4k

A/N - Hello! omg it's been a long time coming posting this story here XD just wanted to say thank you for those that hearted, reblogged and all that! This is unfathomably one of my most prized stories that's been giving me a migraine for years (seriously, and still ongoing) but I hope you enjoy it as much as I have (⁠θ⁠‿⁠θ⁠) okay bye!

Mirio decided to have Sir Night eye ask you the questions about Shie Hassaikai, which was smart on his account.

Now you were both heading over to Sir Nighteyes agency bright and early in the morning. Mirio definitely didn't know what sleeping in meant. You yawned obnoxiously loud to maybe catch the attention of a certain blonde and it was a success going off of the look he gave you.

"You slept for at least 9 hours."

"Yeah, well I need twelve. Thirteen if I need to do things during the day." You answered sarcastically. It's like the boy forgot you fell down thousands of feet from the sky not even 24 hours ago. He didn't entertain anymore conversation after that and it was a fairly quick walk to the agency.

Mirio stopped infront of a large set of green doors. Pushing one open while gesturing for you to go in first. You walked through, already feeling the cold air conditioning hit your bare skin.

You were given the lovely opportunity to wash your face and brush your teeth, but you were still dressed in the same clothes from your world. You felt gross, and that's putting it lightly.

"His office is this way." Mirio says as he walked down the long corridor then started his way up the signature spiral staircase. Your body was getting tingly at the thought of meeting Sir Nighteye. What were you going to tell him? He isn't even nice... so what if he doesn't even give you a chance to speak? What if he wants you to make him laugh?! Oh god you were terrible at jokes. Now that you were hopelessly scared, you tugged on Mirios white collard shirt, making him look down at you.

"Mirio I don't know how to make Sir Night eye laugh." You didn't see it but Mirio's eyes widened at how you knew one of his mentors rules. He didn't allow you to hear the shock in his voice though.

"Don't worry, if you're telling the truth then Sir won't care if you make him laugh or not." You nodded limbly. Still a bit shaken from the idea of meeting the Sir Nighteye.

When you reached the top of the stairs and walked down one last corridor, Mirio held the door knob and looked back at you. Your head hung low, it was obvious you were psyching yourself out. He rolled his eyes, not liking how his sense of hero duties were clouding his judgement with the fact that you could be a villain. Nonetheless he faced you and held your shoulders. The contact makes your skin crawl and hold your breath and for the first time since looking at him you actually notice how blue his eyes are. Like the deepest part of the ocean where sunlight can't even reach. Okay, that's leaning more towards black... but that's just how much melanin is in his eyes.

"Stop worrying, everything will be fine." He gives you one of those hero smiles, the kind that melts your heart and nearly your legs too, but you had atleast some kind of self-control. For now.

Mirio turns back to the door so you can get distracted by his broad back instead and knocks twice before walking in, now beaming brightly as the Mirio Togata you and every bnha fan knew. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at that.

"Good morning Sir!" 

You peer past him and see the one and only Sasaki Mirai, aka, Sir Nighteye seated by his desk.

"Mirio. is this the girl?" Sir Nighteye looks you over and it feels like his gaze pierced straight through your very soul. He was so much more intimidating in person. How in the world did Midoriya have the guts to make fun of All Might under these circumstances?

"Yes Sir. She claims she has information on Shie Hassaikai." Sir Nighteye nods then thanks Mirio for the notice before telling him to head off to campus. As Mirio turned to leave, you look at him with pleading eyes to not leave you alone, ofcourse he doesn't stay... but a girl can dream, right?

The door slams shut and now it was just you and Sir Nighteye in the room. You glanced around, trying not to make direct eye contact with him and instead focused on all the All Might merchandise that was everywhere. There was actually way more than they focused on in the anime...

"Do you know what my quirk is?" Sir Nighteye startles you out of your daze and his cold voice makes you stand straighter like you're in the military.

"Yes sir! It's foresight! You are able to look into a person's future upon contact with them for an hour!" You yelled this as if you were being graded for a test. And the outcome of that test is either prison or freedom. It was only now that you realize if you can't back up your claim, you could be in some serious touble here. Sir Nighteye hmph'ed as if satisfied with your answer and then stood up from his chair, making you flinch slightly.

"So you know what will happen if I look into your future." He states calmly, removing his glasses to clean while walking around his desk and then leaned his lower back on it. Hunching slightly from his tall posture.

You nod, unsure where he was going by stating that.

"Tell me something only I would know miss..?"

"Uh (y/n)... (y/n) (l/n)" You answered.

"Miss (y/n)" He gestured for you to continue. You visibly gulped. Was it getting hot in here? It feels like it's getting hotter. What do you tell him? You could tell him about Midoriya being the successor for One For All... that should definitely prove it, but that could land you in big trouble for even knowing such a secret. You pondered and pondered over what to say, making Sir Nighteye grow impatient.

"If you don't know-"

"No wait! I do... I do know, I just don't know which scene to tell you about-" Sir Nighteye grew confused by your choice of words, but gave you a few more minutes.

You bit your lip and wrung your fingers, desperately trying to will your mind to think of something, anything. You were very nervous if it wasn't painfully obvious already.

"Oh! I know!" Sir Nighteye looked at you intently as you were about to speak. You knew exactly what to say now.

"I can tell you exactly what happened-" you start, Sir Nighteye leans a bit forward, not fooling anyone with how intrigued he was on how you could supposedly tell them exactly where Shie Hassaikai is.

"-when Midoriya came to request for a work study here!" You finished with a winning smile as if you just said the numbers to the lottery. Sir Nighteye visibly sunk at what you just said then pushed his glasses back up, clearly not impressed by your revelation.

"Wait, just hear me out atleast! Wouldn't it be crazy if I could tell you exactly what happened in this room without ever being in it? Even what happened before Midoriya and Mirio walked into the room?" You urged. Sir Nighteye sighed, looked over his shoulder at his All Might clock then back at you. 

"Okay fine, I'll bite. Tell me what happened. Before Midoriya and Mirio walked in."

You nod earnestly and rack up all of your memories from that scene. You had watched this season so many times, you couldn't get it wrong the one time you needed to truly remember it.

"Bubble girl, your assistant, was telling you about the incident that was linked to Shie Hassakai and the league of villains. I'm not sure where the place was... but you were watching an All Might video while she spoke to you and because she wasn't being humorous enough, you tied her to some torture tickling machine and started to tickle her!" You finish off like you just convinced your mother that it wasn't you who broke her favourite dish. Eagerly waiting for Sir nighteye's response.

He was definitely shocked going off of his expression. You told him near to the tea what was happening before Mirio and Midoriya walked in which so to speak should be impossible. He pushes his glasses up again, not wanting to show more of his emotion and spoke.

"What happened when they entered?" You bit your bottom lip.

Did I get something wrong?

You cleared your throat and tried to remember what happened after, "You told Midoriya that he has to make you laugh for you to consider him as an intern and so he imitated All Might, which I thought was really funny, but you accused him of ridiculing All Might and then told him his wrinkles were in the wrong places and then... you both just kinda went at it and fanboyed over All Might." You laughed nervously.

"Oh! and before you stamped Midoriyas papers you made him spar with you! Which he lost... but he completely dodged all of your All Might posters, right?!" You hold your breath. You could feel your palms sweating. You were desperately trying to get Sir Nighteye to believe you here, but his stoic expression was so difficult to read through. He sighs once more and walked over to you. You step back in fear, but he grabbed your shoulder to keep you in place and used his quirk on you. You were hypnotized the second that he did, eyes fixated on his. They were actually moving like gears... tiny, mini gears and it was incredible. Sir Nighteye lets go of you and then stood up straight again.

"It's near to impossible that you could tell me that, but I still don't understand how. What is your quirk?" He looks down at you so intensely. Your legs really felt like they were going to give in at any moment. You laugh awkwardly under his gaze that now felt like they could see right through your skin. Like you're talking intestines and everything. It made you uncomfortable.

"Its not a quirk... it's um... haha, you're gonna think this is funny, but it's an anime." His expression stays the same, as if waiting for the punchline.

I knew he wanted a joke!

"I uh, gosh," You awkwardly rub your forehead, "I don't know how else to explain it..." You look down to the ground, feeling too exposed to look him directly in the eye anymore. Sir Nighteye realized this and turned on his heel to sit back down by his desk, gesturing for you to take a seat opposite. You take his offer and sit down then suck in a decent breath, preparing for the millions of questions to follow.

"I'm not from this planet. Or whatever this place is. Back where I'm from this place is known as My Hero Academia. An anime that people around the globe watch."

⊱ Next chapter: Coming soon!

⊱ Take me to the prev chap!

Taglist - @the-faceless-bride @distinguishedoafbiscuitopera

Dividers by - @cafekitsune and @strangergraphics

[southtopaz]

PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, mention of violence, swearing, mention of death, cringe, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts.

Word count: +2,5k

A/n: this part will follow the events of Scream 6 but it will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake. Sorry for the cringe you might feel in this chapter, let’s pretend it was cute :)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19.

The subway station was packed with people dressed in elaborate Halloween costumes. As they walked through the crowd, Iris felt a shiver of fear while passing numerous horror movies costumes like Michael Myers. She wondered how long it would take before they encountered someone dressed as Ghostface.

"Is this even a good plan?" Ethan asked, nervously fiddling with the strap of his backpack.

"Probably not, but we've done dumber things," Iris replied with a shrug. "So who knows?"

"That's not exactly reassuring, Iris," Ethan shot back, his anxiety palpable.

"I wasn't trying to reassure you," she retorted. "Besides, you didn't have to come if you didn't want to."

"So we just peel off and let the killer pick us off one by one?" Ethan replied, sarcasm lacing his voice. "No, thank you."

"Let's just get to the theater," Sam muttered, pushing through the crowd.

"Yes, because it'll definitely be much less scary at the serial killer movie theater," Chad grumbled, rolling his eyes as they rushed toward the subway that had just arrived.

Sam, Tara, Iris, Danny, and Chad rushed toward the subway doors, oblivious to the fact that Mindy and Ethan had been left behind.

"Chad!" Mindy called out, but her voice was lost in the noise of the crowd. Iris glanced back when she heard her name being called, but Sam urged her forward. Believing Mindy was right behind her, she pressed on.

"Wait, where's Mindy?" Chad asked, suddenly aware of his sister's absence. He tried to move back to the doors, but they had already closed, and the subway began to pull away.

Inside the vehicle, the atmosphere was just as packed as the station had been, with bodies squished together and barely any room to breathe.

"Where's Mindy?" Sam asked, scanning the crowded space.

"She missed the train. I was going to wait for her, but cute guy dragged me on," Chad said, shooting a glance at Danny.

"I was just trying to keep us together," Danny defended himself, looking defensive.

"By pulling us apart?" Tara shot back, her distrust evident.

"Wait, so Mindy is stuck with Ethan?" Iris stated, an unsettling feeling creeping into her stomach.

"Yeah, but it's fine," Chad said, though his tone lacked conviction. He quickly checked his phone. "We'll just keep texting her. She said to not wait for her".

"Oh, shit," Iris exclaimed, her gaze locking onto something ahead. The rest turned to follow her line of sight. The subway was filled with 3 people wearing Ghostface costumes.

Her heart raced as she spotted one figure in a Ghostface outfit staring directly at her. She felt Tara gasp beside her and quickly grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly for reassurance. The tension in the subway intensified, and she silently prayed that this had nothing to do with them.

"How many stops do we have left?" Tara asked her sister, glancing around anxiously.

Sam checked the map, her expression turning grim. "Ten."

At one certain street, the subway stopped to let a large group of people off, but the figure in the Ghostface costume remained.

"Still nothing from Mindy," Chad said, his voice trembling.

Suddenly, a person in a Ghostface costume began walking toward them. Instinctively, Iris stepped in front of Tara, positioning herself as a shield. Danny mirrored the action for Sam, both of them ready to protect the Carpenter sisters. As the figure approached, they all exhaled in relief when it stepped off the train.

Iris felt a gentle tug on her hand and turned to see Tara intertwining their fingers, resting her head on Iris's shoulder, they continued the rest of the ride in that position.

Finally, they exited the station and stepped out into the cool night air, where Kirby was waiting for them.

"Hey! I talked to Bailey. Everything's set up. Where are Mindy and Ethan?" Kirby asked, noticing the two of them were missing.

"They're about five minutes behind us," Tara replied.

"Let's get you all inside," Kirby said. Just then, Sam turned to Danny.

"Not you," she said firmly.

"What?" he asked, confusion crossing his face.

"Don't trust anyone, remember? We don't really know you," Sam stated, her voice steady yet cautious.

"You know me," Danny replied, sighing.

"You're not from Woodsboro. I'm sorry," Sam said, her resolve unwavering.

"It's okay. I understand. Just... be safe, alright?" Danny said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"You too," Sam replied as the group began walking again.

"Good call," Kirby said, nodding in approval at Sam's decision.

Kirby ushered them into the building, the familiar environment pressing down on Iris. This was the second time in two days she had found herself here, and she swore it would be the last.

"I cleared the entire place before you got here," Kirby said, swinging the door wide open. "This is the only way in or out."

"Is that really a good idea? Shouldn't we have a backup exit or something?" Iris asked, unease creeping into her voice.

"It's better if we don't," Kirby replied decisively. "If he or she steps through that first door, both doors lock automatically, trapping them inside. We turn it into a kill box."

"Are there any weapons?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

"One gun and I'm holding onto it," Kirby said firmly. "I'm the only one here with a badge, and that's how it's going to be. We're safe here."

"Only one weapon? We are fucked," Iris muttered under her breath.

"I'm going to check in with Mindy," Sam announced. "See if they're close."

As Sam took off her jacket, Tara followed suit. Iris noticed Tara discreetly pull a piece of white paper from her jacket before slipping it into her back pocket.

"Iris, can you come with me to watch the hallways?" Tara asked. Iris nodded, falling in step beside her. "Chad, you'll be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll head upstairs and see if I can find something more useful," he replied, patting Iris on the shoulder. "You guys stay safe, alright?"

With that, they split up, the tension hanging heavy in the air as they prepared for what was to come.

Tara and Iris moved into the hallway, the shorter girl fidgeting with random objects on a nearby table, her nerves palpable.

"Hey, everything's going to be fine," Iris said, stepping closer. "Don't be nervous; we're going to catch him."

Tara sighed, her eyes dropping. "I know we will, but that's not what I'm nervous about." She walked toward Iris until they were face to face.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm about to do something terrible," Tara confessed. After seeing Iris's concerned expression, she quickly added, "It's nothing bad, but it could change everything if I'm wrong."

"Okay?" Iris replied, puzzled.

Tara pulled out the white paper, she had hidden just minutes ago before handing it to Iris.

"What is this?" Iris asked, confusion etched on her face.

"It's a letter—well, more like a note, but you get it," Tara explained.

"A letter? Why are you giving me a letter?" Iris's heart raced, the weight of the moment settling in.

"Well, I didn't have a locker of yours to put it in," Tara joked lightly, her voice softening as they both recalled what happened a few years ago. "You once wrote me a letter explaining your feelings, and even though I never got to read it, I thought it was only fair I write one to you."

"Tara..."

"Just read it. Who knows how much time we have?" Tara urged. "And if we die today, I want you to know how I feel about you".

"You've carried this with you all day?"

"More like all week," Tara admitted, her cheeks flushing. "I was trying to find the right moment to give it to you, but I kept putting it off. Not anymore, though."

Iris stared at her for a moment, feeling the weight of Tara's words. She took a deep breath, then shakily opened the letter, her heart pounding as she heard Tara's rapid breaths beside her.

Dear Iris,

It feels a bit strange writing you a note, but I thought it was fitting. I've spent a long time trying to figure out what to say, and the truth is, no amount of paper could express how I truly feel about you. I could write a whole book, and it still wouldn't be enough. So, I'll keep it brief and I'll use this note to admit five things I've never told you.

1. Remember how we became friends? We were six in first grade. I asked to borrow a pen because I forgot mine, and I complimented your hair. Just like that, we became inseparable. The truth? I never needed that pen. I didn't forget it. I just needed an excuse to talk to you, the cute girl that sat next to me with pink bows in her hair. Even at that age, i was already captivated by you. I don't think you realize how often I thought about those bows, how they made me smile.

2. When we were twelve, I lied to you. I told you my first crush was Kyle from history class, but I never even looked at him. You were my first crush. I realized it when we were reading together at my house, lying on the sofa. You were annoying me with your feet, giggling because you knew it drove me crazy. Then you stopped, and it was insane to realize, I was upset that you'd stopped bothering me because it meant I couldn't hear your laughter anymore.

3. I've always been jealous of anyone who got to be with you. You have no idea how hard it was to watch you be happy with someone else. I've tried to move on, to forget, but no matter what I do, I always end up thinking about you.

4. The reason I insist on watching horror movies with you, even when you don't like them, is that when you get scared, you hold my hand and don't let go until it finishes. I just want an excuse to touch you, to hold you. I hope you can forgive me for putting you through that. I promise we can switch to musicals or comedies.

5. I'm madly and deeply in love with you, and honestly? I think I always will be. I loved you when we were six, before I even knew your name. I loved you as we grew up and became best friends. I loved you when we drifted apart. I loved you when we moved to New York, and I love you right now as you stand here reading this letter, probably wondering if I'm serious. I need you to know how real this is for me.

If you don't feel the same way, I promise I'll understand. Just please don't be too harsh; my heart wouldn't be able to handle it. But if you do feel the same, then for the love of god, please just kiss me. I'm probably dying right now.

With all my love,

Tara

Iris felt her eyes welling up as she finished reading the letter, tears spilling down her cheeks. Tara, noticing, moved closer, gently wiping away the tears.

"Shit, I made you cry," Tara said, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry, Iris. I never meant to ruin our frie-"

Before she could finish, Iris leaned in and pressed her lips against Tara's, the kiss soft and tentative. As their lips met, the world around them faded away. Iris cupped Tara's face, deepening the kiss, and Tara instinctively wrapped her arms around Iris's neck, pulling her closer.

Their kisses became more urgent, filled with emotion. Tara's fingers tangled in Iris's hair while Iris's hands explored Tara's waist, drawing her body firmly against her own. They kissed deeply, pouring all their feelings into the moment.

Iris pulled back slightly, their lips barely touching, and then captured Tara's mouth again, more passionately this time. They melted into each other, Tara's hands roaming down Iris's back as she surrendered to the kiss, feeling as if time had stopped.

They broke apart, breaths mingling, foreheads resting together, but the space between them felt too far. With a playful smile, Iris leaned in again, to softly peck on her lips, their lips gently pressing against each other one more time.

Finally, they pulled away, eyes locked, both breathless and flushed, hearts racing from the intensity of the kiss. Iris tucked a loose strand of Tara's hair behind her ear, smiling widely, as she stared at the girl as if memorizing every inch of her face.

"You told me to kiss you if I felt the same way."

"I did, yeah," Tara replied, still mesmerized by the moment, unable to look away from Iris.

"My letter wasn't as good as yours, you know?" They both chuckled softly, their lips brushing as they held each other close.

"I love you too, Tara."

"You do?" Tara's eyes sparkled with surprise.

"Darling, I've loved you for most of my life. Even when I tried to fight it, a part of me always belonged to you." Iris cupped Tara's face in her hands. "But now my whole heart is yours. It has always been yours."

“You make me feel things I never thought possible. Every time I look at you, my mind goes blank because all I can think about is how stunning you are," Iris whispered, her words flowing freely. "You're the first person I want to call whenever something happens. I love our conversations, your voice, your laughter, god your eyes. You drive me crazy in the best way, and I love every moment of it."

"I love you," Tara whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.

"I love you," Iris replied softly. "I promise I'll take you on the best date of your life. Just wait until I sweep you off your feet."

"God, I can't wait," Tara said, and they kissed again, their smiles mingling with the sweetness of their lips.

“Can’t believe it only took us almost dying and having a psycho chasing us to confess our feelings”.

“Iris?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up darling”

“I’m going to ignore the disrespect just because you called me darling and it was cute” they shared a heartwarming laugh.

“Kissing you was the best thing I've ever done." Tara said, her gaze intense as she pulled Iris closer, while playing with the soft hairs at the nape of her neck.

"I don't know how I went this long without kissing you" Iris said, leaning in to whisper against Tara's lips.

"You could've done it way sooner," Tara teased, her breath warm. "But now you can make it up to me."

But not everything was destined to remain blissful forever. Just as they leaned in for another kiss, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Ghostface leaped from behind Tara and used her knife to stab her in the back making the girl scream in pain and fall to the floor.

[blairdii]

I am still dying over your possible carcar cancer fic! If/whenever you write this I just know it’s going to gut me! All I can think about is Carlos losing his hair and how upsetting that would be and what a blow to his self confidence being that everyone always talks about how attractive it makes him, especially if him and Oscar are in a new relationship or even if it’s before they get together.

oh yes!!! me personally, i want this to be the hardest hitting part of my fic. i mean, yeah, it could be perceived as shallow, but it's a reality check for carlos. that when they go in for a hug and oscar buries his hand in his hair, he's left with a large bundle of senescent strands in his palm.

of course, oscar doesn't see it, but carlos does. he sees the way the light in oscar's eyes dissolves, how his posture slumps as he remains still, eyes branding holes into the black nest before him, like it would help them magically reattach.

and every single wall carlos has built, every brick that he had laid with the words of his father, "eat or be eaten, carlos jr", every accolade of a step forward he had taken from karting carlos, to ferrari carlos, but not far enough for williams carlos— all of it goes, just like that.

his trembling hand cannot quieten the loud sob that crawls out of him.

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 110

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

If Katara had a copper coin for every time she had been kidnapped by a tyranical leader of a nation, Katara would have two copper coins. Which, admittedly, isn't very much, but it's still odd that it happened twice. Though, tequinically, she'd been kidnapped three times, if she counted when Aang thought he was helping her, and if she got kidnapped by the Earth Kingdom at some point, it felt like she should probably get some kind of award. Wait, she had been held captive by King Bumi that one time...

Anyway, this was the first time Katara was actually able to fight her way out of captivity. And she was probably having too much fun with it.

She pulled water basically from anywhere she could without bringing the building down: some sections of wall, the air, a plant in one hallway. They got lucky, as the alarm sounded, and took down a waterbending guard that was carrying a water skin.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Yue asked, as they turned down another hallway.

Katara could hear people running after them. "Not at all. In there!"

Yue dove into the door as Katara yanked ice down from the ceiling to create a barrier in the hall. She followed Yue a moment later. When she looked around the room, she found several women, and a few girls, sitting on fur pelts with sewing in hand.

"Well," Katara said, studying them. "Hello."

"Ladies," Yue said, with a bow.

The women stared at them. Katara blinked back.

"We're gonna get out of here," Katara said, then gestured vaguely at the room as a whole. "Do you.... want to come with us?"

The women glanced at each other, then tossed down their sewing to follow Katara through the hole she made in the wall.

Things only got more chaotic from there. The women that could bend were doing their best to follow Katara's lead, to bring the icy parts of the structure down on their pursuers and cutting off routes to them. Those that couldn't bend were taking anything they could carry from those that Katara knocked down, throwing and lashing out with anything that fit in their hands.

Katara couldn't be more proud.

Things came to a head when they reached what had to be the entrance, a pair of large ornate doors, which Katara and Yue pushed open with all their strength. Freedom was just beyond, but so was a blizzard on a moonlit black night.

Katara backed away as the bitter cold nipped at her fingers, razing a hand to shield her eyes as icy snow was whipped into her face, and a roar reached her ears. Behind her, one girl gave a cry of despair, that they had been so close, only to be stalled by nature itself. Katara didn't falter, and instead turned back to look at the men gathering around them.

"You stupid girl," Hahn said, as he stepped into view. He was limping. "All you had to do was stay quiet. And I would have given you back to the fire tossers. But after causing a riot? Turning these good women into traitors? I can't let that go."

Stepping forward, Katara blocked the women as best she could with her body. "You're a tyrant, Hahn," she said, scraping her brain for a plan. Anything. "And you've made a lot of people angry with your actions. The Avatar. My father. The Fire Lord." At this, the men looked uncertain. "Oh yeah. You know how strong the Fire Navy is. Their army. Think about what he'll do when word reaches him about what you've done."

"We beat the Fire Nation once before," Hahn said, clearly unconvinced, even when his soldiers were looking at him with fear. "We can do it again."

Katara barked out a laugh, making a few people flinch. "The siege ended when Zuko and Iroh helped us stop the incompetent leader, Zhao. And they still bombarded the city to a standstill. What do you think will happen when a competent leader, the Fire Lord no less, leads the charge?"

Hahn's ranks were starting to grow nervous, trying to look to their leader for guidance. Hahn didn't look convinced.

"I'll kill the firebender myself if he dares to show his face," he sneers.

Katara rose a brow, turning instead to the men. "Really?" she asked. "This is who you follow? A man willing to restart a war that has already ended, because he wants to tell women to shut up?"

"Shut up!" Hahn said, only proving Katara's point.

"Hahn," Yue said, stepping to to join Katara at the front. "Please... You're chief. You need to think about what the tribe needs. And it isn't war with the Fire Nation."

"We're going out into that storm," Katara said, when Hahn only sneered at Yue. "And you aren't going to follow us."

She stayed facing them, one hand moving to gesture for the women to step outside. There was a moment of hesitation, before they were slowly edging backwards. With each step back, the men took a half shuffle forward, waiting for orders from their leader.

When the last of them was out the door, Katara grabbed as much snow as she could and hurled it to block the entrence, before turning to push into the knee deep snow. It soaked into her clothes, even as she did her best to bend the snow away, and create a water barrier over their heads.

"We're going to die out here," one woman said, her eyes wide and already shivering.

"No," Katara said, as she saw the flicker of lights ahead of them, and heard a roar above. "We've already been saved."

Because Katara knew that roar. The one she had heard twice now. It was Appa, circling overhead. And there, in the distance, were firebenders.

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

[aroaceleovaldez]

yknow, I am amused that solangelo fanon was so tunnel-vision in like 2014 that in the midst of crawling through literally every time Will had popped up in the series prior, somehow the ONE singular instance of Will referencing something that the fandom did absolutely nothing with was the thing Rick then decided to draw out into being a major character trait for Will.

Like. Nico eats McDonalds once and it becomes a huge fanon thing, but Will references Star Trek and the fandom doesn't make a peep until Rick explicitly canonizes that he's a huge sci fi nerd. and Rick doesn't even keep it consistent! He changes it so Will is a Star Wars nerd instead of Star Trek. smh 😔 /lh

[cauldron-burn-and-fire-bubble]

trench and darling as ripper and mandrake (respectively) in dr. strangelove. because i can. reference under cut

[n4rval]

FUN VALUE 62: The Eccentric Genius

Isn't it odd how firsts are seconds? As in, should we consider the order of exposure by FUN value or follower number? Though I suppose goners are not meant to be linear at all. This is why all of the Followers reiterate that central piece of the story, yet, each of them offer an unique perspective that helps us piece together not only Dr. W.D. Gaster's current condition, but who he is as a character.

No, there is no typical way to look at a character who defies the very notion of a written script. To be atypical among the already strange, to fit right in yet feel so obviously alien, the sole lump of hard coal among shiny gems.

It makes sense why ASGORE took so long to hire a new Royal Scientist.

After all, the old one... Dr. Gaster. What an act to follow!

They say he created the CORE.

Coal that burns the most effectively and brings light to all around him, in more ways than one. Impossible only until someone steps forward and makes it possible, to pursue the most absurd of ideas and be stared at with either unease or awe, to make it an act to follow.

From the occasional inconvenient property damage, the unecessarily bulky gadget that looks like it came straight out of a cartoon ...

... to the grand opening speech nobody got a single word of but applauded for the flashy lights anyway.

However, his life... Was cut short.

One day, he fell into his creation, and...

Will Alphys end up the same way?

This bit can be particularly misleading at first glance, alluding to the idea of an accident or, possibly, a suicide of sorts. We already know how this bit played out, however, the mention of either instance is purposeful in a way the ideas complement each other.

To be special is to be strange, and loneliness is often the price of brilliance. It can be difficult to escape feelings of alienation when people seem to get along so naturally without having to make a conscious effort to understand and be understood. This parallel with Alphys isn't only due to their shared position, but the taxing demand for excellence that comes with it in exchange for belonging.

It wouldn't be a absurd to speculate that, possibly, Alphys would one day have a manic episode that would both be her greatest stunt and her last breath in this earth. Ah, but this is where they deviate, isn't it?

Beloved Dr. Wacky Dingus, too in love with life to leave it, yet never satisfied not to risk it - who continues to offer mystery and wonder, once through light, now through dark.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

”we need more morally ambiguous characters!”

you guys can’t even handle gon freeccs