#❰ ❝Q Are Going To Regret This.❞ × Q. ❱

[xincountry]

just saying sometimes i'll go about my day like a normal person and then remember "If there's something you need to tell him, do it while you have a chance. In this place, you never know if you'll see someone again." (s2e7 additional time)

i think what affects me the most is that it's framed like chigiri genuinely had something he wasn't able to tell kunigami post 2nd selection. the way back then chigiri had, with complete confidence, turned his back on kunigami/reo (and i phrase it like this but i don't mean it negatively: just that the panel of that scene in episode nagi we see it from reo/kunigami pov where they never see chigiri's determined expression as he moves to join isagi's team) to move on with a promise to beat isagi. "don't forget. we still haven't beaten isagi yet. i'll be feeling the same frustration as you while i wait for you, hero." among many other moments they share together, this is evidence of the deep trust chigiri has placed in kunigami, the confidence that he'll make it. he has to.

and naturally comes the upset when the person who walks through the door is shidou and not kunigami. the cold reality of this place. again, about what chigiri said in the s2e7 additional time, we kind of see a similar vein of regret during the 2 week break after the u20 match when they meet up with all the bluelockians and when asked who else was contacted for the meetup chigiri offhandedly mentions "and i don't know kunigami's contact" "wish i could've called him". that wish is so important. i think it just really shows how meaningful the connection he had with kunigami is—was—that even outside of bllk even knowing he was eliminated chigiri's making a conscious effort to mention him. like that. that even if he's the one who said they had to move on he cannot help but remember. agh.

[quackurucho]

gifs because i hate them

[rutadales]

OUGH FUCK cdream and foolish helped build their own cages dream designed the prison he knew every mechanic he drew those blue prints and foolish built and designed so much and worked so hard for a man that had him murdered. Sam and Quackity are so intrinsically involved in the worst time of both dream and Foolish's lives. something something quackity trains the dogs and sam builds the kennels

[kwontaeil]

sentado sobre un caballo del carrusel, ladea la mirada hacia otra persona que puede que reconozca, o no. le daba igual. ' ¿sabes manejar? en mis tiempos no existían los automóviles ' al menos no en corea. ' siento que sirvo más de passenger princess ' lo cierto es que sí sabe manejar, pero no mucho. no lo suficiente como para confiar del todo en sus habilidades. ' o de conductor de caballos de carrusel... '

[yourbuerokrat2]

Q: I know that you are angry at me right now, Picard. But I want you to know that no matter how mad you are right now, in a couple of hundred years you will have understood why I did what I did.

[the-down-upside-finch]

Guess who finally slapped together a generic-looking cover for my experimental to-be novel--

It'll be updating randomly over on my Wattpad for anyone that wants to check it out!

Here's the synopsis:

Celain is a third-year university student that's just trying to graduate… and have a "real college experience" while she's there. The problem? Most of the so-called experiences on the bucket list are things that she'd rather avoid participating in, at all costs. Who said football games were part of a REAL college experience? But after a peculiar encounter with a fellow student, things get a bit more complicated than a simple list of to-do's.

This is gonna be a little different than my usual writing, since I'm going to be tackling some difficult themes very head-on. (Rest assured, the characters are more or less the same spread that I like to write, if you've seen any of my other works.)

EDIT: I forgot to mention that the reason this is marked as mature on Wattpad is almost solely because of the strong language. I'm SR ace, so take that how you will.

Uhhhh I'm not really sure how else to promote this except by saying that there is a lot of neurodivergent and queerplatonic representation, among other things.

So... Yeah! Here's to a new writing adventure! I'll even throw some some rough character concepts below the cut:

I think it would be fun to turn this story into a comic someday, but for now I'm just writing it out.

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Bf, walking around with me at night: Oh look! The stars are coming out! Me: Good for them, speak your truth!

[fireflies-grace]

Honestly am brought up a good point. Suffice to say, if Lumiére EVER saw Vi, and heard of what she had became it would. Heavy.

[makkir0ll]

"you have really long eyelashes"

it catches him off guard. you guys are just laying in your bed scrolling on your own phones. he didn't even feel you staring at him. how long have you been looking?

"thanks?" he replies

"no i mean seriously like drop the lash serum." you joke at him as you continue to observe him.

they're long and thick. the kind of lashes that have a natural curl, unlike yours, that fall straight down and take several minutes to curl to your perfect liking. not to mention the layers of mascara you apply to get them to even remotely look like his.

he turns his head to you and you don't miss his dilated pupils as his eyes bore into yours. you take note of how the lashes perfectly frame his eyes. and you're so jealous.

but then an idea pops into your head, you smile to yourself and he senses it coming.

"can i-"

"no" he cuts you off.

"babe please you don't even know what i was about to say!" you grab onto his shoulder as you plead.

"whatever it is im sure it's going to be bad." he retorts, turning his face away from you and going back on his phone.

"i'll buy you you're favorite food."

and that's how you end up here on his lap with your mascara in your hand. his hair is pushed back as his hands rest on your hips, drawing small circles as he awaits your actions.

you open the bottle with the black liquid and bring the wand close to his eyes. "don't move" you whisper and he listens. mainly because he's scared that you're going to poke his eye out as you bring the wand to the base of his eyelashes and wiggle it slowly before moving it up to coat the length of the lashes. some of the mascara gets on his eyelids. you repeat the actions on the other eye before going back and doing a second coat. you can tell that he might be slightly nervous that you're going to blind him with the way he holds his breath and the grip he has on your hips get ever so slightly tighter.

you move yourself off his lap and he goes to grab his phone so he can see what he looks like.

"wait no not yet, i'm still not done" you say as you go and grab ur q-tips and micellar water.

"still?"

"yes still, i need to clean up the mascara on your eyelids," you say as you place yourself back on his lap. you open the bottle of micellar water and carefully put the clear liquid on the q-tip. you bring the white stick of cotton to his eyes and you tell him to close them. he feels the wet cotton and it's a weird feeling. you watch the q-tip turn darker the more mascara you wipe off.

"okay i'm done!" you say and he opens his eyes and you don't think he's ever looked more majestic. his already long lashes looking even longer and bolder now that he has the mascara to bring them out. you notice that the color of his eyes pop more. "you look so pretty" you smile as lean in to pepper kisses along his face. his cheeks feel warm and he can already tell that they're probably red.

he reaches over to his phone and opens the camera app and switches the camera so he can see himself. and he immediatly notices the stark difference in his eyes with the mascara. he brings his fingers to his lashes to touch them. it feels weird and his eyes kind of feel weighed down. but he has no regrets when he sees you smiling at him so fondly.

"they look nice." he smiles at you, dropping his phone to the side.

"i know right, ugh im so jealous i wish i had your lashes. all my problems would be solved." you say, thinking about the long and excruciating lash routine you perform every morning.

"all of them?"

"yes, all of them."

he chuckles at your words. "alright, but can you take it off now, it feels weird." he says, hands coming to touch his lashes again. you pout as you grab the micellar water you put away and a cotton pad and remove the mascara from his eyelashes, being gentle so that he doesn't lose a few. he appreciates the action. and maybe he would let you put more than just mascara on his face another day.

KAGEYAMA (has the best lashes argue with the wall), suna, tsukishima (genuinely terrified that you're going to make him go blind), OSAMU, kuroo, MATSUKAWA MY LOVE, iwaizumi, OIKAWA (he would eat that shit up), akaashi, kenma, +ur fav.

[dorothylarouge]

US Presidents as Dril Tweets

George Washington: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it

John Adams: "ah boo hoo hoo i want to post Foul comments to content leaders" Fat Chance, Dimwit. I will annihilate you under bulwark of the Law and God.

Thomas Jefferson: Q: If your post was proven by a counsil of wise men to be racist, or bullshit, would you bar it from the record? A: I do not delete my posts

James Madison: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby

James Monroe: for decades i have traversed the unforgiving mountains and rivers of south america, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled "ass downloader"

John Quincy Adams: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn my uncle's barbeque grill and turn the 4th of July into the 4th of Shit

Andrew Jackson: handing Faves over to my enemies is FRAUD !! base, contemptible FRAUD!

Martin Van Buren: Food $200

Data $150

Rent $800

Candles $3,600

Utility $150

someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. my family is dying

William Henry Harrison: (spends all of 7 seconds skimming some blog posts) yep. just as i knew all along. having pnuamonia is good

John Tyler: fuck "jokes". everything i tweet is real. raw insight without the horse shit. no, i will NOT follow trolls. twitter dot com. i live for this

James K. Polk: thhere is no such thing as charisma, and art is fake. the only metrics by which we must determine the worth of a man are Strength and Wisdom

Zachary Taylor: the doctor reveals my blood pressure is 420 over 69. i hoot & holler outta the building while a bunch of losers tell me that im dying

Millard Fillmore: trying to heal..... please donate to my go fund me... $10 will make me less racist... $100 will make me extremely less racist...thank you...

Franklin Pierce: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked. none of you are free of sin

James Buchanan: #NationalGirlfriendDay please cherish your gal's.. in honor of us, the single Boys who must sacrifice all companionship to #CarryTheBrand...

Abraham Lincoln: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you "Blocked"

Andrew Johnson: who the fuck is scraeming "LOG OFF" at my house. show yourself, coward. i will never log off

Ulysses S. Grant: i regret being tasked the emotional burden of maintaining the final bastion of morality and Nice manners in this endless ocean of human SHIT

Rutherford B. Hayes: using the toilet when i hear Our national anthem start to play. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg,

James A. Garfield: too much truth in such little time. feeling the heat cominh down to silence me... signing off........ for now

Chester A. Arthur: i WILL wise the fuck up. i WILL super charge my content for 2017. i WILL get blue check mark

Grover Cleveland: the way i see it, people who come on here and submit content that is not up to par, could possibly be considered the "Villains" of this site

Benjamin Harrison: i help every body, im not racist, i keep myself nice, and when i ask for a single re-tweet in return i am told to fuck off, fuck myself, etc

William McKinley: boy oh boy do i love purchasing large amounnts of Fool's Gold. wait a minute... fools gold fucking sucks. this stuff is no good..!! Fuck !!!

Theodore Roosevelt: IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL

William H. Taft: ah.. the perfect Souffle! cant wait to dig in to t(*EVERY PIPE IN MY HOUSE EXPLODES AT THE SAME TIME, COVERING ME IN SHIT AND BOILING WATER*

Woodrow Wilson: the conflicted supersoldier stares over the horizon as he smokes a cigarette. "war is the most fucked up thing ever." he takes a sip of beer

Warren G. Harding: somebody please Bribe me

Calvin Coolidge: aggressively joyless oaf hhere. painfully obnoxious respect demander checkign in. extremely dim witted frowning man looking for pals

Herbert Hoover: it is really quite astonishing that I have yet to win The Lottery, given how good I am at selecting six numbers and saying them out loud

Franklin D. Roosevelt: ive never heard of this “europe” but it sounds like a big bunch of shit to me

Harry Truman: everybody wants to be the guy to write the tweet that solves racism once and for all because it would look good as hell on a resume

Dwight D. Eisenhower: my "F*&k It!! Let's Go Golfin" t-shirt maintains a tenacious stranglehold on my life. after 1,125 days of Golf my body is twisted, deformed

John F. Kennedy: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self

Lyndon B. Johnson: incredibly handsome , charismatic famous boy credited with ending income inequality after saying that slumlords should be called "dumblords"

Richard Nixon: i attribute the complete failure of my brand to the actions of detractors, oor my “trolls���, as it were, as well as my own constant fuckups

Gerald Ford: shutting computer down until the shitty moods & attitudes can fuck off., if you need me ill be on my other computer, sititng 60° to my right

Jimmy Carter: i warnned you all that bad things would happen if you kept letting your wives wear jeans. AND NOW LOOK! the damn gas prices are up again

Ronald Reagan: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn

George H.W. Bush: just thought off an idea i believe to be bad ass. lets find the address of the leader of isis, and mail him/ her pieces of our SHIT

Bill Clinton: were at the point now, that when i offer to impregnate my girl followers, people assume my motives are sexual. disgusting, grow the fuck up,

George W. Bush: friday night gathering up together a big pile of things i like to respect (flags, crucifixes ,etc) and just roll around in it ,give kisses,

Barack Obama: my IQ has increased 10 points ever since i stopped tollerating people mucking about, on the time line

Donald Trump: THERAPIST: your problem is, that youre perfect, and everyone is jealous of your good posts, and that makes you rightfully upset.

ME: I agree

Joe Biden: I will shut the fuck up , IF , it will restore the Harmony. I will get on my knees like a dog and make that sacrifice, for the sake of Calm

[chaoticwriting]

Gotham's New Rouge 5

Part 4

-Watchtower-

The Justice League is having their weekly meeting today and as always, Batman is reading the reports for global events that the others already read but Batman says that he is sure some of them Barry and Hal don't.

So here they are, bored out of their minds when suddenly, an alarm went off. Not the 'Oh no the apocalypse is happening' alarm. More like ' Oh no something big is happening' alarm.

Cyborg clicks some buttons on his arm and a hologram appears on the table. The hologram shows a livestream with a kid wearing a half mask that has a big red creepy smile on it plus his weirdly glowing green eyes. Both Barry and Hal shudder when they see the eyes of the kid. Suddenly, the kid starts to laugh while greetthe viewers.

Trickster: Hello, everyone! Today, I have a very special livestream. I am doing an interview!

The kid turns the camera into a view of 2 men in white suits being hung from the ceiling staring intensely at the kid.

Trickster: Presenting our guests for today. Would you like to introduce yourselves?

Agent P: Fuck you! You ghost scum. Just you wait until I get out of these restraints.

Agent Q: Release me you bastard! You wouldn't get away with this!

Trickster: Oh yikes. Our guests today are quite violent aren't they? Anyway, let me introduce them. Over here are Agent P and Agent Q or Simon Hawk and Larry Rose. They are members of the now infamous Ghost Investigation Ward, a secret government branch that focuses on "researching" and "developing" weapons against ghosts.

Agent Q: We develop them to fight against scum like you. You evil scheming bastard.

Trickster: Now, that we talk about it. Here is their research conclusion. *Pulls out a stack of paper* *Takes out a pair of glasses and wears them* Ehem Ehem. Ghost or ecto entities are defined as creatures that are made of or heavily contaminated by ectoplasm. Ecto entities are non sentient nor sapient. They take on the form of our loved one to deceive us and kill us. They are evil and must be destroyed.

After Trickster finishes reading the document out loud, he takes off the glasses and puts down the document.

Trickster: Anyway, I'm pretty sure I am sapient and sentient because I have been thinking real hard on what is the next prank is going to be. And I'm also pretty sure that I am not a ghost, at least not fully since I don't know who I am supposed to impersonate except myself.

Agent P: Shut up! We all know that you ghost scum all tell lies. Deception is in your nature from the moment you are born.

Trickster: Racist much? Heh, if I am capable of lies then, I am sentient and sapient but if I am not sentient nor sapient, I shouldn't be able to lie. Make it make sense people.

Agent P: You liar! I've seen what your kind has done before this. That Phantom scum is lucky we didn't catch him or else we would have cut him open and torture him to death.

Suddenly, Trickster stalls at the words. The viewers can see frost starts to form around the room as ice slowly crept up the two agents' legs. An alarm suddenly turns on and Trickster suddenly wakes up from his budding rage.

Trickster: Well well well. It seems we have visitors. Off you go.

Picking up the two agents, Trickster throws them into a portal that he opens as Nightwing and Batman appears on the scene.

Batman: Where did you take them?

Trickster: Sorry, but I ain't gonna tell you. I have a special game for this type of person.

Nightwing: Wait! Trickster, I know you are a good kid. We can talk about it. You can still stop before you do something you might regret.

Trickster: You know, Nightwing. I used to have so much mercy. I let them live. Time and time again. No matter what they did. I forgave them. I let them go. I believe in the preciousness of human lives. But I am not 14 anymore. I can't stay positive and expect them to one day turn to the good side. Not when they don't learn anything from their wrong doing. And I will teach them that every action has consequences.

Nightwing: Wait!

Batman throws a batarang at Trickster but he easily blocks it with a wall of ice. Nightwing tries to rush after Trickster but the portal has already closed before he manages to catch up to Trickster.

The two of them stare in silence as the only thing left of Trickster is the camera that he used to livestream.

Part 6

[too-much-tma-stuff]

I don't trust the world with you

I wrote this on my phone while I was at work so there's probably a ton of errors. It's not a particularly original piece, my take on deep cover Danny working for Red Hood and offering Jason the chance to take out his rage on Danny.

Viewer advisory: Mentions of sex but no descriptions, descriptions of violence.

----

Red Hood was furious, he was furious and there was fuck all he could do about it! He had been on a hunt when the piece of shit had decided he'd rather take his own life them give Jason the pleasure, leaving the pit madness swirling in his guts with no release. He wanted Blood, he wanted screams, he hated it and he had no other prospects. And no matter how much of a villain he was he wasn't going to take this out on anyone who didn't deserve it, including or especially the people who worked for him.

Best he could do right now was lock himself in his office and pace, snarling furiously and making aborted little motions with his hands as he held himself back from breaking anything.

"Wow boss, you're really pissed aren't you?" A familiar voice said conversationally. Before Red Hood processed he had drawn his gun and had it leveled at Fox, who did not flinch, grinning at him with his unusually sharp teeth.

Fox had worked for Red Hood for longer then just about anyone, Hood had picked him up half on a whim. With his green-blue eyes and his hair, black on top and white underneath it was like looking in a mirror, a younger version of himself. Fox was good, strong for his size and resourceful, with his filed teeth and odd demeanor he must have had a History but he never spoke about it.

"Fox! How did you get in here?! Get out," Jason demanded in a snarl.

Fox didn't move for a moment, then he stepped forward, his eyes calm and resolute and a small.smile still on his face. "It's okay. There's more to do and you're useless like this. You need to hit something? Hurt something, hit me." He said calmly and Hood balked.

"No! You've seen me-"

Fox had seen Hood at his worst, he knew how violent Hood could be, how could he offer-? But then Fox darted forward and grabbed q knife from Hoods belt. Hood tensed, ready to defend himself but then Fox turned towards Jason's desk, slammed his hand down on the wood and then stabbed the blade through his own hand.

Jason gave a startled yelp but Fox didn't make a sound, his teeth gritted as he pulled the knife out. He turned back towards Hood, holding out his bleeding hand only for it to heal in moment under Jason's shocked gaze. Fox smiled at him and offered the knife, handle first, back to Hood who took it on autopilot.

"No matter what you do to me I'll heal, and it won't be the worst pain I've been through. So, Boss," he said hopping up on the desk and sitting there staring at Jason daringly. "Hurt me."

It was a mad impulse that had Jason driving the knife down into Fox's leg. Fox arched and let out a pained little whine that soothed the beast in Jason even as he froze with shock and regret. He pulled out the knife, leaving Fox breathing heavily. When Hood tried to pull back Fox grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him back.

"I know you're not done, that's not enough for you. Keep going." He nearly snarled, his eyes more green then usual.

He wasn't wrong but Jason didn't want to hurt him, but being handed handled like that triggered Jason's fight reflex again. He cut Fox's arm making him yelp, but not let go. Jason pressed the knife into Fox's shoulder until he let go.

The smell of blood was filling his nose and his vision was tinged green around the edges. Fox collapsed back against the desk and Jason cut the young man's stomach with barely enough presence of mind to not go to deep. Each cut drew small sounds of pain from Fox but none loud enough to be heard from outside Jason’s office and all healed in moments leaving only a bit of blood on Fox's clothes and Jason's knife.

Finally the green retreated from Jason's vision and Fox was no longer just flesh capable of feeling and bleeding and became his loyal employee again. Sprawled on the desk, clothes and hair mussed, eyes half lidded and breathing heavily. He looked beautiful, and under different circumstances it would have been so... erotic, but now Jason just felt like a complete monster.

"Fox, I'm so sorry," Hood practically groaned, offering Fox his hand. Fox took it but didn't get up yet. "I'm so sorry, I should have,"

"No," Fox murmured giving Hood a small reassuring smile. "I told you to. You feel better don't you?"

Jason froze, because yes he did. "Is there anything I can do to... help?"

"Kiss it better," Fox said with a crooked little smile, he seemed almost high. Jason choked and Fox laughed. "No, just stay, hold me if you don't mind. I'll be fine in a minute."

Jason nodded and pulled Fox into his arms, holding him, hesitating for a moment before combing his fingers through Fox's hair. They were quiet as Fox's breath evened out again.

"I didn't know you were a meta," Jason murmured and Fox twitched, tensing for q moment and then relaxing again.

"I was trafficked when I was pretty young, I've kept it on the down low as much as I can since then. I don't want anyone to know, but I trust you Boss," Fox said giving him a little smile. Oh man that sweet trust made his heart flutter in a way he really Shouldn't be feeling for a man he's just basically tortured.

"I won't tell anyone, and I won't take advantage of it." Jason promised softly, Fox was a good worker and Jason wasn't going to lose him.

"Alright," Fox said, giving him another smile and pushing himself back. "But if this happens again and you need to hurt someone, call me okay? I make a good punching bag," he said with a bitter little curl to his lips.

"I'm... really not sure I want to do that," Jason said worriedly and Fox shrugged.

"Alright then I'll just break in here again next time. Now get back to work Boss," he joked as he walked over to the door and unlocked it to leave.

"Wait if it was still locked how did you get in here?!" Hood demanded suddenly.

"Byeee," Fox cackled as he dashed out the door leaving Jason confused, but not as upset as he would have been had it been anyone else who'd managed that. Fox could probably be trusted with keys at this point, even if he apparently didn't need them.

--------

Jason managed to control himself properly for another month but then things went wrong again. Not another misplaced hunt but a confrontation with Bruce about how Everyone deserves to live and other bullshit! It had him furious with no easy outlet and pacing in his office again. He has passed Fox on his way here, hesitated, then continued. He would Not ask.

He didn't need to, it was less then ten minutes before he turned again and Fox was there. He was sympathetic and worried, last time he'd been there for the last time, this time he didn't know why Red Hood was angry, though that didn't stop him from approaching, he kept his posture low, submissive but unafraid and for some reason Jason completely Hated it.

He grabbed Fox by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall forcing his breath out in a wheeze. Fox covered Hoods closed hands with his own, staring back at him with a serious expression.

"Stop this! You're worth more then being a punching bag, I don't care if you've been through worse it doesn't make it okay for me to hurt you," he snarled in Fox's face practically lifting him off the ground.

"That's sweet, Boss," Fox wheezed, unable to breath properly with Jason bearing down on him. "But you need this, and I'm not leaving till your calm. If you think you can calm down by talking about your feelings we can go with that," he said with a sharp and crooked smile. He knew Hood well enough to know that wasn't enough.

"You self sacrificing piece of shit," Jason nearly yelled, pulling Fox forward and slamming him against the wall again before punching Fox in the face. Fox let him, barely flinched away and didn't fight back as Jason hit him. Bruises bloomed and faded on Fox's skin almost instantly and the stupid man didn't even shield his face. His nose crunched and his head snapped back against the wall, he let out a slight gurgle, the blood on gloves and Jason recoiled in shock at his own actions.

He let go and Fox slid down the wall till he was sitting, he set his nose with a grimace and shook his head. He held up his hand and coughed up a bit of blood that must have flown down the back of his throat. "You done Boss?" He asked with another soft cough.

One lost flare of anger shot through Jason and he kicked Fox in the side making him yelp and fall back against the wall again. "Okay, now I'm done," Jason sighed, slumping back against the wall and sliding down to sit next to Fox who was looking at him a little warily now, even as he leaned closer. Jason sighed and lifted his arm, hating himself and loving it as Fox brightened and ducked under his arm, leaning against his chest.

"What upset you?" Fox asked softly.

Jason twitched he knew Fox meant well so, after a moment, he answered. "It's a long story, but the short version is family bullshit. Something really bad happened to me a few years ago, and my dad just... let it happen, didn't avenge me, nothing. He's still dragging his feet and acting like I'm a villain for wanting some justice," he sighed, moving like he was going to run a hand through his hair only to remember he was still wearing his helmet.

"I get that, it's part of the reason I never went back to my family after everything that had happened to me," Fox agreed softly.

"You know I go after traffickers all the time. If the people who hurt you are still out there..." he trailed off, the suggestion hanging in the air.

"Trust me," Fox said with a humorless laugh, "that's not something you can help me with."

"If you can trust me with it, I'd like to help you," Jason said, brushing Fox's bangs out of his face.

"I trust you with everything Hood, but I don't trust the world at all, not with me, or with you really. But... my real name is Danny, I left it behind a long time ago, but that's my name." Fox, no Danny, said softly. Proof of his trust.

"Thanks Danny, just between us huh?" Jason agreed, wishing he could trust Danny with his name in turn, but he wasn’t rest to.

"It feels good to be called that again," Danny murmured nuzzling into Jason's armored chest as if there was no where else he'd rather be.

---------

Danny just kept coming back, and Jason shouldn't have been shocked when the fifth time ended in them fucking. It was a much more pleasant way to work out Jason's anger and after that he was much more willing to call Danny for help. Even to meet Jason at one of his safe houses, this time wearing a domino mask instead of his full helmet.

When Danny arrived at the safe house he immediately kicked off his shoes and darted into Jason's arms, looking up at him with wide eyes. "We match," he said with a grin, tugging on the little lock of white hair in Jason's bangs. Jason laughed and nodded, tugging Danny towards the bedroom.

"Yep, it was one of the first things I noticed about you. It made me wonder if..." he trailed off.

"If," Danny prompted softly.

"Easier to talk about after, once I'm calm," Jason said, shoving Danny down on the bed. Thankfully Danny liked it rough, or it probably wouldn’t have worked.

A couple hours later they lay in bed together, Danny absently tracing a few of the scars on Jason’s chest. Danny still had his shirt on and Jason hadn't argued, if Jason was keeping his mask on Danny could keep his shirt on. "So, it made you wonder if...?" Danny prompted and Jason winced, he sort of hoped Danny would forget.

"It made me wonder if you died too," Jason said softly and nearly jumped at the way Danny flinched and then gave a nearly full body shudder. He sat up and stared down at Jason with wide eyes.

"I did," Danny said softly and Jason froze.

"What?" He croaked softly.

"I did, I died when I was 14. I was electrocuted," he pulled up one sleeve of his shirt to show the branching scar.

"I was 15, got murdered," Jason said, feeling a familiar burning pain, he wondered if Danny felt it to.

Danny shuddered and lay down against Jason's chest again. "I thought you might be like me too, I felt it when we first met, but the way you act and... some other stuff, I sort of talked myself out of it." Danny said and Jason nodded.

They were quiet for a long time, but there was tension in Danny's back that said he wasn't done. "It wasn't actually traffickers that hurt me," Danny said softly. "It was the government. A branch called the Ghost Investigation Ward, a exception was carved out of the meta protection act for people like me, like us. The government wanted to find out how I came back, how powerful I was, everything. They did a lot of awful shit.

"I destroyed that base when I escaped but I know there could have been more so I ran. Changed my name with every new town and never stayed anywhere more then a few months, until I met you." He looked up at Jason with such utter trust and adoration Jason's breath caught in his throat.

"You made me feel safe, and wanted. I always wanted to help people and you gave me a way I could and still be safe, and keep you safe in case you were like me. I don't have much of a life, still hiding like this, but I have more of one then I thought I would and Red Hood, you know I'd do anything for you right?"

"You've proved that many times over," Jason murmured caressing Danny's jaw. "And it's Jason, my name is Jason."

"Jason," Danny murmured reverently.

"So, how does dismantling a government organization as a first proper date," Jason asked and Danny laughed. It wasn’t bitter, or dry, it was a true, loud, joyful laugh and it was the most beautiful thing Jason has ever heard.

Part 2

Masterpost

[l4ndonorizz]

q&a stream gets personal / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: odesza - bloom

summary: a playful Q&A stream takes a surprising turn when hidden feelings are revealed

wc: 1k

The camera flicked on, and Lando grinned widely as he adjusted the mic. “Alright, welcome back, everyone! Today’s stream is going to be a little different, but it should be fun. We’re doing a Q&A, but with a twist.”

You smiled, sitting next to him, already feeling the excitement building. “We’ve each prepared questions for the other,” you explained, waving your phone in front of the camera. “No holds barred.”

Lando laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, I’m already regretting agreeing to this.”

The chat was buzzing with excitement, full of messages about how chaotic this was going to get. The fans had been asking for a Q&A for a while, and you and Lando decided to take it up a notch by asking each other anything—no warnings.

“Okay,” you said, glancing at your list. “I’ll start with something light. Lando, what’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you on stream?”

Lando groaned, shaking his head as the memory resurfaced. “Oh, come on! We’re really starting with that?”

You grinned. “Yep. Spill.”

He sighed, giving in. “Alright, during a charity stream, I was mid-race, everything was going well, and I decided to take a drink of water. But I completely missed my mouth and ended up pouring water all over myself and my setup. It was a mess.”

You burst out laughing. “How do you even miss your mouth?”

“Talent,” Lando replied dryly, making the chat explode with laughing emojis. “It was bad. I had to stop the stream to clean up the disaster.”

Shaking your head, you scrolled through your next question. “Okay, your turn.”

Lando scrolled through his phone, his eyes lighting up as he found a good one. “Alright, if you had to get a tattoo of my face somewhere, where would it be?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, easy. On the bottom of my foot, so no one ever sees it.”

Lando gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Wow, okay. I’m hurt. I thought you’d want my face somewhere more… visible.”

“I love you, but not that much,” you teased, earning more laughter from the chat.

Lando leaned closer to the camera. “Can you believe this? I thought we had something special.”

“You wish,” you replied with a smirk.

The teasing continued as you both threw more light-hearted questions at each other.

“Okay, my turn,” you said, scanning your list. “What’s one of your worst habits?”

Lando didn’t hesitate. “That’s easy. Leaving my shoes everywhere. I know it drives you crazy.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s not just me. You trip over your own shoes sometimes.”

“Fair point,” Lando chuckled. “But hey, I’m working on it.”

“Sure, you are,” you teased.

The chat was loving the playful banter, with fans sending heart emojis and laughing at your back-and-forth. Lando glanced at his phone again, his smile widening.

“If you had to survive on a desert island with me, what role do you think I’d play?”

You snorted. “The one who makes things worse. You’d try to build a racing simulator out of coconuts or something.”

The chat exploded with laughter, and Lando pretended to be offended. “I’m telling you, that would be an amazing simulator.”

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, grinning. “Meanwhile, I’d be building an actual shelter.”

Lando laughed. “Okay, fair. I’d handle the coconuts.”

The questions continued, gradually becoming more personal. But when Lando scrolled to his last question, the mood shifted slightly.

“Alright,” Lando said, his tone softening. “Here’s one that’s a bit more serious. What’s the one thing in life that you regret the most?”

You froze for a second, not expecting such a heavy question. The chat slowed down, realizing the conversation was about to take a deeper turn.

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment. “I guess… I regret not being good at expressing how I feel. I tend to hold back, and I regret that sometimes.”

Lando’s brow furrowed in curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

You took a deep breath, glancing at the camera before looking back at Lando. The chat was buzzing, but all the playful emojis were gone. It was just an audience waiting to see where this would go.

“I’ve never been good at telling people what I really feel. I keep things to myself because I’m scared of what might happen if I put it all out there.”

Lando leaned in closer, his playful demeanor fading. “What are you scared of?”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment. The chat, the stream, everything else disappeared as you stared at Lando, realizing this was the moment you’d been avoiding.

“I’m scared of ruining things,” you said softly. “Of saying something that could change everything.”

Lando’s expression softened. “What could you say that would ruin things?”

Your heart raced. You knew what you had to say, but once you said it, there was no going back.

“I… I have feelings for you,” you finally admitted, your voice shaky but firm. “And I’ve had them for a while.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard, but his face softened even more. “You… have feelings for me?”

You nodded, feeling both relieved and terrified. “Yeah. I didn’t want to mess up our friendship.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The chat had slowed to a crawl. Finally, Lando broke the silence, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ve had feelings for you too,” he confessed. “I just didn’t know if you felt the same way.”

You stared at him, shocked. “You do?”

Lando nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah. I thought about telling you, but I didn’t want to risk losing what we have.”

A nervous laugh escaped your lips. “Guess we’re both pretty bad at this.”

Lando chuckled, reaching over to gently take your hand. “Yeah, but maybe we don’t have to be anymore.”

Your heart soared at his words, and before you could say anything, Lando leaned in, his eyes locking with yours. The world slowed as his lips brushed against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

The chat exploded with heart emojis, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the feeling of Lando’s lips against yours.

When you pulled away, both of you were smiling.

“Well,” Lando said, grinning at the camera, “I guess we just made this stream a lot more interesting.”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

The chat continued to explode, but for now, you were just happy to be here, with Lando, knowing that you’d finally said what needed to be said.

[froggiewrites]

Bloody Hands

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're struggling with horrible period cramps, and luckily, Law has the perfect solution. Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Period Sex, Fluff Word Count: 2.1k Notes: Did I write this in one sitting instead of just taking ibuprofen for my cramps like a normal person? Maybe. Anyway, this is my first time writing for Law, so I hope I did him justice!

This is going to kill you.

You say that every month, of course, but you really, truly mean it this time. You’re practically immobilized, laying in the fetal position on your bed trying not to let out pitiful moans every time another wave of pain hits. You fail every time.

Several members of the crew had come to check on you, bringing offerings of heating pads, ibuprofen, and various other remedies, but they hardly helped. After the fifth visit (Penguin bringing you more water while anxiously checking you over), you couldn’t even thank your friends, only letting out a sad whimper to acknowledge their presence before once again squeezing your eyes tight and trying desperately to ground yourself.

Your captain had been noticeably absent from these visits, probably burying himself in work as he always does, and you’re torn between being grateful he hasn’t seen you in such a sorry state and hurt tearing through your chest that he didn’t care enough to check on you. You would have gone to him in a heartbeat if he was doing as poorly as you were. He wouldn’t want you to, of course, would lock his door and burrow so deeply into his bed he wouldn’t see a single speck of light until his illness had passed, but you would come anyway. You would at least try.

You regret the thought the moment you hear a familiar hum at the doorway. You should have known he would never leave you alone when you needed him. “I almost didn’t believe everyone when they said how bad it was.” You whine, and you hear a sympathetic chuckle. “I know.” The heels of his shoes click softly against the ground, and suddenly Law’s warm hand has slid under your shirt, warm and gentle as it rubs circles onto your upper back.

“Everything hurts.” You’re so lost in the pain you can't even bring yourself to hate how pathetic you sound. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzle into it, welcoming the affection gratefully.

“I know, sweetheart.” He doesn’t often call you pet names, and it makes your heart flutter when he does. Usually when you hear them it means you’re going to be taken care of, cherished in a more tender way than the quiet and understated (but no less wonderful) way he normally shows his love for you. His lips ghost over your forehead, and you finally open your eyes to see his own staring at you with undisguised concern, bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual. “Can you describe it to me? Is it just the cramps, or is there something else?”

“It’s just cramps. And a small headache, I guess.” Another wave crashes over you, and you pull yourself in even tighter. “They’re…they’re not normally this bad.”

“And the pain meds haven’t helped?”

“Not enough.”

“Hm.” You can see the exact moment he flips from lover to doctor, racking his brain for any knowledge he can use to help you, and the moment he finds his answer. The light flickers on behind his eyes, and he carefully looks over you, assessing the situation, before your lover is back, sly grin slowly creeping over his face and a quiet excitement makes its way into his voice. “I think I know something that could help. If you’re willing.”

“I would do anything for this to stop,” you whimper, and his amusement once again fades into fondness as his eyes soften with pity.

“I’ll do my best to help, sweetheart, I promise.” His lips brush against your forehead again before the bed shifts and his warmth has left you. You cry out, but he gently shushes you. “Just a minute. I’ll be right back, really.”

He probably is only gone for a minute, but it feels like hours. You don’t relax for even a second until you hear a quiet, “Shambles!” and find yourself in the familiar dim light of Law’s room. Your back is pressed against something rougher than his usual blankets, and you turn your head to see you’re laid out against a mismatched array of towels, clearly stolen from the shared bathroom the rest of the crew uses. His pair of towels are separated, one lying directly under your lower half while the other sits folded and ready at the end of the bed. Law is staring at you, unblinking, directly next to it.

“Hi.” Your voice is weaker than you want it to be, barely a whisper, but he slightly smiles when he hears it anyway.

“Hi.” He leans forward a bit, eyes flashing dangerously in the dim light, looking almost like a predator stalking his prey. It makes you tense despite yourself, causing another flash of pain in your abdomen. The vulnerable noise you make causes him to grin, showing just a bit of sharp canines through his parted lips. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“Your treatment, sweetheart.” He maintains eye contact with you as he slowly pulls latex gloves over his tattooed hands, covering the letters on his fingers. Once they’re fully on, he lets the material go, making a small thwap as it snaps against his skin. He repeats himself. “Are you ready?”

“Yes?”

“I need you to be sure.”

“Yes.” You repeat, more firmly this time.

“Excellent. I promise you’ll feel better soon.” With that, you can feel the cool latex against your skin as he slips off the loose pajama pants you were wearing in a single fluid motion. You then feel his hands against your thighs, forcing them apart and leaning forward. You let out a soft noise of surprise, and he gives you the same predatory smile as before before muttering, “Just relax.”

His gloved fingers slowly trace up your thighs, before he quickly removes your panties, depositing them somewhere nearby. He turns his attention back to you, fingers retracing their path, and you shiver as he runs a single finger down your slit. He lifts his hand closer to his face as though to inspect it, and you can see the blue latex becomes stained with blood. You can see his pupils dilate, black overtaking the normal steely grey of his eyes. You can’t tell if he’s fascinated or aroused. Probably both.

He allows his hand to find its rightful place again, slowly inserting his first finger into you. You gasp quietly, and he laughs under his breath. You feel yourself stretch around him as the slick of your blood makes it easy for him to slide himself knuckle deep into you. You let out a stuttering breath as you get used to the new sensation. Your pain hasn’t subsided, but this is certainly a good distraction.

“Everything alright?” His voice is low, thick with want, but he tries to maintain an even tone.

“Yeah,” you managed to squeak out. “I’m fine.”

“Only fine?” He lets out a displeased hum. “Next time I ask, I want you to be doing better than ‘fine’.”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” You regret the words the moment they come out of your mouth. As much as Law loves to pretend he is some even-keeled professional, he’s easily riled up by a challenge, and challenges relating to you are some of his favorites. “I mean–”

“I know what you meant. Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen.” With that, he begins pumping, keeping a steady slow pace that isn’t nearly enough for you, before suddenly adding a second finger. He curls them, hitting a sweet spot that makes you sing for him, and he gives you an absolutely shit eating grin. “Sounds like we’re already well on our way, hm?”

He speeds up slightly, his other hand leaving the plush of your thigh and finding your clit. The material feels strange against you, but that thought is quickly shoved out of your head as he slowly begins to rub small circles against it. You let out a whine of, “Law!”

“Yes?” His voice is dripping with smugness. You can do nothing but let out another small cry of his name, and you can see the way his chest slightly puffs out with pride at the sound. There is nothing in the world he loves more than making you come unraveled, and he loves any reminder of that, especially those that remind him that you’re his and that he is the one making you feel this way. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you. We’ll be there soon.” He adds a third finger, reveling in the way you clench around him. You see his eyelids drop slightly as he takes in the sight of you splayed out before him, blood and wetness covering his fingers as they pump in and out of you.

You finally, finally begin to feel something stronger than your pain as the coil in your stomach tightens, making every part of you begin to tense as you approach your precipice. Law leans over you, taking his eyes off of your cunt for the first time since he started  just so he can look you in the eyes and whisper, “Let go. I’ve got you.”

You gush around his fingers, crying out. He doesn’t look away from your face as your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, taking in every inch of your sweet expression. He works you through it, not removing his fingers until he knows for certain that you’ve ridden your high to the end, leaving you spent and relaxed against the towel below you. Once he slides his hands out of you, he quickly removes his gloves, dropping them into a nearby trash can. He grabs the towel at the end of the bed and uses it to wipe up any blood on your thighs, placing a gentle kiss to each thigh once he’s sure they’re clean.

“How are you doing?” His voice carries no challenge like earlier, only a genuine concern for you.

“I’m great.”

“No cramps?”

You close your eyes, taking in your current state. You feel a little sore, and there’s still a small pressure in your skull, but you realize your abdomen doesn’t hurt at all. “No cramps.” You can’t keep the pleased smile off of your face, and when you open your eyes you see his expression mirrors your own, if a touch more smug.

“Good.” He kisses your forehead before gently gathering you into his arms. You let out a soft noise of protest, but he pulls you into his chest anyway. “After a quick shower and some sleep I think your treatment will be over. …For now.”

“For now?”

“You’ll have to come see me if your cramps return, of course.” His eyes shine with a gentle mischief you don’t often get to see.

“Oh, of course, Dr. Trafalgar.” You expect him to roll his eyes at you, but he smirks further at you using his title. Interesting.

For now, he carries you into his personal bathroom, setting you down and beginning to fuss with the shower. Your eyes spy the empty towel rack, and you have a realization. “Law?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have any towels not covered in blood?”

“I–hm.” He leaves for a moment, returning with another clearly stolen towel. The crew is going to have a bad night once showertime rolls around, but you can’t bring yourself to care too much, still caught up in your sudden relaxation after your day of suffering. In the shower, Law pampers you thoroughly, refusing to let you lift a finger to do anything for yourself. His fingers are gentle as he washes your hair, your face, your body. He wraps you tenderly in a towel once all is done, even helping you dress once you’ve dried. He only stops pampering you once he’s tucked you tightly into his bed, heating pad and pain meds ready on his nightstand just in case. And in a very rare treat, instead of rushing off to work, he lays down next to you.

“You aren’t going to leave?” You can’t keep the tentative hope from your voice.

“Not until you’re asleep.” He pulls your head into his chest, and you happily make a home there.

“I’ll have to stay up to keep you here.” Even as you say it your eyes are drooping, and you can feel the rumble of his laugh.

“You can try.” He runs his fingers carefully through your hair.

You lose quickly, falling into an easy sleep, surrounded by warmth and care, and pain far away from your mind.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[seratopia]

miguel o'hara x reader (fluff) - intoxicated → she/her pronouns!

modern ceo au! what happens when miguel is drunk

It's extremely rare when Miguel goes out to drink with coworkers, it's rare enough when Miguel gets out to go anywhere in general. He's either cooped up in his office, glued to his work, or glued to you at home.

You suggested to Miguel earlier this week about getting out to a bar, along with a few of the other higher-ups of the company. It's healthy to get out, you said, even if all he's going to be doing is drinking alcohol and eating meat.

Miguel's only good with people in a more professional sense; he's not the best at being all buddy-buddy with people he usually works with. He's quiet the entire time he's at the bar, occasionally taking a bored nibble at a bowl of loaded fries.

He kind of regrets this; surrounded by loud music, loud people, TV's with sports games playing in the background. He just misses you, he wants to come home and make food with you.

One of his coworkers, nudged him in the side a bit, obviously gesturing towards the wide array of various drinks and juices.

"Might as well have a drink while you're at it." He says, and Miguel is just stone-faced the entire time. The man walks away towards the remaining group of coworkers, possibly to either go dance, or to stare at girls from afar.

Considerably, it's been a while since he's had a drink. One or two wouldn't hurt, especially as a last minute scrounge for enjoyment in this god-awful bar.

Slowly, Miguel nurses on a drink provided by a suspiciously sleek bartender, leaning his cheek into his palm whilst taking a couple sips. He can feel the wolfish eyes of various women & men staring at him, feeling somehow exposed in his tight white button-up and simple pants. If only you were here, to sit in his lap and run your little hands against his chest.

The thought makes his head spin, a violent hot warmth running up his cheeks, his mind being blurred like a smudge on someone's reading glasses. The room's almost tilting sideways, the thoughts in his head dissolving away. (miguelito is a lightweight because i say so)

Miguel's drunk, for the first time in literal years.

He doesn't like it; he feels out of control of his body, unable to think or function correctly. He feels like a different person entirely, his eyes replaced with jelly and the tips of his ears turning scarlet.

The drink tasted good and all, but Miguel's thoughts on you feel magnified, every feature, every action you do running through his head like a cassette tape. He misses you more, and he really wants to see you.

Cleverly, he pulls out his phone, sighing to himself on the counter. It takes him a moment to put in his phone password correctly, fingers drunkenly tapping on the screen until he can find your contact.

. . .

You receive a text notification at about 9:43. Expectedly, you knew Miguel probably wouldn't make it through the whole night, but you're proud of him for trying. You open up your phone, amidst watching a show in bed.

miguelito💞💓: My love, I am intoxicated.

The text makes you giggle a little, imagining him all red-faced and tripping over himself with his coworkers.

Conveniently, you receive another text, one from the person you asked to keep an eye on Miguel.

It's a picture of Miguel with his head leaned against the counter, lovingly zooming in on a picture of your face with his phone. His ears are red, and there's a half-drunken drink beside him.

james q: he says he misses you. want me to take him home? you: it's okay, thanks tho. i'll be there in 10 to get him. james q: 👍

Assuming Miguel's still on his phone, you shoot him a text.

you: i see u looking at me

You giggle to yourself, and Miguel is visibly both shocked and excited, peering left to right as if you were magically in the bar.

miguelito💞💓: Please pick me up. I hate it here. you: ok sweetie, be there in 10

. . .

Despite the hour, the bar is bustling as ever, populated with underage girls wearing slip dresses and drunk frat boys. You worm through the building, searching left and right for your husband through the cacophonous bar.

Finally, you spot him where the counter is, big head tucked into crossed arms.

Gently, you slip your hand onto his shoulder, warmly rubbing him awake. At first he flinches, staring at you as if you were a stranger. He relaxes a few seconds later, lovingly and drunkenly fixating on you.

"Hey hun, I'm here to take you home." You say, and Miguel feels so warm, so comforted in contrast to the rash environment of the pub. He wants to kiss you, but he's too drunk to focus.

Without a word, Miguel rises from his bar stool, arms and hands immediately inching around your shoulders. He doesn't realize it, but he's pressing more of his body weight onto you, leaning on top of you like a slug.

Seeing you roll away the finest, sexiest piece of man as if it were nothing makes the party around you fume, their thoughts of asking for a number shattered within a minute or two.

Miguel trails after you, gluing himself to your back as you maneuver yourself out of the stuffy bar. Finally, you're out in the cool air of the dark, muffled edm music booming from the block's other counterparts.

The sidewalk is somewhat barren, scattered with a few people smoking or walking.

"I missed you, s'much." Miguel slurs, seeing the outline of your car in the dark parking lot.

"I know you did, baby. Now you get to come home with me and we can do whatever you want, like we promised." You say, unlocking your car with the press of your key.

He smiles just a teensy bit, his heart warming at the thought of snuggling up to you in bed, or cooking a late-night meal of sorts with you while a show plays in the background.

Miguel's the passenger princess tonight, adjusting the seat backwards so he can actually sit. He stares at you the entire time through bleary eyes, watching you start the car as if it were the most artistic and most beautiful thing ever.

"I love you." Miguel says, and you can feel the gratuity in his voice.

"I love you too."

© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Someone: What level of self loathing are you at? Me: Apparently, my own body is allergic to itself so like.....high I guess.