#Bad Friends

[tac-the-unseen]

Jeepers Creepers x Reader

Fluff and angst, minor edits for formatting.

CW: Car crash, blood, Gore, ambulance, broken glass, bad friends :(

It purred at you.

It fucking purred at you.

Days ago, while on a long road trip with your close friends, you made a stop at a diner. It was just supposed to be a quick pit stop to get gas and a quick meal at around 4:30 pm.

You remember getting a salad because you weren't as hungry. You remember your best friend Sammy ordering the most food out of everyone in the group. You remember splitting the bill anyway because Sammy has been your dearest friend for years.

Then there was a phone ringing. It was across the room, just barely tucked away from view. An older blonde waitress answered the phone with an obviously rehearsed semi-cheerful greeting. Her fake smile quickly turned into a confused frown. She turned towards the diner half full of people and then turned back around. Everyone in the diner paused, trying to listen to the waitress speak.

“Who?” She asked the person on the other side quietly. She pulled the phone away from her ear and turned around to face the people. “Is there anyone named (y/n) in the building?” She asked out to the other patrons.

All your friends turn to look at you. You give them a confused look then raised your hand while trying to shimmy out of the booth. The waitress waved you over and you quickly and quietly made your way over to the phone. She handed you the phone and walked away and back behind the counter to check on and run some food.

You took a breath “Hello?” You asked softly. A woman answered back, “(Y/n) (L/n) is that you?” She said it in such a hurried tone you almost couldn't make out what she said. “Hello, who is this?” You asked again. The woman answers back almost immediately “(y/n), you're traveling with your friends in a brown and blue SUV, right? You ordered a salad with extra dressing?”

You freeze. Your eyes widen in horror. You turn around to look out onto the diner floor. “this is a joke right?” You muttered weakly at the lady on the other side of the phone. “Have you seen the truck yet? What about the crows?” She questioned frantically. “Did you see it? Did you see it's house?” She said, almost pleading.

“No I-” you started, but she cut you off quickly. “Now you listen to me. If you see a flock of crows, run. Run faster than you've ever ran before.” The woman commanded. You had a feeling that if you were face to face with the woman, she'd be spitting when she talked. Before you could answer back the phone was ripped out of your hands by someone.

You looked up at the person and quickly released who it was. It's one of the guys you're traveling with, Jeremy. Jeremy isn't really your friend, but he's Sammy’s friend so he tagged along. He starts to talk to the woman on the phone but quickly gets frustrated. Jeremy shoves you out of the way and begins to yell at the woman. He slams the phone back onto the receiver and turns to you. “who the fuck was that?” he asked. “I don't know, but she knew my name and our car.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh and takes a breath. “She knew my name too. Said it like she knew me all my life.” he looks over at the group and then back to you. “we got to leave, and soon.” you and Jeremy make it back to the booth and silently decide not to tell the others about the odd call. When Sammy asked you just told them it was your ex who found out where you guys were from another mutual friend. Sammy seemed skeptical but accepted the explanation.

When everyone was ready you made it outside to pile back into the SUV. You guys make it back to the road and try to bring the cheer back into the night. The car radio was broken so you, using your foresight, brought your portable radio. You also brought a backpack full of CDs. You pop in a CD the group voted on and slowly you all start singing to the music.

After a few minutes the vibe in the car is restored. Jeremy, who was driving the car, was dancing a little bit but still being a diligent driver. Abby was in the passenger seat, she didn't talk much but she seemed to be having fun anyway. Sam and Joey in the middle row, both talking about something you didn't care to listen to. And you in the back, the car's personal DJ. You lean forward to reach the middle seat and Joey turns to look at you.

“Spare some Scooby-Doo gummies, Sir?” You ask and a fake Victorian poor boy accent. Joey chuckles and turns to dig into a bag just out of your sight. Sam turns quickly to look at you “You JUST ate!” They accuse. Rolling your eyes you catch a glimpse into the front car mirror. Your eyes widened and you quickly turned around. A big rusted teal truck is only 45 feet away from the SUV. “Is that a fucking armored truck?” Joey sputters out.

“What?” Jeremy inquires, Not taking his eyes off the road quite yet. “God damn it, I can't see the rear view mirror through your fat fucking skull!” Jeremy snaps. Both you and Joey move out of the way only to quickly hear a “Shit” come from the front seat. Jeremy slowly accelerated the van, but skillfully maintained control. Abby turns to look, her eyes widen in horror. “It's speeding up!” She sputtered out.

The truck speeds up and before anyone can react, it rams into the back of the SUV. The car lurches forward and Abby slams her head onto the dashboard. Hard. If not for your seatbelt you would have launched into the middle seats. You shift back into your seat automatically, and decide to cover your neck and head. When you lean forward to cover your face the truck rams into the van again and glass is sent flying into the car. You feel the glass break against your back. The force of the push sends you forward only to shove you backwards into your seat. The force sends the glass deeper into your skin. Little razor like cuts slices against your shoulders and back. The wounds feel hot and angry against the spring winds, you lift your head to look at the damage of your friends. You quickly realize Abby and Sam are screaming in terror, and Joey is begging Jeremy to drive faster.

Jeremy presses his foot to the gas, but it doesn't matter, the truck is faster. Amongst the chaos you can hear the growls of the truck, it pulls to the left of the van and speeds up. “Fuck fuck fuckfuck-” Jeremy curses before the truck slams into the side of the van. Abby and Sam scream louder, and you can see tears roll down Abby’s cheeks.

Finally Jeremy slams on the break and lets the truck blaze past us. The truck doesn't stop and keeps driving up and over past the hill. Suddenly all there is is screaming, crying, and hard breathing. You remember seeing Joey cover his face with his hands to silently cry.

With the adrenaline slowly leaving your body the pain in your back properly sets in. Your hands slowly reach up your hand to touch your back, and come back with blood. You're not bleeding profusely, but it's enough to raise alarm. Jeremy looks back to his passengers while comforting Abby. “Is everybody okay?” He asks, You raise your bloody hand and his eyes go wide. He rips off his seatbelt and climbs over the center console, past the middle seats to get to you. He looks you over and looks at your back.

The group decides to turn around to get you help. The ride lasts only 20 minutes. You remember 20 minutes of hunching over while Sam and Joey pick the big pieces of glass out of your skin. 20 minutes of biting down on your arm, But eventually you get back to the diner. Jeremy gets out of the SUV, slams the car door, and bolts inside. Abby continues to cry in the front seat while Sam comforts you, and Joey comforts Abby.

Eventually Jeremy and other diner patrons come back out to the SUV. You remember the new quiver in Jeremy's voice when he told you and the group that he had called the police and that the nearest ambulance would take almost a half an hour to arrive. That's what an older woman says that she is a retired registered nurse and that she could assess the damage while we wait.

With almost everybody's permission she enters the SUV and starts to attend to your back. You don't quite remember what she said but she was very chatty. You do remember how she praised Sam and Joey for removing the glass, well she tends to your wounds she tries in vain to make conversation with you. You do remember telling her that if you weren't so exhausted you would chat back with her, she gracefully accepted that answer.

When she's done with your more serious injuries she moves on to tend to Abby. She says something about a concussion Abby's eye bleeding being from a popped blood vessel in the eye. What you really remember from the situation is Jeremy crawling into the back seat to hold your hand while you silently cry and pain. Finally in the distance everyone can hear sirens.

He watches everyone collectively breathes the style of relief as a police car and two ambulances roll up. The paramedics nearly jump out of their vehicle and rush over to the van to collect you and Abby. You remember Jeremy getting out of the van while three paramedics gently slide you out of the back seat and put you on to a stretcher. They lay you on your stomach and pull up your shirt, They started asking you a bunch of questions. Your name, your date of birth, where you live, and what happened. They wheel you into the back of the ambulance to assemble their equipment and fix you up.

“It doesn't seem like you need to go to the hospital” One of them says while picking out small pieces of glass from your lower back. “We could probably dig out the rest of the smaller chunks of glass and send you on your way.” Another paramedic tells you that you're lucky the damage isn't worse. And how the only reason the damage is this bad is because your back slammed back into the seat digging the glass deeper. “Don't know what deity liked you, but as far as I can tell most of the glass in your back is pretty big.” He pauses “which yes, is a good thing. It'd be hard digging out really small pieces of glass.”

You quickly tune them out, Not caring about their rambles it seemed to mostly be for themselves. It takes them a little bit but finally they start spraying your back and shoulders with disinfectant, and petroleum jelly before they start wrapping you all back together. “We don't think there's any need for stitches either.” The only female paramedic told you. “It should heal up beautifully, but we still recommend you see a doctor when you make it to wherever you're going.”

They call over Sam and tell them the good news. Sam helps you stand up, something you immediately regret. You let out a sharp hiss followed by a groan.

Eventually the cops question you but with everybody else already being questioned you hardly have anything to add. They thank you anyway and leave for their respective vehicles. By the time the cops and paramedics are gone it's closer to 7:00 p.m.

One of the older patrons who was still there invites you guys all back into the diner so he can buy you all dinner. He specified that he doesn't have much so not to go crazy but he can at least spare a couple dollars for a meal.

Everyone thanks him, declines his offer of payment, but head back to the diner anyway. You walk stiffly back into the diner and instead of sliding back into a booth you make it to the bar stools and sit down.

It's around 8:30 when someone runs into the diner and shouts about an SUV being seemingly broken into. You twist around on your bar stool as Jeremy and Joey run out the front door to investigate.

When they come back they explain to you, Sam, and Abby that the car had in fact been broken into but that it looks like nothing had been stolen. But they both say that the weird thing that's different is that everybody's clothes had been thrown around. Joey calls the cops this time.

It's nearing 10 when a police cruiser pulls up to investigate. You don't know anything about the situation as you can hardly sit up straight and there was no way in hell you were standing up and waddling outside. So you stayed inside the diner sipping on a milkshake. It's by this point in the night you're begging to just go home.

You actually end up falling asleep on the countertop. You're woken up by Sam and Abby telling you it's time to go. Sam helps you stand up and holds onto you and Abby as you make it out of the diner. Looking at the van you see that somebody has taped clear plastic wrap crudely to the back of the car where the rear window would be. You also now fully see how dented the back of the car is. You're reminded of how easily the glass shattered when the truck drove into you guys. When you walk up to the car Jeremy and Joey are sitting in the front seats discussing something but abruptly stop when you guys arrive. You collectively decide that Sam and Abby will get the middle row and you'll get the back seat again this time laying on your stomach for the duration of the drive.

Joey tells you that day swept off all the glass from the back seat so you weren't lying in it. “How thoughtful” New grumbled out, remember thinking to yourself about mediocrity and the bare minimum but you don't dwell on it. You pull your backpack full of CDs and portable radio down to the floor, within arms reach, and pop a new CD in.

This time the drive is different. It's quiet. Nobody speaks. The only audible noise being the CD player and the wind whipping around the plastic rear view window. You end up falling asleep again. You're woken up to the feeling of being jolted. When your eyes open it's met with the dark, You realize it's pitch black outside. Jeremy turns around to look at everybody in the back and apologizes for slamming on his brakes. “Deer” He just said apologetically.

As you awake and more and more you notice that from where you're laying you can see trees out of the window and a dark blue sky. Your attempt to sleep is thwarted by the sound of screeching crows. As you mentally grumbled to yourself you remember the shocking horrified feeling of recalling that mysterious phone call earlier of the day.

She had told you to watch out for a truck. She had told you to run it like hell when the crows called. She told you that you'd see a house. You panic and try to sit up as fast as you can but immediately hissed in pain. “Where are we?” You ask desperately. “Still in bumfuck nowhere.” Sam replies “did we pass a house?” You asking a scared voice. Sam turns around to look at you, she gives you an odd look. “No, just trees and fields of wheat.” They said back confused.

While you guys are talking Jeremy slams on his brakes again. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” Joey screeches in horror. “FUCK IF I KNOW!” Replied Jeremy. “What? What's happening?” You desperately plea. as Sam looks at whatever is in front of the car They look back at you “some kind of man looking lizard person???” They say in horrified confusion. You try to sit up again but wail in pain. Before you know it Jeremy has put the car in reverse and is speeding in the opposite direction. Everyone let's add a horrified scream as Abby cries “it can fucking fly!?”

Your imagination runs wild as you're unable to see the creature they're referring to. You can only let out a Sob when something lands on your car. The dent in the roof is in the shape of a v. You too start screaming when a boot swiftly kicks in the front windshield. Jeremy tries to drive erratically to shake the thing off but nothing works, eventually, somehow, the car flips over and sends everybody screaming.

You're jolted from your seat and hit the ceiling of the van with a thud. You scream and pain as you land on your back this time with more glass than ever. This coupled with the acute head trauma causes your vision to blur. It feels like your head is buzzing and a ringing is left in your ears. You still managed to flip yourself over while crying and pain. You hear another thud and another and two more. You see Sam and Abby crawling their way to the side doors. And when you look up to see Jeremy and Joey their doors are already wide open. You're left with a revelation that you're the only one left in the car and that it's your job to get yourself out.

With the most pain you've ever been in, You crawl to where the middle seats should be, and pull yourself up and out of the door. You crawl onto the asphalt and shakily tried to stand up. You sob harder as you make it to your knees and then onto your feet. You hear screaming and shouting and pleading from the distance. Finally someone grabs hold of you and pulls you aside. You look up, and through tears you see Sam.

Sam pulls you into their arms well screaming words that didn't make sense to you. Your head stops shaking and the ringing in your ears dies down. finally you hear the words “WHAT DO YOU WANT!?” Being screamed out by a voice you assume is Abby's. Suddenly everything goes quiet, No sound other than breathing and Sam's heartbeat can be heard. “Is that all you what?” Sam asks, “IS THAT IT?” You can hear the desperation in their tone. “Will you leave us alone?” They ask In a softer tone yet with somehow more desperation. You have no idea what happens or why it happens but suddenly you're shoved back to the floor You just fought to stand up on.

“You can have them.” Sam says “just flip our van back over and they're all yours!” realization finally dawns on you. You're being sacrificed to this creature. Your best friend literally pushed you aside with a promise of making it out of this situation alive. You look up and see the beast grabbing the van and turning it over back onto its wheels with inhuman strength. You let out another wail as you truly realize the deal your friends just made.

You watch as the people you thought were your friends walk over to their van and get back in. You watch Joey crawl into the backseat, and Jeremy with a severely broken leg make it to the middle seat. Sam and Abby take the front seats. You get to watch as Sam makes sure the car can still drive properly, and within seconds they're speeding away. All that's left as a trail of smoke, as the rubber burns on the asphalt.

You see the beast walk over to you, The pounding in your head doesn't cease. You see the thing’s boots coming closer. You can't lift your head to look it in the eyes, but at the same time you're relieved by that. Suddenly your body is lifted and you feel weightless. You try to wiggle around but it holds you closer. While you move in it's arms you feel it's skin. It's sharp and scraps you up decently. So now left with another horrifying revelation, that's not what a human’s skin should feel like. You begin to cry harder.

When you're finally back on the ground you see an old house and the giant armored truck that harassed you earlier. You had stopped crying a little bit ago, figuring that if It was going to kill you, It would have already killed you. You're still uncontrollably shaking like a leaf, but you feel like you can hardly blame yourself. The creature starts walking and eventually it opens the door to the house.

It closes the door behind you guys, you get to quickly look at your surroundings. It's just an old dusty house decorated like a Grandma on LSD got her hold onto it. The thought slightly amuses you but you're quickly sucked back into reality when the creature carries you up the stairs and into a room you can only guess is a bedroom.

Finally after God knows how long, the creature gently sets you down on a mattress piled with dirty clothes, pillows, and blankets. The piles down seem to be random either, it all looks meticulously placed around the bed making what looked like a human version of a bird's nest would look like. The thought snaps in your skull. Nest. You're in the things Nest.

For the first time ever you look at the creature in its shockingly human eyes. It has dark green leathery skin, with what looked like insect mandibles on either side of its face. You lean away from the horrifying monster, but it slowly leans towards you. You can tell by its eyes it's not trying to be intimidating but you don't think there's any possible way it couldn't be.

But you're proven wrong.

It purred at you

It fucking purred at you

Like a cat but much deeper. The creature lowers its head towards you and slowly kneels in front of the nest. It purrs again while closing its eyes. It's clearly trying it’s best not to frighten you anymore, but not sure what to do, you just freeze in place. It slowly lays its head in your lap and continues to purr for you. You can feel its chest against your legs, you can feel the vibrations through your legs and on your thighs. It's oddly soothing, frighteningly so.

You don't know why this creature is being so soft with you, but you choose not to question it too hard. You reason that it is better than being slaughtered, so it's best to just let the creature do its thing. After a few minutes it slowly gets off of you but continues to gently purr at you. It stands up and reaches its clawed fingers out to softly grasp your hand. It leans down and kisses your knuckles before getting back up and leaving the room.

You finally fully lay down in the Nest and sigh. “Better than being eaten.” You say softly and frustratedly rub your eyes. “Better than being eaten.”

Thanks for reading <3

Sorry for poor quality. It's one of those fics where I had written for days and eventually just got so sick of writing it, so I had to post it.

[writingthethoughtsaway]

“For a year it was like you and I were the only ones who spoke the same language.

I don’t know how you could just let yourself forget that.”

- S. C. C.

[futuretherapoo]

I'm so done with all these selfish people. As much as I don't appreciate myself enough, I wish I had a friend who was exactly like me.

[shamrockqueen]

Father Figure : Chapter 3

Pairing : Best Friends Dad Bucky x Reader

Warnings : R18, angst, eventual smut, age difference, taboo attraction, 18 and green

Word count : 3833

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Your night was nearly sleepless, plagued with every second of that phone call. His voice still lingered in your ear, making your skin burn a shameful shade of pink.

You didn’t quite understand this new version of him your mind seemed to be making. Of course Mr. Barnes had always been handsome, and at some moments incredibly attractive. From the few times he had seen him shirtless, he seemed well chiseled. Yet, by far, you loved his smile the most. It was something so genuine and gentle as it crinkled up towards his eyes.

But, he was Becky's father! He wasn't someone that could be an object of desire.

That simply wasn’t allowed. You weren’t allowed to see him as anything other than how he was.

Eventually exhaustion finally won out, rewarding you a few hours of much-needed sleep. Shortly after, you'd finally meet the morning, rubbing your sore eyes as the light of the rising sun was clouded over by a familiar yet stern face. Your mother was looking down at the both of you, disappointment etched into every feature in her face.

Her scrub top was wrinkled, and her hair messy from her own rushed morning. She’d looked over at the snoring mass that was Becky before the girl snorted herself awake.

“Get up, both of you!” Her voice shocked the room, jolting you both fully awake. Your friend from her deep slumber and you from your paralyzed state.

Becky was out of bed before you, as you clambered out of the covers. Your mom turned away from the two of you, calling back over her shoulder as she traversed the thin hallway. “Don’t be late for school."

Of course she’d rather reprimand you later, an awful quirk she had, as she'd rather have plants of time to chew you out over your disobedience. She had told you time and time before 'not to let Becky into this house.'

Her excuse being that Becky was a terrible influence. A sharp and noteless tune you were sick of hearing.

Rebecca was your friend, and even with her prickly personality, she had been there for you in your lowest moments just as you had for her.

The last you'd hear from your mother that morning was curt and was shouted out from the front door. “I’ll be telling her father where she was last night." What followed after was growled under her breath in distaste before she finally shut the door.

"Not that he’ll do anything about.”

You hadn’t heard that last part, but you didn’t care either way, believing this to be just part of her prejudice against your friend and her broken family. Not that yours was ever whole to begin with.

The two of you readied yourselves for an effortless Friday before leaving an hour earlier than necessary. Rebecca didn’t want to go to school just yet, goading you into following her to the old McDonald’s up the road with the promise of buying you a cheap breakfast. You agreed, and soon after the great piece of Americana came into view on the hill. Still with its ugly faded red metal roof and its big, barely lit yellow ‘M’ Truly a McDonald’s that time forgot.

She made good on that promise, handing you the bag as you followed her back of the shabby establishment.

The two of you ate your crumbling biscuit sandwiches in silence at one of the rusty tables sitting outside the little restaurant. Rebecca was more interested in filling her empty belly, whereas your sandwich sat in its unfolded wrapper with only a small bite missing.

Your stomach grumbled in protest, as if it would have rather gone empty in retaliation to the buzzing memories of last night's call to Mr. Barnes. His voice, smooth like velvet on the skin with a heavy timber, still seemed to rumble in your mind.

You had hoped that even with meager sleep it would have been forgotten, but you were horribly wrong.

“You’re really quiet.” Her voice nearly made you jump back, winning you a strange look from your friend.

“Damn, what’s got you so on edge?”

How could you answer that question? Certainly not with the truth that thoughts about her own father were consuming you.

“Uh…my mom..you know..she...” You struggled to find a scapegoat for your predicament, not wanting to spill any real secrets.

Your mom was mad this morning; that had to be reason enough to be upset yourself. You don’t even have to complete broken sentences to garner a response.

She gave you a groan before actually saying, “Yeah, I know she doesn’t like me.”

“She’s always on about things that she just doesn’t really understand.” You gave her a weak smile, hoping to reassure her just a little.

“Mine’s no better.” She said before taking a big bite of her sandwich.

“You still wanna visit her? You always complain about her when you’re up there.”

She chewed away her frustration before answering back with, “I just want her to notice me. It’s always easier for her to ignore me when I’m not there.” She looked down at the last meager bite of her sandwich as she mumbled a single lament under her breath. Yet, you still heard her words, spoken sad and low to her own chest.

“At least my dad calls.”

“How is he doing..? Your question cut itself short; the words had fallen out before you could catch them, but Rebecca didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. She didn’t notice the brief widening of your eyes as your heart hiccuped at your own mere mention of him.

“He’s…detached. Like for the last couple days something’s been bothering him.”

“I’m sure he's just overwhelmed.” You spoke softly before coughing out a continuation. “Uh…You did come home pretty sick the other night.”

“That’s just it; he hasn’t yelled at me or grounded me at all for that. Like..like he's given up or something.”

You tried to dance to safety around the topic only to step into an unseen mire as Becky’s tears began to spill.

You watch as Becky averts her gaze, making your stomach clench with the possible knowledge she might have had.

“I’m just…y’know. I’m sorry! I was a mess, and you and my dad had to take care of me.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. Becky often showed you a more subdued level of vulnerability, but on rare occasions she would shower her truer colors with a deep and sorrowful blue.

“I was so drunk that I don’t even know what I did to make you run away like that and…”

“Hey, hey.” You scramble for the wad of napkins that had been stuffed in your bag of food so that Becky could dry her eyes. It smudged her already messy makeup, but she seemed to calm down a little more.

“I think I fuckin broke him, and I don’t wanna break you too!”

“It’s fine, you didn’t do anything; I just..” you had to stop yourself before any truth could spill. You didn’t want to lie, feeling sick enough of the smaller ones you’d already given her.

“That night was a lot.” That wasn’t a lie, and the breathless feeling James had given you after pulling you over his knees came back all at once. “Everything just happened so fast…I”

“I’m sorry.” She cut you off again, much to your relief.

You huffed a sad laugh, sniffling as your eyes threatened to tear up. She smiled back at you, knowing you forgave her. You’d always forgive her.

“Can..uh..can you come to my house tonight? You know, if you want?”

“Oh I..”

“If your mom won’t let you, then it’s..whatever. But, the house is too quiet, and I don’t want to feel alone.”

Your mom wasn't as much of an obstacle as she’d hoped to be, not with her nightshift standing in her way. Most days she could rule the house, but until she could come home in the early morning, the nights were yours. Not that you ever did much with them other than hanging out with Becky.

You didn’t know how you could face Mr. Barnes, but you couldn’t ignore Becky’s cry for help. Certainly to your detriment.

“I can come over. It’s fine.” Your pulse has quickened, and you wish you had just said no. But, in all honesty, you didn’t want to be alone either.

With that, Becky’s mood had lightened, and she crumpled up her food trash before tossing it into a nearby trash can.

You fained a similar sense of joy; the knot that built in your stomach would remain all throughout the school day. You dreaded the moment you’d have to face him, but you already made your bed when you agreed, and now you’d have to lie in it.

At the time, there was a lot you didn’t know about James. Some of the things you’d learn were sad to say the least, but it made him seem all the more stoic.

James was young when he had first gotten married. They were already expecting Rebecca and truly believed they could conquer all odds facing their already short union.

James loved his daughter, her life never being created intentionally, but no matter what faced him, he’d never regret having her. Yet, early in his marriage, things started to change. Like a thin layer of veneer peeling away to bring into view the chipped and broken surface that had hid beneath. The more of this ugly side James had to see from his once blushing bride, the more and more it felt as if he sold his soul to a demon in disguise.

The fighting was spontaneous and yet routine. Not one single move that James had made was good enough for that woman, and it left a widening crack between them until everything finally broke apart. The split was desired by both parties, but nothing could be agreed upon. When James wanted to keep something, she was there to speak on why she needed it more.

The custody of their daughter, of course, made every other argument pale in comparison. The battle was vicious from both sides; James wanted to split custody so Rebecca wouldn’t lose both of them, but that woman wanted blood from a man that had never once lifted his hand to her.

Every second her daughter would see would be in her presence alone; that way no one could “poison her perception of me.”

The tears were spilling, and the woman James once happily called his 'wife' many years prior cried out to the court, "I was miserable," “I want a better life for my daughter," and James, of course, “wasn’t a proper provider,” at least not of the life she felt she deserved.

James never felt more disgusted with her than this moment; it was like watching a demon puppet the body of the woman he once loved like a corpse on a string. James was very lucky, because tears weren’t enough to sway the judge, and split custody was awarded.

This wouldn’t be the end of their infighting, taking its role on both James and most certainly Becky. A union was broken over top of a little girl's head, and the constant pull from either side tore into her belly with a deep and incurable pain.

Becky fought with her mother; she fought with her father, but she never had to fight with you.

Her voice was the only control she had in her own life, and the heavy sense of abandonment she felt when her mother sent her away left her empty. But, you listened to her; even as she raised her voice and screamed at the sky, you stayed by her and made her feel heard.

You were gentle with both Becky and her father, making the house feel calmer with just your presence, and as Becky clung to it, James seemed to gravitate unconsciously closer until ultimately colliding into you.

When his daughter came home drunk, he was beside himself to see how his own flesh and blood could be so conflicted. Yet, you were so perfect. He envied your pristine nature and took his frustration out on it.When he realized what he’d done, it was too late, and he was sure you told your mom, and he’d have cops knocking at his door the next morning. But you didn’t, and things went by as they normally did.

It gave him both a sense of ease and deep-cutting dread at when the shoe would finally drop if not now. You’d listened to him the few times he could open himself to you, just as you would with his daughter. It had made you such a great comfort as well as making this situation all the worse.

His image of you changed that night from the sweet girl that sat at his daughter's side into something sinister. He’d never handled you like that before, and your body felt fuller against him after he’d thrown you over his legs. You weren’t even scared as you looked up at him, only choosing to run away after being thrown off his lap.

He’d been inappropriate, letting a terrible part of himself break through, and he could never describe the disgust he had for himself after that moment. He sent you running away, and yet that broken part of himself had hoped you would come right back.

That phone call left his heart so heavy. He hated how elated he was to hear your voice before the news of his daughter's safety. It was a childish feeling, and it left his stomach aching as he recalled the events that led him to this point.

Your flushed skin was warm and soft under his calloused fingers. Then there were your watered eyes, wide and teary with confusion but not fear. You didn’t fight him off, and you weren’t scared of him.

You hadn’t slept well after that phone call, biting away a few bits of sleep without reaching any restfulness. By the end of the day, he was home, staring into the black lagoon of his coffee as his mind wandered. That was until it was interrupted by a soft knock at his door.

He had hoped it was his daughter, and he threw himself from his chair to open the door. These nightly flights weren’t new for Becky, and he couldn’t bring himself to be angry anymore as long as she went somewhere safe. That way she’d always come home the next day.

He opened the door only to find you standing with Rebecca on his porch, in the flesh instead of a dismissible, disembodied voice whistling through his phone speaker. Now you were in front of him. Now you weren’t at a safe distance.

His eyes caught yours first before immediately trying to break from your gaze. Then they landed on his daughter, and he stepped out to pull her into a hug.

“I’m glad you came home, sweetheart.”

“I-I’m sorry.” She said, just above a whisper, before the hug broke and he let the both of you inside.

He closed the door, turning his back to the both of you as he spoke. “I take it she’s spending the night?”

“If that’s ok?” You quickly called back before carefully setting your bag down by a small rack of shoes.

“It keeps her out of trouble if you're around.”

You noticed a small quirk of a smile along the side of his lips before he disappeared entirely when he turned back to face you.

Becky gave a sassy huff as she picked at her nails. But, she looked back up and gave her dad a grateful “thanks dad” before continuing her pace all the way to her room. You followed after as she threw her bag on the bed.

“We gonna watch a movie tonight?” You asked, laying back against her floral comforter.

“We can binge a bit of gossip, girl, or something.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows with a grunt before hopefully shooting that option down with a laugh. “Ugh, I hate teen soap operas. Literally anything else.”

“Shut up.” She chuckled back, “It’s not that cheesy.”

“Oh yes, it is!”

She grabbed her jacket to fling it over top of your head, like quitting a canary in its cage. “Quiet you.”

You threw it back off in disgust after a whiff of BO hit your nostrils. “Holy hell, that reeks.”

“Nuh uh”

“Fuckn, yeah, huh.”

“Well, I didn’t take a shower last night. So..” She said while sneaking a sniff towards her underarms before pinching her nose as the smell. “You wait here while I clean up, alright?”

“You better. I can still smell you from here.” You gave a fake gag and cough before pretending to faint onto her bed.

“Knock it off.” She laughed back, throwing more stuffed creatures in your direction before grabbing her change of clothes and trotting off towards her bathroom.

For a moment everything was how it always had been, and as you left her room to find a cheese movie on TV, it was like nothing actually changed.

That was until you saw him again. It wasn’t the face of Mr. Barnes, you knew; the soft quick of a smile was replaced by a deep and troubled frown. His eyes were no longer amused, only on edge.

When he saw you come in, he stiffened in his seat and gave a quick cough. You were a little surprised he decided to speak to you, but the sentiment was lighthearted.

“Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Absolutely..sir.” You shot back nervously. You always tried to take care of Becky, a responsibility that should have never fallen to your shoulders.

“How have you guys been?” You twirled your fingers together as you fidgeted from under his gaze.

“Becka certainly missed you.” He bemused. “Kinda think we both did.”

It was a slip of the tongue on his part, or maybe he’d hope you didn’t hear him talk under his breath. The low gravel of his voice gave him away, and you answered him back with a similar sentiment.

“I missed you too.” The words lingered before you cut their meaning with an added “both of you, of course.”

You watched as his adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow.

“Are you ok? Y’know after you got upset..”

“I wasn’t upset with you, I promise. I’m glad Becky came to you last night..”

“I meant the other night..” You looked out towards the bathroom as the sound of the shower still sounded through the house. “..when Becky came home sick..”

“Don’t..please.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“You are the last person that needs to apologize for that!” He had stepped up, leaving him standing right infront of your shivering form.

“I-it’s ok, sir..”

"No, it’s not.” He looks guiltily at you before continuing, “I’m just so frustrated. I just came spilling out until I..I hit you like that.”

“Mr. Barnes, please. If you just needed an outlet, it’s fine...” you stopped yourself before you continued, shocked by what had slipped out of your mouth. That’s not how you meant for it to sound. Mr. Barnes was your friend, and you just want him to be comfortable around you again.

Bucky spoke instead as he wracked a firm hand over his face.

“Oh my god. An outlet?” You are not an outlet. No man should ever do something like that to you without your consent.” What he’d done disgusted himself. If anything, he believed to be the luckiest motherfucker alive for not being in jail right now.

But in an odd touch, starved part of his brain, he had revealed the feeling of your warm skin under his palms for that brief moment. It made him feel even worse afterward.

His eyes shot out towards the hallway for any set of prying eyes into this incriminating conversation. The shower still ran, and the dull sound of music played from the steaming bathroom door.

"Listen,” he spoke in the calmest whisper he could.

“What I did was very bad. I cannot do that kind of stuff to you of all people.”

“But..”

“sweetheart..” He only ever called you that when he talked to you like a child. An adorable nickname for the sweet little neighbor girl who played Miss Mary Mack at the bus stop with his daughter.

“I’m not dumb, Mr. Barnes. I know what happened, but I-I don’t want you to have to feel this way about it.” You reach out for his hand, but he jerks it from your fingers, as if the small touch had burned him.

It was when you flinched, a few tears burning your eyes from the mistreatment. Although it seemed along with his expression, his heart melted when he saw your mood shift.

“You have no idea what you're saying." He leaned in and grabbed both of your shoulders to halt any further words that would come out of you. His voice was a low, angry whisper.

“If you have to put your hands on me again, I won’t stop you, sir.” You spoke so fast, a whisp of words flying through the air faster than they could be heard by praying ears.

But, he did in fact hear you. He saw the pleading look in your wet eyes with a glimmer of desire you didn’t even know was shining through them. It made his heart drop, and his skin flushed a soft pink you’d never seen it do before.

You questioned yourself for a second, feeling that maybe he was right and you didn’t know what you were talking about. Were you coaxing him to touch you again? Or, were you offering to be his needed whipping girl? Both assumptions being tailed by a horrible air of taboo.

Your mind started to spin, twisting your stomach over your own words. You hadn’t even realized you were crying as hard as you were until he told you to breathe.

You mumbled another pained ‘sorry..I’m so sorry.’ As you backed away from his hands, and your feet nearly caught against the couch as you stumbled for the door.

“No..wait!” His voice cracked as you evaded his attempt to stop you.

When you heard your name being called out to you again, it was by another voice. Becky’s face was a blur as she rushed to your side, grabbing your arm to stop you from running away. It grounded you, her wet hair clinging to her face and her disheveled shirt having been rushed onto her body.

Your head stopped spinning for a second. It was a short moment of clarity that allowed you to wrestle your elbow away from her grasp before grabbing your bag and running.

You ran out the door and down the street for as long as your legs could carry you.

Chapter 4

Tags list : @brianheadsworld @mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@funkybarnes @mayusenpai666 @cadencejames87 @wintrsoldrluvr

[bobbin-buckley]

Should I feel uncomfortable around my friends?

No, no I should not. But I am

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XXIV)

Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing (part I)

Read part one // masterpost // continued from here

{Unedited and very rough, but this one’s a kind of two parter, so maybe an update before Saturday and then another Saturday? It depends, but anyways~}

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tides untied Sawyer wordlessly, gathering his shallow breathing body in her arms and bringing him over to where Kit was still restrained, propping him up against the wall. Kit didn’t even know if Sawyer was conscious, but the heat from his body was nice, comforting and Kit hoped his could comfort Sawyer too.

His face was shredded with cuts. In multiple directions, some from cheek to cheek crossing his nose, others arcing down from his forehead over the bridge of his nose to the opposite side of his jaw. A bad one went straight over his left eye and down his cheek. The blood had coagulated into sticky gelatinous goo, patching the wounds with crimson glue. Barely any space on his face was free from caked blood, dried and crusting, the wounds sometimes leaked a clear pus when he moved slightly or moaned.

Tides whispered her apologies, tears still streaming down her cheeks, her breath hitching every now and then. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been stronger. I should have fought him harder. Sawyer, I’m s-so— I’m so sorry…”

Sawyer lifted a weak hand with a grunt and pressed it against Tides’s cheek, thumbing away the tears. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

Tides dissolved into sobs that wracked her body, hiccuping her shoulders up and down violently. He extended his arm and she lunged forward into a hug, wrapping her arms around his waist. Sawyer grunted lightly, but tightened his arms around her and held her while she cried, running his hand through the strands of her hair. “It’s okay.”

Kit stared forward at the opposite wall. Supervillain would be coming down again. Supervillain and Jude. And who knows how many others? If they were going to make Jude use his powers on them to hurt each other, it would break them down quicker than anything else they could do to make them change their minds.

“I think we should give up,” Kit said, hollowly. Sawyer stiffened beside him. Tides sniffed.

“Kit…” she said.

“We can’t—” he began but cut himself off. “We can’t do this to each other. They’re going to come back down and they’re going to force one of us to torture another. There’s no…”

“Kit,” Sawyer said then hissed as one of his cuts opened in his face again. Tides shot up, lightly dabbing at the bleeding with the sleeve of her shirt. Sawyer grabbed her wrist. “Don’t, you’ll ruin your shirt.”

“I don’t care about a stupid shirt.”

Kit swallowed the lump in his throat. He shouldn’t have said anything, but he couldn’t just sit here and watch his friends get hurt and not be able to fight back. If only he had his powers he’d be able to—

Kit blinked, straightening suddenly. His head snapped to the side. “Why didn’t Supervillain lock you up again?”

Tides shrugged. “I don’t think he cares.”

“But… the cuffs,” Kit said, rattling his for emphasis. “They’re power dampeners so why would he leave you loose? Isn’t he worried you can break down the door, or?”

Sawyer shook his head with a groan. “No,” he said. “Supervillain told me that he— he compelled us to not use our powers so now I can’t access them. I guess he just assumes we’re not a threat without them.”

Kit’s eyes widened. “Oh my god,” he said with a breath. No, not a breath. A sudden, startled laughter. Borderline hysterical but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. “Oh my God!” He screamed, his laughter turning into whoops and hollering as he drummed his feet on the floor as if his team was just winning in a football match.

“Kit?” Tides asked, concern lacing her voice.

“I think he’s lost it,” Sawyer said.

Maybe he was losing it. Maybe. But it didn’t matter. He felt tears climb his face, bubbling over in disbelief down his cheeks. “I need to get out of these cuffs,” he chuckled, trying to fight the fucking giggles trying to spring free from his chest.

“Kit—”

“No, no. You don’t under—” he cut himself off with another bout of sharp laughter that caused his chest to tighten and his abs to tense. It was starting to hurt but he couldn’t stop it, and he didn’t want to stop it really. Even though it didn’t feel appropriate with Tides’s guilt pouring over Sawyer and Sawyer’s face all bloody and bleeding, it felt light. He didn’t remember the last time he laughed as hard. Was it before Ambrose? Was it ever?

God, there was a time before he knew Ambrose. It didn’t seem like it. Though, he supposed Ambrose was always there, in the background. Mentor’s unknown and forgotten son that should’ve got the love that Kit did from him.

Kit’s laughter died down to a few stray laughs before settling into a smile, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. God, if he never knew Ambrose he wouldn’t be able to pull this trump card on Supervillain and Jude and fucking save the day; get Tides and Sawyer out of here to safety, and then come back to finish the villains off.

Kit’s smile fell off his face. No. That wasn’t right. Kit didn’t kill people. It’s why he suffered Ambrose so long, because he couldn’t imagine a world where he was that cold and ruthless. The world was dark enough without him adding to the misery.

Yeah… but those two deserve it, look at what they did to Sawyer? Look at what they made Tides do to her boyfriend, the voice hissed, sounding like static in his mind. Kit curled his hands into fists, uncomfortable at the intrusive thoughts leaking through his mind, but that’s all they were. The voice agreed with him merrily: Intrusive? Turned into external action, what’s the difference?

“Kit?” Sawyer asked, a sharp breath of pain huffed out.

Kit swallowed the lump in his throat and forced his thoughts into the back of his mind. He turned to face Sawyer and Tides. “I need to get out of these cuffs,” he said. “And I need you two to help me.”

Tides blinked, a frown pulled across her face. “Kit, we don’t have our powers.”

“I know,” he said. “I know. Just trust me. If they come back and they let us choose who gets tortured, tell them to do me, make it convincing, both of you. Say that you’re madly in love and that Sawyer couldn’t endure another round.”

Sawyer pushed off the wall, his brows drawn incredulously over his face. “And if they uncuff you and get you to torture Tides? You expect me to just watch that?!”

“It won’t come to that.”

“Bullshit, Mallory. How the fuck would you overpower them? Huh?”

“Sawyer…”

“No,” he said, cutting his hand through the air as if trying to chop the rest of conversation off. “No. We are not doing that, Kit. I am—” Sawyer’s eyes raised to Kit’s blue ones. “We will find another way.”

Kit jolted his hands forward in the cuffs, slamming them against the metal and throwing his head forward. He could feel the strain in his shoulders, tensing every muscle so he could feel them be so fucking powerless, then mumbled out a fine.

Another way?

They didn’t have time for another way, but sure. Another way.

They chatted mindlessly for who knows how long about who they thought Supervillain was how they knew him. Tides suggested one of the heroes that were beaten out by Superhero to get Mentor’s position.

“Yeah, but then again,” Sawyer said, “no one really wanted Mentor’s position after Omen.”

Kit swallowed at the mention of Omen, and Mentor. He shouldn’t have split up with Ambrose. He should have stayed with him and they could have found Supervillain together and none of this would have happened.

The conversation drifted to where they thought they were.

“Probably still downtown,” Kit said, but it was Tides that rebutted him, and said: “but with Omen’s power, we could be anywhere and he told us to forget.”

They drifted then, half awake, half catatonic. None of them really wanted to fall asleep in the arms of the enemy, and Kit had only just slept. Tides dozed off on Sawyer’s lap, curled like a child against his chest, Sawyer’s arms wrapped tight around her, resting his chin on her head.

Kit thought he must’ve been asleep too, so it was a shock when he said: “is it bad?”

“Huh?” Kit asked, glancing at Sawyer.

Sawyer’s face was neutral, but his eyes burned with something Kit had never seen in them before. A mix between fury and humiliation, and disgust.

“My face,” he repeated in the same tender voice. “Is it— do I look… am I horrifically deformed now?”

Kit blinked. “No more than usual,” he said reflexively, and cringed at the scathing glare Sawyer shot his way. “Sorry. Sorry, it was by accident, I swear.”

“You’re such a dick, Mallory.” Sawyer said without any real bite to it. A silence blanketed them after, Kit looking for the words to reassure Sawyer that he was still as annoyingly good-looking as he always was, when Sawyer continued. “I just… do you think she’ll still—” his voice cracked.

“Yes,” Kit said immediately. “Of course she’ll still love you, Sawyer. She’ll probably love you more now that you have badass scars. You could be the next Bond.”

Sawyer chuckled, tears glistening the bottom of his eyelids. “Maybe Bond villain.”

“Nah, you’re too good-looking for that,” Kit said with a sigh. “It looked bad earlier, but now that the blood has dried on your face it looks okay. Maybe if we get out of here in time a healer can fix it, or at least reduce the scars. But you still look good to me.”

“Yeah,” Sawyer said wistfully. “Maybe.”

A beat.

Then, “so you think I’m good looking?”

Kit groaned, staring straight ahead at the wall again. “If you tell anyone I said that they won’t believe you.”

“Yeah, but you’ll know it, and I’ll know it, and it will be torture enough.” Kit laughed quietly. “Thanks, Kit.”

Kit let it hang in the air, seeing Sawyer lean his head on Tides’ again and cuddle her closer. Kit was awake even as Sawyer dozed off too, his breathing light and even beside him. He sighed, wishing he could sleep too, or break out of his cuffs, but his mind couldn’t rest.

Where was Superhero? The explosion, was he dead? How many heroes were injured from Supervillain’s attack? Where was Ambrose?! He always seemed to show up at the worst times that Kit half-expected him to rush in, kill Supervillain and save the day. But he was still cuffed in a basement god knows where. He thought of Ambrose then, remembered that one time he stayed in Mentor’s house, how he could reach Kit’s mind from across the city. He was about to say his name when he stopped, paused. If Supervillain had Omen’s ability he could probably read Kit’s mind so Kit scrubbed all thought of Ambrose from it and replaced it with Omen.

Think of Omen only from now on.

Omen, wherever you are, find me, please. Supervillain took me, please.

It was a prayer of sorts, Kit realised after, but he was desperate. He couldn’t do anything else, so he just stared at the wall across from him and waited, annoyingly conscious.

*~*~*~*~*

Omen, wherever you are, find me. Please. Supervillain—

“Kit?” Ambrose murmured, groaning as he opened his eyes, assaulted by the light and shutting them tightly again. Took me please. I’m with Tides and Crow in a basement somewhere. Supervillain has your ability.

Ambrose groaned agin, forcing himself up by his hands until he was on his hands and knees. His head pounded and Kit’s fucking thunder-like thoughts were rattling his skull. He turned with an effort and sat on his arse, dipping his head and placing a palm against his temple.

He’s not alone, there’s a guy called Jude too, who owes you one apparently. They’re trying to stop us being heroes but the city was attacked and I don’t know if Supervillain is alive or—

OKAY! Alright, Ambrose boomed back and let out a grunt of pain at the force of his power.

Kit’s eyes widened at the concrete. He could hear him? He could… he could hear him!! He could hear him!!!

Kit, Jude’s a monster, he has the same power as me.

Kit shot back a sad: I know.

Ambrose pulled his hand away glancing at it to see a sheen of oil like blood in clumps of coagulated balls on his palm. Fuck, that bastard hits hard.

Ambrose pushed himself to his feet, the world tilting as he did and he stumbled sideways into a tower of boxes. Fuck. The world spun up and down and back and forwards and Ambrose wanted to throw up. He didn’t usually get like that, but then he remembered how much Jude made him drink last night and he paused.

Kit?

Yeah?

When did they take you?

Last night I think, why? Is it day time yet? Ambrose cursed, looking out the windows of the old storeroom, the light stinging his eyes. Yeah. It was daytime which meant Ambrose was out cold all night.

Shit. Ambrose struggled a little to get to his feet again, slower this time half climbing to them and when he did he grabbed the wall and righted himself until the world stabilised itself so he could risk a step forward. Then another, and another.

Omen? The voice threw him and he nearly lost his footing again, but he caught himself in time.

I need you to shut up, Kit, I’ll talk to you when I get myself together.

Why did something happen?! Kit asked, his voice raising in pitch with worry. Ambrose stopped walking. He was beside the door now, hand on the cool, metal handle, the taste of iron in his mouth. He probably had a concussion, maybe that’s why Kit sounded so concerned. Ambrose opened the door and stepped out into the street. He was still in Old Town, on Fagan’s lot. He would go back to Max’s and apologise if he was still there. Maybe try and recruit him into teaming up with him to save Kit and the other heroes.

Ambrose scoffed at the ridiculousness of it. He was spending too much time with Kit, he was starting to think of saving people instead of himself. That fucking kid.

I’m fine. I had a nasty run in with Jude, watch out for the girl with shadows. She strikes from them and can shadow walk— like phase through them into solid objects. I’ll talk when I have more information.

Omen… Please, when you find out if Superhero’s alive, a pause, hesitant, will you tell me?

Ambrose walked towards Dead Man’s Fingers, his body finally obeying his commands again. He needed a hangover cure immediately. Sure. Kit, sure. He pressed his hand against the door and stopped himself, considering if he should try and reassure the hero or not. He really shouldn’t. He was a villain. Kit was a hero, this was a liability of his job. Just hang on, okay?

Kit breathed out a sigh of relief. Okay.

Ambrose nodded stiffly, even though he knew Kit couldn’t see him and pushed on the front door to the Dead Man’s Fingers pub. It was locked, so Ambrose walked to the windows and peered inside. There was a light on in the back so he went to the side entrance where the delivery guys came through and found it open.

The bar was quiet, static and eerie. Then there was shouting and Ambrose quickened his pace, not running because his head wasn’t compliant enough to do that yet. One of the voices he recognised as Max’s but he didn’t know the other. He walked through the hall to up the little staircase to the main bar and pushed the saloon door open.

Max was behind the bar, a spreadsheet of inventory in front of him and standing on the other side of the bar was— “Oskar,” Nathan grinned, exposing his pointed canines. “So good to see you again, mate.”

Ambrose didn’t care about the hangover in that moment, his brain and body united in one goal to knock the bastard out. “Oskar!” Max said in warning, hopping the bar and standing in front of his friend. Ambrose didn’t even look at him. “Stop, he’s not worth it.”

Ambrose pushed forward, ignoring him when Max put a hand on his chest and shoved him back. This time when Ambrose looked at him, Max was pointing his index finger at him like a scolding mother.

“You are not starting a fight twice in my pub in the span of 24 hours, you dick! Just calm down,” Max yelled, running a frustrated hand through his black hair.

Nathan leaned his elbows on the bar, reaching over it to grab a bottle of whatever he could reach while Max was turned around. “Put that back,” Ambrose spat. Nathan waved him away.

“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist, Oskar, what’s a drink between friends?” He asked with a shit eating grin. It had been years since he saw Nathan, years since he buried that chapter of his life, and now here he was, in Max’s bar. The fucking nerve of him. Max walked back around the bar, smacking Nathan’s hand away.

Nathan retracted it, his mouth forming an o shape as he hissed and shook the pain away theatrically. Everything a show. “Why’re you even here?” Ambrose asked.

Max answered, though not out loud. Ambrose felt the guilt rise in him, consuming him, and Ambrose turned to face Max who was grabbing the edges of the counter with a white knuckled grip.

“You still talk to him?”

Max glared. “Get out of my head, Oskar.”

“It’s kinda hard to ignore when your whole body lights up with guilt!” Ambrose yelled, groaning as the pounding in his head throbbed and ignited, setting it on fire. He shot his hand out to lean on the wall beside him, and glanced at Max. “Can I steal a few eggs?”

Max rolled his eyes but didn’t say yes or no. So Ambrose disappeared into the kitchen while the other two continued to speak. He could hear them through the hole in the wall where the trays of pub food could be passed through, but he didn’t have to look at Nathan to know he was still grinning.

Dick.

“Still on the raw eggs and orange juice cure, Oskar?” Ambrose ignored him as he walked to the fridge and grabbed the eggs and orange juice.

“Stop trying to rile him up,” Max said.

“I’m not trying to do anything,” Nathan said, feigning innocence without dropping his grin. “Besides, he already knows we’re still in contact, no point hiding it anymore, Henders.”

Ambrose rolled his eyes, grabbing a class and cracking the shell of the egg against it. He lifted it over his mouth, tilted his head back and cracked it properly into his mouth. He swallowed it in a gulp and exhaled a long: “ahh,” as the slimy liquid slid down his throat like a slug. He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, then opened the orange juice and downed another two gulps. Then he rinsed and repeated, another crack, another egg, he screwed his face up, grimacing as he dunked the shells into the glass and drank more of the orange juice.

Better.

When he opened his mouth he felt better.

He put everything back and then walked back out to the bar. “You better not have drank straight from the carton,” Max said.

Nathan grinned and said: “you know he did,” at the same time that Ambrose nodded and said: “I did, yeah.”

“Fucking animal.” Max fumed, enunciating the words. Ambrose took a seat at the side of the bar, while Nathan stood in front and Max behind closed his inventory book as he sensed the conversation turning more disturbing than the argument they were having before.

“So, Oskar, starting fights, drinking to a hangover, aren’t you getting a little old for that kind of thing.”

“You would know, you’re ancient.” Ambrose replied deadpan, schooling his features until they were impassive. “Why are you here, idiot? I’m giving you one more chance.”

“So scary,” Nathan cooed, raising his hands as if he were defending himself and walking around to where Ambrose was sitting. He slung a lazy arm over his shoulder, pinching his cheek. “Come on, Oskar, there was a time where you worshipped me.”

“Yeah,” Ambrose said, elbowing Nathan in the chest. Nathan fell back with an oomph dropping his arm from Ambrose’s shoulder. “That was before I got some common sense.”

Max ran a hand down his face and sighed. “One of you piss off. It’s too early to deal with you.”

“I’ll go,” Nathan said, rubbing his chest. “Because I’m a nice friend who actually cares about you, Max.”

Max and Ambrose shared a look, but then Max dragged his eyes to Nathan. He nodded heavy, turned to grab the open tabs book and put it back on the counter under the light. “Sure. What’s your friend’s name again?”

Nathan walked around to the front pulling out his wallet, though his eyes never left Ambrose’s face. His grin turned to a smirk. “Jude,” he said handing the card over the bar. Both Max and Ambrose stiffened.

Max raised his head, steam rising from his shoulders. “Come again?”

“Jude,” Nathan repeated. It wasn’t Ambrose that went for him this time, it was Max who grabbed Nathan’s forearm in his hands and yanked him over the bar, throwing him to the ground. Before he could recover, Max had his forearm on Nathan’s throat, practically snarling at him.

“Why the— how the fuck do you know Jude?!” Max demanded, nostrils flaring but Nathan’s smirk didn’t leave his stupid face. Even as it went red from Max leaning on his windpipe.

“You know he started the fight last night and brought Superhero sniffing around here you dick, and then you call me your friend?!” Max hissed, his body temperature rising as his skin turned radioactively red, as if he was being looked at through a heat monitor. Which was not a good idea if he wanted to keep his bar.

“Max, calm down,” Ambrose said, lifting the hatch to go behind the bar. “You’re right beside very flammable substances, and your fire won’t even affect him!”

Ambrose’s head swam as he stepped forward, the wood and floor all blending into a swirl of black and brown before he righted himself again. Nathan wasn’t powered, but he did have the ability to negate other people’s abilities. Not through touch or anything, he just couldn’t be affected by magic, but a bullet? A knife? A punch?

“Talk!” Max demanded.

“Max, come on. It’s me we’re talking about.”

Max punched him in the face. “Why the fuck do you think I’m pinning you down?”

Nathan tilted his head down to meet Ambrose’s wide black eyes. “Oskar, darling, tell Max to get off of me.”

Ambrose’s eyes narrowed, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m quite enjoying the show,” Ambrose told him, letting his anger show. Max punched him in the face again, and Osk

Nathan let his head rest against the floor again. His shoulders twitched in a half shrug. “Alright. I guess I’ll just tell Jude to hurt Kit next.”

Ambrose’s blood ran cold. “What?”

Max went to punch him again, but Ambrose’s hand shot out: “Max, don’t move!” Max froze above Nathan, his fist still drawn back.

“Oskar! What the fuck!” Max seethed, his arm vibrating with the effort of trying to disobey his command, but Ambrose wasn’t really listening. His heart was pounding in his chest and his headache was exacerbated again by using his powers in such a short amount of time. While hungover, and Max was strong.

Nathan’s smirk didn’t leave his face, looking at Ambrose through his half lidded eyes. “Get him off me and I’ll take you to Kit.”

“Who the fuck is Kit?” Max demanded, his arm trembling where he held it aloft. “What’s going on here?”

“Aw, Oskar…” Nathan said, shaking his head and tsking. “Naughty, naughty. Don’t tell me you’ve never told him? I thought you and Max were best friends.”

Ambrose’s eyes burned like black coals, glaring at the monster hidden behind a human face and body. He clenched his jaw. “Max, get off of Nathan.”

Max stood, then turned and punched Ambrose in the face. Ambrose stumbled back his arms flailing and would’ve fallen if it wasn’t for his elbows catching on the counter and keeping him up.

A hand fisted his shirt and yanked him forward, the world rushing in his peripheral vision. “Don’t you ever fucking do that again,” Max hissed, plumes of smoke rushing out his mouth and nose. Nathan got to his feet behind Max, wiping invisible dirt off of him, smirk still on his face.

Max turned to face Nathan again. “What are you talking about? Not telling me what?”

“Nathan,” Ambrose said, his voice wobbling. Nathan’s smiling eyes met Ambrose’s lost black gaze across the bar, slowly shaking his head at him. Max pivoted again, pointing a finger at Ambrose.

“I swear to God, Ambrose, if you open your mouth one more time I will explode the whole fucking bar and you with it,” Max said enraged, turning to Nathan. “Tell me!”

“Kit is Oskar’s pet hero.” Ambrose swallowed the lump in his throat, tightening his hands into fists as he straightened. He watched Max’s back knot tight at the words. “Who was Mentor’s prodigy back when he was the Superhero in the city.”

“You’re friends with a hero?” Max asked his voice unnaturally low and quiet. Ambrose’s heart stuttered in his chest. His black eyes went to Nathan’s, pleading for him to shut up. If Ambrose tried to wipe Max’s memory he wouldn’t be able to do the same to Nathan, and then Nathan would tell Max all over again. Just to torture him.

“How long?”

Ambrose almost didn’t hear the question. “Max, it’s not like that.”

“How fucking long have you been friends with a hero?!” Max demanded, whirling. “Was it before or after you came to me for help about Supervillain? Huh? When you know— you fucking know—”

“Supervillain?” Nathan asked, his brows raising.

“Shut the fuck up, Nathan,” Max growled. Nathan winked at Ambrose, bending to scoop up his wallet from the ground and his card, and walked back around the bar. Safe from Max’s rage and kept walking until he was in Max’s sight line, behind Ambrose. Ensuring that Ambrose was sandwiched between the two of them with nowhere to flee if things got hairy.

How had Ambrose even let it get this far? Nathan was always a wild fucking card, it enamoured him with Nathan at first. The only person, it seemed like, in the city that Ambrose couldn’t boss around or read the thoughts of. With Nathan he felt like a real person, how real people feel when they’re born without telepathy, and it was dizzying.

Now, all Ambrose wanted to do was kick the fucker’s teeth it and leave him dead in a ditch somewhere. He knew too much, he always, somehow, knew too much. Did Jude tell him about Kit? Or did Nathan tell Jude, and always keep tabs on Ambrose after they fell out? It didn’t make sense.

“Heroes took everything from me, Oskar, so why?” Max asked. All the pain and grief of losing his family to heroes, all the long nights that Ambrose had to stay up to ensure that Max’s nightmares didn’t set his bed on fire from panic attacks. Max told Ambrose he found out his Father died on television when he was eleven, and it was Mentor who broke the news.

A good hero, Mentor said, and an even better friend.

Max told Ambrose how much he hated heroes after that. How he hated Mentor for filling super-people’s minds with all these ideas that they needed to risk their lives to protect others innocent people from bad ones. That it was their moral duty, because they were chosen to be born with gifts, they had to use them.

“Fucking answer me!” Max howled, tears springing to his eyes. “You owe me that much!”

“Max, I— Max, look, it’s not like that. It wasn’t, we aren’t friends, it’s more like business acquaintances.”

“What are you even talking about? Did your little hero pal get into any legal trouble, Oskar?”

Nathan leaned on the bar, putting his elbows on it and propping his chin up with his hand. His smirking eyes drinking in the chaos he caused.

“Max, please, can we talk about this in the kitchen, please? Where there are fire extinguishers?”

“Are you seriously trying to school me on how to use my powers? I own this fucking bar! I can blow it to kingdom come if I want to.”

Nathan chuckled behind Ambrose. “If he’s angry about this, Osk, wait til he hears about Mentor.”

Max shot his hand out, a tongue of flame shooting from his wrist and catching Nathan’s jacket. Nathan fell back a step, eyes wide as he slapped the small ember to extinguish it. He shook it out and the flame died, but the flames burning like hell’s fury in Max’s eyes didn’t.

“I told you to shut the fuck up, Nathan. Get out. Now. Before I fucking incinerate everything you’re wearing.”

Nathan scoffed. “Fine. I’ll be outside when you’re done here, Ambrose.”

Ambrose stiffened at the words, the two of them following Nathan out the door until he disappeared. Black eyes turned back to Max who was pulling at the strands of his hair at the base of his neck, turned away from Ambrose. His back muscles prominent from how hard he was tensing. Ambrose watched his ribs rise and fall and hated the fact that he caused that.

Well, not him, Nathan, but this never would have happened if Ambrose had just told him about his life. About his family. About his dad.

“Max,” he began, straightening. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but I haven’t seen you since I met Kit, but Mentor—” Max straightened, his hands forming fists at his sides. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I wanted to but—”

“Tell me, what?” Max demanded, his voice a mixture of rage inflected with impatient tiredness.

Ambrose breathed out a sigh, running his hand through his hair. He needed a shower. “You know all that bullshit with my dad, right?”

Max walked forward, leaning his hands against the counter behind the bar. “Yeah.”

“Mentor is my father.”

Max’s eyes found Ambrose’s black ones, studying his shame flushed face that he never saw on his friend before. He looked conflicted and upset at the revelation, like he wished he was born to anyone else.

“I just know how much you hated him, and how could I tell you when I found out what happened to your parents, and I—”

Max surprised him by turning his body while Ambrose babbled and placing a hand on his shoulder. His lips twitched up at one side into a mockery of a smile, but the effort floored Ambrose and he cut himself off.

“Why wouldn’t you give me another reason to hate the bastard, you dick?” Max asked, tilting his head to the side.

“I didn’t—” Ambrose began but cut himself off. Well, if he was being honest, why not go all the way? “I didn’t want you to hate me too.”

Max didn’t answer. His smile turned up a little as he scoffed and then he pulled Ambrose into a hug. Ambrose froze, not knowing what to do but feeling an urge to cry.

“What’re ya, a dead fish? Hug me!”

Ambrose obeyed, wrapping his arms around Max’s shoulders and letting a breath out through his nose. A breath of relief and shame and all the guilt he carried around keeping this from Max. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, you can’t control who your dad is, besides,” Max said leaning back with a grin. “I don’t think I could ever hate you, Oskar. Don’t let Nathan get in your head again. And, I’m sorry for not telling you about him too.”

Ambrose nodded. “It’s fine,” he echoed, running a hand down his face. He wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep, he felt like he had been up for hours and being knocked unconscious didn’t exactly constitute proper rest. But he had the funny feeling Nathan had other plans for him when he stepped outside. No doubt delighted at the fact that he could lord Kit’s life over him.

Fuck, he should have played it cooler when he mentioned Kit. He could have if he wasn’t hungover and tired and possibly concussed.

Ambrose took a breath and glanced at the door. He looked back at Max, “are we good?”

“Yeah,” Max said with a smile. “We’re good. Go save your hero, or whatever you do these days.”

Ambrose shook his head lightly with a smile and walked through the door, down the steps out towards the side entrance. Through the open door he could see Nathan leaning against the opposite wall, one foot against it, a cigarette dangling from his long fingers and a smirk on his lips when he saw Ambrose follow him out.

“You came.”

“Don’t get a big head,” Ambrose told him, sliding his hand into his jacket pockets. “Max wouldn’t open the front door.”

“Mmm, don’t want to piss him off,” Nathan said, cocking a brow and tilting his head to the side, his eyes flashing with cruel interest. “But because you’re not ashes right now, I assume you didn’t tell him about Mentor. Did you wipe his mind?”

Ambrose stared into Nathan’s silver eyes, wishing he could get inside his brain and crush it in the palm of his hand. His silver eyes swirled like liquid mercury, entrancing and unsettling, and it’s why people always assumed he was powered somehow. He was, but not in the way everyone else was. His ability was defence not offence.

He should lie, and he did. “Yeah, no thanks to you,” Ambrose spat. “Why the fuck would you tell him that? After everything that happened to him? I thought he was your friend!”

Nathan grinned, bringing the cigarette to his lips and taking a long drag of it, locking his gaze onto Ambrose’s black eyes as the butt burned red and excess ashes floated lightly to the ground.

“He is. I just did it to fuck with you.”

“What the fuck is your problem?! How do you know, Jude?” Do you know Supervillain?! Ambrose didn’t say because he knew he wouldn’t like the answer. Why are you back? Where the fuck did you crawl out of?

A million questions ran through his head, his heart throbbing in his chest as the memories of Nathan flooded back to him. He fought the flush of anger and shame that rose in him as he stared into his rolling silver eyes.

“Let’s chat while we walk, Oskar, have a nice little catch up.” Nathan said, plumes of smoke exhaling down his nostrils and over his lips. He pushed off the wall and started walking down the little alley. Ambrose didn’t move.

“Are we going to Kit?”

Nathan didn’t stop walking. “Eventually,” he said, not bothering to even turn around, and why would he have to? He knew Ambrose would follow. Ambrose sighed, mentally kicking himself and followed Nathan down the alley and back into the winding streets of Fagan’s lot.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Continued here

Author's Note - Can I just take this moment to say that the Oskit discussion all week has had me laughing my heart out, and I have loved every second of it. As someone said, our brains rotted while considering Ambrose's sex life which, I'll be honest, I didn't consider before XD So to everyone who ships and everyone who doesn't, thank you for the giggles this week, I was thoroughly entertained <3 I hope you all have a great week!

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie e @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland @tippytappytyping g @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios s @whatwhump @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @ehobep @acer-whumpstuff @fa1rie @jesterrinobutter

[mothlingmeg]

I existed long before i met you. I lived before I knew you. I loved things before we ever spoke for the first time. Your perception of me is small and incomplete. I do not owe it to you to change myself or stay in one place forever. I will take up space.

[vampireink]

They're not my friends

They say they're happy for me

But I see it in their eyes

They're the least happy for me

They pray for my downfall

But I won't succumb to them

I am better off alone

Where I am safe

Where I am understood.

[Kas]

[misstycloud]

How about a popular reader x unpopular yandere>

It was lunch break and you sat together with your classmates inside the classroom, eating your food. Today's topic was the new horror movie coming out soon, you'd all seen the trailer and it seemed scary. It was one of those 'robot turns evil and starts murdering people' kind of film, and you were totally up to see it.

"Bro, did you see her face? Now that's what I call scary.'' your friend Taro said in an exited voice.

"Yeah, bet you shat yourself when you saw the trailer." Hana joked and snorted at him, Taro in return gave her a 'really?' look.

"Haha, very funny."

"I agree, I'd love to see the way you'll scream when we actually go watch it. It'll be the best moment of my life." you said, following in Hana's footsteps.

"Oh no, not you too. Bullying is bad, you know. You could get expelled."

"The only one getting expelled here is you, we saw what you did to that Mitsuki girl in 3A. Not to mention that other younger student." another one of your friends reminded him with a smirk gracing his lips. "Mitsuki was not looking good, I'll tell you. You need to stop tormenting these poor people or it'll come back and bite you one day." he mocked.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." in the corner of Taro's eye, he noticed a certain boy enter the classroom and glancing around until he spotted your group. Taro smiled deviously, "well, talking about sad people," he turned to face you, "there is one right there."

Looking in the direction of which your friend pointed in, you realised what he was talking about and sighed at the sight. Sano Yamada, your boyfriend. Actually, you didn't know if he really was your boyfriend. It's not like you loved him or anything. How could you? Not with that plain face, boring fashion and lack of social life. He wasn't exactly a popular one...

Why are you with him, then?

Simply because it’s fun. He obviously liked you, enough that your friends noticed and proposed a plan to you: fake confess to him on the rooftop, and then tell him he was being pranked. It would be hilarious. Especially if you caught it on video. That way, all of you could rewatch the moment for ever. So you agreed. You asked him to meet you on the roof by sending him a note and put it in his locker. At first, you thought he was too shy since it was after the decided meeting-time, but then he stumbled through the metal door and fell in front of you. He apologised for being late and you had simply sighed before getting on with your mission, glancing at your phone who was in recording mode.

It was easy. Just pretend that you like him before breaking the truth to him and let your friends revel in his humiliation. That's how things were supposed to go. Just be a little mean and then go home like nothing happened, but the world had different plans it seemed.

For when the time came for things to go down, Sano got too caught up in joy that he failed to notice you weren't done, you hadn't gotten the chance to spill the beans that it was all fake and you weren't even close to liking him. You wished to fix things so you didn't have to date him, but your friends wouldn't let you. They believed it would be fun if you simply didn't say anything and kept going out with Sano, even if it was fake.

So that is how you ended up with an unwanted boyfriend.

"Hello," Sano said as he reached the put-together tables you were seated at. "how's it going?" Is he was trying to adapt to your group of friends and impress them. He sadly didn't succeed.

The others gave him a tight lipped smile and answered shortly with a small 'it's fine'. You could not help but sigh again at his presence, the two of you didn't even share any lessons, did he really have to be there? Understanding you were the reason for his unexpected visit, you still asked, "Sano, what a surprise. What are you doing here, aren't you supposed to be with your own class?"

He didn't pick up on your irritation and replied to your question with a kind smile, "Yeah, but I missed you so much that I thought I could come here instead." Blushingly he turned his gaze to the floor, still somewhat shy in front of you.

"Oh..that's so..sweet." You forced yourself to at least look like you enjoyed his gestures and loving gaze. Taro and the others covered their mouths to hide their snickers, you pretended not to notice. How you wished Hana was the one Sano liked, not you.

"Can I join?'' Sano wondered and pointed at a free chair next to him nobody was using.

"Eh, sure."

Ha thanked you and pulled the chair close to the tables and sat down. Giving their last mocking laughs, they stopped after you sent them stink eye. After that conversation continued on like normal. Though he'd been allowed to join you, Sano didn't dare say anything and only sat there quietly. Just like a shadow. Just like it'd always been. There but not there at the same time, unnoticed and ignored. That's how most of sano's life has played out.

"-yesterday me and Taro talked, and we thought it would be cool if we all went to mall tomorrow."

"Need those new clothes, y'know." Taro chimed in and gestured to his body.

"You in?" Hana asked and looked at you.

"Yeah, of course." you said happily, you needed to do a little shopping yourself anyway.

"Cool, we can see if we can find those dresses we didn't buy last time!"

Last time you went to the shopping centre, you discovered two beautiful dresses but sadly weren't able to but them at the time because you two were broke as hell. You were pretty sure you only had like three dollars in your bak account. While you thought you were bad, you didn't even wish to think about Hana's economy.

"Good idea, I really liked it and-"

"-sorry to cut in,'' an anxious voice had interrupted you, "but aren't we going on a date tomorrow?" Sano put his hand over yours and squeezed it, "remember?"

Right. You totally forgot. You werre supposed to go on a date with Sano this weekend, he'd inquired about it nonstop for almost three weeks now and there was only so much you could take before giving in to his demands. You thought it better to simply get it over with so he'll shut up and leave you alone for a while.

"Right, I forgot. Sorry" you apologised in an obvious fake tone.

Sano nodded, signalling he accepted your apology. He didn't see how you scowled at him behind his back when he wasn't looking.

-

Lunch time had now passed and school was almost over, the weekend fun could soon begin. Which everyone was happy over, perhaps the teacher's more than anyone.

'I shouldn't have drunk so much water.' Sano thought to himself as he wandered through the halls of the building.

Entering the boys bathroom he saw it as empty, and proceeded to open the stall door stall and lock it. But right as he was going to get down to business, he heard the door opening and others coming in. The voices weren't of people he recognise, so he didn't plan to bother with it. However, when the conversation went in a direction related to him, he had no choice but to secretly listen in.

"You know that (Yn) girl from class 3C?"

"Yeah, of course, she's hot as fuck."

"Right, but have you seen that guy who follows her around all the time?" The voice mentioned in a rude way, making it clear he did not mean well.

"I've seen him a couple times. Not the best face, if you get what i mean." The second voice said and laughed.

"Hahaha, he's not a prince charming that's for sure."

They didn't realise the person they were talking ill of were very much within hearing range and listened to every word that came out of their mouths. Sano stood there, completely frozen. Taking in what they said. Was that really how people saw you and him? While he knew he was no social butterfly and you were well liked by many in contrast to himself, he didn't think it was something people actually brought up.

"I don't get why she doesn't leave him. There are surely better guys in school, she's bound to fall for one of them."

"You mean someone like Haruto?"

The other voice exclaimed, "Exactly! Someone like Haruto is a much better fit for her, he's well in her league. "

After that Sano heard some more bustling noises, and then it was silence. He poked his head out to confirm they had indeed left. The boy decided to goo back to class, his reason for leaving now forgotten. He piled over the two students words. Were they right? Did people actually believe someone else was a better choice for you. But that couldn't be true. He was yours and you were his. You belonged together.

That's what you felt too. You must, what would he do if you didn’t? No, you have to love him. Otherwise you wouldn’t have confessed to him so sweetly that day on the roof. He tried convincing himself that he was the love of your life like you were his, something told him it wasn’t like that though.

He wondered if you actually would leave him if someone better showed up. Someone like Haruto. Those two students from earlier weren’t wrong at all, Haruto was great. At many things. He was liked by everyone, he was good at sports, good at being funny and he just had to be good-looking too.

Much more than Sano, which hurt pretty bad. He hated to admit it but you and Haruto would make a better couple. He was jealous. Very jealous. He’d have to prove he was the perfect one for you. Sano couldn’t let anyone come and steal you away!

Sano would show you how good of a boyfriend he can be and your date tomorrow would be a glorious opportunity for that.

-

[canwepretendthatairplanesss]

They're all fine with you having social anxiety, until you show a symptom of social anxiety or say that you can't do something because of it. Then, in their minds, you stop being a socially anxious person, and instead become a bad person.

[books-are-my-world-xo]

„Nie wiedziałam, czy mnie tam chcesz.

- Więc wiedz na przyszłość, że zawsze cię chcę.”

~ Aleksandra Negrońska „Bad Friends (Friends #2)

[dudja]

Bobby Lee a legend #reservoirdogs #comedy #funny #show #bobbylee #drbobbylee #doctor #drama #chips

[writingthethoughtsaway]

“Anyone else feel like their backstory is so traumatizing that they should have developed superpowers and/ or become a superhero/villain by now?”

- S. C. C.

[average-emo-enigma]

Why do all the people with the best fashion sense also happen to be literally the worst people you will ever meet

[st4rbites]

unironically find myself begging for attention from people who’ve hurt me like a dog. people who i genuinely thought were cool and nice and then turned around and did really fucked up stuff. i have this idea that if i’m nice enough, or am enough, that everyone will like me and think i’m cool. i don’t deserve to act desperate for companionship. i don’t deserve to have people pity me and be my friend. i deserve someone to want MY attention. i deserve to be in a position where rejection is inconsequential.