#I hate maddi

[bevy-obeyme]

MADDI IF I SEE YOU I AM SQAURING UP!!

[arcanefanpage]

[naturegirl555]

[dcxdpdabbles]

Bruce: What is that?

Tim: My lunch.

Bruce: Why is it so.....different?

Tim: Oh, Alfred didn't pack this for me. My boyfriend did.

Bruce: Your what?

Tim: My boyfriend. Danny was really excited to learn how to make Ramen from scratch so I was-

Bruce: Danny? Danny Fenton!?

Tim: You know my boyfriend?

Bruce: Of course I know that boy! He's the spawn of Madeline, the man stealing cow.

Tim: ......what

Bruce: If I didn't have my no killing rule I would have taken her out years ago and married Jake after he finished grieving her.

Tim: .....I called Danny paranoid, but I guess he was right. Billionaires really do try to steal his parents if he gets too close to them. No wonder he didn't want to me you.

Bruce: Bet you, he got that attitude from his mother.

Tim: Please leave me alone. I want to enjoy my ramen in peace.

[tvuniverse]

EVAN BUCKLEY WEEK 2024 Day 5: Buck + bi disaster moments (x)

[magicpiano]

I have seen the idea in Danny Phantom fics that the ghost zone connects alternate universes to each other. This makes me want a fic where Danny has a bad reveal with his family, escapes to the ghost zone, then goes to another world where Danny just straight up died in his accident. In their grief, his parents completely abandoned their research.

These alternate Fentons don't care that Danny is half ghost, nor that he is from another world, they are just so happy he is here. Now Danny has x2 Jazz, Sam, and Tucker.

[theotherbuckley]

incorrect tweets pt 17/?

[evilmortymortimer]

[brainmuncher]

The emergency

A good number of members within the Justice League have children. Not all of those kids are biological or adopted but they are their kids nonetheless. Some of those kids are even old enough to be adult heroes of their own, but even then they are still their kids. And the other kids tend to take up heroism at a very young age to most people's chagrin. Although as shown by the original child hero, now going by Nightwing, it’s not as easy as telling the kids to stop.

It was learned through intense hardship that smothering the child heroes was just asking for trouble. Despite how much the older heroes wanted to stay close to their kids, it was seen as overbearing and a show of mistrust. They would act out with even less backup in retaliation, which would only bring even more stress.

So to satisfy the need for protection without stepping on any toes, two new emergency meeting signals were introduced.

One was for the kids to send off. Each one was gifted a small device that could be hidden in their person. The device had both a mic and a tracking chip that could be activated when they were in extreme danger. As soon as the device was active a signal would be sent to the league for an emergency distress signal with the details of who sent it. Due to an outcry from the kids, the device could not be activated by the guardian of the child. The mic and locator could only be activated from the device itself. It wasn’t nearly as protective as some of the more worried leaguers would like, but it was at least something. 

The second signal was one that the leaguer with a kid in danger could activate. This signal could be activated with a single code into the communicators that every member owned. If the member who sent out the signal didn’t specify what kid was in danger, every member would receive a generalized notification of the emergency alert for one of the kids. This wasn’t ideal, but it was learned early on that the guardian of the child was often too distressed to make the code more complicated. It was best to leave it simple and answer questions at the emergency meeting.

Which was great in all, until someone who doesn’t have a child involved with heroics in their care sends off a general emergency.

In places all over the globe, an emergency meeting signal message was sent by Hal Jordan, one of the lanterns. He didn’t include what child was in danger in the signal, meaning that it could be any of the underaged heroes. And considering he didn’t have a child in his care, that made multiple members panic.

When was the last time they checked in with the kids in their care? Who was the one he was sending the code for? What happened to the child he had noticed was in danger? Why is he the one that noticed? Where were their kids? Who was in danger?

Because of the nebulous nature of the call, it didn’t take long for multiple heroes to find the nearest transport to the watchtower and tumble in. What they didn’t expect was the absolute haggard appearance of their friend. He was standing in the meeting room looking like the world had been destroyed before his very eyes. The way he sat without even cracking a sarcastic remark made multiple members pause.

“Hal?” Wonder Woman called, her face pinched in concern. “What has happened?”

The aforementioned member looked over who had already arrived before settling on her face. It was at that moment she knew that he was only looking so collected through willpower alone. This wasn’t just any child of the league, this was personal.

“My nephew Danny has been captured,” He began, sending a wave of different emotions circling the room. “I’ve been trying to find where they took him for a week now and I can’t get any leads. I need your help.”

The unsaid questions and emotions were nearly palpable. Multiple members turned to one another or stared with a million questions. Nobody had known that Hal even had a nephew named Danny. Sure he mentioned someone named Jason at times, but he never indicated anything else. The fact that he hadn’t mentioned him or the fact that he’d been apparently searching for a week was strange.

“And why are you only telling us now? Why did you wait so long?” Superman asked, speaking up the question that was on multiple minds.

A fire of anger curled in Hal's eyes. It was fierce and protective. It was a mixture of appalment for being questioned on his decision and fury for the reasons why he had to do it in the first place. He stepped forward towards the center table, slamming his palms down and leaning into it.

“Because any person that goes against the group will be declared an enemy of the United States. I’ve already had my account and housing connected to Green Lantern seized,” He explained with a deceptively calm tone. “I also needed to make sure that they didn’t have any connections with the Justice League. They have their agents everywhere.”

Unsurprisingly, Batman appeared from the gathered heroes from seemingly nowhere. Despite the feud between the two of them, the Bat was completely zeroed in on the situation. While he had a decent amount of distrust in the lantern, mainly because of the parallax incident, he could tell that the man was genuine. And the Bat always did have a blind spot for children.

“Explain,” Was all Batman said, staring Hal down.

The lantern in question looked at him with a grim face. This was it. Now or never.

“They’re called the Ghost Investigation Ward, or GIW for short. They hunt down and either exterminate or experiment on anyone they deem ectocontaminated or a ghost,” Hal started to explain, his hand curling on the table in frustration. “My brother Jack faked his death and ran off to be with another woman. Those fucks deemed my nephew as ectocontaminated and tried to take him from his home. He ran from his family so that they couldn’t be arrested for knowingly harboring an ecto entity. Told me that he remembered my face from a photo his dad tried to hide in the attic and sought me out.”

If the fire in his eyes were any stronger, they would probably become physical and burn down the room. It was undeniable that Hal Jordan was understandably completely pissed off. This situation was terrible from down to the very root.

“I tried to hide him but they somehow found him anyway. Now my civilian name is being heavily monitored and Green Lantern is being hunted down,” He finished his explanation. “If you join me in this, be prepared to lose everything.”

This was so much worse than anyone could’ve predicted.

[bibvck]

Maddie Han 9-1-1 | 8x09: Sob Stories

[sorbetlli]

It would not be far fetched of me to think movie Sonic has never had a crush before and has to navigate these new feelings about Shadow. He goes to Tom and Maddie like “my heart keeps racing when I think of Shadow does this mean I’m going to die” “I think my face has been set on fire it keeps going red”

[bet-on-me-13]

What if I'm the Monster?

(Based on Monster from Epic the Musical, it's incredible, give it a listen)

So! For the past few years, Danny has done nothing but defend Amity Park from Agressive Ghosts, Lunatic Ghost Hunters, and the GIW, all on his own. But no matter what he does, he is always seen as a Monster by the people of the town, just for being a Ghost.

Over the years he has lost a lot.

His Best Friend. His Mentor. His Mom.

Tucker was caught by the GIW and arrested for helping Phantom, and was never heard from again. His Parents still visit the Mayor's office for any word of him, but no one has any idea what happened.

Danny and Clockwork had a falling out after Danny refused to go down his intended path. He wanted to live his own life, one not predetermined by a Time God. Clockwork had told him that he would regret the decision, and left.

And his Mom had died after discovering his secret. She had surprisingly accepted him, but then the GIW had tried to capture him and she decided to defend him, and she got caught in the crossfire.

Every time Danny tried defending the people of Amity Park, he was vilified and hated even more. He would never be a Hero in their eyes, he was no Justice League. He had lost so much just defending them, but he couldn't bring himself to resent them, they didn't know what they were doing, it was how they were supposed to think. He still needed to defend them.

But he could no longer do so acting as the Hero.

Being a Hero stopped him from raiding the base that he assumed Tucker was being held in. Being a Hero led him to disagreeing with Clockworks advice. Being a Hero led to his Mom's death.

So he would be The Monster, instead.

[apathetik12]

Hot Take: Tom and Maddie are just Stobotnik if they weren’t evil and were instead domestically married.

People just don’t like them as much because they aren’t gay.

[transmascxielian]

something something something maddie as the symbol of the sweetest person in the system still being the system. right from the start to the end she was backing up authority and supporting the powers which were heading everyone to war for the sole purpose of maintaining their perspective of the status quo. and she did all of this with a smile on her face and a plucky new-girl-on-the-force attitude and was altogether one of the best examples in the show of how it doesnt matter how much you smile when you're pointing the gun at someone.

[keylimeart]

scott im so obsessed with your ex

[etherealily]

🄱🄻🄸🄽🄳🄵🄾🄻🄳🄴🄳 // Nate Jacobs.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. SFW, but discretion advised. Drugs.

⚠ Not entirely happy with this, so when I'm back online, I'll probably edit it. ⚠

But here, check out my other Nate fics. If you have the time.

(HC : Head Cheer. QB: Quarterback. EH : East Highland.)

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : His day one.

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June 2014, Freshman Year.

Nate had been pretty fucking sure he'd ace the tryouts for the football team. He was good and everyone fucking knew it. Him. His dad. Now, the issue was that East Highland was pretty fucking strict on their rule about no freshmen on the team unless they were Tom fucking Brady.

So, yeah. Last thirty minutes before the tryouts, he might have had a tiny fucking panic attack in the boys' locker rooms, palms in his face, strands of hair spewing between his fingers, knee bouncing - the whole shebang. No biggie.

And, of course he was careful not to create a rep around school that he was a pussy, or whatever, because he knew that no one else was as dedicated as he was to football (well, except that sophomore, McKay, who was already a shoo-in, and wouldn't come because the whole sophomore class was on some field trip) and hence, he'd be alone thirty whole minutes before tryouts.

That being said, he hadn't really done a Doctor Strange and calculated all the possibilities for stupid ass shit that could happen, seeing as you walked the fuck in, pom-poms and all, aggressively tapping on your phone, the dial tone on speaker as you looked up at the ceiling in frustration. "Pick the fuck up, pick the fuck up.", you'd been muttering under your breath. Voicemail.

"FUCK!"

The clang echoed throughout the lockers, intertwined with your yell.

You'd kicked the goddamn lockers. Something Nate would have only expected of himself. He jumped, and you finally noticed him. "How long you been fucking sitting there, creep?"

"Creep? You're the bitch in the boys' locker rooms!"

"You gonna kick me out?"

Okay, he was close to hyperventilating, a smartass lippy girl was the last thing he needed right now.

Scoffing, shook his head. "No. Knock yourself out. Literally. Keel over and die and shut up."

You'd flipped him off, he knew that, but he couldn't care right now.

"Wait, I fucking know you. Homeroom with Smith.", you mumbled, offhandedly.

"Well, fucking ace for you, man. Could you shut the fuck up?!"

You did, and he looked up, half-expecting you to have been looking at him hurt or tearing up, but you were back on your phone. That's when he noticed you were fucking trembling. Your phone was this close to falling.

"Yo, you good?", he asked, more out of annoyance than concern, but hey. He was being nice.

"How about you shut the fuck up?!", you retorted, the dial tone buzzing throughout the desolate locker room once more.

And, uh, yup, those were tremors. You were basically short-circuiting. "Uh, you really gotta sit down or something, you're two seconds away from blacking out or falling over."

Huffing, you plopped down opposite him, setting your phone down so hard, it was a miracle it didn't crack. Your knee bounced just like his, and you chewed on the inside of your bottom lip.

Clearly, he had to be the chill one here. Ugh.

Willing himself to look out at the window, the sun, the brightness, the birds-singing and all that bullshit to calm him down, he cleared his throat. "Homeroom with Smith, huh?" His voice was way more unsure than he'd wanted it to be.

Your eyes slowly moved from the fluorescent lights above him to his face. You nodded. "Bumped into you first day of school. Embarassing as hell."

Weird, what girls remember. He's tripped on air some twenty times in one day and you don't see him sitting here ages later, mortified about it.

"It's chill. My name's Nate."

"I'm Y/N."

"Nice to meet you.", he said, leaning over and extending his arm with exaggerated grunts of pain to make you laugh and chill the fuck out, and you met him halfway. "Likewise."

"I'm trying out for the football team. Being a rebel and whatnot."

"Oh, same. Not- not the football team. Cheer team. They don't accept freshmen, either, but I've, like, won gymnastics awards, so.", you shrugged.

"That's cool. I've been this jacked since I was twelve, so.", he grinned, mirroring your shrug. "Plus, I love football."

"I love cheer."

He curled his bottom lip down in acknowledgement. "Chill."

"They've all been here for an hour, intimidation-stretching, or whatever."

He raised both eyebrows in sheer surprise at that, thumbing behind him at the door. "The girls?" An hour?

You nodded. "Yeah. They're bitches."

"The fuck's intimidation-stretching?"

"Y'know, showing off their moves while, like, maintaining intense-eye-contact. To psych you out, or whatever."

"Oh, is that why you're so pressed? You're psyched out?"

"No. But they were outright makin' fun of me. So."

"Why, 'cause you're a freshman? That's bullshit. I doubt they even know how to spell gymnastics. Most of 'em are probably repeating twelfth grade.", he scoffed.

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. "So, are they all excluding you, too, or...?", you asked, glancing around at the empty locker room.

"Boys and girls are different. Your competition's been there for an hour. Mine won't be here till half a minute before the actual fucking tryouts."

"Wouldn't that make you a shoo-in? More dedication?"

He shook his head, bringing his knee onto the bench next to him, turning over to fix the laces on his cleats. "Doesn't work like that."

"Should."

He shrugged. "Lots of 'shoulds', y'know. None of them actually ever happen."

"What, like world peace?"

"Yeah, nah, fuck world peace."

"Careful, the UN will put a hit on you."

"I'll bomb 'em."

You snorted. "Sick."

He didn't exactly know what kind of 'sick' you meant, but something told him it was the kind that proved you shared his humour, maybe a bit.

Your phone dinged. "Fuck. Hey, our tryouts start in five, so."

"Chill. Break a leg."

"What?"

"Y'know, like good luck."

"That's for actors and musicians and shit. You and I better hope we don't break a leg.", you replied, accepting his fist-bump.

"Do well, then. You will. Good luck."

"You, too!", you called. "Thanks!"

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, now he had to go back to calming himself down without the diversion task of calming someone else down, too. Great.

~~

"Holy shit, Nate, holy shit, holy shit, holy--", you yelled, scampering hurriedly down the bleachers as he sprinted to you, catching you as you reached the last step, spinning you around. "Holy shit!"

"I know, I know, right?! They just let me in!", he exclaimed, setting you down. Neither of you had any idea what the fuck had just happened (panic-attack-trauma-bonding), but he didn't fucking care, too fucking exhilarated from his achievement to even think.

"Just? Dude, you were fucking bomb out there! You were like, fuckin' whizzing on the field, man!", you declared, punching his chest.

"How'd yours go?", he asked, trying to catch his breath from both the tryouts and the rush to the bleachers.

You zipped open your duffle, and he peered over into it. A flash of aquamarine. A fucking cheer uniform. "Let's fucking go!", he cheered, dapping you up. "What happened to the intimidation-stretching bitches?"

Thumbing to the other side of the field, you shrugged. "I'm definitely getting cyberbullied or something." Holy shit, those were some pissed off juniors.

"Yeah? That's how you know you won.", he laughed, rapping his fingers on his helmet, his eyes darting from it to you. "So, we're officially the coolest fucking freshmen ever."

"Yeah, it's like, officially EH lore now, for real."

"I'll see you out on the field, then? Once the season starts, in August?", he asked, slinging his bag onto his shoulder as you did the same with yours.

"Yeah, for sure. See you around, man."

He held out his fist, grinning when it met your own. "See you around."

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January 2016, last semester of Sophomore Year.

It was around this time that he'd met Maddy.

And he'd really fucking liked her.

His first ever girlfriend, and first ever love.

Or was she his first ever love? No, I mean, he loved her, but was she his first? Nah, you know what, no time for this bullcrap. You're not here for a psychoanalysis, no, you're here to watch his stupid decisions one by one by motherfucking one, like a cinema reel.

And sophomore year was one.

Look, he knew that to be a good boyfriend, kissing other girls was probably not a good idea. Loyalty and all that. It's the principle. But he couldn't just stop making out with you, I mean, you needed practice before going on your first date, and it's not like you could ask anyone else in this godforsaken school, now could you ( you didn't ask, but whatever. Irrelevant) ? No, he was the closest thing you had to a guy friend.

How'd it go, HC? Did you suck face?

No. He said he wants to go on a second date before all that.

He's a fairy.

What? Fuck you, man. Maybe he's just a gentleman.

Or maybe he just likes (gentle) men.

Put that wordplay into your English essays and maybe you'll beat me one day.

You bring up grades every time you lose an argument, it's fucking annoying.

Whatever, I got to get up and go to school tomorrow. Conduct cheer tryouts and whatever.

Night, HC.

Good night, QB.

See? It was actually weird how scared he was of Maddy finding his phone. Was it even flirting if he was just insulting you and letting you 'win' arguments half the time? No. It wasn't, so why was he worried Maddy might think it was? Maybe he was paranoid.

And yes, he could've just acquiesced once, instead of continuing to text you because he'd 'learnt a new move Maddy seemed to like', but it's the fucking considerate thing to do. What if the guy you were going out with whipped out some weird new thing with his tongue and you looked like an idiot? It's called friendship.

~~

"Oh, hey, I wanted to ask, you and Mads on or off again?", you asked, standing up to stretch, and then go on the same tour you always did around his room, when you were there for your blunt-sessions. His bedside, his dumbbells, his closet, his mirror, then back to him.

He scoffed as he lay down, patting the space next to him, that you thankfully filled. Gently stroking the hair on your forehead, he sighed, before taking a long drag of the joint. "Why? You need help? He's trying to take things to the next level or sm'n?"

"Yeah, but, like, Maddy's my friend now, you sure you can help me without it being weird?"

He didn't know why, but he didn't like the thought of his day-one calling someone else her friend. Rubbed him the wrong fucking way.

"Uh huh." He waved you off, putting it out. "It's cool. We're on a break, anyway. Okay, so second base.", he said, clapping his palms together as he sat up, gazing down at you, softly pushing you to lay back down. "Usually, he'll do a little something like - move your hair to the side for me, yeah, there we go - something like this...", he murmured, his lips dancing gently across your jugular vein before he seamlessly began lowering them to your clavicle. "And he'll probably get a little bit of this action.", he added, his hand fondling your breast over your clothes. "He might unclasp your bra if he's feeling confident, but that's more third base stuff, so I wouldn't worry about it."

"What if he does, though?"

"You can say 'stop'. As long as he isn't a rapist creep, then you're solid."

"He isn't. He's really nice."

"Ew, bro, are you blushing?", he mock-gagged, tossing a pillow at your face and sitting back on his heels as he lit up another doobie.

"Look, he's really nice, like, gentleman-type. I'm just grateful my first-ever boyfriend isn't a total dickwad."

He leaned over and nudged your foot with his elbow, watching you chuckle from the opposite edge of the bed. "No, seriously, why not just become official, if you're fine letting him feel you up? Is he someone super ugly? Like, social-suicide-level-ugly? Come on, who is it?"

"Shut up, I'm not telling you."

"Wow, okay, yeah, no, for sure. Not like I've been your best fucking friend since freshman fucking year.", he scoffed, doing his best to look hurt as he reached for his phone.

"Hey, hey, that's not fair!"

His phone buzzed. "Yo, that's probably Maddy, you should--"

"Don't change the fucking subject."

His phone rang, this time.

"Did your voice just go deeper?", you giggled, after he was done. Yeah, the weed was definitely hitting you like a freight train. He wasn't too far behind.

"Oh, fuck off.", he snorted, tossing another pillow at you.

And that was pretty much it. You never spoke of it again.

In fact, weirdly, you never spoke again, for rest of the year.

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June 2016, First Semester of Junior Year.

There comes a time in every girl's life where the guys in her life just do a full 180 and become absolute dicks in every sense of the word. They ghost you, or they bully you, or they start being overtly sexist around and to you. Now, the issue was that Nate was really fucking classy about it. So he wasn't uncouth or rude or anything, but the texts stopped.

With him now being official with Maddy, it had seemed the best way to ease his own conscience and make sure both of you had a smooth junior and senior year.

Now, the two of you had never been all BFF-goals during the first two years of school, aside from the sporadic text message you'd exchanged off the field. So, no, you didn't really care that the texts stopped - hell, you barely noticed. You had your own shit going on. Mutinies in the squad, favoritism from Coach to you, rumours of favoritism from you - the head cheer - to certain members, it was all confusion.

And, to top it all off, first home game of the season? You got sick.

A little rundown of EH football tradition. Home games are the best. Home games mean pep rallies. Pep rallies mean running through the cafeteria, jumping on tables while the cheerleaders hype them up. Slight problem. Nate had been under the impression that cheering couldn't happen without the head cheer.

Again, you couldn't particularly call him a friend in public because you'd get branded a slut quicker than you could shake your little pom-poms and if he called you a friend, he'd 100% lose face in front of the whole school quicker than he'd usurped the previous team captain in his freshman fucking year.

That being said, he wasn't one for unfairness.

And that's why he frowned when Coach asked him why in the hell he was getting his lunch instead of huddling up with the team for the pep rally. "Isn't that tomorrow?"

"When the hell did I tell you it was tomorrow, son, huh?"

"The head cheer's not here."

"So? Her deputy's there. What do I care if she isn't here? Go on, get."

Sure, games happen without the captain of the team, but they're usually crappy, and Coaches tend to postpone them. He'd figured that would be the same for a cheer squad, but apparently you being sick hadn't meant shit to the rest of your "team"?!

He thought that was bullshit, honestly. It was probably Christmas morning for the people you'd beat out and then graciously allowed into the squad this year. And then, Nate did something real fuckin' stupid. He listened to himself.

And somehow, his thoughts had led him to the grave conclusion that they'd been behind your sick leave of absence that day. Coughing on you or something, how should he know, he wasn't a fucking doctor.

And so, yeah, he may have tripped the bitches - whosever face he remembered, at least - who'd made fun of you and then somehow induced your illness, in the middle of the cafeteria.

"What the fuck, Jacobs?!"

"What? That shit was an accident! Like we don't have it worse out on the field. Suck it up, cheer, honestly."

Yeah, he'd gotten benched from that weekend's home game. Not for long, though, the team was dying without him, so Coach pulled him in barely two plays after benching him, which was fucking great.

What wasn't fucking great was that now Coach - and subsequently, the rest of the team - knew that he cared about who the fuck you were. None of the other guys here even knew there was a head cheer, much less who she was and why she was absent.

And now, you were unnecessarily on every one of his teammate's radars. The EH football team operated on a if-she-fucked-one-of-us-we're-all-her-type-basis.

What's worse, no one even told you about what Nate had done.

So, to recap, you didn't know why you were suddenly getting attention from the football team, and you also didn't know why Nate was suddenly watching you in the hallways, scrutinizing every interaction of yours.

You didn't know anything.

You were going into this blindfolded.

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December 2016, Last Semester of Junior Year

"Yo, HC!"

No fucking way!

Your head whipped around, and he was there, grinning, all teeth and chewing gum with his arms out wide as if you were supposed to jump into them. Hopping off the bus-stand-bench, you jogged over to him (not jumped, jogged), dropping your bags before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder so he could scratch his knuckles on your scalp.

He practically squeezed you, spinning you around the same way as the bleachers after your joint-crowning as the coolest fucking freshmen ever. "It's been, like, decades !"

"What are you doing here?"

"Maddy wanted me to pick her up - she had to stay after-school for something, I dunno - but she changed her mind last minute, she's going home with Cassie. So I'm just here. Walkin' around. Lookin' for the coolest junior HC in EH lore."

You laughed, and he squinted up at the sky, then down at his watch. "You need a ride? A real fucking ride, not some ten year old's wet dream of a joyride.", he scoffed, glaring at the bus-stand.

'Ride' being code for either E or blow.

You were wiped. Cheer tryouts take a lot out of you, especially when it's hot as fuck and some extremely untalented people start beef with you because they think you've rejected them just to be a bitch. Since morning, you've been sitting with Coach, working through batch after batch. And the new kids - they were the fucking worst.

And so, yeah, you abandoned your stupid ass bus ticket to go do weed with the QB of the team you cheered for.

Who wouldn't?

~~

"So why did Maddy just ditch you?"

"She didn't ditch me.", he reminded, watching you take a long drag of the blunt from his peripheral. "She said she forgot she had a sleepover at Cassie's."

"Yeah, I figured she might wanna celebrate with her, first.", you muttered, offhandedly. Nate almost screamed.

"Celebrate what?" As far as he knew, it was nowhere close to either Maddy's or Cassie's birthday.

"She didn't text you yet?", you asked, sitting up and resting your elbows on your knees.

"About what?"

"She made the cheer squad today. They both did."

He had to sit up for that one. "She tried out for the cheer squad?"

He vividly remembered telling her not to. He didn't like extraneous variables, and you and her being in close proximity definitely was one.

"She made the cheer squad."

"You approved it? What, as, like, a favour to me, or some shit?"

You snorted, leaning over to place the blunt on his lips which he took a drag of, before tapping your nose and taking the whole thing from you. He was gonna need a couple more puffs, that was for sure. "I approved it because she's really fucking good."

"Uh huh."

"I'm serious."

"Yeah?", he grumbled, blowing a bubble with his gum before chewing it again.

"She didn't tell you she was trying out? Fuck, maybe she wanted it to be a surprise, and I fucked it up."

"No, she's just a bitch when she wants to be."

"Lay off her, man, you know she's too good for you."

He really couldn't argue with that. But he'd sure as fuck try. "In what way? We're soulmates or whatever."

"Aren't soulmates supposed to give you peace?"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he flicked your forehead. "How's it going with you and fairy-guy?"

"Good, weirdly. He's sweet. And that wasn't a line, he really did want to get to know me before any of the first base stuff."

"So you're, like, you guys are a thing now?", he asked, smoke enveloping his view of the ceiling.

"Why's your room so boring, bro? Like, it's... it's all one colour."

"Uh, no, there's grey, there's white, there's black.", he retorted, clearing his throat as he crossed his legs, watching you run your finger over his dumbbells. "No, seriously, you guys fucked yet?"

"Nate!"

"What?", he chuckled, shrugging as he grunted, getting up to kneel on the bed. "I'm just saying. On-and-off be damned. You can't just stop at second base. You gotta let him in you."

"You're gross.", you muttered, moving to his closet before he stopped you. "Gross? Gross?", he scoffed, grabbing your arm and pulling you to kneel on the bed with him. "You're a prude. I bet you don't even know how it works.", he said, blowing some smoke - and some wisps of your hair away - at your face.

"I do, too, know how it works."

"Sure, the mechanics. What goes where. But if I asked you how it felt?"

"I know how it feels."

"I swear to god, man, you're gonna start listing off the hormones involved in sex and I'm going to get a fucking aneurysm.", he replied, brushing the hair he'd just blown out of place back into place.

"Fine, then you tell me how it feels. Mister-Seventeen-Year-Old-Sex-Expert--"

If there was a camera like in The Office, he'd have smirked into it. It's funny you thought you would get to finish that sentence with how fucking blitzed he was. Naïve, more like.

"Maddy really fucking loved this one.", he groaned against your lips, sitting back on the bed and bringing you down on top of him. "You should try it with fairy-guy."

"Which one?"

"The thing I'm about to do with my tongue. Just wait."

See, tiny problem. He'd been so focused on actually getting you to agree to make out with him for the first time in a fucking long time (so much for ignoring you out of guilt) that he hadn't exactly thought of what 'new thing' he was going to show you when he did.

"Hey! Whoa!"

"What? This is still second base!", he murmured, his lips now on your collarbone, his hand gently unclasping your bra.

"I thought third base was, like, French-kissing."

"Any kind of kissing is first base. God, I have so much to teach you, young Padawan."

His phone buzzed. Ugh. "Yo, Nate, that's probably Maddy, you should-- Nate. Come on. We're high.", you reminded, and he nearly fucking hit you, rolling his eyes as he watched you get off his lap and hand him his phone.

"What, Maddy? Uh-huh, yeah, I know, I heard. I bumped into Y/N, and she told me. Yeah. We're gonna talk about this shit later. Yeah, I'm real fucking happy for you, did you forget what we talked about? I said don't try out for- yeah? Then why the fuck--? No, no, don't make this into some feminist issue-- right, okay, listen, I'm out right now, I'll call you later."

He sighed as he set his phone down and looked at you, a fucking vision. Yeah, probably not the best idea, fucking you right now.

He had to do that fully conscious.

"Who is fairy-guy? You realise he's basically your Maddy, right? On-and-off, pushing you to your fucking limit?"

You rolled your eyes, flipping him off as you stretched.

"Come on. Who am I gonna tell?"

"Everyone!"

He guffawed, rolling his eyes and pressing his lips to your temple as he busied his fingers with your hair again. "C'mon."

"You're not gonna tell anyone, alright?"

"Cross my heart."

"Say the next part."

"Jeez- cross my heart and hope to die. You want a pinky promise next?"

"Yeah, actually. We're keeping it low-key, and I can't have you spreading it all around."

Huffing magnanimously, he gripped your pinky with his, both of you kissing your own fists as you did. "Alright. This guy better be the Pope or some shit."

"It's Christopher McKay."

If he hadn't already been sitting down, he'd have fainted. "What the fuck?! McKay!?"

"Yeah, why? You regret the whole fairy-guy comment now, don't you?"

"I mean, he isn't a fairy, definitely not. But, y'know, I- nah, never mind. Whatever. Good for you guys.", he muttered, pulling your face into his chest as he squeezed you tighter.

Okay, maybe that was the tiniest bit manipulative. No one gives a shit, shut up. Three, two, one...

"But what?"

There it is. He smiled against the top of your hair.

"But nothing. He's my homie. I can't fuck this up for him."

"And what? I'm not?", you asked, pulling away from his chest. "Tell me!" He had to hold your wrists together to make sure you didn't accidentally uppercut him.

"It's just... y'know, he's like, nice and all.", he cleared his throat. He was such an asshole. He shouldn't be talking his friend down. Fuck! "The nice guys are usually the fake ones. The ones that only want one thing."

"You're telling me McKay's like that?"

"I mean, he could've changed, but that's... we can't judge people on their worst mistakes."

He was going to hell.

You shifted, biting your lip unsurely as you sat up to put out the blunt, and then stared at his wall in thought, your arms around your knees.

"What? You're giving him the benefit of doubt?"

You shrugged. "I don't--"

"Wow. Right. Noted. Okay."

Shaking your head, you sat up, looking down at him. "Don't do that."

"Do what?", he grumbled.

"Take everything so personal."

"How else am I fucking supposed to take it when you're basically choosing McKay's words over mine?"

"One year, man, a whole year, and he hasn't done anything--"

"Three years, and I haven't done anything to hurt you!"

You went silent at that, and he shuffled up onto his elbows, moving some hair to nestle behind your ear. "Have I?"

Please don't bring up the ghosting, please don't bring up the ghosting.

"Well... no."

"You need to talk about this shit beforehand, man. Maddy and I did."

"Right, like your relationship isn't the 10th circle."

"I know you and I know him. Who's better to mediate? Next time we're all together, we'll talk this shit out, okay?"

Shut up, alright? Maybe he's changed. Maybe he really wanted to fix you and McKay up!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

January 2017, New Year's, last semester of Junior Year.

The door slammed, and you flinched, closing your eyes momentarily.

"Yo, you wanna explain that shit out there?"

"What?"

"He just fucking kissed you."

"That's what boyfriends do. Go do some of that with Maddy, your relationship issues will be solved."

"I'm just saying, maybe you should hold off on the PDA until you sort shit out between yourself. Isn't that why I'm here? Ignoring the fact you didn't even trust me enough to tell me McKay was fairy-guy!"

"And how does Maddy feel about that? Does she even know?"

"Like McKay knows we're friends?"

"Yeah, he does! I got nothing to hide!"

Silence. Then, "That's why he glared at me when he kissed you."

"He didn't do shit, you're delusional! Alright?! Not every fucking thing is about you! It's always about you! God, you don't deserve her, you know?"

"You shut the fuck up about Maddy and me, okay?!", he cried, taking a swig from his bottle before placing it with a clink on the counter.

He was growing louder and coming closer. Oh, this absolute brotard!

"Then you shut the fuck up about McKay and me!"

He glared at you for a minute. "You're pissing me off! Fuck! You've been doing this shit all season, I came to this stupid fucking party to chill out, and here you are, messing with me again!"

"How the fuck am I messing with you, fucktard?! We haven't even spoken in--"

"You know, you're really fucking with me right now?! Really fucking getting on my last goddamn nerve!", he continued, jaw clenched as his fingers grabbed your jaw, digging into your cheeks.

"You're gonna have to leave me the fuck alone, from now, okay?!"

"And what's with unfollowing me? What- loyalty to your boyfriend? What the fuck's that bullshit about?!", he scoffed, ignoring you completely, blatantly. "After everything I've done for you?!"

"Like what?! Teaching me how to kiss?! Huh? Or feeling me up and pretending like that was you helping me?"

Oh, fuck. McKay had been telling you the same shit about Nate as Nate had about McKay. Fair. Karma.

"Hey, fuck you, that was me helping you! You think I'd want to feel you up, huh? Or fuck you?!", he screamed, and you were pretty sure with how hard his thumbs were pressing, you'd wake up with dimples the next morning.

"Yeah, actually! I think you're a fucking creep, yeah, I think you'd want to, 100%!"

His glare shifted almost imperceptibly from your eyes, pooled with rage and a mild hint of fear, to your lips, and before you noticed it, he'd already come crashing down on them.

One thing was clear from the kiss. Nate Jacobs no longer thought you were a good friend. In fact, he probably fucking hated you. This was a hate-kiss, and usually, they're far, far better than the ones given by people who you love (and who love you).

It was now your turn to grip his jaw, and you had to pry him off you. You glared at him for a moment, breathless and pissed, before you shook your head. "Get your shit together, Jacobs! I really like McKay."

He nodded, earnestly. "And I really love Maddy."

And then he was on you again, hands unsure where the fuck to go, but sure that they had to hold you right fucking there. So one of them was on your shoulder, grip so tight you'd be close to buckling if the other one hadn't been on your rear, gluing you to him.

"Yeah, Maddy! She's one of my best friends!", you yelled, and he shrugged.

"McKay's one of my best friends."

Simple as that. You had no fucking idea what that was supposed to prove, or state, but there he was, on your lips again, yanking you back against him as his fingers groped for the doorknob behind him.

Click.

No fucking way this piece-of-shit-disgrace-to-humanity thought you were gonna fuck him in a party bathroom.

"I don't think so!", you scoffed, shoving him away. "Fuck off, Nate, seriously! You have got to stop drinking, man."

"Would you break up with McKay if I broke up with Maddy?"

"Huh- what, no!"

"If I promised to love and cherish you and all that bullshit, would you?"

"Are you jealous?"

It's a quiet question, because raising your voice when asking him something that accusatory is a death sentence. You're lucky you stepped back, because he'd have lunged at you, right then, right there.

"Of what? Fucking you? You and McKay? No, you pansies deserve each other!"

"Could you put that shit down, for fuck's sake?!", you screamed, and he nodded, taking the last swig before throwing it on the floor, where it rattled weakly by your feet. "Alright, listen, you're switching up on me, Nate, real fast, and it's confusing. You wanna love and cherish me one second, and I'm a pansy the next?"

"Listen, I'm hammered, yeah? Don't- don't put too much stock into what I say."

Was he... was he trembling?

"Okay. You wanna… you want some space, to like, recover? Can I go?"

"Could you not?"

Fuck. You'd hoped he'd kick you out.

"Please?"

"Yeah, okay, okay, chill, I'll stick around."

"Thank you." Ew, that was so foreign out of his mouth, you had to do a double-take.

And then he did something devastatingly worse than kissing you. He hugged you, the same way he'd hugged you when you two were fourteen and coming fresh off the accomplishment of breaking East Highland's no-freshman-on-any-team-rule. His nose in your hair, his arms around your back, your hands in the back of his hair. Yeah, it was an extremely cheap replica of that moment. No bleachers, a goddamn party bathroom.

He breathed against your ear, the rate of it increasing as he tugged you closer, doing his best to merge himself to you. "You're gonna have to stop being nice to me, or I'm going to leave my girlfriend for you." It came out as a whisper, an afterthought, an uncertainty.

You snorted, stroking the hair at his nape once more. "Yeah, sure, I'll just be a cunt."

"You can't do that, either. You seen me and Maddy? Pisses me off. And anger just turns me on, clearly. "

"Indifference, then? That's what you want from me?"

"I just want you to be there, okay?"

"What, like a backup? You and Maddy are on a break, and you get to stick your tongue in my throat?"

"You'd keep me in check, y'know?", he grumbled, kissing your cheek in the most genuinely friendly way possible. "I wouldn't go around fucking random whores."

"Only you, Nate, could justify this shit."

"Come on, HC, you know you love me."

You did not love Nate. You just couldn't love him when he was here so pathetically, clinging onto you like he'd made nothing but a series of mistakes in his whole life, and you were the only thing that wasn't one of them.

"You need me to help you sober up? I could get you water. Bread, to soak up the liquor."

"I just need you."

Great, he was being cute, now. Fucking ace.

Ugh. What a disgusting thing to say. After ghosting you, acting like he was better than you?

But then, he was muttering things that, if you'd heard them right, almost sounded like he was saying he'd missed you, and you weren't so sure.

"Hey, whoa, Nate--"

And then you felt like a cunt, because his face looked like the first time you'd seen him. In fact, it was exactly the same as the first time you'd seen him. Jesus. He wasn't panic-attacking on you, was he? He trembled once more, and then you realised, yes, he was.

Not just on you.

About you.

Which was just fucking great.

"Homeroom with Smith, huh?", you mumbled against his temple.

He nodded. "I bumped into you. Embarrassing as hell."

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September 2018, Senior Year.

By your senior year, McKay had moved on to college (and Cassie Howard), and you were actually kind of enjoying life. Sure, the odd jock who thought you'd fucked both Nate and McKay asked you out, but hey. You were still free to say no. What could he do? Blackmail you with nudes you'd never given out, or sex tapes you'd never filmed?

"Thank you, girl, fuck!", squealed Taylor, a freshman (who, like you, had also won gymnastics awards, making you feel a very fucking full-circle, Disney-movie-type-feeling) hugging you as tight as possible without you ending up asphyxiated. "I didn't think I'd make it!"

"You're really fucking good, freshie, c'mon. You'd have made it, either way. Welcome to the squad.", you laughed, handing her the cheer uniform.

"I'm gonna look so fucking sexy in this."

"Yeah, you probably will, yeah.", you nodded, chuckling as she waved.

Your cheer coach high-fived you as you shut the gymnasium doors and took down the sign for 'Cheer Tryouts'. "So, we got, what, three new girls? That's good. Great, even."

"Whoa, no, we got two. Taylor Kingsley and Carmen Adams, this year."

"Oh. We need one more. The formation we have planned for this year needs an overall even number."

"Wildcard? Call one of the graduated cheerleaders? Someone from, uh, Chris McKay's batch, maybe?"

"Could work.", she muttered, thoughtfully. "I'll see if we can change it up or add an extra base or flyer in the middle or something. We'll get back to you. Stay online, okay?"

"Yes, Coach."

You slung your bag onto your shoulders as you trudged out to the bus-stand in front of the school. The late, 4-O'clock- sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the nostalgic feeling that comes with being a senior was ringing through you.

And you should have just gone straight home from there. But, uh. Something came up.

Long time, HC. How you been?

Yeah, good, QB. You?

I'm fine. 🍃? My place in 5?

Fuck. First thing this guy texts you in a whole two academic years and it's asking you to get wasted. Fucking hell. It was so unbelievably Nate, you had to laugh.

Can't in 5. Maybe in 10. Need to get home and change.

Bet. See you.

Did you even really wanna go was the question. You were wiped, once again. You'd had back-to-back double gym in the morning, then two pop quizzes and then cheer practice, then you and Coach had to conduct cheer tryouts.

Wait, did you just give yourself reasons to go get high with your day-one? Yeah. Fuck.

Talk about full-circle.