#Verse: Blast from the Past

[stealingpotatoes]

Not sure if this has been asked or not, but how would canon Luke and Leia react to meeting your au versions of them?

omg I'VE BEEN WANTING TO MAKE AN INTO THE LUKE-AND-LEIA-VERSE FOR AGES thank you for kicking me into doing it

(donation doodles! // tip jar)

[eidetictelekinetic]

Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

Tagged by @freneticfloetry and @wingedflight

Most Hits: The Lady of Rivers and Storms [ASOIAF]

When Lysa miscarries Petyr's child before anyone learns of her pregnancy, her father negotiates a different marriage for her instead. Married to the second Baratheon son, will the future be any easier for either of them?

Second Most Kudos: Breaking Out the Institution [Suits]

“OK, so, before we start, a few things you should know about me. My name’s Mike Ross, not Rick Sorkin. I am a lawyer, I just didn’t go to Harvard. But you should hear me out anyway.” Where Mike is actually a lawyer, a Brooklyn ADA looking for a change of pace, and gatecrashes Harvey's interviews entirely on purpose.

Third Most Comment Threads: We'll Ride (In the Gathering Storm) [ASOIAF]

When Jon Arryn dies, King Robert rides for Winterfell as secrets brew on Dragonstone and in the Eyrie. Meanwhile, the last Targaryens gain not one but four sworn shields as Daenerys prepares to wed Khal Drogo, and three of them carry secrets behind their Valyrian eyes. Or, A Game of Thrones in the Iron and Silk universe.

Fourth Most Bookmarks: Lay Me Down (Pockets Full of Stones) [The Magicians]

The world spins, and Quentin doesn’t even feel his knees buckle, or how his head hits the wall on the way down. All he knows is the fall into the quiet dark. In which Quentin survives the events of 4.13 by taking such bad care of himself he never actually makes it to the Mirror Realm. Also in which everyone loses him for a day, and Eliot is Not Happy about this.

Fifth Most Words: If I Could Fall Into the Sky [The Magicians]

Quentin survives the blast in the Mirror Realm, but at the cost of half his leg. In the aftermath, he's sent off to recover, but the thing is, he's not sure if anyone is really going to want him to come back now. As for Eliot? Well, first he has to find out what actually even happened. But even once they straighten themselves out, the consequences of magic are more complicated than they expected.

Fewest Words: Winter's Ghost, Storm's Lady [ASOIAF]

It's a relief, to ride south and marry the nephew of the Southron King.

Tagging: @mihrsuri @ofthedirewolves @beanarie @lupismaris

[azukilynn]

[abysmal-black]

(@pxison - reg. Snooj suffering begins now 😈) There was a current of giddiness running through Niji as he sought after the blonde runt. So much time had been lost between his disappearance and reunion with the rest of the family that Niji was all too eager to make up for. In his clutches was an all too familiar helmet. This time resized to fit the cooks head should it be reapplied for old times sake. No matter where Sanji hid himself, he could never truly get away from any of his brother's torment. The sickening grin Niji was wearing only grew when he finally found the little scumbag and the helmet within his possession was presented in full view as though he took pride in all the memories it held. “Remember this Sanji? Those pretty little bracelets you're wearing are nice and all, but I thought you'd look even better in this. Doesn't it take you back? Why don't we both go down memory lane, I'm sure the other two would like to join in as well for old times sake.”

Contentment is long gone, all Sanji can hope for is silence. Being left alone with his own thoughts is preferable to his twin's company and for the most part they've left him alone. No longer is he the small boy that can't defend himself, begging for his sires help to call off the dogs he called brothers. It would be empowering if the mental scars didn't ache. Everything is the same, almost untouched by time in the years he's been absent. There is some sliver of solace that his mother's grave is kept tidy, her ghost not wandering these dreary halls.

It's in the cathedrals that the chef spends most of his time, beauty and color rare on Germa. Inside hallowed walls it almost seems like another place, foot traffic kept low and thick walls drowning out the drone of combat drills and weapons testing. It's as serene of a hideaway he can hope for and passes most of his time with a book of napping in the pulpit for privacy.

Today however, he's been found out.

Niji is loud as usual, any attention good attention. Sanji makes a point to not even glance up at the man as he nears, neatly rolled joint maneuvered to the other corner of his mouth and page turned. Whatever he wants isn't good but the cook feigns an air of nonchalant hoping he'll leave.

Curiosity sets him on edge; there are very few things his twin could be referring to and single viable eye opens fully. Why would they still have that thing? Throat clenches suddenly dry, anxiety crawling up his neck like a cold towel. He knows what it is without looking, can still feel the weight of heavy steel closed around his skull and panic grips his heart. Can hear the painful thumping in his burning ears of racing heart. Knows if he doesn't act know Niji will push the matter and after all these years Sanji can't go back. He can't survive the cell, the mask, this place. Are his hands worth his sanity? If they are gone would his kidnappers find him useless again?

“Fuck off.” It's meek where he wants to growl. “I'm not in the mood.” He's never in the mood and fingers turn another page. “Get lost or I'll fillet you.” This time his voice doesn't crack, the treat very real even if it's carried by bravado.

[deathinfeathers]

“Stop being so hard on yourself” (double feature -dabs-)

Slumped against the broad expanse of his chest like the beloved pet cat she sometimes likes to think that she is (sans the characteristic rumble of contentment his presence tends to elicit) she cradles a freshly bandaged hand to her chest, lips pinched in a sulky sort of scowl.

"I am allowed! I should not be making stupid blunders like that at this point in my life!"

She's lucky Adam hadn't been around to watch her slice her palm open during this morning's training session. Something she had given him no small amount of grief over when he fumbled with his axe and injured himself in a similar manner several hundred years ago. She'd never hear the end of it.

[badnikbreaker]

@gonchayas : ❝  wait,  stop you’re bleeding.  ❞ / for kit

"O - Oh!" Oh, they are! They didn't even feel it, so used to pain that new hurts don't register. A hand presses to their chest and comes back slick and red and there's still no aching. Kit smiles, briefly, then frowns, expression twisting into something frightened. Oh. Oh, no, he — "Oh! I'm s - sorry, sir! I promise, i - it's nothing!"

Surge is far from him. Konstantyn is strong. THAT MAKES KONSTANTYN GOD, AND KIT KNOWS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU CAN'T SERVE GOD.

"Please don't be angry! I can keep serving you, no matter my wounds! I can't be killed, so d - don't worry about me!" Not worry about me as in CARE FOR ME, BE CONCERNED FOR ME — worry about me as in DOUBT MY ABILITY TO FIGHT FOR YOU, THROW ME ASIDE OR HURT ME BECAUSE I'M TOO DAMAGED TO BE OF USE. His hands raise / he smiles, weak and trembling / a bloodthirsty monster and a child terrified of harm. A TOOL MEANT FOR KILLING, AND A LITTLE BOY.

Maybe it's familiar. Maybe it's not. Kit curls into themself, just barely. Smaller, like they can disappear that way. A broken tool is useless. KONSTANTYN CAN'T THINK KIT'S BROKEN. "I'm still a v - very effective fighter, even wounded, so — I can still be o - of use, I promise!"

[theothervonkarmagirl]

🎧 (I pick Clara but if you're feelin' anyone else I'm game :D)

Send a 🎧 and I will put my music on shuffle, then write a starter based on a lyric from the first song that plays

Song: "Paris is Burning" by Ladyhawke

It was a hot summer night in the city. Clara had accompanied Yusuke to a festival. Young and old, partygoers surrounded them, weaving past. The humid air, the miasma of smells, and the thundering music all blended together into an intoxicating haze for a young girl free of supervision.

Speaking of intoxication, how many beers had Yusuke had? Every time she looked at him, he had a new cup!

"Give me your glass, it's your last. You're too wasted!"

It was ironic, as she was the one to usually have too much at these things. It seemed the tides were turning!

[gyuswhore]

How seventeen would wake you up in the morning

masterlist

Seungcheol: yells. from every corner of the house. gives up when you don't budge after an hour and simply knocks out beside you

Jeonghan: pushes you off the bed after you refuse to get up at his first call. "oops"

Joshua: tries to serenade you awake. has to shake you between verses to get you to actually open your eyes.

Jun: classic wooden spoon to metal pot lid. nearly ends up single.

Soonyoung: raps fergalicious into a karaoke mic

Wonwoo: "it's past noon". its 8 am.

Jihoon: wakes you up suspiciously fresh 6 am. "why're you awake?" "why wouldn't I be its 6 am" he never went to bed

Seokmin: puts his ringer on full blast and lets it bludgeon your eardrums

Mingyu: those vibrating alarms that have you waking up thinking your under attack. he sleeps through the carnage.

Minghao: pulls you to a sitting position before you can even register being conscious.

Seungkwan: his lifelong ambition to hit a G10 begins in the shower. you wish he'd pick something else to do at 5 in the morning.

Vernon: gives up after the second try. confused why your upset when you wake up at 3 pm with a bone to pick with him.

Chan: tries to bribe you with breakfast. physically drags you by the ankles when his patience runs thin.

[vivian-pascal]

Like a Prayer

dbf!joel x f!reader

summary: Since you last saw Joel, he's been on your mind nonstop. You just can't get him out of your head. You miss him, and sure enough he misses you. So, you both plan something and decide to play a little game. (part two to Summer Love)

warnings: age gap, teasing, f!masturbating, dancing, fluff, piv (wrap it up) hand job, lil bit of sub!joel, joel cums fast, fingering, breast play, joel's dirty mouth, bit of feelings, breeding thoughts, lap grinding, description of what reader wears, reader is on birth control, aftercare

"Ugh!" You slam your head against your bedroom door for the five thousandth time today. You just can't take it anymore. He's everywhere. The last time you saw him, you barely got to say good bye to him and you haven't seen him since.

Yes, he texts you, but that only makes it worse. He sends you the most teasing and crude messages that just make you yearn for him harder. It's been horrible, let alone for Joel.

He dreams about you almost every night. The sweet moans you let out for him, the touch of your soft fingertips on his rough body, the way you moved and whispered sighs into his ear.

He is so uncontrollably in love with you. Love? Love is something he'd never be in again. Especially with his best buds daughter, who, not to mention, is at least a good twenty years younger than him.

Your blasting 'As long as you love me' by the backstreet boys on loop and your dad keeps coming upstairs to check on you and see if you're mentally okay.

He cracks open the door and sees you with your forehead resting on the wall and your arms hanging down. "You alright honey?"

You turn your head and nod. You look back down at the ground and sigh loudly. "That doesn't sound like you're okay, sweetie." He walks over to you and turns the volume down on your radio.

You stand up and lift your head from the wall. "What are you doing?" He looks at you with confusion and a sarcastic look on his face. "Turning the volume..down?"

"No, dad, turn it back up." You cross your arms and give him a death stare. He only looks back at you and crosses his arms too. If you want to play, he'll play too. "No."

"And why not?" You quirk your eyebrow waiting for his 'good' reason on why he should turn your music down.

"Because, honey, i've been hearing that song on blast and loop, for the past, let me see." He lifts his arm up and checks his watch. "Two hours, and I can probably sing every single verse to that song. So, I think you should take a break from the music, or play a different tune."

You look at him with shock. How dare he? If he doesn't like The Backstreet Boys or that song, then he can go away. You were doing just fine with that song on blast and loop for the past two hours and he just ruined it.

"Or, I keep the song on, and keep it on blast for another two hours." You give him a sweet smile as you turn the volume back up, grab his arm and lead him to the door, pushing him out and shutting the door in his face.

You smile at your good work and go back to the spot on your wall. Listening to the lyrics and singing them in your head. Dreaming of Joel and only wishing he were here with you right now.

Just as your about to bang your head on the wall for another couple hours, your phone pings and you instantly go over and grab it. It's Joel.

Hey sugar

hi joel

Whatcha up too?

oh, you know, the usual

You set your phone down and plump onto your bed. You haven't seen Joel in so long its making you go insane. When you hear the ping from your phone, you read the message and your face goes red.

Hm, let me think, the usual, as in your knuckles deep in that sweet, creamy pussy thinking about me huh? Oh darlin'. Can't wait to just devour you whole once again, you taste so sweet f'me sugar, man you make me hard.

You slowly put your phone down, grab a pillow, and scream as loud as you possibly can. He can't make this anymore worse for you can he.

You stare at your phone as you rest your head on the pillow. You look at the message and read it over and over again. Your hand slowly tracing circles around your torso and then into the waistband of your underwear.

You circle your clit softly and sigh at the feeling. You imagine Joel as you soak in the feeling of pleasure.

You think back to when he had you pinned against the bathroom door while he shoved his face into your pussy. The feeling of his nose, his mouth, the way his tongue moved so perfectly. The scratch of his beard on your thighs. His hair, tugging it and hearing him groan into your core.

You arch your back as you begin to rub your clit faster. Sticking a finger into your pussy as you whimper at the feeling.

You just wish it were him doing this. His big, calloused hands would run along your beautiful frame, his fingers would go deep into your core and fill you up just right. He'd praise you like no other. Filling your ears with pure filth.

Your mouth goes agape as you come. Imagining Joel on top of you, resting his sweet little head on your shoulder as he pounded you to death.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You remove your hand from your panties and grab your phone.

"Sweetie?" Your dad calls from downstairs. "Yeah dad?" You open the texts from Joel and begin to type one up. "I'm going out with Todd and Jim, I'll be gone for about four hours, we're goin to a bar alright?" You smile cheekishly as you send your message. "Yeah, bye dad have fun! Love you!" You hear the door shut and you smile as fireworks go off in your head.

dads going out, come over now please

Desperate I see, I'm on my way babygirl.

You roll your eyes as you read his message. You get up and look out your window to make sure your dad is really gone. You then go out into your closet and pick your outfit.

You go with a skimpy, white dress that cuts off at the knees and a cute white bow in your hair. You smile as you twirl in the mirror.

You hear a knock on the door and immediately rush downstairs. You quickly make sure your dress looks good and fix your hair as you open the door. And there he is, in all his glory, Joel miller.

You gasp when you see him. It's been so long, too long. He smirks down at you. He's wearing his same old pair of jeans and a flannel.

"Well hello darlin'. Been quite some time." He grins as he sees your flustered state. You look him in the eyes with desperation and grab him by the collar. Pulling him into your face and smashing your lips together.

He stumbles as he walks inside with you and shuts the door. You let go of his lips and release his collar as you start to unbutton it. "Woah, woah, I didn't know you were this desperate hon, I would've come over a whole lot earlier."

You death stare him as you get on your knees and run a hand over his bulge. He groans and closes his eyes at the feeling. You throw off his flannel and unzip his jeans. He takes off his shoes and turns around to put them in the corner, when he looks back, his mouth drops.

Your there, in nothing but the sweet, little bow in your hair and your panties. His jaw tightens as he walks towards you and grabs your hips.

"Well don't you just look so yummy." You giggle as you smirks down at you. You walk over to the couch and grab his hand. He sits down with his legs wide as you sit on top of him.

You run your hands through his hair and mold your lips together. He groans into the kiss as his hands flow down to your waist. You begin to grind against his covered crotch. His hands help you with the motion and he whimpers in your mouth.

You can feel him getting harder and harder by the minute. Your grinding motions quicken as his hands pull you into him faster. "Oh yeah darlin'. Just like that." He rests his head against the back of the pillow as you run your nails along his chest.

He shivers as you get to the waistband of his boxers. Skimming your nails along the soft curls. You carry your hand downward and over his bulge.

He flinches as he watches your movements. You run your nails along his covered length. Feeling his cock through his boxers, running your nails along the veins and tip.

He lifts his hips as a plea to remove his boxers. You only giggle as you keep teasing him. "D-Darlin'" He throws his head back as you grab his shaft through his pants. He whimpers at the feeling and lifts his hips once more.

You give him mercy as you release his cock from his boxers. He groans loudly as he feels your soft hand on his dick. He throws his arms over his eyes as he feels you run your nails along his soft skin.

Precum dribbles from the tip as you circle it with your nail. You admire the way it twitches and leaks for you. You admire how Joel is so desperately trying not to grab you and rail you too death, and how he's just barely holding on because of you.

He moans loudly as you lean down and lick a stripe up his cock. "I can't-" You giggle softly. "Can't what Joel?" You position your covered pussy over his cock and begin to rub against him. His mouth opens as he sees your soaked cunt over his dick.

His thighs begin to tremble as you quicken your pace. His cock twitches and cries under your core. He throws his head back once more and groans. "I'm cumming." He speaks threw gritted teeth. "What Joel?" When you look down at your panties, you soon get your answer. "Oh."

You sit back on his thighs as you watch his cock soften. His face is a flush red as his arms cover his eyes. "Joel did you just die or something."

He lifts his arms from his face and looks down at you. His eyes soften when he sees how absolutely stunning you look right now. He sits up and brings his hand to your face and rubs circles on your cheek with his thumb.

"Probably darlin'." You roll your eyes as he smirks and grabs your hand. He stands up from the couch and picks you up. You wrap your legs around his torso as he carries you upstairs and into your room. "Wait Joel, no-" But before you can say anything else, he's in your room.

"Yes sweetheart?" You grumble as you pick stuff off your floor and throw them into your closet. "Are you seriously cleaning up before we fuck?" He stands there, in your doorway, butt as naked with his arms crossed and a look on his face that says 'you better get your ass on the bed before I make you'

You roll your eyes and throw the stuff on the floor once more. He grins as you crawl onto your bed and lie on your back. He removes your panties as he crawls up your body and kisses your nose. "Baby girl, I don't care if your room is messy."

You giggle as he kisses your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck and through his hair. He deepens the kiss and groans into your mouth. He runs his hand down your body and between your legs.

He slowly circles your clit and you arch you back from the pleasure. You moan into his mouth as he runs a finger through your slit. You kiss his lips harder as he rubs your clit faster.

"Joel." You moan when he inserts a finger into your weeping hole. "I'm here baby, right here." He kisses your neck as his fingers work their magic.

You arch your back as you moan loudly. He feels your juices as you come and groans. "There ya go honey." He brings his hand up from your core and licks it clean. You stare at him with lust and tug his hair as you kiss him once more.

"Ready f'me?" You nod as he lines himself up. That's another thing you love about Joel. He's sweet and will always make sure your okay with something.

You gasp as you feel his cock seethe into you. He rocks his hips forward and you close your eyes.

He kisses along your neck and up to your lips. He groans against your mouth as he thrusts his hips faster. You arch your back as his pelvis knocks into your clit with each thrust.

He runs his hands along your body and rubs your breasts. He rolls your nipple between his fingers and latches his mouth onto your neck as you squeeze his cock.

He kisses and sucks that spot as you arch your back further off the bed. He grunts as he thrusts up and into you faster.

He can tell your close as your moans get louder and your breathing quickens. "Cmon baby, come with me."

You grab his face and collide your lips together as you come. Moaning into his mouth as you feel his thrusts get sloppier as he comes. Filling your pussy with his dripping seed.

His hips come to a stop as he rests his head against your forehead. You open your eyes and see that he's already looking at you.

You stare at his face for a bit. Looking at how beautiful he is. He looks into your eyes with love. He wants to hold you, wants to stay with you forever, he wants to love you. But he can't.

He kisses you once more before getting up and heading to the bathroom, leaving you all alone, for now.

He returns back with his shirt and a soft cloth, this feels all too familiar. Like he'll just clean you up and leave you once more.

You smile as he sits in front of you. You sit up and he taps your knee to spread your legs. Your raise as eyebrow as you do what your told.

His eyes droop as he sees the sight in front of him. Your gorgeous pussy leaking his cum. God, he wonders what you'd look like pregnant. With his baby, that he put into you. No, he shouldn't think like that, you're his best friends daughter after all.

He shakes the thoughts from his head and puts the soft rag against your core. Wiping away his hard work. He throws the rag down and into your hamper as he lifts your arm and puts his shirt on you.

You lift the fabric to your nose and sniff in. You open your eyes and look at him. Oops, you forgot he was here.

He smiles softly down at you and gets up. You follow him as he heads downstairs. He picks up his clothes and puts on his boxers. You don't want him to leave you just yet because you know that right after his shoes are on, he's out the door. So, you come up with an idea.

He pulls his jeans up and then he hears music. He turns around and sees you smiling at him with your finger in your mouth. You walk over to him.

You wrap your arms around his naked shoulders. He chuckles as you begin to sway your hips. "And what's all this darlin'?" You giggle as he steps side to side with you. "Just a little dancing." He smiles sweetly at you.

Like a Prayer by Madonna plays in the background as you both giggle and dance together. He grabs your arm and twirls you around. His hands on your hips as you sway your hips to the beat and he pulls a John Travolta move and you laugh and giggle at him.

You stare up at him as the beat begins to come to an end. You just stare into each others eyes and you want to say it so badly. Want to claw at his chest and make a hole in his heart for you. You want to scream to the whole world that you are so deeply in love with him. Joel Miller.

He stares into your soft eyes. He looks into each one. He would love to just take you back to his house and stay with you forever. He wants to hold you and kiss you and love you till the day you die. But you both know you can't and never will.

The music comes to an end and he stands with you in your empty living room, with no shirt on and his hands on your waist. He leans down and slowly kisses your lips with deep passion and love.

He's never kissed you with such tenderness. When his lips release from yours, you look up at him with tears in your eyes. He smiles down at you and brings his hands to your face. Just say it, just say it, please just say it.

He boops your nose with his finger and goes to grab his shirt but realizes you have it on.

You clear your throat and walk over to he door. He's soon behind you and tugs at the flannel your wearing. "It's alright sugar, you keep it, it's hot out anyways." He smirks at you as you shyly smile up at him.

He walks out the door and waves goodbye. "Bye Joel." You say with sadness as you close the door. You walk back up to your bedroom and shut the door, plunging your face into your pillow and crying your eyes out. You are so so so deeply in love with him and you don't know what to do anymore.

part i part ii part iii

tags!!

@guelyury @livingonthehems @ursagittariusgirlfriend @iamsherloocked @heartpascalispunk

@pinkcrystal44 @amyispxnk @simplewanderer @tupelomiss @heartramen

@kotourasan123 @mermaidgirl30 @brittmb115 @littlevenicebitch69 @sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts

@morallyinept @magpiepills @javierpenaispunk @rav3n-pascal22 @yorksgirl

@itsokbbygrl @mountainsandmayhem

[stealingyourbones]

Had an idea for you.

Due to Shenanigans Danny and Jazzy end up in the DC verse which has much less ectoplasm than their own verse. Even more concerning is they are close to 80 years in the past from their point of view. Teenage Danny gets an apprenticeship with a clock maker and Jazzy becomes a school teacher.

Eventually Jazzy ends up marrying Thomas Constantine and having first Cheryl and then John and his twin. I don't know if Danny would ever get married or if he's simply focusing on his trade. By the time Jazzy dies as in John's backstory Uncle Danny is there to step up and help take care of him and Cheryl while Thomas falls apart. All throughout there childhood Cheryl and Johnny know they can count on Uncle Danny and with Danny's prompting John learns from the previous Laughing Magician and is not just winging his magic. Cut to modern day and John joins the JLD. Eventually he gets injured and they need to talk to his power of medical attorney to get permission for treatment or maybe John got a concussion and they need to have somebody they can send him home with. They see Danny Fenton and a New York address and assume this is a boyfriend. Superman Zips over to the address and find out that no, this is not his boyfriend, this is his uncle. Superman carries now late 90s Danny Fenton to Mt Justice to take care of his beloved Little Johnny. The JLA are never going to let him live that down!

Either that or there is a family day and John asks if he can have a relative come to the Watchtower. Batman thinks he means a relative of Cheryl's and after a thorough background check of all the Constantine - master family agrees. Then old Uncle Danny comes up! Danny still loves the stars and has kept up with the advances of the engineering over the decades as well as learn necromancy so he can talk to his sister in this reality. He is having a blast!

He may also attempt to adopt that poor Revenant over there though.

observing this ask like a bug under a microscope

[positivelybeastly]

"I could be working on a children's toy, and I'd still want to lock it up if a known malcontent happened to be sneaking about, masking his scent so that I didn't hear him approach." Hank gives the smirking youth an arch eyebrow at that, almost daring him to contest the point.

"Unless you want to try and tell me that you were in full stealth mode because you merely wanted it to be a delightful surprise when you popped back up, like a particularly bad penny?" Oh, but he was being cutting today. Had Raze earned all of this opprobrium, truly?

. . . Yes.

Rolling his eyes at the pointed scan of his body, Hank made a show of locking his computer screen and crossing his arms so that he could deny the younger man at least part of his body to ogle. Sometimes, he really did regret the decision to go without clothing.

"I was not offering, as it happens. I think it's no coincidence that my older self appears to be ever so slightly frayed at the edges and under your proverbial thumb. I've no doubt the two facts are linked. Unless you're inclined to disabuse me of that notion?"

“So idle you gotta lock it up,” Raze smirked. Would it have been polite to pretend not to notice Hank sneaking? Sure. But hey. The shifter wasn’t very polite.

“If you’re offering, I definitely wouldn’t be opposed," Raze cocked his head and bit his lip, perusing Hank's body slowly. "There's nothing wrong with him being an older model. Wouldn’t be a matter of replacement.”

Which sounded like he was collecting them. Oops. Oops? That sounded like a nice idea, actually.

[deadsetobsessions]

Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider��� past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

F

E

L

L.

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

[littyhoney]

Right Person,Wrong Time. (part 2)

BIG SPOILER WARNING TO ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE!!

Earth 42 Miles Morales x Reader

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Chapter summary: It has been a year and Miles can’t seem to move on from Gwen…how much longer can you take for always be in the dark? But little did you know someone is waiting in the dark for you..

Warning: Spoilers for the movie Across the Spider-verse, long chapter,heavy Angst

p/s: if some of you are confuse if this is Miles 1610 fic or Miles 42 its Miles 42 but the chapters are for build ups for extra pain hehe enjoy! also i try my best to make it gender neutral <3

You walk through the sidewalk making your way to Miles apartment with bluetooth headphones on both of your hand in your pockets of your hoodie to keep you warm from the chilling air, In your ears is blasting a music from the Weeknd-Call out my name.

It has been a year…for that whole year you have been there for Miles again and again and again… and every single time you fail to win Miles over. You been very vague of your feeling towards Miles but the boy seems to be too focus on someone else..Gwen Stacy. You have try to let him know that you’re there! Not her,whenever he is down you’re there to comfort him,not Gwen. Whenever he is in trouble you would cover for him, you become so selfless over him not wanting to see him get hurt..but who will care for you? Protect you? You just don’t know…

You walk over the steps leading up to the Morales front door and knock on it as you pull your headphones off. You hear the door unlock and open for you to see Mrs Morales “Hey mama Rio,is Miles here? He didn’t answer his phone”

“Really? Oh well he is in his room, come in dear its cold outside”The woman smiles as she close the door behind you  as you walk in, clearly you know where miles get such a warm smile from “Thanks Mama Rio”you smile at the woman taking your hoodie off.

“Oh dear I almost forgot that we be making a party up at the rooftop,its uh a celebration for Jeff becoming the next captain”You look at her with a big smile before let out a chuckle, you knew that Jeff is a good cop who always keeping the city safe “Congrats! Wow! Uh il make sure to come by the party, thanks for the invite Mama Rio”you walk towards Miles door “Anytime dear”the woman speaks before focus back to her Tv show.

You knock on the door to Miles room before a muffle come in speaks from inside the room,you open the door and lean on the door frame with a small smirk “Sup coco head”looking at Miles who is sitting at his desk with his headphones on.

Miles yelp when he turn around to see you by the door before he rip his headphones off his head turning towards you “Geez (N/n) I though you were my mom” Miles sigh before he slump back on his seat “Wait why are you here?”he tilt his head looking at you.

You sigh as you drop your head before push yourself up from the door frame walking towards Miles and pull out your phone showing him the miss calls and unread messages "You promise to hang out today at the park,remember? you told me over the phone yesterday for basketball?”you feel slightly annoyed now knowing he keeps forgetting his promises these past months but you still have sympathy over him,since he been over his head lately.

Miles sit up straigh before looking up at you,guilt drawn all over his face “I-Im sorry man I forgot it’s just ‘sigh’ a lot of things have been going on in my head lately”

“oh,what happened? don’t tell me you got in trouble again Miles”you said with a slight frown drawn on your face looking down at him. Miles head snap back to you shaking his head “noo nono”he laugh nervously as he try to convinve you,clearly he is in trouble.

“Miles..”you look at him squinting your eyes at him frow drawn on your eyebrows. Miles sigh defeated before he held his head in his hand on the table “I uhh..okay..the principal wants to see me and my parents tomorrow..”

You look at him in shock before you held your hand on your waist “But I though you aced the exam Miles,are the notes from me and Ganke not enough to cover it??” you ask him,still in disbelief. Since both of you are busy going in and out of the class for emergency moments,both of you mostly rely on notes to pass the exam,you mostly write your own notes but Miles always share Ganke’s notes with you.

Miles shake his head before leaning back on the chair “I don’t know (Y/n) clearly something is up and right now im in..shambles man. Nothing makes sense to me anymore,after wearing that mask everything is just on my shoulder”the boy is clearly burned out by all of his responsibilities..being a son,a student and a hero. He seems to think that everything and everyone relys on him while he can’t rely on anyone…but how wrong is he.

You shake your head slightly,moving near him as you lean on the chair looking down at him “Miles…youre not alone in this,I know that being a hero is such a big responsibility but…im here for you man”your eyes soften “You can rely on me anytime Miles…heck if you want I can do the patrol stuff for a week if you ask me to man” you let out a chuckle,this boy really have a soft spot on you.

Miles shake his head his face still frowning before he says “But you’re not her (Y/N), you’re...not Gwen”he look up at you.

You look at him…blink a few times letting his words sink in to you,you move yourself away from him,walking backwards before a soft chuckle escape your lips “are you for real Miles..? Gwen?”your brows frown mouth agape not believing what you just have heard..

Miles begin to talk again but you quickly cut him off “No man I heh…well she’s not here is she? Im here for you Miles,from the beginning to hear your problems a-and to cover your freaking ass everytime man..”your voice cracked as you try to talk out through the choking “im the one who is taking hits for you,the one who always have to sit there listening you calling for someone who is not here”you hiss out the word at him..tears building up making everything you see is blurry but you blink away the tears as much as you can..

“Youre not the only one who wears the mask Miles,but I put you above myself everytime so that I know you’re okay…but you’re here telling me that you want someone else to stand here….am I not enough for you Miles?”you point to yourself,your heart cracks at every sob that you try to surpress.

“(N/n) I..”Miles stand up trying to reach for your arm but you held out your hand stopping him. You rub your nose with your other hand letting out a sniff before your cracked voice speaks “No..no Miles..im just gonna go…tell your dad I said congrats”you said as you walk out of his room taking your hoodie that you put on the hanger walking out of the main door and close it.… you lean your back on the door as you finally let the tears running down your cheek…

To be continued.

(Woah what a chapter huh,part 3 soon..)

Tags:

@usernamepassowrd-blog @marimo331 @rinouko @chims-kookies

@rinisfruity14 @gasoline-eater @bath1lda @kiranishi @blep24

@dani111

[carminecherry]

THE SUMMER HEAT, THE COOL CAFE | mikey sano

this is part one of the series kill the lights

⇝ PAIRING: timeskip!biker!mikey sano x fem!reader

⇝ SERIES SYNOPSIS: after moving by yourself to tokyo, you black out at a party and wake up with a new friend. as she sweeps you up in her fast-paced city life, you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper for her mysterious brother. but something dark is brewing in the city. as his past threatens to resurface, mikey must fight not only physical enemies but the mental battle of his feelings for you. he can't resist you , but could he ever forgive himself if something happened to you? he'll love you selfishly and protect you savagely.

⇝ PART ONE LENGTH: 2.8k words

⇝ PART ONE WARNINGS: N/A (18+ minors do not interact):

all characters are 20+; Alternate Universe! Canon Divergent. you go out for coffee with emma after meeting at a mutual friend's house party. a friendship blossoms, but you can't seem to get a certain biker out of your head.

⇝ AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have been haunted by this mikey fic for almost a year! I hope you all can enjoy the drama and popcorn fiction of the world of the mikey-verse. we'll keep it fun and flirty and I PROMISE the build up will be worth it ;) it starts off slow, but there is gratuitous smut later in the series. keep an eye on the tags and stay safe! <3

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT.

The city has become a concrete jungle. The summer sun roasting the land beneath it. Lavishing in its task; making the hours creep by ever so slowly. Even after the sun goes down, the heat sets into the earth like a deep rot. 

You step out of your apartment, the distant star glaring down. The buzzing of the cicadas makes the heavy, humid air vibrate in an unpleasant way. You always hated summer and summers in Tokyo were a special hell. The way your clothes would cling to your sweaty body. How the muggy, wet air thickened your breath. And that's all before you consider the insects. 

One of the few blessings of living in the city was that there weren’t as many bugs here as in your childhood home. However, you didn’t have a parent here to kill or catch the scary ones that would occasionally make their way into your apartment and you didn’t have the heart or stomach to deal with them. 

A particularly ferocious looking cockroach had been in your sanctuary last night, which meant you had spent the better part of an hour making a very convincing argument for it to walk out of the balcony door. All the while, praying nothing else would fly in. Cursing and mentally tallying the money pouring out into the hot summer night as your AC ran at full blast. Fall couldn’t come soon enough. 

Today was particularly blistering. Your phone already growing hot in the short distance to the train station. If you hadn’t made plans in a better, more social mood, you could still be curled up under your AC. You cursed the gregarious version of yourself from the other night. The crowded train swaying, other passengers bumping into you with each motion. But It was too early in the friendship to flake now.

You had met her through a mutual friend at a house party. You were still relatively new to the city and didn’t have a community yet. Blessedly, it turns out you had a good friend from university living close by. Earlier in the week, out of the blue, he had reached out. The two of you had studied hard and partied harder as undergraduates. While he seemed to be making something of his fashion design degree, if his immaculately curated luxury loft were any indicator of success, you were busting your ass to make ends meet. 

Your job at the small combination cafe and bookshop was aesthetic and cozy but ultimately a placeholder until you found a job in your industry. Maybe you should’ve done Fashion Design after all. 

You wanted to catch up with him the other night, maybe even do some networking at his house party, but you had barely been able to get two sentences in before he was called off to talk to other party-goers. This had left you in your worst, admittedly nicely decorated, nightmare. 

This solitude and anxiety had led to you sipping awkwardly from one too many drinks. But the alcohol had eased your nerves enough for you to talk to another girl at the party. Regrettably, much of your conversion had been lost to the liquor, but meeting for coffee today had been nailed down before you lost too much of your sense. 

You winced in embarrassment, rubbing away the ghost of your hangover from the other night. You hope you hadn’t made a fool of yourself, and if you had, you hope that she doesn’t remember it either. 

Just then, your phone buzzed with a notification. Emma, the girl from the party’s name flashes on your phone screen. You tapped it quickly and read, 

“I’m so sorry, my ride fell through but I got another one. I’m running a little late but I’m on my way!” 

Thank god. Your heart had dropped seeing the preview of the message, thinking she was about to cancel. You quickly type back, 

“No sweat! I’ll see if I can snag us any of the good seats ;)”  

You don’t imagine it’ll be too busy since it’s that golden window after breakfast and before lunch, but the “good seats” are always the first to go. The thought of having to sit out on the balcony in this weather makes you cringe. The train lurches to a halt and you get your elbows up, worming your way out of the crowded car. The joys of Tokyo living.

You idly make your way to your destination, wishing there was some sort of breeze to ease the waves of hot air rising from the concrete. The streets are dotted with only a handful of other people; everyone else must be smart enough to stay inside today. There are a few cars on the road, the way the wind shifts around them as they zip past throws off an uncomfortable, hot gust.

You turned the corner to cut back to some of the side streets, there were usually less cars there; more pedestrian friendly. You’d usually opt for a cozier, more hole-in-the-wall type of cafe like the one you worked at, but Emma had insisted that she wanted to try the new seasonal drink at this place. 

This location was often not as busy as you would expect from one of the most popular coffee joints in Tokyo. Well, the world. But ever since tourists started coming back to Japan, it was becoming more difficult to anticipate the crowds. You rounded the corner and neared the big wooden doors. 

The cicadas were noisy as hell, even here. You noticed there was something masked by the buzzing. A revving? The sound rapidly approached and in moments was bearing down on you. You jumped back, securely on the sidewalk as a motorcycle screeched to a halt. The sudden appearance of the two riders on its back catching nearby eyes. 

The driver of the bike was dressed head to toe in black, matching his sleek black bike. You could practically see the heat waves rolling off of the leather biker jacket that stretched across a broad back and tightened over what were sure to be muscular shoulders. 

You questioned how and why anyone could wear that getup in this weather. The smaller figure on the back was more sensibly dressed in light, loose clothes, the outfit accentuating their feminine features. She tugged off her helmet, golden locks tumbled free of their confines.

“Jesus! It’s too hot to be wearing a damn helmet, Mikey! I think it messed up my hair” she whined, shoving the helmet into the hands of the figure named Mikey. She tossed her hair a few times in an attempt to fluff some life back  into what was matted by the helmet. She was stunning regardless. He made no move to take off his headwear, the visor an impenetrable black, betraying no feature of the face beneath. 

“That’s a long way to say thank you.” He returned dully. She gave him a shove as she hopped off the bike. Turning on her heel she offered, “Thank you.” The words dripped in sarcasm. He nodded, seemingly satisfied despite the tone. Emma turned again, eyes finally locking on you. They’re a pretty honey color slightly darker than her hair. 

“EEE! Oh my god! It’s so good to see you!” She squeals, rushing over to hug you. The sudden physical affection catches you off guard. You hope she doesn’t feel how sweaty you are. “Hey~ I thought you were going to be late?!” You respond, giving a gentle squeeze back before slipping from her grip. You continue with a smile, “It’s great to see you too. Thanks for meeting up with me today.” 

She smiles back. She has a pretty smile that crinkles her nose and shows off her straight, white teeth. She’s as beautiful as you recalled from the party, despite your memory being hazy. As you admire the features of the woman in front of you, you feel a prickling on the back of your neck. That feeling when you know someone is watching you and you feel the world zoom in on the space around you. 

Your eyes dart up and land on the figure still seated on the bike. His stance unnaturally still. Despite the visor still blocking your view, you knew those were the eyes boring into you. You smiled awkwardly and offered a small wave to the figure sizing you up. He made no move to respond. Emma registered the situation and turned back to face Mikey. “You can go now.” In a tone so icy you almost forgot you were in the armpit of summer. 

“I’m gonna have Draken pick me up so don’t worry about hanging around.” With that she waved him off dismissively. There was a beat before her words registered and the biker’s head snapped forward, nodding sharply before revving his engine. You felt the reverberation in your bones. Then, in a bolt of jet black, he was gone. Your eyes lingered in the space where he’d been. 

“Sorry about him. He’s not good with new people.” Emma says, shaking her head and holding the door open. You step into the massive cafe, the cold air a welcome embrace. “It’s all good. Was he at the party the other night too?” You ask, eyes surveying the crowded room for an open table. “Nah, he had to work late. He’s also not much of a party person, believe it or not.” She says, lacing the end of her statement with sarcasm. “What?! No way!” You feign surprise. She shoulder bumps you playfully as the two of you make your way up to the second floor. You like her already.

Your mind replays their interactions from before and the dynamic wasn’t giving that of a romantic relationship. “So, how do you know him?” You ask, your eyes turning to the pretty blonde. “Oh! He’s my brother, Mikey!” She said with a hearty laugh. “Sorry! I should've introduced you!” She apologizes.  “It’s all good! He seemed like he had somewhere to be.” Your offer. She rolled her eyes, “He’s always rushing off somewhere, I’m surprised I was able to catch him today to give me a ride.” You look around the second floor for an open table to no avail. You say a prayer to a certain green mermaid that there will be seats on the third floor. 

“That’s brutal though. Working late on a Friday night and having to rush around on a Sunday.” Your homebody shudders at the thought of working on the weekends. “Yeah, well he’s too much of a busybody to sit around doing nothing. I don’t think he’s been relaxed since we were kids.” Her gaze drifts and you get the sense that conversation has reached its end. 

“Anyways, the party was a lot of fun! How do you know Yuuki?” you ask, changing the subject. “Oh, he’s actually friends with my boyfriend Draken and, I guess, acquaintances with Mikey.” The word acquaintances seemed to be doing some heavy lifting and the nosy side of you wanted to know more, but you locked onto the juicier topic.“Oh~ Boyfriend.” You tease. Of course a girl as pretty as Emma would be taken. “Does he have any single friends? Any cute ones? Could he hook me up?” You continue. 

She laughs, “Not many I think he would vouch for, but I can let him know there is an interested party.” Score! In more ways than one, there is an open window seat calling your name on the third floor. You set your bags down to claim the space. You sink into the plush seats to test them out, heavenly. She returns your question, “How about you, how do you know Yuuki?” 

“We were friends in university, we had some classes together. Actually, I was surprised to hear from him when I moved to the city. You know, we haven’t really talked since graduation. I don’t even know how he knew I moved here to be honest...” You say with a dry laugh. 

Come to think of it, you hadn’t questioned when his message slid into your DMs. Welcoming you to Tokyo and inviting you to his house party. Truthfully, you thought he might’ve been shooting his shot. He’s cute and the two of you had a little will-they-won't-they that never played out in university. But his complete dismissal of you at the party had been signal enough. 

“Either way, he used to throw ragers at his place back on campus and it seems like he’s perfected the craft here.” As you continue, Emma’s eyes drift out the large floor to ceiling windows and a scowl flashes across her face, too quick for you to notice. She whips her phone out under the low table and skillful fingers fly across the screen, stabbing out a message that is delivered before you end your sentence. If you listened closely, the sound of a bike might’ve been heard over the ambience of the crowded cafe.

You’re pulled out of your reverie by Emma, clapping her hands as she stands from her seat, sparkles in her eyes. “If you’re looking for a good party you found the right girl. I’m actually working as a promoter right now. If you ever want to go out, shoot me a message. I’ll put your name on the list!” A wide smile stretching across her face. “Only if you promise you’ll be there with me.” You counter, flashing your best puppy dog eyes. “It’s a deal.” She winks, “Let’s get our coffee before the line gets any longer.” You rise from your seat, the promise of caffeine is an attractive one and the two of you make your way to the counter. 

***

Coffee had been perfect. What nerves you had about meeting Emma had melted in her warm aura. She was walking sunshine. The afternoon had been filled with laughs and knee slaps, It had felt like home. Before you knew it, the day had gotten away from you. With a promise of coffee next Sunday, the two of you made your exits. 

Another biker pulled up in front of the cafe. His build is slightly taller than Mikey’s. His bike was cool and looked more retro from what limited knowledge you had. Emma practically glowed as she skipped to the man. Wrapping her arms around him. He pulled off his helmet as he steadied his bike, balancing the woman embracing him. 

His features are severe and strikingly handsome. He has a muscular and imposing build. His bleached hair is cut into a kind of shaggy mohawk. The hair on the top of his head is longer and braided while the sides are shaved to the scalp. You notice he has a large tattoo that curls behind his ear and goes down his neck. Between his physique, the bike, the ink, he might’ve looked scary if he didn’t look like he was about to melt. His eyes were soft and locked on the woman in his arms. What you wouldn’t give to have someone look at you like that. Especially if it was a guy who looked like him.

You exchanged a brief introduction and he gave you a firm handshake, his expression unreadable when facing you. You said your goodbyes and watched as the two of them rode off. You had a nostalgic feeling lingering in your chest. Happiness from the day mixed with something else. Is it loneliness? You couldn’t quite place it as you made your way back to your apartment, the heat getting the better of you. The cicadas were beginning their nightly choir as you neared your door. You had noticed many things that day that played in a loop in your mind. 

The way Emma’s hair shimmered like gold when it caught the sunlight, the way the thrum of people in the cafe had made the top of your drink shimmer with vibration, the new spider web woven into the nook between the station sign and the wall near your exit, even now how the sky was streaked with magenta and tangerine hues as the sun dipped below the horizon. 

You’d always find yourself drawn to bright, shiny things. Not daring a glance to the shadows that creep along the periferie. What you can’t see can hurt you. That's a hard lesson. One you were bound to learn sooner or later. It was too late to change the trajectory as your door closed securely behind you. Everything was already in motion and, without realizing it, you’d been tugged into the current. Nothing would’ve changed, but if you had turned and glanced at the shadows, you might’ve seen the black silhouette of a biker in stark contrast to the vibrant summer world.

[circle-with-me]

tangled up in morning white

pairing: jolly karlsson x female ofc (violet)

content warning: 18+MDNI! unprotected sex, fingering (female receiving), very soft intimacy, so much fluff, these two clowns are so in love.

word count: 1.4k

tag list: @deathblacksmoke @darksigns-exe @malice-ov-mercy @sitkowski @somebodyels3 @baddestomens @cncohshit @cookiesupplier @collective-heartbreak @tearfallpixie @broken0mens @collapsedglasshouses @lma1986 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @catharsis-in-darkness @shilohrosechicken @sprokat

author’s note: surprise addition to the jolly and violet verse! this stemmed from a soft boy hours post @darksigns-exe (read it here!!) made that absolutely blew my mind. i hope i did it justice 🩷

It’s hard for Jolly to believe that there was ever a time before Violet. Sure, it existed—but his life changed for the better when she came along. They clicked instantly and became fast friends; it was hard not to with so many shared interests. Things were easy with Violet. Not only was she a blast to be around but she knew how to handle the messes he could make—both in his personal life and in his head. He would show up at her house at all hours and she would gather up his troubles, find the missing pieces, and fix them all by dawn. Somehow she managed this all with a cup of coffee and a pencil shoved in her bun to keep her hair out of her face while she thought. Jolly had no idea how she did it, but he was sure she was heaven sent. He always hoped he provided her with half of the same moral support she had given him. 

Now, years later, he has the privilege of waking up next to her each morning. It’s a feeling that he’ll never get used to, Jolly thinks. At least he hopes he doesn’t. The conscious awareness of her weight next to him provides him a sense of security. As long as she’s near him, he knows she’s safe. 

Jolly lies on his side watching her chest rise and fall slowly—her breathing acting as a calming agent. Violet’s pulse beats steadily in her neck. He could so easily lean over and press a kiss there but he can’t bring himself to disturb her. He gently pushes a strand of hair out of her face, admiring the way she smiles at his touch. Every attempt he makes at memorizing her features ends with him discovering something new and even more remarkable about her. 

She stirs under his touch. Her head turns to place kisses to his palm before her eyes even begin to open. Watching her sleep was incomparable to the breathtaking experience of seeing her wake. She extends her arm around his waist, fingers dancing along the warm skin. 

“Good morning, my flower.”

“Mmm. Hi.” Violet whispers drowsily as she shifts into his arms, tangling their legs together. Jolly buries his face in her hair inhaling the scent of her shampoo. She makes a content sound settling into his chest, undoubtedly enjoying the warmth that has developed between them. 

It’s calming—the two of them basking in the quiet early morning hours. He craves these innocent moments with her—needs them in ways he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe. It’s these moments that he desperately misses when he’s on tour. He tries to take advantage of them as much as possible when he’s home. Having her this close is equally a blessing and a curse. This morning, he needs something more, and when her knee slots between his thighs just so, it’s impossible for him to hide it any longer. She shifts in his arms and he’s met with green eyes peering up at him.

“Honey,” Violet sighs. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She trails featherlight kisses across his chest. Her fingernails scratch at the skin under the waistband of his boxers. The contact makes him shudder and he can’t resist pressing into her more. 

“I didn’t want to wake you,” He responds, his voice giving away just how worked up he is. “Also, we were having such a nice moment—I was trying not to ruin it.” 

Violet looks up at him with a sinful smile. She pushes her hand past his waistband, wrapping her fingers around his erection. Jolly’s eyes roll back into his head at her touch. He feels her smile against his lips, all hope of returning any attention back to her lips is completely lost in the grip she has on him. 

“Who says this can’t be a part of our nice moment together?” 

Jolly lets his hands respond for him—hiking her leg on top of his thigh. His hands snake their way up her oversized t-shirt and push it over her head. He makes quick work of his boxers but he’s unwilling to part ways with her for long, tugging her close once again. Her bare body connecting with him sets him on fire when he feels how affected she is already. 

A gasp leaves her parted lips when he sneaks a hand between her legs, fingering through her folds. It’s dizzying how tight she feels around a single finger when he slips it inside her. There’s no protest when he works a second in soon after. Her fingers dig into his chest and shoulders as she searches for purchase. His head sinks below to capture her breast in his mouth, licking and sucking at her nipple. He craves her warmth around his length but doesn’t dare take her pleasure away from her. She’s so close and he can feel it. It isn’t much longer until she falls apart for him.

Breathless, she crawls on top of him. Her lips attach to his chest and she leaves gentle bites along the skin. When she sits up, Jolly is left speechless. The sun has come up and peeks through the crack of the window. It shines beautifully onto Violet’s body, highlighting her gorgeous form. The green in her eyes beam with such magnificence that it would make the most beautiful emerald look dull. 

She seems just as mesmerized by him in the warm light, unhurriedly running her palms down his chest and stomach repeatedly. The two of them admire each other for what seems like hours. Jolly would happily burn the image of her on top of him into his eyelids if he could. 

“You’re shaking.” Violet observes. Her hand still steadily moves up and down his torso. She doesn’t seem to realize that she’s also shaking. Jolly gently takes her hand. Violet laces their fingers together and brings them to her lips. 

“Vi,” He breathes. “I need you.”

Violet lifts her hips and sinks down onto him with practiced ease. He grabs her waist moving her to set the pace but she pushes them away choosing to set her own torturously slow rhythm instead. While he thinks he may go mad from the unhurried pace, the pleasure is immeasurable and Jolly can feel himself burning from the inside out. 

He grabs fistfuls of the sheets beneath him—anything to keep his hands busy. The longing to close the proximity between them is profound. As he watches her move he dreams about wrapping his hand around her throat, not to choke, but bring her down to him—crush their lips together and intensify the moment even more. The desire to touch her grows too strong. He places a large palm on Violet’s chest, allowing her pulse to settle the frenzied thoughts in his brain.

The slow drag of her hips sets him alight with pleasure but his body relaxes with every roll, every sigh from her lips, every flutter of her eyelashes. He feels her walls squeeze around him—her legs begin to shake and the rest of her body follows soon after. The way she moans his name, Joakim, has always been unlike any other but this time feels different. Her voice raises an octave as a gasp forms around the end of his name. The glow of the morning light radiates around her and he feels unworthy of bearing witness to this moment. But it’s their moment. It belongs to them.

When Violet collapses over him— shuddering but otherwise still—he feels her fingers run through his brown locks that have spread out over the pillow. The pressure of her on his chest is blissfully suffocating. She kisses him in such a way that what little oxygen is left is pulled straight from his lungs. The feeling consumes him and he spills into her without warning. Each muscle in his body goes taut. Every one of his senses implode as she begins rocking on top of him again to prolong his climax. 

Jolly tries to see her again, to bask in her glow once more as he comes back down, but all he sees is Violet’s silhouette with a faint orange hue surrounding it. Her lips press against his forehead—the hands that were once in his hair cup his face, her thumbs delicately graze along his cheekbones. Violet’s soft murmurs of praise barely register in his ears from the blood still rushing through them. His arms wrap around her, somehow pulling her in closer than before. He’ll selfishly hold her here until she insists on getting out of bed. 

[kikis-writing-world]

Espresso

Or: She needed to come back down to earth

Chrissy Cunningham has tickets to see her favorite pop star perform. It's a concert she'll never, ever forget.

Past Eddie/Chrissy, current female Pop Star!Reader/Rockstar!Eddie

*In the 3rd person, can also be read as an OC

Word Count: 3k

Rating/Warnings: Reader is female presenting and performed Espresso originally by Sabrina Carpenter, and I describe her as moving and posing, but possibly with the aid of dansers? - blank slate otherwise. No Upside Down. Could be read either canon!AU (mid 90s or so as they're adults now) or modern!AU. If I missed anything AU wise or blankslate!reader wise, please let me know kindly <3 I'm only human.

This work is rated PG but this blog is always 18+

A/N: The song got me, what can I say? Somewhere in my head Espresso mixed with Sk8er Boy by Avril Lavigne and here's what you get. A little fic to whet your appetite. Not edited, not betaed, written in about 1.5 hours while also at work- but I hope you enjoy it anyway <3

divider by @saradika-graphics

“Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso-

Chrissy giggled as she sang along to the track floating from the state of the art boombox on her dresser. Her best friends, Cindy and Linda, danced around the bedroom with her, feeling like teens again as they got ready for the concert that evening.

“I can’t get enough of this song,” Linda gushed as she leaned close to the mirror above Chrissy’s vanity. She stopped singing along with the other girls long enough to apply her shiny lip gloss to perfection.

“She’s the best.” Chrissy agreed, turning the volume up even farther, hitting the threshold as the boombox reached max volume.

“Can I borrow this?” Cindy asked, picking up one of Chrissy’s eyeshadow palettes.

“Of course,” Chrissy agreed without thought, only to pause. “Wait- as long as you use that pink,” Chrissy amended, pointing to the neon hue. “Because it’s perfect with your outfit.”

The girls all laughed as they agreed on it being the perfect shade.

“How did you even get these tickets, it’s been sold out for months?” Linda asked, turning away from the mirror, bopping in place to the music.

“Daddy has a client whose son’s fiance got mono on her bachelorette vacation, so they canceled the wedding. They sold her tickets to afford the cancellation fees.” Chrissy explained as she compared two necklaces against her outfit. The girls cringed in sympathy, but the mood was quickly uplifted as they all tuned back into the music, forgetting the unknown couple’s problems. The tornado of excitement and glitter moved through the room until suddenly the girls all stopped what they were doing to sing along in tandem.

“I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

The three faced each other as they sang, sharing the moment as they each performed their hearts out as if they were the one performing on stage tonight. The three danced, twirling their hips and waving their arms the way they did as teens, trying to get all the boys’ attention. Not the three grown adults they were, with homes, partners and responsibilities. It was freeing to feel so young again.

“My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen-

The three all shrieked with laughter as they reached the end of the verse, laughing at each other’s lewd dance moves in camaraderie.

“Oh shit, is that the time?!” Cindy gasped, cutting off the raucous laughter. The other two girls turned to the clock Cindy was staring at, noticing time did indeed fly when you were having this much fun. If they didn’t finish getting ready soon, they would be late and then have a hard time finding a good spot to watch the show from.

“Shit!” Chrissy cursed, barely audible over the blasting music. She jogged over to the boombox, turning it down a few notches to a more reasonable volume.

All three women snapped back to task, perfecting their make-up and concert looks. It wasn’t long before they were running out the door and into Chrissy’s powder blue Beamer. Chrissy hadn’t even backed out of the driveway before Linda had the car stereo blasting the album, right where they had left off in the house. The three women sped down the highway, singing along to the tracks they would soon be hearing live.

Chrissy was sure her perfectly coiffed hair was falling and frizzing up, her carefully applied make-up turned into colourful smudges across her cheeks, the boots styled to match her outfit splattered with dirt and mud - but she couldn’t care less. She was having the time of her life at the concert. The singing was amazing, even better than the album. The dancing, the choreography - the hunky dancers. She was having the best time, dancing and singing along with Cindy and Linda.

“This is AMAZING!” Linda shrieked as the song ended. Chrissy clapped and cheered while Cindy jumped up and down.

“Alright, alright,” the woman on stage spoke, waving off everyone still cheering after the last number she performed. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath from the singing and dancing, skin glistening with sweat under the stage lights. Her hair hadn’t fallen and her make-up hadn’t budged. Chrissy watched her in awe, quieting her own thrilled cheers to hear what her favorite artist had to say next.

“Oh my god, Indiana, you guys are crazy!” She laughed, waiting for the crowd to die down. Unfortunately, the comment made them cheer in agreement. Chrissy and her friends jumped up and down, cheering along.

The performer on stage dropped the microphone to her side as she laughed again at the crowd’s reaction. She looked off stage and made a little shrugging motion, a smile on her face all the while. Chrissy couldn’t see who she was looking at from her angle - someone on her team, her manager, someone running the equipment; she wasn’t sure. She kept looking between the crowd and the wing of the stage until they quieted enough for her to speak once more.

“See I have a friend,” the singer started, roaming the stage with ease. Her presence filled the large space as the crowd - Chrissy, Linda and Cindy included - took in each word with bated breath. A field full of fans waiting to see what she would say or do next. “A very good friend, you might say.” The singer admitted with a sly smirk.

The crowd exploded - some cheers, some boos of disappointed fans.

“Did you know she was seeing anybody?!” Linda gasped.

“I hadn’t seen anything in The Enquirer!” Cindy shook her head, flailing her hands as if trying to fan herself. “Oh my god, who do you think it is?”

“It could be anyone,” Linda started, only to be interrupted by Chrissy.

“Maybe Leo!” She laughed, joking while all the while loving the idea that her favorite pop star might be dating her favorite hunk of an actor. Linda and Cindy agreed by way of shrieking and jumping with excitement. Chrissy joined in immediately.

“See, my very special friend is from right here in Indiana!” the star continued over the mic, halting the girls’ theorizing. They quieted down, Linda blindly grabbing for Chrissy and Cindy’s hands as she never took her eyes off the stage. No one wanted to miss a hint on who the mystery “friend” was. “He told me that you guys… Well, he doesn’t seem to like his home state very much.” The star fake pouted as the rapt audience booed. She looked off stage, pointing her exaggerated pout that way. 

“Oh my god, is he here? Who is it?” Cindy nearly fell over, trying to lean over far enough to see backstage.

“I can’t see from here!” Chrissy huffed, craning her neck to get a better look. It was no use, they were too far to the same side to see into the wings.

“I know! What a meanie!” The singer laughed joyfully into the microphone. “I tell him he’s a big meanie all the time, but he doesn’t believe me.” She rolled her eyes playfully.

A dull laugh rolled through the crowd and the performer gave it a moment to breathe before continuing with her story. “I think you were all a bit mean to him too once, but maybe one day you’ll forgive each other.” She tutted. The crowd cheered their agreement - anything to make their idol happy. The reaction made the singer beam brightly, glancing over her shoulder yet again.

“This next song… I wrote it for him, and-”

The crowd cheered and awed, interrupting her briefly. She shot a wink offstage before rolling through the crowd’s roar.

“I wrote this for him, and right here in front of everyone he says he hates, I’m dedicating it to him! Let’s show him some love!” She yelled over the mic, the crowd growing louder as it fed off her excitement.

There was a short beat of silence before the opening notes to Espresso started, making the crowd go wild once more as the smash hit song started.

Chrissy, Cindy and Linda all screamed along with the crowd, jumping with excitement despite their sore, aching feet after dancing all night. Chrissy pulled her camera out of her fanny pack, snapping pics as the song started. The singer smiled and danced to the opening notes, waiting for her cue to start singing. The dancers around her grooved along with her, waiting for the choreography to start.

"Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso-

The trio of women sang along at the top of their lungs, as loud as their already sore throats would allow. Chrissy couldn’t be bothered to care that she likely wouldn’t have a voice tomorrow, it was worth it to sing along.

"Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya

The singer and her group of dancers made their way towards their side of the stage, the crowd around them cheering for her as she approached. The three girls got their cameras ready as they snapped pictures of their favorite singer performing their favorite song just a dozen feet away from them. The male dancers fawned over her as the female dancers backed her up, dancing with her.

"Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

The singer moved back across the stage, doing her best to perform to all sides, giving each fan in the crowd a chance to see her and her dancers. She had been doing it the whole show, but the crowd predictably was even more lively for her big, hit single.

All too soon, the song ended with everyone on stage hitting a final pose. The singer was center stage, looking upwards towards the stage lights as the dancers posed around her. Cameras flashed through the people as everyone took their chance to get a decent shot as everyone stood still aside from their heaving chests as they caught their breath.

Chrissy, Linda and Cindy followed suit, cheering and taking pictures between their jumping and flailing. Chrissy was lifting her camera for her fourth or fifth photo of the pose - she lost count - when Linda grabbed her arm and her attention.

“Look!!!” Linda screamed as others in the crowd started reacting too. A tall, lanky figure had emerged from the wing, sauntering proudly towards the singer at center stage. He wore dark coloured jeans and a black t-shirt. His face wasn’t visible past the mop of inky curls when they first caught sight of him, but Chrissy felt a sinking feeling in her stomach at the silhouette. It was too familiar, a memory of her past, but surely it wasn’t-

More people from the crowd started screaming as the man crossed the stage. The singer finally dropped the pose, lowering her eyes to look at the crowd. She was smiling, face flushed from performing, but she soon noticed the crowd looking to the side.

Chrissy heard a man behind her, arguing with his girlfriend, the conversation fading in and out of the ruckus around her. “... -ed Coffin… telling you that’s him… think I know what “Shredder” Ed-…”

The pop star on stage looked surprised to see the man at first, but by the time he pushed through the cluster of back-up dancers around her, she was smiling up at him. The smile was brighter than any she’d given the audience on stage that night, a smile that shone in her eyes in a totally different way than performing on stage made them shine. The pop star started to speak, the microphone still held to her side not picking up any of the words. She didn’t say much before the man interrupted her, cupping the back of her head and dipping down to kiss her.

The crowd cheered through the passionate kiss. The back-up dancers around her reacted with joy and surprise at the public display of affection, some gasping while others applauded or laughed. 

The man pulled the woman to him, holding her like he might be able to absorb her into himself in front of everyone. The singer didn’t fight, but she was obviously caught off guard at first. It barely took a moment for her to drop the microphone, a loud thunking noise booming from the speakers as it clattered to the stage. Her arms wrapped around the man, returning his embrace as she kissed him back. The sound of camera shutters nearly drowned out the voices of the crowd as everyone rushed to take pictures of the pop star and her apparent boyfriend - some to brag to their friends, some to try to sell as the first appearance of the world’s newest celebrity couple.

Chrissy stayed frozen, camera to her side as she watched who she was sure was her high school ex-boyfriend, Eddie Munson, having a heavy makeout session on stage with her favorite pop star.

“Wait, is that…” Cindy asked, starting to also recognize the man who had yet to turn his face their way. Cindy looked at Chrissy, her frozen reaction being all the answer she needed. Cindy prodded Linda, trying to get her to smarten up to what was happening to their friend.

The couple on stage finally parted, catching their breath as they only had eyes for each other. The pop star looked up at her man like he was the only person in the whole state, let alone in a crowd of hundreds. The man’s hand, covered with large silver rings, cupped her cheek gently. From where she stood, Chrissy could see his thumb caress her cheek. Despite the warm summer day, Chrissy shivered as she felt a ghost of a touch, a memory, across her own cheek.

The man leaned in, speaking directly into the singer’s ear for a few seconds. She let go a second later as he released her, bending down to pick up the microphone that was left abandoned on the stage. The man turned towards the crowd, finally showing his face to the entire audience. Some cheered as they recognized the lead singer and guitarist for the heavy metal band, while others who didn’t listen to heavy music waited for a clue to who the man was.

“Is that Eddie?!” Linda gaped, looking up at the man who was once the boy dating her friend.

He was older now than he was then, obviously. His mop of curls were still present, if possible better cared for. He had inky tattoos up and down his visible arms and some high on his neck, coming out of the collar of his Metallica shirt. He’d grown a short goatee, but the dimple in his cheek was still visible as he addressed the crowd. He looked… Great was probably not a strong enough word for how good Eddie Munson looked.

“Your Ex? Like, Eddie Mu-oof” Linda continued until Cindy elbowed her harshly in the side. Linda finally noticed the pale, frozen expression on Chrissy’s face. “Oh.” She mumbled lamely.

“Who's a freak now, Indiana?” Eddie growled into the microphone, his voice raspier than Chrissy remembered it- age, constant performing and steady smoking had settled into his vocal chords in an appealing way. It reminded Chrissy how he used to sound after a show at The Hideout, voice rough from a night of screaming into the mic. 

Eddie tossed the microphone to a nearby dancer, not bothering to check if the unsuspecting man caught it (he did, barely) as he stuck his tongue out, devil horns atop his head. Just like that, Chrissy could see the boy underneath the age, tattoos and facial hair. The 18 year old who couldn’t promise her the world, but promised everything in his world, only for her to break his heart a year and some months later. Out of everyone there, Chrissy looked up and saw no one but Hawkins’ freak with a heart of gold Eddie Munson, but she realized Shredder Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin didn’t even know she was there. She hadn’t even realized he’d gotten signed, or the band was famous- when had that happened?

Eddie turned, planting another passionate, borderline messy kiss on the pop star's laughing lips. The crowd erupted in another set of cheers, harshly pulling Chrissy back to real life.

Eddie ended the kiss, resting his forehead against the singer’s. The two’s lips were moving through their wide smiles. Chrissy could only imagine the sweet nothings being exchanged. Once upon a time, in a different life, in a quiet trailer park, those sweet nothings had been reserved just for her.

Eddie patted the star on the ass before releasing her from his arms. She laughed as he jogged back to his spot in the wings, hand over her mouth like she couldn’t believe the kiss they’d just shared. Eddie didn’t bother to acknowledge the crowd as he left, no wave goodbye or lude gestures. Before he disappeared from view, he turned to blow a kiss in her direction.

Red faced but smiling gleefully, the starlet pretended to catch it, placing it on her cheek. She stared after him even once he was out of view, only remembering herself when the dancer handed her the microphone.

“Oh, um…” She stumbled her words into the mic, giggling bashfully. She lowered the mic and took a deep breath, physically shaking her limbs. “I was expecting that even less than the rest of you.” She joked once she brought the mic back up to her smudged lips. “Let’s, uh… Let’s move on with the show?” She laughed, unsure how else to move forward with the setlist. The crowd cheered their agreement as she nodded to all her dancers and musicians to get ready to start back up.

“Should we leave?” Cindy asked quietly. Linda stared at Chrissy, waiting for her response.

It was definitely a concert she’d never, ever forget.