#and of course. the vigilante shit dance

[dreaminginsteadofsleeping42]

Imagine Fearless era Taylor watching the eras tour. She'd be equal parts in awe and horrified.

[spacedace]

Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

-

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Kinktober Day 27: Lap Dances

Summary: Caught dancing in your bedroom to a popular sexy routine, your boyfriend's can't help but to ask you to give them a private show. Warnings: Lap dances, thigh riding, poly relationship, cum, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Kinktober Mention of the Day: @kewpikayo for helping me write this! I LOVE YOU, MY INTERNET WIFE <3

In the cozy confines of their shared apartment, the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the living room. Wade Wilson, or Deadpool as he was more commonly known, lounged on the couch, a half-eaten slice of pizza perched precariously on his knee. He absentmindedly flipped through TV channels, but his attention was drawn to the sounds of music filtering through from the other room. Logan Howlett, or Wolverine, was in the kitchen, fiddling with some leftover takeout while their girlfriend, you, danced freely to the pulsating beat of "Vigilante Shit" by Taylor Swift in their shared bedroom one door over. With every beat, your movements became more confident, laughter echoing through the space as you twirled and swayed around a lone chair. 

Wade’s attention piqued, he recognized the song of course from Tiktok. He is still in with the kiddos, okay? 

“Hey, Logan! You gotta see this!” he called out, barely able to suppress his grin. Logan emerged from the kitchen, a bemused expression on his face as he surfaced around the corner. 

“Damn, she’s got moves,” Logan said, leaning against the doorframe with an amused smirk.

“Just wait for it, peanut.” 

The time had come, your pretty little ass sat itself down on the chair, essentially giving it a lap dance. Unbeknowst to you, your seductive little performance had an audience that was becoming increasingly hard. With every sway of your hips, giggle of your chest, smirk that played on your lips; both of your boyfriends were completely entranced by you. As the song came to an end, the t-shirt you were wearing(Obviously one of your boyfriend’s oversized ones) came to hike up on your hip and put your thin panties on display. Some might say you did it on purpose, seeing them out of the corner of your eye, but history will allow it to go down as an little accident that landed you with Logan’s hand gripping into your thigh with a possesive hold. 

“You look so pretty dancing like that, doll.”

“I’ll say so! Say, why don’t you give honey badger and I here a private little show mhmm? Non-copyrighting of course—“

A soft growl left Logan’s throat, threatening Wade to shut up with whatever fourth wall shit he was up to. Bringing a calloused hand to your chin, the gruffer man led your gaze to his own piercing one. 

“So what do you say, doll? Wanna give me a little dance?” Your brain was foggy, clouded by the haze of immediate arousal that pooled in your panties. Nodding slolwy, you backed up to allow the both of them room to sit on the bed. Here they were, two of the most deadly and violent men in the world, sitting and begging for your body. The power was exhilaraing and didn’t fail to leave you weak at the knees. As they settled, you swayed your hips to an imaginary beat. A soft grin played on your hips as you approached them, hand coming to ghost over Wade’s shoulder as you walked past him. The urge to reach out and grab you, bring you in to his embrace was tantalizing. Sauntering over to Logan, his hard on was evident beneath his sweatpants. 

Straddling his legs, you sunk down and grinded on his ever growing erection. Heat pulsated between your bodies, a faint wet spot coming to settle on his pants from your already drenched panties. The beat played in your head, every thrust and ghosting of your hips across his illicting heavy moans from deep within his chest. He could smell you like this, so close to him. Sweet and dripping for him, like a sugar coated candy he couldn’t wait to taste. But just as soon as your game had started, you hopped off and moved to Wade; leaving Logan to heave out a mewl at the loss of friction. 

Plopping yourself on one of Wade’s thighs, your lips came to kiss and nip at his neck. You lips move to his jaw, peppering kisses along the skin, teeth nipping at his jawline. He can feel his self-control slipping further with each passing second, how delicious the friction of your cunt were against his thighs. So close to where he needed you most, yet so far. He's wanted this for so long, and now that he has it, he's not holding back. With each thrust and whispered praise from your sweet lips, Wade could feel the peak of his release nearing. His hands came to hold your hips in a vice grip, a silent plea for you to meet him where he needed you. 

“You like her like this, Wade? Want our girl to get you off with her sweet little cunt, mhmm?”

Logan had secretly come to sit behind the merc, hands fiddling with Wade’s balls as you continued your rythmic assault on his neck and thighs. How Logan could effortlessly string filthy words together with that dulcet voice of his, you would never know. But it sent both you and Wade into an animalistic frenzy, both of your hips speeding up. The coil in his stomach snapped and the both of you came, his hands coming to grip your shoulders with a bruising force. Taking a moment to enjoy the haze, you rested your head on Wade’s shoulders.Peering up at Logan with tear stricken eyes, lips formed in a small pout, you brought your hips to a halt. Whinning at any overstimulating friction you recieved from the fabric of your clothing and Wade’s thigh. Placing a soft kiss to his lips, you were met with eager lips and his tounge trying to get a taste of you. 

You should really dance more often.

[pawnshopbleus]

Vigilante shit: giving abby a sexy lap dance while she sits in a chair, and you wear sexy and sparkly lingerie during this whole ordeal to treat her. With matching high heel stilettos, of course, Bonus points if they're Louboutin boots.

I'm going to try my hand at headcanons for this one.

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬

Lawyer!Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

Summary - You give Abby a lap dance as a treat for working so hard.

Contains - lap dances, a mention of a fictional murder case (nothing detailed), suggestive movements, lesbians being lesbians, a chaste kiss, and a baby bit of smut at the end.

Authors Note - This is my first time doing headcanons so I hope i'm decent at them 🗣️ Also, anon, I'm not quite sure if you actually wanted a vigilante!Abby and if you did, I'm sorry for not delivering!

She’d come home, more tired than ever, but try her best to stay up. She makes her way up to her home office.

As she passes you, all she spares is a chaste kiss on the lips and a quick squeeze on your hips. She wants more and she can sense that you want more, but that’s all she can spare. There’s more paperwork to do and not enough time at the office to do it. She locks herself in her office, not wanting to be bothered.

You sense that she’s tired and frustrated. She told you a few facts about the case she’s been given. It’s a murder case. Abby hated those.

You've always respected her time alone. You knew that she could get snappy if anyone interrupted her work, but this time it was different. She has been working so hard these past few weeks and she deserves a break. Even if it’s a quick one.

You make your way to your closet and immediately find the lingerie Abby bought you two months ago. It was sparkly and red, perfect for the occasion.

You let your day clothes pool at your feet and slide all the straps and loops onto your body. A red mesh bra covered your tits and a red thong left nothing to the imagination. Thigh garters sat on your plush thighs and the belt that held them together snaked up your thighs and settled on the strap of your thong.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. You looked beautiful, sexy even, but it was missing something. Then in the corner of your eye, you saw the perfect shoes to match. You slipped on your red Louboutin's and nodded at your reflection in the mirror. You threw a trench coat on. You weren’t sure if it was yours or Abby’s, but it didn’t matter. It would be on the floor in seconds.

Your heels clicked on the wooden floor as you made your way to Abby’s office. The key to her office was in the pocket of the coat.

As you opened the door, Abby dismissed you, saying “Not right now, honey. I’m really busy and I-'' Her words got cut off as she inhaled once she saw you standing there in the doorway. The trenchcoat lay haphazardly on the floor. Your body is bare except for the red lingerie.

“I think you deserve a treat for working so hard.”

Abby got up from her seat, but you sat her back down. She needed to sit still for what you had in mind.

“You can look, but you can’t touch,” you warn as she reaches a hand out to caress your skin.

Abby’s hands form into fists as they sit in her lap.

You're dancing in front of her. Your hips swing to the music playing quietly from your phone. But Abby can’t hear the music. She’s just focused on the way your ass jiggles and how she’s going to mark it up later. That’ll teach you for teasing her

As the night goes on, Abby’s work is long forgotten as she fucks you with her strap on top of her desk. Your tits bounce as she thrusts into you. The wooden desk is a tad bit uncomfortable under your bare back, but that's the least of your worries. You just hope that Abby will let you cum this time.

That's what you get for teasing her 🤷🏿‍♀️

[star-wrote]

ANYFING WITH FLUFFY MUEPHY MACMANUS PLES PLES PLES PLES LMAOOO

Mo Stór

ao3 link

Characters: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

A/N: loving the energy in this request, anon. if you had a tail, it would be wagging LMAO. i’m sorry this took AGES, but i hope you enjoy anyway! <3

Warnings: cussing, bad irish accent writing, fluff, domestic bliss, seriously it’s so fluffy

Word Count: 817

Dating Murphy MacManus isn’t the easiest thing in the world. In fact, if you were to ask his brother, he’d say something along the lines of “Dunno how ya put up with us being vigilantes and shit, lass.”

You and Murphy have had countless talks about him and his brother’s “hobby,” half of them ending in you begging to join him. He would never let you, it’s too dangerous.

So you work your job to support yourself and the boys. You don’t mind it really, they treat you like their queen. Usually, they’re home when you get off work. Walking in to a warm dinner, even if it was a frozen pizza, was a feeling you wish for every good person on earth.

Other nights, like tonight, the brothers wouldn’t be home. You couldn’t help the feeling of anxiety that went to that pit in your stomach. You rush to the note on the refrigerator, ripping it from the magnet that also held up a picture of you and Murphy kissing. Both the picture and the magnet fell off the fridge as you read the note.

“Went to grab Chinese takeaway for dinner. Be back soon x.”

You sighed in relief as you read Murphy’s chicken scratch handwriting. You remembered the magnet and picture that fell, and quickly retrieved them off of the floor. You smiled as you pinned the picture back to the fridge and silently thanked Connor for capturing that moment on camera.

It had been a long night at McGinty’s, and Doc had kept the rounds coming. You had somehow convinced Murphy to dance with you; it must have been the David Bowie song playing. At the end of the song, he dipped you down like you were in some kind of romance movie, and gave you one of many kisses that you two have shared in that bar. Once he heard the click of the camera, he gently dropped you to the floor and shoved his brother, trying to grab the camera. You laughed on the bar floor as he successfully got the camera and pocketed it. He must not have been too upset about the picture since he printed it out the next day.

You heard the door open while you were reminiscing, interrupted by the familiar sound of the twins bickering; this time about chopsticks.

Connor calls your name as he shuts the door. “Are ya gonna use chopsticks?”

You smile as Murphy rolls his eyes and sets the food down on the table. He makes his way over to you and kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” you answer Connor, ���are you?”

He pulls two wrapped pairs of chopsticks out of his pocket and hands you one. “Of course! Murph here wouldn’t let me grab three because he doesn’t know how to use them.”

You look at Murphy who rolls his eyes again as he grabs your hips to slide past you and take a fork from the drawers. He grumbles out “I’m fuckin’ Irish, don’t need to know how, eejit.”

You giggle as you hug him from behind. “I’m pretty sure the Irish didn’t invent the fork either, Murphy.”

He tried to frown, but one side of his mouth lifted. “Are we gonna eat this shite or not?”

After dinner and the nightly movie, you and Murphy retired to your shared bedroom. You were glad that the movie finished because it was Connor’s night to pick, and he picked the worst possible movie on earth, as usual.

You had both changed into your sleep clothes, and brushed your teeth together, smiling at each other in the mirror.

This was your favorite part of the day. You and Murphy got to cuddle in bed and just look at each other. His hand was on your cheek and his thumb was smoothing out your skin.

“Mo stór.” Murphy interrupts the silence.

You smile at him. “What’s that?”

“My darling.”

You kiss his forehead. “Yeah, I am.”

He smiles and kisses your lips gently.

You rest your forehead on his. “For a second I thought you were asking me to marry you or something.”

Without hesitation, he answers, “I would.”

You bring your head up from the pillow and lift your eyebrows in surprise at him.

He notices the shock on your face and scrambles to say something else. “I mean I don’t have a ring for you or anything. But I would get one. I just know that God sent you to me. I may be a saint, but you’re an angel, lass.”

He grabs your hand and kisses the top of it.

“It seems like it would be a pretty divine marriage if you ask me.”

You feel a tear fall from your eye. “Oh my god.”

He smirks as he wipes the tear from your face and chides, “Lord’s name, love.”

You giggle and then nod.

“Let’s do it.”

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

BAU at the Eras Tour

main masterlist

spencer reid x famous reader universe

I think unlike the Rep Tour Rossi and Hotch both make it to this show

Penny's fav song at the moment is 'cruel summer' so you know she was SCREAMING that bridge (and all lyrics of all songs obvi)

the girls are just screaming with every bit of themselves 'The Man' that is THEIR SONG.

yn is basically serenading Spencer during 'lover' her eyes do not leave him

they definitely witness a proposal during 'Love Story'

also def is making glances at him during 'willow' while singing 'that's my man'

Penny does cry during 'Majorie'

Emily's favourite album is 100% evermore and she loved screaming 'champagne problems'

i think Hotch's favourite performance was 'tolerate it' not because he related to it, just because he loved the set and yn's acting

i think this is the first night she shakes her head after the line 'do the girls back hime touch you like i do' and yn looks towards him after that seeing Derek clap Spencer on the back, and she can't see and defiantly can't hear, but she's sure he's saying 'my man!'

Rossi doesn't know weather to be shocked, scared, or impressed when he hears fans screaming for yn to take them to church (i think he's mostly impressed with her power)

Spencer defiantly loves seeing yn sing the songs she wrote about him, but i think he also loves seeing the amount of fun she has on her face during songs like 'waneegbt' and 'Style' and 'Bejeweled'

when Hotch hears 'i want to play one more song of Red, do you have say 10 minutes to spare' he immediately knows this is his time to go for a snack/drink run for himself and the team (his kids)

JJ's favourite performance is 'tlgad' i don't know why, she just loves it, i know it

i haven't talked about Derek much, but i think his favourite album is '1989' partly cause he likes the vibe, partly because he's been conditioned to love it by Pen (loves 'Blank Space')

Penny also makes Derek (he wants to) dance to 'Shake it off' with her

surprise songs are 'Paris' and 'Sweet Nothing'

Paris was requested by Penny (but yn was really happy to sing it with Spencer in the crowd)

and of course yn was planning on singing Sweet Nothing and then whatever Penny suggested

surprise song speaches

"So on this tour i've been challenging myself to sing two different songs a night. Songs i haven't played live in a long time, or never at all. And i'm sure you've noticed, but if you haven't, i do have some friends here. And when i asked my friend, Penny, if she had a song she would like to request she said this one, so i hope you enjoy, here's 'Paris'...

"This song, i wrote with someone very special. And i knew i wanted to play, given he is in the crowd tonight.. so here is 'Sweet Nothing'

now i know this is what you came here for, vigilante shit.

Spencer doesn't know what to do with himself, because on the one hand his hot and sexy and beautiful wife is doing a dance... that is doing a lot for him

also forgot to say they are married at this point

but on the other hand he is standing next to her parents and all his closest friends who he sees as his family, it's just very awkward

and yn glances at Spencer and the team when she sings "someone told your white collar crimes to the FBI..."

yn and Spencer are making eye contact (as best they can) during 'Mastermind' Spencer is grinning and blushing, the team just loving after all these years how in love their little boy wonder still is

and lastly during 'Karma' the girls (plus Derek) are all dancing, while Spencer is walking backstage to see his wife as soon as she gets off stage

~taglist~

@universallyblizzardlove @ferrjulie @random000000sblog

[swiftieblyth]

I have an idea! Tom and y/n going to The Eras Tour!!!

They get invited and that makes her so excited that she puts Tom to help her make friendship bracelets so they could interact with some fans. Also she is so excited th get them matching outfits.

During the concert they get to exchange friendship bracelets, dance during Lover, y/n gets emotional during fearless and speak now bc she remembered her young years and when the Midnights set comes she says to Tom “I would let you enjoy this one” while Taylor starts with Vigilante Shit.

Then at the end Tom says to Y/N something like “you should learn the reputation dances or at least the vigilante shit one… you know, for me” !!!!!!

TOO MUCH TEXT IM SORRY

Era’s tour

a/n- sorry it took me so long I’m dealing with a lot of crappy things right now 😭😭😭

warnings- long, slut

“Tommy!” You screeched, smile on your face as you looked at your text from Taylor.

“What?” Tom asked, running in, fear in his face.

“Taylor invited us to come to her tour!” You squealed, huge smile on your face.

“That’s amazing love!” He smiled, coming up to you, wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m so excited!” You smiled, turning around, looking up at his face. “Oh my gosh!!! We have to get matching outfits!!! What era should we go as? I mean probably lover, right?”

“What ever you want darling,” Tom smiled, kissing your head.

“Wait, what about Lady? Do you think Rachel and Josh will watch her? I mean, I want to take her, but I don’t want to leave her alone in a hotel for six hours.”

“I think they’ll be more than happy to watch her.”

“Oh my gosh! Tommy, you have to help me make friendship bracelets to exchange! Please!”

“Oh course,” he smiled, looking down at you, chuckling a little.

“What?” You asked, smiling up at him, hands on his chest.

“You’re adorable.” Your face turned bright red from embarrassment as you hid it in his chest. “It’s not a bad thing, love. I love that about you.”

“Really?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Really. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. So much!”

💜💜💜

“I’m so excited!” You smiled, as you walked to the box, hand in hand with Tom.

As you walked fans walked up to you two and took pictures with you, and traded bracelets with you. You were already having a blast and loved that Tom was here with you.

“Y/N,” you heard a familiar voice call.

“Travis!” You gasped, a big smile on your face as you let go of Tom’s hand to hug Travis.

“Hey baby girl,” he smiled, kissing your head. “How’s my favorite celebrity daughter doing?”

“Good! How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Hey, Scott.” You smiled, hugging Taylor’s dad, Scott Swift.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He smiled, hugging you.

You let go and grabbed Tom’s hand again. “Travis, Scott, this is my boyfriend Tom. Tom this is Travis and Scott.” You let out.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” He smiled, shaking Travis’s hand, then Scott’s. “Both of you.”

💜💜💜

The intro started and you started screaming and jumping as you waited for Taylor to come out. Tom held your hand and watched with love at how excited you were.

You scream sang the lyrics to the opening songs then screamed as she did her opening speech. She started playing Lover and you looked up at Tom, a smile on your face and love in your eyes. Same as him.

“Dance with me, love?” He asked, putting out his hand as Taylor started singing.

“I would love to,” you smiled, grabbing his hand and waltzing around to lover.

You danced around the box singing with Tom as Taylor sang.

“Ladies and gentleman will you please stand,” you sang, looking up at Tom. “With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.”

Tom kissed your head and let go of your hands fast enough to take off one of his rings, grabbing your hand again to slide it on your finger. “I’m going to marry you one day love.” He smiled, kissing you.

“I love you so much,” you breathed after your pulled away.

💜💜💜

Tears came to your eyes as the Fearless era started because it reminded you of when you were in highschool and all your dumb teenage loves and how you listened to these songs. You remembered how you felt yelling these songs while driving in your car on the way to school.

Tom saw a tear fall and wrapped his arm around you. “I love you baby.” He whispered, kissing your head.

💜💜💜

When Taylor came out in her Speak Now dress and started singing Enchanted you and Tom danced around together singing it to each other.

💜💜💜

The night was flying by and Taylor had just finished her surprise songs, but didn’t get up from her piano yet.

“Um,” Taylor started, looking around. “If it’s okay with you, we’re gonna do something different tonight. So usually I only play two surprise songs. But there’s a couple in the crowd tonight that I now dedicate a song to. It’s a newer song, but I wrote it years ago. And about a year or so ago this happened to someone that’s like a daughter to me.” You gasped as you grabbed Tom’s hand, tears forming in your eyes as you know where she is going with this. “And I remember her calling me crying from her hotel room in, I think it was like Germany. She told me what happened and I just felt terrible. I told her that I went through the same thing and I played her this song. Ladies and gentlemen Y/N Y/L/N is in the house!”

The crowed started cheering as Taylor started playing the piano again.

“But if I’m all dressed up they might as well be looking at us. And if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once. If I’m gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love.

Send that code, he’s waiting there the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air. Everyone wants him that was my crime. The wrong place at the right time. And I brake down, then he’s pulling me in. In a world of boys he’s a gentleman.”

You looked up at Tom tears streaming down your face as you wrapped your arms around his s tight as you could.

“I love you so much!” You let out. “Thank you so much for not letting me go.”

“I would never my love. I love you more than anyone,”

he explained, holding you tight and kissed the crown of your head.

💜💜💜

As Taylor started singing Vigilante Shit you looked at Tom and smirked. “I’ll let you enjoy this one.”

“You know,” he smirked back, pulling you closer to him, tickling your rib. You should learn this dance. You know, for me.”

[zedortoo]

HAPPY DAY AFTER WEED DAY err here's how I think certain characters act when under the influence of alcohol or weed

Peppino:

Relatively good natured when drunk, can get a bit boisterous at times but never on purpose. Used to have a drinking problem after the war but now drinks a responsible amount.

Usually just. Falls asleep when he gets high. Too much stress on the poor bastard already, his body takes any chance to conk the fuck out. When he's awake he's quiet, almost in his own little world.

Gustavo:

Does stupid shit when drunk. Takes any dare and makes it ten times more dangerous. Also seems to somehow be invincible while under the influence of alcohol, none of his stunts ever go wrong. Often climbs people taller than him.

Laughs at anything while high. He would laugh at a fly spot on a wall. One time he was doubled over barely able to catch a breath because he thought a painting of a duck was the funniest shit ever. Loves to cuddle and pet brick, who takes advantage of his inebriated state to ask for lots of treats which Gustavo gives out without a second thought.

MR STIIIIIIICK:

Very happy drunk! A bit of a lightweight but once he gets a buzz he wants to be EVERYBODY'S friend. It's like his entire personality does a 180. All of a sudden he's laughing at everything and not starting arguments or trying to scam people. Perhaps drinks a bit more than someone his age should but he still manages. Loves to sing and dance even if he has a terrible voice and two left feet.

Gets incredibly heightened emotions under the influence of weed. In most cases this leads to him freaking the FUCK out and having like three panic attacks. Thinks the government put a chip in his skin and considers whether or not to pull it out. He doesnt do this every time he gets high though, when he's with people he trusts he relaxes a lot more. Doesn't talk much. Still dealing with heightened senses but in a more palatable way, a fluffy blanket is like heaven to him. like peppino, often conks out as his body desperately tries to catch up on sleep.

Pepperman:

Surprisingly lightweight for someone his size. Despite being a bigass pepper it only takes him as much as the average Joe to get drunk. Often gets experimental with his paintings, had dipped himself in paint and cannonballed naked (or as naked as he can be) onto canvases to make art with his cheek prints or some shit. Has a taste for nicer alcohol and orders gay ass drinks whenever he goes out. Turns his metaphorical nose up at regular beer.

Mellows out a lot when high. He becomes a lot less self centered and is able to talk about things other than him and his art. Doesn't smoke, only does edibles but likes making ceramic pipes and shit for his friends. Sometimes he can get emotional and go into tiny pepper mode, which is why he doesn't tend to get high alone.

Vigilante:

Can handle his alcohol relatively well. could drink most of the cast under the table any day. If he gets too drunk he begins to melt into a puddle, struggling to keep a form. Makes his own incredibly potent moonshine, which would probably kill a small dog. Loves doing karaoke while shitfaced, is actually good at it.

Literally just fucking melts while high. First time it happened, everyone thought he was dead because he wasn't making any movements or noise. No eyes no nothing. He says he enjoys himself, but noone really knows because. Well. He's a goddamn puddle. Tends to trip sit for the more anxious, has stopped Mr Stick from having a heart attack at least twice. Of course, stick never thanks him when he's sober because he's an asshole, but he has endless praises while high.

Noise:

ROWDY DRUNK. ANGRY DRUNK. BITER. keep a wide berth when out drinking with him, he'll pick a fight with whoever he thinks looks at him funny. He won't attack any of his friends though, in fact he becomes very protective. Has growled like a feral animal multiple times- though to be fair, he does that sober, too.

Like pepperman, becomes less painful while high. You can hold a conversation with him without him insulting your entire bloodline. Actually a pretty chill guy most of the time, laughs at dumb stuff. He does get very cuddly though and will wrap himself around whoever is available. Usually this is noisette, but he'll settle for anyone. One time he curled up and fell asleep in Peppermans arms.

Noisette:

Doesn't drink much, doesn't like the way alcohol tastes unless it's flavoured as something else. On the rare occasion she drinks enough to get inebriated, she's just very giggly but surprisingly quiet. Just loves to listen and laugh with her friends. Surprisingly cooks very well when drunk. Gets very red in the face.

When she's high, she also doesn't talk much. She just giggles and stims alot, likes soft things even more than usual. Gets very sleepy, which everyone thinks is adorable. She's always attached to Noise when she's high, snuggled up to him and hiding her face. She just wants love and Noise is happy to give it.

Fake Peppino:

Alcohol doesn't work on them, per se. They don't get mentally impaired but, like Vigi, fakey becomes very melty. He never seems to mind, in fact it seems to be relaxing to him to let go of his physical form. Although he can't actually get drunk, he loves to mimic the behavior of his buddies when they're shitfaced, which can lead to him doing dumb shit.

Noone can actually tell if weed has an effect on him or not. He acts similar to the way he does when given alcohol, becoming very melty, and seems very relaxed- though, nobody really knows if they're actually high or just pretending to fit in. The one key is that their sclera go BRIGHT red. Almost neon when compared to the regular bloodshot high look. Maybe they're trying to mimic that too, but it's a source of a lot of laughs for the rest of the crew.

Pizzahead:

SAD drunk. Actually, no, not really? Whenever they drink, they start crying, but nobody can place whether it's happy or sad. Very lightweight, two glasses and the tears start pouring. Nobody can figure out if they're happy or sad tears, because Pizzahead just blubbers and tries to hug people the entire time. Has the ability to simply sleep until his hangover wears off, which often leads to him just curling up wherever and snoring away until the afternoon.

Gets even more mischievous when high. Rubs their hands together and plots stupid shit. Practices his evil laugh. Instead of his usual closed eyes, when he's high they bulge RIGHT out and scare everyone because he looks like he's glaring directly at them. Has a habit of lacing the edibles with psychedelics, freaking everybody out, which is why he's banned from bringing his own material to the sesh because it'd be too difficult to just ban him outright.

Gerome:

Literally cannot get drunk. He's a rock, it's not possible. Likes the taste of beer, though, and drinks it like it's water. this has lead to people who dont know him to presume he's an alcoholic, which he laughs at. Dude just doesn't care.

Surprisingly enough, however, weed does work on him. How? Cartoon laws, idk. Gets *slightly* more talkative when high, but it's mainly just nods and mhms, unless he's with John, in which case he'll be yapping his brothers ear off. He only does it in private, though. Nobody can know how talkative he can get.

John:

Can actually get drunk, unlike his brother. it's like a party game to see if he can get even the slightest bit tipsy because he's just so massive. Could beat anyone in a drinking competition and still be sober while the other person is blackout drunk. The only time he got fully sloshed was when everyone worked together to bring him several barrels of liquor. They had to keep an eye on him for the rest of the night because he REALLY wanted to smash pizzaheads skull in. Slept for a week afterwards, everyone thought he died.

Doesn't get high often, mainly because it makes him more emotional. He doesn't enjoy talking about his experiences in the tower while sober, but when he's high it kinda just... Spills out. He doesn't know how to stop it but next thing he knows he's crying and feeling like an idiot, not matter how many people attempt to comfort him. If he's in a good mood pre-weed, though, he's usually fine, just having a good laugh with everyone else and not batting an eye when people use him as a rock climbing surface.

YAYYY hope these were readable uhhh I have never drank or smoked before because I am a good Christian boy (lie) so sorry if these aren't accurate 😢

[medusas-graveyard]

Unhealthy Obsession.

Okay wait actually, remembering how it took a while for Pariah Dark to get sealed off just means that they were some bending in his sworn oath, right?

Okay another angst prompt, consider; softly insane! Danny.

(Tw: Dark!Danny, morally ambiguous? No one's having a great time tbh but like it's poetically soft imo. Also our boy's officially lost it :∆ his words are cryptic.)

Final warning: This is depressingly sad for Danny's part, sure. But he's also unjustified so I'll classify this as [Dead Dove: Do not eat]

Danny's adopted by the Waynes just like, a bit little short time before his coronation (also he's around 16-18 years old because I'm dragging the desperate for validation because he never felt seen unless someone praises him trope). At that time span he's this very rarely seen brother that's absolutely trying his best between juggling his very impromptu 'how to be a proper monarch' lessons (read: the ancients drilling manors, rules, oaths, etc to his poor head because they don't want a repeat Pariah Dark) and being a present family members because he genuinely loves them. (They know about the vigilante stuff and the Waynes understandably backed away from convincing him, seeing how Danny already has shit ton on his plate.)

Until one day something big happens that almost ended the world, and Bruce dies. It was just him and his dad there, with no other bird or bat in sight. No one knew yet— no one needs to know. Kronos' carefully crafted human, no— prince finally shatters after all the pressure, and all he thinks is how unfair the world has been to him.

It's a very, very slow descent to insanity, what he had been through.

He lost so much, he won't lose anything again. And amidst the eerie scenery of a prince cradling the body of his father, was the sight of himself stitching him back together— giving him a new life. He whispered apologies after apologies to the unconscious man; and for a second Kronos would've pitied him.

Except he didn't. He knew he can't.

After all the chaos they finally had each other again, and Danny stood contently as he watched Alfred personally tend to his family's wounds, big or small. He also watched as his family bicker with each other after all they've been through, and realized something; all of this will die.

Alfred, Bruce, his brothers, Cass and Steph— they're all painfully mortal. He'll outlive his family, and in the end he'll be alone. He doesn't want to be left alone.

And what is to do when you realize your family is painfully, awfully mortal?

...you either curse them with immortality, or place a generational curse on them so you'll all meet in every life, of course! (Oh, did I mention about cursing your family so they'll all get reincarnated everytime they die to make them find each other by everytime?)

... except these curses are incredibly forbidden, because they go against the nature of life and death.

Which leads to the sight of Danny being cuffed from his neck, his arms, his wrists, and his legs. His expression is deadly calm, he smiles softly contrast to the Waynes that are watching in horror. He watches as his family's face contorts to something unreadable when his captors reads over his charges, and he couldn't bring himself to feel remorse.

"By the name of the Infinite realms, Prince Phantom is sentence to imprisonment, for the charges of tempering with the cycle of life and breaking the Royal oath."

"He will be serving until the day of his coronation by the terms of the infinite realms, under the watchful gaze of the ghost of time. The guilty may be there farewells before they are sent to their sentence."

Danny smiles at them; soft but undeniably cruel. He bows at them, like how he would bow on days where his father would teach him how to ballroom dance.

"this is not a goodbye, it is merely a see you later." He starts, voice full of merit. "May we meet again, and may the circumstances of our next meeting a better one."

His smile turns sharper then, the contrast between it and his soft eyes sends an unpleasant shiver. "For our destiny are tied, and our Fates will overlap with each other."

"You cannot change our destiny. For the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and our bond has tied us together."

"None of you will run from me— none of you can run from me."

"Because I will chase you down and hunt you until our family is complete."

[joesheistyy]

Driving in his Benz - Joe Burrow

I've never been a taylor swift girlie but midnights is iconic and I was inspired by vigilante shit sooooo here you go :) more angst? yes please! ending in some fluff? count me in!

2.2k words || cussing || some harsh grabbing

-------

Of course your evening was spent bickering with Joe. This was the second night in a row you two just couldn’t get on the same page about a handful of things. Once again going to bed angry with each other, backs facing each other.

In your late high school days, the way you’d cool down from heightened emotions was by going for a drive. Could you do this in Cincinnati? Sure, but it wasn’t as soothing as driving back roads in southern Indiana. It was definitely much preferred to do during the day. As you fell asleep, you made a plan to get up and just drive to get your head on straight when you awoke. 

When you woke up, you did not have the energy to deal with Joe. Needing to be caffeinated before any hard thoughts came to mind, you decided to go to Panera to grab a coffee and a charged tea. Of course those drinks would be spaced out throughout the day, you just needed an out for the morning. This would probably be another item Joe would want to bicker about-your caffeine intake. 

You put on your favorite oversized crewneck and Lululemon leggings before you left the bedroom, making as little noise as possible. What you didn’t know was that your stirring before getting out of bed woke Joe up. He wanted to start the day off on a good note, hoping to talk things through over breakfast, but you had already gone down the stairs and grabbed the keys to his new Benz.

The sleek black car was parked in the garage, windows yet to be tinted. You lifted the garage door before turning on the car and picking out your “bad bitch” playlist. Joe was able to hear the garage door open and close, he knew driving was your go to outlet to clear your head, so he let it go. 

After an hour or so, you had picked up your drinks and were driving with the windows down, cool spring air flowing throughout the nice car. You pulled up to a stop light, blasting Vigilante Shit by Taylor Swift and singing along with the song, dancing in a way that made you feel hot. What you didn’t know was that the car stopped next to you knew who you were and snapped a video of you in your own little world. Swiftly posting it to twitter. 

Joe was sitting on the couch at home, almost in a wallowing state. He just wanted to talk things through in a calm manner because he was just as tired of bickering as you were. Little did he know, the video of you was blowing up on twitter. His phone pinged from his pocket with the special text tone for his manager. 

Yo dude, what is your girl up to? There’s a video of her blowing up all over twitter.

Joe had no clue what you were doing, opting to trust you to clear your head without causing a scene. 

I’ll handle this. Was Joe’s response to his manager. 

You continued on the windy back roads, blasting Girls in the Hood by Megan Thee Stallion. A text came through the car’s ApplePlay. 

What the fuck are you doing, y/n? Get your ass home right now. The car read out to you. 

You let out an aggressive sigh, opting for that over tears. “Hey Siri, text Joey Boy back and respond with you don’t own me, don’t tell me what to do.”

That ring states otherwise honey. What made you think you could take my car without asking? Get home now, it’s about time we sat down and talked. 

These words making your heart sink to just about you asshole. Your anxiety had been heightened all week with the constant bickering. The phrase or anything close to we need to talk always seemed to make any situation worse in your opinion. 

“Hey Siri, respond to Joey Boy and say Fine, as you wish.”

You headed home, opting to take the longest route possible. Pulling into the neighborhood of your shared home, you took some deep breaths to try to calm your anxiety. As you opened the garage door to park the car, you saw an angry faced Joe waiting at the door to enter your house. 

“Y/n, what the fuck?” he emphasized in a stern tone, shooting daggers with his eyes. 

“What? I really don’t understand what you’re so upset about,” you huffed out, tossing your hands in the air as you approached the door to enter the house. 

“You don’t understand? How could you not understand?” he led you into the house, anger obvious not only his voice but in his tense back and shoulders. 

“Joe, I just wanted to clear my head. Why can't I do anything without getting bitched at?” You retorted, hanging the keys on the hook by the garage door. 

“Don’t start this with me, y/n. I’m not happy with you,” 

“Yeah, obviously,” You rolled your eyes, setting your drink down on the counter. 

Joe swiftly turned around, once again glaring at you in a way you had never seen before. His blue eyes were dark, eyelashes framing his gorgeous orbs in a scary yet beautiful way. His fist slammed on the counter as he began to take a deep breath. You could only imagine what was coming. 

“Oh my god, y/n,” He began as he rolled his eyes and huffed, “do you have any idea what you’ve done? First, you take my car without asking me, then you get caught and recorded in my car that you didn't ask to use, singing some stupid ass song about driving in a Benz or whatever the fuck it was, dancing and looking like an absolute fucking idiot,” he continued as his cheeks and neck turned a red as bright as a rose. Arms flying around as another outlet for his anger. 

You looked at him with emptiness filling your mind and body. He never had a problem before with you taking his car out. Plus, he always thought your singing and dancing was goofy, who did he think he was to call you all these things?

Looking up at him yet trying to avoid his scary eyes, you could see his breath hitch in his chest. “Babe, I-” you began.

“Don’t babe me, you're in the dog house with me right now,” he said, beginning to walk away. 

“So what? We’re not gonna talk about this? You’re just gonna bitch at me over something that I do on a normal basis? Alright Burrow, have your way for now. I’m done,” you directed yourself to the stairway. Joe swiftly came up behind you and grabbed your wrist with haste. That’s gonna hurt later.

“No no, you’re not done. We're talking about this now,” Joe forced you to follow him, pushing you down to the couch which caused you to swiftly get up. Inches from his chest, you look up at him, finger poking his chest with as much force as you could handle. “Don’t you ever handle me like that again,” you jabbed at his chest. Pushing through his strong stance, you headed toward the stairs determined to get away from him. 

Joe didn’t chase after you this time, he had practice in an hour and decided he didn’t want to get into it with you. His practice bag was in your shared bedroom where you had locked yourself in. As you heard his footsteps approach, you grabbed his bag and tossed it onto the floor outside the door, making sure to close it with a harsh nature. You could hear him sigh as he retrieved his grey bag from the floor. You took a couple deep breaths before sliding down the door, blocking any entrance with your weight. 

You hated to cry in front of Joe, so once you heard the garage door close, you felt safe to come out of your little pity party. Heading downstairs to give yourself a change of scenery, you plopped down on the couch where just a few minutes ago, you were scolding Joe for grabbing you in a way that was uncomfortable and not in a sexual way. Tears beginning to fall uncontrollably. You pulled your legs up to your chest, opting to put your crewneck over them so you could curl into a little ball and cry. 

You soon heard footsteps. What the fuck, Joe is at practice, isn’t he? You thought to yourself as you lifted your head to look around and see if anyone was there. After determining that you were alone, you went back to your little sob fest. All the emotions from the previous bickering fights catching up to you. The way Joe yelled at you really did your emotions in. 

Footsteps approached you and you felt a weight dip down on the couch next to you. You jolted out of your crewneck, craning your neck to your left to view Joe sat down next to you. You blinked a few times to try to clear your cloudy eyes as you pulled your body out of your crewneck ball. He sighed and tried to scoot a bit closer to you, only causing you to scoot further away from him. 

“Can we please not do this right now?” you sobbed. He sighed again. 

“Honey we need to talk,” he began. There were those words again. 

“You have practice and you need to go,” you began. He reached out to grab your hand. Your left hand to be exact. That alone scared you more than anything considering the absolute rock sitting on your ring finger.

“I texted Zac that I’m gonna be late. You’re more important to me right now,” he stated as his features softened. You scooted into him a little more, opting to rest your head onto his shoulder. The lack of physical touch lately didn’t help with all the bickering. Your sobs wracked your ribs. Joe knew you hated to cry in front of him, but it was inevitable after the recent events. 

“Joe I can’t stand this bickering and arguing anymore,” you sobbed again. He took an opportunity to give you a soothing back rub. 

“I know, y/n. I can’t either. Everything has just been eating me up and building up lately and we need to address all this,” he said, slowly turning to look at you.

“Why do you yell at me the way you do, Joe? It’s so hard to want to be kind back when I get talked to the way I do when you’re upset,” you spoke with shaky breaths. “I feel like I have to defend myself to you when you raise your voice with me. That’s why when we bicker, it feels never ending. How am I supposed to stand there and take criticism for every little disagreement or every little thing that makes you upset?”

“I don’t know, babe. I just get so lost in my own emotions that sometimes things just come out that way,” he began. 

“No Joe, they always come out that way. But when you start attacking me for things like singing and dancing, that’s when it goes overboard. You can’t keep criticizing me for things I do when you’re worked up,” you said with a more stern tone. 

“I’m sorry, y/n. I’m going to try to be better,” he said, grabbing at your hand again and fiddling with your ring. “This ring is supposed to represent my undying love for you and I’ve done the opposite. I promise I’m going to work to be a better fiancee so I can be the best husband. I love you y/n and I can’t lose you. I’m so sorry for the way the cards have fallen lately. I deserve to be blamed and torn into,” he said, looking down in embarrassment. 

“Babe I’m not gonna bitch back at you the way you yelled at me earlier. While I don’t appreciate the way I’ve been talked to lately, you don’t deserve to be talked to like that. I just need your help in talking things out before shit hits the fan, got it?” you looked at him, waiting for him to look into your eyes and agree. He nodded, leaning in to kiss your forehead. You both sighed as you leaned into his chest for comfort. He held you so close and tight like it was the thing he knew how to do best. You both needed that tight embrace. 

“No more talking to each other like that, got it?” you pulled away as you spoke.

“Of course, future Mrs. Burrow. We can settle things like adults because we are adults,” he showed a soft smile.

“Now go to practice, Burrow. You shouldn’t keep coach and the team waiting. I’ll be here to hug you later. I’m just glad we talked at least something out. We can talk more out when you get back,” you held out your pinky and wrapped his into yours. 

“I love you, y/n. I’ll be back later,” he got up and rushed out the door. You sighed and leaned back into the couch in hope that more talking to each other would help cure all your anxieties. Maybe even going for a drive, together...

-----

lmk if y'all want a part two, I've got some ideas up my sleeve!!!!!!

[lightcassian]

Some random fanfic recs that I enjoy.

Scum villain's self saving system.

Shen Yuan of no relation by Gemi [210,748 words, Rated E, On-going]

Summary:

There is a boy digging a hole.

There should be nothing special about him. He is one of many children digging holes, each and every one eager to get a spot on Cang Qiong Mountain. At a distance, there was black hair and shabby clothes.

Yue Qingyuan could not look away from him.

-

In a world where they are the same age, Shen Yuan is going to try his very best to become the best friend of his favorite protagonist and prevent the blackening of Luo Binghe! Only, there is a problem.

Shen Yuan looks way too much like the scum villain himself, Shen Qingqiu.

ATLA.

Sisyphus by jackaranda [29,217 words, Rated M, On-going]

Summary: “You found the Avatar,” the man says. It’s not a question.

“Yes,” It reeks hollow on Zuko's tongue.

“Then you can find my daughter.”

[Zuko is very good at finding things. People take notice.]

blade of silver, forge of blue by MikkiOfTheAnbu [28,202 words, Rated T, On-going]

Summary:

“Blessed Spirit, we thank you for the gift of this child’s life. We are forever in your debt.” The whole village is kneeling now, even the tiniest toddlers flopped down on their stomachs doing their best approximation of a bow. “Please, won’t you give us a name to call you? We would like to properly express our gratitude.”

Oh.

Well shit.

(Where Zuko saves a little Earth Kingdom girl from drowning, the villagers think he's a Spirit, build him a shrine, and long story short, a fake story about the Blue Spirit who dances with dragons suddenly becomes very real.)

Batman.

Yes And by limeta [37,728 words, Rated M, Completed]

Summary:

The Joker "yes ands" his way into having a mental breakdown. Kidnapping Tim Drake and a bunch of Rogues isn't helping. Especially because he isn't the Joker, of course, but Bruce Wayne's newest secretary. Cut him some slack, he's just trying to run some errands!

BNHA.

Accidentally, Tragically, Heroic by whatagoodegg [118,478 words, Rated T, On-going]

Summary: about the next generation of heroes, Shigaraki goes to stake out the UA entrance exam... And accidentally ends up passing? And getting accepted?? Wait, but he doesn't actually have to attend the school, right...? The school full of heroes, just waiting to sniff out the fact that he's a villain? The school he's about to attack??? Oh, there's no way this is going to end well…

Or: one of those accidental vigilante Midoriya fics, except it’s Shigaraki and heroism

-

Anyway I have way more recs if yall want

(　＾∀＾)

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Jason Todd/Frank Castle ship manifesto and rec list!

For @dc-marvel-crossovers Pool Noodle Party.

These two are both scary motherfuckers when they want to be. Between the guns and the vengeance — yeah, the surface-level similarities are clear. But they’re also people whose core motivations are a) loss and b) a sense of justice. They lost faith in the ability of others to protect the people they love, and so they decided to do it themselves. They get a lot of shit from the other vigilantes in their respective circles for their methods of doing so; I think the lack of judgment coming from the other person would absolutely draw them together.

And at first glance, I think they can both easily be written off as angry characters, but both of them have a massive soft, caring streak under all that Kevlar and grumbling. It comes out mostly in the way they look out for (and fight on behalf of) the innocent — women, children, dogs… they’re both natural caretakers, but they’re rarely allowed to express it, and I think that caretaking is a huge part of what I love about the idea of their dynamic. They only allow themselves to be soft and to be taken care of because they’re with someone who also respects their strength.

Fic recs! Most of this tag belongs to the amazing @mightymightygnomepriest and @bittercape! Please go check out their work if you want more of this pairing — every one of their fics is great, not just the ones I’m quoting here.

forever trusting who we are by @bittercape - like I said, it’s the caretaking for me! This is peak softness, and I love the lived-in feel of the unspoken communication that comes from a long term relationship.

The rhythm of checking and mending gear is a familiar one, and Jason is comforted by the hiss of the whetstone against an already-sharp blade, as familiar as breathing.

Slightly less familiar is the way Frank leans against him when he comes back from packing up their gear. His weight is heavy against Jason’s back, seeking contact like a big cat.

can’t start a fire without a spark by @mightymightygnomepriest - Frank is literally in the rain trying to rescue a puppy in this. It’s so ridiculously endearing. There’s also caretaking (of course) and some sexy sexy sex.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason catches sight of a calendar. He wonders if he’s been a good enough boy this year that Santa’s delivered him a dilf.

Probably not.

Even if We’re Just Dancing in the Dark by @daddyswickedqueen - a remix of the previous fic on the list, but god damn I love Sagacity’s take on this premise. The inner voices of both characters are so well done.

There’s a low laugh that could, in other meteorological conditions, make Jason shiver. Right now it’s too fucking cold and wet to tell.

Jason stays right where he is. This goddamn puppy is going to be warm and dry tonight or he’s going to commit war crimes. Again.

Parting is all we know of Heaven, (—and all we need of Hell.) by llamallamaduck - Witcher fusion! I know very little about the Witcher fandom but was able to follow without problems, and the glimpse at the world was more than enough to have me wanting more. Great characterizations.

“I’ve been around for a while, kid,” says the Witcher, shifting. Automatically, Jason’s eyes snap to track the movement. You can’t not pay attention to that shit. He’s not even making any threatening gestures; he’s rubbing his temples with one hand and is propped up by the other. Nevertheless, Jason wants to curl his shoulders, bare his teeth and show he’s not easy prey.

Make This Easy by @thepartyresponsible - it has once again been 0 days since somebody in the crossover server recced a TPR fic, and for good reason. Significantly darker than the others on this list; this is not a happy story. But it involves one of my favorite descriptions of Jason of all time:

There’s some kind of predator under his skin, the same way there’s one under Frank’s. Maybe this kid’s teeth run a little closer to the surface, but Frank still recognizes his own. It’s just weird as hell to find someone like him caged up in a body like that. He wonders if that’s what he looked like in his early twenties, some unholy mashup of empty eyes and soft edges, baby fat barely lingering on a body already smelted into a weapon.

He was never that pretty, but Russo used to be. Maybe that burning match energy is something boys like them learn early. Self-immolation as a form of self-protection. Nobody’s going to get their hands on them if they’re already on fire.

[everytaylorswiftsongisaboutcats]

What’s one more day of clowning?…

Here we go final leg of the Eras Tour😭

(RIP my hope of tickets☠️)

Miami Florida N1

— (I’m gonna update this as I go cause I need somewhere to speak in hyperspeed Swiftie screams) while streaming —

Lover Creamsicle/Lava Girl (despite the Twitter debates (yes I said Twitter😂) it looks the usual coral to me at least) though possible new necklace? w Normal speech + addressing the final leg & fantastic crowds to celebrate these albums

New Fearless dress! (Possibly my favorite thus far)

— I’m thinking Elsa for a “Mastermind” name? … trying to come up with some pasta suggestions for “Swiftbowl” but honestly all I can think is “buddy the elf spaghetti”😂

A lot going on at the moment for Red with usual ATW speech & announcing the confirmed ✨RAIN SHOW💖

Swirls for Speak Now enchanted

NEW REPUTATION SUIT WITH MATCHING MIC & DIFFERENT SNAKE (its giving Karen… which @taylornation is of course trolling the clowns with)

— Maybe more green snake intro? (otherwise normal) It seems to be more green lighting?🤡 Normal Rep setlist (I guess I’m going with Christmas themes today… cause all I want is Debutation?😂) also lwymmd has red Rep suit box… idk if it’s new? Mostly just afraid new suit is from “old stinky” (who I love) having holes…

Berry Folkmore/Everlore dress, basic Betty & Champagne problems speeches (or at least nothing officially big?⬇️), + usual setlist (the rain pausing & beginning in Marjorie was beautiful though) & while I see some Tweets saying Willow has new synths I personally did not hear them or see lighting differences in coloring (maybe it’s my screens? It seems usual green & coloring) OKAY BUT THAT SPEECH DANCING RAIN (dancing with our hands tied?⬆️)

Was hoping for a new combo with an all green set for 1989, we got red & green which is both rep colors, usual set, bikes are green not blue!

Hoping for Florida during TTPD, seems more red and green lit, Florida is in setlist WITH FLORENCE!!! (I’m getting snake eye lighting vibes which is me clowning for sure). Malfunction: she was literally running with her dress unbuttoned.😂 The crowd screaming again tricked me w Postie😭🖤NOTHING HAPPENED (but hey I love Jan so) Hoping for all Gold set (or black for Rep?) Set is white! Currently: Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me? dress w White gloves & usual rest of set (aside from earlier ⬆️ Florida)

It’s all waiting on surprise dress now… I’m hoping new green, brand new black (maybe even silver/gold) or at least orange? Surprise songs o clock (coming in right after ICDIWABH which were on as I type this lol): HERE WE GO — THE DRESS IS RED AND GREEN AND BLUE AND LOOKS LIKE BLACK MIDNIGHT STARS OR HOLOGRAPHIC OR RAINBOW WHAT??? ITS RAINING?? ITS TIME!! ITS TIM MCGRAW & TIMELESS — ITS PIANO TIME (I AM CONFUSED) ITS THIS IS ME TRYING & DAYLIGHT — SHES JUMPING — UNLESS MOTHER DOES SOMETHING NEW AND ANNOUNCES AT MIDNIGHT WE HAVE BEEN CLOWNED🤡 but hey def my new fav dress for surprise songs (excited for high quality full pics)

It seems this has been dubbed the beta, paint splatter, sleeping beauty make it blue make it pink, lover hair or rep dress reference of Surprise Song dresses

Midnights: purple CORRECTION NEW ANTI HERO DRESS —

— & MoonStone🌙 bodysuit (don’t think it’s new guys) normal setlist & Kam love! Loving the rainy curls😍 & new crowd YES YOU ARE chants (haven’t heard that one for going out tonight before… maybe I’m just lost lol clowning fried my brain) if nothing else thankfully Vigilante Shit will always be scream worthy and heart stopping for mother🥵🤣👏 we Stan a good ✨Chicago✨ moment Magenta jacket & a wonderful night! Thanks for clowning!

[aromanticannibal]

Present Mic headcanons! he lives in my head :D (edited as of Nov. 2023)

He's powerfully homosexual he loves men SO much.

He's demiromantic! He's only ever been in love with Oboro and Shouta

He's so fucking tall. And he wears platforms. And his hair is. It's his hair

So many freckles. He has red head skin, pale with so many freckles

Part American on his mother's side, his parents are divorced and the mom lives in the US

Heterochromia Mic my beloved. One green eye one red eye, they're so damn bright too. He makes heterochromia jokes with Shouto.

Fashion wise, he's a very strange mix between a punk, an English teacher (as in, language teacher, not literature teacher) and this one guy who's shirtless and wearing rainbow makeup and glitter at Pride.

He's so blind without his glasses, it's terrible. He's also deaf because of his quirk

For these reasons, he uses his platform as a popular hero and radio personality to talk about disabled people and stuff. He also talks about queerphobia issues and quirk discrimination, though he tends to focus more on blatant differences like Shouji or Tokoyami type of quirk.

When the main kids are in third year, they start being surprise guests on his show and talk about other issues with him (and just fun stuff as well). The first one to participate is of course, hero nerd Midoriya.

Hizashi and Shouta have what the experts call a weird ass relationship. For the longest time, they just lived together without really dating but being completely aware they were in love with each other. One day Shouta told Hizashi it would be easier if they were married for like tax purposes and stuff. So everyone thought they were getting married platonically but they organized a wedding and stuff. Midnight was the maid of honor and Shouta's cat was the best man (his name is Bastard). A couple of heroes they're friends with and trust were invited (Tensei, Yagi - though Shouta was reluctant - 13...) as well as some vigilantes Shouta's friends with, and after a lot of begging, 1-A students (they had to sign a contract that said they couldn't tell anyone about the wedding or take pictures). It was cheesy as possible, completely normal wedding, but after it happened, Shouta and Hizashi never acknowledged it again. Kaminari is wondering if he hallucinated them kissing and slow-dancing together. They also kept the same last name. The only thing that changed is that they're more affectionate in private, and that they call each other their husband.

An Hizashi themed clickbait article would probably be "PRESENT MIC'S HUSBAND'S IDENTITY REVEALED????"

Hizashi sometimes says he has a husband in passing and everyone clinged onto this fact and is desperately trying to find out who the husband is. Midoriya is incredibly happy to know he has hero knowledge only a few select people are aware of.

Going back to Hizashi specific stuff, the man has some powerful ADHD (Shouta is autistic, they're the ADHD autism couple) but he very strangely knows how to deal with it. He knows how he functions so he does really weird stuff sometimes or does things in an allegedly inefficient way because it'll ultimately will make him do more stuff

He also has the new hobby every month disease, except he actually learns a lot and his hobbies kind of rotate, so he's very good at very random stuff. For exemple : embroidery (but he can't sew for shit), a shit ton of instruments (but not the drums), he knows a lot about cats (this fixation was started by Shouta's own special interest in cats), he knows how color theory works (somehow), he's very good at cutting or dying hair, etc.

In high school he had to make an essay about quirk laws but he was uninspired so he desperately tried for a week to make himself fixate on quirk laws, finally writing his essay five hours before the deadline. The consequence of this was an hyperfixation on quirk and hero laws a month later, which plagued him for an entire month more. He therefore knows a lot about laws.

He had an emo phase in middle school. I know it, Horikoshi told me

Hizashi becomes incredibly irritable when it's raining or storming, similar to how Shouta becomes quiet and distant in that weather.

He has a lot of piercings but only where people can't see. Where that ends up being is your choice, I have my own ideas :)

He actually has anger issues, similar to Bakugou, but is way better at handling them. This, in addition to them both being deaf/partially deaf, should have made them somewhat close, but Hizashi actually really dislikes Bakugou.

He has favorites, and unlike Shouta, he very much says who his favorites are. (Uraraka, Kaminari, Shinsou, Jirou and Kouda. He also likes Todoroki but not as much as the other faves) He definitely gets merch of them once it's available (and creates Shinsou merch for him and Shouta, like how he made Eraserhead merch)

Because this is still my blog here's a point about Shimsou, my son the light of my world : Hizashi takes a liking to the kid immediately because of how much he looks like Shouta. He also likes his sarcasm and smartass attitude, he thinks it's adorable (which Shinsou evidently hates). While Shouta won't adopt Shinsou, they're still like father and son to each other, and Shinsou jokes by calling Hizashi his step-dad.

He's very protective of his friends and very good at noticing when something is bothering them.

HE CAN UNHINGE HIS JAW. His fans find it very hot (it's me, I'm his fans)

Everytime he tries to dress up nicely, he fails miserably (case on point : this). He's infamous for it.

He doesn't especially like small children, except for ONE small child and it's Eri. She's the light of his life he loves her so much.

After Shouta adopts her and Hizashi gets custody of her as well by default, he immediately starts researching how to be a good step-dad. Eri will for some reason start calling him her uncle, despite him being married to her dad, but Hizashi is fine with it, he loves just being a part of the little girl's life.

He's a KING at Just Dance and karaoke nights.

My hand is, for some mysterious reason, itchy. So this is the end of the post :D

Feel free to tell me about ur own headcanons whenever /gen

[chaotic-orphan]

The Stranger

EEEEEK!!! I love this one so much. The stranger is my favourite OC so far so I hope you enjoy! Expect more soon —- maybe.

This is not a prompt

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Vigilante was there when the mayor’s son stepped out into a line of traffic, dragging him to safety while risking his life. The mayor called the cops not two seconds after, and once Vigilante made sure the kid was safe they were gone.

This was a usual occurrence. Save the civilians of the city from imminent danger or death, have them recognise you as vigilante, and then have the cops descend upon you until you run as fast as you can on your noble feet.

What wasn’t a usual occurrence was the increase in people suddenly have suicidal tendencies and the fog the vigilante witnessed clear from their bloodshot eyes had gotten to vigilante. It was time the heroes knew about this, vigilante couldn’t do it alone anymore.

There was no thanks in the city. Not for unlicensed heroes. Not for vigilantes, as they have been named in the papers.

That’s why Vigilante was on the roof tonight, overlooking the city that was bright witj artificial light, a slight breeze rustling through their hair. They leaned against the raised concrete waiting for hero, arms folded, expression hard, a regular rendezvous that Vigilante hadn’t been making for the last couple weeks, by no fault of hero. They hoped Hero wouldn’t mention it, or bring it up at all. Or try and convince Vigilante to join the heroes again.

Their sigh got lost on the breeze that carried it off and away, carrying all their troubles away so easily. If only everything was that simple.

Footsteps on the roof. Vigilante kept looking forward. Out of their periphery they expected to see a familiar face. What they instead saw was a tall imposing figure sidle up beside them.

Vigilante jerked forward, spinning to face the stranger.

“Who the fuck are you?” Vigilante asked.

The stranger cracked a half smile, reaching into their pocket. Vigilante immediately went on guard, but the stranger let out a soft chuckle as they pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

“Relax,” the stranger drawled. Popping open the box and taking a cigarette in their teeth before pocketing the pack again. The stranger waved their hand again, waving away Vigilante’s worries.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the stranger continued, flicking open a zippo lighter and lighting their cigarette with sure hands.

Vigilante looked the stranger up and down. They were dressed well, a dress shirt and warm looking grey duffle coat. Their hair was immaculate, their eyes cool and full of amusement as they watched vigilante observe them.

“Why are you here?” Vigilante asked, voice laced with suspicion.

“You’ve been a very naughty little hero wannabe, vigilante. Got on my radar. Not a good radar to get on, but a very prestigious one so I do admire you for it.”

“For what?” Vigilante snapped, already tired with the strangers pretension.

The strangers eyes flashed dangerous. Crossing their long legs as they drew a languid hand up to their mouth and took a drag, their eyes dancing with a savage glee the more impatient Vigilante got.

“Your meddling,” the stranger answered simply, exhaling a lungful of smoke into the night air.

“Listen, I’m getting tired of your shit, and I’m meeting someone so-“

“Oh,” the stranger laughed, slapping a hand to their forehead. “Oh I almost forgot, of course. You’re meeting dear Hero aren’t you? Hero! You can come out now!”

Vigilante’s heart felt like it just got a dagger plunged into it. Was this superhero? Did they find out about hero and vigilante’s meetings? That’s why the stranger was so smug.

All that melted away when they saw hero step onto the roof. They were definitely hero. There was no doubt. But it didn’t feel like hero. Vigilante glanced at the stranger who smiled, and then looked at hero.

“Hero?” Vigilante asked, as hero went to stand beside the stranger. Vigilante took a step forward and the stranger stood, leaning to whisper something in hero’s ear.

Hero stared at vigilante the entire time, and vigilante cursed to themself before approaching the pair.

“Hero what the-“

The stranger got in Vigilante’s way and Vigilante threw a good solid fist to the stranger’s cheek. The stranger caught vigilante’s fist and vigilante’s attention was suddenly on them instead of hero.

“That’s not very nice, vigilante. How on earth do you make friends with this attitude?” The stranger tsked, throwing vigilante’s fist back with such force vigilante had to step back.

“This whole mystery act is getting pretty tiring. Who are you? Why are you here? How do you know me?”

“I know you,” the stranger began, dropping their cigarette and crushing it under foot their eyes turning dark, as they continued advancing on vigilante. “Because you’re the little thorn in my side that keeps fucking up my carefully thought out projects.”

For every step forward the stranger took, vigilante took one back.

“What projects?” Vigilante spat, “What did say to hero?”

“I’d worry more about yourself vigilante.”

“Thought you said you weren’t going to hurt me.”

“That was before you threw the first punch.”

Vigilante feigned left then dodged to the right around the stranger going to hero who was approaching the edge of the roof.

“Hero!” Vigilante yelled, before getting dragged back by their collar. Vigilante turned in the stranger’s grip, grabbing their wrist for leverage as they planted both their feet on the stranger’s chest running up it and planting a kick on the stranger’s chin.

The stranger released them and vigilante used the momentum to flip feet over head and turn back to hero.

“Vigilante?” The stranger said and against their better judgement the vigilante turned. When they met the stranger’s eyes it was as if they had vertigo. The entire roof turned dizzying melting into sky with the black spots clouding their vision. “Stay.”

The vigilante didn’t want to listen, they didn’t. But that voice… that command was the only thing stopping the world from spinning so vigilante froze in place and when their brain caught up with them they found they couldn’t move a muscle.

“Wh- what the fuck?” Vigilante cried, eyes focused on the stranger who was holding their jaw with their hand. The stranger’s eyes met vigilante’s frightened ones and they grinned.

“You are one piece of work,” the stranger said, voice cheerful despite everything while Vigilante’s mind was at war with itself, trying to urge their foot to just move!

But it didn’t.

They stood rooted to the roof. Watching as the stranger came towards them, fixing their coat as they bent low to look vigilante in the eye.

“Strange, isn’t it? The feeling of not having control over your own body. Your own actions,” the stranger said, voice airy and contemplative. The stranger looked at something behind Vigilante and stood straight. “That’s far enough, hero.”

“If you hurt them-“

The stranger’s gaze cut into Vigilante, all snide and smug and mocking. They cocked a brow, “You’ll what? What could you do right now? Stare at me?”

The stranger reached out to grab Vigilante’s chin, even though vigilante felt themself move back. The instinct was there. But their body wouldn’t obey them.

The stranger’s fingers were cold and took Vigilante’s chin in a bruising grip, lifting their face enough to put strain on their neck. “Hmph. Still defiant.”

“You’re behind all the brainwashing cases,” said Vigilante. The stranger’s eyes shined with interest, and a sardonic kind of knowing. “The influx of suicide.”

“How can I be responsible for suicide, Vigilante?” The stranger asked, tilting their head. “The word implies the act of killing oneself. Singular.”

“Yeah. Singular. Because you’re the only one doing it.”

The stranger smiled again. “I like you, Vigilante. I didn’t expect to. But you’re very entertaining. Come, look at hero for me.”

That infectious voice penetrated vigilante’s ears like a missile, echoing and ringing and bouncing off the corners of their skull until their feet turned to face Hero, still standing on the edge of the roof. Feet half off the edge. Zombified.

Vigilante’s heart lurched at seeing them like that. So unlike the hero they knew. Hero was good. They shouldn’t be here. It was all vigilante’s fault. They should be the one at the edge not their hero and they couldn’t even lift a finger to stop the stranger.

The stranger threw a casual arm around Vigilante’s shoulders and sighed.

“You know,” the stranger began. “I did intend on just making you watch Hero die and then kill you after, but… with our chat I changed my mind. Hero. Come over here.”

Hero obeyed. Silent. And the closer they got to vigilante the more vigilante could see hero’s eyes. Bloodshot and foggy. Not in control.

“Forget everything, sweet hero. Forget your meeting with vigilante-“

“Hey! No!” Vigilante protested, but the stranger clamped a hand over Vigilante’s mouth, turning their head to look vigilante in the eye.

“Silence.”

They didn’t remove the hand from Vigilante’s mouth, but turned to face Hero again.

“Sorry about that hero. You will forget your meeting with vigilante. Meeting me. The roof. Everything that happened after you left your house tonight. You don’t need to worry about vigilante.”

Vigilante’s heart hammered against their throat, unable to move or resist in anyway. The bastard had even taken their voice! Now hero was going to forget they were ever here.

Vigilante wanted nothing more than to rip the bastard’s hand off them and scream at the top of their lungs, but they couldn’t move. Not even an inch. They just had to stand here and watch.

“When you go home tonight it will be like you had a quiet night in. Now go, little hero. Before I change my mind. Get home safe.”

Hero was off the roof in a matter of seconds.

The stranger turned to Vigilante then, eyes wide like a cats watching a laser.

“You, Vigilante. I’m taking home with me.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

[vigilantebarbie]

i keep my jealousy close chapter three: i had to stop myself

chapter two

chapter four

Infatuation with a hint of obsession? Adrian knows all about that

"Dude shut the fuck up about this girl! You met her, what, one time? Put that shit in your spank bank so we don't have to hear about it." Chris almost yelled, interrupting Adrian mid-sentence. Adrian hadn't stopped talking about you since that night outside Fennel Fields, driving everyone around him off the wall. It had been tolerable at first, meaning the first hour. It had been two weeks since that day and he would always find a way to bring you into the conversation, based solely on your text conversations. He'd been bummed that you hadn't been able to hang out since that night but your schedules conflicted so much that neither of you had the time. Not that it stopped him from doing patrol in your neighborhood immediately after he got off work. If you didn't have such an early work schedule, you might have noticed the masked weirdo in a kevlar suit lurking around your complex and occasionally, climbing a tree to see into your apartment window. To make sure you were safe, of course. He'd noticed your cat, and your cat had definitely noticed him sitting in that tree.

"Bold of you to assume I haven't already done that," Adrian replied, grinning when everyone voiced their disgust at the thought. "Besides, we're supposed to hang out tonight since I told Sylvia that I'd report her for coming to work high if she didn't switch shifts with me tonight." Weed wasn't illegal anymore so Vigilante couldn't do anything about Sylvia, but not coming to work high had to be some sort of corporate rule. Ignoring Chris' vocal disdain for hearing about you, Adrian went right back to texting you while on his way out for the day.

I just have to go home and shower, workout was really intense today. I'll see you there!

Replying to his text with a soft smile, you went back to focusing on your hair. You'd slept with braids in your damp hair after you showered last night and now your long hair had a controllable wave to it but you didn't want to leave it hanging around your face. Another half-updo would have to do. You were only supposed to be going to the arcade, there was no need to be dressed up. But here you were in a cute little dress, sweater, and your cutest shoes. Your phone screen lit up again, unfortunately, a text from the very same person who had caused you to move to Evergreen. Once again, asking you if you could talk. Normally, you'd have blocked him since you weren't answering. But the desperation was kind of hilarious in the most pathetic way. Swinging your bag over your shoulder on your way out, making sure your keys were in hand before locking your apartment door and heading out to the arcade.

Adrian had beat you to the arcade even with his shower and almost tripped over his own feet when he went to greet you. You were even prettier than he remembered you being and you’d definitely sent a selfie or two during the last two weeks. “Are you ready to get your ass kicked by the arcade master? I sure hope you prepared cuz I’m really good at like, all the games,” He started to ramble again but you didn’t mind it. You didn’t really talk a lot anyway. “I’ve beaten all the claw machines. Those are totes rigged but you gotta know how they’re rigged so you can beat the system.”

You nodded. That made sense, in a way. “But how are you at Dance Dance Revolution? Because I’m actually the queen of that game.” now you were lying. You hadn’t played that game since sixth grade at a birthday party. That was like saying you were good at mini golf, a total lie. “How about whoever has the least amount of tickets at the end of the night has to use them to buy the other person whatever they want with their measly tickets? Like an eraser or one of those dorky little alien things you put on your fingers?” You noticed how he tensed up at the brief mention of aliens, shaking it off like it was just an aversion to them. After all, you were still creeped out by the ones from X-Files.

“Deal, I can’t wait to see what kind of fucking lame eraser you pick out.” He laughed, leading the way to the token machine so you two could play games to your heart's content, all the while hoping you weren’t as good at Dance Dance Revolution as you claimed to be.

The pair of you had been playing for hours, not even close to bored when your phone rang. “Sorry, I thought I turned my do not disturb on when I got here…fucking fuck…I gotta take this.” you were pissed. Your ex had decided to call you and since everyone could hear your loud ass ringtone, you couldn’t ignore it. “I’ll be right back” Rushing outside to talk so you didn’t disturb anyone any further than you had.

Adrian followed, frowning deeply at the way you seemed so distressed by this phone call. “I told you, leave me alone. I don’t want anything from you. Ever again…yes I’m serious!!!! I left for a reason??? You were a dick to me, why would I stay??? Go to hell.” You snapped into the phone before hanging up, shocked to see Adrian standing in front of you looking concerned.

“Everything okay? Don’t lie.” He seemed like he cared. So you told him everything, everything about the shitty relationship you’d left behind you and hoped would have stayed behind when you moved here. About how your ex was bothering you for the last month about getting back together and begging you to come back home. How you’d ignored him until he got pissed off and called. Adrian nodded along while he listened to you vent, calculating a plan in his head to make this guy pay for this. “But don’t worry about him, he doesn’t know where I live now and I’m changing my number soon.”

Biting his tongue to stop himself from saying that he’d kill anyone who ever made you this distressed again, he nodded once more “Cool beans, let’s go back and play some games cuz I’m kicking your ass.” He put his hands on your shoulders, turning you and directing you back inside. Not before noticing your ex’s name on your phone and giving himself a mental reminder to look the guy up. A visit from Vigilante might make him leave you alone. It wasn't like he didn't have a perfectly good reason.

That fucker would pay for making you upset