#anyway i wasn't planning to do this but i did it anyway!!!

[cupcakedieabetes]

For @silverblueglitter, who requested this

AHHHHH, I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED MY FIRST DRAFT!!! I accidentally pressed discard ivb2hvour24bfvo3ubrvou4r. I lost motivation for a bit, but I PERSERVERED!!!!

Danny, a newly homeless teenager, wandered around Gotham to sightsee. He wanted to take his mind off the fact that his parents didn't take it too well on him being Phantom, so he distracted himself by looking at the gothic-style architecture and gargoyles, sending pictures of them to Sam who would have loved to come here but couldn't.

Sam and Tucker had wanted to come with him, but he couldn't let them. Both Sam and Tucker had loving families, no matter how much Sam had argued with them on her choice styles, but still, both of their parents loved them. And Danny's parents did too, once, until they learnt that he was Phantom.

Trying to get rid of the depressing thoughts, he continued on wandering aimlessly around the city, not even knowing what to do. Danny didn't want to spend the money Sam shoved on him into his pants before he left Amity, feeling guilty as it was her money.

Within the few hours he wandered, he encountered five different crimes, all of them not even the same type of crime, which shocked him. He wanted to do something to help, but he didn't know what to do. But it reminded him: Wasn't there some junk in the Ghost King's Vault, or something? There should be something in there that's not cursed, right?

So he popped into the Ghost Zone, and spent overnight sorting as many junk as he can.

______________________________________________________________

Danny decided to open a shop! Well, he didn't have the money to open a brick store, but a stall should be fine, right? He laid out a ratty but secure-looking blanket on the ground and showcased his products.

A few swords, some other blankets he found, and some useful jewelries and trinkets he knew that could protect the others.

He also found some shiny, pretty green stones that he threw into a sewing kit (cookie tin can) that he found in an unattended trash can, and there doesn't seem to have any harm, well, if it didn't kill him or hurt him, it should be fine for the others, right?

Wait, how much was any of these going to cost? 10-15 dollars should be fine for a sword, right? Anyone should have a sword because it's cool, so he's going to make them affordable. He's got thousands of these in the vaults anyways. It's not like anyone was going to miss it.

They were all ordinary swords, so that much should be fine.

Blankets would be 5 dollars. The stones, depending on how big they are, would range from 1 ~ 5 dollar.

The useful jewelries and trinkets all have spells on them to protect their wearers, and it's nothing big that he found. One is just a little luck to make the day go well, some protects their wearers if they get hurt, etc.

And to top it all off, he put on a cloak that completely covered him from head to toe, putting on the hood to fully check himself out in a mirror that wasn't cursed.

The hood fully hid his face, but left 2 glowing lights that reflected his eyes. Sometimes blue, sometimes green if he went ghost. It was a good thing that the cloak didn't disappear when he went ghost so he could easily just escape without outing his appearance.

He cackled at the fact that he was now a mysterious sketchy merchant, not dissimilar to the games.

He looked for more things to find for his "Mysterious Sketchy Merchant" or MSM outfit, and found perfect matches that would help him in the long run.

He found a lamp that would ignite the way to safety, making him able to find a spot to 'sell his wares'. Then, there were bells that he found would often ring, but would go silent in front of danger. He would have thought it would be opposite, but it would be a good way to announce his prescence to future customers.

Not caring if it's midnight because he knew that none of his friends were asleep, he video-called them to ask for advice after explaning what he was planning to do..

Tucker laughed so hard that he snorted while Sam suggested some black gloves, or probably some nail polish to sell the deal because his hands were still seen with the cloak while trying to stiffle her laughter.

Then Tucker, after seeing his blanket, asked him what it was used for.

"It's used for storing! I can just scoop them up and make a quick getaway." Danny demonstrated, hauling it over his shoulders.

It made Tucker and Sam burst out laughing even more.

"It makes you look like a cartoony thief!" Sam pointed at him.

It was then Tucker suggested that when he make a quick getaway, to run like a typical cartoon thief; all flighty and long stride.

The suggestions got more and more ridiculous, making them forget how late at night it was until the parents came barging in.

Saying goodbye to the two of them, Danny began his preparations.

He ventured onto the street to sell his goods.

At first, he didn't get any customers. That was fine. He was THE Mysterious Sketchy Merchant. His shop name was also named a generic name fit for a Mysterious Sketchy Merchant, "The Junk Shop".

Thanks to the bell and the lamp, he found some safe spot to sell his wares to the vulnerable and not anyone who didn't need it. He didn't want anyone who harms other people to be using any of his goods, after all.

There were multiple instances where, despite the safe spot, he was found by those who wanted to buy his goods for unsavory stuff, so he scooped up his blanket, hauled it over his shoulder as he transformed to run like a cartoon thief to seemingly defy gravity as they ran with a huge stride, before turning invisible the moment he turned around a corner.

That left him amused, seeing them trying to search for him.

He happened to see a kid who had bought his sword (only after seeing if they could actually carry a huge sword all by themselves and not get hurt by it).

He loved the fact that he didn't need to actively protect the people who were vulnerable, therefore bringing attention to himself, which he couldn't afford to do. Instead, he brought them things that they were able to protect themselves with.

He would have given them for free, but he told Sam, Gotham was paranoid. They wouldn't like freebies, but as long as he could make it affordable for them, they like doing it themselves.

They weren't quite safe, as it was Gotham, but they were safer, and that was everything to him

The Thrift Shop

DPxDC Prompt #1

When Danny was suddenly given the title of Ghost King many things came with it. This included responsibilities, power, and a whole lot of junk.

Apparently no one had cleaned out the castle in millennia and there were thousands of old artifacts ranging from shoddily made blankets to weird glowing gemstones to even archaic weapons. They all had one thing in common though.

Danny wanted nothing to do with any of it.

So when Danny ended up homeless in Gotham after coming out as Phantom to his parents went wrong and he needed to make a quick buck he decided to start up a thrift store. It was two birds with one stone really.

The Bats end up really concerned that someone is supplying the citizens of Gotham with very powerful magic items.

Danny: *sells some bracelets he found in a lead box in the artifact room*

Batman: *wondering how and why the teenage girls of gotham are making friendship bracelets out of kryptonite*

Red Hood: *sees a kid about to be mugged and goes to save him*

The Kid: *pulls out a sword bigger than himself*

Mugger: *runs away*

The Kid: phew I knew this would be worth the 10 dollars

Red Hood: *thinking wtf*

Danny: people really like my junk! not gonna look a gifthorse in the mouth, dunno why though

Also Danny: *selling priceless magic artifacts for less than 20 dollars a pop*

The Bats eventually find out about the thrift shop (lovingly named the Junk Shop by Danny) and try to have it shut down to no avail. Bruce is going gray, but hey, the kid who runs The Shop is a mystery and he's nothing if not a detective.

[howi99]

A Knight second chance 12

Jaune: (Tsk, it's taking too long! At this rhythm, Pyrrha's gonna get killed!) Hey, Pyr?

Pyrrha: Hm?

Jaune: *point to Mercury* Just letting you know, that the guy over there got 2 prosthetic legs.

Pyrrha: *perplexed* How-

Jaune: *point to the disguised Neo* I spoke with her. So anyway, he plans to fight you. Now, you remember what i said about using every advantage in a fight, right?

Pyrrha: B-but that wouldn't be fairplay and-

Jaune: *sigh* Pyrrha, do you really wish to be a huntress?

Pyrrha: *shocked* Wha- Yes! Of course i want!

Jaune: *taking her hands in his, looking at her straight in the eyes* Then... Why are you still holding back? Do you think the criminals will? Or the grimms?

Pyrrha: *Blushing madly* whu-..

Jaune: *sigh* Guess i'll have to teach you more. *Getting up* Miss Goodwitch, may i take the first fight?

Glynda: *surprised* I don't mind... This is the first time you volunteered yourself. *Frown* Is everything ok?

Jaune: *chuckle* Yes professor. I just want to show my partner how a huntsman should fight.

Everyone: *whispering between themselves*

Nora: *nodding to Yang with a smirk* Hey, you shouldn't be rude!

Jaune: *blinking* ... What?

Yang: *grinning* You know, she's right! How dare you say she doesn't fight like a huntress, uh?!

Jaune: ...! *Panicking* W-wait, no! That's not what i meant! Pyrrha's amazing, b-but she still holds back and-

Ren: Jaune.

Jaune: *looking at Ren* Uh?

Ren: *smirk* They are joking.

Jaune: ... O-oh, yeah, right. *Cough with a slight blush* I-in any case, i wish to fight you *point to Glynda* Professor!

Everyone: *silence... Then everyone starts talking at the same time*

Glynda: *annoyed* Silence! *Everyone shut up* Good. *Turn to Jaune* Now, why would you want to fight me instead of anyone else?

Jaune: *smiling* In the face of a stronger opponent, one needs to create their own advantage. I'm not expecting to win against you, but i want to show everyone how even the most powerful semblances can be overcome.

Glynda: *small smirk* Oh? Am i to assume you will use any trick necessary to that goal?

Jaune: *smirking* Of course. If it's to help my partner, i don't mind getting a bit rough.

*sound of something falling to the ground*

Nora: Uh... Jaune?

Jaune: ... That was Pyrrha, wasn't it?

Nora: Yep.

Jaune: *sigh* Anyway, maybe we should spar outside? And uh... Can someone help? I think i'd make it worse if i tried helping her.

Yang: *smiling* I'll go get some water! *whispering to Nora* because that girl is thiiiirsty~.

_ Outside _

Ruby: *vibrating with excitement* Oh gosh, we are going to see Professor Glynda fight! This is so awesome!

Pyrrha: *still a blushing mess* We held hands...

Nora: *nudging Pyrrha with her elbow* Hey Pyrrha, eyes on the ring!

Yang: *squinting her eyes* Wait... Weiss, did you give Jaune some of your dust?

Weiss: Yes, why?

Yang: How come you never share with us!?

Weiss: *deadpan* I did, once. And you used it all on your stupid bike.

Yang: Hey, her name is Bumblebee and-

Blake: Shhhh!

On the ring

Glynda: *looking at her students* Tsk. Maybe i should be stricter with them.

Jaune: *wearing his armor and a bunch of vial of dust* Well, can't blame kids for being kids, right?

Glynda: *looking at him* You are one of them you know?

Jaune: *flinch for a instant then smile* I guess i am. *Stretch* Well, for today i'll be your assistant teacher.

Glynda: *keeping note of that flinch* Hm...*taking position* Ready when- *gets blinded by Jaune's using thunder dust as a flashbang* !

Jaune: *already running to her, quickly mixing dust together* A huntsman should never lower their guards in a fight! *Dodge the disciplinarian, then slash at her twice* We rely on our senses to use our semblance, so the best way to win- *gets pushed back by Glynda's semblance* -is to have the element of surprise! *Throw an ice and fire dust vial near Glynda, a thick mist instantly forming to obstruct her vision further*

Glynda: *smiling* (He's good. Using my politeness to get the advantage.) You didn't follow the rules, Jaune. *Hearing him approaching from the right* Maybe you should be punished? *Use her semblance to condense the water in the air into needles, throwing them at Jaune, which blocks part of them with his shield*

Jaune: *apologetic smile* Sorry, just wanted to show them that real fights don't have rules. *Unsheathing his sword, starting to run at her* And i'm not done yet! *Using ice dust on the ground, making it slippery* Bad day for heels, don't you think?

Glynda: *trying to maintain her balance* What the-

Jaune: *slide, making her fall on the ground* The second thing you can use is your environment! *Gets on one knee then stab the ground with an earth crystal covered in plant dust, making the ground under them burst with roots, covering Glynda* Change it, mold it, make it yours!

Glynda: *chuckle while using her power to unroot everything around her* Not bad, not bad at all. *Aim at Jaune with a smirk* My turns now.

Jaune: *using gravity dust on himself to make himself heavier* The last part is aura management. *Taking position, placing his shield to protect his vitals* Everyone has limits, a point where they can't realistically fight at 100% even if they still have Aura.

Glynda: *begin her assault, throwing stones and roots at her student*

Jaune: *gritting his teeth, slowly but surely sliding out of the ring* Semblance uses Aura, you can bring them down with time! You don't need to rush! *His foot pass the borders limit* Ring out!

Glynda: *sweating, stopping her assault* That was.... That was good, very good even!

Jaune: *not moving*

Glynda: *worried* Mr Arc? Jaune?

Jaune: ... I used too much gravity dust, I'm stuck!

Back with the spectators

Ruby: *frotting at the mouth from the awesomeness*

Weiss: *looking at their aura reserve* 87% for Jaune and 68% for Glynda.

Yang: Damn, VB is good, right Pyr?

Pyrrha: ...

Nora: Pyrrha?

Pyrrha: ... *Looking at her hands* So he was holding back during our spar too...

Nora: *worried* A-are you ok?

Pyrrha: *having a... Weird smile and eyes* Eh, eh eh eh~

Yang: ... *Slowly pulling out another bottle of water and slowly giving it to Pyrrha* P-money, your thirst is showing.

Pyrrha: *snapping back to reality* O-oh! I'm Sorry!

Blake: ... By the way, did anyone see Ren?

Ren: *coming back with his pockets full of Liens* I'm here.

Weiss: *frowning* Where did you get that?

Ren: *shrug* Everyone was betting on low aura while i took the "risk" of taking the ring out.

Yang: Wait, there were bets?!

Ren: Yeah, team CRDL was making them when you were gone getting some water for Pyrrha. *Looking at Ruby* By the way, you won too, Ruby.

Ruby: *hearing the news, getting back to reality too* Woohoo! More part for Crescent Rose!

_ meanwhile _

Cinder: That kid...

Emerald: Should we be worried? He was the one who stopped Roman from stealing the cargo at the docks.

Cinder: ... I need to ask that old fool for more information on him. He could be... Useful, since our plans have changed...

[love-byers]

this is weaponized incompetence at this point holy fuck

"he didn't think having his mom help her get home meant never seeing her again"

WHAT ELSE IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN?? WAS HE GOING TO MAKE SCHEDULED VISITS TO PENNHURST TO SEE HER????

he wasn't concerned with where she came from, he just wanted her out of the way so they could go out looking for will again. "We'll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out. And this time, we find Will."

and yes of COURSE mike wanted her to be home safe. he's a fucking nice person and she was a cold, lost, scared kid. he wanted to make sure she got taken care of and back home safe, and he was gonna focus on finding will again. and i don't know why they think him letting her stay bc she was in danger means he's in love with her. she said bad people were trying to kill her of course he let her stay😭😭 that doesn't indicate romantic love though. and later when dustin and lucas were getting on mike for not going through with the original plan he tells them she needs to stay because she knows will and she knows how to find him, and that the bad people after her might be the same people who took will. no one is trying to say he didn't care about her, but if what he did for el indicates romantic love then he's 1000% in love with will too lmfao

and keep in mind this whole time mike is supposed to KNOW he's in love with her, his words not mine. he's supposedly in love when he says "She'll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from" ??

and again, no one is trying to say mike hated el or didnt care about her or anything like that. mike was a child doing the best he could in that situation, he wanted to find will and help el. but mike himself claims he had already crossed the line into PURE ROMANTIC LOVE and KNEW IT. if that was the case then he would not be saying those things, he just wouldn't. in stranger things we are shown that characters love each other by their careful attentive behavior towards each other and their desire to stay together as a team, and they take time to get to that point, they need to develop. this is why love at first sight just does not work as a label for mike and el's relationship. mikes behavior does not indicate that at all. you'd have to bend and twist and reach in order to make it make sense (when it still wouldn't anyway), and THAT my friend is 10x more delulu than anything bylers say lol

can s5 come out already so we can be done with this shit

[dalliancekay]

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you.”

Joseph Heller, Catch-22

I don't yet know how to explain this... And will probably mess it up. But I think that in fiction, sometimes in life too* and in my case, obviously particularly I'm talking about Good Omens here - people often forget that if something terrible does not happen, that it was going to be fine all along** and the character who was worried about it, was overreacting (being stupid, cowardly, uncool, wimp, sissy etc etc).

It was @seaweednpeanuts who put this idea in my head and now I'm trying to express my thoughts on it.

You know how people tend to joke that Aziraphale and Crowley do nothing in S1 and are completely useless and isn't that hilarious, but aww, we love them anyway, the two idiots etc? Sure, it's funny but it's also not true.

When Aziraphale says:

He doesn't mean - 'we are completely useless'.

He means they messed up as far as it goes for things they were supposed to be doing. And even thought they were doing. They didn't double check they were raising the right baby for example; they perhaps could have (but Adam grew up the best human he could have been - by well.... sheer accident? Fate? God's actual Plan?).

If they weren't both so good and kind and dither so much trying to find other ways to stop the Armageddon (I’m looking at you Aziraphale), they could have found Adam in Tadfield and kill him. And if they were truly with their respective sides... well, it all would have gone very differently too.

That's one thing.

They messed up, sure, as far as big grand Ineffable Plans go and nothing went the way they imagined (or were told) but they still played an important role in bringing the whole Armageddon and War plan down. The point is, that everyone there did. In some way. From Anathema to Adam's dad.

Just because it was fine in the end doesn't mean a real possibility of Armageddon wasn't there. Not unless you want to take away all the agency away from Az and Crowley (which is the eternal debate over an omniscient God anyway).

And it's the same across millennia. Just because Aziraphale is extremely cautious about his words, Crowley's words, their actions and the possibility of them being watched or overheard and punished for working together, doesn't mean that the possibility wasn't always there.

It doesn't even mean that the possibility couldn't still be there.

GIF by @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky

They aren't safe. They've never been safe and there was never anywhere to hide or run to.

And Crowley knows that too.

"You'll be amazed at the kind of things they can do to you, down there," he said. "I imagine they're very similar to the sort of things they can do to one up there," said Aziraphale. "Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy," said Crowley sourly. "Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?" "Sure," said the demon. "There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-" "I meant afterwards." "Oh."

They have suffered already so much; even if they did manage to keep their Earth jobs and their friendship for over 6000 years. Their existence was always fragile.

Aziraphale gets blamed so very often for how cautious he is.

I hate it when this line gets weaponised against Aziraphale. (Yes, I admit, even in fics.) Because, he has nothing to apologise for. He couldn't have done anything differently. There is no way Crowley could would e v e r blame him for saying no to a date. For never saying out loud how he really felt. What he really wanted.

Those things were impossible. And even though Crowley offered, if you actually watch his face after Aziraphale refuses, he is not angry or bitter or offended (as many metas and posts would have him feel). He's sad and thoughtful. Because Crowley knows exactly how much he is loved and cared for by that refusal.

F15 is so tragic because once again, Aziraphale is reminded they are not free. That they are not safe and they have not been left alone.

And this time

he's truly furious about it.

*Controversial perhaps, but you know all those feel-good posts and quotes about asking people in retirement homes or something what'd they have done differently and what are their biggest regrets and they all say (or at least the published picks say) some sort of - I wish I worked less, tried less hard to make money, spent more time with kids and family etc...

Well those can fuck right off. Because I believe that most people would absolutely want to spend more time with their friends and kids and family and less time at work and constantly worrying about money. But that's not how life works, is it. Just because I was lucky so far and managed to pay all bills somehow, doesn't mean that I can just stop worrying about them, does it. Next time, I'd love to know the places these quotes are coming from. Just because Donald didn't spend time with family and is now dying alone doesn't mean his regrets and have anything to do with Tom on the other side of town who worked 3-4 jobs at a time his whole life and his biggest regret anyway is not trying harder (he couldn't have tried any harder) so his kid wouldn't have to work part-time job while at uni. Donald was always a jerk and his regret should be that he was a jerk and didn't pay his taxes so people could stress less about what happens when they lose a job.

Anyway. Rant over.

I know Aziraphale will win his love and his freedom and his happiness. But that doesn't mean that his worries and his caution and his anxiety were ever unfounded.

** When Gabriel claims that most things are fine in the end, he's not exactly contributing to it, is he. It's Aziraphale's stubbornness and caution that keeps him safe.

[nightingale-prompts]

(Ooo, I love it. You did great. Harvey is complex and I'm still learning too.)

Living a double life isn't easy. Sure, he isn't running around doing petty bank robberies these days despite what his Associate wants. Harvey has been keeping up a good image with a few backroom deals. No better than any other lawyer in Gotham. He placates his other half with plans to kill Batman as it is still his nature to destroy order as he is chaos.

But one thing he knew that would improve his reputation is to take a page out of Bruce's book. Take in a ward. The bonus was that the teen is just like him. A matching set. A two of a kind. A perfect match.

Just like he liked it.

His new ward was guarded but he was offered a fair trade. He helps Harvey with what he needs the boy for and the boy gets room and board.

"You're not some rich fruitloop, are you?

He beared his sharp canines at Harvey be fore his face softened.

"We don't like being around rich people."

Harvey laughed.

"Me neither but their money is good. I'd say wealthy, but not rich. Enough that you will end up in private school whether you want it or not."

"He sure complains a lot." The voice of his Associate rang out internally.

After a few weeks of waiting and paperwork the (not actually) orphaned Danny was now Danny Dent or Double D as Harvey called him. Danny hated the nickname and the amusement it gave his adopted father.

Danny wasn't even surprised when Harvey was revealed to be a bad guy. It wasn't the first time a crazy rich guy wanted to adopt him. At least Harvey didn't want to kill his dad and date his mom. Harvey wasn't obsessed with him either and preferred to leave him to his own devices while he worked.

At least Danny wasn't nearly important enough to be on TV like the Wayne brats.

Harvey even gave Danny his own set of goons to order around when he took off that prosthetic and let his Two-Face persona out. Danny felt almost jealous how liberating it must have been.

Call it misguided but Danny helps Two-Face when he decides to hold up the Gotham art auction. It was money laundering anyways and Two-Face promised Danny a hefty allowance. But Batman had to show up and stop them. Sure, it was robbery but it's the rich, they don't count. They steal all the time and they aren't killing anyone.

It ended up being a face-off with Robin who was definitely surprised to see him.

"Who are you?" He questioned between blows.

"Call us Twofold." They said.

Twofold as in twice as great. A sort of jab at Two-Face but even that monster couldn't help but laugh when he heard it.

"Twice as great? You're just in two. You have to prove to me you deserve that name but I'll allow it. For now."

The heist went well and Penguin now had a nice collection of art to fence for them. The Dents get the money and none of the risk of holding the art. Harvey wasn't willing to stain his reputation with Two-Faces actions and warned Twofold to do the same.

"Be nice. Keep your other half quiet today. We are meeting with the Waynes today."

"Those brats?"

"Yes, Bruce has been my friend for many years and we will keep it that way. These may come a time we're you will find the Wayne children helpful to your career."

"And kiss their ass?!"

"Don't argue with us!"

"Sorry, mister Dent. We'll nice. Promise."

"I know YOU will but keep the other under raps, even if they make you mad."

"Fine, but if they call me Double D I'm punching them."

"Don't say that. We need to be nice. Just tell them to stop."

"But it's more fun to hit them."

Harvey ruffled Danny's hair. He guessed he could understand Bruce at least a little. A kid was at least entertaining.

After Image AU- DCxDP prompt

"Do you hate me?" He asked rolling to face Danny.

"No." Danny said simply "Go to sleep."

They had found shelter for the night, it was only temporary though. It was an old abandoned church next to a cemetery.

"But it's all my fault."

"Hush. Hating you would be the same as hating myself."

"They could have separated us."

"That would have killed us both. I may not like sharing a body but we are meant to stay together."

Danny knew they were wrong. That's what happens when your conciseness was split in two. One remained alive the other dead. They had the same memories and emotions but they were so different. The other's logic just diverged when it came to ghosts vs mortals. More then that neither knew who was the original. If there even was an original. Maybe the Danny from before no longer existed and the split made them imprints of what was no longer there.

Now they were Danny. They both had to believe they were the original. Because if they weren't...what were they.

But after everything that happened at least they weren't alone.

"We ruined everything"

"We survived."

"I miss them."

"I'll protect us."

That's all that matters anymore. Survive.

They weren't heros or villains. They were just victims of a situation they couldn't change. They had to figure something out soon though. Gotham was their best bet so far. If there was anywhere where they could live normally it was here. They disagreed about how to do it though.

"Being a goon for a bit might get us enough money."

"And what? We won't be able to get out and who's going to hire a 16 year old?"

"Plenty I bet. What is your plan then?"

"Maybe join the league. We have powers and-"

"And what? Study us? Separate us?!"

"You don't know."

"You don't either."

So who could they go to? They looked like they were nothing more than a homeless mentally ill teenager. Talking to himself wasn't helping his case. At this rate they'll end up at Arkham.

[juliasmesmerized]

Me and You

pairings: Josh Washington x gn!reader, Mike Munroe x gn!reader requested type: two pining on an oblivious reader! summary: Mike and Josh shoot their shots on the reader while they just can't get it. vibes intended: Timeless - The Weeknd, Playboy Carti word count: 3334

REQUEST: Hii mootie ! I just saw your post so i may have an idea ? 💞 if you want ofc ! Mike and ahem my cutie pie josh fighting over reader? For her/their attention and the silly agrument went like hmm heated? 😭 not sure if u do smut so i'm sure if you're do or not- but it doesn't have to be one! Maybe yk both of them being obsessed w reader cs yk we r js their light to their darkness <33 [also if i made typos mb im really sleepy 😿💔] ALSO HAPPY NEW YEAR 🥳🎀 i hope ideas come to you ! You can ignore this take care🤍🤍 - @castielsloversblog

RESPONSE: hi pookie! happy new year!! it's so sweet of you for this and I super appreciate the ideas. I had some time off focusing on finals and I def wanted to explore other characters than just Josh. I write for everyone, yall I love them all. I got ideas as soon as I read this and asked a friend which request to do first, yours was her choice! Enjoy!

Michael's party was almost underway after a week of planning. Since it was a bunch of the group's first college frat party, Mike decided to plan Jess's, Matt's, Ash's and your first one. Sam's brows slightly furrowed; frat parties are never really chill and freshmen never attend for that reason.

Sam sat with her sketchbook. "Maybe we should have a small get together instead of a full party full of college upperclassmen." Her red coat was eye-catching for the infamous night of halloween eve.

Casa de Mike was decorated with black and orange ornaments. A full skull near the door with a sign that says 'how you doin'?'. There was red splattered around some areas with washable liquid, and LED lights placed around with the remote being Mike's phone.

Mike was setting up more decorations with Jess. "Don't worry about it, Sandiego. It'll be fine! If anything happens to the three freshmen we got them. Josh and I will be on watch." Jessica's hair was longer than usual, gold and sleek. Her purple dress didn't touch the ground, but her hair did.

Emily teased. "You sure you can handle that hair?" Emily wore a black headpiece reminiscing a swan; a corset endowed in pretty bows and a tutu skirt. Edgy black eye makeup and a soft red lip. Her hair didn't fit a bun, so she let it down.

"I better look the part! One night of long hair shouldn't be as bad as wearing heels all night." Jess spoke up as she placed a skull head on the snack counter.

Chris, looking as if he was going to save a young girl, who was immune from a virus, from dying on the operation table that could've saved the whole world. "Why is Jess even here, Mike? Wasn't it supposed to be a surprise?"

He left everything he was doing to stare at Chris. "She had to come over early to do the skull look. Ain't no way I'm doing this myself." He pointed on his face like 'duh!'. He had a skull face drawn on by the makeup artist herself and a full black outfit. A black button up and black slacks and dress shoes. With his height and build, you could see him as a one night fling.

"Riiiiight." Chris went back to checking his phone.

Jess kept going back and forth checking each of the rooms that will be available to the guests, that being the living room, walk-in kitchen, and two bathrooms. "Why is Chris here early anyway?"

"I'm punctual! Why can't we appreciate punctuality these days?" Chris crosses his arms, but lets out a chuckle.

Emily rolled her eyes jokingly. "An hour early isn't punctual, it screams 'I don't have anything else to do with my life.'"

Chris sat next to Sam. "You're not doing much over here either, Em." Sam chuckled from time to time by their conversation as she kept placing strokes onto the pages.

"I was asked by Mike to come early because I knew how to make a party. I got some decorations he could use."

"Mhm. And I am extremely jacked." Chris sarcastically chaffed.

Emily snorted. "Whatever you say, whoever you are!"

"It's from The Last Of Us!"

Emily shook her head as she rested her weight on the wall behind her "Nobody but you would know that."

Jess shouted for Mike who was across the hall. "I think everything's ready here, Mike!" She walks towards Sam; once Sam's pencil left the page, a hand swiped the sketchbook away.

Sam pouted at her younger friend's action. "Jess..!"

"Look here. She's drawing us!" Jess ushered the rest to the notebook. Everyone was dressed up and almost taking a selfie in Samantha's reimagining. Some important people are missing, but were considered by some circles.

Emily cooed as she saw herself holding a peace sign. "Awww, Sammy!" She took it off of Jess's hand to have Chris take a closer look.

His smile earnest, Chris beamed. "I look pretty cool."

Sam shyly looked away from the three complimenting her work. "I'm waiting to see the others to include them."

Jess gave Sam her sketchbook back. "Secret's safe with us!"

The doorbell rings. Sam, like clockwork, got up towards Mike. "Could I hide this somewhere safe? I didn't bring much of a bag."

"Yeah sure, follow me. Em, could you get the door?" Mike walks up the stairs with Sam behind him.

"Sure." She walked towards the door, twisting the knob just right. Her eyes befell the raggedy clothing and dull dark green skin.

An enthusiastic Matt radiated through the realistic zombie costume. "Hey Em! Didn't expect to see you at the door."

Emily stepped aside to let him in. "Woah Matt, how'd you nail the zombie look that well?"

Matthew's positive attitude changed the atmosphere that surrounded them. "I checked some tutorials online! Cool right?"

Emily smiled. "Piqued my interest for sure." She closed the door behind him. He took in the fresh changes done to Mike's place; an area he frequented before, but looked completely redone for this fun occasion.

Matt turned his head to see Jess sitting down. "Do they always go all out with these parties?"

"Frat parties? Yeah, it gets people going." Jess stood up, walking closer to Matt. They had a quick hug.

Sam and Mike came down the stairs and greeted Matt. Before he could continue surveying his surroundings further. The bell rang one more time. Mike went ahead to open the door as a good host.

You and Ashley arrived together. Josh in a separate car arrived around the same time, which had you three at the door.

Mike stepped aside for the rest to come in. "Welcome in!" He kept the door open as a few others began to gather parking outside his suite.

You had a pirate ensemble on, fitting the halloween theme. Ashley's face was highlighted by fawn features; the pretty white spots surrounded by light brown, a light wing on her eyes, the contouring on the nose with the white dots, and a special fawn headband. She wore a short brown dress with white gloves. Her brown boots perfectly cemented the deer getup.

Matt spoke up as he greeted Ashley. "Ash, you look amazing!"

"Thank you, Matt! So do you!" She responded, but all of that drowned as Mike came to greet you first.

He definitely glanced over to fully take you in; top to bottom. "Nice costume you got on. Very coastal."

Joshua walked up next to you. "Thanks Mike, so do you!" You had a smile creep up your lips due to the compliments you've gathered so far and the night barely began. It started with Ashley, then Josh, and now Mike.

Emily looked around. "Where are Han and Beth?"

Josh's demeanor never changed. "They asked to come in a separate car, Hannah's been practicing how to drive. Something about keeping their costumes a surprise from everyone."

Sam recalled all close interactions with the twins. Hannah purposefully kept her mouth zipped, even if she could never hide anything from Sam. Beth was more relaxed about everything, and can hide a few things. "Right, Han never even told me her costume."

"That's interesting. They'll also be the only high schoolers here, keep 'em safe." Josh looked around towards everyone, knowing they'll be a helping hand. They loved pranking each other, but when it came to safety; it was no joke.

A few nods and notes of agreement came from the entire group. The doorbell kept ringing until the place was filled with college students ready to start the weekend off with a bang.

Hannah and Beth entered in completely differing outfits. Hannah went for Emily from Corpse Bride and Beth decided to go Raven from the DC comics.

You greeted everyone and began to drown into the crowd and the ongoing party. There was dancing, conversation, the loners, people jumping into the swimming pool, and drinking; which you couldn't even tell if it was legal.

You decided to head outside for a breather and dip your feet into the water. Before you could fully slip away, Josh took your hand and moved you towards the hallway near the bathrooms.

His smile, gleaming as ever. He decided to have a square voice changer that could be attached to his shirt. The white shirt and jeans outfit was simple to the naked eye, but with the drawn on blood stain and fake knife, you could tell it was from a slasher film. The iconic line of his would go: What's the matter Sidney? You look like you've seen a ghost.

Instead, he goes on elsewhere. "You enjoying the party so far?"

"Yeah, it's definitely new, but nice. It feels you might drown into the crowd any second." You smiled at his attentive nature.

He nodded. "Right, you gotta just get your footing." Your eyes gaze at the square microphone at his collar and he realizes.

Josh takes it off and clicks a button. His voice was augmented as it came out of the machine. "You know, it works." Your eyes sparkled at the interaction.

You looked into his eyes and back at his hand holding the mic. "That's such attention to detail! Amazing!" The astonishment never truly left your face even when Jess called out to Josh.

Jess tapped on his shoulder and looked up to see him. "I need you for something."

"You good, Jess? What's up?" He looked genuinely concerned for a moment. She wasn't one to ask for Josh out of everybody.

She gave a slight smile at his care. "Just a few minutes of your time." He followed her as they walked off, and you were alone once again. You walked outside to see a cooler with a bunch of drinks. Walking up to it, looking into the different choices, you were stumped.

"I'd say it's too early for a drink." The familiar voice had you turn around to Mike. His hazel eyes stared into you with intensity. "We'll be here all night you know."

You cross your arms at him, amused at his conversation. "You're saying I shouldn't party hard and get wasted?"

He chuckled at how far you took it. "I'm just saying a pirate should be stealing hearts, not taking shots."

Going with his flow, you think of a good response. "Whose heart is on the market to be stolen? I don't see any, personally." You point towards the multitude of couples at his place.

He smiled. "You'd be surprised-" He was cut off by another friend.

Chris cries out from behind you and Michael. "MIKE! Mike! Mike!"

Mike turns around to respond. "Yeah, Chris?"

He points back into the crowd. "A girl puked and I don't know what to do? Come with me let's carry her somewhere. She's unconscious in one of the bathrooms."

Michael groans. "I gotta take care of that, see you."

"Of course, take your time. Enjoy." By this point, Mike gave his back to you. He raises his hand to salute and says back: "not going to enjoy it!"

You chuckle at his response, even if he groans and complains; as anyone would, he still would get the job done wholeheartedly. The party is ever-so slightly going harder. People are making out, sleeping on the floor, jumping to the beat, anything you could imagine was happening.

Going back inside, without a drink. The conversation with Mike took your mind off of it; probably for the best. The song playing was something you used to listen to at times, known to be a cult classic at clubs and parties. It was getting to the good part.

Fresh out the trench, four hundred packs Uh, yeah, I'm spinnin' in Paris

Josh creeped up from behind you. "You should try the dance floor." His smile, filling you with comfort and excitement, had you eager to try something new. There was some space at the designated area; the living room where the sofas were placed away from the wooden floor. He put out his palm for you to grab.

Dress for these hoes, they finna flock Just poured a four in a soda, it pop

You smiled at his gesture, and take his hand. "Why not? I love this song." Sam kept eyeing the two of you as you held his hand. Hannah and Beth could be seen whispering to each other. The eerie feeling chilled your spine, but you ignore it in pursuit of trying something new at this new experience.

Them drugs finna hit, I'm feelin' ill I'm wrestlin' all of my demons, I feel like The Rock

The lights flashed random strong colors at semi-long intervals, blue, red, green, purple, orange. The crowd interested in the song jumped to the beat and chanted the lyrics. You and Josh join them. The beat was about to drop. Everyone was colorfully assorted in costumes and embroidery to show off their favorite characters, mastery in creation and design, and just having fun with outfits.

Ever since I was a kid, I been legit If I was you, I would cut up my wrist

The song moves you and Josh follows you. In your element, you don't realize his hands echoing your hips. Eyes closed, feeling the moment and everything surrounding it slow down. Only you, Josh, and the music mattered.

XO tatted all over her body, yeah She just wanna roll and I don't mind it, yeah

Your costume flowed alongside you, the golden chains and belt moved with you, and Josh was taking all of you in. Regardless of how much of a bad dancer you could've been, it felt natural and the confidence showed. Mike glanced at you, already whisked away before he could've done anything.

Ever since I was a jit, I been legit You should let her go, she wanna be it

Josh looked at Mike, knowing the situation they were both in while mouthing the lyrics. Gritting his teeth, Michael put his weight against the wall, leg up, and arms crossed. Planning his next move, as Josh and you continued to the song.

You smiled to Josh as the song calmed down. "Thanks for calling me up here." You still had energy, but the climax of the song has ended.

Joshua effused; still trying to keep cool. "Of course, I knew you'd enjoy your time."

"Have you?" You raised an eyebrow towards his sincerity.

His blue eyes locked onto yours. "With you? Of course I would."

You chuckle to his seemingly disingenuous response. "You'd say that to everyone."

He bantered alongside you. "You wound me! I can have special moments with special people." His right was on his heart and his left hand was on his forehead, his eyes were closed, looking especially dramatic.

You rebutted, seeing him flirt with Sam and Jess quite often. "Yeah, when you don't flirt with every girl you know!" You and Josh both know flirting with Jess, recently single, was more of a joke. If she gets a guy, she wouldn't let Josh even have an inch of a chance to try.

Mike was getting more pissed as he saw you laughed with another guy, even if that was your mutual friend. The idea of you laughing with a friend was innocent enough, but he knew this guy has it in for you also. He hated it; despising the fact you couldn't be the one to focus on him as they were both pining for you.

There wasn't much you could do, he knew that. He knew you wouldn't get out of your comfort zone and do anything like that. You all were friends, and he understood. Josh also thought the same in regard, which pushes them both to pursue you more aggressively. As a board game would go, each of the guys took turns with trying to get you.

Using their wingmen as chess pieces to get you alone, they strike at different times. He couldn't have Jess call Josh out while you guys were dancing, and when he finally had the chance to, you both were done. Michael's train of thought has clashed as he saw Josh make a move. His finger brushed your cheek. His clenched his fist at the sight.

They both agreed not to make a serious move until you figure yourself out. Everyone knew about it at this point, the staggering looks, the whispers, Jess and Chris, everything was calculated. Until Joshua ruined the deal and Michael had to deal with that, alone. Joshua would have to rave the consequences as well, alone.

Without much thought, Mike was already holding Josh's hand away from your face. "Not going to cut it man."

Josh, looking puzzled, responded to Mike. "Yo, dude, what's going on?" You stepped aside from them, knowing that Mike was not happy and you wanted nothing to do with it.

Mike's facial expression was relaxed, but his stare didn't let up at all. "You know what's going on. You disregarded what we agreed on." Everyone who caught onto the situation surrounded them and almost pushed you back from the suspense and itching tension.

You squeeze through them regardless and hold your head high to see everything.

"You can't just claim the situation however you want. How long are we just gonna sit here and verbally shoot our shots? Some people fall after physical encounters."

He shook his head, more forcefully this time. His tone went deeper as he tried to hammer in his point of view. "That doesn't matter. We agreed on something, Josh. Don't fuck with me."

"You're too scared to shoot your shot, don't blame it on me. That was your doing, I took that grace period with you and now we can BOTH do what we want until she takes a stand."

A clenched fist flew into Josh's face. His right cheek, now bruised and red, turned away. "Fuck you, Mike." He held onto Mike's black collar and took his left hand to swing at him. The punch landed on Mike almost immediately.

The chants of "Fight" grew repetitive and loud. As the fight got more heated, more people covered your vision. After crawling out of the situation you were put in, you find Josh on top of Mike. Josh was landing punch after punch while Mike defended himself. You were beside yourself, this felt too much to bare and your eyes widened at the scene. You ran towards them.

They were both in the wrong, you know that. Neither of them should've had this escalate to this, but nothing could be done now but to stop them both from hurting each other further. Josh had a bloody nose, Mike got a black eye, the injuries on them both were never ending.

You screamed. "Stop this!"

Not that it did anything. Blinded and drowned by the current moment, Mike got the energy to push Josh off of him and began to get on the offense. Before his hit could land, Chris grabbed Josh away and Matt put his hands under Mike's arms and pulled him away.

Chris looked over towards both of his friends. His tone more sincere than it was the entire night; feeling stern. "She asked you guys to stop. Stop this."

Sam began damage control immediately. "Show's over everyone. Go home." Beth began helping her out in swaying people to drop the situation. De-escalating something this heated would never be easy or even fully fulfilled, but Samantha definitely had to try.

Hannah, Emily, and Jessica had nothing to do with helping the scene, instead Hannah was frozen in shock of Michael's newfound discreet confession. Emily and Jessica were silently eating up the whole ordeal; two guys fighting over someone? Yeouch! This sounded like a good Friday night to them!

Once everyone cleared up, Josh immediately headed on. Silently glad that Hannah and Beth had their own separate ride. No one could've even silently checked on him on the side, for he was already gone.

IM BACK BAYBEEEEEEEE! Thank you so much for reading this! I definitely enjoyed this request, please send some more! I have more to write later on, and I definitely have ideas for. I haven't forgotten them, but I got overworked with finals and I couldn't get really good ideas, there was one request I made three separate ideas for, but finally decided on one. •ᴗ•

[park-jimin-isnt-real]

"edge of tonight" part eighteen ~ the intervention

pairing: namjoon x reader (lots of platonic ot7 x reader) rating: T 16+ genre: mafia au, angst this part: Jimin is just as much of an asshole as you thought he was. But he helps. tw: mafia au!, angst, lots of swearing, tragic backstories, allusions to and talk of sexual abuse (nothing explicit) and abuse in general, talk of manipulation, interventions word count: ~6.2k track #21: Surrender ~ MALINDA: “But that was then and this in now, and we made it through the woods somehow, fighting to keep what we've won.” the edge of tonight masterlist an: i can't believe i got this out so quickly. who even am i. what has possessed me. will it continue. who know. anyways, i hope you enjoy this chapter! it's jimin's redemption chapter and i have been waiting for it since i first wrote "the bar". please let me know what you think! a little comment or dm goes a long way to helping me get through writing the next parts. thank you so much for reading!!

No, no, no. This was not what you wanted. This was not what you planned. This was not at all how the past five minutes were supposed to go.

Jackson isn't the only one who can fuck you stupid.

You were stunned silent. Park's words threw you off even more than his actions. That wasn't what you wanted, either. You never wanted to sleep with Jackson, it was usually just a byproduct of him helping you turn your mind off. At some point you stopped caring about Jackson's need to fuck you entirely, more concerned with the end result of a quiet mind.

A very small part of you, in the very back of your mind, wondered, why do you stop thinking when you have sex with Jackson? But you weren't in any physical or mental position right now to think about that.

You didn't want to think anymore. You wanted Jackson. You needed Jackson.

And this wasn't Jackson. This was Park Jimin and he wasn't what you needed. His eyes bore down into yours, still devoid of any amusement or lust. There was only fierce determination and a quiet concern that threw you off even more.

"Th–that's not what I—"

"Isn't it?" Park interrupted you. "Isn't that what you were talking about down there? How you're thinking too much and you need to make it stop?" You especially didn't like how he was throwing your words back at you. They sounded wrong coming from him.

They once sounded wrong coming from Jackson, but you had stopped caring about that, too.

"Breaking news, beautiful: Jackson isn't the only one who can fuck, and I'm a hell of a lot closer."

No, no, no. You didn't want to have sex with Park Jimin. He wasn't the right person, he wouldn't get it right, he wouldn't be able to shut your brain off properly. You tried shaking your head, but the movement came across stilted and jerky. "Don't touch me," you weakly demanded.

"I’m not touching you," came his unyielding response. That denial gave you a small spark of anger again, something you could hold onto and grow until you could fight back against him properly.

"Yes you—"

"Check again, beautiful," Park interrupted you a second time. Your lips started curling into a sneer, even as you did as he said.

One of his legs was between yours, and his arms had you caged in on either side. But you also noticed a slight shake in his shoulders, a subtle shiver that didn't come from adrenaline or anticipation.

Park wasn't on you, he was over you. He was holding himself up, keeping you trapped beneath him by his proximity, but his body was not touching yours. The smallest part of you relaxed, but it wasn't enough to quell your anxiety or your growing anger. "Get off of me."

"Not until we talk."

"Can we not talk like this?"

"Are you gonna make a break for the door as soon as I'm off?" He countered.

It took you several breaths before you could honestly answer, "No. I'll stay and we can talk."

Park looked deep into your eyes, trying to gauge how genuine you were, then fully pushed himself up and climbed off the bed. You rolled off the edge as soon as he was on the other side of the room, sitting on the soft carpet and pulling your legs up towards your chest. You were also able to take in Park's décor: everything was red. Red curtains covered the windows, velvet by the looks of it, like you would see on a stage, blocked out any sunlight that would've come in. Red sheets on the bed, red wallpaper with darker red filigree accents, red carpet even. The lights were soft and warm, adding a gentle ambiance to the space, and the furniture was made of a deep mahogany that complimented the rest of the colors.

It was like he thought himself a goddamn prince, and had his room made to show it.

"The chaise is softer than the floor," he said, nodding towards the furniture on the opposite side of the bed. Your eyes flicked to it over the mattress, you could see the curling build of the backrest with more red fabric, but looked back at Park just as quickly. So far, he was unaffected by your death glare. "Or you can get back on the bed. You know it's not going to hurt you, right?"

You avoided his question, instead bringing up one of your own: "Everyone keeps trying to tell me that you're actually really nice, so what the fuck is your deal, Park?"

That got a sarcastic laugh from him. "I would love to be nice to you," he responded with just as much intensity as you were throwing at him, although none of the venom. "But being nice to you isn't getting you anywhere, so someone's gotta be an asshole and I guess that someone is me."

"Why can't you just back the fuck off instead?" Why couldn't he just leave you alone? Everyone else left you alone! And you were doing just fine!

"Because that's what everyone else is doing." Okay, him reading your mind was starting to get weird. Park turned away, heading over to the wall. You heard him open something as he continued, "And backing the fuck off led to you trying to go back down to Jackass in Busan."

"Jackson." Something closed as you corrected him.

"Jackass," he insisted. He pulled a glass out from somewhere, you couldn't quite see, and poured himself a glass of wine. "Champagne?" Park asked, offering you the drink as if you two weren't in the middle of an argument at that moment.

"Seriously?" He already knew you barely drank, but the fact that he couldn't have this super serious discussion with you—that he wanted to have!—while sober was mildly offensive. He only shrugged, sipping at the glass instead. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Plenty," Park answered nonchalantly between sips. "The real question is, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

The angry, confused glare you were giving him was exactly what he wanted. Jimin needed to keep you angry—not angry enough to actually kill him and run off, but enough that you would continue being genuine. He didn't know what anger was the only thing that got through the cloud of Jackson inside you head, why it was the only thing that made you truly honest, bust as long as it did he was going to exploit that as much as he could.

"Excuse me?" Was all you could manage to say in response, so completely blown away by his accusation that you weren't sure how else to.

Park pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly tapping at the screen until he found what he was looking for. Placing the glass of wine down on top of the fridge, he held up one finger at a time as he read to you from his phone. "One: you don't use beds for anything other than sex. Two: you barely get enough sleep because you aren't sleeping comfortably to begin with, along with nightmares you still have which you occasionally take sleeping pills to try and bypass. Three: you can't stand closed doors because they make you feel trapped, and opening a door will wake you up from whatever stage of sleep you're in. Four: you zone out or fully dissociate unless someone is actively engaging with you, or a door opens. Five: you self-harm, usually with your fingernails, to help get you out of panic attacks that you have way too often." He looked up at you. "I'm out of fingers on this hand, but I can keep going."

For the second time in ten minutes, you were stunned silent by Park's words. Having a list like that read back at you, as if you were in trouble and these were all the things you had done wrong, made you uncomfortable in an unfamiliar way.

"Those are just things I do," you said, choosing to remain ignorant, desperately holding onto that flame of anger from before.

"No," Park placed his phone next to the wine glass, "those are unhealthy coping mechanisms you have to deal with or ignore the effects of your traumas instead of properly addressing them and healing. Normal people don't do this kind of stuff."

Thankfully, he was making it easy to stay angry. "Normal people haven't gone through what I did!"

"Yeah," he said, "exactly. What you've gone through isn't normal, so what you're doing isn't normal, but you keep acting like it is. And the more everyone around you keeps letting you do that, the worse those coping mechanisms get until you reach a breaking point."

And a breaking point you had reached. "I'm done." Park was talking down to you, and you had had enough of it, especially from someone who didn't understand you, who didn't know you or know what you'd been through. You stood up, readjusting your clothes on your way to the door, but Park was relentless.

"Nothing is ever going to get better if you don't work at making it better."

You turned on your heel. "How do you know I haven't tried to?"

"Because you're actively trying to go back to the first person who enabled you—who probably gave you these coping mechanisms to begin with!"

"You don't know anything about him!"

"I know everything I need to know!"

"Get off your fucking high horse, Park!"

"Not until I kick Jackass off of his!"

"I'm not you!" You were taken aback by your words. You weren't sure where that admission had come from, but saying it out loud helped you calm down a bit. Lowering your voice, you continued, "I get it, okay? You're normal and I'm not. But I'm not you."

"No, you're not," he agreed, matching your tone. Actually, now that you thought about it, he had matched your tone this whole time, never trying to be louder or drown you out. It wasn't how your arguments with Jackson went, and if you were being honest with yourself, it was the smallest bit refreshing.

He paused for a moment, letting the energy in the room quiet down as well. He made direct eye contact with you, and something about the earnest, sincere way he looked at you kept you from looking away. "But I was once you."

The fire of anger that had been burning bright inside you died down quickly after that. You even took a step back, not fully understanding what he was saying. "What do you mean?" you asked softly.

Jimin took a deep breath, letting it out in a huff. He knew he'd end up telling you about it, he knew it was the only way you'd finally listen to him and take him seriously. He'd prepared himself for it as much as one could. But it was never easy talking about it. "My parents divorced when I was 10," he started, his voice stable but quiet. "My mom took my little brother to California, where I'm sure they've been living their best life. I was left here with my dad, who was so torn up over everything that soon after his sister was given full custody of me."

Park paused to pick his drink back up, downing the rest of the glass in one go, and you thought that maybe his drinking was due to the story he was about to tell you. You listened, still concerned, still confused, but you decided to let him get it all out without interrupting him. You slowly lowered yourself back to the floor, making yourself comfortable as he continued.

"My aunt lived here in Seoul, in a big, beautiful penthouse. I asked her what she did to afford such a place, and she told me she ran a club. I asked if she would take me there and she said that if I was good she would let me come to work with her sometime." He looked over to the curtained window, as if he were staring out at the horizon instead of red velvet.

"So I was. I worked hard, getting the highest grades in school, making sure every centimeter of that penthouse was spotless. When she learned I liked dancing, she enrolled me in the best dance classes. She told me if I was good there too, she would take me to her club and let me dance. So I did. I became the best dancer in every class, quickly moving into more advanced ones. And she was proud of me."

You could easily recognize that feeling, that wanting to be praised and loved and good. It was why you clung to Jackson so hard when you were still in that room—the only person who treated you with any modicum of kindness, who made you feel like a person rather than an object. It was why you needed to go back to him so badly.

"I was 14 when she finally took me to her club. It was mesmerizing. Glitter everywhere, brandy, cigars, men and women in dressed to the nines throwing money at scantily-clad men and women dancing on the stage. She had me put on a costume, as she called it, and let me go perform. I was the youngest that crowd had ever seen, but my god, the way I raked in money for her…"

Jimin trailed off, getting lost in the memory. The blinding lights, the stench of alcohol and smoke and sweat and something he now knew was sex, the money that littered the stage floor. If only he could go back, if only he could tell his younger self that going to that club was a mistake… but he couldn't change the past. What happened is what happened. He was here now, and that's what mattered.

"Jimin, she told me that night, I have a favor to ask. You know how much money I've spent on you, making sure you have every need taken care of and you want for nothing. I have a way you can start paying me back." Those words had been engrained in his mind since she uttered them to him in one of the hallways upstairs. "Told me Mr. Gu had paid her a very large amount of money to spend some time with me, and all I had to do was listen to him and do as he says for 45 minutes. After all, I owed her of all she had done for me."

You owe him your gratitude, you recalled Jimin telling you months ago, you don't owe him your body. Slowly, piece by piece, a lot of what he had said and done to you started making a bit more sense.

"Carried on like that for three years," he continued, "before she finally got caught and sent to jail, and the club was shut down." Three years was one year short of how long you were in the room, but he was also younger than you when it started.

"Why did you do it?" You didn't mean to ask, but the words found themselves tumbling out of your mouth.

Jimin looked at you for the first time since he started his tale. "I owed her," he said, as if that alone explained it all. In a way, it did. "She had given me everything, and that was how she wanted me to pay her back. There was also the looming threat that if I didn't comply with what she wanted, she would start taking things away, and I didn't want that either."

Guilt and fear. Jackson had done the same with you for years. At some point you stopped caring.

A very small part of you, in the very back of your mind, wondered, when had you stopped caring?

"Having a tragic backstory doesn't give you a reason to be an asshole," you said, though not nearly as mean as you wanted to be. Jimin's lips curled up in a barely-there smile.

"Taehyung and his uncle took me in after she was sentenced, but I was lost without her. She was my everything. Working for her was the only way I knew to gain validation. If she was happy with me, then I was happy. I visited her in jail every week, told her I was working on a way to get her out. I was trying so hard to still be good for her." The barely-there smile turned into a wry one. "That's how I got involved with the Underground, and I dragged Tae with me, though he'll tell you he came willingly to make sure I didn't get myself killed."

Slowly, as to not startle you or spike your anxiety, Jimin started shuffling towards you as he went on. "For two years, Tae and his uncle handled me gently. They understood I was going through some difficult things, and for the most part left me alone. So, I went out every night and got drunk and had sex with anything that walked on two legs. It was shortly before we first met Namjoon that Tae finally snapped. He decided that he'd had enough of watching me waste my life away for someone who only cared about how much money I could make her. He went from leaving me alone to being an asshole. He made sure I ate real food and actually drank water, made me work on things that actually mattered, and didn't let me drink or fuck unless it benefitted the job we were working on—which, at that time, was looking for you." You felt your cheeks heat up just a bit at that.

"For the following two years I fucking hated him for it. Why couldn't he leave me alone again? Why did he have to be such an asshole about everything? I was doing just fine before his intervention. I didn't need his help." That sounded almost verbatim what you had said to him over the past few weeks, since he decided to stop leaving you alone. Suddenly a lot of things Jimin had said or done to you was making a lot of sense.

"I hated it," Jimin repeated, "but it worked. Slowly but surely, I got my life back together, finished high school, and fast-tracked a degree in psychology with an emphasis on understanding trauma that comes from abuse and how to manage, cope, and eventually heal from it." He stopped moving, now significantly closer to you, but still kept his distance. "Going through something traumatic literally rewires your brain, and there are people out there who will recognize that and, instead of offering you help, they will take advantage of that and reinforce the rewiring. I don’t need to know everything about Jackson to know what he's done to you. My Jackson was my aunt."

You actually felt a pang of sympathy towards Jimin. Maybe the two of you weren't so different after all. Still though…

"I wasn't abused." The words were short, stunted almost, like you had to force them out. Jimin only raised an eyebrow at the statement. You quickly amended it. "I mean, in the room, yes, I was, but not in Busan. Not by Jackson." Now he raised both eyebrows, looking down at you, radiating are you serious right now energy.

"Y/N," Jimin said quietly, almost reverently, the way you would expect Namjoon to say your name. He knelt down, joining you on the floor, to make direct eye contact with you again. "Are you genuinely telling me that you don't see the similarities between what happened to me and what happened to you?"

You wanted to say that you didn't see them, but lying felt impossible. You looked down, unable to handle the weight of his gaze. "It's different," you said instead. "You were younger, you didn't know what she was doing."

"And you knew?"

"Of course I knew!" Your eyes snapped back up to his, a small fire of anger lighting again, but this time your anger was directed at yourself. "I was raised to be a manipulator, I knew exactly what was happening, I just—" You dropped your head into your hands with a groan, and it took you several breaths before you could continue. "I was so scared. He got me out. He could take me back. I didn't want to go back."

He gained your trust. He gave you what you wanted. Then he isolated you, made you depend on him for everything, all under the guise of caring about you. Every time you tried fighting back, he fought back harder, always with the looming threat of taking away his protection, of letting you get swept up by some Busan gang and used all over again or even ending up back in the room.

You were scared. So you played along. And, eventually, the constant fear made you tired, made it harder for you to fight back against him. Made it easier to give in and just let it happen.

Made it easier to stop thinking.

You always knew what Jackson was doing. You knew of his manipulations and how much control he had over you. For years he had worn you down, until you were fully caught in his web, uncaring, so fucking tired, until you became what he wanted just so he would leave you alone. You had always been able to see it, you simply chose to ignore it, and thus willingly gave him more and more power over you until he had it all. Until it was too late.

You felt the sting of tears in your eyes. Angry tears. How could you have let this happen?

"Y/N?" Jimin's voice was gentle, soft, in a way you had never heard directed at you. This must have been the nice Jimin everyone kept telling you about, the one that was sweet and kind and cared too deeply and too much. You heard him scoot closer to you, and you lifted your head just enough to see him. Suddenly his company was very much wanted, and you couldn't rationalize the reason why.

"You know it's okay to cry," he said. "It helps, actually. Grieving is an important part of healing."

You shook your head. "I'm not grieving anything."

"You're grieving the loss of a very large part of your identity. Jackson, my aunt, they both found us at extremely vulnerable moments in our lives, times when we were broken, and they put us back together in the way they wanted us to be. They built us up so that they were our foundation, and when that foundation was taken away, we became broken again, lost, and desperate to have back what we knew."

Damn, he was using that degree. Because he was right, again. Despite all that had happened in Park Jimin's room so far, such a large part of you still longed to go back to Busan, to go back to Jackson, back to that familiarity. Jackson broke you with that phone call, and you've been trying to rebuild yourself by doing things he would want you to do, until your own efforts weren't enough and—

You reached a breaking point.

You tried blinking the tears back, but too many had welled up. Several spilled over, trailing down your cheeks. "Fuck you, Park," you muttered with no real ferocity. You wiped at your face, trying to stop crying.

Jimin leaned forward, opening his arms. "Can I?" he asked. It was strange that he asked for you permission to hold you, but what was stranger was that you accepted it. With a quick nod, Jimin was right in front of you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. There was something so gentle about it that made you let the tears flow. You didn't sob, you just cried silently, grieving the loss of who you were supposed to be, of who Jackson was to you. Jimin rubbed your back and softly told you that you were going to be okay.

After a few minutes, he pulled back, wiping your face with the end of his sleeve. "How do you feel?" he asked, still quiet, still gentle. You weren't sure how to answer. The tears had mostly stopped now, but you weren't sure if that was indicative of anything. You were still angry at yourself, angry at Jackson, still shocked by the way Jimin was treating you now. Overall, you were still tired, but something about it was different now. You took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to pinpoint what had changed.

"Better?" Jimin suggested. "Worse? The same?" That gave you some guidance. Thinking it over—shocked you were okay with thinking so much right now—you realized what it was, what had changed.

There was an ever-present weight in your soul that was exhausting to carry every waking moment. But now, it weighed a little less. Just a touch. Not enough to truly effect you, but enough that you could feel it. You felt a little bit lighter, breathed a bit deeper, thought a bit clearer.

"Better," you said. Your voice was slightly hoarse from the crying, but there was a stability to it you hadn't heard yourself use in a long time. "Just a little bit."

How could one conversation do all this to you?

"That's good," Jimin nodded. "Even feeling just a little bit better is good. Here." He moved to stand both of you up, and you followed his guidance without objection. Your legs were slightly wobbly from the position you'd been in, but he helped keep you steady. Once you were balanced he sat on the edge of the bed, still keeping contact with your arm, holding it gently. You could slip out of his hold or shake is hand off easily if you wanted to, but the touch was comforting. You blinked back the last of the tears, wiping your cheeks one last time to clear the remaining tear tracks away, and then stared at the spot next to him.

Jimin smiled. "I promise it won't eat you," he said with a small laugh, before turning serious again. "And neither will I."

You swallowed, but decided to take a chance. Taking a deep breath in, you let it out slowly as you turned around and sat next to him, the mattress dipping to accommodate your shared weights. Part of you was still on high alert, waiting for the inevitable moment when you'd be on your back again. The other part was repeating Jimin's words. The word promise didn't mean anything to you anymore, except maybe now it did. Maybe now it meant what it was supposed to, and people could be held to their word.

"What are you thinking about?" You were thinking too much. "Don't try to say you're thinking too much. Just say what's on your mind. Talking with someone helps almost as much as crying."

Your initial reaction was to fight against that. Talking never helped, it just gave Jackson more ammunition to use against you, to control you. Except— "You're not Jackson."

If he was thrown off by your words this time, he didn't show it. "Correct."

"So, you're not going to treat me like Jackson did."

"Also a correct statement. In fact," he added, "no one here is going to treat you like that."

"Then why do I keep expecting everyone to?" You asked, more to yourself than to Jimin.

He answered anyway. "Because that's what you're used to, and it's going to take time to get you used to something else, something different. But it can be done. You can change."

"What if I can't? What if I'm stuck like this forever?"

Jimin squeezed on your arm just barely, just enough to keep you grounded in the here-and-now, to keep you from spiraling. "It feels that way right now, but you won't always feel like that. And someday, you'll look back and you'll be amazed by all the progress you've made."

"How will I know if I've made any progress? What does progress even look like?" If he was going to keep answering your questions, no matter how existential, you were going to keep asking them.

"Progress looks like little things, every day, that slowly push you towards who you want to be. For you specifically, I'd suggest eating full meals and interacting and socializing with people outside the seven of us, and eventually sleeping on a bed throughout the night." You flinched at that thought, but you couldn't deny he was right. "Listen, Y/N, I know how hard healing is. I still haven't fully healed, and I've been away from my abuser for as long as you've been in Busan. It sucks. It's hard. It hurts."

"You are not making a good case for healing right now."

Jimin chuckled. "It's worth it. Aren't you tired of feeling so tired?" You weren't sure if he was expecting an answer, but after a moment you nodded. "That's why I started being such an asshole. Everyone else has been letting you be tired, because they don't want to make you uncomfortable, but someone's got to push you to do things that will help you, even if you'll be uncomfortable at first."

You nodded again, taking in everything he'd said. You wouldn't like doing what he suggested. It would make you uncomfortable. But you were uncomfortable crying too, and that ultimately turned out to be in your favor. So maybe Jimin was right about this too.

"How long does the uncomfortable last?"

"It'd different for everyone," he shrugged. "Some of the people we work with are fine within a handful of weeks. Others take years, and I know there's a few we've gotten out of the country who are still going to therapy. It took me about a year before I started feeling less tired."

You bit your lip. You had a feeling your healing was going to take a long time, probably a number of years. Especially since, despite your revelation and current feelings— "Part of me still wants to go back to Busan," you admitted softly. Part of you wished it wasn't true.

"Part of you will, for a long time. There's going to be this cognitive dissonance in your head for a while, a fight between what you want to do—like going back to Busan—and what you know you should do—literally anything besides that. You need to remember that that familiarity is only going to hurt you more in the long run."

Of course going to see Jackson now would only hurt you more. Of course it was going to take a long time for you to undo all that rewiring, to build yourself up into who you wanted to be. The only thing left was to figure out who you wanted to be.

There was one last thing you wanted to ask him. "If I start to lose my mind again, can I count on you to be an asshole?"

There was that classic Park Jimin smirk. "Of course, beautiful. No one else is gonna do it, so it might as well be me. There is one condition though, well, two actually." You raised your eyebrow, wondering what conditions he was about to offer you. "First, you need to tell me when you start thinking about going back before you start to lose your mind."

You nodded. That was acceptable, and understandable. "And the second one?"

Jimin stood up, finally releasing your arm and leaving you alone on his bed. "You need to make sure Namjoon-hyung doesn't kill me for what I did today." That, somehow, got a laugh out of you, one that almost sounded genuine.

You also stood up, shaking your head. "Namjoon isn't going to kill you." You started heading for the door, Jimin joining you this time.

"Of course he won't, because you're going to convince him not to." Jimin opened the door, letting you exit first. "Also, and this is just a thought, but you should really try to rebuild that relationship you used to have with him. It doesn't have to get romantic any time soon, but having the bare minimum contact with you is slowly driving him crazy, and at least talking more would be good for both of you."

You knew he was right in that regard as well. You did tell Namjoon you'd try. Maybe you should actually start trying. Maybe it would help you heal, too.

You and Jimin went downstairs together. Namjoon was there in the living room, pacing back and forth as Taehyung tried telling him that everything was going to be fine and Jungkook stood off to the side looking worried and a bit guilty. All three heads snapped towards the two of you.

"Don't kill Jimin," you said bluntly. "He helped."

"Are you going to kill Jimin?" Namjoon asked back, eyes going back and forth between you two. You couldn't tell if he was more concerned for you or angry at the younger.

"No," you answered, brushing past him towards the kitchen, "he helped."

"You're not calling him Park," Taehyung pointed out. And no, you weren't. You hadn't even been thinking of him as Park since he started being nicer to you.

"I told you it was going to work," Jimin said.

"But you didn't need to go about it like that," Tae shot back. It seemed the two of them were about to go at it again. You heard two pairs for footsteps following you, Namjoon and Jungkook you assumed.

"She was about to go back to Busan. Besides, you once handcuffed me to the radiator to keep me from going to the prison!"

"And I've admitted that wasn't my proudest moment!"

You pulled the fridge open, choosing to let the two arguing members fade into the background. "I'm fine, guys." You turned to look at Namjoon over your shoulder. "Really, I am. He really did help me."

"You look like you were crying," Jungkook said quietly, not wanting to point it out but he was also very concerned about what his hyung had done.

"I did," you admitted, "and it helped." You wondered how many times you were going to have to say that before they left you alone about it. You went back to looking in the fridge. "And now I'm hungry."

"You should drink some water, too," Namjoon said, much calmer than before. "Crying dehydrates you." You had a small idea at his words, and Jimin's.

"Would you get me some water?" You asked him softly, looking at him again. It wasn't anything romantic, not by a long shot, but it was a small step in what you hoped was the right direction.

Namjoon was thrown off by your request, but quickly recomposed himself and did as you asked. Jungkook took that as his cue to leave. Someone had to tell Jimin and Tae to take it somewhere else.

"H-here," Namjoon stuttered as he handed you the glass. You smiled softly as you took it.

"Thank you."

You sipped at the cool water, relishing the moisture. You drank half the glass before you put it down and closed the fridge. "What were you doing before Bunny Boy called you in?"

Namjoon smiled sheepishly (the way you used to love) and looked down. "I was actually at the studio with Yoongi-hyung, finally working on some things with him. I should probably be getting back soon. He was pretty upset that I was ditching him."

"Could I come?" you asked before you could talk yourself out of it. "You weren't really dressed to go to the gym anyway.

Namjoon looked back up at you in shock. You hadn't expressed wanting to go anywhere with anyone out of the estate, unless it was with Hueningkai off to find more information. This was new. But it wasn't a bad thing. It was actually what Jimin had been telling all of them about for weeks now. Namjoon decided to finally listen to him, especially since you kept saying that he helped you.

"Sure, yeah, of course. If you want to." Real smooth, Namjoon, he thought.

You smiled again, and Namjoon felt his heart flutter at the sight of it. "We could get takeout on the way? Yoongi won't eat while working unless someone forces him to."

Namjoon nodded, unable to find it in himself to deny you. "Sounds good. Yeonjun's waiting in the garage, if you're ready to go?" You nodded, then grabbed the glass of water and downed the rest of it.

"Let's go," you said, heading towards the door. Namjoon followed you after a moment, wondering what exactly had gone down with you and Jimin. He thought for sure he'd have to pull you off of him before you finally beat him to death. But when he arrived at the estate, Taehyung was telling him that there hadn't been any violent noises coming from Jimin's room so everything was probably okay.

And maybe it was. Maybe Jimin did help you, in the way Jimin helped everyone they worked with. Maybe things would finally start getting better.

thank you everyone for reading!! just a heads up, school starts for me on the 22nd, so updates will probably get more spaced out again. still can't believe i got two chapters out in less than two weeks. please leave a comment or ask about what you thought and what your predictions are for the upcoming parts (the next one is the end of act 2 so you know things are about to get dicey). and let me know if you want to be on the new taglist!

[miange1]

DONNIE DARKO

need a break from smut, breaking up, manipulation, donnie has no shame, manipulation, murder threats, readers parents are homophobic, frank mentioned like once

he didn't know what went wrong. you two were doing just fine— even if it had to be a bit of a secret from some people, he didn't mind that at all. some people mostly being the parents, no one else really seemed to mind and if they did they didn't show it too much.

but something was weird, really weird. you were acting so distant, finding excuses to dodge any affection or any kisses of his when he could give them to you.

what was going on? were you upset with him..? why were you avoiding him so much?

he asked you time and time again, and you swore it was nothing but he could tell that it was something. what were you hiding from him.

"my boyfriend fucking hates me.." he muttered, laying down on the therapists couch while fiddling with his fingers. dr. thurmans eyebrow raised, taking out her notepad as these sort of talks were rare with donnie. "and why is that, hm? why do you think so?"

donnie's nose crinkled a bit, eyes downward and almost as if he was trying to hide the fact he was gonna cry.

"dunno.." but he did know, he knew damn well you lost feelings for him. you no longer loved him. "he jus' isn't loving me anymore, and—" his voice cracked, face plunging into the soft cushion of the pillow beneath him. "i don't know.."

he missed you so much. missed your voice, your smile, your lips when you'd kiss him. and so much more. why did you leave him? this wasn't fair. he was planning on taking you out today, trying to make up for whatever shit he may have done but you didn't tell him.

and you just pulled him somewhere and made it some sort of official break up. "what.. what?" he felt himself disassociate, not even paying attention to anything you may have said to him.

your lips were moving but he heard nothing. his vision felt like a rewinded vhs player, many things flashing at once and loud static played at his ears. "no." he shook his head, grabbing tightly at your shoulders. "no, no. why? don't leave. no." he repeated those things, not letting you go no matter how much you had pulled.

he couldn't remember much after that. all he knew was that you were gone. he couldn't just let this go, he wouldn't. you were the only one for him, the only one he could be with. there was no one else for him, he would go insane without you.

next day he saw you with a girl. holding hands with her and everything. smiling with her and looking so much more happier with her than you did with donnie. the best you two could do was slightly brush fingers when walking next to each other, smile all you wanted too though.

what did she have that he didn't? really. what was it? did he need to become some prissy little blonde girl? loud mouthed and ear piercing voice? is that what he needed?

the entire day he wouldn't stop looking at you, when you looked back you instantly saw him already staring back. his eyes were sad, and filled with anger, guilt, and confusion. he felt like there was more, you wouldn't just leave him like that. for some girl either.

i mean, you were clearly not into women— this all just seemed so fake.

this was stupid. no, not him sneaking out to find this girls house, that wasn't stupid. what was stupid is that you had to choose her of all people. she was no better than donnie, she was like every other girl. she was nothing special.

he let himself slip in between the window of the blondie's room, snickering to himself as he thought. 'dumb bitch left the window open.'

the sharp metal object he held in his hand was being gripped as if he was choking it, his knuckle churning white and aching. he barely bothered being quiet, he wanted her to wake up anyways.

the bed creaked under his weight, a bit of dirt from his shoes staining her sheets whilst he straddled her. he felt the invisible wall blocking him from you, if he just got her away then that wall would leave as well.

her body would squirm a bit before her eyes shot open, and her first instinct would be to scream so donnie harshly slapped his palm to her mouth. "make a sound n'd i'll cut your tongue out.." he made it clear he had a weapon, showing it to her.

"or maybe," he inched the edge towards her eye, her breathing quickening and tears starting to leave her eyes and stain her cheeks and donnie's fingers.

"i can carve your eye out." his lips slightly inched up, almost as a smile yet it was a bit crooked. "frank would like that..he wouldn't be so lonely.." he still had the object in his hand, but moved it away from her eye.

"you're going to leave him alone— don't give me that fuckin' look, you know who." he was getting ready to snap her neck. he wanted to so damn badly. "by the time i leave this room. you will be out of his life."

it was starting to rain, thunder booming and clashing as trees would bang against his window. he was still awake, book in his hand that he wasn't really reading. he was just looking at it, as if he was waiting for something.

a knock came at his window. there we go. he instantly sat up, looking over to see someone— to see you.

he clicked the little lock at it, moment you had stepped inside you forced yourself into his arms and started bawling. barely coherent 'i'm sorrys' reached him, and he resisted every urge to smile.

"i— i should have—" he wrapped his arms tighter around you, shushing you a bit and kissing your forehead. "what..what happened?"

it took you a moment to get yourself together, and when you did you noticed the state you had put donnie in. "shit, i got you all wet." yeah, in multiple ways then one.

"um..donnie first i just wanna say—" he kissed you. he didn't wanna hear what you had to say because he already knew. what's her face told him what he needed to know, called you to "break up" and left.

"don't talk. please." he walked you back onto his bed, leg in between your thighs as he kept the kiss going. the flow of it got rougher and rougher, like the two of you were trying to morph yourselves together.

like you relied on each other, and you would for as long as the two of you could.

[marinettesaltprompts]

Prompt by @kawaiichibiart Here's a prompt based off my favorite fanfics to read, groupchats

Marinette Salt, canon divergence:

It starts off simple, Ladybug makes a groupchat (gc for short; also this won't be brought up, but the gc does work on their civilian phones as well) for her, Chat Noir, Rena Rouge, Carapace and Queen Bee. They use the gc to talk, keeping things vague when it's about their civilian life, and to alert each other of akuma attacks.

It's all fun and games until Ladybug starts training to be the Guardian. She starts to keep more secrets and Chat Noir doesn't like being left in the dark for no reason and wants to know why she's being more secretive. Ultimately, this divides the team and as people join, they're either on Ladybug's side or they aren't.

The majority of them side with Ladybug.

The one's who don't, don't side with Chat Noir, but decide to remain neutral.

As time passes, the team gets closer and they have a system worked out.

And then Miracle Queen happens. Chloe is kicked out of the gc. Ladybug becomes the Guardian and digs her heels in deeper about the secrets she's keeping.

She becomes more snappish at everyone, yelling at them for goofing off in the chat, making the decision that the chat is for professional use only now. They had their fun, it was time to be serious. If they had a problem, she'll fire them the same way she did Chloe.

Whenever someone brings up the fact she looks more tired, more stressed, she'll retort that she'd be less tired and stressed if they were actually good teammates.

Eventually, one of them, probably Rena, probably Pegasus, makes a new gc for everyone but Ladybug. And, without a feeling of remorse, the first thing Chat Noir says is "You know, I can see why we should let Ladybug keep all those secrets, it's not like not sharing them is hurting anyone, oh wait!! 😒"

Yeah...they deserved that.

They use the second chat to have fun, still keeping things vague about their secret IDs, and to talk about how to help Ladybug.

But no matter what they do, Ladybug won't budge. The team that had once been nearly fully on her side, was now pulling away from her. She wasn't the same Ladybug. She was stricter. She held team meetings where all she did was reprimand them for not following her plans.

And anytime they bring up that maybe should tell someone at least some of the secrets she's holding, because clearly since she began keeping them she's become more and more irritated, she'll just tell them to mind their business and holds their miraculous against them, reminding them she can take it away whenever she wanted.

So, when the day comes she loses all but hers and Chat Noir's miraculous, none of them feel bad for her.

Because I don't go fully into what diverges from canon above:

• Marinette doesn't tell Alya she's Ladybug, and thus doesn't make her a permanent holder.

• She still gives Alya her miraculous when she has to leave for a while, but she ends up doing it by pulling Alya away while she's on her way to the park. In short, she throws the responsibility into Alya's hands.

• Adrien does quit temporarily, becoming Catwalker, before going back to being Chat Noir. Because he and all the temps. are repairing their bond after what had happened in the first gc, he does tell them why he quit as best as he can (feeling like he wasn't seen as Ladybug's equal, the secrets, wondering if he even had a place on the team anymore, what happened on the roof, etc.).

• Everyone definitely notices when Ladybug gives Flairmidable her full attention. And it looks so familiar to them, they just can't tell how or why.

• Unlike at the end of S4, Chat Noir isn't as forgiving with Ladybug. He'll still help her, but he doesn't forgive her.

• This part is something I'm not sure I want to happen, but I'm including it anyways incase someone wants to make it happen: she does end up losing her miraculous. Su Han finds out what happened and sees her unfit to be Ladybug or the Guardian, so he takes her miraculous (and jsyk, she doesn't lose her memories. She didn't quit or name someone else as Guardian, she was fired, so her memories are still there)

• while the first chat dies down, the second, surprisingly, is still up and going. They're not going to question it, logic left a long time ago. They're just happy they can still talk to each other.

[hashimasims]

Apologies for the long post ahead

(that's why I put under a cut lol)

Where do I begin? My name is Minthe Thalzoh and my mother is an Elf and my Father is an Alien!

Wait! Let me start over, sorta, from the beginning.

My father crash landed his ship in my Mother's backyard, one thing led to another and now they're the loves of each other's lives and married. They moved out to Willow Creek to start a family.

ENTER ME!

Wasn't I just the cutest little infant!?!

Anyway . . .

My parents knew even then that I was going to be a genius! Though this could have been because of my mixed species genetics. I hit almost every Milestone ahead of the expected timeline and understood and could do a lot more than a "normal" Infant.

Then I became a Toddler!

Not long after, my sister Kaeleen came around and I didn't get as much of my parent's attention, this upset me understandably but I did know that she was smaller and needed more help. I again met all my milestones and sped through all possible toddler skills before my next Lifestage.

As a child I reached the top of my class within a couple of days and worked through two Aspirations. Mom got pregnant again and gave me another sister, Kira, so I helped Kaeleen as best as I could with all her Milestones and Skills. Soon enough it was time for my next birthday.

Father's distress signal was finally answered (took them long enough!) and his world leaders were sending him - and by extension the rest of us - a rescue shuttle to pick us up and bring us back to Unvahiri. I didn't want to go, I was born on this planet and though traveling to another planet did sound like the adventure of a lifetime I made my case to stay. Father agreed as long as I could pass and graduate high school early and get into college before the shuttle got here. Of course I did it! Did you have any doubts? I got into Foxbury for a Distinguished Degree in Physics and I plan to Minor in Robotics. I even got a full ride! My parents set aside a bit of Simoleons for me once I graduate so I can buy a house and start living the Simlander Dream.

I'm sad to have missed meeting my newest sister, Laryse, in person. She was born on the way to Unvahiri, but I get video transmissions from them from time to time. They hope to make it back for when I graduate but I told them not to worry about it and I would try to set up some sort of recording for them. But that was still a long way away, I still have to pass all my classes first. It's a bit lonely right now but at least I was able to sneak my pet, Voxel, into the Dorm. I think the College Board knows he's here but hasn't said anything - yet.

So without further ado I welcome you to a (my) restart of the Not so Berry Challenge

Beginning|Previous|Next

Watcher's notes: I plan for this to be 99.9% all gameplay based but will try to add in a bit of story here and there for fun but I started this save as a de-compressor for Elucea's story which even though I plan different things and randomly write bits for it (not all will I use obvi) it does get rather tiring some days when I do get into that save file (which probably led to my being more in a building/CAS mood for a bit). I want to actually get through a TRUE challenge for once and I've tried the Not So Berry a couple times and abandoned it but through sharing my Glynnans I have made it to Gen 6 so far and don't plan on stopping so maybe by sharing my NSB gameplay I can complete this challenge for once.

Credits (I will try to remember to leave any pose credits when I use them but I can not guarantee that I will remember since I normally Queue out a scene which a good majority of the time takes 5+ posts and then try to remember to add pose credits when I've finished so I do apologize ahead of time when I inevitable forget same as I have been doing for my story with Elucea):

Minthe and Voxel picture - Cat Travels by @bananasplit-sims

Infant Minthe portrait - Happy Christmas by @simmisstrait

Toddler Minthe portrait - Xmas poses 16 by @simmerianne93

Child Minthe portraits - Family Together by @simmireen

Teen Minthe Portraits - Ordris, Kira, and Shreava (parents with infant) are posed with Portrait Poses 14 by Simmerianne93 Minthe and Kaeleen are posed with Stand By Me (redone) by @talentedtrait

Character Card by @stormistargazer

Minthe's portrait in Character card and banner portrait - F. Model Pt. VI by @sciophobis

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Day 24: Failed escape / Hunted down / Too exhausted to keep running Characters: Otto Mentallis, Caligosto Loboto (Sasha and Milla are there briefly too) Warnings: None Summary: Otto finds something wandering around in his Otto B.O.N. system.

Otto looked up at the sound of insistent beeping, and hummed. He'd been drafting up his plans for a mini astralathe, but the interruption piqued his interest. He recognized the beeping as the warning signal that something was stuck in the Otto B.O.N. system.

Or, not stuck necessarily, but moving very slow, in this case. He'd set up the system so the alarm only sounded if something was either unmoving or had been moving slowly for quite some time—it meant he wouldn't get alerted every time a rat traversed through the tunnels, as they were wont to do. A psychic would be able to travel through rapidly, and an animal that knew where they were going wouldn't take too long in there, so something moving slowly was either a lost non-psychic animal, or, less likely, a person.

With a simple thought, he brought a hovering monitor over, which immediately lit up with a display of the entire Otto B.O.N. system. A dot was blinking in the tunnels between the mail room and dorms—a strange place for a blockage. It wasn't used much anyway, but fortunately the system had automatically shut off the passage, so some poor soul wouldn't be sent careening into a rabid raccoon.

"Well, a little distraction never hurt anyone," he mused, turning to a console and typing in a quick command. One of his drones zipped by, darting into the nearest Otto B.O.N. "Let's see what's going on here."

The screen displaying the map swapped to a video feed from the drone. It easily zipped along the tunnels in the direction of the blockage, and Otto sat back and watched, waiting for the feed to display a lost rabbit or squirrel.

The drone turned a corner, and a pair of bright lights greeted him.

Otto about jumped out of his skin, and the thing, whatever it was, startled just as badly. With a terrible shriek, the lights jumped upward, followed by a BANG of the creature hitting the ceiling of the tunnel. The lights flickered and turned downward, and for a brief moment, the drone's night vision was able to get a good look at what they were dealing with.

It was a human. One in a very large shower cap and a very worn out apron. Strange, he looked remarkably similar to the person that Sasha had been holding in his...

Otto blanched.

Oh dear.

"Oooh..." came the man's groan through the video feed. His head suddenly shot up, coming just short of bashing against the ceiling again. "NO! Yyyyou're nnnot gonna catch mmme again!" he cried in slurred tones. With that, he attempted to turn around, nearly getting his overly-long legs stuck in the process. But he managed it, scrambling away from the camera on all fours.

Pressing a hand to his temple, Otto reached out. Sasha, we have a problem.

Otto? What's the matter?

I believe you've lost something.

Yes. Loboto, I'm aware. ...Didn't I tell you this?

Otto winced. I might've been busy. The point is, I've found him.

Immediately Sasha became more alert. Good work. Where is he?

Currently... in the Otto B.O.N. system. He's been down there for probably a day or so, if his slur is anything to work off of.

How did he—nevermind. There was a quiet tisk from the other side of the connection. Do you have a way of retrieving him?

Possibly. Keying in a few more commands, he locked every single Otto B.O.N. entrance but the one in the mail room and the one in his own lab. I'll need backup. I need you and Milla to meet me at the entrance to the mail room, but try to keep a crowd from forming.

We'll do what we can.

Nodding, Otto turned back to the camera feed. The man was already well on his way in the direction of the mail room, but there were several more branches leading from there. With a few more taps on the keyboard, multiple drones entered the Otto B.O.N., heading for the mail room through multiple different routes. There was a chance this wouldn't work—cornered animals had attacked the drones before—but he'd rather do this before he went to the more extreme measure of pushing the poor man through via a cleaning machine. Once the drones were in, he locked the Otto B.O.N. entrance in his lab, and bolted out.

Focusing his psychic powers through his pendant, he managed enough buoyancy to levitate over the flooded quarry and to the Motherlobe entrance. His hurried manner garnered several stares from nearby workers as he bolted into the building, ignoring the receptionist and heading straight for the lev-lift and, from there, the mail room.

"In a hurry, Agent Mentallis?" a curious worker asked as he passed.

"Yes," he answered, and, thinking quickly, added, "I'm receiving an important delivery and needed to see to it right away."

That quenched the curiosity of those observing him, even as Sasha and Milla approached. Otto waved them into the mail room but had them stop just within the door. "Wait here. If he sees too many people, he may panic."

"I understand," Milla said with a nod. "The poor thing."

He headed further down into the mail room, where Lori raised an eyebrow at him from the window in her office. He waved her off. "Not to worry! I'm just flushing something out of the Otto B.O.N. system."

Lori made a noise of disgust. "I didn't even know we had one of those in here! And you're chasing a wild animal into here?!"

"Of course not! It's just—"

A muffled howling noise erupted from somewhere beneath them. Otto and Lori exchanged glances before the woman rolled her eyes and stepped out of her office. "Well, whatever it is, you are cleaning up after it. I'm going on break." With that, she headed back up toward the atrium.

Frowning, Otto approached a pile of unsorted packages and TK'd them aside to reveal the rarely-used Otto B.O.N. hatch. Before he could do anything else, the hatch slammed open, and he jumped back as someone scrambled out of the tunnel. He quickly TK'd the hatch shut again as the person shakily rose to his feet, breathing heavily.

"Wh... where?" Loboto slurred, his optics turning slowly as he took in his surroundings. His eyes adjusted a few times before clicking as they focused on the Psychonauts logo on a nearby package.. "AH! Nnno, not here!"

"I'm afraid so," Otto said, and with a swipe of his TK hand, he snagged Loboto off the ground.

"NO! NOOOO!" Loboto wailed, flailing in Otto's grasp. "LET ME GOOO!"

Sighing, Otto placed his hand on his temple. He's a bit rowdy, but I caught him. Have some food and water taken to your lab and I'll meet you there.

Excellent work, Otto.

Loboto, meanwhile, continued to scream.

"Settle down, now," Otto said, carrying him up toward the atrium. "You've been crawling around there far too long, and you need some food and water."

"LET ME—oh, th-that would be nice, actually." Finally the man went limp. Now that he was still, Otto took note of the dark circles under his optics. Or perhaps that was his natural state?

He nearly informed the man that they would continue to analyze him a while longer, but, not wanting to hear that awful screaming again, he decided that could wait. With that, he gently carried the subject back to Sasha's lab.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Wheezy Weasel x Fem!Witch!Reader || Excerpt

Plot: Wheezy wakes up to find you dancing outside under the moon. And he doesn't believe in fate but you do make him wonder. 🌑🌑🌑

Warnings: Nothing really. Profanity? Unedited/Written on phone.

Tagging: @astridflo , @marinerainbow , @moxiiscool , and @spookiifi .

Wheezy thought you were crazy; dancing out here in the middle of the night, candles lit around you looking ethereal even in the middle of a back alley street. He always thought you were crazy doing this shit. Especially when it was snowing- which luckily, tonight wasn't one of those nights. If it was then he'd have to pick you up and carry you back inside- he'd done it before. Instead it was the first break in Hollywood heat after a week of scorchers. Cool breeze blows over him, making his yellow stained, sleep wrinkled clothes flicker against the cool wind.

He stops in the doorway to watch you in the street for a a little bit, leaning against his shoulder on the doorframe just letting the cool inside the apartment. Taking the moment to enjoy the change in weather, and a smoke.

When you catch sight of him casually watching you, drinking you in like the only thing that'll really hold onto his attention these days - despite the fact he thinks you're nuts, -  , you flash him a bright smile. A pretty as fuck smile. And waive him over.

With a smirk, a cigerette glowing bright between his teeth, and a shake of his head- he moves off the doorframe and finds you in the street. As soon as he's close, you take his hands and take an oppertunity for a break; pausing your dance to catch your breath. "Hey," You whisper, breathless, that smile he loves still all over your face. "Sorry, did I wake you up??"

"Nah," Your absence from his bed definitely did wake him up- but that ain't your problem. "Real nice dancing, doll. Y'look good. How long y'been out here?"

With a shrug, you look around you. The empty street, dry from days and days of hot sun and no rain at all; the other buildings, covered in grafitti and grease stains; Him, beautiful and tall and a little scary. "Not long... " So probably too long then, he thinks, smirking around his cig again. She needs to get some sleep- but there ain't much he can do about that.

His only job here is to keep you happy- and if lighting candles and dancing in the middle of the street makes you happy, thats easy enough. "... so yer dancin' under the moon again, huh? What's the occasion?" Doesn't matter that in the city you can't see shit in the sky except black soot as far as the skyline; you'll dance for the moon anyway. Every now and then.

"Oh- nothing this time~ " You give a small secretive smile; looking at him with eyes full of mischief. "Just happy right now."

"... that so?" He asks, waiting for the good bit.

That mischievious smile still on your lips, you lean up and get onto your tip-toes and stretch your neck, take the cigerette from his lips, and give him a slow, warm kiss. The breeze brushes you both by gently, whispering around you like spirits wondering how this story will end- if it'll be happy or a tragedy. The man has issues, a couple of reasons he shouldn't be allowed to be so happy, but the woman almost makes up for it. They guess that only time will tell.

"Yeah... " You whisper, your breath on his face almost better then smoke. Just as addictive, at least. Fuck. "Just really happy."

His eyes are intense, searing into yours. You give him back his cigarette.

Wheezy doesn't say anything. He doesnt believe in spirits, or fate, or the universe planning stuff- shit just happens, and you deal with it. But still, a dumb part of him thinks if he admits loud enough how good this particular shit turned out-- then something is gonna realise it made a big mistake giving this to him and take you away. And that's not gonna happen. That choice is up to you and you alone; and he's gonna make sure of that.

So wordlessly, Wheezy let's you draw him into your dance again; swaying gently in the light if some crackling candles and a buzzing street lamp down the way. The moon and the stars, the kinda crap that can almost make you believe in magic and fates, twinkling somewhere high in the sky.

[kneazle]

For @911-rarepair-week prompt 1: beginnings/endings ✨️

Pairing: Eddie/Taylor

Rated M for some smut

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

Eddie was...confused. For many reasons.

When Buck told him he and Tommy were back together he was ecstatic for him, the obsessive baking had stopped and that genuine smile returned– and then she was suddenly around. Not during any time he hung out with Tommy or them both together, but Eddie would pull up to Tommy's to see her leaving, or try to make plans and sometimes get told he already had plans with her.

He reformed his friendship with Tommy two months before he and Buck reconciled, but had no idea that Taylor fucking Kelly somehow wormed her way into Tommy's life until then.

Eddie nearly crashed his car into Tommy's mailbox when he saw her walk out of the house for the first time, wearing a sweater that was way too big to be hers and what looked like an overnight bag.

Then nearly died choking on his beer when Tommy informed him he and Taylor were friends.

"I won't make you hang out with her Eddie, but she's not going anywhere either just so you know."

So Eddie did the logical thing–he drove straight to Buck's after.

"Yeah, I know they're friends now," Buck looked at Eddie pacing his loft with clear amusement. "They ran into each other not too long after our breakup."

"I just-" He stopped pacing and turned, placing his hands on the table leaning forward. "How?! And why aren't you weirded out by your boyfriend and ex-girlfriend being good friends!"

Buck shrugged from where he was leaning against the island. "She's rarely around when I'm with Tommy, we've talked sure but at this point she's more his friend then my ex. As for how...I don't know what to tell you Eddie, Tommy didn't go into details and I was just happy someone was there for him."

Eddie flinched at the words. Buck never told him to stop talking to Tommy yet he did so anyway, and so did everyone else. It wasn't until he came back from a trip to Texas and a scolding by Chris that he called. "But does it have to be her?" He huffed.

"She's not some demon Eddie," Buck laughed.

"A witch then," He grumbled. "She put a damn spell on Tommy."

Buck shook his head, chuckling. "Is this you hating Taylor or you being annoyed that she's stealing time with Tommy?" He said, a teasing glint in his eye that had Eddie refusing to answer.

It's about hating the she-devil, obviously.

It was a Friday night when Eddie actually spoke to Taylor for the first time. 

Having missed Tommy's birthday while they were broken up Buck insisted on a late celebration, and Tommy despite not seeming too excited for it, couldn't say no when hit with a pleading pouting Buck. 

Eddie realizes how worth it it is when he sees the look on Tommy's face walking over to the section of the karaoke bar they were at, seeing everyone who came to a late celebration for him.

Tommy deserves it, even if he did take a large swig of his beer to cover his scowl when Taylor hugged him, kissing his cheek after they pulled away. He glanced at Hen and Chimney to see their reactions, but there was nothing and as the night went on he saw them be polite with her anytime they interacted– in fact everyone but him seemed to be fine with her. 

Eddie kept drinking, eventually finding himself leaning against the bar, watching a tipsy Tommy and Chimney belt out some song from a movie half of them probably didn't know but everyone was enjoying. 

It was then that Taylor walked up to him.

"Eddie."

He glanced at her quickly before turning back to the stage.  "Taylor."

"Okay, what's your issue with me?" She sighed, sitting on the stool closest to him, her knee brushing against him making his body tense for a second. "I know I needed to apologize to the others, so I did and we're on okay ground, but I don't recall doing anything to make you hate me this much." Taylor glanced over at Buck where he sat with Maddie hollering towards their men on stage. "Is it because I was a crappy girlfriend to Buck or-"

"You're selfish. You only care about yourself and your career and you'll throw anyone under the bus if need be," Eddie snapped at her, frustration and something else he couldn't place rising.

"I admit that was me, but do you really think Tommy would have become my friend like he has if that was still me?"

"Oh you suddenly changed into a better person huh?" 

She frowned, and crossed her arms over her chest. Eddie averted his gaze and shfited on his feet, not looking at the dip of her shirt. "People can change Eddie, it's been two years."

He said nothing and took another sip of his drink. He didn't want to admit she was right, people can change– and deep down he knew he was holding onto his dislike because hating her was easier than dealing with the opposite. 

Taylor nodded her head, accepting his silence as she got up and left.

His eyes were glued to her walking away even as Buck suddenly was at his side, throwing an arm over Eddie's shoulders.

"Man, Tommy is hot." Buck said beaming, gaze locked on Tommy who was playfully bowing on stage as the song ended. 

Eddie watched Taylor step onto it, genuinely laughing at something Tommy told her, his next words slipping out of his mouth before he registered them. "Taylor's hot."

Buck's eyes snapped to him, wide and shocked. "What?"

"I need another beer," Eddie groaned, shoving Buck away to get another. 

"Wait wait! Taylor's what-"

"I didn't say anything!"

"That's why you hate her so much!" Buck bounced next to him, grinning, tipping slightly with his own drinks getting to him. "You like her!"

"I don't like her man!"

"Okay fine you think she's hot."

"Go away Buck." Eddie practically whined, cradling his beer to him and dropping his head against the bar a little too hard. "I'm not into the she-devil. I had too many beers that's all!"

"Whatever you say!" Buck said with a laugh, ruffling Eddie's hair like he was a child much to his displeasure before running off, yelling for Tommy and tackling him the second he walked off the steps.

His gaze went back to Taylor. Her eyes met his as she finished singing her line and the song ended. He didn't look away until she walked off the stage.

Eddie would take the information to his grave, but he had one or two dreams about Taylor in the past. At least one while she was with Buck that left him making an excuse to not hang out when they were off shift, terrified of running into her and too guilty to look at his best friend.

None of it compared to the real Taylor who laid naked in bed beside him as thoughts of last night filtered in through the haze of alcohol.

Eddie let his eyes and hands wander over her, a little obsessed with the way she moved her hips to match his thrusts, with the way her body was flushed from her first orgasm, and the look of pleasure he was causing.

"Eddie.." She moaned out, nails digging into his back "Get on your back." The words sounded breathless, but the demand behind them was clear. Eddie groaned and wrapped his arm around her, flipping them so she was on top. 

Taylor sat up, and Eddie wished he could take a mental picture. Her sitting on his cock, body flushed with a slight sheen of sweat, hair a mess...–damn he was screwed wasn't he?

She grabbed for his wrists, his eyebrows raising as she pinned them above his head. Her eyes locked with his as she started riding him. Eddie moaned when she sunk back down on him the first time and the feeling of her holding his wrists down, both of them knowing full well he could easily move them.

Eddie kept them there. It was the first time in this position for him–and he couldn't deny how much he was liking it.

"Next time I'll have to tie them up," Taylor told him, mouth inches from his. Eddie's hips thrust up at her words making her chuckle.

Eddie dragged a hand down his face. Fuck.

Beside him Taylor shifted making him tense up.

"Stop thinking so much," Taylor huffed. "We had sex, so what?"

"You're my best friend's ex, that's what! And we hate each other!" 

Taylor shifted up, the sheet falling more off her body. Eddie inhaled sharply and looked away, missing her amused smirk and wandering eyes. "You hate me Eddie, remember, I have no issue with you."

"That's not- I mean-" He swallowed roughly, mind halting as his eyes trailed downwards.

Half of him wanted to wipe that smirk off her lips...the other flashed back to the night before when those same lips were wrapped around him.

Taylor shifted onto her side, pulling the sheet off her body. He felt annoyance spike at the knowing glint, but it did nothing to dim the desire coursing through him. Eddie cursed under his breath before rolling on top of her as she grinned.

Oh yeah he was so completely fucked.

[vicedmuses]

i think i want you as much as you want me. even though clayton had a healthy ego and knew that people would be lucky to get a chance with him, it was nice to hear that this wasn't just about giving the man a job or paying him a higher sum of money. they both seemed to like each other. before, he didn't have any ground to stand on when making up the younger man's part of the conversation. now? now he had all of the confirmation that he needed. he barely stayed in monogamous relationships, but that wasn't because he didn't like them. he just never sought them out and no one tried to make a stable man out of him. so when his shirt was fully unbuttoned and he was able to show off more of himself, he smiled softly. “good, because i plan to turn you on as much as humanly possible. every second i can make your cock hard or your hole clench just thinking about me or listening to me is a second that i'm a winner.” he wrapped his arms around caius' waist. not only to support him, but also because he just liked being close to him. skin to skin. touching any way possible. “i don't just like you because you gave me the best blowjob of my life by the way.” that part was true. he liked that the man didn't stop when he wanted something. that determination was admirable and not something that everyone had. “so i think i'd like that. although i hope you know, if i'm going to be sleeping with you weekly i'm not going to just seek you out for sex. i'm going to take you out to shows, dinner, and everything else you can imagine when someone is being courted.” he returned the kiss slowly. something that almost seemed innocent if you didn't know what the two had gotten up to earlier and why they were here now. then, when he felt that delicious tongue sneak its way into his mouth, he couldn't hold back anymore. clayton started to suck on his tongue lightly, not putting too much force behind it. he moaned a little at the taste and the fact that the two of them seemed to be losing themselves in the deep kiss. his shaft throbbed, bulge growing even more, as he heard the moans come from the man's mouth. only one of the many reasons that he found him to be quite attractive. he didn't know how he was going to manage to pull himself away from him. he was starting to get so used to just kissing him. 

honestly, someone could have told him that kiss lasted ten minutes and he would have believed it. time moved different with caius. he liked it. “kissing's a two way street. only that good because i have such a good partner to do it with.” he winked at the man as more of his clothing was taken off. he watched careful at how it was placed in a neat pile on the chair. good to know that he was at least going to be taken care of while he was here. since he wasn't planning on leaving right after they finish their session together. “if you're sure. i can think of a couple of ways to fill you up anyway.” he smirked slightly after hearing the curse. clayton even gave him a little show, flexing his muscles when it came time for his biceps to be touched. he worked hard on his body, so when it came time to show it off he wasn't going to be the type to back away from it. “trust me, i'm going to use you up as i see fit, but i want to make sure that you can still enjoy yourself too. do you have any plans for the weekend? after i'm done with you, i was planning on taking you to a spa. i already made some reservations for sunday morning. that way your body can be fully relaxed for monday and you won't have to worry about anything.” once again, it was a part of him taking care of his partners when he actually did have them. “if you've seen the things i'd smoke, you'd know that this is more than alright with me. i have some back home too, so it's not like i'm against it.” to show his case a little more, he took the joint and took in a deep inhale before releasing the puff. then, he did it a second time, but a little different. that time, he breathed the smoke into caius' mouth while kissing him deeply. with the joint still in his mouth, he made sure to slowly remove the man's shirt. also putting it in the same pile as his. he wanted to make sure that he smelled like him by the end of this. then, clayton returned the joint to the rightful owner and stepped back. “you're not going to have to do anything else tonight.” he slowly took off his pants, making sure to stand in a place where caius could see a hint of cock, but also the curve of his ass. then, when all of his clothes were in a pile, he went back and got down on his knees in front of caius. he hooked his fingers onto the waistband of his sweatpants, slowly pulling them down. at the same time, clay would kiss along his thighs and legs. then, he repeated those motions until both of them were naked. he grabbed his new employee by his legs, slowly lifting them up. “smoke away baby, i'm going to eat you out like you've never been eaten out before.” 

All the things Clayton was saying eased every and any worry he had; he was quick to come around, to acknowledge that perhaps the rough and tough demeanor the man had in appearance was qualmed by his gentle nature. He was surprised surprised (and pleased) to see just how intimate and passionate the man was, by the way he was administering kisses to his lips and face. It made him pause for a second, just as he undid the last button of the man's shirt, tugging it free from where it had been tucked into his pants, freeing up the space to unveil his torso. Caius was sure to feast his eyes upon it soon, but for now, he maintained eye contact as the man spoke on, reassuring him in that calm, deep tone of voice. "Wow," he chuckled, a grin on his face. "I have to confess, the more you speak, the more turned on I get." That, and the attraction was practically palpable. If this was any other situation, he would be asking the man out on a real date... even if Caius had never actually been on one. Most of his encounters were for sex for monetary gain or something born out of passion. "I just want you to know... you don't have to pay me to get a chance at my ass. At this point, I think I want you as much as you want me." Caius stood on the tips of his toes, standing tall so he could wrap his arms around the man's shoulders, a hand finds the back of Clayton's head, Caius' body (though bulky) is slender as he stretched his back in order to lift himself upward, since the two were of relative height. "If after tonight you enjoy being inside of me, and you decide I'm a worthy fuck, perhaps we should arrange for this to be a weekly thing." Playfully, he wiggled his brows at the man, his features softening as he leaned in, their bodies aligning together as Caius stole a sweet, chaste kiss from his plump lips. This kiss was more sincere, more intimate, tender. He latched onto the upper lip, his mouth opened lightly to enable his tongue to sneak out in order to joyfully toy with its newest partner. Every now and then, a soft moan and a whimper would escape his lips. Kissing was not something he did, especially with past partners and hook-ups, since it was deemed a very intimate gesture. So as he stood there, the kiss being reciprocated with a man so attractive, wealthy and well-endowed, Caius was a vocal mess.

Eventually, the kiss broke away. The result causing his cock to throb as it pressed against Clayton's own bulge. "Sweet Jesus, you're a fuckin' good kisser, Boss." Caius' face was plastered with a sincere smile. His feet set back down on the cement floor of his loft apartment, hands returning to the front to sweep between layers of clothing to caress over the wide expansion of Clayton's chest. "I don't think I'm all that hungry now, I can eat later." He hummed, eyes glancing down at the nature of that strong chest, pert nipples, delectable abs. Caius helped to rid the man of every garment of clothing from his torso, until he stood there in just his pants. Usually, he would carelessly throw things aside, but noticing just how expensive and pristine his suits were, he decided to dress them over a nearby chair. Upon returning, he didn't shy away from taking both hands to test the might and dexterity of the man's biceps. "Hm, fuck." And then simply, he allowed his hand graze along his stomach, his touch a sweet caress along supple flesh. "While I may not be the most skilled bottom you've ever met, don't feel like you have to be too careful with me. Yes, maybe not in the first hour, but... I want you to fuck me like you want to. Don't worry about me, Boss. I know I'm going to struggle to sit and walk after tonight, but I'm glad I have this entire weekend to heal myself up for my first day on the job on Monday." By another quick press to his lips, his left hand latched itself onto the belt buckle at the centre front of the man's hips, guiding him backwards into the living room area, where the stench of marijuana was a lot more noticeable. "Ah, sorry about the blunt. Was settling my nerves a bit." The entire joint was still unsmoked, Caius only having taken a few puffs of it before Clayton knocked upon his door. He reached down, took it between his thumb and pointer finger and took a drag of it. "This alright with you?" He wasn't sure where Clayton stood on smoking, so he offered it out to him as he sat down, "You want a hit of this?" Caius leaned back into the sofa, the size and heft of his cock visible in his sweatpants, his gaze turning down to the volume of the man's groin; he knew from his earlier experience, Clayton wasn't yet fully erect. "If you'd prefer, I wouldn't mind laying back, smoking it, and watch you unravel your prize." Meaning, Caius was still pretty much fully clothed, and he ached to be naked, so long as Clayton was just as exposed to his eyes as well. "But before you do, I need to see you. All of you. Please."

[ao3usermelancholyhues]

𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞

steve harrington/eddie munson for @steddiemicrofic's january prompt: hole, 404 words. ft. flirting, sexual innuendo | T rating read on ao3

“That’s just perfect.” 

Steve stares at his rapidly flattening tire, and the culprit just behind the car. He loosens his tie, irritated. 

It’s not that Steve can’t change a tire—he doesn’t have a spare. 

Robin’s house is a couple of streets over. Sighing, he begins the walk there to call his mechanic.

“No answer,” Steve announces dejectedly as he walks back into Robin’s livingroom and flops down in her armchair, huffing.

The dramatics are a little much, but Robin bites her tongue. No need to kick the man while he’s down (not a rule she always conforms to). 

“I know a guy who could help,” she says instead. “My cousin’s friend.”

Steve perks up. “Is he good?”

Robin bites her tongue again, this time fighting a grin. “Oh, he’s somethin’.” 

Thirty minutes later, there’s a mechanic named Eddie in her livingroom. Steve supposes he looks exactly as expected—grey coveralls, arm tattoos, hands stained but washed (Steve knows, he shook one, with the hand that wasn’t clutching a cup of tea). 

However, Eddie also has long hair tied in a loose bun, and the warmest smile. It lights up his eyes and Steve barely knows where to look. 

Robin’s in the kitchen doorway, both hands on her own tea mug. 

“So. Popped a tire?” asks Eddie. “How’d that happen?”

“Hole.” 

Steve flushes when he hears Robin snort. 

Eddie’s grinning from ear-to-ear. “Hole?”

“P-pothole,” Steve clarifies quickly. “I went over a… a big pothole.” 

Eddie contemplates that, tongue between his teeth and looking Steve up and down, before he says, “Yeah, it’s amazing what a hole can do to you.” 

Steve splutters into his tea. It goes up his nose a little, kind of fucking hurts. Robin barely keeps a lid on her laughter, knowing Steve won’t thank her for it. 

“Eddie, you’re gonna kill him. Quit flirting.” 

“Sorry! Right. Where’s the car?”

He keeps his comments to himself throughout the tire change, even though he really wants to wind up the cute guy in the nice suit with the nice car.

Steve pays him there and then, cash plus tip, but Eddie rejects the tip. 

“Keep that. Since I almost killed you back at the house.” 

Steve blushes. “You caught me off-guard.” 

Eddie can’t resist. “I tell it like it is! Gotta know your way around a hole or you might blow, big boy.” 

There’s no tea this time, but Steve still manages to choke. 

[inkskinned]

it's extremely critical that you see the photo of the perp walk for luigi mangione as being propaganda. i've seen so many people wave it off and instead fawn over his looks. and trust me, i know it ended up being kind of pathetic and weird - but please don't brush it off as a "modelling opportunity" for him. it's a fucking terrifying message the police are sending.

i want to make a few comparisons here, in case you're not from the US or familiar with why the perp walk thing is something to pay attention to. just to set the groundwork for why this is a purposeful, unusual, and cruel act by the nyc police - for why this is not a common occurrence and for why that matters.

the prosecution alleges the show of force is due to the charge of "terrorism." for comparison, in june 2015, tsarnaev was found guilty for the boston marathon bombing, which killed 3 people and injured hundreds. his actions are considered to be an act of domestic terrorism. i have spent the last hour looking through google for pictures of similar to mangione's perp walk - and so far, i have found zero. i also just do not personally remember a moment like that, despite living in boston at the time.

they allege that luigi is a stone-cold killer who carried out a longterm plan, making him particularly dangerous. again for comparison: in nyc, recently cory martin was found guilty of the killing of brandy odom. the murder was planned and premeditated to steal insurance money. and yet no staged perp walk. why didn't her life matter enough for a "show of force"?

but mangione gets paraded by a veritable army of police officers as if he is a rabid animal. for a single citizen who allegedly killed one other single citizen, the "largest perp walk ever" occurs.

so what is the "strong message" that the mayor and the police were trying to send here? the mayor speaks as if mangione is already convicted of terrorism. there is a very thin number of people who feel threatened by the CEO's death. none of us felt like mangione needs to be under massive armed guard.

the message is that you shouldn't resist. they are trying to "make an example" of him - that if you behave badly and kill a single rich person, you'll be treated as if you killed hundreds of people. you will be treated worse than a man who was found guilty of terrorism. you will be considered guilty without trial. the message is that the rich are a protected class, and you cannot touch them without massive punishment. they are trying to prevent a revolution by showing dominance and force against you.

the message is that the police are a puppet of the wealthy and that the law is not equally applied across class disparity. it is "some are more equal than others." it is "one life is more precious than another."

the show of force wasn't for luigi. it was for us. it was a warning. they are trying to remind us who is really in control.