#anyway you ever get that feeling of like. when you find out from a friend that

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

You’re insecure (don’t know what for.)

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Here’s a little Christmas gift for you all!! 🎄🎁 I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :) (p.s I didn’t really proofread this as much because I was getting self conscious and yeah. Happy reading!)

Word count: 1,698.

Masterlist

It was a Friday night and you were lounging in your apartment feeling like the absolute scum of the earth over bouts of insecurity arising in you over some comments made about you throughout the past few weeks.

Comments about how Wanda was too good for you.

How she was way out of your league and how people were clueless as to why she was with you. How a stunning woman like her, could be with someone as simple looking as you.

Thoughts that you yourself have had with your girlfriend basically being a walking goddess and all, how could you not let your mind stray to think those things when you've seen firsthand more attractive people vying for her attention.

So there you were feeling like utter shit while playing video games, when a call from an unknown number came into your phone.

"Hello?" You answer cautiously.

"Y/N?" You hear exclaimed through the phone, having a hard time hearing due to the music blasting from the other side of the call.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me, who is this?" You ask not immediately recognizing the voice.

"Hey, it's me, Nat," the voice supplies, "my phone died so I'm using someone else's. Anyway, so you know how we went out to the bar to grab a few drinks? Well, as we were making our way back to your place, your girlfriend found a club and made her way inside. She's on the dance floor crying, she won't let me take her home, she wants you," Natasha yells through the speaker causing you to immediately stand up and begin looking for your keys.

"Is she okay?" You ask worriedly, your movements halting momentarily.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine, just super drunk," Natasha says, her voice muffled by the sounds around her. "Hey, no Wanda, get off of there, you can't do that!" You suddenly hear Natasha say and you hurry your movements once again, "listen, we're at the Avengers Night Club in uptown, it’s not too far from your place so there's no rush, but the faster you're here, the better. So please, don't take too long," the redhead pleads and you nod, realizing after a moment she can't see you.

"Uh, yeah, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can, thank you Nat," you say appreciatively.

"No worries, see you soon," she replies breathless, "Wanda, oh my god, no you can't eat that, that's a candle-" you hear suddenly and the call disconnects.

When you locate your keys you hastily make your way out of your apartment and into your car. The 10 minute drive to the club feeling eternal.

When you finally reach your destination you park your car and make your way inside the club, immediately finding Natasha.

"Nat!" You exclaim over the music.

"Hey!" The redhead turns to greet you pulling you into a hug.

"Where is she?" You ask Wanda's best friend when you pull back.

The shorter woman frowns, "wait, what the fuck, she was just here a minute ago!" She yells over the music, eyes scanning the club and immediately landing on your girlfriend that is taking shots with a group of people across the bar from where you stand, "there she is!" Natasha says, finger pointing in Wanda's direction.

Once you spot her you nod and with Natasha make your way towards your girlfriend, trying your best not to bump into people in the process. As soon as you reach Wanda, you immediately realize she is much drunker than you have ever seen her be in the two years that you've been together.

"Hey Wanda, Y/N is here, let's get you home," Natasha says as she gathers your girlfriend into her arms.

"That's not gonna work Natty, I know she's not here, you've been saying that all night you little liar," Wanda singsongs, bopping Natasha's nose, causing the redhead to roll her eyes in annoyed amusement.

"I'm serious Wands, she's right there," Natasha says as she turns the redhead to face you.

"Oh, my god! Baby!" Wanda exclaims excitedly, hands thrown up in the air, a drunken smile on her lips.

"Hey Max," you greet with an amused chuckle.

"New friends, hey, hey," Wanda says, waving at the other patrons she was drinking with, "this is my amazingly beautiful girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N," she beams, pulling you in by your waist to introduce you to the group of strangers.

"Hey!" The group exclaimed loudly.

"Hey," you say softly, waving shyly at the sudden attention.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," you hear Wanda say, turning to face her and you see green eyes glossed over with adoration and love, "my beautiful baby, my stunning lover, I love you so much," she yells, voice full of affection.

"How much have you had to drink, amor?" You ask, blushing red.

"I'm not drunk," Wanda slurs, and you raise a challenging eyebrow, "okay, I am drunk. Drunk in love," she says with a dopey smile.

You shake your head, "okay, you're definitely wasted," you say with a laugh.

"No. No, I'm not baby. You really are my beautiful lover. So so beautiful," she pouts, hands cradling your face as tears gloss over in her green eyes. "I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you my love, because you're so stunning. You think I'm the most beautiful person you've ever seen, but that's bullshit! You are the most beautiful person ever! You're so amazing Y/N, you make me so happy and you're so nice, all my friends love you, you treat me like a queen. You're perfect," Wanda says, tears rolling down her face, "I just- I love you so much," she says as she begins sobbing into her hands.

"Okay amor mio, let's get you going," you say, gathering Wanda into your arms as you begin to make your way out of the nightclub. "Hey Nat you good, do you need a ride or something?" You ask the redhead once you make it outside.

"No, I'm good, I think I might stay a little longer, I definitely just saw someone check me out and I want to see where that goes," she smirks and you chuckle, "you just get home safe and call me if you need me alright?" Natasha says as she pulls you and your girlfriend into a hug.

"Yeah sure, thank you," you say appreciatively, "and if you need anything please don't hesitate to call," the redhead nods her head and makes her way back into the club as you walk to your car. After placing Wanda in the passenger side, you buckle her in and make the drive back to your apartment.

Getting Wanda into your home seems to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, the redhead more asleep than awake to properly walk, the alcohol in her system causing her to slightly sway back and forth as you take her up to the apartment.

Once you make it inside you take Wanda to your room, laying her down softly on the bed as you begin her nightly routine.

First you take off her shoes, placing them in your closet. Then you grab one of your t-shirts for her to sleep in. Taking off her dress being nearly impossible as Wanda softly snores.

Once you complete your mission and dress your girlfriend you make your way to your bathroom to grab some makeup removing wipes. As you sit beside your girlfriend you begin gently cleaning off the make-up Wanda wore, your soft swipes across her face causing the redhead to stir awake.

"Hmm, baby, what are you doing?" Wanda asks, voice thick, full of sleep.

"Just taking your makeup off amor, go back to sleep," you whisper, continuing with your task.

"It's okay, leave it on, just lay with me," your girlfriend pouts, tugging on your arm to pull you into bed beside her and you chuckle softly.

"I will in a bit Max, let me just take this off so you can sleep comfortably," you smile as Wanda's eyes slowly open, unshed tears building in her beautiful green eyes. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong?" You ask slowly, a look of confusion on your face at your girlfriend's sudden change in mood.

"You're so good to me baby. So good," Wanda whispers, tears pouring down her face.

Cupping her face gently you wipe her tears away, "hey, none of that Wands, you're my girl. I love taking care of you and you do the same for me, so it's all good," you say smiling softly.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you, but you're everything to me,” Wanda sobs, voice full of emotion, "and don't think I haven't noticed how in your head you have gotten as of late. I know you, and I know what people have been saying has been affecting you. But just know that I put them in their place and that I love you and only you detka, I don't care what they have to say, you are my person and they can all fuck off if they think you’re no good for me, because they don’t know you the way I do,” she monologues. “They don’t know how truly happy you make me. They don’t know how well you take care of me. They don’t know that just by being with you it makes me want to be a better person. They don’t know anything, my love,” she says and you let out a sob.

“God, I love you so much Max, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” you say, crying.

“You’re it for me detka, before you I wasn’t truly living, it’s like everything was preparing me for this moment, now come on, get in bed, let’s go to sleep,” Wanda says as she takes your hands, pulling you into the space beside her.

As you crawl in behind her, you wrap your arms around her frame, “I love you Wanda,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my love,” she replies before you both drift off to sleep.

[bloggerspam]

Merry Christmas!!! Whilst this is technically the finale of the story, in true mimi fashion there will be an epilogue! Look forward to that in the future :)

Thank you to my wonderful betas, Keigo (social pending) and @file-n0t-found for putting up with my rush job <3

===

The first thing Dan does is look at Jason buried in his little blanket nest.

The second thing Dan does is sigh.

Bruce has sighed that way before, a tired kind of sigh before he has to do some bullshit paperwork for WE.

Jason really feels that right now.

He's still trying to come to grips with all he's seen today, much less decide what exactly to do about it.

He knows he's not going to find Sheila anymore, which pretty much guarantees a new future.

The biggest issue is how he's going to deal with his…siblings. His family.

Because that's the thing right? Danny had said they'd be his family in the future, after he dies.

He's not dying anymore, not anytime soon anyway, so how—

Would they even want to be family, if they don't have those experiences?

How did they even become family in the first place? How did Jason even come back from the dead?

Did they become family after his death? Before he came back?

Was he even considered family at all, or just an extra?

"Get up." Dan's voice is smooth, like cut glass. It pulls him out of his spiraling, but reminds him of the impending…what does Jason even call this experience, adventure?

Jason resignedly untangles himself out of his blanket, takes the short walk towards the older man where he now stands by the bedroom door with his arms crossed and looking impatient as all hell.

When Jason is a step away, Dan reaches over to turn the doorknob.

"Wait—I'm, I'm supposed to be dead right now—" Jason tries to stop him but Dan scoffs and ignores him, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

The medallion around his neck glows a soft red, but is no longer accompanied by any sound; No ticks or tocks or whirs or hums, just silence.

Jason follows Dan's surprisingly soft footsteps, cape billowing behind him softly, hesitant and cautious. But the Manor is big, and the hallways remain empty as they walk through.

"Relax." Dan says as he stops at the top of the stairs. He does a little chin tilt towards the foot of the stairwell, where Alfie is ascending the steps.

Or rather, where Alfie is frozen in the act of ascending the steps.

"You've stopped time." Jason finally understands, belatedly following after Dan descending past the butler.

Dan doesn't deign to answer, simply heading deeper into the Manor, towards the entertainment wing.

The two younger Dannies were jovial, if not a little sassy. Dani was plucky and a little feral, no doubt unsocialized from being an experiment (something Jason's trying not to think about). Danny was mature, and given what Jason's seen of their interactions, weirdly in charge. They remind him of Dickie, in a way. Dickie when he was Robin, Dickie when he's Nightwing.

Dan…Dan is an anomaly.

He's an adult, for one thing. Clearly reluctant to be here, which Jason doesn't blame him for, considering he wouldn't want to hang out with kids all night either.

It makes Jason hesitant to ask questions, Dan's entire countenance screaming the kind of reluctant annoyance all elder siblings have when they're saddled with a family friend’s child.

Not that Jason is a child, but compared to Dan…

They get to the theatre, still needlessly big as ever, with little trouble. Dan beelines for a middle back seat, plopping down and (as Bab's would say) man spreading like some kind of King.

It's kind of comically funny to watch the ghost almost sink into the ginormous plush seat. Jason almost giggles at it, but catches himself.

Dan, of course, catches him and rolls his eyes. He gestures wordlessly to the seat beside him for Jason to take, which he does.

Dan lifts a hand to snap, the large theatre screen lighting up in an eerie green light in conjunction with the echoing sounds of consecutive ticks, but no tocks.

Jason darts a glance at the medallion that the ghosts have been tossing back and forth at each other all night, curious. It's still glowing red, but one of the clock’s hands is spinning green.

Interesting.

Dan catches him looking and smirks, leaning down a bit to rumble a low, "The kiddies are powerful, but lack finesse."

Jason chuckles, just as the screen starts to show a man facing away from the camera.

He's built like a truck, with a brown leather jacket and wearing a blood-red helmet.

"That's you." Dan leans back, "Or, more accurately, it was you. Red Hood."

"Danny mentioned that name earlier," Jason absently says as he watches the screen intently, fascinated. "Is that my vigilante name?"

He—the man on the screen—Red Hood is staring out over Gotham. The camera pans out slowly, like some kind of action movie b-roll, but still Hood doesn't turn around.

"Yes," A pause. "No."

Jason raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the man. "Which one is it?"

"It's both." Dan huffs. "You're a bad guy, of a sort, at first."

Jason freezes, head whipping back and forth from the screen to Dan. Hood is still not doing anything on the screen, but he can see the whole outfit now: Black military pants, ass-kicking steel-toed boots, gloves.

Two guns, holstered on his thighs.

"Batman doesn't do guns." Jason says faintly.

"Batman doesn't kill either." Dan agrees, "And Red Hood has definitely killed."

Jason abruptly stands up, about to—about to leave but Dan's hand whips out like a snake, gripping his wrist to pull him back down.

He tries to breathe, tries not to cry, tries to fucking think but all he can see is the man on the screen, all he can hear is kill kill kill, all he can feel is a blackness threatening to come over him.

Just like his deadbeat dad, maybe even worse. A disappointment and a half.

"Breathe." Dan commands, a hand coming to clasp at the back of his neck to shake him like an errant puppy,

The crazy part is that Jason's body listens.

His lungs gulp in air, laughing a little hysterically, "I think—I think I forgot h-how—"

"Nonsense." Dan tsks, "In and out, even babies do it. You telling me you're worse than a baby?"

"Define w-worse," Jason stutters, "F-future kill-ler seems wors-se."

Dan clicks his tongue again, before petulantly crossing his arms to mutter, "You get better."

Jason can't help but honk out a laugh at that, manic as it may be.

But it works, it gets him breathing and more level-headed. It gets him to think.

On the screen, Red Hood suddenly looks to the left, revealing that the helmet is red all around, with white lenses where the eyes are supposed to be. He looks sinister, the blood-red of it almost getting darker in the shadows.

"What are we watching?" Jason croaks out, "He's not doing anything."

"Patience." Dan admonishes, "Who says he has to be doing something for this to be important?"

"Isn't that the whole point of all this?" Jason counters, "Danny said you're supposed to show me things I should know."

Dan gestures to the screen, as if to say well, aren't I?

"You've told me Red Hood is a killer. All you're showing me is Red Hood standing on a rooftop." Jason bites his lip, swallowing. "I—I'm not going to find Sheila, so I won't be Red Hood anymore. Why show me this?"

"You're still focusing on the wrong things." Dan sighs, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose like Jason is being the unreasonable one. "And I told you, you get better. See?"

Dan sweeps a hand towards the screen, where the camera is still watching a brooding Red Hood menacingly looking over the building ledge.

"Just because he's not actively killing someone—" Jason snarks, only for Dan to click his tongue again.

"His chest, kid. Look at his chest." Dan flaps a hand, leaning an elbow on the armrest. He sets his cheek onto his fist, looking bored as he crosses his bulky legs.

Jason looks closer, and—"That's a bat."

"Batman wouldn't have given him the symbol if Hood didn't get better." Dan agrees.

Something in Jason's gut uncoils, burning metal sizzling into a low hiss, relaxing his body.

Something swings past Hood, whooping and hollering. It's a person, bouncing from roof to roof.

Another shadow quickly follows, chased by a quick come on Hood!

More shadows converge from all sorts of directions, clashing and swinging away, repeating in all sorts of different combinations.

It takes Jason a bit too long to realize: they're playing tag.

Those must be his siblings, the other vigilantes Danny was talking about earlier in the night.

Cassandra, Duke, and Stephanie. Tiny Tim, even—maybe Damian, if he's old enough. There're others too, more vigilantes Danny probably didn't get around to introducing Jason to. Maybe a whole hoard of extended family, this future Bruce seems to have a bit of an adoption problem.

Far off, Jason can even see a blur of blue that pangs through his chest. Dickie.

Hood simply watches, huffing a small laugh before shaking his head and settling down on the ledge.

"…Is he not gonna join them?" Jason asks after a long moment, watching the others play with Red Hood.

"…No." Dan says, after a moment. He sounds sad about it, like he's sorry.

"What is this supposed to teach me?" Jason slumps, making his voice nasally and acting out the best he can remember: "I understand, Spirit. The case of this unhappy man might be my own."

Dan flicks his forehead. "Ow! What the fuck!" Jason grumps.

Dan flicks his forehead again. "Don't call me Spirit. It's rude."

Jason huffs.

"I just don't see the point. Why show me someone who won't exist anymore?" Jason slides lower into his seat, feeling exhausted and tired. "And in the first place, if he gets better, why give me this second chance at all?" Jason scoffs, mockingly. "When my death, in the grand scheme of things, doesn't even matter?"

Dan breathes heavily out his nose, exhaling what feels like years worth of regrets and capital I Issues.

"Why show me a future that'll never happen anymore?" Jason mumbles, discouraged by Dan's silence.

"Because," Dan's voice is heavy, with the weight of a thousand lives, "In this universe, you die, and decapitate 8 crime lords."

Jason stiffens, but Dan's voice rolls over him anyway.

"In a different universe, I die, and I raze a whole planet into dust."

Jason is once again at a loss for words. Because that—that kind of comparison isn't even—it's just not to scale.

"When you die," Dan continues, the theatre screen flipping through a series of snapshots, "You crawl your way out of your grave, bit by bit with bloody nails, spitting dirt. You get exposed to something called the Lazarus Pits, what I know as ectoplasm."

"Like the—the ghostbuster stuff?" Jason blurts out, watching a bigger, buffer version of himself shoot out of a glowing green pit of viscous water.

"Yes, like the ghostbuster stuff." Dan rolls his eyes, gesturing towards the screen where future Jason is putting on the red helmet for what seems like the first time. "But the source is corrupted, and you get—sick, for lack of a better term."

"What kind of sick person goes on a killing spree?" Jason says confusedly, if a little fearful as future him dumps an entire duffle bag of decapitated heads onto the floor.

"The same kind of sick person that terminates an entire planet." Dan answers sardonically.

"But I get better." Jason is trying not to throw up, even though the scene with the heads has already cut past, back to the lonely tableau of Hood sitting on a ledge watching his siblings play tag. "You get better."

"For what it's worth, yes." Dan smiles, the first smile he's seen from the older man, and it looks like it hurts. "And we have family to thank for that."

Jason turns back towards the screen, making a face of uncertainty.

Dan huffs a laugh, a soft rumbly one that hurts less than the smile did, "This is why I'm showing you this."

On the screen, a big black shadow comes to join Hood on the ledge.

Batman.

The two of them sit in silence. It's not an uncomfortable silence, but even Jason can tell through the screen that it's not…not the kind of silence that Jason and Bruce usually share. It's stilted, unsure.

Precarious.

"It was never about Red Hood, you see." Dan's voice is smooth. "It was always about the isolation, and the heartbreak."

Jason watches as Hood wordlessly gets up, patting Batman once on the shoulder before exiting stage left.

The camera pans out, the shadows in the distance disappearing one by one, until Batman is the only one left, dawn just peeking out from the horizon, Gotham smog and air pollution giving the city its own splash of color in its otherwise dreary black and white tableau.

"Even if you're never Red Hood in this timeline," Dan lays a hand on Jason's head, heavy and comforting and admonishing all at once. "You tend to isolate, street kid habits always peeking through, never feeling safe."

"So you're showing me this because you want me to…to be better?" Jason whispers, watching as Batman finally stands up and grapples away back home. The big screen fades to black, sudden and blinding.

"I want you to feel safe." Dan stresses. "I want you to accept being loved as a given, to ask for help."

Jason feels tears fall down his cheeks, burning his skin and making everything feel hazy in the darkness of the theatre.

"…I didn't mean to be so reckless with my life." Jason whispers. "It's just that Robin is magic and it's hard not to feel…invincible."

"I know."

"I'm always—I dunno how long this will last. How long Bruce will let me stay."

"Forever, probably."

"Dickie doesn't even want me here, and I don't even blame him."

"Dick Grayson's problem has always been daddy issues. You just had terrible timing."

"…What if I—What if I take too much after Willis?"

"Personally, I think you take after Catherine more. But that's just me."

"Will—Do you think I could still, that I could help my, my other siblings? What if I fuck it up?"

"How would I know?"

This renders Jason speechless for a moment, causing him to whip his head up, tears abruptly stopping in his indignation.

"You have a fucking time medallion!" Jason yells, gesturing for good measure.

"So?" Dan raises an eyebrow.

And that—that's a fair point, Jason supposes. It drains all his doubts and fight and just—emotions right on out of him.

He feels a little lighter, like he's lost ten—no, twenty pounds.

"Is that all?" Dan asks, after a moment. Jason thinks on it a bit, before nodding and shrugging.

"Then let's get this over with." Dan floats up, dragging Jason with him.

"Wait, what?" Jason squawks as they float through walls and ceilings, "That's it?"

"You said that was it!" Dan argues, "What else is there?"

"I'm still confused, for one thing!" Jason oomphs a little as he's dropped like a sack of potatoes back onto his bed. "For another, I don't know, I feel like a finale should be a little more….dramatic?"

"A heartfelt spilling of guts isn't dramatic enough for you?" Dan raises an eyebrow, medallion losing its red hue and glowing green again.

"Well—I mean." Jason sputters, "So that's it? You're just gonna leave?"

"Yes." Dan sniffs, opening up a portal.

"No." Danny says, only for Dani to come barrelling through and tackling Dan through the wall.

Danny steps out of the portal, laughing as Dan and Dani roll around, from up from the floor, through the ceiling, back through the wall.

Jason sighs with a little bit of relief, though for what, he's not sure.

"Ready for the finale?" Danny smirks, settling himself beside Jason on the bed.

Dani falls through the ceiling, falling with a little bounce on his other side, with Dan floating through the floor with a huff to come stand by the bed.

Jason takes a bracing breath. "Ready as I'll ever be, I guess. How's this gonna go?"

"It's a little anticlimactic, I'm afraid." Danny says with an apologetic smile. "We're just here to say goodbye."

Jason groans, falling back on his bed. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." Dani giggles. "We'll get you back to the correct time, and it'll be like we were never here."

"Your memories will stay," Dan rumbles, "Just not forever. Like memories from when you were ten."

"That was only five years ago." Jason points out, curling onto his side. "I remember that stuff."

"But you won't when you're older." Danny reminds him, "The point is, you'll make your decisions, and the timelines will change. You'll forget about us, eventually, but you'll know what to do."

"What if I don't know what I want to do now?" Jason hedges. Because it's true. He still doesn't know what to do about his siblings, or about Dickie, or even Bruce.

"You know what you won't do." Dan shrugs, "That's the important bit."

“Besides,” Dani smirks, shrugging her shoulders in a careless gesture, “Everything we’ve shown you tonight is basically obsolete, isn’t it?”

"Fair enough." Jason sighs, before he sits up, and opens his arms. "Come on. Proper goodbye."

Danny and Dani grin, tackling him into the bed.

They roll around like that, laughing and squealing, before settling with Jason on the bottom and the Dannies piled above him. They all look over towards Dan, who scoffs.

Danny raises a hand, flicking a finger towards them in a beckoning gesture. Dan is yanked into the pile, where the tussle restarts all over again.

"This was fun." Dani grins. "I hope you visit the UK someday."

"What?" Jason pants, tired from the wrestling and realizing how out of depth he is in a cuddle puddle with three superpowered ghosts.

"Don't worry about it." Dan grunts, straightening everyone up, grabbing each of the Dannies under each arm. "Say goodbye, children."

"Goodbye children!" the Dannies intone mockingly, causing another ruckus of laughter.

"Bye, and thanks, I guess?" Jason's voice wobbles a bit, "It was a nice story, Mr. Dickens."

Dani giggles. "Thanks! If you like this, you should read the book!"

"You didn't even read the book." Dan rolls his eyes, the medallion glowing green once more to open a portal behind them. "You only watched the Muppets version."

"A masterpiece." Jason chuckles, getting a wink from Dani.

"Bye, Jason Todd." Danny waves as Dan floats them up through the portal, "I hope, this time, you're not quite so alone."

The portal fizzles out, leaving Jason in solemn silence.

And then the door to his room busts open, causing Jason to instinctively tumble backwards and off the bed to get cover on the other side.

When he peeks over the edge, Bruce is breathing heavily with Alfred right behind him.

"Y-you," Jason has never seen Bruce this flustered, "You pressed the SOS button twenty-eight times."

"Oh." Jason blinks. "Uh. Right."

"What…" Bruce and Alfred come to the bedside, looking warily around the room. "Did something happen, Master Jason?"

"Uh." Jason coughs, before smiling sheepishly as he picks himself back up.

"Would you believe me if I told you it was Ghosts?"

A Christmas Carol AU

Inspired by a prompt found in the @haunting-heroes-creative-games :) (i.e. back on my shit again)

When a 15 year old Jason, pissed at Bruce for taking Robin away from him, finds his birth certificate he realizes Catherine Todd is not his real mother.

Just as he resolves to go out and search for his birth mother, Jason finds himself accosted by three ghosts in his room, talking about A Christmas Carol of all things.

===

"So, what? We're gonna Christmas Carol him?"

Dan scoffs, crossing his bulky arms with an unimpressed look. "We hated that movie."

"I didn't." Dani chirps, disturbingly cheery, "I didn't see it!"

"We hate Christmas," Danny corrects, "But the movie was alright, and the logic is sound."

"I don't hate Christmas," Dani once again interjects cheerily, "I've never participated!"

"Sound my ass," Dan growls over her, throwing his hands up. "We don't even know this guy!"

"Minor detail." Danny insists, "Tuck can look him up."

"He's a fucking Bat, Danny." Dan scrunches up his face, pinching the bridge of his nose just like Vlad does when he's disgruntled with any of Dad's shenanigans.

"He's a Robin, actually." Dani pipes in, "And he's just a kid. How hard is it gonna be to pretend to be this kid's Ghosts?"

"You're a kid," Dan reminds her, crossing his arms, "And you didn't believe me when I told you sticking a fork in the outlet would shock you."

"I believed you," Dani sniffs haughtily, crossing her arms and pointing her nose up with a snooty voice, "The warning simply did not deter me from doing it anyway."

"We don't have to convince him we're his Ghosts, or even that we knew him before," Danny reasons, needling, "We just have to convince him that we're…"

He hums, pointing at Dani. "Past."

He points at himself, "Present."

He points at Dan, "Future."

Dani does a little cheer, arms up and twirling into the air before landing with her legs over Dan's shoulders, hands and head settling atop Dan's fiery, but harmless, hair. It flickers, before going limp into long white strands that Dani messes up by gently scrunching up the strands and running her fingers through them.

Dan lets her, huffing and looking weirdly like a downtrodden, wet cat. "Why am I future?"

"Because." Danny doesn't continue, because he knows it makes Dan annoyed. True to form, his scowl gets worse, like sucking on a lemon. They all know why anyway.

Dani grins, triumphant and knowing, letting her voice go real deep, "The future," she intones into Dan's hair, "is here."

"The future is now," Danny corrects her, but doesn't lose his smile, floating up to tuck a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

"The future is already here," Dan mumbles his correction, or is it a follow-up? "It's just not evenly distributed."

"How about you distribute some of those muscles, Gibson," Danny sighs, shaking his head "Waiting for puberty is such a drag, and we both know you didn't get the mass from Vlad's side of the family."

Dan makes a moue of disgust, but it serves him right. The consequences of his own actions, and whatnot. He looks up at Dani, who simply shrugs. "I think you'll do great." She leans down to give him two pats on the arm.

"So how's acting out A Christmas Carol gonna help us stop this Jason guy from blowing up?" Dani fiddles with Dan's hair, tongue poking out as she attempts a braid, "Will he even see us? Ghosts in this dimension taste funny."

"He'll be able to see us, it's magically rich enough for some ghosts to maintain a semblance of themselves," Danny explains for the third time. Dani and Dan hum at different pitches, and even though Danny is the common denominator he kind of hates that Vlad has more of a lasting impression on them. "The ectoplasm here is scarce and mostly corrupted, though, so it's rare."

"So there's lotsa bad ghosts here?" Dani eyes the messy braid she's made, proud, even as Dan's silky hair immediately causes it to fall apart, "Or 'mentally unsound' or whatever Frostbite called it."

"No," Dan grumbles, annoyed and indulging all at once, "Corruption begets ecto-rot, but the scarcity means they're not strong enough to actually retain their sense of self enough to rot."

"Shades," Danny explains when Dani looks even more confused, "There's lots of shades."

"Is this one of the Olympian dimensions?" Dani groans, flopping over Dan's shoulder as he sits down on the sofa, "I love Pandora and all, but if I see Zeus again I'm gonna lose it."

"It's one of the hero dimensions," Danny hums, taking over braiding Dan's hair the way Jazz made him when they were little, "There's a couple of Amazons walking about, but on the whole no Olympians."

"I don't know why he didn't just dump me in a Norse dimension." Dan leans back and closes his eyes to their ministrations. "Especially with my current occupation."

The three of them are sitting in Dan's apartment, a large loft studio located somewhere in the UK of the aforementioned hero-dimension. Alber-something, Danny can't remember. Doesn't need to, it being a different dimension from his anyway.

Dan doesn't have a lot of things: a sofa and TV, a bed in the corner, a decent but small kitchen. They're still trying to figure out decorations, but Dan on the whole is a minimalist so it's been slow going.

He's working as a bartender these nights, whiling away his odd existence now that his form has stabilized.

And wasn't that a trip? Learning that hey, adult lightning halfas shouldn't really be mixed with teenage ice halfas, actually!

Apparently, ectoplasm can become corrupted if you try to combine incompatible sources.

Apparently, side effects include (but are not limited to) unmitigated violence and a devastating need for vengeance.

Sound familiar?

"This dimension has a lot of time continuity errors," Danny reminds him, "Dropping you here gave the least amount of pushback."

"Yeah, yeah," Dan flaps a lazy hand, "Praise be the speedforce and flashpoints and whatnot."

"Plus," Dani adds softly, absent-minded as she watches Danny finish up the braid, "Lotsa heroes to help out if you relapse."

Dan heaves a slow, controlled sigh. Danny and Dani both pretend they don't notice.

"Is it bad?" Dan doesn't open his eyes, his voice is so low Danny can only hear him by virtue of his ghost powers, "Like me levels bad?"

"No." Danny shakes his head, leaning into his older self, his older brother of sorts, "He decapitated eight crime lords, killed a couple of assassins, maybe an innocent or two depending on your definition of things."

"Past tense?" Dan scrunches his nose. They all hate how confusing Time Shenanigans are.

"He's living as Red Hood, right this very moment."

"Red Hood?" Dani questions, "That his hero name?"

"Crime lord alias." Danny corrects her, "But he's more of a vigilante these days. Has a bat on his chest and everything."

"But it's bad enough to warrant a trip to the past." Dan points out, "Bad enough for us to try and persuade him. Does he relapse?"

"Not…exactly." Danny scrunches his face, not wanting to explain Clockwork's ambiguity.

Dani floats to spread over Danny and Dan's laps, sprawling out and purring like a cat. Self-soothing, though it's more for their benefit than hers.

"Like Dani said, there’re lots of heroes here, and he doesn't have powers." Danny continues, petting at Dani's soft hair, "The world doesn't end. He doesn't have the means to, even with the ecto-rot."

Danny pauses, and chooses his words deliberately and carefully. "And deep down, Jason Todd is a hero through and through. Relapse would be…difficult. His Obsession is similar to yours."

Dan lets that sit for a moment, but nods, Danny moving a little with the motion. The tension slowly bleeds out as they wait like that, enjoying each other's company.

"If the world doesn't end," Dani whispers, "Why is Clockwork sending all of us?"

Danny thinks on that, on his meeting with Clockwork. The Ancient's voice when he explained what would happen.

He thinks about Jason Todd, about Bruce Wayne, and Catherine, and Sheila. He thinks about Batman, and Robin.

He thinks about Dick Grayson and Tim Drake, about Damian Al Ghul, about Cassandra Cain, and all of Jason's Outlaws.

He thinks about a tattered uniform that stays up in a glass case for a long, long time.

Most of all, he thinks about Dan.

He thinks about regrets and one bad day away.

And then he stops thinking about it, because sometimes the past is the past, and other times, it's the future that never happens that haunts you instead.

"You know, Dani." He settles on, "I'm not sure. He probably has his reasons."

Dan leans heavier onto him, and they lean together like that, with Dani in their laps.

Ghosts of decisions made, unmade, and never to be.

Follow the story on AO3 here!

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

[megwritesriddles]

Tom Riddle as your secret admirer at Christmas ༊*·˚

Word count: 630

Masterlist

Authors note: Different style of writing for me, half bullet points, half prose. Not sure what to call it, a drabble? no it's too long. Headcanons? no, there's a storyline. This was originally going to be a series of scenarios with Riddle at various relationship stages, but of course the next one I wrote turned into a beast (friends with benefits), so here's this while I finish the other. Whatever this is, I hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You know of Riddle but you don’t really know that he knows of you

But boy, he definitely does know of you, way more than he should

He admires your intelligence, and kindness and looks from afar

He doesn’t want to complicate things for both of you by associating with you in public initially

AND he hates the idea of actually being vulnerable when not hiding behind the blanket of anonymity 

He sticks to occasional anonymous gifts to satiate his inconvenient desires for connection with you

My angel,

Flowers that while exquisite, may never even hope to compete with your beauty. A mere shallow token from the deep well of feelings I harbour.

Yours,

T

Attached is a bouquet of your favourite flowers, enchanted never to wilt

Enough people’s names start with T that he’s happy to sign the card this way, unconsciously hoping you might figure him out

When you first receive them, you’re sure they mustn’t be for you, asking around all your dormmates to see if they might be for them

Nobody claims them, and they are your absolute favourite flower

You display them in a vase on your bedside despite finding the whole thing odd

A few more little gifts appear for you throughout the year, although you have doubts they could really be for you, they are all personalised to you

You spend many nights with friends pondering over who ‘T’ may be

Riddle knows how much Christmas seems to mean to most romantic couples, so he figures he must go all out for you

My angel,

The days are long and gloomy but ever brightened by your presence. Thoughts of you keep out the harsh cold at night, giving me my very first taste of what many call ‘the Christmas spirit’. I wish for us to spend time together like other couples do, cuddled together by the fire. Perhaps one day. I have never hoped for such things before, but you have changed everything. You are now and forever my angel. I worship you from afar.

Yours,

T

With this note comes a large box, full of various gifts

Jewellery, perfumes, chocolates, luxurious quills and ink, an intricate leatherbound diary, and indulgent bathing products, all perfectly tailored to your preferences

You’re unsure what to make of all this, half-flattered, half-creeped out

Riddle had pulled a lot of strings to get you so many expensive products, so is absolutely thrilled when that day at dinner, he spots you wearing the angel wing necklace he gave you

You don’t realise that both your initials are engraved on the back

When Tom Riddle, polite and charming Head Boy, compliments your necklace as you sit alone, you pay it no mind

Until he innocuously asks if there are any engravings, and you look down to see the letters T.M.R. staring back at you beside your own initials

He’s gone by the time you look back up, though a note sits on the table before you in familiar handwriting, clearly prepared ahead of time

My angel,

Seek me out tonight if you wish, I will not push. I will be in the back of the library awaiting you with great anticipation. I promise that with me you will live a very happy life and want for nothing. I am not as frightening as I may seem, I am merely afraid, and I will tell you all about it tonight if you come find me. Then perhaps I may hold you by the fire as I dream of if you’ll allow it. To me, you are precious, so I am willing to go slow. If I have made you uncomfortable, I will stop correspondence with you after tonight, but my heart will never leave you.

Yours,

Tom Riddle

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo Merry Christmas xoxoxo

[m3vl0vesu]

~

A/N: Soooo hi. I’m alive!! Anyway this is a oneshot(?) about…idrk but you’ve lost most of your memories and Nayvee was your hero name/what people used to call you. I started writing it at exactly 9pm on the 26th of december. Also reading back on my old writing, people liked that? Anyways, enjoy!! Tw angst and mentions of scars, mentions of abuse, nothing to gritty :) Gender neutral reader and racially ambiguous ;) oh and don't copy plwase

Every window was slightly open, just enough to make the whole apartment cold. There was even a cold mist from under the door, hitting the sides of your arms. It stung. So cold you could almost see your cats slow breaths, well it was really a random stray but with so little to call yours why not hang on to a silly kitty?

The only bit of warmth was the cigarette in your hand, the small thing filled up your lungs. Made your heart beat with guilt and longing, it felt so good. Good but so bad. It was the only light in your life, the burning cigarette butt and the flame used to light it. It was a pathetic life, but it was yours. A person behind the screen, fixing other people's problems and slip ups, an eraser that’s what you were. Erasing people's lives just as people erased yours. Every impact, every solution, every person saved and every person killed because of you, gone. Like it was completely nothing, like every scar on your back and every scar on your arms were worth nothing. A body full of stories but stories that shall sadly never be heard. It was almost peaceful, it’s not like you really wanted to remember anyway, but the option would’ve been nice. 

It hurts your head. It always hurts, filled with constant screams and pleads of help. Words of anger and authority, that one you did remember. You remembered all of it, down to the slurred praise and constant cussing. A voice that had been whispering to you since you were all but an embryo, a voice that you watched fade. Here it became rougher with every puff, every packet seemed to be gone within days. 

No wonder, now you understand. All that begging and crying just to wound up enjoying the same cruel substances.

Your peaceful tappink of keys was sadly interrupted. It was almost routinely, the pixels on your laptop would display 23:25 and you would hear it. The squeaking of the window in the kitchen, and then a heavy thud followed after. It would bring in a large gush of wind, and the rotten smell of gotham roads, made it all the better to have a cigarette in between your lips. Soon you’d hear a man, the man. The man with the heavy kevlar suit and the cape. Oh you hated that cape, the way it sounded when it dragged across your kitchen tiles made you want to scratch your eyes out. Every footstep closer towards you felt like a warning, like a threat. His whole presence towards you was a threat, one step out of line, one sentence dubbed too insane and you're done. Everything stripped away as quick as your memory was.

“Well you're as punctual as ever, aren’t you Bruce?” It felt wrong, just uttering his name like you knew him.

Maybe Nayvee knew him, but you? This fucked up version of you? No recollection of this man, not even of his public persona. You only knew the Dark Knight, and not the one that saved babies from some underground crime, no. You knew the one that would stand over a suffering body and not give them the pleasure of death, he taunted you waiting for it. Waiting for the ticking bomb to finally explode. It felt like he was just visiting to find a reason to get rid of you. It was always the guessing game with this man. Then again he was the only one of your so-called friends to visit. 

“...” and it was nothing from him. Just brooding silence and the occasional huff and sigh. He was different today, less tense. His fists were less clenched and his shoulders less tense, it wasn’t a scowl or a watchful eye-not that you could see his eyes- on his face but it was just a neutral expression. Or more of a neutral feeling, that cowl sure did its job.

“Good day today, B? No crime I’m guessing or-”

“There’s always crime in Gotham.” Well no shit. He knew what you meant, or maybe he didn’t. Maybe his armour is just as thick as his skull, at least there was a response this time. “Also don’t call me Bruce.”

“...right, sorry. B, can I call you B? I’ll call you, B.” Right. Another line, another step back. It felt like you were always so far from this man in front of you. It was like torture, the constant silence and the constant interrogation. The past was gone, so why is he trying, almost desperately, to get you to remember something? There was nothing, nothing to do but to turn right to the blinding screen and puff out smoke from your blackened lungs. Lonely. You’d have to be so desperate to expect anything but silence from Gotham’s Ghost. Brucie Wayne was a complete opposite from this shell of a man below you. Yes below, for some reason he’s kneeling on his knees, looking up at the mental mess you were. Smudged day old makeup and hair that not even the greatest hairstylist could fix, and he’s looking at it. There’s something in his eyes, something that you’ve seen before. Is it anger? Is it guilt, longingness, or is it disgust?

Probably the latter.

“God…” What? God what? Why does his voice sound like that, why was he even here? There is nothing in this apartment of worth, and definitely not to him. He had no need for money, he’s the richest fool in New Jersey. There’s no evidence of whatever you committed or any incriminating documents, he’s already checked. Not even a gun in this useless place. So ‘God’ what? “You’ve never looked so much like your Father.” 

Even though it was cruel, it was true. The heavy purple-ish eyebags digging into your skin, the empty eyes full of nothing but the reflection of work. The cigarette being the only other things that your attention is on and the empty beer bottles behind the sofa. It was like watching a scene from forty-something years ago. The runaway child becoming the very thing they hated, a tale as old as time. A tale that is only seen in fragments, very violent fragments.

.

.

.

“Shut up.” He can’t just say that. That’s not something-someone he should know. And it’s evident on his face, the way he immediately goes back to that infuriating mask. Don’t shut up, say more. Tell me more, please. “Please.” Stop making me feel like this.

“I…I am sorry.” 

“For what, Bruce just-” no, desperation was a big no no. Sadness? No. You were over it, it didn’t matter anymore. “You know what? A drink is good, I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want a drink? I’ll get you a drink.” it was the rambling, made you seem insane. But so what? So what if it was rude not to wait for an answer, there was no one to beat the manners, into you was there? As you got out of the chair it felt like your body was going to give out. It was all too much, what was too much?

Nothing.

The nothingness, no laughter, no embracing, no happy glimpses, no it was just nothing. One step towards him felt like a step towards an edge. In both situations gravity was not on your side. The black bat displayed across his chest blurred, as did everything around you. The headache was no longer there, just warm hands and a heartbeat. A racing heartbeat.

You hope it isn’t yours. Hope the warmth is deaths hand embracing you, or hell getting prepared for it’s newest guest.

[pearlv1ne]

I just finished all of Kai's FTEs and I really wanted to add to this, cause I truly belive he has some strong trans coding going on

First of all, his name! Before coming out, many trans people come up with a kinda gender neutral nickname for themselfs as a way to feel more comfortable. If they're from transphobic community/family, it also helps to hide their actual identity while not really having to use their deadname.

You cannot tell me that the name "Kai" couldn't totally act as this kind of nickname!! Its very gender neutral and it could be a diminutive for many feminine given names. It was also pretty popular back in the 2020-2021 era, mostly within trans community. If we assume p:eg takes place in 2023, this would be the time Kai started his media presence.

But that's not all! While I was watching Kai's FTEs, I noticed this one perticual line:

For context, he's talking about taking a social media-related job after his own profile started gaining traction. It happened a year ago, and Kai is now 18 - which means he was 17 when he took the job.

My question is, why a 17 y/o is struggling to pay rent? Why a teenager is paying rent AT ALL? That's pretty much still a child. He's not even old enough to drink yet. Shouldn't he live with his parents?

The answer is simple - his parents kicked him out.

This is all speculation on my part, but what if Kai's parents kicked him out after he came out as trans? It would tie well with my nickname theory. In his 4th FTE he also talks about how he doesn't really have any friends besides his followers.

But Kai USED TO have friends - he says it in his second FTE. So hear me out. Let's say Kai comes from a very transphobic community. To cope with dysphoria and hatred towards others like him he starts a social media profile, using his chosen name. He posts edited photos of himself, trying to appear more masculine, all of that stuff - but then, something happens and his family and friends find out about his identity. His parents kick him out, and his friends stop associating with him.

Doesn't that sheeds a whole new light at his previous words? "They're always telling me to keep [...] beging myself... Even though they don't have too... Even though they could stop at any moment... they're still here, despite everything". LIKE, COME ON. THAT'S SOME HEAVY CODING IF I EVER SEEN ONE.

Speaking of coding, Kai actually says A LOT of things during his FTE that could be read as trans allegory. This one specificaly stuck out to me:

"... But beging incognito wasn't even my choice." HELLO???? AM I GOING CRAZY????

It might be just me reading to much into things, but I geniuenly think that Transmasc Kai headcanon makes sooooo much sense!! I already love him as he is ( chapter one only made my appreciation for him grow) and I think making him canonically transmasc would add so much layer to his character. Its also not that unlikely, since Kaimon is semi-canon at this point lmao

Anyway, if Kai ever gets comfirmed as canon trans, don't forget that I and op called it !

why do I have an inkling that kai monteago might be trans.......... Like I don't have any substantial proof (only chapter 1 is out right neow duh) but it's just a feeling

I mean butterflies are a common symbol for transformation right? It just so happens to be his motif, a pink butterfly being sewn onto the left side of his sweater (where his heart is). Also in the beach designs, he's covering his chest too

Even in this official art (Desmond and wenona look so FINE but that's not the main focus here) Kai is basically fully covered. I'm pretty sure swimming binders do exist, so I wouldn't be surprised if that's why he doesn't reveal his bare chest like most of the male cast.

I mean, its also possible it ties into him as a person. He begun as an influencer by posting edited photos of himself. He's definitely not as confident as he makes himself out to be.

Anyway transmasc Kai canon trust I'm actually the apple Damon's holding in the trailer

[emsprovisions]

❄️ Day 24 - A Very Royal Christmas ❄️

🎁 Today’s fic is dedicated to the Tarlos Fandom 💕

Summary: A modern-day prince au where TK and Carlos were childhood friends, who have become estranged until now.

Word count: 1244

Dear Tarlos fandom,

We have reached the final day! I have had so much fun crafting these stories to post each day and I love seeing all your reactions to being gifted a fic and just all your sweet encouragement in general. You have all been so wonderful and welcoming to me and I see how kind you are to each other as well. I feel so lucky to be in such an amazing online community with so many other kind people who love tarlos. I am so grateful for the friends I’ve made this year because of this show. You all made 2024 a much better year than it would’ve been for me, and for that, I want to say thank you. Happy holidays, everyone!

With love, Emily

24 Days of Tarlos Masterpost

Prince Carlos has been staring at Prince TK all night at the winter ball, hoping he just might catch the eligible bachelor all by himself.

Carlos just wants a moment of the prince’s attention for a dance. Just a simple dance. TK is the crown prince of his country, and while Carlos isn’t next in line for the throne of his own country, he would be remiss to assume TK would ever spare a second glance at him.

He hasn’t since they were kids anyways. 

They used to be best friends, the two young princes were inseparable as playmates when they were children. Now however, one would think they hated each other for the lengths they’d go to avoid one another at functions such as these. 

Carlos doesn’t really understand where it all went wrong. One day, TK was his best friend, and the next day, he wasn’t. 

The prince in question is currently laughing with a few dukes and duchesses, picking a canapé off a passing tray. Carlos watches him from where he stands with Lady Iris, one of his other longest friends. 

“Stop staring, your highness,” Iris teases. “You might burn a hole right through him.”

Carlos rolls his eyes, grabbing a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray and turning to his friend. “I’m not staring,” the prince insists. “I’m trying to find my nerve.”

“Your nerve?” Iris raises an eyebrow at him.

“You know,” Carlos glances around to ensure no one is listening to their conversation before he hisses, “to ask him to dance.”

That makes Iris raise another eyebrow at him. “You’re going to ask the prince to dance?”

“Shh!” Carlos’s eyes widen. “Not so loud.”

“Oh my god, Carlos,” Iris grabs Carlos by the sleeve and drags him to a quieter area of the ballroom. “You are grown and acting like a child. TK doesn’t want to be your friend, he’s made that very clear. You need to get over your schoolboy crush on him and move on.”

“I deserve to know why he hates me,” Carlos huffs. “It’s been ten years and he’s still ignoring me. He can’t ignore me here.”

Iris just shakes her head, raising one of her hands. “You know what, I can’t watch this trainwreck. You are my best friend, I can’t watch you make a fool of yourself over a boy.”

Carlos rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to make a fool of myself. It’s a winter ball, you’re expected to dance with people, even if you don’t like them.”

Iris’s eyes only widen and she stares at Carlos like he’s grown two heads. 

“What?” Carlos scowls. 

It’s only then Carlos realizes Iris is actually staring at a point over his shoulder. He whirls around and comes face to face with Prince TK himself. 

“Oh, your highness, I didn’t see you there…” Carlos stares into bright, green eyes he’s been in love with as long for as he can remember.

TK just smiles at him, all suave and charismatic. “Prince Carlos,” he says, holding up a hand. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

Carlos stares at TK, stunned, he glances backwards at Iris who shoos at him with wide eyes. “Um, sure, yeah.”

TK leads Carlos out onto the dance floor before pulling him in by the waist and beginning to lead. Carlos’s own hand settles at TK’s elbow as their remaining hands clasp together. It’s the closest Carlos has been to TK in years and it’s making his head spin in a way neither the champagne or dancing ever could.

“I heard of your father’s passing earlier this year, I’m so sorry, Carlos,” TK says softly.

Carlos furrows his brows. “Thank you, but is this just a pity dance?”

TK’s eyes snap back to Carlos’s. “Is that what you think of me?”

“I don’t know what to think of you, TK,” Carlos shakes his head. “You’ve refused to speak to me for years when we used to share everything.”

 “I didn’t cut you out,” TK looks away sheepishly. “I ran away.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carlos huffs.

“Look, you have every right to be pissed,” TK shakes his head. “You have every right to hate me. But it wasn’t until your coming out story this year that I thought…”

“Thought what??”

TK’s gaze finds Carlos’s once more as he softly says, “That I might have a chance with you.”

Now Carlos is even more confused. He’d always known TK is gay. He wasn’t shy about admitting it, unlike Carlos, who always kept that part of himself locked up tight. This year, he felt brave enough to come out on his own accord, because he was tired of the endless marriage proposals and requests from advisors for him to find a nice girl to marry. People get antsy when a handsome prince nears his thirties without a ring on his finger, evidently.

Carlos stares back at TK. “I still don’t understand.”

“Carlos,” TK smiles at the prince sadly. “I’ve been in love with you forever, and I never thought you could even possibly like me back. So I ran. It wasn’t right, and I hate that I lost such an important friendship over it, but I was terrified of losing you regardless.”

“So you made the choice for me.”

“I made the choice for you,” TK agrees.

Carlos glances around the noisy, crowded ballroom. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

TK nods and leads Carlos from the dance floor and towards a quiet balcony that overlooks the grounds, beautifully lit up with Christmas lights over all the shrubbery in the gardens.

“Wow, it’s beautiful out here,” Carlos remarks as he leans up against a stone railing. It’s cold, but he’s warm from the drinks, and dancing, and the man beside him.

TK leans against the railing next to him, head turned to look at Carlos. “It sure is,” he murmurs softly.

Carlos catches TK’s gaze and shakes his head. “You’re impossible, you know.”

“I wouldn’t deserve you.”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” Carlos finds himself admitting.

It’s TK’s turn to stare at Carlos in shock. “Come again?”

“It’s true,” Carlos shakes his head with a soft little smile. “Maybe I’m crazy, but even though you walked out of my life, I’ve still thought about you. I’ve never been able to get you out of my head.”

“What does that mean, Carlos?” TK shakes his head, staring at Carlos.

Carlos thought he needed to be brave to ask TK to dance, but the real show of courage comes from this moment. 

“It means, I’d like to kiss you, your highness,” he grins, biting his bottom lip to try and contain his smile. He takes a tentative step forward. “And I hope you might allow me to.”

TK’s eyes dazzle from the glow of the moonlight and the Christmas lights all around. He nods, stepping into Carlos and circling his arms around his neck. “You’re really giving me a chance after all I’ve done to you?”

“I really am.”

The kiss is pure magic, like something out of a movie, as Carlos presses his lips to TK’s. Butterflies dance in the prince’s stomach as he pulls the other prince ever closer, wondering if he’s possibly crazy. He’s unsure how this will even work, or where they’ll go from here, but Carlos decides to be brave anyway. Despite it all, he just can’t let TK go.

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter warmers day 25: Holiday alone time. No pairing. A bit of Max&GP. About 1.2k words.

Max sits down on the carpet, back against the couch, setting his glass of gin tonic down beside him.

The house is quiet, and he closes his eyes, letting his head fall back right beside where Sassy is curled up, listening to her breathing.

It's weird to be alone at Christmas.

He can't remember it ever happening before. Even in the worst years, when money was tight and home wasn't always a happy place, he was never alone.

It's not that he lacked invitations. His mom had called several times telling him to go, and Victoria had invited him too. Even some of his friends had reached out, telling him about their plans, asking him to join. But for the first time, all Max wanted for Christmas was silence.

He had plans lined up for the weeks after new years, and for the months after that, but the idea of having to be Max Verstappen for one more minute had been unbearable.

So he had told everyone he was busy, he had plans, he was fine, and then he had closed himself in his house and had let his brain go quiet.

He shifts slightly, moving his head closer to Sassy, nuzzling her side with his nose until she chirps at him, curling away.

"Just you and I, Sassy girl," he murmurs, attempting to kiss her paw and failing, only succeeding in making her shift further away. Somewhere in the kitchen, he hears Jimmy hops down from a chair, never one to be left out.

When he had told Victoria his plans for the holidays, she had asked him if he was having a midlife crisis too early, which is a stupid thing to say, because you never know when the middle of your life is. And also, Max is not having a crisis.

He's just...tired.

He had thought that retirement would mean finally having time to himself, but so far, two full weeks into it, this was the first day he had felt like he could leave his phone on the table and not having to check it. The first day he had nothing on his schedule. No meetings, no sponsor dinners, no videos to film, no streams to entertain.

Just him, his drink, and his cats.

He lets his eyes fall closed, a hand instinctively going to cover his glass, because Jimmy is always sticking his nose where he shouldn't.

He knows sitting on the floor is not the smartest choice, he can feel a twinge in his lower back already, but the carpet feels nice under his fingers, and he doesn't feel like getting up.

Jimmy's wet nose bumps against his wrist, nosing along the rim of the glass, and Max chuckles, opening one eye to look down at him, predictably finding him trying to get into his gin tonic.

"That's not for kittens," he chides softly, pushing him away and then dragging him close with his free hand. Jimmy, contrary to what Sassy would have done, lets himself be moved around and placed in his lap, already purring.

For a while, they just stay like that. Sassy breathing, Jimmy purring and Max just listening. Quiet.

Then Max's phone chimes once, making him jump.

He doesn't want to check it. He doesn't want to have to be a person again, even if just for the time it would take to answer a text, but he reaches for it anyway, the worry that it could be something important gnawing at him.

Should I be worried about you?

Max frowns, looking at the text from GP. No hellos, no how are yous, just that puzzling question. Their last conversation had been about the red bull Christmas party, about taking a car together.

No?

His phone immediately pings again, as if GP had been waiting for him to answer.

I heard you're hiding and the Max I know doesn't hide. So, should I be worried?

Who the fuck has been snitching to GP?

I am not hiding I am having some well earned alone time. I am perfectly fine.

He sends it before he can think too hard about it, not wanting to question if it's the whole truth. He is fine. There is nothing physically wrong with him, and he is content, sitting here with his cats. The fact that he also feels weirdly lost and exhausted doesn't change the fact that he is fine.

Do you want to come here?

That doesn't require much thinking. He's spent time with GP's family before, and they're lovely, but if he had wanted to spend time with people he would have gone home.

No thank you.

I can be in Monaco tomorrow.

Max pauses, fingers hesitating before he can type his refusal. He doesn't need anyone to come over. He's fine. And he still doesn't feel like having to be Max Verstappen, doesn't have the energy for it.

But GP is different. GP never made him feel like he should be anyone other than himself. And GP can be quiet, quiet enough to let Max's brain be silent too.

Are you bored of retirement already?

It's not a yes, or a no, but Max hopes that GP will figure it out anyway.

I'll be there for lunch. You can call me if you need anything.

GP always does.

Max drops his phone again to take a sip of his gin tonic, the ice melting in it already, then turning to try and nuzzle Sassy again.

In the safe space of his silent house he is finally able to admit to himself that maybe, just maybe, he isn't absolutely fine. He feels lost, like for the first time in his life he doesn't know what his next step is, and he feels tired, like his whole racing career caught up with him all at once.

But that's okay. GP will be here tomorrow, and he will sort him out. Because he always does.

[ink-stainedkiss]

This isn't necessarily a request (unless you like the idea😍) but i am WEAK for saiki kusuo being happy and laughing, as ooc as it sounds IDC HES MY BABY AND HES HUMAN THEREOFRE I CONCLUDE THIS BOY CAN HAVE HIS DAILY DOSE OF GIGGLES.

Like, i read the fic you made on saiki finding readers thoughts funny, and i BAJDJSJAJDBS I SQUEALED.

Just imagining him breaking character, or AUDIBLY laughing, is so so sweet bro im not even joking. He'd only ever be comfortable doing it infront of his mom probably, or his close friends. EVEN SO.

Just needed to get it off my chest. 🙂 if you ever make more fics with happy/giggly saiki i might actually marry you. 🙂🙂🙂

This one goes specifically to you queen😍 and No. I’m going to marry you🫵😼

Missing You

Synopsis: Saiki starts to feel a bit weird when you are out and he realizes he misses you. Now to find a way to get you home faster…

Merry Christmas for those who celebrate! I hope you all had a great time because I sure did. Sorry my activity has been a little slow these past days have been busier than expected, so this one’s going to be a bit short. Also thank you all for the likes on my later posts! It feels so amazing to see you guys enjoying my other works. Anyways, please enjoy this tooth-rotting fluff of our beloved Saiki💕

“You on the phone”

“Saiki on the phone”

*Saiki is wearing his telepathy blocking ring in this, so he's speaking normally*

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.2k

Everyone knew that Saiki was not a dependent person. He was the furthest thing from it. He loved his alone time- actually scratch that. He craved alone time. It was just his luck that he was always surrounded by people that caused him so much mental pain. To Saiki’s surprise, he had found someone he tolerated. Well it was more than that, but you guys were just friends, so he couldn’t say anything. He realized you were the only one that didn’t put Saiki through a problem which he had to solve. There were no long adventures when you talked to him in the halls. No using his powers to fix something you had done. He was able to act perfectly normal around you. Which is why he grew such an affection toward you. He grew so comfortable that he told you about his abilities and like he expected you took it well.

Today was one of his favorite days. Where he was able to hang around your home without a care in the world. Whatever his friends were up to outside of your house was not Saiki’s business, nor did he care about it. He had developed a routine when you text him to come over. He would arrive at your house, wear his germanium ring and let his worries wash away. It was the closest thing he could get to being a normal teenager and he was damn sure going to use his time wisely. Whenever Saiki stayed at your home, you would ask to do something, nothing crazy. Something simple like baking a batch of cookies, watching a movie on the couch, or if you were very bored, you would ask to do Saiki’s hair, which he never denied. Because, well, it was you. How could he say no?

Today was a bit different. You had mentioned you needed to run some errands and you promised you would back around noon. Saiki was fine with this since it meant he would have the house to himself. You trusted him greatly so you didn’t mind if he stuck around while you were out. When you left he gave a small nod and then the house was silent. Today was very different because something felt off. He had been reading a book on your shelf out of interest, but for the past five minutes, he had been rereading the same sentence over and over. Something was tugging in his head, but he wasn’t sure what was wrong.

Today was different because he felt so off without you in the same room as him. He checked the clock, realizing I had only been an hour and a half since you left. You wouldn’t be back until later, so Saiki had to find something to distract himself. Today was different because tried to cure his “boredom” with his powers. He turned on your kitchen sink, watching blankly as he made shapes and animals out of the liquid. When that didn’t stop the tugging, he moved onto your room. He felt slightly better resting on your bed and he played it off as being tired, but no. When he kept checking the clock to see if it was any closer to noon, he came to the horrifying conclusion that he missed you.

It was such a foreign feeling. Saiki? Wanting someone to be around him? Well that’s what happens when you sneak your way into his heart. The psychic couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed his phone, clicking on your contact and placing the device to his ear. The small buzzing reached his ear and he felt a small fragment of relief when you answered after the second ring.

“Hey Saiki, what’s up?”

He sighed, a bit humiliated he felt this way.

“Nothing.”

“Then did you need something?”

“When are you going to be home?”

He said home like he lived here with you, but if you minded, you didn’t make it obvious.

“I should be there in maybe three hours.”

That did not help.

“Can you get here sooner?”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“Yes.”

Might as well since there isn’t anything else getting you here faster. Saiki thought.

A small gasp sounded through the speaker, “I thought you said nothing was happening?”

“Just get here fast.”

And with that he hung up the phone.

—

You raced to your house, hoping you wouldn’t find it in ashes or hit by a tornado. Maybe you were being dramatic, but why would Saiki call you and tell you to come home quickly? It was shocking that you didn’t get pulled over at the pace you were driving home. When you pulled onto your street, you were thankful to not see any smoke, but that didn’t make you slow down. You slammed to a stop in your driveway, panic flooding your veins. You unlocked your door at lightning speed and the second it was open, you called out,”I’m here! What happened?!”

You shut the door behind you, scanning for some sort of danger, but you find your house was still intact. You were so confused. You were expecting some sort of freak accident with Saiki’s powers, but everything was in place.

“Nothing wrong.”

You whipped around, finding Saiki had teleported behind you. You blinked in confusion,”What are you talking about? You told me to get here quick and I-“ “I lied.” Your arms dropped at your side in defeat,”Then why am I here right now?” He gave you an emotionless stare,”Because I wanted you to be.”

Still in shock, you looked around, finding a scattered book on your couch. It was odd because Saiki is always the one to be neat. You turned to the boy, noticing how he was hardly making eye contact with you and he clearly wanted to say more. You recalled his words over the phone, then it all clicked.

“Saiki,” your words were barely above a whisper,”Did you miss me?”

The things that happened next were a blur. In the blink of an eye two arms were wrapping around you and you could feel Saiki’s head in the crook of your neck. He didn’t respond to your question, but this was enough to answer it. Honestly, you were a bit nervous. Was this really the same Saiki? The one who barely let people stand close to him, was holding onto you like a lifeline. You felt a long sigh escape his lips and instinctively you reached one hand up to rest in his pink hair and the other embracing him over his shoulder.

“I didn’t know how else to get you here.” He confessed gently, making your heart melt,”You could have just asked, Kusuo.” He tucked himself more into your neck, almost hiding his face from you,”But you were busy.” You rolled your eyes, “It was just getting groceries, I would have dropped everything if I knew you wanted me here.”

Saiki didn’t know how to respond, instead he used his teleportation to take you both to your room. You let out a grunt as you back hit your mattress, but your attention changed to the boy resting on you. He looked so at peace and you couldn’t believe this was still the same person. (It’s not like you were complaining.) As you softly played with his pink hair, a small idea popped into your head. Maybe I should go out more often if this is what I get to come home too…

[just-zy]

Some life she hoped

pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem Reader!

summary: Meeting again after so long wasn't really on your bucket list, neither did you receiving an apology.

A/N: Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! I apologize for the inactivity, I've been losing motivation on writing lately and ik this doesn't make up for it but I hope it does something to you 😞, the imagines are rotting in my drafts. Anyways, cheers to another year!

Warnings!: kind of angsty, mostly.. but that's about it!

Masterlist

There was always this nagging feeling keeping me from loving again, these past months I've been feeling nothing but grief. What once was love I couldn't stop giving, turned into something I threw all away after finally leaving my first love.

A year passed by and still, I would look for her at places I hoped she'd be in, for a mere coincidence I might get a glimpse of her, somehow, some way I wish I did. But then, I met Naveen, in a way our love felt so different. She wanted me to be hers, I gave her a chance, more than a few. It all felt like it wouldn't work out, but this last chance I gave her, I held on for dear life for it to actually be true. But it all felt like I was toying with myself more than I do her.

So I let her go, not for me, but for Naveen to find someone more worthy of her love.

.

A place I didn't hope to see her, but there she was, looking flawless as ever. How she looked under the night's gaze, and the stars reflecting on her eyes.

"Y/N?"

Jenna.

"What are you doing here?"

The same reason why you're here.

"Why can't I be? Better yet, what are you doing here?" I chuckled lightly while I felt my heart ache in a bittersweet dream.

She huffs, "I don't know, I just had the idea to... chill here for a bit and dip."

This place, a view of the beach while we're up on a hill with a singular bench. This was where we used to hide away from everyone, from the cruel world.

I quietly made my way towards her, "Mind if I?", she scoots a little further, I sat down with my hands on my pockets.

Winter was our favourite season, we loved watching the beach while listening to the waves and spouting out nonsense. A part of me hoped we didn't end the way we did, I had so much more to tell her that I can't speak about now.

"How are you?" She quips while still having her sight on the beach. I blew out the breath I didn't know I was holding. "I'm good, all's well. How about you?"

"He broke up with me."

He was no good for you anyways.

"How are you holding up?" I cautiously asked while I started rubbing my hands together, it was getting too cold. "I realized, I really needed this, even when we were together it all just felt too suffocating. I didn't need him anyway."

Then why did you disregard me for him just like that?

I hummed with a disdain. But she doesn't need to know that.

"That's good, knowing you're finally... freeing yourself—"

"I'm sorry, Y/N."

I—

"I know what I did to you was wrong, so wrong but I still did it anyway. I wasn't the perfect girlfriend for you, and I know you knew that too."

But, I needed you the most. I wish you at least had the time to think about me, about us. The moment you let go of me, a piece of my heart shattered with you.

"You know, I really meant when I said I hoped we were together in another life. I wish I was better for you there, when then wasn't enough, I hope it's more than enough all the way on a multiverse."

...

I walked mindlessly in the library my friend worked in, I heard footsteps making it's way to my direction, I glance to my right, getting a good look at River, "Did you know? NASA actually finds out that there's more than just one world? I mean- there's this multiverse that's living like us but, in reverse, do you get it?" She looked really excited to share the story with me, and of course it caught my attention.

I chuckled at the thought, walking back to Jenna's place. I walked up to her door and gently knocked. With a click and a swift open of the door, there Jenna stood on her pajamas.

"I have a fact you might like to know."

She giggles at the story I had just told her, "Well if that were true, I hope we lived together in a mansion with millions of animals."

...

"Y- Yeah.."

Tucking my hair, my breathing went rigid as it suddenly felt too hot for me to think. I got up, bidding Jenna a good night's rest.

"Y/N– I... I hope you're doing okay."

I didn't dare spare her another glance. I knew I had moved on from her, but why is it that whenever I think about her, it all feels so heavy?

If I hadn't met you, I probably would have had more love to give.

A/N: this was shit but okay ig, I hope y'all enjoyed this more than I did. I did this in one sitting, so ik it's bad.

[goldentigerfestival]

So. I love this. The way Yuri snickers at Flynn showing his real self. The way he, without hesitation, says "yeah" to the idea that he would die in Flynn's place.

But the most important part of this entire thing, which was changed in the dub, is how Yuri specifically jokes that Flynn is trying to abandon him, and Flynn returns and tells Don he had no intention of abandoning Yuri.

Yuri does not hear this. Flynn knows that. But Flynn uses the exact same term Yuri used earlier, as if it's his answer to Yuri and saying no, I would never abandon you.

For reference:

Personally I just... love the weight of it. How Flynn will say something about Yuri that Yuri won't hear, but he still speaks it out into existence because it's how he really feels.

Just because Yuri won't hear it doesn't mean he won't say it, and in a way that's even more powerful. He's not looking for the credit of saying it. He's not looking to be recognized for saying it. He's not only expressing how he feels about Yuri somewhere that Yuri himself will hear him.

They're just his real, honest feelings, and he'll admit them even if Yuri's not within earshot.

[spaghett-onaplate]

depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed

[justagaymoth]

It's out

I'm not finished but here it is so far

I don’t want a man or anybody I just need a warm body to hold. I don't want love of any kind. I don’t even love my friends its not like a hate them. I just don't love very often. That doesn't mean the people I love are any special. The main person I love is not “the one” whatever that means. If they were, it would be incsest. The only person I truly love constantly is my sister. This is not to say i dont care about humanity or the people in my life i just dont love them. I dont feel anything in my heart for them. Not my parents, not my friends, not the guys that ask me out because i'm pretty. I hate it when anyone says they love me because i can't love them back no matter how badly i want to. The guilt and disgust I feel when I hear the word love aimed at me like a missile that could kill a hundred men or more.

My life is pretty okay right now. Im in my first month of my semester of college and three boys have asked me out and two have asked me to parties. I like to think they asked me out because of my smart and witty comments in class but in reality its because of my face and boobs. I hate collage boys. Well most of them one is pretty alright he is in my biology 101 a first noticed him when I accidentally saw his test score on a pop quiz. I just happened to be looking that way. I was staring day dreaming about my sci fi fantasy world i've been thinking about since I was 5. The main thing that pushed me to try so hard to learn to read was that world. I needed to write it down and publish it one day. Maybe some other bullied kids would find as much comfort in that world as me. Anyways he was one of three people who didn't get a D or below on that test and this girl I didn't know were the only ones who got a decent grade.The third person who got a decent grade was me.I know this because everyone else growed or looked very sad or angry. The girl was so excited she passes she let out a tiny shriek. He got an A+ I got an A.

“Congratulations on your grade, that was a difficult quiz,” was the first thing I ever said to him.

“Thanks, hopefully you didn't do too bad.” I chuckled. I still don't know why I did that.

“I got an A. I figured I would get a B or C,” I said i was surprised i told him that last part.

“Why would you suspect a C you always make amazing comments in class. Sometimes it seems you know more than our professor.”

“You notice what i say in class? I thought no one payed attention to the professor much less me." Wait, I didn't mean to say that out loud.

“Sometimes your comments in class teach me more than Professor Browns,” he chuckled after he said that. His chuckles are like music. I don't love him. Don't get this twisted, this is not a love story. And this is definitely not one of those love stories that says that it's not a love story in the beginning of the movie but by the end they are in love.there was a short pause then he spoke again.

“I forgot to tell you my name, I'm Bayley but my friends call me Bark. I have a feeling we will be friends,” after he said that he grabbed my purple pen and started writing something a the straw rapper from his pesi. “Here is my number. I need more smart friends,” he said smiling and handed me his straw rapper.

“My name is Sophia but I hate my name so call me whatever you like.”

“Well I better get to my next class bye So-” he stopped himself from saying Sophia and just waved and smiled.

I kinda hope I see Bayely again. Something about him

seem different from the other guys who gave me their numbers. I think I might actually message him. I hear a ringing sound from my phone it's a phone call from my sister.

“Hey Sophia, how are you? We haven't talked on the phone in so long. I apologize for that I've been busy with school.” I could not help but smile it makes me happy when my sister calls me. She is the only one who I actually don't mind calling me Sophia.

“Hey Emma, I'm doing pretty well. Speaking of school, another guy gave me his number.”

“Wow, isn't that like the 5th guy or something? Do you think you are gonna go out with him? Is he hot?”

“He is the first guy to give me his number and not ask me out I think he wants to be friends or something. He said he needs more smart friends. It's weird a guy wants to be my friend and doesn't see me as just a hot body.”

“So Sophia, do you think you are going to text him?”

“Yeah probably he has a rare combination of brains and being attractive. He actually made me chuckle I don't know how he did that.”

“Does someone have a crush?” She said that in a sing song voice she is clearly in her romance obsessed high school phase.

“No but if he asked to fuck i might say yes.” I probably shouldn't have said that. It's okay Emma is a senior in highschool. She lost her virginity last summer to her now ex girlfriend.

“College must be wild.”

“It's really not especially compared to high school which is probably for the best.”

“I have to go Sophia, I still have some homework.”

“Okay Emma if you need any help with your homework call me back cause I'm kinda a huge nerd.”

“Okay bye I love you sister”

“Love you too Emma” I mean it's true I love my sister and myself are the only ones I really love in this world.

I begin to type out “hi this is Sophia”. Remembering when Bayley was about to call me Sophia but stopped himself I really liked when he did that. I press send hoping he doesn't ask me out. A few minutes later I hear I ding from my phone. It's Bayley. “Hey this is Bayley. How are you?”

“I am okay just bored I finished my homework ages ago. How are you Bayley?”

“This is a weird question but can I call you?” Bayley texted

I didn't text him back, instead he called me himself.

“Hey Bayley, why did you want to call me?”

“I just want to be closer to you.” Oh fuck he wants me doesn't he?

“I'm sorry Bayley, I don't want to go out with you.”

“I don't want that either I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that I just really need someone to talk to it's getting boring. I hate being alone and I am not on good terms with my family. Oh shit I didn't mean to say the family stuff out loud. I literally just met you. I am just really awkward.”

“It's okay Bayley. I need people to talk to as well my friends from high school were shit I only have my sister and she is 2 years younger than me.”

“How old are you So-” he stopped himself from saying Sophia he remembers I don't like that name how sweet. I still don't love him.

“I'm 19. How about you?”

“I'm 20 I turn 21 in October. I don't know what I'm going to do and who I'm going to hang out with. All I know is I don't want to spend my birthday by myself.”

“What day is your birthday, Bayley?”

“It's October 20th”

“Okay,” I said looking up how many days till then on Google. It's 21 days till then. Woah I can't believe it's September 30th already.

“Do you want to hang out this weekend? There is an orchard right by my house where we can go there.” I asked hopefully he says yes. I really need something to do.

“Yeah that sounds fun. I mean how could it not you are witty and pretty.” I laughed loudly when he said that.

“Shit it's already 7:30. I need to eat dinner.” I feel a little sad to end our phone call.

“Alright bye So” he said it just like he was saying someone's name. I think I like So better than Sophia.

I hang out every weekend till his birthday. Those 21 days were some of the best of my life. I still don't want to date him or anything. However every time we hang out he gets hotter. I really want to fuck him but I don't want to ruin my only friendship I have. So I resit the urge to tell him how handsome he looks every time I see him. The more I see him the happier I feel. Hanging out with him is good for my mental health. I like his jokes. He has called me pretty a couple times so maybe calling him handsome wouldn't be so bad. It's not like it means I want to date him or anything.

My alarm rings at 9 am on October 20th. My first class starts at 10:30. The first thing I do after seeing that it's Bayely’s birthday is I texted him a message that reads “Happy birthday Bayley I've really enjoyed getting to know you. It's really nice to have something to do on the weekends besides homework, job and watching New Girl.” I could help but think Maybe I could do you sometime. Of course I didn't send that. I made him a card already and drew him. I'm not very good. It was the first thing I drew in a year. I was depressed so I stopped drawing a year ago and I just never started up again. I might as well start now. Anyways the card has two paragraphs in it describing how I felt on our adventures with him. We have been hanging out every weekend for the past 3 weeks and we have coffee and do our homework for our biology 101 and help each other.

He's leaned his head on my shoulder a few times it usually stays there for hours. It's like my shoulder is the place his head has been searching for all his life. What am I even saying? I really should be in love when I'm with him I feel happy but not in love. When he puts his head on my shoulder my stomach settles. I feel so relaxed I feel like falling asleep. That's not how I felt when I was in love at age 16. I felt energized and my heart would swell up and fly. I don't feel that way with him. I don't know if this is what people feel for their friends because I don't remember the last time I loved any of my friends at the time. I just feel comfortable, happy and horny when I'm with him. I don't know if this is love. I don't want to date him because that would be a change. I like how it is now. The only change I want is for me to fuck him.

My phone rings. It's 20 minutes till my class. I'm driving there now. My phone is hooked up to the speakers I'm playing She And Him. Zoe Dechanel is so amazing. Sometimes I think I'm in love with her but that's not how it works. She is a celebrity. I don't think I've ever been this excited for biology 101. I really like science but that's not why I'm happy. Augh I'm so fucking horny right now. I'm also nervous because I sorta wrote that fact on the card. I don't remember everything I wrote because if I memorized it I would not give it to him. I'm so afraid I'm going to ruin his birthday with this card. I want him to have the best birthday possibly. If he wants to I plan to take him to his favorite coffee shop this weekend and then my house if he wants. I have so many things to show him at my house. I don't want to ruin what I have with him. I don't really want friends besides the casual ones I see once a month for science club. I just feel overwhelmed with too many friends and too many people. I don't know.

Oh shit I'm in the class he is standing next to me. We both arrived 30 or so minutes early to make sure we could review the notes we took yesterday. He is just standing there with A huge smile on his face. Shit he sees the card.

“Uh happy birthday. I made you a stupid card and I'm not very good at writing or drawing. I mean not when it comes to non science stuff. Well…” I say awkwardly.

“I can't believe you remembered!” He says excitedly opening the card. I want to disappear. This is so embarrassing. I just stand there staring at him. After what feels like hours but can't be more than 5 minutes. He hugs me. I'm still in shock. I feel nothing but fear.

“I love it. You are so pretty don't worry I don't want to date you either. I kept trying to give you hints that I wanted to sleep with you, this is the best way to tell me.” he whispers so quietly I can barely hear him. I've never heard him whisper and it's so hot. My weekend plans are so happening! I look to see if anyone is in the hallway when I see no one I kiss his check them whisper. “I have several birthday surprises planned for you this weekend.” He smiled in the hottest way possible. Not the same smile as when he was waiting for the card. I think he knows one of the surprises is sex he is clueless about the others.

I can't pay attention to the lecture today. I'm just thinking about sex and Bayley’s birthday. I can't stop replaying what just happened in my head. It was perfect. Maybe this wasn't so impossible afterall. I hope he doesn't find a girlfriend. I don't want to be his girlfriend but if he found one we could never talk. most people I talk to I don't want their partner to speak to someone they used to fuck or date. I hope this lasts longer than a few months like all the others. Most people don't want what I want or they do at first then they change their mind and I never speak to them or they call me when they get drunk or lonely. It's annoying.

I snap back into reality when the teacher asks me what is a difference between cells and animal cells.Thank god we were learning about something I already know today.

“Plant cells have cell walls which add an extra layer of protection. Plant cells also have Chloroplasts which play a major role in photosynthesis.”

“Thank you Sophia, see someone was paying attention.”

I quickly glance at Bayley. He is starting. I should probably help him review the slides this weekend. He is not paying attention just like me. The only difference is he is not going into science as a major.

update!!

I started writing a story about a loveless aromantic aplatonic allosexual nonbinary person. They met a guy named Bayely his nickname is Bark. they meet in a collage biology class and they don't fall in love or get into any type of relationship. They after a few months of being friends he develops sexual feelings for the main charter. and they become friends with benefits but the benefits are sex and cuddles. he has never cuddled anyone besides family because all of his romantic partners have just wanted him for his body. their story focusses on their abnormal friendship but its not a queer platonic relationship. eventually the main charter wants a kid and has the awkward conversation of asking Bark to help them explaining that he does not have to have a father role in the kids life if he does not want to. he says yes after a month of thinking it over he says he wants a more uncle like role in this kids life. after a year of sometimes helping out with this kid he wants a more fatherly role in this kids life. a few months later he moves in with the main charter to take care of the one year old. Bark and the main character have separate rooms they are pretty much friends with befits roommates who are raising a kid together. I have not written all of the story yet I only started writing it today I have 692 words so far. I got the idea for this story while daydreaming about what I want. I might call the main charter Soe (pronounced like the word so) as a shortened version of the charters birth name Sophia. Might post somewhere if anyone wants to read it when its finished comment or like this post if this sounds interesting to you

[icewindandboringhorror]

I have found a beautiful perfect humble rock specimen that is light yellow with a weird dark yellowy brown lining, somewhat resembling a chunk of smoked gouda cheese... effervescent

[itsalwaysdark]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[eternal-reverie]

got the posting anxiety bad tonight