#holy crap the boys are on fire

[spacedemodulator]

Queen Rock Montreal So. Damn. Hard. In. IMAX.

Seriously, if you’re any kind of Queen fan go see this right now. If you thought BoRhap was cool, go swim in the energy, charisma, and pure slutty rock pheromones of the real thing.

And by slutty rock pheromones I don’t just mean Freddie. All four of them are serving absolute c***.

[The man in this photo is five stories tall.]

[thirdchairfreshie]

OMG MY DREAM BANNER?? DIAMANT AND CITRINNE AND ALCRYST?? Finally they give us Engage and give me all but 1 of my fave Brodian characters like holy crap (though this prob means we wont get Jade for like 30 more years 😔)

Edit: also had to add in my excitement for zephia ghb like this banner was a reward just for me

[hoshifighting]

rockstar!reader x church boy & bestfriend!joshua

— Synopsis: Joshua and you had this contrast, you too embedded in the electric guitars, the polemic rock band shirts, and Joshua deeply focused on taking care of the church activities. He has no idea of the after-parties of your concerts, but after so much insistence of him, you bring Joshua to meet your wildest side, the side you never let him meet before. — Genre: Best friends to Lovers — WC: 11.05k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, slight angst, groupies showing tits references, alcohol, smoking and drug references, religious imagery—mention of a cross necklace, faith-based inner conflict. penetrative sex, rough sex, public make out, fingering, nipple play—reader have nipple piercings, face-slapping, mentions of boy fluids; cum/precum, cock riding, clit stimulation, dirty talk, post-sex care.

The neighborhood kids were a patchwork of personalities—there were the loud ones, the shy ones, the troublemakers, the saints. And then, there was you and Joshua. From the outside, it made no sense. You, the devil-may-care rebel with ripped jeans, always two seconds away from an argument with someone who couldn’t handle your attitude.

And Joshua, with his pristine shirts buttoned all the way up, soft-spoken voice, and the kind of calm that came from growing up in a house where every wall had a cross and every Sunday had a sermon. He was the kid who never missed a single morning of church, and you were the kid who never missed a single rehearsal with your rock band, banging out chords in your parents’ garage so loud the neighbors had to invest in better windows.

But here’s the thing: despite everything that set you apart, you were inseparable. You’d been friends since you were both knee-high, back when you didn’t even care about music or God or any of the other big things that defined you later. Joshua was the kid you trusted with everything. The one who’d patch up your scraped knees when you wiped out on your bike, even if you yelled at him for fussing too much. The one who never let you feel alone, even when the world felt like it was coming down around you.

You’d look at him sometimes—like now, when you two were sitting on the curb outside your house, him in one of those stiff, white shirts with the collar high enough to strangle someone, and you in your old, faded Black Sabbath tee—and wonder how the hell this worked.

“I don’t get why you always button that thing up like that,” you mutter, side-eyeing him as you light a cigarette.

Joshua looks over, raising a brow. “You sound like my mom,” he says, smirking. “Besides, it’s comfortable.”

“No way. You look like you’re ready to choke.”

“Yeah, well, you look like you’re ready to summon a demon or something in that shirt,” he fires back, glancing at the witch printed on the front of your tee. “You couldn’t find something uglier?”

You snort, blowing out a puff of smoke. “You’re just mad ‘cause you know Sabbath’s better than that crap you play.”

Joshua rolls his eyes. “Hey, I like Coldplay, alright? Not everything’s gotta be power chords and screaming.”

“I don’t scream,” you retort, half grinning.

“Yeah, you do.”

“Do not.”

“You screamed at the last gig.”

“That was—” You pause. “That was for effect.”

Joshua chuckles, shaking his head. “Sure. For ‘effect.’”

The thing is, Joshua could have roasted you to dust if he wanted to. But he never did. He’d always laugh it off, always find a way to turn the conversation into something lighter. And no matter how different you were, there was this unspoken respect between you. Like how he showed up to your gigs in high school wearing one of your band’s shirts, plastering flyers in the school hallways and sneaking some into the church bulletin board when no one was looking. 

And how you showed up at his baptism, cross necklace and all, standing there in the back, quiet but present. You never took the necklace off after that. The church boy who wouldn’t dare wear anything less than holy had given you a symbol of his faith, and you’d worn it ever since. You believed but weren't dedicated to it like Joshua, you used it because it was from him.

Joshua notices it now, the silver cross resting against your chest, slightly crooked. He reaches out, straightening it with a soft smile. “You still wear this?”

“Never took it off,” you admit, taking a long drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t mean I’m converting, though.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” he replies, leaning back on his palms. “I like that you wear it.”

You glance at him, a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Joshua says, turning his gaze toward the sunset dipping below the houses. “It’s…nice, y’know? Like, no matter how far apart we get, we’re still connected.”

“Connected, huh?” you murmur, tapping the cigarette ash onto the ground. “You’re getting sappy again, dude.”

He laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. “Shut up. You like it.”

“Yeah, but your world’s so boring, Josh. All hymns and Jesus. You should come to the dark side more often.”

“Pass,” he says with a smirk, but there’s warmth behind it. “I’d rather keep watching you make it big as a rockstar. Somebody’s gotta pray for you when you’re out there corrupting the youth.”

Maybe that’s the thing about you and Joshua—no matter how much you rag on each other, how different your lives look on the surface, there’s a connection you can’t explain. You’re fire and he’s ice, but somehow, you keep each other balanced.

“Hey,” you say, suddenly serious, eyes fixed on the street ahead. “Thanks for, y’know…showing up. For all of it. I know I’m not the easiest person to be around.”

Joshua’s voice softens. “You don’t have to thank me. You’ve always been there for me too.”

You glance at him, your heart doing this weird flip in your chest. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” you tease, though the words come out gentler than you intended.

Joshua grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Too late.”

You take another drag, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence, the kind only years of friendship can create. 

You weren’t trying to change him, and he wasn’t trying to save you.

The gossipy aunts on the block could speculate all they wanted—Joshua didn’t convert you, and no, you didn’t lead Joshua down some reckless path. You two were just… you. 

He’d brought you to church bazaars, where the smell of fried dough and barbecue sauce clung to your clothes long after you’d left, but he’d never pushed you to step foot into one of the more serious services. The ones where the hymns stretched on forever and people lost themselves in prayer. You didn’t do that, and he never asked you to.

And you? Well, you dragged Joshua to your gigs. He always stood at the front, close enough to feel the vibrations from the speakers, his clean-cut figure looking hilariously out of place in the sea of ripped jeans, leather jackets, and band tees.

But no matter how much he begged—and he did beg—you never brought him to the after-parties. The kind of chaos that erupted once the amps were off and the guitars were packed up. You’d drive him home, drop him off with a playful slap on the back, and head to the wildness he’d never see.

He didn’t need to know about the after-parties. He didn’t need to see you in your shortest leather mini skirt, the one that barely passed as clothing, as you downed beer after beer straight from the bottle, while the groupies flashed their tits at the band.

Joshua didn’t need to witness the wild shit that happened when everyone was too drunk or high to care about who was screwing who in the corner or the endless river of alcohol. That wasn’t his world, and you didn’t want him to see you like that. It was one thing for him to come to your shows, but seeing you let loose in a way that would make even your bandmates blush? No. He didn’t belong there.

Except… now Joshua was sitting with you in your garage, tuning your guitar like he always did before a big show, and he’d overheard you talking about the after-party.

“It’s the ten-year gig, huh?” he said casually, fingers sliding over the strings, adjusting them with that stupid focus he always had. “Big deal.”

“Yeah,” you replied, not thinking much of it. “It’s gonna be insane.”

Joshua’s head tilted, his lips pursing slightly. You recognized that look. It was the one he got when he was curious about something, when he was too polite to ask outright but dying to know more. He glanced at you. “You doing anything after? Like, after the gig?”

You paused. Shit. You hadn’t expected him to actually ask about that part. “Uh… yeah. There’s an after-party,” you said slowly, not looking at him. You fiddled with one of the tuning pegs on your bass, trying to look busy. “Same old stuff. You know.”

“I don’t know,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “You’ve never let me go to one.”

You glanced up at him, already feeling your cheeks heat up. “That’s ‘cause it’s not your scene, Josh.”

“I want to see it,” he said, leaning forward a little. His voice was soft, but there was a determination there you weren’t used to. He wasn’t backing down from this one. “I’ve seen you perform. Why not let me see the rest?”

You let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “Trust me, you don’t wanna see the rest.”

Joshua raised an eyebrow, studying you. “Why not?”

Why not? Why not? How were you supposed to explain this without getting even more flustered? You could feel your palms sweating just thinking about it. The thought of Joshua witnessing that version of you—messy, no filter—made your stomach twist in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable.

“It’s just… different, okay?” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “Like, the crowd’s wilder. Things get… crazy. I’m not the same up there as I am here.”

Joshua narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. “I’ve known you since we were in diapers, and you think I can’t handle ‘crazy’?”

“You’re not getting it,” you insisted, your voice a little sharper than you meant it to be. “This isn’t just a few beers and hanging out. People get wild, Josh. There’s stuff that happens that you probably don’t want to see. Hell, I don’t want you to see it.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. “Maybe I do.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he serious right now? Joshua, the guy who got anxious if someone said a cuss word too loud around him, was asking to see the madness that was your after-party?

“Why the hell would you want to see that?” you finally asked, genuinely confused.

“Because,” he said simply, leaning forward on his knees, “I’ve always seen one side of you. The side you let me see. I wanna see the whole picture. I want to know who you are when you’re up there, when you’re with your band, when you’re… being yourself.”

You felt your heart thud hard against your chest. Shit. This wasn’t just about the party, was it? He wanted to understand you. All of you.

“I don’t know, man…” You trailed off, looking anywhere but at him. 

“I can handle it,” Joshua said, voice gentle. “I’m not a kid. I know what goes on. Just because I don’t live like that doesn’t mean I can’t handle seeing it.”

You bit your lip, hesitating. He was stubborn, and you knew he wouldn’t let this go easily.

“Alright,” you finally said, sighing. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Joshua smiled, wide and a little too innocent. “I’ll take my chances.”

[...]

The van sat parked in front of your house, baking in the morning sun, loaded with amps, guitars, and a drum kit that had seen better days. You were supervising the guys hauling the last of the equipment into the back, hair still wrapped in rollers, trying not to sweat through your shirt before you even made it to the venue.

And then, you saw him.

Joshua was walking up the driveway, and for a split second, you didn’t recognize him. The button-up shirt, the clean-cut image you were so used to—it was all gone. Instead, he was wearing one of your shirts, and not just any shirt. 

It was from your solo album outside the band, the one with the wild, scrawling letters across the chest and the cover art below. The cover art that featured your bust, as your tits were covered by an electric guitar. Skin covered in smeared kiss marks, lips of all colors pressed against your skin in a way that had been raunchy enough to make your bandmates whistle when you first showed them.

The album cover had been controversial, to say the least, but it sold like hotcakes. And Joshua—Joshua—was strutting around in it like it was no big deal.

You almost choked on your own spit.

He had black jeans on, hugging his legs in a way you didn’t expect, and he’d thrown on a couple of leather bracelets that looked suspiciously like the ones you’d worn on stage a few times. And the sunglasses perched on his head? Definitely not his usual vibe. He looked like someone who belonged backstage, maybe even on stage, and not at some church picnic. Worse—he looked like the kind of guy you could moan just from looking at.

Your brain short-circuited. You could already imagine the girls from your staff catching sight of him and drooling. Hell, you were almost drooling.

But then you caught sight of that shirt again, and all you could think was, out of all the merch I’ve got, why the fuck did he pick that one?

“Josh…” you called out, your voice full of disbelief as he approached. You gestured at the shirt. “Did… did your parents see you before you left?”

Joshua burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Are you kidding? No way. My mom would’ve had a heart attack. I snuck out before they were even awake.”

You groaned, clapping your forehead. “Oh my God. You realize you’re walking around with a picture of my tits on your chest, right?”

He grinned, glancing down at the shirt like it hadn’t even occurred to him. “Yeah, I noticed. It’s bold, right?”

“Bold?” you repeated, eyes wide. “It’s fucking obscene! You wearing that is obscene. Jesus, I can already hear the aunties in the neighborhood clutching their pearls.”

Joshua shrugged, completely unfazed. “Relax. No one from church is gonna be at the venue. I’m good.”

You gave him a hard look, still half in disbelief. “I’m not worried about church people, I’m worried about all the other people.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, you don’t think I can pull it off?”

You blinked. Was he pulling it off? The more you stared at him, the more your brain started to fry. You didn’t know how to process this new Joshua—the one standing in front of you like he’d been born to wear that shirt. Born to make you lose your goddamn mind.

Joshua noticed your silence and raised an eyebrow. “What? You embarrassed?”

“I—no!” you shot back, though your cheeks were burning. “It’s just… fuck, you couldn’t pick a more normal one?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked, flashing a grin that was a little too cocky for your liking.

“I can already see the crew girls drooling over you.”

Joshua shrugged, completely unfazed. “Let ‘em drool.”

You had to laugh at that.

“You know what? Never mind,” you muttered, waving him off. “Let’s just get to the venue before I lose it.”

Joshua chuckled and followed you to the van, casually tossing his sunglasses onto the dashboard as he climbed into the passenger seat. You took one last glance at him before slamming the door shut. He was leaning back, arms crossed, looking totally at ease in a way that was both infuriating and… kind of hot. Shit.

You could feel Joshua’s presence next to you, his knee brushing yours whenever you hit a bump. It was distracting as hell, but you did your best to focus on the road, on the gig, on anything that wasn’t Joshua in that damn shirt.

The ride was filled with the usual chaos—your drummer tapping out beats on the seat in front of him, your guitarist tweaking pedal settings on the floor, and the bass player scrolling through social media, barely paying attention. Joshua sat next to you, quiet, but you could tell he was absorbing everything. The energy, the vibe. This was the part of your life he’d never seen before.

When you finally pulled up to the venue, you felt the familiar buzz of expectation in your chest. The stage crew was already setting up, speakers being wired in, lights being tested. You hopped out of the van, gesturing to the others to get moving.

Joshua followed close behind, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. The venue was bigger than the high school stages he was used to seeing you on. It was packed with people running back and forth, instruments being tuned, sound checks echoing in the air.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the stage. “This is...bigger than I expected.”

“Told ‘ya,” you said, grinning as you grabbed your bass and slung it over your shoulder. “Welcome to the real deal.”

Joshua nodded, clearly impressed. You could see the awe in his face, and a part of you felt proud that he was seeing this side of your world. The chaos, the noise, the energy. It was all part of the life you lived—the one he’d never been fully exposed to.

As the band started running through sound check, Joshua found a spot near the back, watching quietly, tapping his foot along with the beat. Every once in a while, you’d glance back at him, half-expecting to see him overwhelmed, but he wasn’t. He was nodding along, sunglasses now perched on his nose, looking like he fit right in.

You could hear the low murmur of the crowd outside, getting louder as more people settled into their seats. Joshua was still talking with Rob, your drummer, which gave you just enough time to pull the rollers out of your hair and finish your makeup in front of the cracked mirror in the dressing room. You rushed through it, swiping on your signature dark lipstick, when the door creaked open, and in walked Joshua.

Of course.

He stopped mid-stride, eyes darting around the room, then finally landing on you—and your outfit. You were wearing a black, lacy top that was just sheer enough to leave little to the imagination, especially when it came to the piercing you knew he had seen before. You’d never made a big deal out of it, but every time Joshua caught a glimpse, he’d get that uncomfortable look on his face, like he wasn’t supposed to be seeing something so private.

“Eyes, Joshua. Eyes,” you could almost hear him coaching himself. His gaze flickered up to your face, but it was too late—you’d caught the quick dip to your chest, to the black leather pants hugging your hips like a second skin.

“Uh, hey,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck, clearly trying to act casual, but his voice came out rougher than usual. “I was, uh… just letting you know I should probably get to my seat. The crowd’s filling in.”

You smirked, finishing the last swipe of lipstick and tossing the tube onto the makeup table. “Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and adjusting the top slightly. “You’re not sitting in the crowd anyway.”

“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion, still trying hard to maintain eye contact, which was almost comical at this point.

“You coming up for the encore,” you explained, crossing your arms. “VIP section, side-stage. Didn’t I tell you?”

Joshua blinked. “No. You didn’t mention that.”

You grinned, seeing how flustered he was, and it only made you want to push him further. “Guess I forgot.” You winked, loving the way his mouth opened slightly, the words stuck in his throat. “Go get settled. We’ll call you up when it’s time.”

He mumbled something under his breath and awkwardly nodded, backing out of the room with a half-hearted wave. As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a breath, grinning to yourself. Good luck keeping your eyes up there, church boy.

[...]

By the time you hit the stage, the crowd was electric. You could feel the vibration in your bones, the pulse of the drums and bass weaving through your body. The lights were blinding, sweat already starting to drip down your back within the first few songs. You scanned the crowd, catching sight of Joshua standing where you told him, off to the side, eyes glued to you like he’d never seen you before.

Maybe he hadn’t.

You weren’t just some girl with a guitar tonight. You were in it, the music flowing through your veins, your hands sliding over the neck of the guitar like they were made for it. The band was tight, every note hitting harder than the last, and you felt alive in a way you couldn’t describe. The crowd roared, hands reaching out as your bandmates, already stripped of their shirts, threw them into the audience like trophies.

Joshua’s eyes were wide, watching the sweat drip down your arms as your muscles flexed with every chord change. You were lost in it, mouth slightly open during one of your solos, head thrown back as you pulled the guitar into your body like it was an extension of you. You could feel his gaze, heavy and unblinking, and it only pushed you harder. You let your voice growl into the mic, letting out the kind of raw, strong energy that got you here in the first place.

His mind must’ve been racing. He’d seen you play before, but never like this. Never with this much heat, this much intensity. You weren’t just a rockstar tonight—you were a sex symbol, and every single person in that venue, including Joshua, could feel it.

It hit him then—this was why you didn’t want him to come to the after-parties. It wasn’t just about the chaos or the booze. It was because, in this space, on stage, with the lights and the music and the crowd screaming your name—you were untouchable. And so, so fucking hot.

He’d always known you were beautiful, but this? This was something else. Watching your body move in rhythm with the music, the way your fingers slid across the strings, the sweat glistening on your skin—fuck. Joshua couldn’t take his eyes off you. Every part of you was dripping with confidence, sexuality.

The crowd erupted as you launched into the final solo, the room swelling with the sound of your guitar. Joshua’s gaze lingered on your body, on the way your leather pants clung to every curve, on the sway of your hips as you moved, and on your lips, slightly parted as you leaned into the mic. He swallowed hard, heat rushing to his face as he watched your muscles tense and release, every move planned, every note flawless.

His thoughts ran wild, and as you finished the set, throwing your head back in a final roar of victory, he couldn’t help but think, So this is what she didn’t want me to see.

The show ended in a blur of cheers and flashing lights, the energy still pulsing in your veins as you stumbled off stage, half-drunk on adrenaline. When you spotted Joshua at the back of the room, standing there with that wide-eyed look of disbelief, you couldn't help but laugh.

You walked over to him, sweat still glistening on your skin, a tired but satisfied grin on your face. “Well?” you asked, chest heaving. “What’d you think?”

Joshua blinked, forcing his gaze up from the floor to meet yours. He swallowed thickly, that guilty knot tightening in his throat. “It was… amazing,” he admitted, his voice a little hoarse. “You were—fuck, you’re incredible up there.”

His compliment was genuine, but there was something else in his eyes. Something conflicted, like he wasn’t sure how to feel about what he’d just seen. His best friend—the girl he’d known since forever—looked like this. Played like that. He felt sick about it. Sick because his heart was pounding for all the wrong reasons. Sick because seeing you like that—half-wild, sweaty, powerful—it wasn’t just admiration anymore.

You grinned, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Told you it was a rush.”

Before he could respond, the two of you heard the unmistakable sound of feet pounding the floor. Fans. A whole wave of them was running toward the back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the band before they left. You didn’t even think, just grabbed Joshua’s hand and yanked him with you, sprinting toward the van parked outside.

You were laughing as you ran, your grip tight around his wrist, and Joshua couldn’t help the way his heart raced—whether from running or from being so close to you, he didn’t know. He could hear you breathing hard, could see the wildness in your eyes. And for the first time, he got it. The thrill. The chaos. The rush that came with living your life like this.

By the time you both reached the van and slammed the door behind you, you collapsed onto the seat, letting out a long, relieved moan. Joshua just stood there for a moment, chest heaving, eyes wide. He felt it now—the thrill, the electric hum in his blood. But also something else, something that made his stomach twist.

When you caught his eye and smiled that lazy, satisfied smile, he felt like he was losing his grip. You looked like a sexy mess, hair tousled, lipstick smeared, eyes sparkling. He could still feel the warmth of your hand in his, and it was doing things to him—dangerous things.

“The after-party’s at a club,” you said, glancing at him as the van roared to life. “Private for tonight. Just the band and our friends.”

Joshua nodded, his mouth dry. He had no idea what to expect.

[...]

The club was another world entirely.

The moment you stepped inside, Joshua was hit with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and something that might’ve been smoke, but wasn’t just cigarettes. The bass was pounding, vibrating through the floor, and there were bodies everywhere.

The first thing he noticed was your bandmates already surrounded by a small crowd of girls—half-naked, some practically sitting in their laps. One of them was making out with the guitarist, her hand slipping under his shirt while the others just laughed, already drunk and messy.

Joshua’s throat tightened, his eyes wide as he took it all in. It was chaos. Absolute chaos. People were drinking, smoking, making out in dark corners, hands wandering under clothes with zero shame.

And then there was you.

You didn’t miss a beat, grabbing a drink from the bar and downing it like it was water. When you turned to face him, leaning back against the bar with your leather pants clinging to your body and your shirt barely covering anything, you were a vision. A sexy, disheveled vision, your hair a mess, lips wet from the drink, and eyes hazy from the adrenaline of the show.

You were the kind of person that people wrote songs about—the kind of person that people lost themselves over.

“You good?” you asked, voice low, almost drowned out by the music.

Joshua blinked, swallowing hard. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.” But he wasn’t. He could barely keep his head straight with everything going on around him.

You grinned, holding out your drink. “Here. This’ll help.”

He hesitated for a second, but then grabbed the glass, taking a long gulp. The burn of alcohol felt good, grounding him for a moment. But it wasn’t enough to block out the heat in his chest, the strange attraction, the strange guilt swirling inside him.

You chuckled, watching him down half the drink. “Easy there.”

Joshua wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling hard. He shook his head, swallowing again, trying to focus. But then you were close—too close—and he could smell the combination of your perfume and sweat, and suddenly it was all he could think about. You were so casual about it, so relaxed in this wild mess, like you were born for it.

Joshua stared at you, watching the way your body moved with the music, the way your hips swayed slightly, your hair falling in your face. And he couldn’t help it—he wanted you. Wanted to pull you close, to taste the sweat on your skin, to feel the heat of you pressed against him.

But he couldn’t. You were his best friend. You’d been through everything together. But right now, in this moment, you weren’t just his friend. You were a fucking rockstar. And that terrified him as much as it thrilled him.

Joshua took another long drink, trying to drown the feelings that were bubbling up inside him. You watched him, a slow, knowing smile creeping onto your lips as you leaned in closer, eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“You feelin’ it now, aren’t you?” you whispered, voice just loud enough for him to hear.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Because yeah, he was feeling it. The rush, the heat, the want. And it was all because of you.

Someone in the crowd—a guy with a half-buttoned shirt and lazy grin—held out a blunt to Joshua, smirking. “Want a hit, man?”

Joshua froze. His mind blanked for a second. “Nah, he doesn’t smoke. Leave him alone.” The air suddenly felt too heavy, the idea of it too real. Before he could even answer, you were at his side, grabbing the guy’s hand and pushing it back with a casual laugh. “He’s too saintly for that.”

Joshua froze, the word saintly cutting through the noise. You were teasing, of course, but that single word twisted in his gut. He didn’t need you looking at him like that—like he was too pure, too clean for this world you thrived in. He hated it. Hated that you saw him like some untouched, pristine version of himself that didn’t even exist. That look you gave him, all amused and lighthearted, made his skin crawl because it only reminded him of how distant he felt from you in that moment.

You grinned at him, eyes gleaming. “Come on, Josh. You’re way too neat for this shit. Leave the bad habits to me.”

He clenched his jaw, hands in his pockets, trying to keep his cool. The thing was—you had no idea. You saw him as the same old Joshua, the one you grew up with, the guy who kept his hands clean while you dived headfirst into the chaos. But fuck, that wasn’t him. Not really. Not anymore. You thought he was some perfect church boy who’d never done anything wild, who probably still had his V-card, for God’s sake.

If only you knew.

The way you laughed about it, as if the thought of him doing anything wild—anything sinful—was so absurd it was hilarious. And that burned. More than it should’ve.

Joshua swallowed, trying to keep his cool, but your words dug in deep. Saintly. Neat. Like you didn’t know. Like you couldn’t even imagine him doing anything like that. He wasn’t a fucking saint. He wasn’t clean like you thought. He’d done things—felt things—that would wipe that smirk off your face. But you… you never saw him that way. Not Joshua.

 “You’re lucky, y’know? Not everyone can pull off that whole saintly thing,” you teased, brushing a hand through your messy hair.

He clenched his jaw. “I’m not a fucking saint,” he muttered under his breath. But you didn’t hear him—or maybe you didn’t care.

Joshua felt his pulse quicken, the alcohol buzzing in his system, loosening up the tension in his limbs but doing nothing to calm his mind. He hated how you looked at him. Like he was too clean, too good for this world you lived in. He hated how you never saw him as anything more than “good ol’ Joshua.” The guy who had never gone off the rails, the guy who probably never even had his dick wet before.

That’s what you thought, wasn’t it?

And fuck, he couldn’t stand it. The truth gnawed at him, because you had no idea who he was outside of your little bubble. You didn’t know about the times he’d stayed up too late, desperate to cum, the fantasies he’d let himself get lost in—half of them about you, goddammit. You didn’t know about the nights he’d spent grinding against someone, hands buried in their hair, feeling the warmth of their body pressed against his, the messy nights where he lost himself entirely.

You looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

His breath caught. You were joking—you had to be—but something in the way you said it, so casual, so sure that he wouldn’t… it broke something in him. The club around him blurred as he focused on you, standing there all relaxed, your lips still slightly parted, that familiar teasing glint in your eyes.

He couldn’t stop himself. “You really think I’m that fucking innocent, huh?” His voice was sharper than he intended, the words cutting through the thrum of the music.

You blinked, pulling back slightly, surprised by the edge in his tone. “What? No, I just—”

“You think I’ve never been with anyone? Never had my fuckin’ cock wet before?” He didn’t care how crude it sounded. Didn’t care that it was probably the first time you’d ever heard him talk like that. He was sick of it. Sick of the version of himself you’d created in your mind.

You feel the heat rise in your chest, a compound of anger and something else you don’t even want to admit. The way he said it—rough, out of character—like he was someone else entirely. Part of you wants to slap him for it, for breaking the image of the Joshua you knew. The good one. The clean-cut guy who’d never even raise his voice, let alone tell you he wasn’t so fucking innocent. But the other part of you… it liked it. The tension, the bite in his words, the way he stood there, all riled up.

You narrow your eyes, smirking just a little.

His jaw clenches. His nostrils flare. For the first time, you see his eyes darken—none of that usual light. No soft Joshua anymore. His face shifts into something harder, almost dangerous. It catches you off guard, and suddenly you’re not sure if you’re playing a game you can win.

“Don’t push it,” he warns. It sends a cold lick from the beginning of your spine to the end, but you tilt your head, still smirking, testing him.

“What? Gonna do something about it?” You lean in closer, just inches from his face now, daring him. “C’mon, Joshua. Show me.”

And then it happens.

He’s on you so fast, you don’t even have time to process it. His hands grab your waist, fingers digging into your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you feel it—the hard line of his cock pressing into your belly. Your breath catches in your throat, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you lean in, testing the waters, your body instinctively reacting to the sudden heat between you two.

His mouth crashes onto yours, rough, almost desperate, all that pent-up tension is spilling out at once. His lips are soft but demanding, like they’re asking for something, but also taking it without permission. You kiss him back just as fiercely, a messy clash of teeth and tongues, the taste of alcohol on both your breaths mixing as you struggle for control.

His hands slide down your back, grabbing your ass with a roughness that makes you gasp, and he pulls you tighter against him, grinding into you just enough to let you know exactly how turned on he is. “Fuck,” he mutters into your mouth, barely pulling away to speak. You can feel the frustration, the years of him being the good one, bubbling up in every kiss, every touch.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol, but you grab onto his shoulders, pulling him even closer, your nails digging into his skin through his shirt. It’s messy, frantic, and the sound of it—the heavy breathing, the low growls coming from him, the way your lips smack together—fills the small space between you like the only thing that matters is how fast and hard you can make this happen.

And god, it’s wrong. So fucking wrong. You can feel it in the back of your mind, the thought lingering, telling you this isn’t who Joshua is. Not the guy you grew up with. But right now, he doesn’t feel like the Joshua you knew. He feels like someone who’s been hiding this side of himself for too long, someone who’s finally letting the mask slip.

And the worst part? You like it. Maybe too much.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, and his eyes—fuck, his eyes are almost black with craving, his chest heaving as he stares at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. You can see it on his face—how much he wants this, how much he needs to prove to you that he’s not as clean as you think he is.

“You sure you wanna keep pushing?” His voice is raspy, breathless, and his grip on your hips tightens. “’Cause I don’t think you can handle what happens if you do.”

Your breath hitches, but you don’t back down. “Try me,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

And just like that, he’s on you again. This time, rougher. His mouth moves down to your neck, teeth scraping against your skin as he kisses you there, biting just hard enough to make you gasp. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, and you feel the hard press of his cock grinding into your stomach as his hands roam over your body, touching, grabbing, pulling. He’s all over you.

You’re backed into the wall of the van now, his body trapping you there, and for a second, you think about the others. Your bandmates. The people who know Joshua—the real Joshua. You can almost feel their judgment, the silent “what the fuck” looks they’d give you if they saw this. If they saw how you’re fucking with his head, breaking him down until he’s someone else entirely.

But right now, none of that matters. Not when he’s kissing you like this, touching you like this. Not when his hand slips under your shirt, fingers grazing over your bare skin, making you shiver. Not when he’s showing you this side of himself that you never even thought existed.

And fuck, you realize. You’ve been wrong about Joshua. So, so wrong.

And he’s not done showing you just how wrong you’ve been.

Joshua’s hands slide under your top, squeezing your waist, his thumbs teasing your skin, brushing against the underside of your boobs until they find your nipples, flicking at the piercings. The sensation makes you gasp, your body betraying you as you fold under his touch. You clutch his arm, your breath heavy against his neck, before you moan right into his ear. You feel him twitch, nearly stumbling in front of you, his control unraveling.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, yanking it back to force his eyes on you. His bottom lip catches between his teeth, and you can see the hunger there, the intensity, the rawness of it. “We need to stop,” you breathe, trying to sound firm, but even to your own ears, it’s weak.

Joshua’s mouth presses back against your neck, and he mutters between kisses, each one punctuating his words. “No. You don’t. Want. To. Stop. Do. You?” His breath is hot against your skin, each word hitting you harder than the last, unraveling your willpower.

“I’m serious,” you insist, but it’s pathetic, because the way he’s touching you—like he’s memorizing every inch of your body, like he’s known this moment was coming—makes it impossible to think straight.

He pulls back for a moment, eyes searching yours, checking if you really want to stop. His expression softens, as if he’s giving you an out. 

“We need to stop, or we’re gonna end up fucking right here in front of everyone.”

For a second, you both pause, glancing around. The crowd is still buzzing, everyone too lost in their own world to notice what’s happening between the two of you. You could, technically. You could fuck right here, and no one would bat an eye, but that last shred of morality keeps you in check, pulling you back from the edge. Barely.

Joshua was imagining just how much worse things could get. But honestly, he liked every single one of these thoughts. 

He grabs your hand, pulling you toward the club’s parking lot, and rushing toward the van.

The heavy door of the van slides shut behind you, and Joshua locks it with a rough click, sealing the two of you inside. The second the door’s closed, it’s like the floodgates open. His hands are everywhere—grabbing, pulling, needy. He kisses you harder now, more frantic, his body pushing you against the side of the van, and your back hits the first seat with a thud.

You stumble, the both of you crashing into a pile of boxed-up instruments. Your knee hits a guitar case, his ass bump on the drum box, but neither of you care. Joshua’s hand slides down to your ass, squeezing hard as he pulls you into him, making sure you feel every inch of him pressed against your thigh. You’re practically panting, the need between you both building, burning.

You push him back toward the last row of seats, hands fumbling at his belt as you go, your teeth grazing his jaw, his neck, tasting the sweat and the heat from the show earlier.

He moans down in his throat, a sound that rumbles through his chest and straight into yours, and you swear it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. His fingers dig into your hips as he backs into the seat, pulling you down on top of him, your legs straddling his lap, the hard press of his cock straining against his jeans beneath you.

“Fuck,” you gasp, grinding against him, and his head falls back against the seat, eyes rolling shut for a second as you move. You take advantage of it, your lips finding his neck, your teeth scraping his skin just enough to make him hiss.

The leather of your pants is sticking to your skin, but you barely register it as Joshua leans down, kissing you again, his hands slipping under your top and pulling it up, exposing you. His mouth moves lower, trailing down your neck, across your collarbone, and then lower, until his lips are at your chest. He doesn’t hesitate—his mouth finds your nipple, and he flicks his tongue over the piercing, making you arch your back, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

The leather pants cling to you, slick with sweat, and you can feel every inch of them suffocating your skin. You groan in frustration, hands fumbling to yank them off. In your hurry, you knock your elbow hard against a nearby box, hissing in pain. Joshua’s hands are on you immediately, steadying you as you finally peel the damn pants down, tossing them aside like they personally offended you. He takes the opportunity to shove his own pants down to his knees, and as you glance up, he's yanking his shirt over his head.

You’re back on his lap before he even realizes what’s happening, grinding down on him through the thin fabric of your underwear and his boxers. It’s a hell of a lot better than the rough leather, and you feel the instant response—his hands grip your thighs so hard it’s like he’s holding on for dear life, his head falling back with this breathless, whiny moan.

His fingers slide down the front of your panties, finding you soaked, and he’s instantly wrecked. “Fuck, you’re dripping,” he growls, his voice ragged, eyes dark and hungry as they lock onto yours. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

The dirty words coming from him feel so wrong, so foreign, but god, it’s making your head spin, red flags of danger flickering in your mind, and you can’t stop.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you mumble, still grinding against his hand, but then he pushes a finger inside you, and your whole body jolts. A hand flies up, palm slamming against the fogged window for balance, leaving a print there as you rock forward, riding his thick, calloused finger.

His finger feels huge, and the stretch of it makes you dizzy. You’re thankful for the seat behind you, giving you the support you need because you’re practically sprawled back on it, grinding on his hand like your life depends on it. 

He’s watching you, eyes locked on every twitch of your face, every moan spilling from your lips, and then he slides another finger in. The stretch makes you gasp, thighs trembling as he moves them inside you, fingers curling and hitting that spot that makes your vision go blurry.

“Talk dirty to me,” he suddenly demands, voice low and gruff. 

“You… don’t like it when I curse,” you manage, barely coherent as his fingers keep moving inside you.

“Fuck that,” he growls, fingers curling deeper, making you whimper. “Call me whatever the fuck you want. Call me a motherfucker, I don’t care. Just talk to me, let me hear it.”

Your body’s trembling, eyes rolling back as you grind harder against his hand, desperate for more.

You moan, feeling his fingers pumping inside you as his thumb brushes your clit. You’re teetering on the edge, and words are spilling out before you can stop them. “God, Joshua… Always acting so pure. I bet no one would believe how fucking hard you are for me right now, huh?”

His breath stutters at your words, his fingers thrusting harder inside you. “Keep going.”

“Is this what you’ve wanted?” you gasp, rocking your hips against him, feeling that coil tightening in your belly. “You want me to ride your fingers like a fucking slut, huh?”

He groans, low and deep. "Fuck, yes”

Your body’s trembling, every thrust of his fingers pushing you closer to the brink. “You’re such a motherfucker,” you whisper against his lips, your voice breaking. "You feel that? Feel how close I am? You're gonna make me—shit!—cum all over your fingers.”

Your head falls back against the seat, eyes fluttering closed as his rough, calloused fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that makes your entire body tense. You're whimpering, struggling to keep the dirty talk going, but it's hard to form words when every nerve in your body is on fire. "God, Joshua, your fingers... they’re so fucking big," you manage to choke out, voice shaky.

He smirks, eyes dark, watching the way your body responds to him. “If you think my fingers are big,” he breathes, thrusting them deeper, faster, “imagine how you’re gonna feel when it’s my cock inside you.”

The thought sends another wave of heat pooling between your legs, and you grip his forearm, nails digging into his skin as he moves his fingers faster, relentless, pressing into your sweet spot over and over. Your walls clamp down around him, and a broken cry escapes your lips, your body trembling as the tension snaps, pleasure ripping through you in a rush.

"Fuck—Joshua!" you moan, your voice high and desperate as your orgasm hits you hard, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tight you can barely think. Your slick coats his hand, and he watches you fall apart, eyes locked on the way your body writhes against his, chest heaving, face twisted in pleasure.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, and you can feel him watching you, his expression mirroring your own without even meaning to. His lips part in a quiet curse, like he’s just as lost in it as you are, completely captivated by the way you cum on his fingers, riding the digits until you curl up on him.

His fingers slip out of you, slick and shiny, leaving you empty. Your breath catches in your throat when his hand dips down to his own cock, still hard and straining under the thin fabric of his boxers. He grunts softly, shifting, and you catch a glimpse of the outline of it through the fabric—big, thick. Your mouth goes dry at the sight.

He’s moving fast, lips already on you again, his mouth latching onto your nipple. You gasp as his teeth graze the sensitive bud, his tongue swirling over the metal of your piercing like he’s obsessed—after all, besides seeing it through your blouses, now he has them in his mouth. His grip tightens around your waist, pulling you closer, almost like he’s trying to devour you.

“Fuck, Joshua,” you rasp out, voice shaky, still buzzing from the orgasm he pulled from you with just his fingers. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

He pauses for a second, teeth scraping your skin as his mouth moves up to nip at your collarbone, smirking. “What, you think just 'cause I look all neat and clean, I don’t know how to make a girl cum?” he leaves a wet hickey on your chest. “Trust me, babe, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

You arch into him, head tilting back as his tongue flicks against your other nipple, but this time, he looks inside your eyes. “Could’ve fooled me… always acting like a saint.”

His hand tightens on your thigh, sliding up between your legs again, brushing against your soaked panties. He smirks against your skin. “You’re the one who’s been driving me fucking crazy. Always teasing me. You know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

You’re about to reply, but his fingers are pulling at the waistband of your panties, dragging them to the side. The next thing you know, he’s pushing his boxers down, freeing his cock. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of it—he’s big, thicker than you expected, the tip already slick with precum. And for a moment, you can’t help but wonder how many girls have seen this side of him, but then he’s guiding you back onto his lap, hands firm on your hips, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Shit,” you whisper, feeling the thick head of his cock brushing against your folds. The feel makes you hold your breath, the heat from his body and the sheer wrongness of it making your pulse race.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a brief second, there’s conflict there—like he’s torn between the best friend who used to crash on your couch, and the guy who's about to fuck you. He’s barely holding himself together.

He guides himself inside you slowly, inch by inch, and you can feel every stretch, every pulse of his cock as it fills you up. You gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders as you sink down onto him, his size making your head spin. "Jesus, Joshua..." you groan, head falling forward, overwhelmed by how full you feel.

His cock feels impossibly big, filling you up completely, and for a moment, you wonder how the hell you’re even taking him.

His hands tremble slightly on your waist as he pushes the rest of the way in, a throaty moan slipping from his lips. “Fuck, this is so wrong,” he mutters, voice shaky, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re my fucking best friend, I shouldn’t be doing this—” His voice breaks off into another moan as you start to move, your hips rolling against him.

You watch him, grinning at the conflict flickering in his eyes, the way his face contorts with each movement of your hips. His best friend—the girl he’s never even crossed boundaries with—now stretched out, tight around his cock. It's almost too much for him, his mind clearly buzzing with how wrong it is, but his body craves more, needing the way you feel wrapped around him.

His moans meld with yours, louder now, whiny. "You're making me fucking lose my mind."

You lean in close, lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “Then lose it. Let me fuck you like no one else ever has.”

He growls low in his throat, his control slipping completely. He thrusts up into you, harder, deeper, and you moan, head falling back as your body rocks against his. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing roughly as he pulls you down onto him again and again, his cock hitting deeper with each thrust.

You press both hands to his chest, halting his frantic thrusts, pinning him back against the seat. “Whoa, slow down,” you say, eyes locked on his as you adjust yourself, shifting until you find the angle that makes you gasp. His cock twitches inside you, and you bite back a smirk. You know you’ve got him right where you want him now.

You flick your hair to one side, leaning back a bit, and start riding him slow, dragging it out, making sure he feels every inch. His mouth opens to say something, but you change the motion, circling your hips instead, and whatever he was going to say dies in his throat. You scoff, half laughing, half moaning. “What? Why so quiet now?”

His hands fly to the armrests, knuckles turning white as he grips the leather for dear life. You know exactly what he’s doing—trying to stop himself from grabbing you too rough, like you can’t handle it. Like you don’t want him to. But you take one of his hands and place it on the side of your face, his palm practically engulfing your head. You lean into his touch, biting your lip before saying it. “Slap me.”

His eyes go wide. “What?”

“Come on,” you grind down on him again, slower, teasing. “You’ve never slapped anyone before? Right on my face. Do it.”

He looks torn, breath hitching as you ride him harder. You can tell he’s struggling to even think straight, his stomach clenching, his abs flexing under your hands as the pleasure hits him hard. But it’s your pace that’s driving him insane, the way you bounce on his cock, taking him deep, then slowing down just enough to drag it out. He’s barely hanging on.

His voice is rough when he finally speaks, “Fuck… I don’t—” He gasps when you clench around him on purpose, his hips flinching up into you, reflexive. His hand tightens on your jaw before he lets go, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can—”

“Shut up,” you whisper, eyes burning with challenge. “Slap me.” The way you’re looking at him, daring him, makes his heart pound in his chest. He hesitates for half a second, but when you grind down on him again, harder, his control snaps.

He slaps you, hard. Harder than he intended.

The sound of it rings out, followed by his shocked gasp. But you’re already moaning, your pussy clenching so tight around him that he almost loses it. He watches in disbelief as you react, the slap turning you on even more, your walls fluttering around his cock, soaking him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, staring at you, wide-eyed, as you keep riding him like nothing just happened—no, like it made everything better.

Your body jerks with each bounce, the slap leaving a burning sting on your cheek, but all it does is fuel the fire between your legs. “See?” you taunt. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He groans, the sound low and desperate. “Fuck… you’re fucking insane.” His hands find your waist again, but this time he doesn’t try to hold back. He grips you tight, fingers digging into your skin as you grind against him, circling your hips just to watch his head fall back, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut.

Every time you clench down on him on purpose, his whole body flinches, like he’s trying so hard not to lose control. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight,” he growls, voice ragged. “I can feel… fuck, I can feel you squeezing me like you want me to fucking break.”

You bite your lip, eyes half-lidded as you meet his gaze. “Maybe I do.”

Joshua's thumb strokes the still-hot skin of your cheek where he slapped you. You bounce hard on his cock, the slap only making the tension between you snap tighter. His thumb lingers, gently caressing the mark like he’s making up for what he did, but you grin, biting your lip through the pleasure and ask for more;

“Slap me again.”

It’s the same voice you used when you asked him to push you harder on a swing—excited, impatient, full of that rush of adrenaline. He sucks in a breath, brows furrowed like he’s torn, but the way your pussy tightens around him makes his decision for him. His hand raises again, and this time, it lands with purpose.

Your face turns to the side from the force, cheek burning red-hot, and fuck, it burns even better than the last one. 

Your pussy tightens around him instantly, and Joshua groans. He can feel the way your body responds, how you pulse around him every time he does it. You moan, “Fuck… I think I’m gonna cum again.” The whine at the end of your sentence makes his cock twitch, and it sparks something animalistic in him.

Joshua grabs your hips, lifting you just enough to pin you down on his lap, grinding his pelvis into you so deep that your vision goes hazy for a second. You roll your eyes, barely hanging on. Before you can catch your breath, he’s flipping you onto the seat, his cock never leaving you as he lays you down, spreading your legs up and grabbing the backs of your knees.

The new angle has you arching your back immediately, hands scrambling for purchase on the seat. He starts thrusting, and it’s so hard and deep you swear your body is melting into the seat. Each snap of his hips sends a sharp lock of bliss through you, his pelvis slamming into yours, and you know anyone outside can hear the van rocking, but you don’t fucking care.

You don’t care about anything except him, the way his thumb circles your clit just as he slips it down, thumb circling the base of his cock, spreading your slickness over the throbbing nerve. Your body jerks, an involuntary sob escaping your throat.

Joshua’s never seen you like this—ruined, makeup streaking down your face, thick tears rolling down your cheeks. His grin is huge, his breath ragged as he stares down at you, fucking relentless in his pace. “Aw, look at you. You’re crying on my cock,” he coos, his voice laced with sweet mockery. He presses harder on your clit, making you squirm, and he chuckles low, shaking his head. “Such a good girl, crying for me like that. You can’t even handle it, can you?”

You let out a strangled gasp, your body writhing under him as you feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, everything inside you winding so tight. “Fuck,” you choke out, “Josh, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby,” he growls, leaning down, his mouth right by your ear now. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, gonna make a mess of me?”

You’re too far gone to answer, your head tipped back as your body reaches its breaking point. His thumb circles your clit faster, his cock hitting that spot inside you over and over, and your whole body shakes uncontrollably. You feel the coil snap inside you so hard that you almost black out, your pussy clenching around him like a vice as you cum, the orgasm ripping through you with inhuman intensity. 

You scream his name, tears streaming down your face as you sob through it, your body trembling violently as your release floods out of you, soaking his cock and thighs.

Joshua watches, mesmerized by how fucking ruined you are beneath him, and he leans down, whispering against your lips, “That’s right. Cry for me more, baby. Show me how good it feels. Look at you… soaking me like that, dripping all over me.”

Joshua's hips stutter, and you feel the unmistakable swell of his cock inside you, growing thicker, pulsing as he teeters on the edge. He pulls out suddenly, leaving you breathless as he grips his cock, jerking it against your slick stomach. His hand is tight, desperate, moving fast as his chest rises and falls in ragged breaths.

His moans are a mess—whiny, high-pitched, slipping from his throat like he can’t control them. He bites his bottom lip hard, but the sly little whimpers escape him anyway, each sound more desperate than the last. His abs tense, his whole body trembling above you, muscles tight as a cord about to snap. His eyes flutter shut, head falling back slightly as he loses himself in the feeling.

“Fuck—” he gasps, his voice breaking as his orgasm hits him like a freight train. His grip falters for a split second, and then his cock jerks hard in his hand, spilling hot ropes of cum. It spurts in thick, messy streams, splattering across your belly, sliding up toward your chest, even reaching your chin. His knees buckle slightly, and he has to grab the back of the seat in front of him to keep from collapsing, his whole body shuddering through the force of it.

He’s panting, still jerking himself through the aftershocks, and his cum keeps dripping from the tip, mixing with the sweat that’s already covering both of you. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, falling to the side as your body finally gives out, utterly spent. The van feels suffocating, the air thick and humid, making it hard to breathe as the windows fog up completely now.

Joshua’s hand is still braced on the seat for support, knuckles white, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. His eyes flicker open, and when he looks down at you—covered in him, eyes heavy, body limp—you can see the disbelief, the satisfaction, and maybe even a little guilt.

But neither of you moves, too wrecked to do anything but exist in the humid silence of the van, your breaths slowly returning to something like normal.

Joshua settles into the seat next to you, staring down at you like he’s trying to make sense of everything. You both stay silent, like the weight of what just happened hasn’t fully hit yet. Neither of you moves; it's as if you need this stillness to process, to figure out what the fuck this was and where it might lead. Was it the alcohol? The adrenaline? Or maybe the tension between you two, the one you both never admitted but always felt.

He suddenly stands up, his voice breaking the silence. “Where’s your necessaire?” You barely register the question, too lost in thought, so you just point lazily toward the front of the van, your limbs too tired to follow his movements.

You hear the zipper open, the soft rustle of him digging through your things. Your legs ache from the awkward position they’re in, but before you can shift, Joshua is back beside you. Without a word, he gently lifts your legs, folding them in a more comfortable position, almost cradling you. You catch his eyes as he pulls out makeup remover wipes.

He starts with your face, wiping away the tear-streaked makeup, his touch as soft as it’s ever been. “Close your eyes,” he murmurs, brushing your cheek tenderly—the same cheek he slapped earlier, his movements extra gentle now, like he’s trying to undo any mark he left.

You close your eyes, feeling his hands glide across your skin. “You’re lucky I know how to clean this up,” he teases lightly, the sound of his voice strangely comforting. “You always were a mess after shows.”

You hum, half-laughing. “You should see me after the after-parties.” The humor doesn’t land quite like it usually does; there’s something too real now, something too intimate that makes the joke feel heavy.

He uses a fresh wipe to clean the cum from your body, starting at your chin and working his way down your belly. His touch lingers, but it’s not lustful—more like he’s making sure every part of you is taken care of, like you’re something precious. “Lift your arm for me,” he says softly, and you comply, feeling the coolness of the wipe brush under your arm and along your ribs.

When he finishes, his hand slips to your necklace, the little cross with the rhinestones—one you wear mostly because of him. His fingers fiddle with it for a second, the small gesture almost grounding, like it’s pulling him back to reality. 

“You good?” he asks finally, eyes scanning your face, like he’s not sure if he went too far, if maybe you’re more hurt than you’re letting on.

“Yeah,” you breathe, and even though you’re wrecked, there’s something warm in your chest. “I’m good.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, his touch featherlight. “You sure? You need anything else?”

You smirk a little, exhausted but still yourself. “Yeah, I need a nap.”

Joshua chuckles under his breath, still holding your necklace. “Alright, you take that nap. I’ll watch over you.” There’s something sweet in his tone, a promise hidden in the words, something you know he means more than he’s letting on.

And as you start to drift, you can’t help but think that despite everything—despite the wild shit that just happened—Joshua is still Joshua. Sweet, caring, a little too good for this world, and somehow, still your person.

[...]

The nap you took wasn’t just any nap—it was wild, like the kind where time feels like it disappears. When you finally blink your eyes open, groggy and confused, the van’s already moving, and you hear muffled voices. Your crew is in the van now, going about their business like nothing happened. Instinctively, your hands fly to your chest, covering yourself, but you’re already dressed—the same clothes from the show.

Relief floods through you, though you’re not sure why. Then you realize where your head is resting—not on the uncomfortable seat like before, but on Joshua’s lap. His thick thighs beneath you are surprisingly comfortable, his body warm against yours.

You feel him stir beneath you, his body shifting as he wakes up too. His hand brushes against your arm, and you glance up, meeting his eyes. His hair’s a bit messy, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but there’s this soft smile on his face, one that makes you feel like everything’s okay.

“Mornin’,” he murmurs, voice rough from sleep, his hand absentmindedly stroking your arm.

“Mornin’,” you echo back, your own voice low and hoarse.

There’s a moment of quiet between you, the rest of the van oblivious to the weight of everything that passed between you two last night. You shift a little, feeling his thighs under you, and the memories flash through your head—the heat, the sex, the things you said and did. You wonder if he’s thinking about it too.

“You slept through everything,” he teases, his smile widening, though there’s a hint of something unspoken behind it.

You chuckle, adjusting slightly but still keeping your head on his lap. “Guess I was tired, hm?”

“Tired? You passed out,” he grins, his hand moving to gently fix your hair. “Had to dress you. Can’t have the crew thinking… well, y’know.”

Your face flushes a bit, imagining him trying to carefully dress you without waking you up. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” he says, his tone playful but gentle. There’s a pause, the kind that stretches just long enough to make you wonder what’s next, what happens after this.

You glance around at the others in the van, but it’s like they’re in their own worlds. No one’s paying attention, no one’s noticed how close the two of you are, how your head’s still in his lap, how his fingers are still brushing through your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You can get used to it, can't you?

[daistea]

(Def not King lurkin into your asks)

Saw that you take requests,,, 👀

What's your thoughts on a sexual relationship with Mithrun? I always get a little stumped with those requests, and you're just *chefs kiss* when it comes to your characterization of him

CRIES HELLO THANK U ILY

ummm tw: spoilers maybe? and nsfw

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Pre-Demon

Mithrun is a total slut, sorry.

That's not a bad thing, obviously, it's just what he is. I mean, he doesn't admit or acknowledge it. He has a very difficult time accepting his preferences. He's just a slut in denial.

That's all.

Pre-Ending, Post-Trauma

Mithrun hasn't had a real boner in forty years, sorry.

He has no interest in being intimate with anyone. He's really casual about the subject, though, because the Canaries--- sans Pattadol--- are pretty honest and open with each other. Shameless.

Fleki thinks he needs to get laid, but she doesn't care enough to push the subject.

Mithrun isn't emotionless, though. He's just preoccupied. His sex drive is extremely low at this point. However, he's observant enough about others to notice how you feel.

He'll have sex just for the sake of having it. He's kinda forgotten how it feels. And he still has pleasure receptors and nerves and all that nonsense. He can still physically react. You just have to do some work. He's not going to be super enthusiastic, but still consenting ofc

Mithrun is a total pillow princess at this point.

It's a bit calming, actually. Kind of therapeutic.

He's relatively quiet, but sometimes he can't help but exhale shakily, or groan. His touches are light. He's not very passionate. But sometimes he looks at you with these slightly dark expressions, as if he's considering something more. Something you don't quite understand.

Post-Canon

It starts out slowly. Mithrun doesn't immediately regain a sex drive. It needs cultivating.

The first time is really important. Depending on who you are and what you're like, it could range from soft and explorative, to rough and frantic.

Mithrun is a switch. I see a lot of depictions of him as a bottom, and I see that point of view, I really do. But I genuinely believe he'd work both roles. He would like to be dominant sometimes. Other times, he just wants to sit back and let the new feelings take over.

He likes being called a good boy.

He doesn't really enjoy the fact that he likes being called that. It's demeaning and it kind of makes him a little irritated, but holy crap does it set him on fire. 'Good boy' should only be invoked in the most passionate or rough of moments.

Mithrun can be rough when he feels like it. He can push you against a wall with the intent to make you forget your own name. He can leave bruises with how tightly he digs his fingers in. He bites, as always, but harder.

Speaking of biting, he'll usually bite your shoulder to keep himself from making much noise.

Mithrun wants to consume you entirely. He wants every inch of you. Your focus should be on him and him only. He likes hearing his name from your lips. Over and over. And he will often ask you who you belong to. He sounds calm in those moments, though, level-headed and scratchy as always, but there's a hint of expectance between his words.

He'll say it back, too, but in a very casual way, as if he doesn't quite understand why you want him to say that. Of course he's yours. Does it need to be acknowledged?

He has no shame, either. Anywhere, any time, if he wants it then he'll initiate it. He only pulls you into private alleys or closets because he knows that's what you prefer.

When you take charge, he enjoys that too. He likes looking up at you, taking in the view, letting his hands wander.

Whether he's top or bottom really depends on his mood.

If he's feeling especially jealous or possessive, he leaves a lot of marks.

He likes praise. He doesn't really give it back, though.

He's not very talkative during the deed, but if you talk often he'll just end up clamping a hand over your mouth.

He enjoys wrapping his fingers around your neck. He doesn't really like that in return, though.

No mirror sex.

He really likes oral. He can be a little selfish with it, actually.

Mithrun isn't a sadist LOL but he does like to tie you up sometimes and leave you hanging. It also depends on how you are as a person and what your dynamic is like.

If he's not in a dominant mood, he's a pillow princess again. Those are the days when he's not feeling as much, when he's not as locked in to his desires. Or, when he's just mentally or physically tired.

No matter what mood, he still needs a lot of care and affection. He needs every ounce of your focus.

He doesn't provide much aftercare. You're the one doing that, no matter who topped. But he eventually learns a bit and starts kinda reciprocating out of sheer habit, because he knows it would make you happy.

As I always say, Mithrun stares a lot. His gaze follows you everywhere, and he'll never get tired of the sight of your body.

He sorta passes out afterwards. It's one of the rare times when he doesn't need a sleep spell. He often will just pass out on top of you.

In general, he's a switch and how he acts is highly dependent on his mood for the day. He needs a lot of attention and affection, and likes to mark you up. He lacks shame, he'll initiate it anywhere. He's relatively quiet, but breathy. Sometimes, he touches you like you're porcelain about to crack. Other times, he manhandles you like a rag doll and does whatever he pleases. If you're able to, manhandle him in return, he'll probably get a little pissy with you but it's still funny.

:0 !

★・・・・・・★

[whereslynx]

Stepping in for Oscar “Spooky” Diaz.

pov: mothering a child who isn’t yours isn’t easy, especially if it’s the leader of the santos’ younger brother; you’d know, you’ve been doing it since the end of your high school years. but for oscar — god, for that man, you’d do anything.

PART 2 (LINK)

a/n: holy crap i was gonna make this a oneshot but i got carried away, so part 2 will be posted soon 😭🙏 this is basically context for part 2 skajjadhsjsh. anyway i hope yall are liking these idk, i got sad when i noticed that nobody was really writing omb anymore cause i rewatched it recently lmaoooo. req some stuff if you guys want, i don’t mind!!

☽✶•┈┈┈•◦❥◦•┈┈┈•✶☾

☽✶•┈┈┈•◦❥◦•┈┈┈•✶☾

To the world, he was Spooky. But to you, when those doors were closed and the night was young, he was Oscar. Your Oscar. The Oscar that you met in High School before he dropped out to aid not only the Santo legacy, but his younger brother, Cesar. And you knew how much he loved Cesar. If anything would’ve happened to him, Oscar would’ve burnt the world down with the fire of his own wrath. You knew this by the countless nights you two spent together whilst youse were still young. There wasn’t a hangout where he’d not mention Cesar once or twice, who at the time, was only a child. He’d tell you of the struggles that came with raising his younger brother with absent parents and having to lead the Santos at the same time, and how he feared that Cesar would recognise how broken his home truly was at such a young age. All you could do was plant sweet kisses along his neck and whispers of assurance that he was doing his best, in hopes of easing him of the burdens he was forced to carry.

So when he got caught up, restrained by those metal cuffs that took him away from the life he had tried so hard to keep together, he trusted you to look out for Cesar.

But you were just as lost as the child he left you with. You had just graduated high school one to two years ago, hardly making it by with the struggles of working as many shifts as you could at the local joint— and now you have a little boy to take care of. The weight of being freshly new to adulthood was dragging you down. You were anxious and frustrated that Oscar threw away everything and made you handle the aftermath. But putting your own feelings aside, you knew that Cesar felt exactly the same, maybe even worse.

He was fine during the day. The Santos would come by to ensure you and Cesar were well equipped, following Oscar’s strict orders to check up on you two now and then. You noticed that Cesar would search for Oscar in the crowds of the Santo men who sat on their porch and in their front yard, getting a bit agitated when he couldn’t spot him. It was only thanks to Sad Eyes who would often keep Cesar distracted from Oscar’s absence, occasionally bringing him a treat from the dairy around the corner or chatting to him about school, earning a silent but appreciative nod from you to which he’d smile in return.

But Cesar at night was a different story. It’d drive you silently insane when he’d cry for Oscar before his bed time, knowing that he missed his older brother as much as you did. His cries would echo across the hall, waking you from your sleep in Oscar’s room. Peeking your head into Cesar’s room, he’d be sobbing for the man who raised him. It broke your heart knowing that Oscar’s sentence was far from finished, which meant there were only so many more nights that young Cesar would spend crying for his older brother. Nights like those would end with you sleeping in Cesar’s room, holding him in your arms and cooing him to sleep with promises that Oscar would come home to youse one day until fatigue took you both to sleep.

You were blessed to say that it got easier as the years went by. You had a stable position at your job, and Cesar was already a teenager who followed the values you taught him. At this point, you were the boy’s mother, taking care of him not just because of the love you have for Oscar, but because of the love you have for him as well. For once, life felt lighter.

Cesar sat at the kitchen table, his gaze snapping to you as you pulled him out of his thoughts. “What’s wrong, mijo?” You asked, placing a plate of breakfast down for him with a curious look on your face. “Ah, nothing, I just—“ He mumbled, staring at his plate, “Oscars getting out soon.” he thought aloud.

With a raised brow, you sat down next to him, “Mhm, I thought you’d be excited that your brother is coming home. I remember how you wouldn’t stop crying for him when you were little.” you laughed, concern lurking in your eyes as you noticed how he clenched his jaw, he was tense at the thought.

“Hey,” you mumbled, putting your hand over his as he hesitantly turned to you, “I know you haven’t seen Oscar in such a long time. But everything will be fine. I promise.” you offered a reassuring smile, trying to read his expression for any chance of understanding. A short silence followed before he nodded, returning a half-smile and giving your hand a soft squeeze as a silent thanks. “You’re right, sorry. Reality’s just setting in, I guess.” He nervously chuckled, finally picking up his fork and eating his food.

Your soft smile never faltered, “It’s fine, eat your food and don’t be late to school. Tell Ruby and Jamal I said hi.” you reminded him, getting up from the table and walking to Oscar’s room— which at this point, was yours until he came home.

Sitting on the bed, you sighed, biting your lip in thought. You knew Cesar didn’t know what to expect with Oscar coming home, he never really did well with change. His overthinking remaining testament to it all. But although you were reassuring him, not even you knew what to expect. ‘Surely everything would be okay. Right? Cesar will be fine, safer even.’ You thought.

Right?

[pilfappreciator]

Did another oopsie and accidentally deleted another ask (*bangs head on table*) BUT HOPEFULLY THE LOVELY ANON WHO SENT IT SEES THIS!!

DADZONE & Child! Reader: John Dory

Includes: GN! Reader, Child! Reader, Adopted! Reader, accidental DILF John Dory, slight angst

TW: mention of spiders and body horror near the end (nothing too graphic but just in case)

🥽 This man doesn't trust himself enough not to fuck up another meaningful relationship ://

🥽 Personally, how I see it, becoming a father is probably the last thing on JD's to-do list. I mean he's definitely got the skills (being the oldest of five and having to raise his brothers means he's picked up a few things), and I like to think that it's something he longs for deep down, but considering how BADLY he fumbled with his brothers the last time they were all in the same room...

🥽 So yeah. In theory would be SO down to start a family of his own, but in practice?? He is EXTREMELY hesitant

🥽 THAT BEING SAID!! Chances are he probably found you as an egg

🥽 He was out one day, hiking out in the forest or exploring coastal coves or rock climbing, when all of a sudden he just… stumbles across an egg. Just sitting there in a patch of moss or nestled into a log

🥽 Ends up taking the egg with him back to Ronda, but not before an actual HOUR of confused staring? Distressed pacing back and forth?? Panicked rambling all the while???

🥽 (the fact that Ronda tried to eat the egg upon his return doesn't help at all)

🥽 John Dory spends the next month or so visiting nearby troll villages and asking anyone who crosses his path "Hey man did you drop this? 😬"

🥽 In the end he decides to take you in himself. Partly because he's gotten tired of all the looks other trolls keep giving him for trying to force an egg into their hands, and also because he… may have grown attached to said egg in the past few weeks. I mean by the end of day 3 he'd already given you a name so you know he's screwed ahsjkakaa

🥽 He tells himself he's taking you in because it's what any good citizen would do (He is a lair. He is 100% doing it for himself)

🥽 The day you hatch is LITERALLY one of the best days of his life? Like he's just making himself some dinner and suddenly he hears crackling coming from his hair?? And then there's babbling???

🥽 This man is going about his day with you nestled in his hair (basically the troll equivalent to carrying a baby on your hip lol). He's choppin trees, foraging for food, and driving his armadillo van all while he's got an actual egg sitting on his head. Absolutely talks to you the whole time, too. He has no idea if you can actually hear him but like.. this man spent the last 20 years all alone in the woods, okay, his ass is lonely :((

🥽 Yknow that thing parents do where they hold up headphones to a woman's womb and play Mozart or whatever to make the baby "smarter" or some shit?? Yeah that's JD. He's doing the same thing to his egg

🥽 no Mozart tho ONLY BROZONE 😤😤 HIS BABY HAS GOTTA HAVE GOOD TASTE AND NOTHING LESS

🥽 If he's really feeling himself then he'll sing the songs himself. And then proceed to give unprompted lore behind the lyrics and the songs "true meaning" (songs include Brozone classics such as Baby Boy Got My Heart In A Headlock Boy and Baby Baby Love You Like A Pizza But Hate You Like There's Pineapple On It Babe)

🥽 "holy crap YOU'RE SO SMALL—"

🥽 UGLY CRYING HOLDING YOU IN THE CROOK OF HIS ARM CARESSING YOUR SOFT LITTLE FACE WITH HIS FINGER

🥽 Will die if you reach for him with your tiny baby hands or just smile up at him

🥽 He's still gonna carry you around in his hair while he goes about his day and stuff ngl. Like for him, it's a signature of your guys' bond and you bet your ass he's gonna be milking it for as long as he can (definitely dreads the day you become too big/old for it)

🥽 Most definitely tries to teach you survival skills as soon as possible. He's teaching you how to fish, he's demonstrating how to start a fire with the bare essentials, he's letting you DRIVE RONDA—

🥽 "It's an important skill to have, champ, trust me!"

"...but I'm only five."

"Never too early for a learner's permit!"

🥽 Defnitely tries to reel in that controlling/perfectionist mindset of his, at least for your sake. The last thing he wants is a repeat of what went down with his brothers. As a result he's probably more lenient when you get into trouble or do something wrong

🥽 Fr tho like... you'll accidentally(?) cause an explosion and his ass will be standing, hands on his hips like "I'm not mad, just disappointed 🤨"

🥽 You thought you were getting spoon fed Brozone content as an egg?? Well congrats on being born cuz now you're getting served Brozone content for BREAKFAST 👏 DINNER 👏 AND 👏 LUNCH

🥽 JDs most definitely the type of guy to break into song whenever he's doing the most mundane of tasks (laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc), and yes he fully expects you to join in and know all the lyrics helloooo?? You've basically been raised on Brozone songs at this point like cmon, don't leave him hanging!

🥽 FR THO!! If you grow up to be a Brozone stan, he's never gonna be more proud of himself <33

🥽 This man definitely has a physical collection of every song/album/cover his band has ever done (I'm mean this is the same guy who kept his brothers underwear in a frame for 20 years so ://). He treats every CD, record, cassette tape, etc. like the priceless artifacts they are and YES, HES GONNA PASS THEM ONTO YOU LIKE THEYR FAMILIY HEIRLOOMS DID YOU EXPECT ANY LESS

🥽 If you grow up to lean more towards a different genre of music or Brozone just doesn't end up being your cup of tea... JDs gonna be a lil devastating ngl

🥽 Pls assure him that he has not failed as a father

🥽 Jokes aside tho! I feel like despite his wounded ego, JD will at least TRY to see your point of view. I mean he's definitely gonna be a bit of a grandpa about it—

*while the two of you are listening to your favorite song*

"I mean, I GUESS it's okay... not nearly as lyrically genius as Brozone's hit single: Baby Girl Ur Sweet Like A Milkshake Girl But I'm Lactose Intolerant Baby 🙄"

"Dad. Please shut up."

—but rest assured that he WILL support you and your music taste <33

🥽 You want merch of your favorite band/artist? No worries he's (stealing it right off the shelf) got money to pay for it! Is there a new album about to drop? He's (breaking into a store in the middle of night like a rabid racoon) patiently waiting in line just to buy it for you! You wanna go to a concert? He's using Ronda to (break speed limits, run people over, disobey every known traffic rule) get good parking at the venue!!

🥽 SPEAKING OF CONCERTS!! I feel like he'd be able to offer solid advice on the do's and don'ts of attending a concert. Like... my guy was in a popular band back in the day and he knows first hand how outta hand concerts can get. He has SEEN some shit ajskskaka

🥽 JD definitely has a photo album full of pictures from back in the day. Some of them are snapshots of him and the rest of Brozone, but a majority of the pictures are just of him and his family— away from the stage and cameras. Just him and his brothers and grandma Rosiepuff too...

🥽 He remembers the exact moment every picture was taken, and he'll tell you every bit of context. Birthday, pranks gone wrong, holidays, first day of school— there's a snapshot for just about every milestone. All you have to do is ask and JD is more than happy to relay every childhood anecdote he can remember

🥽 It gets to the point where you eventually know just about everything about your uncles... WHO YOU HAVE NEVER EVEN MET YET AKSKSKAKAK

🥽 It's definitely something that freaks them out once you finally DO meet them

🥽 Like you'll have a conversation with Clay and they'll be like "yeah I'm not a big fan of spiders haha" and you just go "Oh that makes sense considering you used to have vivid nightmares about them crawling under your skin and tickling you to death" and Clay's just like "how the fuck did you know that????"

🥽 "Dude stop telling your kid everything about us"

"I haven't seen you guys in 20 years! I just wanted them to feel close to their uncles ;(("

"THEY DONT NEED TO KNOW ABOUT HOW I USED TO PICK MY NOSE WHEN I WAS SEVEN"

🥽 John Dory, Older Brother Who Overshares About His Younger Siblings my beloved <33

Ermmm yeahhhh this was originally gonna be one big post including ALL the brothers... but then I started writing for JD and got carries away... so yeah this ask is gonna have to be a multi-parter AJSJSJAKKA SORRY ANON I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF 🤥

NEXT PARTS ARE IN THE WORKS!!

Bruce | Clay | Floyd | Branch

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Title: Fallen Leaves

Warning(s): None

Characters: Bruce Wayne and F!Reader

PROMPT in bold, credit to @ thatdammchickennugget

Song mentioned is by Wallows. I attached the link just in case you don’t know the song or the band. It doesn’t go with this story, nor does it have to be played while reading. (just like a movie)

Freshly fallen leaves crunched underneath your feet, as you walked through the park. A lot had been on your mind; a sociology test and cramming in late night study sessions, what you were going to order out, and Bruce Wayne.

All three of these things were important, but Bruce Wayne trumped them all. He was just another boy in your sociology class—until he wasn’t. A friendship had blossomed, and before you knew it, he was at your family’s home almost every night.

You had your own apartment, but came home for family dinner. Once your mom found out he was the well known Bruce Wayne, she had to have him over dinner. “Oh honey, don’t let that boy go home alone to eat! Invite him over, and invite his butler Alfred too. There’s plenty of food to go around.” She would say almost on a daily basis.

Bruce had quickly became a family favorite guest. He was more than a guest at this point; he was family. He fit in with your siblings, and your parents adored Bruce. At one point or another, his father and your father were good business partners.

But yours and Bruce’s paths had never crossed until the beginning of the semester. Then before you knew it, the two of you were inseparable. Classmates to friends, friends to best friends, and now? You didn’t know what to call what the two of you had.

Things had gotten awkward, the slightest “accidental” touch of each other’s hands would send you both spiraling. You couldn’t speak for Bruce, but late night study sessions at Wayne Manor had changed. The thought of the two of you being alone in his study- near the fire, lying haphazardly across one another, made your heart race. Maybe it was just you. Maybe you were the only one who felt that way.

You continued to walk through the park clenching the sleeves of your sweater in your fists, trying to keep warm. Your thoughts were interrupted by Bruce jumping in front of you, “Boo!” With a swat of your hand, you smacked Bruce’s shoulder.

“I hate it when you do that!” You exclaimed and he handed you a hot, pumpkin spice latte that he had retrieved from a nearby coffee cart. You accepted the hot beverage, and wrapped your cold, shaky hands around the warmth of the cup.

“You’re so easy to scare. Always on edge, and always deep in thought. A penny for your thoughts?” He asked, and you blew into the small hole of the cup. ‘Not anything I can share with you’ you thought to yourself.

You took a small sip and sighed, “Just homework. Thanks for the coffee by the way, B.”

Bruce smiled as he held his own drink to his lips. “Why don’t we go to my place instead. I’m cold, and the fireplace in the study is calling my name.” He said, and you stopped dead in your tracks. “How could I sit with him the entire night without thinking of him as more than a friend?” Holy crap, you admitted it to yourself. Bruce was indeed more than just a friend. Feelings ran deep- deeper than you expected.

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded, taking another drink of your coffee, trying to play it cool. He kept staring at your hair, “You’ve got a leaf in your hair…” Bruce said, and your hand raced to your hair, smoothing it out and trying to comb your fingers through your hair. “Here. Let me get it.” Bruce said as he sat his coffee on a nearby bench.

His hand rested on your shoulder, and he gently untangled the leaf out of the strands of your hair. Bruce’s face was inches away from yours.

You felt like a deer caught in head lights- your eyes stared at his lips and then up into his dark brown eyes. Bruce looked into your eyes, and you could’ve sworn he looked at your lips. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear; his cool finger tips brushed your cheek, making you shiver.

“There, I got it.” He said quietly, breaking the silence. A shout of a nearby child made you both jump and back away from one another.

Bruce cleared his throat, “Did you, uh, want to come back to my place to study? We can order in a pizza or something? Alfred won’t be home tonight.”

You smiled and nodded, “Sure. Sounds fun.” But on the inside, you were freaking out.

——

The drive to Wayne Manor was quiet, and it had gotten even more quiet when the two of you had entered through the front door. Bruce shrugged his coat off and hung it on the coat rack, and you followed in suit.

It wasn’t long before Bruce called in the pizza, and the two of you were sitting on the couch studying. Your legs laid across his lap while he read the assigned reading to the chapter over Karl Marx.

A song by Wallows (Just Like a Movie) played quietly in the background, and you hummed to the music. The sound of Bruce’s pen scribble on a piece of paper made you turn your attention to him. Reading glasses were balanced on the bridge of his nose, and the pen gently tapped against his lips- he was cute when he was focused.

The sound of his voice startled you, and you quickly tore you gaze from him. “Do you mind checking the last page of my notes? I feel like I am missing something or I wrote something down wrong.” He pushed up his glasses and gave you a small smile.

“Y-yeah. I’ll compare them to my notes.” You say as you took his notebook and started skimming through the notes. On the last page, you caught what he was missing, ‘Karl Marx = conflict theory’ you said as you wrote it down on the paper. You sat the pen down on the coffee table, and handed Bruce the notebook. His eyes were on you, and he had a small smile on his face, “What? Is there something on my face?” Your hands raced to your face, and Bruce gently shook his head.

Your heart skipped a beat and his brown eyes observed you, and his fingers gently tucked the same piece of hair behind your ear. His thumb moved against your cheek, and he started inching closer to you. “Is this okay?” He whispered, his lips were ghosting over yours.

You nodded, and his bottom lip tickled yours. The tip of his nose brushed yours, and you could feel him breathe a shaky breath in. The doorbell rang, making you both jump from one another. “That must be the pizza.” Bruce said as he raced from the study. Your hands ran over you face, and you sat back on the couch trying to catch your breath. Shit. We almost kissed! Slowly, you practiced inhaling and exhaling. These were the things Bruce could do you- you forgot how to breathe when he was around.

Then panic sat in, what was going to happen when he came back in? Were the two of you going to pretend nothing happened? How awkward were things going to get? You jumped to your feet and started pacing back and forth, the thought of jumping out the window and leaving all your stuff behind did enter your mind. But before you could race over to the window, Bruce came back into the study, and before you could stop yourself, word vomit spewed from your mouth.

“Bruce there is something I have to tell you.Ihavehadfeelingsforyouforafew monthsnow and I don’t want to ignore what just almost happened.” You said quickly, and Bruce’s hands went to your face. He pulled you close to his body and pressed his lips against yours.

You sighed and relaxed against his touch; his lips felt natural against yours. Bruce’s hands went from your cheeks, down to your hips, and your hands raced up to his hair, bringing him closer to your body.

Feelings were being reciprocated, and when Bruce pulled away, all you could do was try to catch your breath. “I’ve had feelings- for you too.” He said, and all you could say was: “I’m glad I didn’t try to jump out the window.”

Bruce looked at you with a confused grin, then at the window, “You were- you were gonna jump out the window? Why?” He questioned and the two of you burst into laughter. “Because I panicked. I was scared we were going to pretend that kiss didn’t happen, and my plan was to jump out that window…” you said, and Bruce raised an eyebrow at you. “What?! It seemed like a good idea at the time!” You said and Bruce pressed another kiss to your lips.

“I’m glad you didn’t, because that window is six feet off the ground and Alfred had rose bushes planted there.” He said, and the two of you started laughing again.

By the end of the night, you were glad you didn’t jump out the window. Mainly because of the rose bush, but also because you wouldn’t have gotten the chance to kiss Bruce.

——————

I think my seasonal depression is over. I thrive in the fall months, what about you? I hope you guys enjoyed the short x reader! I am hoping to get some Halloween readers out as well!

XOXO

[nothankyou543]

Leo Valdez x child of Poseidon reader

Percy is your older brother, you came to camp a month after the war with Kronos and in that time you and Percy got really close

so obviously you were devastated when he went missing

you and annabeth are frantically searching for him in between days of on and off crying

One day she goes searching and you see other people with her you run up thinking one might be percy

its not. Three new demigods are standing in front of you

the first is TALL like skyscraper tall with blonde hair and blue eyes

the second a girl with choppy brown hair and changing eyes standing next to…a child?

At first you didn’t see the third person because he was on his knees panting

he looked like he just ran a 5k

he looked up and holy crap

he has curly brown hair that’s soaked from the lake, with the most beautiful brown eyes youve ever seen

you blush and look towards annabeth who looks at you questioningly

“I’m guessing you didn’t find him” you say solemnly “ no, I’m sorry” you nodded and started to walk back to cabin 3

you can’t stop thinking about the boy you saw

on the other side of things when Leo first saw you all his cheesy pock up line evaporated

he was at a lost for words as a beautiful girl with h/c hair and e/c eyes stared down at him

her face looked like she’d been crying and he had the urge to comfort her but he didn’t even know her name

he turned to annabeth and said “ who was that” she answered saying “ that’s y/n, Percy’s little sister, she’s been a mess since he disappeared

fast forward to after the tour and the claiming to the camp fire

you see the boy from before sitting with Hephaestus cabin so he must have gotten claimed

he looks up at you and you look away

when you look back he is walking towards you

he stops and says “ hi I’m Leo, but you can call me Super Sozed McShizzle”

that made you laugh which was the first time you had laughed in months

The rest goes as follows

“I’m y/n”

“ I couldn’t help but notice that you look a little sad, wanna talk about it”

”not really” you say getting up

you walk back towards your cabin

you didn’t mean to be rude but you felt like you were gonna cry again and you didn’t want to do that in front of everybody

you get back to your cabin and cry yourself to sleep

the next morning a knock wakes you up

when you answer there’s no one there but a rose is on your doormat along with a note

dear y/n I know your bummed about Percy and a little birds told me you like flowers you I took a wild guess at your favorite. - secret admire

you were stunned that anyone would do something so nice for you but the only thing you could think about was that they were probably still there

as a joke you say “ for reference f/f if my favorite flower”

you smile at the joke you made and go back inside

in truth you did feel a lot better now knowing someone cared

also how did he know you liked flowers?

switch perspective

leo had the grin of a mad man on his face

He gave y/n a rose and learned what her favorite flower was He felt like he was making progress at trying to talk with her

in truth he had no idea if she liked flowers or not he just went with it

ok I’m running out of room I’ll post part 2 on my profile comment anything you want to see

[freshwarrior757]

Played Class of 09 Flip Side last week...man, that sucked

I was honestly given high hopes for The Flip Side, and since my Class of 09 drawing that I made for Flip side is getting a lot of likes, I figured I'd make a post reviewing the game.

Pros:

The voice acting was incredible. Kayli Mills really gave her all in the therapy scenes, I actually felt heartbroken for her.

The FYE route was good up until the end...I'll talk about that in a bit.

The 7 seconds part was pretty funny.

Trody is still best boi

Emo Jecka

The Hatman

The Nicole Suicide route was one of the biggest requests for the Flip Side, and at least he listened to the fans on that. It was even more awfully crushing when seen from Jecka's perspective.

That's about all the good. Now the bad:

The foot stuff. That was like, a third of the game, and it was barely even funny the first time. If they were gonna do something like this, the least they could have done was not show the actual foot stuff taking place. In The Re-up, they didn't show Nicole having sex with men as a MySpace escort, and it honestly made the point even better (I'll talk more about this later). It's pretty obvious that SBN3 was just putting his fetish in to spite people.

The Dad was just tiring. I mean, his character was a good depiction of an abuser, but the joke honestly just got boring. It's like SBN3 saw how popular the "I WANNA FUCKING KILL MY WIFE" scene was, and decided to make that joke an entire character.

The jokes just felt off. The edginess was there, but it was all edge, no point. The "Flip a coin" scene was funny, as was the "7 seconds" scene and some others, but it kinda felt like SBN3 just got burnt out, or he fired his ghostwriter (I don't doubt that he wrote the game, but I'm pretty sure he had some help with some of the jokes).

The FYE Route had a bizarre-ass ending after all that good buildup.

Crispin did nothing but get insulted the whole game, even when he tried to help Jecka.

Mr. Katz became a pedophile because SBN3 didn't like the fact that Reddit liked him. He was one of the only male teachers who wasn't a pedophile, he was just a crackhead. But they had to massacre his character too.

The characters felt kinda...out of character. Nicole HATES men, like absolutely DESPISES them. She engages with men to manipulate them, and she only engaged in sexual acts with men when she was homeless, on drugs, and had literally no other options. She would never willingly try to have sex with a 50 year old man.

Also, she didn't get mad at Jecka for refusing to let her stay at her house when she was homeless, and she didn't get mad when Jecka refused to help her get revenge on Megan, or sell crack, or do some of the other stuff. But you're telling me she's gonna engage in sexual acts with her father because...Jecka didn't cut Nicole in on one of her jobs?! People may point to the Megan route in The Re-up, but Megan was a bitch to her for most of their interactions, whereas Jecka was Nicole's only real friend. Plus, she just asked Hunter for dick pics, she didn't actually try to have sex with him like she did with Jecka's dad.

To add on to this: The FYE Route had like, the weirdest and worst ending: Being sex trafficked by the Taliban. The other games were believable, even if the White Supremacist ending was kinda exaggerated. But holy crap, this made no sense.

Nicole gets kicked out by her mom and has to resort to selling her body? It's pretty fucked up, but it's really happened to people. Jecka finds out that FYE has a massive illegal porn stash they use to keep men in control, and gets sold to the Taliban as a sex slave to keep her quiet? It makes zero sense.

To add on to the last two things: The endings were not good. They were:

Jeffery OD's and Jecka becomes more toxic as a result of relying on Nicole

Nicole has "foot-sex" with Jecka's dad, and Jecka kills herself

Jecka drunk-drives and kills Ari

Nicole commits suicide, leaving Jecka all alone

Jecka gets sold to the Taliban, and Kelly fucking dies.

I mean seriously. Even the past two games had SOME good endings: Nicole becomes a YouTuber, Nicole becomes Valedictorian, Nicole graduates and becomes a better person, Nicole exposes a racist teacher...this game just felt like torture porn of Jecka.

I swear to God this anime better get picked up by Prime or Netflix or something like that, cuz I'll be damned if the series dies like this.

[lensman-arms-race]

Episode 77 part 3 and 4

(I was going to make a post with parts 3 and 4, but ran into the Tumblr image limit! I'll make another post about part 4.)

Previously: Episode 77 part 1, Episode 77 part 2

DFB has given us TV-simps some delicious food!! And I had five asks about this! Spoilers under the cut.

Pile of asks:

Anonymous:

Now that episode 77 is done what do you think is the 'plot twist'? I found 'hardware heads were human' from part 2 to be a lot more shocking than G-Man helping The Alliance.

@some-girl-i-guess-1

Did you see the new episode? What are your thoughts about it?

@gamie99

I love reading your episode reviews because you always have so much to say! And I'm sure you have SO many thoughts about this one, because HOLY COW.

Anonymous:

The latest part of the episode was pretty crazy what did you think about it? What do you think will occur in the full episode?

@love-draw-fanart

After watching 77 part 4, I started imagining Titan-TV fighting with his ghost if his body was destroyed 🤣🤣🤣🤣 very, veryyyyyy "you can't kill the death"

Part 3:

I'm a little disappointed that Cam Matriarch appears to have lost her tortoise mode + flechette cannon, because that was what made me love her in the first place! The flying cannon replacement is pretty cool... but it's sad how all the cute robots are becoming badass rather than cute.

Wonder what the 'there are 3 Polycephalies' crowd will have to say about this? Will they think there are 2 Cam Matriarchs?

The distant 'hee hee' at this point was funny as hell! I do love how Boom breaks up tension with funny parts like this.

Not only has Cam Matriarch inherited Plunk's weapons, but also his idiot ball, apparently. Mate, you can't defeat that bastard, he's like a fucking battleship.

See, TV Matriarch agrees with me... Wait... there's absolutely no need for TV Matriarch to put her hand on Cam Matriarch's boob - she's copping a feel!

Also, holy crap, how have I only just noticed Cam Matriarch's goth boots?

Polycephaly, my beloved! And what an entrance! I swoon!

My earlier point about robots becoming badass but losing some of their cute appeal still stands. The head upgrades make sense tactically but they're uncute. And my boy's lost his cuddly tendrils! Now he's got Ass-tro tech bolted on him.

Also he looks goofy with his tie tucked into his trousers instead of his waistcoat. Boo.

There was a visual glitch at this point in which Buzzsaw's helmet temporarily despawned, but Boom appears to have fixed it.

"Someone is dying... and it's not me." OUGGGHHH HOLY CRAP!! Titan TV, my beloved!!

Also he flares out his back-spikes at this point and it's so good, hnnnngh.

Fuckin' no-sells the Astro projectiles.

Interestingly, Titan TV now appears to have the ability to fire off little 'pellets' of energy from his core instead of just a huge-ass blast (note hyphen position; that's huge-ass blast, not huge ass-blast).

After swiping away the Astro projectiles, Titan TV proceeds to get one of his monitor extensions chewed off. Oops. He seems strangely unbothered by this! It almost looks as though he turns his head towards the Astro to let it happen.

Excellent Astro grump face:

"Look at me!" (Okay, but why didn't you do that before Matey Boy bit your screen off?)

Goddamn, I love what Boom does with Toilet expressions; they're hilarious!

Decapitation!

Unfortunately, some other fucker arrives and manages to both deplete the Titan's back-spikes and smash his main screen.

The Astro strider appears to break the Titan's screen by getting behind his head and then suddenly pushing his head forward. Did the Titan's screen break on his own core-spikes? Or just from the stress on his head-casing?

The Titan does appear to catch the Astro in his back-spikes (and then fling the Astro away), which presumably is how the Astro breaks some of the spikes off.

"Your Titan wouldn't want you to die meaninglessly. Leave, while you still can." TVs are rude fuckers but they do still care about their comrades! That's why I love them best.

This prick shows up. I get the feeling they were muttering 'If you want something done right, do it yourself'. This Astro fights more competently than the last two.

Fortunately, Titan TV is saved from total annihilation by the Cams firing a shot from their tank, which buys the Titan enough time to counter-attack... and say a very curious line.

"You can't kill the dead!"

Is this just trash-talking, or an actual lore drop?? "I'll show you what the other side looks like!"

Is this an implication that TVs come from dead humans (or believe that they do)? Maybe TVs believe that they're already dead, because the state of the world is so shitty that it must be already Hell?

Or maybe this is just like Pete Weber, who got so excited bowling that he ended up saying "Who do you think you are? I am! Dammit right!"

Either way, we're treated to one of the most brutal deaths in the series, in which Titan TV crushes the Astro's head in his bare hands.

Polycephaly comforts the dying Cam who managed to fire the distracting shot. "You did well, lil bro." My heart!

"We teleported everyone to base." Except POV Cam, because they smell.

Also where's your head-turrets? (I hope Boom puts them back in the full episode.)

Titan TV is wrecked but is still spoiling for a rumble. Part 3 ends with him calling out the arriving Astros as 'pathetic trash' and demanding to fight Juggernaut. (One detail I liked here is that we hear the rhythmic clanking sound of Titan TV's core claws, rotating but no longer smoothly. It's rather like the ominous ticking of a clock signalling impending doom.)

Wait... if he has no working TV screens, he's not Titan TV Man. He's just Titan Man. Ehehe.

It's a little surprising how 2-dimensional these fights are - as in the characters stay in one plane close to the ground, even though they can all fly. I suppose we'd have to wait even longer between episodes if Boom had to choreograph swooping aerial fights!

[katyawriteswhump]

The freak in the penthouse part 4.1

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve.

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse

On AO3

4.1 Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen

After they got out of the plunge pool, Eddie ordered champagne. It arrived mega fast. Steve grabbed the ice-bucket and said, “Balcony?”

He was gone before Eddie could answer. Eddie sheathed himself in his bathrobe as a surrogate comfort blanket. He braced himself to follow Steve somewhere he’d not been for several weeks.

The not-so-great outdoors.

Still, it wasn’t like Eddie was moseying into a packed mall. He took a drag of the stellar-quality Gamja Dustin had sent over and shuffled out. Steve handed him champagne, and he took a nerve-steadying sip.

“Holy shit!” shouted Eddie. “Check out that sunset.” 

“It’s wild. This place pisses all over the Carlton Ritz.” Steve levelled at Eddie’s side, leaning with his elbows on the balustrade. He wore only his tiny hotpants, which nearly distracted Eddie from a renewed fizz of unease:

“You get around, don’t ya, big boy? Worked in all the best hotels?”

Steve shrugged, fixing on the shimmering Hollywood Hills.

“Want a joint?” asked Eddie.

“I’ll pass.” Instead, Steve grabbed a strawberry from a bowl he’d dumped on a nearby sunbed. He tossed it in the air, catching it in his mouth.

Eddie grinned like an idiot. “I totally didn’t order those.”

“They come with the champagne.” Steve dabbed a red juicy smudge from his chin. “They bring out the flavor. Try it.”

He pressed a strawberry to Eddie’s lips, and Eddie wasn’t gonna refuse entry. He bit the strawberry and washed it down with champagne. Steve hadn’t lied—the flavor partied, sweet and sour and fizzy on his tongue. With a smirk, Steve popped another strawberry in his own mouth, then leaned forward for Eddie to bite it.

The kiss was inevitable. Eddie ditched his wine and even his joint, wrapped his arms around Steve, and clung. Steve aced the kiss, clinging too, fingers hooking so tight in Eddie’s hair they tangled and tugged.

Yup, he’s fantastic at making you believe he wants you.

Steve was also making Eddie forget himself, which was cool, cool, cool. They wound up having a dumbass strawberry fight, spattering them across the balcony, smearing them all over Steve’s torso and both their faces. Then they ate the taste out of each other’s mouths while dry rutting on a sunbed. With Steve gyrating on top of him, Eddie soon had a blockbuster erection again… and Steve?

His mask slipped a little when they broke for air. He actually shuddered, and that’s when Eddie felt the goosebumps as he stroked at Steve’s nape.

“You cold?” asked Eddie.

“No way,” said Steve. “It’s only September.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire, thought Eddie. At least it hadn’t been an involuntary shudder of revulsion.

A cool breeze cleaved between them, and Steve shuddered again.

“Wanna go back inside?” asked Eddie. “There’s a pigeon after the strawberries and I swear it’s hexing me with its manic pink eyes.”

Eddie led the way. Steve had already followed before Eddie realised that he’d gone in a different door from the one they came out through. The door that led to the room that he often avoided. The one where he piled the crap he didn’t want to think about, and the one with—

“You’re shitting me, man,” said Steve. “You’ve got a baby grand?”

“Yeeeah.”

“I didn’t even realise there was another room here.”

“Tell me about it. Seems I still get lost in my own penthouse. This is kinda my dump room.” 

Eddie started gathering up his notes from his game design and the probably-fake Hendrix guitar, which lay on the floor. He was considering reacquainting himself with his joint, when a neat chord sounded from the piano. Steve started to sing:

“It's a little bit funny 

This feeling inside

I'm not one of those who can easily hide

I don't have much money, but boy if I did

I'd buy a big house where we both could live—"

Steve’s voice cracked and he coughed briefly into his hand. “Shit! I broke your no music rule.”

Eddie snapped his gaping mouth shut. “No sweat.”

“Elton John not your poison?”

Eddie was still reeling. “I got every respect for the Rocket Man. ‘Your Song’ isn’t quite my kinda song, but… Shit, dude, it’s fine and you’re amazing. You can really belt it out—I’m envious—and where did you learn to tickle the ivories like that?”

“Learned as a kid.” Steve’s laugh was odd, brittle. “I sucked at reading music. Not much good when your parents want you classically trained.”

“They were uncool about it?”

Steve shook his head, slid across the piano stool to make room for Eddie. “They were always super-supportive. Always. They could never find a tutor who’d stick with their loser son.”

Steve sniffed, staring at the piano keys. Eddie was torn between feeling sorry for Steve and a smoldering curiosity to learn what happened to Steve’s “super-supportive” parents.

Only rich kids learned piano, right? Yet here Steve was…

Steve looked up sharply. “Let’s talk about you. Tonight’s all about you, Eddie-babes. Wanna share your rock-and-roll story? You finally gonna spill?”

“What?”

“You gotta be in a band.” Steve nodded at the guitar. “Let me guess. Had a fall-out with your bandmates? Artistic differences?” Eddie started grinding his teeth, and his knees jittered. “Or some other kind of musician? I mean, you got a piano here, dude… though I suppose it comes with the suite… Um, yeah, you don’t have to answer. I’ll zip it.”

Eddie realized he must be looking as pissed as he felt. Which Steve didn’t deserve. Eddie puffed out his cheeks:

“I was in a band. Corroded Coffin. We never hit the big time and I made my big bucks elsewhere—down to two other kids’ Einstein-like eggheads, and nothing to do with music or even lil’ ol’ me, really. No, I don’t play piano. I can mess around with a few chords, hit Middle C. That’s about it.”

“You’re pretty good at hitting my G… spot.” Steve’s hand slithered underneath Eddie’s bathrobe, zeroing in between his tense thighs. “I owe you a blowjob, man.”

Eddie lost his shit laughing. Steve’s dud-tastic smooth talking had totally melted the tension. Steve was stupid levels of nice as well as sexy af, and that was all that mattered. 

“From one loser to another,” said Eddie, blood shooting south, “I’m not gonna fight ya.”

part 4.2 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse

...

On ao3

Likes reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[bi-bard]

A Soul That's Born in Cold and Rain Knows Sunlight - Gar Logan [HBO's Titans]

Title: A Soul That's Born in Cold and Rain Knows Sunlight

Pairing: Gar Logan X Reader

Based On: Sunlight

Word Count: 1,623 words

Warning(s): mention of past trauma/medical experimentation

Summary: Living in the Caulder House didn't help (Y/n)'s view of the world. Cold and isolated, their view had refused to shift until they met Gar. It may have been accidental, but there was no denying how much Gar helped (Y/n) crawl out of the shadow.

Author's Note: Blame Shadow & Bone for the powers given to the reader.

WASTELAND, BABY! - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

----------------------

I never coped well with changes.

Not when my parents moved when I was little, not when I was sent away to see some strange "doctor" that I didn't know when I was a teenager, not when I suddenly found myself with powers that I couldn't understand or control, and definitely not when I was forced to stay in a house a bunch of strangers and the man that very much ruined my life.

After so much change, it was easier for me to disconnect. Why establish relationships when they would inevitably be ripped away from me?

The rest of the house left me alone.

To them, I was a moody teenager that would "adjust eventually".

I didn't. I hated it.

I was convinced that I always would.

And then, there was Gar.

The boy who I was almost convinced just had an IV of caffeine that he just pumped straight into his veins. He was excitable and curious and kind to the point that some part of me found it just as enraging as it was enduring.

Of all the people that he could latch onto, he seemed to choose me.

I don't know why. Even after all this time, I never figured it out and he would never answer me honestly when I asked.

I had seen his... trick on accident pretty soon after he moved in.

I largely ignored it like I had done with every other person in the house.

Until he showed up at my door.

"Hey," he waved awkwardly. "I noticed you run off after dinner, so I wanted to check on you."

It was crap and we both knew it. I always ran off after a meal. I had no interest in being part of the crowd longer than absolutely necessary. It was such a common occurrence that I was pretty sure someone started timing me.

"Can I..."

Gar pointed behind me.

I moved out of the way, deciding to get this over with because he would never give up if I didn't.

"Wow," he muttered as he walked into the room. "It's very... minimal."

"Decorations are a fire hazard," I replied. That's what the doc had told me when I first got here. "My powers are apparently too shaky to be trusted with a poster."

"What power is that," he asked. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, you saw what I could do. It's only fair that I see what you can do, right? Equal trade."

"I didn't mean to see your gift."

He shrugged. "You still did."

I took a deep breath before lifting my hand. I pressed my palms together before letting them open. A ball of light formed in my hands, truly looking like the equivalent of a small star. I wish I had been able to look at it with something other than disdain.

"Holy crap," Gar mumbled, staring at it.

I close my hands, snuffing out the light. "Is that all?"

"What was that?"

"The result of the doc's experiments."

"I kinda guessed that one," he replied. "What did he do?"

"I... I can't remember most of it. I was pretty sedated the whole time because I kept trying to fight him."

Gar shifted a bit, clearly a bit uncomfortable about the details around how I got here.

"He claimed that his experiments healed me and 'accidentally' made me more 'intensely in tune' to the universe," I put air quotes around 'accidentally' and 'intensely in tune' because I gave up seeing any purpose in the words that he said to me. "Now, I can... create sunlight... I guess that's what's happening."

"That's pretty cool."

"Said the green tiger," I muttered. "I don't want this. I never wanted any of this. If I could go back and stop him..."

I trailed off, closing my eyes.

Gar spoke up again, "You'd be dead."

I didn't respond to him. I didn't even look at him until I felt him awkwardly put his hand on mine.

"I... I know that you don't want to be here," he explained. "But I... I'm here if you want someone to talk to. Or hang out with. I have a pretty awesome set up in my room, so it'll keep you distracted if you need that and-"

He paused his rambling for a moment.

"I'll let you have some time alone," he concluded.

"Thanks," I replied.

He stood up and walked to the doorway. I laid down, pulling my blanket up over my shoulders.

"I mean it," he spoke. "I'm gonna make you happy here... at least a little."

"Yeah, good luck, Gar," I rolled over, hiding myself as best I could.

I should have never doubted his determination and stubbornness. That was my mistake.

That next morning, I woke up to Gar nervously tapping my shoulder in the hopes of not upsetting me too much.

He dragged me to the dining room. He stood there with a proud smile on his face while I looked at the table. He had managed to make breakfast for us without getting into any trouble. I couldn't help but grin. He had been so excited about the whole thing.

That was only one of the times that Gar dedicated to trying to make me happier.

He started spending more and more time with me in the Caulder house. He would invite me to sit in his room while he played video games. I'd watch quietly as he told me about the story and how the game worked and the voice actors. Anything he could think of.

If he wasn't giving me a lecture on the history of gaming, then we were just talking. Gar wasn't subtle when he tried to out details from my past. Even then, I found myself telling him more and more over time. He knew more about me than anyone else did. It was a weird feeling, but I kind of liked it.

As time went on, Gar started pushing me to take more and more risks. He had managed to talk me into sneaking out of the Caulder House. We had gone to get him a new video game a few times, gone to the arcade that he was obsessed with, and sometimes we just ran for the sake of it. We'd go hide in the trees and try to take in some fresh air.

I had never felt so at peace with someone before. I found myself looking at Gar and smiling, even though I had no reason to. Everyone in the house saw it... and enjoyed making jokes about it.

I was scared that when Rachel stumbled into our lives, Gar was going to leave me on my own. I didn't want to go back to what I had known before him. He shocked me by begging them to let me join them, promising that I would be a great addition to whatever team they were forming.

I joined as soon as I could.

Gar's pattern of trying to make me happier didn't stop when we left the house. He was still comforting me and talking to me. He encouraged me when I had to show the rest of them my power. He promised me that everything would be okay.

To put it simply, he did everything in his power to keep from letting the progress of his work from going backward.

He kept doing that... up until our confrontation with Trigon. Well, the first one.

That had been when I first kissed him.

I had just snapped out of whatever Trigon's spell was. I saw him in the grass and all I could do was run to him and hug him. The darkness had crept into my bones and had been trying to make a home there. It made me feel nauseous, knowing that I could so easily be dragged into that.

I had leaned back and cupped the sides of his face. I had no interest in ever losing that sunshine that I had been lucky enough to have been given.

I kissed him out of instinct.

He stared at me with wide eyes.

"Sorry," I muttered.

He shook his head. "Don't be."

I smiled at him.

Then, the next big change in my life happened.

We all moved into the Titan Tower.

I expected to be scared and angry. But I wasn't.

Instead, as I stood in the middle of that room, I found myself completely at peace. Like this was the right move for me. Like I was finally ready to put a few posters on the walls.

I took a deep breath, letting the environment of the room wash over me.

"(Y/n)."

I looked at Gar, who was now standing in my doorway. We didn't share a room because everything was new and we were young. He must've been trying to get my attention for a little while. His eyebrows were furrowed, and that worried frown was on his face.

"Are you alright," he asked.

I felt a grin spread across my face. "Yeah. I'm alright."

He walked over. "I know that change isn't your favorite-"

"I'm fine," I grabbed his hand. "Really. I... This change isn't as difficult as others have been. It's easier with you."

He smirked a bit and raised an eyebrow at me. "Is that right-"

"Shut up," I mumbled.

There was a brief moment before I moved forward and hugged him tightly. I relaxed a little bit more as he hugged me back.

I can't say what my life would have been if I had never met Gar. And I never wanted to picture that.

I was just grateful that I had him at all.

Nothing beyond that would ever matter to me.

----------------------

Author's Note: Can you tell that I really missed him these last two episodes?

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Navigation Guide

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Some Original Characters

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 97

Are they ... are they NOT doing a sponsorship plug this time? Just straight to the announcements? Interesting ... not complaining, mind ... more time for GAME, after all ...

Well then, so it's just STRIGHT INTO THE GAME, then ... okay then ... maybe that's a GOOD sign ... O.O

Yeah, that was A LOT of failed teleportations ...

Stright into an Initiative Roll ... wonderful ... cue Wizzkids plug!

An Essek sandwich? I wouldn't say no ... XD

Ashton's going to RAGE ... he charges in and just immediately starts swinging! Yeah, I should imagine 30 would hit ... and now he's been sprayed with acid blood! Of course he has ... and now it's STUCK TO HIS HAMMER!!! Fuck ... so he tries to BEAT IT OFF ... splat! Oh yeah, that just DESTROYED IT.

Great, they're swarming already ... might not have been the smartest move to just run staright into 'em, Ashton ... now they're going fot Laudna ... holy shit, Matt is rolling BALLS right now, ALL THREE attacks fail to gain purchase on her! XD But a couple of them do manage to bite Ashton ... eurgh ...

Fearne casts Flaming Sphere on the big thing! She torches the fucker ... but she's doing it at a higher level so it may be about to get weird ... oh boy ...oof ... roll a D20 then, Ashley ... 14? Phew ... she's safe ... bloody Wild Magic ... then she hides out again ...

Orym uses his fancy boots to jump over Chetney and rush in behind the monster ... Goading Attack! Yeah, Wee Man ... Matt fails his Wisdom save ... whoa ... did Liam REALLY just roll a Nat1 he COULDN'T reroll? Holy shit ... very first time for this Campaign ... oh well ... Tripping Attack! Wait ... this thing can REGENERATE? Boooo! Then he disengages and it gets an aAttack of Opportunity ... and HITS HIM!!! Crap! Thankfully he manages to clear his Strength Save so it doesn't smash him on the spot ... thank the gods for that shield ...

Essek glides into the fray and starts weaving a spell ... a Gravity Fissure? Holy fuck, Hot Boi! Okay, so ... that's doing good, but also thoroughly perilous for the group too! Maybe this wasn't the SMARTEST move right now ... don't suck everybody into a bloody mini Black Hole!

So it's the Monster's turn ... here comes the ridiculously huge hammer ... oh shit, CENTRE MAW!!! It bites at Orym ... crap! 24 points of Piercing damage ... and now it's FUCKING CHEWING HIM!!! Meanwhile it makes a swing for Dorian ... fuck, that just batteres Dorian hard enough he gets knocked CLEAN THROUGH the nearby building ... ouch ...

Dorian picks himself up and sets off his Winged Boots, then flies over to the Monster, then casts a 5TH lEVEL LIGHTNING BOLT!!! Holy shit ... Imogen, meanwhile, coordinates with him and does the exact same thing! Cool ... Matt fails both saves! Sweet! 10 D5 Lightning damage from EACH OF THEM!!! 40 from Dorian, 42 from Imogen! Holy fuck! CRACKADOOM!!! Thor's in the House!

Oh crap ... what did Imogen do? Laura has to roll a D100 ... Wild Magic strikes again ... 4? a Fireball explodes RIGHT ON TOP of Imogen? Holy shit ... Laudna manages to make her save, at least ... Laura: "At least I'm not a sheep." Yeah ...

Chetney unleashes Turmoil and casts Shatter against the Monster ... 20 Thundr dmage halved right up its butt ... then he starts to circle round as cautious as he can for a better vantage point ...

Laudna decides to try something NEW, unleashing Void Puppet on it ... that is some FREAKY SHIT right there, Dead Girl! Oh yeah, that spirit effect is just HORRIFYING ... now she dumps a Fireball on as many of the crawlies as she can ... BOOM!!! Using a Sorcery point to Empower, she lands 38 points of Fire damage on each of them and annihilates THREE of the fuckers ... and now the tent's on fire ..

Ashton triggers a Hyper-Rage and charges the Monster, leaving WEIRD streaks and after images behind him ... while Taliesin elbows Liam in his funny-bone, Ashton inflicts 25 points of Gravitational damage on it and shoves it hard backwards ... then he leaps on top of it to swing his hammer HARD down to land another SMASHING hit ... BOOM!!!

Fearne pops out Mister and chucks him close to Laudna, then throws a Scorching Ray at 3rd Level at the Monster ... one miss THREE hits! Sweet! 17 points of Fire damage, plus 7 more thanks to Mister ... and it does NOTHING to the creature? Shit! It's immune to fire? NOOOOOOOO!!!

Orym takes another 19 points of piercing damage from the maw ... then pulls a Misty Step to pop OUT of its mouth and run up its arm, then goes swinging ... he proper carves it up, doing some genuine damage ... it's like carving through dead meat? Yuck ... one last hit and he gets the HDYWTDT!!! Yes! Down it goes!

Oh ... so there's SOMETHING moving off in the distance somewhere ... is it a potential threat? Hmmmm ...

Yeah, might be best to put the tent-fire out ...

Motivational Speech? Nice one, Dorian! 4th Level ... that's 10 temp hit points to five of them and temp advantage on saves ... cool ...

GO FOR THE TOWER!!! FAST!!!

Not particularly safe, then ... but it's a hiding place, at least ...

Weird fur-less oversized wolves ... charming ... with eyeballs on the end of theit overlong tails? Freaky ...

Crap ... something else is coming from another direction? Great ...

Oh yeah, a Short Rest might be a good idea ...

Weird gorilla-like things? Also creepy ...

There's something horrible on the ceiling grabbing things? Oh my FUCKING GODS that is nightmare fuel ... O.O

Pass Without a Trace ... group Stealth check with advantage ...

Oh yeah, the gigantic sinkhole ... flying would likely be helpful to avoid THAT shit ... oh yeah! Dorian could TOTALLY carry Orym, that would be IMMENSELY helpful. Also it'll be REALLY fun for the shippers too ... XD

So this was a hole from something being blasted up and out, then ... lovely ... oh, they're going down INTO IT ... great ... O.O

The smell of ASSSSSSSS ... LOL

Tingly, creepy, oppressive ... just WRONG, basically. This place is NOT a good place to be ...

The Occultus Thalamus ... yeah ...

That is ... A LONG FUCKING WAY DOWN ... O.O

Awwww ... remembering FCG ... please don't, I'm not strong enough ...

Touchdown, then ... yeah, this place is a mess ... but it's also CLEARLY been disturbed ... another leftover Vanguard camp, it seems ... and something weird ... breathing in the dark distance ... oh, that's just PEACHY ...

Is that blood? Hmmmm ... sniff check for Chet ... not fresh, then ... it's a smear from something being dragged off into the dark ... charming ... that's not, like, FOREBODING at all ...

Hello Pate ... immediately he's admonished for being SO LOUD ... yeah, he doesn't really HAVE an "inside voice" ... oh yeah, he can talk in her head instead, that's better ... time for scouting, then ...

And Matt calls it a break ... okay then ...

Yeah ... this place really does give us the collective creeps ... oh ... an open door? Hmmmm ... this is where the blood trail is leading, too ... lovely ...

Some kind of storage chamber ...

Big glass containers? Hmmmm ...

Dorian's gettign awful far ahead ... maybe that's not, like, SUPER smart ...

Ah, so this is about to become virgin ground for Essek? Great ... and his knowledge has some holes, too ... hmmmmm ...

Remembering Caleb ... yeah, he's a hell of a guy ... :3

Insight Check? Really, Ashley? Oh, WHISPERS!!! Intriguing ...

Oh, so clearly somebody's been through here since and opened it up ... yeah, looks like this is the way, then ...

Chetney checks for traps ... nothing of note ...

Aha ... children's hospital colour theory ... thanks for that, Tal ...

Yeah, looks like this might be the smarter place to check for traps ... is that stone fixed? Movable? Should we be suspicious?

The wooden chair ... yeah ... LOL

Push the stone ... the door's open ... nothing happens ... and they''re all still obssessing about the stone ... this bunch, they're so paranoid ... I love it ... XD

Liam: "Any velociraptors hiding out in here?" Matt: "What are you looking for? Velociraptors?" LOL

Boiling tar? Oh lovely ... best avoid THAT shit ...

Oh, so the stone's an arcane lock ... okay then ...

Carrying on, then ... it's opening up ahead ... and there's that smell again ... metallic ... somewhere up ahead ... loads and lods of ancient corpses littering the floor ... and lots of dangling chains hung from the ceiling ... with more bodies hanging from several ... great ... O.O

The hanging bodies are FRESH ... great ... Vanguard, looks like ... seemingly suffering a similar fate to the last batch upstairs ... great ...

Yeah, it would probably be4 too much wishful thiniing for one of THESE poor buggers to be Ludinus, wouldn't it ...

Oh, like this could be a TRAP, then? Rogue Aeorian tech? Hmmmm ...

Wait ... WHAT THE FUCK?!!! Pate is just suddenly GONE. Shit!

Form of Dread! Yeah! Mama's ANGRY!!!

Hunter's Bane ... Chetney sniffs for undead ... something here is FIENDISH ... great ...

Religious or Arcana check ... 16 Arcana ... the chains seems to have been conjured THROUGH the stone? Oh that's just GREAT ...

Spiderclimb ... smart ...

Oooh ... Essek has more fancy tricks up his sleeve ...

Ah, I see ... so question a corpse, then? Hmmm ...

Here we go, then ... Speak With the Dead ... cool ...

"The whispers in our head"? Oh, that's just ... AWESOME ...

"This started with the engine room"? Oh, that's interesting ... is that some kind of clue? Something about that rings a bell ...

Oh, Fearne's summoning her demon bae Tevan ... trying to be as discreet as she cane about it for Dorian's sake ... yeah, that don't work too well soon as the massive intimidating infernal smoking hot BADASS appears ... "The pact begins." Yeah ... great ...

Crap ... HE KNOWS Dominox ... great ... a "great enemy" from ancient times? Awesome ...

Laudna: "Do you have any bros you can call on? Now might be the time." Tevan: "... there is a bit doing on."

Essek is clearly more than a little flabbergasted by this whole business. XD

Orym (observing all of this going on around him): "Metal ..."

Whoa ... is Chetney POSSESSED?!!! Is Dominox getting into his head? "The bad wolf"? What? What the blue FUCK is this creepy Stephen King freakiness?

He can't see his friends anymore ... oh, that's not good ...

Oh sweet fuck ... Chetney, WHAT DID YOU DO?!!!

THIRTEEN? Fuck ...

Laudna can't get through to him ... not good ...

Orym touches Chetney's shoulder and HE FEELS a blade stabbing into it ... fuck ... hew responds very much IN KIND ... and claws into Orym ... SHIT!!!

Oh fuck! He snapped out of it! How ... how the hell did he do that? WAS IT real? Is it this place or did that GENUINELY just shake some buried memory loose in him? I don't like it at all ... this is all SO BAD ...

Shit ... yeah that is a GOOD FUCKING POINT, Ahston going off like that would be a REALLY BAD THING ...

Tevan is not much help right now, clearly ...

Dorian: "And we have the power of friendship! Which is why we'll WIN!!!" Bardic Inspiration! Yeah, fix that shit for 'em, Dorian!

Grim Psychometry? REALLY?!!! Right now? In THIS hellhole?

The hooks are simply facilitation, they're not the agents here ... interesting ... pure abyssal energy? Oof ... it's TOO MUCH to even interpret, clearly ...

Dorian's investigating ... oh, that's interesting ... the chains are just LYING there on the ground, pregnant with possibility, like they're WAITING ...

Trying Speak With the Dead again ... one of the "crazies" this time ...

"The Pinion of Service"? That's how Dominox was captured. An abyssal soul anchor ... shackled to THE ENGINE? Oh WOW ... that's interesting ... and now we know WHERE THE ENGINE IS. Cool. If the seals are intact Dominox is dormant ... well that's surely a big giveaway, then ...

Dominolx "feeds on insecurity" ... Imogen: "Oh gods ..." NO SHIT!!! O.O

DORIAN has to throw a Wisdom save? OH FUCK NO!!! Not now! 16? Hmmm ... is that GOOD?

He sees his brother Cyrus in one of the hanging corpses ... and it starts talking to him ... AND THIS is where Matt calls it for the night! SHIT!!!

Fuck ... once again, the very worst kind of cliffhanger ... O.O

Oh wow ... so THIS is where they're gonna pick it up on the Live Special? That is SO COOL ...

[jamiebluewind]

I fired my aide

I fired my aide

Holy crap, I fired my aide

Anxiety is like

but I'm coping. I was honest with him and told him I tried so hard with him, but I couldn't risk my life. My bestie/roommate is here helping me calm down. My aide will keep working til a replacement is found (ho boy do I have feelings on THAT), but then he'll be gone. It's over.

[emilsendo]

Can you do a angst with a Ackerman reader with Reiner as their host and seeing him again in S4?

Sure thing! I am sorry if I mess up somethin' I didn't watch SNK for a while now and I may or may not forget some things 👀 I hope it's not borning or anything....💀

_______________________________________

I landed on the roof, my eyes wide open. I can't believe the sight before me. Reiner is held by two of our companions, and Hange and Jean are standing nearby. I watch the boy's face, his eyes are closed. He's unconscious.

Jumping, landing gracefully next to them on the ground. I see surprised looks. I know they didn't expect me here. I should be in a completely different place now, but when I heard that the armored titan was defeated, I immediately moved in that direction.

— What the hell happened here!?— I said, tightening my grip on my blades. If Reiner is still alive, there must be a reason for it.

— We're waiting for Mikasa with the injection from Levi. Then we'll deprive him of his powers.— Jean explained.

— And if necessary, we'll fire a warning flare and then we'll kill him.—

— I understand.— I said with a false tone devoid of emotion. My gaze was fixed directly on Reiner, who was not giving off steam, which was not a good sign. He was weak, unable to regenerate. Or maybe capable, only he lacked will. I stared at his poor form, lack of limbs, lack of movement, everything... And all I could do was pretend that I didn't care about the fate of this asshole. I knew that he had betrayed us, such a trick would not be forgotten for a long time. But I can't ignore my feelings, only fake them outside when I speak.

The soldiers held the blond to the wall of the building, to make sure he wouldn't escape.

I looked up, secretly hoping that I wouldn't see Mikasa or the smoke signal there. For a moment I saw the clear sky, but it quickly turned red, and a loud sound of it spread throughout the arena. I immediately looked at Hange, who knew what she had to do after that signal. She pulled out her blades, ready to fulfill her duty.

I narrowed my eyes, feeling frustrated by the boiling feelings inside me. I felt anger and a huge need to protect this man with all of myself. But the more realistic part of me told me to stay the fuck back. If I'll resist, I'll be seen as a traitor too.....

However, when I saw Hange, who was already planning to swing and deliver the final blow. Something inside me gave me a solid kick to move forward and stand in front of Reiner as a shield.

I kicked Zoë in the stomach, firmly to make her move away. My blade extended in front of me, my gaze as cold as the darkest cave. The shadow from my hair fell on my face, giving me a distinctive aura. Before anyone could yell at me or react in any way, I interrupted them by speaking slowly and in a deep tone of voice.

— You wanna kill him? Then you have to kill me first.—

— Holy crap, we don't have time for this, Y/N!!— Hange yelled out, she seems to be too busy with finishing her duty than to care about the pain in her stomach. Your kicks always were strong, but at this moment they were almost unbearable to handle.

— You still have time to withdraw, idiot.— Jean said, taking his blades out as well. His gaze fixed on me, as I felt nothing more than pure rage and protectiveness. At that moment I was ready to attack, but then the ground shook under my feet. I was then pushed back by the force of the card titan and the beast titan sitting on it. They took Reiner. I rushed myself to chase after them without thinking twice.

was almost ready to snatch Reiner from my opponents' clutches, I don't know why I was desperate to get him back, since he would die by my side anyway. But I wanted him to spend this moment with someone he cared about at least a little bit... I guess he did.

However, I was caught by Jean, who had difficulty catching up with the remaining fuel in the ODM gear and pinned me against the bricks of one of the roofs. I tried to break free, and partially succeeded, but the rest of the soldiers close to us also pinned me down. I was and am a strong soldier, that's why one man is not enough to defeat me.

— REINERRRR!!!!—

I yelled on top of my lungs, having a feeling that I'll not see that man for a long time.....

Then I felt a strong hit on my head, knocking me out, making me loose my vision.

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After a long time, in Marley.

— Y/N...— the voice said, looking at the man standing a meter away from him with a shocked expression. Their (e/c) eyes were lifeless, yet filled with anger and determination. They also had scars that stuck out from under their clothes, on their arms and a bit on their neck. A blond man who was already a grown up, just like Y/N Ackerman, whom he abandoned without a word a few years ago. Braun felt more guilt than usual because he knew that the (hair color) friend of his was arrested and tortured after trying to save him.

— Congratulations for remembering my name. Do you only remember it or somethin' else about me?— Y/N answered. Their voice filled with coldness.

— I know you hold a grudge against what I did....But I had responsibilities here. I was not an ordinary soldier, but a warrior... When I returned home, the war began. The conflict that arose after our defeat on Paradis....— Reiner explained, his gaze fixed on Y/N's form that he missed even since he left.

— I had my responsibilities here, I couldn't abandon them even if I wanted to!—

— And you could have abandoned me?— The Ackerman cut him in the middle of his sentence, their voice was serious as ever. But there was a hint of disbelief in it.

That sentence or rather retorical question made the warrior stop thinking. His eyes went wide a bit. It was as if this statement made him realize that he had given up his memories of Paradis Island and with it Y/N, who had saved his ass more than once. Unfortunately, Reiner Braun repaid them with total ignorance.

— .....I'm sorry.— blond haired said. That was the only words he could say at that moment.

— Good. But I don't forgive.— the other said careless about Reiner's quilt. They were in pain, all for him so he could be safe and go back home. But they didn't expect him to just....forget. He didn't give a damn about them begin in prison for his sake. They were the only one who truly cares, not Reiner.

— I realize that. But I want you to know that I have NEVER forgotten about you. I had nightmares about your torture..... That you were dying and I wasn't there, like you used to be there for me! But I couldn't go back to you and help you. After I returned from the island, I didn't have much time left, I thought you would be able to forget about me and make a life for yourself without me.—

Then the man with a light beard got hit in the jaw by his old friend. Causing bleeding to appear on his lips. His eyes met (e/c) ones, before he heard.

—What do you think: Will this wound disappear immediately or will it leave a scar? In your case, it will probably be a minor wound. In my case, a memory on my body that I can't scratch off with force.—

You looked at him in disgust and then continued to try not to think about how much you wanted to beat him up.

— Forget? Forget someone I protected with all my being? You say you had responsibilities... I had them too. But despite that, I STILL protected your fucking ass! I broke orders! I exposed myself to ridicule and a shitload of casualties! And what about you? Wasn't it a favor to do ONE thing in return, to help me?—

— Y/N....— He process to say.

— Don't. If you want me to forget about you, then I will. If you want me to be your true enemy, then I will fucking do it. Just don't call me Y/N afterward, because from now on we are nothing to each other.— you stated, hand slowly going up to point at Reiner, your gaze neutral as if he was seriously a stranger.

— You. The warrior of Marley.—

before you hand pointed at yourself.

— Me. The solider of Paradis Island.—

You looked into each other's eyes, you, had only and only mad hatred in your eyes. And Reiner, only and only wondered how you had changed.... He couldn't hide the fact that he was glad to see you. Even if he had lost you forever and that you would never again come across each other as friends or anything else. He was happy that at least you were able to live a normal life in the future. He always felt that you were the only thing that slowed him down from reaching the stars. He always felt sadness, which he masked well in moments when you risked your life and reputation for him, when he didn't deserve it. Reiner Braun knew that, but hearing those words from your mouth was a different level of pain he felt....

— So, goodbye, soldier from Paradis Island." The short-haired blond said with a slight smile, then turned towards the exit. Knowing that he will have to fight against you in the nearest time.

[potatoetree]

Incorrect quote generator - The Seven + Nico & Will addition!?

Characters

Jason Grace

Leo Valdez

Piper McLean

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Hazel Levesque

Frank Zhang

Nico di Angelo

Will Solace

__________________________________________________________

Nico: When I first met you, I thought you were weird and annoying.

Leo: And?

Nico: And you are.

Percy: Are you a cuddler?

Nico: I'm a machine of death and destruction.

Percy:

Nico: ...Yeah, I'm a cuddler.

Piper: What are the hardest things to say?

Jason: I was wrong.

Leo: I need help.

Percy: Worcestershire sauce.

Leo: Why cant trees give off something important like wifi??

Jason: So fuck oxygen, I guess.

Leo: Why are your tongues purple?

Percy: We had slushies. I had a blue one.

Jason: I had a red one.

Leo: oh.

Leo:

Leo: OH.

Hazel:

Hazel: You drank each others slushies?

Hazel: Piper you can’t move in with Jason.

Piper: Why not?

Hazel: Well, um, how are you going to feel when they see you without any makeup?

Piper: I’m not wearing makeup right now.

Hazel: Holy crap, you’re beautiful.

Jason: Okay, but if your not gay then why are you always holding my hand and kissing me and telling me I’m your boyfriend?

Percy: Dude- Its satire!

Jason: THAT'S NOT WHAT SATIRE MEANS!

Jason: Nico, I know you love Percy. I mean, we all do, they’re a very nice person and I respect them immensely.

Jason: But I think they might be a fucking idiot.

Frank: I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter “s”.

Leo: *looks over at Nico and Will* Leo: Is it “sexual tension”?

Piper: Why is Jason crying on the floor?

Frank: They took one of those 'what person are you?' quizzes.

Piper: And?

Frank: They got Percy.

Will: *cocks gun* Go to Bed. This is no longer a request, This is now a Threat.

Percy: There’s no “I” in team, but there is one in pizza.

Jason: So, you’re not going to share?

Percy: I’m not going to share.

Annabeth: Just took a personality test and got an A+.

Nico: I am free of all prejudice. I hate everyone equally.

Annabeth: Nico is at that very special age where a kid only has one thing on their mind.

Leo: Boys?

Nico: Homicide.

Annabeth: Stop setting things on fire because you're curious about what will happen. What will happen is fire.

Leo: But what if something else happens just this one time.

*Frank comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Hazel’s bedroom.*

Hazel: Babe, are you.. coming to bed?

Frank: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a girlfriend.

Frank: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep*

Hazel: ...

Percy: Can I have 2 straws with that milkshake?

Annabeth: Aww-

Percy: With 2 straws, I can drink it double as fast!

Leo: Jason and I are so close we even share a toothbrush.

Jason: We what?

Nico: My stomach growled super loud in French.

Nico: I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class.

Leo: Bonjour.

Will: Le growl.

Piper: Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette.

Piper: I am convinced Leo and Percy share a brain cell.

Frank: And it's not in use very often, it seems.

Percy: I’m 80% awesome 20% water and 100% handsome.

Nico: That’s 200%.

Percy: I’m twice the man you’ll ever be.

Percy: I'm going to get myself some soup.

Annabeth: Be careful not to burn yourself, it's hot.

Percy: Pfft, I won't burn myself.

*30 seconds later*

Percy, entering the room: I burned myself.

Will: What do you three have to say for yourself?

Jason:

Frank:

Percy: Oops?

Nico: Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed of the souls of the living I strike fear into-

Will: You sleep with a teddybear.

Nico: He’s my sECOND IN COMMAND IN MY ARMY OF DARKNESS!

Leo: What is wrong with you?

Nico: Loaded question. Elaborate.

Percy: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Nico!

Nico: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

*Everyone is playing a board game together*

Will: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'.

Frank: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'.

Hazel: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'.

Annabeth: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'.

Percy: *flips the board*

Percy & Jason: Surprise! We're having a baby!

Nico: What?!

Percy & Jason: *pull out adoption papers* It's you!

Will: You're ignoring all your problems.

Leo: I know.

Will: You also know it's an unhealthy coping mechanism?

Leo: I'm ignoring that fact as well.

Will:

The Squad: *walking at the mall*

Jason: Hey, have any of you guys seen Nico? They’ve been gone for a while..

Hazel: Eh, nope.

Percy: No, I haven’t...

Piper: Probably ran off to McDonald’s or something.

Nico: Hey.

Jason: Ooh, there you are-

Hazel: What the fu-

Piper: I- where were you?!

Nico: Walking right behind you guys.

Piper, handing out popsicles: Which flavor do you want?

Percy: Blue flavor!

Piper: Uh, you mean Blue Raspberry?

Percy: Blue flavor! Blue flavor!

Piper: Blue is not a flavor!

Percy: BLUE FLAVOR!

Will, jumping out of Nico's closet: BOO!

Nico:

Will:

Nico:

Will: *makes a sad face*

Nico: Ahh! Oh my god! You scared me!

Leo: Dom or sub?

Hazel: I guess Domino's, since I don't go to Subway that much. Don't see why you'd put them in the same category though.

Annabeth: You use humor to deflect your trauma.

Leo: Awww, thanks-

Annabeth: That’s not a good thing.

Leo: All I’m hearing is that you think I’m funny.

Frank: Oh shoot!

Frank: Excuse my vulgarity.

Hazel: I’ll let it slide.

Leo: So my therapist was talking to me and she said that I really just need to break down my walls and let people in.

Leo: So I’ve decided to break the fourth wall.

Leo: *looks at camera* Hi there. I use humor as a coping mechanism.

Will: What do you three have to say for yourself?

Jason:

Frank:

Percy: Oops?