#i know i sound deranged. but i am literally having such a good time watching this show the hell....

[krytus]

jane & the dragon is the show tdp wishes it could be

[tua-five]

Season 3 Episode 3!!

⚠️⚠️ You know the warning, don't read if you haven't watched this season! ⚠️⚠️

Don't be Elmer's guys. That's just mean.

I love how Diego is obviously stressed, flipping his knife, and when Stan makes one noise, he yells, "Stanley! Now is not the time to be doing karate, okay?" Like, he'd yelling but still sounds like he isn't trying to be mean. But then he says that Stan's mom isn't wrong when she says he needs to practice karate. I mean... at least he's trying.

With the way that they're siblings, I'm surprised they don't blow up at each other more. I mean, Allison is constantly blaming Five. I'd scream at her and tell her it isn't my fault, but Five just calmly says he's just the messenger.

I am in-between, however. Viktor says that Five has a good track record of this stuff, and they should listen to him. I mean, sure. If you count getting stuck in one of the apocalypse for 45 years, failing to stop it the first time, causing another one, stopping that one only to head back to their timeline where they don't exist and causing another one. But to be fair, most of it isn't his fault. And in all honesty, I'd probably be Allison, too. Blaming Five and all that. Even if I do hate it.

As much as it was unnecessary, I do actually like the random fight scene between Lila and Five. Grabbing the shampoo and squirting it in her eyes was just smart. I mean, that hurts.

Sorry, but Allison calling Fei a flock of shegulls was actually really funny.

She is dumb however for saying they had Marcus.

It seems all the hargreaves need to do is actually talk to each other. Five and Lila just walked off with both briefcases. Diego knew they had both briefcases. But Allsion and Viktor still think the Sparrows have it.

"Pills, bills, and num nums." Wow, okay. Reggie's life is sad now.

Gotta say, I really love the Five-Lila duo. They're literally just perfect. The best platonic relationship in the show.

Luther being oblivious and missing everything while he was gone is just... well, honestly, it fits for him and this family. I'm glad Diego and Luther are making buddy-buddy, tho.

And poor Stan studying the elevator 😭

Another thing I love is the father son bonding moment with Reggie and Klaus. Reg is just so out of it. Not his normal self because of the pills, but his real self still peaks through, and Klaus is literally just chilling. Talking to him like normal and giving him tips on how not to take pills.

Also, Luther wanting to make Viktor feel loved and throw him a party to welcome him to the brother side is so sweet.

I feel like Klaus is always on side missions. Doing absolutely for the plot but just there for some comedic relief. And then something will happen, like he'll find the kugelblitz in the basement and then everybody already knows, so it doesn't matter. But at least he finally knows.

When the Sparrows show up and both sides of the family face each other, people take pictures. Like that's the best thing they've ever seen. And it probably is, I mean, the superheros they know that protect their city are supposedly meeting with a random group of deranged adults. I hope they showed those photos to as many people as they could before they got kugelblitzed. Just to cause some chaos.

Also, I thought this episode was longer. I desperately want to watch the next episode to watch the interactions with Harlan and Lila saying she'll miss Five, but I'll wait.

Today's gifs

[blazehedgehog]

ICYMI: My Sonic Frontiers Criticism/Essay Is Out Now

So here's the last four months of my life come to fruition: the longest piece of edited criticism I've ever put on my Youtube channel, clocking in at just over an hour. For those of you that may be new around here, I am pretty against making long videos. I don't know if I overthink things too much or what, but it's rare for me to have much tolerance for feature-length reviews of things. They can wear me out just watching them, and it definitely wears me out to make them.

But sometimes you just have a lot to say. And I didn't even necessarily say everything I could have said here; there were things I would have added if not for the looming deadline proposed by the video sponsor. That's not a complaint -- sometimes you need someone else to tell you "be done by this date or else." Limitations foster creativity and toiling away at perfection can sometimes be just as toxic as crunch.

What I was trying to say is it's a big video, and it was hard keeping everything straight in my head because there was so much. One of those times where I was glad how I planned things out in advance, because sometimes the thoughts you had four months ago are not the same thoughts you have today, and the thoughts from four months ago were better.

It's already proving to be a bit of a divisive video, given I am going against the grain here. But I'm a big boy. I've spent time on the front lines of these sorts of things before. I know how to handle myself. I mean, half the reason I started my tumblr back in the day was pointing out some of the truly deranged takes I'd get in the replies to my Sonic 06 video.

Though I do worry. I'm getting a lot of people who are... politely declining to tell me what they think. More than a few "I don't agree with you, but I'm glad you released this video" that then never elaborate further. And that makes me feel bad? But why? Do I want to argue with my friends? Not particularly.

But more to the point, are people afraid to argue with me? Do I get too aggressive? I've picked up on a vibe, not just from friends, where people seem to go out of their way to avoid arguments with and/or around me. I mean I literally just said I started my Tumblr blog as a "get a load of this guy in my comments" spotlight (which, for the record, I don't do anymore). I don't want to be scary. But is it scary, or is it a strength? Or am I just imagining the whole thing? History says it's probably that last one, but it doesn't stop me from wondering. It's a lot to chew on.

At the end of the day, I do think parts of this script could have been better. I do kind of get a little mean at a couple points in ways I could have written around. A lot of people are bristling at the opening spiel, where I get more than a little "you people" about the Game Awards voting situation. There's another part later in the video where I also feature actual comments from a previous video and as I was editing it together I thought, "this sounds mean." But given I was less than 24 hours away from that deadline, I just had to roll with it (so I at least blurred the names and cropped the avatars out).

I'll end this post by quoting what I wrote on Patreon day before yesterday for the early access version of this video:

What a march this has been. I've worked on some videos that felt like they took forever, but nothing like this. This felt like the project that would never end. Some of that's because, after pushing myself so hard on the Sonic Adventure 2 video, I tried to be a little more casual with this one. I think I started the script around the end of April, a couple weeks after finishing the game on-stream. The idea was to avoid burnout.  And then the script grew, and grew, and grew, to be the longest script I've ever written. After doing voice over, I had three hours of material I had to cut down. I captured more than 60 hours of gameplay from more than 50 games. Thank goodness I took the time to stop and "storyboard" out this review like I did with the SA2 video. It actually proved to be extremely valuable here -- with a video this long, that takes so long to put together, it's hard to keep all of your ideas hot and ready in your head. Often I'd fall back to the storyboard and realize I planned something months ago that was way better than what I was doing in the moment.  And then in July, a sponsor came calling again. Suddenly I had a real deadline. The last four weeks have been a race to move this mountain of material into something resembling the shape of a video. The last couple days in particular have felt something like a miracle. A work ethic I hadn't tapped into in years suddenly roared to life as I locked down 20+ minutes of video in a matter of hours. It may have involved several actual panic attacks and me running on about four hours of sleep, but here we are. I was revising the script all the way up until a week ago. In retrospect, the sponsor segment probably leans a little too much on SAGE content, but by the time I realized that the train was barreling down the tracks too fast to stop. Thoughts for next time, I guess.

Patrons get a PDF of the script I used, including an unfinished earlier draft I abandoned where I think I was actually even meaner about it, if you can believe it. They also get a PDF of what my "storyboarding" process looks like (which is all just text).

I'll probably toss up a post for all the art I made for this video, too.

[mag7dumbies]

4 years ago I sent this to a complete stranger…. I have no idea why I sent it or why it is completely deranged but I sent it and 4 years later we are probably closer than two people 1,000 miles away could be

Kaz it’s been 4 years, 1,461 days, that have been the best days of my life, because you have been in them. You are my oracle, my rock, and the other half of my brain. I have no idea what I did to be so lucky to have met you.

In the first days of our friendship I think we wrote 4 peer reviewed papers just on Ezra Standish alone. I don’t think I ever told you this but I saved some (most) (for at least the first week) of our messages in a word doc because I liked rereading our convos. You are still just as verbose and detailed as you were back then and I consider myself so lucky to be able to read about your OCs and Aus whenever you get a hankering to share (which is fortunately often)

You have made me grow in so many ways, with your kindness and your snark. I strive to be as good a friend to you as you are to me. You’ve broaden my tastes to the moon (Fire and Ice and The Eagle are still burned into my brain) (Special mention to Rem Lezar and those eps of Rawhide because I can’t put those psychological horrors in this category but I wanted to mention it because they would have been good cause to lose my number... and yet)

Kaz this message could probably last at least 3,000 words, when it probably needs just three, I love you, I honestly believe it’s more than love, it is just a natural part of my heart, that you now inhabit. There is not a quality that you’ve shown me that I don’t love, from your strong convictions (that have rubbed off on me), your imagination that knows few bounds, and especially your patience. You are probably more important to me then you know and I hope I give as much as I get because you deserve it. Kaz you are the whole package plus about 6 other packages that I didn’t expect but happily unwrapped

I remember in 2022 when our friendship went from a casual, still very close but casual relationship, to what it is today. Our first watch party was the last two eps from Our Flag means Death season 1. What babies we were back then, there was little talking (due to how we watched but still) there was no screaming no brain melting a far cry from today. Our Saturday nights have always been sacred to me and I will/have bent over backwards to not miss them, they make getting through the week an easy task because I know I will be able to hang out with you for approximately 4-8 hours which sounds crazy and is crazy. Anyway now in 2024 I literally can’t imagine a day we aren’t in contact (I still get soft when I remember that week where I barely had the energy to open your messages and yet you were here on Tumblr being a bright spot which i definitely needed) And I get to have that everyday even if it’s just a check in or a in-depth psychology analysis on Jess Harper I get to have the pleasure of talking to you which is priceless.

One more thing Kaz when I met you I didn’t have close friends I had a couple but they felt very hollow and it was hard to communicate with them sometimes, due to my Visions TM (it’s probably the autism but I’ll blame Visions and not how my brain functions) my real world friends did not share my interest in Gay cowboys or weird shows from the 70s so I felt very alone for a long time but then I threatened a random Incorrect quotes blog and I found someone I could make a home out of a multitude of fandoms with. You will have no idea what an impact you’ve made on me. And I hope we have at least 80,000 more anniversaries that we can share

I could go on, I should go on because I definitely don’t think I talked enough about how perfect you are and literally you are perfection but this has to come to an end for one our sakes lol. Kaz you really are the breath under my wings and I want to make sure you never forget just how much I cherish you

I am so excited to see you in person in 144 days!!!

@incorrect-gunslingers

[twipsai]

heyoo! just wanted to say love your rewrite comic of sonic forces!! tis very cool :)

if you don't mind me asking, is anything else going on in this rewrite which you could let us know about? or tis a secret?

ok first of all this ask, the two reblogs you added tags to, and the comment you left literally made me wanna write so much more for this rewrite you have no idea. genuinely such a large motivation burst TYSMMMM

SECOND OF ALL! this rewrite is kind of vague rn, i have an idea for a four or five chapter fic that takes place in the month gap between forces and idw, but (glances at my 2/3rds finished wip thats 32k words rotting in my gdocs) well. im trying to finish something else for the time being, so i have no idea when thats gonna happen

in terms of actually rewriting forces itself, i have quite a few ideas for it but not a lot of concrete things written down -- my main problem with the game, especially after fully playing it (5 hours of my life fucking WASTED), is that it is simultaneously such a serious story, but doesnt take itself seriously in the slightest -- you have, on one hand, Sonic being tortured for six months in a tiny prison cell, but on the other, you have Sonic walking out of there completely fine and it's never acknowledged again. you have, on one hand, two teenagers leading a resistance in a war, but on the other, you have those two teenagers acting bland and uninteresting the entire time. theres so much that could have been done with this story, but instead of grabbing hold of that spark, the writers, instead, decided to write something bland, boring, and worst of all, disingenuous. this is worse than writing something thats bad, in my opinion.

my rewrite takes a lot of notes from my buddy Chip's rewrite called Reinforced (which theyve only really posted about on artfight here), so much so that sometimes i talk about them interchangeably lol, one of the biggest changes in the story is that Tails and Rouge work together. also Infinite is a much bigger threat, specifically to Sonic, and his death is much more intense

this might sound like a deranged thing to say but ive been tossing around in my head what i want Sonic to go through during his time in the death egg, whether i want it to be a white room torture sort of deal, or if i wanna torment him with visions (illusions), so ive sorta been trying to figure out in exactly what way hes fucked up LMAO

additionally, like most other people, im cutting the avatar and Classic Sonic from the script -- theres something to be said about Sonic going through something that fundamentally changes both him and the world, and fighting that threat along side his younger self, but the source material isnt interested in exploring that, so im not either (i actually am, but not in this rewrite,,,, not in this rewrite.) and im cutting the avatar from this in favor of bringing Tails back into the story beyond him being scared and smart for like 10 minutes of the total runtime and then saying "true dat" at the end. i mean cmon!! he watched his big brother presumably die right in front of him! the unbreakable bond, well, broke! thats fucking important! Frontiers and IDW explored this, and i want to as well. its very interesting to me. and he should have been playable. i will die on this hill

also, Sonic doesnt get rescued at the start of the story, it happens wayyy later into the story (right before the climax probably). i hated how they found him practically two seconds after they lost him

a lot of this may be influenced by Sonic Forces Overclocked, which i have plans to play (once i have. free time), since ive heard a lot of good things about it and am very interested in the story it has to tell.

"wheres shadow" idk :( probably brooding in a cave i havent thought that far ahead

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

@doomsayings I had to make a separate post bc I have too much to say for a reply lmao. But I’M OBSESSED!! I literally only started Housewives to humor a friend but then it got me like immediately lol. I’m not current on either tbh tho. Housewives I’m on season… four? The one where Carlton and Joyce joined. And VPR I’m on season two. I’m trying to watch to keep up with both so that they’re like around the same time ish for any crossover content.

General thoughts, I’m in loooove with Lisa Vanderpump. She’s so sexy 😭😭😭 and she seems like the most genuine and normal of them? Hate that they’re all turning on her rn where I’m at in the season. Like leave her alone!!! She hasn’t done anything wrong ever.

Season one was really funny with the insane Kyle and Camille drama. Probably the only time Kyle has ever been justified imo sjdhdd. It was really cool how Camille turned around and became the least dramaful person over the subsequent seasons tho. Like she ended up leaving the show but Good For Her. It sounds like she had some like capital T Therapy and became way more mature and mellow.

Kyle was fun in like season one? But she’s been kind of pearl clutchy and annoying since idk. It’s good drama ig. But I’m neutral on her. I liked her relationship with Lisa a lot though rip it made a lot of sense why Lisa wanted to step back. And it’s been really funny how Kyle’s legit just acting like a jealous ex over it and being like “but why don’t you love me anymore :C” I was very 👀👀 when they kissed in Paris as a “joke” tho.

Adrienne seemed really chill and level headed at first at least next to the others and then got bizarrely touchy by the end. I love drama but hers seemed really petty all the time, so I was glad she left the show. Also she like transparently absolutely LOATHED her husband from the first episode, so I’m surprised it took her that long to get divorced.

Also past season but the Taylor thing was scary!!! It was insane seeing the “woman yelling at cat” meme in context and it’s like in the middle of her mental breakdown due to her abusive af husband.

I used to like Brandi a lot but she’s spiraled pretty bad? Like on intro she seemed genuinely really nice and just vaguely without a filter (same) and everyone was ganging up on her for objectively really minor things or interpreting her in bad faith all the time. But idk she got genuinely super racist with Joyce. And now she’s being mean to Lisa 💔

Carlton’s fun but insane. Love her weird goth house and how she and her husband are both clearly sleeping with the nanny. Also just all the very gay moments with Brandi and it’s hilarious how much she seems to hate Kyle for no reason?? Kyle could just be like “hi” and she’s like WHY WOULD YOU EVER SAY SOMETHING SO PASSIVE AGRESSIVE?? I’m sad to see her go but also shdhdfd she is just kind of crazy.

Joyce is meh. She’s just kind of boring. But very pretty. I am happy to stare at her. I know she doesn’t last past the one season either.

Yolanda seems deranged in her personal life but the most solid and reasonable in like the friend dynamic and when drama goes down. It’s really insane though how she’ll just say something completely crazy in passing and then gloss over it shdgd I think she also leaves soon? But she’s fun.

Kim’s also eh. She has soooo many issues but she handles them kind of annoyingly. Her life story is so fucked up and interesting though.

Re: VPR Stassi is probably my fave, she’s so messy 😭😭😭 That entire friend group is just awful! The way they have zero boundaries lmao. It’s like sitcom levels where they’re just together all the damn time. It also makes me feel better about adulthood lmao like these people act like insane teenagers!

Stassi is probs my fave. Love her mean girl energy. Scheana is vapid but probably like… the most solid friend? All the others are such assholes lmao. They never show up for each other!

I’m also not like there yet obvs but I have heard of Scandoval. So rn being at the point where Sandoval and Kristen break up (probably for good?) and the initial #vibes with Ariana, loosely knowing how it goes, is insaaaaane.

I also love every time there’s Housewives crossover, and they’re catering a party or something and are like “what the fuck is wrong with these rich people” shdhff like yeah.

So I’m having a great time! I love Mess!

[zephyrnine]

a few friends gave me an idea to start doing another 1-word prompt fic challenge to get me back into writing c: so of course i’m doing it with SKARSO. i hope to post a prompt maybe like once a week hopefully. my writings very rusty so 😭

oh also this drabble is just pure fluff ��� as fluff as a fic about two deranged psychopaths can be at least

1. Comfort

…

“Firebug.” Dexter’s voice was uncharacteristically quiet, and his arms flexed nervously where they lay around Firebug’s waist. He felt the larger man stir above him, and knew he had his attention.

His throat felt dry as he spoke again. “If I’m being honest, yes, I am worried. Some nights, i’m terrified.” He traced idle, slow circles in the small of Firebug’s back, for the others' comfort or for his own he didn’t know. This feeling of being small, of vulnerability… it was incredibly foreign to Dexter. It was hard to keep going with his train of thought, only being able to do so when Firebug gently urged him on, holding him closer.

“Living in Salem, it’s going to kill us one day.” He mumbled.

Firebug hummed, the sound low and thoughtful. “Just like you killed the town’s sheriff, right?”

Dexter scoffed, “I’m serious. I finally have something to live for — you — and some crazed mutt could take that away in an instant — or we could get hanged, or…”

“We could run away,” Firebug said quickly then, because he couldn’t disagree. Salem definitely had its ways of ripping a person apart… in the most terrifyingly, literal sense.

Dexter sighed, laying his head down on the arsonist's chest, taking in the familiar smell of gasoline and ash that always smothered him. “No, we couldn’t. If we leave during the day, someone in town will catch us; we get hanged. If we leave during the night, the jailor executes us.” He closes his eyes, listening to Firebug’s heart beat soundly in his chest. Each thrum was calming and before long, despite the grim conversation, he smiled. “But it’s a nice thought. A really nice one.”

Dexter couldn’t see the way Firebug’s eyes softened, how his face turned a benign shade of red at the sentiment. His eyes still closed, beginning to grow heavy with weariness.

“We will live. No cowardly mafia, no scheming coven, and no dumb townspeople could ever harm us. We watch each other’s backs, don’t we?” Firebug craned his neck down and pressed a kiss to the top of Dexter’s head, his hand on the other man’s back sliding up to his shoulder blade and pressing him closer, almost protectively. “This entire town will burn before either of us die here. You can count on that.”

Dexter smiled again, and couldn’t stifle the hushed laugh that left him. He could never understand Firebug’s optimism, but right now… he was inclined to follow it—to believe it because he believed in the other man, and he believed in them together. “…Careful, you’re giving me hope that we might survive this craziness.” He sounded drowsy.

“Good.” Firebug chuckled, shifting a bit under Dexter to adjust the pillow under his head, before laying back down. “Now, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day for us.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right…” Dexter murmured sleepily against Firebug’s chest. “I can’t wait to finally get that vigilante bastard off of our asses. Our ‘healing eachother’ claim wasn’t going to fool him for much longer.”

“Ha. Like that idiot could do anything worth… well, anything to us.” The arsonist’s voice was deep with exhaustion and Dexter could feel it rumble against his face. It was nice, and lulled him even further into sleep’s grasp.

For the first time in a while, he was looking forward to whatever insanity tomorrow could bring.

[prettyboykatsuki]

You. I don't know what you eat or what your hand and mind is made of but let me tell you your "How to be a dog" gojo fic literally had me in tears of joy. I found it randomly one day and my dumbass forgot to like the fic and I almost cried cuz I couldn't find it ANYWHERE no matter how much I searched. I'm not exaggerating this when I say it's a fucking masterpiece. I want it tattooed in my mind, I want to print it out and glued it on all over my walls. Please don't ever delete the story and never, ever stop writing. I am in awed at how much talent a person can have. The way you wrote gojo is so intoxicating and phenomenal like holy shit you need to write for him more. How did you do it? Literally how? God you're so good at writing I am at a loss for words. If you don't mind, I have a few requests and questions, first, what is your writing process? How did you get so good? Second, can you do character analysis on gojo? I wanna read your thoughts about him so bad. Third, can you give me writing tips on 1. How to create dialogues that'll makes sense coming out of the character's mouth, 2. how to make a character not go ooc, and 3. description?

P.s: Thank you so much for creating "How to be a dog" 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 (I'm still not done talking about this)

im going to CRY ANON HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

first of all im glad you were able to find me again!!!!! i only learned recently that people used likes to store fics afdkjsdkj but it makes me very happy that you enjoyed it enough to do that!!!!!! second of all thank you for your kind words... a masterpiece!!! u want to turn it in to wallpaper i am so so so honred by that thank you.

dw i wont ever delete any of my fics. im too stubborn and leaving them up for the most part is like important to me. im so glad u liked gojo in it!! that sick freak. i spent a lot of time crafting his insane behaviors like a blacksmith at a forge dskjfshdkj

my writing process is just me being deranged tbh!! i do most of my best writing in my kitchen when im listening to music and idea pops up and i start expanding on it!! other than that im not much of a planner so i just play it by ear dfvkjfd i never outline or anything

as for my thoughts on gojo i have a post about it right here!!

and for dialogue my biggest piece of advice is watch the anime, read the manga, and listen to dub to get a feel for how a character talks. how do they shift tone towards the end of a sentence? how long do they talk? are they word or concise? do they use big and complicated words or are they clear but simple? etc etc.

and once you get a feel for their speech patters, READ YOUR DIALOGUE OUT LOUD LIKE YOU WERE ACTING IT!! i think a lot of dialogue that sounds stiff is just bc it sounds Written but dialogue should sound like it's inteded to be Voiced. i hope that helps

(AND THANK U AGAIN FOR UR ASK...MEANS A LOT!!!)

[threadsun]

Freaking. HELL MAN!!! Okay. OKAY! Literally got me acting like a fool pacing the around the entire house because I literally CAN’T EVEN! Neighbors probably think I’m lookin crazy with all these wild gestures, freaking messing up food sounding like Hein the old wheezy dog from Howl’s Moving Castle, had me shout out a curse in disbelief, literally was just about to walk into the microwave door. Alright, I had to stop writing for a moment because I wound up having a seasoning packet explode on me because I was not functioning right. Why am I telling you that? You can’t tell when I start or stop writing but I DON’T KNOW! In any case, note to self: do not try to do things before reading your messages. AND I STILL HAVEN’T GONE PAST THE BLUE TEXT! Listen, I’m a very animated person because of how much I’ve performed in musical theatre so like, freaking looked like I was doing a whole cabaret show up in here. That went WAY harder than I expected it to be and apparently there are some things I didn’t know I wanted until you said it. So um, yeah, thanks for that! 🥵 Okay so MAYBE I did underestimate you JUST a tiny bit and didn’t think you could get me to react more than before, but each time you’ve been proving me wrong and this one just takes the cake! LISTEN, I’M TRYING to be strong and tough here, but pulling out stunts like that MAKE IT SO HARD 😂 But I’m not giving in yet! NOPE! NOT HAPPENING! NO SIR! I am STRONG! I am CAPABLE of not submitting. Tbh, I don’t even know how to respond back to what you said because every time I look at it, I let out a flustered laugh and my eyes shift away instinctively (*coughandwhatyousaidisalltruesoCOUGHCOUGHCOUGH*) So nope! Totally don’t want to be or go through ALL of those things! No way! 👀

NOICE! Glad to hear I’ve got a chance! 😊 But I’ve gotta respect your professionalism though, it definitely builds self confidence in yourself and your products/services! I used to have the issue of selling myself short and giving away services like readings for free because I didn’t think it was worth anything, plus I wanted to help others. Because I did that though, I ran myself ragged and wound up having to stop. By putting limits like a price or a time limit, it shows that what you have is valuable and takes up your own personal time to do to provide them goods. People wind up respecting you more and you can still take care of yourself. Even though I feel like I didn’t learn much in college, it’s in moments like these that I just go “Okay, maybe I DID learn alittle bit.” Lol!

But yeah, DEFINITELY too bold for Ian. He’s the perfect example of needing to learn to love yourself first before you love another. If he only found himself more deserving of love and took the brave step of cutting ties with toxic people in his life like his mom, maybe he would’ve found more confidence in the type of relationship that he and M/C shared. I’m sure that his route will be all about healing his traumas and self-worth. I’m about to buy all these guys blanket warmers and just bundle them up while watching Disney movies.

AW HELL YESSSSS! Freaking LIVE for stuff like that man! Just having your brain go blank every time he uses a trigger phrase and a dopey smile lands on your face. My brain keeps going ultra subby mode thinking about all the ways this could go. BRRRRRR. Phantom of the Opera creates hypnosis kinks? No wayyyy! Mirror scene where Christine gets hypnotized and her makeup turns all sultry the whole next scene with a dreamy expression? Gerald Butler? PSSH! No one finds THAT incredibly hot, no! 👀 And then SDJ is loosely BASED off of said Broadway show/book/movie? Ain’t no way someone’s who’s dream was to play Christine Daae since Nursery school and would involve her entire life on getting that role would EVER love a game like this! Oh, and Jack’s supposed to be the Phantom? The sexiest guy in the movie but also the most freaking deranged? BOI. POTO was my yandere gateway, I swear 😂

Anyways! Fireman AU! But yeah, it’s so weird how one moment sunshine is just talking normally, but the next they’re drooling all over themselves and- wait did they just moan out Jack’s name? They’re begging to be pounded into oblivion? Well, the firehouse can’t let down their favorite pet, can they? So they’ll be more than happy to oblige! “Sunshine, if you keep drooling like that, you’re going to make everyone believe you can’t live another day without my love filling you up~! Don’t you know how dangerous that is sunspot? You don’t even know how much I’d love to make you mine in front of everyone, but that’s okay! Puppies like you are GREAT learners, so I’m sure you’ll figure it out in no time!” M/C is just a blushing, incoherent puddle at that point between the triggers and the copious amounts of touching. NOM NOM NOM, I could eat hypnokink ALL DAY EVERY DAY!!! OOO! I can’t even imagine the types of punishments they’d receive!

YA GOT THIS!!! But I’ll get my tombstone ready. RIP me when it does come out 😂 YUS! Like Jasmine or white orchid or something for Ian. I honestly don’t think that Alan would have any type of super woodsy smell on him, he’d be just straight CAMPFIRE with some kind of grass mixed in. Literally just laid down on the ground and that’s his scent 😂

OO OO OO! Sounding like a monkey over here lol, but that sounds like FUN! I’m curious at how far I’d be able to go since I love the heat normally (ice cubes feel SOOOO freaking good)! But that massage oil sounds aMAZING too! GOD, I love kinks! There’s so much fun things you can do and just that rush of dopamine. UGH! Love it! There’s a sex shop downtown where I’m at that has a floor dedicated to kinky items and I felt like a kid at a candy store lol. Sadly, I’ve never got to do much since my last relationship was long distance for years until we moved in together for a bit and had no privacy so we didn’t get to do much. Plus my drive is fiendishly high while his was a lot lower so we didn’t match up well in that aspect, but it’s okay! But I remember talking a lot about what I would get the moment I had the chance! (*coughgotropesbutnevergottousethemcough*) In any case, you got me curious, what’s the sensations with electricity? I know for me, I’m scared of being shocked by static electricity during the winter so I’ve never considered it, but I’m sucker for trying new things soooo 😗

Oh thank goodness!!! I got scared for a moment there! Anxiety and people pleasing tendencies got my heart racing like a mad man lol! I gotcha though and I’m glad you’re having as much fun as I am~😉 Also tell Moon that I’m eating up that whole discussion over on their blog! I normally pop on over because I love their writing too, but I saw how they’re discussing how certain parts of the fandom were acting ridiculous between the audio and Nick’s design and I was just like “YES! GO OFF!” 👏 😂 D’Awwww! \(//∇//)\ I got da SMOOCHES! Thank you Sun for trusting me to speak up and reassuring me that it’s all good 🩵 But noooooo, I’m not too neeeeeedy~! I’m a STRONG woman and I ain’t kneeling down to any dom! 😜

-🎃

It's cute, how easily flustered you get from just a few words~ And to think, you thought you knew what you were getting into? But as I said, you just need to meet a proper dom who knows you better than you know yourself. Who'll open your eyes to all those filthy little kinks you've been pretending not to notice. Someone who can tell that you want to be a helpless princess reduced to nothing more than a desperate whore, so eager for the approval of her dom that she'll accept any punishment and thank them for it.

Exactly, Ian needs to learn to love himself and also learn to trust mc to tell him how they feel. He's just got a whole boatload of trauma to work through and unlearn, and I hope his route is us getting to help him with that, because he deserves it!!

God yeah Phantom is sooooooo good for hypnokink~ Everything about Music of the Night is just 😘👌 perfect! Jack would definitely be the one to hypnotise you into becoming the perfect pet for the whole fire station crew. He'd scramble your brain so much, you'd truly believe you were a dog with no purpose other than to please them. He'd have you getting desperate and horny the moment you heard his voice. Hypnokink Jack is divine!!

Oooh Jasmine is a nice one for Ian!! Alan definitely smells like he took a nap in the grass next to a campfire. Man's just smoky and grassy and definitely hasn't showered in weeks.

Kinks are so fun!!! My first few introductions to kink were... not ideal. But when I got back into it at 18, it was with friends that I trusted and properly organised community events and stuff which was much better!! And now I've been in it for years and have dedicated my career to it :3c I feel very lucky that I get to do that tbh, it's not the most lucrative thing but it's fun and fulfilling!!

As for electricity, hmmmm... depends on what you're using and the voltage. A tens unit, for example, is kinda just tingly and buzzy because the pads are directly on your skin. Though if you turn it up enough, it'll also make your muscles tense/twitchy which can be fun if you're safe about it. A violet wand, on the other hand, doesn't actually touch the skin and instead creates sparks between the wand and your skin. So that feels a little more like a sharp, stinging pain. Almost like the world's tiniest, thinnest whip. It can also leave a tingly feeling afterwards if it's a higher voltage. But yeah, really depends on the type of electricity. A shock collar sometimes makes your blood feel like it's fizzing/bubbly and it's definitely a much harder (and less safe) form of estim. But violet wands, which is what most people think of when they think of electricity play, are mostly just delightfully sharp pain~

Don't worry, I'm very direct! I don't vaguepost, and if I did then I'd be like "this IS a vaguepost" in the tags lmao I'm not good at subtlety. Rest assured, though, I'm having plenty of fun~ And Moon said they're glad people have been taking it well!! We both feel strongly about the way people have been treating Sauce and the team, so it's good to know it really is just a vocal minority who are entitled bullies. Of course smooches!! Smooches for a strong, capable woman who just so happens to want to be forced onto her knees and used~

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

i lied (warning i don't think my commentary r that good) ⬇️

JJ cheered in the background, almost face-planting the ground as he struggled to get off his chair and call Pope.

that’s his bf fr

But watching Rafe Cameron—the boy who had idolized his father for years, now a man—sit in a chair facing countless cameras and strangers for hours as he recounted his life under Ward's control? That was a different kind of heartache.

he’s just a baby boy

ALT

View on Twitter

The barriers between you two seemed insurmountable.

climb that wall

Luke laughed, a deranged sound, and lunged. You swung the skillet with all your might. It connected with his shoulder, the impact reverberating up your arm

this scene is supposed to be serious but i imagined tommy and jerry where jerrry hit jerry with a pan or smth and the thing bounces off of him wobbly 😭😭ok back to reading (i wanna let u know the lengths i went through to make this gif bc i literally downloaded it and made it myself)

(i wanna let u know the lengths i went through to make this gif bc i literally downloaded it and made it myself)

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, a sob escaping instead. Your knees gave out, and you sank to the floor, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down, the silence deafening except for your labored breathing.

this is claustrophobic

"Sit here," Rafe said, motioning to the edge of the bed. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a first-aid kit. He kneeled in front of you again, this time with a different purpose. "Lemme see your hands."

MY BABY TAKING CARE OF MY OTHER BABY

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against the barrier you'd built around your heart. “Why—Why did you pick up the phone?”“You know why.”

can we please just fuck and make up

Without a word, he slipped off his shoes

this took me out white boy why do u have shoes in the HOUSEEEEE

“…I don’t care what it fucking takes,” Rafe all but spat, his tone filled with determination. “Yeah, I know the charges will stick. Just make sure he doesn’t get out on bail. I don’t want him anywhere near her again.”

rafe is such an action man we love 💕

"I owe you everything," he murmured.

screeching under my pillow 🦅

“You’ve been alone?” You all but sob, “You’ve been here all this time? By yourself?”

the way ur dialogue is like a movie SOMEONE GET GIGI INTO THE WRITERS ROOM STAT

Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was as if he was testing the waters, ensuring you were okay with this, and when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as his lips explored yours.

SEXYYY TIMEEE 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻 i am so unserious

“I don’t care,” you replied, shaking your head. “You fucked me after I got shot.”

say it

"That night was different. We were different."

oh fuck off being a gentleman pls ✋🏼🤨

His voice trailed off, but his hands spoke for him, tracing patterns along your sides, sending shivers through you. His touch was reverent as if he was rediscovering you, piece by piece.

why is this so beautiful

"I love the way you look at me," he continued, his hands slipping under your shirt, his shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. "Like I'm the only person in the world. Like I matter."

ohmygod 🙈 i feel like i am interrupting something

"You do matter," you whispered, your voice breaking. “You matter to me.”

BABIES ALL OF THEM !!!!!!!!!!!

Rafe's hands found your hips, his touch firm and reassuring. "I love you," he said again,  "And I need you to know that. Shit, I need you to feel it."

put it in already 🙄 (kidding i love this)

"My perfect girl," he growled against your lips.

ur making me blush

“Fuck, yes,” he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening. “You feel amazing.”

RAFE WHIMPERING I WONNN

"I can't believe you're real."

i swear to god if this turns out to be a dream i’m booking the next flight to ur city n murdering u in ur sleep (real)

final thoughts — this is so tender and sweet, i love this. i think i can offer no true words to have much i appreciate this series (also because i used it all up in the last review) but yes, like i said. compliments to the chefs for her dialogue and beautiful imagery. additionally, i wanna let u know that u give me so much inspiration. whenever i finish one of ur work, i'm like "i gotta get my ass up and work" because i always feel so motivated to write whenever i read ur stuff. <3 truly, t💘💘hank u for everything, i'm so excited (and sad... and horny...?) to see them come to a delightful end next part

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - six

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: domestic violence; blood; injuries; angst; smut;

word count: 7.6k

You saw it on the news before Sarah told you.

Ward was officially in police custody.

They were calling it the biggest crime operation in years, plastering his face on every corner of every newspaper in the country. You saw it first on your busted-up TV, the morning news anchor's serious tone making the gravity of the situation clear before Sarah had a chance to call.

He was stopped.

The man who caused so much pain and chaos to everyone you cared about was finally behind bars.

But your relief came with a bit of caution.

This was just the beginning. There was still a trial to face, and you knew how slippery Ward could be. He had enough money to buy whoever he wanted, and the justice system wasn’t always as just as you hoped. Trials could take months, even years before he was sentenced.

JJ cheered in the background, almost face-planting the ground as he struggled to get off his chair and call Pope. You hadn’t seen him this ecstatic in years, the hallways of your home echoing with “let’s fucking go, baby!” as he made his way upstairs.

You were content.

Was there really anything to be happy about?

Sure, a bad guy was getting what he deserved, but the destruction he left behind was still very much there.

Months ago, when the police contacted you again, you had refused to testify. What Ward did to you was terrifying, but what he did to Sarah, John B, and Rafe? They were the true witnesses to his evil. You barely got a taste of his wrath. You were lucky. You wanted to be there, of course. Every person Ward hurt deserved all the support they could get. But watching Rafe Cameron—the boy who had idolized his father for years, now a man—sit in a chair facing countless cameras and strangers for hours as he recounted his life under Ward's control? That was a different kind of heartache.

Rafe.

You hadn’t seen him since that day he dropped by, and it felt like he vanished into thin air. You didn’t see him around town, not at the beach, and he never stopped by your job. You started wondering if he’d been cooped up in that awful house all this time.

You couldn’t shake this feeling of worry, knowing he was stuck in the shadow of his dad’s mess.

Did he feel abandoned by you?

The thought of him, alone in that house, haunted you. You knew you should’ve reached out, found him as the town buzzed with the details of Ward’s arrest. More stories came out, each more horrifying than the last.

You almost gave in.

One evening, you found yourself riding past the Cameron estate, its looming structure a dark silhouette against the fading light. You almost went in, stopping by the gigantic gate, but then you saw movement inside and sped away on your bike.

You couldn’t do it. 

The barriers between you two seemed insurmountable.

As you walked home from your shift as a lifeguard at the beach, the sun setting behind you cast long shadows on the sand. The rhythmic crashing of the waves had always been your favorite soundtrack. You’ve spent most of your life inside the water, it was in your nature. 

Growing up, surf and swimming were your outlets to get away from your violent father and deadbeat mother. The ocean was your sanctuary, a place where you could forget the shouting matches, the broken furniture, and the empty bottles scattered around the house. When you were out there riding the waves or just floating on your back, everything else melted away. The water had a way of washing off the grime of your home life, even if just temporarily.

Unfortunately, once you set your feet on the sand and walked home, that feeling always vanished.

Tonight, as you made your way home, the familiar dread began to creep in. Both your parents were long gone, but the sense of dread would never leave you, always attached to that stupid house.

Even though the yelling had stopped, and the bottles were gone, the walls seemed to hold on to the echoes of your past. The creaky floorboards, the dim lighting, the chipped paint—You hated it.

You had considered moving out many times, but something always held you back. JJ. Money.

When you got there, the air felt unusually still.

JJ’s truck wasn’t parked in its usual spot, which was strange, but not entirely unheard of. What really unsettled you were the closed windows. You always left them open to let the ocean breeze in, but now they were all shut tight.

You called out your brother’s name, hoping to hear his usual welcoming shout, but there was only silence. You shrugged it off, thinking he was probably out on the boat or lost in his video games.

You dropped your bag by the door and walked further inside.

"JJ?" You called again.

As you stepped into the living room, the sight of your father, Luke, froze you in place. 

He seemed worse than you remembered—disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and reeking of alcohol.

Luke had been gone for a year, no contact, nothing. But the memories of his drunken rages and the bruises he left behind were still fresh. He was supposed to be miles away. JJ made sure of that, paying him off and helping him get off the island.

Seeing him was the last thing you were expecting.

"You shouldn’t be here,” You warned him, trying to mask the fear rising in your chest.

He laughed, a hollow, chilling sound. "I’m just here to see my kids. Is that so wrong?”

Liar.

You knew better than to trust him. “You need to leave. Now.”

His expression darkened, the smirk fading. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Watch me. Out.”

He took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender, “I just need a little loan.”

You tightened your grip on the edge of the doorframe, “No. You need to go, for good.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might listen. But then he took a step closer, and you could smell the stale alcohol on his breath.

“I’m not leaving without what I came for.”

“I don’t care,” You snapped, no longer the scared girl he was used to, “Get your ass out of my house before I call the cops.”

“This is my house!” He all but screamed, the veins in his neck visible.

“Not anymore,” Your heart pounded in your chest, and every fiber of your being screamed for JJ, wishing he was here, “I’m not afraid of you,” you said, more to convince yourself than him.

He took another step forward, his face twisted in anger. “You always were a stubborn little brat.”

“And you’re a piece of shit.”

He lunged. 

You barely dodged his grasp, stumbling back into the living room.

“Stay away from me!” you shouted, desperately looking for something to defend yourself with. 

Luke laughed, a dark, hollow sound, and came at you again. This time, he grabbed your arm, his grip painfully tight. You barely had time to react, instinctively raising your arms to block his advance. 

“You little bitch,” he snarled, pushing you against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of you, but you fought to stay focused. You couldn’t let him win, not again.

“You’re going to give me what I want,” he hissed, his breath hot and foul on your face.

“No, I’m not,” you spat back, summoning every ounce of courage you had.

With your free hand, you grabbed a nearby lamp and swung it at him. The base connected with his head, and he stumbled back, cursing.

“Bitch!” he roared, holding his head. Blood trickled down the side of his face, but the sight only seemed to enrage him further.

He charged at you, knocking the lamp from your hands and pinning you to the floor.

You were panicking, resorting to kicking and thrashing, trying to throw him off. “Get off me!” you screamed, clawing at his face.

He slapped you hard, the force of the blow making your vision blur. “You think you can fight me?” he snarled, his hands wrapping around your throat.

Gasping for air, you felt the desperation claw its way out. You’d been here too many times. Your hand groped blindly on the floor, finding a heavy candlestick. Your mom’s candlestick. With the last of your strength, you brought it down on his head.

Luke’s grip loosened, and he slumped to the side, groaning. You scrambled to your feet, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

He tried to get up, but you struck him again, this time with all your strength. The candlestick connected with a sickening thud, and your father collapsed, blood pooling around his head.

You stood over him, panting, the weight of what you’d done sinking in.

But then, with a guttural growl, he stirred and reached for your ankle. You staggered back, your heart hammering. 

“Stay down goddamit!” you shouted, raising the candlestick again.

He pushed himself up, eyes wild with rage. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he spat, lunging once more.

This time, you were ready.

As he reached for you, you twisted to the side, bringing your knee up sharply into his stomach. He grunted in pain, doubling over, and you seized the opportunity to land a sharp elbow to his nose. The crack was satisfying, but brief; he roared and grabbed at you blindly.

You ducked under his arm, grabbing a chair and shoving it between you. Luke, half-blind with fury, kicked the chair aside, but it gave you enough time to reach the kitchen. You grabbed the first thing you could find—a cast-iron skillet.

He stumbled into the kitchen after you, a trickle of blood from his nose mingling with the sweat and grime on his face.

“You just had to put up a fight, huh? Just like her.” he snarled.

“Stay back,” you warned, brandishing the skillet, “I’ll fucking do it.”

Luke laughed, a deranged sound, and lunged. You swung the skillet with all your might. It connected with his shoulder, the impact reverberating up your arm. He staggered, and you swung again, aiming for his head. The skillet hit with his temple, the sound echoing through the room and he collapsed, finally unmoving.

Oh fuck.

For a moment, the house was deathly silent.

You dropped the skillet, your hands trembling.

Kneeling down, you checked for a pulse. It was faint, but there. Relief and horror flooded through you simultaneously.  You almost killed him. There was so much blood. It stained the old carpet, the candlestick, your hands.

You backed away, your mind racing. 

What if he died? What if you’d killed him? Oh god, oh god. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You just wanted him gone, out of your life for good.

With trembling fingers, you picked up your phone, the weight of what had just happened settling heavily on your shoulders. Your heart raced with adrenaline and fear, each breath feeling labored as you scrolled through your contacts. You needed help, someone who could make sense of the chaos now consuming your life.

The screen lit up with familiar names, but your vision was blurred with tears.

Without fully realizing it, your finger landed on a contact you hadn’t called ever before. The phone rang, and you kept an eye on Luke, praying he wouldn’t move. It rang for only ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

“Maybank?”

“Rafe?” You gasped out, your voice breaking as you clutched the phone to your ear.

There was a brief pause, and then his voice came through, “Hey, hey. What's wrong? Are you okay?”

But you couldn't speak.

Hearing his voice after all this time, after everything that had happened, it was too much.

The fear, the relief, the chaos, all of it came crashing down, and your breath hitched.

You couldn’t think.

“Hey! Are you there? Talk to me!” Rafe's voice grew more urgent.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, a sob escaping instead. Your knees gave out, and you sank to the floor, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the walls pressing down, the silence deafening except for your labored breathing.

“Where are you?!”

You focused on his words, trying to match your breath to his timbre.

In. Out. In. Out.

It helped, if only a little. The shaking in your hands lessened, but the fear never eased.

“I think... I think I killed my dad.”

You looked at the bloodstained carpet, the unconscious body of your father still lying there, and the horror of it all washed over you again. 

“Are you home? Are you safe?”

You glanced around the living room, the familiar space now a scene of violence.

“I’m home. JJ isn’t here. I-I don’t know where he is.”

“I’m coming,” Rafe said firmly. “Stay there. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Rafe—” You began, but he cut you off.

“I’ll be there soon. Just hang on, okay?”

The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself staring at the door, willing Rafe to appear.

What were you going to do? How were you going to live with yourself if Luke died? This wasn’t you.

You didn’t hurt people. You just wanted a little bit of peace in your life, some quiet. Why did things never work out the way you wanted them to?

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, you heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. Moments later, the door burst open, and there he was.

“Maybank?”

He called out for you as he stepped inside.

Seconds later, he was standing in front of you, scanning the room, analyzing the scene before him. He rushed to your side, pulling you into his arms without hesitation. 

“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re gonna be okay.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as he guided you away from the scene, his eyes lingering briefly on your father’s motionless figure.

“What happened?” He asked softly, leading you to sit on the couch. 

“He just showed up out of nowhere. He wanted money. I told him to leave, but he wouldn’t. He got violent, and I... “

“It’s okay.”

His warmth helped.

But you still felt the overwhelming weight guilt eating you alive. The blood on your hands—it all felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.

“Have you called 911?”

You shook your head, lips trembling as you tried not to cry.

“Do you want me to?”

The thought of police cars and paramedics filling the house, made your stomach churn. The fear of what might happen if Luke woke up, or if he didn't, paralyzed you. It took you a second to realize he already had his phone out, pressed to his ear.

"I need an ambulance.”

He stayed on the line with the dispatcher, giving them your address and the details. Your ears were ringing, unable to make out exactly what he was saying. 

"They're on their way," he reassured softly. "It’s gonna be okay."

You nodded weakly, grappling with the aftermath. Rafe stayed close, seated next to you.

"They'll take him to the hospital," He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "He'll get the help he needs."

"I... I didn't mean to..." you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

Rafe’s hands griped your own, despite the blood coating it, "I know.”

The minutes felt like hours as you waited for the ambulance. You just wanted it to be over.

When the paramedics finally arrived, Rafe guided them to Luke's unconscious form while you sat numbly on the couch. They immediately went to work, assessing his condition and preparing him for transport. Police officers soon followed, asking questions, and taking statements. Rafe handled most of the interaction, shielding you from the brunt of their inquiries. You watched in stunned silence as they worked.

He stayed close by, offering quiet reassurances and answering the paramedics’ questions.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally moved Luke onto a stretcher and carried him out of the house. Rafe followed them to the door, speaking briefly with one of the paramedics before they loaded Luke into the ambulance and drove away.

He kneeled in front of you, “You can’t say here, okay? They called JJ, he’s on the mainland, but he’ll take the first ferry down here tomorrow.”

You nodded weakly, your body feeling as if it had been drained of all energy.

"Come on," Rafe urged, helping you to your feet. "Let's get you out of here."

He guided you out of the house and into his truck, the engine already running. The drive was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle from you.

Rafe reached over, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. You slumped back in the plush seat, eyes closed, trying to steady your breathing, too embarrassed to look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You didn't even register where you were headed until the truck pulled to a stop. When you finally opened your eyes, you realized you were at Rafe’s place.

Tanneyhill.

It felt odd, being there after so long, and under such circumstances. He helped you out of the truck, guiding you inside with a protective arm around your shoulders. 

"Sit down," he said gently, leading you to the living room. "I'll get you some water."

You sank into the expensive couch, feeling the soft cushions envelop you. It was weird sitting in Rafe’s home after everything that had happened.

He returned quickly with a glass of water, pressing it into your trembling hands.

"Drink," he instructed, sitting beside you.

You took a small sip, the cool water soothing your dry throat. Rafe watched you closely, concern etched across his features.

"You need to rest," he said. "I’ll be right here."

"But I—"

"You need to rest," he repeated firmly, but not unkindly. "We can talk more in the morning.”

There was a part of you that wanted to argue, to insist that you were fine, that you didn’t need his help. You’d done this for years, alone.

And yet, here he was, offering you help. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe you just missed him, but for once in your life, you didn’t fight him. 

You nodded, letting him take you upstairs.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, noticing the blood still on your skin and clothes. "You can’t go to bed like this."

At this point, you were too tired to speak, simply following his instructions as he led you inside, guiding you to the bathroom.

"Here," he said, turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature. "Take your time. I'll leave some clean clothes for you right outside the door."

You nodded gratefully, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

The sound of the water running was comforting, a small sense of normalcy. You stripped off your clothes, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled your shorts off.

The sight of the dried blood on your hands and shirt made you want to burst into tears, again.

Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water cascade over you, washing away the grime and blood. The heat soothed your tense muscles, and you stood there for a long time, eyes closed, letting the water work its magic. 

Slowly, you began to wash yourself, scrubbing away the remnants of your father’s presence. The soap smelled of lavender, and somehow you found yourself smiling for a second, realizing this was Rafe’s scent earlier. You washed your hair, the routine bringing you back to the present. As the water rinsed off, clarity slowly returned. You were still scared shitless, but that shower gave you a moment of peace. Stepping out, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel and took a deep breath.

Rafe had left a pair of sweatpants, boxers and a t-shirt outside the door, just as he said he would.

You dried off and changed into them, feeling a bit more like yourself. They were a little big, but they were warm and comfortable.

They were Rafe’s. 

You opened the bathroom door to find him waiting in the hallway. He seemed relieved to see you and you hated yourself for making him worry so bad.

"Feeling better?" 

"A little," you admitted. "Thank you."

He nodded. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

He led you to what you assumed was a guest room, the bed already made up with fresh sheets. 

"Sit here," Rafe said, motioning to the edge of the bed. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a first-aid kit. He kneeled in front of you again, this time with a different purpose. "Lemme see your hands."

You hesitated, then slowly extended them. They were scratched and bruised, remnants of how fucked up your father was.

Rafe’s touch was gentle as he cleaned the wounds, using antiseptic wipes to carefully remove the blood that you hadn’t been able to get rid of in the shower. 

“This might sting a bit,” he murmured, his voice soothing despite the warning.

It made you wince, but you bit your lip, staying silent.

"I’m sorry," he said, noticing your discomfort.

"’M used to it. It’s okay,” You nodded, biting your lip as he cleaned the wound. 

The antiseptic burned, but you focused on Rafe’s face, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the softness in his eyes as he wrapped your hand with practiced care. 

“I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”

Rafe paused, his hands stilling for a moment.

“You’re not a mess.”

Your chuckle was short and stifled, “Right.”

His fingers continued their work, securing the bandage with gentle precision. “I mean it.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing against the barrier you'd built around your heart. “Why—Why did you pick up the phone?”

“You know why.”

Rafe’s tone was final, leaving no room for conversation as he finished wrapping your hand and set it gently in your lap.

“There,” he said, “All done.”

You sank into the mattress as he pulled the blankets over you.

He was tucking you to bed, so…lovely, so not like the Rafe you met years ago. It made your heart hurt. No one had ever cleaned your wounds. 

“C-Can you stay here?”

Rafe paused, turning from where he was adjusting the pillows, "I don’t think—”

“Please.”

Without a word, he slipped off his shoes, climbing into bed beside you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body against yours, his steady heartbeat, the scent of lavender and something uniquely Rafe—it all made you feel safer than you had in a long time.

"It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the tears start to flow again, but this time they were tears of release, of letting go. Rafe held you tighter, his hands gently rubbing your back, his touch tender.

He didn't say anything more, just held you. As the minutes passed, your breathing gradually slowed, matching the rhythm of his. The tension in your body began to melt away, your eyes grew heavy. 

"Thank you," Your voice was muffled against his chest. "For everything."

Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Sleep.”

You snuggled closer, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, finally feeling at home.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, the warmth of Rafe’s embrace replaced by the cold reality of the previous night’s events. The room was dimly lit, the morning sun casting soft rays through the curtains. You sat up, your mind hazy with sleep, and glanced around, your heart sinking as you realized Rafe was nowhere to be seen.

For a moment, you wondered if it had all been a dream, but the dried blood on your clothes, lying by the floor and the faint echo of fear told you otherwise. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. 

Your father, the struggle, the blood—Rafe’s comforting presence.

You felt an immense amount of guilt as you remembered how you had leaned on him for support after you cut him out of your life.

He was already dealing with so much because of his own father, and now you had burdened him with your problems.

You rose from the bed, the oversized sweatpants and t-shirt Rafe had given you hanging loosely on your frame. You made your way to the door, listening for any sounds that might indicate where he had gone. As you walked down the hallway, you heard a faint voice coming from the kitchen. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized Rafe’s voice, speaking in low, urgent tones.

You hesitated for a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. Slowly, you made your way towards the kitchen, the sound of Rafe’s voice growing clearer with each step.

“…I don’t care what it fucking takes,” Rafe all but spat, his tone filled with determination. “Yeah, I know the charges will stick. Just make sure he doesn’t get out on bail. I don’t want him anywhere near her again.”

He paused, listening intently. You took a step closer, peering around the corner to see him standing by the kitchen counter, his phone pressed to his ear. The intensity in his eyes was unlike anything you’d seen before.

“No, she’s fine,” he continued, “But I want to make sure she stays that way.”

You stopped in your tracks, your breath catching in your throat. Rafe was talking about your father, and the realization hit you in the face.

He was trying to protect you, even now.

“Rafe…” 

Rafe turned around, his eyes widening as he saw you standing there.

“I’ll call you later." He quickly ended the call, slipping his phone into his pocket as he approached you, “Hey, you’re awake,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

“What were you doing?” you asked, “Who were you talking to?”

“Hmm?”

“Rafe,” You warn, too tired to play games, “Who were you talking to?”

He sighed, looking impossibly uncomfortable as you sized him up, “My lawyer. Getting a restraining order for you.”

The confirmation nearly made your brain split into two.

“What?”

Rafe hesitated, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you. Not that he even tried lately. He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, a gesture you recognized as a sign of his unease. 

"I'm trying to get a restraining order against your father."

"Why?"

His eyes bore into yours, a silent plea for you to understand, “Because you need one.”

Rafe was going to bat for you, putting himself in the line of fire to protect you from the man who had haunted your life for so long. Tears welled up in your eyes as the enormity of his actions sank in.

“I’m sorry.”

He ran a hand over his face.

“Maybank, what happened last night… it’s not something you should ever have to deal with. I should’ve been here sooner. I should’ve—"

“You couldn’t have known.”

Rafe shook his head, "I should've been here.”

You walked closer, closing the distance between you. "Rafe, you don't owe me anything."

He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he gently cupped your cheek. His touch was familiar, comforting and you leaned into it, closing your eyes briefly.

"I owe you everything," he murmured. 

You let out a shaky breath, “Don’t say that.”

He tilted your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes, his thumb brushing away a stray tear, “You think I’d be there if it wasn’t for you? Shit— Pretty, look around. It’s just me.”

Your heart pounded in your ribcage, the sincerity in his eyes making it hard to breathe.

You had spent so long building walls, convincing yourself that you didn’t need anyone, that you could handle everything on your own.

“You’ve been alone?” You all but sob, “You’ve been here all this time? By yourself?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” His hand on your cheek trembled slightly, the vulnerability in his voice laying his heart bare. “I’m okay, see?”

You reached up, covering his hand with yours, “I was so angry at you.”

“Baby—”

“You don’t understand,” you explained, voice cracking slightly, “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”

He drew you closer, his other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him. You melted into him instantly. 

"I deserved it,” Rafe muttered, his breath warm against your ear.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"You told me you were getting clean, that you were seeing a psychologist, and I-I wasn’t there.”

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading with you to understand. “I was a train wreck, and I hurt you. You needed to protect yourself.”

“But I should’ve been there for you,” you insisted, your voice breaking. “You were trying to get better, and I just... walked away.”

“Jesus Christ Maybank” He tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a groan, “Stop the waterfloods, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Shut up,” You let out a genuine laugh, despite the ugly crying, “’M trying to apologize—“

“You don’t have to, baby,” He cut you off, shaking his head, “Not to me, or anyone else.”

His breath mingled with yours, his presence soothing you in a way you hadn’t felt in months.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was as if he was testing the waters, ensuring you were okay with this, and when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as his lips explored yours.

You felt yourself give in to him, your hands gripping his shirt to make sure it was real.

You’d dreamed about him for too damn long to understand the difference. The kiss was slow, deliberate…loving. Each touch, each movement, was a reassurance, a silent promise that he was here, that he wouldn’t let go. 

As you broke apart, gasping for air, lips swollen and shining, Rafe rested his forehead against yours again, his breathing ragged.

“Can’t believe you made me fall in love with a pogue.”

Oh.

You blinked, caught off guard.

“In love?”

Rafe bit his lower lip, “Yeah.”

You could see the anxiety roaring inside him. The way his shoulders seemed to squeeze back in, eyes dropping to your lips. 

"I never thought I'd fall for a kook," you teased gently, brushing your fingers lightly against his cheek.

“Don’t play with me,” He huffed, dropping his head against your shoulder, teeth grazing against your skin, “Fucking hell.”

You tilted his chin up gently, meeting his gaze with sincerity, “I mean it, Cameron.”

His eyes examined yours for a long moment as if confirming your words. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you once more. This time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty.

His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was so different from the one before. You could feel the heat building between you, that undeniable chemistry pulling you together.

His hands slipped under your shirt, his shirt, the touch of his fingertips on your bare skin sending shivers down your spine. Rafe’s lips trailed down your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, making you dizzy with want.

“I need you,” your voice's breathless, fingers clutching at his shoulders.

He paused, lifting his head to look at you, blue eyes darken with desire.

“You’re hurt,” he gulped, “Last night—”

“I don’t care,” you replied, shaking your head. “You fucked me after I got shot.”

"That night was different. We were different."

You nodded, the memory of that night vivid in your mind. The urgency, the desperation, the way you had clung to each other as if you were drowning.

He hesitated for a moment longer, his thumb brushing over the bruise on your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you promised, pulling him back to you. “I trust you.”

That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed. His restrain visibly slipped away as his lips found yours again as he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you upstairs, to bed and then laying you down gently as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

Rafe hovered over you, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off his shirt. You reached up, tracing the lines of his muscles, marveling at the way they moved under your touch. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands working on the buttons of your shirt.

The clothes disappeared in a blur, and then it was just the two of you, skin against skin, only underwear. His hands and lips were everywhere.

“Y’know how much I missed you?”

You sighed, a smile playing at your lips as you cupped his face, “Tell me.”

Rafe’s breath hitched, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mixture of tenderness and desperation.

“Every damn day. Every fucking minute. I’d close my eyes and all I could see was you.”

His voice trailed off, but his hands spoke for him, tracing patterns along your sides, sending shivers through you. His touch was reverent as if he was rediscovering you, piece by piece.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your bodies aligning perfectly. 

“I’m here now.”

Rafe’s lips curved into a smile against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you steady. “You sure you’re okay?” 

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “More than okay. I want this. I want you.”

He kissed his way down your neck, his lips leaving a trail of heat as they moved lower.

“I love the way you laugh," he purred against your skin, his lips trailing down your collarbone. "The way your eyes light up when you talk about something you care about. How strong you are, even when you don't realize it."

You shivered at his words, your heart swelling with love for the man holding you so tenderly. "Rafe..."

He kissed your lips softly, silencing you.

"I love the way you look at me," he continued, his hands slipping under your shirt, his shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. "Like I'm the only person in the world. Like I matter."

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words, his touch.

"You do matter," you whispered, your voice breaking. “You matter to me.”

Rafe's hands moved lower, teasing the waistband of your, his, boxers.

“I love how brave you are," he said, his voice husky, "How you face everything, even when it's terrifying."

He slid them down slowly, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Last night," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I was terrified. I thought I was gonna lose you.”

You reached for him, your fingers tangling in his grown-out hair, pulling him closer. "I'm here," your lips brushed against his, "I'm right here."

Rafe's hands found your hips, his touch firm and reassuring. "I love you," he said again,  "And I need you to know that. Shit, I need you to feel it."

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I do. I feel it."

He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a desperate urgency. He took his time, worshiping you with every touch, every kiss, making sure you knew exactly how much you meant to him.

His lips found your breasts, kissing and teasing, his hands caressing your sides, your hips. You moaned, arching into his touch, your body trembling with need. "Rafe..."

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a small smile playing at his lips.

"I love the way you say my name. Like it's the only word that matters."

He kissed his way down your stomach, his hands sliding lower, teasing you, driving you wild with anticipation. "I love the way you taste," he breathed, hot against your skin. "The way you feel."

You gasped, your body arching off the bed as his fingers found you, teasing, exploring. 

"Rafe, please..."

He kissed his way back up your body, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss.

"I've got you. I'm here. Tell me if you want me to stop."

You shook your head, urging him on. "Don't stop.”

He kissed your hip bones, his hands gently spreading your legs wider. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the intensity in them made your breath catch. He moved lower, his lips trailing down your inner thigh, his fingers lightly caressing your other leg.

When his mouth finally reached your core, you gasped, your body arching off the bed. His tongue flicked out, teasing you, tasting you.

The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through you. Fuck you missed this.

Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightened, holding you in place as he continued his slow, deliberate assault.

He explored you with his tongue, each movement precise, intentional. He found a rhythm that made your head spin, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes. You moaned, your fingers tightening in his short strands, pulling him closer, needing more.

Rafe responded to your silent plea, his tongue delving deeper, his hands gripping your thighs harder. The pressure built, an overwhelming wave of pleasure that threatened to consume you. He groaned against you, the vibration sending you even higher.

"Oh, Rafe," you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

He didn't.

He increased his pace, his tongue moving faster, his hands sliding under your hips, lifting you slightly to give him better access. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

Rafe’s mouth never left you, his tongue driving you to the brink. You cried out his name, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge. He sucked gently, his tongue flicking rapidly, and that was all it took. You shattered, not a wave, but an entire ocean of ecstasy crashing over you, your vision going white as the pleasure consumed you.

He continued his ministrations, guiding you through your orgasm, his tongue and lips never slowing, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

When you finally came down, your body spent and trembling, Rafe kissed his way back up your body, his hands soothing the aftershocks with gentle caresses.

He hovered over you, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the intimacy of it making your heart swell.

"My perfect girl," he growled against your lips.

Your bruised hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held himself back. He shifted, pressing his hips against yours, letting you feel his arousal. You moaned into his mouth, your hands moving lower, wanting to touch him, to feel him inside you.

Rafe’s breath hitched as your fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, teasing him.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked again. 

He cared so much it nearly sent you into an emotional spiral again.

 “I’ve never been more sure.”

That was all he needed.

In one swift motion, he shed his boxers, and you took in the sight of him, hard and ready. He moved over you, positioning himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. He took his time, teasing you with his fingers, making sure you were ready for him.

You gasped, arching your back as he entered you slowly, his movements deliberate, and controlled.

God, you missed feeling every inch of him. 

He paused, giving you a moment to adjust, his forehead resting against yours. “Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned, his voice strained with restraint.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to move. “Don’t hold back,” you almost sobbed, your breath hot against his ear. “I want all of you.”

Rafe needed no further encouragement.

He began to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and controlled. The pleasure built with every movement, the sensation of him filling you completely driving you wild. Your fingers dug into his back, your nails leaving marks as you clung to him, needing the connection.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips, the sensation of his lips on yours amplifying the pleasure. His hands roamed over your body, one sliding under your back to pull you closer, the other tangling in your hair, holding you in place as he devoured you. You matched his rhythm, you bodies moving together in perfect harmony. Rafe’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his control slipping.

His words, the sound of his voice, sent shivers down your spine.

“Don't stop, baby- Oh, fuckkk. Please, d-don't stop."

"I won't," he promised, his voice a low growl. “Never stopping."

With those words, he lost the last of his restraint, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, driving you both toward the edge. The room filled with the sounds of your passion, the slap of skin against skin that made you absolute feral for him, the desperate moans and gasps of pleasure.

You didn’t understand the sudden urge, but before you could think about it, you were pushing against Rafe’s chest.

“Your turn,” you murmured, flipping him onto his back with ease and straddling him. 

He looked up at you slightly startled, hands resting on your plush hips as you settled over him and you swore he never looked prettier.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his hands sliding up your sides, over your tits, cupping them gently. “Every part of you.”

You leaned down, his stubble grazing your skin, burning you most deliciously. You feel him rubbing against you, his tip touching your clit just right and you couldn’t help the satisfied moan that escaped your lips. You broke the kiss, sitting up and grinding your hips against his, feeling the heat building between you again.

“You like that?” you teased, your voice low and sultry, your fingers trailing down his chest.

“Fuck, yes,” he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening. “You feel amazing.”

You reached between you, guiding him to your entrance. The sensation of him sliding back inside you was electric, drawing a gasp from both of you. You started to move, slow at first, savoring the feeling of him filling you completely.

Rafe’s hands roamed over your body, caressing, teasing, driving you wild. “God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours. “Ride me, baby. I want to see you come again.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, spurring you on. You increased your pace, rolling your hips, finding the angle that drove you both to the edge. Your hands braced against his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, faster.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. “You feel so good inside me.”

He groaned, “You can’t be real,” his hands guided your hips, urging you to move faster. “This can’t be real—Shit, keep doing that.”

The pleasure built with every movement, your bodies moving together like they never parted.

You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the tension building, ready to snap. Rafe’s hands slid up to your breasts, teasing your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“Come for me, baby,” Rafe urged, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come around me.”

His words pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body arching, your vision going white as the orgasm crashed over you. Rafe groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours as he followed you into ecstasy, his release filling you, pretty hisses and groans filling your ears.

You collapsed against him, both of you breathless, spent, and completely satisfied. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his lips brushing against your ear.

You buried your face in his neck, overwhelmed by how loved you felt. You’d never felt anything like this before. His heartbeat echoed against your chest.

As you started to shift to look at him, you noticed he was staring at you with an expression that caught you off guard. His eyes were wide, intense and unwavering, almost as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"What?" you asked softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the slight confusion.

Rafe blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. His hand reached up to gently trace your cheekbone.

"I can't believe you're real."

"Rafe..." 

He silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips brushing against yours in a tender caress. "I love you, Pretty Maybank."

"I love you too.”

[finsterhund]

Liveblog kinda I guess?

Someone recommended I watch the horror movie "Come Play" (2020) because "that's basically you" and yeah ten minutes in and this is pretty much exactly what 2010s Cayden embodiment would be. Except pure and not deranged lmaoooo.

So far this seems to be a more typical horror movie so it's more of an "eat snacks and try to guess when a jump scare is happening" experience which is usually what I watch. It's serviceable if generic. Not really bringing anything new to the table or being too interesting. I've been focusing a lot on artsy indie horror of late so it's good to change things up and go back into something knowing it's not going to completely flood my brain. It's nice to have neurodivergent kid protagonist representation that doesn't turn the kid into a source of "ooooh scary" for the sake of "disability weird and creepy" either. I kept bracing for "autism scary" but they never resorted to that.

Jealous of the cool house he lives in. This is quickly becoming a pattern.

The picture book monster designs are straight up spectres. I swear to fuck. If the little common spectres could grow up I guess. I want the in-universe book as like a hardcover or something it's cute. Can't tell if it's a ploy or if it's really a heartfelt monster friend yet. That's the fun of it. Could be either OR BOTH. I'd love to see that more in things. Where a supernatural creature is a predator with hunting instincts but it's not evil and will potentially under ideal circumstances be able to pack bond with humans who are otherwise a prey item.

Not gonna lie thinking about it now having it being central to the plot of a movie I am somewhat jealous of the availability of digital speaking devices possible with today's technology. I would have been far more articulate if I had something like that when my selective mutism was at its worst. May have made it easier for me to break into the wider world. Get more of a headstart. Saying that though the movie is quick to remind that neurotypicals can be fucking mean and stupid about accessibility tools. Not to go on and bash neurotypicals for seven hours straight but people get so fucking weird about this sort of thing. Call us unable to adapt to things but can't just roll with it when it comes to fairly cut and dry extensions of the self.

By the time I finally had an assistance device (first laptop) it was in high school and everyone learned to mind their own fucking business. I'd get chewed out by the occasional teacher but they quickly discovered I can't write for shit and that it was the only possible way I could take notes.

I'm expecting the "phone bad" plot to be stupid and drag my experience down but we will see.

I'm not liking the parents very much but how much of that is personal bias I cannot say. I may just be very stressed at the moment and projecting onto characters I know next to nothing about yet. The mom seems ok but the dad has a classic case of the "not really being there in equal measure as the mom is" that might imply worse.

Props to how you can really hear the parent's opinions and the learned ableism through the kid in Oliver's class whinging about how he gets "special treatment" for having use of a phone for accessibility. It really sounds like the sort of stuff you just know the kid is parroting from their shitty parent. The teacher could have handled it better than making it about that kid doing something to not deserve his phone as a toy. Should have instead been explaining that Oliver literally needs his for accessibility. But a lot of the time that is how these situations are mishandled by well-meaning but otherwise incorrect neurotypicals. The "clap back" at the kid who played Fortnite on his phone rather than explaining that the nonverbal kid uses his as a TOOL. and that's what's different.

The scene where the one kid from the bully's group lures Oliver with surface niceness just to get him away from prying eyes so their group can berate him is perfectly illustrated also. Because yeah they know to superficially not bully someone with disabilities, they know how to play nice, and the whole "pretending to be your friend to fuck with you" shit was very prevalent. I like how despite this being handled well it's not overly triggering like it could be.

God watching this just makes me wish we could have grown up together. This is a fictional fucking character but I know what he's going through so much and it's just not fair.

A lot of the spooky shit is interesting and isn't overdone visuals. Like the part with the papers in the car park. The camera filter scene also got me too. Because I am scared of cameras and the dark and faces. 🙃 The movie doesn't have deep psychological environmentally impressive fear building but the simple jump scares don't feel shitty either. It's basic for a horror movie but inoffensive.

Also I was right in the beginning to feel sus about the parents. They're having fights about Oliver and the mom is going on about how much she wishes she could "get rid of that part of him" so that she "wouldn't have to deal with it" as if it isn't literally a facet of who he is. The dad responds that it wouldn't be him then. The mom I swear to fuck I hate her. Shut the hell up "you have any idea what it's like for your own child to never look you in the eyes?" Bitch shut up. The kid doesn't feel comfortable with eye contact it's one little fucking thing to you but it's really significant issues for him. The mom is going on about how he apparently loves the dad but hates her. Oh I don't know autism warrior mom Karen perhaps he is able to tell and feel the way you talk and think about him? Like this? Right now? And that's why he doesn't feel comfortable or safe around you? Do you magically think he doesn't understand or feel the energy and vibes you emit about him? He's autistic, not mindless. For fucks sake. You think because he doesn't do things the way you think is the only way to do them he isn't able to at all? Gah. The dad being less present in his life is a double edged sword. Negative in that he could be there more for him but positive in the fact that when he is there he isn't a fucking bitch. Of course the kid is going to like him more. (I am taking this too personally I realize but jesus christ does this really hit at a sore spot)

"Larry" communicating with the same speech program Oliver uses is supposed to be creepy. They have him looking shocked and play suspense chords but I just think it's sweet. They're able to use the same aid and it's probably the first time Oliver has really had that sense of familiarity. I know that this is a monster and it's probably gonna try to eat him or something but so far the literal spectre ass looking demon thing has been more compassionate, respectful, considerate, and willing to be accessible to Oliver than any other major character. It's just scary and from another dimension. It feels like the monster is an allegory for having a disability that you're ostracized for.

Fucking screaming at the mom planning get togethers with the bully just because she's friends with his mom. Again, this is a common thing and it doesn't work out anywhere near as much as it should for parents to keep doing. But the mom being a fucking shit I realize she's likely never going to intentionally try to go out and find other disabled and/or neurodivergent kids to introduce Oliver to. These sorts of parents hope their kid will find "normal" friends that will make them "more normal" they already have to "suffer" "dealing with" their disabled kid they're not going to want to care for his peers too. 😔

The mom fucking going "can you try and have some fun for me?" You are literally forcing your kid to hang out with someone they don't want to, that I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt in assuming you aren't aware is bullying him. You are taking away what little autonomy he has in his life at the present. God. And the cherry on top is him leaving a situation that's uncomfortable to him (terrified his phone is possessed) and the mom of course assumes it's all about her, that he's avoiding her.

God the bully's whole friend group gets invited to the sleepover and the literal first interaction I see of the bully's mom with him is her joking about how she wants to get rid of him and load him off on Oliver's mom. Just casually joking about not wanting to be around your son to his face. That's lovely.

Christ the bully's mom asking Oliver's mom if she can say hi to him. As if he's her pet and not his own person. 😬 100% why the bully is like this.

CHRIST THE BULLY KIDS WERE LIKE "WHYS HE BEING WEIRD?" AND BEFORE THE BULLY'S MOM CAN TELL HIM OFF OLIVER'S MOM SAYS "ITS OKAY" I want Larry to kill this fuck so bad. She then goes on to explain stimming... I guess. The fact that the moms are talking about his personal developmental milestones also just right in front of him and the other kids. Man for fucks sake stop it. Can you at least make the effort to pretend to give him a level of privacy and dignity?

It's really hard at times to not want the bully kids to get got by the monster lol. Sometimes their lines make it clear they're just wildly misinformed and other times there's that level of cruelty that I still don't know where some kids get it from and other times they're behaving a bit too "adult wrote the lines" bully cliche.

Larry being described as pale when he's been depicted until this point as corpse-black threw me for a loop. Was hoping this wouldn't end up being another pasty white "rake-esque" creature. It got old fast lol

I get the feeling that if the bullies don't die they're gonna end up friends with Oliver through shared trauma. Jokes on you nobody's getting out of this neurotypical.

Yeah the "real life" Larry design is just uninspired copy of the rake. The visual effects are good but man.

I don't get why they blamed Oliver for that shit with the book though. Like they witnessed all the bulbs go and the creepy ebook and the table move on its own. What do they think he's got telekinesis or something? What happened really doesn't seem like something they'd all collectively make up the same story to blame on him. If that actually happened they'd be going on about ghosts or some shit surely? Frustrated me and I had to pause for a bit.

Have yet to see "phone bad" at all and maybe they won't do that. But the mom is a sack of shit so don't hold your breath.

God the mom thinking he did it. Yeah I'm sure your kid did all that with his mind. Of course.

Also next day at school one of the bully kids has a chew stim????? He's never shown with one before. He's only got it now that their ringleader is absent from school? Which shows I guess that they join him in picking on the more obviously neurodivergent kid to try and prevent him from targeting them as well? Sadly a realistic thing that happens also. Bully kid is clearly traumatized so I guess my joke about nobody leaving this story neurotypical is coming true to some extent. Then he confesses it wasn't Oliver but the Larry entity. The weird thing is the mom believes now too because she was in the house when it again started fucking with shit but even though it's shown to have control over the house she zeros in on the tablet. Eventually the dad finally takes Oliver and immediately he's a better parent. Brought him to his job at a toll booth car park and encourages him to participate and explains to him aspects of the job that make it accessible. Saying that you can watch cartoons when you're not dealing with customers. I feel he means well.

Find it funny that everyone's immediate first reaction to the Larry book showing up randomly is to read it. And read it aloud. Oh neat a spooky monster kids book is on this ipad. Gonna read it out loud. I've got nothing better to do.

Again, the different ways they show that the invisible entity is in the physical world and where/how it's moving is pretty cool. The cameras, the laser sight measurement tool, THE STICKY HAND. The use of the sticky hand is GOATed

This fucking speech therapist is bringing up PHYSICAL EMPATHS. Aka pseudoscience. Being like "the reason you are also experiencing this creature from Oliver's imagination is because you love him very much" which is bullshit because 1. she fucking doesn't. 2. The closest observed condition that this could even remotely be compared to is Folie à Deux. There is no fucking basis of "empaths" as having psychosomatic reactions like this in real life wtfffffff. Everyone in this movie except for the goddamn monster and kinda the dad is absent incompetent negligent or stupid to the point of infuriating ineptitude in being there for Oliver. Christ. Then this stupid fucking mom is like "oh I destroyed *that* device. As if the problem was a single thing and not idk. It did stuff in your fucking house. What is the logic of this!? They even discussed how Oliver has been using multiple screens for so and so long period of time wtffffff

Oh I fucking knew it was the bully kid's mom who was why he turned out that way. The reveal felt so validating. These poor kids. The bitch tricked her kid into thinking Oliver hated him and turned him against him. Jesus Christ. Felt so gratifying when they realized and made up. She is now the character I want to die the most. Second is Oliver's mom obviously.

The later parts of the Larry book make it clear that the monster is at the very least possessive and will kill those who get in its way but still no confirmation if it has ulterior motives to making friends. It looks like it's just really possessive and lonely. Are they trying to set it up as being evil???

The scene with the streetlights going off behind the car is sick af. God. Too bad Larry himself the real world version sucks. Got a closeup of his face and it's just not working for me as a design. Took the mom way too long to realize that this thing wasn't tied to just the one tablet. The way it talks by skipping channels to different words is a neat concept but ruins the mystery of it. Okay Larry you go and villain monologue to the mom through the TV. That's great. Finally we get to the "phone bad"-ism where "everyone's so lonely looking at their screens all the time that it literally created Larry out of their loneliness" man wtf. If you love someone who's in another continent go fuck yourself I guess. You're actually lonely. You don't have real relationship through the screen. Never mind the fact that the main character is literally only so reliant on electronics because it's his fucking accessibility device. He is using it to communicate in person. God they didn't think this through. Also this movie literally came out in 2020 I think Larry being born is small potatoes compared to the obvious alternative of everyone dying from a certain pandemic. Hmmm 😬

I was really hoping it wouldn't pull a "phone bad" but somehow it held off on doing so and then did so in a way that's somehow worse.

God the mom being like "Larry is lonely? How do you think I would feel if Larry took Oliver?" Always making it about you. Not to mention the fact that you treat him bad and talk shit about him and say that he doesn't love you as much as his father because he won't overstep his own personal boundaries for your benefit. Everything you've done and said up until this point would indicate that you'd enjoy your life better if it did just go and take Oliver.

God the mom is something else. running around like a chicken with its head cut off grabbing every screen in sight in the house and yeeting it out the door when the obvious solution is to take Oliver somewhere else. Then when I think it won't get any worse she's unscrewing all the fucking lightbulbs. Making a racket. Oliver is having a meltdown and the bitch screams at him "can't you just be normal for one second" oh I dunno. You're acting like a complete mindless stupid dumb animal right now, assuming it's because you're stressed. Maybe have some of that fucking "you love him so much empathy" the speech therapist thinks you have for once and understand that he's stressed and scared out of his mind. The irony that Oliver has handled everything better than her is obvious to seemingly everyone except her and the writer. Ugh.

Saw a blurry dark camera angle of toys on the floor and immediately went "lol Skinamarink" so my brain is broken obviously.

Oh fuck it wasn't the bully's mom who lied and manipulated the situation and ruined the friendship (???) It was Oliver's stupid fucking mom? (Honestly I think it was equal parts both of them but ymmv. I do not understand this reveal) And during this reveal she's trying to force him to look her in the eyes. And they're hiding from the monster. And poor Oliver writes that he wants it to take him because she ruined his friendship 😭 god. I just can't.

First decent thing this shitheel does is recognize that Oliver calms himself with the SpongeBob theme song and hums it to him. It came out of nowhere. Really didn't feel this character has grown enough for this moment. Doesn't feel deserved.

Yeah the clearer the shots we get of Larry the more I can see his real world design sucks. Disappointing. I must stress the practical effects that bring him to life are incredible. Great effects. Just I'm so tired of oversaturated trope of tall pale humanoid creature. He's got pretty boring designed feet and hands too like. It's like if they took all the style out of the monster designs in Little Nightmares. So you're left with mildly uncanny valley stretched out hairless man.

The mom is something else. "This thing is powered by electricity. Why do you keep saying for us to go to the field???!!" Oh I don't know 😒 truly one of life's greatest mysteries.

The mom sacrificed herself to the creature which is honestly the only way I think she could have redeemed herself. Kinda saw this coming with the "only goes away when you finish the story, give it your hand" thing. Doesn't feel at all earned. I mean yeah she gave up her life to protect him even though she did it right in front of him and further traumatized him 🙃 again, the story keeps having this issue where it will suddenly insist the whole universe revolves around Oliver's mom.

There's some pretty big storytelling inconsistency whiplash in this movie. It really had no business sympathizing with the mom so much. She literally caused every non supernatural problem and significantly worsened the supernatural ones. In the end she like... comes back as a ghost and spends time with him and definitely loves him unconditionally now. We hope. The movie wants us to think this. She has the teensiest amount of redemption and it implies more than shows that she's learned from her negligence and wrongdoing.

I did like a lot of what this movie did but god the autism mom martyr complex shit is genuinely wrong and bad. The narrative that parents of autistic children are heroes and the true "victims" of the "disease" for their insurmountably good deed of not abandoning their own children and blah blah blah is wretched. It's the mindset that makes the "charity" Autism Speaks so insidious. They don't care about autistic people. They care about the poor undeserving neurotypicals who are forced to have autism in their lives 😒

This movie could have been an absolute banger if it instead focused on Oliver dealing with this creature. Hell, I was hoping that he would bring it into the real world to stay rather than what it wanted which was the reverse and after the friendship he had with bully kid was repaired he'd introduce Larry into their newly forming friend group or some shit. Or that the creature was insidiously trying to take advantage of the situation to capture him or something. But no. We got "phones bad" because they somehow created this creature who only wants friends but is also violent and scary, and several times is shown in a comparative way to the autistic boy, and we have shitty mother redemption. God.

It really felt like there was a good story here and a lot of stuff was really good but the bad shit is impossible to ignore. The actors were all good but yeah there's some serious issues with the writing and message. Very frustrating. They didn't use the kid being autistic for horror because instead they made the monster essentially a representation of a neurodivergent child and blamed his creation on the use of the very same electronic devices that the autistic boy used to empower himself and have more autonomy. Yeesh that's a big issue.

Oliver was such a tender sweetheart literally didn't deserve any of this.

I went into this thinking "oh boy this is just run of the mill monster horror shit that has a relatable protagonist unlike the artsy horror this isn't gonna make me use my brain" but no that quickly changed.

It is worth noting that I never finished the Babadook because of all the issues I had with it. This feels like it wanted to right those wrongs but still valued neurotypical comfort and status quo over neurodivergent child acceptance.

Idk I'm probably way too hard on the mom character but just this once can we have an autistic kid being loved not in spite of his autism but including his autism? Please?

[greenhappyseed]

BnHA Ch.327 - Review, parallels & comparisons

Not gonna lie, this chapter gave us lots of soft Shoto and ass shots. Both, as it turns out, are important.

In the spirit of “Rest,” I don’t really feel like going over the chapter scene by scene. Instead, let’s see how the “rest” theme plays out across our key characters, because some interesting things happen, especially on the heels of last week’s “Who are you really?” This chapter is not just about Izuku retiring “Dark Deku” — after a cleansing bath there are a few characters ready to lay old ideals and identities to rest, and assert new mission statements for who they want to be.

Ochako. We finally have Izuku thinking about Ochako (now only 3892 more times before it’s equal to how often All Might thinks about Inko). But Ochako is already exhausted and fast asleep. She didn’t hang around to see Izuku after the bath, and she didn’t try to be near him at any point; she just conked out. In other words, she didn’t force anything due to a crush. Smart, considering that relationships based on tense experiences never work.

Bakugo didn’t give his ego a rest, insisting to everyone that he’s gonna be #1. Because he is, and will remain, the image of perfect victory. BUT he signals that he’s trying to give the name “Deku” a rest and switch to “Izuku,” as befits childhood best friends. Of course Bakugo says this while he’s in the water with Izuku, with everything literally bare (and Izuku returns the “challenge” without missing a beat ETA: check out @hanashimas great post on why Izuku is only sassy in English). Oh Hori, you cheeky bastard.

Later, Bakugo doesn’t go near Izuku in the common room and he’s not visible when All Might is around because it would be awkward to talk to him, but Bakugo is there when the “strongest in the class” is nurturing and gentle to Izuku. And Bakugo finally got to see that people DO care about Shoto and his family as Shoto speaks plainly about who he really is and who he wants to be.

Shoto is in the shlubbiest outfit I can recall him wearing, and initially seems a touch off brand even if he's still handsome (although he’s not shown engaging in any of the bath shenanigans, which is very on brand for him). The baggy tshirt and shorts are a great visual signal showing how he’s like his peers while he talks openly about how he’s different from his family. These dorms and these people are HIS safe space too. Notice that Shoto had EVERY reason to be furious at Izuku, especially because his father was with Izuku the whole time. Izuku distracted Endeavor from his promises to Shoto about finding Toya together.

But Shoto doesn’t hold on to any anger and moves straight to caring for his tired friend. This is who Shoto really is now. He sees Izuku alone on the couch and goes to talk to him. If Shoto hadn’t done that, would anyone have felt comfortable just hanging out with Izuku rather than slamming him with OFA questions? (Bakugo is on the other couch between Kirishima and Kaminari.) In return, Izuku confides to Shoto about being a jerk to All Might, and how guilty he feels. After not confessing any of his OFA or All Might-related worries to Shoto before, it’s a nice restart to their relationship. And apparently, the moment was powerful enough to conjure All Might to the Heights Alliance window like Slender Man. Shoto also watches (but doesn’t say anything) as All Might speaks with Izuku, while Bakugo doesn’t appear to get off the couch. I’m curious what Shoto thinks about All Might bowing to Izuku and apologizing compared to Endeavor’s efforts to atone.

All Might. Last chapter, All Might was clearly exhausted mentally and physically. He’s been following Izuku around for weeks — even after being ditched he tracked Izuku to Kamino and UA before going back to Kamino for Stain before returning to UA for Izuku. (And there’s no sign Hercules is a self-driving car.) But now All Might is exceptionally All Might-y and is NOT resting. He seems more energetic and determined than ever. He’s even using his “I am here” catchphrase and speaking a bit more formally (“I must depart!”). There’s no real emotion when he apologizes to Izuku and then the class (good on you, Mina, for making him address 1A!!!) His apology to Izuku is also very lacking in specifics; like he still hasn’t told the kid he made the right decision to spend time with friends and rest.

This chapter makes it sound like All Might is legitimately trying to merge his identities and find a way to be as “All Might” as possible without powers. He says in front of the kids that his body limits how much he can contribute AND he has classic “old man” posture when he bows — it looks like he has a hard time bending forward without rounding his back and bending his knees, and he’s slow to stand back up. (See, I said ass shots would be important.) Remember, he also fell down and dropped the bento chasing after Izuku.

BUT AT THE SAME TIME, this arc has gone out of its way to remind us that All Might isn’t as fragile as fanfic would have you believe. Not to linger on an ass shot, but, uh, the man doesn’t look skeletal. Plus, All Might still has razor sharp instincts, and he athletically leapt from a moving car, rolled across a highway and defeated assassins without any coughing/splorting. All Might has backup too — he’s got Hercules, that mystery suitcase, and the anniversary artwork depicted mecha All Might (plus there’s the old steampunk artwork showing him suited up that someone called out the other day but I can’t find the link).

All Might also references Second’s statement that what Izuku needs is people who can match pace with him. People like Iida, who represents the class and, conveniently, is right there with Izuku and All Might. And Izuku’s “together” echoes Shoto’s.

Now we know the “real” All Might is determined to fight — or at least be an “active player on the board.” He’s not going to sit on the sidelines like he did during the war. And I think he’ll do more than deliver bentos (although I suspect he’d be willing to do that too). Once again, kids have pushed him to do better. The question is HOW he’ll pull this off and how physical his fight will be. “Bad Things” will happen if he gets reckless and jumps into a fight without adequate backup or precautions. But All Might's head could be in a good place judging by how he thinks about following and joining and not bearing the burden alone; about crawling prostrate through mud for the kids (plural) and getting filthy like a hero. He’s thinking about what he has to live for, rather than what he would die for.

That said, All Might is joining Endeavor, which is concerning and means death flags are still around for our “old guard” heroes. Let’s see how the All Might/Izuku and Endy/Shoto “together” pairings work out. We know Hawks is ghosting Tokoyami, so there’s no togetherness there.

Jirou and the Culture Festival Band. I can’t imagine we are heading for a parent/child festival arc. But I love the concept of heroes using their quirks for amusement and fun. A nice rest from the fighting and the high stakes.

Who else is resting? Shigaraki.

Who else is NOT resting? Hawks’s mouth. Holy exposition dump. I can’t stop giggling that Hawks, an extreme Endeavor stan, is so dismissive about Stain’s “deranged love letter” to All Might (which is also a gigantic “fuck you” to Endy). The letter really is a thing of poetic beauty (“Now, more than ever, the masses cry out for that unshakeable sense of justice he embodies…The Symbol of Peace must stand at the vanguard and lead us all to a more just society”):

Jokes aside, I loved ending the chapter on this Endy panel, because if anyone needs to learn that villains can become allies, and maybe even redeemed, it’s Endeavor and his zealot, Hawks:

Finally, note that AFO isn’t resting either. AFO wants OFA before Shigaraki awakens and transcends humanity. Interesting -- we thought AFO needed Shigaraki as his tool to take OFA. I wonder if it’s a control thing? To try and ensure Shigaraki doesn’t take the power for himself and act against AFO’s will??? Is it a sign this master and successor pair won't fight together??

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Here is your weekly deranged Star Squared exploits <3 if you are a random follower of mine reading this, please enjoy <3

(also, as per usual, I fucking love the memes)

Star: I’m not even gonna read the content warnings, I’m going in FULLY BLIND LETS GOOOOO 

Sunny: This is so fucking interesting to me omg. I am so interested to see what you think of this fic BLIND. I am always so tempted to send you my drafts but I need to do this more often this is fun 

Star: First of all the word count AAAAAAHHHH !!!! Also you got the pictures on AO3 !! Yaaayy

Sunny: Yeah lmao the word count is way longer than I expected. When the idea popped into my head, I thought it was gonna be like 1k or 2k and now we’re here lmao. Also if you saw the WEIRDNESS that you have to do to get a picture on AO3 - you have to ‘import’ it from a URL - like I am confident in doing it now and I’m glad it looks good, but when I was first doing it, I was like ‘wtf’. 

Star: “Dick Grayson was quickly becoming your least favorite person” i mean, what's fair is fair

Sunny: tell me how I put this line in just for you <333 also it’s too real 

Star: “Rachel asking you to kill a spider in her room” YOU KILL IT, YOU SAW IT FIRST

Sunny: Again, I am someone who isn’t scared of spiders at all so this is why I put this stuff in fics lmao. 

Star: “I’m horny” “Hello to you too” I love them <3

Sunny: writing banter like this is SO MUCH FUN FOR ME. infinitely more fun than writing fluff where they just say ‘i love you’ all the time lmao 

Star: “if you truly needed his cock” maam if you have to ask yourself that question, I think we all know the answer to it already

Sunny: she’s in denial, and she will be in denial right up until the day she says I love you (and even then, she will still probably be in denial) 

Star: “began taking off your makeup” I know this is not the focus at all, but there's no worst part of my day then when I have to take my makeup off after going out, so I’ll probably be at least 10% more tired and pissed about it

Sunny: I literally keep makeup remover wipes in the drawer beside my bed, because whenever I come home from doing an activity, I get out of my clothes and put on pjs (but shirt little pants ftw) and then I am TOO TIRED to do anything else and I am laying in bed hours later with my makeup on when I remember it so the makeup remover wipes are RIGHT THERE. Work smarter not harder 

Star: “one hand on the dresser and the other on the wall and leaned his body weight on you” 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨 (¿ mirror sex ?)

Sunny: I need to write an actual mirror sex fic soon hmmm 

Star: “My cock will put you right to bed, baby” I’m not gonna say my thought about this, almost verbatim but I mean…

Sunny: PUSSY PUT HIS ASS TO SLEEP NOW HE CALLIN ME NYQULL (I know that’s different, but that is what I was thinking of lmao) 

Star: “Why can’t you just masturbate like a normal person?” “As if” pussy so good it ruined even his left hand for himself “I have the sweetest pussy ever fuck right down the hall?” 😵‍💫 WHAT DID I JUST SAY 

Sunny: what you don’t know is that before this, Jason WAS In his room jerking off but he couldn’t cum without her <3 because he is used to the best and now he can’t go without. So he put his dick back in his pants and walked down the hall 

Star: “if you want to watch me jack off” “this was definitely a new fantasy of yours” GET OUT OF MY HEAD

Sunny: this makes me think back to the Steamy fic, where we did watch Jason jerk off. Also IT’S A THING okay. Because I just imagined his abs flexing and him biting his lip and making all the SOUNDS 

Star: “you ended up putting a face wash and moisturizer on him” that is the most boyfriend thing I can think of, tHE MATCHING HEADBANDS AND EVERYTHING !! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN

Sunny: writing FWB relationships that are coded more like a girlfriend/boyfriend relationship is one of my favourite things ever omg. But I had a perfect picture in my mind palace of Jason standing there with one of those puffy headbands on while y/n puts moisturizer on his face 

Star: Reading this with NO CONTEXT is truly such a fun experience SKSKSKS i keep trying to guess which kinky shit will happen next

Sunny: this is so much fun for me because I know exactly what’s gonna happen and I feel like an evil genius luring you into a trap lmao 

Star: “when he took off his shirt, laid down, and seemed to finally shut up” (¿ somnophilia ?) “You could sleep through it” Another case solved, by the world’s dumbest detective 

Sunny: 1) the phrase ‘another case solve, by the world’s dumbest detective’ actually made me SNORT when I was reading this 2) Jason is too annoying to let you ‘sleep through’ anything, you would already have to be asleep first 3) one of these days I am gonna write a full blown somnophilia fic because a bitch is tired and wants to get fucked too but this is just for funsies lmao 

Star: Little intermission – DUDE YOUR BRAIN !!!!! AAAAAAA !! I HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS, EXTENSIVELY !!!! ITS ON MY TOP 3 BEFORE BED SCENARIOS !!!! – okay intermission is over, everyone back to your seats

Sunny: then you must have sent it to me psychically because this RANDOMLY popped into my head omg 

Star: “The idea of him gently fucking you while you fell into a lazy sleep was entirely too appealing” I am a winner, I have never ever lost actually, couldnt possibly know what defeat feels like “using you for his own selfish pleasure and leaving you sore and full of cum to wake up to in the morning” it is so fucked that you’d say this to me rn 

Sunny: this also brings us to the idea of Rut!Gar (I was rereading the rut fics yesterday, it’s on my mind) ‘using’ you while you’re sleeping because you have been so worn out by the rut that you’re tired and you just sleep right through round 12 

Star: Okay, im sorry but I’m looking at the fucking scroller bar whatever it is called and I dont think were even halfway down yet (uuhhhh hello)

Sunny: omg it’s always so fun to glance at the scrollbar of a fic and realize the circus is nowhere near done yet 

Star: “But he wasn’t just going to pull down your shorts and slam his cock into you. As much fun as that would be” I told you to get out of my head !!!!! 

Sunny: it’s just because Jason was having a patient day. If he was feeling impatient… hmmmm… 

Star: They havent even fucked yet and I know I have to add this to the recurring smut roster  (as it stands right now, its Missing You, Mermaid!Bakugo smut and a secret third thing I forgot about)

Sunny: this actually makes me smile so much omg<3 I have a feeling that the sequel to Missing You is also gonna go on that roster 

Star: “You tried your best to put up a wall of indifference toward this” I was going to say that I dont have the energy for this but I am ABSOLUTELY this fucking stubborn, if not more

Sunny: I love writing Jason x someone just as annoying as him 

Star: “roundness of your stomach” hell yeah dudes

Sunny: fighting back against those ‘he wrapped his entire grip around your waist’ fics by dropping not so subtle hints that the reader character is fat. She’s always fat in my fics <3 

Star: “but you knew that Jason was just as petty as you were” that's why the sex is so good

Sunny: seriously that is why. And there are times when Jason ends up gagged and bound because of it and it is JUST as good 

Star: Aw, he like his bitches psychotic / / Sit on his face and explain why I'm toxic → THIS IS THE DYNAMIC ! I DID IT ! I FOUND IT !

Sunny: YES OMG THAT IS IT. sit on his face just to shut him up type of vibes 

Star: “But he made no effort to move, or fuck you” PETTY BITCH SHIT “I thought you wanted me to just shut up and leave you alone so that you could get some rest?” woooow what an asshole “That. Little. Shit.”  SKSKSS THIS EXACTLY !!!

Sunny: he is the king of r/pettyrevenge and it gets him what he wants. But she will get hers toooo 

Star: “Did you want something?” You parroted back, mocking his words in a childish voice → I do this way too much, its my love language 🥺

Sunny: I know this is like middle school stuff, but I do genuinely believe that you would be Jason’s ideal type, as I would be Gar’s ideal type - like it’s so middle school to be like “my best friend and I both have boyfriends from our favourite series that WOULD date us irl” but it’s true. You and Jason would petty argue until it turns into fucking and Gar and I would autistically talk each other’s ears off 

Star: “Come on. Fucking. Beg” FUCKED UP, THIS IS FUCKED 🚨🚨 🚨 🚨 🚨 

Sunny: this is another one that made me snort laugh omg 

Star: “What else?” I can HEAR the condescending tone from here, dear god “You could have killed him” YEAH : D

Sunny: it’s so PERFECT because like his cockiness is so hot, but if you ever told him that, he would be iNSUFFERABLE 

Star: “I should have just asked nicely in the first place” I will never be the same again, this line will have permanent effects on my life til the day I die

Sunny: thank you my job here is done <33 

Star: “leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on the back of your neck before he mumbled out ‘good girl’” you did it, you’ve successfully killed me, gOOD LUCK IN COURT 

Sunny: the judge sentences me to give you a kiss on the mouth

Star: “You moaned like a whore at this” we’re just gonna assume these rooms are soundproof, otherwise Rachel and Gar are most likely planning our murder, as we speak

Sunny: Gar and Rachel are playing video games so loudly they don’t hear, HOWEVER Dick is in the next room over with a pillow clamped over his head, behind scarred for life (revenge) 

Star: “Now say thank you. Thank me for giving you my cock” JAIL !!! YOU DESERVE JAIL TIME FOR THIS !!! OH MY GOD

Sunny: (see the above comment X2) 

Star: “Come on, baby. Say ‘thank you’. Good girl.” NOOOOOOOOOO MY LIFE HAS BEEN RUINED AND ITS ALL YOUR FAULT

Sunny: again, my job here is done AND DONE WELL 

Star: “Mister ‘Twice In A Sunday’”  KJSJSJSAHAKJ MY FAVORITE LINE OF DIALOGUE IN THE ENTIRE SHOW

Sunny: okay but I literally wanna write a fic called ‘Twice In A Sunday’ just based off that line 

Star: “You can go to sleep now, babe.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll clean you up when I’m done.” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Sunny: okay but he’s a good boy. He would put you in clean pjs and everything and then make you breakfast in the morning as a thank you. He is APPRECIATIVE of good sex, even if he’s annoying beforehand 

Star: Deep breath in… slow breath out (repeat) OKAY ! My life has now been completely ruined, I have been forever changed,  my molecules got all rearranged (Danny Phantom style) and I dont think I’ll ever recover

Sunny: yay! So uh… same time next week? (lmao I love you xoxoxo)

Better Than Sleeping

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You and Jason are friends with benefits. Though you have come to realize that the relationship doesn't always 'benefit' you when he ends up annoying you after a long, tiring day of training.

(He quickly makes you come to see that his annoying persistence can benefit you, even if you would never admit it aloud.)

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 5,300

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic, follow my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.

This fic contains Dubious Consent. One character ‘wears down’ the other and ‘convinces them’ to have sex, and both of them display verbal consent that goes against their true actions and desires (they say no to having sex when they do truly want to) and they think of convincing the other person to agree as a kind of ‘game’. It is a relationship that is playful in nature, and this consent is based on bodily queues, facial expressions, and knowing a person’s safety and comfort based on being in a relationship with them for a period of time. If this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the fic.

List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: friends with benefits, this is primarily a smut fic, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive (once the sex begins), the reader could be considered a brat, Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (it is a canon event), Jason calls the reader ‘baby’, Jason calls the reader ‘good girl’, dubious consent - coercion (please see the above for an explanation about this), mentions of masturbation (watching someone masturbate), mentions of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep, mentions of free use kink, mentions of cumming inside someone/unprotected sex, marking/biting, groping/touching through underwear (reader receiving), orgasm denial (toward the reader), ‘just the tip’, teasing, there is a point where Jason’s dick is inside her without a condom but he doesn’t cum, and he puts on a condom before fully penetrating (what would you call that?), begging, slight mentions of subspace (but it’s more so described as a lustful drunkness), there is implications toward the end of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep with their permission. I believe that is everything.

...

You knew that becoming a Titan was never going to be easy. 

But fuck, this was a lot harder than you imagined it would be. Dick Grayson was quickly becoming your least favorite person. Between the 5am wake up calls and the endless workout routines, paired with the bland ‘nutrient filled’ meal plans he had everyone on to ‘fuel your bodies’ for training - he was becoming a menial drill sergeant that you couldn’t get away from. One of the only things that made it better was the fact that you had friends around - the ability to joke about him with Rachel, Gar, and Jason behind his back. Was it a bit mean-spirited? Yes. Did you feel less guilty about it whenever he added more onto the training routine? Also yes. 

You had no clue when these skills you were working so hard on were ever going to come into play. Every single night, Dick retired himself into the comms room full of computers to ‘monitor the city for threats’ - but he seemingly never found anything worthy of the team’s attention. At least not yet. So you went about the routine of training hard, becoming exhausted, falling into bed to sleep and then doing it all over again. 

Oh - and there was the other thing. The not so occasional part of your routine where Jason fucked your brains out. The fact that the two of you had developed a mutually beneficial relationship to help ‘relieve’ each other when you were horny, a quintessential friends with benefits situation. But with your muscles sore from training and your entire body so exhausted, that was the farthest thing from your mind on this night. 

After a long, hard day of training, the last thing you wanted to hear was a knock on your bedroom door. You hoped that it was simply Gar asking to borrow some of your body wash again (because he liked the smell), or Rachel asking you to kill a spider in her room, and not Dick alerting you to some surprise training drill that he had suddenly thought up. 

You shoved your pajama top over your head, finishing getting changed for the night, and rushed across the room to the door. When you opened it, you barely had time to gauge if you were pleased or displeased at seeing Jason before he spoke. 

“I’m horny.” He announced abruptly, being very abrupt about delivering his feelings. 

But it was in character for him, and didn’t surprise you in the least. 

You hated that your stomach jolted at his words, even if just out of Pavlovian habit. It had been only two days since the last time he had fucked you. He had caught you in the shower in the morning, snuck into the bathroom with a condom between his teeth and opened the shower door to join you while you were distracted meditatively washing your hair. It had been steamy, soapy, slippery, and goddamn wonderful. 

But it had left you sore and stiff before training, and you were wondering how much give and take there was - if you truly needed his cock. 

“Hello to you too.” You said, your tone just as dead tired as you felt. 

You wouldn’t admit that you were a bit horny too. You were tired, and you wanted to go to sleep. So that made you annoyed with his presence. (It should have made you more annoyed than you were.) 

Jason bit his lip, raking his eyes up and down your body with an intense heat lurking there. You glared back at him. 

Jason was intensely attractive. He was a good looking guy, that was just a fact. And while you did enjoy the way he was looking at you, staring you down like you were a porn star when you were slumped with exhaustion, wearing baggy old pjs with mascara smeared on your face with sweat, your hair a mess from the day - there was barely a spark stirred in your stomach at the idea of fucking him right now. You were just too damn tired. Dick had been running you all into the ground, instituting the same training that Batman had given him, and it was fucking exhausting. 

“So - can I come in?” Jason asked. 

He gave you a very expectant curl of his lips and tilted his head toward you when you didn’t say anything for a few seconds. You just stood there and stared at him bitterly. 

You sighed hard through your nose, not wanting to answer the question. 

Fucking him might be nice. A good orgasm before bed. But you needed to put what little energy you had left into your nightly routine and then get a good, long sleep before Dick woke everyone up at ass o’clock again. 

“No.” You finally told him. “I’m going to bed.” 

You turned and walked back into your room, but left the door open. You hoped that he would get the hint to leave on his own. You grabbed your bottle of makeup remover and a cotton pad and began taking off your makeup. 

You weren’t so lucky. 

“I’ll go to bed with you, babe.” He announced proudly. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

He then came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You felt the half hardness of his cock pressing into your ass as you wiped away your makeup with stern hands. You tried your hardest not to let him wear you down, even as you felt a tingle between your thighs. He was used to training this hard, so it wasn’t as exhausting for him. Clearly, he didn’t understand how tired you were - how badly you needed the rest. 

“Go get in your own bed.” You barked, your tone becoming more strained. 

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your face, to make sure that you had gotten all the tiny specs of makeup off, you unintentionally arched your back, pushing your ass much closer to his crotch. Jason let out a quiet moan and you caught him smirking at you in the reflection of the mirror. 

He leaned in close, draping his warm body entirely over your back, trapping you there as he put one hand on the dresser and the other on the wall and leaned his body weight on you. You could have shoved him off you if you wanted to - but as you felt a tingling heat creeping up your back, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to. 

“Come on, babe.” He sighed into your neck. 

His hot breath on such a sensitive place caused a shiver through you that you would deny. 

“Why are you being like this? You know if you want a good sleep, getting fucked nice and hard is the best way to get it.” He told you, so entirely cocky. “My cock will put you right to bed, baby.” 

The words sent a hard jolt of electricity through you, settling a hard heat through you from your gut all the way to your face, burning uncomfortably through your skin. Combined with the way he ground his increasing hardness against your ass, you were forced to suppress a whimper. 

It made you even more annoyed with him - the fact he could play your body like an instrument he had finely tuned. And you reacted with that intense annoyance. 

“Why can’t you just masturbate like a normal person?” You scoffed at him, entirely firm, not giving away an ounce of weakness in your voice. 

“As if.” He held intense disgust in his voice at the very idea. 

He gave another firm dig of his hips, causing you to be pressed into the sharp edge of the dresser - a small twinge of pain that only added to the heat growing in your stomach. 

“Why the fuck would I resort to touching myself when I have the sweetest pussy ever to fuck right down the hall?” Jason explained. “But ya know, if you want to watch me jack off, that can be arranged.” 

Instead of responding to that, you just rolled your eyes. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice that subtle shift of lust in your features that said this was definitely a new fantasy of yours because he had brought it up. 

“You can’t deny that you need it too.” Jason whispered into your ear. 

“I need sleep.” You grunted in return. 

You then shucked out of his hold, using one of the evasive maneuvers that Dick had taught you in training, ducking under Jason’s arm when he wasn’t expecting it. Before he could blink, you were across the hall and in the bathroom. It was mostly because you knew that if you stood there any longer with his warm body pressed against your back, you would have given in far too easily. 

Naturally, Jason followed you. 

He stuck by your side through your entire night time routine, trying to wear you down. You weighed the pros and cons in your head without truly listening to him as the exhaustion seeped into your bones and battled with the lust growing inside of you. 

Jason brushed his teeth standing next to you in front of the sink while you brushed yours, all the while mumbling excuses through his toothpaste about how the sex would be good aerobic exercise to help with your training. By the time you got to doing your skincare, you ended up putting a face wash and moisturizer on him just to mentally drown out whatever he was saying - something about orgasms and endorphins and how it helps mental health. 

As you pulled back the covers to finally settle in, he snuck his way into your bed under the guise of ‘just cuddling’. Though you weren’t anywhere near convinced of that sentiment, you didn’t kick him out of the room or protect. You were surprised, but grateful when he took off his shirt, laid down, and seemed to finally shut up. You weren’t sure which you were more grateful for - the quiet or the stunning eye candy of his tight body on full display. But you didn’t question the fact that he had finally stopped nagging you. 

You crawled into bed beside him and settled into his arms. You gave him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight (knowing that if you kissed him on the mouth, it would turn into something more heated). It was only about two minutes after you shut off your bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, that the talking began again. 

“You could sleep through it.” He noted quietly. 

You sighed with deep annoyance. 

“If you want to. I could be gentle about it.” 

His voice continued on from behind you as he spooned you, one arm under your head underneath the pillow and the other laid almost possessively around your waist. 

Of course, he didn’t even have to be too descriptive for you to know what ‘it’ was. 

The idea of him gently fucking you while you fell into a lazy sleep was entirely too appealing. But he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to win. Especially not after you had put so much of your very little remaining energy into deterring him all night. 

“Go to sleep.” You told him with a huff, shoving your head further into the pillow. 

He simply chuckled. 

You hoped that if you just ignored him, he would shut up and go to sleep. 

You would never admit to him that heat bloomed in your stomach at the idea of Jason crawling into your bed when you were already in a deep sleep, using you for his own selfish pleasure and leaving you sore and full of cum to wake up to in the morning. 

“Hmm… no.” He replied, as easily as a petulant child, his breath fanning out over your neck once again. 

Your heated thoughts easily blossomed into a moan from your lips when he latched onto your neck without warning. He picked a particularly tender spot, sucking hard with teeth and the fullness of his lips, easily knocking the wind out of you. You shoved your heated face tightly into your pillow, praying that he wouldn’t notice your reaction. That he wouldn’t realize he so blatantly had you like putty in his hands. If he knew that, he would know that he could just take whatever he wanted and you wouldn’t protest. Not in the slightest. 

Jason already knew that. But he wasn’t just going to pull down your shorts and slam his cock into you. As much fun as that would be - he wasn’t barbaric. Plus - now that he had one of your sweet little sounds in his ears, he wanted more. He wanted to hear you beg for it after denying him for so long. 

He moved his arm from being so tightly around your waist, and pushed your shirt up. You tried your best to put up a wall of indifference toward this. He began skimming his touch oh so lightly along the roundness of your stomach, right above the band of your shorts. You knew he felt the shiver that ran through you, but you refused to say anything. You weren’t pretending to be asleep at this point, but it was a game to the two of you. You still refused to give in. 

But he was playing to win. 

He shoved his hand into the waistband of your shorts, touching you outside the fabric of your underwear. His skin felt like he could have burned you, even through the fabric. You had to make a conscious effort not to buck forward into the touch. When his fingers skimmed across your hotly beating clit (when had you gotten so turned on?) you swallowed another whimper and steadied your voice. 

“Jason.” You said his name firmly, like a warning bell. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m gonna kick you out.” 

“I don’t think you will.” He whispered into your neck, defiantly cocky once again. 

He sucked another hard, hot mark onto your skin as he cupped your pussy whole in his palm and began grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. 

You let out a wobbling moan and your body thrashed, your energy so depleted that you could no longer hold back your body’s natural reactions to him. You were met with the hard wall of his body behind you, so firm and perfectly hot as he pressed himself tighter into you. 

He gave a satisfied grin into your skin and only doubled down, putting more pressure on your throbbing clit and causing hot waves from that point, adding to the rolling boil that raged under your skin. 

With the beautifully firm pressure and Jason’s talent, the way he knew your body so well, you could have come from this alone. Especially as the pleasure throbbed through your core, your underwear became more soaked through and it was all so beautifully smooth and wet. 

Jason began grinding his cock - still trapped inside a pair of sweats - against the back of your thigh. He groaned into your neck when he felt a pleasurable tingling of his own spreading through his gut, though he craved to be inside of you. As much as he was enjoying this - the sweet, needy sounds falling from your lips, the way your thighs clamped around his wrist, as though desperately trying to keep him in place while your hips humped against his hand like a bitch in heat - he knew that he needed more. 

And he was going to make you beg for it. 

When he felt the signature twitch of your legs that said you were about to cum, he stopped. He held his hand completely still, his strong arm easily pinning your hips down to the bed to prevent you from humping against him and simply taking what you needed. In that moment, he even curled two of his fingers up to shove the fabric of your underwear inside of you slightly, creating a sharp sting that reminded you just how empty you were feeling. 

“Jay-!” You let out his name in a petulant whine, about to scold him for the ruined orgasm, but he cut you off. 

“You gonna ask me nicely now?” He rumbled into your ear. “Admit you were wrong?” 

You wanted to bark out ‘either make me cum, or go to your own damn bed’ - but you knew that Jason was just as petty as you were. At that point, he would have gotten up and left for his own bed just to prove a point. 

“You’re keeping me awake right now.” You huffed out, trying your best to sound annoyed. (Which wasn’t too difficult, considering how badly the ruined orgasm had frustrated you.) “My point still stands.” 

Of course, sleeping was the farthest thing from your mind now. The sexual frustration had injected a new wave of energy through you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to rest until you were truly satisfied. 

Unfortunately, Jason knew that too. 

“Okay.” Jason sighed quietly, giving a click of his tongue. 

He then completely pulled his hand out of your shorts and pulled away from your body. It seemed like he was moving to get out of the bed - you worried you had accidentally triggered that signature pettiness in him. 

But as usual, Jason Todd surprised you. 

You bit your lip to hold back a cheer when he reached for the waistband of your shorts and underwear pulled them down all at once, exposing your hot, soaked cunt to the cool air of the room. (At some point, the blanket had been accidentally shoved off you.) You took a glance over your shoulder and of course, he was shoving his pants down to his knees. You caught a glimpse of his long, thick, hard cock bobbing out of the fabric in the darkness. But you didn’t dare to spend too much time admiring it, for fear of making him too cocky. 

You relaxed against your pillow in satisfaction, waiting for Jason to grab a condom out of the bedside table’s drawer so that he could literally fuck you to sleep. 

You were surprised when he scooted back toward you, pressing himself right up against your back once more. He proceeded to simply press his hips against yours - his cock laid flat against the bare folds of your leaking pussy, immediately becoming slick with your wetness. But be made no moves to grab a condom or even tease you by pushing inside of you raw. 

(Which - yes, the two of you had agreed to always use condoms, but it was secretly a fantasy of yours that he would go against the rule because of his overbearing need to feel you raw - or even the need to cum inside of you). 

But instead of doing any of that, Jason seemed to be settling in to relax. 

Jason draped himself across your back, wrapped his arm around your waist again, and gently laid his head on your shoulder. But he made no effort to move, or fuck you. Your pussy throbbed with need, feeling the hot, hard length pressed against you, entirely unmoving. When you clenched around nothing, you let out a wave of slick that you knew he could feel right on his cock. You felt a groan catch inside his chest, but still, he didn’t move. 

“Jason.” You breathed out, having to question him after a few more moments of silence and stillness. “What are you doing?” 

“Going to sleep.” He answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you wanted me to just shut up and leave you alone so that you could get some rest?” 

That. Little. Shit. 

You resisted the urge to elbow him in the face. 

Obviously, being so close to you, he felt your entire body tense up with anger and annoyance. He was only able to partially hold back his satisfactory laughter. When the quiet snickers met your ears, you became even more annoyed. 

“Jason.” You scolded him gruffly. 

“Oh? I’m sorry,” He said, entirely sarcastic. “Did you want something?” 

“Did you want something?” You parroted back, mocking his words in a childish voice. 

Essentially, you had no more clever comebacks left. He had won. 

“I guess I can give you something for your troubles, babe.” Jason sighed, as though it were a grand inconvenience to him. “Maybe just the tip, though.” 

“Just the tip.” You sighed, finding yourself repeating his words once again. Though this time your voice was dead and sarcastic rather than mocking - mostly because you didn’t believe him. 

You knew that in Jason land, ‘just the tip’ meant slamming his entire cock into you after the tip lingered in your entrance for a moment. You clenched down on nothing again at the thought. 

Once again, you were expecting him to grab a condom so he could fuck you freely without worry. You were surprised when he peeled his body away from you slightly and reached down to grab his cock. After a moment of rubbing the fat cockhead along your folds to get it nice and wet, he did as promised and pushed the tip inside. 

It was the first time he had ever been inside of you without the barrier of a condom, and feeling his hot, raw skin touching yours - even just a little bit, made you gasp. 

“Jason!” 

Your voice was whiny even to your own ears, so needy for him after so much teasing. Upon instinct, feeling that painfully empty ache coming from deep inside you, you arched your back and attempted to shove your hips toward him - attempted to pull more of his thickness inside of you. But Jason was quicker, and he had his hands on both your hips, shoving you down onto the bed so hard and fast that the tip of his cock fell out of you with a wet pop. 

It was a sound that made heat beat through your cheeks, and the feeling of his wet cockhead brushing against the backs of your thighs took your breath away. 

“Oops.” He chuckled, and moved to slot himself back into position.

You had no clue why it was so dizzyingly hot. 

But this time he held you down firmly so you couldn’t simply fuck yourself back onto his cock. You moaned as the thickness of the cockhead popped back inside of you - you yearned for more, but he stayed still. 

After a moment, he began to move his hips so slightly, feeding no more than an inch of his cock into your throbbing cunt before pulling it back out. It was an entirely careful movement on his part where he fed you the first inch, and didn’t let the tip pop out again, in pathetically shallow thrusts that could barely be called sex. Your pussy ached, tingled, yearned for more. 

You mentally cursed Batman for teaching him such good self discipline and him using it for this.

“Jason.” You whined, trying fruitlessly to fight against the firm grip he had on your hips in order to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“What, babe?” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss a line across your shoulder. 

“You know what.” You replied, your tone even more frustrated and whiny. 

You wiggled your hips desperately, trying to get more of him inside of you. You yearned to feel the perfect ache of his thick cock splitting you open, hitting all of those perfect spots so deep inside of you. 

“No, I don’t.” He told you, his voice somehow steady and confident. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” 

You couldn’t see it or feel it, but his hips were trembling and his abs were tight with the pure resistance of his self control. All of the energy he was using not to slam his cock into the tight, warm velvet of your cunt, especially as he felt it leak so freely around the tip of his cock, knowing how badly you needed him. He wanted nothing more than to watch you whine and babble and fall apart on his cock - but he wanted to win just a little bit more. 

There was a distinct pause. The last shreds of your own stubbornness hanging in the air, even as your cunt throbbed with need. 

Even if Jason couldn’t see your face from this angle, he could feel the warring in your body. He knew you too well. And he knew how to break you down so perfectly. 

“If you want anything more than this,” He told you, emphasizing the point with another pathetically shallow thrust. “If you want anything more than just the tip of my cock,” His voice was low and silken and creating even more heat that almost drowned you. “Then you’re gonna have to beg for it.” 

“Fuck you, Jay.” You whined out in protest, once again trying to fight his grip on your hips to fuck yourself against him. 

He viciously dug his fingers into the fat of your hips, causing a sharp sound from your throat at the beautiful pain. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, and growled out his next words in a low tone that dragged through your insides in the exact spot where his cock should have been. 

“Come on.” He urged you on. “Fucking. Beg.” 

That was when you broke. 

At least you hadn’t given in too easily. 

“Please,” You whined out breathlessly. “Please, fuck me! Fuck me, Jason! I need it.” 

“What else?” Jason asked expectantly. 

You could have killed him. But when your desperate cunt unconsciously clenched down on the fat head of his cock and you felt yourself growing only more hot and needy, you knew that there was only one thing to do. 

“I’m sorry, Jay, I should have - I should have just asked nicely in the first place. I do need it. I need your big cock inside of me so badly.” You poured it on thick, emphasizing the last words in the most pornographic voice you could muster, hoping that he was running low on self control as well. 

And he was. So he was very satisfied with this. He grinned into your skin, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on the back of your neck before he mumbled out ‘good girl’ - something that made you moan out sharply. 

You let out a sharp noise of disappointment when his cock popped out of you again. 

“I need a condom.” He told you, giving you a reassuring pat on the ass. “As much as I’d love to cum inside you, we do have an agreement.” 

You weren’t sure which was hotter - his sex-thick voice admitting that he shared one of your deepest fantasies, or the fact that he was caring so deeply for you, making sure that he protected you with a condom even when you were in that floating headspace and willing to let him do just about anything do your body. 

Your mind was swimming contemplating it, and next thing you knew it, he had the condom on successfully. He then slammed his cock inside of you in one firm, smooth movement. Any thoughts were easily pounded out of your head by the practiced movement of his hips.

“Better now?” Jason grunted into your ear. 

You could practically feel his smugness radiating through his cock, spearing into you. 

But you were now alight with intense pleasure, warm satisfaction rolling through you - so you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care about how smug he was. Every bit of cockiness he had, he did back it up with a pretty big dick that he knew how to use well. Not that you would ever say those words aloud to him. Not even on your deathbed. 

“Just shut up and fuck me.” You ordered, though it was breathless and had no bite. 

“As you wish, babe.” He replied, and then doubled down - his hips fucking into you with an intense fury. 

You moaned like a whore at this, finally feeling that dizzying fullness that you had been craving since he had snuck his touch into your shorts. Jason drank up your sounds and easily wanted more - more of your perfect pussy squeezing around his cock, more of that wetness coating his inner thighs, more of that filthy wet smacking as he fucked into you. 

He leaned down, draping his body fully over yours once again, creating a pleasantly smothering weight on top of you as you laid on your stomach on the bed with your face nearly drowned in the pillow. He slowed the pace of his hips to a dangerous torture of a grind, fucking you so deeply now that you were sure you could feel him coming up inside of your throat. You let out a wounded noise, and he hushed you gently. 

“Shh, babe, I’ve got you.” He whispered into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 

He moved one of his hands from your hip and shoved it between your body and the bed, and once again he was cupping your mound fully in his hand - but this time there was no fabric barrier, and he was settled deep inside of you. It was filling your whole body with lava, turning every place he touched you to boiling ash. You were sure that you would have dissolved into nothingness if not for the anchor of your cunt hanging onto his cock, keeping you grounded in reality with that slight nip of pain as your muscles clenched onto him. 

“Now say thank you.” He told you, his voice so gruff in your ear, so thick with desire that it made you dizzy. “Thank me for giving you my cock.” 

He used two precise fingers to rub circles on your neglected clit, immediately sending shockwaves through your body that made your muscles jump and jolt. 

You gulped for air and struggled to move your face out of the fabric of the pillow, and Jason saw this. He moved his other hand and slid it under your cheek, gripping under your jaw to fully lift you up. 

He stilled his hips completely once again, causing a pained sound to emanate from your lungs as you clamped down on his cock deep inside of you while he continued to relentlessly work over your tender clit. He gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath. But you were so cock dumb that you had to be reminded of the goal. 

“Come on, baby.” He encouraged you, pressing his lips to your cheek that he wasn’t holding onto. “Say ‘thank you’.” 

“Thank you.” You easily repeated back, now completely pliant to his desires. “Thank you for-for your cock.” 

“Good girl.” Jason praised you once again. 

Then he began fucking into you once more - it only took a few careful thrusts of his hips and the talent of his fingers on your clit to finally bring your orgasm to life. He shoved his tongue into your mouth as you screamed through it, imitating some sloppy version of a kiss while you flailed and creamed on his cock, your body becoming truly boneless and tired as the orgasm rocked you. 

When it was finished, he was still throbbing hard inside of you, and you let out a whine of disappointment. You were absolutely dead tired now, and you couldn’t even think of how much energy it would take to finish him off. Mister ‘Twice In A Sunday’ could last quite a long time, and that didn’t exactly work for you in that moment. 

“You can go to sleep now, babe.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll clean you up when I’m done.” 

He began thrusting into you once more, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed. 

It ended up being a good night for both of you.

...

A/N: This is another fic of mine that was originally supposed to be like 1k or 2k and it ended up this long lmao. So I hope you enjoy it! I have been reading a lot of fics that use 'just the tip' as a trope or a prompt, and it reminds me so much of Jason (especially the Titans version of Jason) - where he would be whiny and begging for sex, and be like 'come on, just the tip' and originally that part of the fic was going to be a bit different, but I do like the way this turned out. So definitely let me know what you think of this, and keep in mind that right now (as of July 24th, if you don't have timestamps on) my Titans smut requests are still open. (And if it's in my pinned post that they're still open, then they are). So definitely send me a request for any of the Titans characters if there is something you'd like to see! I love being inspired by requests.

[ashdoesfandomarchieved]

a sound like goodbye

ao3

It begins rather innocently.

Beckett and her three best friends are one of the teams chosen for the initial away mission-which apparently, according to the briefing that she skipped and Boimler had relayed to her later with no small amount of annoyance, entailed scooping out a deserted starship for survivors while the Cerritos solved the mystery behind the situation.

Turns out, there wasn’t much mystery behind it besides some cloning project gone wrong.

“I mean, it makes sense,” Tendi mutters, frowning at her tricorder. “There’s a reason cloning isn’t exactly sanctioned by Starfleet.”

“So, what, the clones turned on everyone and-”

“Started eating them?” Rutherford wrinkles his nose at the weird puddle of suspicious goo his shoe is stuck in. “Seems pretty standard for a Cerritos mission.”

Boimler snorts from where he’s peering over Tendi’s shoulder at her tricorder. “Clones eating people? Isn’t that just... people eating people?”

“Oh it gets worse,” Tendi says cheerfully. “Whatever’s in the air here-”

“Ion cloud-”

“Ion cloud,” Tendi corrects, rolling her eyes, “whatever’s going on here, it seems to be destabilizing the clones' molecular makeup.”

“Which made them go crazy?” Rutherford suggests.

“No, which made them start eating people to absorb the electrons that would otherwise make them...people.”

Beckett and Boimler exchanged a grossed out expression.

“Usually I would think that’s cool-” she begins.

“Wait, how do we know we’re not the clones!” Rutherford interrupts, panicked. “I mean, how would you even know , you would have the same memories, the same-”

“You wouldn’t have your implant,” Beckett cuts in, before he can work himself into too much of a panic. “Or, at least, you would have that exact one that’s programmed to your specific brainwaves.”

“The rest of us could be clones though,” Tendi adds.

Boimler twitches.

Beckett frowns. “Can’t you just run a scan on us and-”

Tendi points her tricorder at Beckett. It makes a little blipping noise. “Yep. One hundred percent Beckett Mariner.”

“Unless you’re also a clone and that’s what your clone brain wants you to think-”

Boimler slaps a hand over his eyes. “That’s not how clones work, Rutherford!”

Tendi turns her tricorder to him, raising an eyebrow when it makes another blipping noise, this time twice in a row.

“Oh, and you’re the clone expert?”

“He did get cloned like three months ago,” Tendi says, distractedly frowning at her tricorder. “Huh.”

Boimler gives her a sharp look .

“Well, good thing the clone isn’t here, or we’d be in trouble,” Beckett mutters, already turning toward the terminal showcasing their location. They’re not too far from the engineering decks of the starship, which is fortunate since that’s where they need to go. It seems to be the starting point of today’s misadventure.

“Actually, no,” Tendi says, ignoring Boimler’s glaring. “While Boimler’s clone would likely destabilize due to the air pressure, he’d be less likely to be inclined toward-”

“Cannibalism?” Rutherford grimances.

Tendi shrugs. “Clone’s been around for three months. He’s had time to adjust.”

“Unlike the fuckheads here,” Beckett sighs, as she steps in a puddle of... god knows what . “I don’t like this mission anymore, I want to go home.”

On cue, something rams against the steel-locked turbolift doors. Loudly.

All four of them exchange uneasy glances.

“Engineering deck, right?” Rutherford offers.

Beckett sighs.

____

Engineering’s a bust.

Whatever chemical compound was making the clones has long since been eradicated, leaving the four with an ominous empathy engineering deck. What’s worse, they get a call about five minutes later from the other away team, who are being picked off, one by one, by the remaining living clones.

“How did anyone think this is a good idea?” Tendi groans.

Rutherford and Boimler exchange grimances.

“I think our best bet is to head back to the shuttlebay,” Boimler offers hesitantly.

Beckett’s not sure how she planned on responding to that, because just as the words are out of his mouth, the red alert system goes off.

“I thought no one was left on the ship?” Tendi shouts, over the noise.

“Unless one of our crewmembers turned it on, in which case-”

“We need to get out of here,” Beckett finishes Boimler’s sentence.

A sound splits through the air. Metal clashing against metal. Like the center of the ship is falling apart.

“You don’t think…” Tendi’s eyes widen.

“Yeeaah, who wants to be the clones are taking a kamikaze approach to their limited lifespan?” Rutherford says.

“They’re attacking the Cerritos ,” Beckett groans, because of fucking course they are. She starts herding her friends toward the turbolift. “We need to get out of here before the Cerritos is forced to fire on us.”

____

They get split up, because of course they do. The place is still, apparently, crawling with dying, mutated clones and there hadn’t been a way to keep their group together without someone falling behind.

Beckett supposes she can count herself lucky that they get paired off in usual formation--Tendi and Rutherford and then Brad and herself. It’s usually a successful team up whenever that happens. Tendi and Rutherford are both geniuses so they’ll most likely find a nonviolent way to get through the ship.

Meanwhile she and Boimler can take their usual approach of Beckett doing dangerous shit while he freaks out in the background.

“Is this really necessary?” he shrieks from somewhere behind her, as she sets off another explosion. “Where did you even get -”

“No time for stupid questions,” she replies airily, grabbing him by the upperarm and dragging him down a couple of halls.

“What’s going on with you anyway?” she asks, when they have a moment to catch their breath. She tries to inject enough casualness into her voice that he can’t detect her worry. “You’ve been-” she gestures vaguely with one hand. “Spacey.”

He shrugs, avoiding her gaze. “I mean...clones, you know?”

“Mutant clones,” she counters. “Which is barely any weirder than anything else we’ve dealt with.”

He sighs. “It’s nothing, Mariner. I just don’t like being trapped on a deathship full of things that want to kill us.”

“That’s literally what happens to us every day .”

Something crashing into a nearby door makes them both jump.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Boimler grits out, eyes darting wildly around them. “Can we just get out of here?”

____

They do eventually collide with Tendi and Rutherford, both of which have already implemented 80% of a plan to get them safely back to the Cerritos , all limbs intact, and with a counterplan to take out the rest of the mutant clones.

Tendi grabs Boimler by the arm and drags him a few feet away to rapidly explain her technobabble infused idea that Beckett can barely track, while Rutherford and her work on barricading the medbay door.

“This is gonna work, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, I mean, we should be able to make our way to our shuttle after Tendi uploads the code to the network.” Rutherford’s voice is nervous.

The door suddenly splits in two, a clawed grey hand peeking through the destroyed metal.

“ Shit ! Okay, new plan,” Tendi shrieks, “let’s just get the fuck out of here.”

“But what about-”

“No time, we’ll come up with a new plan!”

The trek through the hallways has Beckett somewhere between elated and terrified. The clones are mutating at a frequency that is, frankly, scary and they nearly get Rutherford at least twice. The guy just can’t seem to catch a break between one of the clone’s nabbing him in the shoulder and another one getting a good few swipes in on his face.

It’s just his luck that he suddenly gets grabbed by one of them and yanked into one of the deserted conference rooms, much to everyone else’s horror.

“ Fu -” Tendi’s shout is bitten off as another clone makes a wild dash for her that she narrowly avoids.

Beckett turns to shout something to Boimler and-

He’s not there.

She comes to a stop so quickly that Tendi slams into her back, almost toppling her over.

“Wha-”

“Where’s Boimler?” She attempts to sound calm, but can hear the thread of panic in her voice.

Tendi spins around. “Oh- oh fuck .” A look of realization dawns across her face as her eyes widen. “He didn’t,” she breathes.

Beckett pushes her down the hall. “Get Rutherford, I’ll-”

“Mariner, he might not-”

“He’s fine , at least until I get my hands on him,” she snaps. “I’ll meet you in the shuttlebay.”

____

She does not, in fact, meet Tendi in the shuttlebay.

No, about five minutes after she splits up with the perky orion, she comes across her--the Orion having beaten her to finding Boimler, who she’s loudly arguing with. Rutherford, surprisingly, is there too, covered in scrapes and bruises and watching worriedly.

Beckett can’t for the life of her figure out how they managed to fight off a pack of deranged mutated clones, double back to find Boimler and start a fight with him in the time that Beckett had come across them, but she supposes it makes sense. Rutherford and Tendi are just built that way.

“You can’t just-” Tendi is sputtering, fists clenched.

“There isn’t time and besides-”

“Mariner is going to kill you -”

“Damn straight I am!” Beckett cuts in, voice raised over the noise of the starship literally being destroyed. “We’re on a timecrunch here, guys, what the fuck are you three doing ?”

Boimler sighs. “Marin-”

“We think we may have found a way to neutralize the clones,” Tendi blurts out. “I synthesized a noxious gas that’ll run through the airvents and take them out before they destroy the Cerritos -”

“Good! Great! So go ahead and release it so we can-”

The lights turn off.

“Someone has to upload the program that will release it shipwide to the network-” Boimler begins.

Beckett glares at him in the dim light. “If you’re suggesting what I think you are-” She grabs her best friend by the shoulder, attempting to drag him away from the console. With surprising strength, he brushes her off.

“Mariner I-” His face twists into something pained--a usual expression on him, but certainly unwanted at the present moment. “The Cerritos is already on red alert and we have less than ten minutes to-”

Beckett growls, making to grab at him again.

“Right, we have less than five minutes to get to the escape shuttle-”

“Yeaaah, that's kinda the problem?” Tendi cuts in, wilting back at Beckett’s furious glare. “We can’t do it from the shuttle. Someone has to stay behind and manually do it.”

Beckett stops.

“Oh fuck no,” she snarls, glaring at each of her friends. “No one is staying behind-- no , not even you, “she adds, pointing to Boimler, who’d opened his mouth to protest.

“Look-”

“No.”

“Just hear me out! The Cerritos doesn’t stand a chance against--”

“We’ll find a different way--a way that doesn’t include any of my best friends serving themselves up to be eaten by mutants!”

“This is the only way!” Boimler throws his hands up in frustration. “We don’t have time to come up with a new idea and I can upload Tendi’s code to the-!”

“Wha-no, why does it have to be you that stays behin-”

“Because the real Boimler is on the Titan !” he bursts out.

Beckett freezes.

She hears Rutherford exhale and can feel Tendi go still. All eyes snap to Boimler in an instant, who wilts under the combined force of their surprise.

“It took me a while to realize it,” Boimler-- Brad admits, “but when Tendi ran that test and I-”

“Boimler,” Tendi whispers. “You don’t have to-I should’ve told you-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rutherford interrupts, shifting nervously. His eyes cut to the ceiling as another squeal of the haul cracking splits through the air. “-clone or no clone, you’re still our friend and we-”

“And someone needs to stay behind and take out the clones or-”

“Which is why I’m going to do it,” Beckett snaps.

“Wha-how is that any different -”

“Mariner, you can’t just-”

“Why do you two have to make killing yourselves a competition?” Rutherford slaps a hand over his eyes and winces when his implant glitches. “How about we all leave and-”

Brad groans. “Someone has to detonate the-”

“We’re not just leaving you-” Beckett all but shrieks.

“You don’t have a choice-”

“Like hell I don’t, if you think I’m just gonna leave you here-”

“There’s another me out there!” Brad shouts, above the noise of the starship being blown apart. His eyes narrow in on Beckett’s, completely ignoring the protests and annoyed mutterings of their two friends.

“Look,” he says, voice quieting so only she can hear him. “I’m a Boimler, but not. Not yours.”

Beckett’s breath catches in her chest. She lets her gaze flick over him--from his meticulously pressed uniform, to the dirt smudges on the side of his face, to the dumb anime hair that surprisingly works for him. His eyes--a light hazel that tricks you into thinking they’re green in the sunlight or brown in the darkness--stare back into hers helplessly.

“You need someone to stay behind and detonate the gas,” he says, after a moment of quiet--save for the countdown being droned out by the AI. “So just please-”

“And you’re a better candidate for staying behind because-because there’s another you? That’s bullshit, Bradward,” she snarls, grabbing his collar and hauling him close.

“There’s two of me and only one of you!” he shouts back, throwing his hands up in the air, but losing the effect the gesture would usually have by slumping in her grip. “And as it stands I’m not even the real-”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!” She lets go of him, throwing her own hands up in the air in a mirror image of him. “Of course you’re the real you! Just because you weren’t here first doesn’t make you not a person-”

“I’m not your me, though,” he cuts in, “And it doesn’t matter anyway, because other me would be doing this whether or not he was the clone so-” He turns back to the terminal, brow furrowed. “Just-just get in the stupid shuttle and-”

“Not without you!”

“Then you’ll die here!”

“ So ?”

Brad types in a series of commands and then shuts the screen down. He turns on his heel and grabs Beckett’s wrist. “Fine,” he grits out, “let’s go.”

____

Surprised at the sudden change in whatever-the-fuck that was, Beckett allows herself to be tugged through the shattering starship--Tendi and Rutherford on their heels. Tendi exchanges a couple of glances with Brad, something passing between them that Beckett-much to her annoyance-can’t read.

The dash to the shuttle bay is hectic, but Beckett barely notices. Her attention keeps being stolen by the furtive glances Brad gives her when he thinks she isn’t looking. Or the warmth of his hand around her wrist that releases whenever she has to do some badass shit to get them out of there, but always comes back when they’re in the clear.

Finally, they’re in the shuttle bay.

“Uh, I’ll get it up and running,” Rutherford says, ducking inside the beaten up shuttle that they’d come in on.

Tendi and Brad look at each other for a moment.

Then, she tosses him her datapadd.

“I also synthesized a memory saver for the clones, because I’m a genius. It might not work,” she says, carefully, ignoring Beckett’s confused sputtering.“None of them deserve to die, so I did my best to give us an option where they don’t... completely . There’s a possibility that your consciousness will upload to the network, but it’s not guaranteed.”

Brad smiles at her, shaky but grateful.

Tendi goes on. “So if it doesn’t, I just want you to know-”

“Yeah,” his grin is more of a grimace now. “I know.”

She nods once, eyes quickly darting over him, before turning and disappearing into the shuttle.

Just Beckett and Brad left.

“Brad-”

“Mari- Beckett -”

“If you think for one second -”

“Someone has to stay!”

“But why you?” she says, crossing her arms and trying to ignore the tears pricking in the corners of her eyes. “All you’ve ever wanted to do is-is explore deep space and nerd out over dumb shit. Not die in the middle of a fucking warzone.”

Brad grabs one of her wrists, pulling her out of her defensive position and sliding his hand into hers. Both of his hands into hers.

His palms are warm and surprisingly soft. She wonders for a second if he moisturizes and then immediately knows the answer is yes because she’s seen the amount of lotion he carries in that dumb manpurse of his on shoreleave.

“I didn’t stabilize right,” he says, voice pitched soft. “That’s why when Tendi ran the tests she-well. I wouldn’t have lasted anyway so-” he sighs, shoulders drooping. “Just let me do this one thing for you guys. Let me make it all count.”

Beckett doesn’t realize she’s full on-crying until a sob heaves out of her. “I can’t leave you.” She shakes her head, trying to get control of herself. Something in her chest is twisting tightly, cutting off her airway. “I can’t.”

Something in Brad's face shifts. He lets go of her hands, much to her dismay, and she’s reaching out, reaching to grab some part of him to keep him from running off, from doing something stupid, something permanent , something that will take this version of him away from her forever-

One hand suddenly cups her neck, thumb tilting her chin upward.

Everything in her world comes to a standstill.

The sound of the base coming down around them, Rutherford and Tendi tersely barking orders to each other and across their comms to the Cerritos , the red alert blaring above them. Even the sparks shooting off around them from broken wiring and the lights wildly flicking on and off seem to slow.

Brad barely leans in before she grabs him by the collar with both hands and drags him down.

It’s desperate. Almost uncomfortably so. For the first few seconds their teeth click against each other and Beckett’s nose is smooshed against his cheek, but then she pulls back a centimeter, breathes in the space between them and dives back in, tilting her head to get the angle right this time.

It’s awful. His lips drag against hers and one hand moves to the small of her back and suddenly he’s pressed up against her, warm and real . One of her own hands makes its way into his stupidly coiffed hair, devastatingly delighted at the fact that he doesn’t upset at her messing it for once.

It’s all consuming and it’s burning and it’s searing and it’s awful , not because it isn’t good. No, it’s awful because Beckett knows what it means.

She knows it’s goodbye.

When she finally lets him pull away, they’re both panting. He rests his forehead on hers for a moment, eyes half lidded.

“You have to tell him,” he finally rasps. “Because he won’t-he’ll never, if you don’t first.”

Beckett squeezes her eyes shut tightly and then quickly opens them again, not wanting to miss a moment of their stolen time. “Brad-”

He shakes his head, pulling away from her. “Tell him.”

“It’s not too late,” she says. “You can still come with us.”

Brad gives her a lopsided grin. “What, one of me isn’t enough for you?”

The AI blaring the countdown hits the last minute. Brad’s face sets. Resigned.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, as he gently--but swiftly--begins herding her toward the shuttle, “I- he -is sorry. About everything. So, when you see him next, just give him a chance, okay?”

She’s inside the shuttle, one hand braced on the side of the door, trying to keep him from shutting it. He puts a hand on her shoulder to keep her from jumping out.

“Brad-” her voice is shaking.

“I know.” He looks over her shoulder, probably at Rutherford or Tendi. Nods to them once. “Just make sure he knows too.”

He pushes her.

She stumbles onto the shuttle floor as the door slams shut with a hiss.

____

Carol gets the report before she hears it from her kid.

The situation hadn’t been ideal from the start. When they’d originally intercepted the distress call, Ransom had muttered something about requesting backup that Carol had strongly considered. Ultimately, they would’ve been unprepared either way.

Either way, two thirds of the teams she sent onto that ship would have died, including her daughter’s best friend.

“Where is she?” she snaps at the ensign that seems to hang around Beckett and her friend group. He’s in medbay, nursing a broken collar bone, but snaps to attention the minute she enters.

“Uh…”

“Storage closet on Deck C,” an Orion, a few beds down, offers tentatively. Carol thinks she recognizes the girl as one of Beckett’s friends, but can’t be sure.

“Tendi!” the other ensign hisses.

“What, it’s her mom !” the Orion--Ensign Tendi--shoots back, but Carol isn’t listening. She’s already halfway out the door, despite the fact that a storage closet on Deck C didn’t narrow her search down by much.

It takes her almost an hour to find her.

The storage closet she’s camping out in is small--mostly likely used for medical supplies, judging by the sharp smell of antestic and alcohol that’s coming from-

Beckett has one hand tightly gripped around a bottle of vodka. She blinks up at her for a moment, comm lying open in her hand.

“Hey kid,” Carol says, trying to go gentle, but it comes across as tentative.

Beckett scowls. “What do you want?” she mumbles, fingers gripping her comm tightly. There are tear tracks staining her cheeks that make Carol’s heart ache.

Carol glances around the storage closet, grimacing at the empty bottles laying scattered around Beckett and the strong smell emitting from them. “Just to talk. Think you come out of here for a minute?”

Beckett raises her comm to her mouth again, muttering something indistinct into it before snapping it closed. She makes to stand up, but can’t quite make it. She seems off-balanced, teetering off the edge of sobriety.

Carol gently grabs Beckett’s wrist and pulls her to her feet. She sways slightly, still very obviously under the influence. With a sigh, Carol tugs her forward.

“Oh kiddo,” she says, when Beckett buries her face in her shoulder and begins crying in earnest.

____

Brad collapsed on his bed, equal parts weary and riding an adrenaline high.

The mission--now completed and never to be brought up again except in his n̸̜͘ḯ̷̹g̸̥̎h̵͛��ẗ̷̬m̴̦͗a̸͈͂r̶̡͝e̶̢͘s̸̤̒ --was barely notable compared to the previous twelve he’s been dragged on, but he still is riding the high of almost dying . It’s, tragically, becoming his new normal.

And not in a fun Mariner did something cool that almost got us all killed but it’s totally cool because she looked hot while doing it kind of way. It was more of a holy shit I just almost died I didn’t join Starfleet for this what the hell am I doing existential crisis sort of way that has him regretting a lot of things.

Mostly Mariner related things, if he’s being honest.

(He doesn’t regret leaving. He doesn’t)

(He absolutely does.)

So here he is, a few months older, but certainly not wiser, lying in his lonely room, wondering what Mariner’s getting up to these days.

Almost on cue, his padd pings him a voicemail.

3 missed calls from Beckett Mariner.

Brad frowns. It’s been a while--a very very long while--since he’s heard from Mariner. Not that he’s blaming her, because he knows, he knows that he pulled a dick move transferring without telling her and then ghosting her calls.

He just doesn’t know what to say to her.

“Hey dumbass,” the voicemail opens with. It’s what most of them have, but this one has Brad pausing. There’s something monotone--something deadened about the inflection of her voice. It has his breath catching in his chest.

This voicemail is going to be different.

“Just calling to check in, I guess,'' her voice continues.

There’s a pause. So long that Brad wonders if Mariner had forgotten she’d called him. Then, “I don’t know if Tendi or Rutherford have called you yet, but I...look, can you just-”

Static, like she’s pressing her comm against her shoulder. There’s some indistinct murmuring, a deeper voice filtering through that he hesitantly assigns as Captain Freeman’s.

“I gotta go, but.” A shaky breath. “Call me.”

Brad swallows.

“Please.”

The voicemail ends with a click, leaving Brad in the silence of his empty room.

____

It’s been three weeks.

Three weeks since every emotion Beckett was capable of feeling had been shattered into a thousand pieces and dropped into a flaming dumpster fire. Her mom, after dragging her to her ready room and spending the entire day plying her with hot chocolate and hugs--which was weird coming from the woman who once told Beckett to walk a compound fracture off--seemingly decides to give her some space.

Which apparently includes giving her an undetermined amount of leave to deal with her shit.

Beckett doesn’t know what to do with that. What’s she supposed to do, take a vacation right now? Have fun ?

She spends the entire time either holed up in her bunk or exploring whatever dumb planets their missions take them too.

It all comes to a head far too soon.

And by head, Beckett, of course, means that her mom decides to interfere--like she always does--and drag Beckett kicking and screaming into a situation that she 100% would have avoided otherwise.

“Captain wants you in her ready room,” Tendi says, voice tentative in a way that is pissing Beckett off.

She doesn’t need to be tiptoed around goddammit.

The walk to her mom’s ready room is brisk and uninterrupted. Everyone’s giving her a wide berth these days. She’s not sure if it’s because they know or if she just looks unusually scary these days.

Her eyes are red rimmed and her uniform is beyond wrinkled and her hair is unwashed, falling around her shoulders in messy tangles. It’s probably not the latter.

She storms into her mom’s ready room, prepared to pick a fight just to feel something when-

Beckett stops breathing.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Carol says, giving Brad a pat on the shoulder as she passes him.

He’s in the stupid Titan uniform, which look unfairly good on him, Beckett distantly--begrudgingly--thinks. His hair is still in that stupid anime upsweep and his back is ramrod straight as always.

His eyes though are pinched in worry. Lips pulled into a frown.

“Hey.”

Beckett can barely look at him, but taking her eyes off him means she can’t see him and that’s an unacceptable option. She takes a step forward. And then another one. And then another one, until she has to look up every so slightly--because he has that goddam half inch on her--to maintain eye contact.

When she presses a hand to his chest, slightly to the left, just over his heart, he feels warm .

His pulse drums under her fingers, beat picking up rapidly the longer she keeps them there.

“Hey,” she says back. Her voice is cracked to all hell, rubbed raw from equal parts disuse and shouting whenever she’s in a particular mood.

The worried look on his face increases tenfold at the sound of her voice.

One hand reaches up to encircle her wrist. It squeezes tightly for a second before he lets go and takes a step back, putting space between them.

He’ll never, if you don’t first , Brad’s own voice sounds in her mind.

Beckett takes a breath and steps forward, closing the distance once again. She smiles faintly at how his eyes widen, pupils dilating slightly at their close proximity.

“Can we talk?”

____

[kittenwithaquirk]

right, so the new bnha OVA. i was crying, laughing hysterically, and screeching with the volume of a deranged psycopath.

these children are innocent and deserve nothing less then the world.

and now that that’s out of the way, time to start the inhuman screeching over my favorite scenes. spoilers ahead, you’ve been warned.

first of all- denki kaminari is my all time favorite character and i would literally die for him. seeing said small child grab bakugo’s arm when scared is the one thing i’ve always wanted in life, but never knew until i saw it.

peekaboo kami’s alive

kiri protecc

secondly, kaminari- panicking, in water? doesn’t sound like a good idea

a l s o, bakugo staying behind to save todoroki? character development? nani?

and then was the start of my inability to form a single coherent string of words. i chose instead to scream and make undecipherable keyboard smashes. 

why does simply seeing this makes my heart rate accelerate to unhealthy proportions. 

oops, my heart went 

someone stop me before i give my heart to these fictional characters

wait a second, holdup

👏 Todoroki  👏 is  👏 holding  👏 Izuku  👏. i’ll be right back, i have to go scream into my pillow until my voicebox inevitably departs from me and my current state of giddy hysteria

i swear to god when kaminari fell, the horror filled demonic yelling that escaped my soul was loud enough to cause a several dozen books be thrown at my paper thin skull.  

👏 tsu  👏 best  👏 girl  👏

poor traumatized child. someone hug him. he could have died.

petition to stop traumatizing these innocent children

can i make it clear that panicked todoroki hurts my soul

fuck it. take my heart. add it to the collection of never ending love for these two.

i stopped breathing oh so quickly. had i been drinking tea, it’d have been spewed halfway across the world. but i was not. nor would i have had the mental capacity to consciously do anything other than stare at my screen in utter horror. 

also can i just say- the only way bakugo could’ve gotten out of that situation is if izuku heifted that whole freaking slab of debris while todoroki dragged him out from under it? right? am- am i wrong?

breaking news: green haired broccoli child freaks out after childhood friend is crushed by debris. next up, number one school for heroics being sued for making it’s students fear their lives on a daily basis

am i the only one that saw that coming? also, i fear for the condition of izuku’s face. bakugo seems to me to be a very hard headed person and he hit izuku’s nose hard.

i worry about bakugo’s pain tolerance levels. the fact that he’s willing to w a l k despite his leg’s condition is just the slightest bit horrifying.

his ‘feet just won’t do what he’s telling them to do’. don’t you think, considering this, bakugo, that you should try not to walk and aggravate your injury more so then you already have? 

my neighbor requested the reason behind the sudden loud shattering of window panes that could be heard from across the street. my vocal chords are fucked.

watch as i spend every remaining hour of my life rewatching this scene for the sake of my mental stability

that moment when the two problem children begin to fight over bakugo’s arm-

if it’s not one thing, it’s another. bakugo clearly has an inferiority complex, but there seems two people that are able to be able to talk him into ignoring it for the sake of his health. we all know who those two are, and i sure as hell aint gonna question it. 

ah yes. be his cane. canes don’t talk. you had better be aware of that fact before attending your local cane convention.

bakugo’s facial expressions are so hilarious i constantly find myself laughing manically whenever he is on the screen. am i the only one that does this?

why were aizawa and recovery girl just watching and not h e l p i n g the bleeding child in front of them?! riddle me that, U.A.

this two part episode summed up in one photo?

[batarella]

I Don’t Hate You - Part 3 (Jason Todd x Reader)

OKAY LEMME TELL YOU ALL I’VE NEVER POSTED ANYTHING THIS LONG. AND I’VE NEVER SMILED SO MUCH WHILE WRITING A SINGLE FIC IN MY LIFE. IT’S 2K WORDS LONGER THAN THE COMMANDER FINALE. TALK ABOUT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.

REMEMBER WHY JADE WEST WAS SO ICONIC IN VICTORIOUS? READ ON!

WORDS: A WHOPPING 7404 WORDS FOR A SINGLE PART OF A SERIES WARNINGS: NEVER HAD THIS MUCH FLUFF IN MY LIFE

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

Hands flat on Ms. Peterson’s desk, you flashed the brightest fake smile you could. She looked up from her computer, probably the fifth round of solitaire for the day, and cocked up an eyebrow. She did not at all look amused at you storming in.

But you’ve been in the library for twenty minutes and this woman has not given you anything to do to keep you in here.

“Listen, Ms. Peterson. As much as we just love hanging out in this outdated hellhole, I’d rather we go home than just sit here and do nothing for the next hour and a half.”

Her shaky hands didn’t flinch. And she turned her attention back at her screen.

“I’m told to keep you in here for another eight weeks. I’ve had this job for fifty years and I’m not about to lose it to two whiny brats.”

“She’s the only whiny brat here, Ms. P.” Jason rested his elbows on the desk and leaned over beside you. “If you let us out, it’ll be our little secret. C’mon.”

Obviously, that sort of trick works for Jason more times than it would for any ordinary person. But Ms. Peterson was not the one to charm with. And she had the same, dead look in her eye when she turned her head at the young man.

“Sit. Down.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t care. Just get your asses on those chairs and sit. Oh look! A person in need of service. There’s your job. Go do it.”

Only one guy was standing behind you. You snarled at him, eyes narrowed. You were almost growling beneath your breath which made him visibly stand back. Jason looked at him over his shoulder with less fear factor but with the same annoyance.

The sight of you both made him almost piss his pants.

“Uhm,” he gulped. “Can you please show me where sci fi books are at?”

You cocked up an eyebrow, glancing at your nails before nudging Jason with your shoulder. He grunted at you, giving you that same ‘I really fucking hate you’ look on his face he’s practically embedded onto his own skin by now. You shrugged, looking back at your nails. Then Jason stood straight and held the guy by the shoulder.

“Go through that aisle. Third shelf from the right.”

“He asked you to go with him, Todd.”

His glare on you was really starting to show. “He can find it himself.”

The poor guy gulped and viciously nodded to agree with Jason. He walked away, making sure not to catch your eye. You lifted your elbows from the librarian’s desk and spared the old lady another snarky look, to which she didn’t even bother to notice. Both of you sitting back on the empty table, Jason placed his arm crossed over the other on the surface and leaned his head over to at least try having a nap. His hair was all sprawled out. You, on the other hand, leaned back, head hanging on your neck, and closing your eyes hoping time would fly by faster that way.

It didn’t.

Two weeks. It had been two fucking weeks. And yet, you were far from being halfway through this macabre series of events. Why couldn’t you have just punched that Maxwell kid in the face? Or threatened to murder him in his sleep? Anything else would have been better. Anything that would’ve landed you in an entirely different situation than to be stuck here with an old woman stricter than a Belle Reeves prison guard.

You could either look at the windows out the library, find a book and actually read one of them (though if they had any more of Poe’s you’d likely get your hands on them).

Or just stare at the eye candy in front of you.

Your smirk was less obvious when you glanced over the veins on his large, muscled arms, folded on top of the other with his skin stretched. His thick, black hair that was long enough to cover most of his forehead, now sticking onto his arm. His neck that was long and thick, his thin shirt and how even more lean muscles would pop out when he’d unintentionally flex. You often caught sight of his stomach when he’d reach over a shelf that was at the top most level, and the ‘V’ shape on his skin was more than eminent enough for you to picture. He wasn’t absolutely huge, especially since he was just 17. But he was definitely fit.

You wouldn’t mind looking at that for a while. Not until he starts talking, anyway. For long minutes, that was what you did, then you got bored.

The tip of your boots kicked his shin under the table. He jumped up, startled, almost growling at you with dark bags under his eyes.

“The fuck do you want now?”

“Someone’s a bit angsty today,” your evil little smirk ticked off another of his nerves. You could tell. He let out a large sigh, started leaning back against the back of his chair, then spread out his arms behind his head to stretch.

Ooooooh shit. There is was. The veins.

“I didn’t sleep last night.” Jason finished stretching and went back to lean against the table. “You done gawking?”

“Cute.” You scrunched up your face to mock him. “I’m bored.”

“And what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Help me sneak out of here.”

“Two weeks here. You think I haven’t tried sneaking out once or twice? That woman’s got the eye of a fucking hawk.”

“Is there any other way out of here?”

“I doubt it.”

Your groan was indefinitely long, stretching the back of your neck when you opted to reach for your phone.

“I’m at three percent.”

Jason took out his own phone. “Mine’s at five.”

“That blackout from last night reach your monster mansion, too?”

He snarled at you and rolled his eyes. “Bruce has generators to power up the whole place when we need it.”

“Then why are you at five percent?”

“Because I’ve been tinkering on this sorry little fucker the last thirty minutes.” He held it up with just his fingers. It had a cracked screen. It looked too old to even be used. “Battery drains faster than my patience.”

“Can’t your new rich dad buy you another one?”

“He did. I don’t wanna use it. Just doesn’t feel like mine.”

“Ah. You're one of those guys. ‘My parents are rich, not me’ kind of dudes. You’re all the same kinds of annoying.”

“I don’t act all high and mighty, for your information.”

“I’m just saying,” you raised your arms up. “If I were you’d I’d at least enjoy his wealth. It’s stupid if you don’t take advantage of things you clearly already have.””

He silently shook his head and looked to the side like you wouldn’t understand even if you tried. Scoffing, you turned away, and you caught the eye of Maxwell, who had a sling on his arm still.

“Holy fuck,” you reached for your bag. “I can't believe I fucking forgot.”

“What?”

Pouring out the contents, you mumbled. “Help me with this thing and I swear I owe you a huge favor.”

“I think watching you wallow in your pain would be more worth my time.”

“That sounds more like my line. You’re taking after me. Good. And I’d say likewise if I wasn’t so desperate, Todd.” You started pouring out pieces of paper, a bottle of glue, and a pair of the largest scissors Jason’s ever seen.

“Is that-“

“The scissors that sent that guy to therapy?” You pointed at Maxwell. “Yes. Yes they are.”

“Jesus.” He took it from your hands. “No fucking wonder.”

“Stop ogling and help me.”

“What the fuck are you supposed to do?”

“Remember the project that kid spilled his coffee on? This is it. I finished it that day and now I have to do it all over again. They gave me another two weeks to do it and I completely forgot about it until now. I’m supposed to make a stained-glass kind of picture. But with cutting pieces of colored paper.”

Jason took the paper you had on the table.

“These are all white, black, gray, and one sheet that’s dark red.”

You shrugged. “I like working with those colors. Now help me. I wanna do this.” You pulled out your phone and showed him a saved photo of one you’d like to copy. He almost jumped out of his seat when you suddenly showed him a picture of a deranged clown with a big red nose, a smile much larger than half his face, and eyes dark and dwelling enough to give him nightmares.

“I wanna know what type of dark shit you’re on.”

“It’s just a clown.”

“I am not helping you on your little art project.”

“Please.” Your hands were down, your eyes widened but not the threatening kind. And your voice, it was definitely the softest he’s ever heard it. Twitching an eyebrow like he was watching your every move, Jason didn’t flinch.

He looked at the clock. Then back at you with his eyeballs rolled all the way around.

“You’re lucky I literally have nothing better to do.”

You propped your shoulders up and gave him a black piece of paper and a pair of scissors. “Great. Cut these into the shapes I drew here.”

A disgruntled groan and a sharp snatch from your hands, Jason looked just as cranky as you usually were. It was amusing. He glared at you and you just smiled back. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Shut up and get to work.”

Your eyes lingered a bit longer on him, even when he’d started to fiddle with your too-large scissors, and you rolled your eyes with a bit of a smile.

“What’s making you so grumpy today?”

He didn’t bother looking up at you. His brows were all scrunched up as he cut the black piece of paper.

“I told you. I didn’t get to sleep last night. I was… out. Why are you grumpy all the time?”

You squinted your eyes at him then went to work. Carefully, he went through the first paper and gave you the shapes you wanted. You set aside your own batch and you took out the larger, white paper on which you’d glue it all on.

“Okay. Give me the shapes.”

You took out the glue and started pouring it on the paper.

“You’re doing it all wrong.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“You clearly don’t.” He snatched it from you and started wiping the glue off with his finger, spreading it around. “I can't believe I’m fucking doing this.”

“And what are you doing exactly?” you snarled.

“Pouring the glue in will make it all sticky. You should’ve traced over the outer lines so it wouldn’t crumple.”

��I know that.” You took the glue away from him again, then placed the shape onto the paper. “One down.”

“Fucking kill me now.”

“Keep cutting. I’ll handle the glue.”

“Do it right, then.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. He started again with your scissors and went back to snipping off the pieces of paper. Gluing the shapes one by one, you started taking out a red marker and traced the outlines to mimic the flow of blood.

Jason stared at it, then at you, eyes wide with disbelief, then went back to his scissors.

“Excuse me,” a girl went up to you. A freshman, you could tell. “That lady told me you could show me to the young adult section?”

“No. Go away.”

You kept with your glue, not even looking at the girl who just stared at you awkwardly. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep, long sigh. “Go down that aisle. Fifth shelf. Down the very end.”

“Uh. Thanks.” She walked over to where Jason was pointing at. You still didn’t look up from your work. And instead, watched on as Jason continued with cutting the shapes. “You need to chill.”

“Finish those up. That’s the last one.”

Jason rolled his eyes even more, angrily cutting through the pieces of red paper the size of the clown’s big red nose. He dropped the scissors onto the table and just continued to watch you gluing the pieces together with way too much glue.

He gave you no warning before grabbing the glue bottle from you and the shapes, stretching his arm out so you can't reach them.

“TODD.”

“YOU’RE RUINING THE WHOLE THING.”

“NO, I’M NOT.” You cursed with his name and stood up from your chair, reaching out with your arms all the way to him while he desperately wiped off the excess glue for your sake. “GIVE THAT BACK.”

“SIT DOWN.” He cried back at you.

You heard the shrillest shush Ms. Peterson has ever made, before you went back to fumbling with Jason. Your table was at the far end, and she was no longer at your line of sight. He held your wrist, wiping off the rest of the glue, then finally handed the bottle back to you. Putting the shapes onto the paper, you groaned when you slumped back on the chair.

“It looks horrible,” he tried to stifle a laugh.

“Fuck you.”

“At least you’re almost done, right?”

“You put the glue on the shapes then, genius. I’ll paste them on.”

Grumbling with his deep voice, he took the glue bottle and swiped the shapes back over to him. Using thin, barely visible lines, he was so stingy with the glue you wanted to tear your hair out.

“That won't even stick to a fly trap.”

“You want your work to look all crumpled? Go ahead.”

“Just put a bit more.”

“I have the fucking glue bottle,” his eyebrows were raised. “You sit there and wait for me, then you stick them yourself. Start with this.”

He slammed a shape onto the table and you took it, careful not to hit your fingers with the glue. Biting into your gums, you wondered how you’ll be able to handle yet another eight weeks with his kid.

Your bickering didn’t even stop there. It went on, and Jason had to cut even more shapes to make up for some that were far too small. He was practically yelling at this point, and you weren’t about to get yelled at and not respond.

“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO CUT THEM, DINGUS.”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THE RIGHT FUCKING SIZE.”

“I GAVE YOU THE PATTERN. YOU ONLY HAD TO FOLLOW IT.”

“WELL I WOULD HAVE IF YOUR SCISSORS WEREN’T SO DAMN BIG.”

“THEY’RE THE BEST PAIR IN EXISTENCE. YOU JUST CAN'T HANDLE IT.”

“I THINK I CAN HANDLE A PAIR OF SCISSORS.”

“THEN WHY CAN'T YOU CUT BETTER THAN A FUCKING SEVEN-YEAR-OLD.”

“’CUZ THEY DON’T HAVE A FUCKING PARROT SCREAMING AT THEM EVERY FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES.”

The silent yelling didn’t stop. At the end, your voices were too loud that Ms. Peterson would’ve eventually shushed you for the last time and probably throw her slipper at you. Thankfully, she’d gone out to the bathroom and you were left alone.

Everyone else had left. It was almost 5 pm, and you refused to go if your project still wasn’t finished.

“This. Is. The worst day. Of my entire life. And I used to live in the streets.”

“You're not going anywhere. Stay.”

A deep, agonizingly painful groan. He slumped onto the table and buried his face into his arms. “Why can't you just kill me?”

Another set of long minutes, with your attention directly at the glue and scraping off the excess to make it look presentable. It didn’t actually look that bad. The second set of cut shapes were just the right size. Jason didn’t bother looking up. He might have even fallen asleep with you being silent for the longest time since you got there.

No one was left in the library, and it was just starting to get dark.

“Aaaaand THERE.” You placed the finished project onto the table and clapped your hands together in a grinning happiness. Jason, on the other hand, looked as good as dead.

“You may go.”

“You owe me fucking big time, kid.”

You smirked at him when he violently pushed his chair back, grabbed his backpack and went out for the door. You took your time, especially since going home late didn’t seem like such a drag anymore when Dad moved back in. You carefully slipped your collage into your folder and slung your bag over your shoulder.

Jason was still standing in front of the door, hand frozen on the handle you pushed him away and turned it, only for your hand to come at an abrupt stop and the sound of gears halting its turn.

“Where the fuck is Mother Goose?”

“The bathroom-“

But she wasn’t at the bathroom. Unless Ms. Peterson took her large purse and computer along with her to the toilet, she probably wasn’t in there.

“Are we-“

“There has to be a key here.” Jason rummaged through the librarian’s desk. Every drawer he could forcefully pull out, he did.

You pulled out your phone, which was a dead 0%, the image of a drained-out battery staring back at you, and that’s when you started to feel the panic slowly rise. You rushed to the library’s telephone, but you couldn’t even hear a dial tone. The phone was off. Jason’s phone was probably just as dead.

You rushed to the lights to turn them on, but nothing happened.

Fuck. Another blackout. FUCK.

“No key,” he rested his hands on the table. “Shit. FUCK.”

You only stared at each other, feeling that panic start to settle in when you realized you were out of options.

“M-Maybe. Your dad will come pick us up?”

Jason shook his head. “The last time I ran away for the night, he said he wasn’t gonna go around Gotham to pick me up anymore.” He looked at you. “Your parents?”

“Said the exact same thing.”

Your back hit the wall, and you slid down with your head up in the ceiling. Both silent. None of you even said it out loud.

Jason looked like he wanted to scream.

-----

You laid on your back, flat against the table, with just your arm over your eyes to shield it from the light posts outside the window on the driveway. You tried to drown out Jason’s fiddling with his lock pick and the door handle. Two hours had passed, and you’d barely gone by the evening.

“That’s not gonna work.”

“You have a better option, Lydia Deetz?”

You clenched your jaw and sneered. “You’ve been at it for an hour.”

“I’m almost through this.” He kept with his pick, a hairpin he found on the ground which he spent another hour looking for. “Juuuust- THERE!”

You shot up from the table, feet landing enthusiastically onto the floor and you sprinted to Jason’s back. “Here’s to freedom.”

Too eagerly, he turned the handle and pulled the door with a victorious grin.

Only for his hand to jolt at another abrupt stop. The door wouldn’t budge, only peering open through an inch. The grin on his face was immediately lost, and he almost feel out of his feet when you violently pushed him away, pulling on the door yourself and failing.

You could see the deadbolt, but something outside was holding the double doors from opening, no matter which one you pulled on.

“That batshit crazy old witch,” you growled. “Fucking chain locked the door.”

A loud, frustrated groan from Jason as he threw the hairpin to the ground like he would’ve a knife. “WHO CHAIN LOCKS A LIBRARY?”’

You walked away from the door, going back to the tables so you could bend over and stuff your face into your hands. Jason was even more of a mess.

Your dad started his first big fight with mom since he moved back in last night, just when you thought they’d finalized the divorce, he squirms back in. And your room was never far enough to drown out their screams.

That night you wished you were somewhere else. And you ended up somewhere even worse.

Jason was sitting on the floor, back flat against the wall, and his eyes were shut close while you laid back down on top of the table.

“I’m hungry.”

“The fuck you want me to do about that?” Jason kept his eyes shut.

“You got any food?”

“No.”

“Don’t you have something in your bag?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“You think you can stab me with those scissors? ‘Cuz I feel like choking on my own blood right now.”

You rolled over so you were laying on your stomach. Craning your head up to look at Jason, your chin resting on your fingers, you grinned. “I’d rather not spend the night being stuck with your rotting flesh. I’ll kill you in the morning.”

Jason screamed into his hands. “We are not gonna be stuck here until fucking morning.”

“Either you die tonight still in denial or we actually try to survive. Now do you have anything in your bag or what?”

He didn’t give in to picking out his bag without leaving you a dark glare. The sky was completely dark by now. And the only light source you had were three lamp posts outside the window. The power was still off, which meant it was going to be this dark the whole fucking night.

“Would you look at that?” He took out a small protein bar from his smaller pocket. “Forgot that was there.”

You jumped off the table again. “Great. I’m starving.”

You walked too fast to Jason, who immediately stood up and hold you by the shoulder, raising his hand away from your reach. “Ey. Mine. From my bag, remember?”

“I don’t have anything in mine!” you reached and tried to push him, but had no luck against his strength. “Come on!”

“I have way more body mass than you. I need this.”

You pursed your lips, glowering at him even when you knew he still wouldn’t budge. He kept pushing your shoulder from him until you backed away reluctantly.

“WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO EAT?”

You whined and grunted with your back hitting the wall. Jason stepped away facing you and opened the protein bar, took a large bite that left it with almost a third of the whole thing left.

“You know. That thing with the scissors stuck into your neck doesn’t seem like a bad idea anymore.” You grumbled.

Chewing profusely at the bar, he folded his one arm over his chest and smirked while watching you silently grovel in annoyance. You leaned on your side and made sure he wouldn’t hear your stomach starting to growl.

“Fine,” he groaned. “Here.”

A little over a quarter of the protein bar left. Jason handed it over to you and you gritted your teeth.

“There’s barely anything left, you bile-headed twat.”

“You want me to finish it?”

Snatching the bar away from him, you cursed under your breath right before you gobbled up what was left of the snack. It did little to nothing to make you feel less hungry, but at least you weren’t going to die.

“You're welcome.”

You threw the wrapper onto the floor and went back to sitting on the table. “Got anymore bright ideas?”

“Maybe if you’d help, I’d actually be able to tolerate you.”

Jason walked over to the classics shelf, pulled out a book and did the same as you. He swung his legs over on top of the table across you, bringing his knees up so he could rest his elbows on them. He then opened his book.

“You're reading,” you bit your gums. “You’re actually reading at a time like this.”

“What else are we supposed to do in a fucking library?”

Your hands met the surface of the table behind you and you threw your head back. “We have at least until the power comes back on. GOD, this place in insufferable.”

“Never mind the helping. You shutting up would be enough not to drive me insane.”

“And you're less of an ass when you're not a grouch, dickhead.”

“I’m ignoring you now.”

The vein on your forehead started to throb. You weren’t tired yet, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep at this hour even if you tried. You rolled around the table, desperate for any position that wouldn’t drive your limbs numb.

You jolted when you heard Jason curse.

“This fucking lamp post’s too dim. Can't even see shit.”

He set the book aside, laid down on his back and watched the ceiling with you.

“How did we even get locked up?”

“Maybe if you didn’t keep me captive with that stupid clown project for three hours we wouldn’t be in the mess.”

“So it’s my fault now? You're the one who fell asleep!”

“How could you have possibly missed the time? You know the library closes at five!”

“I didn’t fucking know that! I leave before that old witch does every time!”

“Just-.” Jason shut his eyes. “Can we stop screaming for ONE SECOND? Especially since we’re gonna stuck here the whole night?!”

The mocking noise you made was almost inhuman. Jason didn’t bother snarling back.

You saw a car pass by, the headlights shining through the window for the shortest moment. You kneeled on the table and waved your arms around.

“HEY. GET US OUT OF HERE!”

The car kept moving, and the headlights passed through the whole of the window until it left. You slumped back to lay down and groaned. “Fuck everything.”

You grabbed your bag, rummaging through everything inside just to find anything to do or anything that could possibly help you. Nothing. Not even a fan to cool you off when you started to feel the temperature rise.

“Did you call the number I gave you?”

You licked your teeth. “I used the piece of paper you gave me as a bookmark.”

Jason lifted his arm off his head. “No shame in asking for help.”

“I told you, I’m not being fucking abused.” You started picking on the leather of your boots, tracing along the creases of where your toes folded. “I don’t know what the hell made you think I was.”

“It doesn’t have to be actual physical abuse,” he sat up on his elbows.

“You really wanna make us feel uncomfortable? Why do you come to school with bruises all the time?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m not gonna fucking tell you, Y/LN.”

“Fine. Then let’s not talk about this.”

You had that usual condescending tone, but you didn’t sound like you were on the verge of lashing out. You sounded like you were pleading, even. Jason bit his lower lip. “Okay. What do you wanna talk about? It’s too early to sleep.”

You brought your knees up to sit cross legged and you leaned in on your elbows.

“Wanna play a game?”

Jason drummed his fingers on the table and sighed. “What?”

You scooched closer to him and swung your legs over the edge of the table. He did the same and faced you. “Give me your hand.”

“What?”

“Just give me your hand, Todd. Don’t be a pussy.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Then give me your hand.”

Jason snorted, leaning his elbow over his lap and giving his other hand over to you. You took it, smiling at him, then gripping firmly onto his wrist. “Make a fist.”

He fisted his hand and you could see a few veins pop out on his arm. You started rubbing the outside of his fingers. His eyes scrunched up, watching you. “Open your hand.”

He opened it, then you lightly slapped it with your own palm. “Fist,” you said again. He breathed and pulled it again to a fist. You repeated your first action with a growing smirk. “If I come out of this with one hand left-“

“Shut up. Open again.”

He opened his palm. And with a single finger, you tapped onto the center of his hand, then released your grip on his wrist.

Jason widened his eyes, amused. “It tingles.”

“I know right.” You folded your arms.

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“That’s a secret.”

He then reached out his other hand to you. “Do it again.”

You laughed and snorted before grabbing his wrist, rubbed his fingers the same way you did the first time. Jason leaned over closer to look at your movements, and his nose was all scrunched up like it would when he was focused on a book. The corner of your mouth lifted, then you tapped his hand with your finger and let go.

“What sorcery is this?”

You shrugged, leaning back and folding your arms. “You have any tricks of your own?”

“Yes I do,” he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “Hold out your hand.”

You did so without hesitation. Jason held your fist, then looked straight at you. “Pick a finger and don’t tell me what it is.”

“Okay?” Your ring finger. Easy enough.

“Look straight into my eyes. Don’t look down.”

You rolled your eyes slightly to the side, licking the inside of your teeth, then did as told.

He was looking straight at you, not even trying to blink. A smirk formed on his lips, and his eyes had that same flick of a glare, but there was a little shine on them from the dim lamp post. You shook your head while still maintaining eye contact and felt his other hand start toying with your fingers.

“It’s your ring finger.”

“Huh,” you shuffled closer to him. “Do it again. I wanna watch your hands.”

“No. You have to look straight at my eyes.”

“Fine. Just do it again. I’ll pay more attention.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, and you both tried your best to hold back emerging bursts of laughter while he continued to toy with your fingers and trying not to blink.

“You're not choosing a finger.” He said.

“Not true. You just suck.”

It was true. You forgot to choose a finger. The middle finger this time. You shifted your focus, but the way he’d try to hold back a laugh made you choke. “Stop laughing.”

“I’m not.” He so was. You felt him touch your fingers, moving around them one by one. “You’re trying to look for movements.”

“Nope. It’s the middle finger.” He kept at it. Over and over, with you refusing to admit he read your mind.

His hands started feeling warmer each time. You didn’t know you noticed.

-----

A bustling, screeching noise of a cart being hauled around the room for the past ten minutes. You’ve been here for five hours. You were tired, starving, and sweating. You covered most of your face and ears with your hands, but the cart’s noises just kept going.

You shot up from the table. “DUDE. STOP.”

You normally had more insults to scream at him, but at that point of the night, you were all out.

Jason kept going and ignored you. Starting from one end of the library, he pushed the handles of the empty cart, accelerating it with his feet. When he gained the momentum, he placed his feet on the metal and rode it across the room. “Real mature.”

“Don’t be an old hag.”

He accelerated again from the opposite end, then climbed on. Jason went faster this time and just narrowly missed a shelf.

“There’s another cart right there if you have the balls to join me.”

You placed your weight on your arm, watching Jason sprint from one end of the room to the next. With a loud grunt, knowing you wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, you jumped off the table.

You emptied the cart from the remaining books and pushed it to Jason’s side, who waited for you just by the shelves. “Jump when it speeds up.”

“I know what to do.”

He laughed. “Race you to the other side.”

You gripped on the handle firmly, watching the end of the room, the one lined with heavy bookshelves, and readied yourself. “GO.”

You sprinted the two carts and grabbed on with your life as you sped down the large enough room, feeling the air slightly cooler when it was rushing past your skin and hair. You laughed playfully, stopping just before you hit the shelf. “I win.”

“Are you kidding me? I was waiting for you.”

“One more lap.”

“You’re on.”

Again, you sped past the room. You held onto one side of the handle too hard and accidentally hit Jason’s cart, both of you almost tumbling to the ground. “I call foul!”

“It was an accident!” you laughed, then took the cart again to finish the lap. He caught up with you and you no longer stopped in between, continuously sprinting and jumping onto the metal all across the room. You rode past the shelves, the narrow aisles, narrowly missing the books. You almost hit the tables with the carts and you definitely hit the wall too hard when you stopped too late. Jason was trailing right beside you, then he went about his own route.

That’s when he purposefully hit the front your cart with your own, throwing you off on the ground. “FUCK”

He laughed too hard. “Come on. I have another game.”

Holding his hand out to you, you grabbed on and he pulled you up to your feet. You stood close to him, both of you still laughing. And you were staring too long at his face being close to yours. You pulled away from his lingering grip, looking at the ground.

Setting his own cart aside, he pulled on yours, settling it between the aisle of the shelves. It went straight through the longest path down the room, and you’d have to be lucky to miss the shelves. “Hop on.”

“Todd, if you throw me out the window-“

“Come on. Don’t be a pussy.”

You felt the rush, and you liked how free you felt rushing through the air. You climbed into the cart, grabbing hold of the edges and focused on the end of the room.

Jason leaned in to your ear. “Don’t scream.”

“JASON.”

He was incredibly strong, pushing you in the cart like you weighed nothing and sped through the room faster than he previously had. The cart was growling and was so ready to break apart, but you never felt that kind of thrill since you last rode a coaster. You definitely screamed, a high-pitched shriek you know Jason must never mention to anyone, ever. But you were also laughing your stomach out when Jason turned you around, sped to the other end again. And this time, his feet jumping onto the cart.

You threw your head back, laughing, then you caught a glimpse of his face flashing the brightest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

Your laughter came to an abrupt stop when he stopped the cart too late and crashed against the shelf. You both stood still, watching it toppling like an unsteady jenga tower.

Holding your breath, you heard books fall to the floor, then the shaking mellowed down and you released your breaths when it finally stopped. Turning to Jason and falling into the cart laughing, you clutched at your stomach. “JESUS CHRIST.”

“Not funny!” he cried out, but even he was stifling a laugh. He walked over to the front and placed the books into the cart with you. Some fell on your lap, and you took the books from him and placed them to your side.

“At least we have something to do now.”

“Yeah. Especially since you put these books in the wrong shelf. These belong over there.” He pointed to a shelf nearby.

“Let’s fix it then,” you said, still not moving from the cart. He placed all the books from the floor onto you and moved the cart to the corner.

“You’re heavy.”

“Shut up. From now on, we shelf books this way.” You took a book from your lap and gave it to him, who placed the book in its right place.

“Top shelf,” you smirked.

“I know where to put them.” He took it from your hand and shoved it in place. You didn’t have many books to begin with, but even after that, he continued to push the cart, with you still hitching a ride, and you walked around the library to just look at all the books.

“Everything’s in the right section.”

“Because of me. You made a shit ton of mistakes.”

You threw your head back, looking at him. And from that angle you could see his glare turn into a smile. You leaned against the back of the cart, your head lightly touching his arm.

When you’ve managed to tour the whole library, you sat up.

“You're turn. Get in here.”

Jason wanted to laugh at that. “You’d never be able to lift me.”

“Watch me try.”

You hopped off the cart, pushing him aside from the handle. He shook his head, but eventually climbed on like you had. He was bigger than you, so he looked a lot more uncomfortable with his knees folded way up and his arms barely fitting inside the cart.

He was really heavy. But you managed. Pushing the cart slowly at first, Jason leaned in to the left side to steer you off. “Jason!”

“I see stray books. Go over there.”

You pushed the cart with whatever might you had. When you reached the desk, Jason took the books you previously set aside and placed them on his lap. “Braille,” he said. “These go all the way to the back.”

“I can handle this. I’m a big girl.”

You pushed the cart, eventually gaining speed, but it wasn��t nearly as fast as when he’d pushed you around. You reached the far back, with two sharp turns that nearly killed your back, then stopped with a loud breath.

“You're right. We should do this more often.”

You were panting by that time, and Jason handed you the books to place on the shelf. “Chop chop.”

-----

Two fucking am. The power was still out. Jason was definitely going to call the electricity company when you both get out of here. You were sat cross legged on one side of the long, narrow table, fiddling with your sleeves since you couldn’t sleep. He was laying on the same table but facing the opposite way, closing his eyes and feeling the beginnings of light slumber. His back was going to kill him eventually, but when the rush from that cart fiasco died down, he was so awfully tired.

Jason laid his head on his arm, closing his eyes as tightly as he could.

Then a warm, soothing melody started to buzz through his ears, a tune he’s never quite heard of before. His eyelids suddenly grew softer, feeling the humming song vibrate through him.

Where was it coming from?

He slowly opened his eyes, trying to find the source. Jason craned his head up to you, with your back turned to him, and realized you were the one humming.

You turned to him, and he went back to closing his eyes, pretending to sleep. “Jason?” you lightly asked, not enough to wake him if he was actually asleep. You turned your back around and crouched over to relax.

He wasn’t sleeping anymore, but he kept closing his eyes. A little while later, with you thinking he wasn’t conscious, he heard you actually start to sing.

 You got a fast car

I want a ticket to anywhere

Maybe we make a deal

Maybe together we can get somewhere

Anyplace is better

Starting from zero got nothing to lose

Maybe we'll make something

Me, myself I got nothing to prove

 Then you paused. Your voice was so soft and light, he never would’ve have heard it if there was anyone else in the room or if he wasn’t awake. You never would’ve sung if you knew he was, though.

You had the most beautiful voice he’s ever heard in his life.

 You got a fast car

I got a plan to get us out of here

I been working at the convenience store

Managed to save just a little bit of money

Won't have to drive too far

Just 'cross the border and into the city

You and I can both get jobs

And finally see what it means to be living

 Your voice was low, a beautiful, vibrating low. An alto. And there was that deep, breathy growl when you reached the lower notes with ease. A light vibrato at the end of the vowels, and there was that drowsy, slow feel to it that just made it seem like you didn’t make that much effort at all. At some points, you whispered the words, like your everyday screaming never affected your vocal chords at all.

There was a tug at his chest, his face started to burn up. He was wide awake by now, and there was that thudding within him that was too hard to ignore. And it worsened each time you breathed out the end of the verses.

You managed to finish the song, and by then, he was a mess.

You didn’t sing anything more, no matter how much he wished you would. He ended up fighting his tiredness, just in case he’d miss another song.

But right before he drifted to sleep, he realized he’d been smiling his cheeks off.

-----

Twelve hours.

You were stuck in the library.

For twelve fucking hours.

Both of you shot up from the table the moment you heard the chains outside the door clink to the ground. You and Jason raced out the door, and before the security guard could totally open it, you violently pushed it aside and raced out into the wide-open space of the driveway outside the gates. The poor guard looked puzzlingly at you. But since he was too old to care or even ask about what happened, he shrugged it off.

The cool air felt heavenly against your skin, and the bright sun, smiling back at you against your face. You spread your arms out and took in the breeze as much as you could. Jason was fanning himself with the collar of his shirt, raising his arms up the same way you were. “AHHHHH.” He screamed. And you did the same. The frustration went out the window as fast as you’d ran.

“FUCKING FINALLY.”

“THAT IS NEVER HAPPENING AGAIN.”

“NEVER.”

You faced the sky, still taking the deep, fresh intakes of air. Jason placed his hands on his hips and ruffled his sweat covered hair.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Agreed,” you said. “Not even Ms. Peterson.”

“Not a single soul.”

You both faced each other, raising your brows, no longer from a glare or out of annoyance. Your body felt light. Your chest felt lighter. You were smiling.

“I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Kudos to us for surviving.”

A high five. And you both laughed, still feeling that flush of relief flow throughout your limbs. No one was in school yet. It was Saturday, though. No one but a few of the faculty members were going to show up.

But the sky looked pink, mixed with a bright yellowish orange. The driveway never looked so clean, and the breeze was so wonderfully cold, with the autumn leaves still floating on the grass and the roads, you just felt happy. Your lingering gaze on Jason helped with that bright smile.

As if twelve hours in the library was nothing. As if it wasn’t torture at all.

As if it was, in fact, the most fun you’ve had in a single night in a long, long time.

“Walk safe.”

“Bye, Todd.”

Walking towards opposite ends of the sidewalk, hands on your sides and not in your pockets like you usually would. You couldn’t stop grinning.

Sparing one last glance behind you, seeing him get on his motorcycle, you turned to the corner of the street.

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-------

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH PLS TELL ME YOU ENJOYED THAT CUZ I CERTAINLY DID

THE SINGING SCENE IS REALLY INSPIRED BY LIZ GILLIES (REMEMBER THE READER IS BASED ON JADE WEST) SO THE FAST CAR SINGING SCENE WAS ACTUALLY INSPIRED BY THIS VIDEO

Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nugget http-cherries shadowsndaisies