#ignore that this looks like shit I drew all this at like 3AM

[mixmangosmangoverse]

Hello Making Fiends fandom

[hardyimagines]

Sleepy

Eddie brock going out with his gf at like 3am to a cafe just to drink hot chocolate and chill cause they had trouble sleeping. Is that a decent one shot tiny idea thingy?

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The moon was bright in the night’s sky. Stars sprinkled the blank area surrounding the glowing orb, glittering in the sky vibrantly. The city below was dark, most homes cascaded in a sheet of black as the owners slept peacefully behind closed doors. There were cars that would occasionally speed down the empty streets, fleeing past the lights that had been tinted green for majority of the night. There were a few fast food restaurants still open, sleepy employees residing inside with bored expressions and droopy eyes as they impatiently waiting for the clocks on the wall to strike a certain time, signaling for their departure. And for the remaining people who remained awake along with the city, people like you and your boyfriend, it was night’s like these when you just couldn’t seem to fall into slumber.

The air outside was chilly, much chillier than it was during the day now that you were without the heated glow from the sun. You walked alongside your boyfriend, clumpy slippers slapping the pavement beneath you as you shuffled beside him. Your hair was drawn up in a messy bun, fingertips wrapped around a dark purple, fluffy blanket that you had lugged off the sofa on your way out the front door and clutched around your body. You had smeared eyeliner under your eyes from the night before and you were dressed down in a pair of pyjama pants that belonged to the man at your side but they were too small for him, yet still baggy on you, so you’d taken them. Your eyes dropped to the plaid material, studying it for half a second before your attention was pulled to the heavy weight added to your shoulders.

Eddie Brock moved along beside you, his arm now rested around you snugly. His fingertips were gentle on the comfy fabric of the blanket, rubbing your arm through the thick material as he continued to talk to you about the nightmare he’d seemed to keep slipping into throughout the night.

“I’m telling you, babe,” He sighed breathily, his breaths visible in the streetlights glow. “It was terrifying. I mean, really, imagine a sixty foot tall horse trampling over you.” He lifted his gaze to the trees in the distance, as if a dark shadow would emerge from the clutter of leaves to reveal itself as this creature his brain had conjured up.

“Eddie.” Your eyes fluttered as they drifted up to his own. Your long lashes tickled your cheeks every time you blinked. “Honey, you have a parasite living inside you, how can you possibly be scared of a horse.” The amusement in your tone told Eddie that you were merely teasing the symbiote that lived inside him by using the term Venom hated most. Parasite. The flicker of Venom in Eddie’s gaze made your lips curve up on one side into a lopsided smirk. Opening your blanket, you stepped in closer to him and weaved your strong grip around his waist, squeezing him tightly.

Eddie peered down at you, doing his best to ignore the internal complaints that Venom continued to drone on about. Eddie wished that your thoughts could be invaded just as his were. It really wasn’t fair that he had to suffer all on his own.

The conversation came to a halt when you drew the heavy door open that led to the diner. The place was small, a hole in the wall, but it was known for its family business and original recipes — not to mention it was delicious — so the customers would pile in on a daily basis, typically in the mornings. They were also open 24/7 and any business that was tended to be worthy of being so. You stepped inside, unsurprised to find that it was even colder inside the small building. Eddie held the door open and piled in directly after you, coming to a stop when his chest brushed against your back. He was taller than you, chin almost pressed against the back of your head as his hands lifted to graze your covered arms.

The redhead by the door was busy smacking on a piece of gum, pink apron tied around her waist with a frilly lace lining the bottom. She was wearing a frizzy wig and bright blue eyeshadow. It was all a part of the outfit that her mother insisted was adorable — and therefore good for business. She thought she looked like a cheap extra, auditioning for a role in some movie that took place in the 50’s. The name tag on her white shirt read ‘Margaret’ and as you parted your lips to greet her, she did the same. Her lengthy nails lifted to dip past the curls and scratch at the wig that had been irritating her scalp for hours.

“Welcome.” She smiled sweetly, almost too kindly. “Would you like a table or a booth?”

Eddie’s eyes were busy dragging along the length of the room. There weren’t many people inside, but why would there be? The only other people here at this time of night would be people who travelled for work, policemen, the elderly, and people like you — people who couldn’t sleep.

You shuffled in front of your boyfriend, arm lifting so you could point toward the booth in the corner. “Booth is fine.” You didn’t mean to suggest a specific one, it was just habit to animatedly use your hands.

Eddie’s eyes flickered back to the girl as she spoke to you, gathering two menu’s and a slip of paper with the specials scribbled along the front. “Right this way.” She sighed before stepping past the pair of you and leading you through the scattered tables. Eddie was dressed down in a dark grey hoodie and some jeans he’d yanked on when you snagged the blanket from the sofa. His hand managed to find yours as it barely crept out of the underside of the blanket. Taking it in his own, he followed you toward the table that the lady ushered toward. You slid into the booth and Eddie followed suit. The woman would’ve given the pair of you a look of judgement, but she was too tired to poke fun at the fact that you’d both settled for one side when booths were double-sided. She dropped the menu’s down on the table before ensuring she’d be right back.

You knew she was probably lying, no doubt heading into the back to prepare some coffee and cups of water before she’d slip out the back door for a quick cigarette. Well, you assumed so since she stunk of ash and smoke, not that it bothered you. It wasn’t as if the pair of you were in a rush to get back home so you wouldn’t have minded if she climbed into her car and drove off to buy a pack of cigarettes, much less had a quick one in the alley. You frowned softly, realizing that you were lost in your thoughts and analyzing such a small thing. If it weren’t for Eddie’s raised brows and inquisitive stare you probably would’ve remained there, inspecting each person tucked away inside.

You didn’t feel the sleepy droopiness yanking at your stubborn eyelids just yet so you fixed them on your boyfriend. A slow smile pulled at your lips. Unlike you, he did look exhausted. He had forming bags under his eyes that left a visible dark shadow and his chin was propped up in his palm, supporting the weight of it since he didn’t have a pillow to lay on. It wouldn’t matter if he did and it didn’t matter that his eyes begged him to close. He couldn’t find the oblivion that was ordinarily so easy.

“So,” You spoke up as you grabbed ahold of one of the menu’s. Lifting it so you could inspect the muddled words in front of you, your heart sank. The font was small on the plastic, rectangular card. “Shit, i didn’t bring my contacts.”

Eddie’s brows arched at your choice of words before directing his stare toward the menu you clutched. Lifting his arm, he draped it across your shoulders, warm and exposed muscles grazing the softness of the purple blanket you still had draped around your body. “Here, I’ll read it to you.” He mumbled out, voice drowning with tiredness. He grasped one corner of the sheet but instead of dragging it away from you, he slid across the seat so that your bodies were closer together. Staring down at the options, he tried to keep it simple instead of running through a hundred different items. “Do you know sort of what you want?” He inquired, heavy breaths tickling your shoulder and cheek.

You craned you’re neck to the side, lips almost bumping his cheek. “Um.. pancakes.”

“Plain?” He grunted, doing his best to avoid the breaths of yours that tickled his rough skin.

“Plain?” You scoffed. “Are you sure you’re my boyfriend?” Plucking the menu away from him completely, you discarded it back on the clean table before rotating on the squishy cushion to face him.

“Nutella.” He corrected himself, looking in your direction slowly. Even sitting, he was taller than you. His fingertips pressed against your arm firmly, dragging you toward him so that you were forced to meet him in the middle for a gentle kiss.

“Mh, there you go.” You mumbled against his lips, not daring to break it first.

His smile broke the lip lock, teeth on show and therefore forcing your lips to graze his pearly whites. “Nutella is so sticky. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” His eyes were tinted over with amusement. “You’re disgusting.”

“Funny you should say that.. last time I had Nutella smeared on my lips, you licked it off.” Your brows arched in an accusing manner. “So clearly I’m not that disgusting.”

Eddie chuckled under his breath at the memory that formed in his head. Turning toward the little machine perched on the corner of the table, he drew it toward him to rest so he could type in your order. “Two pancakes?” He asked quietly.

Your eyes moved to the screen. The longer you thought about the pancakes, the lesser they seemed to appeal to you. Pursing your lips, you reached out and let your hand cover his own, big eyes squinting. “Nevermind, Baby. I don’t think I’m hungry enough for food.” Your eyes lit up at the beverages. “I think I just want a hot chocolate.”

Eddie turned his head toward your own to inspect you. “Are you sure? We can always bring them home if you don’t eat them all.” He offered.

The table in front of the pair of you blinked, waiting for the order to be placed. Eddie waited for your response, but you were busy scrolling through the lengthy list of flavors that they could add into the hot, creamy, mug of chocolate. You’d grown up hating the cup of goodness. You could hear your mother’s faint voice as she asked you if you were interested in a cup. You’d stick your tongue out in distaste before claiming that it was too sweet for your liking. Now, you drank it so often that Eddie joked at times you should just grow out a mustache — seeing as you typically had a faux chocolate one across your upper lip most mornings.

“No,” You finally spoke up quietly, pressing on a cup of hot chocolate with a cocoa stick and whipped cream. “It’s okay, baby, really. I think I’m just trying to convince myself I’m hungry because we’re here, but i probably wouldn’t even be able to take one bite, I know it.” Kissing his rough, stubbly cheek, you lingered in place before offering the tablet up to him. Eddie was the farthest thing from picky so with a brief inspection of what you’d ordered, he pressed the small ‘1’ that resided beside your drink and changed it to a ‘2’ so he could have the exact same thing.

In the corner of the room, a small computer lit up brightly with your order. You briefly looked in the direction where the quiet ding erupted from before lifting your hand to the back of your boyfriends neck. Giving him your sole attention, you ignored the woman — a different woman than the one who had seated you.

Eddie set his elbow on the table and let a heavy breath of air escape his lips. He was tired, but it seemed that the only time his body was willing to sleep was at the worst times. Now was not the most opportune moment and yet there he sat in the bright diner, chilly air wrapped around his body as he sat in the booth with droopy eyes directed at you.

Your hand lifted to his hair, brushing through the thick strands slowly, smoothing them down. “You know, for a person who couldn’t get any sleep, you sure do look like you’re on the verge of passing out.”

Eddie smirked toward you before leaning in and slowly wrapping his arm around your shoulders. His lips moved to your own, stealing a few soft kisses before he shrunk back against the chair and directed his stare toward the table. “It’s a lot easier to sleep when I’m not suppose to be.” He grunted. “And Venom’s being awfully quiet so that helps too.”

Your eyes searched his for a few moments, wondering silently if the symbiote’s need to talk all night was what kept your boyfriend up at such late hours. “Well we can take our hot chocolate’s to go.” You murmured sleepily. The bright light was beaming down on your sensitive eyes, forcing them to grow droopy just as Eddie’s had. “Maybe we need to start sleeping with our bedroom lights on and our air conditioner on high.”

Eddie chuckled lowly before moving his hand to rest on your upper back. He traced lazy shapes along your skin, over your shirt. “We can stay here. We’ll grow sleepier and sleepier and then when we get home, hopefully we’ll pass out.” He drew you toward him so your head could lay against his broad chest. The sound of his heartbeat comforted you, lulling your droopy eyes to flutter before closing. The pair of you were probably a sight, curled up in the small booth pressed against one another while you waited for your drinks.

Shockingly, it didn’t take long at all before a waitress came sauntering over with a tiny try. She lifted each mug by the warm handles and set them on the table in front of each of you before taking the tablet and setting the screen to check-out. She made sure there was nothing else either of you needed before excusing herself so she could tend to the other tables. Not chocolate must’ve been very popular at this hour because you hadn’t had to wait very long. You lifted your head away from Eddie’s chest, unsurprised to find that it felt so heavy. Peering down at the whipped cream that lined the rim of your mug, you leaned forward and licked the topping before looking toward your boyfriend when he did the exact same. The only difference was that he’d managed to smear some on his nose. You didn’t have a chance to point it out before he lifted his hand to his face and with the back of his wrist, wiped away the smudge. You smiled fondly toward the man before slipping your hand beneath the table and letting your fingertips graze his thigh. It was innocent. A touch just to touch him. But he sent you a side glance either way, inspecting your true intentions for only a moment before his hand lowered to cover your own.

A peaceful silence settled over the two of you. The only sounds present were your occasional giggles when he was messy due to the cream. The hot beverage was soothing on your throat, it made your body internally hot but weirdly comfortable. It was probably because of how cold it was inside the establishment. Eddie leaned his head to the side and let his temple find your shoulder as he continued to sip at the chocolate.

“We should’ve drove.” He finally spoke. His voice was heavy and low. The gruffness of it told you all you needed to know — he didn’t feel like walking. Especially not now, now that his limbs were deadweights and his body was ready to absolutely collapse. He leaned against your body further, arm moving to loop around your waist. You lifted your hand to his hair and began to caress the messy strands. With your free hand, you adjusted the blanket that was draped around you and made it so that it laid across him as well.

“I can get us an uber, baby. Don’t worry about walking.” You assured him. Sending a look toward a waitress in the corner, who’d been gawking at Eddie for what seemed like the second she handed him his hot chocolate, you turned your head and kissed his nose softly. It was the easiest part of him to reach. You were unsurprised when his head tipped and he leaned in for an even better kiss. Your lips pressed to his own for a few seconds before you drew back and pulled your phone from the little zip on the front of your purse. Eddie watched the blinding light from your phone before his eyes slid shut. He could hear the faint tapping of your thumbs as you clicked the little icons and typed in the addresses. Your hot chocolate wasn’t even close to being finished though, so before confirming the ride, you set your phone on the table so it would be ready when the pair of you were.

As you sipped your got chocolate, indulging in pointless conversation every now and then, Eddie remained slumped against you with his mouth hanging partially open and his eyes closed completely. It was only when you were in the middle of discussing the strangeness about chocolate being able to rock them to sleep that you heard a faint, little snore leave his lips. Your head turned, inspecting the big, sleepy bear. Your heart tightened and a little smile graced your lips. You figured you could get his hot chocolate to go, but he wouldn’t drink it cold and he’d insist it didn’t taste the same if he warmed it up. You reached around his body for the little screen on the ledge and pulled your wallet from your pocket so you could pay for the drinks.

Eddie’s body followed your shoulder wherever it went and when you began to squirm to get back in your regular position, he sleepily wrapped his arms around your body more securely. You could tell, with each passing second, that he was falling deeper and deeper asleep. So the guilt that pooled in your stomach seemed to instantly swallow you whole.

How the hell were you going to wake him up and get him to the uber?

He was finally sleeping.

The envy that flooded you intertwined with the guilt though and as you felt the reluctance to wake him, you also felt the desire to join him. Your hands fell to his hard shoulders, squeezing them tenderly before your thumb mashed the ‘confirm’ button on your phone. You supposed you could let him sleep until the headlights rolled up outside. Tilting your head so that it rested against his own, you let your eyes flutter just for the time being. The driver was still 8 minutes away, so you figured it would be okay to just rest your eyes.

The waitress in the corner lifted a brow. The pair of you definitely were a sight. Sitting in a booth, laid against one another with a frilly blanket draped around you. The glow from your phone pulled her gaze to the glass door, peering outside. She wasn’t stupid. Loads of people came to the diner at all hours in the morning. You weren’t the first couple to fall asleep while waiting for your ride, and you wouldn’t be the last. She crept up to the table and cleaned the dishes off the surface before making her way back to the counter. Along with waitressing and clean up duty, she also considered herself to be an alarm clock — for she would wonder over and wake any slumbering customers when their lifts had arrived. She slumped against the wall and waited patiently, arms folding over her chest and big green eyes sliding along the darkness that kissed the windows. Patience seemed to be a necessity — a requirement for this job. She was lucky she had plenty.

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A/N: I know this is shitty and very simple, but I’ve gotta her back into it 🥺💞 thank you so much for your patience!!

[octalove]

VI: The Dotted Line

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Jason extends an offer. Part one, two, three, four, and five.

Note: someone said Batgirl and Jason mission, and i am but a humble servant of the people. also, i almost named this chapter “Carolyn Crawford”. Hope you like❤️

TW: Decription of sex work (barely), very light gore

Being back at Batman’s side was a peculiar thing these days. Soothing and suffocating all at once; like returning home after a long, liberating trip. It felt easy, and safe. I was reminded of the first time he brought me up to a towering building top. I clung to Nightwing like a life preserver.

Once I found my footing, the building tops were the only place I felt safe. The taller the skyscraper, the higher and farther from the grim city that raised me. I wondered what would happen when I outgrew the skyscrapers, too.

November was settling like an icy blanket over Gotham. My breath wreathed around me as my chest heaved from scaling the office building I was settled on, hoping to catch a glimpse of the gray dawn as 2am turned to 3am. I could see Robin’s breath too, as he crouched like a gargoyle on the balls of his feet. Even when I pushed his arm lightly, he glared, but didn’t move. The kid had incredible balance.

“I was beginning to enjoy your absence.” He muttered.

I smiled at him. “Are you kidding? Patrol is boring without me.”

“Patrol is boring without brainless plebeians to subdue. I can make due without you.”

“So you’re saying you don’t consider me a brainless plebeian?” I replied.

His lip twitched. He liked this game. It was the birthplace of many of his preferred insults.

“Closer to a bumbling fawn.”

“I like that one.”

Damian’s disinterest in all things regarding my thoughts and feelings was a good distraction. I’d been using him for the past week since my latest brush with Red Hood. Well, Jason. It was still hard to wrap my mind around.

I knew him. He knew me. I shouldn’t have been worried; he knew nothing about me. Nothing other than who I was, anyway. I wanted to ignore whatever residual feeling was left from fighting him on the docks, and I really wanted to say I hadn’t thought about the last thing he said to me. But in truth, I’d thought of little else. The large gaps of time between our meetings left time for that.

We were looking for him tonight. More specifically, Batman and Nightwing were. Robin and I were sent to the quiet apartment rows of Crest Hill, watching over nothing in particular. Sent to keep us away from the fray. Even Robin knew it. When Batman said we’d be patrolling here, he looked like he could rip the head off a puppy.

“Movement in Coventry.”

“On it. Thanks, Oracle.”

One of the better quirks of Damian Wayne was that in the case he was spurned by his favored allies (Bruce, Dick), he quickly formed new alliances (me, Tim). Bumbling fawn comment aside, I could tell I was in his good graces tonight by utter happenstance and Batman’s shortcomings. I was nothing if not opportunistic.

“We can get to Coventry before they can.” I said quickly, keeping the nervous excitement in my voice to a minimum. He eyed me cautiously.

“Batman may be trying not to take risks, but we can handle a couple of goons. Besides,” I added. “Red Hood will probably be gone by then. He always is.” I was overselling it; Robin was already standing, eyes roving over the city scape in search of the best route to Coventry. I stood with him, then let the free-fall adrenaline send exciting jolts through my stomach as we grappled toward our destination.

I could see him, in my mind. His face on the docks, bathed with the flame of his lighter. Hear his voice, full of purpose and noble fury as he promised revenge. I understood his cause, but didn’t understand him, and that was the mystery that poisoned my mind and stole my ability to sleep. Not Red Hood. Jason Todd.

*

Robin and I perched over a factory compound on the water’s edge, Sprang River’s lower fork rushing by at the end of the factory court. A handful of men moved like ants in the flooding white lights that lit the exterior. The wind distorted the sounds of their voices. Robin must have had the same thought because he moved soundlessly to a lower roof panel, advancing on the building. I followed. One man began shouting.

“I’m going to the Northern pylon.” Robin whispered. Divide and conquer. I wasn’t going to argue. I kept my eyes on his silhouetted form to ensure he didn’t encounter any resistance on his way, then worked by way around the court, hoping I could get a good idea of the place before he reached his vantage point. The sky was lightening, and we were losing time.

Just as I was about to check the lot on the opposite side of the factory, a metal door swung open, scraping against the metal parapet. Red Hood walked out, accompanied by a man in a factory jumpsuit. I couldn’t make out their conversation.

I crept along the high factory railing as they meandered across the court, deep in conversation. I kept it up for around six minutes before his companion departed, heading for the lot.

“Robin,” I whispered into my comms. “There’s a man heading toward the parking lot. Trail him.”

“I see him.”

With Robin in the Southern parking lot a safe distance away, I watched Red Hood slowly pull away from the lights and people, heading toward the darker exhaust plants East of the court. It became a struggle to keep and eye on him and my footing at the same time, but I did it. He stopped at a motorcycle parked behind an electric turbine about a klick from the factory. The sky was a pale gray now, ever-lightening with the dawn, and the shadows were burning away with it. I lowered by self behind an electrical box attached to one of the turbines.

“We’re en route- wait, Robin-“ The comms rang in my ear.

“I gave you a direct order.” Batman growled.

“It was a stupid order.” Robin clipped.

“Where’s Batgirl?”

Red was about to replace his red helm with a motorcycle helmet, but paused. He seemed to stall for a moment, before calling out.

“Come here, little bird.”

I was more annoyed than anything. I was ready to be a step ahead of him for once. But then, I couldn’t resent him for giving me what I wanted. I stood, and took in his empty hands before approaching. He’d leaned against the metal turbine, arms crossed as he regarded me with an unreadable expression.

“They’re here, you know.” I warned.

“Call ‘em, then. I won’t move. I know I’m good, but I’d be outnumbered. Bad odds.”

I scowled. “I’m not gonna do that.” I said it because he already knew it. We both did. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

“You thought about what I said.”

“Of course I did.”

He glanced around, then pulled himself up straight and moved toward me. I took a few steps back, prompting him to flash me his empty hands, raised in surrender.

“Relax, darlin’.” He said. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. I don’t want you to be. I want you to understand.”

“How? How do I understand?” I’d been trying for a month. He pulled a small piece of paper from his jacket pocket, holding it out and letting me take it, keeping a safe, considerate distance. Inside, was a number.

“Come with me. One job. Nice and easy.” He said.

“I’m not killing anyone.” I said sternly, voice dropping.

“I’m not askin’ you to.”

“And I’m not standing by and letting you kill anyone.”

“You drive a hard bargain. Fine. We’ll do it clean.” I didn’t even know if I believed him. But I was tired of trying to understand him from a safe, considerate distance.

“We’re almost at location. Four minutes.” Nightwing’s voice almost made me jump. I lifted my eyes.

“You need to go.”

He was already turning on his heel.

*

It was two days before I texted him. I got a glorious three hours of sleep over the course of them, and I kept running down either respective fork in my road before turning around and running back. In the end, I subsided to the fact that I was raised by two business-women, and Jason’s offer was at worst an opportunity. If it all went to shit, and he tried to kill me, I’d at least have some information to present to Bruce, notwithstanding the lifetime of punishment that would get me.

Our rendezvous point was in Lower Gotham Proper. By the time I got there, it was midnight, and a rolling mist had blown in from the harbor, mixing with the smog that hugged the streets and making it nearly unsafe to drive. I silently hoped Batman and Robin were okay.

As I worked my way down a narrow street, the moisture in the air was choking; causing the fabric of my pants and jacket to cling to my skin. I’d almost prefer rain to the way the mist stood still, forcing me to muddle through it. It was dark. The lights and signs on surrounding buildings didn’t seem to be able to preserve through the fog.

I saw a figure pressed against a building that looked tall enough to be Jason. As I approached, we regarded each other’s forms apprehensively. When he tilted his head, I knew it was him. I drew close.

“Jesus.” I mumbled. “Could you have picked a spookier place?”

“Don’t tell me you scare easy.” He said through a cigarette. His helmet was in his hand, but it could’ve easily been mistaken for a motorcycle helmet. The whole get-up was kind of biker-esque. I didn’t answer. Just glanced around.

“Come on.” He said. “It’s not far.”

As we began walking, it struck me how much more relieved I felt to hear his footsteps alongside my own. I was capable; willing and able to fight just about anyone Gotham could conjure up. But still, walking with him was comforting. Like I had someone to watch my back.

We even eased into a bit of conversation. Small things- things we agreed upon. Rich society, and Gotham’s war on the poor. Politicians we wouldn’t mind going missing. If you had showed me his picture next his crime scenes, I wouldn’t have pinned him.

Jason wasn’t unpleasant; it was just that his disposition was highly aloof and somewhat irritable. He had rich bronze skin, and full lips that I was sure made for a charming smile when he decided to do so (not a grin, a smile). The composition of his face was very sharp and neatly symmetrical, but still held some gaunt exhaustion, revealed by the constant tense of his jaw. His attentive dark eyes were almost always narrowed in some fashion of distaste. He never once looked at peace.

It seemed to me that he was disinterested in most anything having to do with my life, other than that he wanted me with him. His entire being was an oxymoron; a juxtaposition of unexpectedly soft and startlingly sharp and there wasn’t a way to tell which it would be.

Finally, we approached a small, industrial building with a neon sign of red, blue, and green.

The Lion’s Den

Burlesque and Drag

I raised my eyebrows. A bit on the nose if you asked me. If the name didn’t give it away, the posters and marquees adorning the brick exterior did.

“We need to talk to someone here before we go.” Jason said, pulling on his helmet, and unzipping his brown leather jacket to showcase the bat.

“Lead on.” I said, pulling up my own mask.

The music was so loud, I could barely hear myself think. The led lights lining the ceiling were cycling warm colors; red, pink, orange, yellow, the glow burning through the smokescreen that was nearly as thick as the mist outside.

Women were dancing, in lace or topless, spinning on poles and otherwise moving gracefully to the heartbeat of the place. But that wasn’t the main event- a stage lit with marquee lights, the centerpiece of which was a table, where three women sat. Their outfits were something out of Marie Antoinette’s personal wardrobe. And that’s where Red Hood was headed.

We walked up onto the stage, and while it all sort of mingled with the dim neon in the rest of the building, I still felt oddly seen. I placed myself behind Red Hood, inserted between him and one of the women. They appeared to be playing cards.

“Well, well.” Said one of the queens, with blonde hair curled and blown out like something out of the 70’s. Her exaggerated, colorful makeup was a work of art- Picasso, perhaps. “Gonna stick around for the show this time, sugar?”

Red sat down, leaning so that his arm rested along the back of the chair, lights glinting off his helm. His relaxed composure made me nervous- but perhaps it was the lack of information.

“Not this time, Trixy.” He answered.

“Pity,” Said the broad redhead beside me, her voice a low, soothing timber. “You neva’ do.”

“Don’t be rude, Sasha.” The third woman scolded, throwing down an Ace of Spades, to the visible dismay of the others. “He’s a busy man.”

“Who’s your friend?” Trixy asked.

I glanced at Red Hood before answering. “Just a little bird.”

“How delightful. Let’s get down to the nitty gritty, shall we?” Trixy said. “Did Dominique get the message to ya?”

“Refresh my memory.” Red Hood said- for my sake, I’m sure.

“Bout a week ago, a bunch of girls from the Row went missin’. Ain’t unusual,” Trixy said darkly, “Most don’t got no family or nothin’. Just us lookin’ out for ‘em. When we run outta beds here, that’s when they go missin’. But it’s different this time. Buncha girls all at once- including one ‘a the queens.”

“Tiffany Spice.” Sasha said, a solemn look on her face. “She was just comin’ into herself. Lord, I’d be devastated if somethin’ happened.”

“Some a’ the row girls been talkin’ about this real shifty fella- Baron Haus. New guy. Used to pimp out girls from the Narrows.”

“And the girls disappeared when he showed up.” I said quietly.

“Bingo.”

“How many?” Red asked.

“About eight, Tiffany included.”

“And you know where he was working from?” I inquired.

“Sha’ do. China Town. Club there called the Moonlight.”

Red Hood nodded. “Anything else me and my little bird should know?”

Trixy thought for a moment. “Baron’s got some friends in GCPD. Had some uncles in the force, or somethin’ of that nature. He’ll be missed. More dead.” She spit the term bitterly.

“They always are.” He responded, getting up from his chair.

“And Hoodie, sugar!” She called after us. “You’re a doll for this.” He didn’t reply. As we worked our way back toward the front, he spoke quietly.

“I thought it’d be better if you met ‘em yourself. Always makes it more personal.”

Batman never did that.

“Do you always make it personal?” I asked.

“It’s not fun if it isn’t.”

The freezing moisture in the air bit fiercely as we pushed open the metal screen door.

“Right.” I said. “So, the Moonlight. How are we getting there?”

“How do you think?” He said, stopping short of a rusted yellow fire escape on the side of the building. He surveyed it, then looked at me.

“Race ya.”

With surprising speed and grace, he scaled the fire escape, no sound in his wake.

“Oh, it’s on.” I fired, rushing to the bars and climbing like they were monkey bars. He disappeared over the edge of the roof, and as I made my way up, I saw him several years away, already conquering another building. I raced toward him, leaping over exhaust pipes until we were high above the fog. The city below looked like an illuminated ocean, twinkling lights just below a pillowy white surface.

I felt like a child again, overwhelmed, nearly brought to giddiness with excitement. Was this how Bruce felt, scaling rooftops with Catwoman? The small, but sure thrill of consorting with the bad guy- knowing that they were consorting with you in return?

I wasn’t a sidekick. There was no line to fall into. No predecessors, no successors, no beginning and no end. I moved like Batgirl across the shingles and concrete and metal scaffolding, but I was weightless without the Bat legacy on my chest. There was something deeply, shamefully freeing about that.

*

We were greeted differently in the Moonlight; a stark contrast to the warm welcome by the queens in the Lion’s Den. It was set up more like a smoky, refined gentlemen’s club. We drew attention from every walk of life inhabiting the bar- men in suits, women in silk, and slimy looking characters that grated offensively against the debonair theme.

Most leered for a moment, then cast their eyes away, like they’d seen something they shouldn’t have. Maybe you could consider Red Hood one of those such things.

“Mr. Hood!” There came a voice, cutting above the orchestral music- Nessun Dorma, if my musical sensibilities were still honed from my piano lesson days. “Welcome, welcome. I can only hope,” The man gave gritting smile, wound tight with visible anxiety. “That you’re here on peaceful business tonight.” He cast his nervous, monolid eyes to me. He was handsome, no older than thirty and wore a tight black vest. I didn’t let my body language give anything away; frankly, I was as in the dark as he was.

“Oh, you know me, Baron Jun,” Red Hood drawled, slowing to a halt at the bar, and leaning on it. “I don’t decide whether things stay peaceful or not. That depends on you.” I stayed standing, near his back, studying the security. Two lumbering men at the entrance, one behind Baron Jun. I wouldn’t put it past curvaceous bartender in red to have a gun, too.

“Lookin’ for Baron Haus. I heard a little rumor he works outta this quaint establishment now.”

When I’d considered the Red Hood’s contacts before, I pictured something like Batman’s relationship with Commissioner Gordon- figuring he had to have some corrupt cops or lowlife sleuths packing him with all his vast information. I never would have guessed it would be three drag queens playing cards.

A conflict passed over Baron Jun’s face, seconds long. “You… heard correctly. Word does seem to travel fast.”

“I need to pay him a visit. Remind him about some of my rules.” He admonished. It was a dripping warning, like the salivating jaws of an animal, teeth bared and pointed.

Baron Jun swallowed. “I see. Well, he um- he’s not actually here, at the moment. Maybe I can tell him you dropped b-“

“You know, Jun,” Red continued, ignoring him. “I got this really funny feeling you know what rules I’m talkin’ about.”

The look on his face was something to behold. I’d seen fear, briefly, on the faces of criminals before I subdued them and went on my way. But this was different. Fear induced by nothing but a conversation. Call it hive-mind, a power trip perhaps, but I felt this pesky sense of camaraderie that prompted me to take a few steps forward, shoulder to shoulder with Red Hood. Who was this vile little shitstain who made his living off men getting laid to play games with us? I thought about eight women, scared and abused. It was Baron Jun’s fault. Baron Haus’ fault. Everyone in this stupid bar, decorated to the taste of the men who abused them.

Baron Jun’s eyes dashed back and forth. Deny or ask forgiveness? I could see him running down those cross roads.

“He… he’s been running some shit I didn’t know about until last night. I swear I didn’t fuckin’ know.” He broke at last.

“Where are they?” I piped up.

“Who the fuck are-“ He was cut off with a bang and a scream as Red shot his knee. I was startled by the noise, but no one seemed to notice. It rang in my ear.

Give a girl a warning next time.

“Be. Fucking. Polite.” Red snapped, now advancing on the Baron. Only one of the three security guards decided it was worth the risk and stepped forward. Electric with the building energy of the whole night, I bolted forward and swung my fist into his throat. He made a choked noise and stumbled to the ground.

“Answer the question, Jun.” Red continued, this time in a taunting, sing-song tone.

“Oh, fuck,” Jun whimpered, cradling his knee. “Jesus- you- you shot me.”

“Always were a sharp one. I got a couple more bullets, and you’ve got another knee. So why don’t you sing before I get really impatient.”

“Christ.. they- they’re in the back. R-room fourteen.” His breath was labored with pain. I didn’t feel bad. Trusting that Red would handle the front and keep his promise of not killing anyone, I went to the back hallway, counting the doorways before reaching room 14. I made short work of the lock.

Some scuffling noises could be heard from the front room- but no further gunfire. I opened the door to reveal a velvet lounge, with red settees and satin curtains, along with fearful eyes looking back at me. I counted eight heads, including Tiffany Spice, who’d since abandoned his wig and gaudy attire. His make-up was streaked with long-dried tears.

“Tiffany Spice?” I asked, subservient to standard protocol despite my evening of rebellion.

“What’s going on out there?”

“Trixy sent us. You’re safe now.”

“Are the Barons gone?”

“They’re being dealt with.” I answered.

After finding them, the rest fell into place quickly. Red had indulged in some property destruction, and Baron Jun now reckoned with what appeared to be a shattered hand and some extra facial bruising.

I nodded briskly to Red and he, in turn, nodded to the bartender, who ushered the girls around.

Before departure, he knelt down in front of the Baron.

“You’re alive,” He said lowly. “Cause I’m doin’ someone a favor. If someone breaks the rules again,” He reached over and patted Jun’s pained face. “You be a good boy and come right to me. Okay?” Jun didn’t respond, nor take his bloodshot eyes off of his mangled hand, but Red straightened anyway and ushered me to the door.

Outside, we withdrew safely and quietly to a rooftop.

“Why did we leave them?” I asked.

“Trixy’s not my only contact. The bartender’s mine. She’ll get ‘em where they need to be.”

A beat.

“You knew Baron Haus wasn’t gonna be there.” I said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“That’s the only reason you promised me you wouldn’t kill anyone.”

Hesitation. “Yeah, it is.”

“Are you gonna track him down?” I asked. He didn’t answer. “Seriously.” I tried again. He sighed, then looked at me. I was seeing his eyes clearly for maybe the first time all night. It was sobering, and he held my gaze.

“Yes. Yes, I’m going to kill him.” He said firmly. I looked away.

“He’s got a track record.” He explained. “Does shit like this, gets caught, and then uses his friends in blue to get a lighter sentence. Three months, maybe. Then, he’s back. I’m not the first one to catch him. But I promise you, I’ll be the fuckin’ last.” His vitriol was oil on concrete, and I decided it was better not to light any matches. The rest of the walk was quiet, neither of us making the catalytic initiative to part ways, coming down from the adrenaline the way we’d built it; in each other’s uncertain company.

*

We settled on top of St. Luke’s Hospital, towering defiantly amidst the smaller, crowded inner city neighborhoods below. It was 4am, but I wasn’t tired. Quite the opposite; I was awash with energy, by grace of the night’s feat and the biting cold. Jason had pulled his helmet off, and was leaning against the steel exhaust pipe, myself nestled at his side.

“I have another place I need to go. Three days- Mafia business in Little Italy.” He said.

“And you want me to come?” I asked. He tipped his head.

“What can I say, doll? You’re good at this.”

I looked over the city, brow furrowing.

“Unless,” He added in a low voice, wry and challenging. “You think it’s wrong. I am the bad guy, aren’t I?”

I didn’t look at him, because I knew he was wearing a darkly arrogant expression, and I didn’t want to see it. No, there was nothing wrong about what we did tonight. Even if there was; I’d do it all again for the relief on Tiffany’s tear-streaked face.

“I’ll go.” I said. “But you have to tell me something. Honestly.” I said firmly, bringing my eyes to meet his. He cocked an eyebrow.

“Ask away.”

“Why me? Why don’t you hate me like you hate them?” Them. My family. Our family. Hate seemed a harsh word, but only after I supplied it, was I reminded of its truth. Jason studied me for a few agonizing moments, allowing only the sound of wind and distant, crying sirens.

“Carolyn Crawford.” He finally said.

“What?”

Carolyn Crawford.

I’d forgotten all about her. My life was sort of divided by this giant, barbed wire fence between before adoption and after adoption. Evidently, my brain decided that anything before adoption would be better of folded up, sealed with wax, and filed away. Traumatic memory suppression, the shrink Bruce sent me to called it- even though the only traumatic thing was the night my parents died, not everything that came before.

Nonetheless, Carolyn Crawford was somebody I hadn’t given any particular thought to in a long time. She was a woman of forty (at the time I was thirteen), and she had that snooty, Diamond District disposition that you only find in women who marry into wealth, but aren’t born with it. She was beautiful; pale skin, thin, with an air of 1950’s suave, accentuated by the auburn bob of artificial curls she always wore. Her husband was an investor in Wayne Enterprises, and she was sleeping with Bruce.

I had no reason to know, or care about this. But Jason did. When he found out, he was uncharacteristically devastated. I could imagine, in retrospect, that when you’re a boy of fifteen and you find out the man who adopted you- a man who was a holyfigure in your eyes, the good guy- was sleeping with a married woman ten years his senior, you may experience a bit of devastation. He had something, some virtuous perception of Bruce, ripped away from him, and he was given a concept that his father, too, had vices. His one vice; women.

Jason was angry. He wanted the world’s perception of Bruce to crumble alongside his own, and so he took all the valor in his teenage body and enacted his own justice.

An anonymous email was sent to just about every company partner or investor, including Carolyn’s husband, and my parents, disclosing a picture of Bruce in some secluded room at a gala, with his arm around Carolyn’s waist, leaning intimately into her ear. She had a wry smile on her face. Above the photo was a single tag line.

“Carolyn Crawford is fucking Bruce Wayne.”

My parents gossiped about the email, of course, when they thought I wasn’t leaning against the office door. But that was all I ever knew about it. Apparently Carolyn’s husband didn’t divorce her, but he did cut her off financially, which may as well have been the same loss.

That was all I heard of it, up until a charity event on a particularly cold January night. The January before Jason’s death. I was waltzing around as per usual, a cup of punch in my hand. Waiting for the clock to tick its way to eleven o’clock- when I knew my mothers would want to depart so they could get up for work the next morning. The music was lovely; fluttering strings.

“You!” It was a harsh sound, like a shrieking banshee, or the whining note of a violin when all the bow hairs are frayed.

Carolyn Crawford was marching right toward Jason, fury on her beautiful face. I didn’t catch the beginning of the conversation as I tried to make my way through the bodies, of which a few were also alarmed by the sound.

“...you’re the only one who could’ve done it, you little- don’t lie to me!”

Jason was defiant there, with his arms crossed and his lip slightly raised, but I could tell by the nervous look in his eye that she was pointing her bony finger at the right suspect. I’m certain it was Bruce who figured it out.

“What the hell are you talking about, lady?” He said.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I know you sent that email. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“You’re outta your mind.”

“You’re going to regret this, I promise. I’m going to make sure that this follows you-“

“He didn’t send the email!” I said, pushing past a man who was eagerly watching, like it was the best thing he’d seen all night. I’m not even sure what possessed me to offer up the statement- maybe the way she was throwing her venom in his face and jabbing her finger at his chest.

“I did it.” I said. I didn’t look at Jason, but from the corner of my eye, I could see his mouth fall open. Carolyn Crawford turned on me.

“What?”

“I sent the email.” I said. We’d drawn more observers now, a small, hushed crowd of people too polite to intervene, but too curious to look away.

“Who the hell are you? And why would you do that?” Up close, I could see that she looked like she hadn’t slept. Other little things too; a pearl out place, stray hairs. She’d probably been through hell since Jason sent that email.

I leveled my gaze on her. “You really need to ask? What kind of wife-“

Slap.

Her open palm swung across my cheek so hard that I nearly stumbled into a donation table. There was a pressure in my ear, and then a stinging sensation. I put my hand to my cheek, and when I looked back up at her, she was eyeing the shocked crowd. Then, she turned, and walked briskly toward the exit, heels clicking on the marble.

Everyone stood there, looking at me. I flushed, shrinking under the weight of their eyes, feeling like an animal in a zoo. My mothers were nowhere to be found, and neither was Bruce.

In a swift movement, Jason grabbed my hand, shooting angry glares like daggers toward anyone who was looking, and ushered me into a secluded corner.

“Why did you do that? What the hell is wrong with you?” He whispered frantically, obviously battling whether he should touch my face or not. He decided not.

I gave him an insulted look. “I was helping you, jackass!”

“Well, you didn’t help!” He said, before adding, more exasperatedly. “You just got hurt.”

I shrugged, taking my hand off my cheek, probably to show him some modicum of strength, or defiance. “It’s not that bad.”

It was that bad. It was the first time I had ever been hit, by anybody. I actually wanted to cry. But I was dedicated to my tough girl role, so I didn’t.

“I’m sorry.” He said, surprising me with the fearful apologeticism in his voice. “I’m really sorry- you shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve said something. I just fuckin’ stood there like-“

“Hey! It’s okay. I did it because I wanted to. Besides, it really doesn’t matter who did what. She’s just mad she ruined her own marriage.”

He shook his head and slunk down beside me on the cold marble. The AC was offensively imposing for the middle of January, and I hugged my knees to my chest as we watched the guests disperse, dragging back the events of the night to gossip about later, like foxes carry prized rabbits.

*

“Carolyn Crawford?” I repeated. “That’s what this is about?”

Jason gave me a wiry look, a lopsided smile, then threw his head back and laughed, contagiously so. I let out a disbelieving chuckle.

“I mean,” He added, “Not all of it. A little.” There was residual laughter in his tone, and it made me want to lean into him.

“A ‘little’. Okay. Should I be getting in touch with Carolyn Crawford and thanking her for rekindling this little partnership?”

“Yeah.” He said. “Send her an email.”

I laughed again. “Seriously, Jason, what the fuck are you talking about?”

His grin lingered, and his eyes fell over the city. I could see the gears turning as he considered his response. Then he just shrugged.

“You covered for me.”

“Yeah.”

“And...” He leaned back, not taking his eyes from the sprawling lights. “Somethin’ tells me you still are.”

I looked at him for a while, trying to wait him out and make him elaborate. But he didn’t. I resigned with a sigh.

“Yeah, well.” I mumbled. “Carolyn Crawford was a giant bitch.” His lips fought a losing battle against another smile.

“Personally, I’m still a little impressed she had the gall to slap you.”

“Haha. Hey- did you actually take that picture?”

He shook his head, hesitating before adding. “Dick did.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.” He chuckled.

“So I took the fall for both of you.”

“Yeah, you did, Princess.”

He had this familiar, juvenile grin stuck to his face. And for the first time in a long, long time, he was Jason Todd.

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

ack hello i'm requesting again because ur stuff is just chefs kiss. anyways, could i have a 🍰? i'm hero, i istp (i used to be intp but i took the test again and got istp) with a 5w4 ennegram. i'm a scorpio, and i'm 5'5 with dark brown hair (that kind of looks greenish sometimes because of a failed hair dying attempt) that is cut into that shaggy emo-eboy type of hairstyle. i use they/them pronouns btw. i have a sort of grunge/mall goth aesthetic, and my personality is kind of bitchy and cold, but when i'm around people i'm close to i can get pretty chaotic. i have a monster energy addiction and i literally don't sleep because i'm stupid 🤠. i like to skateboard, paint, write, watch anime, play video games, and just chill with my friends over discord. i'm a huge procrastinator, and i'm pretty good at school except for math (60% bitchesss). my favorite music artists are the arctic monkeys, the neighborhood, and corpse (agoraphobic is a fucking vibe). i'm pretty dumb, in a like "i have no common sense and will literally do anything if you tell me to" type of way, so my friends have a lot of photos of me doing stupid shit. i curse a lot and make dirty jokes, but if i have to get serious i will (most of the time). i call everyone bro, and i'm kind of awkward with physical touch, though i'm touch starved as fuck (perfect combo i know) LIKES (that i haven't already mentioned): the rain, 3am, noise cancelling earphones, extra polar ice gum, boba, discord, fruity chapsticks, cleanliness (if i get the motivation to clean i like it). DISLIKES: geometry, cold wind, people who say they "are not like other girls", eggplants, large crowds, going to school early, buses, rap music, overly positive people. i hope that's enough and thank you so much <3

Not me realizing i sent you a matchup request a while back while writing this...

Also WTF WE ARE LITERALLY THE SAME PERSON

I DEMAND WE BECOME FRIENDS LIKE RN

CW: a LOT of swearing (I’m sorry I got very hyped while writing this)

🍰 for @weeb-mp4

Romantic Matchup

Semi Eita

How yall met

He just saw you around school like all the time

And he really really liked your style

So one day he went up to you and was just like

Ayo Mamacita you cool as fuck when you free bbg ;)))

Jk

He just went up to you and was like

Hey your styles really cool

But you didn't answer him…

So he said it again

Still no answer

The poor boy was so confused

Had he done something to upset you?

But he's never even talked to you???

WHY WERE YOU IGNORING HIM?????

Then your friend came over and was like

Rude ass bitch that guy was talking to you

Turns out you had noise-canceling headphones on

You apologized to him and asked what he said

So he told you that he thought you were super cool and if your ever free to hang

You don't know why you agreed to hang out with a guy you just met

Bitch you gonna get kidnapped one day

But you accepted his offer

You guys decided to just go hang out at a nearby skate park

And it was such a simple hangout but yall had a BLAST

You had brought your speaker and asked him what music he wanted to listen to

Turns out yall like the same music!

And yall just skated around and talked a whole bunch

After that day you guys just hung out whenever you could

Honestly, there was never really a confession

People just assumed you were dating after a while

And when someone asked you both kinda just looked at each other and was like

Yeah. we are

What they love about you

He loves your overall VIBEEEEE

Like omg you're so chill

But so crazy

Super caring

But also low key a bitch

You're very smart

Yet you continue to do stupid shit

Your vibe is probably his favorite thing about you

Your style (duh)

It was literally the thing that drew him to you in the first place

Your style s like everything he wishes he could be

E-BOY SEMI SUPREMACY

100% has asked you to give him a makeover

He loves how your down for ANYTHING

He could be like hey you wanna go start a cult

And you'd just be like

Bold of you to assume I haven't started one yet 😐

Let's not get it twisted

This man loves EVERYTHING about you

These are just some of the MANY reasons why he loves you

Favorite things to do together

He loves to recreate the first time you both hung out

And he likes doing activities similar to that

Skating while blasting music

Driving while blasting music

Blasting music and singing along

Basically, anything where music involved

But he also loves having chill moments with you

Such as playing video games together

Or cuddling and watching anime

Random Hc

You got him addicted to monsters

You've created a MONSTER with MONSTERS

see what I did there

Most of your texting happens in the late hours of the night

Like get yo asses to bed smh

And most of your texting convos are about deep shit

Cause yk them late nights really get you thinking

If you're ever uncomfortable with him touching you

Just tell him

He respects you enough to respect any of your boundaries

Ok this next one very very random

But I love it

Hes fucking fabulous with that smudged eyeliner look

Astrology

Scorpio + Scorpio

Compatibility 82%

When emotional baggage is not a part of their everyday communication, the depth both of their minds have will be an incredible stimulus for each conversation they have.

No one can understand a Scorpio intellectually as much as another Scorpio.

Their topics can easily become dark, not because they both want to talk about depressing things, but because they understand each other in areas other people don’t want to deal with.

This is a good way for both of them to discover that they are not alone, and it can be healing for each partner for as long as emotional expectations are not involved.

If they work together and compete to advance to the same position or feel like they endanger each other’s status in any way, their contact can become truly unpleasant and turn to arguing, dismissal of anything said, or in one word – disrespect.

When they start a battle against each other, it cannot seem to stop, until one of them is beaten “dead” and there is nothing more that can be done for them to get back in the game.

If they see each other as adversaries, they will sting each other for victory, meaning they will do whatever it takes to win.

If they distance themselves from a situation, they might realize that none of them actually endangers the other.

To find mutual understanding, they need to lead separate lives and give each other enough room to do so.

Overall Aesthetic

90s Skater Bitchessss

Songs-

Daddy Issues (The Neighborhood)

Sweater Weather (The Neighborhood)

Oh Ana (Mother Mother)

505 (Arctic Monkeys)

[tevivinter]

"You’re baking cookies in the communal kitchen at 3 am and I’m angry but also really hungry and need someone to vent to, you conveniently solve all my problems" for Dorian x Marel?

part two of university au for @midnightprelude and @dadrunkwriting​! i’m afraid this deviated a little from the original prompt but i hope you like it! :D

The smell of freshly baked cookies is what drew Dorian towards the kitchen. That, and the curiosity to know who in their right mind wanted to bake at 3 am. He went downstairs quietly, his steps barely making any sound as he approached the communal kitchen - or so he thought.

“Who’s there?” Dorian stopped at the corridor for a moment, partially because he wasn’t expecting to be discovered so soon - but mostly because he recognized that voice. “You can come out already, Sera.” 

Well, that was something.

Dorian took the opportunity to step closer, leaning his left shoulder against the doorframe. His lips curled into a small smile when he spotted Marel sitting - or rather, slouching - on a stool, the upper half of his body almost lying over the nearest counter. “It seems we are prone to meet at late hours, Marel.”

They had met for the first time two weeks ago. Marel blinked, the surprise clear on his face as he stared back at Dorian. “Dorian. Hey.” He quickly straightened his posture, frowning. “What are you doing here?”

Dorian shrugged, his tone light as he checked his nails. “Oh, you know, just wandering aimlessly through the corridors. I heard some students believe these halls are haunted - all the more reason to scare freshmen around, don’t you think?”

Marel placed his phone on the counter before giving him a bored look. “So you basically can’t sleep,” he said, ignoring Dorian’s attempt to joke.

Someone is very grumpy tonight, Dorian thought. “To put it mildly, yes.” He stepped away from the doorframe and into the kitchen. “Mind if I join you for a moment?”

It was Marel’s turn to shrug. “No.” His gaze soon dropped to the floor, and Dorian was quick to notice that something was bothering him. Marel let out a tormented sigh after a moment of silence, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re probably wondering why I’m baking cookies at this hour.”

“Well, I would be lying if I said this wasn’t intriguing to say the least.” Dorian sat on another stool next to Marel’s, facing him as they talked.

“My sister is coming to visit me tomorrow,” Marel continued. “I wanted to buy her a gift or something but I didn’t have the time to do that. So...” He gestured vaguely towards the oven. “I’m doing these instead. It’s her favorite recipe but chances are I’m gonna fuck it up.” He rolled his eyes, voice heavy with frustration. “It will probably taste like shit.”

Dorian held his cheek as he listened, his arm resting over the counter. He didn’t know Marel had a sister until that very moment. Still, the fact that he was doing all of that just to surprise her was undeniably sweet. “Not much of a cook, are you?”

“Not really." Marel checked his phone for a second before glancing back at Dorian. "What about you?"

"I can cook a few things, but truth be told I'm better off tasting food and judging it." Dorian gave him a convinced smirk, gesturing vaguely with his free hand. "I would make a wonderful judge for those cooking reality shows, mind you."

Marel huffed a chuckle, feeling the corners of his mouth lift a little bit. There was something about Dorian that made him feel more at ease - maybe it was his sense of humor or his charming nature.

Or maybe it was his ability to look extremely handsome even at 3am. Marel glanced at Dorian's robes, the black fabric effortlessly hugging his skin with golden details on its sleeves and neck. Even his damned sleeping wear looked fancy, but this shouldn't even be a surprise at this point. Marel quickly glanced away to avoid being too obvious.

"Okay then." Marel hopped out of his stool to fetch a mitten. "Let's see what you think about these cookies."

Dorian raised a brow, his gaze following Marel as he went towards the oven. "You just said they are likely to taste like shit. Not exactly encouraging if you ask me," he said sarcastically.

"That was just me being realistic." Marel opened the oven and took the pan out of it with his gloved hand. Dorian couldn't help but take a peek, the sight of fresh chocolate dipped cookies making his stomach growl in protest. Marel shot him a look before putting the tray on the counter. "But it's okay if you don't want to do it."

Dorian could recognize a challenge anywhere, and that was definitely one. "Kaffas, hurry up and give them to me. You're speaking as if these cookies are radioactive."

"And you're speaking like someone who's dying of hunger," Marel teased.

"I'm not-" Dorian was about to protest when his stomach growled once again, this time even louder so that both of them could hear. He pinched the bridge of his nose impatiently, listening to the sound of Marel's chuckle from the other side of the kitchen. "Alright, fine. There's a chance I might be a little hungry," he admitted, stubbornness still ringing in his voice.

"You could have said that from the beginning." Marel picked a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with some cookies. Then he approached Dorian and handed it over to him. "Go on. Judge me," he challenged, leaning against the counter behind him.

Dorian glanced at the bowl's content and then back at Marel, taking in the sight of his golden eyes for a second. "If you insist." He fetched one cookie with the tips of his fingers, holding it mid-air to have a better look - although his attention quickly went back to Marel. “Looks appealing in an austere kind of way. I happen to fancy the sight quite a lot.”

Marel frowned. “Are you joking? They look ordinary at best,” he said, fully aware of the cookies’ average appearance.

“They do, yes.” Dorian agreed, his amused smile reaching his eyes. “But I wasn’t talking about the cookies.”

“Then why-” Marel was about to complain when he suddenly connected the dots. For fuck’s sake, Dorian was talking about him. Marel stared at the man with a dumbfounded expression, his face blushing furiously under his silvery gaze. He crossed his arms in hopes of looking less like an idiot. “Right. Guess I should have specified,” he mumbled, awkwardly glancing at the floor while Dorian ate.

“The cookies are good,” Dorian said after a short moment of silence, placing the bowl on the counter and pushing it lightly towards Marel. “You shouldn’t worry about it. Why don’t you have some?”

Marel spotted the movement with the corner of his eyes. Just knowing that he didn’t screw things up was enough to lift the weight off his shoulders. “I’m not really into chocolate,” he shrugged. “That’s why I wanted your opinion.” Only then Marel noticed that the bowl was still almost full. He frowned. “Aren’t you going to eat the rest of it?”

Dorian shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but these are meant for your sister. It’s best if you keep them.”

Marel rolled his eyes. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I still got a pan full of cookies. Trust me, no one’s eating all of that.” He uncrossed his arms and returned the bowl to Dorian, taking a few steps towards him to do so. “Besides, your stomach was growling like an ogre. No use denying it.”

Dorian groaned with the last comment. “Your kind words are truly impressive,” he said sarcastically before starting to eat another cookie. “But thank you.”

“No problem.” Marel crossed the kitchen to grab the pan. Dorian watched as he moved each cookie into the same large pot, taking care not to damage them or something. It was honestly cute to see him so focused in that task - Dorian couldn’t force himself to look away. After all, he did mean it when he said that Marel was good looking. He was tall, at least 6’2 by the looks of it, with broad shoulders and an athletic build. Dorian soon found himself to be distracted by Marel’s toned arms, his mind distantly wondering about the origin of all those scars.

“So what made you come here at this hour?” Marel asked, still too focused to even notice Dorian staring at him. “And don’t say you’re out to scare freshmen,” he added.

“And here I thought I had a perfectly convincing answer,” Dorian joked. Still, his smile was short lived despite his attempt of humor. He held back a sigh, holding a half-bitten cookie in the air. “I had an argument with my mother. Nothing out of ordinary at this point, truly.”

Marel let out a breathless laugh, his tone bitter. “Guess we’re not so different then.” He looked at Dorian once the cookie pot was completely filled. “Wanna talk about it? I’m bored and I still need to wash this mess, so...”

As tempting as that could be, Dorian didn’t want to burden Marel with his problems. It was too late for any of that. “Perhaps another time.” He stood up from the stool, bringing the now empty bowl with him as he approached the kitchen sink. “Shall we talk about your meeting with your sister instead? I can help you with the dishes in the meantime,” Dorian offered.

Marel surely wasn’t expecting to hear that, but he certainly wouldn’t complain about receiving help. “Sure.” He took one step aside so that Dorian could use the other side of the sink.

And so they chatted for a while, finding the night to be less shitty than before.

[braindeadforiwa]

Pizza and Wine

synposis :  in which Teru finds out that he isn't even on your radar. Maybe he should be content with what he's already got. Maybe he can live with just being friends. based on a prompt from this post.

pairing : terushima yuuji x reader

WC : 1371

The pouring rain was a constant rush of sound behind Terushima.  The old yellow sweatshirt he wore was soaked through, and his black joggers were in the same sorry state. By far the worst thing though was the wet socks.  The squelch he felt with every step he'd taken made him want to crawl out of his skin.

The things I do for a friend in need, Terushima thought to himself.  Ultimately he didn't really give a damn about the wet clothes.  He was more concerned about you and your emotional state.

You'd been more or less ignoring his texts since yesterday.  And he'd only bothered calling twice, but you immediately rejected those calls.  Normally he would have let you be.  After all, maybe you were just busy.

But call it a gut feeling, intuition about a close friend, or the fact the tone of your texts had changed -- Teru felt that he should go check on you regardless of your disinterest in speaking to him. 

And that's why he now stood on your doorstep, box of pizza in one hand, bottle of wine in the other.  Terushima kicked on your door again.

"I didn't get drenched walking to your apartment for you to say no to pizza," Terushima called through the closed door.  "I have wine too."

Teru waited a beat longer before saying, "C'mon, I know you're sad so let me in, _____."

Just when Terushima was about to resign himself to eating pizza alone on the concrete floor, your door opened.

Well he was certainly right to have been worried.  Even with the poor outdoor lighting Terushima could tell your eyes were red and puffy.

"Bro...you look like shit." Tact was certainly not Teru's strong suit.  "Nothing a little food and wine can't help though."

You moved out of the way, and Teru strolled into your apartment.  The place may as well have been Teru's second home.  He was over to often that you'd given him a drawer for his spare clothes and toiletries.  You'd reasoned it would be better then having to find him a ride home if both of you were drunk, not to mention most days he came over he'd be there until at least 3am.

The two of you met in college during your first semester, and for the past five years you hadn't left each others' sides.  Most people often weren't convinced that you and Teru were only friends though.  Which, understandable to a certain extent.  Both you and Teru realized that people weren't convinced two people could be so close and not be dating.  The intimacy you guys shared rivaled a handful of the relationships you'd witnessed in college. 

That's not to say the idea of dating you had never crossed Teru's mind.  Over the years, Teru had found himself wondering what it'd be like to date you.  He imagined it wouldn't be a whole lot different than what you had now.  Really the only difference he could think of was that he'd be able to kiss you.  And kissing you certainly wasn't any sort of con in his book.

"Go get changed." Your voice carried the exhaustion he could lining your shoulders.  "I'll get the food and stuff ready."

"Thanks," Teru said, ruffling your hair.

After drying off and changing, Terushima met you in the kitchen, a towel around his neck.  You'd gotten glasses for the wine and had already started munching on a slice of pizza.

"So what happened?" Teru asked.  He hopped onto the counter and you turned to face him.  God, how much had you been crying?  Face masks were definitely in your shared future.

"Always right for the throat with you."

"Well it's gonna suck talking about it no matter what, right?" When you didn't say anything Teru conceded.  "But I guess I can let you get a glass or two of wine in your system first."

And for the next couple hours Teru did what he did best: he distracted you.  He talked about his friends and a couple wild nights, he updated you on his family, and told you about some new clients he'd gotten this week. He got you talking about a new show you were both excited for and the newest chapter for a manga you both read. He'd even managed to get you to laugh a couple times.

At some point while reminiscing about college, you ended up doing face masks, and now you found yourself sat in front of the television.  You were planted between Teru's legs on the floor as he combed through your hair and played with it.

As the conversation lulled and the movie continued on screen, Teru spoke up, his voice a little more gentle than usual.  "So you wanna tell me what happened now?"

A beat, and then, "Maya broke up with me."

The pause of Teru's hand in your hair was the only form of shock he showed.  Not because he expected it, but because he knew you didn't like people getting too riled up on your behalf.  It drew too much attention to what you were feeling.  "She say why?" he asked.

"Found someone up where she is," you said.  The life had started fading out of you again.  "Guess she got tired of the long distance thing."

Teru clenched his jaw.  For the five years he'd known you, you'd dated Maya for four of them.  Hell, things had always been going so well between you two that Teru assumed you and Maya would just get married.  Even you had mentioned the possibility of marriage to Teru before. 

"When'd things start going bad?" Teru asked.

"Couple months after she moved," you said.  "Video calls just weren't cutting it anymore.  I mean, why settle for that when you find someone you could be happy with that's also in the same city? At least that's what she said on the phone."

You let out a sigh, your body sagging.  "I don't blame her though," you whispered.  "I understand where she was coming from.  Honestly....I hadn't been dong too well with the long distance thing either.  But I'm still sad, you know? And frustrated.  Like, so much time and effort is just gone now.  Plus she at least has someone new.  Meanwhile I'm just alone." You let your head fall to Teru's knee.

Though he could tell how taxing the conversation was on you, Teru was thankful to see that it seemed to be helping you.  Getting your thoughts out of your head helped you work through things.  It's something he'd noticed over the last few years.  It helped you to slowly work your way back to yourself.  And even though he knew you had a ways to go with properly healing, you were at least taking a step.

"Well, I may not be new but you still got me so you aren't actually alone." Teru grinned.

"I meant romantically, dumbass.  Romantically I'm alone."

The grin faded from Teru's face.  "I can be romantic."

"Teru, I love you, but you kinda suck at relationships," you said, turning to look at him.  "You get spooked any time you think someone might be into you and then either distance yourself or completely ghost them."

Teru was quiet.  You weren't wrong; he did get scared at the idea of being in a relationship.  It wasn't a characteristic he often consciously thought about, but yeah...you were right.  The idea of being emotionally intimate with people freaked him out when he knew that romantic feelings were involved.  But...you already knew so much about him.  You two had bared pieces of your souls to one another on multiple occasions.  You knew more about him then anyone else probably did and you accepted every part of him.  If it were you...well he didn't think he'd be as scared.  If it were you he'd be willing to give it a shot.

But it seems for you that wasn't even an option.

His voice was full of faked nonchalance as he said, "Well, If you ever change your mind you know where to find me."

"Sure," you chuckled as you turned back to face the TV.  "I'll keep it in mind."

[wurdulac]

i’ve been lying awake at 3am last night thinking about orfea. so here’s more stuff about her:

assigned portent of doom at birth

temple was the first place where she was accepted but it was a very conditional acceptance. like her existence in its entirety was to be cut and formed into a neat function and hidden away from the vastness of life beyond it

she saw a horned skull of her predecessor in the ossuarium and didn’t like what it meant for her future

for a long time after leaving the temple and after taking part in a rebellion she was travelling the countryside collecting stories and songs about some very local events and legends

almost all of her stories she likes to tell people are about some fucked up shit

she performs proper funerary rites (i almost wrote that she buries the dead but it’s not an universal thing lol) for the unclaimed dead like social outcasts, criminals etc.

uses the three summoned skeletons in her musical performances

she generally thinks that because of her appearance being perceived as.... neutral or ‘normal’ is beyond reach so she doesn’t really care for trying to 100% act in a socially acceptable way. no matter how she would try to behave she would be that strange woman with huge horns and no face. she will always draw attention. there’s no point in trying to be inoffensive or placating. so she entertains instead.

(comtessa had her sing and play the fiddle and she would look so content with her eyes closed while listening)

there’s some tension between not caring and acquiescing... while the performance is for her amusement it might have started as a way to defend herself by dazzling people and treating them as an audience so they don’t throw rocks at her on the spot

she also usually ignores pleasantries and speaks her mind. or non sequiturs. depending on the social circle she’s in she sometimes gets away with it because ah look at this funney morbid peasant =)

and maybe there’s also some belief that there’s no point in winning over people because they will hate her anyway. might as well just not think about it too hard and just have a laugh.

and to strive for something beyond...

but she also never really had close friends so the whole thing about bonds and relationships is kinda alien and incomprehensible... not entirely but largely

while she’s rather emotionally closed off from people she also has a lot of love? and care for beings that are discarded by everyone else

(she doesn’t really have her own place. she’s between the cracks of the pavement where she planted flowers. she’s in the bones she left for stray dogs to gnaw on. she is in the evening air carrying her song)

she’s not really disturbed by things that would be commonly perceived as gross, like sight of decaying remains, wael’s body, retina, a self-perpetuating engine of nightmares

once she reached the republics she gained some notoriety for being the only death godlike singer in town. who also does a little skeleton dance. 

while there, she was once courted by a poet who was obsessed with death. she started sendind her poems that were all about dying at orfea’s hand. unfortunately it wasn’t a metaphor. things got kinda uncomfortable.

another time a rich guy proposed to her in order to make her his only heir instead of his relatives. she liked the idea because 1) money and 2) marrying a godlike sounds illegal in the republics so of course she’d do it. anyway she publicly inuslted his sister who then demanded they duel and orfea just drew her pistol instead and shot off her finger. no, they didn’t marry and it was orfea who called off the engagement.

[emile-hides]

Out of Australia, into the fire

Based on an in game RP with @aripan12 and @syalin-deerfox (Original prompt from Two Junkers and a D.Va which can be read here)

Edit: Both Ari and Zayne wrote their own versions of this promt as well.

If you want heavy Roadrat, read Zayne’s version HERE

If you want an almost exact one-to-one of the actual roleplay + Bloopers read Ari’s version HERE

Now, on to my take:

In which Roadhog impulsively cares for a war child

Mako “Roadhog” Rutledge huffed as he looked over his empty fridge shelves for the third time in the last hour. No matter how many glances he spared, the ice box remained empty.

The large man gave another huff as he closed the fridge door, lifting himself up straight before heading out of the large barn he called a home. 

“Rat.” He spoke in the general direction of a small, one room trailer.

Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes poked his head out of one of the three holes in the small buildings walls, two of which he swore were made for better lighting. The third of which was an accident.

“Hoggie! Just in time I was about to test-”

“We’re out of food. I’m heading into Junker town. Stay here.” Roadhog cut his boss off, already starting the slow walk to the scrap city.

“Whot??? Wait, mate, lemme come too! I need some shit and-” Both the junker’s momentum from leaping out of his work shed and sentence were cut off by a large hand easily catching him by the tire on his back.

“Stay.” Mako said flatly, setting the smaller back down in his work station.

Junkrat whined and swayed like a blade of grass in the wind, “But Roooooooadie”

His complaints weren’t met with a response as the older Junker again began to walk away, leaving Junkrat unsupervised.

______ ______ ______ ______

The large door of Junkertown was just as locked as it was the last time Mako approached. He’d always hated how hard the queen tried to make the pile of scrap seem like a real city. It wasn’t. It never would be.

“Let me in already!” A squeaky voice thick with an accent not native to the island screeched along side the banging of metal, “Please!! I just need to get home!”

Mako paused for a moment at the small girl standing at Junkertown’s door, banging away and begging for entry. Her clothes were bright pink, a color Mako hadn’t seen in a long time, and seemed almost completely clean. Her hair was long and shiny, almost freshly washed. She was small, thin, but healthy. As if all of this wasn’t enough, the sound of her voice made it absolutely, positively clear she was not a native to the savage wastelands of Australia.

Still. She was in the way.

Roadhog threw his hook, safely wrapping it around the girls waste to pull her away from the door. She yelped, and stumbled by his side before fear ran cold across her face. Mako spared her a glance before knocking at the Junkertown door three times with his hook.

“Rutledge?” The guard of the door spat from his lookout point, “You sure are brave to be showin’ your masked face around here again mate. Better now be armed, we got orders to shoot you on sight.”

These threats meant nothing to Roadhog. He simply waited for the gate to open silently before he strolled in, latching his hook to his belt.

“W...Wait!” The girl from before shouted once she finally snapped from her fear induced daze, quickly chasing after the lumbering man.

Mako, again, barely spared the girl a glance, though slowed down slightly to allow her to walk along side him, hoping to block her bright outfit from the onlooking eye of the local thugs.

“M-My name is Hana Song. I was kidnapped from Busan, South Korea, and dropped here. I-I’m not sure where here... is... D-Do you have a phone I could barrow? Please?” She asked, gripping the bottom of her shirt in desperation.

Roadhog glanced at the local shops before walking into an old convenient store, now with nothing more than rusted canned items and whatever animal was found in rummaging in the trash that morning.

“N...No?” Hana half whimpered, continuing to follow him. She watched his movements was they wandered the mostly empty lanes before starting again, “I-I can pay for the distance call! I-I c-can pay reward money! S-Something for your trouble, please! M-My team- M-My country needs me! I-I can pay-”

Mako handed the girl a can of corn. She stared at it, then glanced up at him, clearly confused as she took it.

Luckily, the confusion was enough to shut her up on the money nonsense as the finished shopping. It wasn’t a lot, but it’d be enough for a last meal on this irradiated rock.

On the way out of Junker town, Hana piped up again, “Does... th-this mean you’re going to help me...?” She asked meekly.

A large hand gently pat at Hana’s hair as they stepped out of the scrap city of Junkertown. Hana flinched for a moment at the contact, only realizing at the third pat it was meant to be comforting.

She smiled, “Thankyou.” slipped from her mouth barely above a whisper as they walked away from Junkertown.

______ ______ ______ ______

“Roadie! You’re finally back, what’d ya get I’m STARVIN’!” Junkrat came bounding from his shed as soon as Roadhog came into view.

The larger Junker didn’t acknowledge the smaller as he simply continued to the barn. Junkrat did the same to Hana, who followed the two closely.

“So! While you were gone I was thinkin’ of ways to get back at the queen and I’ve finally got the perfect plan! Wanna hear it?? Of course you do! So-” 

“This is Hana.” Mako spoke up, cutting the smaller off as he drew his attention to Hana Song, “We’re taking her to South Korea.”

Junkrat blinked down at the bring pink stick before him. He stared, unblinking, for almost a solid two minutes.

“South Kor-ee-a?” He repeated, incredibly incorrect of course, “Where in the bloody blue blazes is that?”

“Far.” Mako spoke bluntly, putting his assorts groceries on his make-shift table for now, “Pack what you need. We’re leaving tonight.”

“T-Tonight? Mate what- Don’t you walk away from me!” Junkrat snapped as Roadhog began to leave the barn.

Mako glanced back at Hana, standing awkwardly in the center of the room, “Stay.” He spoke, then continued out, Junkrat shouting behind him.

______ ______ ______ ______

“What about our plans to get back at the queen?! What about our 50/50 split treasure? You wanna just lug that with us?!” Junkrat huffed and hollered all the way back to Junkertown.

Mako continued to ignore him, making sure the smaller was behind him when they approached the gate, easly hiding Junkrat behind his larger form.

“Twice in one day, Rutledge? Ya forget somethin’?” The guardsman laughed as the gate opened.

“I’ve never even heard of no South Kor-ee-a! What makes ya so sure it’s even a real place and that shiela ain’t just one of the queen’s goons sent to whack us, huh?! Ya even left her alone in our place!”

“Mako? Well this is a surprise?” Junkrat’s complaints cut off with the introduction of a new voice, raspy and weary with age. He’d been ranting so long, Junkrat hadn’t even noticed he and Mako walked into one of Junkertown’s many scrap shops.

“Here for the usual?” A short, chubby man with a scruffy white beard asked, taking a large cigar from his mouth.

“I need a boat. With a moter, and enough oil to get it to Asia.” Mako spoke.

“A boat?” The short scrapper asked, scratching his chin, “That’s a tall order. The Queen ain’t very fond of boats she don’t own.”

Junkrat sized up the man before them, rationalizing if he was going to give Roadhog a hard time, and if he’d have to step in to get whatever Roadie was after.

“The moter’s the easy part, I’ve been working on one myself...” The man gave a gentle kick to a scrapped together engine he’d been working on when they walked in, “The fuel I’ve almost got too, but the actual boat...”

“Please, Bruce.” The word was so foreign, Mako certainly hadn’t used it in over 20 years, and he’d doubt the younger generation in this country even knew what the word means.

Bruce paused, giving another scratch to his chin... A deep sigh left his mouth, “Alright. I’ll get something together and have it at Lagoon Pier by 3am tonight.”

Roadhog gruffed a thankyou, placed a hand on Junkrat’s head, and lead him from the shop, back to Junkertown’s gate.

“...We’re really leavin’?” Junkrat asked as they left the scrapped together city he one called home, “Are we... gonna come back?”

Roadhog didn’t speak. He stared ahead blankly at the wasteland he created, a hand resting on Junkrat’s head.

They walked home in silence.

______ ______ ______ ______

The short, hastily put together plan was explained to Hana by Junkrat over a scrapped together final meal. They then packed up anything essential into Roadhog’s bike, and headed out across the country.

Hana had long sense passed out in the side car, tightly hugging Mako’s pachimari doll as she rested. Junkrat has also, supposedly, passed out behind Roadhog on the bike.

As the two slept, Mako took a moment to park along side a cliff and stare out at the desert.

He thought about how 20 or so years ago, this place was just like the world Hana had described to them. How he’d spend his days playing video games on his phone just like her, or how he could spend hours weaving brightly colored flowers into crowns.

20 years ago they were just like every other place in the world.

What... happened?

Mako’s grip on his handle bars tightened.

ALF happened.

HE happened.

For a moment, Mako considered turning around. Driving back to his scrapped old barn on his wasted little farm with the small grave marked only with a dusty little bolder and a few dead flowers.

It wouldn’t be fair for him to leave. He broke the world, he deserves to rot in it. He deserves to sit on this little irradiated rock and slowly die of whatever the world wants to throw at him.

“Roadie..?” A yawn broke Roadhog of his thoughts as Junkrat lifted himself up some, hanging over the larger man’s shoulder, “Why’d we stop? Ya gotta piss?” The younger Junker rubbed at his eye, nuzzling into Mako’s neck from grogginess.

Roadhog released his grip on his handle bars. For a moment his mind wondered where Jamie could be had the Omnium not exploded.

Would he be a child soldier, like Hana? Willing to give his life for a county so quick to throw away it’s citizens? Fighting a war at such a young age...

“Roadie?” Junkrat asked, a bit more awake, “Ya alright? Ya got that sad look on yer face...”

Roadhog glanced to Junkrat. The smaller look concerned.

Mako squished Jamie’s cheeks in his hand, “Sit down. I can’t drive with you standin’ up like that.” He scolded. Jamison whined in his hold, patting weakly at Mako’s shoulders until he was released, allowing him to fall back onto his seat.

Roadhog chuckled before starting the bike again. There’s no point in turning back.

He hadn’t destroyed the world.

At least

Not yet.

[gumnut-logic]

Let me introduce you to my poison dart froggy :D Officially he is a Phantasmal Poison Dart Frog.

I drew this guy as my first exploration into Derwent Inktense pencils back in February 2012. He was just a practise sketch I had no intention of selling and I kept him. He currently sits in my loungeroom. As I am and always will be an avid blogger of my art and writing, here is the blog entry for this piece of artwork.

I’ve been watching the recent art theft in this fandom with sadness ::hugs to all of you who have been affected:: Many thanks to those of you who have stuck up for us all and gone into battle for us. I hate conflict, I’m crap at it, and to be honest at this point I’m rather jaded.

Why?

This guy has been with me for quite some time and he is a good example to work with because frogs are popular and I know exactly where the original currently sits. All of the images of this artwork come directly from whatever I put online. Froggy has been posted to social media, in particular Pinterest and he has been around for eight years.

Every now and then, I check on this guy in Google, to see who has appropriated him now. Because yes, he gets stolen all the time. He’s pretty, he’s vibrant and no one really gives a shit who owns him, they just steal him.

So prompted by our group’s recent issues, I thought I’d have another look.

I really shouldn’t have.

Look at this adorably awful piece of graphic design. But do you know what is worse? It is a book for sale on Amazon. ::waves at author:: Hi, I’m your cover artist, thanks for letting me know. Look there is my signature in the bottom right corner, my little stylised Gumnut.

Of course, this is one of the worst and I’m toying with the idea of actually raising a ruckus, but there are always the other sites who love to run off with my stuff.

Blacktown Youth College

Oooh, look, someone threw him onto a Pokemon card

Randomly slapped up on Quora

Oooh, look, he’s now a video star (he appears at 13.11, but he also gets to be on the front cover

Here he is helping to actually sell dart frogs - and this guy steals artwork from everyone.

Now he is helping to teach Hindi

Aaargh, and there are so many more. He is all over the web and none of them link back to my desperately poor little self.

Why am I babbling about this? It sucks. It really, really sucks. I dread to look up my more recent artwork and to be honest, I have much better things to do with my time. With an online culture that just assumes it has the right to anything and everything it finds online, both the artistic and photographic communities take a massive hit. There is no appreciation for the work that has gone into a piece, no recognistion of ownership, much less credit.

Am I going to stop arting because of this?

No.

Why should I ruin my life because of them? Why should my fun be spoiled?

Can I stop them?

No.

People are going to do it anyway. Most of them don’t make any money off it, most of them are just ignorant. The book author, now that I might chase up. She’s making money off my stuff.

It royally sucks. I have no money. I’m not some big mega corporation with lots of lawyers and yes, they are royally shafting me. And most of all, I don’t have time to chase up every single piece of art I have ever created, I have better things to do with my life.

So what can you do to prevent this from happening to your artwork?

Sign your work, in a difficult position for it to be removed. Not like I did with my little gumnut above. But be aware, if anyone is really determined to break the law, they will. Photoshop is a thing. Heh, in some of my artwork I actually included my website address www.gumnut.net

Only upload smaller image files. I used to stick with around 700px. This is still printable, but only at small sizes. I don’t tend to go smaller because I like to have my art looking nice on my website.

Watermarks - I hate them, they ruin the artwork, but they are an option if you really want to use them. An appropriately placed signature may do a better job.

You can search for your images like I do using Google.

Go to your image on your website or blog and right click to get the image address. It might be easier to first open the image in a new tab all by itself, then get its address. The address should end in an image format like jpeg, jpg, png or gif.

Go to http://www.google.com and paste the image address into the search bar.

When the results list comes up you will also see an option at the top of the list ‘Search by image’. Click on it.

It will give you three search types as a result.Scroll down the page to see all three search types.

The first one at the top will have a thumbnail of your image and will offer image sizes. Click on All Sizes to bring up a list of images across the web.

The second search is visually similar images which can be interesting, but is not as useful for what we are trying to do.

The third search, if you scroll down further lists ‘Pages that include matching images’. This is where you will find interesting stuff and where I found all those links above.

These searches rely on Google finding the images. if your image was posted yesterday, you are unlikely to find anything. But then if you are lucky then you won’t find anything anyway. I just checked a dragon painting of mine and the only images on the web are mine, yay! (And incidentatlly, Small Change Dragon was sold and currently resides in the UK :D)

But anyway, this rabble, whatever it is, cos I woke up at 3am with this on my brain and it is now 5.45am, please don’t let these people ruin it for you. It’s sad, its wrong and it sucks, but please don’t stop arting because of it. If I did, I wouldn’t have any of the art or writing I have today. Are people still taking advantage of me, yes, can I do much about it, no, but why should a few a-holes ruin it for everyone else? Sure, we can deny the world our talents, and they won’t get our stuff. But then no one else will either.

Do I adore my fellow fans’ fanworks and fanfiction? God, yes! Please don’t stop creating because of a few nasty people. Don’t let them ruin it.

::lots and lots of hugs::

Nutty

(who loves this fandom like crazy)

[rovvboat]

Painted Flaws - Colossus/Piotr Rasputin x villian!Reader

Part 12

A/N: send an ask if you wanna be added to the taglist! Lmk how you feel about this series!

Summary: You’re a villian with a moral grey area. You meet Piotr at an art exhibit, but both of you are there for completely different reasons. Though the attraction was inevitable, will it be enough? A growing passionate love wrought with secrecy, both of you try to move through this maze. But when the ball drops, what will you choose?

word count: 2k

The X-Jet roars over the Lazarus Headquarters – a large metallic building coasting over the side of a preserved mountain range.

NTW leans forward from her seat next to Colossus – as he pilots the X-Jet – and peers over the front glass panel. But before she can say anything, she feels a Deadpool looming over her shoulder.

‘’Wow. Don’t think they have any parking available,’’ Deadpool quips, leaning with a casual arm draped over the top of her seat. 

Cable rolls his eyes from his seat.

‘’Wade, please get back and strap yourself on to seat for your own safety,’’ Colossus calmly instructs, eyes never leaving the sight in front of him.

‘’I’d like a different kind of strap, tinman – but that’s only after you buy me dinner. Also, don’t you for a second think I wouldn’t try to fit a cockpit joke in there, because I just want you to know th– ’’

Deadpool’s sentence was cut off as the cabin jerked to the side from a disturbance, sending him hurtling and falling flat against the side of the cabin.

As he rubs the sore part of his head, he notices Colossus snickering from his seat – ‘’You fucking did that on purpose!’’

‘’It is cloudy day. Turbulence was inevitable, Wade. I told you to wear belt.’’

Cable titters as he looks ahead at Colossus, ‘’Didn’t know you had it in you, Colossus. Good job.’’

NTW laughs heartily at the sight, ‘’That’s some good karma. And anyway, before I was interrupted by doucheface, I think this HQ was probably designed to only be accessible to helicopters. Colossus, you might have to let us off and land somewhere nearby.’’

‘’Yes, very good observation NTW. Soon enough, you too can be Pilot of X-Jet. There was an airbase that I saw not too far from here. I will be there. Please radio me if you need extraction,’’ Colossus directs the team as he adjusts his headset. He flicks the tab on the panel of controls in front of him, releasing the jet’s back door from its’ closed position.

Deadpool cracks his knuckles – and then does the same to his neck – in a showy fashion.

‘’It’s go time, muchachos.’’

‘’Wade! Please wear a para–‘’

And as in Deadpool fashion, he lets himself fall backwards – hurtling down to the Earth without a parachute.

Cable sighs, grabbing an extra parachute from the racks – ‘’I’ll take care of that.’’ – as he makes his jump off the end of the platform.

There was someone waiting to meet them at the landing area, as Cable and Deadpool make their contact to ground. Cable held his face in a disgruntled deadpan look, as Deadpool hung onto his torso with arms and legs wrapped around him.

‘’Are you done?’’

‘’What? I couldn’t get the parachute on.’’

‘’If you don’t get off of me in the next 5 seconds – ‘’ Cable mutters with a low voice, his hand motioning to grab his submachine gun.

‘’Alright! Alright! I’m off now!’’ Deadpool remits as he climbs off of Cable, laboriously slowly.

The person waiting on the landing grounds had been observing the whole tirade, with an incredulous look on their face. Cable ignores the moments of before and gets right to it.

‘’You got what we need?’’

‘’Yeah. I’m sticking my neck out for you. But I don’t give a shit about either the fucking bitch or the boss she works for.’’

A flash of recognition blights Cable’s TO eye.

’’I remember you. You’re the shitface that shot Colossus in the back. The prick from the helicopter.’’

The man chuffs. But Cable’s stare bears into him, cracking his knuckles as he does.

‘’I have some choice words for you, but I won’t count on me using my words.’’ – NTW holds a cautionary arm in front of Cable – and he lets off.

The man remains slack, and holds out the drive between his thumb and index finger.

‘’Everything you need to know is in this thumb drive. Address and real names are encrypted data – but it should be easy enough for you to decode that on your own,’’ the man eyes Cable intensely and before – as Cable reached out to take the drive – in one swift move, flicked the drive and caught it in a fist.

‘’But I need something from you first.’’

NTW walks ahead, just ahead of Cable.

‘’We’re listening.’’

‘’I want out. New name, location, papers. For me and my family. I want to be untraceable within the next 2 days.’’

‘’That should be easy enough. If you aren’t stupid.’’

The man scoffs – ‘’Yeah, and if you aren’t stupid, you wouldn’t antagonize that only lead you’ve had in months. Talk about stupid.’’

NTW rolls her eyes, and Cable steps forward to bring a satisfactory end to the negotiations.

‘’Alright. I’m sure we could arrange for that. Now,’’ he holds his arm out for the drive.

The man seemed to hold back at first, but quickly dropped the drive onto Cable’s open palm.

‘’We will send you your new papers once we’re done. You’re in good hands.’’

The man scoffs again. ‘’I don’t believe in there ever being a good side. You fight only for your own interests. You wouldn’t even be here if not for the information that I got for you.’’

Deadpool yawns and stretches dispassionately, ‘’Yeah, yeah. You’re a hack, we get it. We’ll see you next week, champ.’’

The team turns back, with NTW radioing for Colossus to pick them up.

***

Your phone buzzes with messages from Piotr; asking about your day, if you’ve eaten, if you’re busy. With the amount of time the man sets aside to check up on you, you never would have guessed he was an X-Man.

His replies don’t always come quickly though – sometimes it takes him ages, and he always apologises for it (no matter how much you’ve tried to reassure him that you understood); but it kept in line with his previously claims of being a firefighter.

You grab your phone off the table, hurriedly setting your phone on mute.

You shift your focus back to your computer; eyes still stinging from the hours spent trying to book flights and layovers for D.K.

It would’ve been much easier if you were just booking flights though.

You had hired a few bodyguards (you’ve previously met many of them from working in the field, but few you knew you could absolutely trust) – and they were to help D.K. through his trip and make sure he was safe. Though they all had the condition that they would operate from a distance.

None of them were willing to fend off against your Boss if it meant putting their lives and livelihoods in jeopardy – and you understood that for the most part.

You close your eyes for a minute, letting yourself rest from the demands of the world.

As you lay back against the couch, you envision your sleepy mornings with Piotr – oh how you wished you could be there now; with you starfished on top of him – sometimes clothed, most times not – as his fingers drew slow blissful lines over your back, before running reassuring strokes with slow, long strides of his calloused palms.

Calloused palms which you grew to love, because they were his.

When you looked up at him from your position, he would never fail to give you a smile – with sweet, supple lips that would tell you ‘’I love you’’ a million times if you asked – and would kiss you instead if you didn’t.

Kisses you could never get enough of, because they were his.

The way he would nestle against your neck – strong arms curled up over you – snug and tight and warm against his loving chest

– especially on the nights that were quiet – as if to tell you that he’d hold you close, even if he didn’t need to;

Because he was yours.

You’re jolted back to your empty living room, and into the silent whirring of your laptop.

You push all those thoughts to the back of your mind, as began you typing away on your laptop.

The hours rolled by, uninterrupted – when a sudden urgent knocking sounds at your door.

Your face turned quizzical.

That’s odd… I’m not expecting anyone.

You quickly head over to your room and grab your electric baton.

When you reach your door, you try to put an eye onto the peep hole, but the person on the other end starts knocking aggressively again, making you flinch back. You press your face over the keyhole, and look for who was outside your door so late.

When you realise who it was, you breathe a shaky breath of relief, but your heart rate only picks up from there. Your hands move swiftly to unlock the door and greet your visitor.

‘’Piotr? It’s 3am… What are you doing here so late?’’

‘’I’m sorry, Y/N. You were not responding to your calls… and I grew concerned. I was coming back from work, and thought I could check up on you.’’

Your heart was both elated, and sinking at the same time. You try not to make eye contact with him for too long. Whenever you did, you felt as if he could see right through you.

‘’Yeah, I was just… busy. I was going to call you back.’’

‘’Okay… May I come in?’’

You hesitate, and the uncomfortable look on your face stings at Piotr.

‘’It’s not that I don’t want you here, Piotr – its just that… I’m working on a case right now with a client over the phone. It wouldn’t be professional, and I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.’’

‘’I.. Yes, I understand, myshka…’’ he rubs his neck, trying to hide his embarrassment, ‘’I’m sorry for having interrupted your work… I will wait for when you are free next time.’’

It took all you had to not just pull him closer to you – to show him that he was loved and needed and wanted around.

But the jury doesn’t call for that.

You bite your lip, ‘’okay, get home safely, Piotr.’’

He gives you an awkward nod, before walking away from your door as it shut.

***

The room sits still, waiting for you to make a move as you stand leaning against your bedroom door. Your breathing becomes jagged and heavy as your heart thuds against your chest, and as you do, there's the wetness that escapes your eyes – demanding to burn down your hot cheeks.

You sniff the layers of unease away from your nose, as serious as you can.

Get your priorities straight, Y/N!

There was an ache and an anger and torment brewing in the pit of your stomach, rising and rising as your chest heaved in frustration.

You turn around to bring a closed, fist hard against the door, pounding out your frustrations – hard and unflinching – with gritted teeth as your stinging tears forced your eyes shut.

You wanted to scream. You wanted a release. And you did.

Your groans and sobbing would go unnoticed everyone outside – with the house covered roof to floor with every kind of proofing you could think of;

and in that you found a delinquent sense of security – in the same place you also found the lonely pit sprouting in your chest.

It felt like a daze.

Every person you’ve ever met, taken – lost – killed.

Left.

And those whom you’ve grown to love, were never allowed to be a permanent part of your life.

Your legs grew weak, the hours and thoughts sapping what little energy they had from their muscles – as you lower yourself down, sitting with your back against the door.

There isn’t much left for me. The sooner I let this go, the better for everyone involved.

You head to the bathroom, rinsing your face off – then drying it off with a towel. You face yourself in the mirror; eyes red and swollen.

You abandon the face in the mirror – striding over to your study room, grabbing a pen and paper;

And in that page, you let yourself be free.

You let yourself be seen.

—————————————————————————-

Taglist!

@emma-frxst @chromecutie @fluffymadamina @master-sass-blast@marvelhead17 @onthequill @candle-light-writings @mooleche @starman-thorsus-canos-jock @super-darkcloudstudent

[brianmayoucease]

Never Felt More Alive ( Daniel PL 600 x Reader NSFW )

mega tanks: YO HOLY SHIZA WE HIT 100 FOLLOWERS! Y’all deserve some tasty Daniel smut so here y’all go ( I’m sorry but this is Fem!Reader, I’ll make some other !Reader fics soon!! ). Also Daniel sure loves being a bottom smh.

It’s been 7 months since you found Daniel, emotionally and physically hurt beyond imagination. He was mangled, extremely defensive and as stubborn as an ass.

It took you a while to smuggle parts and blue blood, but eventually Daniel was repaired.

His slow repair added more time to get to know each other. You found out about his past to an extent. There was a certain line you didn’t cross, after a certain point he would start to panic and doubt himself, degrade himself, thinking it was all his fault, even after he admitted it wasn’t. 

Every time you returned home chirping happily that you finally found the right parts, he would lose more and more of his paranoia.

He knew he was a deviant, and he was more aware of the fact that police would shut him down for good if he was found. He never understood why you helped him, and what drew him to finally trust you. After all, the only humans he thought he loved only used him.

He would ignore you at first, only because he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t feel like saying thank you was enough, you literally put him back together from the horrifyingly awful state he was in, and for what? the company of a bitter man? A stubborn, difficult android?

It was probably the 4th month, he was fully repaired by then. You started accepting that those fuzzy feelings in your stomach was more than friendship. 

You kept remembering the times you had to bathe him before he had all of his limbs replaced. He was well, uh, equipped. He was designed to be a sexual partner if needed, so it wasn’t a surprise, but it wasn’t that, that made your mind spin. It was the fact that he was alive, you were literally bathing another person, and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

You came home from work, exhausted, as usual. Feet sore from your heels, you kicked them off, dumped your bag and literally ran to your room, ready as hell to change into your sweatpants and one of the many too small shirts you bought for Daniel. You had to admit, you sucked at shopping for him.

You finally came out to see Daniel petting your cat Tater Tot on the living room couch, and reading one of the many shelves of crap Romance novels you had, TV playing some nature documentary about dolphins.

“Hey, Dan, watcha got there? Hope this one isn’t as embarrassing as the other one.” You cringed as you remember him having the face of pure shock when he found a book about sex tips and positions that your crazy wine aunt gave you for your 18th birthday.

He looked up from his book with a smirk “Well, (Y/N)...” he teasingly purred “If you didn’t leave it on the kitchen island in plain sight, I wouldn’t have found it.”

You rolled your eyes “Yeah, yeah, smartass...” 

He closed his book and rested his hands on his knees, making Tater stretch and jump off of him. “You looked more tired than usual? You ok?”

You’re eyes shot up “O-oh, I’m fine. I just have... a lot on my mind.”

His face warped into that of concern “You can tell me what’s up, I literally owe you my life...I’ll help you with anything”

Your throat felt dry as you opened your mouth to speak “I-It’s stupid...”

He inched closer “Nothing you say is stupid for me.”

You inhaled and...the words just spilled out “IloveyouafuckinglotandIdontknowhowtofeelaboutthat”

He stared at you for a moment with wide eyes. The awkwardness was too strong, you felt like you were lit on fire from the embarrassment. You shut your eyes, hoping the tension would go away.

Then you felt his lips on your’s.

Holy shiT.

He pulled away, and with his trademark asshat Daniel smirk “How do you feel about that” he purred against your lips. 

“Like this.”

You grabbed his shirt and literally crashed your lips against his, you’re tongues creating some sort of erotic dance. Your hand slipped under his sweater, rubbing and touching any skin you could feel, eliciting a shaky exhale against your mouth from him.

You pulled away from a moment, breathing ragged and shaky “Holy fucking shit where’d you learn that from.”

He just let out an airy chuckle “You think I took a peak at that book for nothing?”

cheeky bastard...

You just giggled and rolled you eyes “Just a peak, huh?”

You grabbed his wrists, and in one swift motion, you straddle him under your weight. Your lips met his neck, your hips starting to grind against him. You want to wring every single lewd sound that could escape his lips out of him.

You slowly make your way down, leaving a trail of kisses and bites until you reach the waistband of his sweats. You start to palm him through the fabric, making him moan, hips arching off of the couch into your touch.

“Eager, are we?” you purr as you slowly slide off his sweats and boxers, throwing them wherever.

Holy shit, CyberLife does not sleep on details. 

You slowly start stroking the base and leave a wet, sloppy kiss on the tip of his throbbing cock. He let’s out a pathetic whimper as you take him all in, agonizingly slowly.

 All of his thoughts are static, nothing is coherent or understandable anymore. All he could feel was waves of pleasure shocking through his body for the first time, his fans on overdrive because he was overheating.

He wasn’t making sense, all of his words were getting caught in his throat, melting away into noises that made the aggressive, stubborn Daniel that many knew, look like a pathetic mess under your spell.

You released him from your mouth with a loud and lewd pop, making Daniel emit a disappointed whine.

“F-fuck, why’d you stop?”

Daniel quickly understood after you almost ripped your clothes off, undergarments thrown without a second thought, desperate for him, him inside you. 

You crawled up to him until his face was almost against yours as you slowly sat down on his length “A-ah fuck!” You took a moment to adjust “I haven’t done this in a while. Give me a break, will you, darling?”

He exhaled an airy moan against your lips as you started to move “F-fuck..this-I’m-” 

You look him in the eyes, filled with lust and desire “You look so beautiful when you’re like this...so raw and...alive.” 

You started to quicken, toying with your clit as you practically ride him into an oblivion. Every move you make made him become more undone, the side of him that he didn’t even know existed, shone threw the cold facade that he created. 

Your insides tightened as you felt the familiar buildup of pleasure waiting for it’s release. The sounds Daniel was making was intoxicating, the way he lets out a sharp “Ah!” or a long, deep groan would drive you closer to the edge.

“A-ah! I feel something building u-up, it’s g-good”

Daniel’s first orgasm was sure a wonder. The way he bucked his hips, the way his thighs twitched, the way his face morphed into a perfect image of ecstasy and arousal, the way he screamed that he loved you while filling your insides with all of him, while your pussy twitched around him during your own high. It was perfect.

You just dropped on his chest, exhausted. 

Daniel, on the other hand, was in paradise, he never felt anything so euphoric and addicting before, so alive. Never felt so in love with someone, no, not in this way. 

You both just laid there, Daniel stroking your hair, whispering how amazing that was, how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, how he has never felt more alive.

You finally make yourself walk to the bathroom to clean up, dragging Daniel all the way with you. After you guys finish up, you just lay in bed cuddled next to him until you fall sleep.

THI S TOOK W A Y LONGER THAN I IMAGINED IT WOULD SO, EnjOY???

ALSO, THANK YOU AGAIN!

also sorry if there are some wonks it’s 3am and I don wanna spell check

[meteora-writes]

Drowning In Myself

Chapter 1: Take Me To Church

Paring: Nick Clark x Troy Otto (eventually)

Warnings: No Apocalypse, Recreational Drug Use, Drug Abuse, Addict!Nick, Drug Dealer Troy, Past Child Abuse, Violence (in future chapters), Swearing, Survivors Guilt, Slow Build

Summary: Troy is a drug dealer that’s new to L.A.. Calvin asked Troy to take care of his customers while he takes a much needed vacation. First night on the job Troy receives a call from a long time client and good friend of Calvin’s asking to meet at a church in the shittiest part of town at 3AM. The guys grubby, and alone, and something about the way he asks Troy to stay with him while he shoots up sticks with Troy as he drives away that night. 

Or, the story of how Troy helps a drowning Nick find his way back from the brink. 

Authors Notes: I got the idea for this from listening to the song Help by Papa Roach. 

~~~~~

Troy climbed behind the wheel of his truck with a tired sigh. It was three in the morning, and he was driving out to the middle of town to meet up with a new client. Calvin had told him this guy was notorious or needing a fix at this time of night, but he wasn't expecting to get a call the first night his fellow dealer was out of town.

He'd woken to the sound of his phone buzzing its way across his nightstand, a shaky voice saying they got his number from Calvin and they needed a fix; now. Normally, Troy only dealt with people who could meet during a more reasonable hour, but he figured he owed Calvin for getting him his current job. So, he took the address down, threw on the clothes he'd been wearing the day before, and headed out to the abandoned shitshow of a neighborhood to meet his new client.

As the trucks headlights hit the side of the fence that surrounded the old Church, Troy spotted him. A figure sitting curled up with his back pressed to the tall wooden boards and a dark grey hood pulled over his head. He didn't look up as Troy pulled up to the curb a few feet away.

"You Nick?" Troy asked as he climbed out of the idling silver pickup.

The figure on the sidewalk raised his head then, pulling his hood down to reveal shaggy brown hair and a dark almond complexion with dark eyes that shown almost copper in the glow of Troy's headlights. "You Troy?" He countered, blinking up at the man standing a few feet away.

"Depends if you're Nick or not." Troy said with one eyebrow raised. The guy looked like Calvin had described, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Yeah, I'm Nick." He finally said, pushing himself to stand and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "You wanna do this in your truck or the church?" He asked, looking around the empty street a bit anxiously.

Troy looked at his truck, then the dilapidated church. After a moment's thought he turned and reached in to kill the engine. He pocked his keys and waved a hand towards the church. "Lead the way."

With a quick nod Nick turned and led him around to the hidden opening in the fence. "It's empty tonight. I think everyone's too scared to come back." He said, like he expected Troy to know what he was talking about. "So you don't gotta worry about anyone trying to bother you for samples or anything."

"I don't do samples." Troy said with a snort. "Sides, I only brought what you asked for."

"Yeah, right, or course. Sorry." Nick said, scratching at the back of his neck as he led Troy into the abandoned building. It was mostly dark, the only illumination coming from half a dozen candles and a single battery powered camp lantern up in the balcony area.

Troy followed Nick up the stairs to the balcony, pausing a moment when he saw the remains of police line tape on the floor in a few places. He ignored it, choosing to focus on getting his money so he could go home and go back to bed.

Nick spun around when he reached a small mattress on the floor. He plopped down on the edge with a huff and reached into his pocket to pull out a wad of crumpled bills which he started to count out as Troy stood a few steps away watching him. "I really appreciate you coming out here this late. I tried Calvin, but he didn't answer."

"He's on vacation." Troy supplied, tone a little amused as he watched the younger man count under his breath.

Nick nodded, still counting out crumpled ones. "Right, right. I knew that. Anyway, I would have called earlier, but I had to find the cash. Cops took everything I had stashed here after what happened..." He said, trailing off and focusing on the task at hand.

"What happened?" Troy asked, curiosity getting the better of him as he turned to look around the illuminated area of the balcony. There were some clothes scattered on the floor, mens and womens, a backpack, police line tape, some trash, and not much else.

"You don’t know?" Nick asked, pausing in his counting to blink up at Troy in surprise.

Troy shook his head, meeting Nicks wide eyed stair with a quizzical one of his own. "Just moved here from down past San Diego. Don't really talk to anyone except Calvin and the handful of clients he set me up with." He explained slowly.

"Oh... Uh... My girlfriend OD'd here... About three months ago... I called the cops when I found her and they threw me back into rehab. Just got out yesterday, actually..." Nick explained, pointedly not looking at Troy now and counting out the last of his money. "Shit." He mumbled under his breath.

Troy blinked down at the younger man, trying to gauge the weight of his words. "Your girlfriend dies of an overdose, and you come back to the place it happened to get high as soon as your clean?" For going through something so traumatic, the kid had balls.

Nick let out a mirthless chuckle, his voice a little manic when he spoke next. "I tried going back to my mom's house first, but all she did was guilt trip me about getting my girlfriend killed and rave about how my little sister got into Berkeley. I'll take getting high in the place I lost Glo over that any day." He said as he pulled a few more crumpled bills from his pocket.

"Fair enough." Troy said, clicking his tongue as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the little baggie of drugs. "You're ten short." He pointed out as Nick rummaged through his pickets for the missing cash. "Just have it next time, alright?" He said lightly, holding the bag out in front of Nick's face and giving it a little shake to get his attention.

"You sure?" Nick asked, grabbing all the cash from where he'd been dropping it on the mattress and holding it up in exchange for the drug.

"Yeah I'm sure. Calvin said you're a loyal customer, and I trust him not to steer me wrong. Just have it next time." He reiterated with a shrug, taking the handful of crumpled cash and stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket while Nick took the little baggie of powder.

"Hey," Nick started, making Troy stop mid turn to leave. "I know it's late, and you don't know me, but could you stay a few minutes? I don't like to be alone when I nod."  

Checking his watch, Troy heaved a sigh and reluctantly nodded his agreement. "Yeah, sure. I'm probably not gonna get back to sleep tonight anyway." He admitted as he came to sit on the floor with his back to the edge of the balcony.

Nick smiled at Troy, a big genuine smile that lit up his eyes beautifully, as he kicked off his sneakers and moved to pull off his hoodie. He had on a black short sleeved t-shirt underneath that hung a bit loose on his lithe frame, the collar a bit stretched and showing his collarbone and a bit of his left shoulder when he moved to grab a candle and his little tin full of supplies from the other side of the mattress.

Troy watched closely as Nick prepped his drugs. He had never actually watched anyone do heroin. He'd only just started selling it a few weeks ago. Until he had moved to L.A. he was only dealing low level stuff. Weed and pills. But when he met Calvin on a trip of up to L.A. to visit his brother, the offer to move up and sell harder drugs for a higher cut of the profit was too good to pass up.

Nick caught Troy's eye as he went to hold the spoon over the flame of the candle. "You good over there?"

Troy blinked up at Nick. "Yeah, just never watched anyone do this." He admitted with a smile. "Don't stop on my account." He added, waving a hand in a gesture for the other man to continue.

"How long have you been dealing?" Nick asked, continuing on with his prep.

"Since I was 18. Brother got me a job at a hardware store. Wasn't for me. Fell into dealing after I quite that and it's been paying the bills going on four years now." Troy said, still closely watching Nick's every move.

"You've been dealing four years and you've never watched anyone do this? That's kind of impressive." Nick said as he prepped his needle.

"I only just started dealing heroin. Calvin offered me a job when we met last month, and here I am." Troy said with a sweeping gesture. "Sitting in an abandoned Church at almost four in the morning watching my newest client get high." He said with a smile.

Nick snorted a laugh at that. "Thanks again, I really appreciate it. Usually there'd be at least a few other junkies crashing here. I heard a rumor while I was out tonight that no one's been back since Glo died. They're all too scared of her ghost or some bullshit like that." He said as he drew the drugs up into the needle.

"And you're not?" Troy asked, tilting his head to watch the other man get ready to inject himself.

"I see her in my dreams every night anyway, why would I be afraid of seeing her when I'm awake?" Nick responded simply before bringing the needle to his skin.

Troy watched Nick's expression as he shot up. Face pinched in concentration before a slightly dopy smile hit him. After he finished with the needle he set it and the other supplies aside in their tin and curled up on his side on the mattress. He faced Troy, blinking tiredly now as the drugs tool hold.  

"Sweet dreams, Nick." Troy said as he watched the other man fade out. He waited a few minutes, just watching the younger man breathe before finally heading home. The whole drive back he couldn't help but wonder what Nick was dreaming about.

[unravelling-the-world]

I was trying my best, and another friend who always took pictures of us (we took pics of him as well dw) documented all of those moments, i even used a not-permanent spray color hair for that day just so the pictures could be special. I didn't particularly like myself, I never did ,but I was too busy to think about it. When i went out, i felt decent at least. Binder, thick under-eye red/black liner, just the perfect e-boy look i wanted. I felt that, as a pre-hrt person, I was looking as masc as I could while doing the style that makes me comfortable and I want to achieve. I was doing my best everytime we went out to look presentable in the pictures, and I did well 9/10 times. At some point, there was a light festival as well. I went with one friends and my cousin and we had fun. My friend and I took pictures, my cousin didn't want hers taken but we still interacted a lot and had fun, I loved the pics of that day. I never got to post them, because my downfall came soon after. At that point in time, I was finally living the dream. I posted frequently on ig (bc i went out frequently) and even though i wasn't anyone big, no partnerships or anything, not even 1k followers, I was growing, and having been intoxicated by fame at age 12, it was just what I needed. My posts started getting 70 likes on average and 7-10 comments, i only had 500 followers but they were growing at an average of 20 followers/month. A lil tween reached out to me and told me he thought I was really cool and was my fan. Bro, that was awesome. Things were moving forward, and altough i felt afraid of the future, I was working on it all. I was making progress in other aspects as well,having come out formally recently and with help from my psychologist, we were going to start looking into hrt, and i just couldn't believe it. I only have read fast and short info. I never really wanted to inform myself more because deep within me I was just afraid I'd never be able to get it and get my hopes up for nothing. We appointed a session to talk about that. This was march, and at my house, we watched a Japanese channel (because we are all interested in Japanese culture and such) So I knew the coronavirus was coming. They started talking about it since the start, in december, obviously, because they are way closer to where the virus started so it spread faster there. I remember it was on a cruise first. I knew it would eventually arrive here, so through all summer i told my mother "it's only a matter of time." I knew it'd come. March was here, and the last time i went out with my friends came along. Inside my head, I felt like I knew that was the last time. I had thoughts about "I wonder if i'll ever get to see a sight like this again". I managed to take some pictures, because,inside me, I knew that was the last time. I wanted to preserve the memory of it. I didn't want to forget. At the time, with a friend, who took the same metro line as me but lives further away, since it was just us two, when saying goodbye we'd always say "see you in five minutes" (like in endgame, because i told her the whole movie and told her when they said that and then black widow died) and she LAUGHED so hard and it became an ongoing joke between us (we are both kinda suicidal ngl but we just laugh abt it.) We said it that day as well, but we actually never saw each other again lmao

At that point, in the country, there were about 4 covid cases. Only 1 in the capital, so it had started, but was only just the start. When I got home, i kind of knew that was the last. My classes started, and for two weeks, it was hell on earth. Online,obviously. I got paired up with the guy I hated the most in the entire generation (I only knew half of them, and liked even fewer, but this guy. fuck. i would have killed him. he was awful.) Anyways. Yeah. But at the end, classes got postponed until further notice. So I was now a Neet! For a while, even though coronavirus was getting worse and worse here as everywhere, I was doing good. I was living the introvert dream, and since I have a decent/good relationship with my parents and grandma, life was just great. All around me I saw everyone struggle with quarantine. I was having a blast. Playing sims, watching anime, anything went. Shit was great. Got Gta V for free when epic released it, and had a blast. Got obsessed with obey me for a while. It was all fun.... Met via discord with my friends. Almost daily with certain friends, once in a while with others, but the whole group would be together at least once. It was good, for me. I felt good. I would ocassionally wake up and tell my mother that I was happy, and hug her. I don't think i'd ever done that. I was at peak, and I knew it. Drew a lot, played a lot. Did a lot of things and projects. Everything felt ok...My dysphoria wasn't great during these times (since now i stay in pajamas all day except when I use camara to meet with friends, and obviously I dont wear my binder with my pajamas) But i had so much free time, that I could just ignore it. (I'm good at avoiding things. at running away.)

Classes started June 1st. First day, I had a breakdown. I don't remember why, but I couldn't connect to class. I felt overwhelmed. I don't know and don't like asking for help because i feel useless when I do. So I didn't. Apparently I seemed more upset than I thought, because my dad noticed. When comforted or confronted, I always cry. I can't talk about my feelings without crying. I feel weak for expressing them. Even writing this, i feel the knot in my neck. My dad saw and ended up helping and comforting. I cried a lot. I went to class, but spent the whole 3 hours of class crying. Things were unstable for a while, but I was keeping afloat, I guess. I started feeling like shit, I wasn't happy daily anymore. Online learning felt so distant and so difficult and so different. I don't like change. At least not without expecting it beforehand. So yeah, that ended up taking a toll on my mental health. The downfall started. I was quite busy, but still tried to meet with friends via discord whenever we could. We had some online birthdays, and season 3 of osomatsu san had already been announced. I was looking forward to it so much. I was in pain, but that thought was keeping me going. I started getting worse, mentally. I started isolating myself ocasionally. I have quite long gaps from this period. I can't really recall much of what happened or what it was like. At some point around August-September I was watching 6teen, because my uni decided that starting a semester and compressing it into a trimester was a good idea, and finals were in september, i think. At the time of finals, i was watching 6teen. I didn't wanna finish it, so I started total drama after. I had a week of vacation in September as well, and I think I was OK for the week.

I won't lie. I don't remember october. I only know Osomatsu-san started here bc I waited for it all year long. I regained closer contact with a friend who lives in japan. Halloween also had an online meeting. I cosplayed, and felt good with myself for the night, for the first time in months. But I ended up having a breakdown later that night. A friend who didn't come and had said he'd come ended up arriving very late (2-3AM ish, meeting was at 10PM) He was very drunk. I don't mind. He says he just came to say sorry he didn't come bc he ended up meeting with irls. We tell him it's ok. He disconnects. He reconnects not long after, but we are confused, since that's not his voice. It was his friend who took his phone, a classic party prank. Doesn't matter, it was fun for a bit. This guy is also mad drunk, so talking to him is weird and funny. But shit gets bad for me in a bit. I was using a voice changer, as I usually do online, because Im ashamed of my high pitched voice. But this guy misgenders me, more than once, and also my friend who lives in japan. He doesn't seem to care, and I act like I don't, but it hurts so bad. My other friend who was there at that time corrects him, more than once. I felt thankful to her. I never thanked her afterwards because I didn't know how to bring out that topic without crying. This guy is very drunk though, and altough i doubt he had vile intentions because of the way he phrased it, he insists, that those are womans voices. They talk about it a bit, verbal comebacks. I wanted them to stop. At some point, my friend who lives in Japan leaves bc its lunch time for him. I felt like shit. I just told this other guy "I'm 10" and he dropped the subject, he believed me and the explanation. My friend laughed her ass out, because she thought I said it as a joke. Truth is, that was just a desperate answer to get him to drop the topic. I dont really care if he believed I was 10 or not though. I just wanted it to stop. He jokes with my friend for a bit more. I didn't talk much after, because I felt ashamed. I didn't want to talk ever again. Even now, even with the voice changer, I don't have the confidence I had when I started using it. I have lowered the pitch twice, just in case. My friend left the call a bit later. When she left, I left as well. I was thankful to her though. I don't remember if i cried or not, but it caused me a massive breakdown for about two weeks. I didn't talk online with anyone until my birthday, I think. I didn't tell anyone but my psychologist this.

I don't remember November much either. I know it's my birthday, and I know I came back to tumblr in november. Yall know when. Canon destiel and shit. Tumblr hadn't felt so alive in years. It felt like home. I remember I was having a bad breakdown during that time. I think it was career related. I can't really remember much. The shitshow happening on tumblr Destiel Election actually helped me get better. I remember this only because of a conversation I had with a friend. I started working on christmas decorations as well. December came along, I worked hard on christmas decorations. I played a bit as well, because on some of my classes I just didn't have anything to do lol. Decorations were finished two weeks in advance for christmas. For the first time ever! I was happy. During these times,Nov-Dec lockdowns started easing up a bit. I still can't go out at all though, because I live with my grandmother, so we're supposed to minimize risks. My parents only go out for shopping essentials that can't be bought online. So it's fair and I understand it, but it started becoming hard on mental health. Not because I can't go out, but because my friends start going out. They know I can't go, they don't exclude me, but they know I can't and I also know I can't. I guess in a form, its jealousy. It becomes hard because there's no one to blame. It's no one's fault. I'm not excluded on purpose, but the truth is, I don't want to hear them talk about what they do when they have fun. I've always been insecure. Even when all evidence points otherwise, I still believe, deep inside,they hate me. They wish I weren't in the group and would be better off without me. It gets hard sometimes.

Even though in general December was quite good, it also came with a major breakdown. One of my best friend's bday is in December. Up until then, Me, her, and another friend had been playing league of legends nearly daily. It was toxic sometimes (the game/community, not my friends) but we had fun. I just liked playing together. But that would come to an end as well. My friend celebrated her birthday, and did invite me, but obviously I couldn't go,and she knew this beforehand, so she didn't get mad or anything. She handled the situation very well, wrote on the gc once, and then did a special gc for birthday attendants to talk about details there and such, and reminded friends who asked in the gc to talk in the birthday gc. (this is how i knew, but i think it was well done tbh, i wish they'd just asked in the bday gc instead so i wouldn't have seen it and felt bad about how i couldn't go) My friend also offered to have me as an online guest, like, being in videocall in the computer on the table. like Karen from spongebob ig. the idea was cool, but honestly i felt bad. She celebrates her bday with her gf bc their dates are near, and I just didn't really want to inconvenience them? I mean, her gf is cool and she used to hang out with our group ocassionaly and she was cool and fit in, and it never felt awkward talking to her irl or anything but it's not like she's my friend and honestly I didn't wanna inconvenience her party, and even though I'm sure my friend wouldn't have minded, I didn't want to be an extra inconvenience for her too. I just wanted her to have fun, honestly. But feeling like a burden ended up weighing on my mind. This caused a bad bad breakdown, beforehand I had started to become better,little by little, but these two weeks waiting for that event to happen felt like a nightmare to me. I didn't tell anyone. I think i wrote it about here once. Around this time, an account on instagram called "matsunoadvice" got reccomended to me, and Oh boy Have I gone to them for advice. Of course, I sent them a message at the time, desperate for someone to talk to, because I couldn't tell anyone about this, because all my other friends know each other kinda and i didn't wanna inconvenience everyone. I didn't want anyone to know i felt like shit. I felt thankful to my friend, because she did try her best to include me, I just didn't really wanna inconvenience anyone. I guess I'd rather suffer alone myself than being a pain in the ass for someone else. After all, I've accepted that I'm alone long ago, and since now there's nothing I can do to maintain my social relationships now,I may as well just accept that theyre ending now. I kind of isolated myself for those two weeks, sometimes i would still connect on discord, but it always felt kind of distant. I stopped playing league of legends around this time.

I still hadn't confirmed to my friend if i was virtually going or not. Truth is, i kind of knew I probably wouldn't want to go in the end, bc im Like That™ But i told her in advance that i'd let her know the date of the event early in the day because of how unstable I am and I wouldn't actually be sure until the day (which was true when I told her) So the day of the event i told her that I was thankful but I wouldn't be assisting virtually and told her to have a great day! She replied okay in a nice way as she always did. I don't think she seemed weirded out by my answer. I hope she didn't feel bad, because she's very empathetic so I hope she didn't think about me at all that day. I hope she never reads this, and even if she does, she didn't really do anything wrong and handed the situation the best she could, the pain was unevitable for me due to the situation. beforehand i had also had a similar breakdown though, because 3 friends who i was/am? still very close to started meeting each other to skate together. I don't know how to skate/have never skated and obviously can't go either way, and sometimes they'd talk about it in the vc. I remained calm always until the call ended,but I did cry about it late at night. It's selfish, of course, but when no one saw anyone, it was easier. we were all the same. But now it felt like they were all moving on without me. In a way, it's what I always wanted, but I always wished to die first. I know it's not sane, but i'd imagined situations like that in my head, where I die and then everyone moved on and it made me feel calmer. But seeing that unfold before my eyes, when i'm still breathing here, i'm still here. It felt lonely. I'm glad they're having fun. I'm just upset I can't do it as well? And it makes me feel like inevitably my relationships with them will break and fall apart and dissapear and they're all still gonna be a interwined network, even though I did everything I could to maintain it because it's all I've ever had outside of my direct family? I didn't make any friends at uni or have a different group of friends so it just...hurt? It still hurts, i'm just more used to it. Also after the bday i did try to connect in vc but it just made me worse, like a friend said like "noo it got too wild honestly u didnt miss anything" and i was like lmao ok but i felt like kinda sad anyways but if i was there i wouldve probably slept through it anyways

...after i felt awful bc i have another friend who is just kinda blunt and kinda dumb when it comes to how others feel, and he was like ohh yeah but after the bday [friend] took us and some of [friends gf's friends] to our houses and since it was early we went to a mcdonalds and it was so fun !! and it was just so uncomfortable bc obviously im glad you have fun but like i dont wanna know??? bc it hurts a fuckin lot???? and my other friend who was also in vc (he was the one w the car) he was like "haha yeaaa it was fun" but he seemed quite uncomfortable talking abt it he could probably tell i didnt wanna hear and ik my other friend only did it bc he's naive not bc he had bad intentions but yeah it sucked i was like haha thats great heh.....like what ya want me to say babe

Christmas arrived and it ended up helping me a lot. Christmas is my favorite holiday and I decorated a month in advance, baked cookies for the first time (with my mom) and we just did a lot of things this year. It made me happy and kept me occupied through the pain (I know i described a lot of pain here but I only paid attention to it at night, which is why it still hurts now probably bc i've had it all repressed) And of course the gifts, honestly I didn't know what to expect because this year I didn't really know what to ask for and just asked for a surprise (because i love receiving things! anything) And my dad definetely outdid himself with all the gifts, I loved them and they're all useful too! I was amazed and i told my friends abt it and it ended up in me talking more in the vc again, and i also started playing genshin impact in late december as well. We also held a secrer santa in the group but not everyone participated (mostly bc of money) but the 4 of us that did was fun! i knew everyone's secret santa bc 2/4 asked to me for help and they were mutual </3 so i knew me and my other friend were mutual too lol but it was cool. I kinda was a bitch a bit though bc he delievered my gift to my home and was going to come a random day and I just wasn't prepared bc I was afraid of seeing him honestly I didn't want to see him and I hoped he wouldn't come? He didn't come that day but he did come some days after, I truly wasn't ready at that point anyway and my mom said we could let him inside if he sanitized, but he came with his mother and didn't get out of the car, we just exchanged the gifts, and honestly I was glad, i was polite and just said hi to both and thanks and all! Obviously i love him a lot bc we're close but idk why i didnt want him to come into my house i just feel like im so boring now and I dont know what we couldve talked abt and honestly ive always been shy but now i just forgot how to socialize and i was terrified so when he didnt get out i was just glad.....well, also

I feel like all of these incidents separated me and my friend who had her birthday on december. Now she wouldn't join the vc or gc often (or say she couldn't, which she usually did before) so I just assumed she hated me, but i didn't really have the guts to ask? She still liked my memes on the gc sometimes but not as she used to, she always used to like every single meme (or nearly all) and she never talked over me (I always get talked over except when I'm drunk bc i become a bit less shy therefore more violent) and would even call others out for me when talked over and always respected everything i told her abt me (Through the years, i've told her some of my deepest shits bc i just trust her like that i dont mind if she knows) but it just felt distant? Also a bit before that, at the start of december we started streaming on twitch, and that week i was very bad I told her i wouldn't play much bc i wasnt doing well but I was up for streaming bc i rly wanted to be professional abt it even if we dont pursue it as a career, but in the end we didnt stream, and fell out of streaming a bit after that. I was kind of afraid to ask her if she wanted to stream again, but we'd talked once and she said she'd finally gotten the cat earphones for the streams (she mentioned she wanted them beforehand) yeah anyways i dont think she actually hates hates me but idk the idea still lingers in my mind

uh yeah also i felt like shit for a bit bc i thought she definetely hated me bc we hadnt talked in a bit and she didnt like my memes anymore so i just assumed the worst, i even listened to break up music (which is what i do when a friendship ends bc altough ive never rly had strong romantic feelings for anyone that kind of song helps me move on after friend breakups too bc no one warns you abt how painful these are) and i cried obviously, but again i never mentioned it to anyone (i made a few vague textposts here though) and just got my shit together even if it hurt? lol, well a bit of time passes and everything seems to go back to normal, i dont remember how she told us but she said she had a job now which is why she didnt connect much and slept earlier and i felt relief lol bc i legit thought she hated me and i felt like shit abt it lol i mean the idea they kinda hate me lingers in my mind all the time but at that point in life i was like. SURE she hated me until that point. now we ocasionally play genshin together but i cant really talk at that time and that also makes me upset bc i do wake up late and im trying to fix my schedule a bit by waking up at 2pm instead of 5 pm but it doesnt even matter bc i play board games with my grandma daily (bc its good for her and its fun i do enjoy it) i just wish we could do it earlier bc lately she gets up at like 9pm and i end up finishing playing at 11/12/1 and its just kinda late to meet w my friends bc i always have smth to do/finish after and i just cant make it in time even if i wake up earlier? lol but i cant change her schedule so theres nothing i can do but cry about it

oh also ik matsunoadvice gave me advice on this but like there's this friend who i love obviously but sometimes he just talks abt his meetings w other friends and like it only makes me angry as fuck and i cant ask him to not bc im too shy but i wish he could stop. and also when he complains abt skate related stuff it makes me unexplainably angry but like i have no reason or right to im just angry bc i cant do that and probably never will bc i doubt ill ever be able to go out again ?? lol. and he even offered like "when we go out again u should come and ill lend u my skate and if u like it u can get one" and honestly its all super nice and i appreciate it and ive thanked him and told him yes but it just makes me feel angry inside bc i dont see an ending with all the mutations and shit and my voice cracks when i tell him haha yeah if we ever meet again bc honestly my youth is already over and i just spent it like a social recluse and i read a post here when i was younger that said like lgbt people spend their teens closeted and ashamed and live their teens in their twenties but now im gonna miss my twenties to the pandemic and then ill be too fucking old and itll be too fucking late and ill have to die and i just never lived bc i still havent even transitioned yet and i doubt ill ever be able to (this also causes me a lot of pain but i will ignore it) and the other day he said like i hope i can see u this year bc i miss u and i just said that honestly ive lost all hope of ever seeing anyone again and my voice cracked and my other friend said something related but not so related and im just glad he talked in bc i didnt rly care i just wanted to change the topic bc i know ill never see them again and eventually probably lose contact and see them all have fun together without me just as if i was dead but just didnt pass away and its difficult but i have to accept it and it hurts a lot now but in 7 years itll be fine, just like i accepted im unlovable and will never have a s/o and when i was 12 that hurt a lot but now it doesnt so someday i will be alone but i hope it doesnt hurt anymore.

this is all a mess and the format is everywhere and theres no timeline i hope no one reads it. if u do read it im sorry. i just honestly been carrying all of this for a while now and i want it out of my system honestly bc i dont know what to do with it and i was on the verge of a breakdown for a minimal thing hours ago i just want all this info out of my brain.....also obv these are only the bad things that have happened/good things that took me out of the hole but a lot of good things happened too lol and i skipped a lot of imp points like i changed careers and shit and also i met a lot of cool mutuals since i got back to tumblr and ososan been carrying my mental health every monday but yeah i just wanted the negatives out of the system. the frustrations and the anger. i hope no one reads this fr its so messy

[zzpopzz]

Really long rant about how I made Vanilla Twilight, I typed it at 2am so it’s kinda crappy and boring, just skip through this post.

So I'd been thinking about it for a long time now, even before finishing Vanilla Twilight that I'd talk about it if someone asked, well that never happened so I was just thinking that I'd let it go but that post is so important to me so well fuck it I'll just talk about it anyway. I did it completely on a wimp like how cool would it be if I make a lyricstuck for Toumaki like I'd be the first (if anyone did this before me im sorry). The first song I intended to do wasn't VT, it was a much shorter and easier song. I saw the music video first time after a while and the lyrics gave me some scenes to draw right away, like the tones, the atmosphere, the lyrics all fit them very well, made me wanted to draw something happy but sad. The ending for it was a happy one instead of a sad one like other songs I did (I didn't post the ending for any of them, just let the viewers decide what it's gonna be) I was very scared like what if it won't turn out ok and people gonna hate me for it or no one even gonna look at it. Also what I visualized are mostly illustrations with backgrounds, what I never done before so high chance it won't go anywhere. I thought well let's just see how far will I get and won't talk about it at all until I post it so at least I won't be all barks no bite. I was very traumatized that someone might know about what I did so I locked all the files when I shut down my PC in case someone hack into it lmao. I started with making a storyboard(kinda) for it, this is where I first got trouble because there was some part I didn't think of when I visualized what I'd draw at first ( 'I don't feel so alone' part mostly and some in between) and it's only at this point that I realized how many I'd have to draw (over 40 images total) and it's mind blowing for someone who rarely finish a painting like me at that time, that number is more than what I'd draw in a year. VT doesn't have choruses that meant I can't do tricks like repeat some panels (I don't like this anyway). I usually painted on small canvas before that but I wanna make sure I can fix things later and some idea I had was pretty big so I used 3000x5000px canvas then trimmed them down ( I didn't know how big it was and it's huge). The idea was to make a tumblr scroll-post like a lyricstuck (my favorites are by paperseverywhere and toastyhat/emptyfeet , they made really cool tutorials about these) so I tried to drew out compositions that would look good scrolling down panel by panel and have some connections between them (this didn't turn out so good in the end because I wasn't good lol) Since I was scared that people might point out that I draw something wrong, it took me almost a week or something searching for references (check my pinterest board) like the streets, sky, houses, roads, outfits, poses,... I was going to draw. I got some knowledge about bikes by this too, like I can tell the differences between road bike, mtb, touring bikes,... I also see and captured bunches of screenshots and reread ywpd trivia countless time to make sure I won't get anything wrong. If you take notice, every outfit Toumaki wear in there are all canon, from anime or promos. The first few panels was really exciting because I had never painted so many with backgrounds before, I was really happy when I almost finished the first verse even compared to the full 3:50 of the song it was only 20 seconds and I thought maybe I can pull this after all. The last panel was intended to be Makichan standing infront of his house looking at the sky but I wanted to show the sky at the end of the panel and that wouldn't work on scroll-down post so I had to leave it for later, I repainted this panel for about 3 times and finished it just 30' before posting. The first panel of the second verse wasn't turning out alright too because that was my first time doing a 3 points perspective drawing and the colors didn't turn out as I wanted either (my intention was a green/gold dawn scene). Things kinda worked well despite that until the scene when Toudou sits in his ink, gdi I didn't know why I was so caught up in that and painted every piece of that wooden floor, it took me almost a week but turned out better than I expected so I was ok with it. I was going to make sketchy paintings for all of the panel but I did too much details on that one so it gave me the impression that I'll have to do just as much for every others. Now I still had school to go and that semester my uni got me pretty crappy schedule that made me have to wait for classes at school frequently, I was frustrated because I didn't get to paint during that time and I might finish it too late (even though I didn't set a deadline) and when I got home I just spent so much time checking twitter and just can't pick myself up to draw and ended up feeling shitty about it. *Side story*  I was so mad because I didn't get anything done and there's still more than half of the whole thing to do and the worst part is that I had no one that I can talk to because I didn't have any friend who ship Toumaki and I also don't want to publicly talk about what I was doing, I wanted to surprise people when I'm done, I didn't wanna give people the expectation then screw it up (I literally thought I'd drop a bomb not a grenade lmao) I can't remember how long was that shitty phase but I felt like it was so long, I barely finished verse 2 at that point. I was so mad at myself and my progress so I spent a few days to look at time management threads and this helped a lot, I changed my habits completely  by this and I still apply those methods now, like I used to stay up til 3am to read fics (bless you writers you fueled me with your writings bless you all) then I switch to bed before 12 and get up early for a good start or reduce working time while increasing quality* After that I kinda got things together,I just went ahead with painting tho it's still kinda tiring, I had to work on 5 essays during this time too. At this point I was like screw all, I give no shit about what everyone thinks I'm just gonna finish this and get some good nap (I practiced power nap to get more focus time for painting but dude everyone wants a good long nap) 10 days before uploading I found out that there's a Toumaki day (I'm so sorry), I was going to posted on the first sunday of June (I did researched on which was the best time to post on social medias so I randomly picked a sunday) and Toumaki day is the last sunday of May, that meant I had 10 days left and 15 panels to paint! I was going to ignore that but I already made it big I should make it right too so I shit my pants going through those last panels. I purposely hiding Toudou's face till the last verse to emphasize the feelz and got so relieved that I finally got to paint him (I read some tags that some viewers got emotional at this part so I'm so glad it worked). The whole things was put under Makichan's perspective so I was so sick of painting him at that point, he showed up in every panel and I can't paint him ugly because he's beautiful (especially his hair, I spent shitload of time painting them). I can talk lots about why I picked to do so but that's headcanon shit and it's embarrassing so let's just skip that. The last day I had only 3 panels left and I was hell confident that I've got this and somehow spent the whole evening rewatch Toumaki pingpong ep (end me). Of course that didn't end well, I managed to finish those by midnight but I still had like 3 panels that needed  repaint completely and all 43 needed retouch and edits. My plan was to post at 9am sunday (thats 9pm saturday est) so I had to get up at 5am and finish all that, I ended up cutting down 2 panels and simplified the instrumental panel (some tags said that was nice so I was at least relieved). Unlike other songs I did, the length of every line's quite different and the original sizes I did would make viewers have to scroll slower or faster at different parts. I didn't plan this beforehand and had to trim down some panels even the parts that I really liked and spent lots of time on. I also found out that people outside the homestuck fandom might not familiar with this type of post so I made a video too (I’m sorry I have zero skill in editing). After posting I was terrified of people's reactions or worse, there won't be any reaction so I turned everything off and went to sleep and woke up with an unimaginable number of notes I'd got, I set the target of 500 notes and I really didn't think that I'd get past that number like maybe 2-300 (well my other songs didnt even get 200), at the end I got 5000. I spent the next week reading and screencap tags given in reblogs, I put them on desktop and they're still my motivation til now. Vanilla Twilight is the thing I'm proud of the most even until now, when I've done other songs and projects that look somewhat better. If I have to recommend one thing on my blog I'd recommend it despite its' unskilled paneling, poor composition and muddy colors. It was the first time in my life that I'd put so much effort into something and went through such emotional roller coaster, the feelings I put into it was raw and the idea was very original compared to other songs, I improved and changed a lot during the 2 months I spent on it and never once regret doing it. ***Anyway, you sure have much free time to read it this far, here's a little game for you: I put random things in VT and HF like some characters/stuff from other series, my ocs,... (there wasn't anything purposeless in there even the logo on their cups or the bags they wear) just send me anything you find and I'll draw you something in return**

[kingofthebottleshooters]

Carve Their Name With Pride

Written for @cactuarkitty‘s MERweek. It’s one of a few one-shot ideas I’ve had for a while, so this was a good opportunity to get it written. It’s set in the aftermath of the attack on the Citadel by Cerberus in ME3, and revolves around the tragically short relationship between Shepard and Thane. It was also largely written between 3am and 5am while I was watching the UK election results, so bear that in mind when reading!

Garrus lay on the med-bay bed, talons drumming against the covers, the only sign of his impatience. Dr Chakwas had patched him up pretty well, but she was adamant that he wasn’t going anywhere without her permission, and it was grating on him. He didn’t need to be there anymore, and there was too much that needed doing. Not on the Normandy, for a change, given that all the fighting had been ground side, or what passed for it on the Citadel, but the clean-up had been bad enough after Sovereign; he shuddered to think what it would be like after Cerberus had attacked the entire station. At least with the geth, most of the damage had been collateral.

Shaking his head to try and get rid of that dark thought, his mind drifted to Thane. The Drell had been stabbed by one of Cerberus’s more efficient drones, and last Garrus had heard he was in surgery. It was not a happy situation, but Thane had been through worse even before he joined the Normandy. If anyone could laugh off such an injury, it would be…well, probably not Thane, now he thought of it; for all that he had a dry sense of humour, the assassin treated events with the weight they deserved. He would be calm about it though, Garrus was sure of that much. Perhaps it helped having Shepard there to worry about things for him, took the pressure off somewhat.

The med-bay doors swished open. Garrus turned his head a little, and let out a theatrical groan.

“Spirits, who let you in?”

“Heard there was someone crying like a baby over some chicken-shit scratches,” Vega said with a broad grin. “You know anything about that?”

“I’m here purely on medical advice,” Garrus replied shortly. Vega smirked, but said nothing. He was intimately familiar with rule one of military service: don’t piss off the doctors.

“Any word on how long we’re sticking around? I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to help with clean-up, but I’d have thought Shepard would have better things to do.”

“Haven’t heard anything specific, but it’ll be a couple of days, I imagine.” He didn’t explain why. He wasn’t sure if the Alliance knew about Shepard’s relationship with Thane, and if they weren’t it wasn’t his place to say. “The Council’ll probably want to debrief Shepard pretty thoroughly.”

He realised what he’d said as soon as Vega started chuckling, and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m dosed up on painkillers that’d kill you, Jimmy.”

“Whatever you say, Garrus, whatever you say.”

The doors swished open again, and Dr Chakwas strode in, her face troubled. She set about freeing Garrus from the battalion of monitors he was hooked up to before saying so much as ‘hello’. It wasn’t like her, and Garrus shot Vega a worried look before addressing her. “Doctor? Thought I was in the for long haul – not that I’m complaining, of course…

She shook her head. “Ideally yes, but I think you’ll need to be up and about, I’m afraid. I’ve just heard from Dr Michel. Thane didn’t make it.”

Garrus stared at her for a moment, speechless. “He – what?”

“There were too many complications with his Keprals,” she elaborated. “The blade went through his lungs. If it had just been that, or if the wound had been somewhere else…”

Garrus tossed the wires aside, clambering to his feet. “Where is she now? She knows, right?”

Chakwas nodded, her eyes starting to shine a little. “Yes, she…she was there at the end, at least.”

“Sorry, I’m confused,” Vega chipped in, his gaze flitting between them rapidly.

“Thane Krios – he was one of our team against the Collectors,” Garrus said shortly, pulling on his armour. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chakwas looking at him curiously, but she didn’t say anything.

“Oh, the Drell that Cerberus asshole stabbed? Dios, that sucks. I didn’t know he was a friend of yours. I’m sorry.”

“He…” Garrus trailed off, then sighed. “He wasn’t just a friend to Shepard.”

“Oh.”

He supposed that was all that needed to be said, really.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Garrus and Vega had combed all of Shepard’s usual calling points on the Citadel looking for her, but to no avail. Her comms were off, and Traynor had been unable to track her through the station’s still glitching systems (Garrus suspected EDI would have had better luck, but the AI was busy lending her assistance to C-Sec). Inevitably then, it was when they returned to the Normandy that they found her, talking stiffly with Kaidan Alenko.

Garrus growled a little, unsure whether it was sub-vocal or otherwise, and not really caring either way. He didn’t really have anything against the major – for all that he’d hurt Shepard back on Horizon, it was fairly understandable under the circumstances – but of all the times for him to try and talk to her…

As he and Vega drew near, Kaidan broke out in a wide smile, and hoisted a duffle bag to his shoulder. Shepard nodded at him, then made her way onto the ship, the major falling into her wake like he’d never left. Garrus increased his pace to catch up, and Kaidan looked over his shoulder. His smile was a little wary.

“Garrus, good to see you!”

“Major,” he acknowledged before brushing past him. He reached out and placed a talon on Shepard’s shoulder. “Kate…”

She shrugged him off. “Get Kaidan set up somewhere, will you? I’ll be in my cabin.”

She disappeared into the elevator, leaving the trio gathered awkwardly around it.

“I’ve missed something, haven’t I?” Kaidan said, regret in his voice. Garrus sighed.

“It’s good to have you back, Kaidan, but…this might not have been the best time.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One day stretched into two, and they should have left the Citadel, but Shepard hadn’t yet left her cabin. It seemed like half the crew had tried to visit her at one point or another, only to be ignored. Dr Chakwas had forced her way in, persuading EDI to override the doors on medical grounds, but she would only say that Shepard needed time. There was no-one aboard who begrudged her that, but Garrus and Kaidan had had a quiet discussion about which of them might have to field the call from Hackett, if it came.

It was in the early hours of the morning, or at least the night shift, when Garrus heard it. He was still awake, tweaking a minute misalignment on his rifle, when the sound of drilling reached him. He cocked his head, startled and curious, then picked up his sidearm before leaving the gunnery. The mess was empty, but the drilling was louder. It stopped as he made his way through the mess, and as he rounded the elevator shaft he heard the doors closing again, and the faint whine of the elevator moving.

There was an addition to the memorial wall.

He approached, reaching out to brush his talons over the rough plate. The other names on the wall were laser-etched, neat and professional. This one screamed of the personal touch. He wasn’t entirely sure that the name hadn’t been carved into the plate with a knife, going by the marks. It was messy, rough, but spoke far more for what the plate meant to someone than the official ones.

It would be the only outward sign of Shepard’s grief, Garrus was sure. She might, eventually, confide in someone, maybe even him, but the crew as a whole would never see her blink. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He knew there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“So long, Thane,” he sighed, coming to attention a little sloppily. He was out of practise. “I’ll keep an eye on her for you, as best I can.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Months later, the carved plate gained a twin.

That one was a team effort.