superjijino

[icharchivist]

cw: child abuse (psychological, grooming, ect)

also speaking of parental abuse there's also this text of how Millie wants to be Tyra's mother, but she doesn't want anything that makes Tyra unique.

She started loving Tyra the moment she saw her find some dinosaure when she was dying in the cold and starved after being separated from her parents, seeing that despite her situation, Tyra was so excited about finding a Tyranosaure she was forgetting how desperate her situation was and instead loved the dino right away.

Millie saw how excited Tyra was about it, and loved Tyra right away enough to decide to make her hers.

But Millie hates dinosaurs, she finds them disgusting, she uses them as tool and keeps insulting them, hates that Tyra sees them as her family.

she used the dinos as bait to get Tyra to pay attention to her, and she used a particularities of the dino to mind control Tyra

but even now as Tyra is being brainwashed, everytime she looks at the dinos, Millie just tells her "don't look at those disgusting things, just look at me, your momma"

and it's another level of control that rings way too true on parents who """"""love""""" their children, but not for who they are -- just for what it brings them.

yes Tyra is cute. But everything she likes, everything that makes her happy, is disgusting. So it needs to be removed from Tyra's life. Her love and her excitement has to carry over to Millie, not to the stuff she actually like.

it's something way too real and it's genuinely giving me the yikes it makes me unwell.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Wrong Sibling

Summary: Class 1A learns that their hero fundamental's teaching assistant is dating Todoroki's sibling. They assume it's one of his brothers.

They're wrong.

Pairings: Izuku/Fuyumi, mentioned Inko/Mitsuki

Tags: Female Midoriya Izuku, Aged up Midoriya Izuku, Izuku is like early twenties, Bakugou isn't a dick, for once lol, Midoriya Izuku Adopts Shinsou Hitoshi, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Quirkless Hero Midoriya Izuku, Endeavour was exposed

On AO3

Part of the They're Lesbians series

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The first day of the Class 1A Heroic Foundations class, All Might walked in with a green-haired girl wearing a pale blue jumpsuit and a pair of goggles on her head. Around her waist was a large belt and had multiple pockets everywhere. The top of her jumpsuit was down, revealing she was in a black tank top and her arms were a mess of scars.

“IT’S GREEN BOLT!” Tanaka squeaked, the brunette girl covering her mouth and squealing. Green Bolt threw her head back and laughed as All Might chuckled himself.

“I have a fan! Nice!” Green Bolt smiled at the class.

Ochako figures that she had more than just one in the class, as Kirishima hissed so manly and Ashido clapped her hands excitedly. Then again who wouldn’t be shocked and awed to see the Green Bolt- the first Quirkless Hero in Japan and ranked in the three hundred of the limelight heroes. Though while they were all fans- Tanaka herself was Quirkless too. It made sense she idolized the hero more.

“Nice to meet you all- well I know about four of you.” The woman nodded as she looked around.

“You know some of us?!” Kaminari asked, but then froze. Ochako winced, glancing to Todoroki.

The biggest claim to Green Bolt's name was her unearthing and reveal of the abuse Endeavour put his family through, as well as her reveal of the Hero Commission’s more unsavoury practices.

Todoroki though just smiled.

“Hi nee-chan.” He said simply.

“Hey!” Bakugou turned and glared. “She’s MY sister!”

“She’ll be my sister-in-law soon,” Todoroki told him.

“Oh joy another uncle,” Shinsou called out mockingly.

Tanaka looked like she was having a heart attack as Green Bolt snickered.

Ochako joined her. It was hard NOT to laugh.

-0-

“YOU’RE GREEN BOLT’S BROTHER?!” Tanaka yelled, slamming her hands into the lunch table where Bakugou was. All of 1A had ended up sitting together to eat, gossiping about their lesson the other day. “AND YOU’RE HER SON?” She lifted a hand to point at Shinsou.

“Calm down pigtails,” Bakugou said. “Yeah, she’s my sister.”

“And my mom. She adopted me a few years back.” Shinsou said dryly.

Tanaka looked so shocked, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

“You don’t look a lot like her, kero,” Asui remarked.

“My mom married mama when I was like… nine,” Bakugou said. “My bio dad is… he’s Quirkist. Made some comments about her being a hero my mom did not like. I was seven at the time and I just remember my mom throwing him out, shouting that if he can’t support his goddaughter he can leave.”

Ochako winced as did the others as Bakugou took a vicious bite of his lunch.

“I still see him. He’s not a bad person- just you know. Quirkist as fuck. But…” Bakugou sighed. “You can be a good person and hold terrible beliefs. I see him rarely.”

“Katsuki is my favourite uncle,” Shinsou said dryly. Bakugou glared at him and the purple-haired boy just smiled.

“And your brother is dating her?” Tanaka asked Todoroki who blinked.

“My sibling is yes,” Todoroki said blankly.

Ochako frowned at that wording. She glanced at the hidden smirks of Bakugou and Shinsou.

Well that was interesting.

The class got to know her well though. Midoriya Izumi was her legal name. She was twenty-three, had adopted Shinsou when she was nineteen and had a strong friendship with Phantom Thief- another TA in the school. Though it seemed they were bitter rivals at times as Phantom claimed.

Ochako witnessed a so-called ‘battle of rivals’ where the two just shoved each other into the mud cackling for thirty minutes.

“Too bad Phantom isn’t a girl- we could have some mud wrestling!” Mineta complained. Unlucky for him both TA’s heard him and slapped him with some pretty serious detention for that.

Bakugou was pretty tight-lipped, about his sister, just grunting when asked. Shinsou took a similar action, though he included staring.

Todoroki was the main source of gossip about her and his reactions were just blank: “She’s the one who punched out my dad and threatened to murder the people helping him cover up the abuse. I would die for her and if my sibling doesn’t propose soon I will.”

Of course, that just got the class wondering which brother the hero was dating. Everyone knew that Shouto had two brothers. Natsuo, a doctor in training. And Touya- the one who faked his death, came back with a rap sheet and a mountain of proof to prove that their dad did beat the crap out of them.

“I mean- it would be cool if she was dating Touya,” Ashido remarked. “He’s like really advocating for like helping abused kids and also villain reform. Shit sorry I mean Dabi.”

“I don’t know. Bolt-sensei doesn’t seem the type to go for a villain. Even if it was more out of necessity than not.” Yaoyorozu remarked.

Ochako mostly stayed out of it, not interested in gossiping about their teacher- more so when Todoroki’s words of Bolt-sensei dating his sibling, not his brother played in her head.

Something about it…

Ochako continued pondering that sentence through the first two weeks of UA, and she clutched to it after the USJ, after seeing Aizawa-sensei broken and bloody, seeing Bolt-sensei with a broken arm aiming a gun and taking a shot, teeth bared.

After seeing their sensei kill a villain for them.

Ochako still could see their sensei firing her gun. Could still see the splatter as the bullet hit the head of the mist villain. Could still hear the screams of the hand villain who tried to kill her.

The sight played in her mind for the week after the incident, when Bolt-sensei was under review for the death of the villain.

For an entire week, she felt haunted by her dreams.

When they did see Bolt-sensei the entire class cried out in relief. The green-haired woman stood with another woman who had white hair with red streaks, the woman smiling at Bolt-sensei. They stood in front of the gates, the class watching through the window.

“She’s back!” Tanaka cheered. “Does that mean she’s teaching again?” She asked Aizawa who grunted.

“Yes.” Was his only reply. Everyone felt relieved though.

“WHAT?!” Ashido screeched though upon seeing the other woman lean in to gently press a kiss to Bolt-sensei’s mouth. That got everyone’s attention.

“I thought she was dating your brother!” Tanaka said to Todoroki who snorted.

“I said sibling. That’s my sister. And they’re now engaged.”

“About fucking time,” Bakugou voiced.

Ochako simply watched as their sensei smiled at her fiancé.

Ochako couldn’t help her own smile.

She was happy her sensei had love in her life.

It was a very good thing in her opinion.

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Prompt: So what about aged up Izuku/Fuyumi. Izuku is a TA at UA and half of the students have a crush on her the other half wonders if she is in a relationship with Aizawa or Yamada. Meanwhile Shouto just calls her big sis once (she is over at the Todorokis often when Endeawhore isn’t home) and now people think Izuku is dating Natsuo until they have have a parent teacher conference (or the school festival something) where Izuku just dips a visiting Fuyumi and kisses her in front of everyone just to get the rumors out of the way.

Somewhat not following, but like here we are!!! Also, this was harder then I thought and I kinda am angry at how bad it is, but I legit did not know how to like drag it out? It's not like they're in the same class and they watch her all the time!!! She's a TA!!!!

But whatever. So here we are! Also- good Bakugou! For once in my works...

Hope you guys like this and Happy Pride!!

[lihikainanea]

We know how Bill is when Tiger is being a bratty grumpy pants, but what is Tiger like when Bill is being a short-tempered miserable grumpy sirenhead? How much patience does she have for Bill when he's a brat?

oh man, I kind of love this a lot because it really made me think, sweet nani. Good Dude Bill is just such a calming, reassuring force that it’s hard to ever imagine him as bratty but I CAN definitely imagine him as a grumpy, tall shithead. He’s always travelling, he works such long hours that while I don’t think he’d turn into a brat the same way that she does, I definitely think that the beautiful idiot gets really grouchy, gets impatient, is in general just a big cloud of negative feelings and generalized anxiety.

Maybe he has all the patience in the world for tiger--but it’s uniquely for tiger. Maybe by nature he’s a bit impatient, a bit short-tempered, because I really think that you don’t just grow up to be a quiet and calm human in a family of like 1984759 other kids all vying for attention to varying degrees. Maybe Bill is already a bit snippy just by nature, and when he’s exhausted or overworked it just hits tenfold. And I’ll bet his triggers are like...things that don’t work efficiently (because efficiency is engrained in his Swedish DNA), or it’s his own clumsiness that gets his feathers all in a tizzy.

It probably escalates--maybe it starts off small. He’s not snippy right away, but when he’s in a bad mood or his patience is wearing thin, Bill has a very specific...scowl. It’s more than a deep pout. It’s a legit scowl. He’ll grow very quiet, he’ll sit with his arms folded across his chest, and his brows will be all furrowed and tight and his lips will be drawn to the front in a look of pure and utter misery. I think it really happens a lot when he’s tired--or at least, it’s definitely a hair trigger when he’s exhausted but like let’s say they’re out at a restaurant, right? Maybe he’s just back from a shoot and it’s tiger’s birthday or some event or something, and he insists on taking her out for dinner. And tiger is always down for a nice, romantic dinner with her Big Dude--but she just thinks this is the most terrible idea. Because he’s jet-lagged, because he only got in in the wee hours of the night before, because he’s been on night shoots for the entire project, and she just...she knows her Good Dude. She knows exactly what kind of shape he’ll be coming home in.

But Bill is also as stubborn as a fucking mule. It’s something special, something worth commemorating, and he wants her to feel special and loved. I have a feeling that maybe Bill over compensates a lot, because some weird thing in him makes him believe that he has to. He’s not there for her the way he wants to be, he misses a lot of big things because of his work, and he feels he needs to make up for it. So despite tiger’s gentle suggestion that maybe they just take it easy and celebrate a few weeks later--Bill is adamant. He can’t celebrate a few weeks later because he’s shooting again, so it’s NOW tiger.

She doesn’t argue anymore.

But she knows it’s going to be a hell of a night. She woke him up from a nap to get ready (she contemplated letting him just sleep through but she knew he’d be furious), and Bill ALWAYS wakes up grumpy from a nap even when he’s not jet lagged. He looked like he was in a daze, trying to get dressed. He was too uncoordinated to try and get his cuff links on, and that’s the kind of shit that annoys him. His big gorilla hands and the teeny tiny little clasp of the cuff links, tiger heard him cursing as he tried to get them.

“Want some help?” she offered, but he scowled at her.

“I got it,” he grumbled.

But he don’t got it. Not even close. He fumbles with them for another good few minutes, getting increasingly more irritated.

And then maybe they get to the restaurant, but the restaurant lost their reservation. And see, that’s the kind of efficiency shit, or lack there of, that really fucking grates on Bill. He reserved online. He has the confirmation number. And he’s not a diva by any means, but it’s just...not efficient. And the restaurant is packed, which means the hostess maybe tries to cram them into a small table right by the kitchen--and to boot, maybe she even gave him a bit of attitude and pulled one of those I guess we’ll try to accommodate you.

Guess? There is no guess. He had a reservation. The restaurant fucked up--so they should fix it.

In any case, tiger sees the tick in his jaw when the hostess points to their table and she puts a reassuring hand on Bill’s chest.

“It’s fine,” she tells the hostess, “This is fine.”

“Tiger, it’s not--”

“Bill I’m starving,” she says feebly. And she purposely gives him that look--the look that’s a little doe-eyed, a little pleading, a little small. Only because it flairs up his need to step in and fix it for her, which will overpower his grumpiness every single time.

“Alright let’s get you food then,” he says softly. She smiles gratefully, and ever the gentleman, he pulls her chair out for her and waits until she sits.

But like, to make matters even worse--they’re right in a high traffic zone. So not only is any low conversation drowned out by the chatters and yells of the service staff and the kitchen, but every time somebody walks by, they clip Bill’s chair. He’s sitting a bit crooked only to accommodate his long legs under the table, but he gets jostled every single time somebody walks by.

“Want to switch seats?” tiger offers, but he petulantly shakes his head.

“Wouldn’t make a difference,” he grunts.

He’s getting increasingly more agitated as the night goes on. He’s kind of quiet, not really making conversation, and tiger recognizes the nervous fleeting of his eyes. She can feel his tension rising, that deep scowl still planted on his face. Not only are they in a high traffic zone but they’re also kind of...front and centre in the restaurant. Maybe the open kitchen is a big attraction so everyone’s eyes are pointed there, and that is basically Bill’s biggest nightmare. He’d rather be tucked away in the far corner, away from everyone--which, AHEM, he had politely requested in his online reservation.

The entire night is just a disaster. He’s so grumpy that even tiger is having a hard time keeping the conversation going. he’s so fucking anxious that she’s starting to absorb it, and she has to make a conscious effort to stay calm. Maybe the meal itself is also disastrous--they got Bill’s order wrong, there’s green onions all over tiger’s, maybe the food is cold or just not good at all and every little thing is just setting him off even more. By the time dessert rolls around, tiger waves the white flag.

“Not a chance bud,” she tells Bill as she immediately hands the menus back to the waiter, “Let’s get out of here.”

“You love dessert,” he snatches the menus back, “We’re having dessert, tiger.”

And listen, tiger just pulls then same power move that he always does on her. Her face gets stern, and she leans her elbows on the table. Catching his eye, she stares him down and doesn’t blink, her hands folded delicately under her chin.

“Just the check please,” he mumbles petulantly to the waiter, handing the menus back.

“What the hell was that?” he said in a hushed whisper once the server had walked away.

“Watch your tone with me bud,” she says harshly, and Bill’s eyes widen a little.

“Excuse me?” he asks.

“You heard me,” she says, and finishes off her wine.

“Tiger,” he says lowly, “That’s not how this works.”

“It is tonight.”

“Oh, you think so?” he challenges, but the quirk of tiger’s brow and the way she’s not backing down is...catching him pretty off guard.

“Try me, big bird.”

Bill is stunned. The two of them sit, locked in a stare down.

“Bill, listen to me. You are miserable tonight. Grumpy as fucking hell. And for as much as I appreciate this, do you know what I want most right now?” she asks.

“What?” he mumbles.

“I want to fix it for you. I want to take you home and fix it for you the way that you do every single time for me. I want you to be miserable and grumpy in a place where it’s safe for you to be miserable and grumpy, and I want to take care of it. Alright?” she looks to him questioningly.

“...Alright.”

“Look at me,” she snaps. His eyes flit to her immediately.

“Alright,” he agrees, “I’m sorry I ruined our--”

“Pay the bill moneybags,” she interrupts, “And give me the valet ticket. I’ll meet you out front.”

And listen, when they get home? Bill is still grumpy. He’s still exhausted and he’s still grouchy and he’s just so anxious about everything. So many bad feelings about everything and nothing. And when he’s like that, Bill really needs to feel physically safe to help start easing his mind...and that’s kind of hard for a really big dude, to feel physically safe. But tiger knows the triggers of his worries. He always worries that somebody will see him, somebody will take photos without him knowing, that somebody will notice him for his height or make some snide comment.

So what she does is put him in a real dark room, and completely wrap him up in a tight blanket burrito. She just swaddles the motherfucker until he can’t move his arms. And I’ll bet that Good Dude Bill just gets the sloppiest blow job ever--tiger is real loud about it, so that he can register her moans and her voice and know that he’s there with her and only her, that he’s not alone, but also that nobody else can see. Maybe she even flings her panties at his face so he can sniff those while she deep throats him, just to keep him in the present.

He gets all the soft touches after, maybe she climbs into his blanket burrito with him, just stays pressed in close and gives him some good head scritchies so he can calm down and breathe a little.

[h0esvck]

Lmao, a crack reaction to like there was sexual tension explOding between you two in the living room and he legit pULLs you into his room. You two fuck (it's a quickie) and when he open to door to get back to living room he sees the rest of the members have their ears pressed up against the door and when they are caught they all try to be so subtle about it. Hehe, I think it would be fun

Changed it up a little bit so every answer was a bit different hope you don't mind (⌒ω⌒)

Namjoon

You had been listening to Namjoon, watching him produce a song and go over it with Yoongi and Hoseok and good god the way he clenched his jaw. You knew he wasn't mad, he was just concentrating but hot damn he looked so pissed, so angry and it was making you throb and drip. So when Namjoon had a break you immediately pulled him into a closet and kissed him. "Fuck me, oh god, baby you're so hot please fuck me," you beg and he lets out a surprised breath before nodding. Of fucking course, he would fuck you. "Really quickly baby," he said and you nodded hastily undoing his pants. He pulled down your pants as well before he was throwing your legs over his left shoulder and fucking you into the wall as he looks into your eyes. "Fuck, was it me that made you so wet like this baby?" He asks and you whimper and nod. "Yes- yes you're so hot when you do- do that thing with your jaw," you said and he grins. "This baby?" He clenches his jaw and groans when he feels you clench because of it. "Want me to fuck you, jaw clenched as I pound your little hole until it throbs and you cum from my cock?" His words alone would make you moan, but his words paired with his clenched jaw and his cock thrusting into you had you moaning and squeezing around his cock in pleasure. You cum really quickly and Namjoon sets you on your knees before cumming into your mouth (at your request). You both moan and you swallow him down before being brought to your feet and you kiss. He tugs your pants back up your legs as button his back up. "Gotta get back," he says before going to open the door and seeing the other members of BTS listening. The sexy Namjoon suddenly turned into a shy embarrassed Namjoon. "W-were you listening???" He asked and the silence from the members answered his question. "Oh god," you both blush and you shoo the boys away before cooing Namjoon and telling him it was okay. You'd just fuck really loud all night tonight to make sure none of the boys can sleep if they wanna listen so much. And you did, all night long, loud moaning and pounding and no one slept a wink. Everyone apologized to you both the next day.

Seokjin

You didn't know why but something about Jin tonight was just... Good god, the way he was looking at you across the room as you both sat with the other members talking. It sent shivers down your spine and right to your crotch where you were becoming warm and wet, a perfect place for Seokjin to thrust his big hard-

You blushed deeply and pressed your thighs together at the thought. You should get yourself together, you had invited the boys over as guests for goodness sake!

But after so long neither of you could stand it. Seokjin looked so handsome, and you- you in your pretty dress and smooth legs look absolutely delectable. It wasn't long before both of you were finding stupid excuses to leave the room. You both met in the "Couldn't this have waited?" You asked, not being able to wait any longer yourself as he ripped off your panties from under your dress. "Don't act like you weren't eye-fucking me across the room too." He picks you up by your hips after you undo his belt and he slides you down his cock before pushing you against the wall to fuck you against it. "Mmm- Seokjin!" You gasp gripping onto him as he fucked you silly. This would be a quick fuck. And it was. You both fucked and came before fixing yourselves and about to walk out. But as soon as Seokjin opened the door both of you were surprised to see the six other members with their ears up to the door listening to you... Oh god. "What are you doing!?" Seokjin yells and they all scramble to rush back to the living room away from Seokjin who was ready to beat the shit out of them. "Seokjiiin," you whined and he sighed, "sorry, they're idiots," he kissed your forehead before going out to actually beat the shit out of them. "I told you not to do it," Yoongi says and another scoffs "in the end you did it too!" Jimin says and Yoongi bites his bottom lip nervously.

Yoongi

In the bathroom, you were sitting on the counter as Yoongi thrust his cock in and out of you. You had to bite your fist to stay quiet as he fucked you, rubbing your clit to make you cum. "So dirty, you'll go to a private place with me just to fuck knowing that the others are waiting for us," he sucks on your neck and you let out a moan. His thrusts are consistent, hitting the perfect spot and making you so so wet. "I can feel you clenching, you're gonna cum," he fucked you a little faster, his thumb rubbing your clit going the same pace as his thrusts which only made you gasp and cum that much faster. You moaned his name through your fist and he pulled out and came as well, cumming into his fist to make less of a mess despite how much both of you desired his cum all over you. He kissed you after washing off his hand, and as he kissed you he pulled your underwear and pants back up before tucking his cock back in his pants. You smiled and talked for a moment agreeing that you would go out first, so when you opened the door and saw six of your friends leaning against the door listening you screamed. Yoongi's eyes widened before he glared. "Get out!!!" You both stood in the bathroom together a few moments before Yoongi sighed in disappointment. "I'm gonna kill 'em,"

Hoseok

Hoseok was never good at being subtle or having quiet sex. So when he wanted to be subtle and slip away with you to go have a quick fuck you were sur everyone knew. Nevertheless, you went because sex with Hoseok is mind-blowing and you would never miss a chance to have it. So here you are, laid over a couch in the studio, legs spread as he pounds into you making you gasp and moan. He grins and grunts, every thrust quick and hard into the perfect spot to make it count, fucking you like you deserve. "So pretty, so sexy when I fuck you like this," your breasts are spilling out the top of your shirt, bouncing, and your short skirt is pushed up on your hips to give Hoseok access to fuck you without messing your clothes. He pounds into you making you feel so fucking good, fuck you wanna scream but you can't without being caught. You bite your lip to muffle your loud moans as your orgasm on his cock. He grins and pulls out letting you suck him off the rest of the way, swallowing the mess. Both of you compose yourself and he kisses you with a smile before going to open the door to leave, your hands interlocked. Except when you open the door you see the six members outside listening. You gasp and feel Hoseok's hand slowly squeezing yours. You could tell he was a bit mad. "Sorry (Y/N), you might wanna stay in the studio while I have a talk with the boys," some of them visibly gulp. You nod and kiss his cheek before he closes the door. You sit down and listen to Hoseok threaten them in a sweetest sunshine voice which is very intimidating and very hot for some reason...

Jimin

Slipping away from the dance studio together, both of you go to the family restroom and there Jimin picks you up and bounces you on his dick. You moan and grip his shoulders tight, looking him in the eyes as you drip, your leggings hanging off one of your ankles as you get bounced on his perfect thick cock. Mmm fuck, this position always made you cum so hard. And you did, you had to bite Jimin's shirt to muffle your moans as you came on his cock. He groaned feeling you clench. "That's it, baby girl, milk my cock," and your hips jerked feeling like you had another mini orgasm from his words alone. He pumped into you a few more times before pulling out and cumming on your ass.. He sighed and set you down, his arm muscles bulging a bit from bouncing your weight on his cock. You both wipe down and pull up your stretchy yoga pants, giggling to each other before going to open the door knly to find six grown men listening to what had happened behind the door. "You guys are sick," Jimin says before pushing them out of your way (Taehyung stumbling back and almost falling making you chuckle) to go back to the dance studio together where you'd practice your dance moves more.

Taehyung

Movie night with the boys and somehow sitting together, with you on Taehyung's lap had both of you exceptionally horny. To solve that problem you both snuck away to fuck in the nearest room. Taehyung had both your sweats down just far enough to fuck you, quietly snapping his hips against your ass as you moan into the bedsheets that smell strangely like Namjoon. Right now you didn't care, you were being fucked by your boyfriend you couldn't focus on anything outside him and his cock. "God- fuck so wet," he thrusts and you moan and whimper as you hear the wet slap of skin. So wet, you were enjoying this so so much. You both cum, Taehyung cumming inside because Taehyung just... He just liked doing it. You loved it too, and you were on birth control so. Plus, Taehyung didn't really mind the thought of having you pregnant with his baby so...

The two of you clean yourself up and kiss before going to exit the bedroom only to find the other members all standing outside of it, Namjoon looking so so disappointed, so sad. "Please don't tell me you did what I think you did on my bed..." Namjoon said and you both blushed. When neither of you answered Namjoon covered his face. "Oh my god I'm never going to sleep on that bed again." He says before Taehyung cringes. "I-I'll buy you new sheets hyung... We didnt get anything on them but- but I'll buy new for you..." He ends up buying a whole new ass bed because Namjoon refuses to sleep on it.

Jungkook

You were in the dorms with all the boys and when Jungkook decided to go somewhere to have a quickie he decided the closet when he had a whole ass room to fuck in. Regardless, here you were, in the closet, breasts pressed against the wall, and ass pushed back as Jungkook fucks you under your skirt. "Fuck you feel so good," he whispers as he holds your hips tight, fucking you, your panties pulled to the side to slide his cock in and out without taking off any clothes. "So hot, so tight baby you're so tight," he whined and kissed the nape of your neck making you shiver and drip. "I-I'm gonna cum," your toes curl in your shoes and Jungkook nods against your back reachubg around you to rub your clit which drives you to your end even faster. You orgasm, clenching with drives Jungkook to orgasm and makes him pull out and cum in your panties, making his cum press up against your pussy lips, hot and wet and making you moan at the feeling. Jungkook pulls down your skirt again and he tucks himself in, buttoning his pants. "Come on let's go," he goes to oepn the door and when he does you see all of his hyungs listening. "My little boy has grown up," Seokjin fake sniffles and Hoseok rolls his eyes. Meanwhile Jungkook is embarrassed out of his mind. "H-hyungs!" He exclaims and Namjoon promptly apologizes for them before making them walk away. "It's okay," you rub Jungkook's back comfortingly. "At least they can be jealous we have hot sex and they don't," you say and he blushes and snorts which makes you smile. "Let's go get a snack okay?" You pull him to the kitchen to get a snack after kissing his cheek. He follows like a good boy.

Masterlist ⛥彡

[okaybutlikeimagine]

(tumblr won’t let me respond to asks directly so we’re screenshotting them till further notice  🤷)(i had the WHOLE THING typed out w/ the italics fixed into the ask and i copied it so i wouldn’t have to go through and put the italics again and then my DUMBASS SELF went to copy a fucking SHRUG EMOJI and now i have to put the italics in again. good thing i do all this stuff on a separate google doc bc i’m a moron and would have lost the whole thing just now. anyway)

Hi!!! I’m crying bc you fucking KNOW that Billy would get so fucking embarrassed!!

Bc Billy is prideful!! I’m telling you, that boy has some Leo in his chart or something bc if anyone so much as smiles at a joke at his expense, he gets defensive. And that’s not to say that he doesn’t banter back and forth with Robin, and that’s not to say that he and Steve don’t give insults that sound like endearments, and that’s not to say that he and Jonathan don’t rib each other amicably… but it’s different. Pride is a very different thing.

Bc Billy is legit like a little lion cub. (AKA every Leo i know, therefore Billy has Leo in his chart, don’t @ me) it’s an almost juvenile kind of attachment to pride. Like a baby lion cub who’s just getting their mane in but holds their head like they’ve got the biggest one in the pride, it’s a little childish (as much as he may not want to admit it).

And it’s really not Billy’s fault. That’s what he’ll tell you. That’s what he’ll tell anyone. It’s not his fault he’s a brat and he’ll shrug his shoulders and he’ll continue to be rude/bratty and for some people (Steve) it’s charming and for others (almost everyone else) it’s tolerable but for Jim…. It’s…. It’s upsetting. Jim doesn’t like to be seen as “controlling” or a “hardass” or whatever but he’s not sure how he can just ignore when Billy is being disrespectful. Even if it’s only slightly. bc like…. He feels like he needs to be a good dad and good dads make sure their kids grow up to be good people, right??? Which isn’t to say he thinks Billy is a bad person but he worries because, like every parent, his biggest fear is fucking up. He didn’t get a whole lot of practice with Sara. and after her death he couldn’t help but think of every time he slipped up. Every time his wife soothed his hair and said: “We have time to get it right.” every day that passed with Sara in the hospital where he realized she was wrong.

And i’m SO sorry for getting into that but I think that really influences how Hop parents now! The man was broken and then just…. Acquired a 12 year old. And then a 17 YEAR OLD?? Like… the man would be Confused as to how to proceed. And then THIS happens…

Bc Billy has mood swings. Billy is a teenager and also the human version of a bratty little cat that puffs his chest out and ruffles his own fur and may leave a few scratches but is ultimately harmless (esp now that he has a nice, loving family!!) and so they’re at the dinner table and the boys are talking about their grades and whatnot and Billy may be a little pouty. Because maybe Billy didn’t study as hard as he should have for his last history test. He just thinks history is so stupid. He’d rather read a book or do 100 math problems. What’s history gonna teach him?? He doesn’t need to know any more about plagues.

So he says that.

Jonathan’s talking about how well he did on his essay and Will is talking about how he did on his math test and Billy’s pushing carrots around when Joyce asks: “How’s school for you, Billy?”

“Just peachy keen.” he sneers down at his plate. Hop tuts harshly.

“Hey.” Hop chastises, only serving to make Billy’s blood boil more.

“What?”

“Calm down.”

“I’m plenty calm.” Billy snaps back, but it’s quiet. He shoves a sliced carrot in his mouth.

“Have you had any tests or anything lately?” Joyce asks calmly, in that motherly voice she always gives that makes Billy’s mind swirl a bit.

“Yup.”

“Billy-” Hop warns and it makes Billy sit straight up, but give a challenging look in Hop’s direction as he says, loudly:

“Yes, ma’am.”

Joyce stops asking, but she sends a look to Hop, who’s still caught in a staredown with Billy. Billy can’t see her look, but he wouldn’t understand it if he could, because it says: Hop, cut it out.

And the conversation shifts to significant others and then Joyce is smiling kindly at El and asking about her and Mike and maybe Hop is pouting but he’s not gonna draw attention to himself bc Joyce will just hit him like she always does when he’s pouting over their kids dating (specifically El). And Jonathan is smirking a bit into his dinner but Will is visibly uncomfortable as El gushes about Mike before complaining that he doesn’t come over enough and that she doesn’t go out enough and Billy gets irritated. Why should he and Will have to listen to this when they don’t want to??

And he mutters something, darkly. Something about Mike and El and “ungrateful little brats”.

And everyone hears. He only half means it, but they don’t really think that far.

And Hop shoots a look his way before chewing on a carrot rather aggressively.

“Somethin’ to say?”

Billy gives Hop a challenging stare, but he backs down as soon as he starts it.

“No sir.” He mutters harshly.

“Then behave.”

“How about you and Steve, sweetie?” It’s Joyce. Being sweet.

“Happy as can be.” It sounds bitter the way he says it because it is. They got in a fight today. A little one, but enough to make Billy taste something sour in his mouth when he thinks about it. He figures they’re gonna make up just fine tomorrow, no flowers or empty promises needed, just another heated conversation followed by a heated make out in the front seat of Billy’s Camaro. Maybe followed by a serious talk that’ll make Billy’s face heat up because he still can’t believe this boy has Billy wrapped around his finger so fucking tight.

“Yeah, well Officer Callahan says you and Harrington have-”

“You know his name.” Billy growls, resting his fork on the plate.

“Steve. You and Steve have been running around empty fields a lot lately.”

“And?” Billy’s vision is turning red. It’s tunneling a bit.

“And what’s that all about?”

“Don’t really wanna give you all the dirty details.” Billy shoves some meatloaf in his mouth. Hop’s looking at him like he’s a hassle and Billy’s proud of it.

“You guys shouldn’t be doing that. Someone’s gonna say something.”

“And?” Billy’s getting madder. He puts his fork down with a loud clang.

“And you’re gonna cause problems-”

“For you?” Billy seethes, leaning forward a bit, just willing Hop to say it.

“For yourselves.”

“Oh yeah?” Billy asks, leaning back in his chair, blood boiling hot. “Well what about the little twerps?”

Billy nods over to El, who makes a whining noise.

“Hey!” She calls, face pouting.

“What about them?”

"I just don't think it's very fair that it's safe for them and not us." Billy growls, gritting his teeth, eyebrows low.

"That's not true."

"It's safe for everyone else but us!" He’s mad. He’s mad bc him and Steve have argued about this before. Argued about how there’s no real point in being together if they have to hide all the time. That one time when they saw Cindy and Jason being grossly affectionate in public and Billy grabbed Steve’s ass and Steve got mad. They fought for a few days and it ended with them laying in Hansen’s big empty field, on the outskirts of town, talking in dreamy, far away voices about how one day they’d move to California bc “It’s not like this there… trust me, babe. It’ll be so much better.”

Billy’s vision tunnels more. All he sees is Hop in different shades of red. He forgets where he is. He’s livid, thinking about El and Mike and Cindy and Jason and Tommy and Carol and Nancy and Jonathan and he’s going to scream. His heart is racing with disdain.

"You know it's still dangerous for El to go out." Hop warns.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Look... kid-"

"I'm not a fucking kid." Billy growls, leaning forward even more.

"Language!" Hop’s voice is booming and Billy’s had about enough of this. He resents being told off like a kid.

"Sorry! Excuse the fuck out of me!" He’s snarling and Hop seems about as livid as Billy feels.

"Go to your room!"

"Fine!" Billy yells, shoving his chair back and standing up, turning to Joyce for the first time all dinner and seeing her eyes full of… concern. He doesn’t know how to feel about it. Something in his chest heaves at the sight. His eyes flick over to Jonathan and then to El and then to Will…. And then his chest tightens. He looks away just as quickly.

He thanks Joyce quietly for dinner, mumbling it a bit but he thinks the sentiment is clear enough. He drops his plate off next to the sink and storms off to his room, slamming the door with probably too much force but everything’s on his mind and he has the right to be a brat if he wants.

It’s just that he hates just sitting here with nothing to do but think about everything. He doesn’t even have his stereo to listen to music with bc he gave his to El until she can get a new one bc hers broke and her nightmares have been bad recently. Listening to music before bed calms her down. Billy didn’t say anything about his own nightmares or his own need for music before bed. He wishes he had now that he’s laying in bed, about ready to rip his sheets to shreds bc he’s boiling. He feels like a storm but, to any outsider, he looks like a toddler- red-faced from a tantrum and fidgeting and bubbling like a shaken up soda bottle.

He’s so mad he can’t even do anything. The minutes pass in sticky but frantic moments of anger and thoughts and memories and the only thing his body will let him do is just sit there. Lay in his bed and pull at his covers and fall into thoughts and think about Hop reprimanding him like that and how awful it was and how red and angry he looked and how he sent him to his room like a kid and… and how Joyce looked so worried…. And how that same look was in Jonathan’s eyes…. And Will’s…. That same worried, concerned look. They all three have the same eyes- Lonnie be damned. Those boys share their mother’s eyes and all of the emotion that goes within them and it makes… it makes Billy mad he’s mad about it he knows he’s mad and-

And…

And he calms down a bit. Calms down enough to do what Steve told him to do when he gets angry and stressed and doesn’t know what to do with himself. Because Steve’s family is “well-traveled” and Steve knows all these weird little things from all these cool different countries.

So Billy takes out his notebook and rips a couple pieces of paper out (bc he saves the fancy paper Steve gave him for when he’s actually trying) and does some origami. Bc Steve said it’d help him to do something with his hands and this is something he can do quietly, in his room, without being destructive. ”It’ll help, I promise!”

The hardest part is making a perfect square, bc it takes too much patience and usually Billy doesn’t have that. But he’s just doing this to calm down so he eyeballs it as he cuts the paper and starts to fold what he knows, which is either a heart or a crane. Those are the only 2 things Steve has taught him that he knows off hand w/o the instructions or Steve guiding him through it.

There’s more crumpled paper on the ground than folded paper on his desk but Steve had assured him that was more than okay. It’s kind of the point, he figures. Crumpling and ripping up the paper is almost as nice as folding it to make something, and it makes actually making something feel even better when it happens.

He’s sitting there, on his 3rd heart, when there’s a small knock on the door.

“Go away.” He calls, realizing that the paper he cut isn’t a perfect square bc the corners won’t match.

“It’s Will.”

Billy pauses a bit. He goes back to folding his paper, not caring about the corners bc it’s not bad enough to start over. He doesn’t say anything.

He hears the door open.

“Do you think ‘go away’ doesn’t mean you?”

“Does it?” Will asks, voice earnest. Billy looks up to see his face matches.

Billy sighs, the harsh feeling in his chest softens a bit at the boy in his doorway. He turns back to his folding.

“What do you want? And close the door.”

“I wanted to ask if you wanna come listen to records with me.” Will says, closing the door behind him.

“I don’t think they want me out there.” Billy folds his paper with his fingernail to make it sharp. It burns his thumb a bit.

“That’s not true.” Will says, taking a few steps closer. “Mom told Hop… Dad he shouldn’t have done that.”

And that makes Billy mad. He’s not even sure why. It’s a heat in his chest and his face that feels like anger and he messes up his fold and he’s just… he’s confused and he’s red and all he can think about is Will saying “mom”. Not “my mom” just “mom” and also “dad” like he’s theirs and Billy can’t understand it still and he smashes the paper into a ball in his hand-

“I don’t need your mom defending me.” Billy says harshly, spitting the words out like he hates them, chucking the paper on the ground. He’s too aware of the way Will flinches a bit at his harshness. He takes a deep breath.

“Uh... “ Will’s fidgeting. Billy feels bad. He sighs.

“I don’t have my stereo.” Billy leans back, running a tired hand down his face. “Ask Jonathan.”

“But I wanna listen to your music.” Will says quietly and Billy believes him. Will’s been getting interested in Alice Cooper and Led Zeppelin and all of the fun bands that actually perform. Steve gifted Billy a VHS performance of Led Zeppelin and Will seemed to like the lead singer quite a bit.

“Well I don’t wanna go out there, pipsqueak.” Billy rips out another piece of paper. It’s quiet for a second, Billy eyeballing another square to cut. It’s so quiet, Billy thinks Will has left.

He thinks wrong.

“Can I still hang out with you?”

Billy puts the scissors down, exhausted, and looks up at Will.

“Alright, what’s wrong?”

Will shrugs. “Nothing. I just…. Like it in here.”

Billy’s confused, but he almost believes him for a minute.

“I don’t have music for you.”

“I can grab a book to read.” The boy’s so earnest, Billy knows he’s not gonna shake him.

So he waves him away with a nod and Will’s out and back quicker than Billy can think about how weird it is that this boy would rather sit in his room in silence than do something fun. Will’s closing the door carefully, latching it quietly and moving over to sit on the bed.

Billy has crumpled up 2 more pieces of paper before Will begins to pry.

“Are you folding things again?”

“Uh huh.”

“What’s it called, again?”

“Origami.”

“Cool.” Will scoots on his knees to the edge of the bed so he can see what Billy’s doing. “Do you need any help?”

“I’m good.” Billy mutters, unconvincingly.

“I can cut the paper for you. I’m good at making squares.”

And so Will is sitting criss cross on the bed, cutting perfect square after perfect square, while Billy sits backwards on his desk chair with his arms folding on the back rest and mind racing a mile a minute. Will’s so quiet and calm, willingly coming in here just to spend time with Billy, helping him now and… and something sick fills Billy’s chest. The only thing he can hear are his words at the dinner table.

‘Hey-uh…” His voice sounds weird to his ears and his tongue feels thick but he’s got Will’s attention now so he needs to get it out. “Sorry.”

Will’s eyebrows scrunch up. “Sorry for what?”

For being a dick? For ruining your dinner? For ruining your family?

Billy shrugs.

“I dunno. Just… not being a good example.”

“Whaddya mean?” Will asks, handing over a handful of squares before working on some more.

Billy shrugs again. “I dunno kid I just… I’m not like Jonathan. I’m not… I’m not a good example for you. It’s embarrassing.”

“What’s embarrassing?”

“Getting told off like that in front of you guys.” Billy turns back around so he can start folding again. He needs to do something w/ his hands.

“I told you, mom told him he shouldn’t have done that.”

“But he was right-”

“No, you can be upset if you’re upset. It’s fine.”

Billy falters a bit. He wonders if Will is quoting Joyce. The small boy keeps speaking.

“You’re a good example,” Will’s voice says, and he sounds so sure that Billy believes him. “You’re just a different one. You show me to stand up for what I believe and… and that it’s okay to be… to like boys…”

Billy stops folding altogether. Will’s voice gets quieter.

“You’re a good example. It’s good to let things out when you feel them.”

Billy’s mind is racing. He’s folding without thinking about it. Because the only thing he can think about is how he got accepted into this family so quickly. How Hop took him in and Joyce accepted that like she was accepting a package at the door. She took him in like he was her own son and not some bratty problem child being dumped on her. And now Hop reprimands him without his fists and Joyce chastises Hop for being too harsh even though he’s… doing his job, whatever that entails and it’s… it’s too much sometimes. It’s too much to think about but Billy knows he wouldn’t give it away for the world bc every moment like this reminds him that every passing day is a day further away from the pain he grew up surrounded by. The pain now doesn’t even compare to the pain then. This is so different bc this pain is laced with care and love.

He’s made a crane before he realizes.

“I’m glad you’re my brother.” Will’s voice sounds so far away but it crashes over Billy like a wave.

Billy nearly crushes the crane in his hand from the words. He’s so shocked at them.

He turns and gives Will the crane, not looking the boy in the eye as he gathers up the paper and the scissors from the bed.

“I don’t need any more paper. Thanks.” Billy mumbles, dumping everything on his desk.

“You’re welcome. Is this for me?”

“Yup.” Billy shoves the paper in a drawer and tosses the scissors into his pencil cup.

“Thanks!” Will’s so excited about it. Billy’s heart is fluttering.

“Wanna listen to those records now?” Billy asks, hands on his hips, fingers fidgeting bc this is a lot and he just…. He needs music now. Whatever. He realizes he shouldn’t be so scared. There’s nothing to be scared about. Will beams up at him.

“Sure!” Will gets up and rushes to the door as Billy grabs a folded heart and follows the boy out, aiming to give it to Joyce by means of apology. He thinks briefly about giving one to Hop as well, but he figures a spoken apology and a light punch on the shoulder and a promise to listen should do just fine to get the man smiling again. Bc somehow- somewhat miraculously -it always does.

[calypsoff]

Thirteen. Part 4

Chris grinned as he made his way to me, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he leaned down and caught my lips in a kiss. I held my arms in place, I felt the breath being taken away from me from this kiss, we have missed each other so much that I blushed when we broke apart from the kiss. He pressed my back against the wall, I smiled as he roughly kissed my neck “you smell so good, I missed you” he whispered, his lip trailed down my neck as his hands went up my dress. I am not wearing a bra just panties. His cold hands wrapped around my breast and gave them a tight squeezed. I gasped out as the pleasure ran down my spine. A low chuckle filled my ears. I gently pushed Chris away from me. His lips left my neck, I pulled my dress over my head once he moved back to let me do it. Chris licked his lips smiling, his lips trailed down my neck again and his hands worked on my breast. I let out a loud moan as my nails dug into his back. He let out a low growl into my neck, I could feel my body become hotter even though he was so cold. I swallowed loudly as I rubbed myself against him; he pulled away from my neck. Before kissing me again, his tongue grazing my lips; I continued to grind on him. Moving my hands to unbutton his pants, he moaned into my mouth, I could feel him pulse under me. It was a power rush to know that I made him feel like this, the fact he feels all these emotions for me. I bit my lip as his lips pulled away from me and went to my left breast. His tongue grazed over my left nipple.

“Chris” I groaned as he licked my chest. My fingers laced into his hair, he pulled away from me and looked up. His hands to tighten around my waist, my legs wrapping around his waist. From the gap between his unzipped jeans he slid my panties to the side and slid into me, my toes curled, it felt so good after all this time. I let out small gasps as he continued to enter me. My back was arching against the wall. When he was fully in me he slowly pulled out before slamming in me again. My fingers gripped his hair; my breathing came out in gasps “fuck, I missed you” Chris said. I didn't say anything, my eyes were closed, and I was trying not to scream knowing his friends are around. My back was rubbing against the wall; it was a mixture of pain and pleasure. I wrapped my legs tighter around him as I felt that familiar feeling build up. I opened my eyes to look at Chris, he was staring at me. I blushed but moved my hands from his hair and wrapped it around his neck. He kissed me deeply and I pulled away from him. My back arched and my head rolled back. I bit my lip “Fuck! Chris!” I yelped out “fuck me” I said staring down as he quickened the pace and my back banging against the way “yes” Chris attacked my neck, but I dragged his head back with his hair, he is not about to ruin my neck.

Chris and I smirked at each other “you think they heard? I hope not” Chris shrugged “even if they do I don’t care, are you hungry? You must be, I will get something in, what you want?” fixing my dress “uhm, I am ok with whatever, I just want to be with you. Then we can have some more time later, I really do like your apartment though, it’s nice. Shame you won’t be staying here long enough” I know he won’t, he will eventually be with me “don’t make me bring back ego Chris” hitting his chest as I walked by him “bathroom is where? I need to pee” I hope it’s close “it’s just here” he walked around me, opening the door “it’s just next to my room here, not far off. And I cleaned this for you, I did it quickly because there was things you would dislike” raising an eyebrow “and that is?” I am intrigued to know “toilet seat thing, I know women hate it. My mom really hated so yeah” nodding my head “better be just that” walking into the bathroom “uhm, there is a second door there” I pointed “yeah, that is connected to Barry’ room, either I had that but smaller room or the bigger one” pulling a face “I don’t like it, is it locked?” he shrugged “he ain’t there, Barry! Ayo!” he shouted “what!?” hearing Barry say “see, it’s ok, I will wait out here” I guess it will be ok.

Pulling open the mirror that is located just above the sink, I am nosey as hell. I gasped closing the cabinet quickly, I froze in shock. I mean I shouldn’t be shocked, but I am, there is a gun there. No, I saw wrong maybe. Opening it again and seeing the gun just there, there is a gun here. I feel the goosebumps on my arms, my eyes wide I closed it slowly and I jumped “Chris!” I spat, he closed the bathroom door “I heard the water run, I knew you was done” turning around slowly “what is that doing here?” is he crazy “just for protection, it doesn’t mean anything Robyn, it’s just there and it’s there to keep everyone safe, it’s Barry’ anyways. It’s just there for if anything happens. Nothing will happen but you never know, I promise you it’s just there. Don’t worry, if I thought you would be unsafe here I would have told you not to come, trust me right?” I wasn’t expecting a gun “well I Was being nosey and got caught but it’s not yours right?” he shook his head “I promise you it’s not mine, it’s Barry’ and he just keeps it there for protection, he has a license actually, but I can promise it’s not mine. I am forever in my room doing designs” I believe him “that is ok, but you have a lot of condoms in there” I didn’t miss that out “not mine again, why do I need a condom when I got you” I sniggered “right? Well you should use them, remember no babies!?” look at him being confident in his lies “I like to feel your pussy, not my fault but you’re on something, you good. Come, let’s go and see what the idiots want” he is something else, he lucky I do take something, or I would be with the way he has me screaming.

Walking behind Chris to the living room “least we know Rihanna’ vocals work” placing my hand over my mouth as I laughed, that is rude, how dare TJ say that “you dead ass heard all of that?” I questioned “we trying to play game” TJ looked up at me, I feel ashamed now “yo, TJ was sat here like oh na na what’s my name and all we heard is Chris, I swear I died laughing It was funny but yeah, glad that happened for you both but we eating now?” that is terrible “you are so annoying, wow” sitting down next to Chris “not every day we hear Rihanna getting dicked down, my woman crush being taken away by my best friend, that kind of hurts” Chris hit the back of TJ’ head “shut up, yeah well I asked Robyn. What you want, she can decide?” I shrugged “I don’t mind, whatever you all want. I mean I Would prefer Chris cooking” he kissed his teeth “you lost that chance when you didn’t turn up, you think I am going to do that now, no ma’am” I expected that “I will get pizza then” TJ and my eyes met and he just laughed, he is very annoying, funny but annoying “oh na na what’s my name, what is the most annoying thing that people do now that you famous?” placing my hand on Chris’ lap “can you hit him again please” TJ jumped off the couch “why the abuse, I asked a question. Not every day I see Rihanna. I have always been like this with you, dang” rolling my eyes “you mocked my English, you were mean. Chris hit him” I nudged him “you can do it, I am tyring to figure out what I want” he is useless.

Taking a sip of the wine, I am not drinking too much. Just a little, pizza and wine is a great match “I wanted to ask Barry, why do you have a gun?” It’s playing on my mind, I need to know it’s not Chris’ for sure “because you never know in life, I ain’t used it at all but I like to keep it here. Niggas can be jealous, it’s there for us. We not doing anything bad, nobody here drug deals or anything, we being good over here but I just keep for that reason” nodding my head “I understand, I just don’t want to be caught in this scandal that Chris is in a gang and stuff, I am just concerned about that” I get what he means “so you legit with what you said, can we actually come with you for the tour? Like minus Chris if he doesn’t?” Barry asked “Chris is coming but yes, it’s good for Chris to also have you both there. It can be one of those things where my friends and family can be waiting around doing nothing, just waiting around for me and it will be really good to see you all there. Touring is nice but it’s no fun at the same time, it’s a lot to be on the road. Missing home comforts but you all will see the narrowed down version of it, it’s hectic. I still don’t know how they are going to do it all, then more then likely Chris will hate it” I know he will “Chris hates everything, I think it’s dope. You hear that we are starting a clothing line?” nodding my head but Chris groaned out “you don’t suppose you could wear something from it, like I know people start from the bottom but we missed a lot of time and Chris is annoyed with me, we not using you, I can’t repay you maybe when we make it big we can but I am asking, I know Chris won’t” looking over at Chris, he is not happy, he is annoyed “I would do that for any friend, I can do that for you. I have people I know that will push your line to the highest places quick. I will wear it and promote it; you don’t have to be annoyed with that. That is free” he needs to not be that way; I can help them.

Grumpy hard headed man I have, I swear I have never had him like this because he was so fun loving when he was a teenager but now, he just doesn’t care for anything but himself, if he dislikes it he will say it or say something stupid to upset me more than likely, but he is trying. Barry and TJ have not changed at all but him, and I guess that is down to the fact he did get locked up so I must include that “why is he like this?” Chris walked off to get weed he says anyways “he doesn’t want to seem like he is using your name, he is uptight about it. Me on the other hand I was like plant your seed, the fuck? But he is not like that” TJ is an ass “this is why god doesn’t bless you, but I don’t mind, I swear wearing clothing doesn’t cost me anything, it will help you all so much. I didn’t to mention it to Chris while he was here, but I will take extra pieces and give to my peers, I am seeing J. Cole and Trey actually and I can give it them, I can pass them to even Jay Z and Khaled, he adores me a lot so he will do anything for me but I didn’t want to flaunt that with Chris because he will just get annoyed” TJ clasped his hands together “that will be so dope, thank you so much. I get it, we can keep that between us then?” nodding my head, that has too.

[shhh-no-ones-home]

glass heart chris motionless x reader

+++++++++ Oh my God this is so angsty and sad

Also trigger warning: blood, screaming, rage, and mentions of child loss

Song: silver and cold by AFI 

tag list: @svintsandghosts @alilpunkrock @cynic-spirit @thisplace-ishaunted @theoneandonlykymberlee @musicsexandpizza69 @joeybarber +++++++++

My heart ripped in half at the news. How could this happen? To me of all people? I was furious, betrayed by my own body. I paced around in front of our shared dresser, choosing to take the call in our bedroom. The large mirror hanging above it taunting me. I was worthless. I didn't deserve it and it abandoned me. I threw my phone harshly against the ground, steaming as I kept my pace. I seethed, clutching my fists tightly. I turned and looked at myself in the mirror, an evil grin coming back at me telling me I wasn't good enough. Before I knew what was happening my fist was colliding full force at my reflection.

"FUCK!"

I yelled, pulling my hand back as the glass shattered over the dresser, few pieces bouncing to the floor. I walked backwards slowly hitting my heel on the bed and falling backwards.

"Y/n?"

I heard Chris call as my back hit the ground.

"Y/n?!"

He called again as I laid there, staring at the ceiling feeling numb.

"Oh my God."

He said, standing in the doorway stunned.

"What happened?"

He asked, concern lacing his voice as he carefully walked to me. I held my hand up shakily, there was blood streaming down from my knuckles, glass penetrating the skin.

"Oh fuck."

He said quickly, coming to my side and helping me sit up. I stared blankly ahead, not saying or feeling anything. He held me tightly to his chest and rocked us back and forth.

"It's okay, everything's gonna be okay. We gotta get you to the ER though okay?"

He asked, leaning back and inspecting me. I nodded slowly and stood with his help. I was still shaking as I slid my flip flops on and followed him to the car. After he buckled me in he practically ran to the driver's side and pulled out of the driveway. I stared ahead of me the whole time but I noticed his tight grip on the steering wheel.

"What the fuck happened y/n?"

He asked looking over at me, worry overtaking him. I shrugged and he returned his gaze to the road.

"I thought you were on the phone."

He said in disbelief as he found a parking spot.

"I was."

I whispered to myself after he had gotten out of the car. Next thing I knew he was reaching across me to get the seat belt undone,being careful not to hit my hand. It burned like fire, blood still oozing from the wound. Neither of us knew what to do though, there was still pieces of glass deep in my knuckles. He ushered me into the ER and went straight to the counter. I didn't hear any of the questions the woman at the desk asked, vaguely hearing Chris answer her before she placed a hospital band on my unharmed hand.

"Please wait over there until someone can come take care of you."

I turned and walked away, sitting by myself for a second while Chris was still thanking her. The man across from me seemed very laid back, hands rested on his beer gut. I watched his beard move up and down as he talked.

"That looks serious."

He said half amused. I looked over it before looking at him with burning eyes. Then Chris made his way to my side, half hugging me and resting his face in the crook of my neck.

"God I'm so worried. Why would you do that?"

He said softly to me as we waited. I thought about answering him but I couldn't bring myself to. It felt like bile in my throat and if I tried to repeat the words that had been told to me I would vomit. He reached over and rested my hurt hand in his and I sighed.

"Y/n y/l/n."

A tall slender woman said, making Chris bolt upright.

"Here."

He said, standing and helping me up too.

"Right this way."

She said, taking us down a large hallway into a small room that looked like a regular doctor's office. She started asking similar questions to the woman at the desk and I just let Chris answer.

"How bad is your pain on a scale of one to ten?"

I sent her an annoyed look.

"On a scale of one to glass stuck in my hand I'd say about an eight."

I torted back at her. Chris just send me a look and apologized.

"It's fine. Let me get this sent and the doctor will be in in a moment."

I rested my hand lightly on my leg as I sat in the patient chair, Chris coming over and kissing the top of my head.

"I know you're in pain but you don't have to be mean."

"Oh, that looks like quite the damage."

The female doctor said as she entered the room. She reached her hand our for Chris to shake.

"Doctor imaht, I'll be taking care of you today."

She sat at the computer.

"Our assessment says you won't need surgery but we will have to take xrays to make sure the bones aren't broken. After we remove the glass of course. There is a strong chance though of nerve and tissue damage. If worst comes to worst you might not be able to feel anything in your hand ever again."

I blinked slowly. That's how I felt on the inside right now anyways. I watched as she scooted closer to me on her rolling stool, pulling a bedside table over and placing my hand on it.

"I'm going to get to work on removing the glass so hold very still."

I nodded as she set out the tweezers, pulling her gloves on and disinfecting everything.

"Okay, this is going to hurt."

I hissed as she began, closing my eyes tightly as she removed the shards. Chris rubbed my back reassuringly as I gritted my teeth. When I heard metal on metal I sighed and looked back at her.

"Alright, it's all out. Now we can go take the x-rays. Is there a chance you are pregnant?"

My eyes went wide. I wasn't expecting that question, not yet. I could feel the tears burning in my eyes and let out a sob before one could even fall. She sent me an apologetic look.

"Babe?"

Chris asked, looking down at me. I turned to her for guidance but didn't receive it.

"I'll leave you two alone for a second."

She said, turning and walking out the door. The tears were free flowing down my face now but I wasnt making any sound.

"Are you?"

He asked, stepping away to look at me properly. I squeezed my eyes shut and let out another sob, bringing my free hand to cover my face.

"No, please, just talk to me."

He said, wrapping me in a tight hug. I looked up at the ceiling as my body shook against him.

"I was so mad at myself."

I said, making him pull back away to look at me.

"I went in for blood work about a month ago do you remember?"

He nodded his head slowly.

"Well they told me I was pregnant. I had scheduled a doctor appointment and everything to make sure it was legit for this weekend. But I had to get more blood taken this past week and when they called about the results I asked about it and they told me there was no sign in my blood. I've been having really bad cramps lately and it just confirmed my worst fears."

I let out a Shakey breath, looking down at the table.

"I lost the baby and I'm so mad at myself. It's like the universe is punishing me with some cruel joke. I was so mad I didn't know what to do with myself. And now we're here."

It was so stupid to think about but I was so caught up in the moment when it happened. And he had to find out like this. He stepped closer to me and wrapped his arms tightly around me, hugging me against his chest again. He rested his head on top of mine.

"I'm so sorry y/n. I don't know how hard this is for you but I can only imagine what you're feeling. Knowing that we could've started a family together kind of terrifies me but I'm broken at the fact that that was taken away before it could even begin."

I closed my eyes.

"Just know that I'm here for you. You can talk to me no matter what."

Then there was a knock at the door and Dr Imaht came back in.

"Is everything alright? Are we ready to head to the x-ray?"

She asked, testing the waters. I nodded as he let me go.

"Yeah. There were some things we needed to get out of the way but I'm fine now."

I said, standing up and walking to her.

"I'll be right back I guess."

I said, following behind her.

"I'll be here."

He said, watching us walk away.

"I'll always be here."

[livingmybestfakelife]

St. James Infirmary

Summary: As much as Tommy wanted to fulfill his promise to you to move on, this might be one that he just can’t keep

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

“Let it go, let it go, God bless her

Wherever she may be”

The only thing stopping him from getting up was his wife cuddled on top of him, he envied Grace's ability to sleep throughout the night, he tried his hardest to gently move her, making her stir a little before she stilled again, letting out a silent sigh he sits up and goes to slip on a shirt and his pajama pants, the cold floor on the bottom of his feet didn't bother him like it usually does, for some reason he was burning up despite the fact that it was snowing outside, maybe he was coming down with a cold and had a fever, which would be the last thing he needed right now, he was too busy to have to lay in bed for a week.

Once he arrived to his office he streched and and plopped down in his chair, doing nothing for a moment but stare at the piles of paper on his desk, why did he think it was a good idea to begin doing loads of paperwork while in a drowsy state was beyond him, it was just something in him itching to do it “Well, let’s get this over with, maybe I’ll get bored to sleep” he says to himself while lifting up a pen, once again doing nothing, he didn’t understand what was going on with him lately, this happened for the fifth night in a row, waking up around the same time and not being able to go back to sleep, and if he did he’d just wake back up a couple of hours later, the insomnia begin to show on his face, bags forming under his eyes and his wrinkles becoming more prominent, everyone was worried but him, using the stress of business as an excuse but they knew better.

After all it was nearing the anniversary of your unfortunate death, the family agreed that this was the cause of his unhealthy sleeping schedule but knew well enough not to bring it up, it was too important for him to forget, the reason for his coldness, besides the war, your death drained Tommy of any peace, any faith and hope for the future, he no longer planned ahead or was optimistic, “whatever happens will just have to happen” he once told Polly the evening after your funeral, her heart broke for her nephew, never seeing him give up this easily.

He tossed his pen on a stack of paper before leaning back in his chair “the fuck is the matter with you?” He mumbles, he knew the answer to that question but choose to not acknowledge it, the denial comforting him just a little, the less he remembered the better, he had to fight it and stuff it away, it’s what you wanted, you never liked how he always fussed over you, obsessed over your entire being, so much so that he was willing to change and go fully legit once he arrived home from France “I’ll be an honest man for you, I want you to be proud of me”.

But being an honest businessman wasn’t him, maybe as a lover but not professionally, no matter how much he loved and adored you, there will always be a part of him that would miss his old ways, you never pushed him to be anything he wasn’t, his business was never something you were that into, of course you showed up to family meetings and gave your input when needed, but other than that you kept your opinions to yourself, more comfortable staying behind the scenes.

He still thought of you as an important factor to the company, helping out whenever things got backed up, assisting either him or Polly with whatever they needed, he once caught a glimpse of you and Pol having tea in her office during a break, you had stood up to refill your cup, and when the sunlight hit you he had noticed a pudge in your stomach, it made his heart want to hop out of his chest, how did he not notice it before? You, his dream girl was pregnant with his baby, HIS child, who else? Well he could think of someone else but you hadn’t seen him in over a month, he made sure of it, that part of your life with the prim and proper pretty boy and heir to his fathers newspaper company was over.

It wasn’t until later that night when he finally said something to you about it, wrapping his arms around your waist as you were taking out your earrings, he looked you up and down in the mirror and then pecked your neck “I finally have you for good now” you gave him a dumbfounded look and it only made him chuckle, moving his hands up and down your slightly swollen belly “We’re having a baby YN, a little you and me” your hands begin to shake and he reached over to hold them “Everything is gonna be alright love, it’s all gonna be alright”

He was interrupted from his thoughts when the door opened and soft footsteps made it’s way closer to him, looking up to see his daughter rubbing her eyes and yawning “Hi daddy” he grinned while opening his arms wide, waiting for her to hop into his arms “Hello ladybug, what are you doing up aye?” “I had a dream about mummy, she was singing to me, I wanted to come tell you” he held his baby tight in his arms, not wanting to let her go even more after hearing her confession, she was one of very few things left in the world to remember you by, he obviously had to get rid of your clothes because of Grace, donating them to the local shelters, your jewelry going to Ada, all he had left were two photos and his daughter Tulip Esmeralda, she was the spitting image of you, eyes, hair texture, even your cute high pitched laugh, now that you were gone she was his main priority in this life, sure he cared for Grace, she was beautiful and sweet enough, but she wasn’t you, and especially not his little Tulip, often putting her first which she understood completely, still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“Mummy sounded beautiful didn’t she, love” “Yes dad, just as pretty as she is” he held in his tears and gave her a big kiss on the cheek, she then got down from his lap and kissed his cheek before going to leave “Going so soon, you just got here?” “I just wanted to tell you that daddy, don’t you wanna hear about what mummy is doing in heaven?” He nods and smiles “Course I do” “She loves me and you daddy, the angels are taking care of her...night night!” She runs off back to bed, leaving the door wide open “Night night” he shouts back.

He sits there for a while then hears another pair of footsteps, heavier ones than ones of a seven year old “Thomas?” Grace is standing at the door, wrapping her robe tightly around her “What are you doing up?” She enters the office but he holds a hand up to stop her “It’s alright, I’m coming back to bed, feeling a little drowsy now” she gives him a little smile and he gets up to walk her out “Was that Tulip I heard earlier?” “Yep, she was coming to tell me that she saw YN again” she nods and clears her throat, as hard as she tried to hide her discomfort, it was all over her face, just when she thought that he finally had you out of his system, here came his daughter to place you back in, it wasn’t enough that she had to look at your portrait everyday on the wall next to the staircase, you, him and baby Tulip, he couldn’t bring himself to take that down as well.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, she forces a smile and shakes her head “Nothing, it’s wonderful that she remembers her mum” “Seriously what’s wrong?” Grace sighs and closes the door, this was it, she couldn’t hold back anymore, she knew she would sound like unsympathetic but it was how she felt “Why did you love her more than she loved you?” “Excuse me?” She kept her composure, not wanting to back down so soon “You wanna know who I ran into today in town? David Mills, you know, her ex fiancé...Well we talked, had a deep conversation, mostly about YN, how you framed him for treason and gotten him banned from the United Kingdom for three years, he knew you had something to do with it but could never prove it, and when he returned from America he discovered that YN had moved on, you both had gotten married and Tulip was already like what, two years old? You wanna know what else he told me Thomas? He told me that YN had wrote to him during those years he had been away, she was very much still in love with him, but felt trapped because she had your baby and knew you’d never let her go” “That’s not true” “It very much is, it’s been that way ever since you both were teenagers, she could never break from your chain Thomas you were always-“ she yelped when he slammed his fist up against the wall beside her head, he gripped her jaw and made her look at him “Every time we fuck all I see is her, I see YN, I have to hold myself back from calling her name to not hurt your feelings, don’t think for ONE second that just because I married you that my love for her lessened, it will be her till the day I die, all that I own and posses in this world will go to my daughter when I pass on, all that I’ve earned and built was for our family together, and now that she’s gone the next thing close to her is our child, every single cent Grace, widows don’t always get everything...she’s a nice kid so she might be willing to share with you, consider yourself lucky of her generosity” he lets her go and opens the door and storming out, leaving her there speechless, she lets out a little weep and covers her mouth to muffle her cries.

All this time she’d been jealous of you because of the adoration he held for you, the attention he gave to you, from the outside looking in you were the luckiest girl to have Thomas Shelby wrapped around your finger, her jealousy now turned to pitty, you had no choice but to be his favorite person, you were stuck and trapped up until your last day on Earth, your last day of life would be your only chance of freedom, love really does blind you, it made her miserable and him insane, and poor little Tulip is now the only thing keeping him semi stable, Grace thanks her lucky stars for that kid right now.

...

“Daddy?” “Shh go to sleep my love” “Okay” “Oh, and Tulip” “Yes daddy?” “If mummy visits again tell her that I love her okay” “Okay dad” He smoothes her hair away from her face and watches her drift off to sleep, he looks over to see one of the two pictures of you on her nightstand, “I love you Mrs. Shelby” he whispers, and for a second he could swear he can see you smile wider in the photo.

[ofbuffoon-blog]

hhhhhhhhowdy ! my name is amanda ( 18 , she/they & est ) and I just recently finished watching the society and it .............. fucked me up???? grizz ?? has my whole heart ?? but yeah !! I’ll keep this short : I live to play the sims, I have 2 cats + 4 rats and I love to take naps. oh !! and I’m super excited to be a part of this rp and to meet all of you and your characters !!

there’s info on my lil evie spencers under the cut as well as some wanted connections at the end. it is quite lengthy + I apologize but her past section especially got kind of long so I made a SHORTER VERSION if you don’t want to read all of it :~) I also have a BIO + STATS page up if you want to check those out .

( HALSTON SAGE / TWENTY-TWO / SHE & HER ) ─ EVIE SPENCERS was seen at the church after the bus dropped us off, right? SHE is known by others as THE BUFFOON because of her HUMOROUS & KINDHEARTED ways, but people also say she’s LOUD & SARCASTIC. maybe that’ll change once she figures out what’s going on with the town she called home. EVIE only went on the trip because SHE WANTED TO GET AWAY FROM HER MOTHER, so god knows how she feels now. BELLY LAUGHTER, MAKING SILLY FACES TO CHEER SOMEONE UP & HOT CHOCOLATE WITH BIG MARSHMALLOWS can’t help them now… so for the time being, welcome to the unnamed.

PAST

born & raised in oldvale + the younger of 2

evie and her family were always tight ; father was as nurse & mother was an animator for an up and coming series on youtube and they were heads over heels in love with each other

her mother was always quite a strict parent. she tended to call herself the “bad guy” when she would say no to things & her father would say yes. her father, on the other hand, was more laid back. never took anything too seriously and had the ability to make someone smile with a single look ----- needless to say : evie took after her father. her mother even called her her father’s “mini me”

evie was a good girl. got good grades and never disobeyed her parents. she always apologized after having an argument with her sister and simply “ agreed to disagree ” instead of continuing

everything changed when, at age 15, evie got a phone call from a police officer in the middle of recess. she and her sister got to the hospital as soon as they could to meet the officer. to their shock and heartbreak, there was a car accident that involved their  parents and a drunk driver that hit them head on. they were in the emergency room for what seemed like an eternity. finally, the doctor came out and told her that her mother was going to be fine but --- her father was in critical condition. and that she and her sister should go in and say their good-byes. and so they did

everything seemed different after her dad’s passing. the air in their house was ... heavier. evie’s sister went through multiple depressive episodes and her mother started to drink more & evie heard her crying during the night ; honestly, she wasn’t sure if her mother was getting any sleep at all. you even once heard her speaking to a higher being. she said : “why him? why not me?” which absolutely broke evie’s heart

her mother was never the same after her love died. it was like a piece of her went with him. she was constantly on her daughter’s backs ; yelling and getting angry when things wouldn’t get done her way. she even went as far as to slapping evie’s older sister across the face when she tried standing up for them. it got to a point where evie was afraid of her mother

despite everything, evie stayed the same. she was still humorous and tried to keep the mood light. she did this as a way of honoring her father, in a way. to keep his silliness alive. sometimes it got on peoples nerves but she didn’t care. not one bit

in school, evie was pretty popular. not in a “ queen b ” sort of way but more like .... she was friends with everyone and never really fit in with just one clique. she loved this & loved being able to have a solid circle of friends

criminology was something that always interested evie & she spent countless hours watching true crime + missing persons cases. it was actually what evie ended up going to university to study

^^ but evie’s mother had a very set image of what she wanted to see her daughters do. she would always try to control every aspect of their life ; the clothes they wore, how they spoke, the activities they took part in. she even went as far as to picking jobs for them to choose from which was 1) doctor or nurse, 2) dentist or orthodontist or 3) a teacher which neither sibling wanted to do and when they told their mother, she was legit distraught. so much so that she threatened to kick them out. and so, evie allowed her mother to control her life. it wouldn’t be forever, after all

evie actually snuck behind her back and applied for a criminology major in university & she never told her mother about it. the whole time, her mother thought she was going to school to become a teacher

the last thing she told her mother was: “stay safe while we’re gone.”

PRESENT

not a day goes past that evie doesn’t think about her parents

she constantly makes jokes to keep everyone from being too afraid or panicking

evie also is trying to set up a “ game day ” to relief some stress ; some people don’t think it’s a good idea but she does

she ........... is very upset about being away from her mother. yes - part of her loathed her mother for trying to take control of her life but the woman was still her mother ; someone who lost the love of their life and evie couldn’t blame her mother for the way she changed. she wishes so badly to just hold her mother and apologize and thank her for everything she’d done

every night, evie has these “ talks ” with her father. she’ll just lay in bed and pretend she’s talking to her father ; talk about her day, how things are going. she even sometimes asks him if he knows where they are & how they all got there in hopes of hearing some kind of answer. but she never does

OTHER INFO

PINTEREST BOARD

evie was actually named after the pokemon : eevee .... because her father was a DIE HARD fan of the game but they had to make the spelling acceptable so "evie” it was

bisexual | enfp | ravenclaw | true neutral

pos traits : humorous, kindhearted & welcoming  neg traits : loud, sarcastic & clumsy

WANTED CONNECTIONS

best friends :: someone evie can trust ; someone who she can’t imagine her life without

enemies :: someone who gets on evie’s nerves ; someone who has a mutual disliking

crushes :: someone who gives evie butterflies ; someone who she wants to kiss

past hook ups :: someone evie has slept with ; someone she probably tries to avoid

fwb :: someone evie sleeps with occasionally

literally anYTHING AT ALL

annnnnnnd yeah ??? sorry this got so long omfg fdjkgsd ; hit me up if you feel like plotting with my babycakes , mwah

[master-sass-blast]

Alright. @mooleche​ done did throw the gauntlet down.

And, because I am an Aries and THIS IS MY SEASON, I can’t not answer.

So, here is OC stuff list one for Miss Dakota Contreras.

She’s beauty, she’s grace, and she will KICK YOUR ASS.

*cracks knuckles* Alright. Les do this.

[Incoming trigger warnings for: mentions of rape, kidnapping, death, parental abuse, and running away. She had a rough go of it as a kid.]

Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?: Dakota does come from a decently sized family, but she isn’t particularly close with any of them. The only exception is her elder sister, Maria, whom she occasionally meets up with for a cup of coffee.

What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?: Largely estranged. Dakota ran away to her grandmother’s home as a young teen after an extremely traumatic incident (which I will explain more in the next question’s answer) and after her mother (and her father) made minimal effort to see if she was alright, she decided they weren’t worth her time and wrote them off.

What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?: Extremely estranged. (Traumatic incident explanation coming in, includes trigger warnings for rape, kidnapping, running away, death, and parental abuse.) So, when Dakota was thirteen, she was kidnapped by her eldest brother’s friends and, unfortunately, raped by several of them. After managing to kill one of them in self-defense, she escaped and ran back home, only to be rebuffed by her father. He refused to believe her, then went as far as to blame her for the incident. Subsequently, Dakota ran away the next night to her grandmother’s home. Since she was the “rebel” child, her parents decided to wash their hands of her and just send the rest of her stuff to her grandmother’s place. Dakota hasn’t spoken to her father since.

Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?: Seeing the body of the guy she killed (in self-defense) after she was raped definitely changed her on a deep level. It subdued the wilder parts of her personality, caused her to largely shut herself off from the world and everyone in it. Her grandmother knows, as does her sister Maria, and Frank (Castle, yes, she’s paired up with him, and yes, I have a problem shut up), and that’s about it. Technically, her parents know as well, but she doesn’t count them since they abandoned her when she needed them most.

On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?: Cellphone, earbuds, loose change that she keeps forgetting to put in a jar, little pack of Kleenexes.

Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?: She’ll dream that she’s back in her old room or back on her grandmother’s farm, but that’s about it as far as “recurring” goes.

Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?: Obviously, a lot of the night she was raped and forced to kill to defend herself, but she also dreams about being locked in the house she grew up in and being unable to escape.

Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?: Yes. She helped hunt when she lived on her grandmother’s farm. The first targets were old cans or paper targets, to make sure she could actually hit something. After that, it was mostly rabbits or deer.

Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?: Yes, very. She didn’t grow up super poor, but money was definitely tight growing up. Now, as a professional MMA fighter, she makes a lot more money than she ever had growing up.

Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?: She genuinely doesn’t care one way or another. She has to wear a sports bra style top and a pair of shorts in a ring, with cameras pointed at her, so she really isn’t fazed by being seen in more or less. As long as she’s comfortable, she’s good.

In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?: The grand, obvious answer is the night she was raped, but it’s true. She was scared out of her mind, and there’s nothing she’s faced since that’ll scare her more.

In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?: Arguably, the moment she caught Frank Castle snooping around in her apartment. She already knew his reputation --and that she didn’t have anything going on that would put her on his ‘bad’ list--so there wasn’t really anything to be scared of, in her mind.

Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?: Nope. MMA fighter. Blood kinda comes with the territory.

Does your character remember names or faces easier?: Names. She sees a lot of faces, but she’s learned from experience that forgetting the wrong names can spell t-r-o-u-b-l-e, so she made a point to make sure she remembered names not matter what.

Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?: Nope. She thinks there’s security in living within one’s means --and, since she lives on her own and mostly avoids the “party life,” there isn’t much she needs.

Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?: Neither. Neither’s going to get you anywhere if you don’t have the drive to do anything with them.

What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?: Her eldest brother’s “legit” punching bag. Her love for fighting started young.

Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?: Ambition. Wisdom is something that’ll come with time, but not everyone has ambition.

What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?: She tends to keep her private life very secret, which can make her a difficult person to get to know --and be hard on the partner in question, since she’ll run the end of keeping them completely secret from her fans and the news. Her schedule requirements --training, traveling for fights, etc--can be hard to deal with, as well. So far, that’s been the biggest bone of contention in her previous relationships.

In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?: She genuinely doesn’t. As far as she’s concerned, it doesn’t matter who she sizes up against if she can’t fill her own shoes.

If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?: She’s... quick to go and put on her gloves so she can maul her punching bag for a bit to sweat her anger out. After that? She’s usually got a pretty level look at things --but, she is a little faster to blame others. After being blamed for her own kidnapping and rape by her parents/father, she’s wary of taking shit that isn’t hers to own.

What does your character like in other people?: Ambition, sense of humor, grit, willingness to stand up for others.

What does your character dislike in other people?: Cowardice, close-mindedness, arrogance, judgmental behavior.

How quick is your character to trust someone else?: Like, with super personal stuff? Dakota’s the opposite of quick. She’s a tortoise. She’s a sloth. She’s a fucking snail. She’d rather do a day full of interviews than open up quickly. Stuff that she classifies as basic (are you gonna be a decent fucking human being sorta shit) depends entirely on the person’s reputation. She’s usually pretty reserved, but if she knows someone’s worth their word (or, case in point, she knows the Punisher is going to be a rapist, which is the only reason she doesn’t whack him over the head with a bat when he breaks into her apartment) or if someone’s in with someone she trusts, she’ll roll with them. The two exceptions to this all being: 1.) if she knows she’s really helping someone by opening up (like talking about her experiences as a bisexual woman of color helps other members in the queer community) or 2.) if she’s working with kids. Dakota’s a firm believer that if you’re an asshole to kids, you deserve whatever shit comes your way.

How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?: Despite the fact that she trusts at the speed of a glacier, she’s not overtly paranoid. If she sees something suspect, she files it away and sits back to watch and see what comes of it (if something’s a big red flag, she’ll make more drastic moves, though). Chances are, if she knows someone, she’s already figured them out well enough to know what she ought to worry about and not, so yeah.

How does your character behave around children?: She treats them with the utmost respect. Eye contact, clean language, encouragement and praise, thoughtful answers, happy smiles, the whole nine yards.

How does your character normally deal with confrontation?: Depends on the situation. Normal stuff (or, later, “Frank stuff”) gets handled with a calm voice and a cool head because, to her, it’s not worth freaking out about because freaking out won’t change anything. If it relates to her parents? She’ll dodge it to the end of time. She wants nothing to do with them. Ever. If someone’s being an asshole (ie someone’s saying something homophobic or a someone’s beating up on their date)? You can meet her the fucking pit. Right now, actually. Oh, you weren’t ready? Too bad.

How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?: If it’s something that can be talked about, not very. If it’s on her “meet you in the pit list” there is only one stop, and it is violence.

What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?: Dakota wanted to be a rockstar as a kid. So, no, that dream didn’t come true, but she’s not displeased with where she ended up, necessarily.

What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?: Locker room talk and guys that don’t at least rinse off once they’re done working out.

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.: Either in the ring, smashing someone’s lights out, or in her apartment, watching Netflix. No in between.

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.: Specifically, when she has to do interviews or panel interviews. She doesn’t like being on the spot.

In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?: Her job hinges on taking criticism and being willing to improve. You can’t be a top-slot MMA fighter and not take criticism.

Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?: She’ll keep trying the first method a few times, but if it’s the method that’s ineffective, she’ll trade it out for something else.

How does your character behave around people they like?: She relaxes and actually gets more quiet. When she’s around people she likes, the persona she puts on during interviews completely goes out the window.

How does your character behave around people they dislike?: She usually pulls a full Bianca Del Rio. Nonstop reads/roasts, throwing shade left and right, usually doing whatever she can to make her feelings one hundred percent clear. If she’s really pissed at someone, though, she’ll glare them down and move past reading to just psychologically destroying them.

Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?: Dakota’s pretty ambivalent about both. As far as she’s concerned, her reputation and actions speak for themselves.

Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?: Depends entirely on the problem/threat. If it’s related to her family, she removes herself. If it’s anything else, she usually removes it or has it removed.

Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?: Nope.

How does your character treat people in service jobs?: With the utmost respect, dammit. Best manners, eye contact, patience, good tips, the whole nine yards. People in service jobs are like kids; if you treat them like shit, you deserve whatever comes your way.

Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?: Dakota’s all about earning it. A treat here and there is fine, but having everything handed to you on a platter just makes you lazy.

Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?: Nope. The only person outside her parents who ever raised her was her grandmother --who is, obviously, related to her.

Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?: Again, nope. Her job/life make that kind of impossible.

How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?: Not hard, but she won’t say it if she doesn’t mean it.

What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?: Dakota’s an agnostic, so she’s not entirely sure what’ll happen to her. She’s more worried about suffering in death than actually dying, though.

[aerialflight]

Thor Ragnarok (Time Travel)

Notes: I literally wrote this all in one go. The idea was inspired due to @adelmortescryche ‘s influence and I still can’t believe I wrote this to be honest. I had a lot of fun doing it though! I hope you all enjoy and comment or reblog at the end!

AO3

Tony was so fucking tired that it’s impressive that he was still awake at all.

After putting a lock on Loki who looked contrite at being caught and not, you know, trying to take over the world, the Avengers – a name that they’re sticking to no matter how comic-book based it sounded – had a grim Thor and disgruntled Hulk looking after him since Loki seemed oddly wary of the big green guy. Which, of course, should be utilized at all cost.

After they took care of that mess, they got to the slow labor part of the job. Of being superheroes.

What even was his life anymore these days?

Anyway, by this point he was running on adrenaline and sharp urgency that drove him to broken buildings that had people crushed under the debris of battle, directing people to hospitals, or reuniting families that weren’t together during the alien attack on New York.

And wow, that’s a sentence he never thought would cross his mind out of a sci-fi movie. This was so not how he wanted to be first introduced to legit aliens.

Tony pushed forward though, backed up by Captain America and Black Widow who proved to be soothing presences to the mass of people frantically trying to go home or find their loved ones in this whole doomsday scenario gone very wrong that turned out semi-alright in the end.

He ended up lugging Hawkeye around periodically as the man’s bird-eye view (ha!) sharply picked out which areas of the city they circled around needed help. Telling this information through the coms to the rest of the team had them quickly operating on an efficient system that worked out well for them. Something that surprised Tony for all their rocky starts and issues with each other as a unit.

Well, he figured, there were some things you couldn’t share without ending up liking each other, and stopping an alien invasion was one of them.

The process took hours and by the time the situation was well-handled by the police who could take care of the rest, Tony was ready to collapse the moment he landed with Hawkeye in his arms towards the group all gathered in the middle of a broken street under an equally wrecked lamppost that was crookedly bending in the wrong direction.

Thor and a now haggard looking Bruce Banner were there too, Loki hazardously thrown over Thor’s shoulder like a body bag. The almost-conqueror now conquered was glaring heatedly at them all, not talking due to-

“Is that duct tape?” Tony blurted out incredulously. Hawkeye choked next to him.

Bruce shrugged.

“Anything can be fixed with duct tape.” The scientist said mildly.

Thor nodded, the ridiculousness of the entire situation flying right over his head.

“The tool seemed quite necessary in this situation, as proven by Banner here,” Thor said seriously. “My brother possesses a silvertongue.”

“Yeah,” Natasha responded blandly. “We noticed.”

Cap sighed, looking fed up by the entirety of this conversation.

“Should we go back to the tower? SHIELD should be arriving in a couple of hours to receive Loki.” the blond frowned. “Though we’ll probably have to stick around and make sure that it happens.”

He really looked like he didn’t want to do it. Tony couldn’t really blame the old man. He just wanted to wash his hands off of this whole affair and get back to Pepper.

(God, Pepper. He had to call her soon or she’ll kill him for scaring her like that. He needed some sort of normalcy in this entire mess.)

“You know,” he started speaking without any real idea what was going to come out of his mouth. “I’m still really up for shawarma? Cause I’m craving for something right now and Pepper’s always telling me that I should eat before I sleep before I forget.”

Surprisingly, all of them agreed. Turns out punching extraterrestrials really worked up an appetite.

They ended up at a small, mostly ruined restaurant after the third try. The owners there just rolled with the fact they had the saviors of the city in their restaurant as if it were any other day to them.

You gotta love New Yorkers.

They ate in silence, Loki tussled up and left outside. By this point, Tony was pretty sure by now that if the bastard wanted to leave, he would’ve by now. But he didn’t, which was pretty worrying but so not Tony’s problem and he was perfectly fine with just, eating his meal in peace.

Of course, because the world loved to fuck over any good thing in Tony’s life, it didn’t last.

A bright light suddenly was bursting right in front of them, blazing hot and nearly blinding all of them in its close proximity. It slowly started to condense in on itself until it took actual shape into – what Tony belatedly realized – human form.

That’s it. He was done. He couldn’t take another hit right now.

Why did the universe hate him?

They all stood up, Cap jolting out of his nap and reaching for his shield while Natasha untangled herself from Hawkeye, both assassins getting ready. Bruce stood up, shoulders and mouth tight with worry. Nobody would want the Hulk to appear right now and escalate something, but he was preparing to defend them all the same. That kind of thing meant something and Tony couldn’t help be a bit proud. As for Thor, his eyes were darting immediately to the door where Loki was tied up outside, looking ready to attack first and ask questions later.

As for Tony, he cursed hard at the fact he had stupidly stripped himself off his armor. He couldn’t help it with the sense of claustrophobia that had his throat tightening at the thought of continuing to wear what he essentially almost died. He should’ve held on a little longer, should’ve been ready for anything even if it seemed like it all ended.

And Rhodey told him he was too paranoid. Ha!

Just when Tony was relatively sure they were all going to die, the glowing finally stopped and Tony’s brain impossibly stopped working.

It was Thor.

It was Thor?

Whoever it was, he looked an awful lot like him. Goldilocks was no more, his curling blond hair cropped short and revealing darker roots than Tony first believed. The red cape was gone and the man was instead wearing a practical brown cloak that was fraying at the edges and a giant traveling pack the man was slung over his shoulder with ease.

However, the two biggest differences sent a jolt of shock – see what he did there? – through his whole body right down to his toes.

One, Tony couldn’t see the ever-present hammer. Unless he was hiding it underneath the cloak or it was hidden somewhere in that bag, he had no idea.

Second, the man was wearing an eyepatch. And unless it was Halloween where Thor decided to cosplay as Nick Fury’s immortal cousin, this Thor most likely lost an eye at one point.

Seeing how the man was the God of Thunder and could match up to the Hulk, this was very concerning.

That is, if this really was Thor.

First thing this Thor said was, “Oh shit.”

The next thing was, “Is that shawarma?”

The ragged appearance of the man did nothing to erase the radiant grin he was now sporting as he casually walked toward the table full of armed Avengers and picked up a bowl of shawarma before taking a giant bite out of it.

Tony wasn’t even kidding. It looked like the man was unhinging his entire jaw as he bit it, completely undeterred by his baffled audience that included his gaping double.

“You have no idea,” The one-eyed Thor managed to say while chewing enthusiastically. “No idea how much I miss Misgardian food.”

And, well, what the hell were you supposed to say to that?

The shock was quickly wearing off of Thor now as he glared threateningly at the bizarre aberration that stood before them. He clenched onto his hammer and took a step forward.

“Loki, stop playing one of your games.” Thor ordered. A shiver ran down Tony’s neck at the God’s tone. Natasha was narrowing her eyes at the lopsided copy as if she was trying to figure something out.

He hoped she did soon. He worked too hard to stay alive today to die like this.

One-eyed Thor somehow managed to look completely unimpressed, raising an eyebrow and staring at Thor in a way that for some reason Tony couldn’t help but think meant, “Oh honey” which would’ve been a lot more hilarious under different circumstances. He had no idea the blond had it in him.

“You know as well as I do I’m not Loki.” One-eyed Thor waved his shawarma in a scolding manner at the other god. “You can sense magical signatures well enough. Calm down.”

“It can be faked.” Thor rumbled, irritation increasing with every gritted word.

“You know him well enough to tell.” The other Thor pointed out. He took another bite out of the wrapped up food.

“You’re from the future.” Natasha abruptly said. She was staring at him as if she didn’t know what to make of him. “Time travel?”

The man swallowed before beaming at her.

“Observant as always Natasha.” He said cheerfully.

Everyone blinked at the use of first name. It was strange to hear such familiar address from the overly-formal prince.

And then what Thor confirmed sunk in.

“Time travel?” Bruce was shaking his head furiously, looking about ready to blow a gasket. Tony couldn’t blame him, he felt like doing the same in the face of something so out there. And they just fought aliens. “That should not be possible.”

The other Thor smirked far too smugly. “Magic.”

“No.” Tony denied. And will continue to deny for the rest of his days, cause fuck that. “No, everyone knows that’s a fucking cheat answer and like hell I’m going to let you get away with that.”

“But it’s the truth?” this Thor widened his eyes, looking so confused and overly innocent that Tony instantly knew was Thor’s version of a shit-eating grin. Jesus, he could give 16-year-old Tony who was the biggest piece of shit there was a run for his money with that look. If Tony wasn’t so outraged by the topic, he’d almost be impressed.

He could definitely see himself get along with this version of Thor.

Cap was staring at one-eyed Thor with disbelieving eyes before finally closing them as if he was only now accepting how crazy his life was.

“Yeah, no dice.” Hawkeye looked far too amused by the situation now that it was clear they weren’t in danger, smirking with shoulders relaxed. “How did you get here?”

While the question was said nonchalantly, the archer was shifting his stance in a way where he was subtly glancing outside the shop to check up on their resident magician. Seeing if he really wasn’t playing a part in this madness.

The one-eyed Thor whether didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“An accident.” He shrugged. “Pissed off someone and ended up here. My ride should come soon and I’ll be out of here in a jiffy, don’t worry. Shouldn’t affect the space-time continuum too much. The guy who sent me here isn’t powerful enough to bend time to his will.”

“You’re using modern lingo.” Tony didn’t bother to try to hide his glee. “You said space-time continuum! Oh my god, you’re more ahead of the curb than Capsicle! Ha!”

Said mentioned man shot an exasperated look at the billionaire. “Stark.”

Before Cap could really get into it, a more minimized bright light suddenly shined right next to the other Thor before dimming down and making it clear who appeared this time.

Whatever lightened atmosphere resulted in clearing up the strange Thor’s presence immediately disappeared at the sight of the next visitor.

“What the fuck.” Hawkeye spat out, hand jerking for the bow. It vanished before it could and appeared in a sneering Loki’s hand, looking exactly the same as his other counterpart.

“If you don’t mind, I don’t want to get shot at. Again.” The criminal whipped his head around and glared at Thor’s doppelganger with extreme annoyance. “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” for the first time since he appeared, there was no sign of playfulness now. Long finished with his stolen meal, he set the bowl down in a decisive move before crossing his arms across his broad chest defensively. “It’s not like I was about to let you get hit.”

“I knew what I was doing.” This Loki hissed. For a brief moment that Tony almost missed, his green eyes flickered up and down Thor’s frame as if-

As if he was checking Thor for injuries.

The very implications were confusing, to say the least. He almost thought he imagined it if it weren’t for the subtle straightening of Natasha’s spine and the way her eyes widened just a fraction from surprise. Hawkeye followed his partner’s lead and his rage leveled down a notch as he seemed to catch it as well.

Assassins. Ugh.

“I’m fine.” The one-eyed Thor rolled his eye – as in singular, there had to be a story there – and jerked a thumb in the Avengers’ direction. “You can yell at me later.”

All that rage slowly seemed to disappear underneath a smooth, cool mask at the reminder. It was such a contrast to the spitting pile of uncontained, raging madness that Tony had come to expect from him that it was disconcerting. It was doubly so when it hit that Loki was actually listening to Thor.

From the dumbstruck look on Goldilocks’s face, this was just as weird to him too.

What the hell was going to happen in the future?

“Fine.” Loki sneered. “Now let’s leave-”

Suddenly, the door behind them banged open and just to pile up on this clusterfuck of chaos that had just been about to leave damnit, the Loki of their time stood there, somehow having broken out of his foot restraints with his mouth and hands still taped over.

“Mmmhmm Hmm!” the degraded Loki sounded out, scathingly glaring at them all.

The double Loki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while the one-eyed Thor starting laughing immediately.

“Oh god, I completely forgot about this!” the man exclaimed, absolutely delighted. “This is amazing!”

“I,” the more composed of the two Lokis sounded completely done. “regret everything that has led us to this point.”

Thor casually waved a hand at the Loki next to him while still staring gleefully at the seething, voice-muffled Loki in front of him.

“This all already happened brother.” Both past Loki and Thor stared in shock at the address, the former with horror and the latter with alighted hope. “Get over yourself.”

Captain America choked.

“Anyways,” the one-eyed man smiled at all of them as if the two hadn’t opened a hundred questions into the open with their existence. “it was nice to see you guys again and you won’t remember any of this, so don’t worry about us changing anything. Live your lives and I hope you get that Civil War business done soon or whatever. Raging fire,” the time traveler made honest-to-god finger guns and pointed both at Bruce with a cheeky grin. “I’ll see you on the ship.”

“Raging what-”

And as flashily as they appeared, they were gone in a flash.

Tony stared at the very spot they were just standing and turned to look at the others to share his confusion when-

The genius frowned.

What the hell were they all doing standing around? Weren’t they just eating a minute ago?

“Hey! How the hell is Reindeer Games here?”

[iphoenixrising]

Future!au continued

It’s been a hard few weeks, but I’m still alive. Please forgive the mistakes.

Dammit. He can see your boots, Dick.

Seriously.

**

Talking Bruce down out of riding to the Perch, tout-fucking-sweet takes an intense amount of effort. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

From his place on the ledge outside the window, Dick is watching to make sure nothing opens and no hint of past-Tim slips by while he adds his two cents when needed. He takes a stroll down once and a while, checking for a mop of hair peeking over the curtain rod.

“I disagree.” Is definitely echoing, so B’s moved down to the Cave, “the more we have on our side to keep him in one location—”

“I do not believe more is better in this instance, Father,” Dami counters tiredly, swaying slightly on his feet. He feels somewhat better after a fast shower, but the weight of the last two nights is starting to wear on Baby Bat.

“Lookit, Bruce. When we say he ain’t in a good place, that’s not any kind of exaggeratin’,” Jason fills in.

“My point exactly, Jay, even more of a reason—“

“Think about it. If we give ‘im better toys n’ intel, then he’s gonna stay in the Perch with moderate bitching. So’s we need you ta work on gettin’ something that ain’t gonna give Timmers more about the future than he needs ta know, yeah?”

The obvious pause is B starting to reason through it all.

“Besides, once we ‘re sure Timmy’s run factor has decreased, you’ll have everything we need ready,” Dick placates on the way back to the window, waving a voila hand as he crouches down again, arms akimbo on the sill.

It takes Bruce a minute to think through his usual amount of contingencies. He already has access to all the security camera in the Perch (you know, Ra’s and such) on the back-up system he’s accessing via Tim’s laptop, conveniently open and ready, at his workstation in the Cave, which is probably the only reason B is any kind of okay without how this is going to go and not already knocking on their front door.

(Because of course their Tim knew. He’s already here as living proof.)

Apparently stuck in the BatCave, he feels slightly better pacing between Tim’s workstation and the big computer booting up after everything hit. Clark is forlornly floating by the big screen, laptop on his knees to log into the JLA archive listing.

“The only problem is I’m going to need time to fix the BatComputer before I can get you anything good. The power surge last night killed my system, and I didn’t get any alerts until a few minutes ago when the usual scans didn’t run on time. The back-up for the main body of BI and Security are running through O, but still, the sooner I’m back online, the better.” At least he can calm down slightly because if they’re Tim knew he’d be thrown into time, he would already have plans on how to be stuck in the past. Nothing immediately comes to mind, so it’s possible the time stream hasn’t caught up yet to cause any noteable differences (but, like Barry had told him once years ago, every foray into time has a consequence).

The Red Robin laptop has the permissions he needs to access some of the older data concerning their own universe and how the time streams can be manipulated without breaking anything (Barry). He can get to exactly what folders and files he needs, but it doesn’t escape B’s notice the permissions are keeping him off one virtual server, the one usually housing certain ghost drives. So, any plans concerning said time travel tech is going to be annoyingly absent

(Well played, Tim. You want this to take some time in the past, do you?)

In mid-town, it’s Damian swearing hotly. (Tim and Father together would never allow the BatComputer to be vulnerable from any external sources—)

Which is very large indicator for sabotage and hints how obviously their Tim knew about the event and apparently made contingencies for it.

The three Bats exchange a knowing look.

“We still have plenty of resources even if the BatComputer is down,” B placates, and diverts the path slightly to rise up on his bare toes and look over Clark’s shoulder at the current listing the reporter is scrolling through. “But this is going to take me hours once I start, so it’ll have to wait until we have something useful to get Tim back to his correct time.”

Another exchange because the BatComputer being down only means B is vulnerable without the usual scans and alarms. No one is comfortable with that possibility (not taking into account the absurd amount of people that know where it is anyway). Dick sighs from his spot because one of them is going to have to go down and lend a hand. He’s thinking they should rock-paper-scissors for it.

“J’onn is in the WatchTower if we need to get into the JL’s locked vaults,” Is Clark from the background, “three of us have to be there to open it, and who knows? We might have something in the archive that won’t give Tim too many ideas about the future.”

“True. All right then you three, I need a time frame,” and B still sounds a little less like the night, meaning he’s concerned (because, you know, BatDad). “Get me his year, and I’ll have something in a few hours, regardless.”

“There, that’s going to be more helpful than throwing things at him faster than he can process,” Dick is already making plans before he stands back up on the ledge, makes his way back down to the bathroom again so he can make sure Tim hasn’t used the vents to his advantage.

Jay leans over the table, closer to the system, stretching out the tight muscles in his back. “‘Sides, we ain’t been able ta pin our Timmy down yet, B. No comm, phone, the works. Mighta gone ta the past, but we need some confirmation, you feel me?”

“Titans Tower also picked up preliminary data on the surge, which is my theory for the record.” Dami checks his phone again, but no updates from Garfield or Rachel (they are, however, invested in seeing their time-traveler. They may or may not take his firm no).

“Good, we can use the intel.” B takes a second to lay his forehead on the nape of Clark’s neck, close his eyes, get a breath.

Dammit, Tim. Trying to keep the temptation at a minimum. Because the World’s Greatest Detective could save the family, all of his boys, so much pain just with a few careful words—

Maybe he had known from the start.

Juggling his significant other and his laptop, Clark isn’t even a little surprised how easy Bruce makes it to lay a palm down and work some of the tension out of tight tendons. He’s scanning everything from confiscated possessed roller skates to some magical cat statue Constantine swears is legit. He is going to talk with their tech people about more…organized filtering because categories like we’re not sure what this does shouldn’t be used in their archives.

When Bruce raises his head enough to press his mouth gently over Clark’s pulse, it makes a shiver roll up his spine, but B is already off to start jumping into Tim’s system while long lines of code run on the big screen.

“Any footage could tell us if Tim got switched with his younger counterpart, so let me know when you’ve got something. In the meantime, send me the month and year. I’ll find something Tim can use.” He takes a second and looks over at the speakerphone, his sigh soft and fond. “I’m here if you need anything. All of you know that, right?”

“I am fairly certain we do, Father, as it is immensely convenient to have Batman on speed-dial. A few hours at best is all we are asking. Allow us time to get him acclimated.”

“I understand, Son. No hovering.” Yet.

It makes Jason bark out a laugh and go stir his soup. It’s a natural thing to slide a chair out with his ankle on the way, get a hand hold of Baby Bat’s worn t-shirt, and slide his tired ass down where he can lay himself on the table and doze if need be.

“No lecturing either, B,” is called from over a shoulder, “we’ll catch ya up in a few hours.”

“Eat something. Try to sleep in shifts if you can,” is completely serious and very not asking. “Love you, boys.”

“We love you as well, Father.”

“Ditto, B.”

The dial tone sounds for less than a second and Jason sighs, running a hand down his face, his muscles tight with everything, with Tim, a Tim they can’t touch enough, a Tim they can’t help put back together, a Tim they can’t try to save.

And it fucking guts him.

Dami does the only thing he can. He slides silently to his feet, moves swift and silent to wrap his arms around Jason’s hips to lay his forehead between the tight muscles of those shoulders, gives them both a minute to breathe.

“Go and shower,” Dami tells him softly. “No masks, no suits. We make Tim comfortable as we are able.”

He puts the spoon down and covers the lightly simmering soup, turns the fire off. All mundane until he turns abruptly, reaches out an arm, and pulls Dami hard against him, holds on tight. And the current Robin merely allows it, allows his boyfriend to do what he must, what will make him feel in control when they are essentially—

Powerless.

When he sees Dick peek back in, brows drawn in concern, Dami’s eyes slide to Jason and back to Dick. One eyebrow arches high, giving Dick all he needs to know in just one move.

Dami gets a half-grin and a nod in reply, a little message received.

While they could all do with a distraction in light of the visitor in their Perch, Damian merely sends Jason off to the shower, watches Dick strafe down the side of their building to meet him in the guest bathroom. He does so with complete confidence they will take care of each other, regain their strength, then return to help him deal with this Tim Drake, and he knows with an easy, small smile while he stirs the soup again and checks his data, washes out mugs and blatantly moves a photo of the four of them from the front of the refrigerator to the side, that when he is able to finally collapse, his tethers will keep him from falling too far.

**

He makes himself throw up the pill he’d taken in front of the versions of Robin, N, and Hood before he climbs out of the shower. He chooses a dark towel to dry off in case he gets things like, you know, blood on them or anything. Luckily, the cabinets are still stocked with supplies so he counts on his future self taking care of his own injuries.

(Natch)

Putting gauze pads back on the sore, cracked skin is just another type of contortion, getting enough covered to be on the train to just fine.

(The sensors in his suits Jason mentioned bother the fuck out of him.)

He gives his Red Robin tunic a longing look, but picks up everything to go back downstairs, use the facilities to fix his busted utility belt and throw the specialty cloth in a washing machine.

He has a moment.

A long moment.

The vent right by the dresser goes downstairs, bypasses the kitchen and living room completely so he wouldn’t even have to—

The knock on the window by the bed answers that question before he can even squat down to get the vent cover off. Dick is bending over to look at him through the glass like he knows exactly where Tim’s brain is. The masked vigilante holds up one finger, wags it side-to-side in an ah-ah-ah, then points to the closed door.

A muscle in Red’s jaw jumps, his eyes narrow on the vigilante.

Dick’s mouth quirks up to one side in a try me smirk.

It’s so familiar, a vestige from those good times sparring, solving cases, watching stupid movie, saving each other’s asses, and all of the in-between (the guy who was once his friend, his mentor, someone who would fucking catch him). It’s Dick that chose Damian as his Robin over him. An old ache that still hits him at odd moments when the idea of going back is a muscle memory of better fucking times. Things that aren’t there anymore.

The utility belt hanging from one hand gives a sharp noise, startling him out of his revere, making him get the fuck with it. He turns away from Dick and the vent, looking at the compartment he’d just busted and the inconsequential slice in his palm from clenching down too hard, pissed at himself and the situation he really doesn’t want any part of.

(At least he’s not a gun-toting Batman, right? Always a bright side.)

He doesn’t turn at the second, more rapid knock, doesn’t see concern drawing Dick’s brows in, just goes to the damn door with bare feet and clothes slightly too big for his frame, totally not focusing on how the Bats have taken something that’s (used to be? Time fuckery and such) his, his Perch, and commandeered it for their own purposes (no problem, didn’t need that cape anyway, right?).

Nope.

All good, nothing to see here.

When he opens the door, the boots outside the window walk off.

Damian is at the table in a pair of dark shorts and a Henley, hair still wet; he’s intent on the tablet he’s holding while Jason is nowhere to be seen.

The youngest Robin looks up immediately, those green eyes and stark Bruce characteristics in his older face still a jarring thing settling in, but Tim’s eyes look away before Damian’s expression gets softer, his eyes missing nothing.

“Bel— ah, Drake,” the youngest is on his feet, pushing the chair out.

“It’s fine,” he holds up the good hand, already on his way to the door downstairs, “I’ve got to get some maintenance done and start looking for a way back. Don’t let me—” keep you.

But it’s a crazy thing when Damian is just right there so fast, his eyes wide, and a hand so much bigger than Red remembers wrapped around his bicep, stopping him before he gets halfway across the room.

“But a moment, Tim—“

Is completely lost because the instincts don’t fail him, still read watch your ass when his suit and sundries drop, his body moving to grip the wrist and prep for a nerve-strike of epic proportions.

(Because he and Dami? Not good. Even if this one doesn’t seem eager to watch him fall to his death or stab him with pointy things, he still has to go with what he knows.)

He’s only stopped by the fact Damian just goes with it, lets him trap the arm with an expression so full of calm and something like trust, Tim’s arm halts mid-strike and he literally can’t go through with it.

“I am sorry,” Damian immediately placates, down on his knees with an arm twisted in Red’s grip, “I should not have surprised you, and I am sorry, Tim. Please forgive me in this.”

Fucking what now?

He drops Damian’s wrist like it fucking burns, steps back with wide eyes, and a surprising urge to throw up (again). The small shot of adrenaline hits his system without an outlet, making his hands shake just a little—

(just enough for Dami to notice)

—because everyone has limitations, and he? Is no exception to that rule.

But he’ll be damned if he lets the demon of all people know that.

(Maybe that whole ‘eight hours of sleep before dabbling in time travel’ would be a good idea.)

“It’s…” he glances away, teeth bared at himself, “it’s my bad. I shouldn’t have jumped you.”

Damian doesn’t move as Red gathers up the pieces of his suit again, but those eyes miss nothing.

“I’m going down—”

“You are injured,” smoothly interrupting, Damian holds up his wrist to show the smear of blood left on his forearm and rises to his feet slowly to give Timothy every indication of his movements, “something easily fixed, Tim—ah, Drake.”

“It’s fine,” he starts out, his too-long hair covering his eyes. “I mean it’s just a scratch—”

Hands gently take the balled-up uniform out of his grip, “and yet, your immune system is still compromised and overworked. It would be appropriate to make certain it has no other obstacles affecting your health. I am certain you would rather be at peak than fighting off infection.”

It’s not snarky and demeaning like he expects, but an easy observation, one that makes him finally look over at the bigger, broader Robin and something else that makes his chest a little tight and his skin warm. It’s something that might set off a few receptors in his brain because the danger warnings might go down. Or not. It’s 50/50 really.

Easy, like he’s being absurdly careful, Damian takes his wrist in a light grip, and holds up the hand for inspection.

(If he even knew what was going on under the t-shirt, he’d know why the immunities are fucked.)

“This will take only a moment. Indulge me?”

And with Damian asking, being really nice by, you know, not trying to kill him or anything, Red can’t find it in him to say get fucked. Instead, he breathes slowly and assesses, trying to keep the irritation down to a minimum. His silent is taken as concession.

He sits down at the table gingerly, ready to jump at the next second, watching Damian move around the kitchen with a disturbing familiarity. His eyes flicker over to the tablet still moving with updating numbers, but forces his eyes away, keeping back from anything he might learn that could possibly collapse the universe or something.

He stares down at the table instead, hand palm-up while the big first aid kit he keeps under the sink in his own time seems to have grown into a tackle box full of fast and furious fix-it.

He doesn’t watch the antiseptic wipe swiping over his heartline or the gauze pad against the small slice, reaches for tape only to have Damian get to it first, those eyes intent on the barely noticeable injury.

“This isn’t necessary, you know,” he tries hesitantly, the calm concern on Damian’s face making him slightly...uncomfortable.

The current Robin hums back at him, unconcerned.

And that’s where they’re at when noise down the hall is the return of Jason and Dick from the Guest Room, the latter with a towel over his damp hair, the two of them talking quietly before they reach their visitor.

“Fuck that was good,” Jason gives a watered-down version of his usual sly smirk to the older vigilante, “blew my mind, Baby Boy.”

“You’re not the only one with a dirty mouth, Jay Bird,” Dick smirks back from under the towel, his bare upper body moving smoothly while he dries his hair, shirt over one shoulder. Getting in the guest bathroom window and naked had been something more primal than Dick wants to admit since suprise sex really isn’t par for the course when things like time/space visitors are on their proverbial doorstep, but Dick had felt so fucking raw when he got a load of that old version of Tim, something he missed during his time getting back to his Nightwing days, and Jay seemed to understand the need for intimacy, not even questioning it while the water washed over them both.

And the fact Dami asked without asking, knew both of them needed the distraction to stay ahead of the emotions, to try keeping some kind of distance is just another quirk they need to keep Tim from noticing.

(Because they’ve got a broken bird in their house, one they can’t fucking fix since that would potentially change the future. It’s helplessness and the drive to want do something that makes all the frustration need to be...handled before they can face him again. In some ways, it helps them to put back on the neutral faces, to keep them from reaching out too far.)

“Gotta keep provin’ it, yeah? Got me right where ya wanted, Dickie.”

“I know your weaknesses, and a good blow job is just one of the many.” Dick comes back smartly, but it’s lacking some of his usual panache.

“Don’tcha evah let Mask know that shit. Don’t wanna have baddies lining up ta suck me off.” Jason tries to keep up the banter, even when his battered hands work at his sides, flexing, clenching, keeping himself from reaching.

A slight laugh, still a little off his game, “You know, that might be a better weapon in your extensive arsenal of crime fighting, Little Wing.”

“That’s fuckin’ sick shit, Dick.”

“Wow, really? With a mouth like yours, I’m going to take that as an achievement.”

The two pause at the scene across the room. Even though they’d been preparing for it, knew what was waiting for them to face without a cowl and multiple options, it still tugs at them, this reminder of where they all used to be.

(Giving Dami a few extra minutes to ease Timmy down had been a good idea after all.)

A younger, more worn Tim Drake with hand extended sits on the edge of his seat, a cold example of fight or flight. His suit is lying out on the back of a kitchen chair with the usual sundries (and a compartment in the utility belt is busted, gleaming in the overhead light), but the two of them stop because they get a real look under the mask.

He’s not filling out the clothes of his older self, thinner and worn, the bones in his face sharp and cutting, framed by too-long hair. The tight flex of his muscles give an idea of how tense he holds himself, a trap ready to spring.

Dick breathes in slowly through his nose, a hand worming around to pat Jay on the wrist.

The two move again just as Tim’s head snaps over, eyes already narrowed, ready for the next fight to come his way.

(The comparison is unconscious, thinking about their Tim and how he has laugh lines, how his muscles go pliant in their hands, how the calculating look melts away when it’s time to let go of the mask.)

He’s half-risen out of his chair on instinct, sinking back down when he realizes he’s not going to have to defend himself in the immediate future. (Maybe.)

Damian finishes up and closes the kit. He might squeeze Tim’s fingers unconsciously before he releases the hand completely.

“Feel better, Timmy?” Dick asks cheerfully, dropping his towel on top the washing machine as they make themselves at home in the kitchen.

Red notices it all, his mind filling in how comfortable they are here as Jason pointedly grins at him and walks around the table to the food he has ready and warming so he doesn’t walk behind the skittish former Robin.

“Fine,” he remarks while Damian moves to put the first aid kit back. “Thanks for letting me use this as a temporary nest.” A glance down at his wrist computer and he’s still got—

Fucking nothing.

Dammit. The coordinates aren’t plotting correctly, and without that little factor, he’s pretty well fucked. The amount of re-coding and configuring the computer for the future is going to be hours’ worth of work and fuck he’s just...tired.

But most times, there’s no rest for the weary. “I should get back to it. Time isn’t going to open up and just, you know, let me go back. There’s still a lot I have to do.”

He doesn’t need to say, the less time here the better, but well, that should be pretty obvious at this juncture.

Jason surprises him by sliding a warm plate right under his nose, letting the panini take up his vision, and his stomach, the traitor, rolls with hunger.

“Ain’t gonna matter if ya take a minute n’ eat something, you feel me?”

Dick slides into his seat across the table, giving the illusion of space while not really giving any, “besides, you have to get some sleep first, remember?” And apparently Dick isn’t going to let that go of that any time soon. “If you want to finally tell me what time you’re from, B and Clark are going to hit the JL archives while you’re napping and try to find something about the device that brought you here. Schematics would make it a lot easier on you, right, Timmy?”

He blinks at the plate in front of his nose, his gaze automatically following it down to where Jason puts it on the table for him. His mouth waters a little and he really has no idea how long it’s been since he’s eaten anything (So...maybe they have a point).

Hesitantly, he looks up at the future Dick’s softly smiling face and haltingly gives the date in his own time, shoulders drawn up tight because it had been such a long fucking year.

Dick pauses, and the mental calculations are pretty obvious. What Red doesn’t expect, however, is Damian’s head to perk up or Jason to noticeably pause with a bowl of incredible smelling soup ready to put in front of him, too.

“Oh,” Dick’s voice is only a puff of air.

His head tilts quizzically because what? (It’s not like they would know the whole story. He hadn’t even told Kon and Bart all of it, fuck he’d never do that to them, never put that on anyone. Cassie got less than an hour span of time, and it did a number on her. Besides, it’s fine, really. It’s. Fucking. Fine. His fuck-up started it all, his mess, his fault because he’d thought he was so smart. Thought he had them when it was really the other way around…)

Jason swallows hard, eyes fluttering closed for just a second when he gets the year (Christ Timmy, Jesus H. Christ). Damian’s face falls in neutral lines, calm, cool, and collected.

“The Insurgent Crisis, right?” is all Dick has to say, drawing his eyes (well, he was Batman at one time, so he’d probably get some fucking memos about pain-in-the-ass alien invaders). “Tim, how long… how long has it been since you and the Titans came out of that fight?”

And no. No he doesn’t want to throw this down, doesn’t want them to know why he’s starting to feel like a heaping pile of sick sucks. Let him eat this tasty-looking (yes, he can fucking admit it even if Jason could have poisoned the fuck out of it) food and go the fuck downstairs where he doesn’t have to stare at their faces.

“Everyone hates alien dick bags,” he comes back lightly even though the bruises on his sides, the scars to his fucking brain from that whole debacle still make him want to scream just a little.

“S’at why yer feverin’?” Jason makes it a question because even though his mind is slightly still hazy going back that far and about some of the shit going down back then, he can remember Di talking ‘bout the aftermath and how fucked it was for alla ‘em, just trying ta keep standin’. ‘Course, his Timmy had talked about it through the years, only once and a while when he was pushing the edges of his endurance.  The set to this Timmy’s jaw, the twitch of his fingers, all of it like a roadmap, giving him more deets than Baby Bird probably wants them to have.

(Fine line yer walking, Timmers. The gun-totin’ Bats makes a helluva lot more sense, yeah?)

Keeping it calm, Jay finally puts the bowl down, makes himself keep moving to feed his other boys.

“It’s been a few days,” Tim admits grudgingly. “It’s…fucked-up timing, that’s all. I handled it—”

“We know you did, Hab—Tim,” Damian’s hand moves out of Tim’s sight, grips the back of Jason’s thigh when he puts plates down in front of him. “In time...you do tell us some details of that fight, so do not feel you must hold back. You may share whatever details you would like.”

“Excuse me, I what now?” And the horror, the utter fuckery that is the Mind Trap makes his hands clench with the memory, with the damage done to the Titans, with the possibility they might have to face those fuckers again in some unknown time period. “Do they hit Earth again?”

(He shouldn’t have even asked because he really shouldn’t get details of his future. That’s a bad time-travelling vigilante, bad. Still, the please, please, no is forefront in his brain pan.)

“That ain’t why,” Jason counters softly, letting his sweetheart do what he needed. “Timmers, we ain’t…good in yer time. We getcha, but it does get better, you feel me? We get better. So’s it was just the right time when ya finally did lay it out.”

He can suck in a breath, but just barely, and the world tilts just slightly, just a enough for him to see something else has been building here, the evidence in almost everything he notices pointing him to a completely different headspace in how he should be dealing with the future Batclan.

He’ll try to wrap his stunned brain around the entirety of the situation when the panic in his chest calms it the fuck down.

The next words out of Dick’s mouth, however, aren’t going to let that happen anytime soon.

“You weren’t even healed up from the fight before that,” is Dick’s half-exasperation.  “You had a bad few months moving from—”

Shit, shit.

They knew about the Triad.

His stomach rolls with nausea strong enough to trigger his gag reflex, makes him shove back in his chair with a hand over his mouth.

(The ‘fight before that,’ just a little vacay off the coast of Peru with some terrible bad guys that tortured him for his tech.)

And the three future Bats have an abrupt, sickening ah-ha moment in the memory of their Tim’s voice when he admitted he hadn’t taken time to really heal much before mind-controlling invaders thought Earth looked like it was on point.

Words like compromised and post-traumatic stress were a huge part of that.

Or, well, this apparently.

Red pauses because the food in his stomach rolls uncomfortably and he takes his own moment to close his eyes try to fucking breathe, half-meditate, anything to keep him from jumping into another remix from the part of his brain that has a technicolor rewind.

(They knew. They knew and he fucking told them about what happened on that ship.)

Dick abruptly leans over the table, snapping his fingers close to Red’s face, making those eyes blink, the body jerk, and attention focus.

“Stay right here with us, Tim,” because Dick remembers the flashbacks, remembers it with crystal clarity, and by the time he’d been back far enough into Tim’s life, the third Robin had been going through them for almost a year by himself.  “Focus on my voice. You’re in Gotham City, USA. It’s Wednesday morning. It’s ten years away from all of that.”

“Baby Bird,” is low and subtle, almost hypnotic, and his eyes slide over to Jason standing between Dami and Dick still with both hands flat on the table, “s’all right. I fucking promise, s’all right.” Slowly, one of the hands lifts, turns, reaches out.

It’s insane enough that he stares down at that offered hand, eyes going back to Dick’s earnest gaze, when he looks further at Damian who is holding both palms up just slightly in the universal not dangerous, nothing to see here.

Instead, he shifts mental gears, tries to pull out the second most effective weapon in his arsenal, deflection.

“I don’t even know why would I tell you that shit. I…I handled it. It’s done.”

The sad smile on Dick’s face tells him more than he realistically can believe at this juncture (and dammit, he used to be so good lying to Batman).

“Just like Jay said, Timmy. Eventually…eventually, we do everything we can to get you back.”

He blinks noncomprehendingly, gripping the seat of his chair in tight enough for his knuckles to go white.

“It,” Dami eases in, not moving but subtly sliding the water glass closer, “it was a… process, you understand. However, Richard and Jason do not lie.” And it’s a smile for him again, one that has it’s own tinges of old hurts and struggles, one that makes Damian Wayne more human than the kid that desperately wanted him gone. “The four of us, the Robins. We have come to be family, Tim. We are…closer now.”

And like he can’t help himself, his eyes go to Jason Todd (how he knew, how they all knew).

“It ain’t easy ta find anyone what can understand how we live, Timmers. Was only a matter of time ‘til we stopped tryin’ ta kill the one what could have our backs, you feel me?” Jason shrugs a shoulder casually, looking at Dick and Baby Bat before he comes back to Tim, “wouldn’t trade none a’ it. Bet dime ‘gainst a dozen, the you that likes being a pain in the fucking ass would say the same shit.”

His brain blinks off and on, all the evidence sliding into place.

Communal drawers, familiarity with his systems, being able to override the lab, checking on the future him, sensors in the suit because they knew he was abducted off the street, Hood gets he fucking loves paninis with the crusts cut off, all of it supports what the three are telling him.

At some point, he must have made his way back into Gotham, back into the nest of crazy crime fighters. He works with them (they have access in his database, have log ins, have pieces of him he usually hides), maybe even deals with their various and sundry issues because it’s all too obvious how they’ve earned a place through his security and protocols, how they’ve carved out places in his life.

This time, this time, when Jason Todd lays a gentle hand over his clenched fist on the table, for the first time since he’s known the guy—

Tim Drake doesn’t flinch.

**

With hands a little steadier than before, shoving shit like trauma and immediate escape plans to the back of his brain pan, Tim picks up the sandwich and takes a trusting bite.

Fuck, it’s awesome.

The future Bats are right there with him, probably riding the dredges of their own patrols and crime fighting for the night, giving an uneasy silence the background for the meal while everything just…processes.

(The soup is also awesome, and he’s mentally filing away the fact Jason Todd can cook without it tasting like Bruce’s lame attempt at sandwiches. Thank-you, Alfred, for teaching at least one Robin how not to poison himself.)

He starts in hesitantly around a mouthful of fucking delicious, “I’m not...exactly sure what device brought me here. It could have been a few different things.”

Dick’s attention is slightly sharp, the oldest palming a sleek cell phone that looks miles ahead of the antiquated piece of crap iPhone Tim is used to seeing. He types out one handed while eating,

“Can you start from the beginning, Tim? Try to give me whatever you remember, any detail could help narrow down the possibilities.”

“I had some left-over Insurgent systems in the Tower, running analysis on them,” he admits, taking another bite so he doesn’t give away too much. “I think something might have reacted badly to the scans, triggered… I don’t know, something, and whoosh. Here I am.”

Dick looks up from his phone, shaking Tim just slightly when it’s undivided attention, “that’s a good place to start. Bruce is in the middle of a tech refresh,” stretching the truth, but Tim doesn’t need to know that, “and he needs help, even if he won’t ask for it.”

All of them, even Tim, roll their eyes at the Dark Knight’s antics.

“So I’m going to the Cave for a few hours while you get some sleep. While I’m there, we’ll start looking at the inventory and old records. We’ll find you what you need, Timmy.”

Tim looks back down at his food, jaw working slowly as he chews, shifting in his chair because he’s not the intel guy or the extra soldier here, and he can’t jump the fuck in and have some answers waiting. It’s such a strange thing to just be sitting. He needs things to occupy his brain. “The scans were probably running when the portal opened up, so any results would be good.”

Damian likewise takes out his cell phone, taps a few things easily, “I will give Garfield and Rachel the time frame as well. Perhaps they may be able to find the correct configurations.”

He almost opens his mouth to tell them anything about the tech is probably on his ghost drive, but saves that little bit of information for when he’s got a few minutes alone to try hacking into it himself. Instead, he stuffs his mouth full and lets the detectives work the case around him. He doesn’t realize his shoulders are sagging, eyes falling half-mast, his body running down with a few minutes of chill time.

“Ain’t gotta worry ‘bout it, Timmers. ‘Tween alla us, we’ll getcha what cha need,” Jason waves his spoon, talking around the bite of sandwich.

It’s so casual and careless, something that might have fallen out of Jason Todd’s mouth a hundred times, something that jars him right down to the bone. And Tim stutters on it for a second, lets it sink in instead of deflecting it. “...I...appreciate the help, thanks.”

And something, something in the way Dami’s eyes get soft when he smiles again, when Dick reaches out, reaches over and squeezes his hand tightly for longer than just a second before drawing away, in the way Jason seemed to know his quirks, all of it, fucking all of it—

Makes him utterly fucking terrified.

Because once he was on his own, after the R was taken, he figured all those years of bleeding and broken, of fighting the good fight as a Bat, of being welcome in the Cave, in the Manor, in their lives, of being one of them—

Was just…over.

It was a searing, painful thing, a burn in a place nothing else could touch, a stab so sharp and biting it left him weak even when he had to keep moving.

Even when his friends died around him, even when he was the only one left fucking standing to fight—

Losing his place as Robin broke something integral, something he could never fix. A wound that couldn’t be stitched or bandages, something the bled like a motherfucker until he had to fight just to fucking breathe sometimes.

And in a crazy turn of events, he’s staring down at the mostly eaten food, taking in this new world, and those wounds are still there, bleeding sluggishly, still killing him in degrees. His brain isn’t numb to it all, the smallest actions and reactions, the exchanged looks and easy comfort, all of them looking to him like it should be totally natural. It’s fucking with them, not getting it back from him. That’s what all the looks being thrown around means, the aborted movements, the calm and careful way they’re treating him.

He really is…one of them.

(Mental note: trading gun-toting Batman future in exchange for BatClan is more of a win than he could have ever hoped for. Next steps once he gets back to his own time—find the correct series of events for this future. Execute.)

**

Dick smiles down at him with such a fond expression, and all that sudden attention is…well, he’s not sure yet. There’s a lot of land between the two of them in his time, as little interaction as possible. It’s not fine, not what he ever wanted to happen, it just… was.

(So that look might just make his shoulders relax, his chest lift a little easier)

The ruffle to his hair, the sudden yet inevitable octopus hold engaged (and wow, it never gets any easier to tolerate, especially when his fucking back is a raw mess and his joints are starting to get fucking achy). It’s a whirlwind of motion and he’s just suddenly left with the two Robins that literally wanted him dead at one point or another.

That are now being stupidly careful with him.

Which is still a double-take for his brain, just not one that makes him want to deliver things like nerve strikes.

Sneaking away from the table to head downstairs while Dami and Jay finish clean-up is absolutely a waste of time because Jason Todd manages to play the movie he set up earlier and paused on the TV, blocking the door downstairs with his big body.

When the opening plays, he doesn’t even have to guess. It’s Thor: Ragnarok.

Slowly, slowly, his narrowed gaze goes back to the smirking vigilante. The one that easily offers him the remote.

“How did you know—?”

A shrug and that smirk,

“This isn’t out in theaters yet in my time.” And he just shouldn’t even though a shiver goes up his spine and the couch kind of looks inviting.

“It’ll be soon, Timmers. Yer just gettin’ a first lookit, yeah?” Jay drawls it out because that asshole knows about his nerd obsessions.

Shit is starting to get real.

“The temptation is strong with this one,” he deadpans tiredly because really.

Damian however tuts at him, drying his hands and flipping the towel over one shoulder. It’s an easy thing when the two herd him over to the said overstuffed couch with hot chocolate instead of coffee.

“Richard has a point,” Dami chides gently, tucking an awesome fleece Flash blanket (…yup, that’s never going to change) around him, “we shall give you entertainment and allow you to rest while we gather supplies.” And the ghost of fingers, something he wasn’t apparently supposed to catch, as the back of his neck, sliding over the tips of his too-long hair. “It would be beneficial if you could manage a few hours of sleep. However, I understand your reluctance to do so.”

But, well, Tim’s a detective, Demon.

“You have dark circles under your eyes,” he starts off the list, “a tremor in your left hand, and your muscles are drooping. You’ve probably been awake over 48 hours straight.”

“It seems more than just your humor has rubbed off on me,” the youngest admits to cover the fact he’d been discreetly checking on how warm this past-Tim has become. Even with the antibiotics they witnessed him take earlier, he still looks too pale, more than just exhaustion creeping up on him.

A second mug of hot chocolate appears over Robin’s shoulder because some people make pretty good plans when his boys needed someone else to be just a mite more stubborn, “very funny, Baby Bat. Still, Timmers called ya out, yeah? Half-dead and still on his motherfuckin’ game.”

Jay steers Dami with familiarity, prodding his mid-back until he’s on the other end of the couch. And because the Hood is a man what knows his boys, he lets the movie play, moves to put the discarded tablet in Dami’s hands, taps a few things out on Timmy’s wrist computer to show him the place for a few more deets on the time travel algorithm. There’s another blanket to lay over Baby Bat, and he moves away, fakes being busy in the kitchen, giving the two exhausted birds a little time—

To drift off and finally sleep.

When he comes back in twenty minutes to the movie still playing, he smiles softly when he takes the tablet and wrist computer from lax hands, uses all his Bat-talent to test the heat on Timmy’s forehead and lean down to press his mouth to Dami’s.

He’s going to hold down the fort while Dickie works the Manor side of things. He’s going to be easy-like with Timmers, banter and cajole him outta the snap when he needs to because Bats? Well, they don’t give in. Maybe they oughta just give Timmy a little reminder.

[alisonembers]

Cogs and Queens (D&D Eberron Fan Fic) - Week 7

Content Warning: Course Language.

—————————————————–

Google Drive Link for correctly formatted version: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1SKe_bt0osey49Bsyfe5vKWypcMpqvVJB/view?usp=sharing

Cogs and Queens - Part Seven

Mercury wakes up from the feeling of a hand running between their thighs. They open their eyes, turn to Davil, and smile. “And good morning to you.”

“Sorry to wake you… But not really,” Davil says, tracing his fingers up their abdomen towards their chest.

“Having fun?” Mercury teases.

“Always, with you.”

Mercury taps them on the nose. “I’ve gotta get moving, I’m afraid.”

“Of course,” Davil says, pulling back.

“I’ll probably be here tonight. I always come back.”

“Make sure you do, okay?” Davil says, running his fingers along their jawbone. “I uh… You know, you’ve been in the city for eight years… I’ve known you for seven of them. Look what I’ve meant to say is-”

“Hey. Not now, okay?” Mercury says, holding their hand. “You’re shit at hiding it.”

“Apparently,” he says with a sigh.

“I’ll be back, always am!” Mercury smiles, their canines peeking from beneath their upper lips.

“You’re something else, Merc.”

“I get that.”

                     V

 Mercury lays on a comfortable chair in the lower tavern, their legs folded over one arm. They watch Davil flirt with other clients; as for him, it was a day job. They stare out a window, watching the ordinary person walk by. Families, couples, and people with ordinary jobs. I wonder what it would be like to have an everyday life… They scoff at themselves. It would be terrible. Slaving away dawn till dusk. Fuck that. Would rather get shot at for fifteen gold an hour.

“You okay?” a thick accent asks from out of their view.

As Mercury turns their head, they spot a tall, muscular orc. “Tal?”

“Aye!” the orc man says back with a smile, his tusks large and pointy.

“Tal, it’s been years!” Mercury says, waving at them to come closer.

“It has! How have you been!?” Tal asks.

“Well, you know, life really has thrown me through a mixer. New robot arm, destructive outlook on life, you know, good stuff.”

“Ah, I see,” Tal moves a wooden chair towards Mercury, sitting on it backward, resting his arms on the back of the chair with his chin planted on top.

“So, what brings you to my kingdom, Tal?” Mercury asks, still resting in the lounge chair.

“I have an offer you can’t refuse,” Tal says, holding out a scroll of paper.

Mercury takes it and stretches the paper to its length.

 Captain Damon Vanhoutte has specially requested Mister Tal Jonag and Miss Mercury's recruitment for an undercover assignment.

Mission: A rogue warforge, a sentient creature made of wood and steel, has been committing murder on upper Sharn citizens, sneaking in the shadows leaving little trace. Officers have located where the offender has set up a home base and request that the stated assets execute the rogue.

Execution: Set up an ambush at the recently located base, execute the target, and return with evidence of a completed job.

Upon successfully completing the job, a pardon will be granted to Miss Mercury, and Tal Jonag will be rewarded five-hundred gold coins.

 Mercury rolls the paper back up. “I see. So what now?”

“We accept the job, I get nice pay, and you get freedom,” Tal says.

“Right. Seems unreal.”

“This warforge must be some serious issue. Requesting one of Sharns best bounty hunters and notorious criminals to work for them.”

“I’m not a criminal,” Mercury says, frustrated.

“You kill Sharn without hesitation.”

“They’re a mob. Nobody working for them is innocent.”

“It’s not that simple, Mercury.”

“It is. If people would stop licking the toes of the men and women on top, we’d all be a little better off,” Mercury looks back out the window.

“Some people need a boss to tell them what to do. Not everyone knows what they want.”

“Maybe if they weren’t bossed around all the time, they’d be able to figure it out…” Mercury sighs. “I’ll take the job, get myself pardoned, then ditch this ugly city.”

“Oi! Bartender! I’ll have whatever two silver will get me,” Tal says, walking away.

Layer upon layer of shit Mercury. They close their eyes, resting in the chair as they hear the faint moving of a bed above them, the creaking of wood drowned out by the patrons inside the tavern. They sneeze, clenching their nose with their right hand. Lords. They pull their hand away, noticing blood again. Keep it together.

                V

 The rain hits hard, the sound of thin metal ringing above.

“This airbus, is it taking us right to the upper city or what?” Mercury shouts over the sound.

“Yes! They will deliver us to the Sharn station closest to the operating area.”

“Right, sure!” Mercury replies, shielding their eyes from the splashes as they look out into the open areas for the airbus.

The airbus swoops in at a fast pace, the steam churning out the sides as the crystal powering it produces a low droning hum.

“Alright, here we go!” Tal says, climbing on board.

Mercury follows behind, climbing on. They feel a sheet of ice-cold rain shiver across their back, and they begin involuntarily shaking.

“A second in the rain, and you look like a drowned mouse, Merc.”

“What?”

“Your hair! Short and fluffy like a mouse.”

Mercury feels a blush climbing their neck and looks away. “Don’t compare me to a mouse.”

“Sure thing,” Tal says with a chuckle. “How’s Dandran doing? Been a long time since I saw him. Since he took you in.”

“He’s… Not on good terms with me right now. I kinda pissed him off.”

“Shit, Merc. What did you do?” Tal sits down in one of the chairs, facing inwards towards the center.

“Went after the man who took my arm, fucked up the replacement doing so. He repaired it. The thing is, he repaired it five times since I have had it, and each time I got further into debt. I owe him over five thousand gold.”

“Why would he repair it if he knew you didn’t have the money?”

“Didn’t wanna see me die. But now I’ve fucked up, and he doesn’t want any more of me.”

“Well, with a clear name and no warrant out for you, maybe you can focus your time on earning legit money.”

“Working in the mines? No thanks.”

“Anything is better than killing Sharn guards when they get in your way. The more you kill, the worse it gets. Do you not see this?”

“There’s too much going on in this big city for them to care about me that much.”

“You’re in for a world of shock, mousey.”

                    V

 The rest of the way was rather quiet… Watching the rain pound against the window as the airbus sped through the airways to the upper city was oddly calming. While the trip was only thirty minutes, it felt like hours. The lights of different inventions mixed with lanterns on the skyways were like a sea of stars swirling behind the rain.

The doors of the airbus open with loud shrieks as steam pour from the joints.

“Time to go, Merc.” Tal says, stepping out into the rain once more.

Mercury follows out, keeping their coat tight around them, their gun hidden. It’s so cold.

A few Sharn guards walk towards the two, a man with greying hair stepping ahead. “Tal, you made it. I’m glad. I’m also glad to see you brought the little devil with you.”

“The agreement is that you would leave Mercury alone.”

“Yes, and we will,” the Sharn officer says, eying Mercury. “Here’s the directions. You’ll set an ambush for the warforge, and we’ll come in as backup.”

“Sure,” Tal says, taking the scroll case. He pops it open, moving to cover to read it.

Mercury stands idly, watching the other guards. Mobsters, all of them. Scoundrel.

“Is that the bitch that killed Hayden?” one of them ask another.

“Yeah, now they’re working with us.”

“We should put the devil down now while it’s here. Save us the trouble lat-”

“Do you want to get shot?” the officer asks his men. “Stay in line.”

“Okay, I got the directions,” Tal says to Mercury. “Follow me and stay close.”

Mercury nods, following Tal down an alley.

“They all hate you, mousey.”

“I know. They should stop getting in my way if they want to live.”

“Or you could just not shoot them.”

“They’re evil, especially the ones that pick on me.”

“You’re cute.”

“What?”

“You didn’t even respond to me calling you mousey.”

“Fuck off.”

“You like it.”

“No. Look, let’s just get on with this mission,” Mercury says, fighting a blush.

 To be continued…

[winsister91]

Finally?

A/N: Okay, I think I done fucked up here and wrote something different to what you intended because I’m dumb! I knew I’d changed the scenario a bit but after re-reading the ask, I think I completely misinterpreted it lmao! I’m sorry but I’m not starting again! The general almost gist is there right?

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean

Warnings: Implied smut, language, fluff? crack?

Word Count: 1259

My Masterlist!

~ Sam and forever tags are open! ~

Tags at the bottom and mostly taken from @spnfanficpond Sam list. Get in touch if you wanna be added or removed!

A loud bang from next door wakes you. You jolt up hastily in your bed, sleepy fog clouding your brain. It takes you a moment to remember you're in a motel and not your room in the bunker. Sam laid sound asleep in the single bed next to yours, undeterred by the noise. His and your laptops lay open on the table in the centre of the room. Books were strewn across the floor. You were having no luck working out what this damn creature was, so decided to call it a night and try again in the morning with refreshed and rested minds.

More banging and crashing next door, this time Sam did awake and sit up, his tight white t-shirt and scuffed bed hair just visible in the small amount of light.

“What the hell?” he groans, rubbing his eyes.

“It's coming from Dean's room...” you yawn, “Sounds like he just got back...”

You reach for your phone on the bedside table and click the screen on, the blaring light taking your eyes by surprise and making you wince. It was 3am, you'd managed maybe an hours worth of light sleep.

“Should we check on him?” you ask the younger Winchester. “I wouldn't,” Sam grumbles, like he knew something you didn't.

Right on cue, laughter could be heard next door, both male and female.

“Huh,” you huff, “Someone got distracted when scouting the locals for info at the bar then...”

“Are you honestly surprised?”

You sigh deeply, of course you weren't surprised. The laughter next door silenced, replaced now with moans.

“Oh god...” you whine, grimacing.

Sam doesn't reply, but rubs his forehead with embarrassment.

Banging started again next door. The familiar thud and squeaks of a creaky bed hitting the wall. The precise wall that separated your room from his.

You groan again childishly, dropping back to the mattress violently and tightly gripping the pillow around your head to blot out the noise.

Dean's lady friend sounded like she was having a swell time, her moans becoming over the top screams of pleasure, calling out his name and wailing with the full force of her lungs.

“IS HE FUCKING SERIOUS!?” you snap, roaring hysterically as you sit back up and punch at the wall, “Knock it off you pair of sluts!!!”

Nothing changes, if anything the volume somehow increases. You clench your eyes shut, gritting your teeth and trying to not let the red mist descend. The rustling sound of movement from Sam's direction grabs your attention. Opening one eye, you see him getting out of bed, throwing on a shirt and heading back to his laptop.

“What are you doing?” you question.

“Well I'm not listening to that,” he remarks, plugging some headphones into laptop's jack, “Might as well carry on where I left off.”

You whimper, throwing your head back with a light thud against the wall behind you. The realisation that you can now feel the vibrations from that pair next door's shenanigans is too much to bear. You reluctantly follow Sammy’s suit, finding your way back over to your computer and plugging in some headphones of your own. You pick out your loudest heavy rock playlist, hoping the sound of blaring guitars is enough to drown them two out as well as keep you awake.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Hours passed. Every now and then you would tentatively remove one earbud to see if the 'action' was over. You gave up trying after the fifth attempt. Researching with Sam was a regular occurrence. You had your habits that you'd developed together while doing so. You'd take it in turns to go fetch coffee, laugh and share when you'd accidentally stumbled on not so legit lore sites, take breaks and check each other's internet history to see whose laptop Dean had stolen for a porn fix. The idle chit-chat was what made it though. You and Sam could just sit and talk all matter of subjects for days if given the opportunity. The research would probably get done a lot faster if you focused more on that. That's what made this particular session all the more torturous, besides Dean's sexual gorilla grunts echoing from next door. You couldn't talk. You had heavy guitar murdering your eardrums, and you suspected Sam was no doubt listening to some form of educational history podcast. He was such a nerd, but you thought it was cute.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

As more time dragged past, you felt the fatigue begin to hit. Sleep deprivation made your eyes tired,  the harsh light from the computer screen made them ache. Your ears were no doubt going to start bleeding soon from the loud music attacking them. Not to mention you were bored. So damn bored. The lack of interaction was mind-numbing, time to rectify this. You brought up your email, and proceeded to send Sam a message.

I'm bored.

You notice the change in colour to the light reflecting onto Sam's clothes, confirming he'd received your whiny note. You got a reply.

Ditto.

I'm making Dean's life hell today, just so you know. I need my beauty sleep dammit!

No objections here! What are you planning?

I haven't thought that far ahead...

Sam looked over the top of his screen at you. A mischievous twinkle in those hazel eyes. You raise an inquisitive eye and wear a curious smile. You observe as he slowly removes his headphones, and expresses a sigh of relief. You remove yours too, to be met with wondrous silence.

“At last!” you cheer, “I need sleeeeep.”

“Bit late for that now really,” Sam grimaces, flashing his phone screen at you to reveal it was now 10am.

“Damn you Dean Winchester,” you grumble sulkily shooting a glare at the wall he resided behind, “I at least need coffee then. Shall I do a run?”

“First,” he smiles, swishing a pointed finger through the air, “Got an idea.”

You narrow your eyes with slight suspicion, watching him head towards one of the beds and grab the rail at the bottom of it. He pulls the bed back and slams it hard into the wall.

“Whoa!” you jump, “What the hell Sammy?”

“Ugh!” he groans loudly, “Oh, Y/N!”

You choke on a laugh, not quite believing what you're seeing. You hastily join his side, grabbing the bed and aiding him in crashing it into the wall.

“Sammy!” you squeal dramatically, “Oh god! Please! Deeper! Faster!”

The immaturity continues, the both of you stifling childish laughs as you slam the bed harder and shout with all the gusto you have. Soon enough, you're putting so much effort and energy into it, you were getting hot and sweaty like the real deal, minus the tears of laughter.

“Sam!” you cry enthusiastically, “I'm so close! Oh! Ah!”

Finally, a noise from next door, the door slamming. You quickly bring a finger to your lips, gesturing to Sam to be quiet and you both fall into silence, shoulder's shaking wildly from trying to hold back your laughs. What sounds like fists start thumping on your room's door, followed by Dean's raised voice.

“Guys!!” he blares, “I mean...finally and all that but c'mon! Some consideration for others please!!”

You're practically biting your fist, mortified at his hypocrisy. After a few moments, you hear the next room's door slam once again.

“Can you believe him?” you titter, gasping for breath from all the laughter.

“Unfortunately yes,” Sam chuckles wiping tears from his eyes.

“But er...” you shuffle on your feet, “What d'ya think he meant by... 'finally'?”

Tags!

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[paniccord-ff]

27. Part 5

Joe and Carlos stared at me in silence, are they expecting me to pop off. I am about ready to punch a nigga but I am not about to punch anybody, first of all Rylee’ family is here and I respect them too much to do that. I am so angry though, I can’t believe my future wife is flirting with other men which makes me doubt her “yo, Chris can my moms go in your car? She is wanting to go home but we are going out to eat?” Blake said, I am trying to contain my anger and I am finding it so hard. I am keeping quiet to not snap on anyone, looking at Rose “sure” opening the SUV door, Rylee looked at me. Glaring at her kissing my teeth “get out of the car, your mom is going home” I don’t wish to ride home with her at all, widening the car door “you ok Mrs Turner?” she looks real tired “need some rest Chris, so sorry to put you out like this but they want to eat and I want to sleep” holding my hand out for Rose to take, she placed her hand on mine and helped herself up in the SUV “it’s fine, I need to go back to the home and pack so I am going” I am done, I want to go and cool down “aww no, you not going with them?” shaking my head “I will be right with you” closing the car door “we going now, do me a favour and call my manager. Tell him get the jet ready for the early hours in the morning, I need to see Royalty” I said to Joe, turning around seeing Harvey speaking to the guy. He is literally staring at Rylee, looking over at Rylee she is staring at me but I don’t want to know “I am out of here, see y’all” walking around the car.

Dragging the car door open, the door slammed shut “please don’t go, Chris I am sorry. Honestly stop being angry with me” Rylee pleaded “I am so disappointed with you, I doubt every word you say to me. I still think you hate me like you originally did, just leave me alone yeah?” Rylee looked at me in sadness “I never hated you Chris, it was a mistake. Stop thinking that, I beg you don’t” shaking my head, seeing Blake, Nathan, Harvey and that guy walking by. Staring at him as he stared at me, I was about to shout something but I didn’t “I need to go” dragging open the car door and slipping inside “I love you” Rylee said before I closed the car door, I feel a little heavy hearted right now. I don’t really trust girls but I trusted Rylee, but that girl I saw there was not the girl I fell for, it hurts that she was staring at him like that because she has never once looked at me like that. I fucking hate love, she don’t love me like she says maybe she cares but that is it.

Swallowing back the lump in my throat, the SUV drove off ever so slowly “Chris Brown!” the kids slapped the window, screaming as the SUV drove a little more with speed and they chased on “you’re so loved by the world” Rose said at the side of me “they really do love me” I didn’t know what else to say “my daughter said you both are trying for a baby?” rubbing my chin thanking god there is no baby “see what happens, I have so much to do so I need to go back to LA. I have been away from my daughter for so long, been away from someone that actually wants me for so long” I want to say so much more but let me stop “kids are for life, their love is so pure. She is such a bright child too” smiling a little “yeah, when I was on the phone to her she kept saying miss you” sighing out “you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders right now, never seen you so sad” I don’t really want to say anything to Rose because that is still her daughter “tired” I mumbled.

Throwing my tee in my backpack “so are you happy? Album ready? Interviews kind of ready?” my manager said on the phone to me “I am ready for this, I need to take my mind away from the bullshit right now. Did Joe call you? Oh yeah, come to my crib tomorrow I want to see my album” the bedroom opened, I didn’t bother to look behind me because I know who it is “of course, it’s pretty dope Chris. For a guy that was struggling you have some good songs on there, platinum here we come” I chuckled “you know how we do, rehearsals coming up yeah? You managed to sort the dancers out? If not I will do it” Rylee pouting is not even going to work, I am not even speaking to her at all “no, you need to do that. It won’t be hard for you to pick” I guess he is right “cool, see you tomorrow then. I need to get ready for tonight” disconnecting the call.

Rylee is now staring at me but not saying a word at all, putting my bomber jacket on “you not going to put a tee on?” Rylee asked, walking to the bathroom “Chris please don’t ignore me. I am so sorry, I promise you now I love you so much, I can’t think of a life without you now” brushing my hair down staring at myself in the mirror, I wish she would leave me alone “I feel so bad, I didn’t mean to do that to you. I promise you now” placing the brush on the side of the sink “good for you, can you leave me alone. I honestly do not want to speak to you, you were disrespectful. Touching him like I would accept it, I know you and I know for a fact you knew I wouldn’t like it” I just see liar on her face “I didn’t think” shaking my head “liar, just fucking leave me alone before I get angry and do something I will regret please” eyeballing Rylee “please” Rylee looked down at herself crying, she can cry on her own because I don’t care.

I do not want to be in this club right now, not even in the mood. Things could have been so good today, Rylee could be here with me turning up but no. I have Blake and Nathan with me, I don’t mind them but at times I feel like I will get shot at because nobody likes Blake. Drinking from the Hennessey bottle, looking at Blake. He seems way calmer then I remember him, last time he was getting every female in VIP. He caught me looking and made his way over to me, it’s feeling a little lonely in this corner while everyone stares “you cool!?” he shouted in my ear, nodding my head “just a little fucked up but I am cool” looking ahead of me as I drank from the bottle “Chris Breezy in the building tonight” the DJ shouted on the mic “did Rylee ever say about me working for you? I want to be legit, I got the build and I’ll kill any nigga. Nobody will hire me” what a place to ask for a job “I have bodyguards but I can get you something in other areas, how desperate are you for work?” I asked him, if he can hold out then we good and I can give him a much better position “not that desperate” nodding my head patting his shoulder “I will get you something, hold tight” I am planning on opening a club so I will need him then.

Rubbing my eyes, I don’t really stay at clubs till closing time but I have this time. I just think shit was so disrespectful to me, I don’t even fuck with Rylee talking to niggas in the first place “we going?” Joe asked, looking up at him. I feel a little tipsy but not that bad, I know what I am doing. Placing the bottle down, getting up from the couch. My eyesight is a little blurry but I am good, I know I am “Chris, can I have a picture?” some girl said as I walked by them, some other girl just took a picture without me saying yes “Breezy!” some guy patted my shoulder “get the fuck off” I mumbled, Joe placed his arm around me to push me out of the crowd.

I knew I shouldn’t have had the blunt or had some of that lean, my legs feel so weak and weird “get up nigga” feeling an arm lift me up on my feet “my bag” I said “what bag?” Blake said “the hell he on about?” I need to get my bag, I need to go “he’s going back to LA, the jet is waiting. He needs his things” Joe answered, snatching my arm away from Blake “oh, we can’t go in the room. You go in there and get it, my sister not going?” Blake questioned “she stay, I don’t care anymore” walking towards the door “y’all had an argument then?” he is asking too many questions, I just want to go home right now. I wish my legs would participate, I am dragging these bitches and I will make it up those stairs so I can go home.

Blake pushed me inside the bedroom, tripping over myself “man, I am good” I said getting up “get up nigga, get your shit” they shut the door on me, I can’t see shit “Chris?” hearing Rylee say, holding the side of the bed as I got up “Chris is that you” the light came on in the bedroom, looking around the room “I need to pee” seeing the bathroom, hitting into the side of the bed “be careful” the light switch automatically came on for me, oh yes “I am magic as fuck” feeling Rylee tug on the back of my jacket “not there, here” pushing my pants down, I just need to pee like now before I pee myself. Rylee pulled me back to her, she lifted the toilet seat up “go away” I said but it did not sound how I thought it would have “oh yeah” as I peed, I need this. Looking down at myself “you can’t touch me” Rylee is touching my dick “I do not want you to pee on the floor Chris, let’s put you to bed” walking back a little, but Rylee pushed my forward again.

Picking up my bag “Chris, where are you going!? You can’t go like this” I am going “Chris you coming out?” Blake opened the door, walking towards the door before hitting into the edge of the bed again “Blake, he can’t go anywhere” she don’t tell me what I can do “peace!” I spat pushing the door open and making my way out “where is he going!?” Rylee shouted “he said LA” she can stay here but I am gone “he is drunk and you’re listening to him!?” waving them off “he said before even getting that drunk he wanted to go so he is” holding the side of the wall making my way down, I am going home to my baby girl.

[hurglewurm]

12.07.17 get ready I saw falsettos in theatres

it’s always fun being in a theatre mostly full of teenage girls, young gay men, and old couples, (and me and my mum), and just crying a whole bunch. collectively. as a group. anyway below are some chronologically segmented thoughts on this experience™ warning it’s long

“four jews” was so good, so bouncy, so happy. I love my kids. To Be Honest I was already crying a bit tho from the start just with the. uh. knowledge of what is to come

by “tight-knit family” christian borle was Already sweating and honestly, same

in “love is blind”: 

the “daddy’s kissing boys” kiss was SEEN and REMEMBERED because BOY HOWDY they MADE OUT

and before that happened andrew did an eyebrow waggle?? and a “come hither” crooked finger beckoning marvin near??? help??

“but so am IIIIIIIIIIII” I love brandon uranowitz, I love mendel

I watched andrew rannells as he did the “ah-ah” and he was a FLAWLESS boy, thank you camera crew for giving this to me

“the thrill of first love”

was so much more??? sexual??????? than I’ve ever seen it be??? andrew rannells put your tongue bACK in your mouth, oh my god

they. were. PALPABLE. that is all I can say

their little bickering and random spurts of dialogue were cute tho. like after The Kiss, whizzer said “that’s all you get” and I was like lmao my boy

legit I’m not joking about how steamy it was like they were mouth to mouth breathing the same air by the last “LOOOOOOOVE” and I was sweating

in “marvin at the psychiatrist” anthony rosenthal is the purest boy, best boy, absolutely flawless, KILLED IT YALL HE DID THAT. VERY PROUD

in “everyone tells jason to see a psychiatrist” 

whizzer stared at marvin for sO LONG after the flick. 

also can I just mention? andrew rannells? as whizzer? loves jason so much, and you can really tell

in “this had better come to a stop” the fluidity with which andrew rannells delivers his L’s in “late for dinner late again” is just incredible honestly, never fails to impress

“I’m breaking down” 

was the first song where the cinema audience clapped really hard along with the filmed audience. 

yall sjb killed it, she killed me, it was amazing. 

she d e s e c r a t e d that banana

“please come to our house”:

“hello to my house, so good of you to travel on account of my unraveling now let’s eat some food” anthony rosenthal’s fake smile was so on point during the delivery of this entire line and I was like. my boy

“I’ll wait for yoouuuuuuuuuuuuuu” trina held that note for SO long as she left the room, smiling shyly at mendel, and it was cUTE

“a marriage proposal”:

I LOVE MY PARENTS AND THEY LOVE EACH OTHER GOD BLESS

“I’m… not a giant man” “good” AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

THEY CONTINUE KISSING EVEN AS MARVIN STARTS SINGING OVER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STAGE AND THEN THEY HUG THIS IS V IMPORTANT INFORMATION

“a tight-knit family reprise”:

mendel is so??? happy???? marvin pls let him live

“king of the losers” “at eighty an hour” the camera man was just ON MENDEL like. yes my boy deliver it

“I just got a family” “the family was mine” still fuckin gets me. damn. mendel is so happy and just?? full of bliss at his new life??? and marvin is so… act one marvin… you get me

“march of the falsettos”: 

Excellent

bran uran’s voice sounded so strained my poor boy

whizzer: “stop pulling my shorts!” marvin: “they’re so hard to take off!” oh my god

whizzer screaming into the void for the blocks to be thrown up like: “hit me! another one!” 

the finger thing with marvin and whizzer? yeah that happened. they both gasped in fear

“the chess game”

bitch it was t e n s e

idk andrew rannells made the choice to call marvin “man” a whole bunch in this production and??? ok

after marvin storms off, whizzer is like “mARVIN” still in that growly voice from the last “life’s a sham” (nice) and he starts to say “it was just a g—” and then he sees marvin and goes. quiet

also from midway through this song until the end of act one, andrew rannells has this big Curl of Messy Hair in the middle of his forehead and I’m sorry but it was a blessed sight

“making a home”

hi the little zooms on whizzer? unpacking his suitcase in the corner? being sad? broke my heart, thanks

“could he love me?” the angle of the shot had happy mendel in front and whizzer kind of behind him off to the side and stop this, camera crew, stop

for “the games I play” I have no words. andrew did so good. so good. he was so sad. and he hIT those high notes yES boy. the audience clapped a bit after this one

“marvin hits trina”

he just barges into their house and starts yelling and tears up their wedding invitation like holy fuck marvin, what is ur damage

“I am so dumb.” and there is the longest silence as he walks all the way around before he starts his Lil Rampage

the actual Hit was p quiet but that’s what makes it all the more poignant, because you can hear trina’s little cry of shock and pain, and it takes her a second to bring a hand up to her cheek

after the Hit someone behind me in the audience just. let out an audible breath, like the wind got knocked out of them, and I was like. same bitch

“I never wanted to love you”

EVERYONE. ON STAGE. WAS CRYING. 

the mood of this musical changes so quickly when it gets to this song and it’s. Good. like it cleaves my heart in twain don’t think it doesn’t but it’s. good

trina needs a fucking hug (and mendel is going to give her 20)

“how do I start… not to love you” FUCK

whenever marvin looks at jason tbh my heart hurts bye. which bRINGS US TO

“father to son”

the pure adoration and faint amusement on marvin’s face as his son is all like “I think… girls are” like it’s so cUTE

near the end as marvin was singing about love the camera just showed us whizzer? sitting alone in the dark? leaning his head on a corner of the Cube™? how dare you

anyway christian borle was crying and so was I

act two time because there was no intermission which was…  not great to be honest oops

“falsettoland”

bran uran had little glow sticks in each hand and at “homosexuals” he just pointed at the audience and the music stalled as he just waved about at them like “YALL ARE ALL GAY JUST TAKE IT”

“and a teeny tiny band” a bunch of little paper cutouts of the band rose up from the Band Area Void and bran uran did a little dance to incite people to love and cherish the band (always love and cherish the band guys they’re so good they do such a good job)

“nancy reagan” andrew slapped the blow up doll so hard lmao

“spiky lesbians” EVERYONE CHEERED AND I WAS LIKE DAMN RIGHT

in “about time” marvin holds jason close and is like “as mature as my son who is tHIS TALL!! that’s all!!” and you really can see… just how much he’s changed, my boy,

“year of the child”:

anthony rosenthal is the cutest kid alive

his little dance between his parents as they’re all like “my chiiiiild” is. just. incredible

“I’ll bring women from the wrong side of the tracks” mendel says out of the corner of his mouth, as he tucks jason under his arm and leads him away, like a bad influence

“the baseball game”

when whizzer first appeared and marvin was all “what is he doing here??” he hid behind charlotte while simultaneously trying to get a good look at whizzer and it was. adorable

whenever marvin touched whizzer’s hair, whizzer couldn’t keep the smile off his face. I’m deceased

“how would I know… without him… my life would be flat as a lake” ok but who is responsible for this lmao

“would it be possible to see you or to…......... kiss you” BASHFUL MARVIN I REPEAT BASHFUL MARVIN

“a day in falsettoland”

“yEEEESSS IiiIiiIII dOOOooOoO” u already know it was perfect, I don’t need to tell you

charlotte pulled cordelia in with the apron and their part of the stage went dark but they kissed, they did, saw it with my own two gay little eyes

“what more can I say”

TOO… SOFT… HELP

andrew had his leggy out

before whizzer rolled over he?? gave marvin a lil kiss on the cheek? it was really audible????? I’m???

when marvin looked under the sheet, instead of his customary simple eyebrow waggle, this man Dared to laugh in delight along with the audience like “yes I love this boy he is mine and I am his and that’s incredible”

ALSO AT THE END when they both just cuddle into each other they… kissed each other’s faces a bunch… h e lp me

“something bad is happening”

charlotte is so upset and I am upset because hERE WE GO

“more racquetball”

the costume department is full of geniuses tbh like the loosening of whizzer’s costume? genuinely just looked like the poor man had lost a bunch of weight

he fell so hard and abruptly and something in me fell with him

“I’m sorry” HIS FACE CRUMPLED AND HE STARTED CRYING

“days like this”

someone forgot to turn on andrew’s mic at the beginning so his mouth said “good morning” but you couldn’t hear it

“kid you’re looking very good today” whizzer just gives a self-deprecating smile and he. he Knows. 

cordelia’s laugh is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard in my life

“I’ll let you win, whizzer” “don’t let me win…” “I’ll let you win” I’m really upset, whizzer looked so… wrecked

at the end of “cancelling the bar mitzvah” mendel’s fucking “why don’t we tell him that we don’t have the answers” whole thing got me w r e c k e d. he says those lines like a man who knows how awful it is, but he knows how true it is, and he’s helpless to stop it

“unlikely lovers”

“marvin? did you hear what I said?” they were both crying, you could hear the tears in andrew’s voice, and christian borle kept… sobbing… between his lines… 

like when marvin stopped singing and cordelia/charlotte were at the door he just had to crumple for a moment and just lie there shaking?? a broken man?? just to recuperate for the next bit of the song? kill me

the way marvin looks people in the eye and just says “I love you” with the softest voice. god

so “something bad is happening reprise”: charlotte sang this directly to marvin, a steadying hand on his elbow, peering into his eyes past her own film of tears to make sure he understands what she’s saying. and he does. and he just turns away and walks off

“you gotta die sometime”

when he swung his legs out of bed his voice broke from the effort

he got really choked up after the second verse and he was openly crying by the end of it (still killed it tho, my boy)

this is my favourite song but I can’t watch anyone sing it ever

“jason’s bar mitzvah”

jason rushes in, bubbly and cheerful, and andrew is still fucking sobbing and it takes him a while to come down from it and everything hurts

“don’t know why, but he looks… like marvin” fucking crying already and then there’s a little pause, jason is really agitated, and marvin just whispered something like “hey you got this” and I WEPT

marvin kissed jason’s head. he loves this boy so much

whizzer also kissed jason’s head??? jason has so many dads who all love him so much

whizzer’s “thank you” was just a whisper but it rang through the theatre and then it was so quiet. I could not breathe in the space after whizzer’s final line. (I mean I was sobbing but I was real quiet about it)

“what would I do”

andrew was crying, christian was crying, I was crying, it was beautiful tho

whizzer just walks out in his pristine white shirt and it’s. it’s poignant. it’s such a stark contrast from the last time we saw him, it hits really hard

“I’d like to believe that I’d do it again and again and again” the crescendo that christian puts in these lines leading to that really Powerful last “again” shakes me to my fucking core (and yeah, makes me cry, you guessed it)

“we’re just gonna skip that stage” it sounded like it hurt to say that. it hurt to hear it too

just in general there’s this softness to christian borle’s voice when it’s live that’s not really there in the cast recording but it’s really, really beautiful

whizzer gives him one last, sad, little smile before the lights change

there were three men sitting beside me and my mother and they were all sobbing

“falsettoland reprise”

marvin buried his face in his hands for most of this, but there were moments where he didn’t, where he tried to be strong in the face of his loss. he couldn’t do it anymore once they put the gravestone down. 

to be honest i could barely see jason put the chess piece down because everything was too blurry from my tears

as my mother put it, “there was no catharsis at the end. it was really, really sad. but it was realistic about that, about death, and love, and everything.”

20000000/10 would watch again, please release a dvd