#like not to be a fucking cop but maybe we don't have to follow every single idea to its most extreme logical conclusion

[mostlygibberish]

I'm beginning to think I should just stop trying to watch slasher movies.

[evilminji]

...Wait. ACTUALLY???

The Portal is basically a doorway right? Big ol solid and sustained gateway from Realm A to Universe B? Unlike the brief blips of natural portals?

As IN... a Ring could therefore, theoretically, send out it's Search For Willpower. EXE vibes? Hit the portal -> go THROUGH the portal -> and continue expanding as the search continued until it hit a Confirmed Match(tm)?

You know... somebody INCREDIBLY SUPER LIKELY to match? Like... say... a Dead Green Lantern who? Had the WILL to continue on as a Ghost? Probably would get priority over any untested "new" Lantern candidates? Since they are somehow both in the system and not?

Recognized, yet a different species somehow?

The Rings records mark them deceased. Yet here they are, without a Ring. Which they OBVIOUSLY need, as Lanterns. Because once a Lantern, always a Lantern. Nyooom~ off it goes.

Off? Probably a whole SHIT TON of them go. Like? A truely, TRUELY alarming amount.

Think hundreds of thousands, suddenly wrenching themselves free of their stands and SHOOTING into the sky. Yes, a few at a time is normal. Day in, day out. Hundreds a day.

Not upwards of millions.

Not all at once.

A SEA of green orbs shooting up into the night sky like shooting stars. So many it chokes the sky. Drives everything to a stand still. All of them going the same direction. Some... EVENT... has just happened and no one knows what it is.

You have no choice but to follow them. Figure out where they are going and what's DRAWING them. You fly for weeks. Take shifts, following them. Alarm countless innocent people and more then a few governments.

It's....? Earth? Fuck. Of COURSE it had to be that God forsaken rock. EVERYTHING seems to come from there! Do you have ANY IDEA how many Lanterns they have stationed there by now? Multiple times the amount ENTIRE QUADRENTS usually take.

Why is it ALWAYS that planet?? Someone call Hal and his merry band of migraines. They're coming in hot. And NO, we CANT stop them. Don't bother asking. We ALSO have no idea where they're headed.

Think about being in Amity. Quiet day for once. You don't trust it. Something gonna happen, you can FEEL it.

A ring shoots past you. Then another. And another. Then dozens. Hundreds. THOUSANDS. Green, glowing, and like they were shot from a gun. The sky hailing ghost jewelry because God hate Amity specifically, apparently, and FUCK your premiums. You dive for your car.

Watch, baffled, at the Fenton house is SWARMED. The local crack pots are trying to shoot at RINGS. Failing to hit a single one. The swarm organized, writhing, and gracefully ALIVE somehow.

Aliens shoot past your car. They're wearing LANTERN get ups. Fighting the local crackpots. The sky is FULL of Lanterns now. Oh god, first Ghosts, now Aliens. Your mother was right. You SHOULD have stayed in Ohio with her sister.

The Rings break the Fenton's door down. The clattering is CACOPHONOUS as they push and shove to race inside. You watch the doorway. Some instinct telling you not to look away. Even as Lanterns and crazy people are shooting at each other not yards away.

Watch. The. Door.

Ghosts come back out. ALIEN Ghosts. Wearing LANTERN rings. Your jaw drops as they just... just KEEP coming. Every last one of them wearing a ring. You struggle to remember how many there WERE. As the sky turns GREEN. As Amity truely DOES become the most haunted place... anywhere.

You're pretty sure in the oceans of GREEN you spot the Justice League. You DEFINITELY spot Phantom. Thank god. No Spooks ever get away with shady nonsense on HIS watch, so whatever happening? 'S gonna get sorted.

And JUST? As you think... maybe, JUST maybe... you could just? Inch your car into drive, and sloooowly get the fuck out of whatever THIS mess it? Those white suited crazy people from the Feds show up and start trying to ARREST the SPACE COPS. For not letting them take unprovoked attacks on OTHER Space Cops!

Oh Shit(tm).

@hdgnj @ailithnight @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes

[thewinterpoet2]

ROXANNE

Jake Peralta x Reader

In which the reader is a secret vocalist outside of work as a detective in the 99th precinct, Jake becomes suspicious which leads to feelings rising to the surface.

WARNINGS: Swearing, themes of crime, theft, interrogation.

Word count: 15,654

Y/N~ Your Name

L/N~ Last Name

The first time Jake started to become suspicious of Y/N was on a random Thursday in December.

It was nearing Christmas which meant crime in Brooklyn had reached a new level of stupid, leading every Detective and Beat Cop to internally curse every black Friday sale to hell for eternity.

The squad of the 99th Precinct tended to be divided around the holidays, Boyle sprung into action, in true Boyle fashion, buying ridiculously expensive gifts for, well, everyone.

Santiago spent countless hours writing Christmas cards, and for the fifth year in a row, apologised incessantly to an exhausted UPS driver as she reluctantly returned all her holiday gifts for Captain Holt.

Gina loved Christmas and celebrated, to some, in what would be a very unusual way. But in her defence, setting up a PO box for her fans, meant she could have a very cheap Christmas. Thrifty and entrepreneurial, that's Gina.

Whereas, some members of the squad weren't as keen on Christmas. We know how Jake feels about Thanksgiving and with no suprise, this translates to his views around Christmas, too.

Rosa Diaz, although she hides it very well, spends Christmas with her family every year. Now her sexuality was out in the open, the healing her family went through have led, thankfully, to a much closer relationship. Rosa would never say this out loud, but knowing that they're fighting in her corner, is the best gift she could have ever asked for.

Oh, but if you asked she'd definitely tell you to "Mind your own fucking business before I get involved in yours" and according to her, "you definitely don't want that, do you?"

Jake Peralta was a great detective but a tricky human being. To put it bluntly, Jake hated Christmas. He hated carols, trees, "little scary elves that show up everywhere", and most of all, romcoms. Jake despised hallmark romance films. Was it because he was single for the 8th Christmas in a row? Who could tell, but he'd certainly deny it if anyone had the courage to ask.

Y/N, was definitely the wildcard out of the squad, especially when it came to the holidays. She'd told every detective the same bullshit tale of how she was going back to England to see her family for the holidays, how her least favourite gift is socks, how more than anything she hates carolling. Because, jesus, no one wants to hear her sing!

Detective L/N was a liar, for many reasons. Yes she was from England but she actually didn't mind socks and the biggest lie of all, maybe she'd convinced the detectives they wouldn't want to hear her sing... But her bandmates and their followers definitely did.

See, Y/N wasn't just a Detective, she was a trained singer, performer and songwriter. After work she tended to dodge Shaw's to head to band practice or straight to a gig, not that anyone had figured that out of course.

Not yet anyway.

Tne first time Jake became suspicious of Y/N was on a random Thursday in December.

Jake and Y/N were in the middle of interrogating a perp, nothing too gruesome or inhumane, a couple counts of petty theft and something that would hopefully have led to a new lead about a future bank heist.

William Dobson was his name.

"Why do all these perps have such boring names, why isn't he called Franco Goldminer"

Peralta turned around, slamming an evidence file onto the nearest desk. Y/N looked unamused at the topic of conversation but not surprised, it was Jake after all.

"Because I'm pretty sure 'Franco Goldminer' is A) too obvious for a criminal B) kind of ironic and C) sounds like an idiot that still lives with his mum in his 30s"

Jake's eyes twinkled at her quick and easy retort, not that she'd have seen that of course.

"Nah I stand by it, he's got a dumb name"

Scoffing Y/N stopped reading the provided statement, sighing in conclusion, rubbing her face with her hands,

"So we've got nothing, Jesus."

Peralta let out a sigh of annoyance,

"L/N why don't you go talk to him, I'll watch and see if he opens up to you"

Giving a cheeky grin he continued,

"I would say you could try annoy him into talking but you basically do that anyway"

Slapping his shoulder Y/N walked straight back into interrogation, ignoring his laughter trailing behind her.

William looks up at Y/N, recognition dawning on his face.

Fuck, this wasn't good.

"So Dobson, recount the night of the 16th for me again, seems some details don't match up from the tapes-"

Mid sentence you're cut off,

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

Y/N made a sound of aggravation at being cut off

"Small world, lots of people. Anyway the footage shows a different time to the one you claim you-"

"Roxanne on 5th right?"

Shit, shit, SHIT. Y/N's blood ran cold at the name of the club she performs at, it's nice to meet fans, just not in the middle of an interrogation.

Fuck she had to play this off cool, nochelant, like nothing happened.

"I don't care about your personal life Dobson, you're here because you're a criminal. Distraction techniques won't work with me, I don't recall being your best friend, Sir"

Awesome she thought, professional and managed to get an insult in at the same time.

"aren't you in that ba-"

Slamming her file onto the table

"Jesus give it a rest you don't know me"

Y/N's voice came out high pitched, aggravated and very, well, unlike her. This was enough to peek Peralta's interest from behind the glass, this wasn't the Y/N he knew, his coworker who hated anything boring but rarely took risks.

Hands up in defeat, Dobson backs down and the interrogation continues as it was before, absolutely useless.

What Y/N didn't know is Peralta was on the other side of the glass, a puzzled expression on his face;

This was the day Jake Peralta made it his mission to investigate further.

"Who are you Y/N?" He mumbled.

A few weeks later, Jake stopped going to Shaws with the squad.

This in itself was confusing for his fellow detectives, Boyle was practically heartbroken thinking that he'd done something to scare his best friend off.

This led to Boyle doing everything he could to try and entice Jake to their bar, regardless of how weird it was.

Boyle is Boyle, he's very extra, but he's got such a big heart and that's all that mattered to Jake.

However, Charles' interference was only causing Jake more stress, his plan needed to be a secret to be able to make this work.

It was a Friday night, the day before New Year's Eve. Y/N had requested annual leave tomorrow, something that was rarely granted on holiday's (thanks again New York) Jake managed to find this much out from a single conversation with Gina, oh, and because the holiday schedule was on a public server but that seemed too easy.

If he wasn't suspicious before, he definitely was now, something was in the water and he simply had to know what was going on.

It's not like Jake was OBSESSED with Y/N, he just wanted to know her on a more personal level and she made that incredibly difficult.

"I like to keep myself to myself, work is work, home is home. Keep them separate"

Her beautiful voice repeated the devastating series of words more times than he'd have liked to have heard them. Never. None. No thanks.

He'd invited her to Shaw's so many times he'd lost count, he'd asked if she wanted to watch Die Hard at his apartment, he'd even asked if he could do more overtime so he could spend more time with her. In the 6 years he'd worked with her he'd made absolutely zero progress, it's hard to fancy someone that doesn't acknowledge your existence.

Jake thinks Y/N is perfect.

Plain and simple.

Starring at her, lost in thought. He thinks about her eyes, how he wishes one day she'd look at him with the same love and happiness he looked at her with. He wonders what their kids would look like, okay Jake that's a bit far you're sounding a bit like Charles, he internally scolds himself.

"JAKE" Y/N snapped her fingers to get his attention, a look that can only be described as concern adorning her features.

"Huh? Oh yes, yes. I agree, yes let's do that. Whatever it was you said" He rambled at the speed of light, pretending to have acknowledged the last 20 mins that don't exist in his mind.

A smirk grew on Y/N's face, something he barely saw but made him feel like the room just got 20 times hotter.

"Oh so you were listening, yeah? Fabulous, so we can go ahead and schedule the hip replacement..."

Jake's eyes grew wide, babbling out some incoherent nonsense he managed to find two words; "HIP REPLACEMENT?"

Y/N couldn't hold back anymore and cried with laughter, barely being able to form any words.

"I was talking to you about someone I booked using their need for a hip replacement as an excuse, I joked she could use yours" wiping away tears, Y/N's laughter dies down seeing his daze and confusion.

"Are you okay, Jake?" Starring him down, he does what he does best, panics.

"I have to go" Jake stands up bolts out the room at top speed, leaving a very concerned Y/N.

Y/N has always liked Jake, he's bubbly, silly, but cares so much about everyone in his life, he'd go above and beyond for anyone and that's something you can't buy. She has wanted to let him into her personal life for a while but mixing personal and professional has never worked in her favour so she stops herself from letting things get weird and complicated again. Life is as complicated as she makes it after all.

Tomorrow Y/N's band were performing at Roxanne again for their NYE party, she was debuting the title song of their new cover album. Y/N has always been such a huge Fleetwood Mac fan, so "Go Your Own Way" definitely made the cut, providing, Jamie and Simon (her bandmates) were okay with that of course. She was excited, finally time to let her hair down and shed any stress from work.

Jake, after running out at top speed, took to his phone, made a few calls and booked a table tomorrow night for nine people.

At Roxanne.

Jake, Charles, Rosa, Amy, Terry, Captain Holt, Gina, Sully and Hitchcock.

And Y/N had no idea.

Well, neither did anyone other than Jake. This was going to be interesting.

The morning of NYE came and Y/N was ecstatic, eating breakfast at lighting speed, grabbing a coffee, brushing her teeth and then heading to the subway, felt like seconds. You know what they say, time flies when you're having fun.

Y/N arrived at Roxanne at just gone 1pm and immediately hugged Jamie who gave a huge grin seeing her arrival.

"Hi baby! Don't you look a treat, you excited for later?"

Blushing and hitting his shoulder Y/N laughed at his brash complimenting.

"Yeah, yeah, save it Jame, where's your boyfriend? He better not be hiding, we're fucked without him"

"Right here gorgeous"

Y/N jumped and let out a sharp gasp seeing him right behind her.

"Don't scare me like that, dick!"

Laughing he pulled her into a hug.

"Ready to blow the world away with your pipes tonight angel?"

Laughing gently she said "As ready as I'll ever be, right let's practice idiots. Then we can grab some food before we have to change"

Y/N had her mind free from work and Jake, but for Jake, well that was another story.

To Jake this was a stakeout, he had no idea whether he'd find a Mafia organisation or nothing at all. He phoned up Roxanne to ask about the event but all they said was to "Check the damn website, it's not 1942 anymore" and the website hadn't been updated in months.

Jake was terrified.

An afternoon turned into the evening and soon Y/N was slipping on a red sequined dress, black knee high boots, two lace black gloves, smokey, dark makeup and her hair was in curls, ready to take to the stage.

Roxanne was bustling already and it had only just gone 8, she was on in 30 mins and this was their moment.

Warmed up and excited, adrenaline coursing through her veins, she jumped up and down to hype herself up, she had got this.

Jake on the other hand, was only just getting ready, nothing too extravagant just a classic shirt, no tie and a jacket, but a clean jacket so it counts, right? The table was booked for 9 and he had no idea what was going to happen or what would be uncovered.

5 minutes to their opening call, Jamie, Simon and Y/N were all hugging and hyping up each other, knowing this was going to be the performance of a lifetime.

The crowd are cheering already, the bar is stacked and there's no space in the room, the floor is filled to the brim full of people and the only remaining space is one singular table on the balcony of the club, a reserved sign sitting neatly in the center.

"LADIES, THEYDIES AND GENTLEMEN, TONIGHT WE TAKE YOU INTO THE NEW YEAR IN STYLE, YOU KNOW THEM, YOU LOVE THEM, IT'S 'CRIME ME A RIVER"

Running out onto the stage, the heat from the stage lights hit Y/N and then everything changed, her body felt warm and she'd never felt more comfortable. The first notes started of Go Your Own Way and she took a breath then started to sing.

Loving you

Isn't the right thing to do

How can I ever change things

That I feel?

The crowd scream at the sound of her voice, the sweet melody carrying through the entire club, out the doors, into the night.

If I could

Baby, I'd give you my world

How can I

When you won't take it from me?

Y/N can't help but think about Jake as she sings, music really is true to the heart and god what her heart wants more than anything is him.

You can go your own way

Go your own way

You can call it

Another lonely day

You can go your own way

Go your own way

Jake and the squad pull up to the club, Terry already confused about why they're at such a random location on NYE when they could be at Shaws or "somewhere that doesn't look straight out of the Rocky Horror Picture Show"

Squeezing through the crowd blocking the entrance to the club, Jake heard Amy gasp.

"Oh my god, Jake"

"No fucking way" Rosa chimed in.

"This is unexpected" Gina remarked.

"Terry did not see this coming" Terry exclaimed.

Tell me why

Everything turned around

Packing up

Shacking up is all you want to do

Looking at his shocked colleagues, Jake followed their eyeline to the stage, seeing Y/N he unconsciously held his breath. She looked out of this world, so out of character from the person he shares a desk space with, but at the same time, she'd never looked more, her. His heart beating faster than the beat of the music, he turned to look at the squad once more, seeing Rosa's smirk, Amy's disbelief, Terry's enjoyment, Boyle squealing like a child at Jake's reaction.

"Oh Jakey, I knew you liked her, I knew it, I can't wait to be best man at your wedding" Charles then carried on monologuing but it all drowned out to Jake who only heard Y/N, oh boy, could she sing.

If I could

Baby, I'd give you my world

Open up

Everything's waiting for you

During this moment he imagined Y/N was singing directly to him, his heart fluttered and in that moment he knew he had to tell Y/N, he just had to. Or he'd explode.

You can go your own way

Go your own way

You can call it

Another lonely day

You can go your own way

Go your own way

All the squad started pushing past the crowd to try and get as near to the stage as possible, ignoring their table completely (well apart from Hitchcock and Scully) cheering, dancing and having a great time. Enjoying every second.

On the last note of Y/N's performance she took a breath and basked in the screaming of the crowd.

"THANK YOU! MY NAME IS Y/N AND WE'RE HERE SO YOU CAN HAVE A GOOD TIME, DO WE WANT A GOOD TIME?"

Hearing a scream of "YES" she continued by saying "OKAY SO HERE'S OUR NEXT SONG, THIS ONE IS A BIT DIFFERENT, IT'S MORE OF A POWER BALLED, ARE WE READY?"

But before the first note could be sang Y/N made direct eye contact with Jake, who was fondly shaking his head in disbelief. She smiled widely and blushed a deep red.

She knew they'd talk after, and he did too. But for now she'd show how she loved him by showing him who she really was, Unapologetically and he loved nothing more.

AUTHORS NOTE: Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this fic, might do a part 2, if you want to be added to a taglist or if you want a part 2 full stop please let me know:) unedited so it's definitely not perfect haha. Enjoy!

#jakeperalta #jakeperaltaxreader #brooklyn99 #brooklyn99fanfic #brooklyn99jake #jake #jakeperalta #jacobperaltaxreader #xreader #charlesboyle #rosadiaz #amysantiago #captainholt #terryjeffords #ginalinetti #scully #hitchcock

[simpjaes]

can we have a maybe part 2 of policeman!jake who takes you out on a few dates and you end up fucking in his car everytime, and later on maybe if you feel like it become something official???

police officer jake! x afab reader part 2 drabble // part one here

this is fluffy as all hell.

The thing about fucking a cop is like, it was fun while it lasted but he reminded you at the end of it, cum all in your shirt simply because he pulled out and didn't want to get any on the patrol car, that he really does have to start ticketing you.

When you looked sad, of course he was quick to follow up with a

"You don't need to commit crimes to get my attention, you know?"

And like, you liked speeding. You liked the way the adrenaline would rush solely for the hot officer that would always pull over and give you warnings with a flirty smile.

You guess it's only natural that he'd actually have to start doing his job at some point, especially after you already gave yourself up to him and ended the game of cop vs slutty crime girl.

You did get his personal number out of it though, which led to several dates where the handsome officer became a regular citizen in some regard. You saw his personal style, with his less combed hair, and his loose t-shirts and jeans.

Arguably, he looked just as good in uniform as he looked out of it. Everything about him turns you on, and he knows it.

With chuckles and smiles throughout dates when you turn every genuine conversation to get to know you into something sexual.

Like when he asked what you do for fun, you off handedly stated "try to get you to pull me over."

Of course, after each date he would also live up to all of your remarks, driving you around in his very normal car and parking in that same spot he had you the first time before dropping you at home.

Always the same thing. His cock pulled out of the zipper of his unbuttoned pants, and you as spread out as you can be in his back seat. Sometimes bent over, sometimes riding it. It really depended on the date.

It was nice though, seeing the difference between his polite and kind self try and talk through a date like he wasn't leaking all in his pants at the outfits you wear or the words you say to him.

After several dates, you invite him into your home. Which he rejects, solely because he believes he should be inviting you to his place. Which, he does do.

"Your place?" He laughed, scanning the way you rub your legs together in the passenger seat. "What kind of guy do you think I am?"

"The kind who will finally fuck me in a house rather than his car?"

He laughed at you again, fondly smirking at the girl he's grown so fond of.

"Well, yes." He admitted before turning the car around. "Would rather see your clothes on my floor though."

You weren't one to argue then, and you certainly aren't one to argue now. Especially with the way he has you in his bed, bouncing and moaning, feeling and seeing him in full for the first time.

With his pretty flushed cheeks and that same bitten smile as he watches you bounce freely, without the confines of car doors or ceilings holding you from moving too much.

It felt like it went on for hours, probably because it did. Over and over again. In his bed, on his bathroom floor, kitchen counter, living room couch. It just kept going, and going.

Every hour or so the two of you would be ready to go again, without fail.

And by the next morning, when you woke up in his messy and dirty sheets next to him, you realized it's the first time you ever slept over with a man you wanted to hook up with.

It was also the first time a man has ever woken up, smiled at you, and ate you out as his breakfast before making you your breakfast.

Oh, right, also the first time you've ever considered a simple fantasy of fucking a cop as not just a fantasy and perhaps more than that.

Especially with the way he drives you home, kisses you on the forehead, and stood awkwardly, not quite letting you go.

He wanted to say something and time was running out, simply because he genuinely did have to go to work and patrol the streets of people who aren't you.

You encourage him with another kiss, squishing your chest in your arms and bouncing slightly.

He laughs at your antics, wondering how someone like you could be interested in someone like him. His eyes staring directly at the bounce of your tits when he finally just says it.

"We should like, date, or be together, or something...i don't know."

Your answer wasn't a mystery to either of you, but still, he knew he had to ask. Mostly because he doesn't want any of his other cop friends spreading out into his territory and eyeing you down much like he did upon that first speeding ticket you received.

[howlingday]

An Offer

Clover: (Walks in) ...You Jauney?

Jaune: Jaune Arc.

Clover: Specialist Ebi. (Sits)

Jaune: ...You alone?

Clover: I'm not that lucky. The only other badge you'd see in here is the health inspector.

Waitress: What can I get ya?

Clover: Just a coffee, thanks.

Waitress: (Pours coffee, Leaves)

Clover: (Pulls out flask) Need a kick?

Jaune: No thanks.

Clover: (Pours into mug) Suit yourself. (Stows) So... You said on the phone you might have a... proposition for me?

Jaune: That's right.

Clover: Well, if you're looking for another stoolie on your payroll, you called the wrong cop. I'm not looking for any... "new friends".

Jaune: Good, because I'm on the run. I can't even pay for the coffee. But I do have something to trade.

Clover: And that is...?

Jaune: ...How long have you been in town?

Clover: Three years. Got my start in Mantle.

Jaune: And they gave you the Branwen case, right out the gate?

Clover: Like I said, I'm not that lucky. And what's it to you if I am?

Jaune: Well, it's a tough case, right? It's probably getting cold by now...

Clover: And you got somethin' to warm it up?

Jaune: Yeah. I got somethin'.

Clover: And what's my end of the deal? Lien? Some kinda immunity?

Jaune: None of that. I have people I need to protect.

Clover: Ah... Family man. Weak point of just about every man, even the crooked ones. So, who you got? Dying mother? Wife and kids-

Jaune: A wife and a daughter.

Clover: And no one else to watch your back, right?

Jaune: I wouldn't be here if that wasn't the case.

Clover: Sorry to hear that. Someone once told me you need friends to survive in this world.

Jaune: Mhm, but in my world, it's the other way around. (Sips coffee)

Clover: Not surprising.

Jaune: ...

Clover: Look, I can't promise you anything for your family. Not until I hear what you're trading. So, are you gonna start talking, or are you just killing time before they come for you?

Jaune: I can-

Clover: No, you can't. Oum's sake, look at you. You've got bags under the bags under your eyes. Twitchin' like you've had more than just this cup here. Your neck's probably sore from all that turnin' you've gotta keep doin'. No, the way I see it, you've got someone REAL powerful on your ass, and they're not givin' up 'til you're bobbin' in the river. Now, if you want to walk out that door without me, be my guest. I'm willing to bet you don't make it five steps before you're someone else's case.

Jaune: ...

Clover: BUT... you stick around, tell me your story, and maybe you've got a shot at seeing your little girl walk down the aisle from her arm, rather than from the clouds. (Sighs) Either way, I'm buying you coffee.

Jaune: ...Fuck, I don't know how it all got so cocked up...

Clover: No one ever sees the trap until they're standin' in it. But you didn't get handed a weapon while you were still in diapers, were ya?

Jaune: ...No. I was a cab driver when I met them...

Jaune: I mostly drove nights 'cause the money was better. I was at the end of my shift when I first met Yang and Qrow...

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

Yang/Qrow: (In screeching car) SHIT!

Jaune: (Checks tire pressure)

Qrow: Son of a bitch!

Yang: LOOK OUT!

Yang/Qrow: (Crash)

Jaune: Huh? (Looks over)

Yang: (Runs over, Turns) C'mon, Qrow! There's a taxi here! We're gonna be okay!

Jaune: (Backs away)

Yang: (Pulls out gun) HEYHEYHEY! Get in the car! NOW!

Jaune: (Gets in)

Yang: (Gets in)

Jaune: Uh, where to?

Qrow: (Gets in) Anywhere. FAST!

Jaune: (Drives)

Yang: I've got a gun pointed at the back of your head! They catch us, we're dead, but that doesn't mean you get to walk away!

Jaune: I-I don't want any trouble!

Qrow: Well, you've got it. Now drive!

Yang: How the hell'd they know we'd be there?

Qrow: Doesn't matter now! We just need to lose 'em! How many cars are following us?

Yang: Just one, but there'll be more.

Jaune: (Getting shot at) Hang on! I'm gonna try something! (Swerves, Escapes)

Yang: HOLY SHIT!

Jaune: Who were those guys?

Yang: Hey, you don't get to ask questions! We need to get across the bridge. Take this right over here.

Jaune: O-Okay...

Yang: Ngh...

Qrow: Your arm okay?

Yang: Hurts like hell. (Winces)

Qrow: When we get back, I'll wake up doc.

Yang: Uh, I dunno... Maybe it'll be okay?

Qrow: Callin' him anyways. And hey, I see you listening, cab driver. You don't get to listen, either!

Jaune: I'm just taking you guys to where you wanna go.

Qrow: Then do that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune: There's more of 'em!

Yang: SHIT!

Jaune: (Rams through blockade) Don't worry, I know a couple shortcuts that'll slow 'em down!

Qrow: I don't care how you do it! JUST DO IT!

Jaune: (Swerves through construction, Causes one to crash)

Yang: That's your shortcut?!

Jaune: I lost 'im, didn't I?

Qrow: Not all of 'em!

Jaune: Man, these guys really don't like you, do they?

Yang: Sometimes business partners fall out. It happens.

Qrow: Shut up, Yang! The more he knows, the more likely he doesn't live to see the sunrise.

Jaune: I didn't hear anything, guys.

Yang: I count three cars down- How many were at the exchange?

Qrow: Uh, four? Five? Knowing her, she's probably called double that by now.

Yang: Definitely feels like it. Knew we should've taken more muscle.

Qrow: Trust me, when SHE hears about this, there'll be hell to pay!

Yang: They just keep coming!

Qrow: We're not safe until we're back on our own turf. Let's get back home!

Jaune: (Speeding up)

Yang: Uh... The bridge is up, dude...

Jaune: Yup. We can make it.

Qrow: What the hell are you doing?!

Yang: Just hang tight and pray!

Jaune: (Jumps the bridge, Lands safely)

Qrow: ...Never flew like that before.

Yang: Me neither...

Qrow: Alright, take us to Little Patch. Now. Your night's not over.

Yang: I didn't see this comin'. You think someone squealed?

Qrow: What I think is you should shut up. We'll talk about it when we get to the bar.

Yang: ...Okay, we're close. Pull over in front of that bar.

Jaune: The Crow Bar?

Qrow: That's the one.

Jaune: (Pulls over)

Qrow: Wait here.

Jaune: Why?

Qrow: ...You wanna get what you earned, right?

Yang: (Gets out)

Qrow: (Carries her inside)

Jaune: (Gulps, Shivers)

Qrow: (Walks out, Reaches into coat)

Jaune: (Holds breath)

Qrow: (Pulls out envelope) This should cover it. Gas, transport, and even the damages. With this, we're even.

Jaune: (Takes the envelope) I... think it's more than enough.

Qrow: Good. Miss Branwen wants you to know she's grateful for what you've done. If you ever need anything- lien for a loan or even a good job, don't hesitate to ask. The Miss doesn't forget her friends.

Jaune: Okay, thanks.

Qrow: ...And one other thing. What happened tonight stays here on this street tonight. Anyone asks where you got the lien, say you won it in a card game. The scratches on your cab? You got 'em from swervin' to save a kitty-cat's life. Got it?

Jaune: Of course.

Qrow: (Nods) See ya 'round, kid. (Leaves)

Jaune: (Inhales, Drives away)

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

Jaune: Fix the cab... Yeah, right. When I opened the envelope, I could've died right there. I almost had enough to buy a new one! I thought about what Qrow said about work. I wasn't interested. Sure, the money was good, but I didn't want to get in with criminals. Better to be poor and alive than rich and dead.

Jaune: So right there, back then, I was out.

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

Jaune: (Drinking coffee)

SMASH!

Jaune: SHIT! What the- (Grabbed)

Melanie: Remember me? (Tosses him) Yeah? (Kicks)

Miltia: (Smashes up cab)

Melanie: Lil' Miss isn't too happy. Maybe you shouldn't go around helping Branwen's little birds, right? (Bends down) Now I have to beat up your pretty, little face, just so you don't forget who owns this city.

Jaune: (Gets up)

Melanie: You won't be walking much for a-

Jaune: (Shoves her into Miltia, Flees)

Melanie: (Giggles) Oh, I love it when they make it fun... LET'S GET HIM.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yang: ...Hey, check it out.

Jaune: (Sprinting across the street)

Melanie/Miltia: (Chasing after him)

Qrow: Hm... Jaune. Long time, no see.

Jaune: (Runs past him, Panting behind)

Yang: (Walks inside)

Melanie/Miltia: (Run up to them)

Qrow: Melanie, Miltiades. You got business with The Miss?

Melanie: No, we don't. We just need to talk to that cab boy behind you. That's all.

Qrow: Yeah? Well, this is The Miss's favorite driver. So, anything you gotta say to him, you can say to me.

Melanie: Is that so? Well, let me tell you something then. We're not leaving here empty-handed.

Yang: (Walks out) Then I guess you ain't leavin' at all~! (Levels shotgun)

Melanie: ...Fine. See you around. Let's go, Miltia.

Melanie/Miltia: (Leave)

Yang: (Cackling)

Jaune: Thanks...

Qrow: Least we could do.

Yang: C'mon~! Let's go say to The Miss~!

Jaune: Miss Branwen?

Qrow: Yeah. She's gonna wanna hear about this.

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

Raven: (Walks in, Sees Jaune)

Jaune: (Gulps)

Raven: (Gestures to seats, Sits down) What's your name, son?

Jaune: Jaune. Jaune Arc, ma'am.

Raven: Qrow said you ran into some trouble?

Jaune: Yes, ma'am. They smashed up my cab really good.

Yang: Malachite's girls went after him, since Jaune helped us-

Raven: (Holds up hand) And your... taxi. This is how you make your lien?

Jaune: Yes, ma'am.

Raven: ...A part of me feels responsible for what happened to you, so I'll set you up with a loan. Just enough to get your cab fixed.

Jaune: I appreciate, ma'am, but I can't accept lien without working for it.

Raven: ...Then why are we here?

Jaune: I want a shot at those bitches who wrecked my cab.

Raven: Heh... You hear that, Qrow? The boy needs my permission to get into a fight.

Qrow: Uh-huh. That's what I heard.

Raven: ...Very well, Jaune Arc. All of Malachite's miscreants hang out at a bar she owns. Yang, you know the one.

Yang: Sure do, boss.

Raven: Good. You can ride with Jaune then. There's a place right next to the bar where they park their cars. Give 'em a make-over. Send Malachite a message. She can't rough up good, honest working-class folks in MY turf without getting a black eye!

Jaune: Thank you, Miss Branwen. I won't let you down.

Raven: (Nods) ...And Jaune, when you get back, I want to have a discussion about what's next for you.

[callme-dickmaster]

Basket Case

Ch. Six - Involved

summary: police begin to question you about a party you weren't present for, but friendships have you involved now cw: this may be v long, afab! reader, minimal use of y/n, language, bullying, monsters oooo author's note: every day I struggle to find content warnings in these chapters.

Thursday, November 10th, 1983

You groaned and scrunched your eyes when you felt Dustin wriggling away from you that morning. "Dustin?" you grunted, rubbing your eyes. "I'm just going to Mike's for a bit. To...mourn?" he said. You were too tired to question the fact that he sounded unsure of what he was doing, so he was gone. A couple hours later when you couldn't fall back asleep, you groaned and checked the time.

11:32

"Fuck's sake..." you sighed, stomping into the kitchen to grab a Pop-Tart and begrudgingly driving to school. "Miss Henderson! You're very late!" the secretary squealed, writing a tardy slip. You rolled your eyes, taking the slip and walked to class.

"Hello, y/n. Nice of you to join us," Mrs. Click said, giving you a look. You put your head down and walked to your seat. You ignored Steve staring at you and started scribbling away in your notebook. "Y/n Henderson? Can you come with me, please?" the assistant principal called, standing in the doorway. You grabbed your things and followed her into the cafeteria where two police officers and your mother were sitting waiting for you.

"Hi, y/n. We just wanted to ask you a few questions..." Powell asked, giving you a small smile.

"You're not in trouble, are you, y/n?" your mother whimpered. If she had pearls, she'd be clutching them. You shrugged, "Shouldn't be..." you mumbled.

Powell shook his head, trying to reassure your mother. "No, ma'am, we just need to ask her some questions about a fellow student who may be in danger," he said. Clearly, this man had never met Claudia Henderson. You were certain that made her anxiety about your involvement spike even higher.

They took a few minutes to ask you basic questions about what you had been doing the night Barb disappeared and the day leading up to the party. "And you said that you were invited to the party?" Powell asked. You nodded, pulling a knee up to your chest. "You sure?" Callahan asked. You narrowed your eyes at him, making him back off.

"A-anyway...why didn't you attend the party?" Powell asked, "I didn't want to. I didn't like anyone that was there. And I really didn't feel like going to a party just to get picked on..." you sighed, biting your nails. The cops nodded, making notes of your responses in their notepads. You assumed Callahan's would be the dumbest of the two.

"So, if you didn't like whoever was there why would you pick up a...Nancy Wheeler?" Callahan asked, flipping through his notes.

You shrugged, "I dunno...I don't hate Nancy. Our brothers are friends, so we've known each other for a while, and she needed a ride home. I didn't think anything of it," you said. Powell nodded, "So, after you took Nancy back to yours did she say anything about the party? Anything that happened with Barbara?" he asked. You shook your head, humming a "nope."

"Nothing about why she might have left? No mention of an argument...or a Steve Harrington?" Callahan asked. You pursed your lips and shook your head again. "Nothing. She just wanted to crash at my place so her mom wouldn't get on to her," you made absolutely sure not to mention Jonathan and his pictures to keep him out of trouble. You still wanted to look out for him. You still thought of him as a friend.

"And you think that you saw some kind of bear behind the Harrington kid's house?" Powell asked.

You shrugged, "Something like that. It kinda looked like a really skinny guy in a mask. Really creepy. Me and Nancy both think that maybe whoever it is had something to do with Barb not being around." Callahan leaned his elbows on the table.

"Well, we took a look through the woods behind the house, and we didn't find anyone and there was no car either. We think Barbara came back last night and took off. Maybe ran away. Would you know anything about that?" he asked. You shrugged and shook your head, "I didn't even know Barbara until Nancy asked me for help, so...no," you said. The policemen asked more stupid questions about a party you weren't even present for and released you back to class.

"I'll see you at home, okay? I love you bunches!" your mom said, kissing your cheek. "Love you..." you sighed, walking back into your classroom.

Everyone had moved their desks together and were talking away about projects or who would be at the mall later and Steve sat alone writing in his notes. You silently sat beside him and pulled your notebook out to continue working on your half of the project.

"Um...hey," Steve said quietly.

You glanced at him and nodded, continuing to write in your book. "Did they call you to talk to the cops?" he asked. You nodded again, still trying to focus on writing.

"I wasn't even at the party so...don't know why they even wanted to talk to me," you mumbled. Steve hummed and nodded, not really sure how to talk to you. He was so used to people worshipping the ground he walked on that when he talked to you he was thrown for a loop. You clearly couldn't care less about him, and he wasn't sure if he liked that or not. Either way, he knew you weren't supposed to be on his mind like you had been.

"I mean...you and Nancy have been hanging out recently, so..." Steve trailed off. He didn't know where he was going with that, but he was curious and wanted to dig and see what changed all of a sudden that made you and Nancy best friends.

"So? That's not their business," you grumbled, your pencil lead snapping. Steve just said a quiet "yeah..." and went back to his side of the project.

"Um, would you maybe wanna come over and work on this? Together?" Steve asked hesitantly when you began packing up your things. You looked at him suspiciously, "You want me to come to your house?" you asked.

Steve stuttered and nodded, "Y-yeah! Why not?" he shrugged.

"Uh, because you're you and I'm the "spaz of Hawkins" duh," you deadpanned.

The bell rang and you took off without answering him any further which Steve took as a big fat "NO." You sighed, stomping into the school's red room and stopped when you saw Jonathan and Nancy standing in there.

"Oh! ...Hey," you said slowly. Jonathan jumped at your arrival and scrambled to cover up what they were doing. "H-hey!" he smiled nervously. You gave him a look then looked at Nancy. "What're you up to?" you asked. Nancy sighed, "I think the pictures Jonathan took at Steve's can help us find out what happened to Barb," she said.

You hummed and nodded, taking a seat at the counter you always sat at. "Cool. What is it?" you asked. "Um...w-we don't know," Jonathan said quietly. You shrugged, "I'll help you," you said. "Really?" Nancy raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I don't have anything better to do. And...I guess we're friends now, so..." you sighed.

Nancy slowly smiled and nodded, seeming proud of herself. "Nancy thinks that thing my mom's been seeing might've taken her. She said you guys saw something at Steve's," Jonathan said, glancing between you both. You hummed and shrugged, leaning your chin on your hand. "I thought it was just some guy in a mask or something," you shrugged. "No, it sounded like an animal..." Nancy muttered.

You nodded and eyed the picture they were developing. "Maybe it's a monster," you snickered. Nancy rolled her eyes playfully and looked at the picture as it slowly developed. "That's it," Nancy said softly, seeing the creature that formed in the photo.

You leaned on the counter, looking at the photo. "That's exactly it," you nodded. "My mom...I thought she was crazy because she said th-that's not Will's body. That he's alive..." Jonathan said, staring at the picture.

You shook your head, slowly tilting the tub to look closer. "This kind of stuff isn't real..." you whispered. "I guess we were wrong about that..." Nancy mumbled. You nodded, staring down at the photo as it sat as a black square in the tub of acid.

<3

[xhollowfaerie]

silverv drabbles #7

a/n: taking a break from the brain-erosive essay i have to finish to post this sexual tension/angst/"we're arguing like a shriveled up married couple" snippet I wrote a few days ago bc they're my meowmeows and I love when they have sexually charged screaming contests with each other <333

warnings: angst, aggressive arguing, Johnny being our favorite toxic boyfriend (it's a joke pls don't come for me)

V stormed into her Megabuilding H10 apartment, tossing her Second Conflict jacket off with disdain. Johnny’s eyes followed it as it dropped to the floor, rolling his eyes. Ah, shit, here we go again.

“I'm not your little fuckin’ girlfriend, Johnny!”

His mouth gaped, letting out an incredulous huff before his hands settled on his hips. “Who the fuck said you were?” His head shook in disbelief before shifting his weight to the other leg with a sneer. “Even I wouldn't stoop so low to bone some ‘Saka bitch. Still got a moral compass, y’know.”

She was furiously fiddling with a crystal decanter of scotch on the counter, finally managing to pour a sizable amount into a glass and turning to him with a fierce raise of her voice. The alcohol swayed dangerously back and forth as she motioned, a few drops splattering away from their confines and onto the carpet. “FUCK you and FUCK your compass! Matter of fact,” she held her hands up, taking a hearty sip. Exhaled. And glared at him again with renewed fervor, “I'm this close to sticking it so far up your ass you start singing in Japanese when it comes out the other side.”

He couldn't even find a witty retort, simply glaring daggers at her as she stomped in his direction, trying his best to ignore the infuriatingly sexy sound of her heels clacking against the floor and suppress a laugh. Shit, he lo- …maybe liked her humour. A little. Barely.

She aimed a manicured finger at his chest, holding it over his heart like a blade ready to strike. His skin prickled in anticipation right where it almost grazed him. “You're the one getting ridiculously jealous anytime I so much as breathe next to another man!”

He wanted to laugh in her face, but they both widened their eyes at the shared emotion that went through them. Another man. Like Honourable Prince Corpo, Mister “Under Other Circumstances”, her knight in shining armor? Like Mister Goody Two Shoes beat cop who was so disgustingly infatuated with her it made him sick - not to mention - fine, it pissed him the fuck off.

“I can literally feel you seething, you FUCKING GONK!”

“Holy fuck, V - do me a favor and just SHUT the FUCK. UP! Man, can you quit your bitchin' for a single fuckin’ second?”

“Thought you loved it when bitches screamed at you! What, mommy didn't give you enough goodnight kisses?”

“Why, wanna do something about that? Just askin’, seein’ as you insist on wearing that red fucking lipstick that drives me up the wall every damn day! Been thinkin’ it’d look great on my-”

“UGH, Johnny! You're SO disgusting! Stop. Talking.”

“Mind gettin’ your claws off my bicep, then? You're gropin’ me like a starved cougar.”

She let out a noise of disgust and immediately retreated once the realization hit her, whipping her hand as if to flick his germs off of her, crossing her arms in front of her chest. That was… unsettling. Neither of them had realized just how close they had gotten to each other during their yelling contest. Truthfully, she had grown much too used to his presence. She’d also rather go back to Arasaka before confessing that she’d lately begun to even… crave it. V downed the rest of her liquor before slamming the glass back down.

“You’re delusional, and pathetic. Have you maybe considered that not every woman wants to play with your egocentric, easily excitable little weiner?” 

“No, I haven’t, cause every woman and her fuckin’ boyfriend wanna take my magnificent Rottweiler out for a walk. And please, spare me the bullshit. Real big talk, comin’ from the bitch who got all wet when some BD spinner made her a fuckin’ sandwich. I ain’t no Prince Charming, but that was just sad. Tell me you got some semblance of TLC from a single gonk your entire life? There’s gotta be more than what I’ve seen in your past.”

The words were out before he had the time to think them over, immediately wishing he’d swallowed them, watching memories twist her face with heartbreak. He cussed under his breath, trying to reach a hand out when she balled her fists so hard her knuckles turned white. The delay of the pain as her nails sharply dug into her palm only furthered his descent into regret.

“V, I didn’t-” “Yeah, Johnny, there was a single person who showed me true love, and it wasn’t your superficial type bullshit. We weren’t fuckin’, it was never romantic. He was my fucking friend. My brother. Maybe you’d know somethin’ about that if you hadn’t ruined the life all the people who actually considered you one, like that poor fuckin’ bastard Kerry. I feel more and more sorry for him every day.”

He knew he shouldn’t, but he snarled. “Keep him out of it-” “Yeah? Like you keep Jackie outta your fuckin’ mouth? Every chance you get, you shove him, or Goro, or River, or fuckin’ Jenkins, hope that bastard’s rotting in hell, right in my face! Fuck’s sake, I’m not one of your little groupies, you insensitive, selfish asshole! And you know what? Even they had fuckin’ feelings that you trampled all over, just like you’ve done with every single person who ever gave a single shit about you. Just like you did with Rogue and just like you did-” “V, don’t-” “With Alt.”

Johnny acted before his - her - oh, who fuckin’ cares - their? brain, or the Relic, or CPU, or whatever the fuck had time to process it. Overtaken with anger, just like when they first met, he marched up to her and slammed her into the wall behind her by the shoulders, baring his teeth with aggression.

“What is it you want from me, huh? Want me to say I fucked up? Want me to admit I’m just a piece of shit? Think you can boss me around like all the cucks back at ‘Saka? Worse, think I’m your little choom? That we’re close? Let me tell you somethin’, V. You don’t know the first fuckin’ thing about me. The only reason I haven’t taken over your gonk fuckin’ brain is ‘cause I was still hopin’ you’d be useful. Well, turns out, I was wrong.”

She didn’t so much as flinch. Valerie’s expression was blank; the emptiness in her eyes reminded him much more of what she used to be like before she’d met Jackie. Johnny recalled - in the worst moment - feeling glad that they hadn’t met when she was still at ‘Saka, ‘cause that would’ve been a universe where they were guaranteed to kill each-other in cold blood. 

When she spoke, her voice was steady, calculated. Distant. “You done?”

She shoved him off without so much as a glance. Johnny scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he paced away. “Yeah. Sure. We’re done.”

Mechanically, V poured another glass of scotch and used it to swallow an omega blocker pill. Johnny’s eyes flickered to her, lowering as he glitched out of her peripheral. She kicked her heels off and slid down the wall, burying her face between her knees, still holding onto her glass. The liquid swayed ever so slightly, her apartment now dead quiet as her body released a series of soundless sobs.

[gigglebone6]

ithink this is what tumblr would be like in the dogman universe: a simulator

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

can those villain asshats get control of those goddamn monsters i have lost literally every single fucking thing thanks to those brainless pieces of shits last week a fucking T-REX SKELETON destroyed my fucking HOUSE and everything around it

🪻 inmylane-1999

how are you able to say those words

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

what words?

🪻 inmylane-1999 the a word, f word, and s word

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

oh i see you're one of the Collardale inhabitants. screw the fuck off your town is a CURSE

🪻 inmylane-1999

what did i do? :(

10 notes

🪰 greenweirdthingwithteeth follow

hnstly i dont get y Daryl hangs arnd that pig guy hes rlly mean & bad

🐊 piethrowingboss

didnt u help us go after him when he ditched us after the mini jail broke 2 bits?

🪰 greenweirdthingwithteeth follow

yeh butt hes still rlly mean & i was a lil moar concerned 4 Daryl

🐊 piethrowingboss

ohhhh kk

5 notes

🐕 zupabuddiezthezenutz

zomg did u guyz watch that new mini-documentary w/ Petey The Cat n Zarah Hatoff??? that waz tragickk..

#holy shart i have so much moar respect 4 him now..

6 notes

🔄 24hotdogsatyourdoorstep reblogged

🌆 icareforyou follow

still dont know why people are supporting Petey Duckhat just because of that documentary, didn't he terrorize the city for more than a month or two?? ntm he quite literally MUTILATED Officer Knight and Greg The Dog's bodies bad enough with that bomb to where they had to become that sick and horrible abomination i have to stomach through seeing on the news every week.

😀 randomcivillian-956 follow

i know right?? like hes genuinely a horrible cat but people are supporting him for no other reason other than "oh hes a victim!!" like shut the fuck up and grow up.

comicpanel-deactivated-98325749857

op i wouldn't say DogMan is sick and horrible, he seems to be in great condition despite such an accident and hard surgery to conduct, and looks perfectly happy. while i don't support Petey Duckhat either, you took it a step further and suggested that DogMan is currently in conditions horrible enough to render him an "abomination".

🌆 icareforyou follow

dont you post tips for fucking evil monsters on your blog.

#LMAOOO dude was SLAUGHTERED so hard they deactivated #redogs

1,509 notes

🌭 24hotdogsatyourdoorstep

walking on the street with a small can of living spray in my pocket and the nearest cop explodes into blood guts and viscera

10 notes

🦷 bigmonsterinyourheart

okay i get that Dr. Scum is a real and kinda sucky person and all that but his labcoat kinda fucks!!

0 notes

✨ lookatthestars

Hot take or whatever but I don't think we should trust a guy who gets really distracted by squirrels and balls and a kitten who could easily get hurt to protect our city. Lightning Dude IS one of the better options as they ARE a highly durable and strong robot, but The Bark Knight and Cat Kid maybe aren't our best bets, they could get hurt easily and aren't exactly professionals.

Don't get me started on the Friendly Friends, I don't think we can trust two guys who JUST left the same exact trio that was responsible for that marshmallow factory's destruction (which left many injured, some DEAD), what if they're pretending? Also the bugs could easily get killed, they're small and fragile, the most work they can do without a high risk of getting smashed is spying on villains.

Commander Cupcake's a different story, as I'm pretty sure that guy only helped out, like, 3 times.

#anti-supa buddies #anti-friendly friends #twinkle twinkle little star

15 notes

🪁 lalalalala89

dude imagine if we were in a book rn and ppl were posting on tumblr abt us

0 notes

🎠 supastarr

remember, calico trans toms are perfectly valid! even cis toms can be calicos, and fur pattern doesn't determine exact gender, especially with fur dying technology nowadays! :)

506 notes

[squiddleknitted]

Watching the new James Somerton apology.

Bold move monetising your apology video. The revenue will go to HBomberGuy! Or Wikipedia maybe!?

The focus on how so many people were nice to him feels like he's suggesting nobody should criticise him now that he's been forgiven by the people he personally and directly wronged.

There's an awful lot of weight being placed on "I'm a cis white man." It's like he's trying to take the blame off himself and put it onto the cisness, whiteness, and maleness. Being a cis white man means he will always be flawed, it's a way of avoiding his responsibility for his actions.

He called the fucking cops on someone. He claims the person, "Did an internet and threatened to kill me." He then follows this up by acknowledging that, "Cops don't usually have the best interests of people at heart." I'm not familiar with the Jessie topic but this video explores it and offers context.

Lots of "We tried too hard to be good and that was our real downfall" type bullshit.

On Telos: "These were not going to be unionised movies, and we were very clear about that upfront. We wanted to be able to pay actors as best that we could, but we never expected to be able to reach typical union wages." Do I even need to say it?

Lots of throwing Nick under the bus. What are Nick's pronouns? James goes from using exclusively they/them to exclusively he/him. There's a line about how him and Nick were codependent that makes me wonder if abuse/toxicity allegations are in the future?

He's talking an awful lot about how every movie he tries to do has issues and he inevitably had to move to a new movie plan. Surely he should've just. Focused on how to fix the issue?

He's getting really into the suicide topic again. In a way that would be better saved for close friends and therapists.

Supposedly several people showed up at his house trying to harm him while he was not there. I'm a little skeptical. This is the first I've heard of anyone having his address, and while I'm sure he received threats, I can't imagine anyone is so invested as to actually go to his house.

He is re-uploading videos, including new videos. The re-uploaded videos are monetised and the money will be going... Somewhere.

"I know that misinformation made its way into our past videos." Well, it didn't write itself?

He has put together a new Patreon, and claims he will not be reopening the old one.

"This video is not about promoting myself." And yet, you have spent much of it doing exactly that.

He hasn't acknowledged the ways that some of his work upheld misogynistic and racist views? 43 minute video and he couldn't manage a, "I should've been more normal about nazis," or, "I said some mean things about women."

[lassieposting]

So anyway, things I've been thinking about this morning: Garrus Vakarian probably likes foreign films

Like.

Turians are the Proud Soldier Race Guys. They have an incredibly rigid, collectivist, by-the-book kind of culture, where every single individual is obligated to spend a good chunk of their formative adolescent/young adult years in the military, where Turian Ideals are hammered into them. So they don't seem like they'd have a big media scene glorifying tropes which go against their general cultural values - specifically, in this case, an individual going outside standard procedures to Get Shit Done on their own terms.

And this is a trope that Garrus loves. When we first meet him, he's sick of being the Good Little C-Sec Cop who follows orders and gets swamped with red tape and can't get the bad guy because Procedure Says No. He clearly sees himself as/wants to be the cowboy cop, detective-gone-rogue type, and he's got a pretty romanticised idea of what that would look like in his head. Bless him.

But. He's learned about that trope from somewhere, and I can't really see it being his own people. Especially with a father like Castis, who's so staunchly exactly what's expected from a turian. He seems like the type who'd have strong opinions about what his kids are reading and watching and being influenced by, because while he obviously loves Garrus, he wants him to grow up to fit a certain mould. The Turian version of the wish-fulfilment vigilante flick is the Spectre Movie, but Garrus isn't allowed to watch those, because Castis doesn't approve of Spectres being Outside The Law.

So baby Garrus grows up lowkey feeling stifled by the way society works, and maybe that's a problem with him, so he gets his head down and does his best to be a Good Turian and make his dad proud, and then he gets his discharge papers and goes to work for C-Sec, and suddenly he's living on the Citadel by himself, and he's got free time nobody is telling him to do X or Y with. He's basically moved away from home for the first time - the Citadel is not Turian-controlled, it's a thriving multicultural melting pot with plenty of people living there who don't exactly conform to Turian standards, he's got colleagues with interests he's never even heard of, and he's gonna start seeing new things.

Human superhero films and cop movies with lots of explosions and no paperwork. Small-budget Batarian short films about victorious anti-Hegemony rebellions. Even his own people's Spectre films. Some kid selling drugs in the wards has a Batman comic in his confiscated backpack? Garrus borrows it to browse on his lunch break. Some Salarian ex-STG operative publishes a memoir? Garrus reads it on the shuttle to work. All these people who feel like he does.

Like. Give me Archangel who regularly spouts lines from Batman or X-Men or Krogan Thunder 3 (or whatever the fuck else he's been watching) as part of his Good Guy Victory Speeches, that makes at least one of his multispecies team who Knows That Franchise pull up short and go "Oh my god, you're a nerd."

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

chapter 6

warnings: warnings: warnings: swearing, divorce, suggestive jokes, Roman makes self deprecating jokes (mostly about his weight and money situation), kate is an asshole and drunk, mention of sex

“Kate.” Roman growled. “Don’t.” My gaze kept flicking between the two. My mind was trying to piece together how those two had ever gotten together in the first place. Especially when Kate looked like she belonged on the cover of Forbes or vogue or something, expensive clothes and jewelry paired together.

“why not?” She asked, pouting. “Never took you for the goth type.” Roman tensed and I tried to pull away from him but he held me tightly. She looked me over and Roman pushed me behind him slightly.

"What the fuck do you want Kate?" Roman asked, sighing and squeezing my arm where it was still wrapped around him. "I don't have the kids. You know that. It's your time with them." Kate rolled her eyes at him.

"But you were supposed to pick them up from Chet's an hour ago asshole." She snapped. Roman frowned and looked at his watch.

"No I wasn't." He said. "I don't get them until next weekend. Since your wonderful lawyer decided I wasn't fit to be alone with them for more than a few hours a week." I tightened my hold on Roman as Kate narrowed her eyes at him. “Thanks for that by the way.” Kate rolled her eyes.

“Well if you’re going to be such a stuck up asshole…” Kate trailed off turning her gaze to me. “Maybe I should tell this bitch…”

“Katherine!” Roman cried as loud as he dared since we were still in the hallway.

“Just what kind of man you are.” She continued, giving him an evil grin. Roman tightened his hold on me and pushed me further behind him. She started walking over towards us, swaying with every step.

“Dammit.” Roman muttered. “She’s drunk.”

“so what do we do?” I whispered. Roman kept himself between the two of us as he moved towards his door.

“follow my lead. We’ll lock her out here and I’ll call…I don’t even know who she’s dating right now.” Roman winced as Kate fell into the wall with a thud. “Fuck it I’ll call Connie.” Roman managed to get his door open and both of us inside as Kate slid down the wall.

“Roman!” She yelled as Roman locked the door, leaning heavily on it and taking a deep breath. “Why won’t you have sex with me anymore?” I raised an eyebrow at that.

“last argument we had. During the filings. She showed up drunk and I was pissed off and she wanted a friends with benefits thing. I said no. So she…started screaming about our sex life in front of the judge.” Roman shrugged.

“how she ever got custody of your kids I’ll never understand.” I shook my head.

“I lied remember? And she blamed me on the mine shaft thing. Said I was supposed to be watching them when she told them to stay in the car.” Roman responded. He finally found the phone number he’d been looking for and dialed. “Connie? Oh hi Chet. No everything…well Kate’s outside my door…yeah asking why I didn’t pick up the girls…right…” while Roman talked to his brother in law I sat down on his couch. I ran my hands over my face and glanced at the door where Kate was still yelling after Roman.

“roman?” I said softly. He looked up and told Chet to hold on. “Tell him to be quick or someone’s gonna call the cops.” Roman nodded and relaid my message.

“yeah…I guess…thanks Chet. Say good night to the girls for me.” Roman said before hanging up. “Their car broke down.” He said, smirk on his face.

“how convenient.” I said, leaning into him. We listened to Kate for a minute before I tilted my head to look up at him. “Should we be the ones to call?” Roman chuckled and grabbed the phone again.

“I don’t see why not.” He said dialing the phone. “Yes hello. I’d like to report a public disturbance. There is a drunk woman screaming outside my apartment. Late 30s. Dark hair. Caucasian. Well dressed.” Roman paused for a second before giving the building number and his apartment number. “Ok. Thank you.” He hung up and looked at me with a smile. “Not the first complaint of the night.” We both started laughing as Kate moved on to complaining about how roman was in bed.

“For fucks sake does she ever talk about anything but sex?” I groaned. Roman rolled his eyes.

“money.” He said. “Which I don’t have so she can’t complain about that.” Roman took a deep breath before taking my hand. “Come on. It should be quieter in my bedroom.”

“taking me to your bedroom already Mr. Craig? I’m flattered.” I giggled. Roman chuckled as he led me down the hall to his room.

“It was only a matter of time before I brought you here anyway.” Roman teased. “Maybe not for nefarious purposes but I mean I’ve got a tv in here and we can cuddle. Beds pretty comfortable honestly. I mean not the softest or firmest but…” I kissed Roman and cupped his cheeks.

“Roman.” I smiled softly at him. “You don’t have to sell me on it. I know we’re not going to do anything back here. I’m happy just to cuddle with you.” Roman smiled at me before kissing me softly again.

“ok.” He whispered. “I just…with Kate…” Roman sighed as we both climbed on the bed. I laid on his chest, tilting my head against his neck. Roman wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. I put my hand over his heart and closed my eyes, smiling softly as he turned on the tv. “You ok?” He asked finally. “I know meeting Kate that way wasn’t on your list of things to do.”

“I don’t think it was even on my list to begin with.” I chuckled, rubbing his chest. “Like at all. I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t her. I didn’t think I could honestly. Whenever you talked about her, I just wanted to hit her. She put you through so much Roman. So much unnecessary shit. I just…” Roman tilted my head up and kissed me hard.

My lips moved against his, hands curling into the black sweater he was wearing. I hummed as he pulled back for a second before diving back in. Roman rolled me on my back, hands framing my hips. Lowering himself, Roman’s forearms trapped me on the bed. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tugged him further down onto me. I played with his hair as we lazily made out.

“Roman.” I moaned as he ground down against me. Roman paused and drew back. I stared up at him with a smile.

“spend the night.” He whispered. “Please. Spend the night.”

“I’d love to.” I breathed out. Roman smiled and buried his face in my neck. He leaned more of his weight against me. “I do need to go back to my apartment for pajamas though.” Roman shook his head.

“wear mine.” Roman whispered. I smiled up at his ceiling.

“if you think you can handle it.” I teased. Roman pulled back with a smile.

“I think I can.” He responded before kissing me soundly.

[httpsawesome]

okay sorry this one's a lot but I'm sooooo curious about your thoughts here. you don't have to answer all of them!! I'm just very indecisive I have no idea which ones to pick but They're in my head rn

☂️🕊️🔒🪢🌊🕯️🧩🌀 kim

☂️🕊️🔒💼📿🪢🌊🕯️🧩🍻🌀 jean

OMG OMG OMG THANK YOU AHHHHH i do want to answer them all!! but i think it'll get quite long. this response will be JUST Kim thoughts and then I'll reblog this later with all the Jean ones

Do they crave touch or fear it?

So we know Kim doesn't fear casual touch really at all, he doesn't hesitate to reach out for a pat, but I do think he'd be very careful and very aware of engaging in any touch in public that could be interpreted non-platonically. But he also, I think, craves the freedom to hold hands and kiss in public. Maybe in better times the next generation will not have to be so scared of it, but not currently, and not for him.

When did they feel the safest?

This is very interesting to think about because currently it doesn't feel like Kim feels all that safe in his day to day life. Like, he has a dangerous as hell job and he's very quickly to assume the deadliest scenario and think about the things he needs to do to keep others safe (and primarily others in my mind, I think he is refusing to deal with some serious survivor's guilt and wouldn't hesitate really at all in sacrificing himself for others).

I think he feels safest when alone in his home/space. Especially if the doors are locked and he isn't sitting with his back against them/any windows. He probably has his favorite armchair positioned in the exact right position to see everything he needs to and only then does that prickly, fearful voice in the back of his mind finally quiet down.

What is a secret they've sworn never to tell?

Oh this one was really hard for me to picture, and my first instinct was to imagine another sad moment from his childhood, but I don't want to keep doing that to Kim! Not every minute of his time growing up is angsty!

I can picture him late teens to early 20s, before he joined the RCM (I doublechecked and it says he joined at age 23) and he was getting high with his temporary group of friends. This is during his rebellious phase, and I think he bought the weed they were all smoking at the time, and it's getting late. Everyone but him and one other guy in the group are passed out and they're talking, and the guy is blasted so he confesses to Kim that he has a crush on him but then immediately starts panicking. Gets Kim to swear to not tell anyone, he just needed to tell somebody cause it was eating him up inside. And Kim swore to not tell anyone. Did they become a thing? I don't think so, maybe they kissed though.

When was the last time they broke a promise?

GAH THIS ONE IS ALSO HARD TO PICTURE

For his job, he has to give a lot of promises that he has no way of actually following through even if he wants to. He probably promised a ton of kids that everything was going to work out just fine when he knows they likely aren't.

When was the last time they cried?

He tries to be so composed in public that I can imagine him coming home from a bad day and lingers at the kitchen sink for a little bit, in complete silence, not even taking his jacket off yet. And the weight of the day just gets progressively heavier and heavier and he lets himself cry for a little and then he goes and takes a shower. This isn't enough to have his daily cigarette early though.

This happens more often then it probably should. Couple of times a month.

What memory do they replay when they're alone?

He probably remembers a lot of kids that he came across in his time as a juvie cop. Kids he feels like he failed, ones he feels like he helped but didn't help enough. They stick with him.

What's a truth about themselves they refuse to admit?

HE'S GOT CONTROL ISSUESSSS I think he refuses to acknowledge that he has major control issues

Like?? His reasoning for taking the fuck the world and piss f//got jackets is just he doesn't want them to have it. Literally he sees other people doing something he doesn't like and doesn't get why and he uses his power as a cop to put a stop to it. He doesn't see this as control issues or that he's abusing his power and he thinks this is just a completely rational and okay thing for him to do.

Do they have a recurring dream or nightmare?

I cannot remember if this is actually canon or is a headcanon I've believed for so long that I forgot it is a HC, but I know he has a regular reoccurring nightmare about the incident where Dom dies. And it's centered on how he feels like he failed him and didn't do enough.

and this is unrelated from the thoughts I just shared, but whenever I think about Kim's nightmares I think of this fanfic from an anonymous author and I think it's very written written. Highly recommended! It does explore bullying and has scary/nightmarish imagery.

WOO THIS WAS FUN and I typed a lot O.O I'll answer Jean's a little later! Thank you again anon <3 <3

[allwormdiet]

Tangle 6.8

I hate this man's vibe

Don't separate her! From her dogs! Let them get in the limo!

This is so fucking funny

Coil is trying to flex on a pack of teenagers with a coin trick

and Skitter's immediate response was "okay hang on fucker, I'm supplying the coin for this trick"

and is only satisfied after that

...Also man, when's the last time i saw a dollar coin anywhere, huh

So, having been spoiled on how Coil's power works (in my defense, I went like three or four years knowing about this series before I even considered reading it), I can't help but feel like this is simultaneously a petty means of flexing power and a melodramatic means of describing it.

I kinda suspected Tattletale was playing carefully with her word choices when talking about the boss, nice to see the confirmation.

...Now that I think about it... Hmm. Three of the six groups at the table in Somer's Rock were under Coil's command, and when Tattletale was talking about how everyone but "Grue and maybe Faultline" was planning to take advantage of the truce to advance their cause, that didn't mean that the Undersiders weren't part of those plots. It turns out to have been the opposite.

...Tattletale, I think you're my favorite, but I'm watching you like a goddamn hawk now

Taylor seems to have a lot of "not-best calls" when it comes to people, huh

Also oh boy the Travelers have some shit going on huh

and that's not just whatever is souring their teamwork and communication

...Did Coil practice this? Was there a rehearsal period for his speech, getting the timing down right for the window's speed and the emergence from the tunnel? I can't escape the feeling that he spent at least a day on this, maybe a week

And, yeah, ambitious is a word for it. Man wants to control every aspect of an entire city? He wants to play the cops and the robbers and the bankers and the... whoever else exists in this metaphor? Just play Sim City, honestly, or get into 4X games. If we could just get this man hooked on Crusader Kings or something the world would be a lot safer

I'll grant that he's making a good play at this if nothing else. Certainly not going to cry for the collapse of the Empire, fucking Nazis that they are, and none of the other criminal organizations seem both able and willing to make any kind of major play.

...Though that doesn't preclude groups from outside the city, does it. You could have people from New York or Boston or whatever decide that some expansion is in order. Hmm.

Oh he's doing a real estate scheme, okay. So now we're in a Ryo ga Gotoku main plot. This is a lot easier to follow, I just have to keep an eye out for the Millennium Tower

...Also, Taylor. Are you confident this man isn't also putting moles in the Protectorate and PRT? Like, c'mon now. Bribing government employees works no matter the agency. I'm not gonna say it's beneath the Protectorate's notice, far from it, but a web this intricate means there's no way he's not accounting for multiple angles

...Okay so in The Order of the Stick, there's a sideplot involving a group of former adventurers who realized that they could take over most of a continent through an everchanging map of alliances, conquests, and treachery, with all of them acting as the hidden powers behind multiple thrones and keeping up the appearance that there was no singular rule, so that their own control over the territory had multiple points of failure.

Coil's plan sounds... similar. He's trying to carve up the city between multiple lieutenants who themselves belong to different organizations, with him as the secret mastermind at the heart of it all. Main difference in these two plans is, of course, that Coil is only one man, and also that he's telling his puppets ahead of time that he's the actual shot-caller.

It's not a terrible plan? It's not super complicated at least, but then that's only the criminal side of the city; I'm not sure how he would expect to play all sides off each other with sufficient balance to keep all his pieces on the board (or keep the pieces in line if he decided to make a sacrifice play with one of them).

Anyway. Coil making his appeals to each individual member. Bitch gets more resources to care for her dogs, Regent... something with his old man. I don't know if Coil is reading his wants exactly right on this one.

Hmm. Guess that's the best reassurance that can be provided, not that it feels reassuring still.

Okay so Coil is offering to wave his magic wand and settle the matter of Aisha's custody for Grue, that much lines up. What's the benefit he's offering Tattletale? It can't just be money or power, that's too simple and I don't think any of the Undersiders are that simple in their wants. I don't even think it's true of Regent, much as he's trying to play the lazy hedonist role.

Little funny that Skitter being respected enough to afford silence while she thinks is the exact opposite of what she wants right now.

And it's interesting that she can't pull up a wish that Coil feels like confirming. "Bettering the city" is vague enough that there can be disagreements, and it's the kind of thing with no quick results which means a lot of patience. Obviously it's because Taylor only ever tried to become a hero and the villain thing was... I don't know if "accident" is the right word, but definitely unforeseen, but that sense of higher purpose is still firmly in place.

He's sounding entirely too cool about this, and I hate it. There's no way this man doesn't have a thousand hooks and caveats waiting out of sight, he literally described himself as being able to control destiny and wants to control all crime.

Yeah probably a huge pain in the ass to do finances as a supervillain, huh.

Also what the fuck kind of name is Number Man?

Yay, sloughing puppies

Not to steal a well-worn metaphor from another superhero story, but here and now Taylor is the dog that finally caught a car and is only now realizing "oh shit, I don't know what I'm supposed to do now"

This can only go well

Current Thoughts

Man I hate Coil's entire fucking vibe. He's scummy, entirely too sure of his abilities and resources, and I don't trust a man who acts this overdramatic and this reasonable at the same time. I also don't fully trust a guy who insists on having his meetings in a limousine, or who insists on using teenaged girls as his proxies, and I'm sure I'm going to get even more reasons to hate his rancid ass as time moves on.

Side note, Tattletale, I'm like pretty sure you could be doing better than working for this guy. Blink three times if you need help.

...Wait, shit, there's no way they can keep playing at the small fry game now, is there? They tweaked the nose of the entire Protectorate in front of a bunch of rich and important people. He made them prove their abilities in a way that involves dire repercussions in the event that they back down after the deed is done. Motherfucker.

And just to think that this isn't even going to be the worst conversation in this arc.

[review-anon]

I have created a hypothetical SDR2-rewrite that seeks to address your primary issue with the game (every murder being committing by bad people), with an extra treat for you, in the form of Survivor!Nikei.

I decided to keep Chapter 1 the same, as a sort of Series Establishing Moment for the Voids.

However, for Chapter 2, I was thinking of Kokoro killing Emma in self-defense, showing that the Voids are just as much victims as anybody else in the killing game.

For Chapter 3, it would definitely be a blow to Kanade's ego to have her murder plan fail by Hibiki stabbing Setsuka out of sync, henceforth allowing Kanade being the sole culprit.

(It was mainly self-indulgent on my behalf.)

Because the double murder failed in Chapter 3, I've decided to have a Chapter 4 double murder. Shinji's plan still remains the same, but equal emphasis was placed on Iroha's attempted murder of Sora, that ended in Yoruko shoving Iroha off the tower, in order to protect her "best friend". Because Iroha died before Shinji, Yoruko is the one to get executed, much to Sora's sorrow. (If you can't tell, I love doomed yuri.)

Chapter 5 remains the same, functioning well as a closing case for SDR2.

//Oh hey thank you for doing this for me! And yes Survivor Nikei is a nice treat, though contrary to what some think, I don't mind him dying, I just mind him dying in a pointless and last minute decision made due to a bastard cop from an another fangan doing a similar scheme to him. Narrative wise it makes more sense for Nikei to bite it but I sure don't mind him living as it would make more interesting material then LINUJ's waifu sticking around for bias reasons.

//Chapter 1 not changing makes sense as I think most people agree its one of the better chapters and sets up the themes very well, the issue was LINUJ didn't follow up on them well.

//That's such a nice twist that Emma gets killed by her own victim, maybe as a bonus twist, when Koroko is exposed as rhe culpirt she regains her memories of her adult self, who is a complete and utter monster? So my idea is that Emma attacks Koroko but the concussion she gets regains her memories similar to what happened with Hifumi in Trigger Happy Havoc, and so when Emma goes to kill her, Koroko manages to outsmart her and kill her, and when she's exposed, it even makes Mikado afraid since this IS his mother after all. And she could even cast doubt into Sora by saying she looks familar and wonders if she's a grandmother. Maybe too on the nose but just have it so there's some hints for future plot reveals.

//Hibiki living and Kanade getting fucked is always a common W. Especially as LINUJ confirms if Hibiki gets away from Kanade she would undergo amazing character development and become a better person. (On the other hand a dead Hibiki will lead to Kanade unaliving herself) Plus lets face it, we ALWAYS want to see Hibiki live and Kanade to get the commupperance she deserves, and maybe rather then make it a 6 hour pissing match between Kanade and Syobai which lasts as long as Danganronpa 3's entire runtime, we cut it down dramatically and other characters chime in. I know Poi had a idea of Kanade capturing Nikei and getting a Void confession out of him, and when Setsuka tried to save him, Kanade kills her, but seeing as Nikei lives here, that won't do. But I DO want Nikei having more of a role in the class trial, and have Kanade's plan have more holes in it. She could still keep the delusion she's perfect as I think that suits here, but now there's no wild leaps in logic to say she's perfect.

//Chapter 4 goes like my proposed draft but with the twist of Yoruko yeeting Iroha off the balcony due to seeing her trying to kill Sora. Lots of angst all around and while I imagine Nikei trying to shoot everyone and his hand goes boom still occurs, when Mikado tries to change the rules, Monocrow steps in and says he cannot do that and if he tries to add such a unfair rule, he would be immediately executed. (In this rewrite, Monocrow is not a subordinate to Mikado and makes it very clear that while he's the mastermind, if he starts abusing admin rights he will be executed) To demostrate this, I think Mikado's magic is just outright disabled by Monocrow and when he protests about this, the bird says he tried to overstep his authority and so he's taking his magic away.

//Chapter 5 won't go the same way, since there's the fallout of Nikei's actions and how the cast treat him, with the question being do they trust him or not. His fabled backstory is revealed here as a way to curry favour but I imagine Mikado frames him for Teruya's murder and since the cast don't trust him they vote wrong despite him saying they are making a mistake and then Syobai does his thing and Chapter 6 goes.

//With Yoruko dead and Sora gonna despairo I think she would latch onto Hibiki who starts reaching out to Yuki. When Mikado dies like a bitch, Hibiki exposes Kanade's crimes to the world and while her career as a idol is over as a result, she is free from the Puppet State and is able to forge her own path. Nikei like Iroha is arrested but he escapes. He doesn't aling with Syobai since he doesn't trust him and is now prepared to do his own thing and probably scheme something else.

//But that's my takes on your rewrites, thank you so much for doing this for me, and yes this feels a lot better as now I know a core message of Danganronpa hasn't been cucked due to LINUJ's nihilism.

[crowwyrmm]

I wrote an angsty blurb about Jean and Harry so I'm dumping it here. Might turn it into a full fic eventually.

enjoy ↓

"What is this? Some kind of fucking joke?" The man's eyes are dark and cold. He's leaning against the side of his door, arms crossed.

[Empathy] He seems startled to see you on his doorstep- and not overly pleased.

[Perception : Vision] He's wearing ill-fitting trousers and a dark blue shirt with long sleeves. There's something odd about seeing him without his uniform.

[Electrochemistry] It feels intimate.

"No. No jokes. I just... I was hoping we could talk? Over coffee, maybe?"

"Why do you have that?" He pointed to the small pot in your hands.

"Oh!! It's a gift- for you! It's a cute little cactus, with a flower blossom too, look-"

Jean opened his mouth to say something, but you were still going.

"You don't have to worry about watering it all the time, it's prickly-- but cool, and it's very resilient. It reminded me of you."

Jean raises his eyebrows, his lips pressing into a tight line. Silence falls between the two of you.

You feel a crushing weight in your chest. And your palms are sweating.

"Uh-huh.... thanks." There's an edge to his voice as he takes the potted plant and looks it over. His face is hard to read, but it looks like something in him caved. He sighs heavily. "Alright, fine. Come in.”

[Composure] This is going better than you thought it would. Just keep it cool, don't freak out.

[Reaction Speed] RUN before the scary man with the sad eyes makes you feel horrible about yourself again!

[Inland Empire] No. He needs this, just as much as you do.

You follow Jean inside, quietly observing the cosy wooden furniture. A painting of a horse hangs on the wall above a worn leather couch. You take a seat at the tiny dining table, nervously twiddling your thumbs.

Jean is in the kitchen. He sets the cactus on the windowsill in front of the sink and starts preparing a pot of coffee. You can hear the sizzle of the pot as the scent fills the air. He exits and takes a seat at the table across from you.

“What do you want?” His voice is as sharp as his gaze. Anger flares up behind his stoney eyes.

“I wanted to apologise to you, for all the bullshit I've put you through.” Your words are soft.

The man narrows his eyes. “Oh please!” He scoffs, “Do you seriously think I haven't heard this bullshit before?” His shoulders grow rigid.

“But–”

“Yes, I know! You're the sorriest goddamn cop who ever lived. This isn't the first time you've shown up grovelling on my doorstep.” A scowl is written across his face.

“Jean…” Your voice cracks, “I don't… I can't remember what I did to make you feel this way, just that it was horrible.”

“Oh yes. Let me help you, give you a little run-down- maybe?” Before you have a chance to object, Jean continues, “You permanently crippled a man in a fit of blind rage, a month ago. You went undercover to sleep with prostitutes and then arrested them. When a woman accused you of harassing her you tried to get her child taken away. You– you fucking leave a trail of destruction wherever you go, and it's always been my job to clean up after you.” His voice is shaking with rage, his fists clenched on the table in front of him. “I can keep going.”

God… did I really do all of that?

[Half Light] You did. You can still remember the sound of bones cracking.

“You don't need to.” There's a growing pit in your stomach. You start feeling a little ill. “I already know that I've done terrible things, I've spent weeks rediscovering every awful thing I've ever done for myself!” A heavy sigh escapes you. “Listen. I wish I could’ve been a better person, and a better partner to you– but I wasn't. All I can do now is try to move forward and… prove to you that I can be better.”

The words feel familiar and bitter in your mouth.

Jean crosses his arms tight to his body, still scowling. Silent rage radiates from him, but he says nothing.

“I have a fresh set of eyes, a new outlook on life. They say people have to hit rock bottom before they'll change. That was my rock bottom, Jean. I'm a changed man, ready to take accountability for my life.”

Jean shakes his head, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Do you think I’m a moron? That may have worked on me when we were young men, but not anymore. I've heard it all before. There is nothing left for you to say.” He pauses, briefly, clenching his jaw and closing his eyes. “Guys like you don't change, Harry. You might be able to bewitch this new little partner of yours, lure him in with your honeyed lies and empty promises. But not me. I'm not your emotional dumping ground, go see a fucking psychiatrist.”

[thirdrootwriting]

Brother of my Brother (Infinite Crisis - Bad End) pt1

I am sorry if the timeline events of Infinite Crisis here are a bit wonky. Also we are going with Nightwing run version of Jason and Dick's first meeting, bc that one's my favorite.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

The world nearly ended, it does that sometimes. A great, physics-defying colliding of universes and cosmic god-beings that required every sucker that's ever donned spandex -and occasionally some semi-willing, saner rouges- to put their noses to the grindstone , kick some ass, and maybe fart out a few inspirational speeches if you were the friendly paragon type like Superman, the Flashes, or darling Nightwing.

Jason's involvement in the whole thing had been minimal. He'd busted up some of the weird-ass robot things that preceded the main event, spared a whole goddamn sympathetic wince for the poor bastards that had to fight Superman's evil alt-universe son, and knocked around a couple of wannabe thugs that thought Bludhaven getting nuked was a chance to start getting cute with some profiteering or trafficking on his turf in nearby Gotham.

Not too helpful, cause Jason wasn't one of those fools wearing spandex anymore. (He had actual pants now, imagine that!). Not too unhelpful, cause he was a fool choosing to live in Gotham, and he'd prefer his city to not be a radioactive wasteland trashed by robots and mad Kryptonians and his universe not to be melted or unwritten or whatever cosmic bullshit the villain de jour had planned.

Eventually, the dust had settled. Heroes had run back to their claimed cities, the JLA fucked off back to space, and the various tech whizzes had actually started bothering to lock down or shut off the emergency channels they'd thrown together to call out the all hands on deck situation, making it a lot harder for those that weren't exactly invited to the party to listen in.

Leaning back onto his ratty but comfortable couch, in an apartment that edges closer to housing rather than a safehouse, Jason is now instead idly trawling through the official responses published by the JLA, the Titans, and a couple of the more put-together, public facing heroes.

He's not a bad hacker, far better than most, but Jason really only gives a fuck about information relating to Gotham and its vigilantes. (And well, formerly Bludhaven. Sucks to suck, circus boy, looks like even the great Nightwing fails sometimes). There's no way Oracle doesn't have anything Bat-related on lockdown already, and Jason's not fool enough to tangle with her in her home court like that.

He scratches his neck.

Nah, he'd rather not have cop-girl turned surveillance-woman rat out his location or get in his systems cause he'd gotten curious and poked his digital nose into whatever terse, control freak communications Batman was sending to the League and his little solider boys. Jason could just paint a general picture reading between the lines of official, publicly available reports, and then investigate through other, more in-person means after. Shake some people down, break into government offices that sort of thing.

Well, first off, it seemed his snobby little replacement was going to be in Gotham for a while. There's a short, despondent little announcement from knock-off Robin's knock-off Titans that due to the tragic loss of Superboy in the recent crisis, Young Justice would be suspending activity.

It's followed by a short but clumsily sincere little memorial piece about Kon-El, like that's supposed to make up for the fact he's dead, like just posting a couple of cheesy pictures of cook-outs and daylight missions and blubbering out a few sentimental sentences about how kind and heroic the deceased was enough to make up for his violent death.

Jason scratches his neck again. His nails are cut almost to the quick so they don’t catch his skin, don't draw blood, don’t really get rid of the itch.

Batman's more of a problem, as always. He'd never deign to give anything as mundane as a public statement, of course, but the JLA has an actual PR team and a constant need to maintain an image of transparency in front of the general public and its many trigger-happy governments. They've put out a handy list of various commendations being given, memorials being held, and ongoing efforts of various heroes to help with the after effects of the tragedy

Jason idly opens the memorials tab for some rubber-necking after he's finished investigating. He doesn't even bother glancing at the award ceremonies page (no Bat would fucking ever).

Little mention of Batman in any of the rebuilding projects or various JLA committees on preventing this horrible tragedy from ever occurring again . (Even though they all knew something similar would happen in another couple of years, cause the universe  tries to off itself on damn schedule these days).

Jason sighs. Nary a sign of the Bat on anything from the JLA, and the various social pages and gossip rags of Gotham were mostly empty of their favorite drunken fool, Bruce Wayne.

If Jason was lucky (and he never was), the Bat was on some short, international mission that would be finished up before the Red Hood's even had time to finish shaking down air traffic control for their records of Batplane sightings.  If he's unlucky, the old man's on one of his long-term out of the city projects or stupid self-discovery journeys that seemed to mostly involve screwing morally grey spies and assassins.

If he's supremely unlucky, though, Batman's fucked off to space or some alternate dimension to do this this, that, and the other cause he's similar to Jason in at least one regard. Occasionally they had to give a shit about the stability of the universe and the fate of the world, cause that's what Gotham is sitting on.

Uggh, it better not be that last one. Shaking down or threatening a Flash or Lantern would be a goddamn pain and require a fuck-ton of planning (steal some shit from Freeze? Lure the space cop into a sulphur mine? Might just be easier breaking into the Batcave.)

Jason rolls his shoulders face twitching into a grimace. He hasn't decided what he wants to do or say or whatever the next time he sees Batman, but he does know he wants it on his fucking terms. He's never gonna have a moment's peace if he doesn’t' figure out where Batman's lurking.

Shit, worst comes to worst he'll beat the Bat's location out of his shiny new Robin or prod it outta Nightwing who's almost certainly an emotional wreck now that Shithaven's radioactive rubble.

…. Maybe the Red Hood will even buy Nightwing a beer instead of greeting him with a gunshot outta consideration for his loss next they meet. Might be worth it so that Jason can see pretty, perfect Dick Grayson floundering in failure like the rest of the mortal world regularly had too, the prick.

Feeling a bit calmer, Jason settles back into a sprawl and starts casually perusing the JLA's page of memorial announcements for people he might've met with Batman or Dick. He idly scrolls down the page, stopping once in a while to search engine a name that rings absolutely no bells on the off chance it’s a rebranding instead of new-blood or a  total no-name. After all he very much doubts any mid-to-late twenties men are going around calling themselves Aqualad, or fucking Speedy.

Near the bottom of the alphabetically organized page is a blue hyperlink that reads 'Nightwing'.

Jason blinks. Clenches and unclenches his left hand. That's … a weird fucking way to list a memorial for the city of Bludhaven.

He knows a lot of the old core Leaguers like to fawn over Robin Number 1, Superman especially, and that Nightwing's probably the only non-exploded, halfway decent person left willing to admit association  with Shithaven, Gotham's poorer, dirtier little sister-city, but still. Not super tactful.

Jason stares at electric blue of the hyperlink for another couple of seconds, then clicks on it.

'The public memorial for the hero known as Nightwing will be held at 5pm on October 24th on the public access field in front of Titian's Tower. A beloved figure of the hero community, founding member of the Titians, and known associate of Batman, Superman, and many other long time Justice League members …'

The word 'Robin' does not appear once on the entire page, Jason notes hysterically. Like every two-bit thug with half a brain cell left after Batman's regular beatings and Gothamite still sane enough to parse a newspaper don't know that the little, grinning dare-devil child mad enough to take on the night in Gotham armed with nothing but pixie boots and a smile, good enough to not just fucking survive that but stay laughing and kind, like they don't all know he grew up into their migratory bluebird who would swoop between the brighter, outside world and their resident shithole city, returning to the nest to help beat down their rouges, remind Batman to act like a freaking human being, and teasingly rescue little Robins that got in over their heads. Perfect, lucky, Dick Grayson, Gotham's little songbird that got to grow up and stretch his wings.

Jason numbly realizes he's started to chuckle, an ugly smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

A hideous cackling monologue that never really shuts up in the back of his memories laughs and laughs about dead birds, about Batman's failures. The sentences are impossible to fully parse, every other word punctuated by a crack of pain or an ugly giggle.

A soft, sharp, croon in his recently resurrected ears, as Talia-of-his-memory whispers, "Family and love are just pretty, useless words until they've been proven in blood and sacrifice."

Jason hurls the laptop across the room, shattering the bright screen displaying its memorial message against the wall then stalks off to grab his helmet. He needs to see for himself if this is, if Nightwing is . . .

. . . If it is true, he needs to know who. Needs to know badly, insistently, itchingly cause Jason really fucking doubts whatever JLA fuck that wrote the page, or Titan hanger-on that organized that memorial actually loved Richard Grayson that way his brother deserved.

He sure as hell knows their father won't.

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

Six years ago

The first time Jason met his predecessor? (maybe his brother?) went  . . . . alright.

Sure Jason's flubbed the gauntlet test thing that Bruce'd set up, Nightwing dancing circles about him with his fancy flips. Then that had been followed by the older teen basically dragging him about the whole city like a scruffed kitten as they'd raced through the streets to save Alfred dressed as Two-Face.

 On the other hand, they'd basically raced the length of the whole city, bus-surfing and peeping into warehouses, and ended up fighting with some sewer-croc monster to save Alfred dressed as Two-Face cause Batman had flubbed his whole secret test thing worse. Jason had come out of that whole mess not looking too bad in comparison and gotten the official go-ahead to be Robin from both Batman and the original.

He'd parted ways with Dick kinda amicably. Dick had given him his original Robin suit (which was actually pretty cool) and his phone number to call in case Batman was being a 'stoic, immovable, grump' (actually a bit tempting to use cause  Bruce had been snit over his car crash injuries). Jason in turn had passed over the new Nightwing suit Alfred had sewn up and repeated his challenge that he was gonna be even better as Robin so Dick'd better watch out (he'd gotten a raised eyebrow  and a sigh again).

Not bad or anything. No hitting, no screaming (at him anyway, he's fairly certain Nightwing and Batman had it out behind his back at some point). No angry demands about who let a grubby, homeless kid have Robin's costume.

Still, Jason felt like Nightwing was just humoring him, and it rankled. Worse, was he knew why. In contrast to Jason's rather lackluster first night as Robin, Batman had shown him clips of Nightwing's Gotham debut right before he sent him out to catch him, and really those said it all.

A smiling young man in midnight blue and bright gold on a playful rampage through Gotham's darkness, a grinning Batgirl in tow. He knocks out street thugs with a showy, graceful kick on one screen, raids the Iceburg Lounge and talks down to Pengiun with an grinning, effusive, confidence on another, and on the final screen on the bottom right breaks into Arkham to play a prank on the fucking Joker, the clown's angry threats near drowned out by his fearless, undaunted laughter as he slips away.

"This is Nightwing" says Batman. "He'll be your test."

"That's Robin." Realizes Jason. "He's what I've got to live up to."