#one kid actually fainted during the run

[ravio-the-cabinet-man]

friends talking about heat and dehydration made me think of the time that me, a chronically dehydrated kid, asked my gym teacher if i could bring my water bottle for the mile run (which every kid was required to do for gym)

i was told no. you cant bring your water bottle. we'll have water when we come back inside.

jokes on her i had heat exhaustion so so bad for the next week, i couldnt even make it to school. and then my mom also got Pissed at her for it too. fuckin L

[who-is-there]

I just started watching Dimension 20’s Fantasy high, halfway through sophomore year, and I do want a fic where people realise just how used to being part of a group the bad kids are. For example-

-I fully believe every single one of them is used to Riz climbing them so he can see better. It’s usually Gorgug, but it’s happened to all of them at some point. They might hold out their arm for him to jump onto a counter, or so he can pin a clue to his board. Before they all sit at a table, at least one of them makes sure their 4’4 friend can jump onto the table.

-Every single one of them has also caught Adaine after she had a vision. Sometimes she can just shake them off, but the big ones make her falter in what she’s doing, which can be dangerous. It happened once in a fight, and now the people standing closest to her are always ready.

-Fabian doesn’t really recognise he has a blind spot with his eye injury, because the others immediately clocked it. But this also means they walk in between him and the road, in case some idiot mounts the curb. They keep an eye on anything to his right, shifting drinks and pushing chairs if they can tell his depth perception is a little off.

-Fig usually stands in the middle of the group to intimidate people into not messing with them, so it’s sort of become habit to just crowd around her. After the battle, if no one’s seriously hurt or anything, everyone just wanders over to Fig. At this point, Fig is always the first one to yell out after a fight, just so they can regroup.

-Gorgug is the go-to for lap-sits, leaning, anything to do with being physically supported by another persons body. His hoodie is soft, and his headphones are loud enough that you can kind of hear it if you’re leaning on him. His parents weren’t great with nonchalant physical contact, in case he was already upset, so he takes great joy in his friends not being scared to hug him for fun.

-Kristin has left her staff at every single house she could with the bad kids. She leaves her bag in classrooms, the library, the cafeteria. Whenever the group leave somewhere, they do a full scan, because Kristin has probably left something and they grab it for her. No one has any clue who her bag actually belongs to, because all of the bad kids have been seen carrying it around school several times.

The school at large know who the bad kids are, and the town recognise them, but they still don’t know why all of them double check a room before leaving, or collectively carry a small stool around with them. One student with a fantasy iron deficiency faints in class and Kristin catches her before she hits the ground. Once, Fig isn’t in school for a day and all the bad kids have this restless energy about them. It is not uncommon to see them on the field during lunch, curled up in a pile on Gorgug. One guy tries to surprise Fabian from the right and gets body checked by Adaine before it even registers.

It’s sort of uncomfortable for everyone to see any of them without the others, because it means a) the rest of them committed a crime, b) the rest of them are committing a crime, or c) the rest of them are about to run in and start planning to commit a crime. And no one wants to lose their plausible deniability here.

[love-anddeepression]

I have like 2 ideas for Miguel O’Hara x platonic teen reader

1. Reader tries to impress Miguel with their parkour skills on missions

2. All the other spider people call reader “baby o hara” or like “mini Miguel”

OOHOHOOOO NICE, I wrote a Drabble hehee

Baby Spider- Miguel O’Hara x teen!reader

“What the actual frick Frack is that?” You say as the anomaly holds out a light that emits a low frequency sound.

“Did you actually just say frick frack? And that’s to attract her moth droids.”

“Well, when I actually swear, you give me this look!”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s bullshit.”

His head whips to you with an eyebrow raised.

“You just proved my point!” Your hand swings out to point at him.

“Can—can the both of you focus on the villain here?” The evil anomaly deadpans at the both of you.

“Shut up!” The both of you shout at her, Miguel’s claws extend.

“You know what I’ve had enough, she’s annoying me.” You groan, “let’s just get her back into her universe.”

“Be careful.” He warns.

“I’ll be fine.” Internally you’re grinning because you’re excited. Pavitr had taught you a few parkour tricks to try during missions and you wanted to show them to Miguel. You walk to the edge of the roof and look at the layout of the windows. All in jumping distance, some perfect for flipping, and it was honestly too good to be true.

“Hey!” You wave your arms to distract the anomaly. And to Miguel’s horror, you take a running start towards the edge of the roof and flip her the bird while jumping off.

“AY BE CAREFUL!” He covers his mouth in shock as you reappear, quite literally swinging upwards, as if you launched yourself like a rocket. Flying towards the heavens.

He watches as you flip mid air and use a roof ledge to bounce from one building to another. Your hands and legs constantly moving in some way. He can also see the way you turn to look at him every two minutes. Like you want him to see your skills. He smiles a faint smile under the mask.

“Hey, boss, I’d hate to break up your little moment, but the anomaly has a substantial amount of droids that are mostly being captured as we speak.” lyla informs him.

Miguel runs towards where you’re teetering off the edge of a tall building and watches as you use your webs to blind the anomaly. He takes the opportunity to launch himself from the building and swings to the anomaly, destroying her droids in the process and coming to towering over her menacingly

His clawed fingers wrap around her neck, baring it to him as his mask fades and his fangs sink into the flesh, paralysing her.

He wipes his mouth and looks at you. You’re standing sideways on a window.

“Impressive parkour, kid.”

You nod, “thanks.”

When he turns you fist bump the air and jump, forgetting that you were sideways and you fall with a shriek.

Red webbing wraps around waist, you’re pulled towards Miguel. He just looks at you for a few moments. You groan.

“I know you’re trying not to laugh.”

“What do you mean, I’m *snort* not laughing.”

After a few seconds of silence, he doubles over and takes a deep breath, and as you huff out a laugh, Miguel O’Hara, known for being a mean old grump, sputters out nonsensical words while laughing his ass off.

“Yeah, yeah you’re hilarious.” You try to calm him down, but you’re having trouble stopping yourself from laughing as well.

Suddenly a portal opens and Jessica drives onto the roof. The both of you notice her as Miguel wheezes and coughs.

“You good?” She asks after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

The man clears his throat, “Yeah, let’s take this lady back.” He throws the anomaly into the portal and walks in, “come on, kid.”

“What about you, Mini Miguel?” She raises her eyebrow.

“Perfectly fine, Jess” you grin at her underneath your mask.

[lordprettyflackotara]

hitchhiker || chapter one || the proxies

tw: mentions of murder

<— prologue

Brian frowned as he picked up a can of soup, examining the label.

Grocery shopping is pointless.

He sighed as he put the can in his shopping cart. His gaze didn’t stray from the shelves, searching for his favorite. Tomato soup.

Not like we stay in one place long enough to really eat all of this shit.

Brian pushed his shopping cart forward, grumbling to himself. Since your meeting the proxies, they had done everything to avoid you. He cringed at the thought of Tim’s weakness. For the first time in years the roles were reversed, Brian the harsh one and Tim the blind softie. He reached forward to grab a can of chicken soup, his cart ramming into something.

His eyes flickered over to the hard stop, shock washing over him like a brutal wave. There you stood, a tiny red shopping basket accompanying your arm. In your hand sat a can of his beloved tomato soup. “Holy shit, Brian?” You asked. No no no no. What the actual fuck were you doing here? Brian awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. They had driven outside of the city to avoid you and here you stood.

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else-” Brian began. An overly optimistic Toby popped over his shoulder, dropping a container of oreos into the chart. His face lit up at the sight of you.

“Hi Y/n!”

Goddammit.

This reminded Brian why he thought Toby was a liability a smooth eighty percent of the time. The other twenty was Hoodie being impressed someone as slender as Toby could chop up a body so fast. You grinned as you walked around the shopping cart. “I didn’t realize you guys lived so far away from the city, I would’ve driven you closer,” You say. Brian admired your sober look, your face flushed with more color and your words no longer slurred.

“We work out here. Just grabbing some groceries on the way home,” Brian answered. Toby pranced around behind you, peaking over your shoulder. “T-t-tomato soup is H-, Brian’s favorit-te,” Toby said. Brian sighed, silently wishing Hoodie was fronting so you couldn’t see his face. You held out the can to him. “You can take it, it’s the last one,” You say, offering him a small smile. Brian hesitated, before remembering how much he enjoyed tomato soup. He reached his hand out, grabbing the can. His fingers brushed against your soft skin, which was radiating a comforting warmth.

You were like a bundle of touchable joy.

Oh fuck he was becoming soft.

“Thank you,” Brian mumbled, placing it in the cart. You eyed the cart suspiciously, noting the lack of substantial food. “I know you guys are middle aged men, but shouldn’t you have some real food in there?” You asked curiously. Not exactly like we have a lot of time for cooking. “We burn a lot of calories when we-” Toby started. Brian sent him a look so viscous he was surprised the kids head didn’t explode. “When we’re a-at work,” He finished. You raised an eyebrow, exchanging glances between the two. You were about to question the men’s relationship, the faint sound of static causing you to close your mouth.

It was overwhelming, the sensation making the left side of your temple throb. Brian was about to excuse them from the situation, a familiar voice interrupting his saving face. “Hey what’s taking so long?” Tim asked. His eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight of you. “Hi Tim,” You greeted. It was interesting to you that not only had you ran into them again, you had managed to run into all three of them. Your drunken night had wiped away the awkward moments during your interaction.

Tim had thought you would’ve forgotten them entirely, but it was the rather opposite effect than he wanted. Instead of forgetting them, you only forgot the awkwardness and tenseness of the car ride. “Hi there,” Tim greeted. Brian could practically feel Tim’s flusteredness. Over the years they had slaughtered many women without a second thought, including attractive ones. And sure, the three of them hadn’t had intimacy in God knows how long. But Brian just couldn’t understand Tim’s infatuation with you. You were just a girl.

“So um, about dinner,” Tim continued. Brian refrained from visibly showing his distain. There was always the possibility you would’ve forgotten about the dinner proposal. What the fuck was Tim’s problem? It wasn’t as if Brian wanted them to all die practical virgins, it just wasn’t logical. Having any form of relationship would only result in a tragedy. Brian had racked his brain about it long ago, back when his freedom was first stripped away from him. What could he say? He was a horny motherfucker whose potential lovers would be slaughtered or tortured.

“Yeah?” You say. Brian could tell you were getting excited. You were practically bouncing on your heels. Man, maybe you’d make a good match for Toby. Brian shoved the the thought out of his head, looking away. “Why don’t we go grab some burgers or something tonight?” Tim suggested. Brian noticed the slight raise of your left eyebrow. Tim must’ve too, clearing this throat before following up with, “All of us. Our treat.”

You couldn’t have put on a bigger smile even if you had wanted to. “That sounds great. How about the corner burger joint on twenty eighth avenue? It’s near my apartment,” You suggested. Brian watched in horror as Tim grinned, giving you a confirmative nod.

“It’s a date.”

Brian couldn’t usher the three of them out of the store fast enough. Once comfortable in the car, Brian turned towards Tim. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? You practically gave her a headstone with her name on it,” He spat. Tim rolled his eyes, digging in his pocket for his faithful box of cigarettes. “One dinner is harmless, isn’t it kid?” He asked, glancing at Toby in the rearview mirror. Brian sighed as the younger man nodded excitedly. “M-most interaction we-ev’e had with another human in a longgg time,” He agreed, his neck twitching to the side again. Brian pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Don’t weaponize Toby against my argument. We both know this is a terrible idea,” He said flatly. Tim started the car, driving past a fallen over shopping cart on the overgrown field. “If the Operator gets interested in her for even a split second-” Brian continued. Tim rolled his eyes, a cigarette dangling from his lips. “Thats not going to happen, we’d never bring her to him. Besides, she’s just a girl. What’s the worst that could happen?” Tim answered. Out of the seven years they had been partners, Brian had never heard Tim be more nonchalant.

“O-one of us could g-get laid for once,” Toby added. Brian frowned as he reached into one of the grocery bags, pawing away to find the oreos. “Yeah we won’t bring her. But you know they will,” Brian pointed out. The sound of Toby crunching on oreos and the smell of Tim’s cigarette smell overwhelmed Brian’s senses. “They have no reason to be interested in her, nor do they have any reason to front tonight. We already took care of our mission for today. Boss gave us an easy target,” Tim reminded him. It was true, the latest assignment one that would begin easy.

In the trunk of their car sat a corpse of a middle aged man, one who was a detective. He had been investigating the proxies symbol and the various murders they had committed. He was putting all the pieces together, something that led him to a dangerous fate. It was the proxies responsibility to conceal the identities of all creeps. It was their literal job to clean up the messes the Operators mansion residents had made. It became more than personal though once someone began looking into their lives more than they should.

After all, Toby was still considered wanted. Tim and Brian were considered missing. Brian folded his arms, frowning as he looked out of the window.

“Oh yeah that reminds me, how the fuck are we going to discard of the body before dinner?”

\/

You held your phone to your ear, navigating through the whimsical rack of your closet. Your closest friend Nova was on the other end, helping you choose an ensemble for your dinner with the boys.

“Who are these guys again?”

Her voice was laced with concern. You held up a black dress to your figure, analyzing every last detail. “I met them on Halloween. Just a couple of hitchhikers,” You replied. You tossed the black dress aside, grabbing a white one instead. “I read cases of hitchhikers being cannibalistic murderers almost daily you know,” Nova replied. You had grown up with Nova, the two of you remaining close friends into adulthood. Despite the two of you having gone two separate waves career wise, you always made time for each other. She had chosen to be a detective. Despite her constant complaining, her passion was truly driven to seek justice for the victims of psychopaths.

You on the other hand, had made a more reckless choice. Your childhood dreams of being an actress had traveled over into adulthood. Leading in your long term employment at the Steak and Shake as a waitress. “Not all hitchhikers are crazy Nova. Besides, these guys seem nice. You’re the one who’s been telling me to get out there again,” You reminded her. After your nasty breakup with your ex boyfriend, you had become a bit of a reclusive. Halloween was the first time you had been out in months, Nova leaving early with her hookup of the night.

“Yeah but there’s three of them. They’re going to make you pick one,” She informed you. You rolled your eyes. You set your phone down on your dresser, putting it on speaker. “You know with how woke you are i’m surprised you don’t believe in being polygamy,” You said. You shoved your jeans down to your ankles, stepping out of them. You glanced up at a photo of you at graduation, Nova occupying your side. Her caramel skin was always polished and soft, her soft brown eyes always lit up in a smile during photographs. Her hair framed her face just right, giant curls practically bouncing in the picture.

“It’s not that I don’t, I just don’t see you being the polyamorous type,” Nova told you. You shoved off your shirt, tossing it aside carelessly. “If you’re so worried why don’t you go with me?” You suggested. You knew Nova would immediately decline, you just wondered what excuse she would come up with this time. The two of you ran with two very different crowds. Hers more professional, yours more wild. “You know I don’t have time for that right now. Winston just disappeared. Godwin couldn’t wait to throw this case in my lap,” She sighed. You began putting on the dress, struggling to put your arms through the complicated arm holes.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” You asked, trying to sound out together as you put your neck through the wrong hole. You awkwardly shifted on your feet, questioning why you bought this dreaded thing in the first place. “There’s a bunch of murders he thought were connected by some weird symbol. All of them have been gruesome. The chopped up bodies have all been dismembered the same way,” Nova informed you. You grinned as you finally managed to maneuver the dress, admiring yourself in the mirror. “Dude i’m going out to eat in like fifteen,” You reminded her.

“Yeah yeah my bad. I forget regular citizens don’t interact with this kind of stuff,” She said. You refrained from rolling your eyes, reminding yourself she wasn’t being egotistical. She just lived in her own world a majority of the time. You picked your phone up off of the dresser, taking her off of speaker before putting the phone up to your ear. “Well do you think Winston was onto something?” You suggested. Nova seemed to ponder it for a moment before responding. “You know I thought he ran away with his mistress but you’re onto something. He must’ve been on the right track,” She said.

“Most detectives don’t disappear overnight with their wallet still at home,” You reminded her. News headlines had been broadcasting Lewis Winston’s disappearance all morning. “Look at you becoming a little detective. You gotta get your degree so we can become partners,” Nova chuckled. You smiled, pulling on a pair of shoes. “Let me star in at least one blockbuster hit before you force me to change career paths,” You replied. You admired yourself in the mirror, ignoring your antsy nerves. How long had it truly been since you had been out on your own?

“You know i’ll be in the front row of the premiere. Maybe your hitchhiker boyfriends will be there too,” She laughed. Nova meant it as a harmless joke, but the idea alone made you incredibly flustered. “Yeah yeah very funny, i’m going to go have dinner with my hitchhiker boyfriends now,” You told her, guiding the conversation to end.

“Uh huh. Call me if your hitchhiker boyfriends are killers!”

You took your friend’s warning as a joke, but looking back, you should’ve taken her advice.

—> chapter two

[slorgfest]

list of things ive observed after watching tfone 2.5 times (the 0.5 was because i was speeding through looking for image proofs etc)

starting with something funny: B's cogless form has an energon compartment.

assuming that this is standard for all cogless models, it makes it especially hilarious to think that OP during the intro chase sequence either didn't think of storing his energon, or that he's just hungy enough and he's snacking as he runs

2. cameo guesswork (excluding jazz, since he was the only one that got formally mentioned and any screentime outside of main cast). has varying confidence/accuracy levels. here we go.

moonracer, prowl, perceptor (or sideswipe), ironhide, wheeljack, hound (if it is hound, at a later scene a mech of a similar frametype had a line in a fem-sounding voice), sunstreaker, arcee, red alert, and chromia (caught only because the announcer said so lmao. im more used to her darker blue paintjob like in idw and cyberverse). i think i also saw a helm that looked like drift (not deadlock, drift) but i can't really confirm.

3. bots that appeared on the iacon 5000 leaderboards but to my knowledge no screentime otherwise (can also be seen as a list of bots that are cogged and will later join the autobots, assuming the timeline will follow traditional bot/con division):

silverbolt, deadend, slingshot, cliffjumper, motormouth; powerglide, jetstorm, blurr (of course. this is his natural habitat after all); swindle and tailgate.

admittedly i found the inclusion of swindle so so funny because like?? dude i thought you'd be running the betting rings rn lol.

4. sentinel's characterization (outside of g1, i watched reruns as a kid but i don't remember them anymore) has always been either someone grossly incompetent or a menacing/suppressive force on cybertron. i thought it was interesting that they made him devious and actually kind of cunning this time around.

anyway. i also thought his paintjob was based off of tfa, but no his g1 counterpart laid the groundwork there.

they did away with the cheeto orange (goodbye cheeto orange) but the gold is striking. really gives him that image of glamor and opulence.

telesync kinda fucked up the colors but: elita's optics have a greenish hue to them, more aquamarine/cyan than the regular autobot blues that B and OP have. D's is, of course, yellow.

verging into speculation territory, i wonder if there's a reason why they gave D distinctly hexagonal optics? the yellow is pretty obvious, its easier to transition from yellow to red than blue to red. but the hexagons are very eye catching (pun intended), given how they spin around. it's not exactly something people would miss. tune in later for my Outlier/Point-One Percenter D theory

6. sentinel's guards (excluding airachnid) are kinda weird.

theyre very homogenous in shape, no individual characteristics, not even a little kibble to separate them from one another. and when they speak its very stiff, almost droning. its most certainly not an animating/funding/studio issue, given that almost all other cybertronians (even in the background) have been personalized one way or another.

so: possibly cold-constructed mechs, mass produced and onlined for the singular task of serving sentinel. think of the eradicons/vehicons from tfp, the shapes are certainly similar enough.

7. in the cave scene after the sentinel/quintesson reveal, D stomps on something, breaking it.

that's his worker's tag. all the miners have them. pictured: D's, OP's, and jazz's. elita and B all have their own tags too.

what i found most interesting though, that directly after the sentinel surface encounter, D crushes his (as said before), B and elita remove theirs (it left a faint indent on B, which begs the question how old he actually is and how long has he been working, exactly?), but OP keeps his tag on.

(continuing in a rb, ive hit image limit lmao)

[igotanidea]

Hero: Damian Wayne x reader

(family rules finale)

A/N: Family rules finale, ladies and gentleman! Forgive me, if I got a litlte rusty during hiatus, hope you'll still enjoy <3

Family rules masterlist

***

„Let go of me, Nightwing! She needs my help, can’t you see that-“

“Hush.”

“She is being-“

“Shut up Damian!”

Now, this, this was surprising.

Dick Grayson, the forever cool, positive and optimistic seemed to be losing his cool, clenching fists and jaw. He was not blind, duh! He saw what this asshole was doing to his daughter.

Dick was always very sensitive when it came to any type of violence and the fact that Y/N was the girl of whom Damian took a liking to was intensifying his fury tenfold.

Damn, he himself was hanging by a thread, forcing himself to not barge inside and take matters in his own, gloved hands.

But there were so many things and variables to consider. From what Dick knew about Y/N (cause Damian was not talking about her at all) she was rather withdrawn (reasons in the form of the scene unfolding in their eyes), with no friends, who would care for her. The only person who stalked her in wanting to talk was – Damian. Therefore technically, if anyone were to wander by her house at his hour would be him. And at the moment he was about to barge inside in his Robin suit.

And since Dick also knew Y/N was smart and good at connecting the dots there was a heavy risk of her figuring out that Damian=Robin. And then all the rest, getting up the hill to the identity of Batman himself.

And despite the attitude Dick had to many of Bruce’s rules, the secret identity one was a priority and the one he was not going to break.

Yet.

Lost in thoughts, he didn’t even notice Damian taking off and rushing over the lawn to her window.

“Damn! Robin, come back here!”

As if that could stop him.

If the situation wasn’t so dramatic, it would be truly hilarious.

If Y/N and/or her father were to look outside the window they would notice Nightwing and Robin struggling against one another on their estate, pulling at the cape, standing on feet, throwing batons and waving katana around.

 Like freaking comic characters in a kids’ show that intends to be funny but gives the adult a heavy cringe from embarrassment.

“I’m going in!” Damian yelled.

“You are not-“

“AGGHG!”

“Stop it!” Dick did a few backflips, miraculously escaping the blade. Damn, this was so much easier a few years ago, but now his older body was a little less agile even if Grayson refused to admit it. Meanwhile, 17 year old Damian seemed to be at the peak of his abilities. Cutting Dick’s opportunity to grab Robin’s cape and hold him midair with his feet dangling furiously.

“She needs my help!”

“Actually the help would be really helpful here. “ third voice, mocking, cut into the discussion, making both Dick and Damian stop.

Y/N was leaning on the doorframe, arms folded on her chest, look of pure contempt in her eyes as he observed the two vigilantes doing only what could be described as fooling around with each other. Her cheek was reddened and there was a faint stream of blood running down her arms.

So much for Dick’s masterplan.

“Thanks for nothing, you two.” She mocked, raising an eyebrow.

“Um…” Damian stuttered, suddenly feeling awfully called out on his behavior.

“Hm? You were saying?”

“Nothing…” he looked down like a schoolboy, while Dick was standing a little behind, biting the inside of his cheek to not burst out laughing at him.

“I’m sorry, Nightwing, is this funny to you?” Y/N was too perceptive for their own good. “Please, so share the positives you see in the situation.”

“Um…” this time Dick was the one blushing like a kindergartener, caught stealing sweets from the top shelf.

“I actually thought you were supposed to help people?”

“Um…”

“Wow, how do you help anyone if you can’t even make one sentence?”

“Ok, enough.” Finally Damian managed to get his tongue back “this is enough.”

“Is it?”

God, she was infuriating even now. He was trying to help her (again) and she was pushing him away (again).

“Stop it.”

“Or what?”

“Or- or-“

“Or what?” she repeated, her eyes fixed on him, almost drilling a hole into his masked face.

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“You’re the one playing catch on my lawn!”

“I’m trying to free you from the abuser your father is!”

“Well look how it worked!”

“It would be much better if you try to be a little more appreciative!”

“Screw you!”

“What?!”

This girl never made any sense. How was it possible that he fell for this chaotic mess of a human being. She was making him crazy. Crazy! And not in a good sense.

“How long have you been sitting on that tree?”

“Well, um-“

“This is my fault-“ Dick tried to interject but she sent him a look so full of fury he had to take a step back with hands raised in surrender.

“I’m not talking to you.” She growled to Dick, turning back to Damian.  “I am so done! I’m done! Men are just completely useless!”

“But-“

“You know what, heroes are useless!”

Now this hurt.

“This is not fair-“ Damian started, but it was too late. Months of abuse, fear and holding her emotions back for the sake of everyone else found a way out in the wave of white fury, blinding her rational thinking. She was so tired of waiting for someone to help her. Exhausted from hoping for a prince on a white horse to come and take her away from this place.

She was not helpless.

And this line of thinking got her into the crazy decision of taking matters in her own hands.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you going!? Wait! Wait, what are you going to do?! Stop!”

As she turned on her heel, blind and deaf to any external stimuli, walking back towards the house like  a mad woman Damian immediately took after her. And Dick did too.

If Y/N was a supernatural being this would be the moment for her to go into a magical change in the cloud of white light.

This would be the moment for her to get a silly, fairy-like outfit, a cape and/or ability to fly and beam lasers from her eyes.  

But this was reality and not a manga show.

And she was a hero even without a latex costume.

Or maybe – that was what made her more of a hero.

***

“Please remind me to never make that girl angry.”

Damian scoffed, but there was a hint of smugness in his voice as he responded.

“That was something, wasn’t it?”

Half an hour later, Dick and Damian were leaning over the same tree by her house, watching her father being taken by the police.

Shockingly (or maybe not so much), pushed to the very edge of her endurance, Y/N had walked inside the house, and with zero second guessing or doubts, had called the police, reporting the abuse she had been experiencing from her parent.

Damian had never been more proud of anyone in his entire life.

And she did it without his help.

Which under any other circumstances would probably make him mad, cause he was supposed to be the savior, but hey – having a girl who could hold her own was even better.

“You know anyone else would probably call her mental—”

“Hey! Hold your tongue Grayson!”

“Hm? Why?” Dick smirked “getting territorial?”

“Shut up!”

“She’s not even your girl, you know.”

“I said shut up!”

“Please don’t start again-“

***

“Hey Y/N, can we talk?”

She was talking to the policeman, giving her explanations on the situation, looking a little fatigued from everything that happened, but upon hearing his voice turned around.

“I don’t know, I am a little busy here-”

“I’ll take it from here, officer.” Damian cut off not only her words but any possible objection from the policeman, gently grabbing her forearm and leading her away from the crime scene.

“Where’s your babysitter?” she teased, seeing as Nightwing was nowhere to be found.

“He was getting a little too fearless for his own good so I bound him to the tree.”

“You’re joking.” She chuckled, “wait. You are joking right? Please tell me, you didn’t actually trap Nightwing on my tree.”

“Relax. He’s not in immediate danger. At least not at the moment.”

“The hell does that-?”

“How are you feeling?” he interrupted her again, studying her face from behind the mask, taking in the pale face, tired eyes and relief mixed with worry, etched on her face. “And do not try to put on a brave face.”

“How do you think I feel?”

“I’m not a mind reader.”

“Too bad. Cause that’s not something I could explain in a few words. At the moment I am mostly exhausted. But also a bit of fear.”

“Of what?”

“Future. Now that my dad would probably end up locked up… what will happen to me?”

“Y/N…”

“You know I never asked you how you know my name.”

“Y/N…”

“Do you learn the names of everyone in Gotham? Didn’t take you for the considerate type.”

“How is it possible that you switch between acting vulnerable and mean so swiftly?” he mocked, hiding the fact that her words actually did hit a nerve.

“Maybe it’s my superpower.” She sighed.

“Y/N…”

“Hm?” she kept her eyes on the ground, her mind suddenly starting to spin as she only now started considering the consequences of her actions.

Damian cupped her cheek, softly, unable to stop himself from the gesture of affection, guiding her eyes on him.

“You did the right thing.” He whispered

“Did I?” her voice shook a little “then why does it feel like I’m –”

“No. No, don’t even finish that sentence.” He rubbed her skin, shocking not only her but also himself. “You were the victim here and he deserves everything that is going to happen to him now. He had it coming. Forcing you to get information on Waynes? Using you to get to me and –“

They both froze.

Shit.

Shit, he said “to me”. And there was no way she wouldn’t catch up on that, even with her tiredness and distraction.

“Are you—”

“Y/N.”

“Damian?”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I know, but- but why-? How-? When-?”

“Not now.”

“But-“

“Not now, Y/N.” he cupped both her cheeks, keeping eyes on her “Not with so many people around. Later, I promise.”

“You promise, huh? And I’m just supposed to trust you? How long have you known about-“

“A few days, I swear. If I knew earlier than-“ he clenched his jaw, his hold on her becoming a little tighter. “then I wouldn’t hold myself responsible for my own actions towards your father. Bastard.”

“Well it’s done now…”

“I’m not leaving you alone, you know that?”

“I didn’t.”

“Ouch.”

“Oh, don’t act like that actually did hurt you.”

“And if I told you it did, would you kiss it better?”

“Robin!” she teased “are you flirting?”

Damian blushed in response, feeling like a total idiot and completely out-of-character.  Damn Grayson and damn trying to copy his stupid smug way of talking to girls. Clearly it wasn’t working for him.

“I- I mean, I-“

She only smiled softly, standing on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek, letting her lips linger on the skin a little longer than necessary.

“That’s all you get for now.”

“But-“

“You got some heavy explaining to do. But on the good side? I won’t be used a snitch since now, so who knows where this goes…” she turned to walk away but he grabbed her hand and spun her around to him

“Y/N…”

“Hm?”

Screw his attitude. Screw copying Grayson and keeping his distance. Screw the pretenses. Screw everything.

He pulled her into his chest, softly, almost shyly pressing her lips to his, feeling the tips of his ears burning. He was kissing her. She was kissing him. And it felt…

Good.

So good.

Not like that first kiss at the Wayne’s gala when they simply got lost in the moment.

No.

This one was more deliberate, more mature and definitely wanted by both of them. As if everything that happened in the short span of a few months made them more aware of their own emotions and needs. 

And even though it did not clear all the misunderstandings and understatements, it was a good way forward, with his lips moving against hers, and her nose brushing affectionately over his.

Soft, sweet and seemingly innocent, but filled with so many feelings simmering under the surface. 

“I’ll take care of you…” he whispered, pulling back after a moment, connecting their foreheads.

“I don’t need you to take care of me…”

“I hate you. You’re ruining the moment, Y/L/N. I am going to take care of you, whether you like it or not.”

She chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“If this thing between us is going to work, I seriously hope you are never going to change.”

Damian groaned internally.

She was going to make him go crazy in the foreseeable future.

But he was not going to let go.

Not all heroes wear capes...

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[oofthwoods]

VICIOUS! ── ˙ ̟ the echo !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: arthur leclerc likes a certain type of woman: smart, neglects intuition, and not as good as him.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: set in 2021, during echo's formula 3 season. they're both jerks to each other here :/ based on vicious by sabrina carpenter (emails i cant send pretty much defines their relationship). this is short but it's important for her future relationship with a certain someone | i used echo instead of y/n here, but tell me which one you prefer

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 2.09k

"I TRIED TO LOOK FOR THE BEST IN THE WORST BUT LIKE, FUCK ME, THAT CAUSED A COMMOTION."

As the evening progresses in Austria, the bustling noises of the city begin to fade into the background, replaced by the occasional murmur of distant conversations and the gentle swish of car tires on the damp pavement. The scent of rain lingers in the air, mixing with the subtle aroma of pine carried by a cool breeze from the nearby mountains. The warmth of the day still lingers, but it's now more tolerable, just a faint reminder of earlier heat.

Arthur paces back and forth on the soft carpet beneath his bare feet, his footsteps creating a restless rhythm that echoes in his mind. Every so often, he runs his fingers along the curtains, feeling the delicate and cool fabric against his skin. But it's as if he's only scratching at the surface of the problem consuming him.

The third stage of the Formula 3 championship went off without a hitch for the three races. Arthur claimed the fastest lap in the second race, while Y/N took home first place in that same race. Prema and Art teams were locked in a heated competition for points during the first half of the championship, with the French team ultimately taking the lead after Frederik Vesti's win at the last race in the Red Bull Ring.

Throughout that weekend, Arthur barely spoke to her. Despite being swamped with commitments such as hectic meetings, exhaustive tests, and endless interviews, they used to make an effort to connect even if it was just a quick call. However, her messages were always met with prolonged periods of silence before receiving a brief and unenthusiastic response, leaving her feeling confused and frustrated. Every attempt to call resulted in reaching voicemail without any explanation or apology for his absence.

Despite her victory in the second race, he was not one of the people who congratulated her. He also did not attend the podium ceremony for the third race, where she secured an important second place for her team. She had sent him messages, but he only responded with a short "thank you" for her congratulations on earning extra points for setting the fastest lap. He completely ignored her invitation to join her and some other drivers in a celebration.

She finally couldn't take the silence any longer and broke it with frustration. "Can we at least talk? We're not kids anymore, Arthur," she said, sitting on his cluttered bed.

"Are you leaving for France tomorrow?" Arthur asked quietly, still refusing to look at her as he packed his suitcase.

"No. Fernando wants me to go to Madrid and then Silverstone with him during my break. The team doesn't need me at the factory, so I have some free time," Y/N replied with a heavy sigh, feeling the tension between them.

She received only a grunt as a response, which was enough for her to know that it was time to speak up. "Are you going to turn around and actually use words, or are you going to keep grunting like some kind of primitive?" Her voice held a mix of determination and disappointment, reflecting her growing frustration with the lack of communication between them.

Arthur spun on his heels and made his way slowly towards Y/N, his face betraying a medley of conflicting emotions. She stood up from the bed, keeping a close eye on his expression in anticipation of what might happen next.

Their relationship was still new; they had met at a party thrown by a mutual friend who was also one of her teammates. That night, everything seemed to align perfectly for their chance encounter, and the initial spark of attraction quickly grew into something more profound. Through casual touches, shared smiles, and intimate conversations about their interests and preferences, they were building the fragile yet promising foundations of their relationship.

He paused, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the perfect words to express himself. She watched with curiosity, waiting for him to speak.

"Why didn't you let me overtake you?" Arthur asked, sounding unsure.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, trying to comprehend his question. She repeated it in her head, trying to understand the underlying meaning. "What do you mean?"

Arthur seemed annoyed by her confusion and scrunched his face in response. "In yesterday's race. I was right behind you, but you wouldn't move out of the way."

Her arms automatically crossed in front of her chest, her tone becoming defensive. She didn't like where this conversation was headed. "Why should I let you pass, Arthur? I don't remember breaking any rules to earn my spot."

Arthur released a frustrated sigh, feeling the tension between them escalating with each word they exchanged. He closed the distance between them, hoping to find some understanding in her eyes.

"I'm not accusing you of breaking any rules, cherie." His tone softened, attempting to diffuse the situation. "I just want to know why you didn't make room for me to pass. It seemed like you were intentionally blocking me."

Y/N felt the weight of Arthur's words as an accusation, and it only added to her growing frustration. She couldn't believe they were having this argument now, when there was so much at stake for both of them.

"Of course I was blocking you! We're competitors, remember?" Her voice was firm, but she laced it with a confused laugh. "My team needs those points. I need those points. Why would I let you have them?"

Arthur took a step back, caught off guard by the intensity of Y/N's response. He looked both surprised and disappointed, struggling to process her strong emotions.

"I just thought you would understand," he muttered, his voice trailing off as if he regretted speaking at all. Unable to meet her gaze, he turned away.

She felt a surge of anger within her, a mix of frustration and sadness. She was taken aback that Arthur would question her integrity on the track, especially considering their intimate relationship off of it.

"Understand?" She repeated, each word dripping with disbelief. "Arthur, I want that title just as much as you do. It's not my responsibility to make it easy for you or anyone else. You know that."

There was a tense moment of silence between them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city outside. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at the feeling that something was unraveling between them, something that might never be fully repaired.

"I know," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of weakness. "But I thought we were more than just competitors."

Her expression softened briefly, a flicker of sadness crossing her features before she steeled herself with determination.

"Arthur, I can't sacrifice my career for our relationship," she said, her voice softening slightly. "We both knew what we were getting into when we started dating."

Arthur's voice turned defensive as he tried to justify his actions. "Don't you think it would have been better if I had won?" He glanced at his girlfriend, his eyes pleading for understanding. "You're still new to this category; there will be other chances for you."

She raised her eyebrows, her gaze unwavering and intense. "So, you're saying it would be acceptable for me to lose simply because I'm a rookie?" Her tone was sharp, like a blade cutting through the air.

Arthur paused, searching for the right words to explain himself. "No, that's not what I meant," he stammered, but Y/N cut him off.

"Did you give the same speech to all the other rookies too?" her sarcasm evident.

Arthur's discomfort flickered across his face before he turned back to meet her unwavering stare. "The other rookies aren't in a relationship with me," he retorted with a hint of harshness.

Y/N fell silent, digesting his words. Then, she stepped closer to him, locking eyes with determination.

"Tell me honestly, Arthur," she began calmly yet emotion thick in her voice. "Did you want me to let you win because I'm a rookie or because I'm your girlfriend?"

Her question hit Arthur like a punch to the gut, leaving him struggling to find the right words. He couldn't hide from the truth any longer.

"I…I'm not sure," he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper as uncertainty and vulnerability seeped through. "Maybe it's a bit of both."

Her expression hardened, her eyes showing disappointment and frustration in equal measure. She had expected more from him, hoped that he would acknowledge his own flaws and confront them head-on.

"So you don't trust me as a competitor, as a driver?" she asked, her voice betraying a slight tremor of emotion that she was trying to contain.

Arthur's heart raced as he met her intense gaze. He knew his words had hurt her and shattered the trust she had in him.

"That's not what I meant, cherie." He struggled to find the right words, but they sounded hollow even to his own ears. "It's just…I don't know how to handle the fact that you're better than me."

She was filled with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to scream at him, to tell him that his insecurities were not her responsibility and she couldn't sacrifice her own ambitions for his approval. But at the same time, she felt a twinge of empathy for him, understanding that his insecurity came from a place of deep vulnerability.

"Arthur, I can't change who I am because of your doubts," she said firmly. "And I won't apologize for excelling at what I do."

Arthur's voice took on a smooth, almost patronizing tone, a subtle edge of superiority laced within his words. "You must be feeling quite pleased with yourself, wouldn't you agree?" he mused, his tone carrying a delicate sting. "Stepping onto the stage as a rookie and quickly grabbing the spotlight. Impressive, definitely, but experience and dedication? Those are qualities that develop over time, babe."

Her brow furrowed slightly, a mix of disbelief and hurt flickering across her features. "I just want us to understand each other," she started, her tone gentle yet resolute. "I'm not trying to belittle what you've achieved. But it's not about placing blame. If you truly have the experience and talent you speak of, shouldn't overtaking me come as second nature, without needing to ask?"

Arthur's cheeks flushed with a sudden surge of anger, the tension between them palpable. "You underestimate what it takes to rise to the top," he retorted sharply, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Talent is one thing, but true success in this realm requires more than just skill. Experience is the key that sets winners apart from the rest."

Her eyes narrowed subtly, a flicker of impatience dancing within them. "What makes you assume I lack dedication and experience?" she questioned calmly, her tone holding a hint of challenge. "Just because my journey in this sport hasn't been as long as yours doesn't diminish the effort I've put in."

Arthur emitted a dry chuckle, his resentment barely concealed. "You've had quite the advantageous start, haven't you?" he remarked, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You believe your familial connections and wealth entitle you to success? Reality doesn't operate on such privileges."

Her hands tightened into fists, a surge of defiance coursing through her. She refused to let his patronizing remarks undermine her accomplishments. Her voice remained composed yet firm, slicing through the tension. "Privileges? It's ironic coming from someone who's thrived under their brother's shadow," she countered, her gaze ablaze with determination. "You stand there, relying on your average talent to compensate for the countless doors opened by your surname."

Arthur's complexion deepened with a flush, a blend of shame and anger twisting his expression. He despised the constant comparisons to his brother, weary of residing in his sibling's imposing shadow. This resentment fueled his determination to establish his identity.

"I'm not my brother," he snapped with intensity.

She met his gaze steadily, her defiance unyielding. "No, you're not. And that's the problem," she countered sharply, her tone slicing through the air.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, the air crackling with unspoken animosity as they stood facing each other. Her eyes burned with fury, her hands clenched tightly by her sides. She was done playing nice.

"I'm not carrying anyone's burdens," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "I have my own stuff to deal with. You don't like the fact that your girlfriend is better than you? Consider this problem solved."

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[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Happy

Villain stumbles through a dark alley. They had barely escaped the police after their fight with Hero. Their ankle hurts. They probably sprained it during the fight. A few of their ribs hurt. Not broken, but certainly bruised. It's a relief that they don't have any deep wounds, but it's still going to be a painful night. There is not much they can do except sleep the injuries off. Damn it. They should've seen the Hero sooner. They might have saved themselves a few bruises.

All of a sudden they hear a sound behind them. They stop in their tracks. If it's one of those annoying ass reporters they're going to throw hands. Why now? Villain hates talking to reporters. They just want to go home. “Don't think I didn't hear you.” Villain says loudly, making sure whoever is behind them can hear them. “I'll give you 10 seconds to run.”

When they don't hear movement they turn around. Even then the stranger doesn't make a move. Villain sighs. If the reporter fainted, they're going to leave them to the rats.

They carefully walk forward to the dumpster the stranger is hiding behind. They peek behind it, expecting a scared reporter.

Only to find a child, maybe ten years old. “What the-?” Villain starts to say but gets interrupted by the child. “Canyoupleasesignmydrawing?” It comes out quickly and very high pitched. “Sorry?” The Villain answers taken aback by the sudden request. The Child takes a deep breath and asks again, now slower. “Can you please sign my drawing?” The Villain blinks a few times trying to process what the Child just said. Never, and they mean never, has someone asked Villain to sign anything. Let alone a child. Signing things was usually the Hero's job, and making fun of it the Villain's. There was so much they wanted to ask but the only word that came out was: “Why?”

“Because I think you're cool. And you helped my sibling.” Now that confused Villain even more.

“I think you have the wrong person. Hero went the other way, kid.” Villain says pointing to the direction Hero ran to. “You're Villain, right?”

“Yes…”

“Then you're the right person.” The Child says offering their drawing and pen again. “I don't know who saved your sibling, but I can assure you, it wasn't me.” This kid knows what a villain is, right?

“No, no. You did,” The child said confidently. “You're the one. I saw your mask on the kitchen table.”

Okay, now Villain is absolutly confused. And a little freaked out. Where did they put their mask on a kitchen table?

“You helped them stop the bleeding! Sibling never let's me in the living room when they come home late, but I know they're always hurt. And you helped them, I am sure!”

Then it hit Villain. Two weeks ago Hero and Villain got into a really bad fight. Villain got a few bad cuts and bruises but Hero was seriously hurt. Against better judgement, Villain went to Hero's house to stitch their nemesis up. They had never noticed the child lurking from the kitchen.

“I think I understand now…” Villain starts slowly. “Yes, I helped your sibling. But we will fight more with each other then we help each other.”

“Oh…” the child's face drops in dissapointment. “They seemed so happy and relaxed when you left.” And Villain was back to confused. “Happy? After I left?” Why would their nemesis be happy after they helped them. “Yes, I haven't seen them like that in months,” The Child answers, a sliver of hope making it back onto the their face. “I was actually going to ask you to come have dinner with us, but if you don't want too that's fine.”

“No, It's alright. I'll come.” Villain had to figure out why their Hero was happy when they left.

Next part

Hi! It's a short one today, but hopefully still enjoyable. (And apperantly i have a thing with naming my snippets with emotions)

My requests are open if you want to ask for a snippet or something else!

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author's Note: I write these at work and I work nightshift all alone in a little gatehouse, right? I kid you not 3 coyotes were staring at me through the door and I didn't even notice. I saw them running by on the cameras but I honestly thought it was just a group of feral cats cause they were so small.

Anyways, thank you for 300 followers!! I'm geekin' out over that! And Friday morning the last chapter will be out 😈🙏

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 5: Finishing Touches

The word excited was a vast understatement when it came to seeing you again.

Leon's heart was thrumming against his chest as he stood silently in front of your apartment door. His hand was raised up halfway, ready to knock, but a sudden wave of anxiety was holding him back. He was at your apartment. Your apartment.

The drive over was relatively short, it was closer than your workspace, yet he felt confident the entire way here. Now here he was, frozen in place, worried his knock would be too loud or make him seem desperate, even. A ridiculous thought, obviously the man knew that, but it gripped his mind nonetheless.

You must've had a sixth sense, having opened the door before he'd built up the courage to actually knock, when all reality you just recognized the sound of his motorcycle at this point. The sweet smile you gave Leon was enough to draw him into your apartment. He was quick to take his jacket off since he was sweating bullets, hanging it up on the coat rack next to your front door.

You could tell he was nervous just by how jittery he was, it was endearing yet worrisome at the same time. Seeing how worked up you made him was adorable, but at the same time you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable around you.

"Sit wherever, Mr. Kennedy. My house is yours." You placed a hand on his bicep to try and ease him, smile still remaining as you watched him survey the living room. A quiet laugh fell from his lips as he trained his eyes on you. "It's Leon, please. Making me feel real old over here..." You rolled your eyes with a playful groan. It was just a formality you'd trained yourself to respond with when it came to clients. A hard habit to break since you'd never really dated any of them before now.

With a gentle pat, you slowly turned and walked off into your admittedly small kitchen where the faint sound of boiling water could be heard. It took a few seconds before Leon decided to follow you, not totally convinced to take a seat just yet. You glanced over your shoulder at him before turning back to reach up into one of your cabinets, pulling out a couple mismatched mugs. "You like chai?" He nodded, licking his lips at the idea of something to drink.

The man could only stand awkwardly a few feet behind you and watch as you grabbed a couple tea bags from another cabinet, setting reach bag in their respective mug. An electric kettle sitting atop your counter beeped once it reached the selected temperature, prompting you to grab the handle and pour the water into the mugs.

You covered the mugs to let them steep, turning around to lean back against the edge of your counter so you could look at Leon. He looked like a lost puppy, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he took in your kitchen. With a sympathetic sigh, you pushed yourself from the counter and looped your right arm through his, leading him out of the kitchen back towards your living room. "Get comfortable, I'll bring the tea over here, okay?"

He just let you lead him over to the couch, sitting down at your request with a meek nod. He really should be more confident than this, but he was far out of practice when it came to women. The idea of messing this up for himself was terrifying.

Leon's head followed you as you walked around to the front of the couch, watching as you set the mugs on the coffee table before sitting down next to him. He rested his hands on top of his thighs, eyes now stuck to the tea placed in front of him.

"Are you feeling alright? You look like you're gonna throw up." You meant this in a joking manner, even giggling a bit as you spoke, but Leon's head jerked away from the tea to look at you, eyebrows furrowed with worry as he shook his head. "No-.. No, I'm okay, just... Can I be honest?"

That kind of question never failed to make you nervous, and he was quick to pick up on that, clearing his throat after stumbling over his words. "It's... It's been a long time since I've done anything like this. Seeing someone."

Your mouth formed a small 'o' shape at his confession before falling back to that same sweet smile that you welcomed him in with. "You're right to be nervous, Leon. But hey," you paused to scoot closer to him, ".. I've had the privilege to learn a bit of backstory from you already, and after working with a few other agents before you, I have a general idea on just how taxing that kind of job can be."

Leon tightened his lips as he listened to you, worry still plain on his face. You were right and maybe that's why he grew to like you so easily. He didn't have to explain anything since you already knew the basic gist of it all, holding a level of understanding that most other potential partners wouldn't have.

You reached in front of him to grab the mug, carefully placing it in one of his hands before reaching further to grab the other, now having him hold the mug with both hands. He kept fidgeting with his jeans, clearly needing something to hold onto.

"I won't pry, the details of your job seem pretty intense, but I want you to know that I'll never turn you away, relationship or not." You'd grabbed your own mug now, looking down as you pinched your index and thumb on the paper end to the tea bag to jostle it a bit. "You've more than earned the time you have now to just be yourself."

Leon swallowed dryly, turning his attention down to where he was holding the mug in his lap. He didn't even know he needed to hear those words, but dammit were they definitely hitting home.

"Thank you." He managed to say, voice meek and slightly scratchy from just how dry his mouth had become. "You... have a way with words?" He breathed out a chuckle to which you followed up with a laugh of your own. Despite feeling so vulnerable and awkward, he still managed to make a joke.

You closed your eyes as you brought the mug up to your lips, taking a sip of the now perfectly warm tea before opening them again to give the man next to you a smirk. "What a charmer you are, huh?"

And just like every other time the two of you had been around each other, Leon started to relax by the hour; talking more, joking more, getting closer to you, and once you both finished up the tea, he held onto your hand with his own.

He followed you around your apartment when you excitedly asked to give him a tour. It was small, a very humble one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, but to Leon it was probably the most comfortable place he'd ever been. So similar to your workplace in terms of decor, but now it was full of your more personal items.

The smell of the tea from earlier was beginning to fade, making way for the smell of just you, such a pleasant and intoxicating smell to the man.

Your bedroom was the biggest culprit so far, the two of you winding up sitting on the edge of your bed. Shamefully, he'd zoned out as you rambled on about whatever, just soaking in the feel of your comforter beneath his hands. It was soft, but definitely not as soft as your lips were.

While Leon was zoned out, his eyes had gotten stuck again, this time on your lips as they moved. You were focused somewhere else, looking forwards, not really paying attention to where he was staring. He so badly wanted to kiss you again, the last kiss didn't last nearly as long as he would've liked it to.

Leon knew his words would fail him and he wanted to act before his nerves got the better of him, leading him to moving his eyes up to yours, his hand reaching to gently hold under chin so he could turn your head to face him.

The feel of his hand caused you to pause your ramble, letting him turn your head to face him. He looked so handsome with that wanting look, his eyes flittering from your own and back down to your lips.

He seemed to know what he wanted, so you opted to just let him slowly pull you closer into a kiss, eyes closing as your lips touched his. It was a little longer than the kiss you shared the night before, but after pulling away and seeing the shy smile you had, he couldn't help but pull you right back in.

His eyebrows furrowed, hands finding their way to your back to pull you closer, one between your shoulder blades while the other on the small of your back. You arched against his touch, letting him angle you the way he wanted. Leon's hands moved to make way for his arms, biceps flexing as he tightly wrapped them around you. He had to hold on tight, fearing he would lose his little slice of heaven if he didn't.

Your lips felt amazing against his, so soft and pillowy. And god, the way your skin felt when he shifted one of his rough hands up under your shirt. He needed more, all of you.

He let out a low groan, almost a growl as he nibbled on your bottom lip before moving down to your neck. He leaned back a bit so his shoulders were resting against the head of the bed frame, managing to pull you even closer so your chest was pressed up a little higher than his, his head buried into the crook of your neck.

You breathed out a shaky breath as his hands began to wander again, still underneath your shirt. They went up and down your back, moving down to occasionally squeeze your waist. You made the prettiest sounds when he did.

Leon felt so needy, holding onto you like this, for dear life. He couldn't help it. You were his lifeline right now.

His lips trailed along the underside of your jaw and down the front of your throat, making sure to leave a trail of hickeys in their wake. He could feel you swallow and the vibrations from your moans, loving how alive you felt in his grasp.

You ran your fingers through his hair before gently tugging him away from your neck, tilting his head back ever so slightly so he was looking up at you. He was panting, breath cold against your spit-covered neck. You gave him the most endearing look, one hand trailing down to cup the side of his face. You didn't want him to worry even for a second.

"I'm not going anywhere." You whispered, running your thumb along his bottom lip before bringing him into another kiss. His grip on you loosened enough for you to carefully slide down and settle your upper half into his lap.

Leon's lip quivered as he watched you, hands trembling once you'd slid out of his grasp. Your words were comforting, but he couldn't hold onto you the way he wanted when you were down there. Though, with the way you rested your cheek against the bulge straining in his jeans, he wasn't all that worried anymore.

You watched your hand with a lazy smile as you stroked him over his jeans, both arms resting on his thighs to keep them spread apart. Leon needed love and care and you were more than willing to help him make up for the lost time.

After unbuckling his belt and pulling it off, you unzipped his jeans, sitting up to pull them down in the front. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, silently asking for permission to which he eagerly nodded his head. He even reached his hands down to help, but you swatted them away.

"Let me take care of you..." Carefully, you pulled the front end of his boxers down far enough for his cock to spring out and then up against his stomach, already leaking precum. Leon groaned as the cool air hit it, causing his hips to jerk up a bit.

You didn't want to tease the poor man, so you reached your hand up and gripped the base, pulling it upright and to the side slightly. You stroked him languidly before placing a gentle kiss against the shaft. He whined, his legs now starting to shiver from the adrenaline.

Leon never could've imagined he'd get this far with you tonight, let alone get to watch you stroke his dick while giving it kisses and little kitten licks. A pitiful moan was pulled from him when you wrapped your lips around the tip to suck, your hand now stroking him faster.

You were so careful with him, focusing on his pleasure, having even stopped a couple times to make sure he was feeling good and also just to tell him how good he was doing.

With his cock now deep in your throat, tears were streaming down his face, small sobs falling from his lips as you bobbed your head up and down. It was all so much; the smell of your bedding, the feeling your mouth wrapped around him, the sound of his own weak little cries hitting his ears.

"I'm-.. God I'm sorry- I-" He spoke breathlessly through the moans and sobs, hands fisted into your comforter as he began to worry he'd chase you away. You pulled your mouth off of him, hand moving from holding the base to stroking him again. "You're doing such a good job, Leon. Just let go for me.." With your hushed words, you quickly put your mouth back around him, going right back to deepthroating him.

His orgasm surfaced fast, throwing his head back with a high pitched whine as he all so suddenly came down your throat. After pulling away, you gave the tip of his cock a gentle kiss before tucking it back into his boxers for him, staring up at him while running your hand along his thigh.

It was hard for him to look down at you, his head feeling heavy. A few small tears fell here and there, but now he was able to give you a tired smile. "Was that alright?" You asked him again, voice raspy from deepthroating the man.

Leon huffed out through his nose, smile widening as he quickly sat up, reached down, and pulled you up so your chest was pressed against his again. He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly once more before burying his face into your neck.

It would've taken years for him to open up like that with anyone else, but it was different with you. You already knew, you understood, you were patient with him.

You made him feel weak in the best way possible. For once in his life he didn't need to be that strong, stone-cold agent who didn't bat an eye at death. With you, he could be soft.

It only took a few more sessions for Leon's portrait to be finished. All that needed to get done was some finishing touches since little things tend to get smudged along the way. All a part of the process.

Unfortunately for Leon, you didn't let him see the final product, blocking his every attempt to see it while saying something about "You don't get to see the bride before the wedding!" Whatever that meant.

When you told him it would take about two months to dry, he turned into the biggest man-child you've ever seen. Leon was just as bad as Chris in that sense, only difference being Claire was there to help contain Chris when he tried to see their portrait. Now you were left to deal with Leon's shenanigans all on your own.

No matter how much he begged and pleaded, you didn't relent. Hell, you even chased him out of the building with a dirty paintbrush. Two months was too long to wait for something like that. You were basically torturing him.

Luckily for you and him, it was easy to distract the man with the promise of a comfortable night at your apartment with some takeout. Afterwards, he really only ever asked about the portrait when he saw you working on something else. By now you'd hidden the painting away from his prying mind to give it time to dry. Out of sight, out of mind.

In the meantime, you would sketch him at random; while he was sitting on your couch, with his glasses on, naked on the bed posing for you "like one of your french girls", which was pretty funny yet surprisingly helpful. It had been a long time since you had the chance to draw a nude model, and what better than the ex-agent you'd grown so fond of?

Now it was just a matter of playing the waiting game. Leon's portrait was made to be extra special, secretly working on it while he was sleeping or off at the gym. Sure it prolonged the drying process, but you can't rush perfection in the end.

tags!: @greywardensaywhat @xkittiecatx @httpsuguru @k-fallingstar @lysa1201 @bobastayhigh @pocketstoriesstore @agent-dessis-posts @klee-iii @missjoenowhere @bbjposay @lazuliglace @bigtiddiesimp @finsternisle @sweets3rial @sodacolablast (there's a few of you that tumblr wouldn't let me tag for some reason 😭)

[hitoshitoshi]

Teacher!Caleb would be an elementary teacher if he wasn't a pilot. He's just so patient with the kids, but he's also stern when he needs to be. Teacher!Caleb would teach kids in a way where they could all have fun so that way, they associate learning with fun, and not feel bored while learning. He would make it a competition for who can learn vocabulary the quickest, and have small prizes for them to enjoy.

Teacher!Caleb would make sure to learn each of the kid's likes and dislikes and incorporating it into the examples that he uses so it feels more personalized. "Mhm, you're right on track there, you have a team of 6 Pokemon, and 4 faints, how many Pokemon do you have on your team? [...] That's right, you have 2 Pokemon on your team! You're so smart. How about if you have 3 Pokemon, and you want to double your team—"

Teacher!Caleb would make sure that during lunch time, no kid would go hungry, so he always had a cabinet of snacks, filled with yummy but also nutritious things for them to eat. He was a kid once too, so he knew how much kids wouldn't eat something if he knew that they didn't like the taste of something, regardless of how hungry they were. Whenever a kid runs up to him with their little legs, he already knows the protocol and pulls out his drawer. "Pick any of 'em you want that you want to eat. The whole world — well, drawer — is yours to choose from."

Teacher!Caleb would make sure that no one gets left out and made fun of. He himself, was an empathetic indivudual, and if he was witnessing any bullying, he was going to stop it right then and there. No one gets put down in when he's around, much less in his classroom. Fun Teacher!Caleb was gone the second that there was disrespect going on. He would pull the kid to the side, and make them understand what empathy was, and how the kid wouldn't like it if someone was mean to the kid, so the kid shouldn't be mean to others. He would make sure the kid apologizes to whoever they were mean to — a proper apology: a sorry, the specifics of what they did and why they're sorry, and what they were going to do to change. Teacher!Caleb wasn't going to let these kids grow up to be people who didn't ever apologize or take accountability for their own actions. He took his job very seriously. Teacher!Caleb would make sure that no kids would associate any bad marks or failure with bad connotations. He knew how some kids depended on academic validation, or was stressing because of their parents, so he makes sure to change that mindset so it wouldn't become worse later on. "No, no, no, don't call yourself a failure for not passing a test. Think about it this way, you know what you got wrong and you know what type of studying doesn't work out for you. Instead of focusing on that, think about what you can do for the re-test. You know what you don't know, what you do know, and what form of studying doesn't work for you! That's called "failing forward". Always, move forward and don't stay in the past." Teacher!Caleb would be the type to use his own money to have end-of-the-year parties. It wouldn't be just pizza, but other food too! Pizza, fries, wings, cake, and more. He wanted the kids to celebrate and have a good time before ending the school year — to relax and hang out with eachother one last time before summer vacation started, where some of the kids would be separated from other kids when they move up a grade. He would play fun music and pull out pictures of his partner (you) and show you off to the kids. "Ahahah, yeah! This is my partner, aren't they super cool? I love them to bits and pieces. They're actually my childhood best friend—" Teacher!Caleb would want to make a difference; to actually help kids grow up. He wasn't just a teacher that taught kids schoolwork, he wanted to teach them the foundations of life through different ways of seeing things and learning. He wanted to be that teacher that made others excited to learn. He wanted to be that teacher that people can rely on. He wanted to be that teacher that helped change and guide people's lives in a positive way. He wanted to be that teacher that helped people discover things about themselves. He wanted to be that teacher that helped people to learn to love and respect other people and themselves. He wanted to be the teacher that he never got growing up. He wanted to be that teacher for others.

If you like otome games, including Love and Deepspace, you should join Linkon Lounge! A discord server that's LGBTQ+ friendly (only serving those who are 18+) where we all can share our interests, talk to roleplaying bots (Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Sylus), and have fun game, movie, and stream nights where we stream games and/or cards that we pulled that others want to see. It would be super fun to have you as a member of our server.

Click here to join Linkon Lounge!

Masterlist

[twinsunstars]

Scalder, thinking: I don’t think anyone here is well versed in knowing how to act during an event of a fire breaking out. Considering Omega being around, the possibilities of a fire could be high. So… *lights a torch she took from one of the labs* Even though I’m not in charge any longer, it’s up to me to make sure everyone knows how to handle a situation like this. *later, doctors on Tantiss working normally, following their routines* *Scalder walks around, waiting for someone to notice the fire smoke she started* A doctor: By the Force, FIRE!! *the doctors start freaking out* Scalder: Oh, a fire? What’s the regulations? What do we do? The doctors: *screaming and running to get to their own safety* Hemlock, materializing out of nowhere: Oh my god, it’s happening! Everyone stay calm! Stay FUCKING CALM!!! *Emerie getting the news, immediately running to the Vault and locking it down and making sure the kids are safe* Emerie, running to the kids: Hey, it’s okay, everything’s fine. Omega: What’s going on? *all doctors are running around and screaming for help* Hemlock: Commander Scorch, call for help!! *Scalder tries to get them to listen and follow protocol while watching the chaos, eventually giving up and making a loud alarm go off after extinguishing the small fire she created, standing up on a table* Scalder: Everyone, this was just a test drill. There is no actual fire, just a training exercise. Hemlock: What?? *a doctor drops down from the ceiling after trying to escape that way* Scalder: So, what did we learn? *a doctor faints, causing more chaos*

part of a new incorrect quotes series, Tales From Mount Tantiss!

Tales from Mount Tantiss Incorrect Quotes Masterlist

[maxybabyy]

The power has been out for an hour when he finds the kid looming around in the hallway.

He’s in the same old NYU shirt that Daniel always sees him in. The shoulder seams hang loose from his frame, and there’s a giant hole in the sleeve, big enough to fit a thumb through if you tried. Max must have done that before, he thinks, chewing away at the strings. The silly plastic thing is gone too, leaving nothing but the frayed tips.

“I reckon it’s gonna be out for a while,” he says when Max just keeps staring at the emergency light flicker. The one fucking thing this shitty building actually has. Maintenance is shit, and he’s pretty sure there’s a new species of black mould growing in the hallway window. But at least their little void on the seventh floor follows the safety guidelines.

He taps his socked foot against Max’s scruffy sneakers, watches him turn around with a frown.

“I was playing with my friends, and then the electricity went out. I thought it was for me only, so I checked the fuses,” Max tells him with his hands high in the air, his fingers flicking along with his words. Daniel doesn’t even know where he would look for the fuse box in his shithole of a studio. “But it is of course the entire building. I think maybe it is the lightning,” he adds.

“Nah, the building is just shit,” Daniel tells him. “If it’s not a water leak or a fucking rat problem, it’s the power. Same old shit and they won’t fix it. Just wait until winter when the heating will go away too.”

Daniel has learned to keep himself busy when the snow starts falling. LA, in particular, is great around Christmas when New York becomes too unbearable.

“I was here in the winter also,” Max says, gestures to door where he lives like Daniel doesn’t already know. “It was so nice of you, giving me a Christmas present. I of course had not bought you anything, but you said –“

Blake had dropped off the newest batch of merch samples right around New Year’s, and they had all been shit. The design was wrong, and the colour palette was completely off. They still haven’t gotten the peach the right colour, but the other shit looks fine now. Back then Max had – he would walk around in the same fucking shirt he’s wearing now. Skinny jeans frayed at the hem in a way they aren’t supposed to be, a rolodex of white tee shirts from Target, and a thin, barely-there windbreaker to fend off the cold.

Daniel had given him the leftover merch, he had to. There was no fucking way he couldn’t do it.

He taps Max’s shoe again, watches him crack a grin before he nods his head towards his apartment. “Do you wanna come in? I just have like, a candle and shit, but we can chill until the power comes back.”

Max nods and follows him inside.

Daniel doesn’t offer him a beer, sips at the can while they both watch the flicker of the wick. He doesn’t have another candle, so this one will have to last, the whispers of sea breeze faint between them.

He’s telling Max about his latest gig – some dive bar with a shitty ironic name like Cheers or Sam’s, or shit like that – when Max reaches out to poke at the candle. His skin looks glowing in the candlelight, a warm contrast to Max’s usual pale skin. His fingers look long, elegant as they curl around the candle, his thumb stroking over the dripping wax like it was –

“Daniel?” Max prompts, eyes flickering from the wick to his face and back again, “The drummer is of course an idiot, but it went alright, you said?”

Daniel jerks back into the couch. He swallows loudly. Tries and fails to convince himself he hadn’t been zoning out on the kid’s hands like a fucking weirdo. Safety first, he thinks faintly, can’t have a fucking fire during a power outage.

Max keeps playing with the candle wax, making it drip down onto Daniel’s shitty white wood Ikea table he had carried home in the subway. But every time he touches it, Max sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth, presses down to make it run faster, and Daniel cannot find it in himself to stop him.

Max’s in the middle of a story about his family dog back in the Netherlands, when he accidentally touches the flame. He’s quick to pull back, hissing loudly as he sucks his pointer and middle finger into his mouth with a muddled, “Fuck!”

“Careful!” Daniel scolds. He’s already halfway across the couch reaching for him like a fucking mother hen. But instead of his hand, Daniel grabs onto Max’s thigh in his panic, the muscle firm in his grip. Max watches him back, flexes his thigh as he sucks the fingers deeper into his obnoxiously big, oddly fitting mouth, and Daniel cannot keep – has to look away.

Stares at Max’s knees instead, awkward and protruding and littered with odd bruises.

Daniel wonders how he got them, forces himself to think of less nefarious reasons for how they could appear. Once, Daniel had gotten so drunk that Scotty couldn’t get him to come down from the bar, dancing away until he felt dizzy with exhaustion and drink.

Back then, when his body had been young and spry, he had slammed to his knees before swinging his legs to the side to get off the bar. They had been black and blue for a week before his knees had recovered.

But Max doesn’t let him ponder for long, slides to the floor in a move impossibly fluid for someone to not have done it a hundred times over. He’s quick to reach for Daniel's jeans, one hand still spit-slick as he pulls at the zipper, and Daniel has to – cannot let him do this.

“Hey, mate,” he says, laughs nervously. “Aren’t you like sixteen or something?”

Once, he had tried to give the kid a twenty so he could buy himself some food for the night. Gaunt cheeks and lanky body a cruel reminder of his own teens. Refusing money from Grace and Joe to prove he hadn’t screwed up by running away to America to make it big.

But the kid didn’t take the money and had instead stared at him, brows drawn together much like he is now. “I’m nineteen,” he says.

“In a year or two, maybe.” Daniel scoffs. But still, he doesn’t move. Max’s hand stays on his dick, heavy and warm despite the temperature of the apartment. “Be real, man. I’m fine with you sticking around but –“

Max snarls. He stays on his knees, but Daniel cannot meet his eyes, stares himself blind where his jeans have become undone. “Always you do this. You are so kind to me, flirting with me, but then you run away when I respond!

“Now you ask me to come to your apartment, with the mood lighting also, and again you will not touch me. This is not fair, Daniel.” Max says and digs his nails into his thighs, forces Daniel to look at him – at the furious glare and the too-red lips.

It’s unfair how good he looks sitting between Daniel’s spread thighs. There’s a dusting of pale, blonde hair at the top of his thighs where his shorts have crawled up, and his entire face is flushed with emotion. It’s all Daniel can do to not put a better name to it – the death of creativity for once not a foe. His cheekbones sit high and sharp on his face, a mole on his lip revealed only when Max doesn’t bite into it, looking so fucking pretty.

Maybe that’s why he’s here of all places. Scouted off the fucking streets and put in a shitty apartment in some mirror nightmare of Daniel’s, waiting impatiently for Vogue to call.

Max is still staring at him, and Daniel doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He’s not going to fucking card Max in his own apartment, that’s a cunt move. Max would probably throw the card in his face, if he asked, indignant little glare before he would lean in and –

“Yeah, alright,” he whispers but it’s enough. Max hears him, and he does lean in to pull his jeans the rest of the way off.

Max takes him into his mouth, lips stretched around the head almost obscenely, and suddenly Daniel has to force himself to close his eyes shut. It’s too much already, watching Max take him even deeper into his mouth as his head thumps back against the couch. He clearly knows what he’s doing, relaxing his throat as he goes. His hands are firm on Daniel’s hips, keeping a steady pressure until Daniel gets with the programme and fucks into his mouth.

He barely has the time to let Max know before he’s coming. But Max doesn’t move, keeps him on his tongue until his mouth is full and Max has to swallow.

“Shit, Maxy,” he moans, thighs still shaking as Max climbs to his feet. “You’re not. You don’t have to –“ But Max doesn’t leave, drops into Daniel’s lap with his shorts abandoned on the floor.

Max jerks himself off with one hand balanced on Daniel’s shoulder. It’s closer than Daniel’s been to someone else’s dick in years, since Scotty got down on one knee and fucked everything up. A cock is a cock is a cock, but Max’s dick looks almost pretty held in his own fist.

It makes him think of the fucking candle from before, how the wax had dripped between his fingers, and how quick he had been to suck them into his mouth, like he had just done to Daniel, to his dick.

“Daniel,” Max begs, watches Daniel watch him fuck into his own hand desperately. “Please.”  

“Okay, yeah. I got you, Maxy.” He says and slips his fingers into Max’s mouth. It’s only the first two, but his dick still jerks at the reminder of the warm heat of Max’s mouth, the tight pressure and how his tongue cannot keep still. Max whines when he pulls them out, shoots him another furious look that is quickly replaced with a shout when Daniel brushes over his hole. “Like that, yeah?”

Max nods, eyes wide for another moment before they screw themselves shut as he comes with another sound. It’s another few minutes before Max speaks again, the words muffled against Daniel’s chest where he still hasn’t moved. “What’s that?”

Max huffs and sits upright, rubs at the spot on Daniel’s shirt where his dick has left a smear. “I said, the lights are back.” He says, gestures to the room now bathed in light.

“Oh.” Daniel couldn’t tell you when that happened, if it was before Max went to his knees or after. The candle still flickers behind them, pools of wax already hardened on the wood. “I guess they are, yeah.”

[dat1angel]

Oreos and Apologies

The sun blazed in the heat of late spring as Dash made his way out of the locker rooms. The wet droplets still clinging to his hair from his post-practice shower felt cool on his skin. Dash took his time as he walked across school grounds towards the parking lot, enjoying the atmosphere of the empty campus. As team captain he was always last to leave, needing to make sure everyone else got out in a timely manner and all equipment used was properly cleaned and put away, but he didn’t mind. It was nice to not have to put on the performance of the energetic jock when he was exhausted from running drills. So imagine Dash’s surprise when he turned a corner and saw a person sitting against a building, their knees drawn to their chest and head resting in their arms. 

 Was that… Fenton? It was. What was Fenton doing here? Dash froze. Surely he didn’t hear that right? Nope, there it was again. A faint sniffling. Fenton was crying.

Dash wasn’t sure what to do. If this was one of his friends he would comfort them without hesitation but he didn’t know if his presence would be appreciated. Dash knew that he hadn’t been the kindest to Fenton in the past. Who was he kidding, he was an asshole, but he had matured during the summer between sophomore and junior year and stopped picking on him. Even still, that didn’t make them friends in any sense of the word. Hell, he didn’t think he ever apologized. Fenton hadn’t noticed him yet. He could just turn around and leave, pretend he never saw anything, but it just didn’t sit right with him to walk away when the other boy was clearly distressed.

With an internal sigh, prepared for this to bite him in the ass, Dash walked over and sat himself next to Fenton. He kept his gaze stubbornly looking in front of him, even when Fenton jumped at the sudden presence of a person next to him and jerked his head to look up at him. God, Dash was regretting this already. With his eyes still firmly locked in front of him, Dash reached into his backpack, pulled out a snack-size pack of Oreos, and held it out for Fenton to take. Dash couldn’t help but feel nervous as Fenton looked at him, then at the Oreos, then back at him. Like he was being judged. Whatever he was looking for, he must have deemed Dash acceptable because he slowly reached a hand up and took the offered snack.

They sat there in a half awkward half comfortable silence, the only sound the occasional crumple of plastic and the soft munching of cookies. Dash knew he needed to talk to Fenton sooner or later, and while this may not have been the best circumstances, Fenton didn’t seem any more willing to start conversation.

“I owe you an apology,” Dash stated bluntly. He tried not to let himself be deterred by the way Fenton turned to look at him but didn’t say anything. “I’ve owed you one for a long time actually.” Fenton actually let out a small snort of laughter at that but didn’t interrupt.

“I’m really sorry for the way I treated you in the past. I could go on about how I was a stupid teen, or I was going through my own shit and I took it out on you, or how peer pressure made it feel okay to pick on the ‘nerds’”, Dash made air quotes with his fingers here, “but that doesn’t excuse my behavior. I was a dick and you didn’t deserve that. You don’t have to forgive me, I don’t expect you to, but I felt like I had to say it.”

Dash trailed off after that, not sure what else he could say, or if he even should say anything else. Thankfully, Fenton saved him from having to.

“If you had given me that little speech at the beginning of the school year, I would’ve laughed in your face,” Fenton’s voice was still somewhat scratchy from his previous crying, “I’d have thought ‘How dumb does he think I am? I’m not falling for that.’” 

Dash’s face burned with shame. He should have known this was a bad idea. 

“But you know?,” Fenton continued, ”Ever since the start of the school year, I’ve noticed the difference in treatment. No degrading nicknames, no threats or acts of violence, you’ve even told other kids to leave me alone. Shit, I’d say you’ve actually been pretty nice to me. I’ll admit I was pretty suspicious at first. Kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to drop the act and go back to how things have always been, but it never did. And now? Maybe you’ve pulled off the long con and I’m an idiot for ever believing you could change, but I think you’re being genuine. So I accept your apology and I do forgive you.”

While it had started rough, Fenton’s voice was firm by the time he finished speaking. There was no waver or doubt in his tone and when Dash looked over at him, Fenton was looking right at him. The eye contact was intense but it showed the real trust that Fenton was placing in him. Trust to not screw him over. Trust that Dash was being sincere. Maybe it was that trust that made Fenton feel comfortable enough to share his thoughts.

“You probably think I’m pathetic right now,” Fenton started, “sitting here after school hours, all alone, crying. But then again, maybe you don’t. Maybe you’d understand. Afterall, in all the years I was bullied, even you respected when I came out.”

Dash’s eyes widened as he realized what Fenton was implying. He let himself see the signs that he didn’t know to look for before. The way Fenton drew up his knees, his arms wrapped around them, as if to shield as much of his chest from view as possible. The way that, if you were able to see past the obstruction, there seemed to be more volume beneath his shirt. Dash let his gaze move downwards and- there. On the ground were torn scraps of fabric. Fenton tensely tracked his movement as Dash slowly reached out to grab one. Upon further inspection Dash could tell that it had once been a binder.

Anger coursed through Dash at the thought of someone tearing Fenton’s binder off of him. Fenton had been right when he said that Dash has always respected his transition. This is because Dash has a cousin who is trans. A cousin that is more like a best friend to him. A cousin who he would kill for if anyone tried to be transphobic to them. So yes, in all the years of bullying, Dash never made a single remark about Fenton being trans. He made sure all his friends knew that he wouldn’t tolerate it if they did either. It had always been too easy to imagine it being his cousin in the victim's place whenever he saw that kind of behavior.

“Who,” Dash said, not taking his gaze off the fabric scrap in his hand. His voice was steely calm, despite the rage burning behind his eyes.

“..What?” Fenton asked, shock evident on his face at Dash’s tone.

“Who. Did this.”

Maybe it was his emotionally compromised state, maybe it was the fact that he had never seen Dash like this, but Fenton didn’t try to argue or say it wasn’t something he should worry himself with. He just dazedly said, “Eric M.”.

Dash nodded to himself before pushing himself off the ground and into a standing position. He briefly dusted himself off before turning to Fenton and holding out a hand.

“C’mon, I’ll give you a ride home,” Dash said. Fenton studied the offered hand. His gaze briefly flicked up to Dash’s face before dropping back down as he hesitantly accepted. 

The two boys slowly started their walk to the school parking lot. It was quiet but not uncomfortably so. Dash frowned as he noticed the way Fenton’s arms came up and wrapped self-consciously across his chest. While the shirt he was wearing wasn’t particularly body conforming, without his binder there was a clear definition. Without saying a word, Dash shrugged off his letterman jacket and draped it over Fenton’s shoulders. The jacket that sat comfortably on Dash absolutely swamped the smaller boy. Fenton gave Dash a questioning look but Dash gave no comment so neither did he.

It didn’t take long for them to reach Dash’s car and after that it was only a ten minute drive to the Fenton household. Dash pulled to the curb right in front of the door. He watched as Fenton slid off the borrowed jacket and gave it back with a quiet “Thanks” before exiting the vehicle. Once out of the car, Fenton offered him a small wave then made his way inside. 

Dash sat there in his parked car even after Fenton was out of sight just thinking over all that had happened. When he finally drove away, he didn’t go home. He had something he needed to take care of first.

~000~

Danny hadn’t expected anything to come from his impromptu chat with Dash when he went to school the following Monday. He walked into school and made his way to meet up with Sam and Tucker before class. He was tense as he walked into homeroom but let out a sigh of both relief and confusion when he saw the empty desk that belonged to Eric. The desk remained empty all throughout first period. And second. And third.

As classes broke for lunch Danny made a quick stop at his locker, assuring his friends he would meet them in the cafeteria after getting what he needed. He was distracted from rifling through his belongings by a soft thud to his right. When he turned to look he found Dash casually leaning against the neighboring locker.

“Hear what happened to Eric?” Dash asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. His expression was reminiscent of a cat that was very pleased with itself as he gazed out at the hallway. 

“No?” Danny replied, not even trying to hide his confusion.

“Word is he’ll be out of school for a week on bed rest. Broke his leg,” Dash turned to make eye contact now, “Skateboarding accident. Or something.” 

Danny’s expression shifted to one of surprise as he registered what Dash told him and he couldn’t help but feel touched.

“...Or something,” Danny said. 

The two boys stood in silence for a moment, unsaid words hanging in the air, before Dash pushed himself off the wall and started walking away.

“See ya around, Fenton,” He called over his shoulder.

Danny couldn’t help the soft, genuine smile that grew on his face as he watched Dash’s retreating form.

“See ya around, Dash.”

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Lost & Found

(1-3)

Previously | Next

Short story # 20

Gif NOT mine.

Summary - When you followed your best friend Wade Wilson into the Void, you never expected to cross paths with your lost love, Frank Castle.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW (Though there is talk about some dark themes, including death and attempted suicide.)

Reading time (roughly) - 14 minutes

⚠️Some small spoilers ahead!⚠️

We'll pretend that The Punisher didn't die in the void, and in your timeline you were married to Frank, and he was the one to die with your kids, and you became The Punisher.

Ignoring the blood on the seat, (Y/n) lounged in the far back seat of the Honda Odyssey. "You two are ridiculous, you know that right?" She asked the men who'd just finished their little pissing contest of a fight. "Mhh hufp eh." Wade tried speaking, but the seatbelt secured tightly around his mouth prevented actual words. "No I will not be unbuckling you. I want to get some rest, and I can't do that if you idiots keep fighting. So shut up and go to sleep." (Y/n) sassed her best friend, ignoring Logan when he chuckled dryly. "If I didn't know you'd survive it, I'd have shot you both myself." She added with a huff, closing her eyes in an attempt to sleep. "You're welcome to try sweetheart." Logan mused, a faint grin stretched across his lips. "I'll save my bullets thank you." She sassed, smirking when she heard Wade giggle. "My son's were better behaved than you two." She added in a soft tone, upon hearing her admission Logan cracked open an eye, glancing over at Wade who'd gone uncharacteristically quiet. "Were?" He asked without much thought, unaware of the story behind The Punisher. He opened his eyes further when Wade writhed in an attempt to free himself, grunting and huffing about something. "Another time Wolvie, another time." (Y/n) muttered, regretting having brought it up in the first place.

Wade ceased his struggle, but still muttered to himself. And the more Logan thought on it, the more he realized that something bad must have happened. Something Wade clearly knew all about, considering how hard he had been trying to free himself. "I'm sorry." Logan muttered quietly, hoping she heard him. "You didn't know." She responded, as her arms crossed over the white skull painted across her black body armor. "I shouldn't have said anything in the first place." She added while sleep clawed at her tired mind. Logan hummed in his throat, closing his eyes once more as he relaxed into the reclined seat. "How many did you have?" Logan asked without thought, again making Wade struggle against the seatbelts. "Curiosity killed the cat you know." (Y/n) said as she cracked open her eyes, looking to the older man dressed in yellow. "I'm sorry... I just..." He struggled to find the words, unsure of why he was so adamant in asking questions. "I had two sons." She told him, leaning forward to rest her hand against Wades shoulder, to calm his frantic movement. "I was in the special forces, then I was an FBI agent, and I made a lot of enemies in both lines of work." She sighed softly, locking eyes with Logan when he turned to look at her. "During my last mission things went south, and a young man that shouldn't have been there got killed."

She leaned her elbows on her knees, swallowing the knot in her throat. "His parents were the leaders of this big criminal syndicate, and they wanted payback for the death of their son." She leaned back in her seat. "Their men killed my entire family, during a big family reunion in Puerto Rico. They run my husband and sons down with their truck like animals. Then they tried killing me, shooting me in the chest, and then they blew up the pier, while I lay at the end bleeding out." She exhaled through her nose heavily. "'Bout five months later I hunted them all down one by one, and I saved the father for last, made him kill his best friend and his own wife even. That was all three years ago. I met Wade not long after I finished the job, he actually convinced me not to kill myself." She chuckled bitterly, with a roll of her eyes. "And now look at us, lost in the asshole of the universe." She mused sarcastically, making herself comfortable in her seat again. Wade tried wiggling free again, seemingly determined to comfort his best friend. "Don't worry 'bout me bud, I'm alright." (Y/n) said in a comforting tone, smiling softly when he relaxed again. "Now that's enough story time, go to sleep." She instructed like a mother would, making Logan chuckle with a smile. "You're one tough woman." He said as he relaxed once more.

When the car jolted with movement, (Y/n)'s eyes snapped open. With a quick glance, she noted that Wade and Logan were still passed out. Looking to the drivers seat she saw a girl with dark hair driving the car. The sound of the safety clicking off of (Y/n)'s pistol caught the girls attention, and she locked eyes with (Y/n) through the rearview mirror. "Who are you?" The Punisher asked, unsurprised that Wade and Logan still slept soundly. "A friend." Was all the girl said, and (Y/n) hummed as she clicked the safety back in place. "Hope for your sake, you're tellin' the truth." Was all she said as she holstered her pistol, relaxing into her seat she could tell that they were headed in the right direction. "You're a Punisher?" The girl asked, glancing in the rearview before focusing on the path ahead. "I am." (Y/n) clicked her tongue, unsurprised that there was most likely more Punishers within the Void. Especially considering the way Nova had spoken to her the day prior, as if she'd met her before and considered her a traitor. "There's one at our safehouse." The girl told her as they crest a hill, pointing to an inconspicuous place on the horizon. "He's quiet." She added, and the older woman moved to sit in the passenger seat, careful not to bother the guys as they slept.

"If he's anything like me, he's been through a lot." She said brushing away the broken glass before sitting down. "We all have." The girl said, glancing to (Y/n) who nodded her head in agreement. "I suppose you're right." She glanced back at the guy's. "My names Laura." The girl introduced as she put the car into park. "(Y/n)." She nodded her head, and shifted in her seat when the young girl got out of the beat up car, leaving her behind with the guys who still slept soundly in the back. Sighing under her breath she moved to the back, and pulled her combat knife from the sheath strapped to her thigh. With little effort she cut away the straps keeping Wade pinned to the seat, once he was free she simply slapped him across the face. "Daddy?" Wade muttered as he sat up, shaking his head to shake off the sleep. "Not quite." (Y/n) chuckled before testing her luck and slapping Logan as well. The older man snapped awake with an angry growl, his claws extending from the hand closest to her, and he blindly tried swiping at her assuming it was Wade. (Y/n) however dodged the attack with swiftness, smiling at him when he realized who she was. "You'll have to try harder next time." She mused before pulling the sliding door open, letting herself out. "I thought you were Wade." Logan admitted, as he followed her out, feeling bad that he could have seriously hurt her. "I knew what I was doing." She shrugged before cracking her neck.

"Hey that's just hurtful." Wade cut in as he climbed out of the car, glaring at Logan who scoffed at him. "Where the hell are we?" Logan asked as he observed a door leading to a stairway. "Let's find out." (Y/n) mused as she took the lead, followed closely by Wade who was complaining about a stiff neck. "Hey how exactly did we get here?" Wade suddenly asked as they entered a large room, where people were clearly living. "A friend." Was all (Y/n) said, while she observed the trinkets lying around. "Bullshit." Logan muttered, beelining across the room when he noticed a bottle of liquor. "A friend?" Wade questioned with a small tilt of his head. "Patience bud." (Y/n) mused with a faint grin, noting the sound of approaching footsteps from the stairway. "You know I think that's what I like best about you both." Wade pointed to (Y/n). "You always call me bud." He then pointed to Logan. "And you call everyone bub." He then placed his hands on his hips. "It's cute." He added making both Logan and (Y/n) roll their eyes. Before Logan could make a remark, several people made their entrance, and with each person Wade became increasingly excited. Apparently he knew something neither (Y/n) or Logan knew. But when the fourth person descended the stairs coming into view, (Y/n) dropped the glass jar she'd been holding.

Logan glanced at her, and Wade gasped in shock. "No way." He rushed to his best friends side, latching onto her arm like an excited kid. "(Y/n)?" The man breathed out, looking just as stunned as she did. Logan glanced between them, noting the matching gear and decorative skulls. "Frank." She whispered his name, the both of them rushing across the room immediately after to embrace. "How are you here? Alive?" Frank asked as he pulled away from the embrace, to hold her face between his hands. "I could ask you the same thing." She breathed out, her eyes glossy and her throat tightening. Without another word he pulled her into a kiss, both of them pouring their heart and souls into the kiss as if it were their last. "Okay the kids are watching." Wade called out just as Frank's hands drifted down (Y/n)'s back, and when he realized what he'd said he winced as if he'd been stabbed. "Who's he?" Frank asked as they parted again. "A friend. He's kept me sane after..." She said as her hands drifted down his chest to trace the iconic skull. "You're not really her are you?" He asked as he brushed his thumb across her jaw. "And you're not really him." She muttered as she leaned into his touch. "What happened to you?" Frank asked. "Same thing that happened to you by the looks of it." (Y/n) placed her hand over his heart.

"(Y/n)." Wade called out her name softly, drawing the attention of both Punishers to him. "Right." She sighed softly. "We need your help." She looked back to her husband, then to the others that stood on the other side of the room. "All of your help actually." She said as she pulled away from Frank, who was reluctant on letting her go. "Our universe is dying." She explained, only to get cut off by Blade. "I don't give a shit about your universe." He retorted, and Frank glared at him. "Some heroes you all are." She shot back with a scowl. "Whether you care or not, billions of people are going to die needlessly, and there's a chance you can help change that." She looked to Frank, taking a small step back she held her arms out. "I'm no hero, I'm a killer. It's all I've ever been, and it's all I'll ever be. But when someone threatens to kill off my entire universe, I will die trying to stop them. Not for myself, but for them. All of them, the ones that can't defend themselves, the ones that need a goddamn hero, and the ones who will never know of the sacrifices made to keep them safe." (Y/n) looked back to Wade, dropping her arms back to her sides. "I have nothing left to fight for in my universe, but I am still willing to try saving it for those who do." She then looked back to the others. "And if you all would rather sit here and rot away in the asshole of all the universes that's fine." She looked between each of them.

"But I refuse to just sit back and claim it's not my problem, so I'll go back out there. And I'll probably die trying my damnedest to get Wade and Logan passed Nova, but I will die doing what's right, and I will die knowing that I at least tried to do the right thing." (Y/n) said as she took another small step back, and then turned to Wade. "Cap would be jealous." Wade joked, trying to lighten the mood. (Y/n) simply rolled her eyes at her friend despite the small smile on her face. "No I'm serious, I've got tears." He said as he pointed to his masked face. "I'm going with you." Frank said as he moved closer to his wife. "I couldn't save the version of you in my universe, but if there's a chance I can protect you, to save you." He took her face between his hands again. "I'll do whatever it takes." He promised before resting his forehead against her own. "I like her." Gambit said, with a nod of his head. "I'm in." He concluded as he flipped a card between his fingers. "Yeah okay, I'm in too." Elektra agreed as she rest her hands on her hips. "Fuck it anything is better than sitting around in this shithole, I'm in." Blade said as he messed with one of his knives.

"Who knew you were so good at speeches." Wade said with a giggle, yanking (Y/n) away from Frank in his excitement, so he could jump around with her in his arms. "You're all gonna fucking die." Logan said before taking another swig of the liquor he'd been nursing. "Maybe, but atleast we'll have died fighting for something." (Y/n) retorted as she shrugged Wade off. "I'm coming as well." A fifth voice called out, as she entered from another room. Wade gasped in surprise, looking to Logan as he pointed to the girl. "That's X-23." He told him, but Logan didn't seem to care much. "Her names Laura." (Y/n) corrected Wade, who did a dramatic double take. "You know her?" He asked with a small tilt of his head. "She's a friend." (Y/n) told him with a faint grin, holding back a laugh when Wade shouted with excitement. "I don't know how you put up with him." Frank muttered. "He takes some getting used to, but he kinda just grows on you after a while." She said as she smiled to her husband. "Look I know you're not the Frank from my universe, but I just..." Her smile faded. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, and our boys." Her eyes drifted to the floor, the pair of them oblivious to what was going on around them. "Hey hey look at me." He encouraged as he tilted her head up. "I know you tried your hardest, he knows that you tried your hardest. Don't ever forget that." He kissed her forehead, before pulling her into his arms, her head tucked under his chin. "Thank you." She whispered softly, trying to ignore the tears welling in her eyes.

Previously | Next

[sugar-omi]

Imagine mc giving birth to their baby. You know, Cove is probably panicking, Baxter pretending he's okay but at some point faints and our brave Derek letting mc crush his hand with theirs lol

And also I've seen a clip of a dude who just witnessed his wife deliver their baby and, with a face full of horror, he told her, "I am SO sorry, I won't do that again. " 🤣😭

I'm just imagining one of the boys saying something like that, in my head it's so funny

omg i almost missed this!!! im so glad you brought this up bc i love thinking abt how the boys are during delivery, especially cove omg (im sorry this is such a ramble... but also not sorry bc my brain worms are dancing in happiness at these thoughts)

cove:

even though you've had months to prepare for this and cliff n kyra has given cove lots of advice, paired with a lot of "don't freak out!" (sometimes followed by something freaky that happens during pregnancy or labor...)

he's prepared for this though. as prepared as an anxious first time dad can be. i mightta said this before, but whether you have him in the room the whole time or just to come cut the cord and hold the baby, is up to you.

if you have him in the room he'll let you hold his hand and he'll be holding yours back (he doesn't notice the pain of your grip for the longest...)

he definitely does what you mentioned and apologizes for putting you thru this LOL

after you give birth, he will do everything... he'll change diapers, put them down for naps, burp, wash, everything... because after that he needs to even the balance (if it was up to him, you'd never lift a finger after that, especially if you have multiple kids via birth)

HE'S ALSO OVERLY PREPARED

delivery bag? more like BAGS. mans has double of everything, he's PETRIFIED

also he runs to any place you want and buys you food while you're in labor if it's really long

and he stays with you up until its go time, then if you want him to wait outside he will

also he faints... or at least gets weak

if you have a c-section he's alrdy freaked out bc... omg they're taking a knife to you thats scary shit

but just natural birth? he's doubly freaked out because your body can do THAT??? you're literally pushing out a whole baby and he is awed but losing his shit honestly

would be babbling praises and encouragements (both for you and himself) n you can tell him to shut up its okay bc he's gonna laugh in the end anyway, but he'll probably end up going quiet bc he's trying not to be distracting and he probably saw something he wasn't prepared for 😬

probably starts crying the closer your baby gets to being out the womb, n after they're fully out and here he's bawling and just realized it but also he's trying to comfort n check on you first so you end up laughing bc he's fretting over you as if he isnt flooding the room

baxter:

mans is NOT CALM

tries to look calm, but he just looks constipated and he looks tired honestly

he's been losing sleep this whole pregnancy bc he's afraid of being a bad father, but he's so excited and ends up staying up at night talking to your belly so he just can't win

surprisingly dropped the collared shirts and slacks

mans is stuck in t-shirts and sweatpants or jeans

his hair is a mess too

omg he's napping when you go into labor

he jumps up, mismatched socks (either he's wearing an ankle cat print sock and a knee high sock, or he's wearing one sock. its bad n i think him wearing one sock is better (worse for him but hes fineeee))

the nurses love him bc he's running in and out bringing you food and runs back to get anything he or you forgot or might need

another over packer

honestly they're all over packers who are we kidding

this is where is wedding planner job comes in handy

has backups and plan b's for everything

and even though everything is right he brings extra just to feel better

won't be in the room if you want that ofc, but he psychs himself up to be in there

he's really scared n nervous, more-so than cove actually. but he wants to support you and if you want him in there, he's there. even if you reassure him he doesn't have to be there, he wants to be

he has to sit down while he's there, his leg is shaking and he's torn between watching whatevers going on over there and watching your face for any signs which.. doesnt really make sense since labor isnt like going to the waterpark but he has a kind heart <33

spends so much time looking at the baby... cove does too but baxter spends double that time

watches the nurses and doctors like a hawk whenever they mess w the baby

will curl up next to your bed and thanks you so much for giving him such a beautiful life, this is all stuff he never thought he'd have and he's so happy

derek:

he's actually the calmest one

he has 2 siblings and even though he was young when they were born, he has lots of experience with babies and he prepared

isn't that bad of an over packer actually, just extra baby stuff and some of the best snacks

but he'll still surprise you with your favorite food or takeout

he will do anything for you during labor, remind him to just sit down and hold your hand n stfu, thats what nurses n doctors are for n he really can't help much atp, its all up to you and the nurses+doc

holds your hand even though you might be hurting him. will just wince thru it or convince you to switch hands

will keep giving encouragement and either times it perfectly so he doesn't get on your nerves or you have to kindly ask him to shut up bc you're not playing ball, it isnt helping!!!!

also pulls a cove and does a lot of the work around the house and with the baby bc that was tough work, labor and carrying the baby? you deserve it!!!

ends up talking n holding the baby a lot, is probably a little scared since theyre so little and just holds their hand or looks at them

you sometimes wake up to him mumbling stuff to the baby, abt how happy he is, how he's going to take care of you both, how much he loves them...

carries everything outta the hospital by himself (by everything he means your hand and the baby, his family is probably dragging your stuff to the car bc they're here to help n make your life a million times easier and its literally a sleepover with nico around)

anyway. i need more dad!derek hc's now, specifically uncle nico and jorge, bc that is such a big brain thought

now this applies to all the boys honestly, i didnt even think abt it until now

but he helps you walk to the bathroom and put on all the pads n underwear n stuff if you need it

i remember seeing a youtube short where the woman said her fiance or husband helped her walk to the bathroom, spray her coochie w the water spray bottle, and with the underwear stuff

so don't worry about how you look or if it's icky because you're all sore and/or stitched up or anything like that because he's not paying attention, he just wants to help you in any way possible

[double-features]

BREAKFAST CLUB - PETER MAXIMOFF x READER

≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼ ------ peter maximoff x gn!reader

SUMMARY : reader is considered a bit of a basket case amongst her classmates, an enigma to most. during detention one day, the annoying kleptomaniac decides to bother reader! the two totally dont hit it off at first, but eventually learn to appreciate one another <3

WARNINGS : implied abuse ( never outright stated or described, not even really implied too heavily really ) , nothing else really!!

GENRE : fluff !

───────────────୨ৎ───────────────

Maryland, circa 1972. I had no reason to be in detention.

I just felt like it. Didn't want to go home, I supposed. As much as I disliked the idea of having to stay at school off the clock, the thought of going home was wayyy.. wayyy worse.

I wasn't popular in my year. People saw me as a bit of an outsider. Just some weird kid, a basket case to most around me. There was so much more to me than that stereotypical "oh they're so weird, they belong in an asylum" crap everyone spread around about me. But, I enjoyed the serenity of being alone.

Especially being a mutant.

I didn't have a mutation that altered my appearance, luckily enough, I was blessed with something not noticeable to the naked eye. Thermokinesis with a not so fun blend of pyromancy. Well, at least that's what I dubbed it. Fire, basically. I can heat myself up and create fires. Wooo!! Fun!! I'm basically just a walking campfire.

And my mutanthood is exactly why I hate people.

Well, that sounded misanthropic. I don't hate people, I'd just much rather be alone and unbothered. I'm already picked on enough being a quiet kid without the whole mutation thing, So, I decided I was just going to keep it a secret and keep on living the lonely life.

Anyways, back to the whole detention thing.

I sat in the back of the library, with my head plopped down on the desk. Honk mimimimi. I wasn't actually asleep, but I was pretending to be so the others wouldn't bother me. The 'others' being one other singular kid. I had him in a couple of my classes, always seemed like he was up to one thing or another. Had quite the reputation as a thief, always having run-ins with the police and shit..

Peter Maximoff, I believe his name was.

Wonder why he is in here now. Well, whatever it was, I didn't necessarily care enough to interrogate him on it. It's not like he was bothering m-

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.."

My peace was broken by a rapid tapping on my shoulder and the same word repeated over and over again. I didn't know he was behind me, last I saw, he was sitting at a desk while drumming his fingers against the table. I didn't hear footsteps or anything, a faint breeze hit my skin and boom. He was suddenly behind me, annoying as can be.

I squeaked out a noise and raised my head, in my peripheral I could see the boy swaying on his heels. He retracted his hands once he met my faux look of tiredness. "Hi y/n."

"Hello?" I treaded carefully, the two of us had never spoken a single day in our lives. Lazily propping my chin on my hand, I blinked up at Peter, who seemed restless. But then again, he always seemed restless. The reason? I never truly knew.

Without missing a beat, he hit me with the obvious question. "Why're you here?" The same question I am always asked whenever I popped up for detention. No matter who it was, it was always the same. Honestly, I had no reason to be here.

"Why're you here?" I retorted, unamused. I tried to make it clear that I didn't want to be bothered, that I just wanted to be alone, but I don't think poor ol' Maximoff caught onto that.

"Ah, well, pshh.. Y'know.. caught skipping class."

"You can get detention for that?"

Dot dot dot. He just stared at me as if I said the most stupid thing known to mankind. It wasn't even that dumb of a question! I didn't know that skipping was punishable by detention. I uncomfortably shifted in my seat when he didn't give me a proper response.

Until I heard his laughter. It made me flinch, just as I was about to put my head back down. "Well, duh, I'm in detention now for it, aren't I?"

In a flash, he sat down beside me. Now, I'm not exaggerating when I say he was perched in the chair in the span of a single millisecond. Holy crap. Before I could squish my face back against the table, Peter had left me in a state of shock, confusion.. security? He was just like me. Oh my god! He was like me!

"What?" His laughter died down once he caught my not so subtle staring.

"You aren't scared to.. y'know, show your curse?" I furrowed my eyebrows and took a minute to just think about it. Jesus, he probably thought I was judging him by the way I was glaring. Never did I ever think that I would meet someone like me. Especially not at someplace like a detention I don't technically need to be at.

"Curse? It's not a curse. Love my powers, dude!"

I chuckled nervously. I didn't want to make him think I was judging him, if only he knew that I was just like him. "You're not scared to like.. show it off though?"

"Nothing anyone would believe if you tried telling them.." He gave me a smug look while he raked a hand through his silver hair. Something I have always considered to be quite the fashion choice, but now that I knew he was a mutant, I was starting to question if it was dyed or if it was just a part of his.. well, mutation.

"You're a mutant." I bluntly commented on the obvious.

"No I'm not." He spoke quickly, just like how me moved quickly. Seriously, I was not getting over this anytime soon.

"Yeah you are."

"Nuh uh."

"Yuh huh!"

Peter chortled at my persistence, even in his stubborn denial of his true self, he kept the same shit eating grin plastered on his pretty face. I raised a dubious eyebrow towards him and he just responded with an innocent shrug.

"So what did you want anyways?" I spoke up after a bit of silence, since it was getting unbearable. I felt more comfortable around him knowing that he was a mutant like me, but that didn't mean I necessarily wanted to chat with him or hang out with him. "We're not even supposed to be talking."

"Nobody's around!! Hey, don't burst a blood vessel worrying about getting caught talking. I'll take the blame if anything happens." He dismissively waved his hand and swiftly sat up, and in that short period of time, he somehow acquired a decent sized pile of papers. "You're good at math, aren't you?"

"Not really?" I blankly stared down at what I assumed to be a bunch of math homework. Probably all missing. How the hell wasn't this boy failing?! He probably approached me because we're in the same math class.

Yeah, that made perfect sense.

"Shiiiiit!" he snapped and threw the papers behind us, and I just watched as they fluttered slowly down onto the dirty, carpeted floor of the library. "Well, nevermind then."

"Did you really only approach me to help you with homework?" I snickered.

"I mean.. we're in the same math class, and you just radiate nerd. Saw you in here, I was like, 'woah, it's that one rad girl in my math class.', then I was like 'it's that one rad girl in my math class!!!', you should feel honored that I picked you to be my tutor."

"Interesting story. I feel so special." I sarcastically snorted in an attempt to keep a straight face. It was hard to keep track of what he was saying, but he had a way of putting things into ways that, even when he is speaking fast, you can understand.

In response to my sarcasm, he gave a smug expression. "You should feel special. Anyways, even if you do suck at math, I just wanted to talk. You're a total enigma."

Silence.

I didn't really have too much to say to that. An enigma, huh? Peter truly thought I was such a mystery that he decided to intrude on my alone time in an unneeded detention. I perked an eyebrow at his persistence to hold a conversation with me, of all people.

"Why?" He suddenly asked. The question threw me for a loop, what was that even supposed to mean? Why what?

"Huh?"

"Why are you so aloof all the time? Everyone thinks you're a total nut job."

I could tell he didn't mean any harm by his words, so I didn't take them to heart. Instead, I rolled my eyes and shot back without even thinking. "It's not like your reputation is any better than mine, klepto. You know people think you're annoying, right? You.. are aware of that?"

Maybe I could have been a smidge bit nicer to him. That realization kicked in once he didn't respond to my snarkiness. Until..

"Do you think that?" Peter spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, as if unsure of what he was asking.

Do I tell him the truth or tell him a little white lie? I didn't want to hurt him any more than I may have already, but then again, we weren't friends, and I knew lying to make him feel better probably wasn't the way to go about this. Yet I still went with the latter. "Not at all. I know how it feels to be an outsider."

"I like to think I'm pretty cool. I never intend to annoy people."

Part of me felt a pang of sympathy for the silver haired ball of energy that picked me as his next buddy. He didn't want to annoy people. Peter seriously wasn't much different from me, we were both weird mutants just trying to live our lives in a widely disapproving world.

Unsure of how to express my true thoughts on Peter's 'always annoying people' dilemma, I give a very, very heartfelt response. "I.. Sorry..?"

Catch my sarcasm? Well, I immediately felt guilty afterwards, I wish I could have said more to cheer him up. Not that he needed it. It just seemed like he needed a friend at that moment.

"Why?"

"I'm a wallflower. I know how it feels to be seen as weird. Maybe not annoying, but I can sympathize with you, from mutant weirdo to anoth-"

Before I could realize my mistake and finish, I was cut off by a now starry eyed Maximoff in my face. He seemed excited, and I didn't realize why until he spoke up, "Duuude! No way!! You're a mutant?!"

I paused. Well, the secret was out now! I did a pretty damn good job hiding it from a majority of the school population, yet it slipped out whilst talking to the infamous twinkie thief. Guess he was just that easy to talk to, even if I hated to admit it.

"Well.. Uh.. Yeah?"

"I could literally kiss you right now, why didn't you tell me before?! I thought I was like, the only mutant at this stupid school!" My face heated up drastically, from what? I don't know. It might have been his opening sentence, or it could have been the energy he had, or maybe the acceptance that I didn't feel as if I deserved.

"In my defense, we aren't friends.." I mumbled, nervously fiddling and shrugging.

"Well.. Can we be? Be friends?"

After hearing his question, I perked up a curious eyebrow and a chuckle escaped from the back of my throat. A completely unintentional smile tugged at my lips. Why was I actually starting to enjoy his company? I was supposed to hate everyone and everything..

But him? I didn't hate him anymore. He was starting to grow on me.

"That actually sounds really nice.."

With a fist pumped in the air, he was in the seat next to me in a matter of seconds, a goofy lopsided grin on his face. "..Sooo.. Wanna maybe.. like.. pshh.. y'know? Hangout after this?"

Shooting another gentle grin in his direction, I roll my eyes and snicker. "Fuck it. I'd like tha-"

"Awesome!"

He took that as my confirmation that he was allowed to talk my ear off for the rest of the detention we served together. Funny. Who knew an in school suspension could lead to a blossoming friendship between two nearly total opposites?

Not that I was complaining.

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≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼ ------ reblogs & likes are always appreciated, keeps me motivated to continue creating :)

A/N : mighr make a part two?? mayhaps??