#outta whatever scenario that was

[ocdisgusting]

When im freakin out i really like to imagine someone else in my brain handling all of that for me really comes out more when i take a bath but anyway just had my freakout but in my head i was like in some office doing it with the me watching or whatever and they said "what do you want to do about this" and i had the thought "i wanna take a bath" and i snapped out of it

[sneeb-canons]

Don't know if it's needed, but TW for mentions of suicide. (It's not really that big, but I still put it just in case.)

If Sans Undertale were to judge them (plus Whole) based on what happened throughout the series, I think it would go something like this:

Heart: Sans would let him pass, but he's most definitely keeping an eye on him. (Trying to shoot Mind)

Mind: Judgement when completing Pacifist, yet you were rude. (Mocking Heart, yet not really committing any acts that would potentially have him earn EXP.) [Is there even a different judgement for being rude during a Pacifist run? I seriously don't even know–]

Soul: Would probably be given a bad time. (Threatening Heart and Mind, threatening suicide, probably killing the two in a few timelines, etc.)

Whole: Would be given a lecture to STOP RESETTING TIMELINES. (Obvious; he would forget five seconds later.)

Headcanon #230

[voidwhump]

New Apocalypse: Apocalypse either starts on screen or very shortly before.

Old Apocalypse: Apocalypse happened years ago, a new normal has been established.

[istherewifiinhell]

Hey wifi who would you say is the queer coded turtle in 87

https://twitter.com/ReddRaylee/status/1586336118315929600?s=20&t=0Ga3a2404Pl2K5iI2-oQ3w

[Tweet video of 87 Donnie saying "Hmm I hate being the straight turtle." End VD]

[stellardeer]

I can't stop ruminating on the post I made yesterday where I mentioned not liking the way Drake talks about women in his songs, and I keep trying to justify myself to a fake person in my head, so I'm just gonna write it all down cause I'm on my vyvanse and It's Thoughts Time.

So yesterday I talked about how I haven't been a fan of Drake for a while, even before the incident with Millie Bobby Brown when everyone stopped trusting him, because of the way that he talks to/about women in his songs.

And one could argue that there are plenty of artists who say terrible sexist/misogynistic things about women in their songs, calling them "bitches" and "hoes", using them as props, what have you. Why single out Drake? Why do I say he seems like "the next R Kelly"?

Well, refer to Exhibit A, article detailing R. Kelly's "sex cult". I believe this was the exact article that I read when I first heard about the shady shit that R Kelly was getting up to. This was published in 2017, two years before the sex trafficking charges against him in 2019, at which time the focus was on his underage victims. But the TL;DR for the article above is that R Kelly had his own little sex cult going, consisting of adult women, most of whom he met because they wanted a career in music and they trusted him as an artist and he offered to mentor them. He ends up in an intimate relationship with them, and then they end up moving into a house of his, along with other women under the same circumstances, complete with an older "den mother" type who was there essentially to teach these girls how to please and serve Mr. Kelly.

When people talk about the nasty things that R. Kelly has done, nobody ever really brings this one up. I'm not sure if it's because they just don't know about it, but I would argue that the reason they don't know is because it is not as sensationalized, because this was happening to adult women, not minors. And the women didn't necessarily complain. In fact, they'd have told you they were happy and nothing was wrong and they were being treated well and WANTED to be there, despite having given up whatever passion it was they were pursuing that led them to this life in the first place, and now existing solely as R. Kelly's plaything. These were consenting adult women, so why should anyone care? (Though, surprise surprise, some of them came forward to disclose that everything was not actually fine.) Sadly, this is just how cults work though. I advise reading more on how cults recruit people in order to understand why the consent in these situations is dubious, NXIVM is one in particular that comes to mind if you want a place to start.

Honestly, I think that if I hadn't read the article above ("Exhibit A"), I wouldn't have even been put off by anything in Drake's lyrics. It's very subtle, though. It's the way that it seems like he wants all of the women in his life to stay loyal to him. It doesn't matter if they aren't officially "together" or if he hasn't seen them in months or if he doesn't even speak to them anymore. If they're one of his girls, they should always be one of his girls, ride or die. They aren't allowed to have relationships with other men, but he can have as many relationships with as many women as he wants and they need to just be fine with it. I hear it in "Hotline Bling". I hear it in "In My Feelings". There's probably more that I'm forgetting but it's been a while since I've listened to a song of his and those are two I remember. Just so I could have some credibility I did a search on his relationships and he even admits that he prefers to date 4 or 5 women at a time. He never degrades these women with sexist language in these songs, in fact "In My Feelings" could even be read as a wholesome song, but I couldn't help but feel the ick. I might even just be reading too much into it, but I couldn't ignore how uncomfortable it made me feel so I just stopped listening to his music.

Then the Millie Bobby Brown situation happened and it was like oh okay so I wasn't crazy, and now everybody else sees it too. It should be noted that nothing was ever confirmed as far as him having an inappropriate relationship with her, just that he was "texting her boy advice" and that she was reluctant to divulge details of the conversation because it was private. That alone is enough to raise red flags though, like how did you even come into contact with this 14 yo girl, what connection do you have to her? Why were you texting her privately and talking about dating? Too sus, sorry.

But I can't help but feel like, again, people only notice when it's happening with minors. I'm not sure how many people understand that "grooming" is not a synonym for "pedophilia". It's most often associated with children, especially teens, because teens are a little more savvy and may need extra steps to take advantage of, but even a fully confident grown ass adult can be groomed. Granted, the younger you are the more likely it is to work. I'm pretty sure all of the women in R. Kelly's sex cult were around 18-19 when he met them. There is no magical threshold of wisdom and maturity that you cross the second the clock strikes midnight on your 18th birthday. Predators target younger people because they know that they are more likely to be naive and to not know the signs of abuse or the signs of a cult or the signs of manipulation. But because the people involved are all technically adults, and seemingly consenting, nobody wants to assume anything nefarious is at play. It's only when they get bold and start going after younger and younger targets that it becomes a problem.

I absolutely believe that if Drake could have his own little harem of obedient women he probably would. And that, to me, is way more dangerous than someone just calling women "bitches" in a song.

[luvrxbunny]

i think Miguel would get turned on by little things. like little details that someone would normally overlook or have no reaction to

so what made me think of this is specifically when girls say to guys that they’re gonna like— “fuck the life outta him” because technically it’s the guy doing the fucking but i think the tiny bit of role reversal would haunt his mind. he’s distracted for the rest of the day. his boner that he acquired when you said that never goes away

also if omg— i think this is just gonna turn into Miguel secretly wanting to be dominated (or just generally wanting to be treated how he treats others in a relationship) so hold on tight

if you’re passing him in the kitchen or something and— AHAHAAAA okay wait

so Miguel is chopping something in the kitchen but you need to get past him for the fridge or something. so he’s chop chop chopping and you scoot by, resting your hands on his hips to lean him forward a bit with a small “sorry, baby.” as you scooch by. you’d just hear his chopping stop and he’s getting hard already. you have about 30mins before he’s fed up and comes to u begging.

AND IF U DEFEND HIM??? omg he loses his shit. like falling into subspace no matter where u guys are— maybe not fully under but man is slipping.

let’s say you’re at a bar w Miguel and you go to the bathroom for two seconds. a girl approaches him all like “wanna buy me a drink, handsome?” and he’s like “oh! i’m flattered but i have a girlfriend!! so…” she’s like scoff scoff!! “she doesn’t need to know” wink wink and that irks him. it’s rude to his character and it’s rude to u. “i would never do that to her” he’s done w the convo so he turns back to the tv behind the bar, opting to watch whatever is happening there rather than the bitch beside him. but she’s still yapping! “what?? babe.. this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for u!! u can’t bend your rules just a little? *batting her ugly lashes* for me..?”

he just straight up rolls his eyes at her. she looks nothing like you so— “you are far from what i’d consider beautiful” he doesn’t even turn to her as he says it— he’s done w the conversation! but this bitch starts throwing a fit. “you’re a piece of shit loser okay?? you don’t know shit about beauty!! have u looked in the mirror honey?? looking like a fucking meatball is not in style alright?? i was doing you a fucking—“ she’s going on and on. some of her comments are starting to actually hurt Miguel’s feelings a bit (w his body issues and all) he’s about to just get up and wait by the girls bathroom for you but he’s scared to be seen as a creep. he feels dread sleeping in. he doesn’t know how long he’ll have to endure this before you come back and you both can just leave. “you’re an ugly 👏🏻 mother 👏🏻 fuck👏🏻er okay sweetheart?? you—“

“i’m sorry. did you call my boyfriend sweetheart?” relief floods through him at the sound of your voice. his head whips to see you, you have a playful smile on your face— but he knows the anger hidden behind it. it sends a little shock of excitement through his body. the woman’s eyes are wide as she stares at you, like she didn’t believe him when he said he had a girlfriend. “i— sis, listen”

you cut her off “i’m definitely not your sister. go on.” she pauses for a bit— shocked at your coldness before continuing. “girl to girl. you can do so much better, okay? your man— although “loyal” he is—“ you cut her off with a genuine laugh at he way she put quotations around the word ‘loyal’. “baby? finish your drink, okay? we’re leaving soon.” you look right past the girl, barely acknowledging her presence. Miguel nods frantically and downs the rest of his beer as you turn back to the girl.

“look. he’s my boyfriend. my man. i don’t care what you have to say. i don’t care what you say he did but i bet you i can guess the entire scenario” you have a confident, almost smug look on your face that has a fire burning in Miguel’s stomach. “you.” you pause to look her up and down with a weakly suppressed laugh. “tried to get at him… and then threw a hissy fit when he rejected you.. right?” she’s obviously embarrassed, staring at her shoes with an angry look. “well he said that i was ugly.”

you’re grabbing your purse from the chair behind her as she whispers that last part. you can barely make out what it says but you’re not even surprised. “and?” is all you say before walking out with Miguel.

in the cab he’s silent, worried that you’re upset until you speak up. “sorry if i was a hit mean back there.” you laugh a bit embarrassed. you go on to say that you know you shouldn’t have been rude, that people should spread positivity and more but he has to cut you off

“that was so hot, baby.” you take in his obviously disheveled, incredibly aroused state and give him a smirk. “yeah?”

you end up jerking him off in the back of the uber 🤪

he’s super whiny, whimpering, and will not stop begging for more

when u guys get married he gets really into choking u cus it shows off his wedding band

omf you’d do something nice for him while he’s sick— like make him soup or something and he’ll get hard

“you- you made this.. for me?” you’re baffled. “yes..? Miguel you’re sick remember? oh god this is way worse than i thought… do you know where you are, baby?” he laughs. “i know where i am! i just— that’s so- that’s so sweet, baby.” you shake your head and give him a spoonful, feeding him like he’s a baby. you’re focused on his mouth, subconsciously making silly faces as you pour the soup into his mouth. he’s watching you the whole time.

after that spoonful you go for another but he takes the bowl and places it on the nightstand. “wha— you don’t like it?” he smiles and shakes his head at your immediate doubt. “i love it, baby” is all he says as he pulls you into his lap, pressing his dick into you and begging you to ride him for all he’s worth

[lemon-lime-limbo]

𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐 | 𝖆 𝖇𝖓𝖍𝖆 𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙

pairing: shōto todoroki x gn! reader

warnings: kissing, reader is gender neutral (no pronouns used), slightly emotionally vunerable todoroki, insecure todoroki, very sweet fluff, innocent romance

genre: fluff oh my god

word count: 2.5k

note: bruh i never expect these to be so long but i start writing and can't stop LMAO anyway todoroki is sooooo yum and also i live for "we have to stay warm" scenarios so... that plus his heat quirk... enjoy!

The winter was supposed to be over; snow turned to slush as the sun did everything it could to melt it all. But night came with freezing temperatures, turning slush into ice underlayers for the new snow to pile on top of. At the start of the winter, it was soft and powdery, but as the season matured, it became thicker, denser, piling into nigh impenetrable snow mounds and filling up every driveway and street until plows came to get rid of it all. They weren’t always successful, so UA elected to cancel classes for the week, deciding it would be better to allow the students a break, both for morale and to prevent any issues from the snow.

Back at the dorms after extra training, you shook ice and snow off your clothes as you left your shoes by the door. Changing clothes was your first task, replacing a sweaty gym uniform with a clean shirt and plaid pajama pants. Even with the cold outside, the dorms stayed warm and the heating system worked overtime to combat the falling temperatures as night came.

Now, you join your classmates in the common area, tuning in to whatever movie they were watching after squishing yourself onto the couch among Mina, Tsu, Jiro, and Hagakure, at Mina’s invitation, trying not to bump Denki, who sits on the arm of the couch right beside you. The others are scattered on the floor beside the couch, engrossed in the action movie on the screen.

A hand bumps your foot as you try to get comfortable. “Oh, sorry.” You look down to see Todoroki sitting below you, back up against the arm of the couch, his arm grazing your leg. He doesn't look at you, so you stay quiet, ignoring how hot your face gets.

You’re the first to admit the movie’s pretty lame, bad CGI paired with a weak plot, but to you, getting to spend time with your classmates is more important than the movie. Everyone else seems to enjoy it, even with Denki’s stage-whispers of, “What just happened?” and, “Who is that guy again?” that somehow make the movie more entertaining. 

Snow falls in thick, wet flakes outside the windows, piling onto the small ledges until everything is covered in white as far as the eye could see. You glance again, but you can’t see anything through the flurries whipping around in turbulent circles just outside the building. The lights in the common area flicker a few times, earning a few groans from the others as the movie flickers along with them. 

The movie wraps itself up, a satisfying enough ending even for an unsatisfying movie. Mina shuts off the TV, leaving the couch to stretch. “Well, guys, I’m beat! I’m outta here,” she says, wandering down the hall to her room. “Night, everyone!” Most of the others follow her, yawning as they say their goodnights and leave to their rooms.

You and Todoroki are the only ones left, you still on the couch, and him standing about a foot away, stretching with a sigh. His plain black shirt rides up as his arms reach above his head, exposing the waistband of his own pajama pants just below his toned stomach. You’re thankful he stays turned away, embarrassed by your own inability to keep your eyes to yourself. His training has done him justice, He checks his phone and puts it back into his pocket. “I’m heading out, too. See you tomorrow,” he says, always polite. 

You yawn in response. “Probably smart. I’ll see you in the morning. Night, Todoroki.”

“Goodnight.” He disappears down the hallway, leaving you to your own devices, alone in the common area. 

Your face is hot, even now that he’s gone. Most of the girls in class 1-A agree Todoroki holds the spot for the most attractive boy in the class, and his polite yet relatively aloof demeanor keeps him there. It isn’t like you aren’t friends, so conversation between you isn’t out of the ordinary or shocking, but it still makes you nervous to talk to him. And it especially makes you nervous to be alone with him.

Heaving a sigh, you take the elevator to your room. It’s not very productive to stay awake just thinking about a classmate, so you decide to do some reading, taking a seat on your bed, grabbing your blanket and draping it over yourself. 

A low hum echoes through your room as the lights flicker before cutting out completely, leaving the room in pitch black darkness, save for the faint moonlight coming through your small window. 

Oh, shit. That’s not good. 

You scramble for your bookmark and set your book down, still wrapped in your blanket as you chew on your bottom lip, trying to decide what to do. You continue to wait for the power to turn back on, eventually pulling out your phone to pass the time. 

But as the minutes tick by, it’s impossible to ignore the chill in the air. The heat turned off, judging by the silence, and left the dorms with no source of warmth to protect against the bleak weather. That’s really not good.

With no signs of the power returning, you groan, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. What should you do? You can practically see the frostbite forming on your skin as the cold makes its way through your thin blanket. It’s too bad Denki already went to bed a while ago, so you doubt he’s still awake to restart the power. 

The dark doesn’t help, and you’re frighteningly alone in your quiet dorm. You turn on your phone flashlight, but you know the weak battery won’t be enough for even another hour. You wish you brought something battery powered to light your room, but you didn’t think that far ahead.

You shut your door tightly behind you as you tiptoe down the hall to the stairs beside the elevator. Hardly anyone ever uses them, but there’s a first time for everything, you suppose. The icy tiles freeze your slippered feet as you walk. Crisp air burns your nostrils as you grip the railing, fingers turning white as the frozen metal draws heat from your skin. The flight of stairs to the fifth floor is much more tedious in the dark, your phone flashlight illuminating every step up.

Reaching your destination, you knock gently on the door, hoping your target isn’t asleep.

No response. You turn to leave, but to your surprise, the door opens, revealing Todoroki. Behind him, soft orange light flickers onto the walls. “Yes?” he says. 

“I, uh- was just wondering if you had a candle you could spare me? Because the power, y’know… Well, I figured if anyone would have one, it would be you!” The chattering of your teeth apparently makes you talk a lot, and you have to clamp a frozen hand over your mouth to get words to stop falling from your lips.

He shakes his head, much to your dismay. “No, I’ve only got one, and I’m using it.”

A shiver runs down your spine in the cold hallway. “Oh, that’s okay! Sorry to bother you!” You move to leave, but a warm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“If you want, you could stay here,” he says. “I don’t have any idea how long we’ll be without heat. Or lights. And, I think we’re the only ones still awake.” He steps back into his room. 

Your eyes widen, but you go in regardless, feet padding on the tatami mats. It’s still chilly in here, much like your dorm. You’re grateful, however, for the light from the candle and also for his hospitality. He motions to the bed in the corner, gesturing for you to sit. “Thanks, I really didn’t want to just hang out by myself all night,” you say, perching gently at the foot of his bed. “It’s scary with no light.”

“No plans on sleeping?”

You breathe a laugh, fiddling with the hem of your plain shirt, though your fingers are sluggish.  “Can’t really sleep when blankets won’t do much for an eternal cold.”

He sits down on the bed too, but cross-legged at the other end from you. If you weren't so tense, you might have laughed at his respectful nature.  Nodding in understanding, he says, “Ah. I guess it is quite cold.” 

It makes sense he didn’t notice. “What about you, Todoroki?” you say. “Burning the midnight oil?” 

It’s hard for either of you to ignore the chills that wrack your body, even as you try to stabilize yourself. His eyes widen momentarily, and he stares at you, head tilted. To deny that his room is becoming colder would be impossible for you. It’s like someone opened a window to let more air in, because there’s no way the rooms should lose heat this quickly. You rub your arms, trying to bring any amount of blood flow back. And not to mention the flutter in your stomach at the fact that you are sitting on Todoroki’s bed, at night, alone, something that your female classmates would squeal at. 

He seems largely unaffected by the temperature and you being here, but that look on his face remains. Why is he looking at you like that? But he still doesn’t respond to your question, leaving you to clear your throat and try to avoid his gaze. “Are you okay? Is it too cold in here?” he says.

Your head snaps up before you shake it vehemently, waving your hands in the air in front of you. “No! No, I’m fine! R-really, don’t worry about me.” Your feeble attempt to reassure him is admirable, but he’s not convinced.

“Come here,” he says.

You laugh awkwardly, your breath forming a cloud of condensation in front of you. “W- um, what?” You stumble over your words, and you pray he thinks it’s just the cold. 

“You’re losing a lot of body heat, and even without light I can see your lips are turning blue. So, come here.” He holds his hands out to you and stretches his legs, staring at you expectantly. 

All the remaining heat in your body goes to your cheeks.

Every thought in your head runs rampant as your stiff body crawls over to Todoroki. His hands meet your shoulders, pulling you between his knees with your legs slung over his right thigh. Your side presses into the left side of his chest and his arms wrap around you.

His heat pervades your body, and you shiver in his grasp. Jesus, he’s so warm. Even in the dead of winter, he’s burning hot like sand on a beach in summer, and you couldn’t be more grateful. 

“Is this better?” he asks, breaking the silence. Probably an obvious question, but you’re sure his polite nature made him ask anyway.

You nod, swallowing hard. “Yes. Thank you.” Your body warms up, heat blossoming beneath your skin where his body meets yours.

But, as you bring yourself to look up at him and your eyes meet, you’re acutely aware of his hands on your waist, and the way the light from the solitary candle dances on his face, illuminating the jagged, reddish-brown scar that expands over the left side of his face. And his smell — warm and intoxicating, it infiltrates your brain until it short-circuits. Becoming bold with your newfound warmth, you reach a hand up to touch him, but something flashes in his eyes and his hand grips your wrist in an instant, pulling your hand away and making you gasp softly.

His eyes widen and he releases you. “I’m- I’m sorry…” he murmurs.

Hesitant fingers reach again, and this time, your hand connects with his face. His breath hitches reflexively and his eyes dart away from yours in shame. You swear you’ve never seen him like this, so unguarded. You run your fingers over the edge of his scar, where smooth skin meets raised. It’s mesmerizing you think, the way the discoloration feathers out, harsh and delicate edges alike making up the left side of his face. Your palm moves to his cheek and his gaze meets yours again. 

The sight is like a punch to the stomach, leaving you breathless as he stares into you, your hand on his face. One brown eye, dark like freshly-brewed black coffee, warm and inviting. The other, blue and glacial, like a cold winter’s night, much like this one. The dichotomy was almost laughable as his blue eye was more akin to night and the other, like day. 

Your other hand meets his face and you bring him closer to you. Inches apart, your eyes flitter around his face. Your fingertips slide into his silken hair, making his grip on your waist tighten, palms sweating over your shirt. 

“You’re beautiful, Shōto,” you say, and that’s all it takes.

His lips meet yours, unexpectedly gentle, and you can’t help but sigh. Your lids flutter closed and you’re ascending, heart beating out of your chest as you’re convinced heaven is real. Tangling your fingers into his hair, he groans into you and his hands leave your waist for the first time in a long time. You try to keep track of them, but they’re all over you, leaving trails of fire in their wake. No inch of your skin goes untouched, he makes sure of that.

Oh, god. This can’t be real. You can’t help but think of what your classmates would say if they knew you were here tonight. But, on the other hand, what they don’t know can’t hurt them, right? 

It’s like he’s a different person, his usual detached persona gone in favor of a gentle, kind boy. He’s careful with you, hands never straying too far downwards as if he’s afraid you’ll brave the frigid halls just to get away. You wish you could tell him you wouldn’t leave, that you won’t, but your desire to keep his lips on yours is all-consuming. He’s addicting, and you can’t seem to get enough. His scent, his taste, everything about him is addling your brain, your only thoughts of this moment, right now.

You move so you’re facing him, kneeling between his legs, no longer in need of the warmth he so graciously gave you. His fingers grab at the hem of your shirt, snaking underneath it to feel your bare stomach, lingering on your hips. You whimper softly into him, and you move to take your shirt off.

Lips leave yours. “Stop,” Todoroki says, and your eyes snap open. 

“What’s wrong?” you say, wiping drool off your lips. Did you do something? Did you misread him? Oh, god…

Hands on your shoulders, he sighs. “I don’t want you to think this was my intention.”

You tilt your head at him. “You mean you didn’t… want to kiss me?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. I… I just feel like I’m taking advantage of you. You didn’t come here for this. I was only supposed to keep you from freezing to death and now-”

“Stop it,” you say, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. “I don’t think that about you. I came here for a reason, yeah, but… you are keeping me from freezing. But, if you want to stop, we can.”

“I don’t want to.”

At this moment, you knew you were going to have a lot to explain in the morning. 

[ddejavvu]

mei you straight up rekindled my love for the outsiders with a single fic (the power u hold is immense girlie). domesticity for my poor greaser boys?! ahhh my brain was so fuzzy by the end of the fic. magnificent as always <3

so if you'd like requests i'm more than happy to oblige. darry was my first dilf crush (i mean he has several children in his care and i'd like to duck him. counted as a dilf in my 13 year old brain and counts as a dilf in my brain still lmao) so how about darry n reader mom and dadding all over the place; maybe they all go to the drive thru together, reader n darry are emergency contacts at the hospital and mischief is afoot, they get some time away from their several greaser children... or whatever scenario your beautiful brain cooks up. i hope this is a little inspiring and i send you tons of good vibes (and a big phat kiss. MWAH!!).

send me requests for the outsiders!

i'm so flattered <33 darry's been my fave for a loooong time i love that big beefy man omg <3

--

You'd think that six years old is the last age you'd ever have to worry about restaurant etiquette with, but apparently 18-year-olds can't handle themselves either.

"Two-Bit, you keep your feet to yourself under the table and stop kicking Ponyboy." You hiss, keeping your voice low so that none of the other patrons can hear you. There's not many times you'd ever try traipsing through a fancy restaurant with the entire gang, but Darry's managed to get himself promoted to worksite supervisor, which means less back-breaking labor and more cushy pay. It's a special occasion, and everyone's greased their hair as neatly as possible.

"He stole the piece of bread I wanted." Two-Bit insists, "He grabbed the biggest piece with the softest insides and he left me the heel!"

"We have two baskets," Darry passes the secondary bread basket over to Two, eyes glinting warningly, "Now listen to Y/N and quit kickin' my brother."

Ponyboy shares a grateful glance at Darry, but nothing more so as not to hurt his teenage ego. You're sure his shins are smarting, but he'd never admit it.

"That's the good stuff." Steve dips his hand into the basket as well, and together both boys clear it out, save for the heels. You watch Soda realize that he's been cheated, and before he can wrap his hand around the heel of the bread and chuck it across the table at Steve you catch his arm, staring dead into his eyes.

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis, if you throw food at this table, I'll give you a buzzcut."

His eyes widen, your threat proving effective. He runs a cautious hand over his styled hair as he sinks back into his seat, staring at his empty bread plate.

You sigh as you scoop your bread onto his plate, taking the heel for yourself and lamenting the loss of the soft innards.

"Y'all are too old for this shit." Dallas remarks, a look of distaste on his face, but no one points out that he's having a cigarette for an appetized instead of bread and butter.

"Pass me the menu, Steve?" Johnny asks, eyeing the large folded plastic tucked beneath Steve's plate. You see the moment he gets the idea, his eyes glinting mischievously as he goes to whip the menu out from beneath the plate without moving it.

"Don't- do not do that!" You break your own rules, landing a sharp kick against Steve's calf so that he stops in his tracks, "I swear you boys act like toddlers. Steve, pick up the plate and then hand Johnny the menu."

"Couldn't've made it anyways," Ponyboy mumbles, and any sympathy you'd had for the youngest teen vanishes when he challenges Steve.

"Oh yes I could'a," Steve argues, obeying your directions only to avoid another kick to the shin, "You don't know what you're talkin' about, kid, I could whip a tablecloth off a table without a fork movin' outta place."

"I've seen him do it," Soda nods, ever-loyal to his best friend, "Well- one glass broke, but it wasn't that bad."

"Wasn't my fault," Steve agrees, "It was the wind."

"Your table's in your basement, stupid," Dallas scoffs, "There ain't no wind in there."

"There's a window," Steve remarks hotly, perhaps pushing boundaries too much considering it's Dallas he's smarting off to, but Darry cuts in and effectively silences everyone.

"I'm gonna make every single one'uh you hoodlums walk home if you don't start behaving." Darry's tone keeps everyone silent, even Dally who watches Darry with a mixture of interest and amusement.

"Feet off your chairs," There's a rustle of movement as most boys adjust, "Elbows off the table," Another commotion, "And voices low. There's other people here, and if one of y'all launches a piece of bread across the room we're gonna get kicked out. Sit down, shut up, and figure out what you're eating."

Six heads duck shamefully towards their menus, and a blissful silence reigns over the table for the first time all night. You turn towards Darry with a shit-eating grin etched into your features, one that makes his cheeks warm as he tries occupying himself with his own menu.

You prop the plastic sheet up on the table between you, and it's large enough to cover your faces. You duck towards Darry and press a sweet kiss to his rosy cheek, "That was pretty intense, Superman. I liked it. Whipped 'em right into shape."

"Damn hooligans." Darry grumbles, letting his nose brush against yours.

"Scoundrels," You snicker, leaning in to press another kiss to his face, this time catching his lips.

"Whippersnappers." He murmurs against your mouth, the two of you shaking with laughter behind your menus.

"Unwilling audience members." Two-Bit snags the edge of your menu, tearing it away from you to reveal you and Darry with your noses pressed together, "Talk about poor table manners- I'm pretty sure you're supposed to save the boning for dessert."

"Y'all are gross," Soda's nose scrunches in faux-distaste, but you know he's thrilled that his brother has found you.

"You'd better hurry up and figure out what you want, then." You smirk teasingly at the group, "The sooner we order the sooner we eat, and the sooner we eat the sooner we can get out of here and get a room."

"Hurry up, Johnny," Dallas elbows the boy theatrically in the side, a sharp laugh coming from Johnny as Dallas smirks at the two of you, "If we wait any longer they might start making out behind the bread basket."

[2-dsimp]

What if... Harumu's darling was faceblind and had low-social tolerance, basically recognizing people by voice and habits?

Her husband IS a plain, boring, square in comparison to the homewrecker, and she adores him for it because he does it intentionally for her comfort. She finds him a comforting rock and bastion of consistency. She holds 0 attraction for Harumu because he's loud, very in your face, a Diva, and never wears the same outfit twice in the darling's presence. She gets very stressed about it, having gotten into trouble her last job when she failed to recognize her Boss when came in out of his usual outfit once.

Darling can't understand Homewrecker's overtures, she's too busy trying to figure out where they lost their boss and praying to god that no one noticed because the last time they failed to recognize him off the bat (he changed into a sexier outfit because she looks at his clothes more and he thought he could seduce her with a hot body) Harumu threw The World's Biggest Diva Fit.

This scenario is intriguing! But To be frank, if darling had face blindness and a low social tolerance.

Their application wouldn’t even have made it through the preliminaries against their competitors. Harumu is the face of an international beauty brand after all. So qualifications to handle all the attention. Which comes with being his caretaker will have to be met without exception.

To even catch Harumu’s attention you’d have to be exceptional in your own right. Since he believes that they deserve only the best of the best. So it’s not like he’d settle for just any manager. It’s why the beauty influencer initially was against having one in the first place. Since Harumu knows how high maintenance he is and is very critical about every single need being taken cared of.

The Shapeshifter isn’t loud and in your face. They’re a diva but a classy one at that.

Harumu never had the need to raise his tone (except for a few times throughout his spoiled life). Especially when he’s so used to people rushing to his beck and call. With just a simple expression of displeasure and a wave of their manicured fingers which means ‘come hither’.

Though on another note Harumu doesn’t wear anything twice unless they really love the design.

But if for whatever reason darling didn’t show any reaction to his outfit.

At first the yandere shapeshifter! Would be smug thinking that his beauty had finally stolen the breath from their lungs. And would even go as far as to prepare and call for the paramedics. just in case you fainted from the sheer exposure to his flawless features.

But slowly after getting out of his delusional headspace. And sees that you just didn’t have any opinion whatsoever. The yandere shapeshifter! would literally freak out from the notion that his handsome/pretty features didn’t have an affect.

Harumu would be so in shock that he’d feel faint and have a mental freak out. Questioning if he’s having a nightmare or if he’s just hallucinating. While also being heavily concerned about if you were even human to begin with. And was just an android in disguise. (Maybe you lied on your resume how else are you so capable in managing him?).

After having to call the medical staff for your model who fainted from pure distress. You’d later have Harumu wearing a tight lipped smile in their female form. (So that they don’t accidentally break your phone with their male counterparts strength) grabbing your phone to manually type in yet another requirement into your packed schedule.

The task was “practice every morning, noon, and night on giving words of affirmation to me, Darling~♥︎" Into your daily regime. Making it the top priority for you to fulfill as his manager.

After making countless desperate rationalizations. Harumu finally returned to her usual confident self and would simply chalk it up to you just being shy (for her own sanity) Becoming determined to get you outta that meek shell of yours so you can work on (adoring her like you’re supposed to)

[citruswriter]

I FUCKING LOVE THE ANIMALISTIC READER SHIT ANSUSIJASH

Them Finding Out You Have a Partner

Listen with me! ♫♪.ılılıll|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|̲̅̅=̲̅̅|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|llılılı.♫♪

A/N: I'M SORRY HAPPY YOU LOVE MY CRINGY BF SCENARIOS! NAJDKDKDJSJDJ! Get ready for angst ya'll. Reader is in a relationship but it's kind of rocky. Bc obviously we're not gonna stay.

Previous Part

"I don't want you hanging out with them anymore!" Your partner shouted at you. The two of you had been arguing for the past twenty minutes. Why? Well your partner found out about your group chat with the turtles, April, and some others. It wasn't exactly a secret, you never hid the group chat. You saw no need. But apparently your partner had a problem with you texting a bunch of mutant turtles. "But why?!" You yelled back, animal appendages displaying your anger. Your partner growled and stepped forward, causing you to step back. "I don't want you talking to those freaks!" Your partner spat out and your eyes widened. "Excuse the fuck outta me? What's next? You gonna call me a freak too?" You growled back and your partner huffed. "You know damn well that it's not the same damn thing. You're still mostly human. They're not." Your partner said, trying to reason with you. You let out a bitter laugh and scoffed. "Whatever. I love you but I'm headed out. I can't hear another word of this bullshit". You spat out, storming out of the apartment and going out onto the streets of New York. You knew that your partner would attempt to follow you home, so you took a different path and instead headed for the lair. Fuck this shit man.

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Leonardo x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a wolf neko, Reader has golden eyes, Reader has a boyfriend.

Leo had never seen you so pissed. You walked in with a silence he had never seen from you, ears pinned and tail bristling. A growl was resounding from your throat, a primal noise he had never heard from you before. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't a little bit intimidated. Mikey sprang up to hug you, obviously not picking up on your mood. "Touch me, Michaelangelo, and I swear it will be the last thing you do," you spat out, golden eyes moving to give him the deadliest death glare the poor turtle had ever seen. Immediately he put his hands up in surrender. "Woah! What's up with you? You good?" He asked gently. "Got into a fight with my boyfriend," you said bluntly. Leo struggled to keep his exterior neutral and calm when he heard that word. Boyfriend. Of course you were taken. "(Y/N)," Leo called out to you and your head snapped his direction, glaring up at him as if to silently tell him to not waste your time. "Come mediate with me. It'll help calm your nerves". He didn't expect you to follow him, really he didn't, but he was grateful to see you behind him when he finally reached the meditation room.

He sat down and you followed suit, sitting beside him. "So boyfriend huh?" He started gently, trying to sound as casual as possible. "What's it to you?" You snapped, glaring at him only to soften when he gave a 'don't test me' look. Sighing you rubbed your face and looked up at him. "Yeah. Boyfriend. We've been going steady for about a year now. But recently things have been rocky." You murmured and Leo nodded empathetically. "What did he say that got you so worked up?" He asked. You chewed your bottom lip, fangs slightly slipping out. "He said he no longer wanted me to hang out with you guys. Said you guys were freaks." You confessed. Leo swallowed thickly. He was used to being called a freak. This wasn't new to him. But the idea of you cutting him off because of some bigot made him nervous. "Are you going to do it?" He asked, voice slightly shaky. Your ears pricked up as you looked at him, "Absolutely not! If he thinks I'm going to stop hanging around here, he's dead wrong." Leo only hummed in response. You slouched your shoulders, giving an exhausted sigh.

"I don't know Leo. These past few months, it seems like we've been fighting every single week, if not multiple times a week. He keeps asking me to cut off certain friends for one reason or another. Hell he even asked me to block my dad". Leo wanted to hold you as he saw you anxiously run your fingers through your hair, gripping it in a stressed manner. Instead he opted to gently pull your hands from your scalp, holding them and looking at you, "Forgive me if I'm overstepping but that sounds incredibly toxic." He said softly. You hung your head, ears pinned back in sadness. "I know. It's just... so hard to let go sometimes." You muttered. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and Leo felt his heart squeeze. He pulled you closer, hugging you. You melted almost instantly, hugging him back. "Thank you..." You whispered. Leo rubbed circles onto your back, butterflies flitting around in his stomach. "Anything for you, blossom".

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Raphael x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader is a cat neko, Reader has a girlfriend.

"Raphael!" You shouted as soon as you walked in and this man almost thought about running and hiding from you from how pissed you sounded. You beelined it to the gym room and glared at him. "Yes?" Was all he said as he took in your body language. Pupils turned to slits, ears pinned, claws unsheathed, tail lashing. "I'm absolutely enraged right now. So give me something to hit or lift or something before I punch a wall and inevitably break a few bones," you seethed. "Hear you loud and clear kitten," was all he replied with and boy did he put you to work. Two hours later and you were sweaty and laying on the floor, chugging water as fast as you could. You were still mad but at least you were calmer.

"What got you so worked up? Swear you were boutta kill me". He asked gently, drinking his own water. You sighed softly and looked at him, "Got into a fight with my girlfriend". You explained and Raph almost choked on his water. Girlfriend? Course a pretty thing like you was taken. He felt his heart break but you kept talking. "I mean seriously. I've dated all kinds of people of all genders but she's just a work of fucking art." You spat out, standing up on your wobbly legs to pace. "She saw the group chat and just demanded that I stop hanging out with you guys because, and I quote, 'because they're freaks'. Which is utter bullshit. If anybody's the fucking freak it's her!" You shouted. "So then I asked her if you guys are freaks then what am I? And she said it wasn't the same because I'm still mostly human". You stopped pacing, angry tears streaming down your face and your tail bristled with utter rage. "I don't want to be her stupid fucking exception". You chocked out, hands beginning to shake from the pure unfiltered rage you were filling. Raph knew he needed to calm you down and soon.

"Wanna know my opinion?" He asked and you angled one of your ears his way, silently telling him you were listening. "I think this little girlfriend of yours sounds like shit. If I were you, I'd dump her". You relaxed a little, tail fur now smoothed out and your fists were no longer clenched. You made your way over to the giant turtle and pushed him to sit down before crawling up into his lap. Raph didn't know what to do, not expecting you to pull such a move. "Maybe you're right, Raph..." You murmured, nuzzling into him softly. All the anger must have utterly exhausted you because you could barely move. Raph decided to softly pet you. Soon you were purring against him, halfway dozing off. He couldn't help but stare down at you with adoration. You had come to him so willingly. It was nice to know you found solace in him.

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Donatello x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Read is a moth mutant, Reader has a girlfriend.

You were utterly enraged. Storming into the lair. From the other room, Donnie picked up on your scent. Excitedly, he made his way out to go find you but he was a little too late. Mikey had just begun to ask you what was wrong when you let out a frustrated yell, spun around, and smashed your fist into the wall. "(Y/N)!" Was all Donnie let out. You reared your fist back for another go but luckily the tall turtle stopped you, grabbing your wrist and noticing how you were shaking with pure rage fueled adrenaline. "Come with me," was all he said before dragging you along with him. He picked you up before setting you down on a table in his lab. He got out some medical items to now deal with your busted up knuckles. "Mind telling me what the hell that was out there?" He asked, trying to keep his tone calm. "Got in a fight," you simply said. "With who?" Donnie asks, cleaning your bloody knuckles. "My girlfriend." Donnie's heart jumped into his throat at those words, pausing his actions momentarily before continuing.

"She called you guys freaks..." You muttered and Donnie looked up at you, eyes so soft and caring that your heart couldn't help but melt. You sighed and hung your head. Donnie bandaged up your hand before leaning in to kiss your head. You gave a moth squeak and looked up at him, lip trembling. "I don't like that she called you guys freaks. It hurt my heart. I care about you guys so much, Dee. So much about you." The last sentence came out as a whisper as tears began to roll down your cheeks but he heard you. "Although I appreciate you getting angry on our behalf, please don't punch the wall again." He said gently and you nodded, sniffling softly. "Do you guys fight often?" He asked, prodding softly and you nodded. "Y-Yeah. We do. We didn't at first but it seems like all we do know is either sleep together or fight." You said and Donnie pressed his lips together, noticing how stressed you look.

"That doesn't sound very healthy, (Y/N). Being in a relationship like that could really damage you". He said and more tears spilled over onto your cheeks. He fought the urge to cradle your face. To wipe your tears away and kiss you. To tell you that he had you, that nobody could hurt you now. "Donnie?" Your voice shook him out of his thoughts. He blinked and looked up at you. "Yes dove?" He replied without thinking and he noticed your wings flutter at the nickname. "Thank you for cleaning me up. I appreciate it". You said bashfully. "Of course, (Y/N). Happy to help".

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Michaelangelo x Reader 🧡

Warnings: Reader has white feathered wings, Reader has long elf-like ears, Reader has a boyfriend.

Wings fluffed up in a defensive measure, you briskly walked into the lair, making your way straight to Mikey. "Hey angelcakes!" He called out, not picking up on your mood. "Do me a favor and shut the fuck up," you spat before taking his controller and tossing it aside. He just blinked in surprise as you shoved him arms apart and crawled into his lap, curling into him. Under normal circumstances, he might have pulled away to ask you what was wrong or ask you to please not just snatch his controller away. But as he heard you silently sob into his plastron, all other worries melted away as he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your back. "(Y/N)? You ok?" He questioned softly and you lifted your head to finally look at him. "No. I got into a fight with my boyfriend." You muttered. Mikey swallowed thickly and he swore his chest felt tight at the word 'boyfriend'. "He just makes me so mad, Mikey. H-He called you freaks a-and I just- I just walked out. I care about him but all we do is fight these days and I hate it." You sobbed out. Mikey took to mindlessly rubbing circles on your left hip. "Well you know what they say," he said with a shrug of his shoulders and you looked at him with confusion.

"If your dog starts barking at you, someone else is feeding it better." You tilted your head, looking up at the ceiling in thought. "Now that you mention it. He has been sneaking around a lot..." You muttered before looking back down into his eyes. "Do you really think he could be... doing something?" You questioned, voice trembling. Mikey shrugged. "I don't know, babes." He replied softly. "Just know that whatever happens, I'm here for you. Ok?" You nodded, smiling softly. "You're too sweet to me, Mikey". You cooed and Mikey swore he felt his heart skip a beat at your tone. "Only because you're sweet, sugartits". He quipped back. You rolled your eyes. "Aaaaaaand there it is," you said with a giggle, rolling off of him and getting comfy on the couch beside him.

He wanted to pick you back up. Settle you back down on his lap, keep you curled up and safe against his chest. Keep you close to him. "Sorry for yanking your controller away, by the way," you said, glancing at Mikey's dead character on the screen with drooped ears. "It's ok baby," he reassured. You enveloped yourself in your wings, but only to hide your flustered face from him calling you baby. He's so cute...

Reader falling in love next? Maybe, maybe. Hope ya'll enjoyed this one. 💋

[nowimjustastranger]

How Stcmo!Ford would handle these situations of Stans that didn't even make it outta Jersey:

A Stan digging through garbage cans for food but that would eventually starving to death, looking like a skeletal husk of himself.

A Stan being stalked by a disgruntled Sham Total customer with a pistol and that would eventually be close enough to Stan to pulled out the pistol and shot him in the back of the head.

A Stan in a bar that would end getting into a bar fight that would making him being stabbed and be left bleeding out in the back alley behind the building.

Wow, some of y'all are really dark with your asks. But like, I see the appeal, there's just never enough Stan whump in the fandom. Be warned though, I'm about to hurt/comfort the shit out of these scenarios.

Scavenger Stan

Stan starving to death would be an instance where Ford would step in before it got bad enough to result in Stan's death. Sure, Stan would still be seriously malnourished, but he wouldn't already have one foot in the grave. From there, Ford would diligently work on getting Stan's body used to eating proper portions and nutritious foods again. Once Stan gained some weight back, Ford would bring him to his brother. Though, if Stanford decided to be a self-righteous dickhead, Ford would corner him and show him pictures and footage of what Stan first looked like and how he had been living before Ford found him. That would really put things into perspective for Stanford, prompting a shift in how he viewed his brother.

Stalked Stan

Ford would get there just in time to keep a bullet from ever coming into contact with Stan's body, disarming the attacker and shooting the attacker's thigh to incapacitate them before using the memory gun on them. Again, Ford would take Stan to a different location, making a pit stop at whatever motel Stan is staying in to get his stuff before heading to a much better hotel. Ford would encourage Stan to wash up, giving him a spare change of clothes that he always has on hand for missions like these. While Stan is in the shower, Ford would teleport to the nearest laundromat to wash Stan's clothes and duffel bag. He'd also get food and restock Stan's supplies while he was out, returning to the hotel room to lay all the stuff he bought on Stan's bed. Then he would decide whether to bring Stan to his brother or let him carry on on his own, though the best option is usually the former.

Bar Fight Stan

Now, this scenario is one I could see Stan actually getting hurt in. With the chaos unfolding in the bar, Ford wouldn't be able to reach Stan in time. Ford would fire his gun into the air to make the crowd scatter, making a beeline to Stan now that he wasn't slowed by dodging sloppy attacks or grabbing hands. Ford would help Stan stumble out the back door into the alley so they could use a wormhole to get away from the scene before the police arrived, giving Stan first aid as soon as they emerged in one of Ford's safehouses that are scattered throughout the multiverse. Of course, Ford would go back for Stan's things, putting El Diablo in storage for a month. Then Ford would make sure Stan's wound is fully healed (which wouldn't take as long with alien tech) before bringing him back to his dimension. He'd probably end up delivering Stan to his brother as well.

[drabbles-mc]

All Settled

Rick Flag x F!Reader (past: Rick Flag x June Moone)

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: caught in a storm

Warnings: 18+, language, pining, arguing, light angst

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: They're aruging, they're pining, they're stuck in an airport together. We love to see it! also idk i might write more for these two eventually I'm not sure i just don't know but there are Vibes i might explore later lmao

Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It was perfect, really. Not in the way that it was good, but in the way that it happened and all you could do was laugh, shake your head, and think to yourself, “Of fucking course.”

“This funny to you?” Rick asked, clearly not as amused as you as he dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thud. It wasn’t nearly as loud as the clap of thunder that sounded right before he’d spoken to you, though.

“I mean,” you said with a shrug, also letting your bag slip down off your shoulders, albeit with less drama, “it’s a little funny to me, yeah.”

He shook his head, scuffing the toe of his boot along the tiled floor. You could tell by that and the tightness of his jaw alone that he was fighting the urge to punt his own bag across the floor. “Glad you think so.”

You didn’t let it faze you—Rick and his short fuse weren’t anything new to you at this point. “Yeah, because getting mad about it like you are seems to be so much better.”

He opened his mouth to fire back at you, but he stopped himself when he saw the traces of amusement on your face, that you were just going to take whatever he said to you in that moment and flip it right back onto him. You were one of the few people in the world that he would request time and time again to assist with Task Force X whenever he could, whenever he got enough leash to bring in an extra body on his side of things. But it didn’t make him any less annoyed with you in moments like this.

“Don’t get your panties in a knot, Flag,” you said as you dropped into one of the many empty chairs behind you. Lightning flashed outside, bright light coming through all the airport windows for a split second. “We’ll be outta here first thing in the morning.”

He shook his head, trying to figure out if he wanted to pace and be angry about the situation, or sit down next to you and be angry about it instead. His exhaustion won out just enough to get him to sink down into the chair beside yours.

“Made it through all that shit, and we get stuck on the layover. That’s,” he shook his head, “that’s just…”

“Perfect,” you finished for him with a laugh. You looked over at him, watching as he shook his head and tried not to look like he wanted to laugh right along with you. “Look at the bright side,” you stretched your legs out in front of you, crossing one over the other, “least we didn’t get stuck in this storm with the rest of the team.”

The sigh he puffed out turned into a laugh, shaking his head as he thought about the scenario you’d just put into his head. “Fuckin’ A.”

“Exactly.” You let your head drop back to rest against the top of the seat. You stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds in silence before saying, “We should’ve gotten a hotel room.”

Now it was his turn to laugh at you. “Seriously? We’ve been stuck out,” he gestured vaguely, not wanting to say exactly where even though there weren’t many people around, “you know, and you’re gonna bitch about sleeping in an airport?”

Turning your head to look at him, you raised your eyebrows and replied, “I’m off the clock, Rick—I’d like to sleep in a real bed if at all possible.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “Poor thing,” he mocked.

You laughed, elbowing his arm off the rest that separated your chair from his. Like he had any right to give you grief about complaining at this point. “Fuck you.”

Neither of you said anything for a bit after that. The two of you sat there in your insanely uncomfortable airport chairs, with posture that wasn’t fit at all for the caliber of soldier that the both of you were. Both of you were watching the few people who were stuck at the airport with you. Your flight had been one of the last, but it seemed like a couple others that were scheduled to leave late got pushed off until the morning. No one was dedicated enough to getting a hotel room to go outside in the rain and wind to get a cab. So you watched everyone putting together makeshift beds of their own out of their luggage, draping themselves across chairs. Whatever it took to be at least mildly comfortable.

You’d been still and quiet for so long that Rick thought that you might’ve fallen asleep. Tilting his head, he glanced over at you to find you very much awake. Your eyes were fixed on the small cluster of people who were at the gate across from yours. Among them was a woman with two children, young enough that they thought this was all so fun and exciting.

“Why do you always say yes?” he asked you, watching you as you watched everything around you.

Your face contorted in confusion but you still didn’t turn to face him. “Hm?”

“When I put in the request for you, why do you always say yes?”

You chuckled, finally facing him. “Why do you keep requesting me?”

“’Cause I know you won’t let me get shot.”

You laughed at that, trying not to be too loud as everyone continued to hunker down to go to sleep. “Yea, I guess that’s fair.” You pulled your legs up, feet resting on the edge of your seat as you wrapped your arms so that your hands interlocked and rested on your shins. “Maybe I just like making sure you don’t get shot.”

He smiled, a tiny grin that was briefly illuminated by another strike of lightning. “Can’t like it that much.”

You arched your brow. “Want me to start saying no? Leave the big bad Colonel all on his own?”

He shook his head at you. “Not what I said. I just, I don’t know.” He crossed his arms, letting them rest over his stomach as he looked at the same place you’d just been looking. “You always seemed like you were looking to settle down. This,” he laughed, “this shit ain’t settled.”

You hummed in amusement as you nodded. “It’s not.” You paused. “I’m just, I don’t know, guess I haven’t really found someone to settle with yet. Not gonna give this up with no reason to.” You waited for him to look at you. “Lucky for you, though, huh?”

He nodded, gave you a quick smirk, but he didn’t say anything else in response. You couldn’t tell if there was more that he wanted to say. Either way, it didn’t matter much. He sunk down a little farther in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him. The heel of his boots rested just on the far side of his ridiculously large duffle bag, ensuring that no one would be able to try and snatch it without him noticing. You shook your head at the precaution—it didn’t seem like anyone in present company was going to want any of his fatigues and t-shirts that hadn’t been washed in a week. You let him have that, though. You watched as his chin dropped and tucked towards his chest, eyes falling closed even though he probably wouldn’t actually fall asleep for a long time.

“Think you’re ever going to?” you asked, propping your chin on your knees as you did.

His eyes were still shut as he asked, “Ever gonna what?”

“Settle down?”

His eyes slowly opened, muscles tensing as he processed the two-word question. “I don’t know.”

You were nearly kicking yourself for ruining the moment. Things were fine. You didn’t have to pry, but you did it anyway. You just couldn’t let things lie—it was a habit you always meant to work on and never got around to it.

“Sorry,” you said, your voice tentative in a way that it hardly ever was with anyone, least of all with Rick.

He looked at you, brows meeting in confusion. “For what?”

You knew that answering the question was just going to dig a deeper hole, but you also knew that you weren’t going to be able to ignore the question, either. Stubbornness was one of the traits that you and Rick shared.

You shrugged, wishing that you could pull your legs in farther, make yourself smaller and disappear out of this conversation. “It’s not my business. I know that…it’s just…I know since June you sorta just—”

“Got it,” he cut you off.

You fought the urge to sigh with everything in you. You were annoyed with yourself, but you were annoyed with him too. “Right.”

There was just enough of a shift in your tone to keep him hooked into the conversation, even though it was evident that neither of you wanted to continue it. “What?”

You shook your head. “I’m not doing this with you, Rick.” He went to try and argue but you kept talking before he could. “You don’t wanna talk about it so we’re just, we’re not gonna talk about it. Forget I fuckin’ said anything.” There was a long stretch of silence and before you could use any impulse control you said, “But to be fair, you asked me first.”

He sighed. “We doin’ this right now?”

“What this are you referring to, exactly?” you snapped, voice hushed. The rain beating down and echoing against the roof helped to hide some of your conversation.

“Since when do you wanna talk about that? About all my shit? About, about June?” He hesitated on it but he still managed to get the question out. You couldn’t remember the last time he actually said her name.

You were too caught up in your frustration to empathize about it though. “Are you serious?” You let your feet drop back to the floor, adjusting yourself in your chair so that your entire torso was turned and facing him. “You’re gonna sit there and pretend that I’m the one who never wanted to talk about it?” You scoffed. “Fuck’s sake, Rick. The only reason I found out the two of you broke up in the first place was because Boomer made some asshole comment and you nearly tossed him out of the helicopter. You have never wanted to talk to me about all of that. About anything, really.”

Rick’s fists were clenched at his sides, trying to keep himself from getting too defensive but you weren’t making it easy for him. You never did. He didn’t make it easy for himself, either. “Hey—”

“Actually, now that I think about it,” you cut him off, “you never talk to me about anything outside of work. You know all about me, but I don’t know shit about—”

“That’s not true,” he interjected, voice firm enough to give you pause. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat at that. He wasn’t wrong. But you weren’t completely wrong either. You both knew plenty about each other but there were always a series of walls that Rick kept up, ones that you never got around to building for yourself. Moments like that made it hard not to feel the distance.

“Whatever,” you finally said, not wanting to give in and actually tell him that he was right.

He was still shaking his head at you as he went back to staring at his boots. “Don’t know why you care so much anyway—not like you ever liked her.”

“What? I,” you sputtered as you shook your head, “I had no problem with June. What are you talking about? I barely even knew her.”

It was true. Outside of the events of Midway City, you had next to no contact with June. Rick was pretty much her sole protective detail, hence how the rest of their entire situation played out. You were part of his team that time around too, although despite being his right hand, you were far from the top of his priority list the way that you were all the times after that when you guys handled ops together. But that was the only time you ever really spent around June, and to say that you really spent it with her would’ve been a stretch even under the most forgiving circumstances. But still, you never had a problem with her.

He let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle—either way it was full of attitude. “Right.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Fuck you.”

You angled yourself away from him, turning your body so that you were facing forward again. Part of you wanted to get up and walk to another part of the airport. It would’ve been pointless, though. In just a few more hours the two of you would be sitting next to each other on the plane anyway. There was no escaping him until the trip was over. For a split second, you let yourself indulge in the thought that maybe next time you’d say no when he asked you to tag in.

“Should’ve gotten out when she did,” you mumbled.

You heard the sound of his clothes rustling as he turned to look at you. “What was that?”

You didn’t hesitate, not looking at him but speaking just a little louder, and a whole lot clearer. “I said you should’ve gotten out when she did.” You turned and looked at him, wanting to hit him with the full weight of what you were going to say next. “Maybe then you’d still—”

“Don’t fuckin’ go there,” he said, tone low but brimming with anger.

You rolled your eyes, slumping back against the chair. “Yes, sir.”

There were only about ten seconds between your response and him speaking up again, but those seconds felt like hours to Rick as he tried to force himself to just be honest instead of angry for once. Or at least be honest while he was being angry.

“It was because I wouldn’t give it up,” he finally said, bitterness coating his voice.

Your face scrunched in confusion for a moment before you turned your head to look at him. “What?”

“She left because I wouldn’t give it up. She wanted nothing to do with any of it after everything that happened. I got that. She was just waiting for me to walk away from it too.”

“You got into this shit for her—why didn’t you walk away?”

“Think Waller was just gonna let me walk?”

You shrugged. “Not at first. But she’d get tired of fighting you eventually.” You paused. “She probably would’ve ended your entire military career though.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “no thanks.”

“How long did it take her to realize you weren’t gonna quit?” you asked, figuring that if he was gonna open the door you might as well take a peek inside.

He shook his head. “Longer than it should’ve for someone as smart as she is.”

“Love makes you stupid.”

He let out a laugh, one that was one part sadness, one part humor. “Yeah, it does.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. Not on you.”

“You really love this shit, huh?” you asked, really processing the full weight of what he was telling you. Rick had turned his whole life on its head to save June. He said it himself that she was the only woman he’d ever really cared about. From the way he was acting during everything leading up to what happened at Midway City, you were certain that he would’ve done anything for her. But apparently not.

If he laughed you couldn’t hear it over the rumbles of thunder. “’Bout as much as I hate it.” He looked over at the windows for a moment, able to see the rain pelting down in the dark, then he looked back at you. “Stupid, right?”

You chuckled quietly. “That’s how you know you love it.”

“What’s your excuse, then?” he asked. “Because I know you sure as shit don’t love this.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling in the hopes that it would hide all of the thoughts that were racing through your brain because of his question. “Just an adrenaline junkie now, I guess.” You looked over at him. “Regular military ops just don’t do it for me anymore.”

He was slowly starting to let the tension drop out of his shoulders, his guard slowly coming back down as the both of you began to get back to some sort of common ground. “That’s it, huh?”

It wasn’t the time to get into it. It probably wouldn’t ever be the time to get into it. “That and, like you said, someone’s gotta keep you from getting shot.”

He was shaking his head at you, but at least this time he was almost smiling while he did it. The two of you had always had that going for you—no matter how quickly things tensed up between you, you usually managed to cool back down almost as quickly. Some of that was from all the years and hours you’d spent together, some of it was because in the situations you found yourselves in out in the field, there was no time for grudges so it was best to just let shit go if you could. But for yourself, you also knew that there was an element of not wanting to hang onto that, not with him. It’s why you’d always say yes when he asked you.

For a few seconds it was quieter than it had been. The rain lightened enough to not be echoing as it fell against the roof. The thunder and lightning subsided, and the conversation between you hit a lull. So when Rick cleared his throat, it seemed louder than it really was.

You turned to look at him and found him already staring at you. You raised your eyebrows, silently prompting him to say whatever it was that he was gearing up for. His brows scrunched for a split second, a final hesitation but he was still going to go through with it.

“We’re…?” he trailed off, his tone enough to fill in the rest of the question for him.

You smiled, nodding. “We’re good. Don’t worry,” you shifted in your chair so that you were leaning against his side, your head resting on his shoulder, “I won’t leave you hanging next time you call.”

He chuckled, wanting to shake his head and come back with a snarky remark, but he didn’t have it in him. Tilting his head, he looked over at you and for the first time in a long time, he felt a pull of something deep in his chest. A feeling that he wasn’t sure he could afford to put too much stock in. He let his head drop to rest against yours. “Thanks.”

[fuck-customers]

Customer got pissed cause I refused to take his change.

This was an obligatory "oh wait I have the change" only said after you've already input the amount they hand you first moment. As it stands, I've been working with registers and money for years now, so needless to say I'm quick at getting change to avoid this exact instance. 9/10 times I manage to have their change ready before the dreaded "oh actually" even leaves their stupid mouths. As was the case in this scenario. Guy's purchase was 34.70 or some shit, he hands me a 50. Okay cool. I put it in, and as I'm getting his bills he goes "Actually, I have the 4.70" and proceeds to start pulling out piles, and I mean fucking PILES, of 10/20 cents. I look at that, look at him, and then hold out the change with a "That's okay. Here's your change."

He frowns, in the way they usually do when dipshits realise they can't offload a small fortune in loose coins, and goes: "No, I'll give you the 4.70"

"No, that's okay. I've already put it through. Here you go."

"But I'm tired of carrying all of this around" (then go to a fucking bank, jackass)

"Sorry, once the money enters the register it's against policy to alter it" (a lie. I'm just too lazy and underpaid to count all that)

He then proceeds to scatter what coins he'd managed to scrap out across the counter and basically demand I take it. I'm like lol no get fucked, just take ur change dick (customer service translation: I'm sorry sir, I can't do that. If you'd like, there's a change box in the players area, or you could make another purchase equal to that amount?)

He starts on this tyraid about how I'm just lazy (true) and the whole "kids don't want to work" spiel 🥱 Yeah yeah, whatever guy. Been there, heard this shit a million times. Be original or get outta my line.

At this stage I'm over holding his money out so I just put it down on the counter, and that sets him off even more. Goes off about how I couldn't even 'hand it to him like a decent person' (ironic, coming from the guy who just threw a small bounty on said counter) and snatches his money up with the, also obligatory, "I won't be coming back." Good. Don't. Find a bank and have them deal with your shit, crybaby.

If you're waiting in line at a grocery store/restaurant/anywhere, get your fucking money ready beforehand. If you know you have change you want to get rid of, have it on hand. Don't pull the 'let me fuck up your total and make you look like a moron while your brain short-circuits trying to find the new total' shtick. If you do this, you're garbage.

Posted by admin Rodney

[freakyfrye]

ᝰ. coworkers. friends? lovers ♡

requested: vox x fem! reader, what if the reader got shot during the extermination and vox found them (but I tweaked it), injured prompt: “Steady, steady. That’s it. Just hold on to me. Good girl.”

type: headcanon/scenario

content: friends w/ benefits or situationship (up to interpretation, could go either way), soft/protective vox, blood, wound treating, vulnerable vox

note: this is not edited or proof read, so typos expected

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Heaven has the biggest balls to shorten a once a year of getting fucking hacked down into two giant fucks yous. Screw hell, right?

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Everyone had six months to prepare for this shit show of an excuse to massacre sinners, orchestrated by literal serial killer angels because let’s call them what they are sera, please. But you, of course, are running a little behind to get outta dodge.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Just because a large percentage of its habitants were literally dying by angels does not mean business just stops. Power doesn’t stop for no one, not even this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི If you don't show up and do your job, you’ll never hear the end of it—especially not from Vox. Given he was your boss, that was what he was entitled to do. But that didn’t make it any better knowing that he gets to sit with the vees in one of their fancy penthouses while this all goes down and you're stuck finishing up some quotas.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Even as you complete your duties, Vox is texting you nonstop. It’s a little all over the place for someone like him: calling you good girl for your job well done, telling you to get to cover real soon, that you better not stop texting him, text him back when you get somewhere safe, yada yada yada.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Serves you right for fucking him one time…six times. Alright, you lost count. It was a complete accident—the first time. You were having a really stressful day. The day was starting to blur together after hearing some bad news. Before you knew it, your sucking faces with your boss after something he said made you frustrated, but in the best way. Now he thinks he’s entitled to your time even outside of work.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི After that, you’ve kinda been doing it whenever stress overwhelmed you, which was often. Sometimes you’re convinced in thinking Vox piles a crap load of work onto you just to have you ride him silly during your break in his office.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You scoff at his behavior with an eye roll, darting into an alleyway, a shortcut to your hiding space before shooting him a curt text back. Mainly outta respect for yourself and your sanity, you try to keep it as close to professional as possible but it was hard when he pulls dumb crap like this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Pausing briefly in the shadows, you spot an angel causing havoc in the area before flying away. You quickly slip across the street, through the main entrance of the building and up to one apartment you call your own. Only when you lock all possible locks and shut your blinds, do you feel relaxed enough to lean back against the kitchen window seat to text Vox, letting him know you're safe.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Never did you expect to find your window to shatter seconds later, an angel spear stabbed into your thigh. The pain was instantaneous, you want to cry out but you slam your hand over your mouth to muffle your screams as your eyes darts out the window, petrified to see that angel from earlier fighting someone right outside.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You drop to the floor, losing your phone in the process as you crawl yourself away from the window, whimpering pathetically to the bathroom to lock yourself inside and hide there until the extermination ends. There was so much blood already lost, you could feel yourself grow weaker as you lean against the tube. Sleep consumed you a few minutes in.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི While unconscious, your phone was pinging back to back, texts from a very unhappy Vox. He told you to not stop texting him. To text him when you’re safe—he knows damn sure he did, for fuck, he was staring right at his words but for whatever fucking reason you didn’t listen. Why were you like this?

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི He couldn’t even pay attention to Alastor getting his ass handed to him, a historical moment, for his eyes were glued to his phone, waiting for those three dots to appear. When it didn’t show, he left the area for the security room, ignoring the Vees' questions.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Vox zaps his phone to a bigger screen, patience wearing thin when you still haven’t replied back during his short walk over. It was strumming the line of worry, something he hasn’t felt since he was alive, and it makes him sick. His stomach turns further when he can’t find you on any of the many cameras he has through the city.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You're forcing his hand as he opens a spyware app. He normally doesn’t have to do this, never had a reason until now. But you weren’t responding, and never had he known you not to respond to him. May it be one worded or a full rant reply, you always did.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Your location says home. That’s a little relief shaved off the top of his worries. You're safe; the part of town you live barely gets touched during any extermination. But there was always a chance, giving him enough cause to zap himself into your living room via tv.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Thank God he did show up when he did. He could see the shattered window inside your kitchen from his position, phone abandoned on the floor. Eyes noticing a trail of blood leading off into a direction. He follows it to the bathroom, where he bangs rapidly, calling out your name. Like the text messages, he receives no response.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི He knocks the hinges off your flimsy door with one shoulder slam, eyes widen in shock at seeing you there unconscious, spar still in your thigh. Cursing, he reaches down and checks your pulse, exhaling sharply when there is one and slaps your face to wake you up.

“Hey… wake up… open your eyes for me.” Vox slaps a little harder after the light taps weren’t working, pleased to see your (color) eyes peel open to lock with his, “Yeah. Keep them open for me, sweetheart.”

He shifts his weight to glance down at your thigh, contemplating his next move. He wasn’t a fucking doctor, he didn’t know how to tend to injuries this size—especially one from an angel—but it was either help you or let you bleed out and he couldn’t bring himself to do the latter. Not when he went out of his way to check on you. It’ll be a waste of his time.

He leans down further, grabbing your arm to wrap around his shoulders, “Steady, Steady.” he whispers, reaching under your legs to pick you up, another arm supporting your lower back. He nods when you fist his shirt, “That’s it. Just hold on to me.” he murmurs against your head when it rolls heavily to rest on his chest, “Good girl.”

Hoisting you both up so he’s standing at full height, he maneuvers his way around your place with trial and error until he finds your bedroom. Placing you gently on the bed, he rushes back to the bathroom, yanking open drawers and cabinets until he finds an unused first aid kit. He peels it open as he returns back to your room, swiping the half empty bottle of alcohol on your kitchen table on the way.

Your eyes practically pop out your head when he grabs the spear, Vox looking at with a gentle expectant expression, “Might wanna bite on to something?” is all he says before slowly pulling the spar out.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི The pain was worse than when it got forced in your thigh that you were shaking your head with pleas for him to stop, lip quivering as you held his wrist tightly. It hurt so much you weren’t thinking straight, couldn’t wrap your head around why he was doing this.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི You were pissing him off, with your stupid tears and pleading for him to stop and then actually grabbing onto him to stop him. Can’t you see he was trying to help you? That he cares enough to want to make you feel better? That it will get better if you just stop all your wailing.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི With a growl he slams his mouth into yours, eating up all the screams you release once he yanks out the spar in one pull. He moves his mouth against yours, only to distract you, only until your screams turn to whimpers. Then he’s pulling away, undoing his belt to wrap it around your thigh to stop the bleeding.

The alcohol doesn’t hurt as much when he pours it over your wound. By then you are already all cried out, reduced to sniffling as he wraps you in gauze and bandages. “I need a hospital..” you mutter, voice hoarse from the screaming. “I don’t want to die again.”

“Fuck. Fuck.” Vox curses, finishing his wrapping before moving to lie beside you, wrapping a protective arm around you, face serious as he says, “You don’t get one. Not right now, not until the extermination is over. I’m all you got. Okay?” his gaze softens a large degree at the worried expression on your face. He reaches up, guiding you to look at him by your chin, “Hey… you got me… I won’t let you die.” he says, pecking you on your lips as if to seal the deal.

rules, masterlist

[supercorpkid]

Right To Be Hellish

Supergirl. Kara Danvers x Reader. Alex Danvers.

Word Count: 3615.

Notes: the jealousy fic we deserve. thanks @supercorpenthusiastic for this idea :)

"I can't believe you're actually going on a date with your ex." Kara huffs, avoiding eye contact, clearly signaling her frustration.

"Yeah, pretty crazy of me going out with someone that is into me."

"Oh please. You guys broke up for a reason."

"The reason being he moved out from National City for work, and now he is back." Kara gives an audible scoff, which you catch even from the bathroom. You come back into her view, to find her sitting on your bed, arms crossed, biting the inside of her mouth, clearly displeased with the situation. "What? Just say it."

"It's risky."

"And I told you, you got nothing to worry about. We're going to have dinner at that new fancy restaurant that just opened. So there'll be plenty of eye witnesses."

"Don't use words like that, it doesn't help."

"Kara, he is not a criminal. He's an architect who likes to design self-sustaining buildings." You resume getting ready, even though she continues to look unpleasant with your choice. "It's pretty honorable, honestly. I thought you'd like him. He is like a hero in his area."

"Pfff. I'd like to see him save people from a burning building." She mumbles, and you ignore her because you're too busy for whatever it is that is happening with her.

"Worst case scenario, I get a nice meal out of him." You joke from inside of the bathroom while you change.

"I'll pay for your food if that's the reason! I'll fly to Italy right now to get your favorite, if you call this off." 

You're tempted — you do love pasta more than anything else, and eating on your coffee table with Kara, watching an old movie sounds like a perfect plan. But you also know you can't keep hiding yourself from the world. You need to put yourself out there again and find someone that won't leave you to sleep alone, like your best friend does.

"Hey, look, I appreciate you looking out for me. But I promise I'll text you if anything goes wrong and you can send all the Superfriends there."

She doesn't answer, so you come back into view. Kara's mouth drops when she takes a look at you. You open your arms with a huge smile.

"How do I look?"

She blinks, unable to string together a sentence. Then, she adjusts her glasses on her face and smiles. "Good. Great. You look — nice." You raise your eyebrows at her waiting for more, because there's something on her expression that just tells you there's more. "Very nice."

You can't help the disappointment, you were expecting something else.  "Cool. Think I'll get more than a nice meal outta this?"

Kara stands up. "That's my cue. Text me if you want out." 

The dinner is going smoothly. With no awkward silences when you both have so much catching up to do. You are aware he is your ex, but this dinner feels more like reconnecting with an old friend.

It's all nice and easy, until you spot a familiar blonde coming your way, and your eyes widen at her. This can't be good.

"Oh! You're eating here?" Kara grins broadly, thumbs pointing at herself. "I'm eating here!"

You just stare at her, utterly baffled by her sudden appearance. She makes her way to sit next to you, and you whisper close to her face. "Kara, I appreciate the rescue, but like I've told you before, it's fine."

She has an unhinged look on her face when she says, "That's what friends are for."

You refrain from saying that no, this is not what friends are for. In fact, none of your other friends even thought about crashing your date. And you gulp, while she stares down your ex, in a way that is making everyone uncomfortable.

"Um, Ted, this is my best friend Kara. And Kara, you remember I told you about Ted, right?"

"Oh, hey, it's nice to meet you." He tries to shake her hand from across the table, but Kara doesn't touch him.

"So Ned! Y/N told me you dumped her when you moved out of National City for work."

You mumble, "Pretty sure I didn't use those words."

"And now, look at you!" She points accusingly, a scowl on her face. Not even trying to fake how she truly feels about him. "Here! Again! Wanting to undo your mistakes."

"Well, it's – um – it's Ted." He tries, while Kara stares him down like she might just use her heat vision on him. Ted goes on about buildings and whatnot, while you glance at Kara from side eyes, face hot in embarrassment and something else. You breathe deep trying to control yourself. 

She looks amazing. Tough and confident and nothing like the sweet Kara Danvers you know. When she crosses her arms, flexes really, your mouth runs dry. She is puffing her chest out with a bright red blush on her face. A vision of perfection. Wait, what the hell. Stop having obscene thoughts about your best friend and her muscles, weirdo!

Ted looks at you, and you finally focus back on the conversation happening in front of you. "Didn't we agree to focus on work for a while?"

"We did. Yeah." You shoot Kara a look, pleading her to shut the fuck up. "And, um, talking about work, I thought you said you needed to work tonight, Kara."

You try, and Kara looks at you with furrowed brows. You raise your own at her wishing she would just fucking get the silent message you're trying to say.

"Oh, yeah! I had this article to finish." She agrees, touching her glasses, getting back into her old Kara Danvers quickly while talking to you.

"Great! Then –"

"But it's done now!" Kara smiles right after and you swear to God, you might kill her. "So, Ed, did you get fired? Is that why you're back to National City? Did one of your buildings come crashing?"

"OK! You know what," You stand up abruptly. "I need to freshen up. Kara, care to join me?"

"Oh, I'll keep Fred company." She says that in such a threatening manner, you're the one getting shivers down your spine.

"It's Ted." He tries yet again.

"No, I – I need you. Please." You insist and she can tell how serious you are, by the way you're staring her down. 

"Okie dokie." 

You make your way to the bathroom, with Kara following you close-by. It's only when the door is closed that you acknowledge her. She looks so hot with this black top, hair back, and clenched-up jaw. It takes everything inside you not to slam her against the door and —

Stop. Don't go there. Why the hell are you going there?

You've known Kara for years, and you never once — Well, that's not true, your first thought when you met her was how amazing she looked, and how much you wanted to kiss her. But then you guys started being friends, and you stopped this nonsense — except that one time she told you she was Supergirl and you imagined kissing her senseless while flying around National City. But other than that — wait, there was also that very explicit dream…

Ok, fine. It seems like friendship is not the only thing you want from her. You breathe out trying to focus on what's happening now and not on what you wish could happen, "What the hell was that? You were acting like a crazy person!"

"What? Did you see the way he was looking at you? It's my right to be hellish!"

You tilt your head sideways, thinking about it. "Why is it your right to act insane?"

"You don't get it, you're too sexy and beautiful, people just stare at you like they want to —" Her face gets red, this time from embarrassment. "I'm just doing what best friends do."

"Well, you're being a bad friend!" Her mouth drops, shocked by what you just said. "I told you I'd text you if I needed help!"

"But you texted!" Kara says and you roll your eyes. You can't believe she is now lying about this. She can sense you're not believing her, so she grabs her phone in her pocket. "See," she turns it to you, "you texted!"

You glance at the screen to said text, "Kara, that's clearly a pocket text."

"Well, I didn't know that! I thought that you were being kidnapped and was trying to let me know where he was taking you."

Oh. You blink at her, realizing your mistake. That actually makes sense.

"So I dropped everything and came here to save you, only for you to call me a bad friend."

Shit. 

You curse yourself. "I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry –"

"No, you said what you said. I'll leave you alone with hero architect Brad, have fun." She turns around, and before you open your mouth to stop her, she turns back at you. "Oh! And I hope you don't get kidnapped for real this time, 'cause I'm not coming back to save you."

You know she is lying, she would obviously come back to save you, but the fact she felt the need to lie about it only shows how upset she is about this whole thing.

"Kara, wait. Kara!" But she leaves without a glance back. You breathe deep, trying to decide if you should run after her or just go back to your date. You obviously want to make things right with her, but there's so much to think about. Why is it her right to be hellish when people are looking at you as if they want you?

The rest of the dinner is fine. But as soon as you're out of the restaurant, you're texting Kara trying to make amends.

It's been a couple of days and still radio silence from her end. You can't believe Kara is taking this so far, and you also don't know what else to say so she can at least go back to talking to you. 

You hear the doorbell and run to the door in a hurry, hoping that Kara has come to her senses. Your face drops when you open the door. "Oh, hey Alex."

"Don't look so disappointed to see me!"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm not." You open the rest of the door and make your way inside. "I just thought you were someone else."

"And who was that, exactly?" Alex closes the front door behind her, following you into the kitchen.

"Your sister, actually." You breathe out and Alex agrees with her head. "We had a little bit of a disagreement after I went on a date with my ex."

"Oh, right! Chad! I heard all about him and his 'buttface'." You furrow your eyebrows at her. and she explains right after, "Kara is too nice to call him an asshole."

"But apparently not nice enough to call him by his real name. He's also not an asshole." You grab two beers in the fridge and hand Alex one. You know her well enough to know she needs one to function. "How mad is she right now?"

"She's just butthurt 'cause you said she was being a bad friend. Just apologize."

"I have! Many times! I've been texting her for days and I tried calling her. She just won't talk to me."

"Oh. I might have misread the situation." 

"Well, try again?" You urge her. Alex chugs her beer then shrugs her arms as an answer. "Alex, come on! You know Kara better than anyone. I admit I was an asshole when I said she was a bad friend, but she has completely shut me off. She didn't even give me the chance to apologize properly. And then proceeded to tell you bad things about Ted when he was nothing but nice the whole time."

"Ok, fine. If I tell you what I think it is, will you drop it for now and order us some food?" 

You look at her in utter confusion. "You showed up here uninvited. You buy us food. I'm supplying the beer."

"Fine." Alex makes her way to your fridge and grabs another beer. Yeah, that one was on you. "I think she might be feeling a bit jealous."

"Because I have someone and she doesn't?"

"Aaaand I need tequila for this." Alex mumbles under her breath and you get up from the couch, getting closer. She is pouring herself a shot of tequila, and you're seconds away from calling her out on it, but she downs the shot and starts talking, "More like she is jealous you have someone that isn't her."

"I don't get it."

"And I'm not drunk enough." Alex says going back to her beer. 

"God, Alex, stop drinking!" You pull the beer out of her hands and she huffs, upset.

"You and Kara make me an alcoholic ok!" She stares at you with full intent. "It's always, 'oh but Y/N is going out with that guy when she could go out with me. Oh my God, why is Kara so obsessed with me?' Yadda yadda yadda. It's exhausting, you know? Just fucking kiss already!"

"Kiss?" You look down at the floor while thinking about it. "Alex, is Kara in love with me?"

"Has been for two years, thank God you finally noticed."

"Actually, you just told me." You joke and she rolls her eyes. You sit on the closest chair, and look at her. "I wasn't sure she felt like this. I didn't wanna mess up the friendship."

Alex sits next to you, puts a hand on your shoulder. "What are your plans now? Are you going to break up with Ted, or just pretend you don't know how Kara feels?"

"I don't know." And you don't. You don't know. Which is ridiculous, how can you not know something so big and life-changing? "I need tequila for this."

"Now we're talking!"

It's a whole bottle of tequila, all the beers that were in your fridge, and the warm Vodka bottle Alex found under the sink later, when you realize that you can't barely stand up and Alex is slow-dancing with a pillow to no music. And right on time, Supergirl flies in through the window.

"Kara!" You stand up from your place on the floor in shock. Alex, being caught off guard, sends the pillow flying right at your face. Two seconds before your butt hits the floor, Kara picks you up. "What are you doing here?"

"You called! You pressed the emergency button on the watch."

You furrow your brows, not remembering that. You look at Alex wondering what she's done. "Don't look at me. I didn't do it."

Two minutes prior:

"We should get Kara here!"

"Yeaaaah! Call her! Call her! Call her!"

"Wait wait, I have a better idea." Then you press the emergency button.

"And it seems that you two are too drunk to even remember that." Kara rolls her eyes, annoyed. She sits you on the couch, and goes around the apartment organizing what she can see. She pulls Alex's glass out of her hands with a mad face. "You had enough. I can't believe you were trying to drink Y/N under a table."

"Hey! She was drinking herself!"

Two hours prior:

"You know what, if you don't know who to pick it's probably 'cause you're trying to use logic. Love isn't logical. Let's get you drunk so you can feel it, instead!" Alex said pouring more tequila into your shot glass.

"Alright, well, you're the specialist!"

"I'm gonna fly Alex home, and you –" She looks back at you on the couch with sad eyes looking up to her. She breathes out, finding it impossible to be mad at you. "Stay put, I'll be back soon to help you."

"Okay." You give her a dopey smile, so happy she is coming back for you. 

Kara is truly remarkable. The fact that she's coming back to look after you, despite you calling her a bad friend, fills your eyes with tears. How could you have said such a thing? She's the epitome of a best friend, the finest person you've ever known! Sweet, caring, and undeniably beautiful. So beautiful. You can still remember her clenched jaw, biceps showing her strength through the top, lips pressed together. You fight to get air back in your lungs, your entire body so hot you feel you're about to combust.

You think back to all the moments Kara was there for you. All the times she made you laugh hard, and how you never had to ask her to show up for you because she would hear your sad voice over the phone and just materialize at your place the next second. Your love for her knows no bounds. You love her more than anyone you've loved in your life. Ted doesn't even come close to comparing.

It's Kara you want. It's always been Kara. It will always be Kara. You spent so long convincing yourself that who you wanted was unachievable that you missed on the fact she had the exact same feelings towards you. You just wish she would admit them to you.

Kara flies back in through the window, checking on you from farther than you'd like. "You look flushed. Are you feeling ok?"

"Ye—Yeah." You force out of your dry mouth.

She goes to your kitchen for a glass of water.

"How's Alex?"

"Having another beer. Even though I think you both had enough." She rolls her eyes, comes closer with water in hands. She doesn't give you much time to enjoy her closeness, when she goes back to picking up the beer bottles and cleaning around the house. "How are you actually feeling?"

"I, um —" You know she is upset, but girl's gotta get over it right about now. "Can you please look at me?"

"I'm trying to organize the mess you and Alex did. Why — why would you do such a thing, Y/N? You know Alex can't be outdrunk." She goes on, not a glance over to you.

"Kara, look at me." She turns to you, and you can see annoyance written all over her face. "I think I'm gonna marry Ted."

"What!" Kara's face is a mix of emotions. She wears them all clearly ��� anger, resentment, heartbreak, sadness. Her hand shoots to her heart, as if she's checking it's still there. She looks so pale all of a sudden, you're scared you might be giving her a heart attack. Her voice comes out so small, "Really?"

"No. But you should see your face." You smile and she rolls her eyes at you, incapable of keeping her anger in check.

"Oh, so you think this is funny?" Her face contorts in anger, one eye blinking at you. "Well, why don't you get Todd here to help you, huh?"

"Because I don't want Ted. I want you." 

"I thought you said I was a bad friend."

Tears pool under your eyes. "God, Kara. Will you get over that? I said I was wrong! I apologized! I'm sorry!" You get up from the couch, the first few steps are as unsteady as predicted, but you make your way towards her anyways. "I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

She hangs her head low and now you're close enough to touch her. You hold her face softly, making her look at you. "I love you."

"Y/N." Kara whines your name, eyes wet, lips parted. 

"Go on, Kara, tell me you love me too. Now is the time." 

"You're drunk." She says averting her eyes from your piercing gaze. "This is not how I imagined it."

"Well, I'm sorry baby," You hold her face a little stronger so she can look back at your eyes. You only continue when she does,  "but life is chaotic. Relationships are messy and they don't go like our fantasies, and I'm telling you Kara, I love you. And if you love me back, you have to tell me right here, right now." You show around. "In my shitty apartment, while I smell like alcohol and we curse your sister for getting me drunk."

Kara's tears fall, and she swallows deep. She doesn't talk, and your heart is seconds away from breaking and never recovering. You cry too, hiding your face on her chest. "Please, please say you love me."

"I love you." She barely whispers, planting a kiss on the top of your head. You look up to her again, and she cleans your tears with her finger. "I've always loved you, baby. I always will. And I'm sorry I pushed you away, I guess I was just jealous of hero architect Ted." 

You give her a sly smile. "So you do know his name."

"Y/N." She whines your name again and you let out a chuckle at her pretty pouting face.

You kiss the corner of her mouth lovingly, "I love you. I've always wanted you."

She kisses the tip of your nose, your temple, and your cheeks with no rush. There's no need to rush anymore. You just got the love of your life and you know she isn't going anywhere. "You're mine. I had the right to be hellish."

You smile, agreeing. "I'm yours."

Kara's cheeks flush, as she looks at you fondly. "Come on, let's get you sober, baby."

"And then we'll kiss." You say, because you know Kara so well, she won't 'take advantage' of your drunk state. 

Kara smiles, kissing your cheek softly, then she picks you up and starts carrying you to the bathroom. "And then we'll kiss, yeah."

[weebsinstash]

(Thank you for reminding me bc this post was literally starting to get buried in my drafts. I gotta finish some of the posts piling up in here lol, I started this months ago)

Ok ok ok ok ok so like. I'm on my "unwilling red string of fate" shit so fucking hard right now and I thought of a story concept that really hits all my buttons for drama and jealousy and just, tension!

but god wouldn't Velvette GENUINELY be one of the worst people to be stuck with, especially if you're older than her? Like as a woman, being older than her? I've been imagining scenarios for the past several days and this bitch would have me FUMING and I gotta emphasize now that this is like, a sadistic bullying yandere kinda scenario

You've been in Hell for just a few months, managing to get a job, being lucky enough to find a roommate to help with bills, and one day, you finally get your red string of fate when you're out at work. Oh gosh, you work kind of a demeaning job though, whether it be fast food or retail,and you start feeling anxious. Oh gosh, what if your soulmate doesn't like you? You're at work and you're kind of sweaty and... and...

THE Velvette of the Vees, a fucking OVERLORD, is clicking her heels right up to you and giving you a very obvious look up and down that's so BITING that you already want to cry. She just steps uncomfortably close to you and examining your every pore with obvious distaste, "you've GOT to be kidding me. YOU'RE my soulmate?!!"

Like for real, I would immediately shift gears, "ok well I guess we're both disappointed because I was hoping for a man with a REAL job" like, for real I know she's an Overlord and actually very very successful in her career but in this scenario she's several years younger than you and probably shorter too and like. I'm a bottom. That's such a turn off. Like I'm sorry, you're insulting me and calling me old and I'm like not even 10 years older than you? OK you fucking iPad baby, get your sticky fingers and short attention span out of my fucking space

Can you imagine HER AUDACITY to insult you immediately upon meeting you, criticizing your skin, your hair, your body, but she's still rolling her eyes, "ugh, well, come on, I've got better things to do than mill about here" "what?" "Did I stutter or are you hard of hearing at your age? I've got things to do and I'm not leaving you here. Clock out and get your shit or whatever and let's go"

I would just. Immediately tell her fuck you to her face. The second her disrespect comes out, that's it. Ok honey, go back to playing dress up and playing on your phone. I have a truck to help unload--

and she's calling her security goons to MANHANDLE YOU OUTTA THERE. Personal agency, you're almost 30, what's all that? She doesn't give a FUCK. You're her soulmate and she doesn't want other people or YOU getting into any weird shit and she maybe just maybe despite her absolutely nasty attitude is actually quite pleased to meet you and thinks how huffy and upset you're getting is just SO CUTE, like this bitch is PROUDLY suddenly intruding on your personal space to take a selfish with both of your hands in it showing the red string and upload it to her social media, "found my #redstringsoulmate! She's a fixer-uppet but I like a good challenge 💅" like BITCH I'LL KILL YOU? ON YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA PAGE?

She absolutely weaponizes her influence and position of power over you. You disappear? She has a group chat of people who roam the city looking for the latest hot goss and one of them just so happens to be in the bar you ran off to. Does she think you're getting a little too attached to another person? She absolutely destroys their reputation, and I mean that. She will bully you to goddamn tears and be borderline panting in the exhilaration of making you cry, but then she sees you sneaking off to secretly seek comfort in someone else? Velvette overhears one of her models saying that you're way too nice to be stuck with someone like Velvette? She hears someone imply that YOU are too good for HER? She gets them fired and punished in a huge public incident that she makes sure you're there to witness to conpletely destroy your bond with them. Wouldn't it be like soooooo funny and coincidental if that person turned out to have a secret SMS account where they bully and shit on you? Velvette will have Vox plant that shit if she has to

She'll spend time negging you and breaking you down so she can fix you up in her image. She'll have your old clothes BURNED "because they're too fucking ugly and cheap, you'll make me look bad" amd starts to completely control your wardrobe. She insists on having your makeup done when you go out, often applied by her own hand, meaning she's always in your face, looking st you uncomfortably close. You could just be in your room applying your own skincare with you own money and she'll look over your collection with intrigue and say something along the lines "you could've been a mildly popular skincare influencer if you had died before forming all those ugly wrinkles" and you just hit her with "and you'd be mildly fuckable if you were a few years older" WHICH ACTUALLY GETS TO HER BTW, SHE CAN'T STAND IT WHEN YOU POINT OUT HER "FAULTS" OR ANYTHING YOU DON'T LIKE THAT SHE CAN'T CHANGE

I just. Ok. Listen. Listen. IMAGINE HER PIVOTING BECAUSE YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HER AND SHE'S INTO IT??? like one day she's really pushing you and grabs you by your wrist when you try to leave and you SNAP, you're older, you're bigger, and you were working manual labor so you're STRONGER. You just push her back against the nearest wall and have her by the throat, squeezing, towering over her, "don't you EVER put your hands on me, you disrespectful NASTY little girl!!" Tearing into her verbally before you let her go once you realize, hey you're kinda choking her, and she's. Into it. You're completely overpowering her and face to face with her with such fierceness in your eyes that it's awakening something in her. She's breaking out in a sweat and watches you storm off where previously she might have chased after you to continue the argument.

Like honestly... fucking bully bottom yandere Velvette who turns from a sadist into a masochist and starts actually really liking when you dig into her and even causing fights or confrontations so you talk down to her or even hurt her. Bully yandere Velvette who watches you actually stand up for her and one hit KO some creep who was aggressively coming onto her and getting really scary about it while the two of you are out and, oh what's this, she suddenly wants to design a new line of clothing, suddenly more, functional, a little masculine even. She watches you pulverize a guy twice your size and reveal you have like Uber Strength and later that week she's coincidentally having you try on a leather jacket "that was totally supposed to be tried on by another model but that bitch didn't show up today so you'll have to do" and it surprisingly fits you absolutely perfectly and... it's actually.... to your tastes???

You're beating up some fucking guy because even if you hate this bitch, you see a younger smaller woman having a grown ass man come up with the intention of hurting her and it just activates your protector instincts, and at some point you wonder why she's not yelling at you for creating some sort of massive scene in public and she's just. Sitting there holding her phone horizontally, "what? You can keep going. I won't stop you" and biting her lip as you proceed to pulverize the guy

Of course, she IS the co-creator of the love potion, so obviously I can't help but think of a Velvette who isn't so patient that you're 'holding out on her and playing hard to get' and decides she needs to 'get you in the mood'. Or, on the other hand, she knows you're tougher than her and needs to get you kinda doped up anyways and you're just coming to all tied up and completely helpless and at her mercy. I just. See so many potential dynamics. Her being taller than you, you being taller, her being the older one, but, in general I just see her being into artistic types of bondage like shibari and forcing you to model different things for her (even if you hate the style or its forced fem or anything like that) including lingerie and even the really really horny kinds 😳

she's always taking photos that you're never sure whether she's saving for her private collection or if she's taking things to use for blackmail, although she's never posted anything of you In That Way so far. Too jealous to share those kinds of pics, perhaps? (She will threaten you with it though. God do you think she could. Ask Vox to stage some kind of hoax or fake app where it looks like to you certain things of you are leaked and Velvette makes you beg and promise to be good for her to take them down and they're, fake, never even up to begin with. She's punking you.)

I guess as a final note, did any of you ever play, what was it, dressupgamesforgirls when you were growing up? I like the idea of a Reader who, to match Velvette's powers, can pull up an "inventory" or "wardrobe" and you can mix and match and swap out your outfits and makeup with magic. Of course, this will only fuel Velvette's already OVERWHELMING constant urge to dress you up and style you, but even if you try to keep things a secret, she's got such a close eye on you that you'll never keep anything from her for very long. Velvette may be the one who's an actual doll but YOU'RE the one who's gonna wind up played with like a toy