#sometimes we all need a good punch in the face

[musingsunderstarlight]

I didn’t see the post mentioned here so I can’t speak on it, but I have to add that as someone who grew up in the U.S. and is of a background that was not European/white, you are always fighting an uphill battle to be accepted and treated like a friend just like anyone else. And when people say things that are very openly mocking something from your culture in front of you, you’re immediately singled out as being different, and you’re not going to feel very welcomed, and other people will not be wanting to hang out with you as much. And I can attest to the fact that I experienced the same as an American visiting my parents’ home country. It did not feel good when my cousins made jokes about the U.S. to my face. In either scenario, you’re punching down. It’s hard enough making friends and feeling included as it is, so although I don’t believe in going around calling people racist, there’s nothing wrong with reminding each other to just be kind. Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I still believe in “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all” (although there are obviously gray areas like when it comes to serious political discussions).

And just to clarify, I don’t think white people are free game for hateful language either. While forgetting context is often a huge reason for why there appears to be a double standard sometimes, we should still strive to be fair. Like if you think it’s wrong to say Merry Christmas, then you shouldn’t be wishing anyone a happy Diwali/Hanukkah/Eid/etc.

Rejecting cultural relativism is crucial for having effective discussions about sexism and misogyny in different cultures, but this doesn’t mean we need to totally abandon social etiquette either. Ultimately, the voices of women from the countries where they are experiencing oppression will always be more important than those of the women who have never experienced it and choose to speak over them.

“it’s another culture, be respectful” idgaf 💀 if it’s oppressive to women, it’s a problem, i don’t care if it’s ur customs. girls having to cover themselves, not being allowed to go to school, being violated, not being allowed to be heard, literally being all around disrespected but you expect me to just be cool about it because “it’s culture”.

women do not deserve to be treated as lesser than in the name of anything. idc if it’s your religion, i don’t care if it’s tradition, it’s a bunch of bullshit.

[incomplete-leclerc]

　𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗞𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦.　franco colapinto · #43

　　　your boyfriend acts on impulse, leading him to get into fights, and you to worry about his safety.

genres : hurt/comfort ... established relationship ... franco x fem!reader.　 request : anon for franco + stitches on a cheekbone for the 100 event.　word count : 0.6k.　warnings : mild arguing ... mention of injuries (bruises, a cut, stitches) ... mention of franco punching someone ... profanity ... some spanish pentanes (i do not speak spanish but i think they're all translated correctly).　 note : tell me why there were no good pics of franco so i had to find a random gif instead LIKE i swear finding pics takes longer than writing the actual fics sometimes.　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

“Franco? Where the fuck have you been?” you asked disgruntledly as the figure of your boyfriend stepped through the door. Wide eyes, clearly tired, but they softened at the sound of your voice, no matter how irritated your tone was. He dropped his tattered backpack on the floor and pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly and nuzzling his face into your neck. 

“I’m so sorry, hermosa. I didn’t mean to leave you worried,” he whispered. You breathed, closing your eyes and reciprocating the hug. More than twenty-four hours with no word from him had you thinking of the worst possible scenarios to explain what had happened. Although you were still very much mad at him, you let him have the hug that you both needed in the moment. Breathing in his familiar scent, letting it calm your senses just slightly. He was safe, back in your arms. You could finally let your brain take a break from running in circles.

You felt him press a few kisses to your neck, soft and slow, travelling up to your cheek until you pulled away from the hug. 

“Where were you? Why didn’t you call?” you questioned, withdrawing to look at his face. 

“My phone died. And I got in a little fight— but, I’m really okay, Y/n. It was just a crazy night.”

Your face fell. “You’re so reckless all the time, amor. Don’t you ever stop to use your brain once?” 

You knew the words would do little to change anything. Franco was messy. Nothing could magically make him a clean person. Usually it didn’t bother you. It was something you loved about him. But when it got in the way of his safety, it scared you. Staring at the bruises starting to form on his left cheek, and the cut on his cheekbone closed up with a few stitches, you only wished he would listen to you for once. 

“How’d you start a fight this time?” you asked, leading Franco to sit down on the couch. Now that he was back home, it was time for you to take charge and take care of him. And if you were lucky, knock some sense into his brain. He was silent for a moment, thinking of how to phrase what had happened in the mildest way possible.

“Well… we were all drunk, and some guys said some things about you, so I just punched them in the face so they would shut up,” he said simply, trying to stop himself from grinning. You stared at him in shock. 

“Franco—”

“Y/n, you can’t possibly have expected me to just let them talk shit about you? I don’t think I overreacted,” he defended. In his mind, a few bruises to his face was more than worth it to shut up a few assholes talking about his girlfriend. And seeing them run off with much worse injuries than him was satisfying. 

“You didn’t have to fight them over it. Now you’re hurt, and I was left worrying about you for hours. It was unnecessary and completely avoidable,” you pleaded, hoping that he would understand where you were coming from. A few tears building in your eyes stopped Franco from arguing over it more.

“I’m sorry, hermosa,” he whispered, cupping your face and silencing you of any other critical words. You knew it was time to drop the issue. You didn’t want to press him more after he apologized. “I won’t do it again,” he said, noticing the doubt in your eyes. It eased up, and you relaxed slightly. 

“Promise?” 

“Swear on my life,” he assured, sincerity swimming in his pearly eyes. You knew he meant it this time.

taglist: @caffeinboi

[deadghosy]

☆BEING MATTHEO’S CHILDHOOD FRIEND TO LOVER ☆ male version||female version

COMPLETELY protective over you ever since childhood. He literally fought a kid back then because they didn’t like that you were a “girl” playing boy games with them. You were sensitive back then, so of course you cried to mattheo about it. And mattheo did something about it. He punched the kid and stole their teddy bear to give it to you.

He asks you about girl things so he can flirt and treat a girl better. You could be literally reading a romance book, and he wants to learn too. Please teach him or else he’s gonna whine about losing another girl.

“Sooooo what does a girl like for a guy like me to tap that ass…cause I got a girl on my roster..” mattheo says sliding by you in the library table you sat in. You were literally getting to the good part of where the two main characters were gonna kiss. “Why are you asking me these questions riddle…” you say with venom in your tone towards his last name. Mattheo frowned. “Actually my name from you is Matty, Matt, and matty bear. So please—”

“—Please kill yourself and never let your soul rest after.” You say getting up from the library table and walking away. Mattheo’s jaw drop as he followed you offended. He never interrupted your reading time ever.

When your period comes…he’s asking you “what the fuck that is” and “why is it hurting you�� with a frown. He’s thinking he can solve it like any other with a wave of his wand…but it’s more complicated when you explained how your uterus is shredding itself and that’s all you can get out before mattheo started to gag and leave your dorm room like the overdramatic king he is.

He still loves you dearly so he got you tea and some materials you need for the rest of your week.

Sometimes when you two have a sleepover, which is just either of you two sneaking into the girls dorms or the boys. You two gossip like little girls ready to rip someone’s heart out.

Mattheo is 50/50 on you doing makeup on him. But if you really plead and want to do it. He’s gonna let you. He can’t say no to you sadly.

A guy had broken your heart once, so he broke his face in…and broke his dick. Don’t ask.

Couple of girls hated how close you were to Mattheo. He’s a handsome guy, so of course people may spread rumors around. And Mattheo doesn’t really like that, he’s going to the girl and showering her how equal rights have hands.

If you two ever argue, it leads to Mattheo apologizing first. He’s a sucker for you, he doesn’t know why. He just doesn’t want you to be mad at him.

It’s even worst when you talk to anyone else than him.

When you fully ignore him, no texting, no calling, not even talking to you in public and being by you makes him go insane. He’s smoking in the courtyard. Jaw tightened as he eyes you across. He can tell that you know he is staring. He can tell you know indeed when you shift a lot.

The way you feel his burning gaze on you, it made you feel warm. You always loved mattheo, but with him always “going after” girls…you just thought that maybe he wouldn’t love you back.

Jealousy is something mattheo has built into him. He doesn’t know why, so when a ravenclaw student tried to ask you out. He couldn’t stand it. He had to take you away. He couldn’t bare to lose you. He ushered you away from the student, taking you to an empty classroom. He couldn’t handle not being near you, he hated it the most. You are his other part.

He hates it.

“I don’t know who that guy was. But you’re mine. Okay? You’re mine, you always have been even if we both didn’t recognize it. Shit, I know I’m dumb to think to just push my feelings away from you. But I can’t help but love how you are so amazing…” he says slowly at the end. Kissing your head and closing his eyes. You smile slowly. Your heart swell with warmth, taking a deep breath in as you wrapped your arms around him too. You loved him just like how he loves you. He loves you as if you were the made the creation of his favorite food. He loved you like making new potions. He loved you like music to his ears.

He always has been a gentleman before you two dated. He made sure he opened doors for you. He made sure you were comfortable with things. He would even sacrifice his cloaks if you were cold.

He’s like a puppy in love as he just lights up seeing you.

He loves his girl very much. You are the prettiest thing he could ever ask and give for.

[indulgentdaydream]

How do you think Jason Todd sleeps, like sleeping positions

I'm so glad you asked

also i'm treating this as x reader hope you don't mind

actually i'm going to go off on a tangent first

jason is trained to be as silent as possible. not to draw attention to himself when he doesn't need to. he may be built like a fucking unit/ a militarized fridge, but he knows how to be quiet

that's why i don't think that when he has nightmares that he's waking up screaming/flailing around/punching air. Sure, he's panicking, but he's so used to keeping that under wraps that the most he'll wake up with in a small gasp. maybe a jolt.

after he's awake, of course, is when the panicking starts, the heavy breathing, the sitting up, the pacing, the crying, what not.

(i'm speaking from my own experience. I have consistent nightmares. I've been raised to never make a sound as to not bother others. At most I wake up with a deep breath and pushing myself up onto my elbows.)

now that we have THAT out of the way.

jason, by himself, DEFINITELY spreads out wide on whatever surface he's sleeping on

that man is only sleeping when he's on the verge of passing out.

most times, before dating you, he would get back from patrol, shuck his helmet and armour off, then just belly flop onto the nearest, softest surface and be OUT for a minimum of six hours

sometimes it was the floor. safehouses aren't always furnished

poor guy would usually forget to brush his teeth, too

he meets you and within the next few days goes to the dentist for the first time in a while because he wants to look and be good so you'll like him back

baby had 16 cavities :(

ANYWAYS

with you? good luck moving

he's gotta be touching you in some way. whether he's fully wrapped around you, spooning you, head tucked into your hair/the back of your neck when it's cold, trying to both keep you warm and steal some of your warmth

or a simple hand on your stomach/back/arm/thigh when it's too hot to be fully cuddling

he just needs to know you're still there and that you didn't leave him in the middle of the night

he's insecure :( leave him alone

actually do the opposite marry that man and never let him go

occasionally will let you spoon him, but he doesn't necessarily like it because he feels like he's very closed to being suffocated

loves when you lay on his chest though! he can easily push you off if it gets too much, but for some reason it feels more weighted blanket than suffocation by pillow to the face.

let him lay on your chest as well.

maybe not all the way. he'll keep only half of his weight on you when doing so.

he's SUCH a stomach sleeper. only sleeps on his back when in unfamiliar places. easier to get up that way.

y'all have any kind of animal? you're coming home to find him napping with them wherever. bed? check. floor? more than once. if it's a dog, dog bed? you're chiding him because you now how filthy that thing can become.

he's a sleeperrrrr

let him sleep

help him get rid of his eyebags by giving him some warm milk and tucking him in

100% played with your hair one night while falling asleep and now needs to do it every night otherwise he has a hard time

[jksarchives]

YOONGI

❖ mic drop — by @ve1vetyoongi

when underground rapper min yoongi uncovers the dirty secret behind his biggest rival, your brother and hip hop champion kim namjoon’s success, he is determined to take home this year’s mic drop contest trophy no matter who he hurts along the way. you’re behind the camera, content with capturing namjoon’s picture perfect persona from the sidelines but when his hard-faced enemy Gloss, makes you realise you could be more than just the point and shoot, you start to feel your loyalties shifting. | 29k [s, a, f]

❖ because of me — by @taexual

Yoongi never thought dreams held any value, so, after waking up from a nightmare, he was simply annoyed he didn’t get a good night’s sleep. He had no idea his nightmare would come true. | 3.7k [a]

❖ back-burner — by @yoonpobs

sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete? | series [a, s, f]

❖ punch drunk — by @joonbird

Min Yoongi talks with his fists, and the only language he knows is one of anger and pain. He’s damaged, untouchable, a boxing underdog with something to prove. You are the sister of Yoongi’s rival - Jeon Jungkook, the number one elite boxer in your prefecture - and as Yoongi soon discovers, you are also his one and only weakness. | 33k [a, s]

❖ untitled — by @here2bbtstrash

yoongi fingering you til you squirt. | 4.8k [s]

❖ we don’t talk together — by @yoonpobs

it's hard to say it's over. | 2.8k [a]

❖ adrift — by @dumpywrites

He only comes to sleep with you and you accept because your heart allows you to. | ? [a, f, a]

❖ till the end of the line — by @kimvvantae

the world has ended and everything you have ever loved died with it. now, you have nothing but a gunshot, an old van, and most importantly - him. | 11k [a]

❖ the early shift — by @hobidreams

21.4k | [a, f, s]

❖ love language — by @gukslut

Your boyfriend obviously loves you, but his silence has you questioning if he *wants* you. If you could only get past your damn insecurities maybe you could appreciate what you have. | 5.3k [a, f, s]

❖ what do you look like when your lie? — @ugh-yoongi

“i grew a flower that can’t be bloomed in a dream that can’t come true.” | 7.7k [a]

❖ fail-safe — @jiminrings

growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration. | series [a, f]

❖ interlude — by @yoongiofmine

All Yoongi wanted was to use the last few months before enlisting to work on his solo projects, prepare for his tour. When the silence left around him as his members started to go one by one got too loud, he needed to find something else to fill in the void. But Yoongi would never have guessed that it would come in the form of you… Someone he would never expect to fall in love with. | series [a, s, f]

❖ slide — by @back2bluesidex

You would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timeline. | series [a, s]

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Ever Since We Met

Spoiler: Jason dies in the warehouse. ~1.5k words

Jason Todd is six years old and snot nosed when he falls in love with his best friend. Sure, he doesn't exactly know what love is, but he makes sure he's standing next to you when the class lines up so he can hold your hand.

He gets a weird feeling in his stomach (he’s not completely convinced that it’s jealousy, despite what the teacher tries to explain) when you follow other kids around the playground instead of him.

But, he does recognize the excitement he feels when you seek him out to be coloring partners during class instead of the girl sitting next to you.

He loves you as much as a six year old can. Especially when he gets to sleep over at your house and you turn your bed into a fortress of blankets and pillows for you both to sleep in. Those nights are his favorite, and you both drift off to whispered stories and hushed giggles.

Jason Todd is ten years old and getting used to growing pains when he develops a crush on his best friend. At least, he thinks it’s a crush. It feels different than being in love, even if he hasn’t quite grasped the fact that he is in love.

He's more hyper aware of what he does now, how he treats you. Sometimes, the way you smile makes him stumble over his words, and his face go hot. He distracts himself and you from it by asking about homework or that one TV show you that you watch on Saturday mornings.

Jason decides he likes that you’ll press to his side when you’re reading, lost in your own worlds together without a need to fill the silence, crush or not.

He likes that you’ll trade half of your sandwich for his and sneak him doodles and notes during class. (He won’t admit it, but he keeps them in a box under his bed. Sometimes they’re the only reason he doesn’t run away from it all)

He doesn’t bother to mask his obvious preference for you, even when the other kids try to tease him for his crush.

You’re always quick to threaten anyone who tries to put him down, anyway, and he’s more than happy to do the same for you. And when you offer him a high five for scaring off some of the older kids, He decides it doesn’t matter if it’s a crush or not, as long as you stay his best friend.

Jason Todd is twelve when he becomes Robin. It’s hard, well, not being Robin, that’s a magic entirely its own, but being away from you.

He lives in a manor that's bigger than the entire floor of the apartment building he used to live in. He's learned how to do a backflip while throwing a punch in midair. He has more at his fingertips now than he's ever had in the entire first eleven years of his life.

But he misses you. Sometimes, it feels like a phantom limb. Something he's always reaching for, but never quite grasping. It helps that you've gotten a scholarship to his new school, but it's still not enough.

He can't explain it, but he gets greedy for your time. You don't seem to mind the sporadic hangouts, or how often he has to cancel or leave. He kind of wishes you would, just to show that you care as much as he does.

He redoubles his efforts to be a good Robin when you tell him about the dealer that moved into the apartment next to yours. He resolves to be a better friend when you tell him the fancy suits he has to wear to galas look good on him.

His feelings don't change once, even if he hasn't quite found a balance between vigilante and civilian, he knows you're the one thing he can't let go of.

Jason is fifteen years old and about to die when he realizes the person he wants to see most is you. He's always known it, in the back of his mind, but as the blaring red numbers tick lower and lower, he just wishes he could hear your voice one more time.

It's you. Always been. And he's never said it. Never let you know.

His body aches. His leg is twisted the wrong way. His breathing is shallow and raspy. His vision is blurring, and he wants to live. But his mom is still trapped in this warehouse with him, and he's Robin. Robin helps, and that's what he'll do.

Jason drags himself to his mother's side to help, moves despite the gnawing, indescribable pain with every movement.

He's still trying to help, trying to sheild her from harm, as the numbers drop to zero. Zero. Zero. Zero.

What happens next doesn't hurt more than anything else did. And he has enough time to picture the color of your eyes before it all goes to black.

Jason Todd is eighteen when he dons the name Red Hood and becomes Gotham's biggest crime lord in a matter of months.

He stays far away from you, even if your memory has haunted him since the moment he woke up in that cursed pit. (and if he tries to remember, the moment since he first woke up in his own grave)

He's eighteen still, when his empire crumbles and he's left without a path, a purpose. He carries the weight of his years with the league, sags under the strain of not knowing who he is anymore.

He stays far away from you, sticks to the cracks and shadows of Gotham until his name is no longer whispered in fear. Then, and only then, is he brave enough to take off his helmet in front of you.

It's a relief and a terror all at once to finally see the color of your eyes from something other than a memory, and when his heartbeat starts to stutter, he knows he's never really grown out of being in love with you.

You've gotten older. (He shouldn't be surprised, he has too. He just always pictured you growing old together)

Your eyes still light up like he's your favorite person in the room. (He thinks he's allowed to be surprised about that)

But it's when you breathe out that he's home, that he figures out you've been waiting for him. Neither of you seem to know what to say after that, but you don't run for the hills in terror. And for the moment, that's enough.

Jason is twenty-one and passing the first (legally) acquired bottle of alcohol you've ever bought. You laugh about how it still tastes the same, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest at the sound.

He loves you. It sings in his blood, settles on his tongue, he just doesn't know how to say it. He shows it, or at least he tries, but sometimes he's still waiting for this all to be a dream. It should have been impossible, how easily he slipped back into your life.

It was easy. So easy. Everything was easy with you. That's probably why he spills his guts.

He doesn't quite say it the right way, doesn't manage to get the word 'love' out. But he says enough to get his feelings out.

It's not poetic, not grand as you deserve, but somehow he manages to articulate the way butterflies create a hurricane in his stomach when you're around, how his gaze is always drawn to you, how he can't help but lean into the sound of your voice, the warmth of your touch.

Maybe he says a little too much about how he's been head over heels since the day you've met, because you just stare at him.

He's almost ready to run, to blame it all on the one measly shot he's had. This is, until you kiss him. And oh, it's everything he never dared to dream it would be.

It's a little messy, sure, the angle a little strange as you crane across the couch to tangle your fingers in his hair. But it's perfect, it's you, and Jason falls in love all over again.

Jason Todd is twenty-three and still learning how to say I love you. It's not that he loves you any less, if anything, he loves you now more than ever. It's just still something he's getting used to.

Love is something you've given to him so freely, something he's happy to return. But it scares him, sometimes. He worries that if he says it out loud too much, the universe will realize how great of a gift he's been given, and rip it away.

It might be irrational, but he holds the word love close to his heart anyway, unwilling to test fate anymore than he already does by putting on that red helmet.

He whispers it to you in the dead of night instead, says it with touch instead of sound, shows it with soft, shine of his eye. He squeezes your hand when you say it to him, does his best to make it clear he feels the same, even if he can't get the words out.

He'll get it eventually, figure out how to get it off his tongue. He has to.

Especially if he wants to show you the pretty little band of shining, precious metal he has tucked away in a velvet box.

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Nerd!Jeonghan finds himself desperate when one of the jocks takes his cell phone form his hands, the cell phone that is open to your conversation, afraid that the jock will expose your privacy. Jeonghan, the good boy, ended up at the principal's office. — WARNINGS: The jocks are bullies, suggestive content, nudes. — This is a part 3 of Nerd!Jeonghan – Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Ever since you and Jeonghan had sex, things had changed between you two, but in a good way. He was more confident, sending you more messages, and taking the initiative to talk to you. During class, he'd often text you after finishing his work, and you'd share secret glances, especially when the messages were funny.

Today, you were texting him after your P.E. class while he was in the middle of his lesson, eyes glued to his phone. Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed his phone. It was one of the jocks—again.

Jeonghan's heart raced, especially because the phone was open to your contact. He didn’t want the guy to invade your privacy, especially considering the intimate photos you sent him sometimes.

“Why so worried, Jeonghan? Did Y/n send you something I shouldn’t see?” the jock sneered, dodging Jeonghan’s attempts to reclaim his phone.

The more the jock scrolled, the more Jeonghan’s anxiety grew. He began reading out loud one of the compromising messages: "Can't wait to see you tonight, my love, I was thinking about you all day and—"

Before he could finish, Jeonghan’s fist collided with the jock’s face, making him stumble back in shock. The class went silent, everyone’s eyes on them. Jeonghan grabbed his phone from the jock’s loosened grip and bolted out of the classroom into the hallway. The jock, now fuming with anger, chased after him.

When you left the locker room, you noticed a commotion. Jeonghan’s name was on everyone’s lips, and that made you worry. His name wasn't often mentioned, so if it was now, something serious must have happened.

You began searching for him around the school, your anxiety growing with each passing minute. Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Jeonghan: I’m in the principal’s office.

You opened the door to the principal's office and stepped inside. The principal glanced up at you, her expression stern. James and Jeonghan sat in front of her, and to your surprise, Mina, one of your friends, was also there.

"What happened?" you asked, looking at the principal.

Before Jeonghan could speak, the principal explained, "Jeonghan punched James during class. It was quite a disturbance."

You were shocked. "Jeonghan punched someone?"

Mina chimed in, "He punched James because he was reading out loud from Jeonghan’s phone. He was invading his privacy and being a complete jerk about it."

You turned to the principal, concern etched on your face. "You're not giving Jeonghan a suspension, right? This would go on his college record."

The principal sighed. "I was going to, but Mina showed me a video she recorded of the whole incident. It clearly shows James provoking Jeonghan. So, Jeonghan is released."

James stood up, but the principal quickly added, "No, James, you stay. We need to discuss your behavior."

As you all left the office, you turned to Mina, gratitude evident in your eyes. "Thank you so much, Mina."

"No problem," she said with a smile before heading off, leaving you and Jeonghan alone in the now empty hallway.

Without saying a word, you hugged Jeonghan tightly. He hugged you back, his embrace comforting and warm. As you started walking home together, you finally broke the silence.

"I can't believe you punched him," you said, a mix of amusement and disbelief in your voice.

Jeonghan chuckled softly. "I couldn't let him keep reading our messages out loud. He was invading our privacy, and I just… reacted."

"You did the right thing," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "But I'm glad Mina had that video. A suspension would have been terrible."

"And those photos..." Jeonghan began, his voice a bit shy. "They're only mine to see." He avoided looking directly at you, his cheeks tinged with a light blush.

You couldn't help but smile at him, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. You gave his shoulder a playful bump with yours. "Of course, Jeonghan. Those photos are just for you."

Jeonghan let out a small sigh of relief. "It feels good to hear that. I never thought I'd actually punch someone, though."

As you continued walking, the conversation turned lighter, and you both talked about your plans for the weekend, upcoming assignments, and your favorite shows. The atmosphere was easy and comfortable, a stark contrast to the earlier chaos.

When you finally reached your house, you paused at the doorstep, turning to face him. "Do you want to come in for a bit? Maybe we can watch something or just hang out."

Jeonghan hesitated for a moment, then nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, I'd like that."

You opened the door and led him inside, the familiar surroundings of your home bringing a sense of comfort. As you both settled onto the couch, you leaned in close, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. The TV played softly in the background, but your focus was entirely on each other.

As you both sat on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting a warm light, you noticed Jeonghan glancing at you with a curious expression.

"Why are you spacing out?" he asked, his voice gentle but inquisitive.

You should say it? Should you say, that after the worry passed, the simple fact that Jeonghan went so far –as to punch someone because of you–, made you ten times more attracted to him? Was it a good situation to feel that way? Definitely not.

But you can't forget the scene you saw on Mina's cell phone, a confident Jeonghan punching someone in the face, risking everything, afraid that someone would see the risky nudes you send him.

You bit your lip, feeling a flush of heat rise to your cheeks. "It's just… seeing you punch James was very… hot."

Jeonghan scoffed, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "Hot? Really?"

You sulked, playfully pushing his shoulder. "Don't judge me."

He leaned in closer, his smirk turning into a soft smile. "I'm not judging you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "You standing up for yourself like that, so confident and strong… it was really sexy. Made me want you even more."

Jeonghan took a sharp breath, his eyes widening slightly.

"Jeonghan..."

"Hm?"

"I'm wet."

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[kumasakka]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 𝐖𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐘 3 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. karasu tabito x reader , yukimiya kenyu x reader , otoya eita x reader.

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. the moment he realized that he has the biggest crush on you.

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~2.3k words . 0.7k~1.1k words each.

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. drabble for each one. fluff. sprinkle of crack in karasu's one. f!reader. otoya such a hater in karasu's part. yukimiya being lovey-dovey. otoya is... well, otoya. spoiler - free ! safe for minors ! crappy writing. karasu, yukimiya and otoya may seem very ooc. part 1 with isagi, bachira and rin ! part 2 with nagi, reo and sae !

KARASU TABITO. when you complimented him—

　TO say you're beautiful is an understatement, you're literally the most beautiful girl in the class and if not only in class then also in the entire school. Yet if you only have a pretty face to look at, Karasu would definitely call you mediocre with no hesitation.

But of course, you're more than that. You're kind to all your friends and classmates unless you dislike them, you have an extraordinary humor and you also own a mature side as a third-year when talking to an underclassman.

Karasu definitely likes you like everyone do after being charmed by your personality and looks. And he knows that you're in another league, so he doesn't even try to make a move. Even if you're good friends—good friends in, you're eating lunch with him and Otoya.

"Stop trying, you hoe." you furrowed your eyebrows as Otoya's hand crawled to yours, only to get slapped away by you. "You seriously should stop. You have a girlfriend and she's a cute one."

"Why have one chick when you can have two?" Otoya shrugged his shoulders—he stopped you from punching his face. "Hey, we said no punch to the face. I still need this artwork."

"Sometimes I have to urge to beat you up." you huffed, taking you hand back and going back to eat. "I'm going to cut off your weener one day. Watch your back, sleep with open eyes."

"After one night with you, sure." he ignored the expression plastered on your face that displayed plain disgust. "I know you like what you see, babygirl."

"Please— I'd rather pour acid into my eyes than see you." you slowly slid away from him, getting closer to your other forgotten friend.

"And I'd rather that too than seeing you beside that boomer." Otoya didn't hide his frustration as he watched you nearly sitting on Karasu's lap. "I'm going to stab my eyes."

"Can't blame me for being cooler than ya." Karasu shrugged his shoulders.

Otoya puffed the air out of his cheeks before standing up and walking away. "I can't see this anymore." he said—as if he got offended by you two. At the end, he'd come back because he wouldn't leave without finishing his food.

"Fetch me a drink too, peasant!" you said before sliding away from Karasu again. "Sorry for getting so close."

"It's fine."

Silence was taking over the table, making you sweatdrop—was it a good idea for Otoya to leave? As much as you love Karasu, he was being quieter than usual, only staring at your face as if you had something on it.

"Do I have something on my face?" you were a little worried, finished with your food.

"Nah, everything's good." he replied with a smirk, "Just like staring at yer pretty face."

"You have a crush, don't you?" you teased him back.

"What if I do?"

You did not expect that, sealing your lips again at that. Well, isn't that awkward? Your lips drew a fine line as you thought for a moment what you could say, your eyes wandering around his face—in particular his birthmark under his eye.

"It suits you..." you started slowly, "the mole under your eye. I think it compliments your face."

Now he was the one taken aback by your unexpected compliment, blinking serveral times and taking a while to progress what you just said. "Is there... something else ya like?" the heck, he acts as if he really had a crush on you?

"Erm... I like your hair without gel." you admitted. "It looks so good and i'm kinda sad that you always use gel. I also like your eyes, they're sharp. I secretly look at them when you're focused on something.... Oh you're also pretty attentive and remind me of things I don't even remember. And you also help me with chemistry, thanks!"

To say Karasu was surprised now is a big understatement—bigger than big, he even took a moment to think of an answer. "Sounds like yer the one with a crush." he chuckled, slightly amused as a grin was plastered on his lips.

"Probably." the smile you gifted him was probably heavensent.

"I'm coming back to this? Are you serious? You two are flirting infront of me." Otoya deadpanned and sat down, pushing Karasu to the side while giving you your drink.

"Thanks." why the heck was Karasu thanking him? "I think my legs were a bit jelly."

He could literally feel how his legs were getting weak at your words from before.

Seems like Karasu Tabito isn't that mediocre.

YUKIMIYA KENYU. he doesn't crush on you, he loves you—

　WELL, there are moments where he considers himself rotten on the inside, always thinking about himself and caring about lives of important or famous people while not taking any interest in the lives of others. It's his weakness. Probably the only weakness about him.

That was before you popped up in his life one day after he got into high school. To start off, you weren't someone special. The typical classmate whose reputation and grades are decent—you were a background character.

It was always that way and always stayed like this. Until you confessed your love for him under the cherry blossom tree of the school. Again, a typical scenario in mangas he read. But he rejected you, still being kind and gentle throughout the rejection.

And surprisingly, you accepted it with no complaints, giving him your prettiest smile even though you tried to ignore the burning pain in your eyes while he returned a smile—a smile that didn't reach his eyes though.

He was curious. Curious about your surprising demeanour. How could you smile so brightly after getting rejecting? He could see how red your face got because of the embarrassment. Yukimiya Kenyu was for the first time, curious about someone who crushed on him.

But yeah, of course you couldn't help it to smile despite the rejection. It was the first time you mustered up your courage to tell your crush what you felt about them and you couldn't be more glad that it was Yukimiya Kenyu you confessed to.

Because he wasn't awkward at all, handling the situation like a professional—as if he experienced this more than once in his life. Which you don't doubt since he wasn't only popular in your class, he was popular around the entire school.

You never thought you had a chance anyway so you didn't take it to heart. Only when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, that's when you took it to heart. Who the heck would be friends with someone they rejected?

This might not be a bad idea though. No wonder why he rejected you. You didn't know each other at all. If that was even possible, your smile widened, the shyness and blush faded ever so slightly as you nodded with a beaming aura.

And this time, the smile of his reached his eyes.

Fast forward, two years seemed to pass quickly with you two growing to be great friends. If not great friends, then even best friends! You never thought that you could be friends with someone who used to be your crush, but you're so glad.

After that day, he seemed friendlier than usual, always greeting you as soon as you or he stepped a foot into the classroom, even being the first person he greets instead of his buddies. Not even the slightest moment was awkward with him.

And when he told you, during a phone call, about the blue lock program he's been invited to, you couldn't have been happier for him! Immediately cheering for him and bouncing up and down on your bed to congratulate him.

"But that also means, we won't see each other for a while, because I'm in a football prison." he mentioned, his voice sounded sadder than before.

"Oh man, that's really sad. I'll miss you so so so much!" your face heated up at your own words, "but well... That's the price you have to pay for entering such awesome program!"

"An expensive one."

You think your ears were playing games with you to be honest.

　RING RING !

Yukimiya wiped the water off his mouth as he called you—after a few days. As soon as he found out that he can get his phone back in exchange for three goals, he couldn't help but go all in during the first match to give you a call, wanting to be in contact as quickly as possible.

"Uh Yukimiya-san, wanna train with us?" his team mates asked him.

Surprisingly, you still didn't answer though after the first two rings. "Maybe she's sleeping..." he muttered under his breath before looking up from his phone to answer his team mate, "Sure, why not?"

　RING !

"Nevermind." Yukimiya smiled without looking apologetic and turned his back to them, making them sweatdrop.

"Sorry! I fell asleep while taking care of some things..." you immediately apologized, sounding like you were sleeping just seconds ago.

"Ah, I should be the one to say sorry for waking you up. Didn't mean to wake you up..." he apologized too, worried about your health. "You shouldn't tire yourself out so much even if you're the student council president."

"I know, Kenyu..." you mumbled into the speaker, barely audible. "But it's my last year... I wanna give it my all."

That's what he likes about you. It's the same motto you follow.

You finally sat up from your seat, your back felt like shit after laying on the table for hours. "How's that uh program?" you questioned, wiping your drool away as you placed your phone to the side, now continuing with your duties.

"It's interesting to be honest. Don't tell anyone, but my team mates still aren't on my level..." he whispered playfully.

"Damn..." you chuckled and carefully cut the piece of paper into fine squares.

"Can you..." he paused slightly, "turn on the camera?"

Your motions came to a stop as he asked you, presumably wanting to see your face that resulted in you blinked multiple times. "Nah... I just dozed off and drooled. There's no way I'm showing you my face..."

It was an excuse. You didn't want him to see you heated up face and certainly not the glassy eyes—you feared that if he saw you like this, he would get the idea that you still liked him. A lot more than a friend should.

"Please." he said it in a way that made it impossible for you to say no. "I want to see your face."

"Erm, you saw me a few days ago..." you trailed off, cupping your face to cool down your cheeks with cold hands before doing what he wanted.

"Thanks."

"Of course..." you quickly returned to your task, trying to cover your face as much as possible with the paper. "A-Ah so..! There's a new song I like. It has this like catchy tune and it's stuck in my mind twenty-four seven. It's called..."

To be honest, Yukimiya intends to follow his motto to »give one's all in every moment« when it's about you. And he also is glad that your youth isn't an ephemeral thing, your smile isn't short-lived. It's good.

Yukimiya wants to see it everyday.

OTOYA EITA. when he noticed he's stuck to you—

　IT'S definitely been over three months since you've been dating. While he's been using you for fun and all, you're being genuine and sincere. That's what he thought. Somehow, he's still stuck in the relationship he himself suggested.

And well, time passed with you so quickly somehow, making him look at his phone. His lockscreen to be more precise. A silly picture you secretly took with his phone while he wasn't watching, a picture he grew to love.

His eyes quickly went over the numbers and words he added to the photo. Numbers that told him when you started dating, letters that reminded him how he always called you those cheesy nicknames. His eyes shifted over the current date, comparing those two dates slowly. And he noticed something.

Five months already passed.

That means one hundred fifty days already passed since he's been dating you, three months over the limit. Sixty days over the limit. He bets that he could've had two to three other girls already if you weren't there.

But somehow, he can't bring himself break up with you. Why are you two still together? He doesn't remember dating someone because he crushed on someone. He dated because it was fun and three months was the limit before breaking up.

Otoya does not want to get attached to someone that could drag him down. He doesn't chain himself up for someone else. That's why he decided on the three months rule—fearing that if he didn't break up, he would forever be stuck with one and the same person.

Something happend what he feared the most. Growing attached to someone that could possibly weight him down. Surprisingly he didn't even cheat on you yet. And the fact is, he doesn't even like you that way! He doesn't like like you, he likes you.

"Shit." he cursed, placing his phone next to his bed on the nightstand. "I can't even look at another girl."

That's right. He can't even glance into another direction. Whenever he's out with you, he can't help but stare at you and he doesn't let his eyes roam at another figure when a hot chick walks pass him—his eyes stay glued to your form.

"I sound like a damn simp." he used his hand to cover the upper part of his face, hiding his eyes from the light.

Maybe he is. Not only maybe, he is a simp when it was about you. And it doesn't help when Karasu once told him that he had damned heart eyes trailing after you. The hell? He never looks at you when you only pass by and he knows how bad he's at lying.

Otoya Eita is drained to be honest. He's drained because he doesn't know what happend to himself.

"—Earth to Eita?" your hand was almost touching his face as you moved it up and down swiftly to get his attention. "Hey, I asked for your opinion."

"Huh?" he mumbled, blinked as his eyes drifted to the two shirts you were holding.

One was in a sweet [f/c] and the other one was black—but the pattern was pretty cute too. "Both would look good one you." he answered the question truthfully.

He remembers all too vivid how he always lied about his opinion—every time his exes asked for his opinion about two things to choose from, he told them the exact reply they wanted to hear, pleasing them in that way.

It's different with you though. He isn't sure what you want to hear. He only knows what would've suited you better. "Yeah, both would look..." he paused for a moment, his eyes showing that he was in daze, "amazing on you..."

Careful. A word stuck on his mind, living rent-free. He always minds to keep a careful distance, because he knows you were serious about relationship and love all that. He tried to be careful but suddenly, he tripped and fell.

On the other hand—you know his history about relationship and exes. Yet here you are, holding up two shirts for your boyfriend so he can pick one with the happiest smile adorning your lips while in the back of your mind, you knew that rotten side of him.

"Why are you still with me?" he blurted out accidentally. He didn't mean to ask his question out loud.

"Ah..?" your hands lowered at that, your smile faded slightly.

"I'm an asshole." no doubt, he was an asshole. "I could probably cheat on you whenever I want. Tomorrow, next week, next month..."

"Well, are you?" now it's your time to ask even though you didn't answer yet.

"No." how could you believe him?

"Then it's fine. It's fine if this only lasts for today. Or tomorrow." you chuckled. "At the end, we're still together somehow."

"Right..." he blinked for a moment, his heart never pounded like crazy. He felt stupid for asking. He felt stupid for doubting. He felt stupid for breaking his own rule. But he didn't mind that much. After all, he broke it for you.

"Mama Otoya is waiting for us. Come on, hurry up!"

Right. Otoya will do his best so you can enjoy today and worry tomorrow.

© 2024 kumasakka — do not plagiarize , copy , modify , translate our work !

a/n's note — pls check my watty out I'M ONLY ACTIVE THERE (lie).

[p0orbaby]

More Than Friends

summary: just two oblivious softies

warnings: none!

a/n: inspired by this request !

word count: 1.6k

-

You’ve known Leah for years. You’ve been through it all—school, youth academy, the awkward phase of realising you’re both gay and your parents’ tragic attempts to understand what that meant.

If anyone asks, Leah’s your best friend. You hang out all the time, have a weekly standing breakfast date at some overpriced organic café because Leah insists their smoothies are life-changing, and, on more than one occasion, you’ve been caught having full-on wrestling matches on the living room rug when someone makes the mistake of putting on a reality show with a competitive element.

The Chase, we’re looking at you!

But you’re just friends. Sure, Leah looks at you like you’ve sewn every star in the sky just for her, and yeah, you’ve caught yourself wondering what it would be like if she ever kissed you, but you’re both practical, reasonable adults. If there was something more between you, you’d know by now. You’re practically soulmates, but the platonic kind. The kind that talk about who they’d date if they ever started dating again. Which you’re not, because you’re both “too busy” with your own lives and “not really looking for anyone right now.”

It’s funny, though. Everyone else seems to have a different opinion. Your mutual friends, like that time Laura came over for a movie night and blatantly refused to sit between you and Leah on the sofa, claiming, “I’m not going to be the third wheel in whatever the hell is going on here.” Or when Beth invited you both to her birthday party but refused to put you on the seating chart together because, as she said, “It’s not a double date, guys”

To which you responded with a classic, “Who, us? We’re just friends!”

You don’t see what the big deal is. Leah texts you constantly, and sure, she sometimes insists on picking out your clothes before you go anywhere because “You need to stop wearing those same jeans every time we go out.” You just think it’s because Leah’s a bit of a control freak, which you’ve told her multiple times. Her rebuttal? “You just have no taste”

No taste? You’ve got plenty of taste, actually. Leah’s always complimenting you, too, which really doesn’t help her argument. Last week, when you wore that new jacket she made you buy, she practically wolf-whistled in the middle of the bar. “Looking good, babe,” she’d said, and you rolled your eyes so hard you almost lost contact with reality.

“Please, Williamson, contain yourself,” you’d muttered, but you couldn’t hide the grin on your face.

And then there’s the flirting. At least, what your friends call flirting.

To you, it’s just banter. You’re naturally a bit cheeky, and Leah can give as good as she gets. Like the time you told her she looked particularly dashing in her new suit, and she leaned in close, eyes locked on yours, and whispered, “If you think I’m dashing now, wait until you see me without it”

You sputtered something unintelligible, but it was fine because Leah just laughed and punched your arm, hard enough that you felt it for the next two hours. Flirting? That’s not flirting, that’s just classic Leah.

Sure, sometimes the banter takes a turn that even you can’t quite explain. Like when you two were at that men’s match, and during halftime, when they were playing that cheesy love song over the stadium speakers, Leah turned to you with a smirk and said, “This is our song”

“Our song?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” she said, leaning back in her seat, arms crossed like she just made a killer play, “You know, if we were like, one of those couples”

You laughed, because of course that’s funny, right? Leah, your best mate, who’s currently watching you with this mischievous glint in her eye, almost like she’s daring you to challenge her. “You’re so silly,” you said, throwing a handful of popcorn at her. She just winked and said, “That’s why you love me”

Right. That’s why you love her. Like a friend. Like a really good friend who also looks great in every lighting, and who you’d fight a pack of wolves for if the situation ever arose. You’ve actually had that discussion—a hypothetical about how many wolves it would take before one of you chickened out. Leah’s confident she could take on at least five, maybe six if they’re “not like, super rabid or anything”

You told her she’s delusional, and then she offered to demonstrate how she’d do it. So there you were, in the middle of your kitchen, Leah making slow-motion karate chops and what she called “strategic” growling noises, while you struggled to keep a straight face and actually managed to look concerned when she said, “You think I couldn’t handle a wolf? I’d rip its head off, and I’d do it for you”

You didn’t tell her that’s probably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to you. Because it’s not romantic, it’s just Leah. And that’s why you love her.

-

“Stop saying that,” Katie groans one night when you’re all out for drinks and Leah’s leaning on you in that way she does when she’s too tired to keep her head up. It’s a good thing Leah’s more of a lightweight than you because the last thing you need is her realising she’s practically snuggling into your side like an oversized cat.

“Saying what?” you ask, but you already know. You just want to make her spell it out.

“That you’re just friends,” she says, exasperated, like she’s said this a hundred times, which she probably has. “You two act like you’re married, and you don’t even acknowledge it”

Leah makes a noncommittal noise, half-asleep against your shoulder. “We’d make a cute couple, though, wouldn’t we?”

“Totally,” Katie says, deadpan, staring at you with raised eyebrows like she’s trying to telepathically scream at you to get a grip.

“We would,” you agree, patting Leah’s head because that’s what friends do. “But we’re not”

Katie just sighs, long and loud, and mutters something about denial.

Leah’s not helping. She keeps doing things that make your heart beat a little faster, like that time she grabbed your hand to cross the street and didn’t let go until well after you were on the other side. Or when she showed up at your place at 2 in the morning with your favorite snacks because you’d mentioned in passing that you were having a bad day. You’d called her an idiot for driving in the middle of the night just for you, and she just grinned and said, “Well, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

“You’re not my girlfriend,” you corrected her.

“Right,” she said, smirking like she knew something you didn’t, “I’m not”

If you weren’t so oblivious, you might think she’s trying to tell you something. But you are, so you don’t. Instead, you two carry on as usual—bickering like an old married couple, sharing clothes, pretending that the lingering touches and inside jokes are all part of the package deal that comes with being best friends.

Because that’s all it is. Just friends. Nothing more.

Nothing more until the day you catch Leah staring at you during one of your movie nights. You’re halfway through a rom-com, the kind you both pretend to hate but secretly love, and you glance over to see her looking at you with an expression that you’ve never quite seen before. It’s soft, like she’s memorising your face, and there’s something in her eyes that makes your stomach flip.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious, because Leah’s never looked at you like that before.

“Nothing,” she says, but she doesn’t look away, and now your heart’s doing that stupid thing where it speeds up like you’ve just run a mile.

And maybe, just maybe, you start to wonder if everyone else might be onto something.

[lovecla]

THIS IS MY PLAYPEN ; JACK HUGHES.

WARNINGS unedited, jealous jack!!!!

WORD COUNT 0.7k

FROM ME TO YOU it’s officially 2025 where i live and i just wanted to write something short and funny because we need more jealous jack fics in this world *mark ruffalo protesting meme*. honestly, i’m just so grateful for all of you i wish i could drag you to my home and smooch you all. thank u so much for everything!

𐙚

“I FEEL like a skirt shouldn’t be that short,” Jack says, eyeing you across the room. “I mean, when she bends over to do that I can literally see her panties.”

“You mean when she bends over to grind on her best friend?” Luke chuckles, leaning against the counter. “She’s just dancing, man.”

“The problem isn’t her dancing—”

“The problem is that you’re not the one she’s bending over for, right?” Luke rolls his eyes when Jack gives him the finger. Sometimes he felt like Jack was the youngest one among them all.

“I could totally be the one she’s bending for,” he says, acting all nonchalant and unimpressed. Luke almost laughs with how full of bullshit his brother is. “She likes me.”

Luke sips on his beer, and Jack turns around, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you say anything? Do you know something I do not?”

Luke places his glass on the counter and raises both of his hands. “Man, chill. If she likes you, if she doesn’t, it doesn’t matter; that’s not why we’re here today. It’s Mercer’s birthday, so suck it up, dude.”

Jack knows he should listen to his brother and act with his upper head, but it gets so hard— literally— when he has to stand there with his teammates and pretend he’s not watching your every move like a fucking creep.

He had never noticed how hot you were. He knew you were pretty, because only a blind person couldn’t do so, but hot? Yeah, no. You were usually the type of girl who wore large clothes, and even though he thought you were cute nonetheless, now that he’s seeing you with other eyes, he realizes he can’t live without having at least a taste.

But fucking Johnathan Kovacevic beats him to it, and Jack seriously wants to punch the guy in the face because really? Can that dumbass not see Jack spent the last thirty minutes or so eye fucking you? Like, hello?

He knows he can’t really be upset, but when you smile, bright and sweet, he swears he’s seeing red everywhere.

“Dude, chill, what the hell,” Jack hears someone say, but he doesn’t even acknowledge who. He just keeps staring as you lean forward to reach Kovacevic’s ear, standing on the tip of your toes.

You look so fucking gorgeous. Even if Jack believes you shouldn’t be wearing something that short— not because it doesn’t look good but because he can’t even protect you if someone decides to try something funny—, he knows you’re the most beautiful person he has ever seen.

Yet now you were laughing at Kovacevic, probably not even funny, jokes.

“Luke,” he calls his brother, who silently rolls his eyes before putting his phone down to give his brother his full attention. “Can you, like, help me out?”

“I’m not going to talk to her,” he says. “What is this, fifth grade? ‘Hey, Y/n, my brother really likes you and would like to hold hands during recess if that’s possible—‘” he says, doing a very annoying voice.

Jack holds in the need to punch him.

“No. I meant something like getting Johnathan out of there or something,” he explains. “So I can go talk to her.

“That’s just as childish but fine.”

Luke makes his way to where you and Johnathan were standing and says something that makes Kovacevic’s eyebrows meet his hairline and, the best part, also makes him leave.

So you’re standing in the middle of the dance floor by yourself, but not for long because—

“Hey, there, Y/n,” Jack greets you, trying his hardest to sound cool. You chuckle, smiling at him.

“Hi, Rowdy. How are you?”

“Better now.” He answers smoothly, which makes you laugh.

“You’re awful,” you grin. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Mercer? It’s his birthday…”

“I’d rather be here, with you,” he puts his hands inside his front pockets, and you stare at him closely. The hat he’s wearing makes him look hotter, even if it gets you a little bit sad because you can’t fully see his perfect, golden hair. “You look hot.”

You tilt your head, the unexpected compliment making you blush. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he hums. “You look even hotter now that you’re not talking to other guys.”

That makes you roll your eyes, even if you’re still smiling. “You sound like a toxic boyfriend.”

“I could be that, yeah,” he smirks.

“Toxic?” You raise your eyebrow.

“A boyfriend,” he presses his lips together. Then, “Your boyfriend.”

“Well,” you step closer, looking up at him. “I think we can make that work.”

He smiles before kissing you, and surely, the rest is story.

[autisticfaun420]

Autism and Fecal Smearing

I want to get this out of the way first so I'm just gonna say it, I struggle with this awful habit which is called diaper digging and fecal smearing, this post (and blog for that matter) I don't want to shy away from talking about this stuff. So yeah if I have a bowel accident, am frustrated/overstimulated/angry/sad, and am left alone for a few minutes I tend to do this. It's not as bad as before because I have preventative measures in place, like special onesies that make it so I can't remove my diaper myself (ughhh whatever...) and crunchy scented textured slime that my mom will add even more scent to just to make it overwhelming. The average number of episodes has been greatly reduced but I had one a couple weeks ago when my onesies were in the watch so the topic is fresh on my mind.

A lot of caregivers and autism parents are mystified and baffled by this habit and wonder why we do it. I can't speak for everyone, only myself, but to me personally the scent and texture of feces is so overwhelming and strong that I get a "high" from it. I take cannabis edibles daily and my parents let me get drunk once a month so I'll say its very comparable. I get a rush from it. My life can be so monotonous sometimes that smearing crap feels like getting away with a bank robbery, I go from extremely angry to feeling before then to like a happy giddy kid without a care in the world. I zone out so hard that I end up smearing it all over my face, walls, floor, and if it gets in my mouth I'm usually too far gone to care. I do not do it because I'm mad at my parents, I do not do it because I want to get back at them for something, I simply do it because my need for sensory input is so strong and when I'm about to go into a potentially violent meltdown I reach for the sensory nuke when my normal things to stim with just won't cut it. No high is complete without the crash and there's a crash. Seeing my parents and one of my unlucky friends SOOOOOOO unreasonably mad, it's terrifying. My parents got used to it and eventually just shrugged it off but I have heard them lose their cool over it several times and have heard my name and every cuss word in the book the room over where they clean. Not nice of them but I do not blame them one bit but the feeling inside hearing that is very real for me. I guess they got too good at shrugging it off. I had an incident where I smeared in the bathroom of one of my high school friends, very chill guy, look at me and scream at the top of my lungs, and punched a hole in the wall in the living room. I didn't know the painting he had in his bathroom was that rare but I ruined it completely and that's why he reacted that way. He could of done better but I do not blame him one bit. After that though seeing a side of that friend that I never seen before scared me into wearing the stupid onesie suit every day without fuss or a fight when before I would. Not only the suit but I have the replacement slime on me at all times, if I have a BM I tend to just pull it out and play with it. This doubles up as subtly letting my parents know I need a change, which I like cause I don't have to ask verbally which can feel kinda degrading sometimes. There is one good thing that has happened with this though. My hippie parents looked at my turd stained walls and thought I had some latent artistic talent and needed self expression and bought me art and painting supplies. They were misguided, it didn't prevent any incidents but I still took the art well. My therapist at the time had some art connections and the art I made was featured in what's known as an "outsider art" gallery. I sold a few pieces for 300-600 each. It's just a little bit bitter sweet cause if you've seen the King of the Hill episode about the Probots or just know a bit about outsider art in general, you'd know the way they market it is kind of, problematic to say the least. The gallery's artist profile for me made me out to be some kind of idiot dunce and made my parents look like heroic geniuses for spotting this talent or some shit and it's embarrassing that my artwork sold most likely cause of that over the strength of the art. Like oh wow look at this stupid R word who plays with poop his cool parents are soo smart, ughhhh. However I guess that's just the art game and I'm super proud of myself I made a couple thousand dollars of MY OWN money, it meant the world to me to have it. I'm not allowed to post my artwork on here and I wish I could share it with you on MY terms and not the gallery's but my parents are worried it could come back to my identity.

I want to end this post by saying if you engage in fecal smearing you are not stupid, broken, or filthy. You are a human being desperate for relief and you took the fastest way to get it. Shout out to all my autistic homies who smear or have smeared, I see you and you are loved.

[missriddle03]

Title: You cry, I cry

parings: fem!reader x mattheo riddle

Small synopsis: Mattheo can't deal with his father and his anxiety is getting the better of him but his girlfriend is there to help him

Time to read: 10mins (average)

Word count: just under 2k

Warnings: Angst, written panic attack, two swear words

Song recommended: cry by cigarettes after sex

It was a typical school day in the world of hogwarts. The Slytherins were due to share a class with the Gryfindors, whilst the Hufflepuffs were with the Ravenclaws. It wasn’t time for class so Mattheo and his friends were in the astronomy tower.

“You know, it’s actually quite a nice view up here” Theo had said as he was taking a drag from his cigarette. The sky was a pale blue but the clouds were coming in and some little hues of grey became more and more noticeable as the day went on. Mattheo, Lorenzo and Theodore were the only ones there as Draco and Blaise were helping Professor Snape with a potion for class. “Have you brought y/n up here?” Lorenzo asked Mattheo.

No answer.

“Mattheo?” he repeated.

No answer.

Theodore clicked his fingers in front of his face and soon enough his gaze diverted to him. “What?” Mattheo answered. Theo let out a little chuckle not sure whether to be worried or brush it off. “You zoned out, Enzo asked if you brought y/n here before or not” His italian accent was becoming prominent on certain words but his friends understood him and that was all he cared about. “Oh..i-uh-yeah I have. I brought her here at night and she really liked seeing the stars. She loves astronomy so I had to bring her here” a slight smile formed on his face remembering the night that he brought her there. Mattheo and y/n had been friends since the day they both arrived, she didn’t care about who he was or even who he was related to and then one day he asked her to be his girlfriend..of course she said yes. “You are not your parents, don’t compare yourself to them. You can choose who you want to be and sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to in order to find out who we are and that’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time”

Theodore didn’t want to admit to himself that his friend might need help, he noticed Mattheo zoning out more often than normal and he hardly spoke unless y/n was around but it wasn’t the case of missing the girl who took his heart it was the case that he put up a smile for her not wanting her to judge him for not being able to cope. Mattheo didn’t want y/n involved with the dark parts of his mind or the dark part of him that involves his family. “Y/n’s a lucky girl” Enzo stated, looking out past the railing. Suddenly a Gryffindor came onto the astronomy tower, it was a girl who looked similar to y/n but; of course it wasn’t. “You know..Dumbledore should really watch who he invites in this school. He shouldn’t let descendants of a murderer into here. You three are exactly like your parents” the girl said.

Mattheo’s heart was pounding out of his chest but only registered those last seven words. “Leave before I make you wish you hadn’t spoken to us, Stronza” (bitch) his knuckles turned white as he tightened them getting ready to punch the girl. Neither of the boys had a good relationship with their parents, Theo’s mother died when he was young and it pained him to see people with their mothers but his father was his worst enemy. From a young age he had been taught all the unforgivable curses and as soon as he turned 16 he was forced to become a death eater and he knew his life wouldn’t get better. Lorenzo had a complicated relationship with Bellatrix; his mother was also the mother of Mattheo. His father wasn’t in the picture and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. The girl left the astronomy tower feeling frightened by the threat that had left Theo’s mouth. “Don’t let it get to your head,” he instructed Mattheo but it already had gotten to his head. “I’m gonna go I’ll see you guys later” was his final words before getting up from the chair and heading to his dorm and took a cigarette and took a long inhale before falling onto his bed, burying his head into his pillows.

Theodore took a deep breath and sat down. “I’m worried about him, Enzo” he muttered, more to himself than to Enzo’s ears. “I know..I am too”

“The best part was the love confession, this book has my heart” y/n said to her friend Pansy. Y/n was a big bookworm and Pansy loved hearing about her recent endeavours in reading, “I just don’t see it! If it’s a love triangle you want the girl to end up with the bad boy and not the soft guy because she will just walk all over him and the good boy will keep her trapped. You should know all about bad boys” Pansy joked as she let out a giggle. “Shut up” Y/n laughed. “I’m not joking I-”

“Y/n!” someone called out interrupting Pansy. Theodore came running into the library standing next to the girls. “What? Is Mattheo okay?” Immediately getting out of her seat as worry took a hold of her. He shook his head before continuing, “I don’t know, I don’t think he’s doing well mentally” She lightly ran her hand through her head, Mattheo’s mental health wasn’t something that was new to her he had panic attacks that paralysed him until he calmed down and his head was all over the place and only himself could bring him out of it. “Where is he?” she asked Theo. “I’m not sure but I think he’ll be in class” Y/n let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding before Theo placed his hands around her and warmed her into a hug. “He’ll be okay, he will be”

“I’m just worried..I don’t want anything to happen to him”

“I know”

Pansy closed the book they were reading and placed it back on the shelf before taking y/n’s hand. “Come on, let’s go to class then” Theo sent her a smile before the three of them left the library and went to potions. It was exam day and it stressed everyone out, they all took their seats but one seat was empty.

Mattheo’s. Y/n's head was running a mile about where he was, if he was okay and why he wasn’t there but luckily her mind was put at ease a few moments later. “Mr Riddle, please take your seat” Professor Snape said. He walked in and sat down next to y/n, “Hey Love, you okay?” he whispered. “Yes I am, but are you okay?”

Mattheo took out his pen and wrote his name on his test and nodded his head. “You don’t need to lie to me” He turned his head around and pointed his finger up at her “Stop asking if I’m okay because I am so just leave it at that”

Looking down, y/n wrote a note to Theodore and placed it on the floor kicking it to him (he was in front of them)

He isn’t telling me anything

Y/n maybe ask about it again

No, I can’t I don’t want to make him more upset than he already is

Don’t you want to know what’s going on? Cara

Yes

Si so do I, listen Mattheo hasn’t cared about someone as much as he cares about you.He just doesn’t want to show that he has a problem. He sees that as a weakness.

I care about him more than he knows and he knows that no matter what he says I am not the type of person to use it against him. He needs to tell me himself

If he tells you please tell me, he’s my best friend and I hate seeing him like that

Of course I’ll tell you Theo. You’re his best friend too

A smile was brought to Theo’s face but Y/n’s attention was shortly shifted once she saw Mattheo with his chair back a little. His leg was bouncing up and down as his chest was moving at a rapid rate.

Blurriness took over him as he stood up,looked around the classroom, and bolted. Leaving y/n as she took a look at Theo. She put her hand up and asked to be excused to the bathroom and Snape granted her permission.

My heart was racing as I began my search for Mattheo. I knew it wasn’t going to get better but I atleast thought that he was going to tell me..maybe Theo was right I should have asked him more about it. “Mattheo!” I called out but he didn’t respond. I ran through the hallway but I didn’t see him. I decided to go to his dorm thinking that maybe he would be in there. His door was left ajar and a figure was now noticeable. He was sitting in front of his bed with his head in between his legs. I was frightened for him, I walked over to sit down next to him but he didn’t register that it was me. “Matt, please look at me” sobs escaped his lips. “No, go away” his breathing was still all over the place. I took his hand and his tear stained cheeks finally looked at me. “I-I can’t br-reathe”

“Copy my breathing okay..breathe in..”

“Breathe out..Breathe in..Breathe out”

Eventually his breathing had settled but his hands were still shaking. “I’m sorry..I’m really sorry” he cried. I couldn’t bear seeing him like this, “It’s not your fault, don’t feel like you have to hide this side of you” Mattheo wiped his tears. I hadn’t seen this side of him and quite frankly I don’t want to..it hurts too much. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked him. His eyes moved away from me but my hand never left his.

“It’s becoming too real, my father wants me to be a ruler like him and I can’t. I can’t lose you either, I’m only going to make you cry, I'm only going to hurt you. All day everyday all I see is him no matter what I’m doing I know I’m gonna be just like him. Everyone else sees it, I mean this Gryffindor came up to me and my friends and said exactly what everyone else says. I can’t live in fear of not knowing what’s going to happen. I’m only going to make everyone turn against you”

Tears began to fill up my eyes, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, and who cares what they say. They don’t know what you are really like..all they see is that one side. The side that they get told but they don’t realise how different you are. How sweet you are, how thoughtful you are. I mean maybe you punched a kid but guess what? So have I. If loving you makes me a villain I don’t fucking care. You mean so much to me that all my friends can leave me and hate me but it will be worth it for you”

“I love you,” he choked out. His brown curly hair stuck to his forehead, he placed his head in the crook of my neck and wrapped his arm around my waist. “I love you too, if you feel another anxiety attack..come to me”

He nodded his head and fell asleep.

If you liked this please give a like/follow/reblog much appreciated and if you want tags here is my masterlist to check out :)

Thank you for reading <3

[verstappen-cult]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16

— 01. THE BEGINNING

NEXT PART — [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as you’d like! some cursing. note: hiii i love being a little delulu, so i had to do this. it is also my first time doing a smau for the f1 fandom, so be kind with me! if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished, lol. ♡

INSTAGRAM POST

📍MIAMI, FL

Liked by lilycollins, alex_albon and 365,751 others

yourusername unexpected trip. 🧃

view all 4,655 comments

user1 Alex x Y/N content incoming????

user2 they haven't been seen together in a while user3 i don't think they're friends anymore user4 he left a comment lol

alex_albon brownie's the real star in this pic

yourusername forget about pic credits.

user5 she was in greece a couple of days ago, oh to be rich

user6 and pretty user7 and have famous friends user8 and BE famous

williamsracing Thanks for accepting our invitation, we can't wait to have you with us this weekend!

alex_albon YOUR invitation???

user9 we're sleeping in the fact that she's gonna be in the paddock this weekend for the first time

user10 she's living the dream

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by haileybieber, tomholland2013, landonorris and 972,431 others

yourusername i only came here to drink and watch guys in very fast cars.

📸: @alex_albon who i had to physically drag out of his hotel room after free practice was over.

view all 3,865 comments

user11 caption is so real

user12 she's just like us fr

tchalamet call me next time you're in nyc

user13 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE user14 timmy is doing what all of us want to do

haileybieber pretty girl

user15 idk abt u guys but i see lando in the likes 👀

user16 don't read too much into it user17 they’re probable friends user18 i wanna be her

alex_albon i'm so good at taking pics i should dedicate my life to photography

yourusername please stick to driving

user19 i want their friendship :(

ALEX’S IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM STORIES

Seen by zendaya, charles_leclerc and 287,386 others

there is no cause in calling or messaging alex, you know he will not answer. not when qualy is just an hour away and he needs to be prepared.

you don’t know where you are. you see the main entrance a couple of meters away, but you can’t remember where to go from there. but you also can’t stand all day in a place you don’t know, surrounded by fans and people too eager to notice how lost you look. the best you can do is walk around and find your way back; if you have any luck you’ll find alex’s garage before he has to go out. to wish him luck and punch him in the face.

you send him one last message, promising to make his life a living hell, and put your phone away.

you’re trying to follow the path you remember in your head, when someone comes barreling into you.

“hey!” the person says a little out of breath. “i was just looking for you.”

you take off your sunglasses to get a better look and it dawns on you that you definitely know this person. or at least you’ve seen him countless of times in your tv, sometimes in alex’s instagram stories too.

“charles!” you really don’t know him, this is definitely the first time you are speaking to him, but you’ve never been so happy to see someone you barely know before. “oh my god, you won’t believe what alex did to me.”

“i know,” he says immediately and you furrow your eyebrows. he shows you his phone, as if that will tell you what you need to know, but when you don’t speak, he smiles hesitantly. you don’t know if the blush on his cheeks is because he was running to get to you or if it’s for a whole different reason. “i saw your story and thought maybe i could help you?”

you process his words for a few seconds, until you realize who really is in front of you. “oh my god, charles!” you exclaim a little louder, drawing attention, and you witness how people begin to notice charles’ presence because of that. he looks at you with confusion on his face, race suit hanging low around his waist. “you’re not supposed to be here, you should be in your car.”

charles’ blush deepens. “yeah,” he says, scratching his neck and avoiding your gaze. “but i couldn’t leave a pretty girl here all alone.”

now it’s your turn to blush, cheeks heating up so much that you’re sure everyone around you can see it.

“let’s go, please. i don’t want to be the reason why you’re gonna be scolded for.”

you walk beside him, trying to give him space as he takes selfies with a few fans that have the courage to approach him. however, charles apologizes with a smile when he sees you a couple of meters away and, as you walk side by side, you can’t help but notice heads turning in your direction and whispers of your name and his.

you fall into an easy conversation that ends up sooner than you’d have liked. but you don’t part ways until his number is on your phone and the promise to text him on your lips.

TWITTER

Y/N’s IMESSAGE

INSTAGRAM POST

Liked by charles_leclerc, romeestrijd and 676,823 others

yourusername what an incredible weekend! i got to attend my first GP thanks to @/williamsracing (and alex too, he gets mad if i don’t say he had to do with it) and meet new and amazing people. let’s hope this is not the last. 🏎️🤞🏼

view all 7,665 comments

user20 SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL

user21 mother is mothering

williamsracing Oh no, thank YOU for accepting our invitation and enjoying with us, even if you got lost for a minute. 💙

yourusername it was all alex’s fault alex_albon NO DON'T LISTEN TO HER, THEY ARE FRAMING ME !!!!

user22 everybody calm down… CHARLES IS IN HER LIKES

user23 so it’s true what everyone’s been saying? they were together on saturday??? user24 idk but there are pics of them walking together user25 not my boyfriend trying to steal my girlfriend

romeestrijd you need to take me w you next time. ❤️‍🔥

yourusername we'll have so much fun! user26 does this mean you're going to the next race?

user27 why do people always assume a driver's dating someone when they like a pic??? u’re acting crazy

user28 like friendships between a man and a woman exists, HELLO !?!?

charles_leclerc thanks for stopping by.

user29 CHARLES WHAT user30 Stopping by where? user31 what do you mean?? i mean what do you- what do you mean??

user32 not Y/N replying to all her friends comments and not charles' 🤣🤣

user33 she's too much for him user34 HE'S too much for her x

note: ups, hello to you again… if you make it here, thank u sm! let me give you a lil kiss on the forehead. btw i’m planning on making this a series, so if you liked it please let me know. and if you want to request something, feel free! comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

[clockwayswrites]

Danny & Constantine, Orange, Butterscotch Ripple

@imbreonix Prompt fill set #4

It started out as a joke that turned into an actual event: Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It sounded absurd, of course it did. The Justice League was hardly work and certainly not a social club, but once it had been said people started to actually think about it. More and more of the heroes were taking on mentorship rolls for the next generation. While the heroes, of course, tried their best to provide what their mentees needed, they were still grown, experienced heroes and their sidekicks were kids.

Kids who lived a life that most could never understand.

Eventually it have been talked about enough in passing and over rushed meals and before meetings that it ended up on the agenda.

“Robin believes it would be beneficial for the younger heroes to know others in the same positions as themselves,” Batman had explained, as if that answered anything. The Big Bat wouldn’t even clarify who Robin was.

But there they were, Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It actually was a pretty nice event with snacks, drinks, and several enthusiastic sidekicks. It turned out Robin was Batman’s sidekick.

“Partner,” Robin insisted boldly, whenever the term sidekick was used within his hear range (which was disturbingly good).

The kid was the very opposite of Batman: bright, personable, and always in motion. Flash was more than a little concerned how quickly Robin and Kid Flash seemed hit it off. “They’re plotting something.”

“Hn,” was Batman’s reply, though he was watching the two whispering sidekicks too.

All in all it was a cheerful success.

It made John’s skin crawl. He jiggled the unlit cigarette in his fingers. He didn’t do social events, not outside of bars, and he really, really didn’t want to be here.

“We can just go back to the House,” a small, nervous voice suggested hopefully from behind John.

That was the thing, though, he wasn’t here for his own sake.

“No, we can’t,” John said with a sigh.

“We really can, though. We haven’t even talked to anyone. I bet they haven’t even noticed we’re here—”

“John! I did not think you would be attending,” Wonder Woman said as she approached, a smile in place. A good chunk of the founding members trailed after her.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, well,” John said with a little shrug. He didn’t admonish the kid for cussing, he didn’t have a leg to stand on there, but by Superman’s puzzled face the Big Blue had clearly heard it. “Figured I had better bring the kid.”

“The kid?” Hal repeated incredulously.

John reminded himself he really shouldn’t punch his teammates.

“Yeah, the kid,” John said. He stepped aside to reveal Danny who had been hiding behind him. “Geist, Justice League, Justice League, Poltergeist.”

“Um, who, Constantine?” Flash asked, sounding nervous.

John looked to his right, which for all appearances, was an empty spot of air. “Seriously, kid?”

“Sorry,” Danny whispered.

“It’s okay, kid,” John said, holding back a sigh. The kid was sensitive to that sort of thing, so John had been trying. (He still messed up plenty, but he was trying.) John looked back the Justice Leaguers and shrugged. “Ghost. Visibility is like that sometimes.”

“Ah,” Diana said with a sage nod. John admired the woman for how nothing seemed to phase her. She simply looked to where John had been looking and smiled. “Hello, Poltergeist. Welcome to Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day.”

“Partner!” a kid dressed like a damn traffic light called from across the room where he was talking to who was clearly a mini Flash.

“Oh,” Danny said. (It was clearly weirding out some of the heroes to hear Danny but not see him.) “I’m not… John doesn’t let me help that much? I don’t know if I count as a sidekick.”

“That’s because last time you tagged along you went intangible and fell through a bridge, kid,” John grumbled and then immediately felt bad. “You know we’re working on it.”

“Yeah,” Danny mumbled.

John couldn’t see Danny, not any more than the others, but he could picture the way the kid would be scuffing his toe on the floor, head down as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

John sighed. “Ain’t your fault kid, powers take time to master.”

“Robin,” Batman called.

Immediately the tiny traffic light was literately bounding across the space to stand next to Batman. The kid smiled up at the Big Bat like the man had hung the moon.

“Yes, B?”

“This,” Batman said, nodding to the empty space, “is Poltergeist. He came with Constantine.”

“Oh,” Robin said. He spun to face the spot of air and held out his hand without hesitation. “Come, Kid Flash and I are— um,” Robin shot Batman a look, “talking. You can join us! I bet you will be really useful!”

Flash mouthed the word ‘useful’ with a terrified look on his face, but no one actually said anything while Robin just stood there, smiling, with his hand out. And then Robin’s grin impossibly widened, his hand closed around nothing, and he took off across the room.

“…anyone else worried about that?” John asked after a moment.

“So worried,” Flash said.

“Hn,” Batman added.

“Right then. I need a glass of shitty punch to spike,” John said and abandoned his teammates to find the refreshments. Thank the gods, the fuckers, for hip flasks.

-

“I live with a ghost now, Bats, you’ve got to up your skills if you want to sneak up on me anymore,” John said before taking another sip of his much improved punch.

Batman stepped up into the corner of John’s vision, which felt like such a Bat thing to do, so John felt the placement was very purposeful. John wouldn’t complain, it let him watch Batman without taking his his eyes off where Danny was sitting with Robin, Kid Flash, and Wonder Girl. Danny was pretty see through, but he was slowly becoming more visible the longer he spent in the company of the other teen heroes.

“How long have you had him?” Batman asked.

John snorted. “That’s what you go with? Not how it works to fuck a ghost?”

Hal and Aquaman weren’t as quiet as they thought they were, but maybe that was on purpose. Maybe they had wanted John to hear. He just hoped the kids hadn’t. He might not have a clean mouth, but even he had limits.

“He doesn’t have to be your blood to be your son,” Batman said in that certain way of his.

It had John finally glancing over at Batman. It was a lot to admit and John hated to be on uneven grounds. “How long have you had yours?”

No one would ever believe him, but John could swear that Batman almost smiled.

“Nearly five years.”

John hummed and took another sip of the punch. “Only six months, not even. And he’s not my son. Kid deserves better than me as a da.”

“They always deserve better,” Batman said, his voice a low rumble that John swore he could feel in his battered bones. “We just have to try to be better.”

“Yeah, well,” John said with a bitter chuckle. “I’m not you, Bats, I don’t think I have better in me.”

“Yes you do, you’re here, after all,” Batman pointed out.

John swallowed and looked back the kid, his kid. Danny was almost solid now. His white hair floated as he threw back his head in laughter at something Robin had said.

“Yeah… yeah I am.”

---

AN: So. So. This has gotten away from me. I blame Moku. So much blame. I can't promise I'll continue it but there is... there is a good bit of plotting TO continue it. It would be after I get done with City Pigeons Bleed Green though, as that's my current family feels fic.

If it gets continued we have a John/Bruce tired dads with issues slow burn fuck buddies to lovers, Danny and Dick being friends (and family), canon divergence, Tim joins the Bat family early, Bats with magic (and the world should fear them), and Alfred's judgemental eyebrow.

[whitefeathers]

perv!butcher who gets handsy with you but of course he can, hes the leader!

mdni. DARK CONTENT WARNING, READ MY PINNED POST BEFORE CONTINUING. cw: manipulation, dubiously consensual/non con touching but reader is into it, abuse of power. Choking, somnophilia. Daddy kink. Massive daddy issues and butcher is a father figure to u in this, heavy on the taboo and age diff. <3 im down to make a part 2 to this if ppl are interested too ! w/c: 1.2k

Butcher isn't a nice man. He's ruthless, does what he wants, whenever he wants - he's definitely got some sort of conscience in there, but it's drowned out by the primary emotion that drives him. Lust. It's usually for blood, but this time, it's for you.

A pretty young thing, definitely not dumb but definitely inexperienced. Sometimes you don't know when to shut your mouth, too excitable and bubbly, too full of energy. You mean well, you do. But when Butcher already has a headache, your begging to take temp V is driving him mad.

"I'll be okay, it won't hurt me, I could just have cool powers like you, and it'll be all over the next day! It could really help, we don't know what I'd be able to do and it could be something helpful!"

You're sat next to Butcher on the deflated couch in the pawn shop basement, only the pair of you there. You're sat with your legs crossed facing him, gesturing with your words, while Butcher is sat with his legs spread wide, pinching the bridge of his nose, facing directly ahead at the TV. He sighs, turning his head to look at you.

"Fucccck no. You ain't havin' any, end of story. Give 'ers a bit of peace and quiet, will ya? Me 'ead is banging, yer yapping isn't helping."

"I'm not yapping, I'm trying to help..." You murmur, dejected. You turn to face away from Butcher, frustrated and feeling like he doesn't trust you. He watches as the dull light from the TV illuminates your face, trying so hard to look calm and collected. Butcher sees right through you. He knows you need his approval like air.

Butcher sighs again. He's a horrible, fucked up man. He's about thirty years your senior. Fuck it, he'll blame the V for how he's acting if anyone pulls him up on it. If anyone dares. He's the leader, he can do what he likes.

"Look, c'mere. Ya wanna help? Sit,"

"Sit...?" You meet his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. Butcher is unwavering, and he looks scary. His eye contact is intense, and you choose to look down at his chain and his sweater instead.

"Yeah. Sit. Didn't stutter, did I? C'mere," your gaze follows his hand (so large that it's practically a paw) as he pats his strong upper thigh. Your head and your heart race, and you stay still.

"Isn't that... um... inappropriate?" You've always seen him as a mentor, a leader, a father figure. Of course you've had some thoughts, but you've shoved them down deep enough to silence them. He's practically your dad - and old enough to be, too. This is wrong.

Like a dam breaking, all those thoughts suddenly surface. Flickers of Butcher's strong, veiny hands, his rough lips, his even rougher voice calling you a good girl. Fuck, this is bad.

"Surely is. Stop ya whinin' though and give me what I want, yeah?"

You shakily stand up, nodding. You always want to make him proud, and deep down you know you want this - whatever this is. It could be anything from a cuddle to a punch in the gut. Butcher is a live wire.

You settle yourself in his lap, hovering by putting most of your weight on your white-socked feet still planted on the ground. Up this close, Butcher is all you can smell. Heady, masculine, intense. Like testosterone, sweat, and leather. You know it should gross you out but it doesn't.

Butcher's large arm manhandling you so your back is to his chest makes you gasp. He's overpowering and rough, too strong for his own good, too arrogant and self-serving. His hand wraps around to suddenly grip your throat, feeling your pulse but not choking you. Just holding. Your heart jumps into your throat. He might actually just kill you right here.

"You're nervous. Scared I'm gonna hurt ya, sweetheart? Scared I'm gonna make ya cry?" Your eyes flutter closed, and you nod, terrified. He's whispering into your ear, a dark growl. You can feel his warm breath against your neck, smelling like cigarette smoke and mint. His other arm is around your waist, keeping you close to him. Making it so you can't get away.

"Not gonna hurt ya. You want this too," Butcher takes a deep inhale, nostils flaring and eyes fluttering shut. The V has given him an increased sense of smell, and with your legs slightly spread, he can smell exactly what you've been desperate to hide.

"Yeah, you want this too. Can smell ya dripping. This little cunt want daddy, yeah?" Butcher laughs cruelly when his words make your breath stutter and a new gush of wetness to soak your panties, intensifying the smell of pussy that is driving him mad. He takes another deep inhale, and you try to shut your legs, only for Butcher to force them back open with a heavy palm, slapping the soft jiggle of your thigh through your cargos. Mean.

"No, no. No, no, baby, nuh uh. Nope. Don't fuck me about. You're on my team, and you're mine. You want a daddy? I'll be your daddy," you shake your head no, and Butcher coos.

"No? Don't want a daddy?"

"Don' want any daddy, want you," you whisper. "'S always been you."

He groans and adjusts you in his lap so you're even closer to him, and his lips are on your neck by his fingers, just resting. You can feel him now, hard against your ass. Fuck, either he's carrying a gun in his pants, or he's huge.

"Thaaat's right. Always been me. Picked ya up off the street, ya own dad ain't know how to treat ya. I do though. Know what brats like you need," his hand on your throat tightens, cutting off the circulation to your head and making you go dizzy. His lips move up, his tongue softly licking that spot where your neck meets your jaw.

"Need an older man to look after you. Need a good stuffin' to stop you gettin' all gobby. You've been giving me such a headache, princess. Gonna fuck that mouth outta ya. Just gotta have you passed out for it, yeah?"

You struggle to breathe, panicking. Passed out? Why? Your eyes start to flutter closed and Butcher's voice starts to echo in your head, feeling both a million miles away and right inside the pulse of your clit at the same time.

"Stupid lil cunt for daddy. Ya won't be able to take me when you're awake, so I just gotta force it while you're out... sleep now, sweetheart. Shhh." he coos as your vision goes spotty, and you go limp in his lap. Once he's sure you're out cold, he lays you down on the couch, and gets to work using you just how he's always wanted.

He's a deeply fucked up man, but it's not his fault you make such a perfect daddy's girl.