#spike angst

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Stay High

Former Spike x GN!Reader

Summary: You lose the man you love and you go downhill fast.

Warnings: Alcohol and drug use, swearing, grief, depression, just a lot of angst

Word Count: 1,043

You walk through the front door and see the Scoobies sitting in the living room.

"Buffy, what are they all doing here?"

"We think you need help" Buffy said.

"You need to cut this out, you're making things worse for everyone around you" Xander snapped.

"Xander! We agreed to be gentle about it" Willow reprimanded him.

"We're worried about you, Y/n" Giles told you.

You get overwhelmed by everyone staring at you and you lash out.

"You have no idea what it's like!" You cried out "You don't have to live with it everyday!"

"You think it doesn't hurt for me? You think I don't miss him?" Buffy responded.

"You don't have to live with the guilt"

"I feel guilty, we all do"

"I don't" Xander muttered and Willow slapped his arm.

"You shouldn't feel solely responsible for what happened" Buffy said.

"Of course I feel responsible! We loved each other and I let him down!"

"I-I didn't know you loved him" Giles utters, trying not to upset you anymore.

"I do. I did"

"He wouldn't want this for you"

"How dare you stand there and tell me what he'd want? You didn't know him half as well as I did!"

"Y/n, calm down"

"How can you tell me to calm down?! Spike is dead! And I have to get high just to keep my mind off it, I have to spend everyday in a haze to forget what I let happen! I think about him all the time, getting high is the only break I have and that's starting not to work anymore!"

"Y/n" Giles said softly.

"I'm done with this" you stormed out, up the stairs and to your room.

"Y/n, you're not getting out of this!" Buffy called out.

You rifled through your drawers trying to find anything but coming up empty handed.

"Looking for these?" Anya said, holding up a bag of pills.

"Anya, would you just give them to me?"

"Nope, you're not getting these back, you have a problem"

You turn around anxiously and run your hand through your hair and over your face.

"Anya, I really need some, please"

"No"

You are detoxing and you can't handle it, you run at Anya and snatch the bag out of her hands. You run down the hallway and out the door before she can catch you. You make your way down the dangerous streets of Sunnydale at night, popping pills along the way. You go to the Bronze since you know you can score there. You walk through the door looking terrible and head for your dealer.

"Whoa Y/n, you look like shit!"

"Yeah, I know Ricky. Now do you have anything or not?"

"Always got something for my favourite customer"

He hands you four different coloured pills and you down them all in one go.

"Hey, that's too much you shouldn't take more than one of those an hour or you'll get really messed up"

"That's what I want, Ricky"

"You could die"

"Good"

You go over to the bar and get half a dozen mixed shots and drinks. You do all the shots at once and start chugging the drinks. All you want to do is get away, get away from the people, the town, your feelings, everything. You go back to the dance floor where you see some friends.

"Hey Y/n! Got anything good?"

Your head starts to spin a little and you trip and fall into someone's arms.

"Hey, you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine"

"You don't look fine. Why don't you sit down?"

You decide to take him up on his offer and sit with him while you try and ride out your high a bit. He starts tracing your inner thigh with his fingers.

"W-What are you doing?"

"Sh, sh, sh, just relax, baby"

Before you know it he's on top of you and you're making out. You don't really know what's happening, spots start to cloud your vision. You feel his lips go lower and his fingers go higher. Suddenly you feel him get ripped away and you stare up to see Spike.

"Get up, we're going home"

You try to sit up but you can't even manage that. Spike picks you up and carries you out the door and into his car.

"You know you're an idiot. You should have told me, I would have helped you before you got to this"

"I didn't think I could tell you"

"Why not?"

"I thought you'd tell the others or end up hating me"

"You know I'd never do that"

"Do now"

You get back to his place and he helps you to his room and lies you down in his bed.

"Please don't leave me"

"I won't, pet"

He gets into the bed with you and just holds you for the next few hours, stroking your hair and telling you everything is going to be okay and for the first time since he died you thought it might be.

You wake up in a strange bed hours later, you sat up, very confused before you saw Angel walk in.

"Hey, you feeling any better?"

"What happened?"

"Giles called me, he said they couldn't do anything to help you and he thought I might be able to do something. I went to the Bronze and threw some pig off of you before I brought you back here"

"Where is here?"

"A motel room, just outside of town"

"Spike wasn't there, was he?"

Angel looked at you with a terrible sadness in his eyes. He may have hated Spike but you loved him and he could see the pain in your heart, he remembered what it was like to lose people and he wished you didn't have to go through that.

"No, Y/n, Spike died weeks ago"

"I-I know I just thought he was there"

"Sorry, just me"

"You drove all the way from LA for me?"

"Of course I did, you're my best friend"

Tears start to pour from your eyes and you collapse into Angel's arms. He holds you as you sob, he'll hold you for as long as it takes.

"A-Angel, I can't stay here"

"I know, we can go back to LA whenever you're ready"

"Thank you"

[starscream-is-my-wife]

This is part 1 of a continuation for my other post where LL Megatron gets trapped in the G1 universe, I was thinking about how someone would go insane in this cartoon world and thought "what if Megatron had someone else to accompany him" so, I gave Starscream an existential crisis

Edit: pt 2 here

[ali-mart]

🎶𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯. 𝘏𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘳𝘶𝘯. 𝘈 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘯. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦

Still haunted by sad Cressida & Eloise edit. Still haunted by the tragic storyline that is hers in S3 and her being a lesbian dealing with comphet. So here’s a bit of visual angst to do with that.

[spikedfearn]

I Said Just a Little Bit, Then I Got a Taste of It

Chapter VI

bjorn x fem!reader

summary: After being transferred to another sector of Jackson's Star you reluctantly befriend a ragtag group of people with the exception of one cocky asshole who knows just how to get under your skin.

On the surface, you hate each other, but after experiencing a particularly harrowing event together, the two of you grow closer than anyone else could ever imagine.

a/n: sorry for the major delay on this chapter everyone, I've been juggling a lot privately and professionally but I'll be back to regular updates over the course of the next week <3 also, just broke 20k with this update, woo!! summary for this chapter is: the art of self-sabotage. or, old habits die hard.

warnings: secret friends with benefits, enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol/drug use, nsfw, non-linear narrative, trauma bonding, resolved sexual tension, praise kink (both ways), oral (giving/receiving), loss of virginity, dirty talk, shower sex, falling in love

tags: @asvtrials @urfavhanna @orangebeauty @3arthtoeden @barnes70stark @sadslasher13 (comment if you wanna be notified when a new chapter drops)

wc: 2.8k

Masterlist Next Chapter

How could you let this happen? Be this stupid?

This is exactly what you didn't want, trying your absolute damnedest to bury your feelings for Bjorn deep, deep under the weight of denial and downplay but—you can't, no matter how hard you try.

You're fighting an increasingly losing battle, falling further every time Bjorn comes around, every time he fucks you and holds you in his arms after. Every time he apologizes for whatever mean things he said in front of the others just so he can keep up the appearances you so desperately wanted to uphold. Every time he tucks your hair behind your ear and whispers that everything's going to be alright when nothing about this remotely is.

And you cry every time he leaves, finding it harder and harder to hold it in each time he does, like he's taking another piece of your heart with him every time he goes, crying salt into your pillow as you hug it close to your naked chest in the hours after, until your sobs taper off into pathetic wet sniffles, dehydrated and drained like you’re grieving a loss that hasn’t yet come to fruition.

But it will—and that’s the crux of it isn’t it, because you know in your bones, in your soul that you’ll lose this just like you’ve lost everything else before, because you’ve learned early on that everyone, no matter how much you need them, will always, always, leave in the end.

It’s a tough pill to swallow but then again, the truth always is, so you do what you can to prepare for it, choosing to shatter the illusion of happiness yourself instead of waiting for it all to inevitably come crashing down around you, desperately hoping it won’t hurt as bad when you do.

A decision you come to after another night spent drinking in the quarry, most nights spent together spent drinking, alcohol the only thing that really takes the edge off after an incredibly long and difficult shift.

Slumped back into the camping chair you’re sitting in, the one that you’ve unofficially claimed as yours, you quietly watch the familiar dance of flames everyone was sitting around, finishing off the last of your beer while the others talked and laughed.

You’d been pretty quiet all night, barely contributing anything to the conversations happening around you, too busy in your own head contemplating how to dig yourself out of the hole you’ve found yourself in as you tossed the now empty glass bottle into some nearby bushes.

Usually you'd stop after three, never one to catch anything more than a buzz but tonight, tonight you wanted to get absolutely shit-faced, wanted to shut out all the white noise inside your head, if only for a little while.

So you go to get up, intent on grabbing another drink from the worn down cooler Navarro’s feet were propped up on when Bjorn’s voice made you freeze, asking, “needa refill luv?” from the other side of the pit, head whipping up so hard you almost threw it out.

He must’ve been watching you, had to have been for him to have immediately noticed you were out, your stomach fluttering wildly at the assumption, doing your absolute damnedest not to show it on your face, no matter how badly you want to hiss at Bjorn, “what the fuck are you doing—sit back down!!!” but, you don't. Can't. The words dying in your throat every time you went to say it.

With your eyes glued to him, you watched as he walked around the burning steel drum towards his sister, his shoulders slouched and his chin down, the confident swagger he usually carries himself with gone and been replaced with a level of uncertainty you're not used to, one that helplessly flashes you back to shy blue eyes unable to meet yours just before he sucked on your breasts or stretched you open on his thick fingers.

You squeezed your thighs together, feeling wetness starting to seep between them. Not the time.

Bjorn nudged Navarro’s feet off the cooler lid, totally ignoring the scowl his sister threw at him while her hand was cupped around the dying cherry of her cigarette she was trying to keep from going out, fishing another bottle of aspen beer from the half melted ice in the process.

He came to a stop in front of you, holding the drink out by the glass neck to take, giving a smile meant just for you, so warm it had you burning hotter than the kindling wood behind him as everything briefly dissolved around you, like the entire universe was made up of just you, him, and the space in between, the warmth he was wearing radiating throughout your chest.

It was incredibly tender and brief and all wrong, the moment interrupted when Rain cleared her throat beside you, bringing you crashing back down to reality.

More than enough to make you recoil—hard. The bottle you'd been mid hand off slipping from your grip and shattering onto the pebbled stones between his and your feet, splashing chilled lager across both of your pant legs.

Bjorn had sworn under his breath then, asking you things like, “fuck, ah’ ya alright?” and, “ya’ ain't hurt ah’ ya,’ darlin?’” but you’d barely heard, had tuned it all out as your gaze swung wildly around the lopsided circle your friends were huddled in, all eyes on you.

Whether from the beer or from Bjorn you didn't know—didn't want to know, feeling severely scrutinized under the weight of their collective stare, like they could see right through you, like they knew what you were hiding, causing you to shrink down low into your seat, line of sight trained on the freshly wet gravel as you snapped at Bjorn that you didn't want his fucking handouts.

You could see the lower half of Bjorn’s body go rigid from within your periphery, refusing to look up and meet his eyes, afraid of what you might find, of possibly seeing some of that blossoming affection you’d been feeling mirrored in his icy blues, waiting to let out the shaky exhale you’d been holding until he walked back to his seat.

No one commented on your bizarre little exchange, probably because they knew you were a flight risk, that you’d turn tail and run at the first sign of conflict—like you always did, which is why you forced yourself to stay, not wanting to raise any more questions.

After the bonfire had ended Bjorn, like most nights, found his way back to your apartment, a bit cautious to approach you in your bedroom, probably sensing the sour mood he'd inadvertently put you in, asking for permission to touch while he crawled into your bed to join you.

And now here you are, Bjorn grunting as he thrusts into you once, twice, three more times before he finishes inside the condom buried eight inches deep between your legs, hairline damp from exertion with his bangs sticking to his forehead in sweaty little peninsulas.

He leans down, the cool metal of his dog tags brushing up your bare chest while he does, to plant an incredibly tender kiss to your lips, smiling into it when he feels you reciprocate, going in for a slew of quick pecks the same time he lets go of the leg he’s still holding up, fingers dimpling the back of your thigh.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he grins a little wider, still a bit winded as he tries catching his breath, rolling off of you to lie flat on his back instead, covered in a fresh set of scratches trailing down from his shoulders to the base of his spine.

There's a beat of silence, only punctuated by the mingling of your heavy breathing slowly returning to normal and the systematic tick of your alarm clock on the bedside table next to your head, feeling Bjorn's hand find its way into yours down between your bodies.

Tears start to crease along your waterlines, rapidly fluttering your lashes to try and blink them away, to not draw Bjorn’s attention to how absolutely vulnerable you feel. This was a mistake. A big one. And not just tonight—all of it. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered filthy praise shared between you, closing your eyes for a moment, just long enough for you to work up the nerve and say, “we have to talk,” voice thick with thinly-veiled emotion.

Bjorn perks up at that, rolling onto his side as he sat up on his elbow, cheek resting on a loosely curled fist, the shitty stick and poke of the losing dice frowny face he has tatted on the back of his right hand, one of the many Navarro gave him when he was fifteen and they were both high as a kite while giggling quietly on the floor of his bedroom as to not wake their dad, upside down from this angle.

“Glad ya’ said sumthin’ princess,” he smiles a shy, tiny thing you aren’t used to, fighting the overwhelming urge to back out now, “cuz m’ pretty sure I feel tha’ same.”

You seriously doubt that, your suspicion sadly confirmed when he confesses, “I think m’ fallin’ fo’ ya,’” the same time you say, “I think we should stop seeing each other.”

More silence, except—this one says a hell of a lot more.

Your throat goes tight and painful, like you just swallowed shards of glass and poured salt into the resulting wounds, watching the smile on his face quickly dissolve, replaced by a pinched frown and the confused furrow of his eyebrows, sitting all the way up to stare down at you.

“Wha’?” He asks, so small and fragmented it feels like a knife stab to the chest having to hear it. Fuck, you knew it was going to sting,that you were in too deep by the time you realized you were falling for him, but you didn't expect it to hurt this bad, like you want to take it all back but you don't—you can’t, for your sake and his.

“I said,” you push through the acute ache, disguising your tone with something harsher, something hurtful, “we should stop seeing each other. It's just—not working out anymore.”

“M’ sorry but where in tha’ bloody fuck is this all comin’ from? I thought things wuz’ good between us,” he argues, using his hand to gesture between your body and his as you sit up against the headboard, pulling your blanket up over your chest so you aren't so exposed.

“Well, you were wrong. We just—we aren't meant for each other. We're only hooking up out of convenience and you know it,” you reinforce, unable to meet his eyes head on, just like the quarry, gaze trained on the worn comforter by his naked thigh.

Still, you're able to catch a glimpse of the confusion on Bjorn's face morph into utter annoyance, snapping at you to, “cut tha’ shit already.”

“Excuse me?” You bristle immediately, letting your anger temporarily eclipse your pain so you don't break down in front of him, “fuck you if you think I'm lying.”

“Oh, m’ sorry if m’ havin’ a hard time believin’ ya, but ya’ can't jus’ fake tha’ kinda chemistry. I'm willin’ ta’ bet it all on black ya’ felt it jus’ as much as I did.”

You can see desperation bleed into his eyes, hear it seep into his words, wavering like he's not so sure anymore but still trying to convince himself that he's right—and he is, you know in your bones that he is but he doesn't need to know that, muttering back, “what the fuck do you even know.”

His nostrils flare as a result, clearly offended by your statement, leaning in on his palm, fingers spread over your sweaty, wrinkled bed sheets, his gaze firmly transfixing itself on you, “‘scuze me? Ah’ ya’ tryna be daft on purpose?” not giving you any room to respond before he continues on.

“Listen—I can't speak fo’ ya,’ but I know wha’ I fuckin’ feel. D’ya really fuckin’ think I wanna feel like this?! Tha’ I wanted this ta’ happen? Course fuckin’ not. I don't get close ta’ people tha’ ain't mah’ family but then you. Ya’ came along an’—I neva’ intended ta’ get ta’ know ya’ at all. Yeah I thought ya’ wuz a total smokeshow when I first laid mah’ eyes on ya’ but I figured ya’ wouldn't stick around long with how bloody standoffish ya’ were, always lookin’ like ya' didn't wanna be there

“But then ya’ did. Ya’ did an’ we almost fuckin’ died so I opened up ta’ ya’ figurin’ we wuz both gonnas’ then ya’ let me touch ya.’ Let me inside ya,’ an’ I couldn't stop fuckin’ replayin’ it in mah' head tha’ night I slept ova’ at Kay an’ Tyler's. Had ta’ rub one out in tha’ bathroom an’ bite down on mah’ fuckin' fist like a hormonal tweener. I woulda been embarrassed if I wuzn't so fuckin' turned on.

“So I had ta’ go back fo’ a round two, see if it wuz jus’ a fluke but once I was fuckin’ ya again I couldn't stop, I wanted more every time, like a fuckin’ junkie lookin’ fo’ tha’ next fix, no matta’ how hard I tried resistin.’ But then I started ta’ notice otha’ things ‘sides tha’ face ya’ make when I make ya’ pussy weep around mah’ cock an’ ya' sing so pretty fo’ me,” he says, face neutral and tone even despite how hot your cheeks are hearing that.

“Like how carin’ ya' ah’ fo’ tha’ othas’ despite actin’ like ya’ don't. Tha’ ya' had ta’ grow up fas’ as fuck an’ took it out on yaself’ instead o’ lashin’ out like an’ insecure prick. Like me. Tha' I thought I'd neva’ seen someone so fuckin' beautiful in all mah’ life when ya’d fall asleep befo’ me, even when ya’ wuz droolin’ on mah’ chest and snorin’ like one o’ them fuckin' minin’ drills. Tha’ I thought I could listen ta’ ya' horrendous singin’ in tha’ showa’ all day when ya’ woke up befo’ me. Tha’ I wanted ta’ call ya’ mine fo’ a fuckin’ while now.

An’ I know I wuzn't jus’ imaginin’ shit. I might be shit at expressin’ mah’ feelins’ but so ah’ you. Ya’ can’t convince me none o’ it wuz real.”

You consider trying to take it all back, while he’s still giving you an out, feeling like your heart’s been violently ripped out of your chest but you refrain from doing so, choosing to stand your ground, no matter how shaky the earth beneath you feels. You can’t afford to lose someone again, it’ll be better in the long run to ruin it now than to let life steal someone else away when you least expect it, when you can’t possibly handle any more heartbreak.

Finally meeting his eyes you force yourself not to flinch at the intensity of his gaze as they scrutinize you, like he can see right through you, feeling more exposed now than you did when he first got you naked.

“It wasn’t,” you insist, somewhat petulantly.

It’s his turn to roughly swallow at what you say, his confidence visibly waning in the slouch of his shoulders and the way he pulls back a little, the uncertainty of his words when you first confessed making a comeback—much stronger this time but still underscored by a level of defiance like he’s clinging on to some modicum of hope.

“So allat—allat really meant absolutely nuthin’ ta’ ya?’”

You know you have to inflict maximum damage, to crush any chance of making the same mistake twice, finding yourself leaning in like he did earlier to emphasize your point, not deviating away from devastated blue as you hiss, “nothing. Nothing at all.”

And that was all it took, watching how quickly Bjorn turned his back to you while he quietly yanked on his clothes, shoulders shaking in anger, in rejection—in defeat. He's hurting, it's more than obvious by the way his voice shakes, sounding like wet gravel as he croaks at you to, “have a nice fuckin’ life,” before storming out of your apartment, leaving you alone, the silence you once found comfort in when you were on your own bordering on unbearable now.

It's for the best, you reason, it's what needs to happen, you don't need to make this any harder than it already fucking is, finally allowing yourself to break down, as pained sobs rack your body, crying so hard you grab at your chest like you’re trying to open another airway, gasping between each tearful moan.

So, if this is really for the best—then why does it feel like the worst decision you’ve ever made?

[sweeneydino]

How do they find out about spikeangelo being Mikey? Does he tell them or???

Pt.2 lol

He tells them. After a certain adventure with a couple of posers.

[swervesfirstblaster]

if i gained a nickel every time bumblebee is dead and optimus morns him while holding his body or just looking at him i would have many nickels for sure ENOUGH OF THAT PLEASE 😭

[bloomfish]

It's so weird that in angel s5e2 they do a little flashback to Spike's blaze of glory moment in the last episode of Buffy... but they leave out Buffy saying "I love you". It's such a blatant omission, the ONLY omission from that scene, that it feels totally deliberate and kind of dishonest. Considering a lot of the Spike and Angel moments in S5 revolve around their jealousy and rivalry towards each other, and a LOT of that is to do with Buffy like... Why would you leave it out? It's a pretty big moment for Spike's character in general.

As far as I recall they don't even mention it, they just mention the fact that Spike and Buffy have had a lot of sex compared to bangel's ONE disastrous time (that they remember) but it does kind of cheapen it for Spike. A big motivation for him not leaving LA could have been him not wanting to hold Buffy to her words, since he clearly doesn't believe that she loves him (even though she does, as per Whedon). He presumably thinks she only said that to make him feel better in his final moments, because she wouldn't have to actually follow through on her words. Which is sad. But it makes much more sense as a motivation than the weird 'it cheapens my moment of glory' excuse like since when does spike give a shit about that

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

I've Got You

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 25. Betrayal, "How could you?" Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, f!reader Summary: A night at The Hard Deck takes a dire turn when you realize someone has slipped something into your drink. As the drugs begin kicking in, you turn to your pilot for help. Word Count: 2326 TW: Reader is Hangman's Backseater, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Drugged, Spiked Drink, Betrayal, Jake Carries Reader, Fighting, Implied Future Sexual Assualt, Language, NOT ALL TWs LISTED READ AT OWN RISK  Notes: Thank you to @ohtobeleah for looking this over 💕 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

For the third time, you jammed your fingers down your throat trying to expel whatever drug had entered your system into the toilet in front of you. Yet as hard as you tried, nothing else was coming up. You collapsed sideways and dragged yourself over to the back wall. There, wedged between the toilet and the side of the stall, you tried to figure out what to do next. Your head was growing foggier by the minute and your body was becoming so heavy that it was a struggle to even lift your hand or hold your head up. 

Using what little strength you had left, you dug your phone out of your pocket, and, with it lying on the floor beside you, you typed the words “help. bathroom. now.” into your last text chat and pressed send. Then all the tension left your body as you slumped limply against the toilet.

You had no idea how long you waited like that, but eventually, you heard a soft knock at the stall door. “Sunshine? You in here?”

“Jake…”

That was all he needed to hear. You only ever called him Jake when you were being one hundred percent serious or the situation was dire. There was a second of silence before the door smashed open, the lock shattering as the full force of Hangman’s foot slammed into the door. He looked around before he noticed you wedged in the corner. His eyes grew wide and his tanned skin paled in the fluorescent lighting as he dropped to his knees in front of you. 

“Oh my god…” He grabbed your chin between his fingers and tilted your head to get a better look at your eyes. “Your pupils are huge. What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

“Drink…” You swallowed and tried to claw your way out of the darkness you were slipping into. “S-someone put something in my drink.”

“Fuck…” Jake muttered, glancing over his shoulder. Then, his attention returned to you as he leaned in, his beer-scented breath breezing across your face. “Who were you drinking with? Sunny, stay with me.” He gently slapped your cheeks to get you to open your eyes. “Who was it?”

You tried to think but the fog rolling through your mind made it hard to focus. Finally, you recalled, “Frogger. Frogger and Screwball.”

“Okay, good.” Jake ran his hand up and down your arm, trying to keep you awake. “We need to let Penny know and have her call the cops. And probably the MPs. I won’t let them get away with this.”

“Thank…you…” you muttered, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of your lips. For the first time since you realized what was happening, you felt safe.

“I’m not gonna let someone mess with my backseater, now am I? Only I’m allowed to do that,” Jake smiled back, ruffling your hair. Then he placed his arms under your arms and legs and lifted your limp body off the floor. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Now, let’s get outta here.”

With your head carefully tucked against his chest, Jake carried you from the bathroom. Your eyes were half-lidded and your vision was still tinged with darkness but at least it wasn’t getting worse and you were no longer fighting to remain awake with everything in you. You were still having trouble moving your limbs or lifting your head, however, it didn’t matter as you were safely gathered in Jake’s arms. 

As soon as Jake walked into the main room of the bar, Penny noticed the two of you and gasped. Tossing her bar rag onto her shoulder, she hurried to Jake’s side, placing her hand on your cheek as she asked, “Oh my god! Is she alright?”

“She will be. But you need to call the cops.” Jake nodded towards the end of the bar where Frogger and Screwball were still sitting next to your empty seat. “Those two bastards spiked her drink.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Seresin?” Frogger demanded, sliding off his bar stool as his face grew red. “We didn’t do anything to her! We were just flirting a little.”

Screwball looked like a deer caught in headlights as he glanced from Frogger to you and back to Frogger. “Frog—”

“Shut up,” the other pilot growled under his breath. Then, turning back to Jake, he said, “I don’t care what the bitch says, we didn’t touch her or her fucking drink. You’re not pinning this on us. I’m not going down for something I didn’t do.”

“You were the only ones with her since she got her drink,” Penny snapped, her hands on her hips. “And I sure as hell didn’t drug her when I served her.” 

Screwball jumped off his chair and took off for the door, but before he could get more than a few steps, Rooster, Coyote, and Payback blocked his way. All three men had at least four inches and twenty pounds on the small pilot and they all looked out for blood after an attack on one of their own. 

Screwball whirled around and pointed a trembling finger at Frogger. “It had to be him! I just wanted to play some darts but he’s the one who insisted we chat up Sunshine. He has to be the one that did it!”

“You son of a bitch!” 

Frogger turned and launched himself at Screwball, knocking both men to the floor. Before anyone could react, Frogger began pummeling Screwball in the face as he yelled, “Take it back, you fucking traitor! I didn’t do it!” 

The three pilots who had been guarding the door dove into the fray and pulled Frogger off Screwball even as he continued kicking and cursing. Screwball curled into a ball and sobbed, alternating between cries of pain and cries of his innocence. 

Penny had momentarily vanished in the scuffle but reappeared back at your side with her phone and a water bottle that she held out to you. “Here, honey, drink this. It’ll help flush whatever they gave you out of your system.”

With her help, you took a few big sips out of the bottle, spilling some of it down your shirt. However, the cool water felt refreshing on your feverish skin and you relaxed into Jake’s arms with a sigh. 

Penny smiled, tucking the water bottle between your arm and Jake’s chest. Then she dialed 911 and waited for someone to answer. Glancing at Jake, she asked, “Should I have them send an ambulance too?”

“No, it’s okay.” Jake shifted you slightly so he had a better hold on you, then began heading towards the bar’s exit. “I’ll take her to the hospital, make sure she’s alright.” 

“Thank you, Jake,” Penny smiled, the phone still up to her ear. Pointing at him as Bob held the door open, Penny added, “All your drinks are on the house for the next month.” 

“I’m gonna make you regret that,” Jake chuckled, then he carried you out into the night.

It was a short walk across the parking lot to his truck. Once there, Jake settled you into the passenger seat before walking around to the driver’s side and climbing in, placing your water bottle in the cup holder. When he started the engine, he cracked your window so you could get a little breeze then he pulled out of the parking lot. 

Between throwing up, the cool night air in your face, and the water Penny gave you, you were starting to feel more alert. The world around you was still swimming slightly, but you were able to sit up and lift your head. 

Jake must have noticed because he grinned as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes. “Hey there, Sunshine. How you feeling?”

“Better,” you mumbled, blinking a few times to try and clear your vision. Smiling softly at him, you said, “Thank you, Hangman. I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.”

“It’s what I do, Sunny,” Jake said. “I’m your pilot. I’ve always got your best interest in mind.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, leaning your head back against the door to get more air. “I guess you do.”

The two of you drove in silence for a few minutes and you were just about to drift off when you realized where you were. Sitting up, you asked, “Wait, I thought you were taking me to the hospital. Wasn’t that the turn?”

Jake shrugged. “Yeah, but they are doing construction down that road. I can turn up here.” He grabbed the open water bottle Penny had given you out of the cup holder and held it out to you. “Here. Drink some more of this. It’ll help.”

Taking it from him, you downed it in one gulp. You didn’t register the bitter sting on your tongue until after you had swallowed yet you recognized it immediately as the same taste that had initially alerted you that something was wrong back at the bar. But you had drunk half the water bottle when Penny first gave it to you without noticing anything off. Which could only mean…

Slowly, you raised your eyes to look at your pilot, the man you trusted with your life on a daily basis. “You wouldn’t…”

A smug grin spread across Jake’s face as he continued to stare at the road in front of him. “You know…I was so sure you had figured out it was me when I got your text. I thought you noticed me slipping the drug into your drink when I came up to the bar to grab my beer and that the game was over before it really even began. But then when I looked at you, huddled there on that disgusting floor looking so pathetic, I realized things had gone better than I hoped. I knew you’d tell someone what happened—probably Phoenix or Bob—then I’d step up to drive you to the hospital. I just never imagined I’d be the one you went to for help. Not when we weren’t on the clock.”

Tears slipped down your face, your voice quivering as you whispered, “How could you?”

“Come on, Sunshine. We both know you’ve been teasing me for months now, just begging me to make a move. Like I wouldn’t notice that perfume you’ve been wearing just for me? How I catch that faint trace of it in the cockpit when you shift in your seat behind me? Or how you always tie the arms of your flight suit around your waist when we’re going through after-training checks, showing off those perky breasts beneath that thin white tank top? Bending over in front of me rubbing that perfect ass in my face? You know how many times I’ve almost pinned you to the side of our plane and had my way with you? But no. You wanted to play the game, so I played the game. Now I’ve won, I’ve got you, and I’m ready for my prize.”

Horrified, all you could do was stare at this stranger with your pilot’s face. This was not the Jake Seresin you had been flying with for the past six months. The one who would flirt with almost any woman who crossed his path, yes, but who would never cross the line or hurt anyone…or so you thought.

Even as your body began to go slack in your seat as this new round of drugs kicked in, you tried to reason with him. “Jake, I’m sorry if I ever gave you the wrong impression, but I don’t want this. I-I was just doing my job. I wasn’t trying to tease you or lead you on. And it’s not too late. P-Please, stop this now and we’ll just forget everything that happened tonight.”

“Oh, I know you will.” Jake’s grin took on a sinister edge as the shadows between street lights flashed across his face. “That’s the best part of this drug. You won’t remember any of this in the morning.”

“What?” you breathed, a whole new level of terror settling in at this revelation. 

“But don’t worry, Sunny,” Jake purred as he turned into the driveway of a house you vaguely recalled visiting once to pick up some paperwork he forgot to file. “That just means we can play this game over and over and over again.”

He threw the truck into park and jumped out. A second later, your door opened and you tumbled out into his arms. Before in the bar, Jake had carried you so carefully, making sure you were positioned comfortably in his arms. There was no care or regard for your comfort this time. Now, he placed his arm under your knees and shoulders, letting your head hang down loosely and making the world turn upside down as he lugged your body around like a lifeless sack. 

Whatever he stuck in the water bottle must have been slightly different from what he gave you in the bar because while you couldn’t even manage to turn your head or lift your finger, your head wasn’t swimming like before and your vision was clear. 

Tears rolled up your face and up into your hair as Jake carried you up the driveway towards his front door. You were too weak to call out or struggle against him and, once he got you inside his house, you knew there was nothing to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to you. 

As he opened the door, you silently prayed that what he said earlier was true. While you knew you needed to know what happened tonight to recognize the monster hiding behind the toothpick and perfect smile you saw in the seat in front of you every day, you didn’t want to remember a second of what he was about to do to you.

Jake stepped into the darkness of his house and the door slammed behind you.

[roselynnthornwood]

"Alive Again"

Buffy hadn’t felt alive since she’d been raised from the dead— until now. The cool marble against her back, the night air raising goosebumps over her bare skin, Spike’s hard body against her and inside her, all worked together to awaken that dim spark of life within her, just for a moment. His fingers indulged that post-slay down-low tickle Faith could never get her to admit to, bringing her as close to heaven as she could get. Well, unless those teeth nibbling adoringly at her neck decided they wanted more…but that wouldn’t be so bad, Buffy thought. Would it?

Find the author everywhere upon the Internet!

Art by @dreadart

Support her and buy prints on Patreon!

[spuffyarchive]

Giving Thanks by stuffandnonsense [NC-17]

Season 6 Thanksgiving with Buffy and Dawn's aunts. Missing scenes between Wrecked and Gone, so canon with all that that entails.

[just-animaxiz]

WHEN WILL I BE ENOUGH FOR HIM?!

WHEN WILL I BE ENOUGH FOR EVERYONE?!

HOW WILL I BE ENOUGH AND YET I HAVE TO FORGET ALL OF THIS BY THE TIME I'M DONE?!

...

Hrgh...

How will I know...? If I'm still the Ninja?

....

....

You're still a Ninja.

But you're always enough, kid.

You're Randy Cunningham.

Not anyone else.

---

Enjoy this bit of Randy and Spike moment with Randy breaking down due to his double life and Spike comforting him, seeing himself in Randy's eyes.

[kythecorg]

I would like to point out that he has grown significantly in the matter of a month and is in fact, an angsty teen. Whether his feistiness is due to that or something ELSE entirely…is “yet to be determined”….

hehehe 🤭

[amongaesthetics]

So, spooky season means spooky show rewatching, and thoughts about said spooky shows.

I need someone to agree with me that The Vampire Diaries took their archetypes from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Like, nobody can convince me that Stefan is not supposed to be Angel (when normal he’s the height of morality, but secretly has a darker side that gets out of control and dangerous). And that Damon is not supposed to be Spike (wild, does what he wants when he wants, but falls in love deep and hard because behind the murder and mayhem, he’s a romantic at his core).

I also love that someone looked at Angel and Spike and said “ah, torture and falling in love with the same girl, that’s sibling behavior” which I am HERE for.

Other thoughts on TVD:

- all the past doppelgängers of Elena and Stefan are doomed to fall in love and then die miserably, so really we should be thanking Damon for being a meddling girlfriend stealer since without him everybody else would literally die in season 2/3 (he was the problem in season 1)

- Stefan loved Elena, but I think he was more happy that Damon would fight him for her than he was upset about it. The whole series Stefan loved Damon, and for a good while he wanted to find humanity in Damon and ground him in that. Damon loving Elena proved that humanity to Stefan, which is why Stefan only really got upset when he lost Elena.

- Spike is still better than Damon, but I find Stefan a more fully fleshed out character than Angel (at least in the Buffy series) since in Buffy Angel was literally “I’m tortured and love you and have your back but I’m a vampire and I hate that and I used to be suu-ccchh a bad person but don’t look at other guys” and it felt like he was almost too tall dark and mysterious most of the time. Stefan at least we follow and hear the monologue and thoughts and hopes of.

- ALSO Angel/Stefan are the reason Spike/Damon even are vampires? And Angel/Stefan want their soul/humanity back because of how bad they are as a vampire and miss being human or good, but Spike/Damon get their soul/humanity back because they’re in love with a girl and want to be that for her (which, yeah, motivated by love, checks out).

- Spike/Damon start off as a spunky villain that make legit threats but bond with the main girl the most when trying to stop Angel/Stefan. Like, I can’t make this up and there’s so much overlap.

[hydrogen-jukebox]

rick sanchez is like the blorbo of all time. very few people watch rick and morty for the lore so of course nobody understands him like you do. there are potentially infinite multiversal versions of him so you can make your own to project onto. and the actual one is already a poor little meow meow so you can just torture him if you don't feel like doin all that

[sweeneydino]

How do the turtles take discovering the identity of spikeangelo?

Hint: 87 turtles.

Yw.

[my-hybrid-moments]

hey tumblr!!!

i've been so bored recently and looking to get back into writing a bit

what i'll write:

fluff 🩷

smut ❤️‍🔥

angst 🖤

dating headcanons 🩵

literally anything as long as i'm chill w it

people/fandoms i'll write for:

jackass (johnny k, bam m, ryan d, chris p, spike j) (PLEASE request spike i <3 him sm)

beetlejuice (musical bj/alex b, film adam, barbara) (will NOT write bj x lydia bc ew)

blink 182 (tom d, mark h, travis b)

james mcavoy + characters

marvel (mcu, x-men etc)

hazbin hotel (adam, sir pentious)

andy samberg + characters

mcfly (danny j, dougie p, tom f, harry j)

honestly anything as long as i have a vague idea of who/what it is and i'm chill w it

will be posting some stuff soon !!!