#on my way to fuck your bitch
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absolutely insane that mike literally p a n i c k e d when will was like "well what about us?" because will wasn't even really making things gay he was honest to god just inquiring about the state of their estranged friendship and wondering why mike didn't make time to talk to him when they're supposed to be best friends but MIKE was the one having an aneurysm like "🏳️🌈⁉️ W H AT!!"
“WE'RE FRIENDS” “i know mike” “WE'RE!!! F R I E N D S!!” “right so why don't you call me — ” “I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND” “… that in no way answers my question"
#stranger things#byler#queer mike wheeler#mike acts gayer in this scene than will who is canonically gay is all i'm saying#and while we're at it...#what the fuck is the “it's not my fault you don't like girls” scene#the way mike is visibly devastated after will's like “yeah i did think we'd just hang out in your basement forever and it would be enough”#maybe because he realised he was forcing himself not to also feel like it was enough me thinks??? he was trying to be “normal”?#and then he immediately feels guilty and bikes in the goddamn rain to apologise like bitch what is this shit? the notebook?#meanwhile his girlfriend is fully mad at him and he's laying around eating chips and burping and laughing and complaining about women#and doing nothing to apologise to her LMAO????#mike wheeler what are you doing king. the people want to know#anyway i'm once again deep in my queer mike theorising#don't let me down duffers i s2g#eve text
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I need to cleanse my brain after seeing such terrible takes on Arthur
People genuinely think at the core of their being and his that he is just an asshole who doesn't think Merlin is brave
(yet 5 minutes later drops everything because he has a dream or vision or whatever he thinks it was of Merlin and trusts him implicity to change their tactics at Camlann)
Like FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT I beg ya not to just get on the arthurs an ass train
YES he can be an ass and a prat but he is so much more so fucking much more than that and he loves Merlin to death (not even talking shipping here)
and if you can't see that and take his snarky or rude or hurtful things as gospel whilst being blind to the fact he was hurt when he said it AND DIDN'T FUCKING MEAN IT then there is no hope for you
#merlin#merthur#arthur pendragon#fuck Im so pissed off now lmaoo#one of my faves scenes and all they can say is BuT hE wAs So RuDeaFTeRwradS#BITCH DID HE STUTTER???!!#HE SAID MERLIN WAS THE BRAVEST MAN HE EVER MET#AND HE MEANT IT#FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF WITH YOUR TERRIBLE TAKE
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I genuinely cannot describe how deeply DEVASTATED I am about riz being the only one who can take stress tokens for the others. Yes fig is a protector and will fight endlessly for her friends and I love that about her but there is something about the way riz loves his friends. It’s a more subtle kind of love, but just as relentless and passionate and he will take any burden for the people he cares about and bear the weight of it on his shoulders so they don’t have to deal with it without any hesitation. I am ILL.
#the way that murph immediately volunteered to take a stress token for Kristen without skipping a beat#AND THEN HE TOOK A FUCKING SECOND ONE WHEN THEY STILL ROLLED BAD#something something you will dig until your own hands are bleeding something something#god that quote still haunts me I will never stop thinking about it I swear to god#he works so hard#and he doesn’t ever ask for any recognition or anything in return because just helping is enough#making sure the people he loves are okay is enough for him#this stupid little goblin man makes me want to throw up /pos#he just cares so deeply for everyone around him#i love him so dearly#my silly little fella#dimension 20#fantasy high#d20#riz gukgak#fantasy high junior year#OH AND DONT FUCKING THINK FOR A SECOND THAT IM NOT GONNA TALKING ABOUT GORGUG MOTHERFUCKING THISTLESPRING. BECAUSE THIS BITCH /aff#he’s going to have so many stress tokens by the end of this it’s so unfunny and it is making me unwell#I just. I just want them all to be okay and happy and not stressed and GODS they all need a fucking hug#they’re all traumatized and stressed and stupid and silly and I love them all so so much#eats them#puts them in a blender#throws them into a washing machine and watches them spin around#sobs violently#I’m so ill about them#sorry for the rant#i will be back#and I will talk more I’m not actually sorry that’s mb#the tags are like a whole ass paragraph of text but that’s okay#i just think they're neat
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I love this scene so much, ruby really did NOT hesitate in immediately taking that missile down. she really said oh you can TRY to hurt my partner just watch this.
like i love her expression in this, the way this goes from being just annoyed or upset; this girl is genuinely pissed with cordovin, because for one, she's being completely unreasonable about this matter, and secondly, i mean, she tried to shoot at weiss and maria.
(also ruby appreciation here; this girl sniped a moving missile out of the air like????)
and because i am whiterose trash, here is bonus ruby and weiss after weiss safely gets off the ship and is on ground with ruby.
look at this dork i love her sm. the second she's reunited with weiss and knows that weiss is safe; look at that smile.
(also pls don't mind weiss's expression)
#rwby#rwby volume 6#rwby cordovin#idk what the rest of her name is so#ruby rose#weiss schnee#whiterose#white rose#ruby x weiss#i love your honor#they're so adorable#they give me life#they are so gay#and i want them to end up together man#whiterose shippers were well fed in volume 6 ngl#also weiss appreciation for immediately saving everyone's asses while jumping out of a moving vehicle#OKAY BUT THE SMILE#LOOK AT THE BEFORE AND AFTER#the little face of “god my partner is so cool”#adn the goofy expression afterwards#and how when she snipes the missile#there is the look of#fuck around and find out bitch i dare you#there is something about the way ruby and weiss look at each other that gets to me
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man
#maybe im being pessimistic abt this. im not saying u should wear a mask every waking moment of your life god knows i cant#but also. hell no i dont trust u if anything i distrust u ppl even more after how things played out for the past 3 years#like there are situations where it might be inevitable catching covid. most of my family members are nurses and in constant contact#but there are also a ton of ways to make that risk low as possible like masking and wearing a face shield and having sanitizer#for me its not enough to just say oh we're in a small group and we're all vaccinated#motherfucker your kid is sick from preschool EVERY TIME WE VISIT. of course ill be wearing a mask she gave me covid last year#also no the fuck it isnt seasonal the cases go up because lack of caution makes the virus spread and mutate especially around times when#ppl gather. add that with virus transmission in cold weather and its a matter of different factors increasing the risk of spread#im also tired of ppl not understanding that i wont be their responsibility if i do get sick. maybe they can help me recover#but at the end of the day the risk of death and long term health is all on me. i cant change that#the govt barely gives me accommodations what makes u think theyll do anything for every individual case of long covid or worse#im so tired. im so tired#i dont even know if its possible to want this to be over anymore i just wish we didnt have to deal with this in the first place#ALSO COUGH INTO YOUR SLEEVE SERIOUSLY HOW IS THIS SO HARD TO REMEMBER#oh its just a cold/dry throat its not like i have covid or anything. no!! its basic hygiene!!! how is this so hard to understand!!!!!!!!!!#and no this isnt abt whether people have the means to protect themselves this is me bitching abt my relatives not taking me seriously#vent#my art#myart#doodles#covid 19
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((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))
“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞
From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa
anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)
Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence
15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”
When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed.
Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.
He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay?
But, uh. Let’s back up a little.
—
Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.
He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air.
Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.
So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.
With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.
"What's going on here?"
The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.
"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.
“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.
The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.
“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”
“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”
Tim stops in his tracks.
“Forty-eight—?”
“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”
Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive.
Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front.
Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.
It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.
Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—
And then Tim thinks about the call.
The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later.
He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.
“Today,” he repeats.
She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”
"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."
—
He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.
Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.
Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.
Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.
He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.
As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.
“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”
The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.
“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”
“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.
“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”
“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.
“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”
“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”
—
The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape.
He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.
He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.
By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.
“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”
He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this.
Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.
Fuck it.
He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.
Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’— which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.
Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.
He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.
Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—
And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.
“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”
He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.
—
Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.
See, here’s the thing.
The thing is, he has options.
He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down).
He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.
And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.
No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.
With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:
“Hand over your wallet!”
He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.
Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.
Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.
The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.
“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”
The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.
“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”
The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”
Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight.
His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.
“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”
“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.
Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.
“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”
Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.
“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.
Tim blinks. So do the muggers.
He knows that voice.
“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.
Everything happens pretty quickly after that.
Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.
Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes—
Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.
Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop.
So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.
Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.
“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”
Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.
Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”
Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.
Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.
“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.
Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.
“Yeah. Had.”
So much for the League, Tim muses.
Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror.
“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”
Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”
Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.
“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed.
God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way.
“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”
—
They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.
“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”
“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”
Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”
“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”
“Again. Fucking ew.”
“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”
“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”
Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”
Jason thwacks him upside the head.
“Ow! What the fuck?”
“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”
“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”
“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.
Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”
Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.
“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”
Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.
Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.
“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”
Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”
Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.
“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”
“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”
The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.
Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.
“Jason—!”
“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”
“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”
“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”
“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.
“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”
The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.
“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”
Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.
Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.
“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”
“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.
“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.”
Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.
“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”
He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.
And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.
He knows, okay?
“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”
“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”
Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.
And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to.
But he still means it.
“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”
The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.
“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.
The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.
But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.
Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”
Jason’s grin is electric.
He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.
Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—
—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.
“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”
“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.
“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”
Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch.
The kiss is— bad. At first.
Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.
Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.
Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.
“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.
“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”
Tim is already asleep.
#one hundred thousand years have passed#i creak up out of the soil gasping and hacking and coughing#'i lived bitch'#'have some jaytim that grew legs on me'#my writing#asked and answered#jaytim#ladytauria#hurt/comfort#this one is sillier and more light-hearted than the other ones#the hurt is more like 'near tears travel exhaustion' than your typical aftermath of violence lol but it so definitely counts#i held a gun to the head of the muse that said 'this is way too short' and pulled the fucking trigger#i KNOW it's a very fast get together but i did Not want this to become my next 5 digit wordcount fic okay. okay. oka#the bones of a long 'tim and jason vs the league of assassins' fic is hiding here#and if i actually wrote that this would have ended much differently#but i am Not Writing That okay I am Writing Cowboys and also Werewolves Right Now. I Do Not Have Time For This!!!!!!#prompt fill
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craving validation from exactly the wrong person. slay
#bpd#actually bpd#bpd thoughts#bpd feels#bpd vent#bpd mood#girl you can't just do this every time you want to talk to someone and they don't read your mind and text you#how to explain to people that i am not just insane in love relationships i'm insane about everyone i know and they are not an exception#baby i have wild and insane platonic abandonment issues too (friends with that guy again but we will absolutely never be as close as before)#codependent best friendship where other person gets pissy and decides not to be my friend all the time#losing my best friend over and over#sometiems bc i was being a bitch but sometimes bc i shared too much about my mental health or said the wrong thing#never knowing what the emotional support threshold is or what the new wrong thing could be#and i was insane and way too attached like codependence has such a nasty side when it's not mutual anymore#and i'm WORKING ON SHIT and taking my favorite people off their pedestals and blah blah blah#anyway guess that still has me fucked up
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With credit towards @jhaernyl who shared some fantastic doctor/surgeon humor with me that ended up leading to.....
The ZoLaw AU No One Asked For...
Where Law is a surgeon on some small Northern Island.
Recently Transfered Nurse Sabo: Excuse me, sir, there is a man here? Roronoa Zoro. He's apparently suffered a small injury.
Law: *sighs* Let me guess, that loudmouthed robot made him come in.
Nurse Sabo: No, he-
Law: Robo-ya's wife then. At least one of them is sensible.
Sabo: He came alone, sir, said he was training and suddenly felt something was off balance. I couldn't -
Law: *Going completely still*
Law: *Turning and grabbing the poor new trainee by the shoulders* QUICK! Answer me this: did he finish his training?
Sabo: Err, no, he said he was worried and he came right in so-
Law: BEPO GRAB THE CRASH CART! WE HAVE A CODE GREEN!!!
Law rooming down the whole hospital.
Law: WE CANT LET HIM GET AWAY HE IS SERIOUSLY INJURED *Pointing dramatically as Shachi and Penguin nod to one another, both grab jing gurneys and blocking off the ER exit*
Zoro: *Raising an eyebrow, though also still suspiciously holding onto his arm* Honestly, Torao it was no big deal, I feel fine now.
Law: *sighs* Zoro-ya... *looking down at the floor.*
*....And there is just a trail of blood on the floor leading to Zoro who is holding into his arm which he has (roughly) bandaged on.*
Zoro: What?
Law: .... Zoro-ya, give me your arm. Now.
Zoro: Torao, I told you, its fine, I just needed some ba-
Law: Give. Me. Your. Arm.
Zoro: Tch *hands over his stupid traitor arm*
Trainee Nurse Rebecca: *passes out cold*
Law: Zoro-ya, what has Law said about cutting off your own limbs!?
Zoro: But you always fix it and it was easier than-
Law: That's not the point Zoro-ya! You can't just cut off limbs whenever it's easy!
Sabo: So are they always like this?
Older HCA Ikkaku, who is used to these idiots: *holds out popcorn bucket to share*
No words. Her show is on.
Sabo: But none of the TVs are-Ooooh
HCA Ikkaku: I said shhh!
Ikkaku: Roronoa just mentioned Doctor Trafalgar just being sour over Zoro's ankle stitches. That ALWAYS leads to drama.
2nd HCA aka Perona: *appearing from nowhere to grab a handful of popcorn* Doctor Trafalgar hates those scars. Everyone in the hospital - depth, probably the whole town - knows as much. Law doesn't exactly make it a secret.
Like catching someone up on a your favorite long running television show.
Only its live and one of the people is holding a detached bloody arm.
Ikkaku: *ignoring the wide eyes stare from young nurse* Ooh, Looks like Roronoa is going to let him attach it.
Perona: *giggling* Doctor Trafalgar is gonna give him such a hard time! Horohoro, I'll bet he wouldn't even call for the anesthesiologist!
Law: AND DON'T BOTHER GETTING CESEAR! WE'RE DOING THIS NOW!
Ikkaku: Yo, new guy, stop just standing around and get your pal there off the floor.
Perona: And hurry up, we doesn't want to miss when Roronoa finally smiles. Doctor Trafalgar goes bright red! It's SOOO cute! 💕
She's right, too, as anyone whose worked there long enough will attest. It's the best part of the whole show.
The trainee and new transfer are not sure about all this, but the employees who have worked there awhile seem to be.... enjoying it?
Law: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, IDIOT!? WHAT IF I WASN'T HERE TODAY!? AND DON'T JUST ACT LIKE IT WAS A MINOR PAIN!!!
Zoro: Hey! Last time, when Robin made me come (damn noisy witch) and I showed the lady what was wrong, she passed out and you got all-
Law: Because you can't just show our poor check in team a gaping chest wound, Zoro-ya!
Law: *eyebrow twitching* Still! You're supposed to mention when you've CUT OFF YOUR OWN ARM!
It doesn't seem fair for Torao is getting so upset with him, especially since this time Zoro came in without even being made to. Oh, and he knew it wouldn't be a problem! Torao is the best surgeon in the world, Zoro knew he'd be able to fix him.
Sure enough.....
Zoro: Oye, Torao! Look at that! It's good as new! *Bright, sharp smile* See, ai knew there was a reason we kept you around!
Law: *immediately frozen*
HCA Ikkaku: *nudges nurse* Wait for it...
Law: *frozen*
HCA Perona: *holding onto the trainee Nurse too tightly, eyes wide* Here it comes....
Law: *whole face turns bright pink, pulling his surgery mask up as if hiding* Whatever you idiot! Now, stop getting yourself hurt! I'm not sewing on any other limbs for another month at least, I swear!
Zoro: You are the best, Torao *smile getting even brighter*
Perona: 💕 Ahh, aren't they so cute? 💕
Rebecca: Are they?
Sabo: Or are they just scary?
Zoro: *still with that sharp smile as he twists his arm, practicing all his sword moves. Absolutely glowing with pride* Not even a scar, doc. You really are the best.
Law: Of course I didn't leave a scar! I'm not some useless sack of flesh like that Hogsback asshole. I would never leave you with an unwanted mark.
Zoro: *still studying his arm, smile becoming softer, warmer* You know... I wouldn't mind a little mark. So long as it was from you.
And Law's mask gets pulled up so high he's practically got his eyes covered.
(It's both.)
(They're both adorable and scary.)
#I don't want to alarm anyone#but there is more of this#like a good amount more#there's a whole scene with Law bitching out Mihawk for his training being too dangerous#Zoro almost fights Shanks for a comment he makes about Law('s ass)#oh theres so much more drama on the way#one piece#one piece modern au#roronoa zoro#trafalgar d. water law#trafalgar law#zolaw#the zolaw au nobody asked for#doctor trafalgar law#just a small northern island#with one sexy temple guard#look sometimes its just easier to remove the limb knowing your crew will sew it back on when your done#Law: Zoro-ya who the fuck taught you this!?#my writing#I'm gonna call it.....#North Blue Anatomy#part one#one piece perona#my perona#revolutionary sabo#one piece sabo#ikkaku one piece#rebecca one piece#Zoro's smile melts Law's cold northern heart#certainly doesn't do anything to “melt” his hard on though
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the thing that scares me most about tiktok getting banned is the slight chance they migrate to tumblr and tumblr live is reinstated
#no how would i cope listening to people around me ask for my tumblr so casually#like no bitch don't say it#this isn't tiktok this is crazy bitch tube#you are NOT getting my tumblr#IMAGINE IF THEY DO THE 'find your contacts!' THING#I WOULD NOT SURVIVE#bc no way in hell am i making my acc private (it's not even a feature rn) but also i will take this tumblr to the GRAVE#tiktok#kosa#tiktok ban#tumblr migration#tumblr live#fuck tiktok
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i think if i painted my ex situationship i'd be cured it's the most shallow but intense connection i've had w anyone i think i am so obsessed w how she looks i want 2 photograph her/paint her forever rant in tags but ive talked abt it b4 so feel free to ignore
#god her personality is so . kind of repulsive its insane i think shes a good friend to her friends but#the way she just openly admitted to treating her exes like they r less than human w the most beautiful smile u have seen in ur life#shes acc tainted tottenham court for me bc i keep thinking of our second date where she wrapped her hands around me from behind waiting for#the train . also yh sorry we were one of those cringe ppl on the escalator sorry sorry never again sorry#shes shorter than me but on the escelators she was taller so she kissed the top of my head gently#w the most beautiful side profile on earth she said she didnt even lead me on. its fine it was never that serious#ill FUCKING KILL YOU#thinking abt when on a date she was like . yh my ex would look lovely pregnant 😊 like bitch. WHAT#also she has central heterochromia so like . super beautiful big green/brown eyes longest eyelashes ever + i dont want to lose you i think#im 80% sure we should just be friends ok my love#i took you to a party on a high-rise and you held my neck when u kissed me on a canary wharf rooftop and now you just told me you want to#fuck pregnant women and that you basically cheated on your ex who then cheated on you but its ok bc shes the love of ur life#????#anyway#sorry i am acc basically almost entirely over her this was triggered by her texting me to meet up a few mins ago#after ghosting me for a while . anywya w/e time to hang out w friends and study
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queen of tears spoilers!!
identity is above all else, it seems like. ep 14 of queen of tears ruined me in all the good ways. when the question is "do you want to die as yourself?" vs "are you willing to live at the cost of who you are as a person?", the ultimate answer hae-in gives is no. she'd rather come to peace with the prospect of death with all of her memories of loving and, in turn, being loved coming with her. the death of memories is more painful than the death of her life itself. hyunwoo begging and sobbing in her arms does not deter her, however much she wants to keep on living. as herself. keep on living as the hong hae-in who loved dearly and who was loved, desperately so.
a loss of identity is death to everything that ever had a hand in helping her become who she is now. this brings me to the phrase "death is for the living". the dead do not mourn or face the aftermath of their last breath in the world of the living. the living, those who are left behind, are the ones who truly know what death is. so it is painful when hyunwoo, the man who isn't struck with the terminal illness bound to take her life any time soon, begs almost on his knees for hae-in, the woman who's counting the seconds left she has to live, to give up her sense of self. it's understandable how both of them stand strong in their desires. one fears becoming a stranger to all that she loves and one fears becoming familiar to life without the one he cannot live without. so he does everything in his power to have her take the surgery (all effort is in vain, she will not give up her identity).
i love this episode so much. im still only halfway through it but i had to give my two cents. such a beautifully tragic dilemma of two people who love. one loves by wanting to remember, one loves by giving everything to make her live. have a taste of love again for the first time. he says that he'll be the first person she'll meet and get to know again after the surgery. that he will still be there for her when she wakes up a completely different, empty, and lost person. he wants her to live, does not care if she'll ever even be able to reconnect with him ever again. he believes that she deserves to wake up another day and smile. to still be able to make new memories.
in the end they're both very selfish people who love selflessly.
edit: help me my stomach hurts from laughing so hard oml not him using his face and body card to annoy her into living. using jealousy as a mean to motivate her to take the freaking surgery and live ugh im in tears ahhahahah i love how if she doesn't become convinced the first few times when he's nice, he just intentionally pisses her off or annoys her into doing things to help herself 😭😭 thr only way to get hae-in motivated to live: make her mad at himself and have her do beneficial things out of sheer SPITE
edit 2: NO WHAT THE FOUK JUST HAPPENED POOR HYUNWOO OH MY GOD the way he lost all strength in his knees my god he crumbled in front of her feet he got a taste of what losing her felt like with that massive crash im still in shock i can't imagine having to witness that and trying to get through the car window to help save her and then not find her there?? and then she appears unscathed thankfully and he feels like a bucket of ice cold water drops over his head??? man they have to be so much more careful from now on bc the amount of yandereism the other guy is exhibiting ugh and the evil mother saying she'll help him out with "i can't stop till the moment i die" wtf??? OMG SHE'S GETTING THE SURGERY WHAT WHAT WHAT "i promised i would never make you cry after we get married" WOMAN HE'S BEEN SOBBING HIS SOUL OUT EVERY EPISODE SINCE!!!! 😭😭 ALSO NOOOOO NOT MY BOY SOOCHEOL GOING THROUGH IT AGAIN I CANT TAKE IT PLS MAKE HIM HAPPY WITH HIS LITTLE FAMILY I WILL CRYYYYYYYY he's gonna have MAJOR trust issues lmfao
#tp#cinema time!#queen of tears#my gut is telling me she won't forget a single thing lmfao#NOOOOOOOOOOOOO WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF#WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK NO NO NO NO NO NO NO#I KNEW IT THINGS WERE GOING WAY TOO SMOOTHLY I FUCKING KNEW IT YOU FUCKING BIIIITCHHHH YOU ASSHOLE YOU#OH MY GOD YOU EVIL FUCKING GREMLIN I CANT I CANT I KNEW IT I WAS TOO OPTIMISTIC I FUCKING KNEW IT#HAE-IN MY GIRLIE POP PLEASE I KNOW YOU CAN RECOGNIZE THE EVIL IN HIS EYES THAT AIN'T YOUR MAN#the end of this episode is fr hyunwoo's villain arc he's had eNOUGH#yoon eunseok you fucking bitch fight me
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my one sided beef with other shop owners on neopets
#talkys#i always try to price my stuff way way lower especially if the market price is insanely high#and some bitch just bought out all my low priced shit just to add it to their hoard#like nobody's going to buy your 67.999 np item that you now have 30 of just because its the lowest on the market bitch.#they're just not going to buy it. its why you have fucking 30 of them not being sold
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(chuckles) Im so good at reading comprehension and my meat is huge
#porter's lines in the preview..... I am prepared to be correct. and so so smug#cannot believe they touched upon clone politics as well. just. absolutely insane ep#fhjy spoilers#actually Im returning here to bask in what might be with the preview. this place sucks why do you save it?#that question is always so Integral to my writing brain its like being struck with lightning seeing that worded#why do you hold onto the coherence that you do? at what point do you abandon your morals?#why do you save the world? why do you do it again and again?#but very specifically with the bad kids I think itd both hit hard for them to hear it said out loud#that like. yeah! actually none of it ever has to be this way does it. all of it is started by someone and maintained by someone#you can shift the world. this fucking weirdo we're fighting is doing it right now! the door exists!#but also like 5 out of 6 of them would immediately be like fuck OFF my PARENTS LIVE HERE#and also specifically fig and gorgug would kill porter no matter what he says bc they just hate him#and it owns. this bitch should learn the consequences of working with teenagers#also I think shooting those cannons is like the closest riz has ever gotten to a moment of mindfulness#kid was doing self searching n introspection on top of those guns. eugenia got there at the breakthrough#I believe in you baby boy. rob a bank get that tuition the world is your oyster
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“Kids are too young to learn about that stuff/ it might make them feel bad!”
My earliest memory is being told by a cop that “your kind aren’t welcome here” when my mom tried to take us to a playground. I was seven when someone called me a kike for the first time. The boy I had a crush on found out, told me he would never think a “Jew-pig” was cute, and then told me that as a “good German” he was going to put me in an oven “where you belong”. I spent all of middle and high school with kids throwing Nazi salutes at me, flicking pennies at me, drawing swastikas on my desk. When people started a rumor that I was blowing random guys in the theater, I was specifically called “Jewish whore”.
If I can deal with all of this from the age of FUCKING FOUR without it letting up for a single fucking week. If black kids can experience being called slurs, assaulted, being afraid for their lives because they know what cops do to them. If disabled kids can spend their days being called crip, spaz, being excluded from the most basic of things because no one, their peers and adults alike, cares to accommodate them. If queer kids can handle being assaulted and mocked every day, being excluded from activities because of their gender.
Then your fucking kid can handle sitting in class for a lesson or two. Learning about all of the shit that’s been done to us in a way that is so watered down, it doesn’t even begin to cover it. Your kid can spend a day sitting in the auditorium watching “Schindler’s List” and giggling like a little fuck and imitating the Nazi salute while I sit there with the only other Jews in my grade and cry because we know this story and we have for years. Your kids can handle history lessons where they’re told that they could be Schindler. While I and kids like me know that we’re the little girl in the red jacket. Only meaningful for our shock value and pity when we die and nothing more. Only useful as a rhetorical device to inspire sympathy and tell other kids that they CAN do good, all while ignoring the fact that marginalized kids are fucking tortured at school by other kids, their teachers, and the fucking administration.
If you can’t handle your precious little baby having to learn about the Holocaust, or slavery, or racism, or the maltreatment of disabled people, or the AIDs crisis, for one day in an easy-to-swallow teaspoon of only slightly bitter medicine. Imagine being one of us.
#im pissed tonight#saw some shit about critical race theory#watched the John Oliver bit again#which is awesome by the way love him#but im just#oh my kid is too young to learn it at that age-#bitch if i and other kids like me#marginalized kids#can fucking LIVE IT from infancy#then your kid can sit and learn about it for a couple of hours#racism#abelism#antisemitism#queerphobia#slur mention
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https://twitter.com/danfetes/status/1712166167572361344
josh says people saying stuff about stef ticks him off 😭 that's the meanest he'll ever get off the field 😭
that was kinda... 😏😏😏
and i definitely know stef feels the same... 😏
" tired of hearing all this nonsense... lot of guys in this league that have that same fire that don't get talked about, but--"
" frankly that kind of ticks me off when people wanna say stuff about him, but... we'll keep that all internal here 🙂🙃🫥."
this is allen at his boiling point omg 😭😭 held back by pr
#reporter: we talked to josh and we asked him a question about y-#stef smirks in Yeah. I Bet You Did. Bitch.😎 we're a two packaged deal. inseparable 😎 (insufferable) im his right hand man. his silly rab-#the sassy pose and the fond smile. theyre so untouchable dramatic ass top of the foodchain powercouple it's Unreal.#WHERE IS THE RPF!?!??!?!????#josh and allen sooooo fucked after this#fucked HARRRRD bro fucked HARD#and they were both soo ready for it like you cant tell me they didnt fuck nasty after this HELLO#we cant always bet on them winning but the fuck nasty is surely guranteed#diggs had the bed all set up with romantic candlelight and roses and josh hurdled over all that shit just to hold him in his arms#josh caught on fire a little bit but diggs patted the flames down before he could notice#all the snow piled up around their home in buffalo could not muffle the 'youre my qb.. ure my qb' pants& moans which shake those very walls#josh '🙃🙃' the hell outta this interview#he said YOU may not understand diggs horrors but **I** DO!!@@! **I** UNDERSTAND. I GET THEM.#the frustration of seeing everyone hate on his husband when he knows all of that pales in how much stef hates himself#AND THAT MAKES JOSHS LITTLE STUNNED FACE ALL THE MORE SAD LIKE. HES SO HURT FOR STEF.#AND HE JUST KNOWS. he KNOWS the public is gonna spin this horribly. make stef the diva they always degrade him as#josh has CONSTANTLY with like a bear pacing around the cracked glass enclosure barely disguised rage#defended stef from misinterpretation and disdained the diva drama so vehemently#so everytime josh messes up or stef messes up or they lose all josh is thinking and feeling is 'im fucking this up for him even more#i dont care if theyre gonna be mad at me. diggs is hurting. somehow some way. diggs is gonna get Hurt.#and i cant do anything but talk. and i cant even do that well.#it's all my fault i cant do anything im so stupid im so stupid'#saint bernard song 1 hour#that single wide eyed stare he gives his wr bcs all he can do is stare as stef's pain surges#it's not fear of stef as the media tries to portray for qbwr tension. it's fear For stef.#he knows theres hurt. and he knows theres gonna be even more hurting. and. the nail. he knows he cant do anything to help it from stopping#'why couldnt i throw better. i need to just run it to lessen the chances. i need to do something. i need to be better. i have to be better'#meanwhile diggs could care less abt what everyone else thinks about him. he just cares abt how josh thinks. about josh#stef wants to perform well so josh can actually feel well. be able to express anything he wants without worry or treading#diggs/allen
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Tony: Why do you have another detention?
Harley: Apparently I verbally abused some girls
Tony: Why!? What happened!
Harley: They realised I was gay and they were all like "oh my god you're gay? That's so cute! You can be my gay bestie! Slay queen!" So I may have told them to stop harassing me because I'm gay and that it's a hate crime and that I'm not their gay bestie because nobody fucking likes them anyway.
Tony: ...
Peter: It was bad
Harley: Yeah, well I wanted to say "shut the fuck up Amelia! I'm not your gay bestie! Don't fucking call me cute! We're not friends! And you look so much like a man that I'd probably fuck you if you were half decent looking!" But I didn't
Tony: Okay, now that seems a tad uncalled for
Harley: Okay, I'm sorry, that was too far. I just have a lot of pent up rage.
Peter: It's true, we played dodgeball and now the whole school is scared of him
Harley: *proudly nodding*
#oh my god you're gay!?#thats so cute!#omg slay bestie!#omg you can be my gay bestie!#slay queen#SHUT THE FUCK UP AMELIA#I'M NOT FUCKING CUTE AND I'M NOT YOUR GAY BESTIE#I'M NOT YOUR FUCKING FRIEND BECAUSE NO ONE FUCKING LIKES YOU#YOU LOOK SO MUCH LIKE A MAN THAT I'D PROBABLY FUCK YOU IF YOU WERE HALF DECENT LOOKING#okay I'm sorry that was too far#You are a bitch tho#i want to make that clear#hey I love your jacket by the way#marvel#mcu#mcu fandom#incorrect mcu quotes#incorrect mcu#marvel incorrect quotes#tony stark#incorrect quotes#incorrect peter parker#peter parker#marvel cinematic universe#harley keener#gay#funny#textpost#original incorrect quotes#incorrect quote
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