#Edit: deciding to turn off notifications for this post but I mean it when I say hugs for everyone

[i-may-be-an-emu]

Hugs (if you want them) for all my american moots and honestly just everyone who’s scared 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

[bucketbueckers]

accounting - azzi fudd

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader (no use of y/n) wc: 2.8k synopsis: you're watching kk and the rest of the team fool around on live when azzi fudd walks in asking for an accounting tutor. deciding to humor it, you're surprised to find that azzi was completely serious, and even more surprised when your offer leads to something more between the two of you. notes: in honor of azzi fudd hoops last night - i was supposed to have this up before the game but i forgot i had a three hour lab and unfortunately i will not write fanfiction in the middle of the university food court. first tumblr post, lmk if we're rockin w it 🙂‍↕️

You’re settling into bed to unwind for the night when you get the TikTok notification.

KK Arnold has gone live!

For the better part of your day, you’ve had your nose in the books, trying to get ahead of your weekly homework. You have a terrible habit of letting most of it pile up during the week and finishing it all over the weekend. As an accounting major, you didn’t really have fun weekend plans, anyway, but it would be nice to lay in bed all day and not worry about something that was due at 11:59. You only had three classes today: managerial accounting, intro to auditing, and intermediate accounting. It wasn’t a rigorous schedule by any means; you were done and out of classes by lunchtime, but after two and a half hours of listening to your professors drone on, you were ready for the nap you couldn’t afford to take due to your piles of homework. 

Seeing the live notification is enough to remind you that you aren’t really that tired, so you click on it. KK’s face fills the screen and she’s unboxing Crumbl cookies. You say a silent prayer for the girls – Crumbl tasted terrible and that was a hill you were willing to die on. Paige sat behind KK, with Ayanna, Jana, Kayla, and a few other players milling about off-camera. For a painful few minutes, KK tries her best to get everyone’s attention so she can narrate about whatever monstrosity of a cookie they’re eating, but everyone’s laughing too hard to fully lock in.

Ayanna leaves to get a knife so KK can cut the cookies evenly. KK entertains the live while Ayanna is away, singing, chatting, and interacting with commenters. When Ayanna finally returns, she has the knife, but Azzi also trails behind her - a fact that the live is definitely appreciative of. “Oh, my God, look who it is!” KK intones in a shrill voice, much to Azzi’s clear bewilderment. You’ve never seen an expression of such confusion on someone’s face before. “It’s Azzi Fudd!”

Azzi buries her face in her hands and moves off-camera as everyone laughs. KK’s voice softens as she asks, “Azzi, wanna try a cookie?”

“No,” Azzi whines.

KK’s entire expression shifts, and admittedly, yours does, too. It’s no secret that Azzi was almost nationally known as the people’s princess. Perhaps you’d have to fight someone. You hope that no one’s actually done something wrong to her – first of all, you can’t even fathom the idea. It’d be like kicking a puppy. Second of all, you were just someone, along with 13,000 other viewers, watching the team interact behind a screen. You were sure that Azzi’s team would handle business, although you were willing to step in if needed, too, even if you stood a solid six inches shorter than Azzi herself. “What happened?” KK asks. Paige echoes her question.

“Ask the live if anyone can tutor me in accounting,” Azzi says forlornly.

You don’t think she’s serious until KK turns back just in time for the cowboy hat to return. “Hey, y’all! Is there anybody who’s really good at accounting for Azzi Fudd? Please send help. If you do have someone who’s really good at accounting, please DM me at k2times TikTok or at kamoreaarnold Instagram or at azzifudd Instagram! Thank yew.” The room dissolves into giggles as KK continues, “And if you DM me with edits or anything else but accounting help, I will block! Thank yew.”

You have the time today, so you switch over to Instagram as the live continues in the background, and you go to Azzi’s page and hit the Message option. You doubt she’ll see it, let alone respond, but as an accounting major, it’s basically your civic duty to help those in need, especially since you know these classes are hell.

hey do u actually need accounting help? i major in it!

Satisfied, you click back over to the live just in time for Azzi to comment, “KK, I might actually have a tutor,” she says in near disbelief. You think nothing of it as KK turns her head, humming at Azzi. “Wait, I think she’s in my class.”

That manages to catch your attention. Sure, you’re watching a live with a couple thousand people on it, but how many of those people are accounting students at UConn who happen to share a class with Azzi Fudd?

An Instagram notification pops up on your screen as Paige leaves the camera frame to most likely peer over Azzi’s shoulder. You’re shocked again to see Azzi has DM’ed you back.

Yes please this homework is killing me Are you in ACCT3201 with Cansler??? I recognize you

Discovering just how unobservant you are should not come as a great surprise. Apparently, you’ve been sharing a class with Azzi Fudd this entire semester and you didn’t even realize it. This is easily the most embarrassing moment of your entire life.

i am i can’t believe i didn’t know u were in it i’m a lot better at accounting than i am at paying attention, i promise

This draws a giggle from Azzi that you can hear over the live. It makes a flush rise on your cheeks. The fact that Azzi Fudd knows who you are combined with the fact she’s laughing at your jokes is enough for a feeling of anticipation to twist in your chest. This is your life now, apparently.

“Azzi is cheesing so bad,” KK teases. You can’t help but feel a little pride at that. “Who’s chatting her up right now? Lemme invite you. Accounting rizz is insane work.”

“Don’t scare away my tutor,” Azzi grumbles, coming back into view of the camera. True to KK’s words, a faint blush has settled on her cheeks. Feeling far too smug, you comment on the live, ‘calling it rizz is crazy, i’m just helping the people.’ Azzi’s eyes scan the screen before rolling slightly. “Look at what you did, KK.”

“Is that her?” KK shrieks. She leans in closer to the screen, blocking out much of the background. “Oh, she fine. Lock in, Azzi; she can help you with more than accounting.”

At that, you and Azzi both blush a deep scarlet red and Azzi turns on her heel. “Goodbye, KK!” The room dissolves into rambunctious laughter as Azzi walks out, calling, “I’m going to finish my homework!”

A moment passes before Azzi messages you again.

I’m so sorry about KK, she’s feral

You swipe away from the live again, grinning slightly. In your DMs, the typing bubbles appear for a few short moment. You heart her most recent message in the meantime.

Will you please help me? I genuinely don’t understand what I’m doing wrong

Yes, you’ve spent most of the day in classes and doing homework. Yes, you’re tired. Yes, you really only joined the live to unwind. But when Azzi asks for help, you can’t really say no to her.

of course, are u working on this week’s homework set?

Her affirmative response is swift, telling you what she’s having trouble with. Your fingers hesitate on your screen, trying to figure out how to put your thoughts into words before settling.

i know this is incredibly forward but would u want to ft? i can explain better verbally

Azzi sends you her number. After tonight’s events, you really shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but you can’t help it. Azzi is a nationally (and internationally) recognized college basketball player and, until now, you were just a girl who watched her team’s TikTok lives and cheered in the student section. Azzi had seemed so untouchable, by virtue of her celebrity and your lack thereof; it’s hard to believe you’re this close to her now, even if it’s just to help her with accounting homework.

The two of you talk well into the night, even hours after Azzi submits her problem sets successfully and she understands the material. You feel like you get to see a side of her so rarely seen by other people who aren’t her teammates. She’s softer, with a beaming smile on her face when she finally understands a difficult concept. There’s something so alluring about the way she speaks that you can’t help but listen to every single thing that comes out of her mouth, ranging from her frustrated rants to the smoothness of her giggle. The lamplight reflects off of the lenses of the glasses perched on her nose and you think she’s so incredibly beautiful – bare-faced and slightly delirious from staying up so late.

When the two of you finally hang up half past three, you can’t wipe the smile off your face, and somehow, you just know that this is the start of something new.

From then on, your friendship with Azzi all but flourishes. She’s incredibly sweet, soft-spoken, and so deliberate in the way she moves and speaks to you. When your next accounting class rolls around, she finds the seat next to yours, asking to sit there with an almost shy expression. When there’s lulls in the lecture, you entertain her with jokes, drawing red-cheeked giggles that she has to stifle. You’re almost like her personal TA, sitting next to her and clarifying concepts that she doesn’t understand. It helps you, too; the best study advice you’d ever received was to teach it to someone else. 

Your friendship progresses outside of the lecture room and outside of your texts. You both spend a lot of time in the library, studying in peace together or enjoying lunch in each other's company. You always thought Azzi was gorgeous, but now that you know her on a far more personal level, falling for her was a near guarantee. The far-away admiration transformed into something pure, genuine. You couldn’t imagine Azzi returning those feelings — she’s far too busy, too committed to ball — so you keep your rapidly growing crush close to your chest. 

You’ve always showed up to the UConn games, though there’s something distinctly different about them now. Azzi was never one for grand celebrations or trash talk in the way Paige was. She was intentional and lowkey, which is why you feel like you could float when she makes direct eye contact with you in the student section, throwing up three fingers to celebrate a particularly deep three. It’s why you cheese when she finds you after the game, after she’s showered and changed, and asks if you want to get ice cream with her. The better question was how could you refuse?

Azzi deliberates between vanilla and cookie dough for a long while before settling on the latter. Even as the clerk fills her bowl, she stares at the the vanilla and your choice of ice cream becomes obvious. Azzi stares at you as the clerk fills your bowl with vanilla. “What? It’s my favorite flavor,” you lie, and her lips quirk up as she studies you. 

“Said literally no one ever,” she says wryly. The clerk hands you the bowl and Azzi swipes her card before you have the chance to even contemplate otherwise. When you stare at her in disbelief, her smile widens and all fight leaves your body. What were you supposed to do about that? You were a puddle for pretty women — a puddle for Azzi, honestly — and your resolve should be commended for maintaining months of friendship with Azzi. 

The two of you find a secluded booth towards the back of the ice cream shop. Azzi shares her midterm grade — a solid 100, and you whistle lowly. “I got an 89,” you say, not hurt by it at all. As long as it was above an 80, you could care less. “You sure you still need me?”

Azzi swirls her ice cream around her bowl, suddenly quiet. The realization dawns on you immediately. Your words were meant to be a joke, but the truth to them stuns you. You really hoped Azzi would say, ‘of course not, it’s not like that!’ but her silence keeps you guessing. 

“I have a confession to make,” she says after a beat, finally glancing up at you. The vulnerability and nervousness makes your heart fall out of your ass. “Promise it won’t make anything weird?”

You open your mouth just to close it again. You clear your throat. “Promise, Az,” you say finally. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she says quickly. “Um, so here’s the thing. I struggled a lot with the first problem set. You know, the one I needed the tutor for?” You nod, confused by her words. “You helped a lot. And, like, I haven’t really needed actual tutoring in weeks. I just really liked spending time with you.” You blink at her. She stares at you right back, brows furrowed with guilt and her doe eyes wide. “I’m sorry. You must feel like I wasted your time.”

At that, you can’t help but laugh, and Azzi pouts. “Az. I thought you were about to dump me,” you explain. “Plus, I kinda figured after a while we were just like, studying together, and not me actually tutoring.”

She sighs, burying her face in her hands. You laugh again, pushing your leftover ice cream towards her. Azzi glances up again, her eyes soft and fond. “I guess I just wanted an excuse for you to stick around.”

“You never needed one,” you tell her honestly, and a blush creeps up her neck. 

“You’re not really picking up what I’m putting down, are you?”

Her words almost make you recoil. It’s no secret at this point that you can be a little oblivious, but her words make your heart skip a beat. “Az, I have no idea what you’re putting down,” you admit.

“So, I just admitted to you that I liked spending time with you and lied about needing study help just so I’d have an excuse to hang out with you,” Azzi confirms. “We are sitting here, alone, after a game while my teammates celebrate at Ted’s. All of that, and you have no idea what I’m putting down?”

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” you say smartly. 

“Yeah.”

“So, you like me?” you ask just to be one hundred percent sure. 

She smiles at you. You’re certain your heart almost stops beating. “How could I not?” she asks like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You make me laugh. You’re always so patient with me, you make me feel seen — like I can just be myself. It’s… hard to find something genuine like this. You don’t expect anything from me.”

“I just want you to be happy,” you say simply. 

Her eyes confirm everything for you. You’re not observant, sure, but your main priority has always been what was directly in front of you. And right now, it’s hard to focus on anything that’s not Azzi. Azzi’s eyes are so soft, kinder than anything you’ve ever seen before. They hold so much understanding but there’s also a silent plea of let this be mutual that you’re too happy to give into. 

“I’ve been falling for you for a while,” you admit, and her face brightens. Your shoulders feel lighter; carrying around your feelings has burdened you, but if it’s the price you had to pay to make sure Azzi felt comfortable and that she could have friendships without people taking advantage of her celebrity, then so be it. You’d bear a lot more for her if it ever came down to it. “I kept it to myself for a while,” you continued. “You deserve normal. A friendship without expectations. But, God, Az, how could anyone not fall for you?”

Azzi’s cheeks flush a pretty red. You can’t help but smile at her, growing a little braver, and you slide your hand across the table. She wastes no time before intertwining your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

She walks you home that night, refusing to let go of you until you’re halfway through your doorstep. She stops you; her height would be intimidating if you didn’t know she was the sweetest person to ever walk the earth. “Can I…” She trails off, her hands gentle on your waist. 

You don’t need much more convincing — you loop your arms around her neck and tug her down to your height, planting your lips on hers with a softness that she eagerly reciprocates. You can taste the vanilla on her lips, the sweetness of the cookie dough, and the promise of something distinctly reminiscent of Azzi Fudd. You’re suddenly thankful for KK’s stupid live, for Crumbl cookie, for the accounting class you shared together. It’s all led you to where you are now, in Azzi’s arms outside of your apartment, overcome with the knowledge that all of this is so new, but you have everything you could have possibly wanted.

(You ask her to officially be your girlfriend two weeks after that, having been on three dates since — it’s only after you pop the question and the two of you are settling in to watch a movie that she admits to you the real reason she was struggling so bad with the problem sets was because she’d spend entire lecture periods staring at you. You roll your eyes, feeling inexplicably cared for in a way you haven’t experienced before Azzi, and your only true response to her confession is the lingering kiss you place on her lips.)

[midnightsnyx]

beautiful things p1 - mat barzal

my masterlist pairing: mathew barzal x singer!reader summary: mathew barzal has a crush on you but you have no idea who he is until an interview goes viral. warnings: mentions of past toxic relationship, not edited word count: 612 words requested: yes/no author note: this was requested but has potential for a part 2 I think. also I hate using "y/n" but I had no choice lol requests are open!

"Mathew Barzal has a crush on you”, is the first thing you hear when you wake up.

Your head is pounding, probably from your show last night. People don’t usually bother you until you make an appearance but apparently your assistant finds it necessary to wake you.

“Who’s Mathew Barzal?” you ask but before you can finish your sentence, a phone is shoved in your face and you’re looking at a picture of a hockey player.

A very attractive hockey player.

But then, you see the time.

7:29 a.m.

You roll back over and mumble, “my alarm isn’t set until 10.”

Iris plops down next to you. You’re not able to see her, but you can feel her vibrating with excitement. “C’mon, this is Mat Barzal!”

“And?”

“And, he’s like super hot! And he likes you!”

You groan, rolling over to look at her. “How do you know he likes me?”

Once again, a phone is shoved in your face but this time there’s a video playing.

“What kind of music do you usually listen to before a game to pump you up?” A reporter asks Barzal and he blushes and scratches the back of his neck. There’s a pause before he decides on an answer.

“Uh, y/n l/n has pretty sick music out right now so I’ve been listening to her,” he says and from across the room, a voice shouts: “yeah and he has a giant crush on her!”

The video ends and your view is replaced with Iris’s face. She’s practically trembling with excitement and you can’t help but laugh.

“Sounds like you have a crush on him,” you tease and she blushes.

“My ex was an Islanders fan,” she mumbles but then shakes her head. “I can connect with his agent and get his number for you and then-"

"Iris, no," you say, finally sitting up. “I said I wasn’t dating right now. I can’t, not after him.”

You don’t need say his name for the mood to completely darken. Your last relationship nearly ruined you and you’re not ready to open your heart back up to someone when it’s just starting to heal.

Iris nods, not saying anything else. She quietly leaves your room and you flop back on your bed, closing your eyes trying to fall back asleep but it’s useless now. The last thing you want right now is a relationship but you’re a little curious about Mathew Barzal. Your hand reaches out patting around until you find your phone. It’s on do not disturb so when you turn that off, your phone is flooded with notifications. Messages from friends congratulating you on the show, a missed call from your mom - you make a side note to remember to call her back - and finally, you open Instagram and you’re tagged in every single re-post of Mat’s interview. 

Buzzfeed even has an article on it. 

“Huh,” you say outloud to yourself before opening your direct messages and there is one that immediately catches your eye. You hesitate before opening it however because opening it means a lot of things.

It means possibly opening your heart to someone when you feel like it’s just heal. It means the possibility of early morning coffee dates and getting food at 24 hour diners together after your shows or his games. It means long distance sometimes, when you have shows and he has games. The many, many discussions about moving in together before actually doing it. It’s slow mornings together making breakfast, lounging on the sofa when neither of you have anything to do. 

It means the possibility of building something beautiful together.

So, you take the leap and open his message.

barzal97 so about that interview…

[he4rted]

2. love.

Now playing: love. - wave to earth

Kenma waiting room screen was on, he went on Spotify and searched love. by wave to earth. He continued setting up, put up two cameras making sure they were working, he started cleaning up a bit until the three got there.

Once the three go there, he took the stream off the waiting room, the chat went by so fast when that happened. “Alright let’s start”

“Why’d you put the egg before the oil!” Kenma yelled at Nishinoya “I didn’t know it mattered!” He panicked “Just move!” He pushed him out of the way. Kuroo was reading the chat and Shoyo was washing dishes.

Kuroo looked at his phone and seen he gotten a notification from you that you had posted. It was a simple picture of you out drinking with some friends, it was captioned ‘maybe I should respond to those DMs’ he went through the pictures “Is that lev!?” Shoyo looked over “Hm? Where?” Kuroo showed him the picture of Lev with you. Kenma looked over “Oh yeah I seen him at the party, he had said hi to her didn’t expect them to be friends”

Shoyo started cutting up some strawberries and putting them in the cake mix, putting some chocolate chips in too before mixing it and pouring it into the pan. “I forgot to turn on the oven” Nishinoya said looking down “What the fuck!” Kenma yelled at him “I’m sorry!” “It’s fine just turn it on now” Shoyo told him “We’ll just wait a bit longer for it took” He says as he puts the pan in the oven after Nishinoya turned it on.

Kuroo continued reading the chat “Uh someone said ‘Shoyo’s boyfriend material’” “Oh thank you” Shoyo said “No he’s not he’s just nice he’s very slow” Kenma said towards the camera, Shoyo looked at him offended “Rude!” “It’s true” there was a donation of 15 subs “Who is that with blond streak” the text to speech voice spoke “My name is Nishinoya” Shoyo sprayed him with water before running off “Shoyo what the hell!” He started chasing him.

After the stream was over, Kenma started editing the footage for YouTube. He got a email so he decided to respond onto that before he did anything else.

fun facts!

- you’re the one who donated

- you did start replying to some DMs not the weird ones though

masterlist | next

a/n - alright guys I finally posted it now wait another year for the next one/hj

taglist: @ast4rg1rl @arirants111 fill out this form to be added. if your name is bolded it means I can’t tag you

[ryxiez]

Forgetful

Mammon x gn!Reader

Angst?/Fluff

1.2k words

I’m not rly happy with this one but I hope it works for y’all. I don’t have motivation to edit it so let’s pray for no spelling mistakes

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Mammon snuck out. Again. It was no surprise that he went out to the casino, his drawer he kept his money in was wide open along with a window. Everything looked like he almost left in a rush.

You sighed as you sunk deeper into the couch he had in his in his room while simultaneously scrolling through your phone. Just earlier that day you made plans with Mammon for a movie night, as a date, but when you arrived to his room he was gone.

Now it’s been over two hours and you were almost at your breaking point. Filled with anger and resentment, you still scrolled through social media.

You then got an alert on your phone, "Check out TheGreatMammons new post on Devilgram!"

'This is so fucking great' you sarcastically said to yourself as you clicked on the notification, brining you to the post.

Not to your surprise, it was of course a picture of him at the casino, letting his greed get the best of him. Like normal he was posting about how he just won huge game or whatever with a bunch of people surrounding him, including women latching onto his arms.

You didn't know how to feel, everything was so confusing at the moment. Should you feel hurt, sad, angry, sympathetic, or remain neutral in this situation?

You couldn't decide as your face reminded blank but a heavy feeling was building in your chest. You shoved your phone into your pocket.

Finally deciding to make your way to the bathroom, you thought it would be the best to wash of the makeup you applied for the date. A bath wouldn’t hurt either. (if you don't wear makeup forget that part ;p)

You knocked on the door and without hearing any response signifying that someone may already be occupying the space, you turned the knob and made your way inside.

You grabbed some new soap Asmo bought for you just the other day. He said it was just the right thing to use after a long day, and let’s just say you definitely needed that right now.

You sat in the tub for god knows how long, you only realized that it was time to get out when your fingers became too pruny.

You left the bathroom in your bathrobe after drying off and drying your hair.

Yet your mind was still filled with thoughts of how to confront Mammon. You couldn’t act like nothing happened but you didn’t want to seem too clingy. It seemed the soap didn’t work as well as you hoped.

You changed into your favorite pair of pajamas and were about to curl into bed until you heard a knock at your bedroom door.

You groaned in annoyance, "What do you want?"

"Open up its ya favorite" a deep voice called from the other side of the door that was oddly chipper for how late it now was during the nigh.

"Mhm, come in." You said. You didn't want to get up from your bed just to let him in, you were already tried.

"Hey~, the Great Mammon is back from a grand night out at casino!" He exclaimed as he entered your room all boisterous.

You rolled your eyes at his ignorance, "Wow great, anything else?" You asked him to see if he would even remember about your date.

"Uhhh, nothing other than money. What do ya mean?" He asked as he placed his finger to his chin thinking while also tilting his head a tad to the side.

"What I mean is, are you forgetting anything?" You asked again but got no response as he other looked at you with confusion written all over his face.

"Forgetting anything that you planned instead of sneaking out?" You asked again and at this point you were astounded at how clueless he could be. He's lived centuries longer than you and still couldn't take a hint.

"You missed our date, idiot." You let him know coldly as you looked away from him.

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed as he ran over to your side on the bed.

"Y/n I completely forgot, I’m sorry." He grumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “I’m so so sorry.”

Mammon felt terrible, he was supposed to be your first and he let his greediness get in the way of you. That was the last thing he ever wanted to happen, but it now did, and he knew he had to make it right somehow.

There was no way he planned on letting you down again.

"Y/n, please look at me for a second." He pleaded as you still had your back turned to the demon.

You didn't move for a while, contemplating on actully giving him a chance.

However, inside your heart you knew you couldn't stay mad at him forever. The greed he had was truly a part of him, he was one of the seven deadly sins.

With a sigh you scooted around to face him him with a look of impatience on your face. Mammon gulped and shuffled around to grab something from his pocket. It was a black velvet box that was most definitely had a ring inside.

“I swear to god Mammon if your proposing now-“ you started to say before he interrupted you.

“NO! I mean uhh not yet. Please just listen.” He exclaimed and you couldn’t help but smile a little. To be honest you wouldn’t put it past him.

"I planned on saving this for a later date, but I guess now is the best time to give this to you." He paused as he opened the box to reveal a yellow saphire ring. (feel free to look up and pick the one you like the most)

"I just ran to the jeweler after going to the casino with the money I won... but now definitely seems like the right time to help me apologize instead of saving it." He explained as he looked away with a flushed face.

"Aww, Mammon you're so sweet." You cooed after placing the ring on your finger, a hint of teasing was laced in between your words.

Then you pulled him into a hug knowing it would only fluster him more.

"I- I am not sweet! I am the Great Mammon and I shouldn’t have let you down" He exclaimed as he tried to pry you off his body. However, he didn't try very hard because he knew deep down he loved the affection.

"I guess I can forgive you for now, but only if we can make up for lost time." You said as you pulled away from the hug smirking slightly.

"Wait, wait, w- what do you mean by that?" He asked as you pushed him down onto your bed, tossing the velvet box onto your nightstand as I could get in the way.

"How about I show you what I mean instead."

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Maybe pt.2 if enough people want it!

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [10]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 17,399

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, canon drug use, drug use (don't do drugs), blood, bruises, injuries, look the anti-fear drug turns perfectly innocent people into raging murderers and makes them do things they would never do and that's all I'm gonna say for that one, canon violence, violence, mentions of abuse

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: I'm sorry this is extra late lol some personal stuff happened and editing has been hard lol then I was sick so here we are I'm so sorry!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Instead of providing Dick with any sort of explanation you can think of, you decide you'll meet up with Jason instead. Dick knows he's alive and he's going to want answers which means you're going to be the one interrogated by him. But, Jason tried to kill Dick tonight and that is sending up a large red flag that almost makes you want to tell Dick everything. So, you figure you can meet up with Jason and hope he gives you a good enough reason to either keep your mouth shut or to spill what you know to Dick. Something is off and it's more than just Jason coming back from the dead.

You head outside to the front steps of the Manor. The only people awake are just you and Dick anyway, but you want to be outside for this one. You take out the burner and press redial.

"Shouldn't you be getting some damn sleep?" Jason answers.

"Shouldn't you?" You quip back. "Heard you had an eventful night."

"Fair enough." He remarks but he sounds tired.

"Can we meet?" You ask bluntly.

"Now?" Jason huffs, looking around his hideout that's lit up with lamps on the floor.

"Yeah, now." Your voice is flat and usually Jason can read what you're up to but not now.

"Why?" His brows knight together as the word is slow to leave his throat.

"I can't want to see you after you just fought the Titans?" You ask, a slight snip in your voice.

"You gonna bitch about it?" Jason quips back getting the idea maybe Dick told you what happened or Gar.

"No." You lie.

"Fine. Remember that alley the day we did that bust at the warehouse in Crime Alley?"

"Yes?"

"Meet me there. Leave now." Jason says quickly before hanging up.

You pull the phone from your head, looking at it. Now that's also a bit uncharacteristic of him. He always says it. He always tells you he loves you before he hangs up. Your heart plummets to your stomach. You made the Pet Sementary reference to him but you didn't think it would be literal. Now, you're starting to think maybe it is.

The idea that just because you can bring someone back from the dead, doesn't mean you can bring someone back from the dead. Something about them is different, there's a change. Like a part of their soul or something gets left behind. The good parts of them stay behind but everything else is what gets to come back. You know that's not entirely true because of how he was with you when you met up the first time. That can't be it. But there is something. And it's eating at you.

Jason, on the other hand, he knows you. He knows you want to meet up to check on him, yes. You’ll always want to check on him after any sort of fight with anyone. It’s what you do. But, he also knows you’re going to have questions about him attacking Dick and the other Titans. You tipped him off, sure, but maybe you didn’t think he was going to actually attack them. He knows you’re going to question him about it, probably lecture him. He doesn’t want to listen to it. He can’t listen to it. A part of him will want to break if he does and he knows it. He knows he will if he goes there clean. So, he doesn’t. He hits the inhaler and pockets it before heading to the alley.

Jason gets there first, hiding in the shadows until you show up. You’re on your bike, completely suited up. You don’t want anyone seeing you with him. Not the real you. Red Hood is pissing off a lot of people and you already have enough shit you’re dealing with. The last thing you want is a target painted on your civilian self for being seen with him.

You dismount the bike, popping the helmet on the handlebar as you look around. Jason walks out from the shadows, wearing the suit and the helmet. Of course, he is.

“I’m fine.” Jason states. You don’t like how the helmet makes him sound.

“Yeah, well, had to see for myself.” You let out a breath as you close the rest of the distance between you.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” Jason takes the helmet off and he isn’t smiling or grinning. His expression is flat and your heart starts to sink.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Jay?” You shake your head, Jason getting a hint of annoyance in your voice.

“I mean I’m fine.” He rolls his shoulders, his voice flat.

Your eyes are scanning over him and it’s dark but you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have any bruises. It seems either the helmet and suit did a good job of protecting him tonight or Dick didn’t get a hit in. That’s at the very least a small relief but Jason Todd has never been fine. You’re starting to think he doesn’t actually know the definition of the word.

“Right. You have said you’re fine a hundred times and not once have you actually been fine.” You cross your arms over your chest.

Jason’s teeth grit for just a split second. “Don’t fucking worry. I told you. I got this handled.” Jason holds the helmet on his hip, his stance strong and sturdy.

He’s different than he was yesterday. He was grinning and smirking because it’s him. Whenever he claims to be fine, he gives you a grin as if that’s going to melt your worry away. But, not tonight and he seems bored and defensive.

“Why are you being so…weird?” You raise a brow at him.

Jason brushes you off, thankful for the drug coursing through his system. He’d never be able to deal with this without it.

“I’m not weird.” Jason defends.

“Yeah, you are. You’re acting weird.” You argue.

You don’t get it and maybe you won’t ever. But, this is him now. He’s not acting weird because this is the new him. Red Hood, fearless. He has no worries or fears anymore, just a mission. Jason swears he’s not acting weird, you’re just expecting the old him.

“This is just the new me.” He lets out this sort of chuckle that doesn’t sit well in your stomach.

“Uh-huh. Right. You seemed…kind of normal last time but now you seem…off.” Your eyes scan over his face and your heart is in your throat, the formula running through your mind.

“Just glad to be doing what Bruce couldn’t.” Jason holds his head up high with ease.

“This conversation is going fucking nowhere.” You let out a sigh as you look to the ground.

You came here with the intent to be sure he’s fine. It was to get some sort of answer. A real, solid reason not to tell Dick anything. Dick is going to have so many questions when you get back tonight. All of them will be about Jason and what his new plan is now that he’s alive. You need a reason to keep what you do know to yourself and Jason is giving you every reason to be worried enough to talk to Dick.

“So, go home.” Jason scoffs but he’s not even offended or upset. It’s like he doesn’t even care.

Your attention snaps back to him. “What the fuck? I’m worried about you and you don’t even care?”

It’s not that he doesn’t care. The drug numbs part of that but not entirely. It can’t otherwise they wouldn’t be able to have a plan in the first place. Jason has to be able to care about the city and the people he’s trying to protect otherwise there is no plan. It’s not that he does not care, it’s that he doesn’t care to go through the arguing in circles game while you dig for information.

“What else did you want? I know you want something else.” Jason dodges the question on purpose, knowing he won’t even feel guilty about it.

A lump forms in your throat as he dodges the question. He comes back to life and is, generally, normal but now he’s not? How is that even possible?

“Dick knows you’re alive.” You swallow the lump and if he’s going to pretend like this doesn’t hurt him, fine, you’ll do the same.

“Yeah, broke my other helmet, had a backup though.” Jason looks down to the helmet on his hip and then back to you with ease, the very corners of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“Oh, I’m so glad you have a spare helmet, Jason.” You snark through a scoff. “Unbelievable.” You look down and this is not how you wanted this to go. “Why did you try to shoot him?”

“He was in the way.” Jason answers casually.

The Titans are going to get in the way and Dick is the leader. Without him, the Titans will fall apart. Crane is right about Dick. He thinks he’s better than Jason. He thinks he’s the golden child, and he always was to Bruce. Bruce couldn’t even be bothered to kill the Joker for Jason but he would have for Dick. Dick dropped him from a skyscraper. Dick got him kidnapped and tortured. This all comes back to him and Bruce. 

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head and you’re sick of the games with him right now. “Are fucking joking!?” You finally yell. This isn’t funny. Dick is his brother, he’s your friend. He could have killed him. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Nope.” Jason gives you a grin. The drug loves confrontation.

This is not the Jason you once knew.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You glare up at him. “He’s in your way? Well, damn Jason, maybe don’t attack the fucking Titans.” You gesture your hands out as you shrug your shoulders.

Jason’s blood starts to boil as you yell. You swore you weren’t working with them but from where he’s standing, it sure as shit seems like you are. Crane said you would. Crane said you’d start working with them the second you found out what he was doing. Maybe he was right and it’s pissing Jason off. You’re supposed to be on his side.

“I thought you weren’t fucking working with them.” Jason seethes. You lied. You lied to him. Of course, you’re working with them. Maybe Crane was right about you, too.

But you tipped him off. 

“I’m fucking not! But I give a shit about them. In case you forgot, Dick saved my life twice. Gar is our best friend. Conner saved your life. Kory fucking tried to save our lives. I know you care about them. Why the hell would you go after them?”

“Dick treats me like shit. I’m fucking no one to him. He thinks he’s so much better than me.” Jason scoffs. “You said Rachel was his lap dog, but look at you now.” Jason laughs cruelly as he closes some of the distance between you. “You’re the one screaming at me and defending him.” Jason shakes his head, looking down at you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he were trying to intimidate you.

Maybe you don’t know better.

“You tried to kill him! He pisses me off sometimes, too but I don’t want him dead! I’m not his damn lap dog, either. I just don’t know what the hell is going on. And you won’t fucking tell me.” You grit your teeth, standing toe-to-toe with him.

“That’s because it’s none of your fucking business, but don’t worry, babe, you’ll see soon enough.” Jason offers this grin that you can’t tell is him taunting you or threatening you. And from here, with him nearly standing on top of you, you can see his eyes better.

His pupils are dilated and your heart is suddenly in your throat. On the one hand, making a drug and selling it to innocent people is really bad and you were hoping that was not it. But, on the other hand, a part of you thinks him taking something is worse in a way. The formula screams from the back of your head and Dick’s general concern about it, Jason’s weird and erratic behavior before he died. Him going after the Joker. He’s definitely high and you have no fucking idea how you missed that either or what even lead him here.

“Literally, are you high right now?” You question him, hoping against all odds whatever he’s on will make him tell you, like an overconfidence thing. “Because the Jason I know wouldn’t be laughing and trying to kill the Titans. The Jason I know wouldn’t be being such a fucking dick to me right now.”

Jason lets out a laugh, ignoring your question because he’s not playing into your hand. “So, go home.” There’s a wicked look in his eyes as he looks down at you. And it hurts. “This is me, new and improved.” There’s almost something threatening in the way his eyes darken to the deepest shade of evergreen you’ve ever seen.

“If you think this an improvement, I have news for you. The new you sucks.” You spit back.

It’s like the drug loves confrontation. It’s as if confrontation triggers something. The drug is supposed to suppress fear. That’s the point of it. But it seems to do a few other things. If confrontation starts, it’s like Jason gets an adrenaline boost but not in self-defense, instead, it’s more like skydiving. It’s actually fun, it doesn’t matter who the confrontation is with. It’s fun. Thrilling. Jason doesn’t realize that maybe that was Crane's plan. He’s a mad scientist. Maybe the drug is meant to suppress his fear but maybe it’s meant to control other parts of him in just the right way to do his bidding. Like using confrontation as another drug. Jason doesn’t see it. He can’t see it because the drug, at the end of the day, is Crane’s creation. Because Crane is the one pulling the strings behind the curtain.

And unfortunately for you, you’re kicking up the confrontation.

Jason’s smile falls as he shakes his head. There’s an anger that sparks across his eyes, something you’ve never directed at you. “Really? Not what you fucking said yesterday. Not what you said earlier today when you tipped me off.”

“You weren’t like this yesterday or earlier.” You argue, holding your ground.

Jason steps forward, making you take steps back until your back hits the alley wall behind you and your heart spikes. Your head isn’t throbbing but a very small part of you, is a little bit scared. This isn’t him. Jason wouldn’t try to kill Dick. Jason does not threaten you. But there’s a look in his eyes and if he’s willing to kill Dick and attack his friends, what’s he willing to do to you?

“Go. Home.” Jason warns.

The anger is flooding every aspect of him and he wants to give in. His brain says it's gonna be fun. It'll feel good to fight and argue. It'll be great to say everything that's crossing his mind right now. He won't feel guilty or fear or worry. It's it's own little high if he just gives in. Just a little bit. But the other parts fight hard with his teeth gritting together. He fights against the anger. Because it's you.

"What-what are you gonna do if I don't?" You lack venom in your voice because you're actually curious and worried what he'll do. For the first time in knowing him, you're worried what he might do. You know he won't do anything. You know he won't. If he were going to, he would have already. But it crosses your mind anyway.

His eyes are locked on yours and he wants to fight so bad. It's going to be fun and thrilling, it'll make him feel something incredible. But only for that moment, until the high wears off. That part of him that's still him, is banging and foaming at the mouth with a wailing cry, begging him to let it go and turn around. It's as if the drug is keeping the good parts of him locked away in a prison and Jason has to decide which side he's going to be on.

But it's you.

It's never really a thought at the end of the day.

Jason takes a step back, his fists balling at his sides. Not you.

"Just go and don't fucking tell anyone." Jason warns. "You promised you wouldn't and you said you don't break them. So, fucking don't." Jason uses your own words against you.

Relief starts to come over you and you've never seen him look at you like this. Dick is right. You hate that that thought is what comes to mind. Somehow, Dick is the one that's right here. This is not the Jason you know and love. He's high and something bad is coming from this. You're going to figure out what's going on, the full story, and you're going to get him back or die trying. He's in there, yesterday proved it.

"Fine." You agree because you aren't about to argue further when he's high. You don't want to see where this is going to go or how bad it can get. "But get your shit together, Jason. I'm serious." You move past him.

"Don't do anything stupid. I'm doing this." Jason huffs.

You shake your head and Dick can handle himself. You turn to face him. "You leave me and Gar the fuck out of your shit with Dick." You warn.

"Fine." Jason agrees. He never wants to hurt Gar anyway.

"Okay." You let out a reluctant sigh. "You know," You start as you turn to fully face him. "I'll figure it out, right? You know I will. I don't know what you need to do to prepare for that, but I will. And I'm gonna get you back." You hold your voice steady.

Jason raises a brow at you. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Jason swears you can't know what's really going on. You know about the formula but Jason also knows he left a code in it to throw you, specifically, off. He doesn't think you'll figure it out and he's not entirely sure how you know anything else. He wonders if he's really acting so differently that it's sending up enough red flags.

"I know you better than anyone. I'll figure it out." You turn around. "Not giving up on you, Jay." You grab your helmet from the bike and he should be angry.

He should be scared but all he can do is laugh and there he is. There's the Jason you know. The real Jason would find you being nonchalant and casual right after that exchange amusing. It's why you did it. He's in there somewhere and you're gonna get him back. You just saw him yesterday and Dick showed you the formula. You don't like that he has to be right but he clearly is. So, you'll get him back, you're certain.

"You gonna stay outta my way then?" Jason gives you that signature grin of his and something about it eases some of your own worry.

"Guess I'll have my hands full while I figure it out so..." He can't see it, but you're smirking under your mask and helmet.

"Good fucking luck." Jason states as you start up the bike. You nod your head once before you peel off into the street.

He should be worried you'll figure it out. But he isn't and not just because of the drug. If you're busy digging into him, that means you won't be around the Titans. That means he can continue on with the plan without having to make sure you're safe. He can be as free as he wants to execute the plan in whatever way is necessary. You won't be the one caught in the crossfire. Jason is confident you won't figure it out because you have too much faith in him. You'll never believe he went to Crane.

Or maybe that's just the drug talking.

When you get back to the Manor, you meet Dick in the kitchen who's still awake trying to figure out how the hell Jason is alive. You didn't provide any information and announced you'd be back before you just left him standig inside of Jason's grave. He's hoping maybe you're willing to give him some information now since you're the one that asked to talk.

Dick places a cup of coffee in front of you as he takes his own seat in front of you at the one of the kitchen counters. "What do you know?" Dick questions, cutting right to the chase.

On the way back, you bounced back and forth on what you'd say and what you wouldn't. Jason's using and that's a problem. He's attacking the Titans which is also a problem. And he's acting weird towards you. You like to believe you can handle most things on your own but it's never really gotten you anywhere and you can't afford to fuck this one up this time just because you're stubborn and loyal to a fault.

"Look, my loyalty lives and dies with him." You state before you raise your brows. "Well, I guess lives, dies, then lives again." You roll your eyes. "And I'm not gonna betray him but...I actually don't know much." You state. "I just knew he was alive, not really anything else. He called me yesterday and asked me to meet up with him. I did. And it was him."

"How did you know it was him?" Dick asks and he isn't sure if he should believe you. You left abruptly, likely to meet up with Jason and now you want to talk? But, he's willing to listen.

"You and me." You answer. "Something we always said. He mentioned the necklace he gave me." You state as Dick glances to the infinity charm around your neck. "There's a tracker in it but only he would know that. Bruce didn't know. At least, we don't think he knew Jason did that. Few other things but that was the big one." You chew the inside of your cheek. "He, uh, he seemed...normal all things considered."

Dick's eyes narrow and he finds it hard to believe that's all you know. Dick knows the two of you were thick as thieves and you'd both go to the ends of the Earth to defend each other. But, you did admit to knowing you knew when Dick asked and Dick is getting the feeling you aren't lying this time.

"And you don't know anything else?" Dick pushes.

You take a sip of your coffee before straightening your back and clearing your throat. Dick already knows about the drug and suspects Jason is using so telling Dick that sucks, but he already knows. It's just confirmation and telling Dick how Jason is alive doesn't seem too bad. It's a Lazurus Pit, that can't be too much information. But, you decide to keep Jason having a partner to yourself. It seems safer that way. If they're dangerous like Jason thinks they are, it should be safer to keep that to yourself. But, telling Dick everything else, might be helpful in getting the old Jason back. You hate yourself for it. You hope he'll understand one day, you hope Jason will forgive you for it.

You don't think you'll forgive yourself.

"Lazarus pit. That's what he said. He said he doesn't really know how it works but someone put him in it and brought him back. That's all." You leave out him working with someone, figuring maybe that's for his own protection.

"Ra's Al Ghul probably." Dick lets out a scoff.

"League of Assassins, right?"

Dick nods his head. "Yeah."

"Think they have something to do with it? Besides the Lazurus pit?"

Dick shakes his head. "No, they would have no reason to bring Jason back, and Ra's isn't even in Gotham."

"Alright, well what are you thinking?" You ask in hopes maybe Dick has some insight. At the end of the day, you know you have a bias. You know your emotions can get in the way when it comes to Jason but Dick can put all of that aside to see what he needs to.

"You said you know him better than anyone." Dick nods his head. "Was he using? When you saw him?"

You hang your head before you offer Dick a solemn expression. "I don't know if he was using before he died. If he was, he hid it well but..." You roll your shoulders, chewing the inside of your cheek and you really hope Jason understands one day. "He was high when I met up with him." You admit, catching Dick off guard. "He wasn't yesterday but he was tonight. And for the fucking record," You state harshly. "That is the only fucking reason I'm telling you anything."

Dick didn't want to believe Jason could be using either. It's a hard pill to swallow and the confirmation does hurt him. But, Dick isn't too surprised. He found the formula and that would explain why Jason went after the Joker and how you don't know much of anything. Jason wouldn't want you involved.

"He must have been high. Maybe that's why he went after the Joker that night. Maybe he was high." Dick keeps his voice level as you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, probably." You scoff with the shake of your head. "And I missed it all which is shit. But, you know," You suck in a breath. "There's more to it and I know you know that. Him making the fucking drug and then taking it is weird as shit even for him. With his mom and shit...it just..." You shake your head. "Doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe it's a favor for someone." Dick offers, agreeing that the drug use and making seems a bit uncharacteristic.

Jason said he's working with someone and you think maybe the drug is a part of that. Whoever he's working with had to be the same person that brought him back which means they'd have to know he died in the first place. Likely would know he was going out to die which also means the Joker plan was actually a plan. You run it over in your head and the more you think about it, the more it sounds like whoever did this, had him killed on purpose with the intention to manipulate him. If the drug is linked then so is everything else.

"He'd need a good enough motive for that though." You suck in a breath. "So, if that's true, it has to be the person who brought him back, right? But, I don't know who that is. Jason didn't say shit."

"Why wouldn't he tell you?" Dick asks. "He told you a lot, didn't he?"

"Yeah, fucking sucks being left out." You snip back. "But, yeah, I don't know. He just said he can't and that was the end of it." You shrug. "Jason has only kept things a secret from me out of self-preservation that's actually just self-destruction or to protect me. So, not too big a fan of this."

"Okay well, I need you to meet up with him again and talk to him." Dick states. "We need answers and if you keep pushing him, maybe he'll tell you more."

"That's not....that's not fair. Talk about what? You want me to meet up with him and tell him to stop fucking around? And tell me everything as if I didn't already do that?" You huff. "What do you think I went to do tonight? I went for fucking answers and got none besides finding out he's high which he did not tell me. It was just obvious."

"If anyone can get to the bottom of it, it would be you. Like you said you know him better than anyone. He didn't tell me or Gar he was alive. He was shooting at me. But, he got you to meet up with him and told you first. You already know more than any of us so even if this is a new version of him that came back, the old Jason is in there somewhere. Enough to trust you." Dick tries his best to reason with you even if he knows it might be a waste of his breath.

"So, you want me to betray him?" You quip back, guilt rattling your bones like a storm cellar in the middle of a tornado.

Jason trusts you and that's not something you would ever take lightly. The one thing the two of you have always had with each other is trust. From the very first day, there has been this trust between you. It's just how it is and you getting any information and telling Dick, would be a betrayal of trust. Anything Jason says to you, you know without him even saying anything, is in confidence because it always is just as it is for you. You do not want to ever betray him, not after everything.

"No," Dick shakes his head. "It's not betrayal."

"He's gonna tell me not to tell you shit. And we both know I will listen to him." You urge and you do not want to be in the middle of it but you can't betray him. Everyone always does and you will not be like everyone else. "You want me to pick sides and look, okay? I know you guys are good and cleared up your shit and you're brothers but you are the like...leader of the Titans. That's where your loyalty lies. Gar, Kory, Conner, Dawn, Hank, they're all Titans. They will side with you. They all would follow you no matter what. Who the fuck does Jason have? That's what this shit always boils down to. He doesn't have anyone, Dick. It's just....him and me." You roll your shoulders.

"What if it saves him from himself?" Dick nods his head.

"What if it gets him killed permanently?" You question.

"You can still try. You don't have to turn on him. If he doesn't tell you not to tell us, you can come back and tell us." Dick offers, trying his best to be a voice of reason. He knows this is hard but Jason is out there killing people, innocent people, and now he's targeting the Titans. He needs to be stopped, regardless on how you feel about it.

"It's always shit said in confidence though. That's how it always is. If...if I do that, hard if, how are we supposed to come back from that? I would have been another person that betrayed his trust. It doesn't fucking matter what he's doing. I can't do that." You shake your head as you plead with Dick. "I'm not a Titan right now. My loyalty is still with him. And I don't want in the middle of it." You state. "Look, I don't even really disagree with him. He said he's cleaning up Gotham and like I said, Bruce's ways don't work. Jason, clearly, is on the same page."

"But you're having this conversation with me right now and that tells me at least some part of you doesn't agree."

"Yeah, I don't agree with him coming after the Titans and I'm worried about the drug side of this. That's the only reason we're even discussing this. I will always be on his side. I don't know if there's anything he can do that would make me quit. And this is hard enough as it is, Dick." You chew the inside of your cheek, tugging your sleeves over your hands. "I don't think he'll forgive me for telling you anything and I can't....I can't betray him more than this."

You know, without a doubt, if the roles were reversed, Jason would never give up on you. You won't do it to him, either.

"Do you believe this is all Jason? He woke up from the dead and chose this?"

It's something that's been bothering her. Him waking up and choosing this is not far-fetched. Him dying, choosing this, and neglecting to tell anyone including her about it, that's the weird part. Sam doesn't know what happened when he died but she has to believe that there is more going on. There has to be more than him just dying and neglecting to tell her anything. There has to be.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I did. He died and I chose this. So, I don't know." You clear your throat because as much as you want to believe this is all Jason, you know there's more. And you're terrified it's going to get bad. He went after Dick and this is more than Jason just trying to fight him in the Tower. "Okay, look, yeah I think something bad is going on. It is weird. I didn't decide to become a crime lord and make a drug. If, hard if, he tells me something I think I can get away with telling you, I will. But only if Jason gives me a reason to." You shake your head deciding that would be okay. Jason has to give you a reason though.

Dick nods his head and he knew it would be a long shot. "Okay."

Dick hopes you'll actually tell him anything. He needs answers and he'll keep digging himself, but you would be a big help in all of this. But, he knows the two of you have loyalty that runs deeper than the Titans.

"But," You suck in a breath. "This stays between us. I don't want the other Titans to know. They'll freak out. Well, Hank and Dawn anyway." You roll your eyes. "You know Gar, he'll believe Jason is in there somewhere. Conner doesn't know him well enough but he'll probably side with Gar or follow you anyway. Kory was the only one who didn't accuse Jason of anything. So, but if you tell one of them then you have to tell everyone so...stays between us."

You do not want Jason to figure out you're even having a conversation about working with Dick. That can't happen because you already said you won't work with the Titans. There is a reason Jason wants you out of it. If the Titans know you already knew and Dick and you had a conversation, that'll send up a red flag if it gets back to Jason somehow. And the Titans trust Dick. It has to stay between you and Dick.

"Deal." Dick sticks his hand out and you shake it. "I know this is hard but you're doing the right thing."

"If you say so." You roll your eyes. "That also means you have to get Gar off my back though. I can't go trying to meet up with Jason and Gar is right there. He won't tell me shit if Gar's around."

"Can you stop killing people?" Dick questions as he raises his brows.

You narrow your eyes. "Just while you're in town and while we sort this shit out. Got my hands a little full with Jason's shit. I still have a whole hitlist to get through, though." You raise your mug at him.

"That's not funny." Dick wanrs.

"It's not a joke." You chuckle. "I know you don't agree with me but I promise I'm not killing people who don't deserve it. I can give you their endless rap sheets. Guy I killed tonight while you guys were busy was lacing drugs and selling directly to kids and I mean like middle schoolers. He's been put away ten fucking times. They just keep letting him out. He's gotten over a hundred kids killed. Those are the fucks I'm killing. You don't have to agree with me but you should try to understand my point of view of it." You point a finger at him.

"I do." Dick nods his head. "Less kids people like him can kill but where do you draw the line?"

"Do you want to know? I have a line. They have to meet certain criteria otherwise I just scare the ever-living shit out of them and rough them up real bad."

"You have criteria?" Dick asks, his voice a mix of being appalled and confused.

"Yeah, I agree with you. We can't go out playing judge, jury, and executioner all the damn time. That's not justice. But, the system fails to protect people like me and you and Jason and Molly. It always has. It didn't protect my dad, who albeit is still a piece of shit probably, but he was hooked when he was in school. It didn't help Jason's mom. It looks at us and laughs in our faces and tells us to deal with it because we can't do anything about it. I'm doing that and hey, Jason's off his damn rocker, but he's targeting some bad people."

"Are you going to be able to live with yourself with their blood on your hands? I think that's why Jason stopped you from killing Jerry. He didn't want you to have that on your conscious."

"You know," You furrow your brows as you shake your head. "I killed some of CADMUS. And uh, I mean, I feel bad about it a little. I killed people, that's a heavy thing to carry. But, they tried to kill me, Gar, Conner, and Krypto. They tortured them. I feel bad because I'm not a monster but I also know it's what had to be done. I kill these guys and it's like...I feel bad. Someone out there gives a fuck about them. Someone out there is going through what I went through when Jason died. I feel bad for them. And I feel bad for taking a life but then I look at how many people they've either permanently hurt or killed, and I'm keeping track. I'm keeping track of every person I save by killing them. And I feel less bad about it. I feel bad because they were a person with a life and a beating heart. But, I can live with it because of the list of people I'm saving in the process. That sounds a little, uh, egotistical but it's true. That's why there's a criteria. Killing one person by accident doesn't mean they get to die. That's not justice. It's gotta be bad. Batman walks the streets and it doesn't stop these fucks. I feel bad about it, but....it's better than them killing and torturing people with no reason to stop."

"So, you think Bruce was right for throwing all of his morals away to kill the Joker?"

You let out a snort. "No, but that's not because of his morals and shit. I think anyone is capable of throwing their morals away for certain shit without it actually changing their moral compass, like Bruce killing the Joker." You explain as you sip your coffee. "But, I think it's fucked Jason had to die. None of the other people mattered enough to do something permanent about him. It took Jason's brutal murder for him to finally do something and I gotta problem with that. If anyone should have killed him, it should have been me. He killed my mom and he took Jason. Bruce only did it for Jason. I think, if you're gonna kill people for the greater good, it shouldn't be because of one single person. It should be for the greater good. There should be a list of reasons why you're killing someone. A list of reasons why they have to die. I gave Bruce all of those reasons and those weren't enough. Jason was. And that's not fucking fair to every other person that had to suffer by the hands of the Joker. So, no, fuck Bruce for killing him now. What's he gonna do? Come back and welcome Jason with open arms as if he isn't the reason Jason was murdered in the first place? Fucking stupid."

"Have you been thinking about all this this whole time?" Dick can't help but chuckle.

"Yeah," You shake your head. "And Jason but....that's been a topic I don't so much like to think about lately. So, I made a hit list." You smile softly. "Got a list of bad people to get through that Bruce won't do shit about."

"So, what you gonna go off after the Penguion next? Does he fall under your criteria since the Joker's gone?" Dick quips back, mostly digging to make sure you aren't planning on doing something like Jason.

"Nah, I think he's a fun little guy." You let out a laugh. "Something about him makes me laugh. He's bad, too sure, but he's not...that bad in the grand scheme of shit. Ya know? Penguin, sometimes helps here and there. He's not evil."

"You've had the pleasure of meeting him, then, I'm guessing?" There's a smile tugging at Dick's lips.

"Oh yeah. We went after him for something with Bruce once and I just thought he was funny. He was so serious and somehow not. If the camp genre were a person, it would be Penguin. So, I start actually laughing which then made him really mad and naturally made the whole thing that much funnier to me. So, Jason starts bursting out laughing at the top of his lungs. We're both doubled over and Penguin's face starts turning all red and he was stomping his foot. He starts yelling at Bruce to get us to stop and take him seriously and we don't know who we're messing with." You shake your head mockingly as you laugh. "His goons were trying desperately not to laugh with us!" You say through a hearty laugh. "I thought Bruce was gonna blow. But, I think he wanted to laugh, too."

"Yeah, he's always been a fun one to deal with." Dick chuckles softly. "I used to give him hell. Make fun of him. When I was Robin."

"Good, it's a lot of fun." You laugh. "I mean, he's like you. He goes by fucking Penguin and you go by Dick. You guys are setting yourself up for the jokes."

"I can't believe you just compared me to Penguin." Dick deadpans before a small smile cracks the corner of his lips.

"Facts don't lie, Dickolas."

You take another drink of your coffee and Dick is trying to be a better leader. You're going through it. Somehow, you're the one stuck in the middle of everything and you're the one most likely to be hurt in this mess. The person you care about most died and is now lying to you and fighting your friends. This can't be easy.

"Really, how did it go with Jason?" Dick asks, earning an eyebrow raise from you. "I'm asking for you, not for information."

"You being caring is kind of freaking me out." You chortle before you shake your head as a side smile starts to come to your lips. "Good, I think." You nod. "Ya know, Jason remembers everything. About us..." Your brows furrow tightly as your face falls. "And he said he remembers dying. So, there's that. Uh, but he seemed...mostly normal, actually besides the hair." You gesture to the front of your head as you crack a small smile.

"Yeah, I saw that. What's up with that anyway?" Dick chuckles. "At least he seemed okay. He told you he remembers dying?"

"Side effect of the Lazarus Pit, I guess." You shrug a shoulder. "He didn't want to talk about it, remembering dying I mean. But he said he remembers." You clear your throat. "So, that's a little worrisome. Ya know, given how Jason deals with trauma which is that he literally does not." You roll your eyes. "But, at least he's alive ya know? Being a shithead again but alive."

"Yeah, that's true. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, just need some time to process it." You clear your throat. "When you tell the Titans and half of them inevitably flip out because I knew, let them. I'll be fine." You hop down from your seat. "Like I said, they trust you. Keep it that way. They won't trust me regardless. We all know my loyalty is with him. They can't know you knew I knew. I'll be fine. I've told them off before." You start your walk to the doorway. "Night, Dick." You offer a soft smile and a nod before you spin on your heels and leave Dick alone.

Gar wakes you up the following day, saying Dick has called a meeting with everyone. You know exactly what the meeting is about and everything starts to ache from the pit of your stomach. It sucks that they're all going to know you knew and didn't tell anyone. And it sucks because that also means they'll know it's Jason under the Red Hood and maybe they won't be so forgiving. They never have been with him.

But you walk with Gar to the main living room anyway. You take a seat beside Gar with Krypto sitting at your feet and the other Titans are scattered around. Dick stands in front of all of you with his arms crossed.

Once everyone is gathered, Dick starts telling you all how he broke Red Hood's helmet last night and it was Jason. He follows it by saying he dug up Jason's grave to verify it was him. You find it weird no one even bats an eye at the grave digging but of course they don't. You keep your stare on Krypto as you pet him, knowing one of them is going to accuse you of knowing as soon as Dick finishes his explanation. You can feel Gar's stare on you and without even looking at him, you know he figured it out. And it nearly kills you because you feel like you betrayed him and that's not fair. Jason put you in the middle of it.

"You knew, didn't you?" Hank glares directly at you.

You look up to him and suck in a breath. "Well..." You shrug, scrunching your nose.

"What the hell?!" Gar yells. "And you didn't tell me!?" Gar stares at you in disbelief and you can handle Hank. He's an ass anyway but Gar? You'll never forgive yourself for keeping it from him even if it was just two days.

"Well, kind of yeah." You chew the inside of your cheek, looking away from Gar.

"And you didn't think to tell any of us?" Kory demands.

You chew your lip. You know you or Dick will tell Kory the entire story eventually and she'll understand but it hurts anyway. "He asked me not to and you all know how deep my loyalty runs with him." You glance to Dick and he doesn't like that this is what they're doing. They're not going to trust you.

"Did you know he was going after the Joker that night? Was this the plan the whole time?" Dawn questions.

It's better that they don't trust you. It's easier for you to pick a side. You need to work Jason's angle but you cannot do that if they know. Jason is smart and he'll figure it out. So, you have to swallow your guilt and stick with being solely and entirely on Jason's side just as you always have been.

"You think I knew?" You scoff. "Like that whole thing? You think I knew and just...let him do it?" You look to Dick again, as if waiting for him to add something in. He's the leader.

"You knew he was alive." Dick adds in.

"Knowing he's alive and knowing what he was up to are two very different things." You state.

"Why should we believe you?" Hank demands. "You've been lying to us the whole time!" Hank fumes as if that's going to get him anywhere.

"Because? I wouldn't let him get himself killed. In case you forgot." You retort as you scrunch your face. It is actually ridiculous Hank thinks you knew Jason was going after the Joker and let him do it. The anger starts to wash over any guilt you had just minutes ago.

"Hey! We apologized for that shit!" Hank yells. "How do we know you didn't know he was going to get killed on purpose and get brought back. Pretty convenient, isn't it?" Hank spits.

You can feel your blood start to boil. You knew this is what was going to happen but it's annoying anyway. It's the fact they think you would let him get killed. It's the fact they think he would go out and get killed on purpose. They didn't even really know him. They don't really know you. They think your grief was all fake. You get they don't believe you, you can see why. But it's also absurd. They should be mad you didn't tell them, but they should believe you would do everything in your power to stop him from going after The Joker. They should believe Jason wouldn't get killed on purpose. This is all so absurd and you aren't going to let them drag you and Jason through the mud when they don't know anything.

You nod and let out a dry and narrowed chuckle. "You know how you can believe me? Call Bruce, hunt him down, hunt down the phone records or whatever, listen to the phone call." You look to Dick. "You can ask Babs if she thinks my reaction was fucking fake. You can ask Molly who found me on the bathroom floor. I don't care but I didn't fucking know and fuck you for thinking I did." You look back to Hank with glassy eyes. "Do you know what it's like to try CPR knowing it's useless? I was covered in his blood. I didn't fucking know and he didn't get killed on fucking purpose."

"You really didn't know." Gar says quietly.

"Nope." You shake your head. "I found out two days ago."

"What about the drug? Did he say anything?" Dick asks, hoping that can calm the room down. He doesn't think you knew any of it.

"Nope. I wouldn't let him make a drug. Ask Bruce, I told him I was gonna call you and have you bring us back. Bring him back kicking and screaming if we had to."

"Are you supposed to believe this shit?" Hank yells out, gesturing a hand towards you. "Dick, come on, she's been lying to us this damn whole time. He was prepared for us to show up last night. She tipped him off!"

"Hey, fuck you!" You scream back. "Maybe he was just fucking prepared. It was a damn code! I didn't tip him off!"

"I don't fucking believe this shit!" Hanks storms.

"That's a you problem then." You quip. "Can I go now? This is you guys problem."

"No, we're not done here." Hank boasts.

"Okay, so finish up." You snark back.

"Look, Jason did this to himself and we need to find out what else he's planning." Hank crosses his arms. "He needs to be stopped."

You let out this laugh that sounds both heartbroken and pissed. "Okay."

"I always knew something was off about that kid." Hank scoffs.

"Fuck." You yell. "Seriously?" Your eyes start to water. "What the fuck is...." You pause, looking to Gar. "You know what, you're not fucking worth it. You're just gonna sit here and victim blame anyway. Have ya noticed the rest of the room is simply...confused and not losing their shit? That's just you, pal."

"He isn't a fucking victim!" Hank scoffs with a laugh. "He got himself into this mess. He could have walked away!"

"How can you say he isn't a victim? I know he told you! His mom being an addict and neglectful, yeah, victim. His dad was abusive, victim. The system? In and out of shitty foster homes, victim. Bruce took Robin away without ever having a conversation about it, victim. You...treat him like shit, victim. All of you made him want to kill himself, victim. The Joker murdered him with a crowbar, victim." You scoff. "You're not a fucking hero and I think you're the one that needs to hang up the cape and mask if you can't grasp the simple concept of a victim."

"We all have bad experiences but we're not looking to get ourselves killed and start killing." Dawn states softly.

"I'm not out there killing people." Hank grits his teeth at you "He needs to be stopped and whoever the hell he's working with, whether you like it or not, kid." Hank scoffs as he moves towards the hallway.

You aren't done yet though. You do not like Hank and if he's really going to point the blame at Jason for everything that led him here, you're going to get under his skin.

"Before you go, if I did know more, I wouldn't tell you guys anyway. I'm killing people, too and you guys don't have an issue with that. Just Jason. So, uh, you guys are on your own with this one. I'm with him." You grin back at Hank and you want to push him further. Really drive home the point you're not with them. You also just don't like him. His apology seemed more hollowed and like he was doing it because Dawn said it was the right thing to do.

"We're not playing fucking games here!" Hank yells and Dick wants to know what you're doing. You could have let him walk off and let it rest. But it is you. You don't usually do that when it comes to Jason.

"Oh, I'm not playing games either. But I know him better than anyone so while you guys are thinking poorly of him, I'll be on his side actually listening to him like I always have which then I'll get more information and I'm not sharing." You shake your head with a grin.

"Hey, kid, we're not messing around." Hank threatens. "You're gonna tell us what you know, or we're switching teams. You won't like that."

You let out a booming laugh. "Yeah, Hank? And uh, what the fuck are you gonna do about it?" You question him with a sinister grin as you get to your feet. "Gonna fight me? Torture me? Threaten to kill me? Go for it. Here's a statistic for you: Torture doesn't work. It's been proven. People are more likely to give you false information just to get it to stop. And considering the fact I was tortured for a year and nearly murdered twice, that shit does not scare me. You'll have to kill me before you get to him. And if it comes down to that, I'll have given him the heads up."

"Unbelievable." Dick sighs.

"Told you, I'd hide a body for him."

"I don't want to kill him." Dick states.

"I will." Hank scoffs. "If it ends up him versus me, kid's going down."

"So, we're killing Jason now?" Dawn questions, almost appalled. She's confused by the whole thing but you're right. The Jason you all know isn't a murderer. There is something else going on and they don't kill their own.

"Jason's always had his issues but he wasn't a full-blown psychopath." Kory adds in.

"I still think he was using. The Batcomputer didn't find anything but I found the place he was cooking." Dick states.

"He wrote his own ticket. He starts taking people out, game's over." Hank scowls.

"And you'll have to go through me, Hank." You step past Krypto, taking a few steps towards Hank. "You're not gonna kill him. I might not be able to take on Dick, but you?" You laugh. "In my sleep." Hank steps forward, Dick stopping him. "Ohhh, scary." You mock him. "I'm not fucking afraid of you." You mock him and then it hits you.

The conversation with Jason, a cure for fear. You said it would affect his adrenaline. He wouldn't care for things. It would have side effects besides just getting rid of his fear. He made a drug. He's working with someone. The way he was acting weird yesterday. He attacked Dick. Jason went after the Joker and missed the Joker right behind him. Drug that cures fear would also block out basic instincts like someone lurking behind him. Drug that cures fear.

You're gonna kill him.

You shake your head. "Here's the deal, figure it out yourselves because I'm not fighting him and I'm not betraying him. Ever. I don't fucking care. Now, I've got some shit to do so if you'll excuse me." You walk up to Dick. "You have that formula?"

Dick eyes you with confusion, pulling the paper from his pocket. "Why?"

"Told you, I'm gonna figure it out and I'm not sharing." You snatch the paper from him and leave the Titans to themselves.

"Thanks for the backup, man." Hank turns to Dick.

"Let it go, Hank." Dick lets out a sigh. "I believe her. You should, too." Dick leaves the room.

You head to your room and sit down on the bed with the formula. You pull out the tablet and start working on it. You do research into some of the files Bruce has, trying to figure it out. You make a lot of progress on it but there's a part of it that doesn't make sense. It's not a chemical or a compound. It doesn't actually mean anything. And you're thinking Jason prepared for this.

You think Jason prepared for someone to find it. Dick did it his first day which means he didn't really hide it. Jason is smart. And clearly likes codes. Maybe he should have teamed up with the damn Riddler. That might be better than what you're thinking because you have suspicions this missing piece of the formula is a code for something he didn't want anyone to figure out. And you were never very good with codes but you know someone who might be.

You make your way inside of the restaurant where you see Mr. Drake behind the counter. You offer him a kind smile, stuffing your hands deep into your jacket pockets.

"Hey, haven't seen you in awhile. The usual?" He asks.

"Uh, yeah, but um...I was actually wondering if, uh, if Tim were around? I promise I'm ordering the usual." You let out a soft laugh as you roll your shoulders.

"Yeah, of course." Mr. Drake looks over his shoulder. "Tim! Come out here, please."

Tim walks out a few seconds later, stumbling slightly over a box. Tim sees you and he's surprised to see you. Tim is very observant and he knows something that no one else has been able to figure out. He thought you might be down and out for a while because of it.

"Hey." Tim greets with confusion.

"Hey, do you like puzzles? Like codes." You rush out, trying to make it sound casual. "Genius."

"Uh..." Tom chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Can you help me with one?"

Tim walks from behind the counter, resting a hand on your arm and moving you both off to the side. "Are you okay?" Tim questions and he's known you a little through the years, not really well. But, he thinks he knows you well enough to know something weird is going on. Your boyfriend just died. "I saw Jason...on the news." Tim states.

Your eyes widen, somehow forgetting that naturally all of Gotham who watches any bit of the news or keeps up with things on social media would know Bruce Wayne's newest son was killed in a 'tragic accident'. Of course, Tim knows that.

"Right, yeah, no, uh, it's been really fucking hard. I, I just can't focus on it. I'll start crying. Thank you though." You brush it off and you wish you didn't have to lie so damn much.

"Why do you need help?" Tim's brows furrow, not buying it.

"It's a game kind of." You roll your shoulders. "I mean, you're really smart so..."

"Don't you live with Bruce Wayne? Isn't Dick Grayson back, too? They're really smart. Why are you coming to me?" Tim crosses his arms and he's definitely digging for information.

"If you can't help, that's fine. But I thought it was worth a shot." You shrug and you used the Batcomputer to look into him.

You've talked every time you've come to get food. You don't have many friends. And Molly is smart but not like this and you can't risk Molly going to Dick about it. Tim doesn't know any of them well enough to go back to Dick. And Jason probably won't figure out you went to Tim given you tend to keep Jason's secrets locked away with all of yours.

"Come on." Tim gestures for you to follow him and you offer him a wide smile.

You follow Tim into the side door through part of the building that leads into a hallway. Tim opens a door further down the empty hallway and walks right in with a sense of pride. You see an entire set up of computers and crime boards. On the walls, he has pictures of the Titans and Robin and Batman. He's definitely doing research into all of them and you think it's funny. You both always talked about who Batman and Robin could be but you did expect him to literally be putting together actual research, not like this. Him looking into Batman and Robin is kind of whatever at this point, but the Titans has your interests piqued.

"You looking into the Titans?" You gesture a finger lazily to one of the walls with pictures and news articles.

Tim holds his head up high. "I know you're a Titan." Tim holds the most confident grin you have ever seen.

You do a double take. "What?"

"You're a Titan. Acid generation, I'm guessing combat clairvoyance, too." Tim explains with ease.

Your brows furrow and you have no idea how the hell he even knows that. He hasn't been able to figure out Batman and Robin for years, but he figured you out in only a few months? A part of you is actually offended. You swore you did a better job of hiding your identity than Dick and Jason did.

"I'm not a Titan? They're from San Francisco and I'm definitely born and raised right here which you know." You raise.

"But you were uprooted, two years ago to San Francisco." Tim walks over to a desk and pulls out a file, handing it over.

You take it cautiously and you hope he knows this whole thing is weird. But, you open the files anyway and it contains information on Jerry and where you moved to. Which only makes you question how he got this because those records are supposed to be sealed.

"How the fuck did you get this?" You close the file, waving it slightly.

Tim shrugs. "I'm good with computers."

"You hacked into CPS and the GCPD to get this?" Your eyes narrow and he's definitely completely insane for this. What if he were wrong? You do admire the dedication though.

"And SFPD." Tim adds in. "Jerry was beat up pretty bad but it was just...brushed off. I think it was you. They found someone there, but it wasn't you."

"Okay, there's so much wrong with all of this, like you know that, right?" You ask. "And why the hell were you looking into me? I'm not a Titan and this is weird."

"I know it's you. The acid really gives you away. And I recognized how you walked." Tim explains. "And I've been looking into all of the Titans so..."

"You...what? You know how I walk? Do you know how insane that sounds or?" You're trying desperately to think of a lie for him to believe but at this point, you're not sure there's anything you can really say. He has it all figured out with you.

"I have a photographic memory." Tim states. "And the acid isn't some run-of-the-mill acid. It's a specific chemical compound. It's like a fingerprint."

"Okay, I'll humor this for a minute. If you live in Gotham and the girl you're thinking is me is from San Francisco, how exactly do you know the chemical compound of Bluejay and the Titan are the same?"

"The internet." Tim scoffs. "There are forums dedicated to you guys."

"Haven't you ever heard not to believe everything you read online?"

Tim chuckles softly. "Okay, I also know who Nightwing is, Batman...Robin." Tim looks to the ground with the last word and your face falls.

"Yeah, you sound insane," You let out a huff but if Tim does know this might be a problem for Dick later so you'll humor this a little longer. "I am interested in all of this though, so how do you know all of this?"

"Dick Grayson is Nightwing, former Robin. Robin1.0. Dick Grayson was in the Flying Graysons and he can perform a certain trapeze trick that only two people in the world could perform. Dick and his father. You know who else can do that trick? Nightwing and Robin 1.0." Tim explains with excitement as if he's been dying to share this with someone. "Bruce took in Dick and if Dick is Robin, Bruce has to be Batman." Tim continues. "I knew another Robin came in because the fighting style was different, the way he walked, the height difference."

"That's what I pointed out, too, to be fair." You point out.

"Exactly, well, Bruce Wayne took in Jason Todd." Tim looks away. "And...well..." Tim sucks in a breath.

"Robin 2.0 and Jason died around the same time, right?" You fill in what Tim doesn't want to say.

Tim nods shyly. "Yeah, and I recognized how he walked, too when you introduced us that day." Tim clears his throat. "So, if Dick is Nightwing, he's a Titan. Jason would have also been a Titan. That's how you met them. Now you live with Bruce during the same time Bluejay shows up."

You think about it for a second and actually, how has no one else figured that out? It is actually so obvious. But, you can't tell Tim that. He might be your friend but there's a lot going on and Dick and Bruce's secrets aren't yours to tell, even when you're mad at Bruce. It's not your place. And, honestly, you're a little worried what would happen if Jason ever found out Tim knew, especially right now. Would it paint a target on his back? To know Red Hood is Jason Todd? You won't risk it.

"Solid theory, I'll give you that but I also know Bruce and Dick. And uh, Bruce isn't a hero and Dick is a good detective, that's all. I'm just trying to survive. So, your math is a little off. But, I do need your help so we can keep going back and forth or you can help me." You change the subject before Tim gets any further into this. Dick is going to lose it.

"Alright, what is it?" Tim lets out a sigh but he knows he'll come back to it.

"Okay, I have this bit." You hand him a piece of paper where you traced the letters. "I don't know what it means but I know it's a code for something. And I think some of these chemicals are codes for real chemicals or something. They're not real so..."

"What's it for?" Tim quirks a brow as he gives you a grin.

"That's for me to figure out after you tell me what it means." You smile cheekily at him.

"You want my help but you're not gonna tell me?"

"No." You laugh. "It's just a project, it's not relevant."

"Okay." Tim sighs, walking over to one of the tables and you follow him.

Tim is definitely being so forthcoming because he knows he's right. He's helping a Titan right now. He's so sure of it and that's why you won't tell him anything. He had his suspicion of you and Jason. When you both came in, you both usually had some sort of bruise on you. And Tim had already figured out Jason was Robin. You were an easy puzzle piece to place after that. And he's definitely going to help a Titan.

"Got some of the chemicals for you." Tim states after a few minutes, showing you some of his work. You spent an hour on that and couldn't figure it out. How does he do that?

You look over the paper and you recognize a few of the chemicals but nothing rings a bell. "Huh." You mutter. "Anything else?"

"What are the chemicals used for?" Tim questions.

"I don't know." You shrug, only half lying. "I'm not a chemist." You quip. "What about the actual title? I mean that has to be a clue."

Tim works for what only seems to be a minute before he slides the paper over with pride. "Fear." Tim states, Tim leans back in his chair with a confident smile but he watches as your face falls.

"What?" You question as you look at the paper hastily.

"Says fear." Tim states. "That's the code."

You look back at him. "You sure?"

"Positive. Why? Is that important?" Tim raises a brow as he watches you carefully.

You were really hoping you'd be wrong but a drug leading to fear, Jason is working with someone that's dangerous. He won't tell you anything. Of all people and of all things Jason would be doing, he's doing this shit?

"Oh, that fucking dumbass." You grit your teeth. "Thank you, this is very helpful. I'm gonna go grab my food and be on my way." You let out a sigh, hopping down from the table as you grab the papers from Tim.

"Wait!" Tim calls after you as you're already headed for the door.

"I can pay you if you want, for your time. Really, I really really appreciate this." You let out a sigh.

"No, not that." Tim shakes his head. "What is it?"

You look at his board with all of the Titans and he's got it all figured out. He'll be fine. "You're really smart. Thank you. Don't do anything fucking stupid, though and be careful. Looking into that shit, might get a little messy." You pause and he's got it figured out. There's no stopping him but you aren't going to risk Scarecrow of all people, figuring out you involved him. "Hey, seriously, do not tell anyone we had this conversation. I was here for food, the usual, end of story. No one."

Tim nods his head. "Are people--"

"Nope, it's, uh, it's a-a murder mystery game we play." You lie. "Everyone is just trying to get my mind off it, ya know?" You suck in a breath. "And don't go telling people you think Bruce and Dick are the heroes. They'll also think you're insane and you'll get yourself committed."

"Isn't that cheating?" Tim raises.

"No, using my resources but they may not see it that way which is why you can't tell anyone." You grin before you turn on your heels and head out.

You head to the place you found Jason sneaking off to before he died. You caught him doing something and you hate to think this is what he was doing behind your back. Making a drug. It's insane to you. Jason was desperate but you had no idea he was that desperate. Of all the things for Jason to do, make a drug and possibly work with Jonathan Crane. He's the maker of the fear gas and he's dangerous. If anyone can make an anti-fear drug, it would be Crane. And you just can't believe Jason would be desperate enough to go to him but you have to know for sure.

Inside the room, you see he does in fact have his own lab. Dick wasn't lying. He really was here, behind your back, making this drug. You're so mad at him. How does he resort to this? How? Because of Robin? He never should have thought Robin was all he'd ever be good at. Jason believed Robin gave him magic. It starts and ends with Robin and Bruce. That's what this always boils down to and you're so angry at Jason and Bruce for it.

Your heart breaks the further you walks into the room, checking out the table where he still has everything laid out. And you still can't believe it. But, you need to know. If you're wrong, you can deal with that on your own. Jason is your responsibility. But, if you're right...you don't think you can keep that to yourself. You don't think you can handle that, not alone. It's going to be more than just getting Jason clean to get him back home. You aren't sure you can do it on your own. You know it's bad science but there's only one way to know for sure without bringing anyone else into this. Jason won't tell you anyway so you lay the formula on the table and get to work.

Jason did the hard part. And he didn't cover his tracks which you can't figure out why he wouldn't. If it was so dyer no one knows what's going on, why would he leave everything out? Why would he even leave the formula out with a clue? Unless that was the point. Jason likes to play games. It's what he does. Maybe that was the point. He coded the formula, leaving it out on purpose just to fuck with Dick and Bruce. You're surprised Dick didn't figure it out but again, maybe that's because even Dick wouldn't think Jason is crazy and desperate enough to go to fucking Scarecrow.

You finish the drug within an hour, the orange liquid loaded into an inhaler Jason left behind. You hold it up and debate it. Taking an unknown drug is a terrible idea. Taking any drug is a bad idea. And this could be a setup. Jason could have left it on purpose, knowing someone would figure it out and maybe take it to see. But you find that to be a long shot because what insane person finds a formula to make a drug and then takes it? Dick wouldn't do that and if this is about Dick, given Jason just tried to kill him, Jason would know Dick wouldn't just take a dug.

You know Jason better than anyone and Jason knows you. You put yourself in Jason's shoes, deciding maybe he'd know you'd figure it out eventually and do something completely idiotic like follow his footsteps which means this wouldn't be a setup. You settle on that logic and put the inhaler to your mouth before pressing the canister down and inhaling at the same time.

Your pupils dilate, your iris turning a bright shade of yellow-orange. And it all melts away.

The guilt you feel with not pestering Jason, him dying, not following him. Everything starts to fade away. The sadness of it all is there but it's more like a distant echo in a deep underground cave. There, but just barely. The guilt feels more like walking through fog instead of barbed wire ripping your throat to shreds. And, for the first time since you left Gotham, you aren't paranoid. You don't feel paranoid or scared. It's all completely gone. Every ounce of it. There's still this small sense of worry but the sadness, it's more of an echo.

The sadness, guilt, paranoia, and worry are caged deep inside the darkest parts of your mind. Screaming and howling to be let free again but the drug stands guard, laughing over their desperate cries. A sinister cackle echoing over everything else, clouding them so they can't break through. And for the first time, you get how Jason got here.

This is nice. You don't feel like you're weighted down anymore. In a way, it actually feels freeing. To not be scared and paranoid and consumed with worry and guilt. It's actually really fucking nice to not feel so damn heavy. But, that feeling of being free doesn't last long before it starts to fade into red-hot anger.

You think about how Jason lied to you, went behind your back. You were supposed to be a team and he left you. He left you to go after the Joker, he died, he made this dug, he became Red Hood without ever having a conversation with you. Jason just tried to kill Dick. He doesn't loop you in anymore. He made this drug that is so damn freeing and he never bothered to offer it to you. He never offered you a cure. He gets to be cured of all of his fear and paranoia while you're left here to suffer. And that pisses you off.

You're just furious with him so you get up and make your way to the Gotham City Gym thinking maybe that's his hideout. That's where you met up two days ago, it has to mean something and you do not care at all what's going to happen. You don't have the fear of consequences anymore. You aren't scared what's going to happen because you showed up there looking for him. It'll be fine, you assure yourself. It'll be the two of you, and Crane will never have to know and if he does, that's fine. You will go after him yourself because even though you're mad at Jason as you make your way on the bike, you still care about him. The love you have for him is still there, wrapping your bones like barbed wire, desperately clinging onto the old parts of you that aren't affected by the drug.

You don't want anything to happen to him. But you're mad. And the drug is letting anger win. So, you get to the old gym and walk right inside.

You find Jason in a room leaning over a chair and all you see is red, missing what he's working on. All you care about is getting answers and letting him know you're pissed and he's not just getting off the hook this time because you love him. This is fucked.

"What the fuck!?" You scream as you shove Jason away from the chair.

Jason turns to face you quickly. "What—" Jason eyes you with confusion, dropping the scalpel on the floor. "What the fuck are you doing here!?"

"Crane!?" You yell as you throw your arm out to the side. "You're working with Jonathan fucking Crane?!"

Jason takes a step back and he's never seen you like this before. Your nostrils flare and your jaw squares. Your pupils are blown and you look ready to kill him.

Oh no.

You figured it out. You took the drug. You figured out the formula. You took it. Why the fuck would you do that?

"How the fuck do you know that?" Jason seethes and he still has the drug pumping in his veins, too. What would normally be fear is clouded with anger.

"I figured it out! I told you I would! And I'm fucking offended you thought I wouldn't! You went to fucking Crane for an anti-fear drug!? Are you insane?!"

"Fuck you!" Jason screams back. "Did you fucking take it!?"

That was not part of the plan. Jason didn't want you involved and that included you taking a drug. It makes him a hypocrite and he knows that but he doesn't care. This is his problem, not yours. This was his decision and he didn't want this for you. If he did, he would have just told you.

"Yeah! And I gotta fucking say, it is nice not dealing with fear and paranoia and shit so fuck you for not telling me and giving it to me!" Your fists ball at your sides, Jason getting a glimpse of your knuckles changing color under the pressure.

"That's a load of shit! You're just saying that cause you're fucking high!" Jason yells back, the drug isn't as fresh for him as it is for you. He's thinking a little clearer than you are.

"Look who's fucking—" You pause, finally looking at the chair and seeing a passed out Hank shirtless with an open cut on his chest and a device lodged halfway into the cut. You shake your head looking back to Jason. "What the hell did I just walk in on?" Your voice comes back down.

"How did you figure it out?" Jason spits back, ignoring your question. He really doesn't want you involved with this one.

"Your erratic behavior before you died. The formula had a code. And you like to play games." You quip back and you see the hint of smirk come to his lips. "Exactly."

"You hate codes. How'd you figure it out?" His voice is a toxic mix of amusement and threatening.

"I'm resourceful. Don't worry, I didn't fucking tell anyone." You spit back. "Hank?" You gesture again as you blink at him.

He doesn't believe you. You're good at a lot of things but cracking puzzles and codes is not one of those things. It's why Jason was careful so that way if you found out, you wouldn't get anywhere. He knows you went to someone for help. You swore you don't lie to him but now you are. The line is being drawn in the sand and Jason decides he might as well throw you the bone. He wants to see exactly where your loyalty actually lies because the drug thinks that's going to be fun. It pumps him with everything Crane has filled his head with, tricking him into thinking it's true. And that includes you not being on his side.

"Putting a bomb in his chest. Wanna help?" Jason shrugs as a grin pulls at his lips as he picks the scalpel off the floor and goes back to Hank.

You watch him for a few seconds and you actually think about it. The drug clouds your judgment and lets you feel anger above everything else. You're pissed at Jason but you're still mad at Hank for earlier. Hanks wants to kill Jason and maybe that's what Hank came here to do. Maybe Hank was going to kill him. Jason is just taking it a step further because it's Jason. Nothing is ever so easy. But, a few seconds go by and you're still mad at Jason. You don't want Jason dead but you do want to piss him off because he pissed you off. An easy way to piss Jason off would be save Hank's dumbass from him.

"Fuck you." You bark, gaining Jason's attention and he thought you might actually take up the offer. He's not sure what he would have done if you did. "No, I'm not gonna help fucking kill him! Have you lost your damn mind? Who the hell are you?!" You scream again and you're starting to question if you're mad enough to kill someone you consider an ally. Hank is not your friend but would you take up the offer, right now, if you weren't so mad at Jason?

"I'm who I've always been!" Jason yells back. "What? Don't fucking like it?" Jason taunts you and he really hopes this will get you to leave.

If you're not going to be on his side, he wants you gone. You being around drives him insane because it's like two sides of him are at a war within him and they can't settle on where to sit or what to believe. They fight hard and fast, one side knowing you can be trusted and Jason loves you. He has to protect you at all costs. No matter what. But, the other side of him is high out of his mind and believes Crane really cares about him and wouldn't lie to him. Crane wouldn't just be using him and manipulating him. Crane is telling the truth and that includes you. Both sides are so torn and it drives Jason completely insane. This thing would be easier if you would just go the fuck away.

"You're not a murderer!"

"You're fucking a hypocrite! You're killing people! Crane was right about you." Jason sneers, closing the distance between you and you don't move even an inch as Jason looks down at you. "I'm fucking better and you hate it." It's like a game of tug of war in Jason's head and the Crane side is winning.

You grit your teeth as more anger starts to flood into your system. He told Crane about you? "Fuck you. Crane knows me? Really?" You huff up at him. "I liked you before."

"When I was fucking weak." Jason sneers. "You always just wanted to fix me. Well, I'm better and I'm not fucking scared. And you can't stand it." Jason lets out this horrid cackle.

You let out a loud groan as you look to the ceiling and even in your clouded state, you know Crane has to be using him. "He's fucking using you and manipulating you. He doesn't give a shit about you. We all do though." You mimic the laugh.

"Fuck you!" Jason huffs. "You don't know shit!" Jason doesn't want to fight with you but he can't help it. He should walk away and he knows he should but it's as if his feet are glued to the floor below him.

"Yeah, been there done that, right?" You look up to him. "He's using you. You just can't fucking see it." You shake your head. "He's a terrible, horrible, shit fucking excuse of a human and I can't believe you think he gives a fuck about you." You aren't sure if you're saying it to hurt him or if it's because it's true. You know there's no way Crane actually cares about him, there's no way not when Jason just made an anti-fear drug. There's more to that but you don't know if you're telling him because he needs to hear it or if you're just trying to hurt him.

The drug loves confrontation.

"You can't stand that I'm better! You hate that I don't need you anymore." Jason shakes his head, his nose scrunching in frustration. "I know what I'm doing and he cares about me unlike you and Dick and Bruce!" Jason screams and he doesn't mean it and he says it anyway. Maybe Crane is right. What if he is right? "We were a fucking mistake! You used me and tried to make yourself feel better by being with me!"

You pause and...that hurt. That still hurt. But instead of heartbreak, it fuels your anger. With the drug, your heartbreak gets confused with anger and all you want to do is hurt him back.

"We were a mistake?" You ask through gritted teeth.

The anti-fear drug doesn't just wipe away fear, it turns perfectly good people into hollowed and cruel skeletons of who they used to be. They're puppets under Crane's control once he says one sentence. Jason being desperate and feeling abandoned led him to Crane but the drug keeps him believing Crane. The drug keeps him in line. And you're having a similar side effect because normally, you'd never even think about hurting Jason but that's all you want because he hurt you. The drug turns perfectly good and decent people, into evil and malicious and calloused versions that are unrecognizable to everyone else.

Jason shrugs his shoulders. "Weren't we?" Jason questions and he doesn't mean it. But the panic and pain and fear is replaced with anger so he fires. "I'm worse, right? Nothing got better with you. I fucking died on your watch." Jason scoffs.

"I didn't get you killed, fuck you." You scoff.

"That all you got? Did I hurt your little feelings?" A grin pulls at Jason's lips and the voice echoing in the back of his head lets out a loud cry and it cracks the sturdy glass the drug creates. He knows he'll regret this. He doesn't mean it. He swears he doesn't mean it.

"I don't even know you right now and I don't think I want to." You shake your head and even when you know you should hold back, you don't. The words come out in a hasty rage before you can even process them because they'll hurt him. "This why Rose lied to you? Maybe it was to protect herself from you, right? Get close and you lose your shit and hit below the belt."

"Fuck you! Yeah? What about Gar? You say I don't tell you shit, well now you know how he felt. How do you think Molly feels right now?" Jason snaps right back.

"Gar is my friend and he's waiting back at the manor for me." You shrug your shoulders as you look Jason up and down. "Where's Rose?" You quip back. You don't mean it. You don't mean any of it. You don't even know why you're thinking it. It's not true. This was a bad idea. The drug was a bad idea.

He knows. He knows deep down you don't mean it because he doesn't either. He'd never say any of this to you and he doesn't even think any of it. But Crane is in his head and he makes so many good points, and you're making him so fucking mad. And if it weren't for the drug, he knows, he'd be terrified of what's going to happen when Crane finds out you know. What Crane is going to ask him to do. He'd be scared for your life. And your well-being. He loves you but he can't see through the anger and the numbness. He can't see through it. But, there's still that pecking for you right in the back of his head, right in the stitched letters of your name on his heart. Not you.

"Leave or let me do this. Two fucking choices." Jason sucks in a breath before he turns around and heads back towards Hank.

"You're not killing him." You move towards Jason and yank him back by his hood, just enough to stop him.

Jason stumbles back, eyes locked and angered on you. "You gonna stop me?" Jason scowls, holding a scalpel in one hand.

You won't let him kill Hank. The drug says it'll be fun and then Hank will be out of your hair. You won't have to defend Jason against him anymore and he won't be annoying. He'll be dead. That'll be the end of it. Hank won't be a bother to anyone anymore but stopping Jason will piss him off and something about that seems a little bit more fun. But, there is a small pecking at the back of your head. Jason yanking you off of Jerry because you shouldn't have blood on your hands. The memory flashes like a flashbang against everything you should be thinking while high and you swear you won't let him. It's time to repay the favor, high or not.

Jason's formula was always a little off. The drug Jason is taking now is upgraded, it's better because Crane manufactured this with Jason's help getting the supplies. Your version is a little off.

"Only if you make me have to." You shake your head, blocking Hank from Jason.

Jason hesitates. If you were anyone else, you wouldn't have gotten this far into an argument and he's pretty sure you know that. And he also knows that with the drug, even his version of it, you won't back down.

"Hank has always treated me like shit. You don't fucking get it." Jason shakes his head.

"And killing him is gonna make it all better?" You quip back. "Cause that's shit. He's a fucking ass to me, too but I'm not trying to kill him."

"Because you were always a coward." Jason's voice lacks the venom this time as if he knows what he's saying isn't true and it's not right.

"Maybe." You shrug. "But at least I'm not someone killing an innocent person." You scoff. "So, what does that make you?" You ask and even in this state, you just want him to be the Jason before he died. It's all you want.

Jason shakes his head. "I'm not scared anymore." His voice is level this time and honest. The venom has evaporated and even in this state, your heart breaks. How did he fucking get here?

"Is it worth it? Losing your friends? Dick, Bruce, Gar?" You pause for a second. "Me?"

Jason shakes his head and you'll never get it. "You don't get it." He can't let you get in his head and that's what you're doing. Jason shuts his eyes for just a second before he shakes his head, snapping himself out of it. "Now move and go the fuck home."

You nod your head and Jason is the one drawing the line, not you. You have given him every chance and opportunity to give you a reason to side with him and he will not do it. He only gives you reasons to be against him and you hate it, even in this state.

"No." You shake your head and cross your arms. "You're gonna have to fucking fight me, Jay."

Jason moves forward, looking down at you and for a second, you think he'll let it go. But, instead, he shoves you to the side. Not hard, but enough to get you out of the way. Jason swears he's not going to be the one to fight you first. It is his one fucking line he has been able to not cross and he swears he can't do that. Not you.

You fire back, shoving him harder and further away from Hank.

"All you got, babe? Thought I taught you better than that." Jason taunts.

"Yeah, well, I learned from Dick, too and I'm not throwing the first punch." You stand toe-to-toe with Jason. "You'll have to do that, Red Hood."

"Out the fucking way." Jason shoves you again, this time a little harder than before.

"You get the fuck out of the way." You shove him harder, this time Jason falling to the ground.

He looks up at you with so much anger, it nearly breaks you. He's never looked at you like that before. And maybe if he weren't high, he'd find it impressive and endearing. But he is high and he doesn't give a fuck. He swings his leg, tripping you and you fall to the floor.

Jason is back on his feet before you, quickly moving to Hank and trying to get the bomb readjusted. You move closer to him, kicking Jason in the back of the knees and sending him to the floor which gives you enough time to get to your feet.

"Wake the fuck up, Hank!" You shake him quickly, trying to wake him up but Jason trips you again, this time taking one kick to the back of the knee and then the front.

You look at Jason as he's still on the ground. You're not going to get anywhere if all you two do is keep tripping each other. And the drug loves a good fight.

"Okay, fine. Do you really wanna do this? You really wanna fight me?" You question.

"You're the one that wants to fight." Jason huffs.

The part with the drug would love to fight you. He knows he will win but you'll put up a good fight and it'll be fun. But, the better part of him, the part that always wins when it comes to you, wants to kick his heart through his ribs and onto the cement floor. He can't fight you. He can't do it. Not you. Anyone but you.

"You're the one trying to kill someone." You quip.

"You're not gonna fucking stop me."

"I have to fucking try!" Your voice finally cracks as you yell.

"Good luck." Jason barks as he gets to his feet.

You don't really want to fight him either. Like Jason, you have that part of you that still doesn't want to cross that line, no matter what. But, Jason can't come back from killing one of your own. The Titans will never forgive that, regardless of his reason. It doesn't matter if this isn't really him. They won't forgive him because it's Jason. You don't want that for him. If your options are to fight him or let him kill Hank, you really only have one choice.

And the drug is thrilled about it.

You get to your feet, keeping a few feet between you. "If you go down for five seconds, this is it. Got it?" You offer him.

Jason lets out a cackle. "Fuck no."

"You're a better fighter, right? What the fuck are you so scared for?" You say it on purpose, knowing it'll get him to fight.

Jason eyes you for a few seconds, knowing he can't possibly say no now. The drug is winning over the logical side of him and he has to agree. But, he also knows he'll still pull his punches. Maybe you can go a few rounds and you'll get tired. Jason remembers how it feels when his version of the drug wears off and how long it usually lasts. He's not sure when you took it but he's hoping maybe a few rounds and it'll wear off a little, make you too tired to continue then neither of you have to fight your hardest. He doesn't want to and he's betting you don't either.

"Fine. Five seconds. You, too. You go down and I can finish what I started without you getting in the fucking way." Jason nods his head. "No weapons and no acid."

"Deal." You nod your head as you lift up your hoodie and unbuckle the belt with all of your knives, dropping it on the floor.

Jason pulls both guns from his holsters, walking over and putting them on a table. Then he starts pulling his own knives out of his pockets and boots, resting them with the guns before he walks back over. Jason stands three feet in front of you who's eyes haven't left him.

"Two outta three?" Jason questions and all he can hear is his heart in his ears.

"Fine." You agree, sucking in a breath. "You and me."

Jason's jaw locks. "You and me."

You and Jason stand a few feet away from each other. The two of you take a few seconds, almost contemplating if this is a good idea. This was a line Jason swore, no matter what, he'd never cross. It's you. He doesn't want to fight you but he has to do this. He doesn't have a choice. That's the thing about the anti-fear drug. He's easy to manipulate when it comes to Crane and he doesn't feel anything. Not just fear. So, he takes the first step forward and goes to trip you again but you dodge him, taking the first official swing to his face.

The two of you fight a little harder against each other than you normally do. You know you'll lose. You always did. It doesn't matter. He's better, he's faster. And the clairvoyance has a loophole. Apparently, a lot of it is rooted in fear factor, adrenaline and the anti-fear drug diminishes that. Fighting Jason without the clairvoyance is more difficult. You can't tell where the next hit is coming from and you have to be completely on defence. Maybe you should have trained a little more with Dick after all. But, you try and strike as hard and as fast as you can. You put up a good fight.

Jason is pulling his punches. You aren't in the suit. You have nothing to protect you and even though he should care more, he is not careless. He doesn't want to hurt you so he pulls his punches, despite knowing you'll never forgive him for it. And the more he pulls his punches, the better chance you stand on tiring yourself out by the time the drug starts to wear off. Jason is just buying time so he can finish Hank because he needs to. It's part of the plan. Crane said it has to happen and he has to listen. So, he keeps fighting until you go down twice, coughing and gasping.

Jason counts but it's slower than usual as you try to use your remaining energy against him to no avail. The drug might tell him this is fun and thrilling, it'll be worth it in the end. But, the real Jason hates every single second of this. It never should have been like this and if he weren't high, he would have walked away. If you weren't high, you probably would have, too. But, now you're both here bloody and bruised fighting over fucking Hank Hall.

"Five." Jason heaves from above you. His jaw is squared and he hates himself for it. "We had a deal." Jason takes in a full breath, watching your expression soften and fall, your pupils returning to normal.

You look up at him, blood pooling in your mouth and leaking from a gash on your head. Jason has blood splitting his lip and drips dropping from his nose. But, he's foggy and distant. You tried. You tried your absolute hardest and your eyes are heavy while your limps feel like the blood has been replaced with cement.

You sit up, your head spinning slightly but not the way it usually does with a concussion, this is different. You rest your hands on the floor, scooting back until your back hits the wall and you lean your head back, closing your eyes.

You're so tired. You're exhausted and all you want to do is sleep. But, the fear starts to creep back into your system. The numbness you felt is being washed away like a sandcastle on a beach while the tide comes in. And everything starts to hurt.

Everything you just said to Jason, everything he said it you. It all hurts and then fear comes in and now you're terrified you messed everything up. What happens if Crane finds out you know? Is Crane going to think Jason did it? Is he going to find a replacement? What if he wants you dead and asks Jason to do it? Where does that leave him? 

Jason glances over to you as he gets the bomb readjusted. The gash doesn't seem deep, there isn't too much blood and the blood from your mouth is from a small cut on your lip. It's nothing worse than what either of you got from sparring with each other and Gar and Rachel. But, Jason watches you for a few more seconds, just being sure. 

"You okay?" Jason finds it himself to ask as he places the bomb in position.

"Tired." Your voice cracks and you think about what the Titans are going to say when Hank dies.

This is your fault. You weren't fast enough and you weren't good enough. Hank is going to die because Jason was manipulated and used and put a bomb in his chest. And you were too weak to stop him. Even while high, you still pulled your punches because it's him. They're never going to forgive either of you.

"It's wearing off, isn't it?" Jason asks, his voice stern as he places the bomb in Hank's chest, following the blueprints.

"Yeah..." Your voice is so small, making Jason look back over at you. He's definitely burning that lab down.

You wonder if this is normal. If it is, how did you miss it? You wonder how much Jason actually used it for you to have not noticed. Maybe he only used it a few times and only when he was out. The drug definitely didn't last very long. You just wish you would have noticed something was wrong.

"You'll feel better in a bit." Jason states as he closes the skin around the bomb. 

You fall silent, keeping your eyes closed. This can't be what a normal comedown feels like. You're somehow both so exhausted you could sleep for a week and you're terrified. Every piece of fear you had before is amplified and you're stuck between wanting to sleep and wanting to run away from everything. If you thought you could get up, you'd run out of Gotham and away from this mess. But, your head is spinning and your arms and legs hurt while your chest feels like it's going to collapse on itself.

Jason calls your name, glancing over to you again.

He knows what happens with his version. There's a comedown and it's rough. Every fear and mistake and regret floods back in a tidal wave, taking over all of the relief the drug provided all while making it impossible to stay awake. It doesn't last long, twenty minutes but Jason swears it's always long enough to keep him going back to the drug to not feel that way again. The new version has a similar effect but instead of a crash, it's slower like a stranger in the night following him and waiting for the perfect moment. With every step, he grows more uneasy and home seems further away. But, you didn't take the new version, so he keeps glancing at you just to make sure you're okay.

Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.

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[aggregaticn]

THE MUN.

✦┊ for starters, thank you kindly for stopping by! you may know me in the past as mishka, or cryptid, but lately i go by grass. i am 32 years old and typically refer to myself as he/they pronouns. ✧┊ i have been roleplaying off and on for well over 14 years. i give up trying to keep track of how long with each year that passes. i also do a lot of world building and drawing as well and both will most certainly play a big part on my blogs. ✧┊ i am an extremely slow roleplayer. it has taken me over a month to reply to some threads/asks. it has nothing to do with anyone. it’s just how i write. i am sorry if this is annoying to people, but roleplaying is my HOBBY. i let my muse/s take the reins more often than not and if they are not feeling it then i’m not going to force them, nor will i force myself. ✦┊ if it’s been over a week since i replied to something and you want to know if i saw it and/or curious if i am still interested in doing anything with it, then by all means ask!! i lose track of things, lose it in my notifications, don’t see it at all, or i forget to draft it. ✧┊ i have decided to become more of a minimalist roleplayer. i will probably not use icons anymore and will hardly format my posts. the most that will happen is small font and an on-post tag to my partner. that’s really it. ✦┊ i read everyone’s rules when i decide to follow them. that doesn’t mean i will remember every detail because let’s face it, there are many people that come and go with many different rules and sometimes shit gets mixed up. it happens! if i accidentally break a rule, or cross a line do let me know! i’ll do my best not to do it again. i’m also not big on passwords, so if i follow and don’t like. send in your password, then please don’t take it the wrong way! i’m just nervous and makes me feel weird? idk lmfao

INTERACTING // CONTENT.

✧┊ this is a multi-ship/multi-fandom/multi-verse roleplay blog for various fandoms && muses. this is my only blog now because i’m tired™ of dealing with multiple blogs, so now all of my trash is in one place :D ✦┊ i am very much an adult™ that enjoys writing a lot of adult themes. there are also many fandoms present with said adult themes. there will no doubt be triggers here. whenever they do, {{whether it be dubcon/noncon, bestiality, gore, torture, etc}} they will be tagged with the following; ‘tw: (name of content)’ you are more than welcome to pop into my ims/asks and let me know if you need something tagged that already isn’t tagged! ✧┊ majority of the headcanons and writing found on this blog belongs to me. i have spent many years developng these characters by myself and with various partners along the way. while i don’t mind you using some things, i would kindly ask that you do not steal, nor take credit for these things. this extends to any graphics/edits/art i end up making at any given time unless you have explicit permission from myself to use them. ✧┊ while i may be mutuals only, that’s kind of a lose term with me. i don’t mind writing with you if we have not followed eachother! this also applies to interacting ooc with one another. just do it!! ✦┊ i may prefer writing multi-para threads, but i am totally fine with writing smaller things! this goes for sentences, single para, and everything in between. third person is where it’s at, though i do not mind what style you write in. i’m also totally open to art based roleplays! all ya gotta do is ask. ✧┊ i will do aus, though some crossovers might be turned down if i am a.) not to confident in my abilities to work with that crossover, or b.) not part or do not know enough of a certain fandom. that goes for any muses you’d like to request of me. i’m comfy enough to try writing a muse that isn’t present on my blog/s. ✦┊ i would prefer to keep ims strictly for ooc and plotting purposes, but if you’d like to rp somewhere else then i am open to writing on discord! all ya gotta do is ask and we can work something out. i’m also completely ok with any sort of asks! like even if you just wanna chat with me ooc and shit then please come talk with me! i am always down for some chill time to get to know my rp partners any time!

last, but not least do have fun!! this is a roleplay/ask blog. it’s meant to be a fun experience. it is a hobby and i am going to treat it as such.

[psychotic4ghost]

Blood Under The Bridge A story by Psychotic4Ghost

Chapter 1 - Decode The Ghost

TW: Strong Language ♡ Light mentions of alcohol ♡ ♡ Masterlist | chapter 2 ♡ WC: 1.5k ♡ A/N: This has been in the works for awhile now and I'm really proud of how it's turned out so far. My best friend is helping me edit this story and I couldn't be more grateful to her. Sorry for making y'all wait, but without further ado, here's chapter one c:

╰┈➤

Gentle snowfall covered the streets below Mykie Jamison’s apartment balcony. The aroma of the freshly brewed coffee filled her nostrils as she watched the hustle of the night life, cyclists dodged inattentive walkers as they strolled the streets, paying more focus to their phones than their surroundings. Phones; small little devices that the world put all their information into. Credit card details, social security number, loved ones names, the first street they lived on, and more, all at their fingertips. All at her fingertips. Behind her, through the open door of her loft, sat her laptop on her couch, just waiting for her to work her magic. 

Her current hit was a small business, one that had been basically robbing people of their money. Overcharging for a product that was barely worth the price. Mykie’s goal was to rewire the money so she could return it to its rightful owners, but not before taking her cut. She pushed off the railing where she stood, turning on her heels; her chestnut hair flowing in the cool breeze behind her as it settled at the mid of her back. 

Her apartment was decent. The walls were intact and the hot water worked. It was more than she could ask for, especially at the price point. She curled back into her spot on the couch, leaving the breeze a way to sneak past her cracked balcony door. The blinding white lights of her laptop illuminated her pale skin while her jade gaze lasered in on her task. Her ruby red nails tapped away at the keyboard until she heard that sweet, sweet sound of her banking app’s notification. Success. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Another promotion?” one of Mykie’s friends, Joey, asked as they sat at a small high top table in a local bar.

“Yup, I’m on a roll.” Mykie raised her glass to her lightly painted, rosy lips. She had another successful night and had a little extra spending money on hand so she offered to take her friends out for drinks. 

“I dunno how you do it, mate. Three promotions in just two months. But I won’t say no to free drinks.” The blonde known as Mary, raised their glass in a cheer. 

“So, where do ya work again Rose?” Joey asked.  Rose, an alias. The same one written on her bank forms, and any other legal form for that matter. 

“Just some dumb firm. Nothing crazy, desk work.” Mykie made a shooing motion with her hand with a British accent heavy on her lips. While it was convincing, it was far from the truth. 'Rose' might've been born and raised in London for all these people knew but, Mykie was a purebred Scot.

A few weeks rolled by as Mykie droned on with her life; reading new books, trying new foods and upgrading her tech when she could. On one snowy night, she happened to be scrolling through some random Facebook posts about long lost people from her past when a picture of her father resurfaced. She scrunched her nose at the sight of him. He was donned up in his military garb. Typical brown camo with patches littering his chest and shoulders. A British flag next to a Scottish one, SAS, and one that caught her eye, 141. 

Mykie examined the post more. It was private, meaning that she shouldn’t be able to see this photo. She had never viewed it before in her childhood home so, why is it showing up on the internet of all places? "In Loving Memory" was written at the top of the post. 

She hated the fact that he was even given a memorial post after what he did. She tossed the thought to the side and decided to dig more on the 141 badge. After endless hours of scrolling and research, she couldn’t find anything on what the 141 could mean. Maybe it was a squad number? Her father was a captain at some point, just before he was discharged. 

“I shouldn’t…” Mykie muttered to herself. She tapped her chin in contemplation, what she was thinking of doing was beyond illegal. The FBI could end up on her tail if she wasn’t careful. With a heavy sigh, the woman knew she couldn't resist the risk. So, she popped open a bottle of bourbon, cracked her knuckles, and jumped down the 141 rabbit hole.

Bingo.

“Task Force 141…He was a part of a task force?” she asked the empty air around her. More files popped up as she continued to weed through all the information. “Captain Rodney Jamison. Discharged for violent acts in 2009… John Price, promoted to Captain of the 141 in 2011.” Mykie’s eyes scanned the pages about John Price, taking in as much as she could about him. He had a goofy smile and a fisherman hat in one of his photos, the others remained more professional. 

“Soap? Who the fuck calls themselves ‘Soap’?” Mykie exclaimed out loud. “John “Soap” MacTavish. That’s a Scottish name if I ever did hear one.” 

Another name crossed her screen, “Kyle “Gaz” Garrison. Pretty standard I guess.”

Mykie continued to read each person's file until she got to a particularly interesting one. 

Ghost.

All it said was Ghost. No name, no picture, and barely any information. This bugged Mykie. No, it really bugged her. Not having the information after all the time she spent working on this felt like a defeat and despite all she had found, it felt fleeting. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Nights had passed as Mykie slaved away at her computer. She was determined to find out more about this Ghost individual. Even just a name would ease her tensions. But ultimately, the name was nowhere to be found. It was like whoever this person was, never actually existed and was planted here just to mess with Mykie. 

Frustrated, she slammed her laptop shut and threw it onto the couch next to her. She ran her hands through her hair.

 “A run. I need a fucking run.” Mykie pushed herself from her couch and gathered gear for her night excursion. She lived in a small neighborhood in London. It had nice paths for morning jogs and parks for relaxing. Small shops and cafes lined the streets near her apartment with heavy foot traffic of the morning goers hurrying to their jobs. 

Mykie had a route, one she walked when she was too in her head about something. She had taken the path many times before but something felt different this time. Someone felt different this time. There were some people that Mykie would see every time she did this run; older people sitting on the benches by the ponds, the same kids who would play on the playset each morning before school but it was her, the blonde. Every time Mykie would pass a certain part, she’d see her, the same lady with blonde hair pulled back into a bun and a deep blue trench coat. 

Mykie cut her run short, she was too spooked to continue. She doubled back down a path that led to her complex. Quickly, without stopping to breathe, she made it to her front door. 

“Okay, that’s it, I’ve lost my fucking mind.” Mykie ran both her hands through her sweat drenched hair. Her lungs felt thick as she pushed the icy air from them. 

The shower head spilled hot water over Mykie’s shoulders as she replayed her morning over and over in her mind. Was she being followed? She couldn’t have been, she knew everyone in the town and she covered her tracks well enough. The hacker did her best to force the thoughts into the back of her mind as she made breakfast. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Another week passed by Mykie. She was starting to feel uneasy every time she left her apartment because she saw the same woman out of the corner of her eye everywhere she went. In the supermarket, the café, bars, bus stops, and even the library. Everywhere Mykie went, she saw the same lady but always in her peripherals. She started locking herself in her apartment and succumbed to only delivery for her food. But, money was running low and Mykie hadn’t hit another business in awhile. Her mind wasn’t in a working condition for her to do the things she needed to do. 

A quick knock broke Mykie from her thoughts. It was her front door, someone was knocking. She didn’t order any take out or deliveries, so there was no reason for someone to be knocking on her door. Panic flooded her mind as she pulled herself from her bedroom floor where she was sat. 

Her hand wrapped around the cold doorknob in what felt like slow motion. Another quick knock hit the door, startling Mykie as she gripped the handle tighter before twisting it to the left. With a quick tug of the handle it opened only for the same blonde hair and blue trench coat to  be staring back at Mykie however this time, piercing blue eyes stared back. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[patheticlittlemen]

ALL ABOUT ME

[Kurt Kunkle x female reader]

Chapter 2- Are You Bored Yet?

Words: 2111

Warnings: Little bit NSFW, non-graphic sex scene

A/N: There’s some messaging included so here’s a guide for future reference (your username is doodlesgalore)

(username): Youtube

(username)> instagram

(Name): text

Rick is still sleeping peacefully by the time you wake. You get up and decide to make breakfast, quietly walking into the kitchen. You put in your headphones and start pulling out ingredients to make omelets. Normally you would play a podcast, but you’re caught up on all your favorites. Scrolling through youtube, you see a notification.

KurtsWorld- Trying boba for the first time!

You’re absolutely intrigued. Clicking on the video, you see that it was posted just an hour ago and there were 2 views. After the ads play, you set your phone up and start preparing ingredients.

The video starts with Kurt walking down the street. It’s a bit windy so you have a hard time hearing what he’s saying but luckily he goes into a building and you can hear him.

“So today I’m at the new boba shop that just opened up in Azusa! Join me while I try it for the first time!”

You can’t help but smile. He doesn’t have great camera presence but he sure is excited. You go to the fridge and hear a lot of rustling from the video. After grabbing what you need, you go back to the video and replay what you missed. You hear him repeat the end of the sentence and he puts the camera in his pocket. The video continues like that for about 15 seconds and finally jumps to the next clip.

You’re holding back laughter at this point. Does he have an editor? Does he even know how to edit? The video continues with him zooming in on the menu, then cuts to a shot of him ordering that is angled below his chin. After the cashier takes his order, he looks down at the camera and gives an excited smile.

Oh my god, this is your new favorite person ever. Something about his awkwardness is so endearing. You’re starting to tear up from holding back laughter when Rick leaves the bedroom.

“Hey babe,” he calls from the hallway.

“Hey, honey. I’m making food for us,” you say, turning your phone off and pouring the eggs onto the pan. Rick walks up behind you and plants a kiss on your neck, humming when he sees what you’re making.

“You make the best omelets,” he says, kissing your head as he heads to the bathroom to take a shower.

You finish making the omelets, putting them on plates and bringing them to the table. You sit down to eat and call Rick to the table. For some reason you can’t get Kurt out of your mind. He was just so… silly. In a really cute way.

Rick sits down and starts devouring his food. The way he eats really grosses you out but you just try to ignore it. You take bites of your food, praising yourself for making it so well. By the time you’re halfway done with yours, Rick already washed his plate off and put it in the dishwasher.

“Hey babe,” you say. “Do you know the guy who used to babysit Bobby? Kurt?”

“Ah yeah, Kurt Kunkle,” he scoffs at the name. “Bobby says he’s a fucking weirdo.”

You’re a bit taken aback by the comment.

“Well, I just wanted to say he has a youtube channel. I think it’s really funny.” Rick laughs at that.

“Oh, I’ve seen it. The dude is such a fucking loser, he’s seriously trying so hard to go ‘viral’.” Rick says, using air quotes around the last word.

“I mean he’s just doing something he enjoys. Who cares if he’s good at it?” You try to defend Kurt despite knowing arguing would go nowhere with Rick. He rolls his eyes and walks back to his bedroom. You feel a bit hurt, even though you know it doesn’t have to do with you. You finish the omelet and start the dishwasher, walking to the bedroom.

Rick is on his phone, laughing at whatever is on the screen. He looks up to see you and sets it down.

“Bobby’s coming over. We’re probably gonna be playing video games, so if it’s too loud you can just head out.”

The last sentence really frustrated you. While you did often get overwhelmed with the noise and just left, he made it sound like he was giving you permission to leave. You were too tired to say anything and just started getting ready for the day, already expecting to leave. Rick’s eyes were glued onto you as you took your shirt off, watching you find a bra to put on.

“God you’re so hot,” he says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Normally you love when he does that, but it just feels wrong this time. He starts kissing down your neck and you try to push him away.

“Isn’t Bobby coming over?” you insist.

“It won’t be for a little while, it’s fine,” he says, pulling your hair to the side so he can kiss further down your shoulder. It was really easy to turn you on, which Rick knew and loved. The strange feeling was really nagging at you but you know the horniness won’t go away quickly unless dealt with.

Before you could even respond, Rick gently bit down on your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. He laughed against your neck and turned you around, kissing you deeply. You had started to dissociate every time you had sex with Rick a while ago and never cared to change that. The whole process was so repetitive, you knew exactly what to do and say to make Rick happy and could do it on autopilot.

The whole time you’re going through the familiar motions, Kurt is on your mind. Not in a sexual way, just that you are enamored by him. The only time you’re pulled from your thoughts is when you cum. It never really feels that good but you know how uncomfortable it gets being aroused all day. Luckily Rick finishes not long after and you give him a quick kiss as you go to the bathroom.

The indifference to sex always brings the question of your relationship with Rick to your mind. You know why you don’t leave but it hurts to think about. You met Rick after you moved to Azusa to be closer to family and didn’t know a lot of people. Not many people showed interest in you before so Rick quickly had you wrapped around his finger. Rick isn’t a bad person. You’re just bored of being with him. The only ray of hope recently had been the party where you met Kurt.

Heading back to the bedroom, you see Rick making the bed. You smile at him and kiss his cheek as you head to get dressed. For a moment, the thought of leaving him runs through your mind but you brush it off as you put clothes on and head to the living room, where you hear a knock on the door.

Opening the door, you’re greeted by Bobby. You smile at him politely as he gives a nod of greeting. You step to the side and he makes his way to the bedroom as you shut the door. Already, there is a lot of noise coming from the bedroom. You want to stick it out and stay as long as it is tolerable so you put in your headphones and continue Kurt’s video.

It continues where you left off, with Kurt ordering at the boba shop. There are a few clips of him getting his order and finding a seat outside, where luckily the wind has calmed down. He sets the camera down to face him and it falls a couple of times in the process, once again adding to the thought that he doesn’t know how to edit.

“Alright, I’m not quite sure how this works…” He says, looking at the straw and then the top of the cup. He looks back and forth at them with a confused look on his face.

“Sorry guys, I’ve never done this before. Let me…” His voice trails off as he taps the lid of the boba with the sharp end of the straw. He does it a couple more times, flinching every time it connects. Finally, he manages to puncture the lid and looks so proud of himself. You cheer internally as he brings the straw to his mouth and immediately chokes on a tapioca pearl. You can’t hold it back after that and laugh as he coughs and tries to process what just happened. At the same time, you see Bobby walk out of the bedroom. He scoffs as he passes by.

“Is that Kurt?” He says condescendingly as you pause the video.

“Oh, yeah. I met him at your party last night.”

“He’s fucking crazy. Seems to think we’re best friends just because he babysat me when I was a fucking kid. Swear to god he’s gonna kill someone someday.” Bobby says, genuinely sounding upset.

“Oh.” You say, not knowing how to even respond. “Uh, good to know I guess.”

“Hey, I’m taking the last two Sprites,” Bobby calls from the kitchen.

“That’s fine, I need to go shopping anyway.”

“Sweet,” Bobby says, heading back to the bedroom. You watch him walk away and hit play on the video. Despite everything Rick and Bobby said, you’re still fascinated by Kurt.

After he coughs a bit, Kurt manages to catch his breath and looks at the camera.

“So first impression is to, uh, not…suck that hard.” His eyes flicker to the camera as if he realizes that phrase sounds weird but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He takes another drink and manages to get a good sip without choking. He chews on the boba thoughtfully and raises his eyebrows in approval. He hums before he swallows and speaks again.

“That’s really good. So yeah guys, if you want a good drink, come down to Boba Beast in Azusa.” He gives the camera a thumbs-up and smiles, slightly cocking his head to the side. The video cuts to one more clip of Kurt walking up to a traffic pole, placing on it a yellow sticker of a very crudely drawn planet with a face and “Kurt’s World” written above.

You immediately go to like the video. You decide to leave a comment, trying to think of something to say.

doodlesgalore: Great review, laughed so hard when you choked. I’ll def be going there soon

The frustrated yelling of Rick and Bobby makes you jump. You try to ignore it and decide to check Instagram. You scroll through posts of people you haven’t seen since high school, feeling more pathetic after each happy photo shown on your feed. A notification pops up on your phone from youtube saying that Kurt responded to your comment. You go to click on it but stop after getting an idea. You tap on the search bar on Instagram, looking up “KurtsWorld96”. Your phone takes a minute to load but an account pops up with the same name and the yellow planet as the profile picture. You excitedly click on the account and hit follow.

Scrolling through the feed, you see reposts of clips from his videos and some outdated memes. After clicking on only a few posts, you get a notification that Kurt followed you back. Your heart rate picks up as you decide to message him.

doodlesgalore> Hey Kurt, it’s Y/N from the party last night

doodlesgalore> I saw the video you posted today :)

You swipe out of Instagram and look at the response Kurt gave on youtube.

KurtsWorld96: Awesome! I love giving fans recommendations 😊

You smile at the emoji and see that Kurt responded to your message. Does he have nothing better to do right now? You brush it off as him being dedicated to his online presence and click on his DM.

kurtsworld96> Hey Y/N! Did you like the video??

doodlesgalore> I loved it !! I was the one who left a comment btw

kurtsworld96> Thank you for your support 😌

You close the app and turn off your phone for a second, painfully aware of the increasing noise coming from the bedroom. You roll your eyes while grabbing your shoes and a tote bag, deciding to go to the boba place Kurt mentioned.

Hesitantly walking towards the bedroom, you poke your head in to say goodbye to Rick. He and Bobby are engrossed in their game, yelling at each other and the screen. You assume Rick won’t hear or acknowledge your departure so you just leave without saying anything as the strange feeling from before gnaws at your insides.

[pilothusband]

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie​ for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even. 

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.” 

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin. 

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree. 

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths. 

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment. 

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?” 

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.” 

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms. 

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair,  but your arms aren’t long enough to reach. 

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

 He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

 “Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

 He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing. 

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

 Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

 He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

 “Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

 You moan and break the kiss.

 “Want to take this to my room?”

 He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

 You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

 You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

 “I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

 “Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

 You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

 “So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

 It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

 Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

 “So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

 You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

 “We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern. 

 “No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

 You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

 Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace. 

 All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

 His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

 “Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

 You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly. 

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

 The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes. 

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

[shotorozu]

‘photoshopping my boyfriend’

(tiktok prank)

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku (bnha)

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not specific

headcanon type : crack, fluff (x reader)

note(s) : inspired by this tiktok— it was too funny to skip this chance of making this post 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

you wanted to do this prank, because you wanted to see if he’d notice even the most subtle of changes to his face

again, it’s a pretty harmless prank— plus, you wouldn’t actually post the edited picture online anyway 💀

it’d be funny to see it

so, you slightly alter the selfie of you and katsuki, by enlarging his forehead ever so slightly— and you’d only alter it more from that moment onwards

[you’ve sent an attachment]

Y/N : “kats, i found this picture in my camera roll, should i post it? you look so good ! (๑>◡<๑)”

and katsuki being well,, himself— responds rather quickly to your message even though he kinda wanted to leave you on read

kats ♡ : “ain’t that your fucking wallpaper 🤨”

Y/N : “nah this is a different one, should i post?”

he leaves you on read for a bit, and it seems to be that he was typing for quite some time

kats ♡ : “abso-fucking-lutely not. i don’t remember looking like that.”

Y/N : “but you look fine! want me to change it a bit?”

kats ♡ : “do whatever 🙄”

and because you’re an absolute menace to your boyfriend, you make his forehead bigger— not to the point that he’d notice though

[you’ve sent an attachment]

Y/N : “how’s that now?”

and then you were left on read 😔 because katsuki was currently on his way to your room and he’s not pleased

“DID YOU PHOTOSHOP MY FOREHEAD?” he slams your door open, and you swore you could’ve heard it crack just a bit

“no??”

“stop fucking lying- i have that exact photo in my gallery, and it looks NOTHING like that atrocious thing”

you burst out laughing at his reaction, and he’s just standing next to your bed like 🧍‍♂️

“i will never take another picture with you again if you—”

“as if i was actually going to post that picture” he wasn’t serious when he said he won’t be taking pictures with you

but at least he’ll sleep well knowing that you won’t post such.. horrendous picture of his massive forehead on the internet for the world to see

but you posted the tiktok anyway and it blew up to katsuki’s distaste

todoroki shouto

okay okay, so you think that this would be absolutely hilarious— but you just wanted to see if he’d notice if you photoshopped him

but a part of you thinks he wouldn’t, or if he’d just pretend that he didn’t notice— regardless, it would still be funny

so, you select a random selfie of you and shouto (one that you both looked good in) and you ever so slightly edit his forehead

you kind of wanted to edit his scar but for many different reasons, you decided not to

[you’ve sent an attachment]

Y/N 🤍 : “shou 🤩‼️‼️ look at what i found, should i repost this as a throwback? you look so good it’s not even funny”

he replies rather quick, i mean he always does— but he replies after 30 seconds

shou, the lover boy 🤍 : “you mean we. we look good.”

Y/N 🤍 : “oh, we look good 🤠 so?? what do you think? repost or nah?”

shou, the lover boy 🤍 : “sure thing.”

shou, the lover boy 🤍 : “hm, something looks different. i just don’t know what it is. could you add a small filter to it?”

and you think, ‘oh! so he does notice’ which is quite interesting

Y/N 🤍 : “sure ^^”

you edit his forehead even more, the original picture looking a lot more different compared to the edited one but for some reason, it didn’t look unnatural

[you’ve sent an attachment]

Y/N 🤍 : “so, i added a small filter onto it, does that look better?”

he’s seen typing for a bit

shou, the lover boy 🤍 : “hm, no filter it is. i think the unfiltered one is better.”

[you’ve sent an attachment]

Y/N 🤍 : “i removed the filter, does that look better?”

but then you edited his forehead even more 😭 please this was killing you, you were wondering if you didn’t edit the picture enough— you’re just glad you aren’t in the same room as him

shou, the lover boy 🤍 : “perfect. see you tomorrow <3”

you posted the tiktok’s results, and it blows up in less than a day— gaining a lot of views because

a. it’s shouto— a common guest on your tiktoks, b. his ‘obliviousness’ c. because of the way you edited his forehead, and how it just got bigger and bigger 💀

the comments were really funny, and nice to look at “PLEASE IS HE THAT OBLIVIOUS??” “bruhh he definitely knew something 💀” “there’s no way he wasn’t playing along”

turns out, shouto knew you were photoshopping his forehead for shits and giggles— it’s because he has that exact selfie as his wallpaper

he’ll get you back ;)

midoriya izuku

your boyfriend is insanely observant, so!! you wanted to test if he’d notice even the slightest of changes to a picture

and plus, you think it would be funny to witness

you select one of the better pictures of you and izuku— but most especially, a picture where izuku looked phenomenal

compared to the other two, you edited his freckles— you’re basically going to gradually add more freckles to him

[you’ve sent an attachment]

Y/N 🍀 : “hey zuku! look at what i found deep in my gallery. should i repost this as a throwback? i wanna know your thoughts <3”

your notification makes his heart race faster, so he’s quick to reply

except,, it took a bit longer for him to hit send

zuku (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : “you look so good <3 but hm.. something looks different ^^; i just can’t put my finger on it..”

Y/N 🍀 : “oh— perhaps it’s the lighting?”

zuku (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : “maybe it is! could you maybe put a filter on it? i mean,, if you think there should be one! not that the picture needs one ;;”

cute.

you add more freckles to the picture, and added a slight filter to make it less suspicious, and you hit send

[you’ve sent an attachment]

Y/N 🍀 : “there! i only added a slight filter to it, is this okay?”

zuku (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : “oh no, i look like a kardashian now ^^;; definitely not myself.”

zuku (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : “i’m not sure what’s different! i mean.. the picture couldn’t have been taken that long ago for me not to remember what i even looked like— omg, what if i did forget 😦”

he sounded so concerned about the slight changes— which is to be expected of him

he was actually freaking out through the screen 💀

so then, you decided to add even more freckles to his cheeks

Y/N 🍀 : “ok ok sooo— i removed the filter, does this look better? lmk <3”

it takes a moment for him to finally respond, and he’s seen going on and off with typing— since the typing bubble kept disappearing and reappearing.

zuku (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : “Y/N..”

zuku (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : “is it just me or”

zuku (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : “do i have more freckles in this picture 😦”

you flop onto the ground in hysterics, laughing at his message and you’re hoping that he wouldn’t hear you laugh this hard

after a few hours, you post the tiktok— and it blows up, gathering a good amount of likes and views

the comments consisted of “the fact that he was he thinking so hard about the picture 💀” “LMAOO WHY CAN I IMAGINE HIS REACTION WHEN HE REALIZED” “nooo the way the typing bubble kept disappearing and reappearing 😭”

your boyfriend sends you a text after the tiktok blows up— basically, he saw the video (somehow 💀)

zuku (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : “i’m glad i wasn’t imagining things ^^;; turns out you were just editing more freckles onto the picture 😃 it looked so real!! oh, and i’m coming over to your place, see you!! <3”

basically— having an observant boyfriend like izuku is fun

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[chenyann]

A bat like roommate!!

Lilia vanrouge

Have you heard the rumor of the bat like roommate?It was said that y/n had lost their old roommate and is looking for another,After posting online that you were looking for a roommate a boy answered your ad,a strange boy moves in y/ns life turns upside-down!Now let's take a peek of what it's like living with a strange boy named Lilia vanrouge!

cw: gn!reader, crack & fluff, sfw, unfinished and lousy editing. F/n= friends name Stay tuned for the next rumor...

A new message

As you were typing away on your laptop your phone let out a loud ding.

1 new message from f/n

"Heyyyyy y/n I just had a great idea!!"

You groaned as you looked at that message, thinking about what your friend had to say.

[What is it???]

You sat your phone down waiting for a reply,typing away at a post you made on magicam.

Your phone made that annoying ding sound again;god you really need to change that notification sound.

1 new message from f/n

"So you know how you've been looking for a roommate, I think you should make an ad!"

You sighed,sincerely F/n could be really dumb at times making an ad means making alot of strangers have a chance to know your address and possibly stalk or kill you,but you digress.Was it really such a bad idea; I mean nobody is gonna drop from the sky to be my roommate….you pondered what you should do and after taking a sip from your water you came into terms.

You're gonna put up an ad.

You texted your friend as she gave you support and you put up the ad.

Hello,I am looking for a roommate,I  live in a apartment by NRC there is a spare bedroom with a connected 

Bathroom 1090 sq.Ft we have walk-in closets,a small private balcony,dishwasher and internet there is a gym and pool on the apartment complex (which is animal friendly)

Water, internet,electricity and the bill will be split by us, if you want a roommate and like these terms please dm me!

You cringed at your own post and hoped nobody would see it,you let it go as you went out to your friend's house to go give her a whole essay on how her idea was corny.

After being gone for what seemed like hours actually it was just for 40 minutes you had notification in your inbox from 'Muscle red' that's a stupid name you thought as you read his dm.

'Hello, my name is Lilia and I read your ad about a roommate,benefits of living with you seem very decent,I would like to know more about the apartment.'

After talking to him you decided to let him move in.He can't be that bad, what's the worst that can happen!

Another flower

Woken by a knock at the door you grumble to yourself as you walked to the sound opening it to see what looked like an emo 8 year old, oh wait that's Lilia.You snapped back to reality when you heard a snicker from the door,"well look who is prepared, are you really gonna help get my stuff In your pajamas?" 

Yep he is gonna be a problem, from that very moment you knew he was gonna be a weed in your little ecosystem you have in your head.Lilia had this vibe about him,A vibe of a old man hiding in a grunge aesthetic.He made no time to poke and prodder at you,making snide comments to you every-so-often.Every Time you shut his Q&A session down it made him even more determined to 'bother you'.

Lilia didn't make no plans to stop pestering you, infact he has been asking you dozens of questions every ten minutes."so why did you want a roommate?" He had a cheeky grin, a cheeky grin you wanted to wipe off his face.

You remind yourself that its temporary, that his existence in your life will end sooner of later so you should stop the weed before its spreads.That is if you want to keep that ecosystem you have, to keep your garden of life safe from weeds.You spent years making that ecosystem, making the gardens and the animals;Years of your life spent on it, you won't let a random boy ruin those years of work.

"I needed help paying bills" you said honestly

And that is when it stops🧍‍♀️

Also a rant below on why it's unfinished

I started that post on August 27....And announced it on the 27.....I-i now I know I promised it but um ima just give yall what I have because I know dam well I'm not about to finish this shit💀 and I'm sorry but I just...I haven't felt like making a fic since my last one😭 if I do finish it, then okay yall can have it.But I'm acting like I don't have 4 other fics that I didn't start on soooo Yeah I honestly would maybe go back to this if it was just headcanons but I likely wont💀 I also have 6 drafts 1 of them are a fic I-i don't know anymore,IM TRYING TO GET THEM OUT BUT ITS SO HARD

[cyle]

Hey I have a couple questions and concerns about the new no reblogs feature, the wip askbox is closed so I hope it’s ok I’m messaging you. Can you turn reblogs on and off at any time after publishing a post? If so what happens to the versions of the post that have been reblogged by other people while it was on, can anyone reblog those at any time or only while it’s allowed by the op? This is a good feature to prevent harassment but I also worry it’s not very healthy for the culture of the site. A quintessential part of tumblr is an innocuous post that “goes viral”, often through funny additions in the reblogs. The OPs sometimes complain about it (notifications become unusable, they get too many followers, etc) now can they turn reblogs off and just take everyone’s fun away? But then people could also just screenshot a post and then we would have “can you make that ask reblogable please” 2.0. Another consequence that is worrisome is the development of echo chambers, with fewer opportunities for good faith, productive discussions. Overall it feels weird to me to be limiting interaction on a social media platform that, especially having no algorithms, is so vitally dependent on it.

these are all great questions and valid concerns. my opinions here are my own, i'm not speaking for Tumblr officially.

first, i believe the way it's supposed to function is that reblog controls are tied to the root/original post, so if the OP decides to slam down "no reblogs" when editing their post, then that effectively cuts off the whole possible future reblog trails, even if people have reblogged it. not 100% sure on that though...

as for it being "healthy for the culture of the site", i hear you. honestly, this is something we've been grappling with for 10+ years on tumblr. specifically whether the original idea that "reblogs being always open means anyone can call you out on a bad take" is net-good or not. our conclusion over the last few years is: no. it's not net-good. it actually leads to more abuse, more hate, more general bad vibes than good. there are a large cohort of people on tumblr who tag things "don't reblog" and for them, it's a safety issue. they don't want bad memories circulating, they don't want their unfinished drafts being more popular than the finished ones, etc etc. it's a niche, but it's unique to tumblr.

based on the data we have, it seems net-benefit to let people control access to the reblog functionality than not. by the way: we've allowed advertisers to control this for many years, to their benefit. why not extend that to anyone/everyone? seems like the same core issue, and we have a long history of it benefiting them.

but! this is all an experiment, at the end of the day. all social media at scale is an experiment, imo. if it ends up that people are abusing this new feature more than using it in good faith, then we may roll it back. software isn't forever. it's literally a one line code change to take it away right now.

the best thing we can all do here is report the blogs/posts that are acting in bad faith, whether they're using this new feature or not. that's ultimately the signal we (staff) are looking for.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Trending

Summary: Steve thinks you’re too young to like him despite the obvious hints you’re dropping.

Warnings: unspecified age gap

Word count: 2246

a/n: I’ve clearly spent too much time on TikTok recently, but inspired me to write something so that's good. It was loosely based on a request for a young reader x Steve, but I forgot part of the request so I'm gonna write something else for that one! Also, I wrote this on my phone so please excuse any typos I missed when trying to edit it lol

Masterlist

Messing with Steve is one of your favorite things to do. Tiny pranks, over the top flirting, poking fun at his lack of understanding of technology. Anything you can do to get him to roll his eyes and chuckle.

Nat would say it’s because of your feelings for him. She would be correct. Not that you’d ever admit that to anyone. Nope. So instead, you have your fun, and enjoy the way his eyes crinkle and his cheeks redden.

Your newest method of hearing the sweet sound of Steve’s laugh? TikTok. It’s a double whammy. One because he doesn’t understand the app and two because a lot of the trends make him blush.

It started as a fun way to blow off steam. Sometimes, being one of the younger and newer team members made you feel like an outsider. Of course, Peter was younger than you, but he had his own friends outside of the team. You didn’t have anyone else. When Tony found you and invited you to join, it was you against the world. Now you have this makeshift family.

Having your account on TikTok helped you when you hadn’t really become a part of the group yet. You bonded with Peter because of his account, and you found a new way to make Steve blush.

Anyway, you’ve learned way more TikTok dances than you ever would have thought just to see his pink cheeks. It’s not even always over the top dances that have him chuckling. The last trend you did had him laughing the entire day. It was that sound about Wednesday Adams having one thing on her mind. Only when it said homicide, instead of a deadpan expression you panned the camera to show Bucky and Sam arguing over who got the last donut.

Of course, you knew when you made the video it would appeal to Steve’s sense of humor. Sam and Bucky feature in a lot of your videos for that exact reason.

In general, you make a lot of videos featuring the Avengers just to keep Tony happy. He likes to be the center of attention, plus the only way he would approve of your account was if it could also feature as PR for the team. You agreed, as long as you had final say over what you posted. There’s nothing scripted or designed for a specific reason, you just feature the team sometimes.

Like when that sound from the Big Bang theory was popular amongst Avengers fans, you made a video confessing to Pepper that you’d been thinking about the Avengers, panning to show the team during training.

Of course, the text on the screen said “you are an Avenger” instead of “I believe that”, allowing you to play off the joke. But still, it was fun to include the team.

One of your favorite videos features none other than Scott Lang, mostly because nobody else would do it. Scott thought it was hilarious though.

Using the sound from New Girl, Scott played Schmidt and you Jess. The text on the screen read as follows:

Scott: You just walk around all day thinking about America’s Ass?

You: Yeah, don’t you?

Scott: No! How do you get anything done?

You: It’s hard…

Steve blushed like crazy when everyone cornered him to watch it. Bucky, Sam, and Tony wouldn’t stop bringing it up for at least a month. A part of you hoped he might make a move after that video, seeing as you put yourself out there, but he just assumed it was a joke and laughed it off.

Honestly, you were running out of trends that you could use to get him to understand your feelings. You only had two ideas left, and one of them would be mortifying if it didn’t work out…

-

“Steve. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bucky sighed, exasperated with Steve for the umpteenth time that month. “You’ve been pining for forever, just make a move!” he whisper yelled, doing his best not to throttle his lifelong friend.

Steve rolled his eyes, purposefully ignoring Bucky’s pointed glare. The two men had spent the last hour looking through your TikTok account. Bucky was adamant that you liked Steve, but the blonde didn’t believe it, despite the so called proof Bucky kept forcing him to watch.

“Buck, would you please just back off? We’re friends. She’s too young to want to be with me like that.” Steve blushed, thinking about the context of his words.

Before Bucky could say anything about how repressing his feelings is bad for him, a new video popped up on your account. Bucky smirked when he saw the thumbnail was once again a picture of Steve, this time with a beard. Steve took the silence as an opportunity to escape, walking into his closet to change.

The video opened with a video of you and Natasha just hanging out, you lip syncing to the words “I like you have a cupcake.” You repeated the words as the video cut to you and Tony.

Bucky nearly dropped the phone when “smack my ass like a drum” blared from the speaker. He cackled bending over in a fit of laughter when he realized that’s what Steve’s picture was used for- and one where he had a beard to boot.

“What is it now, jerk?” Steve emerged from his closet, having changed into loungewear. The sight of Bucky fully cackling had him nervous.

Bucky tossed him the phone, doing his best to stop laughing long enough to tell him to watch the most recent video. With a hesitant sigh, Steve obliged.

Again, Bucky rolled his eyes at how obvious Steve’s feelings were. The second he saw you on the screen, he smiled. And not one of those half hearted polite smiles, a full on happy smile.

Steve’s eyes widened, nearly bulging out of his head when he got to the end of the video.

“‘She doesn’t want to be with me like that.’” Bucky mocked his friends earlier words, grabbing his phone back. “Punk, I don’t know how much more obvious she could be.”

With one more glare in Steve’s direction, Bucky finally left him to his own thoughts. Okay, so you made a lot of videos about how you find him attractive. That doesn’t necessarily mean you’d want to be in a relationship with him. Leave it to Steve to talk himself out of everything Bucky had spent so long trying to convince him of.

-

You were desperate at this point. You honestly thought the cupcake one would send him over the edge, but it didn’t work either. It has been three days, and you know Steve’s seen the video because everyone likes to tease him about it.

“Naaaaaat, it’s not working,” you whined, dramatically throwing yourself onto her bed. She laughed at your antics, briefly looking up at you before deciding to stop what she was going and give you her full attention.

“Look, not only is Steve one of the most clueless people I’ve ever met when it comes to women, but he can also talk himself out of believing someone’s interested in him. Especially you.” Nat watched as you lifted your head from her comforter, slowly turning to stare at her with narrowed eyes.

“Especially me?” you questioned. Why would you have a different standard?

“Y/N, Steve’s from the 40s. He’s super old fashioned. You're a hot young thing, super up to date on modern trends. He thinks you're just messing around as friends because he doesn’t believe someone as young as you would be interested in actually having a relationship with him,” she spelt it out for you, sick of trying to get you to figure it out on your own.

You took a minute to fully understand what she was saying, but then sat up when a new idea struck. “So you’re saying I need to be more direct?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded nonetheless.

“I’ve got an idea. Thanks Nat!” you ran from the room before she could question your newest plan, instead checking to make sure her notifications were on for posts from your TikTok account.

-

“Steve!” you shouted when you saw him down the hall, about to turn a corner. He immediately stopped, turning back to see you running at him. “I need your help!”

You pulled him into the gym, briefly glancing around the room to make sure it was empty. Confirming nobody else was present, you set up your phone on one of the weight racks to record the two of you. It was already open to the recording section of TikTok, the sound you needed queued and ready to begin.

“What’s going on?” Steve looked between you and the phone, nerves heightening as he realized what you were doing. All of your videos about him thus far hasn’t actually involved him filming anything.

“I just need you to react to this trend, okay? It’s kind of old, but that doesn’t really matter,” you spoke quickly, trying to start the video before he could decline.

The music started playing instantly, with Steve awkwardly looking between the screen and you. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was reacting to, and it had him on edge. Just as the song reached the chorus, you turned and grabbed his face. Throwing caution to the wind, you followed through with your plan before you could back out, kissing him with all the passion and emotion you’d been holding back.

Steve froze, clearly surprised by your actions. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. He kissed you with equal passion and emotion, no longer paying attention to your phone recording the moment.

Neither of you noticed when the music cut off, too wrapped up in each other. When the need for air overpowered the desire to keep kissing him, you pulled back to gasp in a few breaths. Steve leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closed and breathing erratic.

The two do you spent the next few moments just breathing, trying to come to terms with what just happened. You gasped when his hands moved, one resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek. His eyes were still closed when you chanced a glance at him.

“What was the trend?” he breathily whispered the words, still coming down from the high of kissing you.

“Huh?” you mumbled, unable to comprehend the question when he was still touching you like this.

“The TikTok trend? What was it?” his grip on your hip tightened, but his hand framing your face remained gentle.

“Oh, uh, it was- it was kissing your best friend/crush.” You whispered, heart still racing from his proximity. Your nerves had never been greater. Yeah, Nat always tells you that Steve has feelings for you, but what if he was just being polite? Maybe he didn’t know how to reject you when you kissed him out of nowhere, and now he’s trying to find a way to turn you down gently. What if-

“Was my reaction good enough to post?” he broke your train of thought with another question. You took a minute to think about the question, your brain still moving like molasses

“Um, that depends…” you froze when his eyes opened and stared into yours.

“On?” he prompted you to continue.

“Which caption I can use.” you finished the thought, finally remembering the two most common outcomes of the trend.

“What are the choices?” Steve smirked when you looked flustered, clearly not expecting this conversation.

“Uh, the two-” he began rubbing small circles into your hip with his thumb, effectively cutting off your train of thought again. It wasn’t until he lightly squeezed your hip again that you remember you were answering his question.

“Right! The two most common captions are some variation of ‘this was so awkward’ or ‘we’re dating now’,” you managed to blurt out the choices, blushing when he smiled at you.

“Well, I know which I prefer…” you waited with bated breath as he prolonged the silence, enjoying seeing you so on edge. You nearly whined when he let you go, moving to pick up your phone from the weight rack.

You watched in silence as he typed out a caption, tapping each letter with his pointer finger. A small smile formed on your lips at his adorable old man behavior. He then managed to find the post button, adding the video to your account before handing you the phone to see what he chose.

Your smile only grew after you read the caption, dropping the phone and immediately kissing him again.

-

Meanwhile, Nat had gathered the rest of the team that happened to be around to wait for whatever video you had planned to be posted.

Tony, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, Peter, and Clint all watched as the new video popped up on the screen. Peter bounced with excitement when he heard the song, instantly recognizing the trend. The rest of the group watched as you kissed Steve, mouths gaping open when he actually kissed you back.

Fans were already commenting about how long it took for the two of you to get together, but the team was too focused on laughing at the caption to pay any mind to the comments.

She said the trend was kind of old, but that fits because I’ve got a habit of waiting too long anyways.

Permanent taglist: @averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @strawberryspence @sebastnstn @jswessie187 @ellobruv

Marvel: @leyannrae @livstilinski @oceaniamaddness @justreadingficsdontmindme

[duuhrayliegh]

my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

*********************

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

[thefanficmonster]

What's It To You?

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: To some people, relationship labels aren’t important. To some they aren’t important only in theory. Well, Y/N finds out she falls in the later category, leading to a falling out with her boyfriend Corpse.

Requested by Anon. You’ll know who you are when you read the fic 😉 Thank you for the ‘angsty argument’ request. I hope I captured what you had in mind and I hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy 🥰

The time is nearing 7PM and Corpse has barely eaten anything. I always keep track of his meals and time spent in front of a computer screen, making sure he doesn’t spend too much time exhausting his eyes or starving himself. He never notices he’s hungry until he takes a bite of something and his appetite grows in  matter of seconds. The real battle is to get him to take that first bite.

I get up from the couch, walking into the kitchen. I open the fridge, scanning its contents for any ideas that might pop into my head for dinner. When nothing comes to mind, I resort to my last option - asking him. There’s only a slight chance he’ll be of any help. He’ll most likely say he’s not hungry or that he’ll make himself something late. He never does. I’ve gotten used to him being a man-child when it comes to eating. In the eleven months that we’ve been dating, I’ve force fed him more times than he has eaten on his own terms.

I go upstairs, stopping outside the door to his recording room to see if he’s talking to someone so I don’t walk in and interrupt. When no noises come from the inside I knock. 

“Come in.“ 

Upon opening the door, I’m met with Corpse nonchalantly sitting in his desk chair, leaning as back as he can without tipping over. Arms folded behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him. The whole nine yards, suggesting that he not streaming.

“Hey.“ He greets me as he turns his chair a bit in an attempt to face me

“Hey, what’d you like for dinner?“ He opens his mouth to reply the millisecond after I have spoken my question. I already know what that reply will be so I hurry to prevent it, “And no, ‘later’ and ‘I’m not hungry’ aren’t on the menu.“

He sighs, shaking his head as though he’s disappointed that I caught onto his game. The smile that slowly makes its way to his lips, however, suggests that he appreciates my concern. “Grilled cheese sandwiches? I mean, if you feel like it.”

I smile, relieved that the usual convincing portion of our interaction on this specific matter has been avoided. “Ok. Be down in fifteen then.” I give him a nod before heading back out into the hallway.

Before I am able to close the door, I hear someone else’s voice come from behind me. “Hey Corpse, was that on your end?”

Oh shit, he wasn’t muted

“Yeah man, sorry. Accidentally unmuted myself.“ Corpse sounds unbothered by this, but I am a little uneasy now.

Corpse and I have agreed to keep our relationship by a ‘won’t ask, won’t tell’ rule - if someone asks him if he’s in a relationship, he won’t lie and say no, but we haven’t gone public nor do we plan on doing so without someone asking us about it head-on. Well, not us. Him. His friends don’t know me and neither do his fans. I’m not in the same industry. I don’t stream nor film YouTube videos. The most I do for that platform is help Corpse with some editing when he needs to have a rest. So, if anyone were to reveal our relationship, it’d be him.

“Oooh, who was that?“ A girl’s voice asks teasingly. “Corpse, what are you not telling us?“

By this point, I’m out in the hall but I left my ears in the room. I know I’m not in the right here - eavesdropping is most definitely not nice, but I can’t help myself.

I hear him chuckle, “Nah, it’s just my friend Y/N.”

My heart drops so suddenly for a reason beyond my understanding. I feel like a kid feels when it’s told Santa isn’t real - I can’t believe what I heard. 

I hurry to get back downstairs as soon as possible and also as quietly as I can. It’s tough, running with a pit in your stomach and a knot of I’m pretty sure is tears in your throat. When I’m finally in the kitchen, the aforementioned tears are blurring my vision. I try to blink them away but accidentally send one of them trickling down my cheek.

I’m aware this might be an overreaction and if I stopped to think I could probably find ways to justify what Corpse said. But I’m genuinely hurt, and I hate that I am.

I’ve never cared about what others know about me or think of me. Same goes for my relationships. I don’t put labels on things nor on my connection to people. I am surprised and disturbed by how much the label ‘friends’ bothers me. We’ve been dating for almost a year now, you’d think calling me his girlfriend would be second nature. Guess not.

I swallow the hurt and surprise, deciding to keep myself busy with the preparations for the dinner I was planning to make. However, keeping my hands full and giving my eyes a place to look doesn’t stop my thoughts from eating away at me. 

                                                             * * *

Twenty minutes later the sound of a door opening echoes from upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps going through the hallway and then down the stairs. 

“It smells so good in here.“ He comments, his eyebrows raising when he takes in the freshly made sandwiches on the kitchen island. “You’re the best, Y/N.“

“Hmm, aren’t you lucky you have a friend who knows their way around the kitchen, huh?“ I reply sharply, not even sparing him a glance.

In the twenty minutes I was left alone with my wilding thoughts I declared that I wouldn’t beat around bush when he comes downstairs. That I would address the issue and tell him exactly how I feel about it. What I didn’t plan was being so harsh. I actually barely contain a wince when I realize how sharp of an edge my words had.

I feel ten times more guilty when I see the regret that flashes on his face, “You heard that.” He grips the edges of the table, leaning down and letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry, I panicked.”

The anger in me evaporates, leaving room for the hurt to keep spreading and take over me. I was never really angry with him, I’m just upset by the fact that his immediate reaction wasn’t to refer to me as his girlfriend. 

“Why would you panic? What’s it to you if they know?“ My voice is barely above a whisper now, the tears I’m fighting back are clogging my throat, not allowing me to sound as clearly as I’d like.

“What’s it to you? I thought you didn’t care.“ He argues back, his gaze travelling from the tabletop to my eyes. I see the guilt in all his features and his body language.

“I thought so too.“ I shake my head, “But hearing you call me a ‘friend’...’just a friend’ stings. I don’t even know why, but it does. It feels almost like you are embarrassed of me. If that’s the case you can just tell me, you know?“

In a blink of an eye he’s crouched down in front of me, one hand holding both of mine while the other cups my cheek. “It’s not. It has never been and it will never be the case. You are one amazing person, Y/N. You deserve the world, not to be stuck with me. I’m just...” He trails off, his eyes not able to focus on mine any longer, “I’m scared of how people knowing about us will affect our relationship.”

My blood starts boiling again. I know I need to get away from him before I reach the point of saying something that’ll hurt him, so I untangle my hands from his grasp, pulling away from him. “Weak excuse, Corpse. You know it will change nothing except make me feel more included in your life. I will no longer feel like I’m a house rat no one knows about.” I stand up, unable to look at him, and start heading for the staircase. 

“Y/N, please! ”I stop dead in my tracks when he calls out my name, his footsteps following behind me. “Don’t be...-”

I turn around, cutting him off in the process, “I need to be alone right now.” I tilt my head in the direction of the dining table, “Sit down and eat dinner. We’ll talk...later.”

                                                             * * *

Now that it’s been almost twelve hours with no contact between us I realize that my reaction was justified only to a certain extent. I understand his concerns and I could’ve expressed mine a little more calmly and in a lot less accusatory manner. But what happened happened and all I can do now is go over to him and apologize, establish a proper communication to resolve the issue that I so stupidly blew out of proportion.

My phone died sometime during the night and has been sitting on the charger but still turned off for a while. I go over to it and press-hold the start button. While it’s powering up I start changing my from my pajamas into my regular clothes, noticing a small stain on my shirt in the process. As I’m examining the stain, my phone starts going crazy with notifications, causing me to jump and drop my shirt.

“Fucking hell.” I mumble, disconnecting my phone from the charger and looking at the huge list of notifications on my lock screen. They are all alerts of new followers, likes and tags, non from people I know. Non except one.

@ corpse_husband tagged you in a post 

Wait what?

I tap the notification which leads me to a picture Corpse posted two hours ago. It’s a picture of me taken in the living room without my knowledge. I’m an oversized sweater and yoga pants, my hair in a messy braid and my attention caught by the book in my hands. My glasses have slipped a bit down my nose, suggesting that I’m too concentrated on the contents of the pages in front of me that I haven’t noticed.

We started off as friends but it didn’t take long for her to become my best friend. And then she stole my heart. I know you’ll read this eventually, Y/N. So...hi. Love you. 

PS - the sandwiches were bomb 🖤

I’m more than caught off guard. Like a surprise hug from behind, warmth spreading all throughout my body. 

Without a second of hesitation I put my phone down and run to the bedroom door. However, I don’t make it very far considering I nearly run straight into Corpse’s chest as I exit the room. He catches me before I knock him straight to the ground, thankfully.

“Aren’t you a rocket this morning. Where are you headed?“ He chuckles, holding onto my upper arms.

One look at his smile, a single word out of his mouth and I’m melting. I walk straight into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, hiding my face in his chest. He comfortably rests his chin on the top of my head, not asking any further questions until I finally answer.

“Right here. I was heading for you.“ I whisper before I pull away enough to be able to look him in the eyes. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I was being childish and overdramatic and I’m sorry about all I said. I was really upset.“

“It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry for making you upset in the first place. I understand now how much it means to you.“ He caresses my cheekbone with the back of his hand. “I...um...tried to make things right by...“

I push up on my toes, pressing my lips against his, putting an end to his timid stuttering. “I saw it.” I mumble in the kiss.

“Did you like it?“ 

“I loved it.“

“Did you read the comments?“

My heart skips a beat when I hear that dreaded term. Just the thought of reading through the comments terrifies me. I tell myself that some strangers’ words aren’t gonna have an impact on me, but I know they will. Especially since these ‘strangers’ mean so much to Corpse.

I shake my head. He pulls away, taking my hand and leading me towards the living room. “You have to. You’re gonna love them.”

I reluctantly follow him, plopping down on the couch next to him as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the comment section of the picture he posted. He was right. All these people have said such things about me and about our relationship. Some verified names are also there, sharing their support much like the fans. 

“See, this is why I was nervous. I’ll have to do duels for your attention now.“ He glances at me, leaning in and kissing my temple as he sometimes does so impulsively.

“You don’t do duels when you are already sitting at the throne. Right next to me.“ I once again capture his lips with mine, tempted to never pull away, but also tempted to keep reading the comments.

Damn, he might be right about the duels.

He takes his phone from me setting it aside as he slowly lifts me and settles me in his lap, never letting our lips detach.

Nevermind. Fuck the duels

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