#I doubt it will happen but it would be nice..

[sanguineterrain]

knight in shining helmet | jason todd

Summary: You're a princess who's visiting Gotham City. You weren't loving it to begin with—then you of course had to get kidnapped. Needless to say, your expectations of the night are in hell. You're hoping, at least, that you'll be rescued by the famous Batman. Instead, it's the infamous Red Hood that finds you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x princess!fem!reader 

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings/tags: kidnapping, rescue, reader and jason don't get along at first, violence, drugging, meet-ugly, 7-eleven food as a courting strategy, kissing, softie jason (he always makes an appearance somehow!), strangers to...not-so-strangers.

the divider

You suppose that, for a princess, you ought to have expected a kidnapping to pan out at least once in your life. 

You just didn't think it would happen tonight. In Gotham City. A place you weren't loving to begin with. 

“Unhand me!” you scream as soon as your taker's filthy, sweaty hand leaves your face. “You'll be executed for this!”

You're not actually sure of Gotham's death penalty policy, but you feel like it's something you should throw in. In any case, the three men who've dragged you away, tied you up, and bruised you in the process, should be a little more afraid of getting caught. 

“Batman will find you,” you add. “He'll save me.” You've heard great tales of Gotham's hero. If anyone can help you, it's him. 

That makes one of them pause. But the ringleader sneers at you. “If he finds us. He's got a lot on his plate every night, ya Majesty.”

“I am a priority guest in this city, of course he would—”

“Shut her up,” the leader snaps, and suddenly, you're being gagged. Disgusting. Completely unsanitary. You don’t want to imagine if the gag has ever been washed.

You keep screaming and fighting through the gag until a needle pricks your neck. Your terror spikes as you realize there's suddenly an ultimatum to fear: what if Batman doesn't reach you in time? 

That's your last thought as the drug renders you unconscious. 

When you awaken, it's still nighttime. Nearly pitch black, except for a dim lightbulb in the center of the room. It looks like you're in some kind of warehouse. You can't see much of anything and it makes you claustrophobic. Your head aches and your vision is blurry, and your cheek is pressed against a grimy floor. You just want to go home.

You try to sit up first, but that nearly makes you throw up, and you do not want to throw up through this ratty gag. So you swallow the feeling and close your eyes, waiting until the nausea passes. You open your eyes and they begin to adjust to the darkness. You’re alone, which confuses you.

Then you spot the explosives hooked up at the bottom of your dress.

The good news is that your kidnappers aren’t here. The bad news is that the reason they aren’t here is because they can remotely explode this place and you inside of it. If they don’t get the ransom they’re no doubt demanding, tonight will be your first and last night in Gotham. 

Another thought chills you to your bone: what if the explosives are set to go off whether they get the ransom or not?

You squeeze your eyes shut as the tears come. You’re going to die.

But wait. Maybe not. Surely, Batman is looking for you. And his young, brightly-colored companion. You never understood that color palette choice.

They’ll save you. Your father has no doubt alerted authorities. You’re the most important person in the city tonight! Of course people are looking for you. 

Yes, you’ll be saved, the criminals will be punished to the highest extent of the law, and you’ll be escorted back to your hotel where you can take a long, luxurious bath. That’ll be very nice. 

You’ll also never visit Gotham again, that is for sure. 

The door to the warehouse rolls open with a boom. You flinch and squint, trying to make out the figure. If it’s your kidnapper, you want to act like you’re still asleep. You think you saw that trick in a film at the cinema you snuck out to watch when you were young. You didn’t catch the whole film, though—you were found out by your guards before you could. Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d watched the whole film!

As the figure gets closer, you realize firstly that he’s a lot bigger than your kidnappers. You sigh in relief. Batman.

“‘Lo?” asks a gruff voice. “Anybody here?”

You shout through your gag. You can’t make out a face, but it’s alright. Relief floods you. You’re saved.

Your savior jogs to you. You tilt your head as you make out a… red helmet? With glowing eyes?

Wait a minute.

“Holy shit,” Not-Batman says. He pulls out your gag first. “Y’okay?”

Realization strikes you; you recall a story one of the party guests shared earlier in the night about a crime lord and his terror on Gotham.

"You're that terrible gangster that left a duffle bag of heads!" you blurt.

"In the flesh," he says, tapping the barrel of his gun to his helmet in a salute. Red Hood. “You don’t look very happy to see me, all things considered.”

“I don’t want your help!” you say, wriggling away from him. “I’m in an alliance with The Batman!”

He tilts his head. “‘S that so? What alliance would that be? Beauty Pageant Runaways For Bats?”

“I am not a beauty pageant contestant,” you say hotly. “I am a princess, and I have a small militia looking for me.”

He kneels in front of you, holstering his gun. His one of many, many guns. Your skin itches with sweat and adrenaline as he approaches. Those glowing eyes in his helmet flip your stomach. This is all wrong. You're supposed to be saved by a hero, not an outlaw. A criminal.

“Princess, huh?” Hood nods. “Ah, yeah. I heard somethin’ about that. They took you from the Plaza. Just my luck that I’d run into ya.”

“You mean, you weren’t actively looking for me?” you ask in a small voice. 

“Nope. You’ve got every vigilante and cop in the city looking for you, Your Highness. I came in here ‘cause I smelled motor oil.” 

Now that he’s found you, what does he plan to do?

“Are… are you going to release me?” you ask.

“Depends. Is this place rigged to blow?”

“My dress,” you say, unsure whether you should let him know about the explosives. A man who leaves severed heads in a duffel bag doesn’t seem wrapped up too tightly. 

“Hm?” Hood lifts your skirt slightly. He whistles. “Damn. This is some excellent work. Whoever did this is a pro demolitions expert.”

His praise doesn’t comfort you, oddly enough.

“Is it live?” you ask.

“Doesn’t look like it. And I’ve got a lot of experience with explosives. Just stay still for now.”

Hood squats and pulls out a knife. You shift. He's bigger than you even like this, crouched at your level. His shoulders nearly block your entire view. 

“Who were they?” he asks.

“Who was who?”

“The people that took you.”

“I don't know. They were wearing masks. Three men,” you say, frozen as he takes the knife to your feet.

“Mm.”

Hood begins to cut the ropes around your ankles. You delicately point your feet, unsure if he'll slip and get you. 

Your lip curls. "Where's Batman? Or that boy who works with him? Aren't they in charge of this city? I want to speak to one of them."

“I don’t work for the Bats,” he says, an edge to his words.

“Well, I don’t feel comfortable with you rescuing me,” you say. “You’re a criminal.”

Hood stops cutting and looks at you. "Y'want Batman? Fine. I don't mind letting you wait around for the Bat.”

He pockets the knife and rises, walking out of the warehouse and disappearing. Just like that. Your heart jumps.

"Wait!" you shout, squirming in your binds. "Wait, come back!"

But it's silent. Panic digs its claws into your chest.

"Red Hood! Red Hood, come back! Please!"

You begin to cry out of desperation, tears dripping onto your already soiled dress. You try to pull your feet apart, but the rope isn't cut enough and all you do is worsen the burns around your ankles.

You bow your head and cry onto the floor. You just want to go home. You want your goose feather pillows and Egyptian cotton ten-thousand thread count sheets. More than that, you never want to return to this stupid city.

"Are you cryin'?"

Your head shoots up. Hood stands over you, arms folded. 

"You-you came back," you say, voice wobbly.

He shrugs. "I had an inkling that you had a change of heart, princess.”

You look away. "You left me.”

"I did,” he says. “But as much as you might deserve abandonment, I'm duty-bound to rescue everyone. No matter how obnoxious of a Batman fan they are."

"I'm not a fan. I just didn't want the morally corrupt, violent drug runner to save me."

He leans down and snaps away the ropes from your ankles—a feat of strength that doesn't go unnoticed. Then he saws the ones around your wrists. "Yeah, well, I don't do that anymore, and for such a pretty face, you suck at sweet talking."

He tosses the rope aside and pockets the knife. You rub your wrists and attempt to sit up. This time, you don’t want to throw up. Success! 

“Anything hurt?” he asks. 

“My legs,” you say miserably. 

“Okay, let me rephrase: anything that'll make you bleed out in the next ten seconds?”

“Um… no.”

“Fantastic. I can probably getcha back to your hotel in an hour.” 

You hold out your arms expectantly. He tuts.

“I don’t give hugs until the third kidnapping. Fourth one is free.”

You huff. “You expect me to walk like this? They took my shoes! Gotham is so uncouth.”

“And what am I s’posed to do about that?” Hood asks. “I look like a Payless to you?”

“I don’t know what that is,” you say. “Don’t you vigilantes have a protocol to follow? I cannot possibly walk through this filthy warehouse on my bare feet. I’ll catch a virus! You’ll have to carry me.”

Hood lets out a full-bellied laugh. It’s somewhat eerie through his modulator. You lift your chin, maintaining your composure. 

“Oh my God! Highness, you’re a diamond-encrusted piece of work. I don’t carry anybody unless they’re unconscious and I like ‘em a lot. It’s a short list.”

Your brows furrow. “I’m a guest in your city, and I’ve been kidnapped! The least you can do—”

“The least I can do is leave you to rot here,” Hood says, tone cutting. “Or let your kidnappers come back and finish the job. You aren’t in whatever palace they carted you out of; you’re in fuckin’ Gotham, and if y’want my help, you’re gonna suck it up and walk.”

You look away, tears brimming once more. You sniffle. 

“You don't have to be so mean,” you say, voice watery. “I’ve had a difficult night.” 

It's quiet for a few moments. You've never cried as much as you have tonight, especially not in front of a stranger. A dangerous stranger. 

“...Look, I think I got some spare boots,” Hood finally says. “Stay here.”

“Where would I go?” you mumble. Whether he hears you or not, he doesn’t reply, stalking out of the warehouse. He returns thirty seconds later with a pair of ugly, black, man boots. 

“Used?!” you ask, voice high.

“Lightly, Your Majesty. They’re my spares. Here.”

Hood tosses the boots at you. You stare at them like he’s flung a pair of rats at you. He taps his wrist.

“Time’s a-ticking, princess. I’m on a schedule. I can always let you wait for Batman. He’ll find ya. Eventually.”

So you put on the boots. 

You attempt to stand next, but the drugs and binds have made your limbs weak. You try and fail to get up twice before Hood hooks his arms under yours and hauls you up without a sweat. You squeal, fingers digging into his brown leather jacket. 

He towers over you, doubly intimidating now that you're standing. 

“Got it?” he asks, arms slipping away. 

You definitely don’t have it, and you wobble backward. Hood grabs you again, hand on your back. 

“Whoa. Easy.” Hood cups your face, a little rough. You squirm, mind flooded with all the germs that are probably on his gloves. “Look a'me. Look—stop fighting, Jesus Christ.”

“This is no way to treat a princess!”

“Yeah, I missed that day of training,” he says dryly. “Stay still, I'm tryna see if your pupils are dilated.” 

“Your grip hurts!”

Hood loosens his grip and manages to keep you still long enough to examine your eyes. He hums and lets go.

“Seems like you’re still feeling the effects. Should wear off soon. Now…”

Hood steps back, but not so far that you can’t grab onto him should you fall again. He gives your dress a onceover. 

“So that’s not gonna work.” He takes out his knife again. Your eyes widen. 

“What on earth are you doing with that?” you ask, taking a small step backwards.

“Cutting your dress,” he says, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.

You gasp, backing away. “No you will not!”

“Princess—”

“This dress is one-of-a-kind, handmade for tonight’s gala. You’re not going near it! It cost seventeen thousand euros!” 

“Is it worth more than your life?” Hood snaps. “I don’t have any spare clothes and I’m not dragging a ballgown with three pounds of C-4 attached to it around. You have to be able to move and you have to get on my bike. Now quit whining.”

You sulk as he cuts and tears the bottom layer of your gown. He isn’t as savage about it as you expect: the cut is neat and could even be salvaged in the hands of a good seamstress. The night air makes your legs prickle with goosebumps. Then his words register.

“Bike?” you ask as Hood sets your dress remains aside. You’ll grieve for your dress privately.

“Mmhm.”

“I thought you had a Batmobile.”

“That’s Batman’s car. Hence the name. I have a bike ‘cause I’m a morally corrupt, violent, drug runner.”

Your nose wrinkles. “Can’t we take a taxi? Or call a car service?”

Hood snorts. “No one’s driving to this part of Gotham at this hour. It’s my bike or nothing. Or, of course, you can wait for Batsy.”

He starts walking and you hurry to follow. Hood’s strides are long and you’re unsteady in his too-big boots.

“Can you please slow down? These boots are enormous!”

He doesn’t say anything, but he does slow down, waiting until you catch up before leading you to his bike. It’s a nice motorcycle, you suppose, if you were into that thing. You’ve always thought motorcycles were a stupid risk to take. Being on the road is dangerous enough—why remove the comfort and protection of a car?

Hood’s bike is shiny and cherry red, just like his helmet. He produces a proper motorcycle helmet from nowhere and hands it to you. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask, inspecting the helmet. It looks fairly clean and unused. 

“Hasn’t killed me yet, and I’ve been dead once.”

Is that his idea of a joke?

“You’ll be fine,” Hood says at your silence. “I’ll go slow.”

“Alright,” you say, putting on the helmet. It smells oddly pleasant, like spicy cologne. “Very slow.”

“Yeah, yeah, very slow. C’mon.”

Hood kicks a leg over the bike and straddles it, all muscle memory. His muscles flex as he bends his legs. He pats the space behind him. 

Cautiously, you attempt to do the same, but you soon realize that doing that exact move in a dress is probably not the smartest. You hold onto the seat with both hands instead and clumsily try to fold a leg over. It doesn’t work.

“Yo, Bambi. This century would be good.”

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle!” you say, glaring at the back of his helmet. “You could help me.”

“For fuck's—” 

Hood turns around, grabs the back of your calf, and pulls. Your legs part and you shriek, certain you’re about to flash him. He holds your waist as you flail so that you don’t bang into him as you sit. 

“What is wrong with you?” you hiss, smoothing down your dress.

“Re-lax, I didn’t see anything.”

“This is highly undignified—”

“Yeah, we don't really do dignified in Gotham, princess. Comfy?”

“No.”

“Mm. Hold my waist.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all ya want.” Hood takes your arms and wraps them tightly around his waist. He’s warm and, oddly enough, soft despite his bulk. “You’re drugged and unsteady. If y’don’t hold on, you’re gonna fly off. Press up against me and hold tight.”

“Go slow,” you say again, obediently holding his waist.

“Yeah, I’ll go slow,” he says. 

“Do you promise?”

“Promise.”

Hood turns the ignition. The bike roars to life, louder than you expected. You suck in a breath as he revs the engine and starts off.

True to his word (and what a flimsy word it is), Hood goes slow. He takes gentle, easy turns and breaks at all the stop signs, even though this part of the city is essentially abandoned at this hour. You’re able to study the streets, twinkling streetlights a little too bright to your recovering eyes. But you look anyway, shocked at the dilapidated buildings and uneven pavement. You’re definitely not in the Gotham you were earlier tonight. It hardly looks like the same city.

You turn your attention to your savior. It feels like an odd word to use for the Red Hood, whom you’ve heard enough about tonight. Your father had warned you excessively about what a dangerous area this was, and who exactly made it so dangerous. 

But a savior is exactly what Hood has been to you. You decide that, despite his roughness, he still deserves a good reward. Perhaps a Hoodmobile. Or new boots.

Your rescue is going smoothly until you cross the bridge. That’s when another biker turns onto the road behind you. 

“Shit,” Hood says, and you’re startled that you can hear him so clearly despite the noise. It’s like he’s in your head. “We’re being tailed.”

Well, that’s not good. You turn around briefly but you can’t make out your follower; you’re too scared to move on the bike.

But then you hear the bike behind you speed up. 

“Motherfucker,” Hood says, and speeds up. Your arms tighten into a death grip. 

“Hold on,” he says, like you'd do anything otherwise. 

Hood speeds up and takes a sharp left turn. You tense and yelp, squeezing your eyes shut. He takes several winding turns and you keep your eyes shut through all of them. The nausea has returned and you’d prefer not to ruin the inside of his helmet with your stomach contents.

“We lose him?” he asks when the road levels off and it doesn’t feel so much like you’re on a rollercoaster.

“Um…” you begin, and chance turning around.

It’s clear for a few seconds until…

Well, to echo Hood’s sentiment: motherfucker.

“He’s there!” you yell, and Hood growls.

“The helmets are mic’d, you don’t have to shout,” he says, leaning into a left turn. 

“I see him!” you say, and grab one of Hood’s holstered guns. He scrambles to grab it but misses, surprise slowing him down.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!”

You ignore him and take off the safety. Moving your free arm up to Hood’s neck, you fire. He curses up a storm, throwing in a few words you’ve never even heard. 

The shots go wide; one dents a parked car, and one hits a stop sign. 

“You’re fuckin’ nuts!” Hood yells and snatches the gun out of your hand. 

But your tail falls back, evidently spooked enough by you and your poor aim. He turns on a side street and disappears.

“He’s gone! We’ve lost him!” you say happily. 

“Are you insane?” 

You wince at his volume. “The helmets are mic’d, you know.”

“You’re so—”

Hood cuts himself off and pulls sharply onto the sidewalk. He dismounts and pushes the kickstand down hard. Then he turns to you, chest heaving.

“Don’t ever fucking do that again. Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten us killed!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” you ask, putting out your arms. “We lost him!”

“No, we didn’t. All we did was throw him off our trail a little. We gotta walk the rest of the way now because he probably fell back to get more guys to follow us. But that’s not the point: what you did was insanely risky and stupid. You don’t know how to use a gun and you could’ve hurt yourself.”

You stay silent, chewing on his words. Hood isn’t wrong, he’s just… loud about it.

“Do you understand me?” he snaps. 

You don't reply. 

“I need a yes.”

“...I wanted to help.”

Hood sighs. “Yeah, well… just don’t. I’m good at what I do and I’ll get you back in one piece. But you gotta trust me.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. You feel small, but you don't want to cry in front of him again and confirm that you really are just a spoiled, whiny princess. “I'm sorry, Red Hood.”

You sit down on the curb, feeling exhausted. Tonight is awful. 

It's quiet for a long moment. Then Hood says, “Don't cry.”

Your jaw works as you swallow hard. “I'm not.” You turn your head so he won't see.  

“Christ on toast,” he mumbles above you. “This is exactly why I don't do rescue missions—”

You sniffle. “I'm not crying.”

“—’Cause I'm the world's biggest asshole,” he finishes, voice miles softer. 

Hood sinks onto the curb next to you. He scoots in just enough so that your shoulders brush against each other. 

“Look, ‘m a jerk. The Bats are better at handling civilians and being nice. You got the potty mouth with a bad attitude.” 

You rub your eyes. “I don't like yelling.” 

“Yeah,” Hood says quietly. “Okay. I'll try not to yell unless you're in immediate danger. But you can’t pull stunts like that. Deal?”

You nod. “I won't fire any more of your guns.”

He snorts. “Yeah, no kidding. Where’d you learn how to shoot, anyway? I mean, y’didn’t do it well, but you did it. Not half-bad for your first time in Gotham.”

“My father wanted me to learn gun sports,” you say. “I learned how to take the safety off and point and shoot, but I refused to do any more lessons after my instructor shot a duck for target practice. I think guns are uncivilized and destructive, and I don’t condone killing animals for sport.”

“Uncivilized unless you're getting tailed by kidnappers?” You think you detect a smile in his question. 

“Everything has its exceptions,” you say primly. 

“Ain't that the truth. C'mon, we should get moving. We're, ‘scuse the saying, sitting ducks out here.”

Hood stands first and offers you a hand. You take it, letting him pull you up. He does that so easily. It makes your spine tingle. 

“How far are we from my hotel?” you ask.

“‘Bout two miles. If I had my gear I'd call for an assist,” he says apologetically. “Wasn’t planning to save lost princesses tonight.”

“I don't suppose there's any chance that you'll carry me, is there?”

“Pretty and funny,” Hood says. “You're the whole package, beauty queen.”

Your snarky reply is cut off by your stomach growling. Your eyes widen. 

“Pardon me,” you say, mortified. 

“What, ‘cause you're hungry?” Hood asks. “‘S a normal human condition.”

“You don't know anything about royal manners,” you say, but you're relieved. Your father would give you a tight, deadly look if you were hungry in public. 

“No, I really don't. Born and bred Gotham, baby.” 

“Showing any signs of hunger or thirst around company is highly undignified,” you say. 

“Being a princess sounds exhausting.”

No arguments there. 

Hood starts walking. You scramble to follow, and he seems to remember your shorter stride and slows down. 

“There's a pretty decent 7-Eleven nearby,” he says. “I'd take ya to my favorite diner, but we're on a tight schedule. Those guys won’t be far behind.”

“A seven and eleven? Oh, I've heard of those!” you say. 

“I’m… glad you're so excited about convenience stores?”

“I saw it in a film once. My father didn’t catch me watching this one. It looked so rugged, eating in a convenience store and fighting crime afterward. I've never been to one.”

“I know I shouldn't be surprised considering how much your dress cost but it does kinda blow my mind that you've never tasted anything but the finest cuisine,” Hood says. “Wait, did you say your dad didn’t catch you?”

You hum. “He doesn’t like me watching films that aren’t pre-approved.”

“Wow. Y’know, I could pirate you some movies if y’want. I know a great website for it.”

You laugh. “That’s alright. I manage to sneak out to the cinema more than I used to, now that he’s older.”

“Pretty sneaky, beauty queen.” He sounds impressed. 

You shrug, trying to hide your pride. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

You turn on the corner and he leads you through a residential area. A few people outside of their apartments stare at you, but when they see Hood, they relax. 

“Red!” a little boy shouts from a fire escape. He waves excitedly. Hood waves back.

“Hope you’re listening to your ma,” Hood calls to him, mock-stern. To anyone else—to you—it would be unnerving. 

But the boy grins. “I am!”

“Then why aren't ya in bed, huh?” 

The boy shrugs. “Not tired. Who's the lady?”

“The lady is a princess, so be nice,” Hood says.

“Whoa!” The boy gapes at you. You wave at him and he jumps up from the window. 

“Mom!” he yells. “Red Hood found a princess!”

You giggle as Hood leads you away. 

He shakes his head. “Kids.” He sounds terribly fond. 

You stare at his back for a moment. 

“They like you,” you say. “You keep them safe. But you're also a friend.”

“Helps to earn their trust,” he says gruffly. 

You walk a little more in silence. 

“I was wrong about you, Hood,” you say. He doesn't look at you. 

“Lotta people are. Nothin’ new.” 

No, it probably isn't. 

“‘Kay, here we are. C’mon. We gotta be fast, alright?”

“Alright,” you say, following him into the 7-Eleven. 

“Hey, Benny,” Hood says to the tired cashier behind the counter.

Benny nods. “Long night?”

“You got no idea.” He gestures to you. “She’s a princess.”

“Sweet,” Benny says. “What’s up?”

“How do you do?” you say politely. 

Hood leads you to the rolling hot dogs and other cylindrical foods under the heat lamps. You frown.

“I have had a hot dog before,” you say. “I’m not that sheltered.”

“Yeah, but have ya had a buffalo ranch roller? My brother and I used to get these after patrol. That with a blue raspberry slushie? Heavenly after getting thrown into a dumpster.”

“Well, you’ve gotten me this far, so I suppose I’ll trust you,” you say.

“I’m flattered. Benny, my usual.”

Benny gives a thumbs-up and puts the ‘roller’ in a paper bag. Meanwhile, Hood takes you to the back where the slushie machine is. You watch as he fills a plastic cup with electric blue sludge. Your brows raise.

“Why is it that color?” you ask.

“Tasty chemicals,” Hood says cheerily. “It won’t kill ya, I promise.”

“That would be counterintuitive at this point,” you say. 

“I appreciate your faith in me, princess.”

You return to Benny, who rings up the food. “Five twenty-seven.”

Hood looks at you expectantly. You look at him.

“What?” you ask.

“This is the part where you pay,” he says.

“A princess never carries money on her person,” you say, like it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard.

“You–” Hood looks at Benny and sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”

He pays and you take your treats, trotting out the door. 

“Thank you, kind sir!” you say as Hood waves. 

“See ya, Ben.”

You hold out your slushie for Hood to take while you work on your fried goodie.

“I’m not a cupholder,” he says, but he takes the cup anyway.

“It’s warm!” you say, delighted. “Let me take a bite.”

Hood patiently waits as you bite and chew. You hum.

“Good?” he asks.

“I like it,” you say. “It’s unusual. Is this chicken?”

“So they say,” Hood says. “Try the slushie.”

You take the cup and first take a small sip. It’s cold and sweet and slightly sour and probably full of enough sugar to rot your teeth out of your head. You love it.

“This is wonderful,” you say. 

He laughs. “Yup. Told ya, nothin’ like this combo. It’s a classic. C’mon, let’s get moving.”

You walk and eat, and it definitely improves your night, having something in your belly. 

“This is just like Roman Holiday,” you say.

Hood snorts. “I don’t think we watched the same movie.”

“It has a likeness. You’re Gregory Peck.”

“Yeah, sure. If Gregory Peck was a street fighter, then yeah. I’m Greg fuckin’ Peck.”

“No, you’re right. You’re much younger than he was in that movie. How old are you?” you ask.

“Twenty-four.”

“Really? Why are you doing this?”

“Took a career test.”

You bump his shoulder. “Seriously, Hood. You’re young. You’ve so much potential. I can tell that you’re smart.”

“Maybe I like doing this,” he says.

You tut, shaking your head. “That’s ridiculous. You could do more. Be more.”

“You’re just fulla charm, aren’t ya?” Hood says. 

Your next step is hesitant. Hood keeps walking. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” you say. “I guess I assumed…”

“Yeah, I know. You assume a lot, princess. And you’re wrong.”

“You made assumptions about me! You thought that I was stupid and naive and I’m not.”

Hood stops, turns. “Maybe I like doing what I do, huh? Ever think of that? I meant it when I said I’m not a criminal anymore. I help people.”

“I know that,” you say quietly. “I see how the citizens treat you. They like you. You care for them greatly. I just… I just meant that you could try new things too. If you wanted to.”

He’s quiet for a bit. You keep walking. 

“I didn’t think you were stupid,” he eventually says.

You scoff. “Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t. Yeah, I thought you were a little… sheltered. But you’re smart. You’re certainly tougher than your dad gives you credit for.”

You roll your eyes. “He still thinks I’m six years old. It takes me getting kidnapped to see a city.”

“Pretty shitty tour.”

You smile behind his back. “Oh, I don’t know. The tour guide is alright.”

Hood stops. When he doesn’t speak, you approach.

“Hood?”

He suddenly puts a hand over your mouth and drags you backwards into an alleyway. Your yelp is muffled. Hood puts a finger to where his mouth would be under his helmet.

That’s when you hear voices.

“—single fuckin’ clue. She could be in the fuckin’ Atlantic by now. Halfway to China!”

“China’s on the other side, dumbass.”

You look up at Hood, eyes wide. 

Those are your kidnappers' voices.

He seems to understand and nods. He squeezes your arm and removes his hand from your mouth. He points to himself and points outside, then points to you and points down. 

You assume that means stay put and don’t try to shoot anyone with his gun. You can take a hint.

Hood slinks out of the alley. You peek your head out to look, curiosity overtaking fear. Besides, you trust Hood. You figure with a reputation like his, he can more than handle his own. 

“Nice night, ain’t it?” he says. 

The two men turn, looking close to pissing themselves. Good.

“Hood, we weren’t doing nothin’!” one says.

“Yeah, Ricky and I are clean!”

“Oh, really? So you had nothing to do with the kidnapping of a certain visiting princess.”

“We was nowhere near the Plaza!” Ricky cries.

The other elbows his friend. Before you can blink, Hood has them both down on the ground, pistols pointed at their necks. 

“You were gonna hurt her,” Hood says, and now there’s no trace of humor in his voice. “That poor, sweet princess. Strapping C-4 to her like a fuckin’ bank vault. Drugging her, tying her up. You fuckin’ animals.”

“It wasn’t our idea, it was Bobby’s!” Ricky cries. 

“Shut up, Ricky!”

A shot rings out and you flinch. Ricky starts sobbing. Red seeps from his leg.

“The only reason I’m not killing you two right now is because I want a word with your boss. But make no mistake.” Hood leans in. “You’ll pay for hurting the princess. I’ll make sure of it.”

With two final hits, Hood knocks them out cold. The sudden silence is loud. 

He looks at you then, those eerie eyes glowing. He beckons you out. You go. 

You look down at the unconscious bodies. “You don’t have to kill them.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’d rather you didn’t. You shouldn’t have that on your conscience.”

“They kidnapped you. They would’ve hurt you had their boss ordered it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I don’t want you to bear that burden, Hood.”

“‘S not a burden,” he says, gently taking your wrist. Your eyes fly open. “If it’ll make you feel better, safer, anything. It’s no burden.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, frightened at how pleased a part of you is at his words.

“I’ll tie ‘em up and send for ‘em when we get back. One second.”

You watch as Hood drags their bodies into the alley like they’re sacks of feathers. He handcuffs them to a drainpipe and ties their feet and gags them. 

“So they can see what it feels like,” Hood says, dusting his hands. You can’t help your small smile. 

“Ready?” he asks.

You look up at the starless sky, suddenly exhausted. Your limbs feel like lead. “I guess so.”

Hood looks into the distance, then back at you. He sighs.

“Climb on my back.”

You blink. “Pardon me?”

“You’re pardoned.” Hood shrugs. “I can tell you’re tired. We don’t have far to go.”

“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask. “All that way…”

“Princess, I’m honestly offended. I once carried Batman and my brother to Bludhaven. I’m more than capable.”

“But what about your rule?” you ask. “About carrying people.”

“Turns out you’re not so bad,” he says. “Get on ‘fore I change my mind.”

So you climb onto Hood’s back. He secures you easily, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Don’t choke me out,” he says. “Otherwise we’re both goin’ down.”

You smile and relax on his back. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

At first, it feels like an eternity, waiting for the familiar Plaza sign. You can’t complain, though: Hood is warm and being carried by him is even better than riding on his bike. 

You blink, startled at the thought. What are you even talking about? This is the Red Hood. You were terrified of him a few hours ago. 

And yet, the rhythmic bumping and Hood’s solid figure lulls you to sleep. You don’t even realize until you’re being nudged and a voice pulls you back to consciousness. 

“Hey.”

You’re gently jostled awake. You blink blearily, yawning into Hood’s shoulder.

Oh. Right. You’re on his back.

“Hm?” 

“Ride ends here,” he says. “We’re at the Plaza.”

“Oh.” Sleepily, you try to climb off. Hood sets you on your feet. Embarrassment fills you as you become more awake.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. You could’ve woken me! I—”

Hood holds up a hand. “Hey, chill out. ‘S fine. You had a long night, I get it.”

“Right. I, um…” You look up at the hotel. The top floor windows disappear in the layer of fog that’s settled over the city. You wonder what Hood’s windows look like. 

“I’m gonna track down your main kidnapper and make sure they don’t hurt anyone else. I’ll kick his ass, at the very least.”

You look at Hood, blinking. “Oh. That’s very nice of you, thank you.”

He shrugs. “‘S my job.”

You nod clumsily. “Right, of course. I could give you something in return, though. Money or, um, firearms. A car, perhaps?”

He snorts. You smile shyly. 

“Cute,” he says, but he’s not being mean. “No, that’s okay. I’m pretty set, actually. Doing what I do is surprisingly lucrative.”

“Surely there’s something—”

“Seriously, princess, no charge.”

You bite your lip. Is this too bold? Yes, definitely.

“What about a kiss?”

At first, you think Hood hasn’t heard you. Then he turns to face you in a way that tells you no, he definitely heard you. 

“Ex-cuse me?”

“Um.” You scratch your neck. “Well, princesses kiss their knights goodbye, don’t they?” you ask, but it’s weak. It’s stupid. You’re so young.

You think he’s going to just walk away. That would be the kindest thing to do in response to your blunder.

“I’m sorry, forgive me. That was a terrible joke,” you blurt.

“No, it wasn’t.”

He steps forward, close enough to kiss you if he didn’t have the helmet. You look up at him, heart pounding.

“Wasn’t terrible or wasn’t a joke?” you ask, blood roaring in your ears.

Hood’s quiet. 

“Haven’t done much kissing, to be honest with ya,” he finally says, not answering your question. 

You shake your head. “Nor I.”

“Mm. And y’wanna kiss me? Don’t offer ‘cause you think you owe me.”

“I want to kiss you, Hood.”

He tilts his head. “Y’wouldn’t be kissing a knight. More like kissing a toad.”

You frown. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m no Greg Peck. And I’m no hero either.”

“Do you give this speech to everyone who wants to kiss you?”

“You’re the first one who’s wanted to,” he says.

You inhale sharply. “Oh.”

“Uh-huh.”

You wait. He waits. You both wait for the other to back out. You don’t. Neither does he.

“Can’t believe a princess wants to kiss me,” he mumbles.

And then he covers your eyes with his hand.

You blink, lashes sweeping over his glove. You hear a click, then a hiss of air. His helmet hits the ground with a dull thud. 

Hood gingerly holds your chin with his free hand. You keep your eyes closed even though he’s covering them, out of respect.

His mouth is warm and so, so gentle. You barely feel his lips at first, so you press a little harder. Hood doesn’t know what to do with his mouth, resting it on yours, so you take the lead, following what you’ve seen others do and what you’ve watched on television.

You reach up and hold his face. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. You stroke his stubbled jaw, feel strong cheekbones and the ends of curls above his ears. 

“Your Highness? Your Highness!”

The hand leaves your face so quickly, your eyes stay closed for a second longer, slow to react. Then you open your eyes and see the empty street.

Your lips tingle with heat. It’s all noise around you, policemen and your guards flitting around you, asking questions, alarmed by your torn dress. 

You exhale, disappointment overtaking you.

Your father is in front of you, taking your wrists. “Can you hear me? Doctor, I need a—”

“I’m fine,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m alright, Father.”

He exhales and pulls you into a hug. It startles you. He pulls away before you can hug him back.

“I am so glad you’re alright,” he says. “The police say they saw a figure with you. Who was that? Was he your kidnapper?”

“No, not at all,” you say, staring out into the street beyond. Your lips are buzzing. “He was my hero.”

[roxineedstosleep]

Sooo... some ideas that happend to appear in my mind.

But, let's make the situation a bit more ridiculousand angst. Bc, Damian is, after all, the reason why the batfam members start to notice you.

More over, after some no so nice situations that Damian put you through.

-----

Damian, who by now is starting to sound like the Shepherd Boy Who Cried Wolf, starts to become completely annoying not only to you - who in all the mess of construction and petty adventures never causes anyone any harm - but to all the adults in the family.

Dick got tired of listening to Damian - especially when he interrupted one of the arrests he was making at the time - after he threw a tantrum when he found you sitting on the couch trying to dress Titus.

According to Damian, you had created an international dog and pet clothing brand of such gamma that the debut and closing of your canine fashion company had happened in the living room of the mansion. I mean, yes, you really had created a pet clothing brand, and the international debput definitely happened in the mansion… only nothing was there anymore because one of the guests - a very nice Arab heir, it should be noted - decided that the brand would be the perfect gift for his fashion designer wife. So he took it all away at that moment.

Only some garments had been left behind and you had thought it would be a waste that no one would wear them. That's how Damian and Dick found you, trying to make a dog sweater fit Titus, Alfred the Cat was wearing a tutu.

Dick clearly had to put a stop to it after Damian to tear Titus' new sweater in his eagerness to show the tag.

Bruce had to get involved, and nearly fainted when he noticed the price - per the shop's website - of the sweater and tutu. The only good thing, at least he reckons, was that the garments were fail demos of the originals, so they had come at a good price. Clearly, he and Bruce don't know how a box from the official shop later arrived at the mansion - they don't believe Damian's story about how he heard you calling the owner about the incident and how they would send you new sweaters - and he didn't want to know how. But Bruce didn't hesitate to chastise Damian for interrupting Dick.

He just hoped that these silly accusations would end and not escalate any further.

Or at least that's what he thought until what happened with Tim.

--

And Tim, was not happy about it.

The two brothers, per se, don't usually have more problems than they already have in missions. But even Tim began to find Damian's childish hyper-fixations tedious.

I mean, he knows what his brother has been through, and no doubt a part of him is glad to know that at least he's getting something normal out of childish behaviour with these imaginative accusations… but even he knows that the last thing he accused you of was a bit out of line.

Not long ago you had managed - he's a little embarrassed to admit he had no idea how or with what money, and he won't listen to Damian with the ridiculous idea that it was with the money from the check that Arab millionaire gave you - to get yourself a small shaved ice cream machine.

So, at least from what Alfred once or twice mentioned about the increase in fruit-flavoured caramel on your shopping list, you've been making shaved ice for a few weeks now. It seems that was enough for Damian to drag him out of bed - after he'd been on a 15-day mission with almost no sleep or coffe- and drag him all over the mansion, with the silly excuse that you'd created an ice amusement park for the penguins at the Zoo.

When they both arrived in the courtyard of the mansion, they only saw you eating some ice together with some classmates from your school. Your eyes were red from crying and the machine was broken no so far from you and your friend were sitting.

You were sitting down, as if you had had a little polar-themed picnic - because of the white pillows and the blanket that prevented them from touching the grass - along with some penguin stuffed animals of yours and some shaved ice around them. That's not to mention lots of games, like Dick's old trampoline and Ace's forgotten slide next to the ball pit.

Unfortunately, from what your classmate mentioned to him when he asked about your broken shaving machine, you were in the middle of a ��penguin ice party’ with more of your classmates when Damian arrived it. That apparently made all the guests leave because of the fuss that his little brother made. No affter he run to find him to bring him there.

Which, it wasn't all bullshit. Your little machine made too much ice, which prompted a friend from school to call an acquaintance who brought the penguins from the Zoo - because their freezer in their habitat was broken and would take a couple of hours to fix - and the whole place filled up with classmates, penguins and ice. Damian saw the whole mess and ran so fast that he accidentaly pulled the cable that was connecting the machine, breaking your machine in the process. Not only was the party cut short, but the Zoo had already settled their business and taken the penguins back to their place.

And that's how Tim found you.

Crying next to your friend, who tried to comfort you by giving you one of the last shaved ice cones. While all your blankets adn penguin stuffed animals were getting ruined or wet from all the ice that had started to melt.

It is worth noting that even Dick - after hearing the story from him- found that accusation towards you rather distasteful. And Bruce had to replace the machine with a new one; though even Tim felt sorry for you, since after that incident you donated it to Gotham Zoo.

Even though, he was kind of surprised to later found out that your donation brings you the Gothams Zoo's appretiation. Since later on, you arrived with some new penguins stuffies and theme blankets.

... on a more light-hearted note, imagine a phineas and ferb scenario except neglected! reader is the gifted child that is overlooked by platonic! batfamily, building all sorts of insane contraptions mysteriously disappear for unknown reasons and damian is the only one in the family seeing this shit happen, slowly losing his mind trying to bust his sibling to bruce or his siblings (etc.) only to find that giant robot/waterpark/space rollecoaster is no longer there. once again he looks like a resentful brother trying to incriminate his only blood sibling, whom he seems to have a vendetta against.

i mean, can you blame them? you're just sorta there. just doing your own thing, going to school, hanging out with friends, keeping to yourself. it's embarrassing to admit, but they often forget you live at the manor. you're one of the teenagers to exist. so when damian comes running to dick, saying "look! look! i finally busted them. the cameras caught-" only for the magically corrupted footage to show him 3 minutes of you hanging out under a tree, cut, hanging out under a tree again, let's say dick is... confused.

or when he removed jason from a mission, guiding him at full speed back to the manor, where you were home alone and working on a weather-changing machine because you wanted to have winter snow during summer, except they arrive to find you eating cereal on the kitchen counter. no machine to be seen.

eventually they just dismiss it as damian being petty and acting his age for once. it's the whole being bruce wayne's only blood child and heir to the wayne legacy that you kinda got in the middle of by existing and stuff, they're sure. i mean, you? doing all that? the very idea is so absurd it doesn't even trigger their suspicions. you're the civilian among civilians, every time they look your way you're doing homework or watching funny orange cat compilation videos on youtube.

whether damian's failures to expose you are absurdly coincidental or you just know how to avoid the batfamily's watchful eye is up for debate. well, it's for the best, either way. there’s a 104 days of summer vacation and you're basking in being left alone by the family, and bruce would be livid if he found out about the things you've been doing behind his back, so...

just... hope they don't find out, okay?

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Okay, so, the ask about yandere platonic dick cheating and how the reader would react has me wondering; what would happen if the reader somehow found out that Dick didn't actually change and decided to go no contact, because they couldn't trust him or maybe because they just don't want to be around someone like that? Would that cause Dick to spiral more? What exactly would be the consequences of going no contact? (Like a complete cut off, although it'd be a bit hard to do that since they live in the same house)

(I was a bit disappointed to read that he probably wouldn't change, but it seemed realistic to me because habits are hard to break and everyone in the batfam is messed up. Although, I imagine after years of therapy or something similar there might be some sort of change. But, I doubt anyone in the batfam is getting therapy... except maybe reader)

Sorry yeah, i don't like to think Dick is actually a cheater or this shitty. I just like to humor different scenarios i get requested. But you cannot deny that this man is a messy whore. THIS IS THE FACE OF EVILLL

context

Look, cheaters are so sloppy. Even the ones who put the most effort into it are always bound to slip up. I imagine batsis isn't a fool. Like Richard...no way did you just go from being a serial cheater to suddenly being completely cleansed. You're an addict baby boy.

Like i said at first he's actually wanting to get clean for his baby sis and to be a good role model. I think it'd be very obvious to you that he's actually trying. He's irritable and really struggling to cope with the fact he has to put the phone down. You can see him obsessively checking his phone for what you'd assume to be a message or notification from one of his hookups. You can tell he's torn up about loosing his partners because he came clean about his unethical practices....

There's no hiding. This is such a deep seeded issue and it is really taking a toll on him. This is something like you said will need YEARS of therapy to fix.

So now Dick is trying to bullshit you a few days later...right in front of your salad! He's just sooo happy and he's proud about this new leaf turned????? Yesterday he looked like he was about to breakdown in tears because he'd been abstinent for just 48 hrs...and now he's glowing???

Dick, your patrol ended at 2 am last night...you came home at 6 am...please don't play with me rn.

not me getting heated. lol

He doesn't explicitly tell you he's back to his old ways. He's willing to keep lying his way into keeping you and this habit but it's undeniable. You know that his gf only forgave him because he lied to her too. It makes you sick when you saw the text of him telling her that he's busy with family and then left out for the rest of the day to go be with someone else.

Maybe you explode on him about it? Last time you were as nice as you could be about it but you cannot deal with the games anymore.

I liked to think in this scenario you're yelling at him and he's just still gas-lighting you, He throws every card to make you feel bad for accusing him. It absolute drives you mad. He's just so calm while you're are trying not to strangle him.

"Baby bat, i love you. I think you're just tired and are imagining things. You're convincing yourself that i'm still the old Dick because you're hurting...i understand and I forgive you. Maybe we should set up therapy sessions to help you let go of the past? Hmm?"

"YOU MOTHER FU-"

Ugh but i love him he's so fucked

The irony of him suggesting you therapy when he's the one riddles with mommy issues and the most insane coping mechanisms...

Dick isn't going to allow you to go no contact. You cannot go no contact with someone you live in the same house with. You are bound to interact and when you are dealing with someone like dick...it just won't work. The bat kids are extremely resilient and are well versed in making someone crack. You wouldn't be the exception.

More realistically you'd probably just be cold towards Dick. That's the best you can do. Not really responding to him and basically stone walling...

But i imagine this version of Dick to be much more forceful. He's done with your self righteousness. How dare you suggest moving out. That isn't an option because he needs to see his baby sister everyday. You are breaking up the family over this. You cannot cut him off because he's flawed...it's not that serious y/n. None of the other siblings are breathing down his neck. Maybe if you weren't so frustrating..he could actually become a better person. You are the one that is preventing him from being better with all your pressure!!

You packed your bags and are fully ready to walk out of this family for good because there's just too many wrong doings swept under the rug and here comes dick who is FUMING... He's trying to rip your bags out of your hands and grab you up..

You are not doing this to him. Stop being so-

Maybe your siblings step in and help you to leave. They help Dick calm down because they respect that it's your choice to live how you'd life.

Dick isn't stopping once you're gone. Especially if you're still in Gotham. There's a shadow that follows you where you go. Tons of messages and calls from unknown numbers. Even scarily enough..a blue toy bird left at your door with a small note that read

"Missed me, my little birdie? We'll be seeing each other again soon."

[aethesfaelibrarae]

Mouthwashing has given me a lot of brain worms and we've got thoughts—time to share them with the hungry void that is Tumblr. One of the last places I'm 90% certain my words won't show up stolen or regurgitated by machine.

Warning for spoilers about the game and rambling!

I believe that Mouthwashing is a modern-day Lolita. The storytelling is similar, in that, almost against their own better judgement and will, the audience finds themselves thinking like our unreliable narrator(s).

Most people.. Sorry, some people have cottoned on to the fact that Anya's personality is not that of a scared, timid and ultimately, useless nurse and she's been in fight or flight response for months now with no other choice but to fawn. As someone who has been in a similar situation for only one day a week for months, the fear only got worse, the longer I went without support. And the things that she does in the background.. No doubt similar to the way that Daisuke kept track of their food supply was brushed over and unsung.. So is the fact that Anya has been keeping a severe burn victim—with 4th degree burns so severe, any treatment we currently have is experimental and expensive.. If the pain does not kill you first—she's been keeping Curly alive for months with no help and incredibly minimal supplies. (I personally think that Anya probably was on the side of giving him an easier death or maybe even suggested a gentler way of giving him medicine—but (sterile) syringes in space? Limited water? An especially dismissive Swansea and go with the flow Daisuke?.. Easier to try and give Jimmy what he wants.)

But. I believe that people overlook the ways in which Catastrophe Jim's perspective on Curly twists our own. Pre-Crash Curly exists upon a pedestal—a good man, better than Jimmy could ever hope to be; a good, well-liked captain. Well-off, better looking (I say this because of the similarities in how Jimmy mentally views himself in similar shape and age as Curly) and still reaching for more. For better. People catch the underlying jealous and resentment for the life that Jimmy wants at all cost but.. They miss the pedestal. The miss the fact that if Jimmy says that Curly's better than he is, a good and better Captain.. That means that Curly is doing the bare fucking minimum: keeping them all alive year after year. Curly is a nice captain with the capacity to soothe over minor issues and keep a cool head and keep the crew on schedule.. But he is not a good one. He's not even a good person. Not really. Jimmy thinks of him as a good person, puts him on this pedestal that he's foaming at the mouth with excitement to pull him off of. Dirty the golden boy and spit on his silver-threaded bootstraps once and for all.

Except.. What evidence do we have that Curly is especially liked or respected? Where is this cheering crew? Where is Curly good?

Curly is a human, at the end of the day.

And.. Which comes to my more complicated and no doubt contriversal take... Curly is also a victim of Jimmy stuck in fawn response. This doesn't absolve him of the ways in which he failed the crew but Anya especially by letting Jimmy run amok and failing to take any action while he still had the chance. He stood by when Anya begins to hint at something beneath the shiny veneer of a happy tight-knit crew and most damningly, he stood by as Jimothy entered the cockpit immediately after suggesting a plan to kill everyone aboard.

I genuinely.. Genuinely.. Don't know what he thought would happen.

But he does take action.. And his last action is what makes he and Anya swap places. Except.. Not truly.

Yes, they are in similar situations—vulnerable to the whims of a psychotic madman with an inferiority complex and their plight largely ignored by the crew; a necessary sacrifice to keep the peace.. Just until safe harbor—but where Anya begins to gain autonomy and some relief from Jimmy no longer having a need for her.. Curly finds himself the center of Jimmy's world.

And that is not a great place to be in.

Curly is systemically isolated (bad-mouthed to the crew over and over again, berated publicly, blamed for an awful accident that Jimmy caused) and his torture and abuse mirrors the continuous, silent medical, emotional and physical abuse that many disabled people face. And almost in a worse way, his voice is stolen from him and used in such insidious inspiration porn.. A lot of people think that he actually said those things.

But we won't know. And if he did say these things.. Why does Jimmy only seem to (mis)understand them in the final acts? Recalling them in Curly's voice but not as the Captain but as a savior, his last charitable act to wipe the ledger of blood clean.

Jimmy doesn't want to see Curly better. He likes feeling useful. He enjoys having Curly watch him and in the same breath, he loathes it. He wants Curly's judgement. He wants Curly's praise. He wants.. Everything that makes Curly Curly.

Curly as a silent observer isn't remarked on often.. Nor is the fact that more than likely, the others heard Curly's sobs of pain from the medbay. But Curly is very conscious, very aware and very alone in his thoughts.

There's a point in which the perspective changes during Swansea's mercy killing—a gift that no one offers Curly—and once again, Curly is stuck watching all of his mistakes play out, one after the other. Unable to do anything but laugh.

But is it a laugh or a sob? Jimmy doesn't care and neither does the player—what's important is the objective: the gun. 739. Click. He steps over Anya's body like it's not even there and runs away.

We don't find out what set Swansea off—maybe Jimmy couldn't help himself and said something about Daisuke or Anya that blamed them. Maybe it was something else. Curly watches on. Helplessly.

There's something to be said about the black screens and the static that occurs when Jimmy hurts Curly or kills Swansea—like he's cutting the memory off before the guilt can get to him. And it's the same thing I'd like to bring up about Curly's voice. Yes, it takes a lot to speak without lips.. Or from what it looks like a tongue.. But there are more noises Curly can make. Noises that can refute Jimmy.

And in the same way that he's at the precipice of something so terrifying he keeps returning to the same spot that's slowly killing him, he's learned that fighting is useless.

It's 2 months after the crash when see Jimmy's perspective again, after all. And while Anya's requests for help seem to be new.. Who's to say that the beatings are?

The worse type of abuse is the type that leaves no bruises. After all, Curly cries all the time in pain.. What's the difference here?

To cycle back to my original point in this.. I don't see a lot of people consider Post-Crash Curly's living hell as another facet of Jimmy's abuse going unchecked by the people around him as anything other than comeuppance. As Karma. And it's the coldest take I've seen from the fandom so far. Allow me to reheat it up for you: disability so severe that you must rely on others is not divine punishment. It's not just desserts. Just as disabled people are your infantilazed, idealized, inspirational iron woobie that can take pain and push through it.. They are also not being punished by the divine. They are humans and sometimes shit just happens and it sucks.

The way that Jimmy views Post-Crash Curly as a saving prop.. Proof that he can indeed fix it.. is so normalized that as the audience, it can be something that you aim to achieve–one of the earliest and easiest achievements you can get is opening and closing Curly's mouth like a mannequin.

There's a relief that we share when Curly shuts up. There's a shutdown in empathy when Jimmy brutalizes him. Up until we can no longer look away.

Because Jimmy can no longer look away. And that is the chilling part of all this. Jimmy gets away with it—all of it—because of the crew's inability to overcome their own apathetic acceptance of the monster in their midst.

Just like most people accept the main character from Lolita as a gentleman, the crew accepts Jimmy as a guy. A little rough and short-tempered but what do you expect from blue collar work? Hold your nose, it'll be over in a year. In 8 months. In 10. Soon. It'll be over soon.

I can't help but worry if Jimmy weren't so bad at being likable and if he were even a smidgen of the charismatic mastermind, he so clearly wants to be..

We'd have another Valentino on our hands.

Mouthwashing is a horror that I can't help but devour. FEAST, indeed.

[alicechess]

Art x reader part 2

Note: This hasn't been proof read, so my bad if it's not the greatest I smashed this out in like 4 hours. So not the highest quality chapter. I might fix this up at one point, heavy maybe.

@ch1hvro

--------

--------

You felt ill after the shift, it could be explained, it absolutely could be, right? Just a coincidence, a man dressing up to be a dick, then point at the plastic ring on your hand because he thought it was amusing, and joked that it was him who gave it. Yeah, just a joke, coincidence. You settled on it being a coincidence. 

As soon as you got home, you took the ring of and but it on your bedside table, you didn't want to wear it, you were meant to Halloween night, but it completely slipped your mind. 

However, that night, you heard on the news he somehow escaped the morgue today, in the morning. The news reporters stated the injuries, and allegedly a few people who work in the medical field said how unlikely it would've been for him to survive. They then stated that the poor mortician was brutally murdered too from him, because of course he had to do it. Does that mean it is possible he came to your work today? If that was him, why? He didn't have any blood, or any visible injuries at least. He moved perfectly fine. 

You shook your head, there was no point in thinking about it. If you saw him again, then it absolutely wasn't a coincidence, as there would be no way to justify it. You then turned the TV off, then went to bed. The thoughts of him stuck in your mind as you laid there, the whole day repeating over in your head. How his attention was stuck on you, why that specific Cafe, and although again, the ring may just be him being a dick and not knowing. It still bothered you, all of that happening within the span of an hour. Eventually you fell asleep, your dreams, of course, had him there too. 

The next morning you awoke in a cold sweat, your heart racing rapidly. Once you glanced around and noticed you were in your room, you felt relief.

Just a dream

Maybe you needed to ignore the news, take a break from social media for a few days or even a week. You had no doubt some people would be talking about stuff, but you just had to hope you wouldn't overhear anything. Maybe it'd be good to take a day off, though you knew your boss would be pissed and so as your co-workers. You've barely taken days off the whole year, maybe 3 at most. 

You decided to send a message to your boss, explaining that you have some family stuff going on, and if you could take the day off tomorrow. 

Hopefully he'd be fine with it.

You started getting ready, after showering

--------

You walked into the door of the Café, the ringing bell irritated your ears. You walked into the back, you had to do a bunch of dishes from last night since one of the other workers had to leave early. Your co-worker spotted then greeted you, "Hey, you look like shit."

You rolled your eyes, "Wow, what a nice way to say good morning Charlie." 

They gave you a cocky smile, "I know I know, I'm wonderful aren't I?"

That damn smile was contagious, "Aww, and I've got you smiling too."

A small chuckle left you, "Yeah yeah, anyway, how longs your shift today? Anyone else in?"

"Uhh, till about 4. I have another job on the side to earn extra. And no, Laurie left about 10 minute ago, she had to leave early as she had an appointment."

"Ew, that's gotta be painful, and god damn it, it would've been nice having a third for today.

"It's painful, but moneys money, world can't go on without it." They sighed, "And I'm trying to save for a new car, the shitbox out there ain't gonna last much longer." They said, taking the eggs out the frypan. "Anyway, can we talk more during our break? Can't have customers complaining."

"Yeah sure, that'd be great actually." They then walked out with the plate of food. 

Your morning was a lot easier to deal with after that interaction, although you hated to admit it, they were annoying at times but you loved them. They were a great friend, and made working a lot easier to tolerate.

You filled the sink and placed the dishes in there, cleaning the least dirty to the most. More and more dishes came, but you tried your best to stay ahead. The dishwasher was going to take forever and only could do a small amount at a time, so this is unfortunately a job that had to be done.

After about an hour, you were close to being finished, and so was the dishwasher. After, you put the dishes away, then went up to your Charlie to check if they needed help with anything.

"To be honest, not really, business is slower than normal, which is a fucking relief." They whispered, so none of the customers could hear. 

"Nice, is Chloe gonna be here soon? It would be nice if she could cover the register, and we can chill in the back."

They shrugged, "Not sure, she's meant to be here at some point today but that's all I know."

You groaned, "Alright, since business is slow should I just sweep and mop now?" 

You heard that cursed bell ring, and you heard a honk. You instantly turned around, wondering what that noise was. 

"What the fuck..." Charlie muttered under their breath.

Your eyes widened, bile rose up in your throat. You stood still for a few moments as you locked eyes with that fucker, then you sprinted towards the staff toilet. You leaned over, the breakfast you ate not longer ago instantly came up. Your throat burned as acid tore at your throat. You clenched the toilet bowl as it kept going. You body shook rapidly from fear and shock.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

Why is he here, it was meant to be a fucking coincidence. Do I have a murderer stalking me?

You weren't sure what to do, but after about a minute you heard your Charlie running over.

"Hey, hey!" They said crouching down, rubbing your back. "What the hell was that? Are you okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah...." You croakily mumbled, your legs wobbling as you slowly stood up.

"Stay there if you need to, I can handle the front for a bit." 

You shook your head, "I'll be fine, it's fine. Just give me a minute and I'll clean up."

"Look Chloe should be here soon, when she gets here I'll explain you were sick so you had to leave. Got it?"

You rolled your eyes, "I'll be okay, I just got nauseous.-"

"No, you're heading home when she gets here."

You wanted to argue, but you knew it was probably a good idea. You didn't want to see... it again. 

"Fine, can I help just till she gets here?"

"Yeah sure, just don't overwork yourself and let me know if you feel ill again."

You nodded, moving towards the sink to splash water on your face. "Alright, I'm gonna head back, don't rush yourself I can handle it." They patted your back again, then walked off.

You looked down at your shirt, and thankfully there was no vomit. So, you went back to helping Charlie. As soon as you were in the doorway you spotted him, sitting down. "Hey, is it okay if you could pass this to the customer in the clown suit real quick? I just need to prepare another order."

You nodded, trying to not show your fear to them. "Yeah, of course!"

While you walked over, you noticed his eyes were on you. You looked at the floor, knowing it was rude but you were so afraid. You put the pancakes down in front of the clown. "Here's your order... sir." You mumbled, giving a forced smile. As you starting walking away, he beeped the horn. 

"Did you need something?" 

He nodded, gesturing you to come closer.

He looked at your hand, a frown forming on his face. But not a second later is was replaced with that eerie smile. He stared at you as he purposely knocked the plate down onto the floor. It shattered onto the ground. He covered his mouth, giving an exaggerated 'Oops' face. A few customers looked over giving a confused and concerned expression.

Your face turned into a thin line, what the fuck "I'm sorry sir, I'll be back." You quickly muttered, walking to Charlie, "Hey, look I can't do this right now, can you please talk to the clown? I'll do whatever you were doing before. I'm just really uncomfortable around him."

They nodded, noticing you were shaken up. "Yeah that's fine, but what's going on? You look horrified, did something happen?"

You shook your head, "It's nothing, just can you help him?"

"Okay, I'll do that now, you just need to make a strawberry milkshake for table 5 while I deal with the clown."

"Easy." You immediately started to work on it, you scooped the ice-cream, poured the milk and strawberry-flavoured syrup and then blended it. You occasionally heard words from your Charlie while they were trying to communicate with the clown. But of course it went nowhere. As you were pouring the milkshake into a plastic cup, they came up to you. "I have no idea what he wants, he's not responding at all to me. I clean up the mess, but I don't know what else to do. Was he at least responding to you?"

"Yeah, I guess, but I really, really don't want to talk to him. He's... scaring me." You glanced at the floor, feeling embarrassed. 

"It's okay, I'll figure something out. Other customers are starting to feel uncomfortable as well. Fuck, Chloe needs to get here soon."

"Yeah, hopefully, should I contact the boss?" 

They nodded, "Can you contact Chloe first? We need her here soon."

"I'll do that now, I'll try and make it quick." You hurried out to the back again, pulling out your phone. You dialled her number, but it immediately when to voice mail. "What the fuck..." You murmured, trying again. And again. You groaned, then decided to send her a quick message.

Y/n: Hey, are you still coming into work today? 

You hoped she'd read it soon, then you dialled your bosses number. Thankfully, you heard her voice on the other end. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, I heard from Charlie that Chloe would be coming in today at some point. What time would she be here? She isn't picking up any of my calls. "

You heard a sigh on the other end, "Give me a moment."

After 15 seconds of rustling sounds, she answered. "Alright, it says she'd be on around 2pm till 8pm. Is she not there?"

"No, she's not. It's 2:30."

You heard another sigh from your boss, "I'll try and contact her, that's all I can do. Is that all you needed?"

"No, I was wondering what to do about a customer. One of them is making me and Charlie uncomfortable. He keeps.... just doing stuff."

"If you want advice I need more details." 

You took a deep breath in, "For one he's in a clown outfit, which in itself isn't bad but it's just how he's acting doing it too. If that makes sense, and he purposely broke one of our plates, and acted like it was all funny. He then wouldn't talk to Charlie, only me. It's just such bizarre behaviour."

"Normally threatening them with the police will cause them to stop, but if he continues call the non-emergency line for the police. That's it."

"Alright, thank you."

"Bye." She said, the line ending.

You walked back to the register to talk to your Charlie. "Chloe was meant to be here at 2. What the fuck do we do? She isn't picking up my calls, she's not answering my messages and the boss just told us to threaten the clown with the police but fuck that I'm not comfortable with it I don't know him and he's scaring-"

"Calm down, you're gonna be okay. This isn't a big deal you'll be fine we can figure this out. I'll talk to him."

You glanced over your shoulder to look at the clown. He was sitting there, his chin resting on his hands, giving you a wink. 

"God fucking damn it." Your muttered under your breath, he waved at you, then gesturing for him to come over again. "He wants me to go over again, what do I do? What the fuck do I do?"

Charlie bit their bottom lip, "I can go over if you like and try again, but I doubt he'll listen."

"Fuck, fine, I'll fucking doing it." You whisper-yelled, immediately going over towards the clown. You noticed most of the customers had left. How had no one called the police yet? Maybe they thought it was someone trying to be funny? 

"Hello sir, is there anything I can help you with?"

The clown told you to stop, raising his pointer-finger. He then went through the garbage bag next to him. You heard the sounds of metal hitting metal, making you feeling almost as sick as before. He pulled out an envelope. You stared at it for a moment, noticing brown splotches over it. It looked like dried blood. You also noticed how there was a bump inside. You were about to place it down, but he gestured for you to open it.

You stared with widened eyes, really not wanting to. "I'm sorry sir... I-"

The clown gestured one more time, a deep frown on his face. You were afraid, so begrudgingly, you open it. And inside was a chunk of blonde hair, with a small amount of dyed-blue strands. You pulled it out and saw a piece of someone's scalp was attached. The blonde hair looked identical to Chloe's. You placed it back down onto the table, stepping back. 

"Why.... what did she do to you?"

You knew what he did. It was obvious. But all you wanted to know is why. Yeah she could be bitchy at times, but she never had bad intentions. Not anything worthy of her fucking dying.

The Clown silently giggled, slapping his knee like it was the funniest joke in the world. He pointed at you, mimicking a horrified look and then continued laughing. 

"Oh fuck this." You muttered, Charlie looked over and saw the terrified look on your face. "Charlie we need to get the fuck out now!" You yelled, grabbing their arm, dragging them into the kitchen. To get out through the front, you would've had to walk past him again, and that was not something that you wanted. 

You shoved them inside and slammed the door shut, locking it. "Grab a knife Charlie." They didn't ask questions, just grabbing it off the bench. The clown was walking over towards the counter, where you'd pass food through to the person at the register. He stood there smiling. 

"Nope, don't look just fucking get out." You urgently said to Charlie, grabbing their arm and leading them to the back door. You unlocked it ran out with them. You rummaged through your pockets and grabbed your keys, your hands shaking as you tried to open the car door. 

"Y/n your tires have been fucking slashed!" 

"Oh for fuck sake!" You yelled, this time they dragged you. You dropped your keys while they pulled you, "My keys!"

"It doesn't matter Y/n! There's a fucking psycho chasing us." 

You followed them, running to the nearest store. You looked behind, noticing the clown was behind, with that fucking garbage bag thrown on it's shoulder. 

As Charlie ran into the store, they yelled to call the police. They didn't care about scaring the workers, they just needed to make sure the both of you were safe. The woman at the register looked confused. They ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind the both of you. They fumbled with their phone, dialling the emergency number. 

"What's your emergency?"

"There's a fucking psycho chasing after us! He's trying to fucking kill us!" They yelled, sounding hysterical. 

"Okay, calm down. Are you safe right now?"

"I think so, we've locked ourselves in a random stores bathroom. We don't know where he is right now."

"Okay, what did he look like?"

"He-he was wearing a black and white clown outfit, like the one from the news!"

"Alright...." The operator said, sounding like they thought it was a prank call, but they still continued.

"What store are you in right now?" 

Charlie turned to you, "Do you know where we ran to?"

You shook your head, "I-I wasn't paying attention, I'm sorry!"

"It's fine." Charlie murmured, "We don't know, but can you guys track the phone?"

The woman sighed, "Yes we can, but if this is a prank call you will be in serious trouble."

"We aren't fucking lying, my fucking car tires were slashed and this fucker gave me an envelope with co-workers scalp in it! Get the damn police here right now or we could get brutally murdered!" You screamed at the operator.

"Please calm down, the police are on their way." The operator said, "Please stay on the line, are you hearing anything outside of the bathroom?"

Charlie spoke up, "No, it's oddly quiet out there, I... I don't know where he is. I don't know if he followed us in or not. We didn't look around."

The only thing you could hear was cars driving by, it was otherwise painfully silent.

"Fuck what happened to Chloe, oh god I hope she's okay. Please Chloe be okay." You whimpered, dropping to the ground. "Fuck I'm sorry Chloe, I'm so sorry." Tears welled up in your eyes, then started streaming down your face.

Charlie knelt down, placing their phone on the tiled floor, "Hey, it's okay, Chloe might still be out there. Probably not in the best condition but still maybe out there." They gently hugged you.

You sniffled, "What if that psycho grabbed my keys, I'm not even going to be safe in my own fucking home." You sobbed, "I didn't even do anything to him!" 

"I know, some people are just messed up, but you'll be okay, I'll make sure of it. No ones going to hurt you." 

Eventually, you heard the police sirens and them shouting. After a few moments they knocked on the bathroom door. You immediately unlocked it, running out. "Did you find him?" You asked, your eyes showing the hope in this being simple, like maybe he was waiting outside or something stupid. But of course, reality didn't work that way. 

"The only people we found were the workers here, I'm sorry." One of the officers said, "Do you have any injuries?"

You and Charlie shook your head.

"Alright, we're going to need to take you in for questioning."

--------

[coffeetraces]

the judge from hell: ending thought dump

i would say i'm insane that the first thought i had when the credits rolled was "where's human bitna's soul???" not because the drama would be better if she shows herself, but because they showed her escaping and just didn't give us any closure. nevertheless, despite this, they gave us such a unique way to justify justitia's stay on her body. not to mention the bael deal (giving her 3 years of vacation before returning) and the cliffhanger lucifer deal (10 sinners killed in a year to be fully human) (we should get a season 2 at this point). the three scenes leading to the ending clearly showed us how her morals changed in the way she was conflicted with her decision about the un-remorseful defendant, to her (VERY BEAUTIFUL) callback on her scene with the children asking her about justice.

they also resolved the serial killing trope really well. the idea already of making the murderers feel how they killed their victims had such a nice build up from the first SA suspect until this serial killer. then when they built the coffin displays for all the victims while J was hanging himself was, in a way, a peaceful closure for the victims. it showed his remorse (despite bitna forcing him to do so), and putting an end to their worries that justice won't be served to him (he escaped, plus the way he told myeongsuk ahjumma that he was eating well inside jail) and he got what he deserved. again, not to mention that in the earlier episode, bitna and her chief judge refused to give in to the assemblymen's pressure to acquit him. i know, justitia has her own firm judgement already. but it made her human anyways.

side note: i found it funny (a bit) that bitna's death scene in episode 13 never fazed me. was this an effect of snowdrop still? jk.

and coming from this - i loved the pay off of every decision and interaction bitna and gabriel had. i already had the vibe initially that every test gabriel gave bitna would be beneficial for her to have more points from God, hence the reincarnation. and the cute scene too at the end - where his new form asked her to treat her to burgers because she promised on her funeral that she'll buy her dinner. the details of this show is very meticulous and i love it.

it was also so heartwarming to show all the victims after two years with the closures they showed. it's also really a good thing that the show only showed around 5 suspects instead of stretching it to how many episodes they have (a lot of law shows do that) so we still get to see everyone.

and, of course - han daon and kang bitna. i loved how much they trusted each other's judgments when it comes to the heavy decisions about their morality. i think this is the best way to show a relationship - or if anyone should pick a partner in the future, it would be with someone who trusts your wisdom to choose what's best for you. and both of them are, in a way, morally good decision makers. not to mention they were both so supportive of each other. daon never gave bitna the burden of giving up her future in hell by not doing the killings. he has his role as a detective, she has her role as a judge. such a nice partnership! and when it comes to their romantic scenes, i'm fine with all the subtle and natural moments that they had. they didn't have any extravagant cliche romance scenes except for the imaginary wedding. the long kiss was also a huge pay off after all the teasing of steamy moments with no kisses, interrupted kisses, the pecks, then we get "[nv] you should kiss me as much as you love me." [!!!!!!!!!!!] damn!

and park shinhye, of course! the best thing that happened to this drama. i apologize as i was a bit doubtful of her. i didn't like how she portrayed cha eunsang in the heirs and now i realized it was just because the writing of her character was so goddamn stale. but like what the director said - if there was an actress who can show her subtle cute style and be an action star villain-main character, it should be her. she showed well how justitia's mentality transitioned from being a full blown demon with no remorse to someone who felt immense sympathy from the victims and han daon's experience, and of course, the girlboss girlfriend vibe.

of course, not everything in this drama is unique. but it is refreshing. it also stresses important messages about justice that should be said especially in this era - the number one rule of justice is the law should not forgive what the victims couldn't. apologizing is an obligation, but forgiveness is not. justitia's trials cover admission of crime, asking for forgiveness to the victims, and remorse for the deed, all three core things that people sometimes forget when cases like murders and such happen. korea should know better after seeing this show. [coughs]

and, as always, we should never waste the potential of kim jaeyoung and park shinhye. GIVE THEM A MOVIE!!!!!

also kim jae young the new korea IT boy lfg

[malewifehenrycooldown]

sure it’s great vice and mature are next season dlc for kofxv but it would be cool if idk… KOF put some respect on the maximum impact series and brought back the meira brothers + luise for the 20th anniversary of maximum impact.

[vaguely-concerned]

I'm guarding my heart against expecting adoribull crumbs in veilguard because I really don't believe it's going to happen. I think that might be one of the sweet slender branches on the possibility tree that they'll gently and quietly prune away from relevancy, especially since it doesn't involve a player character. dorian will almost certainly be back (hey hiii bestie how have you been? stressed out of your mind I imagine), but I can't imagine they'll let you get too granular with setting up your world state, especially since after ten years they will be expecting to have a lot of players who are new to the series. like AT MOST I can imagine a little background detail implying an amicable bittersweet breakup rather than dragging out the long distance and danger of it all as tevinter politics heat up, if you're allowed to set them both as being still alive.

all that being said I still want it so fucking badly tho fhdskjfhas

[ohitslen]

I am here, once again, with my Ao No Flag propaganda

These two specific panels of Toma were the thing that made me think over a year ago “Man. I want to be like that too” as in KAITO drawing expression because—

The subtle shift of emotion, it’s present all throughout the manga, but this is what sold it for me. For no particular reason, it’s not even the best example, it was just what sealed the deal to me

[xtinyslip]

"… it was a lie. a lie that not even he was aware of. my father? he was adopted, he was never actually born a pederson." he had a right to know because in a way it had shaped a lot of his years as much as it had shaped hers. hadn't it? he'd been right there with her, when her father had been making her life hell ; he had a right to know that basically… it had all been bollocks. "he was, is. it's rather complicated. not much of a surprise there, hm?" she smiled but it was evident her smile was full of sadness. no, she had never wanted to lose parker but her father having to lose will? all because he had been the one to constantly defend her? none of this should ever have happened.

"you like it?" but she clearly already knew the answer with how she was grinning back. the fact she was grinning, for whatever reason made her blush. perhaps, because it felt like she hadn't grinned genuinely like this since the last time she saw him alive. "that's a strong possibility but i'm not sure that there's a chance of ever changing that now, hm? i'm not sure we're a viable match for normal, those days are long behind us. normal is… boring. i could care less for it. i would rather have complicated with you than normal with anyone else." she didn't care for normal, it was a word she'd never practically known the meaning too. not really. she'd never experienced it. "bring someone? i'm not sure how appropriate it would be for me to show up with my ten dogs? is this place even dog friendly?" she did smile at him, she was being… playful. it was her way of telling him that there was no one like THAT. she had people, she wasn't completely alone but how could she ever love anyone else? "there would be eleven of us. i can pay." she chuckled, letting her thumb stroke over the top of his hand. in all seriousness, she wasn't about to show up there with all her dogs. no, hardly practical. "we could… we could do dinner? i'd like that? unless --" was there someone? not that she cared if there was. that might have been terrible but again, she didn't care. "i could tell you or you could come by sometime and see it for yourself? i could give you the not so grand tour?" the house she picked was nice, no doubts about it but it wasn't… it wasn't the level of fancy that anyone was expecting. "that's alright. you didn't know. i wasn't even aware you were here. this is --" well, IT WAS MEANT TO BE. was there any other way to describe it? "lovable? i'm sure you are the only one to describe me as that." when he placed that lock of hair behind her ear, she knew she was blushing again. it wasn't even the act, it was just because it was him, and so a simple act meant so much more just because it was him doing it.

"i'm not so sure about that. it's been rather… tough for me in that department but i would like to believe that it is." tough was an understatement. how many people had let her down? she didn't want to think about it. "i can, and i will. it's not what you think." she saw him glance to his hands, bringing her hand to gently hold his wrist and give it a reassuring squeeze. "lets them? are they not old enough to make that decision for themselves?" she was defensive but over him, and the fact that this was clearly some kind of fucked up power play ; one she used to know too well and she didn't want that hanging over him… or gabi. "take it from me, and i'd know. money isn't everything. i have seen how you are with gabi, i've seen it parker. i'm sure you're a fantastic father." cecilia instantly felt her body tense when he said that this had all been paid for by elaine, it meant that she could take it away with a snap of her fingers. she'd been in the restaurant once, she held no real attachment for it yet but clearly he did. "no," and it was a sharp no. "you don't owe that woman anything. i have the money, however much it is? tell me, you can have it and use it to pay her back. tell her you won big, i don't care as long as she knows it didn't come from me. i'm asking you to trust me, will you?" she was doing this to protect him, and the money was just sitting there. she didn't want it, she would rather have them both be alive and none of that happened, than have a penny of that money. "yes, i would like that and so would winston. he's been… struggling recently. i'm sure a new friend could be exactly what he needs. we'll set a date, hm?" no hesitation. was she using winston as an excuse to see parker? perhaps, but she was sure he wouldn't mind. well, maybe he would but she was sure he would have a nice time regardless. "if he ever approaches you? don't believe a word he says. call me, and do not go anywhere with him. parker, this is important." because she couldn't… she couldn't do that again. she let him embrace her, sinking into his embrace was the safest she had felt in months. she knew it was by how her breathing was beginning to calm, become less erratic than it had been. "this time it's you that lives." her voice was quiet, even with his hands on the side of her face but regardless of how quiet it was. she meant every word.

cecilia wasn't sure whether they could deepen this kiss any further, however, he proved her wrong and she was glad of that as the kiss deepened. "i love you." she wasn't even aware that she'd managed to say it through the kiss, she didn't even know she'd said it out loud but it didn't matter ; she meant it all the same. she'd pressed the emergency stop button, it would freeze until she pressed it again or until maintenance wizened on and brought the elevator manually to his floor. be mine? i'll do whatever it takes to be yours. the tears were because… this was overwhelming her senses but for once it was in a good way. for the first time since this had happened, she wasn't secretly drowning in grief and guilt. now she was drowning in him and she welcomed it, she welcomed this feeling. this time, this moment, this space was there's and she had every intention of making the most of this time as she could. her lips hadn't broken from his, she had no intention of them doing so either, only in the brief moments where they came up for air before it started again. bringing her free hand she started to undo the buttons on his shirt, squeezing his hand with the one that was still tangled in his. @fcdcdmcmories

"OKAY. GOOD." eyes not leaving her either, because.. yes, he knew what she meant. was that what he was feeling too? honestly, he didn't know how to explain it. it felt as if he had started breathing again as soon as she had walked in and.. maybe, he didn't want to say it out loud because he was too scared too. HOW COULD HE? "if i didn't know any better, i'd say we were talking about a completely different person. the finn pederson? it's.. woah. whoever this person that he loves is.. i hope i get to shake their hand one day. sounds like they may be quite remarkable, if they made all of this HAPPEN when so many others have TRIED?" it was something else and normally, he wouldn't have believed it but he knew her. if there was something that she wouldn't lie about? it was ALL this.

"it's a cute look. i like it. BLUSH AND ALL," he liked it, he liked her - no, he loved her and even looking at the blush on her cheeks made him grin like an idiot. realising that.. yes, he wanted to be the reason behind all of those smiles. selfish? maybe, but.. "you know, sometimes i think that.. we're all too messed up to want anything that other people consider simple. normal. trust me, i tried. doing the whole dating someone else and going for the whole white picket fence life, but.. IT NEVER WORKED OUT. I GUESS I KNOW WHY NOT. I LIKE THE COMPLICATED A LITTLE TOO MUCH." that wasn't why. now, he knew why it hadn't worked out and why it never would, because his heart was with her. he was hers, whole body and heart and fucking soul and god, that was scary. "thank you," not realising that he was literally beaming. "it's never too late, is it? i mean if.. you wanna come over to have dinner and bring someone.. we'd love to have you guys. it'd be on the house, of course. SPECIAL PEOPLE DON'T PAY." did she? have someone? he hadn't considered that possibility until now and.. suddenly, he regretted saying what he had. no, he didn't want to see her come here with anyone else. he didn't want to see her with anyone else at all. "like the one you had back home? you always did like your fancy baths. i'm not surprised. SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE." nodding a little bit. "i did. i did miss you. i tried not to, but.. i always went right back there. i didn't know you were here or.. i would have.. i don't know.. reached out? said hi?" he was too terrified to do so and still was, but he thought that they'd always end up back here, one way or another. wouldn't they? "no, you don't, but.. that's part of why you're as loveable as you are," moving forward and placing a lock of hair behind her ear, in a gesture that was.. more tender than anything that he had done for anyone in a very long time. right?

"and it's really okay. to let other people in. you'll find that more often than not? they don't let you down." sometimes, they did and that was okay. it was part of life, wasn't it? "you know that you can tell me anything, right?" looking down at his hands for a moment there. "yeah, it's.. laney has them over with her. mostly. she lets them stay over here.. what, once every three weeks? and it's okay. really. she's the big time doctor, who's dating the new mayor and has the biggest hospital in town. she can give them more than i could ever and besides.. i owe her a lot. she leant me the money to pay for.. well, the restaurant. all of this. i'm still paying her back. SLOWLY." sadness passing through his face for a moment, because he did want his daughters to be here more but.. elaine could take care of them better than he could. he knew that. and besides, he owed her.. all of this. "FRODO CAN SHARE. BESIDES, HE MAY LIKE.. WINSTON, IS IT? you should bring him over sometime, if you'd like? we can take them for a walk. together. i mean.. them. if you'd like? only if you want to, it was.. huh, an idea." and who was blushing now? it was him and.. he found himself glancing upwards for a second. the words had been out before he could stop them.. right? "what? kramer? are you talking about kramer? he.. did he hurt you? afterwards? IF HE'S HERE? I SWEAR TO GOD, HE WON'T LAY A HAND ON YOU. I PROMISE. PSYCHOPATHS LIKE THAT SHOULDN'T BE ALLOWED TO WALK FREE." he was finding that.. it was kramer that he blamed for that night. for his friends, dead all over them. gabi. it was all him. he wrapped his arms around her tightly, almost not believing what he was seeing. the fact she was this scared? "IT'S OKAY. IT'S OKAY. YOU'RE SAFE, CEE. I'D NEVER LET ANYTHING BAD HAPPEN TO YOU." placing his hands on both sides of her face, shaking his head. "we won't ever be in that situation again and.. it's okay. i don't want you to feel guilty about anything. you did.. what you had to do. TO LIVE."

he had spent so long angry at her for it, but... it was the truth. wasn't it? and deep down, he would have always wanted her to be the one that survived. always. right? "i'm here. i am. it's me. i'm okay. nothing happened, i.. let me show you." he moved forward, deepening the kiss, as he wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. the elevator seemed to be frozen in place but right now, it didn't matter. all that mattered was her and in this moment - how could he have ever thought of loving anyone else? SHE WAS IT, SHE WAS IT FOR HIM AND MAYBE, THIS WAS FOOLISH, BUT.. IT WAS THE TRUTH. HE COULDN'T HELP HOW HE FELT. i still love you. just like i did back then. maybe even more. i don't think i could ever stop, no matter how complicated and messed up everything else is. she.. was crying? no, he didn't understand any of this. did he? it seemed as if she was still the cecilia he knew but so, so different and.. what was this? he could have pulled back when he felt her tears against his cheeks and yet, he didn't. he continued kissing her, pressing her against the wall, moving his one free hand to whip the tears away, keeping the other one in hers. TIME SEEMED TO HAVE FROZEN STILL AND RIGHT NOW? THIS WAS ALL THERE WAS. THE TWO OF THEM. THE WORLD? IT DIDN'T MATTER. / @xtinyslip

[shima-draws]

So my roommate is also into One Piece. I’m not sure if he’s watched any of the anime, I know for sure he’s watched the live action, but earlier tonight he came upstairs and watched a few episodes with me while waiting for a food delivery, and then he got hooked, and then he sat and watched MORE episodes with me without really knowing what was going on. But it was still wildly entertaining to him, esp since I’m right in the middle of one of the (arguably) best arcs rn, and now he wants to finish the arc with me LOL. NOBODY is immune to One Piece propaganda. Or Bon-chan 🥰

[tamagotchikgs]

i applied 2 literally everywhere i could find near me in a desperate attempt to get smthn n starbucks actually got back 2 me it is literally the only one , . do i work there

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

you’re pretty. real pretty.

anne-louise short-circuited. first, she froze, mouth hanging open slightly. then, the blush already on her face from her previous embarrassment deepened to a hot, scarlet red, and crawled up from her neck to the apples of her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears. a hesitant smile flickered over her face, almost as if she was glitching in real time. she never took compliments well. she’d hate to sound conceited, as she never thought of herself as pretty despite fitting into the conventional beauty standard, but she was used to drunk customers commenting on her appearance in a sometimes sweet, but usually crude way, or if they were trying to butter her up after she cut them off for the night. a part of her, deep within, was still that awkward girl in middle school, despite being halfway through her thirties. little annie-lou had suffered through her classmates calling her weird and ugly. she suffered through boys pretending to ask her out, just to laugh in her face when she said yes, or mean girls in school handing her a note that they said came from her crush of the month, but in reality said crush had no idea what she was talking about after approaching them and often got offended that the weird girl with two moms would dare to think they’d like her.

so, yes, she had some scars that had yet to fully heal. that left her sputtering when someone complimented her in any other capacity beyond ‘wow, your style is so cool and witchy!’ or ‘i love that stitchwork, can you show me how you did that?’ when it came to compliments on her looks, she had no idea what to say or do. but then they laughed! briefly, anne-louise bristled again. flashbacks of middle school trauma poisoned her mind and if he hadn’t explained himself just a second later, she might have burst into tears. “now i know you’re lying, because not a soul in this world thinks i could kick anyone’s ass.” anne-louise settled on a joke, though she wasn’t really kidding. “but, uh… thank you.” she finally accepted the compliment, deciding to trust that it wasn’t a prank. she couldn’t let the comment go without thanking them, at the very least. she was too polite for that.

“o–okay.” confused on why he wanted her to join him outside, anne-louise followed them anyway. it was a slow night, and she’d be able to see anyone coming in off the street through the window. on the weekdays, no one really came to o’shea’s unless they were regulars, so they’d know just to wait for her to come back in to take their drink. she hoped, at least. if someone came in and stole a bottle of liquor from behind the bar, she doubted she’d be able to escape a lecture from leon by invoking his uncle’s name. david, the former owner, would be pissed at her, too, if that happened; usually, he'd let her get away with murder, but not theft. that was the problem with anxiety—she ran through several different horrible scenarios in between the time it took to walk around the bar and head outside. she wrapped a strand of hair around her left index finger, using the other hand to daintily shake his own once they made it outside the building. “almost! it’s anne-louise.” an incredibly long name, it came from her moms being unable to pick between their respective choices for their daughter. in the end, they combined the two and cursed her with having to constantly spell it. “most people call me annie-lou, though.” or sometimes just annie, but never just lou. “nice to meet you, leo.” she tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of burning nicotine.

If Leo could declare they were knowledgeable in any category, he would be able to boast over his emotional intelligence. Though he tended to discredit his own feelings, snubbing his nose at them and waving them off without so much as a second glance, he could read others well. Most of the time - there were categories he would always be clueless in, merely because societal norms when it came to relationships still boggled his mind. But he could pick up on the little things, and a small grin appeared on his face as he watched Anne-Louise go through every emotion in the ‘surprised’ tier before finally settling on embarrassment. Which Leo didn’t really understand - embarrassment confounded him, and she had nothing to fuss over. Never when it came to him. It didn’t mean he wasn’t still endeared all the same, though, still leaning in close into her space, but properly taking in her features this time. They were pleasing, to say the least.

“You’re pretty. Real pretty.” He pressed, something as simplistic as pretty feeling improper, but it was his usual go to. Despite what someone might perceive about Leo, descriptors like beautiful and sexy always made him want to roll his eyes. They felt like if a word could be a try hard - the compliment was always real when he said pretty. It felt like the most truthful word that didn’t need to be dressed up. It just was. And she was pretty. Realising he’d sounded a bit surprised, like he’d originally expected an ogre as he came closer, Leo let out a sudden snort of laughter, stumbling to explain himself. “I sounded like an asshole. I just meant - when you blushed, it was kinda adorable. Don’t kick my ass, you look like you’d kick my ass if I said the wrong thing. It’s meant to be a compliment, I swear.”

It didn’t shock him that she didn’t smoke, but he was pleasantly surprised when she took up his offer to join him. He half expected to be shooed off by now, like a mosquito that wouldn’t stop droning in your ear, but if she was going to continue entertaining him, Leo wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Course I want you to join me.” He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Eagerly waiting for her to come around the bar top, opening the door and everything as they stepped outside - though he had the temperament of the Tasmanian Devil, Leo still thought himself a gentleman. Occasionally. “Don’t kill me,” Because all the best sentences started that way, “but… Annie? Anna? I know I’ve heard it before - wait, don’t tell me! It’s Annie, final answer.” In his excitement, Leo’s accent drawled out, thick as molasses. “Leo,” he introduced next, shoving his lighter into his pocket after igniting a cigarette, and holding his hand out for her to shake. “Enchante.”

[autisticlee]

"me and the bad bitch I pulled by being autistic" meme, but it's just me holding my own hand because everyone I encounter in my life ends up hating me because i'm autistic, so I only have myself

[pinkyjulien]

.

[constantvariations]

As much as I enjoy Neo, I think she was the wrong villain to drop into Wonderland with the squad. Her conflict with Ruby doesn't thematically lend itself to the current arc of self-doubt and weight of responsibility (plus any resolution of Neo's revenge arc will probably end up with her dead since the writers have no idea what to do with her)

Even if Neo calmed down long enough to somehow communicate her grievance of losing Roman, nothing would really come of it. He was an enemy who died in front of Ruby, not because of her. His death is a footnote at best considering two of her friends died in front of her within like, an hour. So, if Ruby tells the truth of Roman's demise, then there's only two outcomes. Neo either thinks she's lying (which would be dumb. There's literally nothing to gain from it) and keeps attacking her until one of them is dead/left behind in Wonderland or Neo believes her and...???

(Seriously where can Neo go after this conflict is resolved? She doesn't care about Salem's cause, there's no one who cares about her, and she probably can't return to her previous life of crime since she was based in Vale. Neo's entire existence revolves around Roman; take that away and you have even less than a ghost)

You know who would be able to excel in a chaotic world and take advantage of Ruby's mental instability? Tyrian

This guy is able to bypass the barriers that keep someone safe, both literally with his ignore-aura seblance and metaphorically. When the writers aren't playing up the "woohoo wacky crazy psycho" schtick, which gets real old real fast, Tyrian is one of the most adept psych-analysts in the entire show. This guy read Mercury and Emerald like the morning newspaper even though they kept their distance from everyone but Cinder

In her current state, Tyrian could pick Ruby apart petal by petal until not even a bud remains. Or better yet, try getting her to align with Salem

"It's so sad, isn't it? You put in all that work, did all that planning, and Atlas still fell. The relic lost. Your friend died.

"I know you did your best. But it wasn't good enough. You weren't good enough.

"Such a big burden placed on such young shoulders isn't right. You tried so hard to save everyone, but no one has ever tried to save you, have they? Everyone has failed you. Ozpin, Ironwood, Qrow, even your friends down here. Too wrapped up in themselves to notice your struggles.

"But you don't have to do it anymore, Ruby. No more fighting, no more betrayal, no more dying. All you have to do is help Mistress get two itty bitty relics, and it will all be over.

"After all, you didn't ask for this."