#I'm a little out of it this week but I couldn't help but think that Copperhead would claim his next kill like this to draw attention away -

[nonotnolan]

No Regrets

My roommate's body keeps looking at me like I'm supposed to be making the first move. It was weird enough when my roommate and his girlfriend swapped bodies for the weekend, but the unspoken tension was starting to become unbearable. "Seriously, Tiffany, you're starting to creep me out. Don't you and Daniel have plans for tonight?"

She just smiled at me. "No plans. I'm still deciding how I want to spend my evening. Daniel, though... he's taking my body out clubbing tonight. He wants to see how many free drinks he can score, and I think he's also planning to get laid." Gross. I knew better than to say anything out loud, but my face must have given me away. "Don't be such a prude, Jeff. You know we have an open relationship."

I tugged at my collar. "I know, Tiff, I'm sorry. I just... body swaps that cross the gender line still make me uncomfortable. It feels wrong, somehow. And, I mean, technically they are illegal."

"Oh please, get over yourself," she said, tossing herself onto his bed. "Swaps over 12 hours are also illegal, but that didn't stop you from hiring someone to take your Calc exam two weeks ago. You need to learn how to relax. Not everything you were told on Sundays is true, you know. Some things aren't actually all that bad. You're only clutching your pearls because society told you that swapping genders was bad. What harm is there, as long as both people consent?"

I wanted to argue, but I knew Tiffany was absolutely correct. There wasn't anything wrong with the two of them swapping bodies outside of society telling us that men and women could only swap with other men and other women. Which... given the way that their open relationship also defied societal expectations, I suppose it wasn't too much of a surprise that the two of them thought so little about swapping like this. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I... I'm trying, really. You've heard how conservative my childhood was. It's a lot to unlearn."

"Well, maybe it's time to start unlearning," she said, beckoning me closer. "You want to know the real reason I'm still here? It's because of you, stud. I'm here to see you." Did Tiffany just call me a stud? She had to be mocking me, but I could feel myself blushing all the same.

Tiffany started to unbutton my shirt, brushing her fingers along my exposed chest as she did so. I could feel myself growing erect. Were we... were we really doing this? They were in an open relationship, after all, it wasn't like he was helping Tiffany cheat on his roommate. With his roommate? God, Swappers made things confusing.

"I've seen the way you look at Daniel," she said, rubbing a hand across the stubble on my chin. "I love the man, but he's too straight and too clueless to pick up on those stares. And honestly, I can't help but think that you're too sheltered to realize you're even doing it half the time."

"I... thought I was hiding it better," I said, trying to steady my emotions. Her fingers started to tease my nipples, leaving me squirming with raw pleasure. "I still don't know if I'm bisexual, or gay, or just... Mormon. But I didn't think it mattered. He's already in a relationship with you. What I want isn't important."

"He's in an open relationship," she said, staring at me like I was a hunk of meat to be devoured. "He's also not here right now. I'm in control of this body right now, and I want to fuck you senseless. If that's what you want too, well..." Tiffany slipped her hand inside my waistband, giving my manhood a firm squeeze that had me gasping for breath. "Tonight's a perfect night to let loose. No regrets."

I couldn't hold back anymore. I leaned in for a quick kiss, which Tiffany returned with tongue. The two of us stripped down as fast as we could, though I made certain not to let her pull me onto the bed with her. "Not on Daniel's bed," I said, dragging her over to my part of the bedroom. "His sheets reek of frat boy sweat, and I doubt he has any lube."

"I, uhh... you're alright with being on top, right?" I asked, as I handed her the bottle of lube from my nightstand. It occurred to me that we hadn't actually talked through any plans, set boundaries, or anything like that. "The way you phrased it, I'm assuming that's what you meant, I just--"

"Stop. Thinking." Seeing Daniel's face looming over me, with a look of pure lust on his face, it was everything I never knew I needed. I started rolling over onto my knees before she yelled at me. "Not like that, stay on your back. I want to see your face as I fuck you senseless."

Tiffany spent the entire time telling me exactly what to do, and it was everything I could have ever wanted. She got me lubed, eased me onto her massive manhood, and railed me like there was no tomorrow. My chest was coated in strands of my own cum, while Daniel's cum slowly leaked out of my ass. I'd never had a no-hands orgasm before, but holy hell I could not believe how amazing that felt.

"I can't believe we just did that," I said, trying to catch my breath. She responded by scooping up some of the jizz off of my torso and putting it into her mouth. She was making an entire production out of licking it off of her finger, and I could feel myself getting hard again. "So, uhh... you... you'll be in Daniel's body for the entire evening?"

"If that's your way of asking me if I'd like to fuck you again? The answer is yes," she said, giving me a wink. "Even better, we might be able to make this a weekly thing," she added, standing up to grab some towels. "I don't think I'll have to fight too hard to convince Daniel to swap. What sort of straight man doesn't enjoy having boobs?"

God, I was falling for her so hard. What had I gotten myself into? Life was going to be a long, awkward hell once my roommate was back in his own body. And yet... I had to admit, I had no regrets.

[moonlitenvyillust]

Hey TeleNeo fans, want some pain? No? Too bad here you go

Tags: men crying (why would that be a warning tbh), angst (or at least a try out of writing angst), love letters but the sender is dead, major character death, Telemachus is mentioned but is the sender, EURYCLEA MY QUEEN, Neo cries <3, don't you love making character's suffer, ancient Greek gays, TELENEO CLUB HAS FOUR/FIVE MEMBERS ISTG-, deprived of content. So I'll write it!, me being a tired bitch, based on: "to my dear Historia" With too many alterations.

•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙|-π-|⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

And so the letter ends.

The second he heard of the great Odysseus's return, he felt a pang of relief for Telemachus. His beloved finally got the one thing he had dreamed of for his entire life. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous... He never got such reunion with his own father. The great Achilles had died and that was why he was drafted to war.

He immediately set sail to Ithaca as he heard the news. He finished his little quest and immediately jumped onto a ship. His little mind could not comprehend how much he missed the island, but more over, how much he missed his Telemachus

Walking down from the ship to the docs, he was just about to go to the palace when-

"Excuse me, Lord Neoptolemus?"

That voice... Neo remembered her, that's Telemachus's nurse maid, Euryclea.

"It's so hard to try and find you, here, a favor from the prince"

She handed him a letter, albeit an not so old not so new looking one. Atleast a few weeks old. A stain is seen on the edge... Coffee? No, that's the colour of Telemachus's meds when it dries on white.

And the letter wrote...

"To my dear, Phyrrus

As I write this, my health is severely declining. I wished to give this letter to you directly–hell, maybe even say the words I wish to say. But my voice has been lost through my last fight with a suitor. He hit me hard enough, I think I broke my vocal chords. However I of course had asked Euryclea for her word, to give this to you during your next visit. I know for a fact you are a busy man, multiple quests given to you at a time. Henceforth I didn't send this letter, I didn't want to worry you and give you an unsafe return.

That said, I want to be selfish. Just for once. I swear it. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner. But even before the suitors plagues my life, I had been dying. In a literal sense.

My body is weaker than an average man and it's not only because of the fact I am untrained, but it's because of severe health disorders... Yes I have been training under Athena, but that doesn't mean my chronic pain just Dissapears. It gets worse, actually. But I can deal with it. Usually

I have realized that my time is no longer than at least a few weeks when this letter is wrote. The headaches had been more frequent, I fall over with leg pains more often, and it just overall shows a sign that my name is in the "to reap" Soul list of Thanatos.

I love you, more than how I would love a friend. But not able to be as a lover, for you deserve someone better. Someone stronger. Someone... Your height of glory. But I shall let myself be selfish for my last few days. I love you.

I ask for my body to only be burnt when you made an appearance. I know it's so much to ask. But words spread fast and you run faster.

So, if I die before you return... Consider this as my goodbye."

It had been a while since the last time Phyrrus cried

But just this once

He let himself weep

•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙|-π-|⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

I had a vague idea for this after watching a "to my dear Historia" Edit, so have this. Share my pain.

@ list because I know who would like this stuff @cutob @no1teleneoshipper @lenamiyabi @lemonade-tree7 here you go. We are deprived of content tbh. Have angst, almost forgot @kindred-spirit-93

[jadebat7]

"anyway, don't be a stranger"

childhood friend!iwaizumi x reader

summary: saying goodbye is so hard. especially when it's your best friend.

The air was crisp. Cold. Even for the late summer, it was chilly. You helped Iwaizumi pack his bags into your small car, it was pretty easy considering he only had a few.

You looked at him across the hood of the car as he thought how to fit in a few more things. He looked up at you, making eye contact.

"What?"

"Nothing." You smiled.

He shook his head, closing the car door and coming to stand next to you.

"That should be it, I think"

You nodded, "So... It's really happening? Our Iwa's going to college in the big USA?"

He rolled his eyes, hooking an arm around your shoulder. You both looked at the sky, the sun slowly starting to descend from the sky. You leaned against his shoulder.

"I'm gonna miss you."

"... I'm gonna miss you too"

You looked at him from his shoulder, "I can't believe you and Oikawa are moving at the same time, leaving little old me here alone"

He laughed softly, "We're always a call away, y'know"

"Yeah.. 's not the same though"

"... I know"

You sat in silence for a few more moments, enjoying the quiet together. A few kids went by on their bikes, chasing after each other. One rang the bell on her bike as she tried to keep up with the other boys.

You smiled, biting the inside of your cheek. It reminded you of when you and Iwa were kids. Staying out on the streets late to play games. Chasing eachother around the yard. All that kid stuff.

You wiped a stray tear from your face, "Well... Ready to go?"

He nodded, not acknowledging the lone tear. You both climbed into the car and you drove to airport in silence. Comfortable silence, of course. It was never awkward with him.

Eventually, you were at the airport. You helped him unload his bags.

"I'm gonna be back, you know."

"I know."

"I'll call you every night"

"No you're not" You grinned, knowing he wasn't a fan of calls.

"You're right. Once a week."

You nodded, "Deal"

You stood there looking at him for a beat before he sighed, "I should probably..."

"Right, right-" You frowned, pulling him into a small hug.

"Don't have too much fun"

He laughed, "I won't-"

You pulled away, a lump forming in your throat that you couldn't fight. You said one last sad goodbye before watching him walk away, into the airport.

You sighed, wiping away your tears and turning to walk back to your car. You clung to yourself as you felt your patience slip.

"Y/n!" Wait!" You turned, hearing your name.

Soon enough you were engulfed by his arms. He hugged you so tight you thought your head might pop off.

You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, unable to stop the flow of tears.

"I love you, y/n- It's so hard saying goodbye- You know I hate this mushy stuff, but-"

"I love you too, douchebag"

He smiled, somehow pulling you closer.

"I swear, I'll visit all the time"

"You better."

He smiled, pulling away and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Don't get into trouble while I'm gone"

"Oh my God I wont," You laughed, wiping away your tears.

He smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. He looked at his watch, "Okay- I really do have to go-"

"Alright"

The silence filled for another few moments,

"Anyway, uhm... Don't be a stranger, really."

He smiled, "Of course."

And he was gone. Walking back to the airport and you walking back to your car. You sat there and watched his plane take off, taking him away from you.

You drove home, a piece of you now on the way to California. That night, you slept with the teddy bear he got you for your birthday when you were 8, wearing the shirt he gave to you a week ago when you got stuck in the rain.

a/n; this is so shitty I know but I listened to Scott Street one too many times so here you go and lowkey kind of want to write this but with iwa and oikawa bc yes

[mrs-delaney]

Hide | An Unexpected Invitation | Chapter Two

Summary: Riley Carter never expected much from a simple text asking if she liked food, but Joe Burrow's direct approach catches her off guard in the best way. Between late nights at Electric Lady Studios finishing her band's new album and her growing anticipation for their first real date, Riley finds herself drawn to the NFL quarterback's refreshing authenticity. After a messy public breakup left her wary of relationships, especially with someone in the spotlight, she's surprised by her willingness to break her own rules for Joe. As their text exchanges and late-night calls deepen their connection, Riley faces a decision: maintain the careful distance she's built around her heart, or take a chance on someone new.

Pairings: Joe Burrow x Riley Carter (OC)

Word Count: 3.2k

Requested: No | Yes

Warnings: Mild language, flirty banter, mentions of past toxic relationships, public scrutiny, and undeniable chemistry.

This story is ONLY posted on Wattpad and Tumblr under miss_delaney. If you see it anywhere else, it has been stolen. Do NOT copy, repost, translate, or distribute my work on any other platform. Please respect my writing.

Want to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or message me! 💕

Requests: Open

Author’s Note: Here we go! Sorry its late. This chapter is all about setting the foundation for Joe and Riley’s dynamic—playful, unexpected, and just a little bit risky. I love writing those early moments where two people click without fully realizing what they’re getting into. Their chemistry is building, and things are definitely about to get interesting. Let me know what you think! 😊💛

Riley stared at her phone, thumb hovering over the screen as she read Joe's message again.

Joe QB🏈: Do you like food?

A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. Was this his idea of a smooth opener? It was so direct, so oddly simple, that she couldn't help but find it endearing. She'd had guys slide into her DMs with carefully crafted messages, obviously rehearsed lines, and pretentious attempts at intellectual conversation. But "Do you like food?" That was new.

She tapped out a response, deliberately matching his directness with a hint of playfulness.

Riley 🎤: Yes, QB. I like food. Love it, actually. I'm always down for a nice meal.

She hit send and set her phone down on the kitchen counter of her rented NYC apartment, turning her attention back to the coffee brewing in front of her. The rich aroma filled the small space, mingling with the distant wail of sirens and the perpetual hum of the city that filtered through her half-open window. She was only in the city for another week—just long enough to finish the studio sessions for her band's new album before heading back to LA for meetings with their label. She wasn't expecting a quick response—the guy probably had a rigorous schedule with his sponsor events and appearances while he was in town. But barely thirty seconds later, her phone buzzed.

Joe QB🏈: Alright then, wanna come over Friday night? I'll cook you dinner.

Riley nearly choked on her coffee. Well, that was unexpected. Not the invitation itself—she'd had plenty of those—but the casual confidence behind it. No "maybe we could" or "if you're free sometime." Just a straightforward invitation to his place, with the added detail that he'd be cooking. It struck her as both presumptuous and refreshing.

She hesitated, finger hovering over the keyboard. The sensible response would be to suggest a restaurant instead—something public, neutral, safe. That's what her publicist would advise. Hell, that's what she would advise any of her friends. Never go to a guy's place for a first date.

But then again, this wasn't exactly a normal situation. They'd already met on national television. He'd already admitted to having a crush on her in front of millions of viewers. And something about his straightforward approach intrigued her.

Riley 🎤: You're telling me Joe Burrow can cook?

His reply came almost instantly.

Joe QB🏈: Don't sound so surprised. I can follow a recipe.

She grinned, shaking her head at his confidence.

Riley 🎤: Guess we'll see if they're as good as your QB skills.

Setting down her phone, Riley leaned against the kitchen counter and took another sip of her coffee, a strange flutter of anticipation settling in her stomach. She'd just agreed to a date—was it a date?—with Joe Burrow. The same Joe Burrow who'd turned bright red on The Tonight Show when she'd walked out. The same Joe Burrow who'd kissed her cheek and asked for her number with that endearing mix of confidence and nervousness.

It had only been a few days since The Tonight Show, but Riley's life already felt a little... different. Not dramatically so—she was still working with her bandmates on their new album, still navigating the busy recording schedule, still trying to make the most of their limited time in NYC. But there was something new weaving its way through the familiar rhythms of her life: the constant presence of Joe Burrow in her text messages.

She wasn't sure what had possessed her to say yes to his casual "I'll cook you dinner" text, but here she was, letting him monopolize her phone in the best way possible. What started as a simple exchange about food turned into hours of texting—playful, funny, and way too easy.

Each notification from him sent a little jolt of anticipation through her system—a feeling she hadn't experienced in years. Maybe it was the novelty of it all. Or maybe it was just him.

She liked his sense of humor. It wasn't forced or over the top; it was subtle, the kind of humor that made her laugh without even realizing she was smiling. And he paid attention. He actually asked her questions, remembered things she'd told him, and sent follow-up texts that felt genuine rather than perfunctory.

Like yesterday, when she'd mentioned in passing that she was trying to cut back on caffeine, and twelve hours later, he'd texted to ask how the caffeine withdrawal was going. It was such a small thing, but so few people actually listened to the details.

Joe Burrow was nothing like she'd expected.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected. Most athletes she'd encountered at industry events or award shows had come across as cocky—all swagger and practiced charm, their public personas polished to a shine. But Joe seemed different. He texted like a normal person—sometimes with perfect grammar, sometimes with abbreviations, occasionally with a meme that made no sense out of context but somehow made her laugh anyway.

There was something steady about him that settled her, a calm confidence that never veered into arrogance. In an industry where she was constantly surrounded by big personalities and bigger egos, his groundedness felt like stepping into a quiet room after hours in a crowded club.

And maybe that was why she didn't slam on the brakes like she normally would have. Why she was willing to consider having dinner at his place rather than insisting on a public restaurant with an escape route.

With a sigh, Riley set her empty coffee mug in the sink and headed to the studio. She had work to do, and she couldn't spend the entire morning analyzing text messages like a teenager. But as she settled in front of her keyboard, her phone buzzed again.

Joe QB🏈: What are you up to tonight?

She smiled, typing back quickly.

Riley 🎤: At Electric Lady. Long night ahead.

The response was immediate.

Joe QB🏈: What's Electric Lady?

Riley stared at the screen, momentarily taken aback. Was he serious? Electric Lady was legendary—practically hallowed ground for musicians. But then again, not everyone lived in her world, did they?

Riley 🎤: You're kidding.

Joe QB🏈: I'm not.

She shook her head, smiling despite herself. There was something endearing about his willingness to admit he didn't know something.

Riley 🎤: It's only one of the most iconic recording studios in NYC. Hendrix built it. Bowie recorded there. Springsteen, Patti Smith, The Clash... Do I need to keep going?

Joe QB🏈: Alright, alright. I get it. Sounds cool.

Riley snorted. "Sounds cool." As if she'd mentioned a trendy new coffee shop rather than one of the most significant musical landmarks in the city.

Riley 🎤: Cool doesn't even begin to cover it. It's my happy place when I'm in the city. Something about the history in those walls... it's like you can feel it when you're creating there.

There was a pause before his next message—longer than his previous replies had been.

Joe QB🏈: You sound like you're working late a lot this week.

The observation surprised her. Most people—especially people she'd just met—didn't notice or comment on her schedule unless she explicitly mentioned being tired or busy.

Riley 🎤: Yes, we are on a roll. We're finishing the bridge on this new track that's giving us hell. It's either going to be the best thing on the album or drive us all insane before we get it right.

She set her phone down, turning her attention to the keyboard in front of her. Her fingers drifted across the keys, finding the melody that had been haunting her for days—an insistent, driving sequence that contrasted with the vulnerability of the lyrics she'd been working on. It was the kind of song that would have their fans holding up lighters at shows, a perfect arena anthem with just enough raw emotion to make it personal.

But her mind kept drifting back to their conversation. To the way he actually seemed to care about what she was doing, not just when she'd be free to see him.

The rest of the week followed a similar pattern. When she wasn't at Electric Lady, she was either catching up on sleep or texting Joe. It was quickly becoming her favorite way to wind down after her long nights in the studio.

In the back of a sleek black Escalade, Manhattan's lights refracting through rain-streaked windows, her phone lit up with his name. Not a text this time—a call. She hesitated for only a second before answering.

"Isn't it past your bedtime, Burrow?" she teased, leaning back against the leather seat.

A low chuckle filled her ear. "Probably. But I figured you'd still be up."

"Good guess," she replied, watching the city lights blur past her window. "Just heading back to my place from the studio."

"How's the mysterious project going?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

This was what continued to surprise her about Joe. He was curious about her work, and unlike other people who would ask about her career out of politeness, Joe actually seemed interested in the details. It threw her off at first. She wasn't used to someone wanting to know her, not just the version of her that showed up on red carpets and album covers.

"It's going well," she said, more openly than she might have with someone else. "Today was mostly vocal tracking—the less glamorous part where I sing the same line fifty times until it's perfect."

"Sounds exhausting," Joe commented.

"It can be. But there's something satisfying about getting it exactly right. The guys are patient, though. Andy, our drummer, is practically a saint when it comes to vocal sessions. Nick keeps us laughing even when we're ready to kill each other over a single note."

"I get that," he said, and she could hear the understanding in his voice. "It's like when we run the same play over and over in practice. Looks boring from the outside, but there's something about the repetition, the precision..."

"Exactly," Riley said, surprised by how well he seemed to understand. "Different fields, same principle. The pursuit of that perfect execution where everything just clicks."

There was a comfortable pause before Joe spoke again. "So, we still on for tomorrow? Or are you going to be too wiped from your late nights?"

She smiled into the darkness of the car. "I'll be there. Seven o'clock, right?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I've already started prepping some things."

"Wow, taking this seriously, huh?" she teased.

"Can't have America's dream girl thinking I can't cook, can I?"

Riley groaned at the reference to the media nickname that had stuck after their Tonight Show appearance. "Please don't call me that."

Joe laughed, the sound warm and rich through the phone. "Sorry. Couldn't resist."

"Uh-huh. I'm hanging up now," she said, though there was no bite to her words.

"Goodnight, Riley," he said, his voice softening.

"Goodnight, Joe," she replied, ending the call with a smile lingering on her lips.

The car pulled up to her building, rain now falling in earnest. As she dashed inside, nodding to the night doorman, she realized she was actually looking forward to tomorrow night in a way she hadn't anticipated. There was something about Joe's direct approach, his genuine interest, his unexpected moments of vulnerability that made her want to know more.

Their calls had quickly developed a rhythm of their own. Late at night, her phone would light up just as she was finishing at the studio.

Their conversations rarely lasted more than ten minutes, but she found herself looking forward to them—this small, consistent connection across the miles between their separate worlds.

But as much as she was enjoying their easy back-and-forth, a part of her couldn't help but hesitate. A part of her kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the easy conversations to turn complicated, for the red flags to appear, for the inevitable letdown.

Her last relationship had left scars she hadn't realized were still there. Her ex—another musician, a guitarist whose talent was matched only by his volatility—had been part of her life for far too long. They'd spent years in an on-again, off-again cycle that was as exhausting as it was destructive. The kind of relationship that burned so hot it left everything around it in ashes, including the early days of her band when they were just starting to gain traction.

The breakup had been messy, the kind that made headlines and left her name plastered all over the tabloids. Paparazzi outside her house, speculative articles about who had cheated on whom, invasive questions in interviews that were supposed to be about her band's music. Her personal life dissected on social media by people who knew nothing about the actual relationship.

She still remembered the sting of the public fallout. The embarrassment. The frustration of people weighing in on something they knew nothing about. The way strangers felt entitled to judge her decisions, her emotions, her life.

After finally walking away for good, she'd sworn off relationships entirely. Not just publicly, but privately as well. She'd made a promise to herself: no more losing herself in someone else's orbit, no more putting her needs second, no more drama that derailed her creative focus.

She'd thrown herself into her career, traveled the world alone, and learned how to be happy without needing someone else to fill the gaps. And for the most part, it had worked. She'd become someone she was proud of, someone she didn't think she could've been if she hadn't taken time for herself.

The band's latest album—the one that had catapulted them from indie darlings to mainstream recognition—had emerged from that period of self-discovery. Their sound had evolved into something more powerfully honest, with electric guitar-driven anthems balanced by moments of intimate vulnerability. Critics had praised their ability to blend raw emotional lyrics with radio-ready hooks, and fans had responded to that authenticity in droves.

She still remembered the moment they realized things had changed for good—a sold-out show in London where the entire crowd sang their lyrics back to them so loudly that she'd had to step away from the mic, overwhelmed by the wall of sound. The guys had looked at her with the same stunned expression, all of them realizing simultaneously that they'd crossed some invisible threshold.

After a year of being single, Riley had found a comfortable rhythm in her independence. She'd learned what she actually wanted: someone who would respect her work while still making her feel cherished. Someone who understood her world without trying to dominate it. Despite the walls she'd built during her recovery from that toxic relationship, she was ready to open herself up again—just cautiously, and on her own terms.

So when Joe Burrow appeared with his straightforward texts and genuine interest, she found herself intrigued in a way she hadn't expected. There was something refreshing about his approach, something that made her curious enough to say yes to dinner at his place despite all her usual rules.

The truth was, she wasn't sure she was ready for anything serious, especially given their careers and geographical distance. But for the first time in a long while, she was willing to at least explore the possibility.

Friday morning arrived with unexpected anxiety. Riley found herself second-guessing her decision to go to Joe's place, wondering if she should text to suggest a restaurant instead. But before she could overthink it further, her phone rang.

Riley was still in bed when her phone buzzed, Joe's name lighting up the screen. She groaned softly, pulling the blanket over her head before answering.

"Hello?" Her voice was still husky with sleep.

"Morning, Riley," Joe said, his voice light and teasing. "Just checking to make sure we're still on for tonight."

She rolled onto her back, blinking up at the ceiling as she smirked. "Why are you calling me so early, Burrow? Don't you know I like to sleep late?"

"Early?" Joe laughed, and she could practically hear the grin in his voice. "It's eleven."

"Exactly. Early," she quipped, running a hand through her tangled hair. "I told you I like to sleep late, especially after a long night at the studio."

Joe chuckled on the other end of the line, the sound warm and relaxed. "Guess I'll have to keep that in mind. But I needed to make sure you weren't backing out on me."

There was something in his tone—a hint of vulnerability beneath the confident teasing—that made her heart soften a little. As if despite all his self-assurance, he genuinely wasn't sure she'd show up. It was those glimpses of real person behind the quarterback that kept drawing her in.

She rolled onto her side, smiling to herself. "Not a chance. I'm looking forward to tonight."

Joe's voice was playful when he responded. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she admitted easily, surprising herself with her own honesty. "You say you're cooking a meal for me. That's really sweet. I can't wait to see what you come up with."

"Just a heads-up to manage your expectations," Joe said, a touch of self-deprecation in his voice that she found oddly charming. "We're not talking culinary genius here."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. What time do you want me there?" Riley asked, sitting up and pushing the blankets aside. Sunlight streamed through the gap in her curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing in the still air.

"Seven," he said without hesitation, as if he'd had the time planned all along.

"Perfect," she said, already mentally planning what she was going to wear. Something casual but flattering. Something that said "I made an effort" without screaming "I spent three hours getting ready for you."

She had a busy day ahead—a final vocal session, then a meeting with their manager about the upcoming tour schedule. The album wouldn't be out for months, but they needed to lock in venues for the fall tour now. Eleven cities in fourteen days, starting on the East Coast and working their way west. The thought of the grueling schedule would normally make her anxious, but today it seemed manageable. A problem for future Riley.

There was a brief pause before he added, his voice warm with amusement, "Do I need to send you a calendar invite so you don't forget?"

Riley laughed, the sound more carefree than she'd felt in a while. "I'll be there, Burrow. Don't worry—I wouldn't miss this."

Joe chuckled. "Good. I'll see you tonight then."

"See you tonight," she echoed, ending the call and dropping her phone onto the mattress beside her.

She exhaled, staring at the ceiling for a moment, a strange mix of anticipation and nerves swirling in her stomach. This wasn't just some guy she'd matched with on a dating app. This was Joe Burrow. NFL quarterback. Someone who lived as much in the public eye as she did, whose career came with its own unique pressures and scrutiny. Someone who seemed like he might actually understand her world in a way few others could.

But more than that, this was someone who made her laugh, who paid attention, who showed genuine interest in her life beyond the glamorous surface. Someone who didn't seem intimidated by her success or intent on competing with it.

A slow smile tugged at her lips as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She had a date to prepare for.

Yeah. She was definitely looking forward to this.

[maybequinnidk]

I'm Good At Loving You (You're Good At Loving Me) pt. 2

part 1

(hurt/comfort i think. feedback is appreciated, i'm new to this)

Kara notices after that conversation at the Tower three weeks ago something started to change.

Lena stays over almost everyday, and they develop a domestic routine: sometimes they're lucky enough to spend some more minutes in bed before properly starting the day, just enjoying the other's company. Then they eat breakfast, wash the dishes, sweep the floor, take out the trash. After that they shower and get ready for the rest of their day. They have a late lunch with their team and go back to their respective tasks. By the time she goes back home Lena is usually there, if they didn't go together.

Kara's favorite part is the relief of coming home and finding Lena making dinner, or reading a book on the couch, or coming out of the shower, or- Kara's favorite part is Lena. And today she's...

Not here.

As if today wasn't awful enough already.

She came in through the window and falteringly made her way to the kitchen, leaning over the countertop.

She finds a note on top of it in Lena's handwriting "forgot my phone at the lab, portal watch is still broken :/ BRB "

Not even five minutes later her partner arrives. She barely opens the door and Kara envelopes her in a hug. Lena is quick to reciprocate despite the suddenness.

"Oh. Hi. I came back as fast as I could, are you okay?"

Today was a hectic day. She had to leave early in the morning and missed breakfast, the villain of the week was turning into villain of the month, she'd been running on nothing but a sandwich, a bag of chips and yellow star radiation for the past 12 hours, and to top it all off she solar flared. She used the last bit of her powers to fly home. She didn't break anything and didn't get sick, but still, everything hurts.

She shakes her head.

"Oh, darling. Let's go inside and talk about it?"

Kara doesn't want to talk though. She squeezes Lena tighter. She can do that now.

"Or we could go inside and not talk about it?" Lena knows her so well. "How about we get you out of this suit, and you take a nap while I worry about dinner. Does that sound good, honey?"

Lena knows her so well.

She loves Lena calling her "darling", but "honey" is on another level.

It's for when she's grieving Krypton, her family, her friends, her culture. For when she can't get out of bed after waking up five seperate times in the same night because the memories that come back as nightmares wouldn't give her a break. For when she couldn't save everyone from a fire or earthquake or alien attack. For when she's not even able to process and explain what's happening.

It's been a while since she needed it.

She nods.

She has no idea what time it is when she wakes up, all she knows is that it's cold, Lena is stroking her hair and the softness of her voice can be compared to the one of her hoodie and sweatpants.

"How are you? Did you sleep well, honey?"

Kara yawns and stretches. She does feel a little bit better so she nods.

She does remember what Lena said during dinner. "I talked to Alex and J'onn and they agreed that we all need a break, so Nia suggested a game night sometime soon."

The night's events blur together. She doesn't know if it's because of her exhaustion or the fact that this has happened so many times before — it's mundane, eating with Lena after a hard day.

She also remembers when she was able to voice her thoughts for the first time since she got home.

She had just gone to bed, her face buried in the pillow, as Lena was petting her hair.

"Honey, are you feeling better?"

She nods and turns to her left so she can see Lena. "Thank you for this."

"I'm glad I was able to help."

"You always are."

Kara grabs Lena's other hand and brings it to her lips, peppering her with kisses, maintaining eye contact. She wants to be closer, though.

Lena reads her mind again. She lifts up the blanket as an invitation to get closer, which Kara accepts.

Kara settles her body between Lena's legs and rests her head on her chest. Featherlight fingers caressing her back, the subtle rise and fall of Lena's breathing. It's grounding.

"I love you." she breaks the silence.

> > > × < < <

Kara has said that a lot in the past couple of weeks. Mostly when they're in private, or when she's about to go on field.

She had been so anxious about this. Terrified to trust that Kara wasn't manipulating nor leaving her.

But seeing the way Kara looks at her – like the first time they woke up together, or shared clothes; with an unmistakable fondness in her eyes, a light blush on her face and a smile on her lips – she knows she means it.

Most of the time, Lena responds with physical affection, a soft "I know", a concerned "stay safe", an "ily" text; sometimes she didn't respond at all, still not completely used to it. This is not any of those times.

"I love you too." She barely thinks about it, it's always on her mind. Such a frequent thought it became an easy action. Natural. Familiar. Known.

"I know, baby." Kara plays with the collar of Lena's shirt, traces her neck and jaw.

She never liked being called "baby" by her exes. It was uncomfortable, infantilizing and just felt wrong.

There was only one person who made it tolerable: Jack. But even then he didn't use it all the time. He preferred "darling" and so did she.

The first time Kara used that pet name, it came as a suprise that it didn't bother her. It was two, maybe three weeks into this new aspect of their relationship.

"You're so wonderful, baby, so stunning." Kara could probably listen to her pulse rushing and see her face flushing which only made her blush even more.

In the past she would have said something like "I know you're trying to be cute but I really don't like that word", instead she said nothing because her brain had given up on her.

The reason she likes it so much now is probably because it's always accompanied with compliments and reassurance.

"I'm so proud of you." proud. Lena lets out a short laugh and smiles shyly.

"Darling, you're doing it again..."

"Doing what?"

"Comforting me when you're the one who needs it."

"I told you." she finds a way to get even closer, kisses her cheek and says "It helps."

Although she doesn't fully understands how that works, she does see how it affects Kara when she starts to relax.

> > > × < < <

She eventually falls asleep.

With Lena's hearbeat at the perfect volume on her ears; audible but not overwhelmingly loud.

The words "I love you too" echoing in her mind; can words be addictive?

The hope that tomorrow won't be worse than today; may Rao help her.

She eventually falls asleep.

[spacegyaru]

cw: very toxic shidou! also, i'm having a baby fever rn after meeting my bf's nieces sooo. also, they're both 23 here!

toxic! shidou ryusei is the type to make you beg no matter what the circumstances are. whether it's in and out of the bed, if he has the chance to be a menace, he totally would be.

you remember staring back at the two lines that your pregnancy test kits left three weeks after officially breaking up with him. you cursed at yourself upon seeing it.

"ugh fuck," you whispered to yourself, after looking at the white stick you just used. you discovered that you were officially pregnant with your ex-boyfriend, ryusei shidou's baby.

well, the circumstances of the breakup weren't exactly ideal. you loved shidou dearly, but he started becoming a little bit toxic. it all started when you asked to break up with him for the sake of your career, but he refused to— you ended up having make up sex until you forgot about breaking up. after that, whenever you guys start having an argument, he brings up the fact that you almost broke up with him, even to the point of accusing you for cheating— but he wasn't agressive. it was more of a taunt to you, given his smug personality.

eventually, you got sick of it and broke up with him. now, you're in your bathroom, thinking whether you should tell him or not. you sigh, setting down the three tests, and taking a photo of them.

if you're going to be honest, you'd love to have kids— babies to be exact. but you're not sure about who their dad would be. also, you're not sure if your menacing ex would be the ideal man for that. besides, you're broke right now... which means, you'll be needing his help.

so with a little bit of hesitation, you texted him after deleting his contact, and not talking for the past two weeks, sending him a photo of those three tests.

this is the first time he left you on read, and it made your blood boil. you were so mad.

after that, you tossed your phone on the bed. why were you hoping for a good response from shidou anyway? that's like waiting for a shooting star.

until the next night...

you couldn't stop your blood from boiling upon reading this. so you devised a plan to confront. the next day, you were angrily storming in to the sports arena, after his football practice. there's not a lot of people during that hour and he's usually the last person to leave. you entered the locker room, where you met him, with his towel hanging low from his hips. he smirked upon seeing you with an angry expression while approaching him.

"yo y/n—" shidou tried to greet you, but your palm came across his cheek. you slapped him with full of anger.

"you have the guts to greet me with a 'yo' when i just told you that i'm pregnant and you literally ignored me?!" you almost caused a scandal in the locker room, but it's a good thing that there's only the two of you in the whole place.

you thought shidou would argue back, but he didn't. he smirked, ignored you, and just got dressed. all while you waited for his answer. this is shidou's usual trick to provoke you. he's going to be quiet and wear a smug expression, until you get so angry... and eventually, you're gonna find yourself calming down.

"r-ryusei— hey, d-don't ignore me! hey!" you tried chasing him as he almost left while carrying his sports duffel bag, but you blocked his way, almost doing a t-pose. and he laughed upon you doing this. you got so embarrassed and flustered by his reaction.

"you're so funny, y/n." shidou said in a smug voice, "if you want my help, you gotta at least be nice to me, you know? you'll need to take me back to your life.~"

oh hell nah, shidou knows a lot. he knows that child was made by you and him. but of course... he won't give you what you want. not until you beg for it. not until you show him how dependent you are to him.

shidou didn't expect you to give in so fast though. but you had swallow your pride. you badly need his help.

"i-i— don't leave me alone, ryusei. this is your child too. i—" you were having a hard time blocking his way and he's surely having fun watching you chase him like this. "f-fine, i'll play nice and do whatever you want!"

again, for the third time, shidou managed to make himself crawl back in your life again. you could never get rid of this man.

[joudeq]

kento x reader

~ cornball

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modern au : nerd!nanami x reader

tags : fluff / AWFUL jokes / hes a silly nerd / TW: exams / modern au / jjk / kento x reader (not gender specific) / oneshot

a/n : just a short nanami drabble bc i love him hes such a stupid loser

context : hes your nerdy roommate and you're both studying for upcoming finals, you find yourself overwhelmed with the workload and he tries cheering you up

ALSO 8 followers i love u guys

------------------------------------------------------

The low hum of your desk lamp filled the otherwise quiet room. The exam was just a couple of days away, and the tension was eating away at you. You had been studying for hours, your brain already tired of trying to memorize everything. Each sentence on the page started to blur together, and you found yourself thinking more about how much you wanted a break than the material in front of you.

Nanami, on the other hand, was the picture of composure. He sat across the room, as usual, his posture straight and his focus unwavering. You could hear the sound of his pen scratching across the paper, making meticulous notes in the margins of his textbook.

You tried to focus on your own work, but it was useless. Your mind kept wandering. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You let out an exasperated sigh, slumping down in your chair.

"I'm going to fail," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes in frustration. "I can't do this. There's s no way."

He glanced up from his work, his usual calm and composed expression softened by a hint of concern. "You're fine," he said gently. "You've been studying for weeks. You'll be ready."

You groaned again, feeling the weight of your anxiety pressing down on you. "It just doesn't feel like enough. I can't focus. My brain is mush after digesting that much chemistry at once!"

He set his textbook aside and stood up slowly, walking toward you. He was always so composed, like the world was always under control. But tonight, something about the way he looked at you made him seem a little unsure, even bashful.

"I think you need a break," Nanami said, his voice unusually soft. "Maybe... maybe I could tell you a joke? That might help, right?"

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was serious. Nanami? Kento Nanami? Telling a joke? You could never imagine him doing such a thing. His usual serious, no-nonsense demeanor didn't exactly scream 'comedian.'

"You?" you asked, almost teasing. "You want to tell me a joke?"

He shifted awkwardly, his face turning a faint pink, and you could tell that this was definitely not his comfort zone. "Well, I thought It might make you feel better?"

You sat up straighter in your chair, genuinely curious now. You didn't expect your roommate to go for something like this. "Alright, I'm all ears," you said with a genuine smile, even though it was a little teasing.

Nanami cleared his throat, straightening up and pushing up his glasses as though he were about to deliver some profound piece of wisdom. There was a nervous energy about him, and you could see the awkwardness in the way he held his hands at his sides. "Okay, here goes. It's a simple one, don't get your hopes up." he muttered.

You waited expectantly, trying to hold back a smile.

"Why don't skeletons fight each other?" he asked, the serious tone in his voice making it sound like this was a big deal.

You blinked at him, confused but intrigued. "Uh,why?"

And without missing a beat, Nanami hesitated for just a moment, then nervously blurted out:

"Because they don't have the guts."

....

A long silence followed. Nanami's gaze flickered to the floor, looking extremely uncomfortable as he waited for a response. You froze for a moment, processing the full weight of the corny joke. You stared at him, and he was just standing there, his cheeks lightly flushed, clearly waiting for you to either laugh or tell him how terrible it was.

You couldn't t help it. The awkwardness of it all was too much. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as you practically collapsed onto the desk.

"Oh my god, Nanami," you gasped between giggles. "That was...That was so bad!"

Nanami's face turned a deep red, and he immediately looked away, a little embarrassed. "I thought it might help - you know, make you smile," he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. "It was a good joke, right? I mean - it's classic humor," he looked at you then, his eyes sparkling as if he was seeking your approval, a small smile curling the corners of his lips as he watched you laugh.

You wiped away a tear from the corner of your eye, still chuckling. "It was so bad that it was hilarious. I'm literally dying here."

Nanami shuffled awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond. He had always been so calm, so serious, but seeing him this flustered made him even more endearing. He cleared his throat again, still trying to regain his usual cool. "It was just a joke," he muttered, his hands still slightly trembling. "I thought I'd lighten the mood."

You straightened up, finally able to control your laughter, and gave him a softer smile. "You definitely lightened the mood. In a very unique way."

He rubbed the back of his neck, still flushed but also looking a bit relieved that you weren't somehow upset. "I shall try harder next time. Maybe I'll work on my material."

You smiled at him, feeling your nerves ease a little. "Nah, you're good. You've definitely earned a break for the night. But next time, maybe leave the dad jokes for another day, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, a little embarrassed but also clearly pleased to have made you laugh, even if in the most awkward way possible. "I'll take your criticism as a compliment."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you, It was the way he had stepped out of his comfort zone just to make you feel better, to bring some levity into your stressful night.

Suddenly, the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease, and you realized that for the first time tonight, you were genuinely at ease. Nanami had managed to make you forget about the looming exam, if only for a moment. And in that moment, everything else felt a little less important.

You paused for a moment, looking at him with a soft smile. The warmth in his expression was enough to make your heart flutter, and without thinking, you stepped forward and gently kissed his cheek, your lips lingering for just a second.

Nanami froze for a moment, his face going beet red. "W-What was that for?" he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

You smiled at him, feeling a rush of affection as you took a step back. "For making me laugh," you said softly, your eyes lingering on his flustered face. "You're a good guy, Nanami."

He blinked, still processing the kiss, and you could see the tips of his ears turning red. "Oh, um.. thank you," he mumbled, his usual stoic nature failing him for a moment.

The awkward tension in the air was gone, replaced with the comfortable silence between you two. You both knew that the exam was still there, looming over your heads, but for a little while, it didn't matter.

Well, not until you opened the exam paper in front of you the next day.

Sheesh, you seriously should've studied for this.

[abrcmswrld]

The Getaway

Edward Nashton x Coworker! Reader

Word Count: 9,282

Warnings: smut (18+ only MDNI), murder, blood, the typical ya know, angst, so much angst, reader is a giant angst ball

Summary: You should've turned him away that night. Instead you let him in your home and into your mind and into your heart, and now he's burrowed himself so deep it feels like cutting out a vital organ to send him away.

Authors Note: ugh i missed TTS's second birthday by two days! this has been a long time coming, i know, and i'm sorry for that. i am still not 100% happy with this version of the fic but i cannot leave this trilogy unfinished any longer so with that being said, i hope you enjoy <3 -abram

Ao3 Link

It's been a little over a month since the flood and Edward's arrest. You never went back to Gotham. Although you thought about it, but that was before you got the call from KTMJ. They had urged you to come back, stating that they'd operate through difficult times.

You had sighed and given them a brief answer, "Um, yeah, I'll let you know by the end of the week. Thanks."

You hesitated, "Before I go, has the Forensic Accountant position been filled?"

The woman on the phone takes a moment to rustle through paperwork before giving you a short "It has."

You never went back to KTMJ. You began renting an apartment two cities over. You want to get as far away from Gotham as possible, but you'd have to settle for now because of your budget. 

The days are long. Work at a restaurant downtown doesn't do much to ease your troubles. The customers are obnoxious and the hours are long, but you're lucky enough to find a mutual toleration between your coworkers.

Of course, none of them really know you. They don't know the things you've been through, or the city you came from. Nor did they know the place you had previously worked, or the people you once knew. And honestly you doubt they'd even care, but it's lonely. So incredibly lonely without anyone to find solace in. Nobody who really sees you.

So instead you take solace in the strangers you take home for a short time. Their arms are warm with pumping blood and their hands are deliciously rough as they push up your thighs.

But they aren't gentle with you the way that he was. They don't hold you like they want to keep you safe like Edward had. You can't help but feel a pain in your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine it's Edward's hands pushing up your thighs to your chest and pushing into you without care.

You stop letting your one night stands stay the night after a week or so. After you realized the night terrors weren't going to stop. It was easier to kick them out than to scramble up an excuse that doesn't involve the phrase:

I think I'm in love with a serial killer.

It was easier to spare them the experience of waking up to your screams and cries and your shaking shoulders. The vivid nightmares are never the same. But you always remember them. You always remember the vivid red stain of Edward's blood on your hands as you hold his bleeding form to your chest.

Maybe it's the thought of never being able to see him again that is bringing on the idea of his death in your dreams. And truthfully you had thought about attempting to visit him in Arkham, but the flood made that nearly impossible.

But you crave to see him. You often wonder if they are truly trying to help him, or if they've simply thrown him behind bars to rot. Maybe they'd drugged him up so much he couldn't even form coherent thoughts. Were they feeding him enough? Did he see a therapist?

You have to splash cold water on your face to break the cycling questions bouncing around in your head. Were you even really in love with him? Or were you just looking for that rush that he had given you that night?

No, you can't visit him. You had just gotten The Bat off of your case. You decided it was probably in your best interest to keep your distance.

━

The Bat had visited your apartment about three weeks after the flood.

The knock on the door of your new apartment startles you. You don't know many people in the city. You've made friends with coworkers but it ended there. But the knocking is persistent.

You're shocked to see him. The elusive figure who you'd spoken to only weeks prior, just after the flood. You blink up at his looming figure, looking for something to say but he beats you to it,

"Can I talk to you?"

You find yourself simply nodding quickly and opening the door wider for him to enter. You pour him a glass of water and wait for what he had to say. It feels silly sitting in your tiny kitchen, listening intently to the man in this costume. But his voice and his attitude show a sense of dominance that's just enough to make you feel obligated to listen.

He's not the cops, you remind yourself.

"You moved quickly."

You swallow a sip of water and glance up at him. "Yeah... Well Gotham was kind of impossible to live in after the flood so."

He simply stares as you answer before another question, "You didn't attempt to go back to KTMJ?" You shake your head in response. "It's a little hard to go back after an event like that, don't you think?"

"I talked to your coworkers."

You raise an eyebrow at him, unsure of where he's going with his statement. "You were close to him. To The Riddler." He hisses out Edward's alias as if it disgusts him to even say it, and it immediately sours your mood. You scoff, "What did Zach tell you that?"

He doesn't answer your question, but continues to speak. "He's not just a coworker. You knew him better than that, didn't you?" You furrow your brows at his words.

"What are you trying to assume?"

"What did he tell you? Did you know about what he was planning? You could've saved lives!" He's raising his voice and you can't help but pinch the bridge of your nose before the frustration finally peaks.

"I knew Edward! Edward. Not The Riddler. Okay? I didn't know anything!"

You stare with a stern, straight face as you stand from the table to tower over him to give yourself any bit of confidence over him that you could. And you did what Edward might have hated, and lied right through your teeth. 

"I slept with him. One time. It was one time after a single date."

He tilts his head as he listens.

"I don't think I'm responsible for the actions of a man that I fucked one time, and I'd hope that my coworkers wouldn't think so either."

It left a bitter taste in your mouth, because Edward was more than just a man you had fucked. You cared about him. You cared what happened to him.

"I liked him. It's true. He came over for dinner one time, we had sex, and a week later I see him on the news. So, tell me, what am I meant to do about that?"

You lie so easily. It shocks you how easily the words flow from your lips. He stares before standing up and starting to speak, but you're so worked up. You could cry. You want him out of your apartment. "You're not a cop. If you want to question me more you can call one of your buddies and have them get here. Otherwise, please, get the hell out of my apartment.

He complies without a fight and you slam the door shut as soon ask his feet cross the threshold into the hallway. 

And you had thought about it nearly every single day since. You can only imagine it- your old coworkers huddled around in a circle the minute they return to KTMJ with yours and Edward's names on their tongues. You imagine they are making their own scenarios by now. Hell, Zach is probably leading the pack of slut shaming insults that are floating around that office building and into the ears of this costumed vigilante.

You can't rightfully be angry. You did know what Edward was doing. In fact you had known it nearly a week before the flood even happened, and you chose to do nothing. You've accepted the fact that you aren't a good person, but it would make it easier to move on if Edward wasn't constantly taking up space in your mind. 

Innocent people died and you still want him. You're a monster.

Nausea bubbles in your stomach. 

━

It's weeks later when you see the headline. Staring down at your phone on the subway ride home, your body turns to ice.

'Multiple Patients Escape Arkham State Hospital'

Your eyes are wide and your hands shakes as you scroll through the article, skimming until you see his name and face. It's an old mugshot, one you've seen before.

Your mind is racing, and you practically sprint home from your subway stop. You can only think of his words before he had turned himself in, the last time you had seen him.

"I promise if I ever get out, I'll find you."

But he wouldn't be there that night. Or the next night. Or even the next month. And by that point you had given up any hope that he would show. Perhaps he had regretted what happened between the two of you. Perhaps there was another person. Another reason.

You fill your days the best you can with unimportant tasks. You start going out more, recklessly. Drinking by yourself. You know you shouldn't. It could lead to trouble. Trouble that you couldn't get yourself out of like you had previously. But you can't help yourself. You almost don't remember him or the flood when you drink. It's peaceful.

You start to wonder, did you even want him here? Would his presence fill a void that you had within you for so long now? Or would it just make you feel worse? Would it fuck up your life more than it already had?

You try to stop asking yourself the questions as you toss back a shot. The bar is loud. Not as loud as the Iceberg Lounge had been back in Gotham, but loud enough to now allow anymore vicious thoughts to enter your mind. It's bliss, if only for a short while.

But you won't let yourself get too far. You've never been here. You don't know the people here. You need to be decently sober minded. You hoped that this city wouldn't reflect the cruelty that plagued Gotham. You'd never think of entering a bar on your own in Gotham.

You gather your coat from the back of the chair you've sat and thrown it on as you walk from the bar. You can feel a pair of eyes watching you as you do. Because you know that feeling. It makes you shiver and think of all the times he had watched you through your window. Secretly you entertain the idea that it might be him again.

But it's not, and you spot the dark haired man right away. He's older, wrinkled, dressed decently. You can tell the way he attempts to appear unassuming as he slithers around the corner you had just passed.

You clench your fist in your pocket. You had walked to the bar. You have no keys. You have no form of self defense, besides your own hands and feet. And you can hear his footsteps so clearly as you attempt to escape from him into the alley. And then he speaks, calling out to you.

"Hey!"

You attempt to ignore him, understanding that this might be the wrong move. People get murdered everyday for saying 'no.' His steps become quicker as he is starting to close the distance between you. 

"Sweetheart!"

You continue to ignore, picking up your pace. But he's so close, too close to ignore as you feel your body jolt to a stop as his hand catches your arm. You let out a small yelp as he pulls your body around to face him.

"Where are you headed? It's a little early to call it quits, huh?"

You stay quiet and avoid his eye contact, never looking at his face. It only pisses him off as he harshly grabs your chin to force your eyes in his direction. "Look at me, yeah? How about you come back with me? Have some fun, sweetheart." You look into his eyes, attempting to calm the situation. And suddenly you're a small child again. Authority is looking you right in the eye and you can't help but start to break down. Your voice is shaking like the rest of you.

"Please...I- I don't think- I can give you money, just-"

Pathetic, you think. You were a fool to think this city would be different.

The monster's hands are all over your body. "It's okay, sweetheart, what you have is worth so much more than money." You've gone numb, your body preparing to accept the pain that is about to hit you as he presses your back against the brick wall. 

But instead of pain, it's a seething warmth splashing up onto your face and down your neck. His weight is falling on top of you as you slide yourself down the wall until you hit the ground.

Hot. Red. Hot. Red.

It's all you can think before you meet the familiar figure above you. Green vinyl. A blood stained knife in one hand. The figure kicks the man's lifeless and twitching corpse off of your body. You finally draw in a breath.

"I couldn't stay away."

You're on the wet asphalt of the dark alley, covered from your face to your chest in the monster's blood. You're unable to say anything. You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. Your ears are ringing. You can only stare up at the familiar shade of green with wide eyes.

"Come on. Let's get you home."

It's unclear if he's talking to you or himself. He holds out a hand to help you off the ground. He is desperately wiping at your face to smear most of the drying blood from your cheeks, and takes his overcoat off to wrap it around your bloodied torso. His hands linger a little longer on your shoulders and suddenly the reality of your situation hits. The shock and adrenaline are wearing off and you're suddenly shaking and hot tears are falling down your cheeks.

"Edward..."

He pushes a small piece of your hair from your eyes. For the first time you aren't crying in fear at the sight of him, but rather relief. 

He follows you home and into your apartment. As soon as he crosses the threshold, you find your fingers ripping the mask from his face. He looks just like you remember him- soft, fair, cherubic. His hair is longer. His frame is slightly thinner than you remember. You run your thumb over a scar that's formed on his cheekbone, furrowing your brows as you take in his features.

His lips feel the same as you remember- chapped, plush, warm. His bloodied and gloved hand on the small of your back is the only thing keeping you grounded in the moment. Blood has transferred in flakes from your lips to his and you're suddenly itching to wash it from you. You want nothing of that monster on your skin, or Edward's. 

He's obedient and quiet. He lets you pull him into your bathroom and strip him down as if it was the most normal and mundane task you'd ever done. He clings to you in the shower, like he never wants you more than an inch from him. You're okay with it, you think as you press a cheek to his bare chest. 

You realize you've not said a word to him since you spoke his name in the alley.

"I never thought I'd see you again."

It's an honest confession. Not that you didn't think he was strong enough to survive after an escape, just that you'd accepted he had no desire to see you any further.

"Yeah...Me neither."

His hands rub gently at your face, washing away the flakes of caked blood.You close your eyes and lean into it.

The water around the two of you is finally beginning to run clear instead of red. You pull your cheek from his chest and glance over his entire figure. "I've never seen you like this."

He had seen you like this. You know he has. Maybe that's why it felt so satisfying to finally have him this vulnerable. He cocks his head and you finish, "Bare, ya know. That last night it was dark and quick and I didn't see you like this."

His face flattens like he's nervous. "I like it." He stares down at you like he can't believe you'd said it. Like he can't believe you'd like him without the facade of The Riddler, just Edward. He only stares for a moment longer before his lips are back on yours.

The intimacy of his hands in your hair, washing the tiny bits of coagulated blood from the strands is surreal. It's some fucked up version of all of the romance books you had read as a teenager.

You let yourself lean into it anyway.

━

You don't even bother dressing yourself after the shower. You urge him to do the same. You want that closeness. The comfort of his skin on yours in a way that is intimate without the added sexual intention.

Your body clings to his in your bed. He's laid down with you, brushing your hair and tangling his limbs with yours under the blankets. His presence soothes you quicker than anything. You almost forget the actions that had transpired, the way you were almost taken from in the most vile way. The way he had killed for you.

Rain patters outside your window. It's so peaceful. It almost feels domestic. Once again you're thinking about what could've been. Maybe if you had met Edward on the playground instead of the office things would've been different. Maybe he would've had a crush on you. Maybe you would've denied it until you were older. Maybe you would've snuck out into the night together and kissed in cars. Maybe he wouldn't have felt like he had to do the things he's done. 

You miss him. Even with his warm body pressed up against yours you miss him. You miss his glances from across the room. You miss looking over his shoulder at his crossword puzzles. You miss his presence within your life. For the past year it's been missing, and there was no clean cut. His page had been messily ripped from your book.

The thoughts of casually dating like normal do plagues your mind. You imagine coming home to the same apartment every night after work. The feeling of his hand on the small of your back while you cook dinner. His scent permanently seeped into your sheets.

You mourn a life you've never even lived.

But he looks perfect next to you in this moment. His eyes are soft, and that same striking green color you remember. He looks so tired, but still he just looks at you like he never wants to close his eyes. His hand brushes your cheek.

"I wanted to stay away, but I couldn't."

You furrow your brows. You can't help but feel a slight sting at the idea that he may not have wanted to see you again. "Why?"

"It's not just me. There's other people involved now and I didn't want you getting wrapped up in it." He strokes a gentle thumb over your bottom lip. "I don't trust them to know about you yet. So I stayed away."

You frown as he continues speaking, "You'd moved away from it all. I thought for sure you'd move on. But that fucker'shands on you changed my mind."

He lowers his voice to a whisper,

"I'll never let anyone touch you like that."

His words make you feel something between a flame and a flutter in your stomach. He had rescued you, like some hero in the night. No longer just a dark figure in a window, but the man you loved there to rescue you.

You can feel tears welling in your eyes.

"I want to leave with you. I wanna go so far away that nobody ever sees us again."

He smiles a sad smile in response, but you need him to know you mean what you said.

"I'm serious. I don't want you to go again."

"I'm not sure I have a choice."

And that's the moment you snap back to reality. He's not a hero. He had hurt many people. The flood undoubtedly hurt innocent people. And the GCPD would never stop looking for him. Your face drops. 

"Right."

You kiss his forehead before turning onto your other side. You can't look at him anymore. And you don't want him to see your tears. So instead you relax into him as he wraps an arm around you.

━

The next morning he's gone from the bed. You feel panic fall over you for a second before you see the note on your tiny nightstand. 

I'll be back. -E.

You sigh. Yeah, when?

His bloodied belongings are gone and he's cleaned the mess of the bathroom. It's almost as if he'd never been there at all. And you think you could convince yourself of that if it weren't for his scrawled handwriting on the paper beside your bed.

You attempt to enjoy a day off, but quickly find yourself wishing that you had been called in to take a shift. It's quiet. Normally you'd find it pleasant, but you find it hard to bear after the events of the night before.

You rip up the piece of paper he'd had left and flush the remaining evidence down the toilet. As soon as your bare feet hit the cold tile you hear a knock at the door. Through the peephole, you're met with a familiar figure. The Bat.

You pause for a moment to gather your thoughts. Shit. It's time to be serious, you think as you open the door slowly. He says your name in that familiar deep voice. One that shrills out almost like a harsh whisper.

You stand, feigning confidence. You glance around, halfway expecting a police officer to be accompanying him. But he's alone.

"I thought I told you last time that if you want to talk to me you can bring your cop buddy."

He doesn't budge. You'd be lying if you said the armor didn't make him intimidating. "Where is he?"

You stand still, unmoving in the doorway. "Aren't you supposed to be the one figuring that out? I don't know where he is."

It's not a total lie. You need to make him believe you. You open the door, allowing him in as you continue to speak. "I saw the news. It's impossible to avoid. I almost expected him to show up here, but he never did."

Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.

You shut the door behind him. "You expect me to believe that?" You push down the irritation you feel at his words. "You can look everywhere here. I don't care. As long as you leave me alone after this."

You hope Edward had been smart. You pray that he had cleaned up the way you thought he had. As if he was never here.

The Bat makes his way around the apartment. You sit at your dining table and pour yourself a glass of wine. You'd rather not hover, it'd only make you look nervous. 

And by the time he makes his way back to you, your heart is beating fast. You wait for him to speak.

"A man was murdered in an alley downtown. Stabbed to death."

You sigh. "I don't know what you expect me to say to that. People die every day." You stand to show him the door. "If you searched what you want to search I'd love it if you would-" Before you can reach for the doorknob, his hand catches your arm. It takes you back to the previous night in the alley, and you find yourself flinching back.

"If he shows up here, don't be stupid. He's a murderer. Don't put yourself in that situation."

You nod quickly before opening the door and gesturing for him to leave. He lightens up slightly, clearly noticing the way way you had flinched away from him. He steps out of the apartment.

"Be safe."

You shut the door.

━

You continue to sip the wine all day. Your nerves are shot. And there's still no sign of Edward. You run a bath and sink into it. The water is hot, hotter than you'd usually like, but the sting feels good tonight. You close your eyes, sighing out a breath until you hear the click of the lock. You startle a bit, snapping your eyes open quickly and turning to face the open bathroom doorway that faces your bedroom.

"Edward?"

Whoever it is doesn't respond but you can hear the footsteps slowly approaching. Your heart beats faster and faster and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears. But as the footsteps reach the bedroom you can see him in the dark, familiar build and glasses glinting in the light that seeps in from the bathroom.

You let out a sharp exhale as he walks into the bathroom. "You scared the shit out of me."

You rest your forehead on one of your palms. He kneels down next to the tub and smoothes a hand down the side of your head. "I'm sorry. I took the spare key."

"You could've told me."

You hate how mean you sound, but you're tense. And the stress is building. You sigh again. "I'm sorry. I just- The Bat...he showed up today. Looking for you."

He furrows his brows and you can see him thinking. "He did?" He looks like he expects the worst. Like he expects that you sold him out or planned to.. "What did you tell him?"

You look into his eyes and scoff a little. "I told him you weren't here. I told him I knew you were missing, but that you never showed." You pause for a moment. "I wouldn't sell you out. You know that right? I- I wouldn't do that." The wine has you slightly buzzed and slightly overemotional. You can recognize that.

He doesn't speak, just places a hand on the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. It's deep and passionate. Almost like he's been waiting to kiss you like this. It stuns you for a moment, but it doesn't take long before you're reaching wet hands around the fabric on his back and pulling him in deeper.

He hovers over you. His lips are attaching themselves to the wet expanse of your neck and you can't help but throw your head back to give him room. You've missed his touch. Nobody else's including your own would do. You let out a quiet moan and that's all it takes for him to pull the plug on the bath, drenching his sleeve in the process, and pulling you up and out of the tub so that he can dry your wet body.

The moment he pushes your nude body to fall onto the bed, he's already on his knees. He's ready to devour you, and it has you thinking back to the way his tongue had felt as it dove inside of you. You had craved that feeling for almost a year now. But you still find yourself pushing him back with a foot to his chest.

He gives a questioning look to you, and for a moment you're overcome with a sudden shyness that prevents you from speaking. You collect your thoughts.

"Take off your pants."

He hesitates for a moment, before complying. His hands shake as they unbuckle his belt and push his pants down his legs, discarding them to the side. You hope he's shaking with anticipation, just as you are.

You don't even speak before you scramble to your knees. With two fingers under the waistband of his boxers you look up to meet his eyes. There's a fire in them, and you can't get enough of it.

You drag the fabric of his underwear down until he is freed from the confines of fabric. You relish in the gasp that falls from his lips as he softly rubs at your hair. He's noisy as you put your mouth on him. His moans are whiney and pathetic, and you want to eat them up.

Slow and steady, you think.

You want to pick him apart slowly- piece by piece. Just as he had slowly chipped away at your reserve all those months ago.

"Has anyone ever done this for you, Edward?"

He shakes his head, face contorted into a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. His hands on the back of your head are shaking, and you can tell he's slowly losing his self control as he pushes light pressure forward. Your eyes are watering, and you're trying your best to keep up until-

He takes a step back.

"S'gonna cum if you kept doing that."

It's drawled out into a slight whine, and you've caught your breath enough to reply,

"I want that, Edward."

He stares at you as if he can't believe you're saying such things to him. And honestly you can't believe it either. You think back to his stolen glances at the office- back when things were normal. The days when you would come home, tired and stiff, with only him on your mind.

Desperate, longing, pathetic.

You think back to the days that neither one of you had the guts to say anything, watching each other get off through a barrier- until he broke the barrier. And just as quickly as he had broken it, he had disappeared.

You kiss him. So hard it almost knocks him over. When you separate, neither of you speak for a moment. You listen to the sound of each other's beating hearts and heavy breathing. You trail your fingers up his hoodie, the only thing left blocking his skin from yours, and urge him to pull it up and off. He does so without hesitation.

"You should lay down."

For some reason his words stun you. You open your mouth to speak, hands resting on his bare chest, but nothing comes out. You simply nod and let yourself lay back against the soft mattress.

It also stuns you how swiftly he makes his way to hover over your body, spreading your thighs to fit himself between them. Any ounce of confidence has left you in this moment. You trail a hand lightly down his spine as he leans down towards your lips, just barely touching.

His forehead rests on yours and you can feel his breath on your face. It makes you shake more as his hand trails down your body until his cold fingers reach your core. You let out a shaky whisper,

"I want you..."

The smile he cracks makes your heart soar. You let your hand rest on the side of his face, slightly cupping his jaw. "Please..."

It's perfect, just as you remember. The burning stretch of him is a feeling that you've been chasing for months on end. You can't help but let your head fall back onto the mattress as you cry out.

You can feel his warm hands cradling the small of your back, pulling you in closer as he begins to thrust into you. His brows are furrowed in concentration, but you can see the way his features are fighting to break into a look of bliss. And you love it like this. You love how clearly you can see him like this. All skin on skin, unlike the last time you had him.

"You're everything."

Something in your heart flutters as he speaks. You feel him in ways that you forgot were possible. You can't help the babble of words that start to fall from your mouth.

"Nobody is like you, Edward. Nobody."

You let your hands loop around the back of his neck, holding his gaze. "I've had so many strangers in this bed while you were gone." You take note of the way his brows furrow and he twitches inside of you. "But none of them do it like you."

You know you've worked him up when he's suddenly gripping your thigh with one. hand and driving into you at a pace that teeters on the line of too much and just enough. Uneven. Ferocious. Inexperienced. And yet it makes you want to come all over him in an instant.

It's been too long. You're too pent up. His hands lead your face towards his until you're locked into a kiss once again.Your nails are digging into the meat of his arms as he holds your face, and you can only hope that you aren't hurting him too badly.

His face contorts into a look of pleasure as choked off whines escape his lips. You can feel tears running from the corners of your eyes as you cry out in pleasure. You never want this moment to end. You shouldn't even be doing this.

The thought that this moment is fleeting, much like your time with him, makes you tense. Wrapping your arms around his back and pulling him as close as you can to your body, you whisper out and into his ear,

"I love you, Edward."

He lets his head hang low until your foreheads meet. "I- I love you too- Ah-" His thrusts are sloppy and familiar. You can recognize the way his legs shake. He's so close to finishing and you want to give him that release more than anything. You should be pushing him out the door.

You drag your nails down the skin of his back. "Please..." It's the only word you can force out as you look into his eyes, bottomless green pits, and he nods at you. You revel in the sounds of his broken off whines and sloppy thrusts and you hold him close as he reaches the edge.

The warmth of him as he finishes pushes you closer and closer to edge until you're a goner.

You're a monster.

━

When it's all over, you're clinging onto him as those waves of pleasure crash over you and you shake in his grasp. He's stopped his movements but leaves himself buried inside. He leans his face against your neck, heavy breaths puffing against your skin.

You stay like this for a while. It's so quiet. You can faintly hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. You stroke a hand through his hair as he finally pulls away and falls onto his back. 

His eyes are closed, and his breathing is relaxed. He reaches a hand over to rub tiny circles onto your exposed hip with his fingers.

"I'm sorry for being so mean earlier."

His fingers stop for a moment as if he's taking in your statement. "I'm just feeling really uneasy here."

"You have nothing to worry about. I'm taking care of it all."

You sigh. Despite the bliss of physical intimacy and the love you feel for him, a nerve within you is struck. You let out a shaky breath.

"Why did you flood the city?"

There's a pause of thick silence in the air. "I did what was necessary." You furrow your brows and face him as he continues,

"Gotham needed real renewal."

"There were children. There were innocent people that died Edward." You can tell your words bother him. He avoids meeting your eye and his hands have a nervous twitch. "It was a small price to pay."

You blink over at him. His eyes still won't meet yours.

"I hope you don't actually feel that way."

You let yourself roll over, unable to speak any further. He lays unmoving for a moment, deep sighs rolling out of his mouth, before you feel him stand from his side of the bed and hear him gather his clothes before he walks out.

You squeeze your eyes shut and force the urge to sleep to take over.

━

His words plague your mind for weeks to come. It's eerily silent with no word or surprise visits from The Bat, and you can feel the suspense building inside of you.

Edward's warmth on your side each passing night brings a sense of comfort and belonging, but you find that the hours he is gone doing god knows what long and dreadful.

The implications that could come with Edward being caught out on the streets makes you sick at your stomach. Your name in the news and life down the drain. But you more so find yourself worrying what would happen to Edward in that situation.

You imagine they'd throw him into solitary confinement, and slowly drain any ounce of sanity that he had left. Punishment. It threatens to make you vomit as you contemplate the possibilities.

What had you done?

And soon you begin thinking of ways to give Edward a chance, even if slim. You run your fingers through tussled hair at night when you watch him sleep. You never want that peaceful look to leave his face.

But it's helpless. You know this. You're prolonging both of your sufferings by allowing him to stay as long as he has. There's no happy endings or escaping into an orange lit sunset. He was right when he had told you how he felt. You were too late and he had chosen his fate.

You eat dinner night after night, leaving him the leftover rice and chicken from a nearby takeout place. He comes home later and later every night. And occasionally you can't help yourself. You wait up for him until he comes home and you find comfort in the burn of his skin against yours.

The touch of his rough hands on your hips is electric as he thrusts messily into you. It feels good, but only leaves you feeling slightly sick after the fact.

Especially when he closes his eyes like it hurts to look at you. You let your hands caress his cheeks as you will him to open his eyes. "Look at me, Edward." It's a soft whisper. He doesn't relent.

"I love you."

You shouldn't.

And finally he opens his eyes. He's crying. It's unmistakable. He wilts in on himself like the petals of a flower as the tears begin to fall down his cheeks. "I'm sorry for everything I've done." His body still shivers from the feeling of you around him. You notice as you gently guide him out of you and onto his back against the bed. You wipe the tears with your fingers and kiss him deeply.

"I forgive you." 

Do you?

He sobs into your chest until the sleep overcomes him that night. You stay awake, staring at the ceiling. You forgive him, you think. You wouldn't lie to him. 

But the sinking feeling remains. This thing that the two of you have built is doomed, and you begin to wonder if you've started lying to yourself.

Even after his apologies, he stays out. You stop waiting for him to return at night. Even after his apologies, he is wrapped up so tightly in the work of The Riddler. Even after his apologies, you are left with a sick feeling in your gut.

You fall deeper and deeper into your paranoia.

It's getting harder and harder to sleep at night. This city is too much like Gotham. This job is just as miserable as KTMJ. And somehow after everything, Edward has maintained his spot in your miserable life. You want, no, need to hate him. You need to push him out of the door and tell him to never come back. 

You've allowed him to stay for too long.

You want him here.

You cannot take the sight of him anymore.

You never want to look away.

You bury your face into your pillow and let out a scream that shreds your throat.

━

It's one of the few nights he has decided come home early enough to catch the dinner you'd carefully crafted for the two of you. It's almost strange sitting across from him at the dinner table. He had been coming to you like some sort of creature of the night, carefully picking the lock on your door and sliding into bed with you when you were already asleep.

"I'm really glad you're here. I was proud of this one."

You pull your mouth into the best smile you could muster up and he smiles back. "It's good." 

You let out a huff of a laugh as you push around a remaining piece of cream sauce covered broccoli on your plate. "You mean it?"

His eyes meet yours, "I don't lie." 

It's silent for a few more moments, with only the sounds of your forks hitting the ceramic plates and the faint hum of your A/C unit. You barely even realize you've been bouncing your legs with nerves since the moment you sat down. You really shouldn't push it you think. You should just enjoy this moment. He had come home early enough to eat dinner with you.

Oh. Home. There's that word again. 

Could you really even consider this place his home. 

Would he consider it his home?

You should be happy. Instead, you feel like you could burst into tears at any moment. 

"I really wish we could do this more often."

He stands from his seat and walks his plate over to the sink to rinse the mess of it. "Hm?" 

You join him by the sink, letting a hand rest on his back. 

"I just- I like having you here. Actually here, not just in bed at night." 

It's a plea. You hope he sees it as that. You want nothing more than for him to recognize how much you're suffering in your current situation. Instead, he smiles and turns to pull you into an embrace. His lips are close to your ears, pressing light kisses to your head. You can hear his steady breathing. He hesitates to reply.

"You know I would be here all the time if I could."

You pull away softly, eyes meeting his. "The Riddler demands attention." 

It comes out just as snarky and drained as you feel in the moment. The Riddler had people outside waiting on him, people you don't even know. The Riddler had business so important it keeps him out all day and nearly all night. The Riddler had amassed followers in amounts you couldn't fathom.

Edward had a lone lover waiting at home and living in delusion. 

He furrows his brows, "You're angry." You laugh, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. 

"I've been waiting all night for you nearly every single night. You're barely here. I feel like some animal having the one thing they want dangled in front of but just out of reach."

There's a silence, like you've caught him off guard. And you've caught yourself off guard too. There's tears flowing down your cheeks and you can barely catch your breath. You've held it in too long now. You're afraid you might tear everything apart.

"God forbid I want to sit down and eat a normal meal like normal people." 

You look stupid. You probably seem like you've gone nuts. But he keeps his tone mellow.

"Things are never gonna be normal for you. Not as long as I am around."

You really shouldn't be pissed off, he's telling nothing but the harsh truth. It was you who was in denial, clinging to the idea of what could've been your life. At the same time, it was him to had shown back up after months of insisted no contact.

"Then why did you come back?!" 

You can see his hands shaking at his sides. You've hurt his feelings, but you can't bring yourself to stop the overflowing words.

"Why did you come back? Just to rub it in my face that I can never really have you? You should've just left it at rejecting me at KTMJ."

He's quiet, eerily so as he seems to absorb what you've just thrown at him. Until he speaks,

"That night I showed back up- Do you really think I'd let something like that happen to you? Do you think I could livewith myself?"

You're turned away from him now. You can't stand to look at him, a position you've found yourself in more and more lately. 

"You've done much worse."

He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out. He takes a step forward, inching closer to you. He's so close that you can faintly hear his beating heart. You're looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. "I came back because I care about you,"

"I can live with the things I've done. If you can't, say the word."

There's a seething tone on the end of his sentence. You don't get a chance to reply before he walks out the door, slamming it shut.

━

You've taken to wine more than you'd like to in his daily absence. It doesn't burn going down the way that liquor does, and it's a much easier purchase to justify than a bottle of vodka. And it doesn't leave you completely out of your mind, not like the shots had the night that Edward had shown back up.

You're suffering internally. You should've turned him away that night.

Instead you let him in your home and into your mind and into your heart, and now he's burrowed himself so deep it feels like cutting out a vital organ to send him away.

He's barely been home since your argument, and you almost wish he would've just never shown back up after he left. It'd make it easier on you. Only for a fleeting moment. The times he is home, he smells like smoke and iron, and has that same dull look in his eyes. He crashes before you even have a moment to make small talk. 

You've reached your breaking point when he finds you sitting at the dining table later into the night when he returns, gloves still on, overcoat shed. He stops in his tracks. "Hey. It's late." You can see the worry in his face as he simply stares at you. The opened bottle of wine is visible on the table in front of you.

"I have to leave, Edward."

Please, don't let me go.

He stands and stares at you with his hands tucked together in front of him. He looks so small. Almost childlike, as if he's listening to a parent speak to him about their issues with his behavior.

"I have to move on from- this. You should too."

Dear God, follow me forever.

You told yourself you wouldn't cry, but you can already feel your eyes stinging. You're so defeated. So broken. So sad. He breaks the silence and the look on his face makes you want to fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness, and for a moment you think you might.

"Okay. I can leave tonight."

You shake your head. "No. Don't, not yet." He furrows his brows, confused. "Please, let me be the one to leave this time." He nods slowly. He moves a step forward as if he wants to touch you but instead just continues to keep his hand pressed to his body. It's almost as if he's scared to touch you, so you take the initiative and curl your arms around him, burying your face into his chest.

You take in the way that he smells. So familiar, so comforting. You try to push down the thoughts that inevitably a day is going to come where you won't even be able to recall the way he smelled. You don't want to let go, ever. In the back of your mind there's no doubt that he's the one for you, but there's also no doubt that this affair will destroy you. It already is. You have to make this choice- for the both of you. So you do.

You eat dinner together late into the night, and it feels like a last meal before an all too soon death. Not much is said between the two of you. But as soon as you finish your dinners you're heading to bed. He doesn't come with you at first. He stays glued to his spot on the couch, and for a second you think he might opt to sleep there for the night. That is until you feel his side of the bed dip.

Warm arms wrap around you and he's pulling you into him. Your bodies are firmly pressed together and he's so so warm. His lips are pressed to your neck, placing gentle and sleepy kisses to the skin. You feel tears slip from your eyes and onto the pillow beneath your face.

"I really wish things were different."

You feel him sigh against you. You continue, "I wish this was possible." You turn to face him, although you hate to. You want to take in his features. You want to burn them into the back of your eyelids forever. You want to forget he even existed. He looks at you with a straight face. 

"You'll find someone else, and you'll forget about me."

And your heart breaks the second the words leave his mouth. You shake your head as you start to cry. It feels like he's reached into your ribcage and pulled your heart out of your chest. "The life I am living is not fair to you." And it's still beating in his bloodied hand.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forget about you."

It wouldn’t matter how hard you tried.

His hand brushes the side of your head. "I wish you would." You furrow your brows as he continues, "You deserve someone who can be there for you."

He looks at your face as you weep. He looks as if he's trying to stop himself from feeling any emotion, possibly for your sake. You wipe your tears and speak again.

"I'm gonna try to find a new place. I can’t be here anymore. You can stay here until I leave and then-"

He looks at you for a moment before nodding. You brush a hand through his hair, pushing away strands that have fallen into his face.

"I love you, Edward."

He whispers back,

"I love you too."

You let yourself fall asleep, comfortably wrapped in his embrace. You can almost convince yourself it’s a normal night, that tomorrow will be the same routine. Edward will be gone when you wake up, and you will inevitably wait up for him in the night.

But when you wake up, you find that the warmth of his arms is gone and his side of the bed is empty and cold. You slowly raise from your bed.

"Eddie?"

Something in your gut feels wrong, and your instinct is right as you find the tiny slip of paper where he always left it. It's different this time, not a promise to be back or an indicator that you might meet again. 

I love you, always. Be safe. -E.

━

He was here and then he wasn’t. He left just as suddenly as he had appeared. 

You had pushed him away and yet you still felt the pain of how easily he had agreed. Although you suppose you shouldn't be too offended. He had respected your boundaries easier than any other person you had allowed into your life, aside from the unhinged behavior he carried around behind the mask and coat.

Edward Nashton had always been one to accept that things weren’t laid out in his favor. He’d been arrogant in the time that you knew him, but you’d seen how easily he accepted consequences of his own actions.

And this was a consequence, no matter how much it hurt your feelings. 

In his absence, you’d kicked your feet on the process of getting the hell out of this town, and instead let your mundane routine continue. You go to work. You come home. You eat dinner. You try not to stare at the latched door, almost expecting it to open. 

You tried to do as he had wished. To move on and find someone to fill that void in your life. You had joined a dating app, praying and hoping that the perfect person would show up and take you away from it all.

And you do find a nice man. A man who is willing to take you out and get to know you. A man who is probably stable and would take good care of you. You let yourself enjoy dinner, you laugh, you joke, but as he walks you home and grabs your hand, you feel the ache growing in your chest.

He kisses you before you head into your apartment, and it throws you into a frenzy. You can only think of familiar soft lips and your vision is blurring the man's face with the image of shaggy hair and clear framed glasses. You stumble back and let out a quick "I- I can't." before frantically running into your apartment.

You let your body slide down the front door until you're sat on the ground in front of it. You tuck your head into your knees and sob. 

It’s time to accept the fact that your life may never be normal as long as you stay here. With Gotham so horribly close. With the ghosts of your past following you around this miserable town. 

You pack everything and leave within the next week. You head to the coast, hoping the warmer weather will cure the ache in your bones.

━

You find the coast to be the most stable you've ever lived. You've managed yourself another office job with better management than you could've ever imagined at KTMJ. You've made some decent friends with coworkers. 

You like to think it's the warm weather and the rays of sun that have turned your life around. The frigid cold always had a way of putting you down.

Your therapist always laughs at this sentiment. 

You've found cute little corner diners to sip coffee and take a breath in. The grumpy old women that work there are just enough to make you feel right at home.

"You're from Jersey?"

You nod as you take a sip from the mug the waitress had handed you. She hums, "My family is from Jersey."

"How'd you end up here?"

She shrugs. "Married some guy, followed him here, got a divorce, but I never wanted to leave." She meets your amused look with a slight chuckle. She's got just the right energy to make you feel comfortable and it's nice opening up to someone, even if it's only for a moment. 

"Well, I'm happy to find someone else from Jersey. You don't meet a lot here."

She shakes her head and the bell on the front door jingles, "No you don't- Sir, I'll be right with you." She walks from the bar that you're sat at and makes her way to the table in the back corner. The booth is facing away from you, but you can make out the side of the man's head as he faces the waitress to order. You're able to make out the tiny glint of the glasses on his face and the pale scar on his cheek.

You turn back towards the mug sitting in front of you.

You smile.

[st4rnikka]

I loved your fanfic ideas! They are really good. I preferred the Agent GUN AU, I can only imagine people's reactions (especially Rouge) when they find out the truth

YOU LIKED MY IDEAS????!!QKXIK1QOXOOQLZ OMG you people liking my ideas like I'm not some crazy person makes me really happy, THANKS💙!

I'm not writing this fic (just giving the idea to whoever wants to write it) and didn't think much about how the others would react when finding out about Sonic being the GUN agent they were investigating and trying to catch a glimpse of. But I DID thought about them finding it in a very dramatic and super cool way!

Here's how I thought it would be like (forgive me for the way I'm writing I have yet to learn how to write fighting in Sonic style lmao) :

The smell of blood and smoke was everywhere, which was reasonably shocking to everyone present except to a certain cobalt hedgehog, who to both Rouge and Tails confusion and fear, that apparently were the only ones to notice, wasn't wearing his cocky smile when in such dire situations like now, instead Sonic was serious and looked very, very mad.

But looking at Sonic's point of view he wasn't mad at all, he was relaxed and waiting, for what you ask? Well for the GUN agents to appear.

Sonic realized that working as an GUN agent had it's perks, he got to eat as many chilli dogs he wanted, could do super cool stuff like being an spy, could use guns and did he mention the chilli dogs? People in GUN were actually quite nice and respectful, Sonic was not an total idiot and knew the reason was because he had just easily surpassed their best agents in rank in just 2 days, but couldn't care less about it to be honest, the thing was that they would obey his every command -if job related of course - and he made sure to keep that in mind if necessary.

Which was 2 weeks ago before their current situation, with even Shadow having trouble defeating a single badnik.

2 weeks ago during one of his daily missions, he was given the task to invade one of Eggman's many bases and retrieve data from there. But he didn't just retrieve data, deciding to play around a little bit Sonic found something quite concerning that Egghead was planning, something that made Sonic go straight to GUN headquarters to talk to the commander personally about his finding. Both of them had come to an agreement on how to resolve the situation, with Sonic hesitantly agreeing on taking care of this in a quiet manner.

That being said, what did Sonic find? He found an certain experiment that Eggman was working on, a creature with enough power and energy to be used as an battery to strengthen his all his robots to an absurd level. Both Sonic and the commander worked - surprisinly - together to find a way of resolving the problem and 2 weeks after they found a way.

That being said here we are again, all of Sonic's friends tired and hurt from the brutal fight that still continues, until helicopters sounds are heard and the badniks are destroyed one by one easily. Now capable of actually stopping for a moment Rouge, Tails, Shadow, Amy, Knuckles and Omega all look up to find GUN agents helping them with the problem at hand, they were in fact very shocked.

Especially Rouge and Shadow for both of them, weren't aware of GUN knowing about said problem before it even happened. The helicopters land and the agents keep shooting at the badniks, one of them goes to the group, Shadow and Rouge expecting said agent to go talk to them but instead she looks AT SONIC and proceeds to talk to HIM.

"Aeolus, agent Raven reporting to you, the mission was a success, the commander congratulates you for your patience. Also he needs you to take care of the creature that the doctor created." Raven said tensely looking at Sonic mad expression. That is until he smiled happily nodded and responded "Damn he's already giving me more work to do? This old man, thanks for the report Raven, you can go now." His responde was welcomed by a relieved agent Raven that leaved to do her job and a very loud "HUUUUHHH??!!!!!!" from his friends.

Sonic looked at their confused expressions, and Shadow and Rouge very fiery glares and smiled sheepily "YOU'RE AGENT AEOLUS?! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME???!!!!" Screamed Rouge, she was not having this, months of investigation just to the damn agent she was searching for to be right under her nose. By her side Shadow was staring at him, Sonic swears that if looks could kill he would be dead cause Shadow was looking really mad right now, and Tails too, and Amy and Knuckles....

He was so dead.

That's how I think it would go, also Shadow being mad at Sonic for an entire different reason cause I can a 100% think that Sonic was in fact a suspect of being Aeolus in Rouge list but she had him removed because according to Shadow "Sonic is too dumb to be agent Aeolus, also he would never work with GUN. And Aeolus is skilled, unlike him." with SONIC there hearing everything, my guy admited Sonic had skill without knowing🤣

That's it, hope it was accordinly to your imagination? Sorry for my shitty writing, still have to get better at writing Sonic characters and grow accustomed to some words that are important to Sonic fics💙.

[dimension-20-every-introduction]

Everyone Introduced in Dimension 20's Fantasy High: Junior Year episode 17

[so-called-quail]

'Trapped in the end!' said Sam bitterly, his anger rising again above weariness and despair. 'Gnats in a net. May the curse of Faramir bite that Gollum and bite him quick!' 'That would not help us now,' said Frodo.

Sword in hand Sam went after him. For the moment he had forgotten everything else but the red fury in his brain and the desire to kill Gollum. But before he could overtake him, Gollum was gone. Then as the dark hole stood before him and the stench came out to meet him, like a clap of thunder the thought of Frodo and the monster smote upon Sam's mind.

Now he tried to find strength to tear himself away and go on a lonely journey – for vengeance. If once he could go, his anger would bear him down all the roads of the world, pursuing, until he had him at last: Gollum. Then Gollum would die in a corner. But that was not what he had set out to do. It would not be worth while to leave his master for that. It would not bring him back. Nothing would.

Sam and vengeance in today's entry

[cxpperhead]

The sound of somebody choking on their own blood is rarely pleasant. Fortunately for his victim, Copperhead can at least make it quick, his brutal claws tearing into their jugular so that shock is imminent once blood starts spraying. It's not his preferred modus operandi, to be so heavy-handed in his deeds but after last night he knew that time was of the essence to start laying a false trail of his own. A trail of warm blood, gore and ichor.

[apocalypticdemon]

finally did my goddamn dishes. and that wasn't all i managed to do today. fuck yeah.

had a meeting for thesis prep. bmv trip. rough plan for friday's discussion lecture. cooked dinner for the first time in like 3 weeks. read ~50 pages of academic text for 2 classes and a paper revision.

feels like i didn't do enough but. considering that yesterday i managed... going to classes and nothing else! and monday i was only capable of doing the required meetings i had, this is a pretty good day!

[vulpinesaint]

actually going to throw the hugest fit over my parents making me do dishes. i am HAPPY to do dishes on assigned nights. it's FINE. i hate it so much but i'll get it done and if i'm having constant breakdowns over it then like. idk. maybe that's another issue that you should be looking into but it doesn't mean that i'm not up for doing the dishes. but now my mom wants to have the five of us just. do the dishes on a rotation? which is FUCKED cause i have SHIT to do! the fuck happens when i have dnd? or want to go out with a friend? or have class until late? literally worst fucking idea on earth i can do the fucking dishes but i have to be PREPARED for it. for instance don't make it so every other week i'll be fucking Doing something when it's my night to do the dishes

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

wait, Derin how did your leaving make the hospital shut down?

I used to work as a live-in nanny for a pediatrician.

Now, the thing about hospitals in my country is that they are massively understaffed and massively underfunded. This is especially true outside the major cities. The staff are worked to the bone and receive little to no help in things like finding accommodation or childcare, making working in rural areas a very uninviting prospect; staff come out here, get lumped with the work of three people (because there's nobody else to do it), burn out under the workload and leave, meaning that those remaining have even more work because that person is gone. It's unsustainable and the medical staff are doing their best to sustain it, because people die if they don't, so to the higher-ups it looks like everything's getting done and therefore everything is fine.

My friend (and boss) worked one week on, one week off, swapping out with another pediatrician. This was necessary because it would not be physically possible for one person to handle the workload for longer periods of time. The one single pediatrician had to hold up the entire pediatrics ward, which was not only the only public hospital pediatrics ward in our town, but also the one that served all the towns around us for a few hours' drive in all directions. I regularly saw her go to work sick, aching, tired, or with a debilitating 'I can barely make words or see' level migraine, because if she took a day off, twenty children didn't get healthcare that day, and some of these kids' appointments were scheduled weeks in advance. She'd work long hours in the day and then be called in a couple of times overnight for an hour or two at a time (she was on-call at night too, because somebody had to be), and then go in the next day. Sometimes she would be forced to take a day off because she physically could not stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, meaning she couldn't drive to work.

Cue my niece's second birthday coming up in Melbourne. I'd been working for her for about 3 years, and she (and the hospital) had plenty of advance warning that I (and therefore she) needed one (1) Friday off. That's fine, we'll find someone to work that Friday, the hospital said. Right up until the last week where they're like "oh, we can't find a replacement; you can come in, can't you?"

No, she tells them; I don't have anyone to watch my kid that day.

Oh, surely you can hire a babysitter for this one day, they say. Think of the children! We really really need you to work that day. I know we said it'd be fine but we need you now, there's no one else to do it.

There are no other babysitters, she told them. Unless you can find one?

That's not our responsibility, they said.

But I'm not changing my plans, she's got plans by now as well, the hospital knew about this one day weeks in advance, and with absolutely no reserve staff they're forced to reschedule all pediatrics appointments for that Friday. Not a huge deal, it happens on the 'physically too overworked to get out of bed' days too. I go to Melbourne, she goes back to her home in Adelaide for her recovery week, all should be on track.

My niece gives me Covid.

This was way back in the first wave of the pandemic, and there were no Covid vaccines yet. The rules were isolate, mask up, hope. I had Covid in the house, and it would've been madness for my friend and her toddler to come back into the Covid house instead of staying in Adelaide. There was absolutely no way that a pediatrician could live with someone in quarantine due to Covid and go to work in the hospital with sick children every day. And no support existed for finding another babysitter, or temporary accommodation, so the hospital was down a pediatrician.

The other pediatrician wasn't available to do a three-week stint. They were also trapped in Adelaide on their well-earned week off.

Meaning that the only major pediatrics ward within a several-hour radius had no pediatricians. They had to shut down and send all urgent cases to Adelaide for the week. To the complete absence of surprise of any of the doctors or nurses; of course this would happen, this was bound to happen, it presumably keeps happening. But probably to the surprise of the higher-ups. After all, the hospital was doing fine, right? Of course all the staff were complaining of overwork and a lack of resources in every meeting, but they could always be fobbed off with the promise of more help sometime in the future; the work was mostly getting done, so the issue couldn't be too urgent.

It's not like some nanny who doesn't even work for the hospital could go out of town for a weekend for the first time in three years, and get the only public pediatrics ward in the area shut down for a week.

[your-internet-bf]

We hadn't always gotten along. When our parents got married, we could barely stand each other. How could we get along with some brat we barely knew? Luckily, I had an idea. I bought a clicker - you know, the one they use to train dogs? - and got to work.

I started with "thank you". Every time you said it, maybe at dinner, in the car, at a restaurant, I pressed the clicker. You couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, and nobody else seemed to know what you were talking about. But soon, I started helping you with chores around the house and when we finished, *click*. And without really thinking about it, you'd say "thank you."

A few months passed, and you'd started to notice things about me. I took care of myself. I was clean, and I exercised regularly. You'd hang around when you knew I'd be back from the gym just to catch a whiff of the sweat and metal on me when I returned - our eyes caught once when you got a little too close, and for the first time you saw something primal, a little dark, in my gaze. But it passed in an instant.

We started getting along better, now. So one day, when you were lying on the couch with a snack bowl, I snatched it up and motioned to throw it into your mouth. Well, innocent enough, right? And it wasn't like I was eating much, so it's fine, right? Every time you open your mouth to catch, *click*, *click*, *click*.

Then, I invited you to come work out with me. Every time you did a squat, *click*. I told you it was a metronome to keep your intensity up, but you noticed the bulge in my sweatpants was bigger than usual. Wait, when did you start noticing my bulge, especially enough to know that...?

Finally, it was time. I'd been listening outside your bedroom door for weeks now, and I knew when you'd be asleep. I quietly opened your door and stepped into your room, locking it behind me. You stirred at the sound of the lock clicking, but I wasn't afraid.

I gingerly pulled down the covers and just... stared for a while. I'd never taken the time to really look at how beautiful you are, how gorgeous those curves were. I could hardly stand it. As you lay on your side, I took out the clicker, and *click* it once. Laying on your side, like you were on the couch with the snacks, you obediently open your mouth.

I pull down my pants, my long, thick cock swinging between my thighs. I brush the back of my hand over your cheek, then set it firmly against the back of your head, and push into your mouth.

You wake up almost immediately, but my hand stops you from pulling back as I force inch after throbbing inch down your throat. The more you struggle, the tighter you feel, the harder I push, until you felt your nose press into my hips. You push as hard as you can against me, but I'm so much bigger and stronger than you it doesn't do anything. I don't even budge.

I start to grind into your skull, making you swallow the thick, heavy head of my cock again and again, as I groan in pleasure. I start thrusting harder and harder, making your eyes water as I slam my hips into your face again and again, until finally, mercifully, I release inside you, deep inside your throat. You feel me pulse with your whole mouth, and you struggle to swallow each load of thick, hot, sticky cum while I'm still inside you.

With a shuddering breath, I pull out, letting you breathe properly for the first time in minutes. I watch while you cough and catch your breath, and then I ask, "what do you say?"

You breathe in intending to scream, but then you hear it, just one soft *click*, and all you can say is "thank you".

You stare at me, confused. I wipe my cum off your chin with my thumb, and *click* again. "Thank you", you say.

"I knew it. You're such a good girl, aren't you? Now," I push you onto your back, "spread for me."

*click*

You raise your legs to either side, exactly like you're doing a squat.

"I don't - I don't understand," you whimper, legs still in the air.

"You don't have to," I reply, reaching one hand between your legs to feel how wet you are.

"You're soaking, little girl," as I bring my hand up for you to see... Then make you taste it. I reach back down and slip in two of my thick, strong fingers, and cover your mouth with my other hand as you moan. I press up in just the right spot, rubbing in tight, quick circles so deliciously that you can't help but arch your back and grind into me. You feel the pleasure build and all thought leaves your mind; the only thing that matters is my fingers inside you, the scent of my hand over your mouth, and the lingering taste of me.

But before you can finish I pull my fingers out, pressing up and out, leaving you twitching and gasping. "Not yet," I mutter, and I move myself down between your legs. I line up my cock, slapping it down on your tummy first. It reaches your navel, and you feel a wave of fear that only makes you wetter. I pull back, then start pushing in.

It's thick, thick, thick, and heavy. I stretch you out wider than you thought possible, pressuring you in every direction, spreading your aching cunt and making you feel full inside for the first time in your life. Long, deep strokes, moving your whole body with every thrust, reaching inside you, my breath coming fast and hard.

And you hear it again.

*click*

"Thank you," you choke out between sobs.

*click*

"Thank you," you moan.

*click*

"Thank you," you plead, tears in your eyes.

My strokes come faster now, slamming inside you like an animal as you continue to thank me for raping you. Finally, finally, finally, you feel me tense up and slam deep, deep, deep inside you, pressing your whole body into the bed, as I cum again. Huge, hot, sticky white loads of my cum shoot inside you, filling you, as my breath comes in gasps, and as I do you feel it too, now, the wave of pleasure cresting, and you cum, your legs squeezing together, your face screwed tight, moaning with the release of months of tension. And as you cum, you hear a new sound, a familiar sound, but it's deeper than the others...

*click*

And you cum harder, knowing I'm training you like a bitch in heat.

I climb up next to you, and just gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I smile. "Let's go again."

*click*