#and yeah lets just ignore that and waste what little money we have

[tragedy-of-commons]

"Do you ever think about that drunken kiss we shared?" + Dan Heng

"Do you ever think about that drunken kiss we shared?"

Dan Heng thinks you're trying to kill him.

Yes, that must be it, he lets the swarm of butterflies flapping around in his gut reason for a little too long. Surely, you're an assassin sent to kill him, cunningly playing the long game - only to one day give him a heart attack so he'll croak and you can collect your money.

(Honestly, he'd rather you don't drag the process out. But Dan Heng has never taken you for merciful, and your entirely evil expression only serves to confirm that hunch.)

The tips of his ears burn red. "Why do you insist on bringing that up?"

"Come on," you huff, elbowing him in the side with no real force, "you gotta answer the question, love. And keeping record of the past is always a good thing, right? You're always wading knee-deep in the archives, so I'm sure you'd understand."

There you are with your strange comparisons and too-close-but-not-too-close-since-you're-dating pet names. Even so, how in the world is he supposed to respond? Honesty cannot be the best policy, not when his answer will be something along the lines of 'Yes, I do think about that kiss often. Almost everyday, in fact, considering it's the best thing that's ever happened to me.'

But Dan Heng doesn't say any of that (of course he doesn't). Instead, his gaze drops back down to the table where you're both currently sitting - where he'd been mindlessly scrolling through his messages moments before you decided to throw him off kilter. It's way too early for this.

You continue to babble on, taking his silence as the admission of guilt that it is. "We were running around the Luofu, those Knight people hot on our tails, but after my work on your genius disguise, I finally convinced you to lighten up and have some fun. I dragged you to that stall, remember?"

How could he forget? Even when his past was nipping at his heels and ready to take a wolfish bite out of him, you'd found a way to insist on all play and no work. Even more debasing, he went along with it.

"I remember. You... the shopkeeper sold us that bottle, and since it was broad daylight in a nice area, we assumed it was nonalcoholic and just... drank it, right there in the central square," Dan Heng recalls.

You laugh, loud and bright. He feels like vomiting from the mortification he's constantly subjected to in your presence.

"Yeah! It didn't even taste alcoholic. Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't notice anything sooner - you're normally pretty sharp. We started getting suspicious after all those nasty looks, though..."

He remembers that too, but what you neglect to mention, thank the stars and everything that hasn't screwed him over, is that he was completely and utterly distracted. Dan Heng isn't one for such flowery language, but from his only somewhat muddled recollection, he was totally entranced.

It was probably his overlooked inebriation, but he found himself fixated on the plush of your lips. As you rambled on about how pretty the scenery was, he could only think about how pretty you were. As much as you'd disagree with him, he isn't as oblivious as to have ignored all the signs of his growing fondness for you.

The mystery alcohol gave him the push he needed then. For just a moment, Dan Heng wishes he had some liquid courage right now to get through this hellish conversation. "Yes. Everything was warm, and I kissed you."

You gasp, scandalized. The table wobbles as you kick your feet up to rest on the polished wood, somehow lax. "Hey, give yourself some credit! Even when you were practically wasted, you still did that cheesy romance movie thing and asked for permission."

His eye jumps. Aeons above. "I wasn't aware asking for consent was a 'cheesy romance movie thing'."

"I'm not talking about that," you snort, getting that look on your face when you're about to lay down a trump card of some kind, destroying the many layers of defenses he's spent the entirety of this life painstakingly building up. "I'm talking about when you tilted my chin up and looked into my eyes! You've never been that romantic since! Oh, Dan Heng, what a heartthrob you were, a real dreamboat--"

He whispers your name, voice brittle like glass.

"Sorry," you say, the apology quite genuine by your standards. The teasing grin you sported moments earlier has all but disappeared, replaced by a soft smile that makes all of the theatrics worth it. "But I can't help but reminisce. I cherish the memory dearly, you know."

Dan Heng swallows. "I know. I do too."

He does. Hopefully, one day, he'll be able to surprise you like that again. As you take his hand in yours, both of you falling back into comfortable silence, electricity crackles inside the confines of his chest.

Yes, you're surely going to be the death of him.

(Like he'd have it any other way.)

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren, @https-sourlimes

a/n: anon, i fear you've killed everything i know and love... i adored this prompt and writing it! dan heng is a special kind of soggy and i hope i did him justice.

event post here

[erwinsvow]

“yeah, you want that one?” rafe asks you, while you browse through the dresses on the rack. the one you’ve picked out to show him is yellow gingham, with skinny straps and a bow on the neckline. you hold the dress to your chest, looking down to see where it’ll end on you. “i’ll get it for you.”

“hm…” you consider the idea for a moment, holding the dress out again to get a better look. “i don’t know. it’s pretty short.”

“since when is that a bad thing?” rafe moves his arm against the rack, manhandling the hanger from your hand and holding it against you himself. “think it’s perfect.” you laugh at your boyfriend’s antics.

“there has to be a reason to wear it, rafe. i don’t have any right now.”

“we’ll go to dinner. there’s your reason.”

“i have other dresses,” you decide finally, putting it back between the others.

“c’mon, just let me get it for you.” he follows you while you walk away and wander towards the jewelry section of the store. you look down at sparkling silver and shimmery gold, while rafe joins you and leans against the glass counter. “you want jewelry instead? that’s fine.”

“no, i’m just looking,” you insist again. “it’s called window shopping. ever heard of it? 

there’s pretty things in the case, a silver bracelet with little blue stones that particularly catches your eye since blue is your new favorite color, but you don’t really want anything, and you really don’t want rafe to buy it for you.

“no. just pick somethin’ out. my treat.” you glance up at rafe.

“for what? i haven’t done anything.” he laughs to himself, not necessarily at you, more because of you.

“i don’t need a reason.” he makes you flush, so you walk away again, this time to the shoes. you hold a pair of brown sandals in your hand, flipping them over to see the size.

“you already treated me, remember? you paid for lunch.” rafe grabs the shoes out of your hands too.

“that’s a meal, not a treat. want these?” he looks down at you, not even sparing a glance to the price tag. “c’mon.” you grab his wrist as fast as you can.

“no! no. i have some just like these. it’ll be a waste, i’ll never wear them.”

“are you bein’ serious or are you just sayin’ that?” damn it. you are just saying it, since you don’t want rafe spending his money on you. you lie to cover your tracks.

“serious. i’d never lie to you.”

you wrestle the shoes out of his hand, settling them back on the shelf. 

“fine. c’mon, we can go somewhere else.” you finally let him buy you an ice cream cone just so he’ll stop offering.

you try to explain to rafe that the reason you want to walk around is to look around and spend time with him, not to really buy things, but he’s hard to convince. 

rafe thinks you need to stop being so worried about what everyone will think. you’re still bad at it, trying to ignore that part of you that murmurs in your ear that people will judge you for all these nice, new things rafe wants to buy you. you think people will say you’re dating him for the money, but worse than that, you think people will say bad things about rafe, about his choice in dating you, if you ever make him buy you more than dinner or ice cream.

your hesitancy gets the best of you, and even though you’ve always had some nice things, being pampered by rafe feels inherently wrong, like you should at least make sure he knows he doesn’t need to buy you anything. lost in your own thoughts, you’ve rejected his offers countless times, and the only new, expensive thing he’s gotten you since you started dating is the R necklace you wear everyday. 

you think you’re good at hiding it, but you’re not. rafe sees right through you, and he knows what he’s going to do about it. 

later that week, rafe drops you off at home in the morning after you slept over. you still think he hates driving in the cut—as much as he denies it—but he refuses to let you bike back and forth to tannyhill. 

“i’ll pick you up for dinner.” he says, leaning across you to open the passenger side door. you flush like you always do, partly because he’s not asking, he’s telling.

you nod, and then wave bye from the window. he waits until you get inside to drive away, which makes you want to go scream into your pillow. you head into your room to do just that, but you’re greeted instead by bags and boxes littered across your bed.

you know what they are, even before you walk over on your wobbly knees and set aside the tissue paper, looking down with watery eyes all the things you had been admiring in the store the other day with rafe. you sit down next to them—the yellow dress, the pretty sandals, the glittery bracelet—and dial rafe’s number on your phone. you exhale shaky breaths while the line rings, but can’t hold back tears any longer when he answers.

“you didn’t have to do this,” you say quietly into the phone, biting your cheek. you try to blink away the new tears.

“do what?” you laugh, so rafe laughs too. 

“i…i feel bad when you buy me things.”

“i know. y’should stop that.”

“or you can stop first.”

“i’m never gonna stop.” you suck in a breath, heart thudding and feeling deliriously in love. “gonna come get you later. wear the new stuff, okay?”

“okay. i will.”

“that’s my girl.” you fall back and let your head hit the pillow.

[rdng1230]

Sal Deluca Meta

Okie dokie here we go. Just remember y'all asked for this.

Here are some repeated talking points I’ve seen about Sal and why I think most of them are ignoring certain contexts or misattributing things to Sal that were said/done by somebody else. Also just general thoughts about our little mook.

Hen Begins

That Sal was a raging racist/sexist/homophobic. 

Let’s deal with the first one first. Is he a member of the white boys club? Absolutely. He makes no effort to include Hen and doesn’t really acknowledge her at all until he’s complimenting her for her skills at the end of the episode. This is OBVIOUSLY not good. He should’ve been kinder and more welcoming to her. But the only one who specifically makes negative/mean comments about Hen is Gerrard and Tommy. Literally the only thing you could even interpret that way is him saying “for real?” to Gerrard’s diversity hire comment and the fact that he drops the pick axe or whatever the hell that metal thing was on the floor along with everybody else besides Chim. Not great, but also with what we know about how other rookies are treated even by Hen herself, I don’t think any of this behavior falls into “irredeemable racist monster” Buck chased Ravi with a chainsaw for christ sake. 

Ok now the sexism. He actually stares daggers at Gerrard for the entirety of his stupid “waste of taxpayer money/women won’t be able to rescue my guys” spiel. Like the camera specifically focuses on Sal looking pissed as hell. Another thing I’ve heard falsely said is that after Gerrard storms off, Sal/Tommy follow him. That’s not true. They do get up and leave but they actually leave in the ass opposite direction. Sal’s face when he signals to Tommy to get up reads to me as “let’s get the hell away from the fallout of that grossness.” not “I agree with what that dinosaur just said.” But I also realize people can interpret that moment differently. 

I think the sexist reading largely comes from the Kristen Stewart conversation. And come on, This is the lesbian website, if we start dinging people for finding Kristen Stewart attractive, we’re all going down. Plus again, Buck was STEALING EMERGENCY EQUIPMENT TO GO GET LAID AND HE’S EVERYBODY’S FAV SO I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT. We see Sal kind of ignore Hen but also agree with her at the same time during this exchange. Again a case of Sal not really acknowledging Hen but not attacking her either. Go and look at his face when Tommy says that NY bitchiness comment. Sal does not look at all happy with him. Most of the time when anyone is being actively mean Sal looks pissed off, not approving.

Ok now the homophobia thing. And it's at this point I’m going to bring up the idea that some characters seem bad/good not based on their actions but on whose perspective we’re viewing those actions from. I see this being a problem with several characters. Most notably Taylor Kelly. But that's a whole other post. 

Sal’s team Jacob comment is homophobic and gross but it's also 1) 2009 and 2) directed at someone who he clearly knows incredibly well and who we KNOW gives as good as he gets. I easily could’ve seen this interaction reversed with Tommy saying that to Sal because that's who they are and how their friendship works. But because we’re seeing this from Hen’s perspective it's another thing that makes her feel isolated and othered. And again THAT IS NOT GOOD SAL SHOULD NOT BE DOING THAT. But I don’t think Sal at all said that with the intention of putting Hen down, it very clearly reads to me as Sal teasing/riling Tommy up as they always have. Now obviously the harm still hits even if the intent wasn’t present. But I think if we can forgive Tommy for comments that were MEANT to be mean, then we can forgive Sal for comments that were just him fucking around with his best friend of several years. 

That Sal was the ringleader or Gerrard’s right hand man

Does Sal have a sort of in charge vibe? Yeah absolutely. But very notably the only thing he actually initiates is the olive branch. It’s him that offers a hand to Hen and says nice job and you’re good at what you do. I also will die on the hill that the hemorrhoid complaint was his. Chim would definitely say that but not in an official report, Tommy would definitely bad mouth Gerrard, but not like that. Now who is known for kind of cruder language and a short fuse and absolutely would put that down in an official report? Sal motherfucking Deluca that’s who. 

One notable thing that I find interesting is that Hen herself distinguishes Gerrard’s behavior from the rest of the team's. She definitely gives them hell during her big speech but when Chim does dishes with her she specifically says men like him not men like them. Just something I realized on my most recent rewatch. 

To summarize, the only real thing Sal did that was unique to him (because they all failed to stick up for Hen, yes even Chim. Chim was nice to her but he never actually stood up for her to Gerrard’s face. He tried to redirect the conversation a couple times but that was it.) was the Kristen stewart comments and the Team Jacob comment. I would argue Tommy’s comments in Chimney begins and his NY bitchiness comment in Hen Begins are way more targeted, hateful, and fucking rude. (said with all love because we know Tommy had a bunch of growth and change and became the man we all know and adore.) IMO nothing in Hen begins that Sal says/does is as bad as what Tommy did/said.

Bobby Begins Again

Ok another reason why I don’t think Sal is this irredeemable sexist/racist/homophobic pig is WHY ON EARTH WOULD HEN STAND UP FOR HIM IF HE WAS???!?!?!? Hen is THE FIRST PERSON TO CALL OUT THAT CRAP even from the first episode she says something like “why is that always the first instinct with you whiteboy macho types?” So why why why why would she stand up for Sal if he hadn’t shown any improvement in that area in the now 7 years minimum that she’s worked with him. Answer: she fucking wouldn’t. Ok moving on.

The Bobby stuff

So remember how I said perspective changes everything? This is the major reason why. We as the audience love Bobby and know intimately the struggles he’s faced, so we’re naturally going to be angered by anyone who is antagonistic towards him. The thing is Sal doesn’t know ANY of that. This is what Sal knows about Bobby.

He’s from somewhere in middle America and has never worked in a MAJOR American city like LA/NYC. That’s it. He COMPLETELY ACCURATELY I MIGHT ADD predicts that anybody with that background will struggle to adapt to the specifics of LA. It’s Sal that has to pick up Bobby’s slack as he adjusts, calling out the shots at the tree trimmer call, taking the initiative with Maurice even though Bobby does ultimately do the saving. (Which Sal actually seems impressed by btw.) Bobby still can’t even read the city map when they pull up to the restaurant fire call. 

Now imagine you’re Sal. First you had Gerrard as captain, who (I think it's fair to say) you DID NOT LIKE. One of the things he did was put down firefighters who disobeyed orders by rescuing people. We saw this with the “fetching a tide” call and with saving the boy in the submerged car. Hen disobeyed orders but showed real skill as a firefighter. And all she got for her troubles was being berated by her Captain. 

Ok then after Gerrard you have an interim captain that seems like a decent dude, but he leaves and for a while you have a revolving door of retiring brass that are checked out, behind the times, or just generally disengaged. You become used to filling in as captain and get actually pretty damn good at managing the team. (I say this because Sal leads the team several times in BBA and nobody looks at all like this is a new development) Then they finally pick a nobody who has never worked in a proper city before and to you he’s just the newest asshole that will probably screw up and get someone killed. Sal has no idea about the challenges or traumas Bobby has had to face, just like we have no idea what might have happened in the 5+ years between HB and BBA. Sal has probably MANY REASONS not to trust Bobby that we don’t know about. 

So how would you feel after you’ve successfully rescued a teenage boy’s life, if your new captain who you’ve known for like a day and still doesn’t even know how to get the engine to calls on time, calls YOU stupid for SUCCESSFULLY SAVING A CHILD’S LIFE. I think you’d be likely to blow up a little too. 

Was Sal a hothead? Absolutely. Was he being smart by mouthing off to Bobby? Absolutely not. But I think his lines to Bobby during that scene are so telling. “You’re just the latest jag off in a long line of jag offs to come to this house and think you know how to run it.” In other words, he’s not really seeing Bobby during this exchange (he couldn’t possibly, Bobby is still being very closed off and won’t tell anyone what his story is for years) he’s seeing the long line of assholes that started with Gerrard that Bobby is unknowingly falling into the pattern of. Just like how Bobby didn’t really see Sal and one relatively tiny restaurant, he saw his wife and family and a massive apartment building with no way out. That to me is the tragedy of Bobby and Sal. I genuinely think they could’ve learned a lot from each other if they had left their baggage at the door. 

In other words, would we judge Sal if he had gone after Gerrard in the way he went after Bobby? I doubt it. And that to me is what Sal is actually doing, going after Gerrard and all the other nameless asshole captains he’s been dealing with for YEARS. Sal was hotheaded and impulsive, but at the end of the day I think he was just dealing with misplaced anger that he put on Bobby, something both Buck and Eddie have done at some point or another even when they DID have all the information. If you can forgive the lawsuit arc, and Eddie’s comments in season 5 about Bobby’s kill count than dear god I think Sal has more than earned a pass. 

Overarching things I find interesting about Sal that I don’t see anyone talking about 

He cares a lot about the people they save on rescues, he’s the one on the majority of calls saying some variant of “its gonna be ok/we’re gonna get you out/don’t worry. Whatever the firefighter equivalent of bedside manner is, this guy has it. 

His personal code of who he gives a shit about seems to boil down entirely to who has skills/is talented and who isn’t. The minute Hen shows real promise by saving that little boy, he is down there hand shaking and complimenting her. Ditto Freddie Costas. “Smart kid, probably saved his own life with that move.” You see this in his conversation with Bobby too “that wasn’t luck man that was skill.” You have to earn Sal’s respect and the way you do is by demonstrating competence. Sal genuinely does look impressed with Bobby for apprehending Maurice and showing ingenuity, the problem is it's immediately undercut when Bobby belittles him for saving the kid. 

Anywho, that’s my Sal defense thesis. There’s probably other stuff I forgot but that's the bulk of it. I reserve the right to randomly reblog this with any other shit that comes to mind. Also as a disclaimer I still LOVE reading toxic Sal or asshole Sal content, absolutely eat it up with a spoon gimme gimme gimme. But I think it would be unfair to say that’s the ONLY read of him. He clearly does give a shit and is capable of growth and change, he just also happens to have a short fuse and very little willingness to go about things in a tactful way. 

TLDR: free my man, he did do some of that shit but so did your blorbos, it's just your blorbos had the narrative on their side when they did it.

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

That song "Loser Baby" from Hazbin Hotel has been on my mind ever since I watched the video, and I'm like, ooooh, prompt idea ✨️✨️

Basically, Jason and Reader are both members of the Titans, Jason's going through some shit, thinking he's alone to deal with it because the other members never cared about his problems, so Reader is there to sort of comfort him!

WARNINGS: mentions of suicide, drug use, weaponry use

Notes: Based on HBO Titans, timelines are mixed, idk how a molotov cocktail works, just go w it, unrealistic gun use

Another day, another failed mission. Why? Jason took the impulsive decision to dive in, head first, into the first danger he saw, which led them to be ambushed by other criminals. Sure, they got the majority locked up, but now the others are spread around Gotham now trying to get backup.

And like most times, when Jason messes up now and again, the members start pointing fingers while Dick was at GCPD.

"We went through the plan a million times, kid," Hank grunts. "You wait for Dick's signal!"

"Yeah, yeah! I heard you the first time," Jason spits back. He's been hearing this ever since the whole fiasco ended up until now as everyone got back to the tower. "Get off my back, will you, at least I fuckin' tried, asshole."

"And we would've completed the mission successfully if you tried after Dick gave the cue," Kory chimes in. "You need to work on your patience."

"Whatever," Jason mumbles storming back into his room.

Just as he was, you were exiting your own room, located just beside Jason's.

"Hi, Jay, how was the- oh...kay?" Just as you were greeting the young vigilante, he ignored you, slamming his door shut.

You walk into the lobby. Though you were a member of the Titans, you didn't participate often in missions. You design and create weaponry for the other members, especially Dick and Jason, as they don't have any powers. You excused yourself from joining the missions because although you knew how and when to use your mechanics best, your combat and stealth skills aren't as advanced.

You picked up this interest of building and experimenting after a few downfalls earlier in your life before Dick found you and took you in.

You grew up on the not so upper class side of Gotham City, and you were not an intentionally planned kid. Your parents made bad decisions, weren't married, and both were struggling in their own way. But your dad soon realised that it was all too much for him. He couldn't take care of himself, let alone take care of a kid, his kid. Soon enough, he reached his limit and swallowed a few too many pills.

That's when your mom went spiralling into her own depression. She smoked more cigs, snorted more coke, and drank more alcohol. And when you were old enough to comprehend the profanity she spat at you, she figured that you were smart enough to live life on your own. So she kicked you out. Later that night, when you came back, just to double check if your mom was just on a high and didn't mean what she said, she was gone. The only evidence to prove she was there were the smashed bourbon bottles and and cigarette butts scattered across the floor.

You sat yourself on the couch, legs tucked into your chest as you wrapped your arms to secure them in place and waited patiently for your mom to come home.

But she never did.

Some bad people were after you, claiming that your mother had owed them a shit ton of money. When you told them you didn't know where she was, they said that you'd have to continue to pay back her debt. You had nowhere else to go. So every time they'd come knocking on your door, you'd bolt out through the fire escape.

You had a molotov cocktail in your hand, a little something you saw your dad do once when he was in a difficult situation such as yours. This is the first time you've tried to use it before. You're scared that saving the bottle would be a waste of time. What if you threw it and the fire just went out? What if it wouldn't have the effect you'd expect? What if it would hurt you too in the process??

You just prayed. Prayed for some sort of miracle. In your other hand, spray on deodorant that you stole from the grocery store a walk away from your apartment.

There's a recently abandoned one-story house just down the road.

Lure them there, spray the room, blow 'em up.

You repeated the plan to yourself. So many things can go wrong. You couldn't do anything but pray.

Your chest ached when you got to the building. You covered your face as you choked, inhaling the deodorant that you sprayed around the room.

"There they are!" One of the men yelled towards your direction. You waited. Just a couple seconds.

You ran out the back window as they crashed through the door. Looking back, you waited as much as you could, making sire as much of the men entered the house.

Now.

You lit the cloth on fire, using your mom's lighter, one of the things you kept, and threw it through the window. And just like that, the fire caught onto the particles of the deodorant, and as the bottle smashed to the concrete floor, the building as a whole burst into flames, the painful screams of men remaining in the house.

"Oh my god, it worked!" You said to yourself, panting as you continue to run away.

From then on, you experimented with other, easier ways to create the same kind of effect. You used scraps of metal, lead wires from lightbulbs, plus lightbulb shards to create explosives to protect you.

Soon, your knowledge of weaponry expanded. You managed to steal a gun from one of the men that were after you. You liked to know how things worked. And you liked to manipulate how they worked.

You spent your time disassembling your new gun and eventually created a new weapon of your own. You'd pretend to be too scared to use it, bad man grabs it off you, aim it at you, pulls the trigger, and boom. The bullet blows to the other end, towards their face.

Too bad luck wasn't completely on your side for long.

You screeched as you walked past an alley, your hair being grabbed and pulled by a large man. "Think you can get away from me, bitch?" A gruff voice spat.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, grasping as your scalp that's burning your skull. You heard the glint of a knife as the sharpness poked at your side.

"Please, please, no, please," you whispered, begging for your life to be spared.

"You better pray for a miracle, cunt," the man said, jabbing the knife into your side, then throwing you against the wall, leaving you to bleed out.

Your vision blurred and came to the conclusion that you were going to die.

That is... if some random stranger found you and decided to bring you back to what you found out to be "Titans Tower." Learning his name to be Richard 'Dick' Grayson understood you had no one to take care of you and that you were the one who caused that explosion. He also found your little gun, and the great detective saw how it's been rearranged.

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar area. You were bandaged up well, but you were still scared. You hissed, trying to sit up. At the same, Dick walks into the room, a trya with soup, a glass of water and a small tablet next to the glass all prepared.

Dick smiled, introducing himself and apologising for bringing you unconscious. He offered you a shelter, but also wanted to know more about you. How you ended up in the situation, who was after you, and how you managed to rearrange the gun.

He then took you under your wing, giving you your own room and even your own materials to create more weapons for yourself. These ranged from melee weapons, explosives, and hand to hand combat weapons.

Dick tried to train you in physical combat, but you admitted that no matter how hard you tried, your fighting skills won't really improve. So you offered to just create new defence weapons for the team and operate missions from the tower as the team went out.

A couple of months later, you met Jason Todd. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't attractive, and his flirtatious attitude didn't help with your attraction towards him.

You also admired how skilled he was in fighting. Fighting a person while blindfolded? Fighting two people while they're all blindfolded? You wished to be just like him. But you were too shy to talk to him.

Jason speaks before thinking, and you were scared that he'd make fun of you for being part of the Titans without knowing basic combat and stealth skills. So you avoided him as much as you could.

But your guard was down as you had your headphones on, sitting on the couch in the lobby, sketching out a design for new throwing blades that could inject a liquid into the body to knock someone out for around half an hour.

"Why do I never see you around?" A curious voice chimes. One of your headphones laid off your ear, so you flinched when you heard someone begind you.

"Uhm, I.. I don't know what you're talking about," you quietly say, not sure how to confidently talk to the attractive boy.

"You're never out on missions or in the training room. Why are you here?" He says, arms leaning on the back of the couch, face dangerously close to yours

You shrugged. "I kind of make the weapons, I guess. I got those Rs of yours to send a shock wave of electricity," you replied, trying to identify yourself.

Jason tilts his head. "So, how come I never see you around training or missions? With weapons like them, I assume you would be useful out there."

You shake your head. "Fighting isn't really my forte. And my aim is never accurate," you explain, bracing yourself for the taunts.

"Huh. Want me to teach ya?" He offers.

Your head shoots towards him. "Uhm. Thanks, but Dick already tried training me. Trust me, I'd just be wasting your time and be a pain in your ass," you say, fidgeting with the pencil in your hand, kooking away from him.

"Nah, you trust me. I can teach you way better than Dickwad can. And if you still think fighting just isn't a thing for you, we can stop."

You stare up at him for a few moments before sighing and agreeing.

Surprisingly, Jason was able to teach you the basics, but that was as far as you could learn. Nonetheless, you were grateful that Jason taught you something that you could learn. You couldn't thank him enough. In return, you designed weaponry specifically suited for his fighting style.

From then on, you and Jason developed a beautiful friendship. Unfortunately, your crush on him only grew more.

But you and Jason were always there for each other. You never ran out of stories and fun talks to chat about. And eventually, little by little, the two of you opened up about your not so different pasts.

So when Jason stormed into his room after coming back from the mission while making absolutely no contact with you, it got you worried.

"Jeez, what happened?" You say as you walk to where the other members stood.

"Jason being Jason as always," Rachel mumbles.

"Uhh, Jason was just being eager. He's been trying to solve this case for weeks," Gar tries to reason out.

"If that little shit just stuck to the plan, his case would've been solved," Hank raises his voice as Dawn tries to calm him down.

"Just be patient with him. He didn't mean it," you try to calm everyone down.

"We can't be patient with him if he himself can't be patient," Donna calls out from the fridge, grabbing a drink.

"Listen, he's been through enough already, cut him some slack," you begin to get pissed off.

"If you're referring to when he got kidnapped, that was his fault too," Rachel says, sitting down on the couch.

"You know what wasn't his fault? Drawing crosses on your mirror, Rach. And that made all of you blame him for the other shit planted in your rooms. Do you know how much that shit hurt him? And none of you didn't even apologise! So, sorry, on behalf of him, that he wanted to show he was still strong enough even after he was kidnapped and dropped from a skyscraper. But have a little decency and time to understand why he acts the way he does," you ranted, not letting anyone reply as you stormed away.

During your times spent with Jason, you didn't miss his ADHD meds lying around, and eventually, he opened up to you about his therapy talks with Leslie, and you're glad it's somewhat helping. You just wushed you would be as much helo to him.

You knocked lightly on the door. "Jay?" You called out to him. You sighed when you were met with no response. You know he didn't tell you to come in, hut you were so worried for your best friend, so you entered his room.

His rock vinyl was spinning, and you took the pin off, making the loud mhsic stop abruptly.

Staring out the window, Jason turns to you, glaring at you.

"C'mon, it's just me, Jay. You can talk to me," you say.

Jason scoffs. "Yeah, sure. Then you'd think of me like the others do," he says, his gaze returnint out the window.

"And how do they think of you, Jason?"

He shrugs. "Like a fucking loser," he croaks.

"That's because you are a loser," you deadpan. Jason's brows furrow in confusion as he looks at you once more. He honestly thought you'd start to go on a long, petty rant about you thinking otherwise.

You sighed, walking over to him, hding his hands and bring him over to his bed, sitting him down.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Jay. Your life sucks and I don't know if it's going to get better. There's a chance that it's not. You are a loser. You're spontaneous, make dumb decisions that don't always go well. But, you know? It's not entirely your fault. Your childhood sucks, your current family sucks and most of your teammates sucks. And you're just doing your best. You may be a loser, but guess what? I am, too. I can't fight, I can make weapons, but my aim is shit. My dad died, and my drug addict mom left me. I'm always alone i the tower because everyone else is out doing cool, superhero shit. I understand your pain, Jason. That's why we tell each other the shit we've been through. Because that load might be too heavy for only ourselves to carry. But I'm sure as hell it would be light as a feather if we carry both of our problems together," you choose your words carefully, your hands remaining on his, your thumb stroking his scarred skin.

Slowly, you move your hands, shifting them to link your pinky with his while he remains silent. "Jason, I promise you. I'm always going to be here to listen. I'm always going to be here for you. To help you in any way I possibly can."

Jason doesn't verbally reply. What he does, though, is nod and lean his head against your shoulder, tightening his grip around your hands.

[ladykissingfish]

*Kakuzu wakes up in bed, feeling disoriented and groggy*

Kakuzu: What the — *groans and touches his forehead, where he discovers a cloth bandage* What the hell is this?

*Hidan walks into the room with a tray*

Hidan: Holy shit … you’re awake!

Kakuzu: H-Hidan? What happened? Why do I feel so strange?

Hidan: First of all, lay back down, old bastard. You ain’t been very well. You don’t remember what happened when we came back from that mission?

Kakuzu: No?

Hidan: *sets down the tray and kneels on the floor by Kakuzu’s pallet, sighing*

Hidan: We came back, and I told you that your skin was like, turning fuckin’ green. You said it was fine and that you just needed a bath. You got through the doorway, and out of no where you just passed out. Your big stupid head hit that table in the hall, that’s why you got a bandaid. Seriously ‘Kuzu you need to lose some weight, it took four of us to drag your ass in here! You —

Kakuzu: *closing his eyes* Just get to the point, brat.

Hidan: Anyways, puppet-dick looked at ya and took some blood and shit and he said you were poisoned. Probably that guy who gave us the bread when you dropped your bounty off to him. I TOLD you that fucker looked like a shitty asshole! That’s why I didn’t eat MY bread, but your cheap ass blows a fuse about “wasting food” and —

Kakuzu: Hidan.

Hidan: Right. So puppet-dick made ya some kinda antidote but he said it’d make you sleep for a while, til your body got rid of the fever or something. You been in here, being a pain in the ass, for almost a week.

Kakuzu, muttering: I’ve been out a week? Good lord … wait. These aren’t the clothes I was wearing before, right? Did you … did you change me?

Hidan, blushing and scowling: It ain’t a big deal, bastard. I’ve just been giving you little washings and I changed your dirty-ass clothes. So what?

Kakuzu: *looks at the tray and sees it contains a bowl of broth*

Kakuzu: Have … you been feeding me, as well?

Hidan:  … What? I was supposed to just let your dumbass starve to death?

Kakuzu: *is momentarily stunned silent at the implication that HIDAN has been taking care of him*

Kakuzu, managing to sit up and clearing his throat: That looks really good, and I’m hungry. My arms still feel a little weak; can you help me?

Hidan, blushing harder than ever: Y-yeah. I mean I guess since you’re old and weak I have no choice. *dishes up a spoonful of broth* Open wide, bastard.

*Hidan feeds Kakuzu quietly for a while*

Kakuzu, smiling: This is good. Konan is a fine cook.

Hidan: Tsk; I made this, asshole.

Kakuzu, surprised: You did? On your own?

Hidan: You say that like I’m stupid or something. Yeah, on my own. I made a roast and then strained it and added cream so that you could swallow. If there’s any left, when ya get better we can eat the actual meat. You —

Kakuzu: *reaches out and pulls Hidan into his arms, cradling him against his chest*

Hidan: O-Oi! Hey! Let go of me, old man!

Kakuzu: *ignores Hidan and kisses the top of his head* I love you, you insufferable brat.

Hidan: *smirks and allows himself to relax in Kakuzu’s arms* Love you too, you shitty old bastard.

Kakuzu: I’m a shitty bastard, eh? Well you know what? Your God is fake and your beliefs are garbage.

Hidan: Your money won’t last and your greed will send you to burn in hell for all eternity.

Kakuzu, pulling off Hidan’s shirt: Burn with me.

*the two start making out in-between trading more cutting insults*

Deidara, coming into the room with medicine sent from Sasori: God damn what the fuck is wrong with you two, hm?!

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

Actions and Consequences

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

Warning: 18+ Only MDNI SMUT. Language, BDSM, Dom Aaron, emotionally detached reader, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive father figure, age gap (reader 25 Aaron 40) doesn’t line up with a specific time line, use of Y/n because story is set in 3rd person for the first half then switches POV, last name for reader is Smith,

Specific Chapter Warnings: implied sex (between reader and ex-boyfriend) past boyfriend being rough and mean to reader, eating, official set up of dynamic and rules, a little bit of spicy for you guys 💋(hint)

7 Years Ago

“Two more weeks… I can’t believe it.” Y/n sighs, leaning her head against the shoulder of the boy laying beside her. He smiles, passing a hand over the top of her head, smoothing down her static hair.

“We’re going to be graduates… fuck it’s crazy.” She cranes her neck, smiling as she meets green eyes. He leans forward, pecking her lips quickly. “Alright, let me up. My moms gonna be home soon.” Y/n rolls over, taking the black sheet with her as he climbs out of bed, searching for his shorts.

“Good, I need to help her finish the desserts for your party tomorrow.” After months of hopping from one house to the next, Y/n has finally been able to settle into the guest bedroom of her boyfriend’s family home with what little belongings she owns. She sits up, letting the sheet fall around her hips as she snags her t-shirt and leggings off the floor.

“Oh yeah? What y’all making?” He tugs on his tank top, running his hand through his spiky blond hair as he eyes the naked expanse of her back.

Y/n shrugs, pulling on her shirt before slipping into her leggings. “Um I think a lemon cake.” The young man flops onto the bed and she laughs, laying back down beside him, her fingers twining together to rest over her stomach.

“I do like lemon.”

She rolls her eyes with a smile, “Trust me, everyone knows Trever.” He nudges her with his elbow and she laughs, a joy filled sound she’s finally getting use to.

“God, I can’t wait, finally get out of high school and we can just… do whatever. Well I mean I’ve got collage next fall but still.” Trever sighs blissfully before turning to look at his girlfriend. “Gonna come be my secret roommate? Get me in all kinds of trouble.”

“You wish,” Y/n scoffs, nudging him back. “You know my classes start a semester before yours.” Trever stays silent for a moment, Y/n staring up at the ceiling unaware of the change in his once easy expression.

“You’re still serious about that?” The question catches her off guard, her head turning to look at him. His face is pinched, like he can’t believe her. Y/n sits up, turning to face him fully.

“Y-yeah… Trever I’ve been serious about this. It’s the whole reason I work three jobs and bust my ass in school every week.”

He pushes himself up, leaning against his head board. “Look, babe, I’m not trying to be mean here but… do you really think you can do it? You’re talking about the FBI here… they don’t just take anyone. Especially…” He hesitates and her temper flares, her eyes narrowing.

“Especially, what?”

Sighing he gestures to her with a splayed hand, “Ya know… little country girls who don’t really know what they are doing. If you really want to work somewhere that makes you feel like you’re making a difference, why not go for something you’re almost guaranteed a job?” His expression shifts like he’s had the most brilliant idea, ignoring the obvious hurt growing across Y/n’s features. “911 dispatcher! You won’t even have to waste your money on-.”

“Fuck you.” She spits, standing and marching from the room, anger filling her chest to the point it almost hurts.

“Hey! Don’t talk to me like that!” Trever follows her out into the hallway, grabbing her by the shoulder as they reach the top of the stairs. She spins and shoves him, but he plants his feet, gripping her painfully by the shoulders. “Don’t you ever fucking talk to me like that again. Not in my goddamn house. You’re lucky my parents are even letting you stay here and you’re gonna act like that?” He shakes her harshly, her teeth slamming together making pain shoot up her jaw.

“At least your parents fucking believe in me! Your moms the one that paid off the rest of my entrance fee last week!” She struggles against him, her hands pushing at his chest but his fingers dig into her muscles. His face reddens but before he can say anything the front door swings open. A short, black haired woman stares up at them in confusion, her mouth open slightly.

Trever steps back quickly and Y/n moves down the stairs, keeping her eyes on her so-called boyfriend. “What is going on? I could hear you screaming from the front porch.” She closes the door behind her, her many bracelets tinkling with the movement as she sets her purse down on the landing.

“Nothing, Mrs. Dwayne.” Y/n says quietly, moving down the stairs until she is beside the woman. “I need to go to work…”

“I thought you were going to bake with me dear?” The sad look that passes across the older woman’s brown eyes makes Y/n’s throat constrict, that hated feeling of pinpricks forming in her nose. In the past five months of her relationship with Trever, Mrs. Dwayne has been nothing short of a mother figure to Y/n. Teaching her to cook, to clean, showing her the basic skills of life without so much as a disgruntled look. She didn’t want to hurt her now.

“I-I will.. I mean I am… I just. I need to go get something for work, I mean. I’ll be back.” Before Mrs. Dwayne or Trever can say a word Y/n is bolting out the front door, towards her run down car, rage and devastation simmering in her chest so heavily she can’t think anymore. The need to be anywhere but here propelling the car into motion.

She wouldn’t break down here, not where anyone could find her, when she’s alone she’ll let the tears run freely and her sobs fill the empty space around her.

Present Day

The rest of Tuesday had crept by silently, nothing like the first half of the day. You had joined Aaron for dinner in the dining room, where he informed you he had a few conference calls to make in the morning and he would check on you when he was done. That was many hours ago.

You had been awake long before the sun rose behind charcoal clouds, listening to the rain pelt your window relentlessly. You sit propped against your pillows, lost in deep thought… shameful deep thoughts. Most of your night was spent tossing and turning, what little sleep you did get wasn’t filled with the usual empty darkness, or the occasional bad dream; instead Aaron had taken up every unconscious thought.

You had dreamt of his hands on your body, much like the day before, only this time there was even less in between his burning palms and your skin. You could feel the reverberation of unheard words from his chest into your back, his hands slipping up, up, up cupping your breasts through your bra. His hips ground against your back, the buckle of his belt biting into your skin as his erection pressed against the swell of your ass. Then his palm began to travel lower, straight to your-

You shake your head fiercely, before smothering yourself with a pillow, groaning loudly. You stay like that for a few long minutes, desperately trying to ignore the ache between your thighs until it becomes to much. Throwing the pillow across the room you climb out of bed and head straight for the bathroom, determined a scalding shower would set your mind right.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Steam billows out of the room after you, a scratchy towel wrapped tight around your body, another holding your hair in place atop your head. The skin along the tops of your shoulders and breasts glow pink, having used the hot water liberally. You make your way over to the bags you had placed on the floor last night, grabbing the closest one and rummaging through it.

Something smooth and soft slips against your hand and you grab it, pulling it free of the wadded up clothing. Realizing you should really organize everything before it all becomes a wrinkled mess. Dropping the bag you unfold a Champaign colored silk night gown. It’s simple, a trim of lace adorns the bodice and it reaches about the middle of your thighs, a small slit up both sides. You can’t remember Aaron ever placing it in the cart otherwise you’d of protested.

A large part of you doesn’t want to wear it, or any of the clothing for that matter. That part was called shame. Shame that he had so easily talked you into letting him buy you all of these clothes, better yet talked you into this whole mess in the first place.

But another part of you, the one that really did not want to wear the same sweats again for the 8th day in a row, won the battle. With a defeated sigh you change into the gown. It’s hugs your body, accentuate your curves and clinging to your damp skin. It’s soft, comfortable, and smells clean, that’s all that matters to you.

You grab your over night bag, pulling out your iPod and headphones before crawling back into bed. You set up your computer to finish working, before pressing play on the little pink device and popping in an ear bud. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand only once, but you ignore it, instead typing away on your computer.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Morning slowly rolls into lunch, a half eaten croissant sandwich lays on your nightstand as you dutifully work, bobbing your head in time to the music.

‘What’s in your head, in your head? Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie-ie, oh’

Something connects with your door, the sound reverberating through the room making you scream. You rip out your ear bud, holding your breath as a series of knocks rattle your door, making your stomach swoop and drop all at once. Slowly you move from your bed to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open a crack. Aaron’s usual hard stare greets you, but his cheeks are tinged red, his lips pressed into a thin line. A shudder wracks through your body at the intensity of his stare, your palms feeling clammy against the door handle.

“Um… hi?” He doesn’t say a word as he wraps a hand around the door, forcing it open and you out of his way as he barges inside. “Hey!”he stops in the middle of the room, one hand on his hip and the other rubs at his forehead. He’s dressed in a darker pair of blue jeans this time, paired with a black collard shirt, probably more appropriate for his conference calls.

“Does your phone not work, or have you just been-.” Aaron turns then and whatever annoyed tyrant he was about to go on dies on his tongue at the sight of you. You’re standing at the door, eyebrows raised and eyes a little wide in panic, but it’s not your expression that stops him. His eye dip to your body, noticing what you’re wearing and something in his stomach stirs at the sight. The dress is stretched around your body, specifically across your stomach, an indent where your belly button is. Your hips are accentuated and he realizes with a small thrill that the fabric is just barely see through as he gaze travels from your breasts to your face.

“Fuck.” He breaths out, and a shiver skirts down your spine at the rumble of his voice, blooming into something warm and fuzzy between your hips. Aaron slowly makes his way to you, and this time you stay rooted to the carpet, your chin lifting and the back of your head bumping against the door as he stops a few mere inches in front of you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Aaron reached up, dragging his knuckle across your spaghetti strap, brushing across your collarbone where it stops on the curve of your neck. He cups the side of your neck, half of his palm resting against your jaw as his thumb sweeps back and forth. That warm and fuzzy feeling has caught fire, burning with a demanding intensity that leaves you reeling.

“My… My phone?” You ask absently, anything to change the direction of what might happen, his dark eyes snap to yours and you wish you had never spoken, anger and lust swirl together in his irises, his pupils dilated.

“Your phone,” He repeats, head tilting slightly as if he couldn’t quite remember what he came here for. “Were you ignoring me?”

You shake your head, then rethink his question. “Well… no not outright. I was working and in my head space, I remember my phone going off a few times but I honestly didn’t think about it.”

Aaron can only find honesty in the doe eyed look you’re giving him. “That’s two, sweetheart. You need to be more attentive.” Your eyebrows furrow, your soft gaze shifting to something hard as you glare up at the older man.

“Be more attentive? If you really needed me you could of just called. I was busy doing work, I still am.” You snap, gesturing towards your bed. He keeps his hand firm on your neck as he turns, glancing at your open laptop and he can faintly hear your music playing. “And what do you mean by two? Why do you keep counting?”

His thumb presses against the bottom of your chin, tilting your head further back and the pressure makes you squirm. He turns back with a small smile, something impish laying behind it. Aaron ducks down closer and you go still, his breath fanning over your lips and you can smell the tingling scent of mint.

“I did. Twice in fact. I’m counting the amount of times you break your rules, how ever many that is will help us decide what your punishment will be.” Aaron watches the blush slowly form across your cheeks before it seeps down your neck underneath his hand. He would be a lier if he said the effect he was having on you didn’t go both ways.

“We didn’t agree on any punishments, and how can I break a rule I didn’t know about?” You utter, quietly, your eyes betraying you and dropping away from his stare. Aaron smirks, nodding as he smooths his hand down to your collarbone, feeling the wild thump of your heart through your skin.

“That’s why I’m here. We’re going to discuss everything. Over lunch.” He steps back leaving you glued to the door staring at him baffled. “What are you in the mood for? We’ll order something in instead of risking the weather.” And as if the sky could hear his wise judgment a roll of thunder shakes the building. You squeeze your eyes shut until the noise dies off and the only thing that can be heard is the rain splattering against the window once more.

Aaron watches you, gaining a new piece of information, before walking towards the nightstand where the muted green hotel phone lays. He notices your half eaten breakfast sandwich and mutters something you can’t quiet hear.

“Um.. pizza?”

“Pizza it is.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Not long after a steaming pepperoni and sausage is sitting on your dresser. Aarons posted in the chair again and you’re perched on the foot of the bed, picking at the melted cheese glancing your boss’s way every now and again.

“You look like you have something you want to say.” Aaron says, taking a large bite of his slice. Your shoulder rises and falls, watching him openly now. He wipes his mouth with a napkin, leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so… human. This is the same man you’ve witnessed stand his ground against men ready to kill, talk down others who are ready to end it all; protect his team with a fierceness that goes unmatched by any other. It’s hard to think of him as anything else besides SSA Hotchner, but right here… is just Aaron.

“I don’t know… I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around this.” You admit, biting into your lower lip. “Everything is just… it’s such a sudden change and hasn’t been easy to get use to.”

Aaron smile is pitying at best and you want to convince yourself you hate it. “I know baby. You’ll get there, though. We have the entire month to smooth everything out and come to understand each other better.” The loose use of different pet names makes your insides bubble with craved affection, shame tinting your skin. “Are you ready to talk?”

“I don’t really have a choice do I?”

“You do, at any point you can call it off, but you know exactly where that leads.” His tone is all to knowing of your decision and you huff, scrubbing your hands across your face. He takes your silence as reluctant agreeance, pulling out his phone. “Last night I came up with some rules, punishments and rewards that I think will suit you and I the best.” He taps away at his phone for a few seconds before continuing. “The first, simple, call me Aaron when it’s just the two of us. Second, don’t doubt me when I say I am buying you something or taking you somewhere. Money is not an issue. Third-.”

“Answer my phone at your beck and call?” The sarcastic question sort of fell from your lips, causing Aaron’s eyes to narrow as he sets his paper plate down on the pizza box.

“Third.” He emphasizes, drawing out the word. “Check in with me. I need to know you are okay, if you’ve made it where you are going, if there is anything you need. It’s important that you do so.”

“That’s going to be hard to do when we will be on cases and working.” You point out, picking apart your pizza and taking small bites of the greasy dough.

“That’s why all of these rules are moldable to how we live. Work is for work, but some things will still apply. Like making sure you are eating, drinking plenty of water, getting rest when you can. After hours, when it’s just us, I expect you to follow your rules completely.” He watches the way you pluck off the pepperonis, setting them off to the side. “Punishments won’t be a daily thing like it is with others. We can pick a day where we sit and go over everything you’ve done wrong for the week, then decide your punishment from there. I have a few ideas such as choosing your clothing for the week, have your write lines, have you kneel for an extended period of time.”

Your nose scrunches, the next thing your peeling from your pizza is the little balls of sausage. “That all sounds a bit childish.”

“You aren’t wrong. But you’d be surprised how childish a person can act when given rules.” You roll your eyes making him chuckle. “Just like that.” You shoot him a halfhearted glare that he returns with a smile. “But if you’ve been a brat all day, disobeying me and forgetting your rules multiple times, then I may need to resort to something a bit harsher. Putting you over my knee, bondage, collar.” He watches your face flush, eyes going wide like a full moon. “Even then. It’s more so about the embarrassment than it is ever about the pain. Some people find these things enjoyable.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Aaron’s smile takes on a more devious twist, letting his head rest against his fist as he props his arm on the chair. “Maybe you’ll just have to find out.”

You stare at him in shock, your half deconstructed pizza laying forgotten in your lap as your insides burn. Your mind betrays you, questions popping up like wildfires; what would it feel like? Would he leave marks on your skin? Would you enjoy it like he says?

Stammering you drop your gaze from his, his smile never fading as he searches the soft planes of your face, forcing himself not to look any lower than your exposed collarbones and the gentle slope of your shoulders. You set your plate to the side, crossing then uncrossing your legs, the bed creaking as you try to sort through your thoughts. “Can um… can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Does David know? And if so is there anyone else?”

Aaron nods, then quickly raises his hands at the look of panic crossing your features. “David is the only one who knows, and that’s not because I told him out right.” Your panic quickly melts into confusion. “David is the one who suggested I bring up a contract with you.”

Your jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted. “Wait.. David’s… he’s into this?” Aaron nods again, letting you piece together what you will with that crumb of information. “Oh… so… that means the two do you were talking about me.”

Aaron laughs, a deep pleasant sound. “I promise, it wasn’t anything like you might think. We are just worried, and he thought it would be more appropriate coming from me than him.” Despite his humor you can feel panic rising steadily in your chest.

“Ho- Aaron what if someone finds out?”

“There isn’t any reason for anyone to know.”

The iron grip of your blooming panic wraps itself around your throat, your body humming with a desperate need to move and open your lungs. You stand from the bed and begin to pace the small area, passing Aaron with each turn on your heel.

“What if one of us slips up? The amount of trouble we could get into is-it’s astronomical. I’d be forced out of my job because I’m suddenly a woman who sleeps with their boss. You would be forced to resign but of course they’ll go easy on you-.”

“Honey-.”

“-Even if it doesn’t get to that point, the entire team will see me differently. They will question the authenticity of my role and my job. Oh God, and Morgan would be relentless with the teasing.”

“Y/n.”

“He still calls me señorita after I messed up my order at that Mexican restaurant a month ago! He’d never let us-.” Aaron leans forward, capturing your wrist as you walk by with a sharp tug. Pain laces up your already tense muscles and on instinct you turn, your hand lashing out and connecting with the side of Aaron’s face.

Everything goes silent, both of you stuck staring at the other in shock. “I-I’m… I didn’t mean-.” Aaron pulls you down and you clumsily fall into him, knee banging against the chair; your free hand landing on his shoulder. Aaron wraps a hand around the back of your neck, squeezing and before you can utter a word his lips crash into yours.

A muffled squeal escapes the back of your throat, squirming in his tight hold but it proves useless as his other hand drops your wrist, circling the back of your thigh and pulling you fully into his lap. Thighs caging his hips, chest pressed tight against his you squeeze your eyes shut. Aaron depends the kiss, moving his lips against yours allowing a few whimpering syllables to reach the air.

Your heart hammers painfully, your hands gripping at his shoulders but to your surprise you find your body relaxing. Every panicked thought is eclipsed by Aaron as his tongue slowly traces the seem of your lips, asking for entrance that you hesitantly give. But once you get your first taste of him you know you’re gone for, a soft moan rattles through your chest and Aaron devours it, licking into your mouth like a man starved.

His rough hand slips up your thigh, mindful to stay over your dress as it rides up, to cup your ass, squeezing the fat making your hips jump. The involuntary movement makes you grind down against him, pulling out another moan that is quickly followed by one of his own. He is all you can focus on, the fingers in your hair at the base of your skull, the growing bulge pressing into your heated core, the way the side of his nose bumps into yours. His thighs shift, sliding you further into his lap with a ragged groan.

Slowly, almost unwillingly you pull back, sucking in deep lungfuls of air. He gives you the silent moment you need, his fingers scratching your scalp slightly as you try to compose yourself atop him. He can’t stop the way his eyes roam to your lips though, the short taste of you forever imbedded in his brain.

When you finally let your eyes flutter open you meet his half lidded gaze, you lick your lips. “I-I need some time alone…”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Two hours later your phone buzzes on the nightstand, you glance at it from where you lay, curled up on your side in bed. Your fingers keep tracing your kiss swollen lips, unable to stop thinking about anything else. Grabbing your phone you roll onto your other side, opening your texts.

A new message from Aaron pops up, and your thumb hovers over the screen, your stomach churning with anticipation. Clicking the screen a long message pulls up.

‘Let me know what you want to change, my sweet girl.’

A smile tugs at your lips without your permission, cheeks reddening as you read over the list of rules, rewards, and punishments that follow. At the very end, boldened followed by a question mark is the word:

‘Spanking?’

You take a deep breath, sealing your fate with a few clicks of your keyboard.

Thank you all for the amount of love this has received 😭 I can’t wait to continue writing the rest of this story. Please comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Tag List: @kneelforloki @hmett20 @axionn @ncis0mrs0gibbs @morgthemagpie @zaddyhotch @little-miss-cherry-cola @fandomawesomness @heart-breaker8 @aad1993 @obsessed-oops @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @rosiehale23 @emptybagofchips77 @icarusgloom @imr0nni3 @cashtons-wife

[daydream-believin]

That Was Hot But Maybe Don't Make A Habit Of Doing That Babe

warnings: well. assault. transphobia. some of my more. uh. salacious work. never proof read.

word count like barely over 1k.

---

“Aren’t you afraid? Out here insinuating that God made a mistake.”

You clutched your red solo cup a little closer to you, trying your best to ignore this acquaintance who thought she had a right to corner you in this living room and tell you what she thought about your sinful lifestyle. Because that’s what you come to house parties for, to give other guests unsolicited advice on their mortal soul. You took a deep breath, schooling your expression as Jessica prattled on.

“Your body is a temple, you know. You can’t just do whatever you want with it. It’s sacred.”

You stared at her thick eyeliner, wondering if she used a stencil or something to get the wing that smooth. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a “messy bun” and a quick glance at her feet proved she was wearing white converse. So, a woman who’s bitter about having never been sold to one direction for gambling money, it looks like. You’d never seen her outside of a professional setting, so this was a curious insight on her personality, if the glaring red flag of this entire conversation wasn’t that already.

“Is that so,” you said in the bored-est tone you could muster.

“It’s a shame, really. You could’ve been a good wife and had a family like God intended, but no man will ever want you until you quit it with this. Such a waste.”

Ah, and there’s the reminder that she doesn’t see you as anything more than your uterus. Jessica swept her eyes over your form, so tight to the wall you were up against that you might have to unstick yourself from the wallpaper after this. You watched her as the look of disgust graced her features. The other people at the party may as well have been shadows, just you and the she-wolf here in this moment.

“And you’re not fooling anyone, hon,” she snorted, “Honestly, anyone can see you’re just a woman who really let herself go.”

“Excuse me?” you said through gritted teeth.

She grinned like a shark, “I said I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve only gotten fatter and uglier since this whole thing started. You poor girl, letting your mental illness ruin you like this. Maybe if we had gotten you into a good makeup artist--”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before the fist collided with her cheekbone. Your eyebrows hit your hairline as you instinctually tried to back further into the wall.

Ah. Looks like your boyfriend finally got here.

“Holy shit man! Did you just punch out that chick?”

Doux stared at his still-raised fist, in disbelief himself that he just did that. “Uh…” he trailed, “I’m a feminist?”

You glanced over to her. Jessica was too caught up in gripping her newfound nosebleed to pay any attention to you.

“OKAY,” you grabbed his shirt collar, “We need to go have a serious conversation, right now,”

You headed off up the stairs of the house, pulling Douxie along as you heard Jessica whine,

“Perfect, I got blood on me. This blouse is ruined.”

Well, at least she was madder about her dry cleaning than the getting punched part.

“Did anyone see who the hell did that?”

..Okay maybe not.

“I don’t know, Jess, it happened so fast, sorry. Let’s get you another drink, yeah?” You heard the host tell her. Fortunately, no one at this party was keen on the idea of having the cops called, so you could count on them to diffuse this situation for you.

You quickly found the upstairs bathroom, right where you remembered it. Luckily wide open and vacant. You shoved Doux inside, locking the door behind you. He awkwardly perched on the edge of the bathtub, rubbing his now sore knuckles, as you turned around to glare at him. His gangly legs kind of reminded you of a spider as he stamped his feet in annoyance.

“What. The fuck. Was that.” you stalked towards him.

“I’m not about to defend my need to defend you.” His tone was fast and angry, telling you was still riding out the adrenaline high from instigating a fight. He stood to meet your level. Or slightly tower over it, as it were.

You grabbed his collar again. Douxie stared you down as you leaned into his space, and he pushed himself into yours until your noses were brushing, pupils blown wild.

“I’d say it’s my responsibility, even.”

You aggressively kissed him, clacking your teeth together, but neither of you seemed to care. Your hands pinned his face into yours, and he grabbed your hips, pulling your body closer into his.

Your lips dragged together in a dance. It was amazing how easily he could make your head spin. Douxie moaned into you, and you, not for the first time, wished you could get a recording of that sound to play over and over again. You smiled into the kiss.

His hands roamed up to your ribs, fingers digging into the flesh of your chest beneath him. You gently bit down on his lower lip in retaliation, suckling an apology as he made a noise that could only be described as a hot little whimper.

You started walking him backwards, until he hit the wall behind him. You pushed a leg in between his, and an arm up on the wall beside his head, trapping him against you. Well, not trapping. He was bigger than you and could overpower you anytime he wanted to. That just made it sexier in your opinion.

He pulled back slightly, just to run his tongue over your lips, making you gasp and provide an opportunity for him to push in past your teeth. Doux moaned as he ran his tongue over yours, driving you crazy. God, you loved how vocal he was. And you loved tasting his breath like this.

Douxie continued exploring your mouth like he hadn’t memorized the pattern of your teeth by now and you let him have this bit of dominance over you, considering you were currently boxing him into the wall. He dragged his tongue along the roof of your mouth, and your brain shut off. Nothing was happening except this feeling. He was the only person in the world and--

A loud bang bang bang from someone knocking on the door reminded you where you were. And there were in fact more people here.

You pulled apart, gasping for breath. His face was adorably flushed.

“Just for the record, I wasn’t reprimanding you," you told him breathlessly.

“I can see that now.”

You snickered as he started fixing his hair in the mirror in an attempt to look less disheveled. It wasn’t going to matter when you both walked out together, but sure.

“I know the party just started but we might need to leave already.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. we ‘might’.” You smiled up at him, as you took his hand, “C’mon let’s get out of here before Jessica sees me again.”

[wildflower-otome]

[Translation] 9 R.I.P. - Minami - Heavenly End After Story

Source: 9 R.I.P. Stella Set Special Bonus Booklet Note: Major Spoilers for Minami's Heavenly End below.

More Valuable Than Life - Minami Heavenly End After Story

Sometime after Misa and I had begun our life in hell together—.

Truth be told, I wanted to be with her 24/7, but in order for us to enjoy our lives, we needed money.

Which was why, today I had gone out for work.

‘Misa~ I’m home—’

…..…..…..Huh?

I looked around the area outside. Searched inside the tent. Checked the bed.

‘I’m sure I told you to wait for me…..!’

Unable to endure it, I went out to search for Misa.

* * *

No matter where I searched in town, I couldn’t find her anywhere, so I went to the last place I could think of, tucked away in a corner of my mind.

‘…..Ah, I feel so sluggish- Wish I could just burn that stupid calypha tree down…..’

I had gone to H.O., the place that reeked of the air that so vexed me. She had to be here. With that bastard I really wanted to kill…..

After walking through the outer hallway just as I had thought, I could see the figures of Misa…..and that jerk Seiya.

‘Hey, stupid woman. Why the hell are you here?!’

As I spoke angrily, unable to hide my irritation, she ran over to my side, seeming flustered.

‘Minami-kun, great job at work today. I had thought to finish up here before you came home, but-.....’

‘Hah? What kind of business would you have to finish up here?’

‘That’s, um.....’

While Misa was still at a loss for words, Seiya came closer.....

‘Haah..... dear me. What a terrible way to speak to one’s lover. It’s not too late, Misa-san. You must give up on this horrible demon.’

‘That’s going a little too far-’

‘Don’t go getting in between us, asshole.’

‘Foolhardy words, considering where we are.’

As he spoke, Seiya threw something in my direction—but without missing a beat, Misa caught it.

‘Seiya-san, I’m sorry about Minami-kun, but please don’t go throwing calypha petals. And Minami-kun, you mustn’t be so rude.’

‘.....Out of respect for you, I shall let it pass.’

Not saying anything, I turned my face away, ignoring her.

‘Misa-san, I believe it might be best to tell him the truth. After all, if you do end up passing, it will mean coming here on a regular basis.’

‘That’s, true.’

.....Say what now?

Misa straightened her shoulders and once more faced towards me, looking nervous as she went to speak.

‘There was a poster on the noticeboard in town advertising part-time jobs at H.O. That’s the reason I came here to speak to Seiya-san. I want to work.’

‘----’

‘It’s hard not having anything to do, and I don’t want to put all the burden on you, Minami-kun. It’s two of us living together. That’s why-’

‘No.’

‘..........’

‘If you want something to do, help me out with my work.’

‘I don’t know anything about fortune-telling-’

‘Just you being there will help me out. In other words, quit overthinking things. Talk to me before you do anything. Got it?’

‘.....Yeah.’

‘I mean, to begin with, you being at H.O. is bad enough, but there’s no way you’re working with Seiya.’

‘Fufu-, just as I predicted.’

‘Yes.....you were completely right, Seiya-san.’

‘The hell you talking about?’

‘I was just telling her that you’d hate the idea, so it was best to give up. A shame really, I would have liked to have been coworkers.’

.....Hmph. Guess Seiya did have some brains after all. He didn’t need to add that last part though.

‘Sorry for wasting your time, Seiya-san.’

‘Don’t let it worry you. For your sake, I will always have more than enough time. Do come and see me again.’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Oi, don’t ever come here again.’

‘I can’t promise that. Seiya-san is my friend, after all.’

‘Blech.....Don’t say something so disgusting!  Just so you know, I don’t approve.’

‘Fufu-, thank you for your kind words, Misa-san. Now then, I still have work to do, so I shall take my leave.’

Haah.....he’s finally gone.

‘Misa, I appreciate that you tried to help me out, but don’t go doing things on your own anymore. From now on, we’ll be together when we’re out, as well as at home. Alright?’

‘.....Why do you restrict my actions so much?’

‘Because I want to have you under my control.’

‘............’

Sighing, Misa lent me her shoulder as we began to walk out.

‘Hey, what’s with the sigh?’

‘Hm? I was just thinking that really is like you, Minami-kun.’

‘And what sort of emotion is that?’

It couldn’t be that she hated me, right.....?

‘Like it sure is heavy being loved.’

‘Do you dislike it?’

‘Of course not. I love you too, Minami-kun. Although, I guess I lose when it comes to heaviness. I don’t think I could win for all eternity.’

The word “eternity” that she suddenly spoke caused a stirring in my chest.

‘Ahaha-, you just keeping losing to me forever, then- ♪’

-Being able to be with her for all eternity. That was what was more important to me than anything.

‘I love you, Misa-chan ♥️’

[solitary-cutie]

Darkness to our light. Part II

Part I

Part III

Part IV

prompt: you and coriolanus are married, it's unbearable for you, but it will all end soon

contains: dark, manipulative, controlling coriolanus. fem!reader.

And so you are sitting in the living room waiting for the only person ypu could talk to - the piano teacher. Sharing with desire to continue your once neglected studies, Coryo did not fail to fulfill whim of his better half and help Her. He would always help, even without asking. No matter if you needed this intervention. He would spend all the money on your wants without even mentioning it, as if forgetting, deliberately ignoring any checks in the stores, but you clearly knew that this wastefulness was another yoke around your neck, because one should be grateful. Especially if the checks came in the mail, and the history of purchases served him in calculating the spending for the month.

“Hello. Hey, you guys quiet today? Helpers’s a bit tense today. Not even tea! Can you believe it? Didn't offer! - The teacher laughed, putting out a folder with notes, a pencil, an eraser and an orange leather notebook from her bag on the snow-white piano.”

“Oh yes, He's planning a dinner party, everyone's getting ready. He's inviting coworkers, his sister. He's looking forward to the promotion.”

“Oh, wow. Who's coming from yours?”

You didn't say anything, was ashamed of yourself. “No, it is his night.” Silence. “Maybe you'll come?” Open hope in the voice of her student, almost her age.

“When? I had plans, but I'd stop by.”

“It starts at 7:00. I'll be waiting, you know! You can come when it's convenient for you.”

A weightless touch, as if you'd brushed something off the back of her hand. You ran your eyes around the room. He's not home. The teacher softened.

“Okay, I'll try.” She finally sits down on a nearby chair. “Come on, show me how you've been practicing. Have you tried to put both hands together yet?”

“I tried, but no luck.”

“Did you play the metronome?”

“Yeah, I got more confused.”

“All right, I'll do the math. Go ahead. E-e-e, one and, two and--“

The game began, with mistakes and quick, hurried edits.

“You've changed.” Said the teacher, stopping counting out the rhythm, because the student was already helping herself with the silent movement of her lips.

“He says the same thing to me.” She chorused the rhythm.

“You're not so much flirtatious, laughing. The author's depression? When was the last time you sat down at the pen?” She smiled.

“I miss it. Okay, wait, what's the best way to play this? I forgot.”

The teacher intercepted her hands and began playing the obscure part, counting out the rhythm aloud with intonation highlighting that "And three, And four, And one...".

“You're unhappy.”

“No, why?”

“That's not a question. I can recommend a psychologist, the best woman I know. She helped me let go of my resentments.”

“I'm not resentful.”

“Teach you to love yourself, so you don't deny those resentments, but accept them. Appreciate yourself, don't deny being alone, but accept being one with yourself. You are not alone, know you can walk away from where you want to walk away from.” The teacher did not realize how she had pushed the piano aside and how she had moved on to passionate speeches. She had been spared the resentment, but not the desire to save.

You looked around the room again out of habit.

“At least he doesn't hit you?”

“No, God, of course not.” You caught the doubt in her eyes and a second frown furrowed her brow. “No, seriously, I wouldn't stand for that. I'm not leaving him. I can't.”

“There's no word for "can't."

“I mean, what dictionary can I give you to back that up? I don't even want to leave. We are one and the same, and he won't just let me go. The only way I'm getting out of here is with my feet up. If I'm lucky and he dies before I do, I'll have a few years of pleasure.” She smiled, starting the composition from the beginning.

“In the left hand hurry a little. And how can you reason like that about a man you're married to? And if the children come, what will you do?”

“The later they come, the better, God forbid now.”

“Does he want them now?”

You hesitated, not stopping the game. It was embarrassing. Again.

“Well he hasn't talked about them yet, though I don't know how he plans to.”

“So even your body doesn't belong to you? You don't talk about your plans, not your plans, but his.”

“My soul doesn't even belong to me. Look, my arms are tired, can I take a little break?” Nod. “What's the best way to pedal here?”

“First learn to control both hands.”

Silence.

You wonder if you could call it a pun. If your body and even the imperishable substance of your being belongs to your husband, a white-haired angel raised in hell and invited into the ether of paradise, a world of powerful, fully-endowed people, will you be able to control what you lost access to on the date that the calendar refers to as the "Anniversary of Dating"?

The remaining hour of class passed in silence, resulting in the learning of a new sonata, even with the use of a pedal to stretch the sound, giving it a smooth flow from one bar to the next.

“I have a question here: when will you finally learn the bass clef? Will you stop signing notes?” The teacher mocked, marking in the diary the next lesson for January.

“It's a rhetorical question.” You looked at the Interlocutor. “Oh man, I don't like that bass clef, I can't memorize it. The only thing I know is what the C note looks like. That's it.”

“Don't forget the "B."

“Oh yeah, and then..." She made a long road to nowhere with her hand.

“And then let the Snow land on top.” He stood at the white archway that opened the living room, leaning lightly against the blue wall with gilded patterns and trees.

You shuddered, nerves to no avail, you were easily frightened, which could not be said of your teacher, - a girl strong-willed. Nevertheless, the fright laid a heavy stone on her heart, sinking it into her heels, and she dropped her pencil and, looking at him confusedly, hurried to pick it up.

“I didn't mean to disturb you, much less frighten you.” The ice-cold eyes flashed over each of the girls, burning their insides with cold.

Coriolanus knew you were partial to this pianist. From the first time you met her, He had noticed the glint in your eyes. Gross, He didn't approve of it, but He also knew it was certainly not worth worrying about. You amuse yourself as best you can from lack of socialization with Him. Yes, maybe you complain about Him, suffer, but you won't leave Him because you don’t want to. These reflections might have reassured Him if He had once experienced a semblance of even doubt, let alone anxiety.

“Ginny, my wife and I are organizing a dinner party tonight. We'd love for you to come.” His eyes darted to you, looking at your teacher. What will you do? If you start coaxing her “friend”, this conversation never happened between you, but if you walk up to Him and...

“What a great idea!” You whispered, flying up to your husband and hugging him by the forearm. He smiles, it all became clear, you had already invited her, but was it scary to ask Him? “I was afraid to invite Ms. Ring because of the possibility of rejection.”

Now you are on His side, snuggling up to Him to get hers. Manipulative. And who are you trying to bend to your will is unclear.

“Yes, of course, thank you for the invitation, I'd love to come. But I'm afraid I'm busy, so I won't be able to make it to the beginning of the evening.”

“I didn't tell you the time, in case you get there.”

You both looked at each other. The pianist was confused.

“Dinner starts at 6:00 or 7:00 in the evening. Ms. Ring apparently skips a lot of dinner.” She tried to put the question into an impromptu justification for the two of them, but it came out badly. The answer to his line didn't work anyway.

“It starts at seven o'clock, but knowing some of the guests, they'll be a little later.” He looked at his wife. “Play the new composition you've learned for me.”

“We haven't played it all the way through yet. We need time.”

“Play it.” Demand…

[mariaofdoranelle]

Catastrophic Blues - part 2

Part 1

Written for @sjmromanceweek

Prompt: Free Day

Welcome to my part 2!! And probably last. It took me so long to find these two a decent closure, now I wrote it in one day and I feel eMpTy

Warnings: language and innuendos?

Words: 2,3k

Aelin’s hurried footsteps were barely audible on the bustling airport, while the umpteenth last call for her flight to Suria blasted through the speakers. A few aimless passengers curiously watched her, a reminder that this scene would be a lot prettier if she stopped skipping cardio at the gym.

In her defense, the bookstore was too far from her gate, and you can’t rush finding the perfect rom-com.

At her designated gate, Aelin was one of the very few last to arrive. She held her pillow and bag close, rushing through the straight corridor of the airplane. Not minding the passengers staring at her, but trying to ignore a very specific one that followed her with his gaze the entire time.

When Aelin finally found her seat, she didn’t even find time for her muscles to settle before he said, “Still running on your own time zone, I see.”

His deep voice was always quick to soothe her, but this time it brought back a wave of melancholy that haunted her days, way too persistent in comparison to her previous heartbreaks.

“I thought you weren’t coming anymore.” Aelin shouldn’t pry, but she couldn’t help herself. Rowan did say he would still go on the trip with her, but that was before his new relationship. “I’m surprised Lyria let you.”

“She didn’t. We broke up.”

“Oh.” This was unexpected, given Lyria’s annoying loving posts on Instagram.

“We really did.”

“I’m finding it hard to believe you.”

“You should.” Rowan had this boyish grin on, it was hard to believe he was talking about his latest ex.

“Of course.” Fuck, this is awkward. “I’m sorry,” she lied.

“Don’t be. Lyria was… you know—”

“I don’t. Please don’t enlighten me.”

“Fair enough.” He slugged into the airplane seat that was almost too small for his frame, and the lightness of his expression had faded away by now. “I just realized that this trip meant more to me than her.”

“Because of the money we wasted, you mean?”

Rowan furrowed his brows, his gaze unfocused when he said, “Something like that.”

“Wow.” Aiming for levity, she chuckled. “Now it kinda feels like I dodged a bullet.” Well, he did just say that he’d rather lose the girlfriend than waste the money. Aelin had to keep things light to survive this trip.

However, he didn’t seem to find it as funny. “No. Actually—“

“What’s the itinerary again?” She asked, desperate to change the subject from his love life.

Of course, Rowan had a copy of their entire trip plan on his phone. They’d arrive at the hotel too late to explore Suria, but tomorrow they’d have a—

Aelin snatched the phone from Rowan’s hand, zooming in the details of the excursion.

“Did you book us in a tour for seniors?”

“You said you wanted to relax.” He took his phone back. “There’s no tour calmer than one made for the elderly.”

˜˜

“I’M BURNING THROUGH THE SKY, YEAH!” A chorus of the nicest old people Aelin had ever met sang in the small bus, still bursting with energy after several hours of touristing in Suria.

Emrys, the tour guide, had a guitar to entertain everyone during the longer stretches inside the bus, while his husband drove and sang along with them. Most of the passengers were either clapping to the rhythm of the song—which was Rowan’s choice of participation—or singing their lungs out, like Aelin when she put her hands around her mouth to shout, “200 DEGREES, THAT’S WHY THEY CALL ME MR. FAHRENHEIT!”

The initial goal of this trip had been relaxation, but her active little tour group had been a small blessing today.

Rowan paid for a small, extra bed in their room, but last night and this morning were still uncomfortable. Sharing a room and being this close left a hollowing type of ache inside her, but taking a bath after him just to start the day with the smell of his cologne and shaving cream completely ruined her mood for breakfast.

But now, between the tour and singing and assisting cute old people with their phones, Aelin and Rowan didn’t have the time to be awkward around each other.

Or worse, they were easily falling into an old, comfortable rhythm.

The tour’s last stop was on a closed street for pedestrians. The tourists were eager to get off the bus and join the lively street, filled with shops, restaurants, and street artists trying to be louder than the pedestrians’ chatter. Outside, the smell of fried street food lured Aelin like a magnet, but Rowan watched their new acquaintances disappear into the crowd with a surprised grin.

The hand he kept on her back while descending the bus’ small corridor slid to her hip outside, and he whispered on her ear, “I think we are the elderly ones.”

His breath fanning against the shell of her ear sent a shiver down her spine, and by the way his hand tightened around her hipbone, he noticed it too.

“We?” Aelin shrieked, forcing a smile despite the heat on her cheeks. “Buzzard, I’m going dancing with Emrys right now.”

Aelin scurried away, her back already to Rowan when she realized the ease in which Rowan’s old nickname fell from her lips and cringed. It’d only be weirder if she returned to take it back.

Emrys was swaying alone in a small crowd around a saxophonist, and Aelin was quick to join him. The man knew how to lead a dance, and he led her so well her mind wandered back to Rowan.

Turns out she was a lot less over him than she thought. Big fucking deal, Aelin just needed to keep in mind that they broke up for a reason. A jazz version of some trendy pop music blasted behind them, and Emrys twirled her in a way that flared her long green skirt, making her laugh despite feeling conflicted.

She doubted Rowan would want her back after all this time, especially since his breakup with Lyria was so new. But in the few glimpses she took, he watched her every move, leaned against a streetlight, arms crossed with a knowing grin on. When the song ended, Emrys hugged Aelin and smiled at someone behind her.

“You looked like you wanted your girl back,” the old man said to Rowan’s approaching figure.

He just nodded and said his goodbyes before leading Aelin away, a hand on her waist.

Rowan was onto something, he had to be.

His thumb went up and down in unsettling strokes on her waist while they quietly strolled down the street, his arm around her wiring her every nerve. Aelin feigned interest in the boulevard as she tried to slow her breathing. This was a low blow after two months swatting away memories of his bulky arms nestling her, picking her up, yanking her down.

“Where am I buying you dinner?” Rowan asked against her ear yet again, giving her another shiver.

This was getting ridiculous. It had to be intentional.

“Here.” Aelin pointed at a street vendor nearby, heart racing. He wanted to snuck her into a closed, dark place and buy her fancy food? Nuh-uh. Not today.

The break-up happened for a reason, Aelin reminded herself, though it was hard to remember which reason was that. No matter how many times she said it to her mirror.

Undeterred, Rowan found them a bench near the vendor and joined the small line by the cart. With both hands on his pockets, he sent her a small smile, eyes crinkling as if waiting there to buy his ex food was the highlight of his day.

Aelin looked away. This is a trip with his ex he forced himself to go because of the money already spent. No need to overthink what she already overthought two months ago, it wasn’t relevant if her feelings changed or not.

As her treatment worked and Aelin realized she ended a permanent thing because of a temporary situation, the gaping hole in her chest opened further and further, almost swallowing her whole.

But everything was already said and done, no going back now.

Besides, Rowan’s probably over her by now. Maybe he just wants ass and thinks that what happens in Suria stays in Suria. That’s… highly unlike him, but he’s still a man, and that’s what Aelin needs to tell herself to get through this evening.

He sat beside her sooner than expected, coming back with pan-fried trout.

Aelin pouted. “You know I don’t eat fish.”

“Give it a try.”

“What happened to good old french fries?”

“Come on.” He playfully elbowed her. “I’ll get your fries if you at least try.”

She sighed, frowning at the trout. It did look perfectly edible and crispy. She held one and carefully inspected it before taking a bite. After breaking the delicious fried crust, Aelin tasted the most tender and moist flesh, the flavor of butter and herbs exploding inside her mouth.

“That good, huh?” Rowan teased, making her realize that she was practically orgasming next to him.

“You should’ve bought the fries. Now you’re going bankrupt with all the trout I’ll make you buy.”

He didn’t seem to mind, so they silently ate together, only making scarce comments about passers-by—and their dogs, in Aelin’s case. She ate her entire fish, then snuck bites of Rowan’s, to his snarling dismay.

He grabbed one of the vendor’s cheap, thin napkins. “Here, you have a…” Rowan slid it against her lower lip, sending her heart racing. Once done, he still cupped her face and brushed his thumb against her chin, then he smiled. “I think smudged red lipstick might be your best look.”

Aelin’s face faltered. “I think…” She added some distance between them and crossed her arms, feeling mad for him making her feel things she worked long and hard to suppress. “I think you’re using your lowest weapons, and I think it’s not fair.”

Rowan had the gall to cock his head and smirk. “I haven’t even tried using my lowest weapon yet.”

She got up. They were too close, her chest was too fluttery, and… no. She did it for him, and it was a little upsetting if Rowan didn’t recognize that, especially after she worked so hard to not rebel against her own decision.

“Aelin.” He followed her, hot on her heels no matter how much she tried to distance herself, on the crowded main street and then into a quieter side one. “Talk to me.”

She paused, taking deep breaths with her heart still racing, and Rowan knew better than to get nearer right now. “What’re you trying to do?”

“Win you back,” he said, plain and simple.

“Because we’re traveling together and sharing a room corrupted your thoughts?”

“No,” Rowan trailed, looking as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain something so obvious. “Because you broke up with me, but your reasons never convinced me.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, full of disbelief. “Was I supposed to think that while you dated Lyria?”

“Lyria was—“ He huffed. “You know—“

“You won’t get any points if you belittle her or—“

“I’m not trying to do that!” Rowan ran a hand through his hair, looking away for a second to gather his thoughts. “Look, I liked Lyria. She was nice. I only got serious with her because she’s someone I could see myself falling for.” Rowan swallowed, his pine-green eyes boring into her soul as he continued, “But it’s fucking impossible to do that if I’m still in love with you.”

Aelin crossed her arms, looking away and blinking hard so she wouldn’t lose control of her emotions. “You’re not.”

“Seriously?”

She glared at him.

“I love you. Is that what you don’t wanna hear?”

Aelin took a deep breath and sat on the sidewalk curb, not caring about the cute skirt she bought in his favorite color a million years ago. She’d prepared for his hatred. Indifference. Even a hookup, worst-case scenario.

She did not prepare for Rowan still having feelings for her.

He sat by her side, eyes vacant. “Look, you were going through a hard time and I was worried. But you can’t stop me from worrying, and when shit escalates, my worrying does too.”

“I’m still fucked in the head—progressively better, but the trip’s kinda making me forget about it—I just think you’re happier without me.”

“I’m at my happiest when I’m with you.” Rowan sighed, looking up now. “In a relationship, we’re supposed to go through shit together. Not to break up because things are hard, let alone to spare me. Spare me from what?”

“I’m trying so hard not to disagree with my own decision.”

“Then don’t.” He put his hand above hers on the sidewalk, tentative. “Take me back.”

Aelin tried to swallow the thickness in her throat while she fought her own instincts. Trying to distance herself from the memory of Rowan is one thing, but she was too weak to hear him out like this. Besides, he did have a good argument. It kinda added to the little voice in her head saying she ended a perfectly good relationship because of one bump in the road.

“I’m still in love with you too,” she confessed, the words hanging in the air with no closure to them, just that raw feeling.

Rowan reached for the side of her face, his hand slowly cupping her jaw. He stroked it with his thumb, his eyes looking for an answer in hers.

She silently gave it to him.

They hesitantly grew closer, her eyes half-lidded as Rowan grew bolder with her melting in his arms, until he lost patience and took her lips.

Aelin’s body relaxed when he washed her away with the familiarity of his mouth on her, and she had to break the kiss for a second to smile. This dopamine rush he spontaneously gave her was greater than any antidepressant and, right now, the one thing she felt in her bones was that she wouldn’t let go.

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[sweetheart-satoru]

lego set

he's glad he can live his childhood through your hobbies

author's note: i rewrote everything cuz this sucks 😋 also reader is around the same age as denji so we are in fact no hi*eno #2

denji wished he met you earlier.

he wasted his first kiss on himeno, who not only made his first kiss experience terrible but also vomited in his mouth to make it worse. whenever he thinks back to that moment, his mouth goes dry and he thinks he might cry.

he thinks he might die of humiliation when remembering her vomit's chunky, gross taste. "bleugh!" he groans to himself, and aki turns to look at him confused. "what's wrong?" aki was in the middle of discussing something with someone that denji didn't bother to learn their name.

"nothing, i'm gonna go get water!" he excuses himself and power jumps on his back, "ooh! ooh! let me come! ponytail boy is boring." she sticks her tongue out, which aki ignores. "no, you're both in trouble. power, you need to stay. denji, hurry up." he replies, which makes power frown. "see, boring." but she just walks away and sits in a chair.

denji leaves the room, quickly shutting the door and holding his stomach. he feels like he might throw up. as he walks up to a water fountain, he bumps into a girl holding a bunch of papers in her arms.

"oh, sorry. wasn't watching where i was going." you say, bending down to pick them up. denji can barely form a word, and he thinks you're one of the prettiest people he's ever seen.

"oh- uh," he's not good with words so he just shuts up, bends down and helps you pick it up. "sorry, i also wasn't watching where i was going." he blurts out, scratching his head.

you just chuckle and reassure him that it's fine.

that's how you two first met.

over time, you and denji (and power), have gotten much closer. he comes over to hang out during the weekends or when you're back from school.

today, you're just chilling in your room watching an old show while you finished a new lego piece that you saved enough money to buy. (why the fuck is lego so expensive bro i just wanna build)

power got in trouble again so she is not here as denji knocks on your door. "coming!" you call, pausing your show and putting down whatever part from the lego you had in your hands down.

when you open the door you smile widely when you see a certain blond-haired boy in front of you. "oh, hey denji. wanna come in?" you ask, opening the door slightly more for him to enter. "yeah.. thank you.." he says, looking a bit flustered.

and over time he learned to be more neat and clean when coming over. he never listened to aki when he told him to put his shoes away nicely, so when he first stepped foot into your house and saw all the shoes neatly lined up, he couldn't help but want to please you and do the same.

you lead him to your room, which every time he steps into, he feels nervous. he fidgets with his fingers, not paying attention to where he is going and almost falls down.

"holy shit!" you cuss, trying to muffle your laughter. "are you okay, denji?" you help him back up on his feet, and you watch his face get red. "yeah.. i'm okay." he yells at himself to get his shit together in his head.

holy shit i just embarrassed myself like crazy!! he imagines power laughing in his face.

"here," you let him sit in the chair where your lego was near, "i'll get you ice." quickly, you rush downstairs and come back with and ice pack. when you hand it to him he mumbles a quiet, "thanks." and puts the ice on his little injury.

he turns the chair around to face the table in front of it, "hm? what's this?" he points to the lego. you tilt your head, "that's my new lego set! i jus' bought it!" you exclaim joyfully.

"woahh.." he looks at it closer, "what does that mean?" he asks, confused. "hm? have you never had lego before?" you ask him, "well i mean, i was basically homeless my entire life, and was on the verge of death like every other day trying to make money.. so, yeah.. never had one before." he shrugs, as if what he said literally wasn't crazy.

you cough awkwardly, "oh.." he just nods, still paying attention to the lego set, trying to understand what it is, "well, want me to show you?" you ask, trying to lighten the mood.

"yeah!" he exclaims, "okay, stand up," you shoo him out of your chair, "see this?" you show him the instruction book, "you need to follow what they're saying. so this page is where i'm on right now, you basically need to look for the pieces the page is telling you, and put them where the picture in the page has them. like this, see?" you show him.

he nods slowly, "can i try the next page?" he asks quietly, looking up at you. grinning down at him, you get up, "sure. here, try it."

author's note: bye i hated how i wrote the first one so here's this :,) but i still have the other version saved even though it's literal dog shit

[finniestoncrane]

Fluffy Socks for Dano and Gotham Riddlers. We know the canon ones, but what about Finnieverse's? Do they have any extras untold?

Destructive Habits

Riddler Headcanons finnieverse akhkjhasd ;-; ANYWAY yeah i had a few already but it was fun thinking up some more for them (also i did all the beans i had hcs for related to this oops!) request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: some sexual things! mostly just discussions about problematic behaviour and thoughts

arkham

i don't include it in a lot of my stuff, but i imagine he excessively smokes, like an inordinate and "how are you not dead yet" amount

he's got that obvious tendency towards alienating people, pushing them away so he can't be forced to experience feelings

i know he says that he makes himself perfectly nutritionally balanced meals, but that's such a weird thing to say unless you're an idiot who refuses to admit that they forget to eat, which he does, all the time

and he doesn't get enough sleep, on purpose. it's become like a game to him. how long can he go this time?

gotham

he's obviously got a tendency to be clingy and obsessive, but i imagine it could get to a point where it becomes co-dependency, which isn't great when it's someone who doesn't even know you exist

ignoring his mental health is also a bit of an issue for him. like he's either unable to recognise that he needs help or admitting that his very intelligent brain might have something that needs to be fixed would be too difficult

i also wouldn't put it past him to engage in impulsive/wreckless behaviours without thinking them through, just to see if he can do that. he'd usually so proper and organised, which he's been mocked for before. so the temptation to just go wild is there

young justice

oh my sweet beloved, so smart and ambitious. and yet, he suffers from the worst efforts in procrastination, mostly because he's afraid of failure so he'd rather put off doing something that complete it and do it wrong, let it be schrodinger's task

he's also very bad for being negative about himself to the point where those views have been ingrained in his little head and he believes them wholeheartedly

capullo

the man is a walking destructive habit, but let's start with his proclivity for engaging in risky sexual behaviours, so sex with people he barely knows, sex without protection, ignorance towards sexual health and sti testing, practising kinks without the knowledge or patience. it's a nightmare

he's also a fan of forced incompetence, preferring to act like he can't do anything so that someone else has to wait on him every minute of the day

look, i don't like it, but i think he would cheat on partners, especially if he was in a happy relationship. anything to make sure that he's not pleased in life, y'know?

which, related to that, he just hurts people he loves, or that he could love. that purposeful isolation in a bid to avoid all feelings he isn't comfortable with, which are all the positive ones, unforuntately

dano

oh, the sweet baby has been lured in by gambling and gaming, and for him they go hand in hand. he'll get lost in a video game for hours, dedicating his life to it. and he'll waste a lot of money on it, just to get better or to have the newest skins/upgrades etc. and in life, he gamifies everything, to the point where he'll waste time, money and effort on things that he should be able to just leave alone or ignore. and with the lootbox culture, he's found himself also intrigued by gambling, which he's certain you can be good at. it doesn't come down to luck, apprently

he'll ignore happiness in order to wallow in self-pity, because he's more comfortable with that. he knows what he's doing when he's at home, moping around and lamenting about how no one loves him or cares for him. trying to find love or affection is scary, so he won't do it

and, a typical chronically online boy, he is addicted to doom-scrolling. he'll purposefully seek out horrible news and avoid the good stuff, and he'll compare himself to everyone else he sees online just to bolster the self-pity and poor self-image

[duchi-nesten]

Grayghost for the ask game!

it's been one hundred years, but i have not forgotten to answer the 983478349 of these i have left in my inbox.

-

Valerie was so ready to finally, officially, fully kill Danny.

Don't get her wrong, she really loved her boyfriend a lot. After all the secrets were out, they really bonded and were now dating for almost 4 years.

Since their anniversary was coming up, they both decided to celebrate it by going on a roadtrip across a few neighboring states. They've been saving money for this the whole year!!!

When summer break hit (they were in college now (rip)) they wasted no time, packing Valerie's new (old) car to the roof and going off into the unknown. (unknown = usa)

Valerie insisted that she was gonna be the one to drive the whole time. She didn't really trust Danny and his certified Fenton Driving SkillsTM to not wreck her car.

Danny argued for a while, since he didn't want her to drive so much. It was cute how worried he was that she was gonna be too tired or whatever, but she made it very clear to him that she doesn't mind. He was banned from the driver's seat, no matter what.

Unfortunetly, that led to a little issue that Valerie did not think well enough through.

"WE GOT A NUMBER ONE VICTORY ROYALE, YEAH FORTNITE WE BOUT TO GET DOWN (GET DOWN), TEN KILLS ON THE BOARD RIGHT NOW, JUST WIPED OUT TOMATO TOWN."

Danny was in charge of the AUX cord.

And Danny was abusing his AUX cord rights.

Hard.

"Danny, can you PLEASE turn on some NORMAL MUSIC?" Valerie asked for what felt like the 1000th time.

"What do you mean? Chug Jug With You is such a banger." Danny asnwered with the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

"I can survive stuff like All Star and the rickroll, but the shit you've been pulling up is too much." She let go of the steering wheel with one hand just to quickly gesture in the direction of Danny's phone connected to the car. "What even IS THIS?"

"A banger."

"Danny, I beg you."

"Well. You know the rules. One person drives, the other chooses the music." he said, shrugging.

"I can hardly call your playlist music."

He ignored her comment and continued, "You could always... Let me drive. The you can choose the music."

That Little Shit.

She knew he did this on purpose. She realized when he pulled out an already pre-made playlist. This was his plan all along. Maybe she wasn't so far off when she was insiting he was evil those few years ago. He sure as hell could be evil when he wanted to be.

Well, she was definitly not gonna give in. She couldn't let him win this.

"No. You're banned from driving." she said, holding the wheel just a bit tighter when a new song started playing. It sounded like a badly recorded version of Take On Me. She prayed it was only that, but her dreams were crushed when some little kid with the shittiest mic known to humankind started talking over the song.

"Well, that's fine! We get to listen to the legend himself, Mcap Steve!" Danny exclaimed and started singing with the kid about... mining? diamonds?

And calling it singing was generous, all of it was just screaming.

Of all the minecraft songs, he had to choose the one that was giving her an incredible headache.

.

She eventually gave up and let Danny drive after he pulled out this Mcap Steve's entire discography...

Possibly dying in a traffic accident was way better than another minute of that minecraft parody hell.

_____________

@hannahmanderr and I actually made Danny's roadtrip playlist, so you can listen to it and see what torture this boy put his girlfriend through yourself!

[THE PLAYLIST]

Also: Danny's right, those are bangers.

[funnyp3rson]

Enchanting-Henry Hart- 3

♧ The Secret Gets Out Pt.1 ♧

[ ~ I'm not in the mood for you

to be reasonable. ~ ]

Three of the four teens were gathered at the Hart residence to play video games.

"Here I come!"

"No you don't!"

"Here I come!"

"No you don't!"

"Charlotte, you better win, I have money on this!" Briana shouted from her stool in the kitchen. She didn't bother to look up at her friends, who were racing each other on Henry's TV screen.

Henry scoffed, "How rude."

Just then, Jasper came bursting through Henry's front door. "Hey guys! Check this out!" He urged.

"Shush!"

"Not now Jasper!"

"I swear it better be worth my time or else."

Briana shifted her attention from her phone to the curly-haired boy. Jasper switched off the game, despite his friends complaints.

"Just watch the video! It's called Captain Man's big fail!"

"Ooh play it, play it!"

Briana watched as Henry's face contorted into panic, his worry evident. "Hey, look. My bellybutton!" She rolled her eyes at the boy, wondering how on earth he has managed to keep his secret for so long.

"Just play the video." Charlotte said, annoyed.

The teens watched as the news reporter moved to stand next to a very awkward Captain Man.

"We're live in downtown Swellview, where the Phone Shark has struck again. This time, the Phone Shark bit through a dozen people's cellphones, before fleeing the scene. Once again, escaping capture from Captain Man."

The Smith girl looked at the blonde sympathetically. The Phone Shark had been stressing Henry and Ray out for weeks. But, she wasn't allowed to help. One, because she had a bet. And two, it was fun to watch.

------{ Yesterday }------

The two teens had been called to the Man Cave at an ungodly hour (according to Briana) , two o'clock in the afternoon.

The blonde boy had shown up an hour before she did, as it takes her about the same amount of time to fully wake up. When she finally arrived, both of her co-workers were sat at the monitors, analysing the security footage for any clues.

She watched in amusement as annoyance flickered in their eyes. She knew how to find him, but she was going to let their confusion last a little longer.

The older man groaned. "Why haven't we caught this guy yet?" He shouted, grabbing a blaster and fired it at the ceiling.

"I don't know!" Henry responded. He kicked the couch in an attempt to let his frustration out, but all he got was a stubbed toe.

The girl stood by the elevator door, letting this go on for a few more minutes before intervening. 

"Hey, guys?" The two boys ignored her.

"Um, hello?" No response.

Annoyed, she pulled out her laser, and started firing it at her boss.

"Ah!-- I'm okay!" He glared at the teen in front of him. "What do you want?"

"Rude much. Anyway, I was going to tell you guys how to catch the phone shark." She said, matching her bosses glare.

"Uh, I think we know how to catch one criminal. So thanks but you're wasting your own time."

"Yeah, uh-huh. See if you'd listen to me, he'd be in prison right now." She retorted.

Henry watched as his boss sized up to his best friend. He was internally betting, knowing that whatever happened, Briana would win.

"Do you want my help or not? Old man." She sneered.

The man gasped, "How dare you! I'm thirty-two!"

"Anything over twenty nine is old."

"I'm twenty two!"

The blonde boy had had enough with the two's bickering.

"Dude, c'mon, we need the extra help. We both know she's the smarterer one out of us all."

"Smarter, not smarterer." The girl corrected.

"See!"

The man didn't say anything. Though, his glaring continued.

He shook his head. "No! I'm Captain Man, I don't need help from a thirteen year old girl who hasn't had any food from Fred Lobster before!"

"That was before I met you! There wasn't a Fred Lobster where I lived!"

"My point still stands!" He said.

"Okay, fine."

"Cool."

"Good."

"Good."

"If-" She said before she was interrupted.

"Oh, come on!"

"As I was saying," She continued, sending a glare Ray's way. "If you find and capture the Phone Shark in the next three days without any help, then I won't make fun of you and I'll stop being as sarcastic for a month." Ray smirked.

Henry butted in from his seat on the couch. "And what if you win?"

"Then, if you don't catch him in the next three days or you get help, Ray has to sing the wrong song."

Ray smirked and stuck his hand out for the girl to shake. "Deal."

"Deal." She smiled at him.

"This is not going to end well." The Hart boy told himself.

-----{ Present time }-----

Charlotte frowned and looked away from the TV screen. "I feel bad for Captain Man." Sympathy lacing every word.

"It's not Captain Man's fault." Jasper scoffed, taking a sip of his lemonade. "He just needs a better sidekick."

Briana whipped her head round, in concern and disbelief. Jasper was in for it now.

"One more time?" Henry said, glaring at the boy.

Jasper shrugged, "Just saying, I'd be way better at catching bad guys than Kid Danger."

Henry looked at the boy in disbelief, Briana shaking her head. "You couldn't catch butt warts!"

"Here we go." Briana muttered, turning her attention back to her phone, letting the two boys squabble.

"I think Kid Danger does a great job!" Henry defended, visibly upset at his friend's statement. He stood up quickly to glare at the other boy.

"Why are you getting all mad?" Charlotte questioned.

"Because!" He trailed off.

The three of them motioned for him to continue.

"Jasper's being unfair!"

Bri giggled. "Henry's so desperate, he's going after the superheros."

"Dude."

"Really? What about Bianca?" Jasper and Charlotte both said.

"What? No!" He responded, glaring at the girl that was about to fall off her seat in laughter. " I just think it's unfair to criticise that Kid Danger guy when he's probably doing the best he can! People should be fair! You know? Fairness. I'm pro-fair!"

The boy huffed and fell back onto the couch, his body draped across the arm and seat. Bri quickly moved next to him.

"We need to talk about your secret keeping skills, or lack there of." She whisper-shouted. He glared at her.

"It's not my fault! They were insulting me!"

"No, they were insulting Kid Danger."

"I'm not in the mood for you to be reasonable."

"But they don't know its you."

"So! It still makes me feel sad." He pouted.

She looked at him, her eyes softening at his tired face. Huffing, she grabbed his hand. "If it makes you feel better, I trust you more than Jasper to save my life."

"Anyone who wants to live would say that."

She tilted her head in agreement. "True. But my point still stands!"

"Right." His head lulled across the arm of the couch.

Deep down he knew she was correct. Jasper didn't know how hard it was to be an actual sidekick, as it is harder than it looks. Henry was scared, his life was in line every time he answered an emergency call, and Briana knew this. She was there for him, as he would be for her. 

He snapped out of his thoughts before anyone noticed that he was zoned out. Piper had not long come back and started her usual routine of shouting at Jasper. Briana's laughs were infectious, causing the others to laugh at Jasper's cover of the cup song.

I got my ticket for the long way round

Two bottles of- wait dang it

I'll never be pitch perfect!

It wasn't long before he joined in, the groups laughter filling the living room's atmosphere. He lifted his head up as the laughter died down, just as Piper had burst through the door. Only then did he tune into the conversation.

"How'd you get that video?"

"She must've swiped my thumb drive!" Jasper accusingly exclaimed.

"You're so bad!"

Briana smirked, "I taught you well, kid."

"Bri." Charlotte said, throwing her a disappointed glare.

Henry sat up and rolled his eyes at the two girls. "Piper, you better not put that video online."

"I won't." Jasper exhaled in relief as the youngest Hart sibling said this. "As long as Jasper carries me to Marla's house."

"No!" The boy protested. Piper glared at him for a few seconds before the boy sighed and gave in.

He picked Piper up and headed for the door. 

Briana stood up from her seat. "Hey!" She said catching everyone's attention. "Remember, if he goes too slow, kick him in the sides!" This made the boy huff and groan as the girl on his back repeatedly kicked his sides as he walked.

After a beat of silence, Henry's watch beeped. Charlotte looked at him questionably, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Why does your watch always beep?" She asked.

Briana and Henry exchanged glances before Henry started stuttering out words.

"Um- uh, it just means they want me and Bri at work. Bye!" He said, grasping Briana's arm as she was trying to take a sip of water, which made her spill it down herself. They had managed to make it to the door before Charlotte stopped them.

"It's Sunday! Junk N' Stuff is closed!"

"We just have to tell all the customers." Henry said before dragging Briana out the door and through the porch.

As soon as he let go, she smacked his arm sharply.

"Don't ever do that to me again!"

"Do what?"

"First you make me spill water down my t-shirt, now look at the big wet patch! Secondly, you really couldn't come up with a better excuse? Huh?"

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I could've done better."

"Good, now let's go to the Man Cave before Ray gets mad."

He nodded and followed her to Junk N' Stuff.

[despair-to-future-arcs]

You’re insulting Nagi’s friend Akane.

Ye-Yeah... I notice I did, sorry about that...

It's fine, as say I won't let any personal bias effect a session.

But anyway, do you remember anything else after that?

It was a lot of stuff that happen, I was focus on training, the teacher being an ass and the other stuff...

But then we got that tragedy of Hope's Peak and of course realizing that the school never gave 2 damns about us!

...

...

...

Date: December 29th, 2011

Akane, it's your turn - you have anything to say to the teacher here?

Pl-Please...ju-just stop...!

Hmm, now what say to you?

I could beat the crap out of you but I feel that be too easy and as say, I'm not good with the complicated stuff so I'll keep mine brief.

Honestly miss, your quite pathetic and weak...

We-Weak, patheitic?! How dare you say that about me you-!

Going to call me an idiot, dismiss me or whatever? Honestly I feel that your someone I should not be paying attention to.

The reason I ignore you is because all you do is use words and not fighting, I know for sure I wouldn't waste my time with someone that wants a reaction out of me and I told others to do the same, as ignoring you would be easier.

But then Nekomaru got that heart attack and you didn't allow him to get a heart transplant! You realize that he could of died because of you, do you even give a damn at all or do you not care about any of us and want the others to suffer?!

Coach Nekomaru was training me and you screw that all up because you didn't want him to get help, if anything your the pathetic idiot that thinks she knows anything when she doesn't and constantly insist that I'm gonna be some house wife when I'm not interested in having a family! So stay the hell away from me and the others, you don' t deserve forgiveness!

waaaaaah, I-I'm soooorry!

And of course you cry, how annoying - anyway, I say my piece so I'll leave the others to say what needs to be say...

...

...

...

*After the teacher ran off, Akane headed outside and answer the phone*

Is...is this for real? Was this... happening to you?

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

Don't worry, I wasn't too effected by it and even ignore her since all she talk was nonsense.

But if curious, we all are planning to drop out - I'm sure you saw all that, didn't you?

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

Yeah... me, Yota and the older kids saw it, while Ryo... Ryo still wants you to attend that school.

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

What? But...but you saw that, didn't you?

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

Well yeah, we did but she doesn't care as long as you get money and even then, she started to rely on others now...

She's... she's forcing me to drop out of middle school to get a job, same with Yota too and...and I just...!

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

Wait are you serious?! How the hell is that fair to any of you, that makes no sense at all!

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

Well yeah and trust me, no one wants to do that; I'm just... I'm at my ropes end here and thinking of running away.

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

I see... (I guess that's how it is, figures...)

Hey... Hinata? Maybe you, me and Yota could move on and live on our own.

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

Wait...what did you say just now?!

'I had plan that after we drop out, me along with Hinata and Yota were all gonna leave home and live on our own, I know that we be abandoning the little ones but I think I grown tired of it and I think the other siblings were too...'

[tekeruthechaotictrap]

Lament of a Nobody (Chapter 5)

Meeting Calvin "Freckle" McMurray

Yet again Ivy finished dragging John to another stranger to the Russian Blue. This time someone with a young face accompanied by Rocky, who would immediately recognise John.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Purple pants!"

"I thought I told you not to call me that" John would say already annoyed.

"Oh that's right, you mentioned you met Rocky already. So that means I just have to introduce you to one person!" Ivy would exclaim, rushing towards the ginger and grabbing onto his arm. "This is Calvin, though we tend to call him Freckle! He's Rocky's cousin and my boyfriend!"

Calvin meekly waved at John and uttered a small "Hello, nice to meet you."

"Pleasure to meet you too Calvin." John would reply.

"He's pretty quite, but just as cute!" Ivy would say, causing Freckle to blush. "He's also pretty new here too, so you've got something in common!"

"So what is your job than Calvin?" John queried.

"Freckle here's our muscle!" Rocky would reply before Freckle could even attempt to. "I know my cousin here doesn't look like much, but he's great with a gun. You should see him out there! Just..." Rocky would proceed to make juvenile gun sound affects while miming out some shooting, before laughing maniacally.

"I... see..." John would say, clearly quite perturbed. "Could have let the man answer for himself, but I suppose at least I know now."

"Yeah Rocky, let him answer for himself. Got anything you want to add Freckle?" Ivy would say.

Freckle opened his mouth for a few seconds, before closing it again and shrugging.

"Well..." Ivy muttered. "Ummm. Oh! He's also quite the handyman! It's not his job but he does like fixing things up."

"Y-yeah. It gives me something good to do when there's nothing else." Freckle would state.

"A useful skill for sure, saves money one could waste hiring another to help." John would say. Giving a small, polite smile.

"Glad to see this is at least going smoother than it did with Viktor." Ivy would say. "Unlike that conversation you boys seem to be getting along just fine.... well, by you boys I mean Freckle and John. Something tells me John and Rocky's relationship is well... Rocky, for lack of a better word."

"We had an altercation-" John said.

"He made me fall to the ground!" Rocky interrupted, causing John to glare at him for a few seconds.

"However, I am willing to ignore that for the sake of having an amicable environment at work here." He continued.

"Glad to hear it my compatriot! Truce then?" Rocky would say, going for a handshake.

"Yes, I suppose so." John would say, returning the handshake.

"Did.... did you get any of that Freckle?" Ivy asked.

"Most I got is they fought. And I guess they're making up now?" He replied.

"Well at least they're getting along now! Gonna make life for John here that much easier!" Ivy said walking towards John and playfully nudging him. "Welcome to the Speakeasy! I promise you'll have a lot of fun here!"

The 4 of them continued to mingle for a few minutes in casual conversation. They seemed to be getting along well, welcoming the new colleague. Allowing a living question mark into their lives.

"Come on!" Exclaimed Ivy. "Not even a little clue about what your real name is?"

"Of course not Ivy, what would be the point of an alias otherwise!" John would reply.

"John Doe?" A small voice would speak out from outside the quartet, it was Horatio. John turned to him. "Mrs M wants to see you to give you your first job. She wants you to see her in her office."

"Alright, thank you Horatio." John would say, straightening his fedora. "Well I suppose I must go for a few minutes, pleasure to meet you all."

Ivy, Freckle and Rocky all returned the sentiment leaving John to go towards Mitzi's office.