#but you know what. it'll last for long enough

[issues4him]

Angst request

Pregnancy scare maybe when Hunter is 4-5 and the kids are older and they both decided after Hunter they were done but rage hasn’t gotten a vasectomy yet and sahm is either not on BC or bad at taking it haha

Mom freaks out and gets overwhelmed thinking about it and Rafe doesn’t see what’s wrong with a fourth baby but mom says they agreed on having just three kids and they kinda fight over it and when mom finds out she isn’t pregnant/false positive or something

Her and Rafe make up and talk and he understands why she is so against a fourth baby bc of how difficult her last pregnancy was and I so see him getting a vasectomy to ease readers worries and so she doesn’t have to take BC and put hormones in her body anymore

sahm!reader and blue collar!rafe have a pregnancy scare after their 3rd

cw: so much angst, unwanted pregnancy by reader, mention of vasectomy

a/n: i decided to change it up just a bit to fit their storyline a little better! <3

it starts as a whisper of dread. you’re standing at the sink, rinsing a bowl of berries wren begged for, when it hits you again—that slow, queasy roll in your stomach that makes you grip the counter and blink through the nausea. it’s the third time this week. you’re not sick. you’re not overtired. you’ve been through this feeling before, and your body is screaming at you in a language it already knows: you’re late.

you try to rationalize it. you’ve been stressed. the kids have been wild. you haven’t been sleeping. but that little voice in the back of your head—the one that gets louder every time you glance at the calendar—won’t let it go. it’s been ten days. you slip into the bathroom once hunter goes down for his nap. you lock the door and lean your forehead against the cool wood for a moment before you reach into the cabinet. the test is shoved in the back, half-forgotten but never really out of mind.

it's nearly impossible to tell if there's a perpendicular line or not it's so faint, but you crumble anyway. you drop to the cold tile, your knees hitting it hard, hands trembling so badly the test slips from your grip. your breath comes too fast, too sharp, and suddenly your chest is tight and your head is swimming and all you can hear is the sound of your own fear. the air feels too thick. you taste salt.

not again. you had told him. after hunter, no more. the tears, the exhaustion, the loneliness that clung to you like fog even months after giving birth. the fact that hunter didn't almost make it and had to spend over 15 days in the nicu. it was all too much. you told rafe in quiet, desperate whispers one night while he rubbed your aching back and kissed the crown of your head, “i can’t do this again. i love our babies, but i can’t put myself through that again.”

but now you’re holding a test with the faintest pink line and the weight of another pregnancy suffocating you like a wet blanket.

you don’t tell him right away. he’s been gone since sunrise, running on fumes and black coffee, out at a job site over an hour away. by the time he walks through the front door—sweaty, sunburned, wearing that worn-out carhartt shirt that clings to every muscle—you’ve barely stopped crying long enough to rinse your face. he smiles the second he sees you in the kitchen, but the second he sees your face—he stops. his boots pause mid-step and his brow furrows, “hey, baby. what’s wrong?”

you swallow hard. you can’t say it. so instead, you hold out the test, barely able to look at him. his eyes drop to it. he takes it from your hands slowly.

and then—he grins, “no way,” he breathes, a little awe in his voice. “you’re serious?”

you say nothing. he looks up again. his grin falters, “w-baby, why are you crying?”

you step back like his touch might hurt. your voice comes out hoarse, thick with emotion, “because i didn’t want this, rafe.”

the air between you sharpens like glass. rafe’s face shifts. the joy disappears so fast you can almost hear it shatter, “baby it'll be okay--” he asks, blinking.

“no, rafe—"

“the hell you mean, no?”

“no! i thought you’d be devastated just like me! you saw what happened last time! you saw me fall apart. and i told you—i told you i couldn’t go through that again—”

“so what?” his voice rises, not angry but wounded. “you just decided for both of us?”

“i decided for me. for my health, rafe. for what i know i can and can’t handle. and right now? i can’t.”

his jaw flexes. his hands run through his hair. you’re both breathing hard, chest to chest, but a mile apart, “you're makin' it sound like having our kids ruined you or somethin'.”

that stops you cold. you blink at him like he just slapped you, “you think i don’t love our babies?”

“i don’t know what to think right now,” he mutters, voice cracking.

and then—you snap. the tears come again. not from fear. but from heartbreak. you shove the box of tests back at him. “i’m taking another one.”

ten minutes later, you stand in the doorway with two more tests in your hand. negative. rafe’s sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, elbows on his knees. you don’t say anything. just hold them out in his line of sight. he lifts his head, sees the results, and sighs—deep, long, slow. it doesn’t sound like relief. it sounds like grief. neither of you speak.

the silence lasts most of the night. you don’t touch during dinner. you don’t talk while folding laundry. the house feels heavier than usual. like the air’s too thick. like something sacred broke and neither of you know how to glue it back together.

but that night, after the kids are asleep, you find him on the porch. he’s leaning against the railing, shirtless, smoking a cigarette he probably swore off two months ago, just watching the stars. you step outside barefoot, arms crossed over your chest, the wood cool against your skin. he doesn’t look at you, but he speaks softly, “i’m sorry.”

you walk up to him slowly, letting your shoulder brush his, “me too.”

he puts the cigarette out and turns toward you, cupping your face in both hands. his voice is rough and cracked open, “i never meant to make you feel alone in this.”

“and I never meant to shut you out,” you whisper. “i just… i got scared.”

he leans down and kisses your forehead. “maybe it’s time i go get it done.”

your brows pinch, “what?”

“the vasectomy.” he shrugs. “if it means you don’t have to feel this kind of panic again? then yeah. i’m in.”

your eyes sting again, but not from fear this time. just… love. so much love you don’t know where to put it. you wrap your arms around his waist and press your face into his chest, letting him hold you the way he always does—like nothing else matters.

and maybe one day, this will just be a memory. a scare. a moment of fear. but tonight you fall asleep in his arms, not pregnant. not broken.

just safe.

[cas-couture]

cas couture.

cas couture is an upcoming community-based sim magazine focused on fashion. what sets cas couture apart is that we will not allow permanently paywalled cc to be featured in the magazine and aim to highlight the numerous, talented cc creators in the community :)

we are looking for simblrs who would like their stories/cc/creations/sims/pretty-much-anything ADVERTISED (for free, this is not a cash grab) in the APRIL 2025 ISSUE!

as cas couture is community driven, we need YOUR participation!

( more info under the cut !!! )

we want to put the spotlight back on this community and appreciate active simblrs. we want to encourage blog interaction and actually make the community ~feel like a community!

what will advertising look like?

sponsoring might look different across different spreads, it might be an ad for a movie/ tv series (i.e., this would advertise a sim story), an ad for a product/ designer (i.e., this would advertise a CC creator) and so on.

we're pretty much open to advertising anything! :) if you have any ideas for how you would like your creation advertised, let us know!

what are the requirements to sponsor?

you must be 18+ to apply

this is for fun!!!! pls remember that :) and also pls don’t be zionists or trumpies or homophobes or racist or anything else awful because :( and that’ll be another reason why we can’t have nice things :(

submit this sponsorship form (set aside 10 mins to fill this out, if your sponsorship is accepted, have some pictures/content ready that you would like us to use!)

reblog this post so i know ur for real about wanting to advertise!!

you would reblog and boost and interact with the April issue when it releases on April 11 :) (this would run on an honor system because I'm not a weirdo, but........ like if not enough people do it, it probably won't be worth the effort of making all the ads if no one's going to read the first issue/ interact with it? the point of cas couture IS blog interaction!!!!)

deadline to submit a sponsorship form is April 1. if you are making your own advertisement, it is April 10.

faq

i'm an editor for the magazine already, can I apply to sponsor?

yes, you totally can! we would just request you still fill out the form and once we confirm your sponsorship, we would just ask you to make your own advertisement, as it would probably be the quickest method :)

can I make my own advertisement as a sponsor?

yes, you totally can! once you're accepted as a sponsor, we will send you more information on the canvas size and other regulations <3

how many advertisements are you accepting?

there is no set number, it's more like... how many advertisements we can crank out in time for April 11 :) if you are willing to create your own advertisement and submit it by April 10th, the chances are 99.999% that we would accept :)

why is reblogging this post a requirement in order to apply for sponsorship?

because it'll show that you're truly willing to ruin your impeccable feed with simblr community content! if you're not willing to do it now, you probably won't want to later :( cas couture can only fuel itself on my hopes and dreams for so long until it burns out :( the aim is for blog interaction, making (age-appropriate) friends and having a good time!!!!

thank you for supporting cas couture! you're helping fund the nepo babies'-- i mean, interns'-- matcha addictions-- i mean, education!

asking da community for some support <3

as this is totally a community project, i'm going to tag some community members who really helped the last post reach the masses (I'm sorry, I'm annoying for tagging!!!) and current editors (I'm going off the top of my head, I'm sorry if I miss anyone!!!) on the team for the April issue!!!! if you don't like to be tagged, I'm sorry!!!!! <3333

@householdbinary @jokiyo @simafrassx @olivetelfie @my-kwy @southernfriedsims-blog @ratwoman161 @harvestsims @mmonetsims @kdplayssss @liyahssims @fairytailtow @crazy-hazy-sims @aliengirl @strangegrapefruit @thebramblewood @thefoxburyinstitute @missatan

psst, we're still accepting editors for the April issue!!! learn more about the roles available here!

[ryemiffie]

I don't think a lot of people realise that Jason would not have just forgiven Bruce, moved on, and been happy to rejoin the family if Batman had killed the Joker during the whole Red Hood monologue thing.

Because then the problem wouldn't be "Why didn't you avenge me?" It would become "Why did I have to ask you to?" There would have still been so many problems they would've had to work through, and I don't think Jason's anger and resentment would've just melted away if Bruce had killed Joker then. It wouldn't have mattered, Jason wanted to be avenged by the loving dad he thought he had, he didn't want to have to beg to feel cared about.

It wasn't just about the action of killing Joker, it's what killing Joker would have meant. If Batman had killed Joker after Jason's death, it would have meant something, it would have meant "you took my son from me and that's a pain I'll die with, so it's a pain you'll die with too." It would have meant he couldn't handle the idea of any other fathers losing their son to such a man, any other parent, any other friend, any other colleague, any other person suffering such a fate. But he didn't do it then. If he killed Joker after Jason had to yell that Joker's death is what he wanted, it wouldn't have met the same thing. The meaning would become, "You're dying today to satiate the anger of the Red Hood, you're death is a bargaining chip, you're death is just to comfort a dead man."

Do I believe Jason would have a moment of relief if Batman had killed Joker in that moment? Yes, but I don't think the relief would be because he believes that Bruce did this because he loves him, and I don't think the relief would last. Not long enough.

After Batman kills Joker in that moment, a smile would spread across Jason's face, a satisfaction, but then that satisfaction would leave him and so would his smile, it would all melt away and he'd be once again stuck with his anger, but now he wouldn't know what to do to fix it, he'd be scared, terrified that nothing could fix him, that nothing could fix the anger and pain of a dead boy, even revenge, even a father's supposed love. He'd cry, the tears would come slow at first, he doesn't know why they're there at first, he doesn't even feel them in the beginning, he thinks perhaps they are happy tears. But then Bruce says his name, not Batman, Bruce, "Jason?" He says, and he sounds scared too, like he doesn't know what to do, not just with Jason but with himself.

Jason realises what he's made his father do, and now he realises it doesn't matter, he feels no different, he doesn't feel loved and cared for, he still feels like a corpse, when Joker's heart stopped Jason's didn't resume. And Jason didn't know why. He had read so many fairytales, when he was young he'd sit in the library for hours devouring books, and when he was in the league he read so much to Damian. All those fairytales, they all said the same thing, to break the curse, to wake the forgotten love, right the wrong, put things how they were meant to be. Why didn't that work? The wrong had been righted, the Joker was dead by the Batman's hand at his son's order, why didn't he feel better than? Because this wasn't a fairytale, this was gotham, this was the curse of loving a man like Batman, he'll never love you back, and if he does? It'll always be too late.

Jason cries, it's ugly, it's painful, it's neverending. And Batman hugs him, he clings to his son's body, holds him as close as possible in the hope it'll save the both of them from the darkness that spills from their souls, but Bruce knows it won't, and Jason now does too. Nothing could fix Jason, nothing could comfort him, nothing could stop the violent anger that burned within him, and now he had condemned his father to the same fate. As he sobbed he yelled, "Why didn't you kill him all those years ago?! Why did I have to claw my way out of my own grave to get you to care?! Why did I have to beg you to end the pain?!" He was mad, so mad, and it didn't go away when the Joker died, it just went deeper, rooted itself further into him, tore its way through his soul till the thing was rotten in pieces with grief. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, this should have fixed things, this should have made things better, but it didn't, it wasn't fair. Quietly, no longer yelling, he whispers into his father's impenetrable suit of armour, "Why does it still hurt?" There's no answer, he doesn't expect one.

Soon he will break out of Bruce's hold, he will run and never look back, he will hide and he will cry for days, he will pray Bruce doesn't come looking, because if he has to see his father now, after what's happened, he may just die again.

[fullymyself]

Drowning

Pairing: Matt Murdock X Reader

Word count: 2,406

Prompts: "I love you" "It'll pass" from Fleabag, and I also added a bit of one of my favourite songs, Hymm To Virgil by Hozier (it's very Matt)

Warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of injury and reader gets into a fight

Notes: Hello! This is my entry for @elixirfromthestars Cinema Writing Challenge! I've been away from writing for a few years now. The last time I wrote anything, it was the begging of the pandemic and I ended up stopping completely and deleting my Tumblr account during that time. It was pretty hard to come back and it's been such a long time, so I can't help but feel really anxious with posting again, so I wanted to thank Mel for this wonderful challenge that made me get back into writing!

English is not my first language so please forgive me for any mistakes, if I re-read this fic one more time I'm gonna give in to my anxiety and not post it. Hope you enjoy it and sorry for the angst!

Divider by @enchanthings-a

''Matt, stop!" Your voice echoes in the apartment, louder than you meant it to and high enough to make him stop rushing his way up the stairs. "If you're really doing this, when... if you come home, there'll be no one waiting for you."

That gets his full attention and he turns around on the steps, facing you. The fire behind his expression lowers and through the cracks you can see the hurt starting to sip through. He opens his mouth but you cut him off. "Don't start with your excuses, Murdock, I'm done with it. Call it whatever you want to make yourself feel better, this isn't right. I've known about your demons, I've accepted them and you know damn well I've got my own but this..." You step closer to him so you can push against the leather covering his chest. "This was meant to be a symbol, this was hope, justice... not an excuse for you to go around acting like the people you fight against"

"I-" His voice cracks and you can see the tears forming in his eyes, you  know he  can read your emotions better than anyone and you're sure he can tell how serious and hurt you are. You have to close your eyes and breathe, fighting against every instinct that tells you to comfort him. You know you're right and you're not backing down now. "I've got to do this. They won't stop hurting innocent people, people we love, if I don't stop them. I need to protect you, Foggy, Karen..."

"Don't put this on us. If you keep trying to justify this with some noble excuse instead of recognizing you're doing this for yourself, for your pride, your pain, your vengeance... you're gonna end up like the men you're sacrificing everything to fight against. " You fight the tears threatening to fall and your throat burns in protest. "What will happen when you run out of people to hide behind, Matt?"

"You're right." You step back needing to put as much distance as possible between the two of you, knowing damn well it'd take every bit of strength you had to walk away from him. "I don't understand." You quickly grab your phone and coat and make your way to the door.

"You don't understand..." You look at him, incredulous and hurt, and can't help but scoff. You've been by his side, through the bad and the ugly. You've seen Matthew Murdock, the righteous church boy turned attorney. You've held him when his world was crashing down, you've been together through loss, grief, happiness, pleasure... but you'd also seen the devil of Hell's Kitchen. You'd seen the anger come out, the hatred, the desire to hurt and make people pay. Retribution, revenge, payback... and even then, when the world shrieked in fear, you had stood by his side and loved every part of him.

Before you can register it, he's in your way, hands hesitantly reaching out to you. "Wait, Y/N, I can't... I can't do this without you"

"And I can't do this with you. I won't sit here and wait for you to become the same monster you've been fighting." You push past him and he doesn't resist.

As you're making your way through the door, you hear his voice for the last time, and it takes everything in you to not turn around. His voice is soft and cracking with the effort to keep his pain at bay - it's all Matthew and no Devil. "I love you"

"It will pass" You say resolutely as the door closes behind you, trying more to convince yourself than him, even though it feels like you clawed your heart out of your chest and left it in the hands of the man you loved.

You walk aimlessly through the streets of a damned city praying to a God you weren't even sure you believed in to keep him safe, to let him come back home safe and with his soul intact.

It's only once you're blocks away and you're sure he can't hear you that you allow the tears to slip out. It's pretty much impossible to keep the panic at bay when all you can think is that Matt might not comeback from this fight and you didn't say it back.

_

Months passed, somehow both too quickly and tortuously slowly. You hadn't seen Matt again and did everything you could to keep yourself from hearing about him too - even though every cell of your body missed him, you had to remain away from him or you knew you'd fold.

Karen had helped you get your things out of the apartment so you wouldn't have to go back. Foggy had also offered to help you with... well, everything, but you couldn't ask him to choose a side in this.

In order to keep yourself sane you had an agreement with the both of them, no talks of Matt or Daredevil when you met -  usually at Josie's where the so called drinks would help you forget for at least a few hours just how fucked the past months had been.

They'd make sure your get togethers would happen when Matt was too busy with work or with his side gig to go out so you wouldn't have to worry about awkward soul crushing encounters.

The second agreement was unspoken but it was clear as day - if Matt was hurt or in serious danger you'd be the first to call. No details were ever given, unless you asked, and the calls usually lasted only a few seconds in which a crying Foggy would try to sound tough but would end up only whispering a ''He's safe, you can rest.''

But turns out maybe you should have had an agreement about you as well.

_

It was a stupid move, you were well aware, but when it happened you really didn't think before you acted.

You were on your way back home from work when you heard a woman scream and saw man running down the street in your direction. A brown haired woman ran out of a building, several bruises covered her face and she struggled to shout a plea for someone to stop the man.

You acted on instinct and became an obstacle on the man's path. He collided with you full on, throwing both of you to the floor with extraordinary force, your whole body aching on impact.

''You fucking bitch!'' He shouted scrambling to get up as you grabbed his arm, trying to keep him down as long as possible as the sound of sirens kept getting closer.

Suddenly, as the streets got illuminated by red and blue lights, the man grabbed a fistful of your hair, his other hand coming down to strike your face. 

It hurt like bitch and destabilised you long enough for the man to get away, only to be tackled down by police a few feet away.

_

It was definitely going to bruise, you thought to yourself as you examined your face on the mirror, but other than that and a few cuts and scrapes you were okay - physically at least.

After the day you had, being alone in your apartment and having to take care of yourself, was incredibly hard. You couldn't help but imagine that this must be a fraction of what Matt felt when he would get home after a hard night and just wanted to be held.

There's a faint knock on your window when you go back to the living room, and you turn around to find Matthew pearched on the fire escape. You don't know if your heart is beating uncontrollably because of the jumpscare he manged to give you or because he's actually in front of you after all this time - if you had to guess, probably both.

Hesitantly you make your way to the window and let him in. He's not wearing his usual red getup, rather his older black attire. You know he wears it when he needs to do something he doesn't want the media to associate with Daredevil but you can't help how it tugs at your heart - this was the Matt you first met and fell in love with.

Matt keeps shifting where he stands, clearly uncomfortable and not knowing how to proceed. It's only when you talk that his body relaxes a bit and he reaches up to lift the cloth hiding his face. "Hi, Matthew." Against all the conflicting feelings and hurt, your voice is soft around his name, making it sound heavy and sweet - like an indulgent bite of your favourite treat. He takes a long, deep breath, savouring the way his name sounds coming from your lips. ''How did you know?'' This time, your voice is harsher, pointed at him with sharp edges.

''Police radio'' Of course he did. You take a deep breath but don't respond. There's a part of you that wishes he'd known because he was keeping tabs on you not because of some random police message, but you're not willing to listen to it, so you justify your annoyance with having your privacy violated, with knowing that even after all this time he still knew things about yourself without you having to say a word while you could not be certain of anything when it came to him even when he'd talk to you.

After a while he moves, hands reaching out with so much hesitation, torn between being afraid you'll step away from him and being afraid you'll open up again and he might hurt you. Seeing the man that had touched you so freely and adoringly before hesitating so much broke your heart.

You met him half way, gently guiding his warm hand to your face. The almost featherlight touch sent shivers down your body and you had to fight against leaning onto it, for the sake of your bruised face and your sanity.

''Are you okay?'' His voice was sweet but there was something else lingering beneath it as his fingers examined your face, lightly touching the feaverish skin of your bruised cheek and trailing down to the small cut on your lips. His jaw tightened with anger.

''I'm okay, just got a few bruises and scratches, nothing I can't handle.'' You try to reassure both him and yourself, clinging to the words you had repeated like a mantra for the past months - I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay...

''You know that's not what I'm asking.'' There's a faint smile on his lips, one burdened with sadness and acknowledgement. He always knew you too well for your own sake. ''How are you?''

You know he can assess how you are physically, probably better than any doctor, and though he knows you well enough to know how you might feel, he can't read your mind. So, with the mess of thoughts running through your head you settle with being as honest as you can. ''I don't know.''

And you really don't. The past months have been an amalgamation of intense and opposing feelings. There's the part of you that is hurt, tired and that wants to scream at him for everything that happened. But there's also the part of you that loves him, that has longed for him and that just wants to be in his arms. Trying to fall out of love with him is like trying to breath underwater, having your lungs fill with water day after day while telling yourself that everything was okay.

Before the tears turn into sobs, Matt pulls you into his arms. You stay like that for god knows how long, he just let's you cry while he holds you. His hand moves through your hair in an attempt to soothe you and when you finally stop crying he doesn't let you go, pressing a kiss to the top of your head but only tightening his arms around you. Now that you're calmer, you can feel how much his hands are shaking.

"I know I'm in no position to ask you this but please never do anything like that again." Now that he speaks again you realize he's been crying as well, his voice heavy and hoarse. All you can do is nod against his chest.

More time goes by until you finally muster up the courage to speak again. "What are we now, Matt?"

He takes a while to speak, and just as you think he's not going to, he sighs. "I don't know." There's a pause as he let's go of you. He brushes away the hair sticking to your wet cheeks and cups your face, forcing you to look at him. "But I need you to know that everything you said to me that night was true, and I was too much of an idiot to see it." He sighs again, and you can see the hesitation on his features. "Everything was true but one thing... it didn't pass, and I don't think it ever will. I love you, and I don't care about what we are, I would burn the world to bring some heat to you. That won't change if we're friends, acquaintances, friends of friends... I just can't be a stranger. I wanna be a part of your life, anyway you'll have me."

He's the man without fear, yet the only thing you can see on him is how afraid he is as he waits for you to say anything.

"I fought against it with everything I had, and it almost broke me, Matt." It's your turn to touch his face and he does not show the same control you had before. He leans  his face against the palm of your hand and all but moans with the feeling. "It's impossible to fall out of love with you." Carefully and slowly, you move to press your lips against his.

God knows the problems are not solved between the two of you, there will still be battles to be fought and arguments to be had. But as you lay on the couch listening to his heartbeat and talking honestly about everything that you hadn't had the courage to talk about before, you realize this is how the world is meant to be. For the first time in months you feel like you're no longer drowning.

If you're here, hi!!! Thank you so so so much for reading and I really hope you enjoyed it! Feedback is very much appreciated.

If you liked this fic, I'm trying to get back to writing so I'm accepting requests and I'm also planning on rewriting some fics I wrote in the past, if any of these catch your eye let me know cause I have no idea with which one to start:

Bucky Barnes X Maximoff!Reader - the story is based on the movie Practical Magic and the reader was raised alongside Pietro and Wanda. The siblings ended up growing apart in recent years, that is until the day Bucky Barnes showed up at your door with Wanda passed out in his arms. Now you're confronted not only with your family but it's curse.

Bucky Barnes X Reader - the story is based on the movie While You Were Sleeping. You work at a café and have a secret crush on Steve Rogers, the super soldier who has been coming to the shop every week to grab a coffee and sketch. One day, he is attacked right in front of the café and, even though you manage to save his life, he falls into a deep coma. All it takes is one misplaced comment and now the whole hospital and the Avengers think you're Steve's secret fiancée. What's worst is that now you find yourself falling for his best friend.

Aaand that's it! Thank you so much again and I hope you have a great day!

[aro-of-argentum]

Red Dahlia- Chapter 7

WC: 10,895

Notes: Oops I made it huge. There's a bunch going on in this chapter. Reader gets flowers at work, there's a bank robbery, Dick gives advice, Jason has a hard time talking about feelings (with reader or anybody for that matter), a classic "I think I know you" scene, and then a big ol' misunderstanding right there at the end. Don't worry, it'll get fixed next chapter. Heads up, the reader uses a gun in this one, no one dies though. Have fun!

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

Previous Chapter, Masterlist, Next Chapter

Chapter 7:

Getting up for work the next morning was a slog. Your boss had called in the middle of the night saying they needed coverage for the day, and you took the shift knowing the overtime would be incredible. You were regretting it now. Still though, you found the energy deep inside you to get up and get in the shower, and actually even had time to pick up breakfast and coffee on your way in to work. No sooner than you had walked in the door, Marcy found you.

“Ugh, there you are!” She stormed over to your locker and gratefully took a bite of your sandwich when you offered it. Through the food in her mouth, she continued to speak. “I’m so happy you’re here for the last couple hours of my shift.” She swallowed and her speech became clear once again as she handed your breakfast back. “The phleb we had overnight was all over the place. I had turnaround times of hours on easy orders, and when I called the lab to check in on why, they told me they’d never even gotten the blood. Twice. Ugh, I hate incompetent shit heads.”

You heard a locker slam one row over and watched Gavin, the phlebotomist who’d just clocked out, storm out of the room. Your eyes went wide as you looked from him to Marcy pointedly.

She shook her head. “I don’t even care, he needed to hear it.”

“Sometimes I’m so glad you’re convinced I can do no wrong. You’re vicious.”

Marcy shrugged. “Do something wrong and then we’ll talk.”

The two of you laughed for a moment before you turned back to finish putting your things away, handing Marcy the last two bites of your food for her to finish before you both got to work. An hour into your shift you got a page directing you to the front desk. As you approached, you saw a delivery man holding a bundle of a dozen blood red dahlias, beautifully wrapped in black and grey burlap.

“Hi, I’m looking for Y/n?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

“Yeah, uh…” You could hardly take your eyes off the gorgeous flowers. “That’s me.”

He nodded, handing you the bundle before walking away, entirely unfazed by the delivery.

The receptionist that was currently at the desk looked up at you, approval all through his expression and tone when he asked, “Girl, what did you do to get a man to send you flowers like that, and where can I get one?”

You chuckled as a heat spread over your cheeks. “I wouldn’t know where to look, I swear this one fell from the sky.” You smiled as you looked at the bulbs, your other hand coming up to run your fingertips over some of the petals. It hadn’t taken long after Red Hood had picked you up from work on his motorcycle a few weeks ago for seemingly everyone you knew in the hospital to be in on Marcy’s “Who is the secret boyfriend” game. It was easier to just play along than to try to explain.

He shook his head. “Well, you either need to share or you need to get your lovey-dovey out of my face, it’s getting all over me.” There was no malice behind his words, and he even winked at you as you turned to walk away.

Your walk to the lounge was quick, as you didn’t want Marcy to catch you with the flowers, though you were sure she’d find out soon enough anyway. Once you were inside and away from prying eyes, you took a moment to look for a card, and found one tucked between some of the stems.

It was a small white piece of cardstock folded in half, and inside, handwritten in black ink. ‘Thanks for last night.’

A new wave of emotion washed over you, a smile still covering your features as you remembered for a moment what it was like to have his arms around you. He’d been so warm, and smelled of gun-smoke and leather, with the remnants of a cologne you couldn’t quite place. You allowed your mind to wander for only a moment more before you tucked the flowers into your locker as gently as possible and headed back out to the floor.

The rest of the shift went by with ease and even though you were busy, the world seemed to know you were floating in air and didn’t want to bring you down. By the time you were getting ready to leave Marcy was long gone for the day, having sent a “Leaving now :P” text because you were in the middle of a draw when she left. You figured she was likely asleep, but that she’d text you later to hang out, as she always seemed to do when you both had an evening off. In the meantime, you decided a trip to the bank to finally get your debit card replaced was warranted. It was early enough that you could get there well before closing time, and if you got this figured out, you could stop using your phone to pay for groceries. Your face was covered in a smile once again as you pulled the flowers from your locker, quickly followed by your bag, and you set out to head home. The sun would still be up for a little while longer, so you didn’t activate your bracelet. You didn’t want to bother him if he was resting up after being injured, and besides, things weren’t nearly so bad in Gotham when it was still daylight out.

The walk was quick, and you dropped the flowers and your work bag off on the counter before quickly getting changed.  You grabbed the much smaller bag you used for other outings and transferred over all of the essentials: wallet, keys, pistol. You hadn’t needed it since Red started hanging around, but you still brought it everywhere. It was small, meant only to cause damage and be a distraction, and in any real-world situation, it had only ever been used to scare off would-be attackers; you’d never had to actually use it. Still, you kept up with your monthly sessions at the practice range so that if you ever needed it, your aim would be true.

The bank you were headed to was a longer distance than the walk from the hospital to your apartment, but it was certainly still doable. You stayed vigilant as ever as you made your way there, and had plenty of time to spare before closing, which you figured was for the better given how busy they were.

-

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” Jason sent the text, nerves bubbling in his chest, though he knew if there was anyone he could trust with this, it was his brother.

Dick’s reply came back almost immediately. “Sure. I’ll be there in a few to meet with everyone before patrols. Is that fine?”

“Yeah.”

Jason was quick to get downstairs, inhaling a cold slice of pizza in the kitchen before descending into the cave to get dressed.

“Hey,” Dick announced himself so he wouldn’t startle the other man in the room. “What did you want to talk about?”

Jason was working his new shirt with the extra body armor on and struggling a bit because of his arm. It had healed quite a bit so far, but he was hoping it would be a quiet night.

“You know if you told Bruce you got hurt yesterday then you wouldn’t need to worry about this right now.” Dick was already over and helping Jason with the sleeve before his younger brother could get too frustrated with it. He knew there was no way to get Jason to open up if he was pissed, regardless of what he was pissed at.

“Yeah, whatever.” Jason brushed the comment off knowing Dick was just trying to look out for him. “I need advice on something.”

“Like something from yesterday?” He asked, finishing putting Jason’s glove on.

“Thanks, and yeah. I-” Jason’s sentence was cut off when he saw his bracelet light up. “It’s not even dark out…” He mumbled to himself as he tapped the button in return and turned the disc to view the map projection.

Dick shook his head in disbelief. “Hello? Earth to Jason.”

“No. Hang on.” He cut his brother off with a wave of his hand before turning his wrist outward to be more visible to Dick. “Do you know where this is?”

Dick Grayson looked over the small map for a moment before he answered. “I mean, I think there’s a bank over there?”

Not a moment after the sentence came out of Dick’s mouth, an alert went off on the computer. The pair heard Bruce call.

“Everyone in here. Now.”

The entire team, including those that weren’t going on patrol that night filtered into the room. Aside from the two eldest brothers, Cassandra was the only one dressed in her costume, as it was supposed to be the three of them working.

Bruce broke the silence as the younger vigilantes all looked back and forth between one another. “We just got an alert from GCPD. There’s a bank robbery, possible hostage situation, and they won’t get there in time.” He clicked a button and all of the information they had, including the address, showed up on screen.

That’s where you were. “We’ll go,” Jason stated, volunteering himself and Dick.

“Me too,” Cassandra spoke up as well. “We’re all already dressed, we can just patrol afterwards, or call if we need to switch out.”

“Fine, go.”

Bruce released the trio, and they immediately ran to the garage. Jason got on his own motorcycle, while Cassandra got on the back of Dick’s before they rode off.

“How did you know about the bank?” Jason heard his brother ask through the intercom in his helmet.

“What?”

“Your bracelet had a location indicator for the bank over a minute before we got the alert from GCPD. How?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jason shot back.

“But-”

“Drop it.”

Cassandra watched Jason carefully from the back of Dick’s bike as the two drivers wove through traffic to get there as quickly as possible. She noticed the tension in his shoulders, normally non-existent on the way to assignments. Normally, he was more relaxed because he was getting a chance to release some of his pent-up anger in a productive way, but now he seemed more wound up than she’d seen him in a long time. When they got there, she found out why.

The boys stashed the motorcycles in an alley while Cassandra found a way in. There was a perfect window that led out to the lower roof, through which they could see the entire main lobby. The girl from the back of Jason’s motorcycle was in there.

“Hey, isn’t that your girlfriend?” She asked as soon as the boys were next to her by the window.

“Your what?” Dick questioned, head whipping toward Jason.

“We’re not talking about this right now.” The man in the red helmet only stared straight forward through the window, and he saw you pull a pistol from your bag as you crouched behind a sideways table.

“How long have you been hiding this from me?” He was whisper-yelling now.

“Couple months,” Cassandra chimed in, clearly trying to stir the pot as she adjusted her thermal sensors.

“Months?”

“Stop it.” Jason said, rolling his eyes.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” Dick’s hand flew to his chest as though he was a victim and was not paying attention to what was happening inside like the other two were. “Was I just supposed to find out when you got married one day?”

“Relax, it is not that serious,” Jason started. He and Cassandra watched as you jumped out from behind the table and fired four shots, each landing in the hand or shoulder of a different gunman, effectively disabling them, before grabbing a child that was in harm’s way and diving back behind the table. “I think I love her.” It slipped from his mouth without a thought behind it.

Dick went quiet and Cassandra’s eyes went wide in shock as everyone, including Jason, processed what he’d just said. Cassandra’s voice is what finally brought everyone back.

“Okay guys, lock in. There's two at each set of doors and four in the lobby, and one with the branch manager in the back in front of the vault. That’s eleven total, but four are mostly useless now, so I’m saying seven. We good?”

Dick let go of his big brother attitude to fully become Nightwing and give the order to jump into action. He didn’t get a chance before he heard Jason.

“Shit, no-” Red Hood kicked in the window as he flew through it, dropping just inches in front of you where you had stood up to find the mother of the little girl from a moment ago. You hadn’t seen one of the men by the front door train his aim on you, but that’s what he was there for. Two shots landed in the armor on his shoulder blade, level with your head, just as he landed in front of you. “Hey.” He barely even flinched.

“Hi,” you said it with a smirk at his nonchalance after just being shot twice. “Glad to see you’re bulletproof today.”

“I told you I’d figure it out, didn’t I?” He followed your gaze as you watched the other two vigilantes drop in through the same opening, Nightwing rushing in to fight, and Orphan splitting off to where the manager had been dragged to the vault. Then he watched your eyes flick over his shoulder.

“Six o’clock.” Your arm shot out, brushing against his own at his side as you fired, and hit the gunman in the wrist, likely shattering the bones there. He would not be shooting again anytime soon.

Christ, you were perfect, he thought as he looked at you.

“Hey, Hood!” He heard Dick call to him, and though he knew the others would certainly have things handled, he also knew he needed to participate, stitches or not.

He remained standing in front of you for a moment before he cocked his head to the side. “I have some stuff I have to take care of.”

You snorted a laugh and smiled at him. “So go take care of it,” you said while motioning to where Nightwing was fighting two of the robbers. As soon as he turned away, you tucked your pistol into the back of your pants, knowing you wouldn’t need it anymore, and squatted down to the little girl still cowering behind the table. “Hey. Red Hood, and Nightwing, and Orphan are going to take care of us, okay? We’re gonna be okay.”

“…Okay…” She said back to you with tears in her eyes, clearly terrified.

“We’re going to stay here for right now, we’ll find your mom after it’s safe. The heroes will keep all of us safe until then.”

And they did. The only person who’d been hurt aside from the robbers was the bank’s manager, and he’d only been shot in the foot as “incentive” to open the vault. All eleven of the thugs were arrested, and the police had plenty of eyewitnesses and camera recorded evidence. They’d all be locked up after receiving medical care for their injuries.

It took the officers a while to get statements from everyone given how busy the bank had been, but you volunteered to go last, knowing you’d have company on your walk home if you waited until Red was able to leave too.

Jason watched from the roof next door as you answered questions, and the police took your statement. You seemed okay, and he was glad for it.

“Everything’s taken care of, we’re good to go.” Dick called from behind.

Jason’s response was aimed at his brother, but his gaze still hovered on you as he sat on the edge of the building. “I’m gonna stay a minute.”

Dick turned to Cassandra telling her to start patrols, and he’d be moving in a few. She nodded and cast a sideways glance at Jason before turning back to Dick, worry all over her face. She only left when he nodded again, to let her know he would take care of it. Once Cassandra was gone, the eldest Wayne sibling joined Jason on the lip of the building, feet dangling over the edge as they watched you speak with the officers.

“It was super weird you know.” He began.

Jason hardly acknowledged his brother, “What was?”

“I just watched you flirt. In the field. While we were on a job.” Each of his sentences was small, each making a point of their own. Jason was not one to flirt. He was not one to have that personality under the helmet. And he certainly wasn’t one to be distracted while working. And he knew these things as well as Dick did. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re off your game.”

“I absolutely am not, I kicked ass in there!”

“Yeah, after you got shot twice.”

“Intentionally. To save someone’s life.”

Dick shook his head. “Little Wing, you did it to show off. You could have just as easily gotten her out of the way.”

“Is there a point to this?” He snapped back.

“Look, I’m not trying to make you feel shitty, I’m trying to point out that clearly you care. You care about her, and you care about how she sees you. That’s new,” Dick reasoned. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Jason nodded, taking in the words. “I’m okay. I feel better than I have in a long time actually.”

“Yeah?”

A small chuckle escaped through the modulator in his helmet. “Yeah, she’s pretty incredible.”

“You wanna tell me about her?” Dick elbowed Jason lightly, trying to goad him into it. The younger man was never the type to gush about something he enjoyed if he thought the other person might not really be listening.

Jason shook his head good-naturedly, knowing the game his older brother was playing. But he did want to talk about you, so he caved. “She reads the same kinds of books I do. She’s actually borrowing my copy of ‘Persuasion’ right now.”

“The Jane Austen novel?”

“Yes.”

“Cool,” Dick responded with a nod, relenting the conversation back to Jason.

“We talk every night on her way home from work, or rather she talks, I listen. She pretends she’s on the phone. Anyway.” He waved his hand as a dismissal of his last comment. “She calls me with the bracelet, which looks exactly the same as mine, and they have proximity indicators so once they’re on, they display a map like how you saw earlier. It’s how I let her know I’m there, even when it’s better that I’m not standing next to her, like on her walk home. She feels safer knowing I’m looking out for her.” He blushed, almost embarrassed, though he knew Dick couldn’t see it.

“She’s lucky to have you.” Dick was eager to let him keep talking about this, so he asked another question to prompt him. “What does she do for work?”

“She’s a phlebotomist at Gotham General, always wants to help people. She even made this compound with stem cells? She explained it to me, but I don’t fucking know the science. It’s a healing thing that I think she said works by copying the cells you already have to fix you faster, she’s used it on me a couple times, and-”

“So that’s who’s been patching you up. We were all curious how the hell you were recovering so fast. Did she use it on your arm?”

Jason nodded. “The stitches will come out tomorrow, which is why I didn’t want to tell Bruce. I would’ve been-”

“You would have been benched for longer.” Dick completed his sentence, nodding along. “Yeah.”

“She’s smart, and she’s kind, and she’s gorgeous…” His sentence trailed off as he contemplated. “I’m really happy when I’m with her.”

Dick’s smile was genuine, his heart warming for his brother. “Do you love her?”

Jason sighed and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“And watching her shoot earlier?”

“Really sold me on it.” Both of the vigilantes on the roof laughed for a moment before coming back to the comfortable quiet that had previously surrounded the conversation.

“Does she know who you are?” Dick asked carefully. He didn’t want to scare Jason off the topic.

“No.”

“Have you thought about telling her?”

“All the time! But I have no idea where to start.” He got so quiet Dick could barely hear him. “What if I pull off the mask and she doesn’t want me once she knows who I am. What if she doesn’t want to know at all.”

Dick fell silent for a moment as he considered Jason’s words. His fears made perfect sense, but they would hold him back if he didn’t overcome them. “If you’re worried about her liking Jason, then you should meet her as Jason and see what happens.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean introduce yourself and start a conversation and let her decide how she feels about you when the mask isn’t in the picture. Then once you know, you can decide if you want to tell her or if it’s time to move on.”

Jason nodded his head and was about to respond when his bracelet lit up, and his eyes snapped down to you, walking away from the police that still surrounded the building. He looked back to Dick who had clearly also seen the glow.

“Go get your girl, Hood. I’ll cover your route.”

Jason cocked his head in disbelief. “You’d do that?”

“Just go.” Dick said, standing up and offering a hand to the other man, which wasn’t taken as Jason simply pushed off the side and fell, landing silently in the alley only a few yards behind you. The smirk on Dick’s face only grew as he watched his little brother jog a few strides to catch up to you before throwing an arm over your shoulder. He shook his head. It was clear to him his brother was over the moon.

-

You tucked into Red Hood’s side as he draped his left arm over your shoulders, grateful for the warmth he provided. “How’s your arm?” You asked.

“It’s good, it’s healing really well,” He held it up as though to show you, even though it was covered in his uniform and jacket. “I don’t think I pulled any of the stitches in that fight; I feel like it would hurt, right?”

You laughed and nodded. “Yes, it would. I didn’t want to interrupt your healing, but I knew calling for you was probably the fastest way to get help.”

“You did the right thing. I was coming out tonight anyway.”

“What?” You questioned, turning your head to look at him pointedly.

“Woah,” He recoiled a little in surprise at your tone shift. “I have to do my job, sweetheart, and besides, everything turned out fine.”

You looked down again, shaking your head defeatedly. “I wish you’d take care of yourself.”

Jason’s mood sobered immediately. “Oh. I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

“No, I’m sorry.” You interrupted him, hands coming to your face in embarrassment. “I know that’s not fair to ask. I just meant that there’s like eight of you, so I thought you’d be able to at least take a day, but-”

“Hey, stop.” It was his turn to interrupt you, and he stopped the two of you walking so he could look at you head on. “I get it, and I hear you. I will try to do better.” He could start by actually reporting when he was injured. His heart melted when he saw your small nod, still clearly unsure. He looked around for a moment before reaching down for your hand. He knew it would make you a target if anyone saw, but there was no one around anyway. He used his grip on your palm to lead you as he started walking again and was happy to find that you threaded your fingers between his gloved ones. “Do you have other places to be tonight, or can I walk you home?”

“Home first for a while,” You responded. “Hey, how did you know I was at work today? I didn’t even get called in until after you left last night.”

He saw you there when he took Tim in for a busted nose this morning. “Lucky guess.”

You snorted, clearly not believing him. “I’m not going to ask any follow up questions, because I don’t think I want the answers. Thank you for the flowers, they’re gorgeous.”

“Sure, I’m glad you liked them.” Jason did his best to sound casual despite his heart jumping into his throat. He had been worried the color would be over the top but was happy to hear that you enjoyed them. “You said “home for a while.” Are you headed somewhere else?”

You gave a nod. “Marcy invited me out for drinks.”

“You’re going back out for drinks after being present for an armed robbery?” he questioned in disbelief.

“I think I’ve earned a drink after all that, don’t you?” You looked up at him with one eyebrow cocked in a dare for him to say something.

He could only shake his head as he relented. “You are something else.”

“I live in Gotham. If I got hung up on every time I witnessed a crime, I’d never go outside again. There are much worse things than walking out of a bank robbery unharmed.”

A hum of approval rumbled in his chest. “That I can agree with.”

“Largely thanks to you in fact,” you stated, pressing your elbow lightly into his ribs.

“Who, me?” He questioned, pushing as much innocence into his tone as he could muster. “Nah, you had it handled all on your own. Five of those guys are going to prison in casts because of you.”

A smirk of pride donned on your face for only a moment. “I almost got shot, though. The only reason I’m not in the hospital or dead right now is you. Thank you.”

“Always, sweetheart.” He gave your hand a squeeze for emphasis. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

You were quiet for a moment before you summoned the courage to bring up the man that taught you to handle firearms. “My dad was big about being able to defend myself if I was ever going to live on my own. After that, practice, mostly.”

Jason nodded thoughtfully. “If there was ever a place to need it, it’s here.”

“No kidding.” You could only hope that he’d answer your next question, knowing it might have been too personal. “What about you? I can’t imagine you were born into all of this.”

“Actually,” A tightness formed in Jason’s shoulders as he considered how much he could tell you. He wanted you to know everything. “I grew up mostly on the streets here, so I sort of was born into it.”

“Oh…”

“Aw, don’t get too sad on me now.” He shook your hand where it was still wrapped in his, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m doing just fine these days.”

“You deserve better than that, I hope you know.” You leaned into him a little, putting you off balance for a few steps as you relied on him to keep you upright.

“I have it.” He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb to reassure you as you continued to walk to your apartment.

When you approached your building, you pulled him down the alley and turned to face Red Hood without letting go of his hand, wanting to get every extra second out of this before he needed to leave. “So, I’ll see you later?”

He nodded. “I’ll be around. I still don’t think it’s a good idea to go out tonight. You should rest.”

You laughed at the irony. “You’re the one working with an injury, I’m just fine. Besides, it’s just the dive bar off 5th. We go there all the time; I will be okay.” You brought your hands up to straighten the collar of his jacket.

Jason gave a snort of disapproval, doing everything he could to ignore your hands on his chest. “If anything, I’m more worried about you now.”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I can call you if something happens.” A small stretch of quiet fell over the two of you and you realized for the first time how close you were. Your hands were still on his chest, playing with the edges of his jacket. “Thanks for coming to save me.”

He huffed a laugh. “’Course. I would’ve been pissed if I got there, and the cops had let anything happen to you.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him but didn’t stop messing with the zipper teeth in your grasp. “Stop it, Red, you’re making me blush.”

“And if I wanted to?” He stepped closer, forcing you to tilt your head farther to be able to look him in the eyes of his mask as he stared down at you and slid his left arm around your waist.

You gasped almost inaudibly, and your heart felt like it would beat out of your chest if you didn’t find a way to calm down. When you spoke, it was barely above a whisper, and you maintained eye contact with the mask. “This is the part where I’d kiss you goodnight if I could see your face.”

Fuck it. He’d take the helmet off in front of a crowd of a thousand people right now if you asked him to. But before he got the chance to say so, he felt you heave in a breath and push slightly against his chest. He gave no resistance, letting you create the space you wanted.

“Goodnight, Red.”

He felt himself let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as you gave him a soft smile, almost apologetic, before you stepped out of his grasp. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You turned to begin your walk away, but thought better of it, facing the man again for just a moment as you asked, “Do you want to come by tomorrow so I can take care of your stitches?”

“I’ll let you know when I’m on the way.”

Your smile was wide when you nodded at him before turning away, leaving the alley Jason stood in. He wouldn’t wait until tomorrow. He’d see you tonight.

-

Meeting up with Marcy was always a good time. Even on nights you hadn’t wanted to go out, you found that your friend somehow managed to supply enough social energy for the both of you, and tonight was no different. It was the same dive bar the pair of you always seemed to end up at, where the bartenders knew you, and probably overpoured most of the drinks they put out. The music was always a little too loud, the lights a little too dim, and the crowd was a constant mix of regulars talking amongst each other and bar-crawlers that had been kicked out of everywhere else.

You managed to step out of the way just as another woman’s drink sloshed over the side of her glass and splashed on the floor. “Oh!” She shrieked, eyes covered in a glitter that told you this was not her first stop of the evening. “Sorry!” She gave a short smile and a wave as she walked away.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you took the last couple steps up to fill the now open space in front of the bar. The floor was always sticky anyway.

“Hey! Y/n,” The bartender, Aaron, gave a wide smile as he saw you approach. “It’s been a minute, how are you?”

“I’m good, Aaron. Can I get two of the usual?” You asked, throwing two fingers up as an indicator in case he couldn’t hear.

He nodded in response. “Marcy with you?”

“Do I ever come out if she isn’t?” The two had been flirting with each other for the better part of a year, but never progressed past an occasional date or hookup. Marcy always told you it was because she’d pushed her expectations too high and didn’t want to ruin it. You knew it was because she was terrified of commitment. “You want me to send her over here for the next round?”

Aaron set the drinks down in front of you with a wink. “You’re the best.”

“And that’s why I’m your favorite!” You yelled as the music swelled.

“You’re my favorite because you tip well!” He shot back as he poured a round of shots for someone a few spaces down the bar.

You slid your card across the bar. “I had to buy your love somehow!”

You waited until you saw him pick up your card with a small salute to let you know he’d start a tab as usual for you before you walked away. Marcy had found your regular table along one of the walls, where she had a perfect view of the bar (and the man behind it) from her side of the booth.

“Hey! Took you long enough.” She took her glass from you and downed half of her drink in a gulp. “I’m going to need another in a minute.”

“Woah,” You cocked your head at her. “Everything okay?”

Marcy scoffed. “Work was atrocious last night, but you know that. And now I come out to try to relax and as soon as we get in here, I see some girl in a Coachella outfit is flirting with Aaron.” Her pout was exaggerated by her scowl when the girl who’d almost spilled her drink on you walked by.

“Flirting with the newbies gets him tips, Marce. And if you wanted to lock it down you could. You choose not to.”

“Ugh.” She finished her drink and snatched yours before you’d even gotten a sip from it. “I want you to bitch with me, not be a reasonable adult.”

You chuckled at her antics. “Okay, so she’s the worst for flirting with your man, and Aaron is the worst for… smiling at the people who pay him?”

She rolled her eyes playfully at you. “You know, not all of us can have perfect secret boyfriends. Some of us are destined to be alone for the rest of our lives.”

“Ha!” The noise escaped you before you could stop it, but you swerved the conversation away from your top-secret not-boyfriend. “Aaron would propose to you tomorrow if he thought you’d say yes.”

“Liar.” She grumbled, but the blush on her cheeks told you she likely agreed. “I’m going to go get another round.”

“You mean number three for you and my first one?”

“Shh.” She held a finger to her lips as she shushed you. “Shut up, judgy. Did you put your card down for a tab already?”

You nodded.

“M’kay.” She picked up the glasses to take back to the bar. “I’ll swap out. It’s not fair to have you pay when you need to be sober enough to get me back to your place in a couple hours.” You could only shake your head and smile at her as she walked away.

The night went much as it usually did when the two of you went out, Marcy indulging more than you, though she had thankfully slowed down some. She was drunk but would still be okay to make it to the car, and you’d only had one before realizing you’d need to drive and promptly switched to soda.

“No, because listen. I get he’s your favorite, or whatever, but Red Hood is so aggressive ya know? And I just, I don’t know�� Nightwing does all those flips and stuff and he’s so pretty.”

You shook your head. This was somehow always where conversation with drunk Marcy ended up: speculation on the secret lives of Gotham’s vigilantes. “Marce, how do you know he’s pretty? They all wear masks.”

“No really, you can just tell, I swear and-” She stopped mid-sentence and did a double take toward the bar before looking back to you with wide eyes.

For a moment, worry crossed your mind as you looked at her. “What? What happened?” You asked, hushed in tone.

She tilted her head slightly toward the bar, eyes remaining as wide as they’d go. “There’s a Wayne over there.”

You squinted incredulously at her. “I’m sorry, a what?”

“A Wayne. In our little dive bar.” She looked over to the bar again slowly before her head snapped back to you. “And he’s staring.”

“Marcy, you’re staring. Knock it off.” You waited for her face to return mostly to normal before you chanced a glance in the direction of the bar. “And what do you mean he’s-” Your sentence dropped off when you made eye contact with the man you assumed she must be referring to. He was handsome; tall and wide, with a streak of white in his otherwise dark waves. And Marcy was right, he was staring. You turned slightly to ask her a question, without breaking your gaze on the man. “How do you know he’s a Wayne?”

“Didn’t I tell you they all fit the bill of “tall, dark, and handsome?” Especially the older two,” She let out a long whistle before continuing, “Besides, I saw him in the hospital this morning.”

“What?” That brought your attention back to Marcy.

“Yeah, that one’s Jason Todd, he brought one of the middle kids in this morning for a broken nose I think?” She scrunched her face as she tried to remember information that she shouldn’t be telling you.

“What’s a Wayne doing in a bar like this?” You questioned to yourself, still feeling his gaze on you.

“You’re going to go find out.”

“What? No.” You shot her down immediately.

“Babe one of us has to and it can’t be me, I can’t stand up by myself. You’re up, buttercup.” Marcy gestured toward the man very visibly with her hand as the end of her sentence got loud.

“Marcy,” You hissed through your teeth. “You’re making a scene.”

She leaned in close over the table as you reached for her hand, and her tone sounded deceptively sober when she spoke. “I will make a scene so big I will get casting calls about it if you don’t go over there. You have a boyfriend who doesn’t hang out with you in public, and a Wayne who is blatantly staring at you in the middle of a dive bar. One of those things is going to get you attention right now, and it’s not the secret one.”

“But-”

“It’s not cheating to just have a conversation and flirt,” She misread your hesitance and continued with her scheming. “You deserve to be flirted with and made to feel like you’re special because you are. And babes? A Wayne who can’t take his eyes off you is pretty damn special, so you go, or I start yelling.” She let go of you and leaned back, tipsy smile returning to her features and eyebrows raised in challenge.

“Fine.”

“Yay,” she said it in a whisper and softly clapped to herself as she watched you stand and make your way to the bar.

“Hey, Aaron?”

He slid over quickly, “Yeah?”

You smiled at him apologetically. “Can you send some fries out to Marcy please? She needs something other than liquor in her stomach right now.”

He chuckled and rang it into the register. “Sure thing. Anything else to drink?”

“Maybe water for her, but I’m okay.”

“You got it.” He gave a wink before moving on to the next person that called for his attention.

“Not drinking tonight?” A man asked right behind you, and you flinched at the proximity before whipping around.

You had to back all the way up to the bar to avoid touching the blond that loomed over you, breathing tequila into your air. “Uh, no.” Your brain ran through all of your options if this went any further, the easiest by far, would be to knee him in the groin and get Aaron to kick him out afterward.

“Aw come on, Dollface, you sure I can’t buy you just one?” He brought a hand up like he was going to touch your face. “Sometimes that’s all it takes to-” His hand was ripped away by something moving so fast you barely saw it.

“She said no.”

You turned your head and found none other than Jason Todd standing beside you, hand still clutching the man’s wrist and staring him down with venom in his eyes.

“Hey, man, if she’s your girlfriend or something,” His voice was laced with fear as he stared up at his captor. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Beat it.”

You watched as the man nodded only slightly before he was released, and he immediately fled across the room to a group noisily occupying a table in the corner.

“Are you okay?”

You looked up to find the softest green eyes you’d ever seen looking down at you full of concern. Your mind went blank for a moment as you stared before you were able to find words again. “Um, yeah, I’m okay I think.” You cocked your head a little and turned to face him. “Thanks for doing that, I really didn’t want to cause an issue for Aaron.” You gestured to the man behind the counter, still bouncing from person to person as he worked.

“I’m glad I could take care of it for you then.” He rested one elbow against the countertop and leaned into it, lessening your height difference by a couple of inches in the process. “I’m Jason.”

“I’m Y/n,” you responded. “And you’re my hero, so can I buy you a drink as a thank you?” You didn’t miss the way he barely flinched at the word “hero,” and a spark of familiarity went off in the back of your mind.

“I’m actually driving tonight, so no thank you. But I’d love to keep your attention for a while if you have the time.”

You nodded and smiled, “Sure.”

Jason’s heart leapt into his throat as it always seemed to around you when you looked into his eyes and smiled at him. Everything in him was desperate to touch you, but he knew that like this, you didn’t know him. The last thing he’d want is to scare you, especially after that creep had just tried to put his hands on you. “So, what brings you out tonight?”

“I came out with a friend,” You turned slightly to spot Marcy at your table, and she waved a French fry in greeting. You waved back and she gave a thumbs up, which you knew was visible to the man standing next to you. You heard him chuckle and turned back to face him. “Sorry about her, she’s…” You trailed off trying to think of the right word, “excited.”

“Over me?” He looked almost surprised at the notion, pressing a hand to his chest in feigned shock.

“She wanted me to find out what a Wayne was doing in a dive bar on this side of town.” You said defeated, hoping he wouldn’t be too offended by the task set out for you.

He smirked and the look brought a slight heat to your cheeks. “Oh, so you do know who I am. And here I thought I was pretty incognito, walking around in a hoodie.”

“Only because she told me.” Your hands went up in defense of yourself, but there was a sense of comfort in the conversation that you couldn’t place. It was almost like you knew him. “I had no idea what you even looked like until she said something. I don’t pay attention to the tabloids about your family, or in general.” You added the last bit with a mild look of disgust on your face. You never understood the point of stalking local celebrities just to put their breakfast sandwich of the day all over the front page.

“More of a classics reader, then?” He suggested, hoping he wasn’t pushing too far into familiar territory.

Your eyes snapped back to his, and you couldn’t help the suspicion that crept into your tone when you responded, “Yeah, actually. How did you-” Your question was cut off by someone bumping into you from behind, startling you out of your confusion. You felt another shove come as a big group of people tried to get to the front of a quickly forming line to close tabs, but you were immediately shielded from anything else as Jason switched your places. His back was now turned to the people crowding by the bar, and he’d wrapped his left arm around you to keep you close and protected. You had to look up significantly farther now to look in his eyes as his chest was almost pressed against yours. You’d been here before. A quick inhale rushed through your nose at the realization, and then you noticed the smell. A familiar mahogany cologne, though much stronger now, and leather, with just the slightest hint of gun-smoke.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and there was a lump forming in your throat as you looked at Jason and found him searching your eyes. Almost as though to encourage you, you felt small, absent-minded patterns being traced into your back and you released a breathy exhale. One of your hands found its way to his chest and rested over his heart, just as you’d done for Red Hood before, and you watched the man in front of you now relax into your touch. It was there, on the tip of your tongue, just waiting for you to ask.

“Y/n.”

The trance was shattered as your head snapped to look at Aaron, getting your attention from across the bar.

He looked genuinely apologetic, “Listen, I’m sorry to break up a moment, but Marcy is falling asleep at the table. She needs to go home.”

You nodded. “I got her.” And the man returned to his line. You turned back to Jason, who’d backed up some, and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I,” Your breath heaved like you were going to sob as emotions you had no idea how to sort through began flooding your mind. “I have to go, I think.”

He nodded and released you the rest of the way, taking a full step back. “I get it. Go take care of your friend.” He gave you a reassuring side smile to let you know things were okay, and you were gone.

As you walked away from Jason Todd, your thoughts were sprinting and you weren’t sure you could pin down a single one of them, except that maybe you had just met Red without his mask. It was too many coincidences, right? But neither of you had said anything about it. It was him; it had to be. But if it wasn’t, then you were the biggest idiot of all time, desperate to assign a face to a name.

As Jason watched you walk away, he cursed to himself for not saying anything to you outright. You had to know, right? He was certain he’d seen it in your eyes: the realization. But more than anything he hoped that he hadn’t just ruined it all. Either way, he’d find out tomorrow.

You’d closed Marcy’s tab and collected her as quickly as possible and were now helping her stumble to the passenger seat of her car.

“You’re so nice, helping me stand, I love you.” She booped your nose with the tip of her finger just before she dropped into the seat. “Watching my feet,” she said lazily, anticipating your next words accurately. She dragged her feet away from the door as you closed it and moved to the other side of the car.

When you opened the door and turned, about to sit down behind the wheel, you noticed the bike in the front corner of the lot, up on the sidewalk. It was the same one you’d been on the back of weeks ago, you were sure of it. So that had to be him. When you were finally in the car, doors closed and key in the ignition, you took a deep breath to settle your emotions before putting the car in gear.

“Hey,” Marcy tried for your attention once the vehicle was moving. “You guys looked pretty cozy in there.” Her words were sing-songy as she turned as much as she was able under her seatbelt to face you. “Was that Secret Boyfriend?”

You were pretty fucking sure he was. “No, Marcy, of course not.”

Her bottom lip jutted out. “Bummer. You could use a sugar daddy.”

“Marcy!”

“No! Not “Marcy!”” she shouted back. “I’m drunk I get to say whatever I want and you gotta be nice to me.”

You could only shake your head at her and let the car fall back into silence so you could think. It made sense why he was so protective of his identity. Being a billionaire’s adopted son would certainly already make him a target for anyone hoping to make ransom money, but being a vigilante on top of it? Of course he couldn’t outright tell you anything. He probably swore some oath with the others that none of them could ever reveal themselves. Blatantly telling you who he was would be a huge safety risk. And he’d all but done it tonight because you asked him to. You’d crossed a line earlier. You’d told him you wanted him to take off the mask, the thing that protects his identity, and therefore his safety. And then he’d shown up to you without it.

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach. He was putting himself in danger because of you.

-

Jason wasn’t on patrol tonight, and he knew Dick knew that, so there was no reason to lie when Dick pointedly asked, “What are you getting dressed for?”

“I’m going to get my stitches out,” Jason replied with a shrug, doing his best to conceal the nervous excitement in his chest.

“And the fact that everyone in this house, including you is capable of doing that?” Dick questioned further with his head cocked to the side.

“Irrelevant.”

The older of the two smiled. “What are you going to tell her?”

“Everything,” Jason answered without hesitation. “Or as much as she’ll let me.”

Dick nodded as he listened. “Are you nervous?”

“Extremely.” He huffed a shaky breath at the admission, knowing it was okay to talk to Dick about this, but still having trouble putting the feelings into words. “She seemed to like me okay at the bar, and I think she already knows, but there’s that voice in the back of my head telling me it’s all going to go to shit, and I just don’t see it yet.” He sat down to lace up his boots, and Dick sat beside him.

“I’m sure it’s gonna be fine, Jaybird, you just have to give it a chance.” He leaned over and wrapped an arm around the larger man in a side hug for a moment before leaving Jason alone with his thoughts.

When Jason activated his bracelet, you responded almost immediately, and it made him smile to think that you might even be excited to see him. It took only a couple of minutes to get to your apartment on his bike, and when he landed on the fire escape, he saw the window was left open a couple of inches. He squinted slightly at your disregard for safety and called out your name as he pulled the window open slowly but did not enter.

“It’s open!” He heard you call back from somewhere else in the apartment.

Jason still proceeded slowly so he wouldn’t scare you as he ducked through the window and closed it behind him. He drew the curtains shut for good measure. He didn’t need any prying eyes for this. He took notice of the vase on your counter containing the dahlias he’d sent you, and he smiled to himself at the thought that you’d taken the time to put them in water, so they’d last. He’d bring you flowers like that every week if you wanted them. It was then that you came around the corner, medical box in hand.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a smile spread on your face and Jason felt his heartbeat down to his fingertips.

“Hi,” he responded, almost breathless from nerves. “Where do you want me?”

“Couch is fine.”

He nodded and removed his jacket and gloves, placing them on the coffee table in a neat pile before he sat down in the same place he had last time he was here. There was no more pain in his arm as he moved his wrist and fingers, only a tight discomfort to having the stitches still embedded in a wound that no longer needed them.

“Are you on patrol tonight?” You asked, setting the med kit down on the coffee table before taking a seat next to him on the couch.

You took Jason’s hand when he offered it, and he immediately captured your fingers in his. “No, I’ve got time.” The two of you sat for a moment in silence, Jason tracing patterns into the base of your thumb with his own before you spoke up.

“Red?”

“Hm?” He hummed in response, but stayed lost in thought, focused on the contact.

“I can’t pull your stitches one handed.”

Jason’s head snapped back up and his eyes met yours through the mask. Your smile was sincere and almost apologetic, head tilted to the side slightly as you watched him. “Right,” he breathed the word. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just know these have to be bothering you.” You pulled his sleeve back and found an almost completely healed cut, that would hardly leave a scar. Your chest filled with pride as you turned to get the supplies you’d need. “It looks really good.”

“Yeah, that compound is impressive,” he noted as he watched you pull on a pair of gloves. “I got caught with the stitches, and everyone’s kind of in shock about how well it’s healing.”

“Oh so “everyone” knows about me now?” You asked as you got to work on his arm. “Should I expect the rest of the vigilantes to start showing up now? I’ll need more supplies…”

“I’m not letting them anywhere near you.”

“Is that you being protective or possessive, Red?”

Jason could have sworn his heart stopped at the way you looked up at him through your eyelashes when you asked that question. He cleared his throat, happy that his mask covered the fact that his face was a matching shade of red, “Protective, obviously. It would be a huge risk to draw more attention to you. You could get hurt, and-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” A small laugh bubbled from you at his rambling. “I’m not mad, I was just trying to poke, that’s all.”

He nodded and shut up, afraid to put his foot further into his mouth. Instead, he opted to watch you work as you carefully pulled each thread from his arm, your face in a relaxed concentration, like you’d done this a thousand times. “You’re so good at that.”

You froze for a moment and swallowed hard as you felt heat press up the back of your neck at the praise. There wasn’t another part of his sentence to latch onto and ignore the compliment, so all you could do was accept it. “Thank you. It’s taken a lot of practice.”

The pair of you fell into a comfortable silence as you finished by putting a bit more of the compound over the pinpricks in his skin, and this time he didn’t fight you on it.

“You’re healing faster than I expected you to, so you might not even need to keep it wrapped for more than a day or two, and you should have your full range of motion back.” You spoke while you wrapped his arm in a bandage, doing everything you could not to be distracted by the veins cording over the muscle there.

When you let go of him and stood to clean up, Jason tested to see if you were right. He pushed up his other sleeve and moved his arms the same, watching to make sure they looked the same as he slowly rotated his wrists and bent at the elbows. He found that he did have full range of motion, and the pain was gone; all he felt was a bit of soreness. “Thank you,” He stated once you’d sat back down.

“Of course,” you responded without hesitation, “Whenever you need someone to patch you up, you know I’m-”

“No, I mean-” He huffed a sigh, trying to find the right words, and was thankful you had the patience to wait for him to figure it out. “I’ve never- I’m not- fuck,” He growled in frustration. “Just give me a second.” He forced a breath out and felt your hand press against his chest. He covered it with his own, head hung, and eyes closed beneath the mask as he held onto you like an anchor. Feelings were hard. “I care about you. More than I care about most people, and I know that that’s insane, but it’s just- You give a shit. And then you don’t expect anything in return. And you take care of me. And it’s not just when I’m hurt; I can relax around you. I let my guard down and it scares the shit out of me, but I don’t hate it.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say, so you chose not to. Instead, you pulled your hand from beneath his on his chest and wrapped your arms around him. Your left arm draped around his bicep and your right guided his head over your shoulder, your fingers resting at the nape of his neck as though to play with his hair if you had access to it. When you felt him settle into your hold and return it, you released a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I could ever not care about you.” With tears in your eyes, you breathed the sentiment into the side of his head and hoped he felt it.

The idea crossed into Jason’s mind and took root on its own. He wanted to kiss you now, and he knew a way. “Do you trust me?” It was barely more than a whisper from where his head was buried in your neck.

“Always,” came with a little squeeze around his shoulders.

Jason untangled himself from you, only enough to see your face. “Close your eyes.” He watched as you looked back and forth between the lenses of his mask for just a moment before you complied and swallowed a lump in your throat. He found your wrists before you were able to pull them back, and he slowly brought your hands to the sides of his helmet. He covered each of your fingers with his own as he guided you to where the release buttons were, just behind each of his ears. He pressed your index fingers into them and when the soft click sounded, he used your hands to pull the helmet free. There was no domino mask beneath it tonight. He could see how much faster your breathing had gotten when he took the helmet from you and set it aside.

Jason watched you carefully for any sign of discomfort as he reached for your face. He first ran a thumb over your cheekbone and felt you press into the touch. He then dragged it gently over your bottom lip, and when he heard the soft gasp it drew from you, his restraint vanished. He closed the distance.

When Red Hood’s lips met yours, it felt like it was the first time you’d ever really been kissed. Your arms immediately wrapped back around him, fingers finding their way to his hair this time as you pulled him as close as you could get him. It was as though he’d had the same thought, because suddenly you were lifted by his arms, now around your waist, and placed in his lap. You refused to let the movement distract you and instead used it to get into a more comfortable position straddling his thighs. It only seemed to spur him further, and when you felt his tongue brush against your lip, you allowed him full access. You moaned slightly at the taste of him in your mouth, and you felt one of his hands crush into your hip to push you back slightly.

He continued to kiss you, but he let the pace slow so it wouldn’t escalate any further. He needed to keep control of himself if he was going to have any kind of meaningful conversation with you after this. As the kiss turned more languid and comfortable, Jason dragged his thumb back and forth over your jaw while the rest of his hand rested against the side of your neck. Finally, he thought. He’d been wanting this for months. A small smile crossed his features, and he knew you could feel it by the appreciative hum you released in response. He felt a smile on your face for a moment as well.

“Y/n,” he started between kisses.

“Hm?” Was all the response you gave as you continued to melt into him, convinced you didn’t need air anymore as long as you could keep kissing him.

He pressed one more long but chaste kiss to your lips before pressing his forehead to yours. A new wave of nerves crashed over him as he considered his next words. “You can open your eyes now.”

You wanted to. “Wait,” The only reason he was doing this was because you asked him to. It was a huge risk to his safety, and he was going to show you anyway because of you. “You don’t have to do that for me, it’s not worth the- Red?”

Jason didn’t even hear the end of your sentence as his ears began ringing. He was right before. You didn’t want to know; it was better for you if he stayed under the mask. He pulled you off him and got up, and in an instant his helmet was secured again.

“Wait, Red-” You shot up from where he’d placed you on the couch and opened your eyes to find he was pulling his gloves on as he walked toward the fire escape. Tears sprung into your eyes. This wasn’t what you wanted. “Hold on, I wasn’t- stop!” You reached for his arm and your fingers latched onto the leather of the jacket he had yet to throw back on. He froze under your grasp. “Please, I just don’t want to make things more complicated for you. I don’t want to uproot your whole life like this, it would change everything for you.”

“Oh, we’re way past that, Sweetheart.” There was a venom in his voice, and he watched you flinch at the sour use of the name. Don’t. Something in him still didn’t want to hurt you.

“What?” You questioned and Jason’s heart only broke more as he watched tears stream from your eyes as you clutched the jacket draped over his arm.

He ripped it from your grasp as he spoke. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll see you around.” He turned and ignored your pleas for him not to go as he ripped the window open and disappeared.

What the hell just happened? was your only thought after he was gone. You broke down.

Jason’s ride home was brutal as he stewed in the rejection. He should have known better than to think you’d ever want him. The Red Hood, sure, but the forgotten, useless, Wayne son? Not a fucking chance. When he got home, Jason didn’t even bother putting his suit away. He stormed through the cave, ignoring Alfred as the man attempted to ask what was wrong, and when he got back to the manner, helmet under his arm, he headed straight for his room. Dick caught him in the hallway just outside his bedroom door.

“Woah, hey! How’d it go?” He put his hands out in front of himself toward Jason in attempt to slow him, but the younger man blew past him.

“Fuck you and your stupid fucking advice about giving shit a chance!” Jason turned to scream it in his brother’s face, tears visible in his eyes, before slamming the door shut behind him.

Dick could hear the crash and clattering of what was likely Jason’s helmet colliding with whatever used to be on the top of Jason’s dresser or nightstand. “So not great then,” he said to no one but himself.

Tag list: @4rachn3, @lettucel0ver

[meichenxi]

hello children

I am dubiously alive! I am potentially maybe a little bit returning to tumblr, because I have no fandom/language friends irl and it's actually quite exhausting!

what have I been doing?

interpreted in a martial arts academy in china. it did not end well :( and I spent the next six months processing, doing no chinese and generally feeling despondent

did some teaching in thailand with monks

went to india and saw my friend, got three yoga teaching qualifications, my partner flew over and we went to the himalayas together for a month

wrote 250k on my novel (too. long)

moved back to the uk

now I'm living with my partner very happily and I have started a new job teaching english! in my free time I work on my Book!

I have no idea who is still around of the 2020 quarantine langblr community, but if you are, say hi! I may pop in and out.

(re. sustainability and being online as someone who is fairly addicted to the internet - I am asking my partner to help by setting a daily timer, the password of which I do not know. I hope that will help me get the special interest buzz which I've been sorely craving, as well as enable me to, you know, have a life)

[paimt]

woag. vibeo game?

(very rough still)

(but now theres more colours)

[vargaslovinghours]

Y’all are being subjected to my Sims 2 tests, so there

The other set of Vargases came over for a visit and Scriabin picked up Shmee and started talking to Scriabin through him. Very normal, very usual

I downloaded some circle-glasses recolours and hghghh they look so good! Closer every day to his final details! Getting ever closer!

Edgar too! I made him a custom hair with a lighter undercut - I’m mostly happy with it, probably could’ve shifted it a shade closer to his skintone but the texturing was weird no matter what :P And his stripey shirt! I wish Body Shop didn’t have that hands-on-hips pose lol, it looks so much better in-game, but that’s all the better :)

I got some new clothes for Todd as well! As soon as I saw this ‘fit I was like “Oh that’s 100% Todd there he is.” Scriadad hug ♥ So cute

Foot-dancing together stopp it’s so cute!!

The way he looks at them stoppp <3 <3 They kept doing this right up til they left for home haha, Todd’s giggles are the cutest

Used SimPE to save him to the Body Shop, I now have infinite copies of The Boyyyy ♪

Moved him in with his “parents” as just shadow people basically, they’re not gonna matter in a bit as long as I remember how to get the Social Worker/Adoption process to work properly. Get her Todd!!

Wanna play? :D

Menacing :(

Look, Todd, your new dads are here! Initially I wasn’t sure who I wanted to adopt him, got lots of options; the first passes, the married couple with their own Todd, Johnny?? He definitely doesn’t have the facilities for a child lol But these are the ones that showed up on their own, so the married Vargases are the winners!

Scriabin cares more about him than his actual parents ;; A stranger off the street shows him more care! Not that it’s a high watermark

Look at him being a good dad!

Weh, he just wants friends ;; Poor baby

Best timeline, thank you

While we wait for CPS, let’s get some other interactions in! Nny is mean so he tended to prank the other two with a nose flick - mostly Edgar lol ♪ Now kiss

“Oh please don’t break all my bones~ :3” I love Todd looking up at them haha <3

Pffft, I think he was talking about the other Scriabin and just how attractive he is. Classic Scriabin. Alternatively, also funny to imagine him bragging himself up about how he’s just so handsome that Edgar can’t help but love him hahaha ♪

Allow me to tickle you with my KNIFE! >:D

Get a load of this guy lol

He ended up passing out at one point - I forgot which motives make CPS show up >.> - and completely 0%’d his comfort, but for some reason stargazing increased it?? It’s the same ground wh

Is two not enough to satisfy your butterfly bloodlust child?? He ended up with three, I had him release them before he was picked up by the Social Worker - success!

He rolled a new Want as soon as Todd was taken away - “Wants to see Ghost of Todd” Woah, dark! :0

And here he is on the married Vargases’ lot!! Success!! I did it right!! Heck yeah! :D Unfortunately they were uh, indisposed at the time. Good job guys pft

Goes right for Shmee, he really is Todd <3

[buckyalpine]

I LOVE what you wrote for the other ideas!!

This is kind of a dialogue prompt

Reader says something like, "do you know how many times I've imagined you fucking me on this desk?"

Maybe she's sitting on Bucky's lap while she works on a mission report or something for the team. Since Bucky hasn't seen reader in a bit, he is being needy and handsy trying to distract her. (Cue cockwarming?)

Eventually, reader slams the laptop shut and puts it away before she says that line. Bucky just like

Sweeps EVERYTHING off desk

(I'm so sorry for the long ask) much love❤️❤️

Not me answering this 2 years later but I'm weaaaak for the lip bite and this idea, immediate yes (and by immediate I mean I know I took forever, I'm so sorry, also I love you)

-

"I missed you so much baby" Bucky purred in your ear, hoisting you up by your hips to wrap your legs around his waist as soon as you stepped off the jet. You'd been gone for over a month in those 4 weeks, Bucky had been nothing but a pouty puppy, waiting for you to come back. None of the missions he went on were enough of a distraction, all he wanted was his perfect angel back in his arms and he finally had you.

"Missed you too, bub" You giggled at his scruffy beard tickling your neck as he nuzzled into your skin, carrying you off for some much needed cuddles. "I already showered and changed but I just have to finish my mission report and then I'm all yours"

You pecked the frown that made its way to his face, your thumb brushing over the crease between his brows.

"But I haven't seen you in so long" Bucky mumbled, reluctantly detouring away from your shared bedroom, taking you to the conference room instead.

"I promise I'll be quick-Bucky what are you-" You squeaked as you felt his cool arm effortlessly wrap around your waist, lifting you up so he could sit in the chair instead, plopping you onto his lap.

"I'll be patient" Bucky gave you an innocent shrug, not willing to wait for you to finish so he could spend time with you. You giggled at his clinginess, opening your laptop and pulling up the file you had to fill out; of course his patience lasts all of 10 seconds before his hands slowly slip under your shirt.

"Bucky, what are you doing"

"Nooothin'" he ignored the pointed look you gave him over your shoulder while he started to needily paw at your hips, slowly making his way up to your waist, caressing your skin. "Just feelin' you"

"I can see that" you shook your head, returning to your report, trying desperately to recall various details while your boyfriends hands continued to wander around. You could barely type out a sentence, squeaking when his cool metal fingers brushed near the top of your breast, tracing along the outline of your bra.

"Bucky"

"Y/n"

"You're distracting me"

"No, You're distracting me" He countered with another shrug, adjusting his hips, the movement causing you to shift right onto his-

"Bucky!"

"What" He gave you an innocent pout as if his thick erection wasn't about to pop out of his jeans.

"Your not so little friend there is about to stab my ass" You snoted, ignoring the way his hard length pressed against you made your stomach flip.

"Help him out then" Bucky smirked with a raise of his brow, "C'mon, it'll help me keep my hands to myself if he gets some attention"

"Bucky-

"Please baby, I promise I'll behave, just let me put it in you, I won't move, no more distractions, scouts honor"

"You're a little shit" You rolled your eyes, biting back a smirk as you got up to pull down your sweats while Bucky unbuttoned his jeans, pulling his cock out. He groaned as he swiped his thick cockhead through your folds, your slick already making a mess between your thighs.

"Looks like I wasn't the only distracted on, huh" He whispered against the shell of your head as he pressed inside, the both of you gasping at the feeling of him stretching you. He was careful to lower you slowly, inching his way until you were perfectly seated on his lap and entirely full of him. "Mpph, fuck you feel good baby, keep me nice and warm, that's it" He nipped on your earlobe while you took a moment to recompose, your tight walls fluttering against his shaft.

"I-have to finish this-" Your voice melted off into a moan, how were you going to get anything done, it had been so long since you'd felt your boyfriends fat cock absolutely rail you, making you cum and squirt till you nearly passed out, his length fucking your brains out until he was ready to fill you, his moans and grunts all just for you while his cock exploded with thick streams of cum that would drip out-

"You won't get anything done if you keep grinding on me princess" Bucky's strained, teasing voice broke you from your train of thought, not even realizing you'd been pushing your hips further back on him, trying to feel more. "You sure you gotta finish this right now?"

"Y-yes" You tried to fill out the next section, your eyes rolling back instead when Bucky adjusted himself, pushing himself till his tip kissed your cervix.

"You sure baby, I can make you feel really good"

"I-

"It's been so long angel, I need you, fuck, need you so bad" The neediness of his voice only set you off further, a gush of your arousal pooling out of you, getting the patch of curls at the base of his cock messy. It certainly wasn't missed by Bucky, his hands holding onto your hips so he could gently thrust his hips up just enough for you to feel the slightest movement. "Please baby, m'so hard, balls are fuckin' full, swear my cock's ready to burst there's so much cum for you-

All it took was you shutting your laptop for Bucky to swipe his arm and clear the table of its contents, bending you over the table while he was still deep inside you.

"Fuck, I needed this!" He growled, grabbing you hips and setting a brutal pace without warning, his head thrown back, the sounds of skin slapping on skin mixing with your moans.

"OH-FUCK-J-AMIE" You squealed feeling Bucky angle his hips to hit a spot that made a mess everywhere, your juices dripping onto his jeans, the material turning darker making him fuck you harder.

"That's it baby, make a mess on me, make a mess on my cock, give me what I've been missing so fuckin' bad"

You were nothing more than a babbling mess letting Bucky take what he needed, your legs nearly buckling from pleasure.

"Wanna see you" He pulled out and handled you with ease as he picked you up and placed you onto the table, throwing your pants off and tossing your legs over his shoulders. He didn't waste any time as he slipped in again, the both of you moaning and he started to move again, your tummy bulging each time he fucked into you. "Missed you so much angel, fuck you have no idea"

"Missed you-t-too" You hiccuped from a mixture of emotion and your building orgasm, a mix of everything making your vision blur with white spots and tears. "Missed you so much, Bucky"

"Cum for me angel, I want it, wanna feel my angel cum on my cock, please-" Bucky's pace stuttered as his cock squirted precum, his balls growing heavy, struggling to hold on, "m'gonna cum, can't hold it baby, give it to me"

"I-I-OH FUCK" You let out a silent scream as Bucky slipped his hand between your bodies, his thumb pressed onto your clit rubbing gentle circles. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, his own ready to shoot from the base of his cock, the tip already dribbling-

"Good girl, good fuckin' girl, so pretty when you cum for me baby, fuck me I won't last, shit-I-FUCKK" The first burst of cum flooded and painted your walls, his cock throbbing so hard it nearly sent you into a second climax, "Hng, it's so much, mmph"

Bucky clung onto you with his face buried into your neck, shuddering as his body shook from the waves of his orgasm. He held onto you, keeping you wrapped up as he sat back on the chair, his lips pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you"

"I love you too but I need to finish" You sleepily mumbled while Bucky shook his head, carrying you off for some much needed proper cuddles.

"You can finish later after we get some dinner in you and two more orgasms and a nice long shower, maybe a massage and THEN you can-"

"You filthy animals" Tony's voice cut through Bucky's list as he stood at the conference door with an amused smirk on his face.

"Oh my god" You kept your face buried in Bucky's neck, the oversized shirt you were wearing covering up what was going on but there was no mistaking what happened with Bucky's jeans around his ankles.

"Couldn't wait 10 minutes, huh"

"Would you?" Bucky didn't even bother arguing back, raising his brow with a smug smile.

"Can't argue with that" Tony nodded with approval, walking off while Bucky cackled without an ounce of shame.

"You little shit" You stayed pressed against his neck, while Bucky carried you off to your shared bedroom, plopping you onto the bed.

"Now about those two orgasms-"

[lijojo]

genshin sugar daddies

premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for every day of the week. a bit overwhelming, right? however, you somehow find ways to make time for each and every one of them, no matter how emotionally and physically demanding they are. it's just that, now they don't seem too keen on sharing, and you don't know what to do. (modern au)

tw: nsfw, dark content - minors dni

mondays are always harder in more ways than one. mondays are diluc's days, and that means that you're spending a good portion of your nights at angel's share.

on mondays, it's happy hour. which means that you're sitting at a booth in the corner looking pretty while diluc is tending to his customers. you're more than happy to sit back and relax while you wait for him to finish with work. when the drinks are on the house, you're willing to wait as long as it'll take.

periodically, when he's not busy, however, he'll walk over to you and engage in conversation. you act as a taste-tester for new drinks so he's always asking you if you like them. you two will talk about your day, any interesting events, and so on until diluc is pulled back into work again.

then you're back to fiddling your fingers and watching him work. over time, you've learned that he preferred that you not do anything while you were supposed to be with him. that instead, you fixated your gaze on him while he moved about. sometimes you'll catch him looking at you to see if your eyes are still on him.

even while he's dealing with a certain tone-deaf bard, there's something about the way he looks at you so intently that reminds you of a predator.

when angel's share closes, you're there to keep him company while he cleans up. when he's done, he'll sweep you away back to his manor.

you'll fall onto the sheets as he grinds against you. his shallow breaths brush against your throat. the look he gives you is nothing short of intense.

"everyone at the tavern was looking at you, you know," he mutters, running his fingers down your chest, sinking into your pants. he pulls them down effortlessly along with your panties. "didn't you feel it, darling? their filthy eyes on you. they want to ruin you. everyone wants to ruin you."

he throws your legs over his shoulders, his fingers crawling up your thighs. you jump when he suddenly inserts two fingers into your cunt, scissoring you. his free arm wraps around your leg to keep you locked against him. his eyes are glued onto you as he presses a kiss against your calf.

"but your eyes were on me all night, weren't they. couldn't take your eyes off me, could you. you're mine, dear. do you hear me? you're mine."

you don't overlook how tight his grip is. tight enough to make you wonder if he'll ever let you go. in the morning, he does, but you're scared for the day he wakes up and decides that it's for the last time.

tuesdays aren't as bad. when you’re sore from the night before, childe is there to take you out to meals, shopping, and sightseeing. he's not always available to spend time with you on tuesdays, because of his equally-demanding job and whatnot, but when he is free, he never wastes a second.

or a dollar.

childe smirks smugly from his sea. his posture is lax, one hand lazily tracing circles on the chair's arm while the other comes up to rest under his chin.

"how about you twirl for me, girlie? you look so beautiful."

you giggle, observing yourself in the mirror. "why thank you."

you bask in the way the soft satin kisses your skin. the way your newly-own earrings sparkle under the dressing room's light. just a couple years ago, you could've only dreamed of being dressed so prettily.

"do your side-bitches ever treat you as well as me?"

"childe!" you chide.

he laughs, getting up from his seat. but you both know better than to believe his little chuckle is genuine.

he approaches you, sliding his hands around your waist. tucking your head under his chin, he stares at you through the mirror's reflection.

you don't say anything, and childe doesn't either. it appears he's more than happy to enjoy just standing there. his gaze is glossed over, far away.

the two of you sway side to side for what seems like forever until he decides to say something.

"do they buy you pretty things like i do?"

of course they do, you think. although you spend one-on-one time with each and every one of them, they are all aware of each other. it's only right that they did. it was the first thing you said when you brought the idea up to them, that it wasn't going to be exclusive.

but when you see the way he looks at you, you can't really tell him the truth. not when his focus is redirected from his thoughts to you.

"the things you buy me are a special kind of pretty," you reply.

it seems like that answer is enough for him, because he doesn't say anything else. instead he hums quietly, letting the vibration ripple in the back of your head. he slides his hands down your hips and before you can say anything else, he whips his head around.

"i'll buy these sets." he motions over to the closest clothes rack to an attendant you hadn't noticed. "and that one. and the dress she's wearing. how many colors does this come in, by the way?"

the attendant doesn't hesitate. "five colors, sir. they come in bla—"

"great." he shuffles through his pocket to pull out a black card. "pack them up, we won't be here any longer," he retorts.

the attendant looks ecstatic, quickly shuffling out of the dressing rooms towards the cash register with newfound glee.

"childe," you whine. "i don't think these will fit in my closet."

his hands crawl lower, his finger hovering over your clit. "then they'll fit in mine. come over any time of the week when you want to wear one of my special pretty things."

your breath hitches as he rubs slow circles on your clit. he pushes the two of you back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.

"what are you doing, she'll be back any second—"

he kisses the corner of your jaw, pressing his lips close to your ear. "no worries. if there's one thing i'm sure about, it's that no one undresses you faster than i do."

wednesday is when usually everything calms down. kazuha will typically invite you to a new park, scenic route, or gallery. together, you'll write haikus, sonnets, and limericks together. some hours you'll just sit in silence, putting pen to paper. and when the sun goes down you'll exchange poetry.

out of the seven men, kazuha probably scares you the most. he was the first person you decided to do this whole ordeal with, after all. and since he's known you the longest, he also knows about your circumstances more than others. maybe that's why he's so focused on treating you as if you were a fragile cherry blossom petal. his touches feel like ghosts, running down your forearm as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.

in exchange for his protection, his money, and his care, you give him honeyed words. you act as his muse for when he's hit a creative block. you're there to listen to him read out verses when the wind can't bear the strength to carry them. you listen to his grief about his best friend, his loneliness when he was forced to leave his home country. as someone many of the locals looked to for wisdom, he too carried the emotional burdens of being someone's rock. emotional burdens that he let onto you (whether purposefully or not, you're unsure). but you listen anyway, hearing him talk about days of poverty, where sometimes he had to worry about things to eat, or how to get proper healthcare.

you can't lie and say you're always stable enough to hear some of the things he has to say, but you try.

even if you sometimes feel like you can't take it, you just smile and squeeze his hand tighter like you're supposed to. sometimes your mind will go on autopilot, and sometimes you'll stand up on the grounds of needing to go to the bathroom. but at the end of the day, this is what you signed up for. this. making men happy so that you yourself won't have to worry about your endless debt.

you peer over your notebook to see kazuha immersed in his own writing. but instead of his usual peaceful expression, he looks somber. his hands won't leave the paper, his eyes glued onto the words that he's drawn onto the pages.

"what's got you so worked up?" you ask curiously. "is it something new?"

it's like your voice snaps him out of his trance. he blinks, looking up at you. there's a smile you know all too well on his lips. "yeah, i suppose you could call it that."

"could i look at it? i want to see what's got you so focused like that."

his lips press into a straight line. "hmmm, maybe later."

his words catch you off-guard. usually he's the one who's eager to share his work, regardless of the quality. "oh? is it something you want to keep secret?"

he doesn't many any hint of an answer. instead, he puts down his pen and stares at the ground in contemplation. he's picking and choosing what words to say.

"i could protect you," he says, shuffling his papers to the side. you turn to him, curious. his expression slowly hardens. "by myself, i mean. i could take care of you."

"kazu—"

"i have the means to make a living for the both of us. i could sell more of my poetry, i know they'll sell well—"

"where is this coming from?" you move closer to him, brushing his hair aside. "kazu, are you worried about something?"

there's something that's stopping him from saying anything. his fingers intertwine with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

he purses his lips, before turning away and sighing. "no, not really."

after that, he doesn't say anything else. the two of you bask in silence once again. even though you're used to the quiet, there's something deep down in you that feels nervous. like something in the atmosphere changed. there's a sudden resolved glint in his eye as he get backs to writing so diligently on a piece of paper he won't let you read.

after all these days spent talking about himself, somehow you're scared for the day he suddenly decides to stop.

on thursdays you're usually at tighnari's greenhouse, watching him take notes of other plants while you twiddle your thumbs. once in a while, he'll begin rambling about the plants—what kind of species they are, how rare, their medicinal properties, and the like.

you're more of a companion, than anything. someone who can make his days a little less lonelier. and you appreciate it. it's much more tranquil with him. you can enjoy his sharp quips, especially when cyno comes to visit.

his sex-drive is relatively normal, if not a little below average. just like wednesday, you also expect thursday to be a typical rest day.

except when spring comes.

when spring comes, your routine get a little wonky. for one week, at least. because that's when tighnari's heat hits him like a fucking monsoon.

you can already tell when it's coming when he begins to hover closer to you. whenever you take your hand out to do anything, even the slightest gesture, he's already taking it and dragging it towards his sensitive ears.

the moment you've made your plans set to 'take the week off' and help him out, he's already on you, face pressed into your neck as if it's his oasis.

as you can tell, he takes this week very seriously.

"i bet—shit—those other fucks don't get to hold you as long as i do," he lets out as he fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. his hands hold onto your waist like he owns it, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine. "looking so pretty for me. i wonder what they'd say if you got pregnant with my babies. you'd be so much more beautiful plump with my kids. is that what you want huh? to make them angry with my cum stuffed in your gorgeous pussy?"

some days you almost can't believe how uncharacteristically aggressive he is. he dicks you down like he's trying to imprint his shape into the core of your body so that none of the others can fit inside.

and when he cums, he'll take whatever unfortunate portions slip out and smear it all over your chest. especially where your heart is.

then the process starts all over again.

when it's over, he'll spoon you. as if he didn't almost fuck you to death. his touch is tender, like a ghost's hovering over your skin.

"why won't you leave them all for me?"

you shift a little to look at him and kiss him softy, sweetly, on the line of his jaw. "oh, nari, you know i can't."

his ears droop at your words. "you can't, or you won't."

his words make you freeze a bit.

you think back to last week, and the week before, and the one before that. you think about why you started selling your services in the first place, the endless debt you used to be in, and the progression of the relationship between all seven of your...contacts. even if you wanted to, you don't think you could back out if you tried. you've dug a hole for yourself. one deep enough to cause some sort of disruption if you ever decided to stop digging.

so you just hum. "you know how much i love routine."

as some sort of apology, you give him and open-mouthed kiss, one he's almost desperate to return. he moans, hands cupping your face to bring you closer to him.

you're well unaware how much your words have an impact him.

at the end of the week, all al-haitham wants to do is unwind. it's the only logical thing to do. no late-night drinks with the colleagues, no stressful trips to some tourist trap. on fridays, al-haitham comes home to a meal made with love.

when al-haitham's at work during the day, you're usually running your actual errands. it's when you have time to make those one-in-a-blue-moon visits to your actual home, although it's getting harder to call it that.

when it gets to the late-afternoon, you'll usually head to al-haitham's place to start cooking. if you didn't know how to cook before, you do now. every ingredient is handled with care, measured meticulously just as you knew he preferred.

and when he gets home, tired and stressed out, you're there to welcome him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

during dinner, sometimes he'll talk to you about work or the latest research he'd gotten himself immersed with. in return, you tell him about some of your childhood memories. your likes, your dislikes, what used to be your hobbies. you do your best to keep your personal matters out of the conversation, no matter how many times he tries to pry into your private life.

sometimes dinners feel like a full on investigation, the way he keeps greeding for more information about you. he watches you eat with calculating eyes. you pretend to pay no mind to it.

in the beginning, kaveh used to join you for dinners. you always liked the guy, the way he bickered with al-haitham and riled him up. but now you've begun to see less of him, as if he never comes home on fridays at all.

after dinner, there are two different outcomes depending on his mood:

outcome one is that you'll spend the rest of the night curling up on his couch, the both of you immersed in your own books. al-haitham leans on your shoulder as he flips through the pages as if they're nothing. you can't help but feel ticklish whenever his hair brushes against your jaw.

somewhere in the middle, he'll move one hand to start fidgeting with the end of your shirt, sometimes crawling underneath to caress your sides.

outcome two is less quiet. the moment he gets home with that solemn face, you know it's coming. his voice is huskier, his responses shorter. it's usually a result of an impending deadline, colleagues being more peskier than usual.

the moment you two are done with dishes, he gingerly takes your hand and leads you up to the bedroom.

his kisses tastes like green tea and dinner. his hands run up and down your torso, trying to imprint the feel of your skin into every inch of your brain. you whimper when his thumbs press softly into your nipples, rolling them around as they harden.

your hands find purchase on his collar, tugging him impossibly close. he groans at the contact.

you let out a yelp when your back suddenly falls onto the bed. your hands are pressed onto the sheets, al-haitham's fingers encircling your wrists. his knee nudges your legs further apart, rubbing at your clit.

"don't look at the ceiling, dear, look at me," he breathes out, his hands leaving your nipples to gently guide your face towards. "that's it. good girl. just me. just look at me. only me."

he smiles.

"now, let me do god's work on your divine body."

saturdays with ayato can sometimes get hectic. some saturdays you're out getting bubble tea together and enjoying the city, and other saturdays you're hurrying to some publicitiy event hosted by the kamisato clan.

on those type of days, you can expect to wear gowns layered with shiny nylon tulle fabric. it's not as revealing as what you'd try on in dressing rooms with childe. in fact, it's a bit more modest.

today you're wearing a light-blue gown to match with ayato. you turn around to get a good look at the cute bow attached at your waist, your diamond encrusted earrings swaying along with you.

it's as if you've put on another costume. another front to wear for the night.

ayato enters the room just shortly after. in his hands is a diamond necklace to match with your stunning earrings. small smile falls upon his lips when he clasps it on.

"you're beautiful," he mumbles. you giggle when he kisses you square on the lips, licking away the tinted color.

"ayato," you press in-between kisses. you place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "you're going to ruin my lipstick."

he pulls away with a cheeky smile, taking your wrists to wrap around his neck. "you can always put on some more later."

you pout but kiss him regardless. he tightens his hold on you in reaction, moaning into your mouth.

at these kinds of events, you're there as his plus-one. just so that other officials could stop introducing girls to him when he clearly wasn't interested in them. it'd be arguable to say that you might even be there to make the events a little less intolerable.

somewhere along the lines, you'd sleep with him in addition to being his arm candy at parties. sometimes even before: you two rushing to put on your formal attires and fix your hair minutes before the event started.

but beyond that, you started to get to know him better. he'd whisper into your ear about funny stories relating to the guests as you meet them. sometimes you'd run away in the middle of the party to binge out on the food and talk about your other interests. surprisingly, he doesn't talk about the politics behind his duties as the head of the kamisato family. not as much as you expected, at least.

instead he talks about his dreams for a family. how many kids, what their names would be, how he'd raise them. and as he talked, he'd give you this heavy gaze that you're not sure what to do with. as if he was expecting something from you.

you're beginning to believe that ayato has somehow confused contractual girlfriend with actual girlfriend.

when you had met ayaka months ago, ayato introduced you as his girlfriend. you didn't attempt to correct him—that's ayato's business. not your's. but when you're expecting ayato to come clean to his dearest sister, you're sorely mistaken.

instead, while he kisses your lips so hungrily, he subtly slips a diamond ring onto your finger.

sundays are usually kaeya's days off. although the cavalry captain's duties are seemingly never endless, he takes the day off to take a breather.

in other words, he sees you.

at first, it was just candlelit dinners. he'd walk in with a bouquet of roses, complimenting your dress and staring at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. he'd take you to somewhere fancy, pull out the chair for you and sweet-talk you all through the night.

conversations were fun with him. you didn't have to think much at all, not about how to pay the bills, the six men in your life who seemingly began to want yours to only revolve around theirs, or being someone your not.

kaeya was probably the only one who you felt you could be comfortable with. he made you laugh, he'd tell all sorts of interesting stories, and he never made the silence feel awkward.

at least, that's how you used to be.

you see, usually after these candlelit dinners you'd both go back to his place, with him ripping off your clothes the moment the door closed. but as of recently, he's been asking to come over to your place instead more often. almost too often.

and that's not the only thing that's changed.

the sex used to be rough. heated. almost as if he was consumed by all of his pent-up sexual frustration and was only focused on getting off. he'd slurp your cunt like a man starved but he'd still rail you as if that's the only thing he cared about.

but as time passed, he's been getting more and more...sensual. the sex is much more slower. personal, almost.

vulnerable.

after dinner, he slowly slips off your clothing. one article after another, until your left in your underwear. he first kisses you on the mouth, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. slowly, he makes a trail of them down your body, as if no skin deserved to be left untouched.

although you made a rule that no one could leave your marks on you, it doesn't mean he doesn't try. as he kisses your lower lips, sometimes he'll attempt to leave marks close to your clit. if you're not careful, diluc will find it tomorrow.

his thrusts were always deep, but now that he's much more purposeful about it. it's rhythmic, as if he's trying to reach a new spot inside you. somewhere no one's touched.

the pillow-talks are much more longer as well. he holds you tighter now, wrapping his arms around your hips as he tangles his legs with yours.

instead of ranting on about the silly incidents he witnessed on the job earlier in the week, he talks about his feelings. towards you. towards diluc. towards himself. some nights you can handle it, some nights are too much.

but you can't say anything. not when he's holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. not when he helps you pay off your debt. and so you let his raspy voice whisper in your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair. you listen to him mumble sweet-nothings.

you're not sure if you like the adoring look he gives you as you drift off to sleep.

[nochepsicodelica]

Bear boyfriend Toji who dreads getting sick more than the average person. He gets so grumpy during this little stunt in his health because he can't do much besides manage his harsh cough and runny nose, rest in bed and eat, but that's not even what he's most upset about. He's so pissed off that he can't be around you, unless he wants to get you sick too.

Oh, but you make it so hard on him. Walking into the room with a mug of tea with that smile that could nurse anyone back to health. You linger for longer than you should, even after he told you that if you're in there for too long, you'll get sick too. It's an annoying dilemma because on one end, watching you be sick is one of the most heart wrenching things he's ever seen. Like him, you pretend that you're fine, when really you feel so debilitated by the virus that invaded your immune system. You tell him you feel better, but your hearing is muffled and your voice is gravelly and doesn't seem to be recovering quickly. Toji sees right through it and his protective instincts kick in. He insists on doing everything necessary to get you back up and running. On the other end, he wants to see you and kiss you and just hold onto you through this horrible time he's having. He hasn't kissed you in almost three days. It really sucks that he's sick, but it's entirely unfair that you can't be near him. There is truly so much for him to be reasonably grumpy about.

"Hey, you're gonna get wrinkles on your handsome face," you say, smoothing down the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. "Do you really want me out of here that bad?"

He sighs. Your cool hands are heaven on his burning skin. "You know I don't, ma," he croaks out, pulling your hand down from his face and holding it. "I want you here, but you can't stay."

"Baby, you lost your pretty color. You look like a zombie, but also, it's killing me to only be allowed to check on you once every hour. I think it's time I come sleep in here, again."

"No," he protests, while shaking his head. He wishes he had rethought the gesture once he's steady again. He feels like he shook his brain and his head hurts, now.

"Toji, i'm taking care of you. I'm sleeping in our bed, tonight. I'm more worried about you than I am about getting sick."

He wants to laugh at how you sound like a mother scolding her child, but he knows it'll throw him into a nasty coughing fit. He can't argue with you too much in this state. He doesn't want to argue anyway. You care and it feels nice.

"If I get sick, I get sick," you say, settling down next to him, on your side of the bed.

Toji has never been one to pull the 'woe is me' card, but when you're smothering him with so much affection and cooing at him while caressing his uncomfortably warm face, it's hard not to lean into it. You relieve his discomfort with your methods of care. Be it medicinal remedies or your extra love and affection, even your patience. You weren't the one who proposed keeping distance from him. You didn't want to sleep on the couch those last couple nights, but you did it for the sake of letting Toji be comfortable. He's your lover and you don't see a reason to avoid him, like what he has is something more fatal. His contagiousness is disregarded, because it doesn't matter.

You know he would do the same for you so you don't wrinkle your nose when he starts feeling safe enough to nuzzle into you and sluggishly kiss you, while clinging onto you. He's extra clingy, too. Your body is a lot cooler than his, so it feels nice when he rests his cheek on your chest or when his hot, clammy hands go to your arms. You don't turn away or block your face when he coughs. You rub menthol onto his reddened chest and neck, and watch as he grins dumbly when his nose clears up for a little. When he falls asleep, you stay with him, even if he doesn't wake up for the next five hours. You watch over him and only get up to grab things that are necessary, like his medicine, some water, and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead and neck.

He takes on the role of the little spoon when you take care of him. Being pampered by you makes him feel small in all the best ways. He feels protected, like you're his guardian. It's really as if the only remedy he needs is you. The expanse of your love for him is unquantifiable, but when you wrap your smaller arms around him and press featherlight kisses onto his skin, it's like a force field that blankets him.

[hurtspideyparker]

Peter places an envelope on Tony's desk.

Tony looks up confused, "huh? What's that for?"

"It's for you," he points awkwardly at the plain blue envelope, held closed with a Darth Vader sticker.

"It's not my birthday kid." He snaps the protective face shield back down as he picks up his soldering iron, sparks flying as he gets back to work.

"I know that I, uh. It's from, it's for. It's yours. I gotta go, see you later Mr. Stark!" Peter hikes his backpack up tighter as he skips out of the lab.

Tony grunts in acknowledgement without looking up, eyes focused on the searing metal in front of him.

* * *

"Tony? I thought you were gonna have dinner with me after Peter left," Pepper saunters down into the workspace in a flattering pair of jeans and baby blue blouse.

"I was. I am. He left like five minutes ago," Tony waves at her without taking his eyes from the computer he's typing on.

"Happy drove him home two hours ago. Come, have a nice sit down meal with me." Pepper wraps her arms around his shoulders from behind, kissing the top of his head.

"I can have a sit down meal. I'm sitting right now, bring the carbonara down here and it'll be a proper date," Tony replies.

"Yeah, you me and your computer. How romantic. Tony, come upstairs- what's this?"

Tony glances up to see her holding a blue envelope.

"Uh, it's the kids."

Pepper flips it around, "it says To Mr. Stark From Peter on the back."

Tony just shrugs and goes back to typing on his computer.

The delicate glue of the sticker is undone under Pepper's sharp nails as she opens up the envelope and pulls something from inside.

"It's illegal to open someone else's mail y'know," Tony teases.

"Tony this- god you are such an asshole!" Pepper smacks Tony on the back of the head with the envelope.

"Ow! What the- what did I do now! I was just joking about the carbonara thing... mostly."

Tony finally meets Pepper's eyes of scorn. She tosses something in front of him with a huff.

"Tony, he even used a Darth Vader sticker. Do you know how adorably geeky and topical that is? You have got to start paying more attention to the living breathing people in front of you instead of your machines. Dinner is ready, please come upstairs."

Tony watches her leave as the clack of her heels fade away with every step. He's not sure what Darth Vader has to do with missing dinner, but he's quick to get up and start to follow.

He pauses before he makes it out the door, turning to finish the last line of code before he forgets the function. He pushes something off of his keyboard to type and press save.

Tony can't remember the last time he looked up from his work long enough to consume solid food. He's so ready to carb-load with some Italian food, turning away from the computer and blue envelope.

Tony's eyebrows furrow. Hm. Darth Vader sticker.

Tony turns back around and picks up the envelope from beside his keyboard.

This must be what the kid was yapping about earlier. Tony sticks his hand inside and finds a card, pulling it out.

"Father's Day it is," the front says in bold lettering with a picture of Yoda crudely hand-drawn with a sharpie and green highlighter. Tony flips it open, "celebrate you we must" is written in the middle of the page.

Below is a message in smaller writing; "Thank you for everything Mr. Stark, we wouldn't be here without you!" with a blob of sharpie that looks suspiciously like it's scribbled out a small heart, then signed "From Peter, Dum-E and U" each name written in their own unique handwriting.

"Friday, what day is it?"

"It is Sunday June 16th, also celebrated as Father's Day in countries such as the United States, Canada, and the UK."

Hm.

Tony stands there and stares at the card for longer than he'd ever admit before looking up at Dum-E.

"You help with this?" he asks, pointing at the card.

Dum-E chirps happily, twirling his claw around.

"Your hand writing's terrible."

* * *

Peter enters the lab slowly, an unsureness to him that's out of character.

It's Wednesday, his usual day for coming over to Tony's workshop. He hasn't heard anything from Tony since Sunday, not that he usually does. Still, the quietness has unnerved him. He's not sure what he was even expecting from his mentor; silence is probably the nicest response he could hope for after embarrassing himself like that.

"Hi Mr. Stark," he greets once he spots the older man sitting next to a complicated tangle of wires.

"Hey kid, can you go to the computer and run the command I have open for me?"

"Sure thing!" Peter says as he dumps his backpack onto the floor and jogs over.

The two get into an easy rhythm and Peter's practically forgotten why he was nervous in the first place when, "hey grab us some sodas will you," Mr. Stark asks him.

Peter walks up to the fridge in the corner of the room when he notices something new.

In the center of the silver metal lies a single piece of paper, stuck to the refrigerator with a plain magnet seemingly scrapped from some old hardware in the lab.

Tony has his Father's Day card displayed like some dorky parent whose kid got a half-decent report card, showcased on a fridge like a toddler's finger painted masterpiece.

It makes Peter so happy he can't wipe the stupid grin off his face the entire time he's grabbing sodas and delivering one to Tony.

The older hums a thanks without looking away from his project, but as Peter turns away Tony's own face contorts into a pleased smile all of his own.

The two share identical smiles all afternoon, hidden behind soda cans and computer screens.

[theminecraftbee]

Grian sits on the edge of a desert cliff, watching the sunrise. His knuckles are bloody. He's had this dream before, and he's lived this moment before. He's awfully tired of it, honestly. He's not even particularly sad anymore. It's hard to be particularly sad, this long after, this much more between them.

But his knuckles are bloody again. There's someone sitting next to him.

"Joel?" he says, baffled.

"Yeah, hi, really weird bloody dreamscape you've got. Literally and figuratively: bloody hell. Like, Scott, he's got this pretty cottage and all these flowers and the single most terrifying version of Jimmy that I've seen in my life. Which serves him right, since he's a bastard, and I told him that. Or, uh, Pearl. She's normal. She's got dogs and... shit, I don't know--"

"Why are you here?" Grian asks.

"Oh, right, I was tasked with asking you if you regret it," Joel says.

There's a long moment of silence. The wind blows.

"I mean. No?" Grian says.

"Right? That's what I said! Blumin' stupid question, that!" Joel says.

"Wait, you mentioned--are you asking everyone that?" Grian asks.

"Yeah! It was all, oh, you've got a car, you can travel, it'll be all poetic like. You've had a 'character arc'--like I'm some, some fake guy--and grown as a person, everyone else has to, would they do things differently now? And I said, man, that's stupid. That's really stupid. But the glowing purple eyes guys--"

"Wait wait wait wait, the who?" Grian interrupts.

"Sorry, do you not know the glowing purple eyes guys? Martyn was acting like you're all buddies or something. Then I punched him. Because it was funny," Joel says.

"No, I know the--they asked you to do this?" Grian says. He takes a moment to try to imagine it. He has some trouble. Joel and the Watchers don't really belong in the same place at the same time for so many reasons that Grian doesn't know where to begin.

"Apparently, I'm not being serious enough," Joel informs Grian. "I kinda get it, actually. Like, everyone but Cleo has been somewhere like..."

Joel looks out over the cliff. It is tall, and Grian knows he cannot see the ground from the top. He had been able to during the actual games, of course, but these aren't the actual games; these are the memories of what brought him to victory, made manifest.

"So I guess I kinda wondered, since you lot always seem so blumin' sad about it," Joel finishes.

"I'm not really," Grian says.

Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, maybe once, but--nah. Not really."

"Cool. That's the last one then," Joel says. "Hear that, weird glowing eyes guys? You act like I'm all weird or whatever but none of them regret it either. Not a single one of them."

Grian looks over the cliff again himself.

"None of us?" he asks, very quietly indeed.

Joel sighs. "All of you asked that too. I'm getting back in the bloody car."

Grian doesn't watch Joel leave. He rubs the blood off his knuckles and watches the sky instead. When he's tired thinking in circles about how he didn't really expect that he would be telling the truth, just then, he starts trying to imagine the trouble Joel might be giving everyone else instead. It's much more fun to think about than the sand that's getting in his socks. He's never able to get sand out of anything, these days, and it leaves him always just a little bit uncomfortable. Oh well; the price of being in a desert. He wouldn't be anywhere else if he had the choice, though, grit in his socks or not.

[wildflowerhuggy]

Swerved // OP81

| pairing: oscar piastri x reader

| summary: reader decides to prank her boyfriend by swerving all of his kisses throughout the day, curious as to how long it'll take until he has enough

| warnings: should be none

| authors note: hope you enjoy :))

The day started innocently enough, Oscar doing his usual of leaning over to kiss you good morning as his arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer. But instead of feeling his lips meet yours as they usually do, he was met with your cheek.

"Morning breath," you mumbled, removing his arm and slipping out of bed to head to the bathroom before he could give any protest.

He gave you an odd look, not used to you rejecting his morning kisses but let it slide anyways.

Later on, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch, he began feeling particularly touch-starved, so he made his way over to you to try again. Slipping his arms around you from behind, he tries leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, only to be met with you turning your body at the last second so he only got your cheek.

"Just put on some lipgloss," you shrugged, pointing at the shiny pink tube sitting near the edge of the counter.

Oscar squinted at you in confusion, but didn't bother pressing the issue.

By evening though, you could tell your boyfriend's patience was wearing thin. Every time he leaned in for a kiss—whether it was a playful peck or searching for something more—you would straight up dodge him, give him an excuse or strategically time a movement to get out of the way. You bit your tongue to stop your laughs every time you saw the furrow in his brow or his cute little bunny teeth worry his lip in confusion.

Now, you found yourselves cuddled on the couch, your legs draped over his lap and your head leaning on his shoulder as some action movie played in the background. You were scrolling aimlessly on your phone, not bothering to pay attention to the tv, while his fingers lazily traced patterns along the side of your thigh.

It was the perfect moment for him to finally get what he had been searching for the whole day. Oscar tilted his head towards you, hand moving from your thigh to gently cup your cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. Deciding to mess with him a little more, you waited until your lips were just about to graze each other before turning your head, letting his lips brush against your ear.

That was his final straw...

Oscar abruptly pulled back, his expression a mix of disbelief, hurt and irritation. "Right then," he said, tone laced with mock seriousness, "Guess this is it then, eh? Guess I'll just go pack my stuff up and stay with Lando."

He shifted under you, as if to stand up and head to your room, moving to lift you off of his lap.

Giggling uncontrollably at this, you clung to him, wrapping your arms firmly around his neck and refusing to be moved. "No, no, no, don't go! It was just a prank, honey!"

"A prank?" he repeated slowly, as if he had never heard that word before, narrowing his eyes at you.

You nodded frantically, still laughing nervously as you kept your tight hold on him, "I just wanted to see how long it would take you to snap."

Oscar let out a pained groan, though you could see the smile tugging at his lips, "You're so cruel, you know that?"

Before you could even think about giving a cheeky response his hands shot to your sides, fingers digging into your ribs as he began his merciless attack of tickling you.

"No! Osc! Stop, please!" you let out a squeal, wiggling around in his lap unable to control your laughter.

"Never! This is revenge for messing with me all day long!" he responds, his own peals of laughter breaking through his voice as he continued his assault.

You gasped for air, tears of laughter streaming down your cheeks as you gave in, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I'll never refuse your kisses again!"

At this Oscar finally relented, pulling you back into your previous position against his chest as you both tried to catch your breath. He leaned down to press a kiss on your head.

"You're lucky I love you so much," he muttered into your hair.

"And you're lucky you're so cute when you're frustrated, honey." you teased, earning a playful glare before he leaned in for a long-awaited and long-deserved kiss—a proper one this time.

[hawkins-batman]

The Noah Schnapp Situation Going Into S5

With Stranger Things Season 5 coming out this year, we are unfortunately going to see a revival of the debacle around Noah, even though by then it will be an almost 2 year old subject. So, I thought I would get ahead of that with some of my thoughts based on what I've seen these last few weeks and more broadly over the last 6 or more months I've been on this scene.

Spoiler Alert: This is going to be a long one. It'll probably be my new pinned post.

Why Still Talk About It?

Frankly? Because it's still going on. Keep in mind, Liam Payne died in October 2024 (just three months ago), right around Noah's birthday, and THIS is how Twitter responded to that.

And just in case anyone thinks I had to dig back a whole 3 months to find Noah-hate-content on Twitter, here was just random things I grabbed from the last week:

Which brings me to the next point.

Why Do You Even Care?

"Noah doesn't know you." "He's not your pookie."

I know that. The funny thing is, from what little I know about Noah, I'm pretty sure if he DID know me beyond the ONE DM conversation we've had, he'd probably tell me to chill. Dude is very non-confrontational and nice. So, why do it?

Because I think the online movement in favor of Palestinian self-determination has been hijacked by teenagers and performative leftists who care more about looking good for their peers than practicing what they preach.

Because (as you can see above and in screenshots like the one below), people who claim to hold my liberal/progressive/left-leaning values have used this as an opportunity to be openly homophobic and antisemitic towards a then-19-year old who had JUST come out of the closet.

Proponents of the hate campaign against Noah have said that they are just "holding him accountable" or "criticizing him" in the hopes he "learns something."

Look up. Point to me which image is accountability. Point to me the valid criticisms.

There are none. There is just flagrant homophobia. And then there are posts like these two, coming from the same crowd:

This behavior is wrong on its face.

It is violent. It is bullying (which doesn't seem like strong enough of a word) and it's bigoted.

Wanna see more? Look up @noah_schnapp on Twitter/X. See what they've done to his account.

Inevitably, some of the people participating in this will see this blog post. If you've made it this far, this is for you:

This behavior discredits your activism. It makes you look performative and fake to say in one breath that you are a "Leftist" who cares about Palestinian lives as well as the lives of minority groups worldwide, and then to turn around and talk like this about a Jewish person and a gay KID. Because he WAS a kid when this started. Furthermore, it makes it clear to those of us who actually hold the beliefs we claim, that you are vapid enough to use Palestinian suffering for your own personal vendettas. That the APPEARANCE of goodness is more important than goodness itself. And that you will shuck solidarity with minority groups the MOMENT one of them steps out of the lines you have drawn around them.

Not to mention...

It's Based Mostly On Lies

As a reminder, this is what Noah Schnapp actually said shortly after October 7, 2023:

Read that again.

"...we will hope and pray for safety, justice, liberation, and self-determination in Palestine." That was part of the very first thing he ever said about the issue.

And then this happened:

This was the image he was crucified for.

Stickers that weren't even his. That he wasn't holding up or making. He was in a cafe, someone else came up to him with them, and he was videoed with that person.

That's it. That's all. All those tweets you saw above? The fake stories made up about him like this one?

All of that was supposedly "accountability."

The harassment of his family. Murder threats. Rape threats. All for stickers that weren't even his.

There's even a paid Stranger Things author on this very site, styling herself as a Byler shipper, who has contributed to the lies that have further added to the hate campaign I've described.

As an aside, Noah wasn't the only one in that video. The influencers that actually posted the video and HAD THE STICKERS?

Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

And just to be clear - I don't think they should get hate. I think non-Jewish online Leftists appropriated a term from Jewish culture, redefined it, and are weaponizing it to beat down Jews all over the internet—which is par for the course for this charcuterie board of performative activism.

Yet the point stands. Noah was specifically targeted; and the homophobia that IMMEDIATELY came from the Left suggests to me that it was his sexuality and cultural/religious identity that motivated the attacks.

Again, I'll say, this is wrong.

Noah Has Since Responded

It hasn't stopped the bullying.

Didn't stop him from withdrawing from spaces he loved. From needing therapy from what we've learned from his now-deleted second TikTok.

And that really says something, does it? He cleared up his point. He tried to clarify and even apologize.

They didn't accept it. Not because it wasn't good enough. Not because it was "too late." Because this was the point. They wanted to keep doing it. They get sick joy from it.

Which is why...

I'm Not Shutting Up About This

This post doesn't even nearly cover the whole situation. The Byler fans who try to replace Noah's image in fan art and fan fiction. Who fan cast themselves as Will instead of Noah. The stalking and doxxing on Twitter. People reporting to GIANT hate accounts his location and when he's alone, PRAYING for him to be hurt.

I wish I could cover it all.

We have to stand up to this. On tumblr, on TikTok, on Threads, Twitter/X—everywhere we see it.

For our gay and Jewish siblings who see how Noah was attacked and feel less safe in their online spaces as a result, we have to speak up and say something.

And yeah. We have to say something for Noah, too.

The person who replied to me like this:

Him?

He did it because he needed to see a show of love from his fans. Doesn't mean he's perfect. Doesn't mean he won't mess up or do something in the future.

And no. Standing up for Noah, or for Jewish people, or other gay folks does not make you a genocide supporter or apologist. It doesn't mean you want any innocent people harmed. Don't give them the power to talk down to you like that. It's bullshit. You know it, and I know it.

All standing up to this vile shit is is an acknowledgement that Noah is a living, breathing person, as some of these people tend to forget.

And he didn't deserve this.

Any of it.

Related Blogs:

The Evolution of a Lie

No, the Stranger Things Cast Does Not Hate Noah Schnapp

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

canon gojo will love you in ways unfathomable and never tell you. will pretend he barely knows who you are. in death and in life, he'll will himself to not think of you and love you obsessively anyway all while you barely know. this is all to keep you safe. he doesn't expect your loyalty or your patience or your time. he'll drop into your life and wash your back and leave without word. he'll come find you. he loves you more than he has loved anyone in a very long time. but this is a secret even to himself, because the second he believes in it - he knows it'll kill you. he isn't sure in what way, only that it will and that is has since the last time he has allowed himself to love anyone at all

sometimes, you will look at gojo with affection warm enough that he wants for something he has never been allowed to have and barely knows. sometimes, you are loyal to him and he wishes you werent. at least when you hate him, the burden of love rests only on his shoulders. and he can love you from afar with false friovlity and absence without it burdening your life.

gojo hopes always, secretly, that you'll get sick of him. that you'll exhaust yourself and leave first. that he wont be forced to turn away before he wants things to end. he hates having to do it, even after only having done it once.

gojo loves you. he will never tell you. he hopes you never know. he hopes you never find out that this is his version of mercy