#i need you to understand just how much this matters to me

[sirfrogsworth]

I sometimes wonder what it must be like to never experience medical complications or painful recovery periods or minimal side effects. Only a person who has never had surgery could ask this question.

I have never had a surgery go smoothly. Every single time some weird fucked up thing happened that I had to endure all while trying to heal.

Some people think you get your knee replaced and you're good to go.

But your body hates foreign objects and not everyone adapts. And a lot of replacements have a lifespan. Which means you have to get it re-replaced. But if you get too old, then you are stuck with a fake knee or hip that is causing you more pain than the real one ever was.

My dad got a new hip and my mom got a new knee. And watching them recover was difficult. And they were never good as new. Just slightly better off until they got really old and they were worse off.

No other medicine is held to the standard they are trying to impose on trans healthcare. If bottom surgery doesn't cure your depression, that is seen as abject failure. If puberty blockers don't make you jump for joy 24/7, they are ineffective. Even though their purpose has nothing to do with mental health. They are pretty much a stalling tactic. Why does a stalling tactic have therapeutic expectations?

The only standard should be "are you satisfied with the outcome?"

Because that is how we judge every other surgery and every other medication. It doesn't matter if it is elective, cosmetic, or corrective.

And then there is the risk. Everything has a risk. That's just part of it. Knee surgery has risk. Lip fillers have risk. Tylenol has risk. We as a society have allowed people to take medical risks, big and small. If we didn't allow risk, we'd have no medicine at all.

It's important that everyone understand the risks. And before taking a risk, people really need to imagine their life if that risk manifests.

"My knee hurts. I want it not to hurt. I am willing to go through the recovery. And I understand things may stay the same or even get worse."

If the knee surgery doesn't work, people don't say "we should ban knee surgery." We just say, "that's rough, buddy" and don't give it much thought beyond that.

If a boob pops, same deal.

And don't get me started on the Mar-a-Lago plastic surgery club. Are they all going to the same doctor? But as long as they are happy with their uncanny valley faces, bodily autonomy accomplished.

[stilljuststardust]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Persistence, not perfection

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Conviction is not the absence of fear, doubt, and negative emotions. Conviction is standing in the face of that and saying you have it anyway, because nothing other than what you decide matters.

Stop thinking that you've failed to make an assumption just because your heart is still racing and your stomach still hurts. Your emotions and your body are not god. You can be terrified and shaking in your boots but still standing ten toes down in your assumption

Where I think many people go wrong is the pursuit of perfection. It's the trap of "good enough". When will I be enough? When is what I'm doing good enough to manifest my fucking desire already?? You decide what's good enough, and no one else.

This idea that you have to feel good to manifest, or that you don't have control over when it manifests, the constant song and dance of "doing it right". Law of attraction still has its dirty little fingers digging around inside our hearts

Right and wrong are up to you. There isn't a secret code that unlocks the door, there's no invisible gatekeeper to please, there is only yourself. Have you decided you have it? Have you decided your efforts are good enough or are you constantly punishing yourself.

It is so easy to get lost in what you "should do". Should I be convincing myself or just deciding? Is it ok if I use this affirmation? There is no should.

Do not let shame and guilt destroy you. You should never blame yourself for what is in your reality. You should however recognize you alone have the power to change it.

Stop trying to "fix" everything and ending up spiralling over minor feelings that you can't get to go away. You don't need it to go away. You can literally just decide to keep with the assumption even if you had a stray thought or a flood of emotion. You don't have to hammer down everything that isn't exactly perfectly perfect, because it's yours. Accept that it's yours anyway. Yes I feel like shit, it's still mine. Yes I have doubts, still fucking mine. No I don't understand the "how", it's still mine.

Stop being the observer, hovering over your own shoulder to chastise yourself over every little mistake. You do not need to be perfect to be persistent.

You don't need to "figure out" anything, you don't need to convince yourself or overthink. Manifestation is when you leave all that shit alone and say "no, fuck all of that, I have it".

Trying to micromanage yourself is the easiest loa mistake to make. You end up spiralling for thirty minutes because you had one bump in the road you're trying to force down instead of just saying "sucks, still have it though".

Who cares about belief, who cares about feeling, you are god. Its up to you. I don't care if you feel convinced when you say that you have it, and neither does your subconscious mind.

I'm an insomniac who doesn't drink enough water. If I just go by how I feel I'm gonna think the world is ending. So much of our emotions get falsely attributed to "oh it must not be working" when really, you haven't your body is literally just begging you to go outside or take care of yourself and you're over here like "the universe is against me". No you haven't failed, you're just grumpy and need a nap.

The constant return to "how do I fix it" "how do I manifest" IS living from the old assumption. Deciding that you have already manifested it, regardless of how you feel, is what you need to be doing instead.

Trusting yourself is not this overwhelming influx of dopamine nor is it the complete lack of fear. Having trust is doing the damn method anyway.Having trust is saying, I may not believe it, I may not see it, but it's fucking working. Having trust is getting out of your own way and letting yourself do it without constant double checking.

Conclusion, literally say "nuh-uh!"

"Ok but I don't believe it-" nuh-uh still have it.

"But the 3D-" nuh uh, mine

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[babyleostuff]

⸻ how the hip hop unit helps you study

scoups

your typical dad trying to explain math homework 

cheol really tries his best. he does. it’s just the way in which he tries makes you want to rip out your hair, cry, and run away. because he’s so stubborn he’ll act like he knows the topic so much better than you, even if he has zero clue what it's truly about. will tell you that he read an article online and that he is 100% correct. so even if you ask him to simply read the terms from your flashcard, nothing more, just read, so you could revise the topic, he’d act all: no, but actually! and if you try to tell him otherwise, he’ll just start arguing with you. and we all know how petty this man can get if someone disagrees with him. 

3/10 experience 

too bossy 

too stubborn 

gets frustrated in 0.0001 second and starts pouting 

will tell you that you don’t love him anymore

wonwoo

drops anything to help you out, no matter what you need help with

you need to buy something for your project? he’s already at the store. you need more paper for your flashcards? he’s out chopping wood all nara smith. you need to read a hundred pages of boring articles? let me do it for you! come on, jeon wonwoo, the acts of service man himself would do anything to help you out. even if it means sitting by your side for hours in complete silence, because you need emotional support. even if it means watching numerous youtube videos on topics he cannot even comprehend. even if he has to rewrite the damn book by himself, he will do it. such an encouraging, supportive, sweet, and genuinely helpful study buddy!

100/10

chops wood 

attempts to make study snacks 

will become an expert in the topic you don’t understand, so he can explain it to you 

makes the prettiest flashcards

mingyu

the one that takes it a bit too seriously 

you need help studying? do not worry, here comes kim mingyu with his fake glasses. he’s clearly excited that you need his help, but for some reason he treats it as this super important mission impossible that requires all of his brain cells, as if he’s the one to study. and don’t even try to mention that it’s not that serious, because he’ll get offended. you’d think he’d be all “one kiss for one correct answer”, but no. for some reason turn into this strict, annoying teacher, acting all smart with you. mingyu just takes his job a bit too seriously. similarly to cheol, at some point he will start to act all smarty pants with you, and yeah, you’re smart mingyu, but? let’s calm down a bit, yeah? 

6/10 experience 

you actually manage to revise your material with him 

looks good in glasses 

acts like mr know it all 

falls asleep/gets hungry fifteen minutes into revising

vernon

gets so into the topic that your studying turns into a lecture 

which to be honest - great way to revise your material. vernon is just so curious about… basically anything that even if your topic is as interesting as watching paint dry, he’ll get so into it and ask if you could elaborate. thus, your study time turns into lecture time! and i know he’s the greatest listener too. could sit there for hours and listen to you talk, because - 1. he gets to listen to you, and 2. learns new random facts, which he can use as a party trick later on. and if there’s something that you yourself do not understand, vernon does anything he can to educate himself on said topic, so he can explain it to you. 

11/10 experience 

genuinely interested 

at the end of the night will know more than you 

you get to experience the POV: you’re an academic professor  

great way to spend quality time

[softlypossessive]

Hello! I hope you’ve been having a great day. I was wondering if I could request a strawhat x mute!reader. The reader has selective mutism, meaning she gets anxiety speaking to people in certain situations. When she does speak, which would be rare, it’s only when it’s just her and her crew. If she was in public she and had to say something she would whisper directly in their ear, otherwise she wouldn’t speak. The relationship could be either platonic or romantic, either is fine. I was wondering how would the strawhats react to their mute member being in a situation where pirates of a different crew surrounds and antagonizes her, trying to get her to speak to them. Also, may I ask that you not make the reader meek and defenseless? While she does feel anxiety when she’s in a situation where she has to speak to people, she’s not an overall anxious and docile person.

♡･ﾟ𓏸 All Strawhats x Selectively Mute!Reader Headcanons 𓏸･ﾟ♡

♡ Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Robin, Franky, Jinbe, Brook, Chopper, gn!reader ♡ Warnings: Fluff, Soft protectiveness, mutual understanding, SFW, platonic, romantic if you squint?? mentions of selective mutism, quiet affirmations, crew-wide affection, no use of Y/N, ♡ Notes: Thank you so much for the request! I really hope I did it justice <3 I went with a full crew interpretation (since it’s SFW) and leaned into that strong, warm platonic love—though if you squint, a few bits might read a lil more intimate. But overall? This crew would go to war for you, no questions asked. Not spicy, just full of love and loyalty.

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

🍖 Luffy

At first, Luffy doesn’t get it.

“Why don’t you talk to them? Are they stupid?” (Yes, Luffy. Yes, they are.)

But the moment it clicks—that your silence isn’t a weakness but a boundary—he respects it with his whole chest

He never pressures you to speak. Like, ever. He doesn’t even notice you don’t talk half the time because he just vibes with your presence

You're still his crewmate, still part of the adventure, still cool as hell in his book

When you do whisper to him? Man lights up like a SUNRISE

“WAAAH YOU TALKED TO ME!!!”

Cue excitement. He treasures those moments

He absolutely throws hands if anyone tries to mock or push you into speaking.

No hesitation.

One second of antagonizing you = rubber punch to the jaw

Thinks your ability to stand silent and still in chaos is scary cool

"You don't need words to be strong. I can feel it. You're STRONG."

⚔️ Zoro

Completely unbothered by your silence—he’s not exactly chatty either

You two could sit in silence for three hours and that’s a perfect conversation to him

He clocks your selective mutism immediately and never asks questions you don’t want to answer

If you whisper something in his ear in public, he listens like it’s sacred scripture

He’s incredibly protective—not because he thinks you’re weak, but because he hates people who mistake quiet for easy prey

The moment someone tries to force words out of you? Zoro’s sword is already out

“You really think pressure makes people talk? Try bleeding first. Then we’ll compare notes.”

He absolutely respects that your silence is a form of control, not submission

Will stand at your shoulder like a silent wall of steel until you nod it’s okay to move

🍳 Sanji

Sanji is a soft king when it comes to your comfort

Doesn’t just “accept” your mutism—he adapts to it

Develops a whole love language around your silences: gestures, hand squeezes, looks, shared glances over food

If you whisper in his ear in public? He goes red every time no matter what you said

Treats your rare spoken words like poetry.

"Your voice... I could die happy now."

But if anyone dares try to “make you speak,” he’s fury on legs

“If you wanted a conversation, you should’ve kept your tongue attached.”

Elegant fury. Fires the first kick. Lights a cigarette after the last one drops

Thinks your silence adds to your mystique and honestly simps hard for it

“They don’t need to talk, idiot. They’re already unforgettable.”

🛠️ Usopp

Understands your selective mutism right away—relates through his own anxiety

Never makes it a big deal, just accepts it as part of who you are

Acts as your unofficial hype man 24/7

Narrates your silence like it’s legendary

“My friend here? Silent assassin. Writes poetry. Could kill you in three moves. Show some respect.”

Gets so excited whenever you whisper to him

“THEY SAID SOMETHING TO ME. PERSONALLY. ME.”

Makes little gadgets to help you communicate—flip signs, buttons, visual cues

If anyone mocks or pressures you to speak, he steps up immediately

Starts going off in a fiery, ridiculous, clearly-exaggerated monologue about how you’re a silent warrior who once stared down a sea king until it cried.

“You’re really gonna push someone who could take you out with one look?”

Absolutely nervous but still defends you—protective even when shaking

Later brags about it like he was chill the whole time

Thinks your silence is mysterious, heroic, and honestly? Very cool

🍊 Nami

Notices your mutism instantly and adjusts without missing a beat

Communicates with subtle cues: touch, eye contact, quiet words

Always leans in when you whisper, gives you her full attention

Becomes your translator in crowds, sharp and effective

“They said back off. Before I make you.”

If someone tries to force you to talk, she doesn’t hold back

Fights with sass, smarts, and no mercy—protects you because you’re strong, not in spite of it

Never treats you like a problem to fix

Calls your mutism a boundary, not a flaw

Gets genuinely touched when you whisper something soft to her

“Only the right people get to hear that voice.”

Thinks you’re powerful in your silence—deadly, beautiful, and fierce

📚 Robin

Understands without needing it explained—she’s lived through silence herself

Views your selective mutism as deliberate, powerful, elegant

You’re not “mute” to her—you’re discerning. And that makes you brilliant in her book.

She’s very observant.

Not only does she notice the exact kinds of situations that make you shut down, she preemptively handles them.

Like casually standing next to you in crowds. Leaning in so you can whisper without stress. Ordering your drink without being asked.

You two become silent duo queens, communicating entire conversations with eye contact and head tilts

But when you’re surrounded, alone, and pirates are sneering in your face?

One of them laughs, “They mute or just stupid?”

Six arms bloom from the stone walls and grab all of them by the throat.

Robin walks up, smiling politely.

“It seems you’re the stupid ones.”

She looks to you and tilts her head.

“Would you like me to break their arms or their egos?”

You murmur a single word

“Egos.”

She smiles wider.

Later, you slip her a note with a tiny sketch of her stepping on the pirate’s face. She folds it into her book like a pressed flower.

🔧 Franky

Thought you were just “cool and mysterious” at first—didn’t realize your silence was tied to selective mutism

When he does figure it out? Immediate SUPER™ respect

Doesn’t try to make you talk—just makes sure you always feel welcome in the workshop

Builds you custom tools or a gadget to help if you want to communicate in crowded places—only if you’re into it

“You don’t gotta say a thing, dude. You just being here is already awesome!”

Treats your rare spoken words like a backstage VIP pass

Will absolutely body block anyone who corners you or tries to force you to speak

If someone mocks you? Cue cyborg intimidation mode

“Real strength ain’t about talkin’. It’s about doin’. And you? You’ve got that in spades.”

Loves hearing you whisper in his ear in public.

Instantly salutes.

“COMMAND RECEIVED!!”

Thinks your silence adds mystery and badassery—he’s kind of obsessed tbh

“You’re like… like a silent laser beam! Precise! Lethal! SUPER!!”

🌊 Jinbe

Understands immediately—doesn’t need an explanation

Has deep emotional intelligence and respects boundaries like a king

Offers quiet companionship when you need it, never pressuring conversation

Has an entire repertoire of gentle nods and thoughtful glances for when words aren’t needed

If you whisper to him, he leans in with the patience of a mountain

“You do not need to speak to be heard.”

Would stand calmly beside you if you're being antagonized—silent, unmoving, radiating “Try me.” energy

If someone pushes you to talk? He won’t raise his voice—but he will command the entire room’s attention

“If your ears are so desperate for sound, perhaps you should listen to your own foolishness.”

He believes your silence holds weight—calls it “the stillness before a wave”

Deeply respects how you fight without words—calls it “an elegant form of strength”

Makes sure the crew understands your boundaries without ever making a fuss of it

Absolute guardian energy, with the soul of a poet

🎻 Brook

Surprisingly intuitive about your silence despite being loud himself

Doesn’t ask invasive questions—just rolls with it, happily filling silences with songs or stories

Makes gentle jokes to ease tension but always watches your cues

“Ah, you didn’t laugh out loud, but I saw that smile! Yohohoho!”

If you whisper something in public? Dramatic swoon every time

“A private word?! For me?! Oh my heart—wait, I don’t have one!! Yohoho!”

He absolutely writes songs about you—like full orchestral ballads of silent bravery

Believes your silence is poetic and meaningful

“Some voices are loudest without sound.”

If someone antagonizes you? Brook’s polite tone goes cold

“Your disrespect will not go unnoticed, even by one without eyes.”

cue chill-inducing violin chord

Protects you through unexpected intimidation—he’s goofy until he isn’t

Thinks your energy is ghostly and powerful in a way he deeply respects

Refers to you as “the whisper between storms” in one of his songs

🧸 Chopper

Soooo gentle and sweet with you from day one

Was nervous at first like

“Did I do something wrong? Why don’t they talk to me?”

But once he understands, he’s all in: brings you tea, sits nearby while you write, never pressures you

“You don’t have to talk. I still know you like me, right?”

Will make you little cue cards or cute picture communication tools if you want help in public

If you whisper to him, he melts.

“AHHH THEY TALKED TO ME! I MEAN—I’M COOL. I’M NORMAL.”

If someone bullies you or gets pushy?

Normally sweet Chopper goes feral mode

“BACK OFF! YOU DON’T GET TO DECIDE HOW THEY TALK!”

Will patch you up after fights and praise how you held your own, even without words

“You’re one of the strongest people I know… You don’t even need a voice to be amazing!”

Lowkey keeps a medical log of when you speak or interact more—only to make sure you’re doing okay mentally

Feels extra close to you because you both were misunderstood at first

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You were only gone five minutes.

Five minutes to run down the street and grab new ink, maybe peek into the bookstore. Five minutes away from the crew.

Apparently, that was enough.

They came out of nowhere—half a dozen rough-looking pirates, loud and posturing. One of them stepped in front of you as you turned to leave.

"Oi, sweetheart. Why so quiet?"

You didn’t respond.

"Too good to talk to us?" "Or maybe you think you're better?" "C’mon, just say hi." "We don’t bite… much.”

They leaned in. Circling. Testing.

You stared them down, face flat, spine straight, hand hovering near your weapon—but still, you said nothing. You didn’t owe them a damn word.

And that’s when the sound of boots hit the street behind you.

Not loud. Not rushed. But deliberate.

Zoro was the first. Leaning against the alley wall like he’d been there the whole time. He didn’t draw a sword. He didn’t need to.

Sanji stepped up next, cracking his knuckles with a smile that didn't touch his eyes. Smoke curled from the edge of his lips.

Nami lingered behind them, arms crossed, watching. Sharp gaze narrowed. Robin’s shadow moved just beside hers—subtle, but present. You could feel it.

And then there was Luffy.

No drama. No yelling. He just appeared beside you, hands in his pockets, staring straight at the loudest one.

They all paused, instincts kicking in. A shift in the air.

“…This your crew?” one of them asked, voice suddenly less cocky.

You leaned in close to Luffy’s ear, barely a breath.

"I didn’t need help."

He grinned. "I know."

Silence again. Until he tilted his head, smile gone now.

"I just didn’t like the way they talked to you."

That was it.

That was all it took.

The men backed off. Fast. No fight. Just the weight of the crew’s presence and Luffy’s quiet fury pressing down on them like a stormcloud. They knew better.

As they vanished down the street, Luffy turned to you, still smiling—loose and easy like nothing had happened.

You sighed and bumped your shoulder against his in thanks. He bumped back.

Zoro huffed a quiet breath, like he’d been hoping for action. Sanji smoothed his jacket, still glaring at the retreating pirates. Chopper poked your arm, worried, but you just gave him a nod.

The crew didn’t make a big deal of it.

No lectures. No questions.

Just a warm space carved out around you.

Safe. Quiet. Yours.

Because you didn’t need words for them to hear you.

And they didn’t need words to say “We’ve got your back.”

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

[jks1uv]

𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑖𝑛 ; jason todd

summary: a very fucking big small side effect of being baptized in the lazarus pit is retrograde amnesia. however, love is the dimension that transcends everything; even the loss of memories.

pairing: fiancée!reader x fiancé!jason todd.

trope: partial memory loss + both parties learning to falling in love with each other again + boy who thinks he’s unworthy of love x girl who loves him like it’s breathing + she fell first but he fell harder.

genre: fluff + angst + slow-burn & rekindling romance.

warnings‼️: crude language + mentions of his murder + mentions of violence + reader’s 24, jason’s 25 + jason’s a drug / crime lord + reader & jason are yearners.

word count: 9,624.

random disclaimerrr: it can take somewhere between days to years to recover from retrograde amnesia & gain your memories back. for fanfiction purposes, i’ve dramatized the recovery. italics = inner thoughts, bold italics = flashbacks. i love this song, i breathe this song. nobody fw this song like i do. canon states he was 15 when he died but i changed things up. i haven't read a single comic & all the lore ik is from google, tiktok & this app lol. pls lmk on how i can improve! happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

Here you are; face to face with the man whose warmth you were sure could no longer feel in the dark of the cruel, lonely night. You were sure the thread of his love was no longer in the stitches of your heart.

The one man you’ve ever loved that much and hard, is limp and unconscious. It doesn’t need to be said how he’s also very much alive this time around.

He's weighing down on the shoulders of his beloved brother, in the way eldest sons gently cradle their brave-faced youngest brothers in times of need.

Dick looks at you and you see him. For the first time, you truly see who Richard Grayson-Wayne is.

The dutiful, eldest son, yes. But more than that, something he will always be no matter the consequence of life; a brother.

You recognize that bleeding, aching heart of his and understand that it was bleeding and aching with yours too.

He’s still a brother even if he lost his. That title doesn’t just go away, lost in the wind like the smell of freshly cut grass and 2015.

You step aside and Dick wordlessly carries his little brother into your house.

“I... we can't talk here.”

You can't stop staring at the larger body of muscle on your couch. You can't believe he's just lying there, on the couch.

Suddenly, you can't seem to remember the misery that left you incapacitated. You don't taste the grief in the salt of your tears on your tongue.

Those years seem so far away, it's disorienting.

“Y/n?”

You're broken out of your trance and you swiftly move your head towards the older brother.

He sympathizes with you. He takes you by the hand and leads you to your bed. You sit down and he follows suit right next to you.

It's silent for a few moments, he's trying to find the right words to explain what you see.

“We found him, Bruce and I.”

You look at him but he refuses to make eye contact. Instead, he finds feigns interest in the scratches on his knuckles.

“Have you heard of a the new drug and crime-lord in Gotham, recently?”

You nod. You'd about of him; the man in black who hides himself under a red hood. Ironically, that's also his name: the Red Hood.

“…He’s actually Jason.”

And with the way he says it so quietly, so softly; you'd almost think you imagined him saying those two words.

Almost.

But almost is never enough, especially not in this moment. You need more.

“What?” You whisper harshly.

He still refuses to look at you but you won't have that anymore.

“Dick, look at me.”

He reluctantly looks you in the eyes and you can tell he feels awful. He feels that way because this isn’t how life after Jason’s death was supposed to be.

He was indescribably euphoric as any loved one would be, but it all came crashing down just as fast and fleeting the feeling was.

He didn’t want it to be this way but alas, when life gives you lemons.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n.”

He can’t imagine how life was like for you but he knows it wasn’t pleasant.

You look at him with gratitude and squeeze his hand in thanks. He squeezes it back and you lay your head on his shoulder as he explains everything.

Jason grumbles and groans half in pain. The other half in disorientation.

Even though your curtains are closed, they don't block the sunlight from coloring in your once-dark living room.

Dick’s lying on his stomach and snoring away.

Jason carefully gets up and sees the older man not so gracefully splayed out across his air mattress (yes, he's one of those people) on the floor.

Jason's gaze follows the confines of your living room. He scopes out the unfamiliar space and he soon finds himself in front of the fridge.

He's staring at the notes and magnets among other things you have hung up. However, his eyes stop in front of a collage of pictures.

You made a photo strip out of the pictures you took with him at this specific photo booth.

There were 5 photos that consist of the strip, each from 5 different dates.

Jason can't figure out why he feels a strange, magnetic pull towards this woman.

She shouldn't mean anything to him but that doesn't sound right.

It's like deep down, he knows- feels like there's something missing. It’s weird; feeling something’s wrong but not knowing what could possibly give that inclination.

He studies the woman that he's sure is the sun. Jason's sure this woman's smile and joy are willing and radiant. In fact, he's so sure this woman is the quintessence of all he's been missing.

A home.

Jason feels a pit of emptiness open up in his stomach that fills up with dread just as quickly.

Jason couldn't remember much of his life before the Lazarus pit breathed it back into his mangled body. His painful rage and sadness were the only evidence tying him to a life beyond revenge and strife.

When and Dick and Bruce realized who the red hood truly was, they did everything in their power to convince the broken boy to come back with them, even if it was just for a little while.

Back at the Wayne manor, he discovered a few memories of what he presumed was a better life, but he also found some things that he didn't think was possible for a man like him.

On his dresser he found what appeared to be a golden wedding band, a Revlon hairbrush, and a key with Buttercup from The PowerPuff Girls printed on it.

He asked Stephanie Brown if those items belong to her or Cassandra Cain but she dismissed the notion. She told him who those items really belonged to but he couldn’t believe it.

A woman he’s romantically involved with? His fiancé?

Yeah, right.

There wasn’t much evidence to make her claim viable, until he found a couple of words engraved inside what he found to be his golden band.

Always — Y/n

“Y/n.” He whispered your name like it was a secret only for him to know.

He stared at the band for a bit, not believing he found something so delicate and pure. A love so strong, it made him want to get married.

Stephanie got to know her older brother through the retelling of memories. Memories that people seemed so fond of. Through them, she learned what he liked, disliked. How Bruce was going to break his rule, bend his code of ethics for him.

Jason talked to her, cared for her. But he never really opened up about himself and what goes on in his head. At the very least, he was there for his little sister when times were tough and that was enough.

He was immortalized by his grave but seeing him in the flesh— at this moment, made her overwhelmingly emotional.

She hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder and he looked at her.

“It was your idea.”

“…Really?”

His heart warms with an unfamiliar fondness.

Jason never thought of himself to be a romantic but this revelation forces him to look at this ring and himself in a different light.

Now as he stands in front of your fridge, Jason thinks this must be you. The woman in these photos, the woman whose name is engraved on the inside of his wedding band, the woman of his dreams. It must be you.

Jason turns around to wake Dick up and tell him about his epiphanies but here he is. Face to face with you, instead.

Your lips part to sharply exhale and you're about to say something but your mind betrays your tongue. You don't want to say what you want him to hear because of the way he's looking at you.

His eyes are wide in surprise. It's her he thinks.

Jason slowly stalks his way towards you like you’re a doe he doesn't want to scare you away.

There's a tremble in your bones. The kind that vibrates with a desperation to pull him into you and never let go.

You want to hug him, kiss him and stare into his once-blue eyes until you count the different flecks of green in them.

But you can't. You can't touch him yet, you can't talk to him like he's your soon-to-be husband yet. You can't softly sing him to sleep when he needs it yet.

So, you’ll settle on yearning for him. You’ll brave a smile when you're wistful and you'll hold on to the hope of him coming back to you.

You're determined to make him remember you no matter how long it takes.

He's in front of you now, there's an almost dazed look on his face.

His eyes are a a grayish-teal, making you question how much of him has truly changed.

“Hello.” Your voice is a bit shaky and breathy.

Jason half-blinks and tilts his chin to the side a bit. “Hi.” He murmurs.

“Why are you two acting like side characters in a high school romance anime?”

His name ain’t ‘Dick’ for nothing!

You've spent the entire afternoon cleaning the guest bed and bath room to make space for Jason.

In the meantime, Jason is trying to figure out how not to make a fool of himself.

“I dunno… what if she's changed her mind?”

Jason’s getting cold feet but he'd never blame you if you did.

“Dude.” Tim sighs. “You were literally the loss of her life all this time.”

And he’s right, Jason knows that.

He’s just really anxious and his insecurities are bubbling up. It's inevitable when it comes to the matters of the heart.

You're not just any girl— you're his fiancé.

In his heart, you’re an integral part of him but in his mind; you’re a woman who deserves so much better.

You can't possibly want to grow old with him.

“It must mean something if she's spent years of her life tolerating you.”

Always count on Damien Wayne to say the thing(s) nobody else will.

Dick quirks up an eyebrow at his baby brother's opinion but when he looks at Jason, they both know he means well.

Stephanie and Cassandra offer him words of advice and encouragement. Though, he's not sure how helpful they'll be as they don't personally know you but apparently, ‘that's besides the point’.

“Just remember what we said and you’ll be fine!”

Duke hands Jason a small lotus plant as he ‘shouldn't show up empty-handed’ if he wants a chance at a great first— well, second impression.

Jason appreciates the gesture as the lotus sends a message of a new beginning, something he’s longing for.

He secures the plant, puts on his helmet and drives his motorcycle back to your house.

“Okay, you got this. Just be cool.”

He rings the bell and you swing open the door without even looking through the blinds. You just knew it'd be him.

You're a little breathless but you suppose he just does that to you.

The two of you lock eyes for a moment until he clears his throat awkwardly.

“This is for you.” Jason smiles politely and you swoon over the baby pink plant.

“Oh, wow.” You beam. “You really didn't have to.”

He disagrees. “I did.”

Your lips split open with a grin, touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Jason.”

He’s nonchalant when he nods, ignoring how nice it felt to see you smile because of him.

“Um,” You point at his shoes. “Could you place them on the rack next to you?”

“Oh! I-I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You say calmly.

You don’t want him to walk on eggshells around you so you won’t mind teaching him how to be familial.

He coughs, still slightly embarrassed at himself (and at how fast his nonchalant streak came to an end).

“This is your room, the bathroom is right over there and, uh, I moved your things in… I hope that's alright?”

You didn't want to overwhelm him but you also wanted him to know that he has a say in things, even though he’s living in a place that used to be a part of him.

He’s touched at your gesture but he feels… disappointed? He’s not quite sure where he wants to be but doesn’t know what the feeling of belonging is like, either.

It’s confusing, but he expresses his gratitude nonetheless.

“Yeah, that’s great. Thank you.”

You nod with pursed lips.

He looks around at the materialistic things that describe him. Posters, collectable figurines, books. He loved his books.

Jason runs his fingers along the spines of the books neatly organized on a shelf.

It's quiet, you almost leave as you deem it intimate; becoming familiar with yourself. Jason is making up for all the time he's lost, not just with you but a part of himself as well.

“I remember when I read Hamlet for the first time.” He says after a while.

You smile knowingly.

“Alfred and I would read and discuss Shakespeare together at our own little private book club.”

Jason picks the book up and randomly flips through the pages, he comes across written annotations on transparent sticky notes.

“What’s this?” He asks, curious.

“Oh,” you walk up to him and he gives the book to you. “These are my annotations from when I read it for the first time.”

You admire the book fondly.

“You’d told me all about the book club so I asked for book recommendations. That way you could talk about your favorite literature with me.”

You're still looking over your notes while Jason stares into your side profile.

He thinks it's endearing; that you care enough about him to indulge in conversation about his hobby.

You also intrigues him.

How could you just so casually think of something so kind and thoughtful? How could you want to spend your time reading and truly understanding every reference, point, plot and quote; just to understand a part of him?

Can someone really care about another person that much?

Jason doesn’t find his answers in his beloved books but something tells him he’ll find out soon enough, in you.

Jason is banned from going out on patrol for the time being.

He was actually supposed to quit altogether when he proposed to you but Joker just had to follow the instinct of his passion: inflicting misery.

Dick insisted that the rest of the members will take care of patrolling as all Jason should focus on is you.

Kinda hard to do that when you're so... well, you.

It’s been a couple of days and he still thinks you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Your beauty shines through your smile and the way you care for him. He feels it under the long, jagged scar carved atop his chest.

He’s distracted when he's reading in the living room.

There you are; in a large t-shirt that drapes over your frame and the neckline is cut. It hangs over one side of your shoulder and the sight takes his breath away.

You're cooking something you know he likes, just because you know how much it comforts him. But he doesn’t realize this yet.

“Jason?”

He averts his gaze and pretends he wasn’t staring at you since you stepped foot into the kitchen, half an hour ago.

“Hm?” His voice cracks just a bit but he hope you don’t notice it.

You turn around at his hum and walk towards the couch.

“Dinner’ll be ready in a few minutes, would you like to watch something while we eat?”

You and Jason used to watch movies and shows all the time together, courtesy of one of your love languages being quality time.

He bookmarks his page and sets his book down.

“Actually, I wanted to talk.”

You blink and show you’re listening intently.

His fingers rake through his hair nervously. “I was wondering if we could talk about stuff that would help jog my memory.”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod and smile at him.

He smiles back, albeit small but he does.

“Okay.” He claps his hands together and goes to the kitchen to wash his hands.

As you set the table, Jason watches you carefully. He wanted to know everything. Every chore, every part of your routine, every detail. He wanted to help with dinner but was nervous to be near you.

What if he made you uncomfortable? He’d thought about it; his size, his demeanor, the fact that he’s not the man you’ve been around.

Everything’s changed since his… rebirth.

Life’s been hard and Jason doesn’t understand how to cope with the new set of incongruous events.

He sits across from you, a knee bouncing up and down under the table as you sit down.

You look at him expecting to start eating but find he’s not.

“Do you not like it?”

Along with his physique and mental health, you were afraid the liking to his most favorable things had changed, too.

He blinks in confusion. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He quickly realizes how that sounds.

“Wait, that’s not—” His eyes are wide, head shaking a bit in refusal with his hands up. “I meant, no, as in… I haven’t tried it yet.”

You don’t want to laugh but you think it’s kind of funny watching him trip over his words.

The mannerism brings you back to a kinder time.

“Are you nervous?”

His smile is a bit lopsided when he picks up the fork.

“A little..?”

You can’t tell if it’s a question but you nod, trying to make him feel as welcome as possible.

“It’s alright.” You assure. “This is all very new for you so, please don’t feel as though you have to be polite to make me feel better.”

You offer him an encouraging smile before looking away, afraid you’ll burst into tears.

He stares at you for a moment, a bit stunned at your kind and refreshing candor.

Jason begins eating and has to hold himself back from emitting sounds of surprise and approval.

As he chews, he thinks about the flavor. He believes the taste of the spices blended with the taste to be familiar but is doubtful.

“Have I…”

You look up at the beginning of his line of questioning.

“I feel like I’ve had this before.”

You hum and nod in agreement. “You have.”

You think about quoting him back to himself, hoping that would be a good start.

“You used to say it was one of your-”

“Comfort foods.” He completes.

The relief that fills your being makes your heart speed up in excitement.

There’s a glint of excitement in your eyes. One that could easily be characterized as hope.

Jason feels it, too.

When he takes another bite and lets the flavors melt on his tongue, he lets himself feel the precise taste you so carefully measured with your mind.

Jason wanted to stop by the local farmer’s market so you decide to get some laundry done.

You’re folding your clothes and are deep in thought about him.

There’s potential, you think. A lot of potential to recover lost memories and make new ones along the way.

It’s the matter of whether or not he wants to do them with you that has you stuck.

The hopeful side of you believes he’s stayed this far, surely he feels the same.

The rational part of you doubts it.

You can never find the same person twice, not even in the same person.

You think about the lost look on his face you catch at times. You see it when he thinks he’s hidden it well beyond your gaze. You see it when he’s all alone and has his mind to himself.

You’re afraid to lose him. Again.

Your vision blurs with the unshed tears pooling in your eyes and you look down to blink them away. They plop to the ground and you quietly sniffle, not wanting to break just yet.

There's an ache in your left shoulder blade and an insistent ruckus of doubt swirling in your head.

You can't sleep soundly anymore, not that you ever did since his death.

His death, you think.

It still hasn't hit you, that he's alive. He's here, in the flesh and in your home. You're able to talk to him, see him.

You remember how you'd piece your heart back together the next morning after letting it break the night prior.

You bite your tongue when the emotions overwhelm you, when you feel as though you'll die if you don't speak. So you bury those words deep in your journal, where ink meets paper and stays far away from his eyes.

Your eyes quickly gather more tears than you can keep from shedding and soon, you’re crying silently to yourself. For the umpteenth time.

It hurts. Your heart hurts and your throat hurts. Hurt is the only other feeling you’ve come close to familiarizing yourself with other than hope.

You don’t hear Jason’s motorcycle engine when he’s outside. You don’t hear his heavy footsteps mark their way onto your floor once like how they used to.

He stands outside but doesn’t have the heart to see you. Hearing how wrecked you are was enough.

It hurts him, not being able to remember from the jump but he knows how patient you are. How understanding you are.

He figures the most kindest souls are the ones that hurt the most.

So, he leaves. He spends another hour and a half out and decides to get you your favorite things.

Walking through the aisles, the plastic bags of grapes catch his attention the most.

“She loves these.” He says as he picks up the biggest, juiciest batch.

The assurance in his words gives him a confidence that rivals your doubt.

A short flashback of you munching away on the grapes as you study enters his mind.

You’re sitting by a windowsill and you’re typing away, pausing every few minutes to snack on the round fruit.

He smiles to himself and grabs a bag along with some sliced pineapples and mangoes.

“Cherries… with salt.” He hums to himself.

Yes, you like to eat your washed cherries with some salt sprinkled on top.

Jason chuckles as the memory of you whipping up that treat comes to mind.

He picks up a bag of those round, tangy red rubies and goes to checkout.

He’s practically buzzing with excitement as he can’t wait to see the look on your face when you see how much he’s gaining you back.

He returns with the sight of laundry done and put away, the dishes are washed and your lotus plant watered for the week.

But no sight of you.

Where are you?

Jason debates calling your cell.

Would it be weird?

You’re not his, well, anything. But you used to be.

Your caller ID tempts his thumb but he ultimately clicks off his phone.

You’ll show up sooner or later, wherever you are… right?

You’re a grown woman, you can take care of yourself.

His breath staggers in his throat at the thought of you by yourself.

What if some asshole creeps up on you? What if you run into some kind of problem but your phone’s drained? What if you get lost?

He groans as if the noise will silence those nightmarish scenarios. Jason’s hands pull at his hair and he paces back and forth in thought.

“Fuck it.” He grumbles.

He throws his black leather jacket on, keys and helmet in hand. Tying the laces to his boots, he twists the knob and opens the door.

“Y/n?!”

His eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his skull.

Your eyebrows jump at his sudden shout, clearly not expecting this welcome.

“Umm… expecting someone else?”

He shakes his head vigorously, depicting a relieved expression.

You chuckle at him and step inside. Jason never takes his eyes off of you, he locks the door with muscle memory.

“No, God, no. I was just worried— where were you?”

You feel the butterflies swarm your belly at his concern.

“I had to throw the trash out and it wasn't too far so I didn't take my car.” You point at the small bowl by the door and sure enough, your keys are in there.

He follows the beeline from your finger and can only say one thing.

“Oh.”

Oh? Oh?? You were losing your mind over some simple chore and all you can say is ‘Oh.’?

Jason feels stupid.

How could he not try to look for the one obvious thing you can’t go anywhere without? Just jumping to the worst conclusions without thinking straight.

He chuckles in disbelief, bringing a hand to cover the top half of his face in embarrassment.

“I’m so fucking—”

“Altruistic.”

You knew he was going to berate himself in humiliation and think of himself as stupid or some second thing so you brought it upon yourself to dismiss that notion.

Jason is floored by your ability to see things in a different light, one that makes others orientate their original position.

He never thought about it that way. Not once did it occur to him that he was being thoughtful, caring, considerate. Altruistic.

It's true that he's a vigilante. An anti-hero, if you will. Protecting others and being altruistic are synonymous.

However, to him; it's a foreign concept to be on the receiving end. He thinks it's suffocating to be looked after as if he were a child. Especially when people (his father) do things that they (bruce wayne) deem best for someone (him).

Well, he used to up until a week and a half ago. Until you came along.

“Altruistic.” He repeats, feeling the word roll off his tongue.

“You know, the term used to describe people who go out of their way to do something for someone?”

You're only joking, playing around with him.

He sees it, though. He knows you're trying to lighten the mood because of what you don't know.

Jason just nods, a short chuckle sounding as he responds to your dry wit.

“Right, right. Yeah. I think I've heard of that somewhere.”

You laugh. You laugh and it feels nice. Probably because it's the first time you've truly laughed in some time.

Jason wants to encase some of your laughter in a jar and shake it around when he feels down.

It’s a lovely sound, he notes. Like a satisfying tinkering that makes your mind just slow down for a bit. Relax and take a moment to just breathe.

Your short huffs of air dissipate. “You catch on pretty fast.”

“That I do.”

If only you knew. he thinks. He wants to tell you that it's okay to cry, to let the part of yourself break and piece back. He wants you to know that you don't have to pretend nothing's wrong and that the obvious elephant in the room can be addressed.

Instead, he doesn't do either of those things. Jason doesn't think he's earned the right to reassure you of things like that. He doesn't think it's his place but oh, the irony.

Jason Todd feels like a 16 year old boy again.

Not in the sense of being immature, stupid, and reckless. More to do with the matter of his growing body and the feelings that come with it.

He’s big, huge, even. He knows he takes up more space than he means to occupy so he does what he thinks is the least he can do.

For example, he eats more than the average man so he insists on helping with the groceries by paying for them sometimes.

You argue, and boy do you lock it down; but it’s in vain when he looks at you with those deep eyes and mutters a small, ‘just let me do this for you’.

For me.

You’re weak when he asserts himself against your judgement.

He feels 16 again when you look at him with nothing but unwavering care and respect.

He used to get those looks, he remembered. Once upon a time where he wasn’t undead.

It was from the boy he respects the most; his older brother.

Jason started getting dreams since the first night he slept in your apartment.

Usually, he can’t sleep and when he did; he’d get nightmares. But not this time around.

He dreams of a time in the past, one where he’s not beating on a lowly thug or vice-versa.

It’s oddly bright but not blinding, the daylight fills in color nicely.

You’re sitting on a bed— he believes it to be your old one— and you’re making something out of nothing.

“Whatcha doin’?” You say without breaking eye contact from the scissors cutting a heart shape into the cardboard paper.

Jason registers you’re talking to him but he doesn’t know what to say.

“Is this real?”

You snort and shake your head.

“No, Jace. You’re in a sleep-induced coma and I’m the light that’s come to finally take you away.”

A wide grin has slowly etched itself onto his lips, it lifts his cheeks and creases his eyes.

He sees your excellent timing for witty quips is still there. He also notes the way you carry yourself around his presence. You’re relaxed, calm.

You’re still the same you.

He sits at the edge down of the bed and you look at him with offense.

“Why’re you sitting so far away?” You pout

“But I’m right here.”

You lightly groan and reach out to pull him closer to you, his knees touch your thigh and only then are you satisfied.

“Better.” You express to him.

Jason takes this moment to get a good look at you.

He’s sure you’ve grown into your features now, time and style enhancing your appearance.

Everyone changes physically but he realizes it’s the inside he’s looking for.

“Jay?”

“Hm?”

“Wake up.”

That makes his heart drop out of his ass. He nervously blinks. “What?”

You look at him like you know. Like you know he doesn’t belong here, in the past.

“Wake up.”

You say once again but your lips aren’t moving. Why aren’t your lips moving?

“Hey, Jason. Wake up.”

He sharply gasps when he sits up, soft pants escape his throat and you’re here.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” You reassure.

Your hands are on his shoulder and you’re sitting on the bed.

There’s a small nightlight plugged in beside the door to the bathroom and it illuminates your figure.

He makes out your face in the dark and once he realizes, he winds down.

“I couldn’t breathe.”

You nod. “I know. I was getting some water when I heard you wheezing.”

You were scared. You were worried and he knows it. He hears it in your wavering voice.

“I’m okay now.”

Jason doesn’t know why he feels the need to comfort you but he does.

Your hands aren’t on his shoulders anymore but he feels the warmth your touch leaves behind.

“I’m fine.” He murmurs again.

You just nod and get up to leave when his hand darts out to wrap around your fingers.

“…I had a dream. Er, nightmare? I dunno… A mix of both, I guess.”

You sit down and he wonders why he’s telling you this but the need to tell you overshadows his want to keep it inside.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

You hope asking him won’t trigger anything because the last thing you want is to be nosy.

“We were in your room, I’m pretty sure. You were younger, though. Fifteen.”

You recall the moments Jason would sneak in from your bedroom window in your youth. He was 16 and you, 15.

Good times.

“You were making something… I don’t remember what, exactly.” He squints and moves his hands around, trying to recall the events leading up to the imagery. “I heard your voice telling me to ‘wake up’ but your lips weren’t moving.”

He looks at you, coming to an understanding. “Because you were telling me to wake me up in real time.”

You look at him and can’t help but feel sad.

“I'm sorry” You whisper, not trusting your voice.

Instantly, Jason cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing the skin under your eyes tenderly.

“I’m not.” He assures. “If this is what has to happen to me to remember you then I'm good with it.”

You close your eyes and sigh, your palms full with the bunched up material of your shorts.

He tilts his head closer to you, as if the distance is what's keeping you from truly seeing what's in his eyes.

“Look at me.” He gently asks.

You comply and he almost crumbles with how much you've managed to hide from him.

His eyebrows raise a little and come together in ruth. “Don't hide from me. Don't hide how you really feel.”

Jason doesn't know how he's doing this— touching you and saying all the right things. The words are just spilling out and for once, he can't stop himself.

Maybe because it's almost 3am and that's when his tongue and spine meet; to relay all emotion without a hiccup. 3am is when he's unabashed in his feeling, unafraid of his truth.

You stare. Your big, beautiful eyes pick at the spare parts of his woeful soul and you see. You see the windows of his soul tainted with an unimaginable sorrow.

“I can't.” You choke out.

How can you not hide yourself from him? How can you look at him and not want to open up your heart and let him see what's growing inside?

You're grief-stricken, he's melancholic. That isn't going anywhere.

“Y/n.” He implores you to reason with him. To give him a chance at witnessing you.

You feel like you’re drowning. You can’t breathe, your chest hurts and you feel your lungs constrict.

You can’t tell him how you really feel. He already feels guilty as is so how are you supposed to just let him read your mind?

To know how much you long for someone who can’t remember what you mean to them, to see how badly the lack of their presence has affected you.

Jason has no idea what realizing those things does to a person, what impact it’ll have on him.

He’s not ready.

“I… Good night, Jason.” You heave.

He watches you walk away, cutting him deep and leaving him to bleed dry.

The next morning can only be described as awkward. Tense awkwardness, actually.

There’s been no sign of you leaving your room since last night and it’s currently half past 2.

Jason hasn’t slept since you left the room. He was up all night evaluating all the possible outcomes from that point on.

Should he leave?

He knows you won’t ask him to but he wouldn’t abide by the request, anyway. He’s become selfish.

Yes, Jason Todd has grown accustomed to you and this little life of peace but he can’t be blamed. This is what he signed up for when he put a ring on it.

The ring. Your ring.

Now that he’s thinking about it, he’s seen you wearing it 24/7. Your left wedding finger is always donning the engagement ring, not once do you take it off.

Even when washing the dishes.

It is at this moment he has an epiphany. You were so close to letting your walls come down but seeing how afraid he was, painted in a foreign frame; you backed down.

He’s suddenly conscious of how much anguish you’re willing to put up with if it means for him to experience a minimal amount.

You want him to remember you without accepting the consequences of mental strain. You don’t want him to push past his anxiety, to make him face his fear of the unknown; but you’ll face your tears on your own.

A deep anger simmers inside him.

The amount of selflessness you’ve shown is incredibly unfair.

Isn’t marriage a united proposition? Isn’t his duty as your husband to make your problems his, to support you through all things good and bad?

You just backed away without giving him a chance to fully comprehend you.

How could you do that? Why did you do that?

Jason’s made a visceral statement in your life and he must know. He has to remember.

With a newfound confidence, he vows to try harder. He vows to push himself past the brink of frustration to remember you. He vows to do whatever it takes and replace that vacant look in your eyes with all those years of love and care.

He swings the door open and strides towards your bedroom. He knocks, a gentle rhythm of rapping. “Y/n? Are you there?”

He waits about 30 seconds before knocking and calling out your name again.

Nothing. No response.

Jason thinks about trying the knob but the last thing he wants is to scare you away.

Invading your privacy is a hard pass but he has to get through to you. He feels as if he’s running out of time.

In a desperate attempt to get a hold of you, he twists the knob but finds the space empty without you.

He goes to the bowl by the door and finds no sight of your keys but a sticky note, instead. Be back soon it reads.

Jason walks back to your room, standing in the middle of the doorway; unsure.

There’s a magnet inside that’s poking him, coaxing him to come in.

He knows he shouldn’t but would he find clues to a past life?

He tentatively steps inside, his eyes wandering around the interior.

Your color theme is fitting. Very you.

The walls are painted a nice color in coordination to your queen sized bedding. There’s a small bedside table with a couple of drawers with the most unique lamp he’s ever seen— a white lily of the valley flower and the bulb is inside!

It’s so you. He huffs out air through his nose and smiles.

He spots a halfway closed journal with a pen inside, marking a spot atop the desk.

No. I can’t.

But he wants to. He wants to know so bad what you’re really like. Who you are when you’re not performing for anyone else.

Jason wants to read the thoughts you keep buried so deep inside yourself, the secrets your heart closets. The pains your soul harbors.

But he can’t break the only trust he’s so worked so hard to build.

Jason runs his fingers across the spine of the book, feeling the embroidered thread run along.

There’s a poster above the table, one of your favorite movies.

A flash of color and sound hits his senses all at once. It looks like a memory of the movie.

Laughter, soft gasps, theatrical music to invoke foreboding feeling; only to be met with an emotional resolution from the unfortunate scene.

Tears run down your face as the beloved character faces his untime demise.

You couldn’t believe this. After all this time, all that character development, and he just… dies?

Jason doesn’t seem as tore up about it as you are but he feels for the character.

“He doesn’t deserve this.” You sniffle.

Jason nods, his arm around makes you close you in on his side and he rubs your arm up and down in a soothing manner. “I know.”

Jason exhales harshly, like he’d been holding a breath for too long.

He moves around, trying to find more things to jog his memory.

A glass jewelry box filled with pearls, gold, silver and rose gold jewelry catch his attention.

Where have I seen this before?

It’s like déjà vu except he can feel some kind of attachment to the object.

A finger lifts the lid and he finds a gold pole with a miniature ballerina glued onto it, separating the box into four sections.

“Happy birthday, Y/n!”

You’re surprised, of course a “simple dinner” wasn’t so simple. Nothing with Jason is, and that’s the beauty of being with him.

“Open my gift first!” Stephanie exclaimed.

You chuckled at her excitement and tore off the wrapping paper, ignoring everyone’s eyes gauging your reaction.

You softly gasp as the gift becomes visible, the beautiful glass case exceeding your expectations of a perfect jewelry box.

“Thank you, Steph.” You envelop her in a tight embrace, feeling oddly emotional.

“Welcome to the family.” She warmly congratulates.

It wasn’t official, not yet; but to be loved is to be seen. Feeling so loved by people who love Jason is fulfilling.

He watches as the two most important women in his life warm up to one another and he thinks of how blessed he is.

He blinks and is transported back into the present.

It’s working.

A joyous laughter exits his lips, the air filling his once empty lungs with a newfound hope.

A picture frame of you and him lies on your dresser.

He’s carrying you in his arms bridal style while your head is tipped back; an expressive look of joy on your face. He’s looking directly at the camera, donning a proud smirk in front of the apartment.

You two are in color while the rest of the background is in black and white.

There’s a small note at the bottom left, written in cursive. Congrats to our fav couple! with a smiley face next to it.

It’s like salt on the wound, seeing this photo.

He can feel his heart growing hands, scratching at the scar on his chest to be let out. To be freed from this torment of feeling.

The photo depicts everything he used to wished for, everything he had and everything that’s faded right now.

Your diamond ring shines brightly, competing with your smile and his eyes.

His index finger traces an outline of you and him. “I’m coming back to you.” He whispers.

You've been gone for quite some time, a little over 3 hours but you needed the time. You needed the hours to take a long reflection of the current state of things.

You kept thinking he wasn't ready but you realized that it was you. You weren't ready. Aren't ready? You don't know.

How does one find a way to cope with severe loss only for the pain and yearning to be diminished overnight.

Literally, overnight for you.

Events of last night come washing over your brain like a montage of your top 10 most embarrassing moments. It easily takes the place for #1.

You sigh, curling your fingers into your hair and gently tugging on them to punish yourself.

He didn’t deserve that. Just because you’re frightened of the future doesn’t mean he has to be on the receiving end of your cowardice.

You have to talk to him, to make this right.

You come back home at a reasonable time; right before you should start preparing for dinner.

It’s kind of dark, like a gloomy gray shadow blankets your living room.

But you see him. He’s sitting on the sofa waiting for your arrival.

“Jason.” You say his name so softly, he almost doesn’t hear it.

Another side effect from being baptized by the forbidden vat of acid are his attuned senses.

“I was waiting for you.” His voice is louder and clearer compared to yours.

“I know.” You nod.

“We need to talk.” He stands slowly, not wanting to alarm you.

“We do.”

“Then why don’t we?”

The desperation seeps into his throat but he doesn’t care. He can’t help it.

You shuffle your feet, feeling lighter on your steps.

“I’m afraid.”

Your admission is out of fear, anxiety, all things quiet. But it’s brave, sound, and all things hopeful.

Your sober judgement brings him closer to you.

“I can’t lose you again, Jason.”

You’re teetering on the edge of holding back and letting go.

He sees that.

Jason slowly brings his hands up, stopping at the length of your elbow. He’s still hesitant, wanting to touch you but nervous of the contact.

“You won’t.” He’s sure of himself. “I’m right here.”

He takes a hold of your elbows and his thumb subconsciously rubs up and down the skin.

You look into his eyes and all you see is the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

He’s still in there.

“I’m trying. For you… for us.” He whispers the two-lettered word and it weighs heavy with the connotation.

“I just need you to throw me a bone.”

Despite the plea, he gives you a lopsided smile. One that shows he’s not annoyed or agitated with you.

And it makes you huff through your nose.

“Please?” He tries once more, a cute demeanor taking the place of his more serious tone.

You nod with pursed lips. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He whispers back.

You sit next to him on the sofa, sitting upright and where he can your side profile. Jason leans back in a small manspread.

“Where do you wanna start?” You ask.

Jason sits on this for a moment.

There’s so much he wants to know and at very different points in time. He thinks to tell you about his progress, the fleeting reels of the entire picture he envisioned.

Ultimately, he decides to have a go at the start.

“What was I like? To you, I mean.”

It shouldn’t surprise you that he asked one of the most obvious questions but it does. It surprises you because he hasn’t changed much.

You smile softly to yourself as time turns back. “You’re kind, gentle. Soft-spoken, loyal and so easy to talk to.”

He notices how you speak of him in present tense and not past like how he initially asked.

“You’re still the same.” You point.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

You tilt your head. “How do you mean?”

“I, uh.” He sighs deeply. “I don’t know how to go back to how things… were.”

It’s not an admission of guilt, so why does it feel like one?

“I don’t either.”

You bounce your knee, a subconscious habit.

Jason picks up on it though. Before he can control himself, it slips out.

“Stop that.”

You stop and meet his gaze.

He looks shocked at himself. “I- I’m sorry. I don’t know why... how—?”

“I do.” You say. “You used to say that when I’d get ahead of myself. In my thoughts.”

“In your thoughts?” He parrots.

You just nod enthusiastically, so happy with this sign of progress. “Yes! You could just tell what was going on with me.”

He nods, crossing one leg over the other.

“I didn’t mean to tell you to stop bouncing your leg.” He clarifies. “It just… it felt natural to say that.”

“It’s completely okay. I mean it.”

You titter and Jason thinks of wind chimes.

“What else?”

He hums in thought. “Our relationship.”

“I was fifteen and you, sixteen.”

Jason’s immediately reminded of his dream.

“Sorry to interrupt but was my dream real? Was that an actual memory?”

Your lips turn up at this attention to detail. “Yes. I was working on a project for my midterm and you came over to keep me company.”

“Woah.” He breathes. “We’ve known each other for that long.”

“Yeah, you asked me out a little after that and we’ve been together ever since.”

Jason thinks of his adoptive father. “Did Bruce know?”

You think of all the times you’d gone over to the mansion and acquainted yourself with its people.

“He said I was ‘probably the only good thing going’ in your life.” You quote his words and can’t help but feel a sadness for him.

You lost your lover, a piece of your heart. But he lost his son.

“Y/n?” Jason calls your name.

Your neutral expression shifts to that of being pulled from daydreaming.

“Yeah.” You blink.

Jason catches the swift switch up and wants to know if you’ll dodge him when he asks.

“Where’d you go just now?”

A lie sits on the tip of your tongue but you realize that you can’t keep him or yourself from the truth anymore. You can’t keep shielding yourselves from the inevitable reality.

“You made me think of Bruce.” You say honestly.

The man who’d gone to the ends of the Earth for vengeance. The man who was about to break his “no kill” rule.

Jason has yet to extend a helping hand in mending their fractured relationship. One person at a time he thinks.

“We got engaged young. I was nineteen.” You twist the ring around your finger.

“Was I romantic enough?”

His eyes are filled with mirth when your cheeks pull back and reveal your teeth.

Your smile is so beautiful. He takes a mental picture of it every time you show a variation.

The creases at the corners, the dimples, and lines all make your smile only that much better.

He wants to make you smile more. He’s so lost in the way your lips move that he forgets the original question.

“You proposed over a candlelit dinner at my favorite restaurant.”

He grows shy at the sentiment, hanging his head down and covering his face with a hand while his body shakes with mirth.

“Wow.” He muses.

You laugh at him, in the mood for some light teasing. “What, you getting shy Todd?”

His head snaps up at the fondness dripping from your tone at his last name. He’d never heard someone say his name like that before.

“No.”

He can deny it all he wants but the faint hue of red creeping up on his face says otherwise.

“You had the band play a song, too.”

You want to see if he can get this. It’s an incredibly important detail, one of which encompasses a very loving memory.

He racks his head around for this. A song. A song? There’s so many, which one could set the atmosphere for a promise of lifelong commitment?

Then, it’s like the whole room changes. An oil spill mirage of the restaurant paints the room.

You’re in a black dress, your hair’s done nice.

He closes his eyes and he can almost feel the air all those years ago.

The familiar melody of the tune rings in his ears and he knows he’s got it for sure.

Jason opens his eyes and is brought back to the present.

“The Flamingos.” He says.

It’s like he can still hear the song playing softly over conversation.

“I only have eyes…”

“For you.” You finish the lyric.

You two giggle, feeling silly and slightly awkward but it’s fulfilling. It’s like how it used to be.

He clicks his tongue, content with the shared experience.

“What about you?” He wonders.

“What about me?”

“Your life.”

Oh. Right.

Your eyelids flutter in a half-blink and suddenly the carpet is the most interesting thing in the world.

“My whole life fell apart. I didn’t know how to get through the day.”

I forgot how is left unsaid.

Jason eyes your mask slipping away.

“I was twenty when you were murdered.”

Murdered, he was murdered. That’s the truth.

The Joker was put away in jail for his crimes against humanity while Jason— your Jason— was lying the cold, hard ground. Barely breathing yet still alive

“I, uhh… quit college for a year. Couldn’t do it.” You pitifully chuckle at yourself.

You sharply inhale when your emotions come bubbling up to the surface again. “I eventually went back and finished my degree. Graduated cum laude at twenty-four.”

His eyes crease as his pride and joy defied the odds for her life. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” You shyly grin.

He drums his fingers along his knees.

It occurs to you that despite your life’s lost momentum, the momentum on Jason’s life picked up faster than it ever had.

“And you?”

He doesn’t expect to be interviewed. “What about me?”

“What were you doing for the past four and a half years?”

Sweat forms under his palms and he subconsciously rubs them along his pajama pant clad thighs. Jason feels his face turn warm, he prays the redness doesn’t bloom along his cheeks.

“…I’d rather not talk about that.”

You give him a knowing look. “Jason.”

He winces, an eye closing while he sucks in air from his teeth. “Why do you sound like an upset mother?”

An incredulous laugh bubbles in your throat. “I'm not upset, just don't want you pulling a me."

He relents. “Okay, okay, alright. Fine, you win.”

He deeply sighs, rubbing his eyes and you turn your body to fully face him. You're legs are crossed and you sit up straight.

“You know Talia al Ghul.”

You nod, Damien’s mother isn’t exactly a popular subject but he is.

“She resurrected me using the pit and brought me back to train under the League of Assassins and the All-Caste.”

He was training for all those years?

“Training… for what?”

A grim expression overtakes his features. “I wanted to kill Bruce because I thought he left me to die.”

Pity is the last thing he wants but you can’t help but feel bad for him. He was tortured for so long, in the worst ways possible only to be mislead like that in the end.

“And now?” You hope he’s changed his mind.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

You unknowingly smile. “Okay. Yeah, that’s good.”

“I spent the last six months focusing solely on being a vigilante.”

“A vigilante.” You repeat.

Yes, you know there's more than what he's letting on but you want to hear his story from him. Isn't that what people who care for the other do?

“Yeah, I took care of the bad guys and started a little side hustle of my own.” He says it like it's no big deal

“I wouldn't call being a drug slash crime lord a ‘little’ side hustle.”

Jason's face blanks, he pales as you reveal the overall tone behind his cryptic message.

“You know.”

“Dick told me after he showed up with you.”

His eyes seemed to look right through you.

For the first time, you couldn't tell what was going on with him. You could no longer discern the distinction between his feelings and thoughts.

“Don't be mad. Please.” Your bargain comes rushing out.

“I'm not mad,” He voices in a hushed manner. “...’m just thinking.”

“Tell me.” You hesitantly put a hand on his. "I want to know what you're thinking."

A deep breath is sucked into his lungs. “I'm thinking about how much I want you.”

You dart back and forth between his eyes. He watches as your irises move between his slightly changed ones but contunues.

“I'm thinking about how someone like you can be with someone like me.”

He shifts his body slightly in your direction, wanting to close this space.

“I’m thinking about how despite everything, I've changed in more ways than one and you've still remained the same.”

“That's not true.” You shake your slightly.

“But it is, Y/n. My senses are heightened, my body isn't the same. I-I’m constantly feeling like I’m missing something and yet you're still here.”

Why wouldn't you be?

“Why, Y/n? Why haven't you given up on me?”

The answer to his questions are simple because it's the same answer. Yet, you're finding it difficult to say it it this moment.

“Why did you stop me from shutting you out?” You ask instead.

He stares at you, contemplating blurting out the thoughts and feelings that have plagued him since epiphany.

“Because I...”

You lean into him. “Because you?”

Jason looks away and shuts his eyes, trying to contain his brain running on a hundred thoughts per second.

“I… care about you, okay? And I’m not the same man I was before but I care.”

Your hands slide on top of his and the coldness of his knuckles diminish as your warmth spreads. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

Tears fill your eyes and he melts. His eyebrows furrow and forms a wrinkle.

“I hate it when you cry.” He says as his palm encompasses the back of your neck and he pushes you into his shoulder.

You hold his arms as you sniffle lightly into his bicep as his other hand rubs your back up and down.

“I know you’re different but he still lives inside you. I can see it.”

Jason thinks about that. Is it possible?

If you didn’t change so much then could it be that there’s a chance for him to connect to that version of himself?

It was never about going back. It was never about denying his existence now and stick who he was onto his back.

It’s always been about adapting to change. Learning to let go what doesn’t serve you and accepting that with time, you must change, too.

Jason may recover the lost pieces of who he used to be but he still has to learn who he is.

“We can make new memories.” Your watery voice croaks.

You sit back and look at him, really take your time to absorb this moment. Him. Us.

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes for everything to come back. We can still make the best of what we have now.”

He stares at you and knows you’re on the same plane as him. You always were.

He cups your face and tilts your head towards him, pressing a kiss to your head. You close your eyes at his touch.

“We will.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hii, not sure if this is acceptable but can you do ENA x a Fem!Reader who has her period and ENA is just concerned and scared in every direction, like she sees her s/o in bed clearly in pain and then she sees blood on the bed and she's panicking until her s/o says it's 100% normal

I just got over mine so this is perfect timing LMAO

........

Even in this bizarre world, you aren't free from the torment of periods.

But at first you weren't even thinking about it.

With all that's been going on and the various misadventures with your girlfriend, getting your period was understandably the last thing on your mind.

Until one morning (or whenever you woke up), you felt those usual cramps starting up again.

Then your whole body becomes tense as you sit up and discover blood on the sheets-

And of course, that's when Ena decides to show up.

"Gooooood morning, my dearest! How did you.....um....." She spots the bloodstains and freezes. Your bed looks like the crime scene of a recent murder. "Hey...um.... i-isn't your blood supposed to be inside your body?"

The sheer embarrassment of your girlfriend seeing you like this is enough to make you flustered, and wanting her out ASAP. "Ena, leave me alone for a minute. And close the door--owww.."

As soon as you try to stand, a painful cramp strikes you, and you're forced to sit back down.

Ena's standing there still, looking mortified. "A-Are you sure you're okay-??"

"JUST CLOSE THE DOOR PLEASE!!"

Immediately, you see her switch to her Sad form as she cries out apologies and runs away, slamming the door shut.

'Great...so much for a "good" morning..'

As soon as you're done taking care of things, you open the door to see Ena pacing back and forth, no longer acting hysterically but still looking very scared.

The moment she lays eyes on you, she's all over you.

"S/O! You're okay?? All your blood is back inside you?" She hugs you tightly. "I'm relieved. That was quite a scare you gave me!"

"I-I know it must've looked bad, Ena. And I'm sorry. I...probably should've explained this to you a long time ago..."

"Explain what, exactly?"

"....that this is normal for humans."

"...p-pardon??????"

The remainder of the day is pretty much spent with you explaining periods to her, while reassuring her over and over again that she can't get one because she isn't human.

She's quick to understand, and will do her best to take care of you over the next few days, going on quests to fetch you a heating pad or whatever you needed to feel better.

But of course, her Sad form might come out a lot because seeing you in pain also brings her pain. When that happens, she offers herself up as a "punching bag" for your emotions.

She even says you can yell at her if it helps. You obviously aren't gonna do that.

When your period starts up next time, she helps you manage it a lot better.

Although the sight of blood is still quite upsetting to her, she promises to stay by your side no matter what.

[tamlinweek]

A special Tamlin Week surprise: Tamlin reads your fics!

The mods here at Tamlin Week are SO delighted and honored to present Henry Kramer, Tamlin's voice actor of the ACOTAR graphic audio books, reading Tamlin fanfiction lines in character.

None of this would be possible without @laziestkiwi, who messaged us and got us in touch with Henry. We crowdsourced some of your favorite fanfic lines, and sent them to Henry to peruse. He picked a few of those lines to read and recorded them FOR FREE!

If you enjoy Henry's work as much as we do, be sure to follow him on Twitch, Instagram, or Facebook. You can also get in touch with him on his website here to commission him for voice acting work.

As a side note: We sent Henry almost 60 lines of fanfiction, with no expectation that he would read every single one. The lines read were chosen by Henry, who is not involved in fandom in any way. The chosen lines and authors do not represent any favoritism by the mods here, they were simple the quotes that spoke most to Henry.

And now, on to the main event! Tamlin bringing your fanfiction to life!

Bravery Is In Spite Of Fear by @achaotichuman

“You never lost me.” He murmured, pressing another kiss, this one to her brow, “You have never lost me.”

Am I making you feel sick? by @yaralulu

Be angry. Show me how angry you are.

When Lucien opened his mouth to say another irritable thing, Tamlin shut him up the only way he knew how. He kissed him.

Eternal Equinox by @sonics-atelier

Spring and Autumn, now as one,   A union blessed beneath the sun.   Through seasons’ turn, their love shall bloom,            Eternal life through earth’s perfume.

carry that weight by @fourteentrout

"I need to protect my people in the ways I know how. I'm needed out there more than I am in here." He answered anyway, nodding towards the forest beyond the grounds.

“Does that unmake me? Am I a new being with every form I take?” The High Lord asked without bite. “I am who I am.”

borrowed time by @ipona

"I meant what I said." He looks at Rhys, catching his gaze, holding it for a moment longer than Rhys expects him to. "And who of us isn't a brute, really?"

Songs of Spring by @themildestofwriters

“It’s a song about hope,” Tamlin said, finally, slouching forward and meeting Tarquin’s eyes. “About how, even after the darkest times, I could still find happiness — joy, even. It might take years, decades, centuries, even, but it will pass as surely as night turns to day.”

Tarquin nodded, understanding, and smiled. “Or as winter turns to summer. A true song of Spring, then.”

cosmogeny by @highlordofkrypton

It takes Tamlin a moment to find the words he’d like to gift to Nyx. No matter what they are, Nyx will cherish them, as he has with any other moment in the presence of his light. When Tamlin speaks, it’s with a wistful smile on his handsome face.

“Because I’ve just met you, and it’s always a shame to lose someone, especially someone you’re fond of.”

How Nesta Archeron Learned to Trap A Beast by @achaotichuman

“Ready?” Tamlin asked. Nesta didn’t answer him, just walked into the forests before them. Tamlin let her get far enough into the tree lines that he couldn’t see her before he shouted, “Wrong way!” “Fuck you!”

“I’m here. I’m here Nesta.” He said. “Stay with me.” She whispered, “Please.” There was a moment of pure silence, one that bore into her heavy soul. “I would never leave.” He promised her, “Never.”

The Gown by @goforth-ladymidnight

"I love you, thorns and all, and I always will."

dividers made by @olenvasynyt

[stevesgother]

i adore chalkboard hearts! could i see steve and reader explaining to abby shes gunna be a big sister 🥰

here is this for you darling <3 thank you so much for reading steve harrington x fem!reader

"Mommy?" Abbey asks as she mindlessly roots through the bathroom drawers, looking for nothing in particular, "What is this thing?"

You barely spare a glance from where you're applying your makeup in the mirror above the sink. Ever since the wedding, Abbey has made it her life's mission to never not be right next to you. 'Misdirected jealousy', your mom had told you. It didn't matter what you were doing: cooking dinner, folding laundry-- bathing, for Christ's sake-- Abbey would be there.

That's why you don't register that your daughter is holding your clean, but used nonetheless, pregnancy test. But Steve does, when he pokes his head around the door to check in on the two of you.

"Hey, you almost--oh-- Abbey don't touch that!" He says, all in one panicked breath.

You finally chance a look at what she's holding, immediately understanding Steve's reaction. Without another thought, you quickly snatch it from her innocent hands.

Abbey's still looking up at you inquisitively. She did ask you a question, after all.

"Oh, this? This is-- uhm, it's a, uhm--"

"It's a thermometer!" Steve saves.

"Then why can't I touch it?" She pushes further. You should've known better than to think she would drop it that easily.

"Steve checked my temperature with it a couple of weeks ago, so now it has all my sick germs on it." Both you and Steve make sour faces to really sell it, though you can't see his from where he's perched behind you.

"Hey, Ab," Steve prompts, "I have something really important I need your help with,"

Her ears perk instantly, "Yeah?"

"I need you to go into the kitchen and get some things out to make sandwiches while I talk to your mom, do you think you can do that for me?"

"Uh-huh!" She beams, Steve's request appealing to her newfound craving for independence.

"I don't know," Steve lilts playfully, "You sure you're up for it?"

You're forever in awe at how he manages to make the most mundane tasks feel like an impossible mission; how he turns everything into a game. You'd kill to be a fly on the wall of his classroom all day, content to watch him perfectly in his element.

"Yes! I am!" Abbey giggles as she tries to weasel by Steve where he stands blocking the doorway. He lets her think she overpowered him when his legs finally give way to her freedom from the bathroom.

Steve takes one more glance over his shoulder, "We need to tell her," he says in a hushed sort of tone.

"I know," you pinch the bridge of your nose, "It's just, what if--"

"Nothing's going to happen, sweetheart." He reassures you with two strong arms wrapped around your waist, "The doctor said the ultrasound looked great, and you're not a high-risk pregnancy. You said you had no complications with Abbey, right?"

"Right, but--"

"No 'but's I'm not gonna let anything happen to you-- either of you. You know that." Steve guides your head to nestle in the crook of his neck, enough so that you can't see that he's scared, too.

"She's going to find out eventually," he reminds you.

"You're right," you sigh.

"Per usual." You pinch his side in retaliation, making him yelp.

"Let's have lunch, then we'll tell her?" You ask, lifting you head from the safety of his chest.

"If that's what you want to do, then that's what we'll do.

--

You don't work up the courage to speak until Abbey's halfway through her PB&J, but Steve picks up the slack for you. He's perfect like that.

"Abbey, babe-- there's something Steve and I want to talk to you about," you tell her, trying to keep your tone lighthearted, but your voice still wobbles slightly with nerves.

Both of them turn to face you then, Abbey's mouth full and Steve sending you a look that says You've got it, I'm here.

God, you don't even know where to begin.

"Do you remember-- right before we had that big party where mommy and Steve got married-- when I got sick during dinner time?"

Abbey nods, idly licking jelly off of her tiny fingers; waiting for you to continue.

"Well... I thought it was just because Steve's burgers tasted yucky--" She giggles and Steve lightly kicks your foot under the table, "Really, it was because I have a baby in my belly, and the baby was making me feel sick."

You can practically see the gears turning in her head; she's certainly old enough to understand what it means to be pregnant, but maybe not quite the logistics of it yet.

Both you and Steve wait with bated breaths to see how she'll react. You're bracing for the worst, but all she asks is, "Is the baby still in there now?"

You have to stifle a laugh, not wanting her to feel silly for asking questions, "Yes, it is. That means you're gonna have a little brother or sister,"

She takes another bite of her sandwich, mostly indifferent. You don't know what you were expecting, but this nonchalance was probably the last thing.

Steve decides to take the reins for a moment, hoping to coax a little more of a reaction out of her, "How does that sound?" He asks, shaking her shoulders playfully.

"Good, but-- will we still be able to go to the park?"

Maybe you had been totally overthinking this, "Of course," you tell her, "And the baby can come, too!"

"Does the baby have to come?" She asks, just the slightest bit of whine in her tone, resting her tired head in the propped-up palm of her hand.

"Not always," Steve chimes in, "You'll still get plenty of time with us without the baby, too. We don't want you to worry about that, okay?"

She nods, "Okay," sipping her chocolate milk casually from its straw. "Can we go play on the swings after I'm done?"

"Uhm, yeah, I think we can manage that," Steve smiles at Abbey first but looks to you like 'That's it?'. You only shrug in response.

--

"Did we totally butcher that?" You ask Steve later that night from where you lay waiting for him in your shared bed.

He answers you with his toothbrush hanging haphazardly out of his mouth; making eye contact through the bathroom mirror, "No, honey-- I think kids are just like that sometimes."

You groan, "I feel like a bad mom..."

"Hey," he spits into the sink, wiping his mouth on the nearest hand towel, "None of that, okay? You're a fantastic mom."

Even from across the room, Steve can sense your slurry of racing thoughts. Ones of insecurity and worry for the future of your family-- of your daughter, whom you'd swore would always be your greatest priority.

He makes his way to the edge of the bed where you're curled in on yourself, "It's not just you anymore, love," his hands brush a stray tear you hadn't even realized has fallen.

"What if she feels like-- I don't know, what if she feels like I'm replacing her?"

"Listen to me, I promise you-- Abbey is never going to question whether or not you love her." Steve's hand moves from your face to land gently on your belly, "And neither will she,"

You breathe a teary chuckle, "You seem awfully convinced it's a girl,"

"Yeah, well-- call it father's intuition."

Hearing him refer to himself as a father sends butterflies erupting in your belly, "Thank you, Stevie."

"Hey, I'm serious. Everything's gonna work itself out, alright? Ab just needs a little time to warm up." You nod in agreement, "I'm tellin' ya, once we start getting those cute little baby pajama things-- she's gonna be pumped."

You laugh at his unsuccessful search for the word 'onesie', but you don't correct him. You know he's right, and even if he's not, you're sure now more than ever that there's not a thing in this world you can't conquer together.

taglist - @soulxiez @sadieshairbrush @the-witty-pen-name @ilovetaquitosmmmm @micheledawn1975 @cherryc1nnam0n @paleidiot @adaydreamaway30 @mrsnarnian @negomi123 @twinkling-moonlillie @royalestrellas @jamdoughnutmagician @cali-888 @kolsmikaelson @1deverland @borhapparker @alexa4040 @chiliwhore @weonlysaidgoodbyewithwordss @paddockspookie42 @foxes-n-frogs @j-mlover383 @i-love-gfv @the-fairy-anon

[mrsfudd]

Behind your back- part 2

warnings: fighting, break up 😟

“PAIGE STOP IM NAKED” KK said trying to keep your sister away

“EW DUDE, JUST HURRY UP PRACTICE IS IN 5” Paige yelled.

You held your breath until you heard the door shut. A wave of guilt ran through your whole body. You really loved KK but somehow you felt like you were betraying Paige. Ever since you were little there was nothing you wouldn’t tell her. The more time you spent with KK the more you wondered when that changed.

Your mindlessly packing your bag, overthinking a little too much til KK snaps you out of it.

“Babygirl, you gotta go” KK said trying to rush you in the nicest way possible.

She had your whole existence studied and easily picked up that something was wrong but this wasn’t the time to sit and talk about your feelings.

4:02 pm

Barely surviving your morning classes and trying to avoid Paige all day. You finally got back to your dorm from your last class of the day. You sat on the couch as your roommate started talking to you. You let her ramble and gave her reassuring words every few minutes. You pulled your knees to your chest and started to pick at your nails while you zoning out. Your brain scrambled and you were trapped in your own thoughts until you get a text notification. It was KK.

KK baby 😘: You good mamas? How was your day

You: yes bae, good wbu

KK baby 😘: im good baby, miss u tho can i come thru ?

You: mhm, js knock my roommates here but shes going in her bedroom

If you were being completely honest, you didn’t want KK to come over. Obviously she didn’t do anything, you were just nervous you were going to ruin everything over one mishap. You wanted KKs love and you wanted your sister’s trust. You were seriously conflicted and had created an ultimatum in your head. Terrified of losing either, you kept quiet unsure if that was the right idea or not.

6:35 pm

KKs here and it’s weirdly silent.. until its not

“So I was thinking and I feel like we should tell Paige about us” KK blurts out.

Your eyes shoot open, you here the door open and close. Your roommate was gone and so you decided to speak freely.

“KK what do you mean? You already know how P would react I cant do that to her” You say.

“To her? What about me Y/N? What about how I feel? Its killing me having to be all up in Paiges face and then come here just to stab her back. We need to tell her. KK says.

“KK no, Im not letting you blow up everything just because you feel bad. You wanted me and you knew what that came with and you still chose to be with me. You made your bed now lay in it.” You say watching KKs face slowly scrunch.

“Why are you so scared Y/N? Shes your sister, shes going to support you regardless. Im the one who should be scared. Please baby, I wanna love you out loud.” KK says while grabbing for you hand.

“Get off me KK, you wouldn’t have to live with the guilt forever. I would, I have to see her in school and out of school. I love you KK, I really do but im just not ready. If you cant understand that, then I guess this just wont work out.” You say holding back tears.

“Baby, please wait lets just talk. Paige wont take it as hard as you think she will”. KK pleads.

Theres no more convincing you. You were too conflicted and too scared. KK was not going to blow up your life. You needed to clear your head so you grab your keys.

As you open your bedroom door, Paige is standing right there. It wasn’t your roommate who opened the door.

“Are you fucking serious Y/N” Paige said emotionless.

“Paige I-” You say trying to hold back tears.

“No fucking save it. My teammate? I mean wow, and you know whats crazy I wouldn’t even be mad if you came to me about it like a decent fucking person Y/N. But no you couldn’t, KK just begged to come clean and you wanted her to stab my back even more? What kind of sister are you? Matter fact I don’t even know you” Paige said looking disgusted.

Her words felt like a knife in your chest, what did you do? You had to get out. You grabbed your phone and slides and walked out slamming the door behind you.

You drive all around town sobbing. Not knowing what to do or how to fix this. You just lost the love of your life and the trust your sister. All because you were scared of confrontation. You could of had it all if you just spoke up.

Since you joined Paiges friend group it wasn’t like you were apart of the basketball team. If Paige didn’t want her little sister around that was final. No one would argue well KK would, but not anymore.

You drove around for another hour before you return to your dorm. As expected KK and Paige were gone. Your roommate looked at you with wide eyes, you already knew what she was going to say.

“Bitch, what the fuck was that?” She said munching on some snack.

“Chloe, please. Im really not in the mood” You say looking defeated.

“Nah nah come here, jokes aside come talk to me”. She says.

You sit down next to her and start explaining everything that was going on. Fighting back tears with every sentence and realizing how bad you really messed up.

“Okay well I heard them talking after you left and Paige had asked KK still loved you and she said yea. If i was you I would do anything to be back in their good graces, If its still possible Y/N. I cant believe you kept all this from me.”

you were about to respond to her until you had gotten a notification

“Y/N has been removed from the Basketball girls + the baby Group chat”

You heart dropped, and then even more when you saw that it was KK who removed you.

you knew it was going to take something drastic to get back on her good side… and you think you had an idea.

Sorry ik its short butttt part 3???? if i make part 3 i think itll be the final part. lmkkk love ya 😘

@private-but-not-a-secret @teddygrahamslam @syraxsbigfanfr

[issybee06]

Omg. i love your acc so much. i ADORE ur writing for these thragg fics, they are my LIFEBLOOD through this invincible s4 drought. i need this sm, PLS MAKE MORE!!!! you’re an incredible writer and i hope you have a wonderful day!!! (ps. pls make romantic hcs :)! )

For the good of the empire!

Thragg x reader

Headcanons!

Legs locked around his slutty hips one of us is getting pregnant and my money is on him HAHAHAGAGAGAGSHSAGSEHTREESEHKTF

The hair?! The body?! I'm no better than a man because DAMNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

yes I know he's a bad person but In my world everyone is a pony and they all eat rainbows and poop butterflies lock me away and put me in the fun house I don't care

Thank you everyone for the support🫶🫶🫶

…………………………………………………………………………….

So, we can go two very different ways.

Human Reader orrrrrr Viltrumite Reader

I give you both!

Human reader!

Human reader meets Thragg through Mark, whether it be because she’s a hero or a close friend, he’s the reason they meet.

And you and Mark are great friends, like glued at the hip but then this 6’10 hottest man alive walks in and you’re like “Mark…is your long lost scary space uncle single?”

He’s like, “…my what…?”

You’re like, “never mind…I’ll ask him.”

Flirting with Thragg, if you’re the one making the first moves, is like nails on a chalkboard. He doesn’t get it, won’t understand you want to up in bones. He just kinda…stares? Questions everything until “oh! You wish to procreate, next time just say that.”

If he’s the one making the first moves, but you’re not interested, oh boy. He’s like a cat, I’m telling you, bringing presents he thinks you would like but really…no, not really.

Shows up at your house, carrying the head of someone or something that he killed, “I brought you…a gift.”

When you don’t like it, he’s angry. Confused. Offended.

He goes to Kregg, Lucan…Mark, asking what human women like. Mark tells his(while praying Thragg doesn’t want to kill him) what you like.

Now, he’s bringing you flowers(an evergreen tree), food you liked, jewelry. You were confused at first, but slowly you two warmed up to eachother.

You guys started dating after he got you a pet. That was it for you.

Whether it’s you or him pursuing first, the first time you guys are going at it is the same.

“D-do you have a condom?”

“…what the fuck is a condom?”

“…”

Your first time is veryyyyy soft, he thinks he might break you, until you’re telling him to fuck you like he means it then he’s smirking and you’re in for a treat.

You gotta, no matter what, explain a lot of earths culture to him.

What to say, how to react(not trying to kill someone for cutting in line at coffee), what to wear because wearing that Viltrumite suit in public was a no no.

You guys go out to eat a lot, you got your arms wrapped around his meaty bicep while he stands there stiffly. You drag him places, he follows reluctantly, but he enjoys you. He flys you to different countries, not because he wants to go, but because he loveessss seeing your eyes light up as he presents a new place to you.

He’s rough around the edges, but he’s good at making you blush and smile.

Superrrrrr bad at dating a first, but once he gets the idea he’s fantastic. It’s his new mission, to make you happy, and Thragg always completes his missions.

If you guys do end up continuing your relationship, he moves in with you. You veto moving to the moon with him as soon as he asked, having sex up there though…👀

He’s like a house husband, he can’t really get a job(he refused actually, saying he was above it) so he stays in your apartment just hanging out.

You guys never really get married…? He thinks you’ve been married since the first time you guys had sex, but like, you don’t? You aren’t his wife you’re his girlfriend, but to him you’re his mate. You’ve gotta explain that to him too.

If and when you guys have kids(he’s gonna be begging you know this) he now has something to do at home. He asked for it, now he’s gotta watch the baby. He never expected to have to raise the kids he begged for, he thought you would, but you are too head strong and said, “nope, you asked for this thing so now you’ve gotta watch it.”

He enjoys you, his little head strong human wife, more so than he actually thought he would. You make him smile, no ones ever been able to do that. You bring enjoyment to his life, nothing bores him. 5000+ years of living and you, his little human, is the highlight of it.

Viltrumite reader!

Very different relationship than human reader.

You two have known each other for a long time, gone on a few missions together and now he’s at that age where he needs a mate.

Now now, not just any mate. You.

You’re the best choice for him, he thinks, you’re strong and capable and you’d be his perfect little mate. He’s hard at the idea that you can easily kick his ass, knowing that all the children you might have would be extremely powerful.

He likes that. Oh, he likes that a lot…

He doesn’t play around it, just goes up to you and basically says, “hey, you and I are gonna be mated.”

And you’re like, “…okay?”

He might do the cat thing with you, giving you dead things as gifts, valuables from his conquests, and you respond with a smile.

You like him like that, covered in blood so fresh that he probably came straight from the battlefield to your house. Makes you feel wanted by him, you are wanted by him.

I’m thinking he’s not the Grand Regent yet, he’s young and popular and pretty and so very proud to have you as his pretty scary mate. Total power couple.

When he becomes Grand Regent, he’s offered move wives and he’s offended.

“I have a mate.”

“M-my lord, you should have a multitude of women at your dispos—“

“I have a mate.”

If he didn’t want you he wouldn’t have chosen you, he would have taken the other women, but he wants you.

He has forever to spend with you, he wanted that and now he has that.

Yes I love him, now look at young Thragg with his fluffy hair.

Ugh, creaming

[deepspacedarling]

HIYAA, so i saw your post abt getting into an argument with the LAD boys and was wondering if you could maybe do an extended version of everything but it ends in fluff? Obviously you don’t do all the boys, you can choose who you want to write it for. Thats alll BYYEEE

Making Up with the LADS Boys

Warning: None

AN: I was hoping someone would ask for this. Angst always makes me sad and if no one asked for this I was going to have to take matters into my own hands and write you guys making up.

Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb

Pt 1. How the LADS Boys Argue with You

Xavier

He still doesn't understand why you're upset with him. He still thinks he's right. But he acknowledges that he upset you and he wants to fix that. He loves you so much and you mean the world to him.

He might go to Jeremiah and ask for a second opinion to see if he's actually in the wrong. Whether he was or wasn't, he'll ask how he can make you feel better and resolve the issue.

He doesn't like going to bed angry with you. He'll spend the whole night figuring this out with you if he has to. Once the matter is resolved and you're both snuggled up close again together, he feels like everything is finally okay again.

Zayne

You guys don't go more than a day after the argument without him trying to come to you and resolve the issue. He doesn't like being upset with you and he knows that you feel the same. You're both calm rational adults. You can figure this out together.

Now that he's had a moment to calm down, he thinks over and over again about what he needs to say to you. He's got a whole script in his head to tell you how sorry he is and get his initial thoughts from the fight across without upsetting you. That all kind of goes out the window when you two start talking and he starts to flounder.

He's not the best with his words. He'll stumble during the conversation but he's earnest in his want to find a compromise with you. You two will get past this, he'll make sure of it.

Rafayel

Poor Thomas has to listen to him complain about your argument for HOURS. When Thomas finally tells him to go fix it, he grumbles and goes home. He'll come slinking into the house and you'll both eye each other warily to see if one of you is going to start arguing again before eventually he sighs and sits down. He's not getting up until this is fixed or you hurt his feeling again.

He'll apologize for hurting your feelings. He always tends to go for the jugular when he's upset and he knows that it hurts you when he acts like that. He didn't mean what he said but he knows it hurt you anyway so he's sorry.

He'll make sure repeatedly that you're not still upset with him after you both find a compromise. He doesn't want you to leave him so he'll do what he must to keep you even if that means admitting he was wrong.

Sylus

Initially, he'll try to buy your happiness back. Of course you'll stop being mad if he gets you that new car you wanted or that diamond necklace you were looking at. But then he realizes it isn't working and he has to shift gears.

He'll sit you down and listen to what you have to say. There's a long moment afterwards of him just thinking. He's not really the type of give in unless he's getting something out of it. He'll carefully maneuver the conversation so that you can find a happy medium. He's not willing to start a fight again but he's not willing to just give in either.

Once it's all said and done, he's happy with the result. He wants you to stay with him so he'll play nice even if it means he doesn't 100% get what he wants. What you want is important to to keep your relationship healthy.

Caleb

He'll do anything to get you to stop being angry with him. You don't understand. His brain is already conjuring up ideas of you leaving him. Of him coming home and your things are gone and he never sees you again.

He's much more receptive to your point of view once he's scared himself enough. He's still not 100% on board with your side of the argument but he's willing to compromise if it means you stay with him.

Once you've smiled at him and found a happy medium, he can finally breath again. You're going to stay with him. He's going to be okay. He needs to make sure that this argument never happens again. He'll do what he has to to ensure it doesn't.

Requests are Open!

[differenteagletragedy]

The one where Simon Riley gets a roommate and the roommate is you and eventually you fall in love etc.

There's a bar in Simon's neighborhood where he goes sometimes when things get a little too loud in his head. A few nights a week or so, when he's home, he finds himself there, sitting at a corner stool at the bar and nursing a whiskey. He doesn't like being around people, not really, but he likes this better than he likes being alone with his thoughts.

That's why he started going anyway, a long time ago. Now, he mostly goes for you.

A pretty little bartender with a past -- one you haven't told him about, but he can smell it on you. It's in the way your eyes dart to the door every time it opens, and in the way the tension builds in your body when some drunk gets a little too loud. He'd noticed how gorgeous you were the first day, but now the pull is in the mystery.

Where did you come from? What happened to you? And why do you smile at him like he's not the most dangerous man you'd ever met?

He doesn't understand it, but you're always kind to him. You always greet him warmly, pour his favorite whiskey with a heavy hand without him asking. Sometimes, when he comes in on a slow night, you'll lean over the bar to talk to him about nothing until someone pulls you away. You laugh at his jokes.

You're too pretty for him, the scarred, hulking monster of a man that he is. And you're entirely too sweet. You deserve someone better, younger, more stable, more whole. You deserve more than whatever it is that you'd gotten before, and a hell of a lot better than him.

But one night when he comes in and sees you looking quietly frantic, eyes red-rimmed and anxious as you flit about the bar, that knowledge goes out the window.

"What's wrong?" he asks quietly, studying the slight shake of your hand as you pour his drink.

"Nothing," you answer automatically.

"Bullshit."

You sigh, and after a little more prodding, you tell him: the owners of the bar are selling the building to developers, who are going to tear the place down, so soon, you'll be out of a job. But worse, you rent the small little attic apartment over the bar, so you'll be out of a home as well.

Simon can see it in your eyes, knowing the look all too well: you feel hopeless.

"I've got a room," he says.

And it's a stupid thing to say, because he has no business offering you something like that. He doesn't know you, not really, and you don't know him, and the room isn't a guest room so much as it is an empty space in his house that he's never had any reason to fill.

What can he really offer you? Not just with the room, but at all? Whatever it is, he knows it would never be enough.

But you give him the tiniest of smiles, and he sees something flicker in your eyes, and it doesn't matter how ridiculous the idea is. If you want it, it's yours. If he has it, you can take it, and he'll give it gladly.

"Really?" you ask. "I don't have a lot of money or anything."

"Don't need it."

"I haven't had a chance to look for a new job yet, but I'm gonna start tonight," you assure him. "So hopefully I can find something right away and --"

"Don't worry about it, love," he interrupts. "Not offering because I need the money. Room is yours if you want it."

He speaks gruffly, as he always does, and he hopes that you won't ask too many questions, because truthfully, he won't be able to answer them, not in any way that makes sense. He doesn't want to lie to you, but how could he say that the thought of you in his space was enough to stir something in him that he’d long thought dead?

Thankfully, you don’t ask. Instead, you lean across the bar and wrap your arms around his neck. It’s an awkward hug, but it means something, and before you pull away he’s already making a mental note of everything he’ll need for the spare room.

Your room.

“I can’t thank you enough, Simon, really,” you tell him, smiling a little easier now. “I’ll get another job soon anyway, ok? And I can clean and cook and --"

"Start by getting me another whiskey, yeah?"

Your smile turns a bit sheepish, but you nod and turn to get the bottle, and he takes a breath.

This is a bad idea. There's no way it isn't. It's going to go poorly, one way or another, he's going to be too much or not enough, and one day you'll leave and his house will feel even emptier than it already does.

But Simon is no stranger to bad ideas. And this one, at least, should prove to be a little bit of fun along the way.

[yokumirumerafan]

Can i request the reader is the phantom hashira and they have a tendency to hallucinate and can see the ghosts of the other hashira's dead relatives?

🔥 Kyojuro Rengoku

He’s startled at first—hearing you speak to empty space, naming people long gone. But when you softly tell him you saw his mother smiling at him after a battle, he goes still. So still. “…She was proud of me?” You nod. “Very much.” He doesn’t question you again. He brings you your favorite tea after missions and sits beside you in peaceful silence. You remind him of warmth. Of home. Of closure.

🩸 Giyuu Tomioka

He doesn’t speak much either, so your quiet muttering to ghosts never bothers him. When you once mistake him for a ghost and gently touch his arm and whisper “You’re free now,” he flinches—like the words cut too close. Still… Later, he asks quietly, “Do you see Sabito?” You nod. Giyuu doesn’t ask what Sabito says, just smiles faintly. Like it hurts. But also… helps.

🐍 Obanai Iguro

Very wary of you at first. You’re soft-spoken, haunted, and your eyes always look like they’re seeing something just beyond. He hates how much that reminds him of himself. But when you tell him you see his cousin—the one who helped him escape before she died—he stiffens. “She cries every time she sees you,” you whisper. “But she’s glad you lived.” He walks away. But the next day, he leaves a scarf on your desk. Handmade. Matching his own.

🌸 Mitsuri Kanroji

Terrified for you at first—"Oh noooo! Y/N-chan is seeing ghosts?! That’s so scary!!” But then she notices you treat the dead with such gentleness. Like old friends. When you hold her hand one day and say “Your grandmother watches you cook and says you’re getting better at the soup,” she bursts into tears. Loves you like family after that. Holds your face and says, “Even if you’re a little haunted, you’re never alone, okay?!”

🌊 Muichiro Tokito

Thinks you’re just talking to the wind at first. But then you say his brother’s name. “Yuichiro.” And suddenly you have his full attention. You speak in soft riddles, sometimes seeming more ghost than person, but you always tell the truth. He starts sitting near you when he can’t sleep. Not speaking. Just existing. “…He says you’re doing a good job,” you say one night. Muichiro blinks slowly. “…Thank you.”

🦋 Shinobu Kocho

A scientist. A rational thinker. But also a girl who lives in a house full of grief. You once pause in the Butterfly Mansion hallway, eyes wide. “…Kanae’s here,” you whisper. “She says you should rest more. And laugh again.” Shinobu freezes. And then… she smiles. Just a little. “You’re strange. But I think I like you.”

🐗 Sanemi Shinazugawa

He thinks you're off your rocker. Tries to ignore your muttering. But one day you grab his wrist and whisper, “Your mom doesn't blame you.” He nearly breaks. Pushes you away and says, “Don’t say that sh*t.” But you see him staring at the sky more after that. He never admits it, but… he starts standing between you and demons more often. You matter now. You’re family.

🎋 Gyomei Himejima

He feels your pain like a mirror to his own. He doesn’t need to see your ghosts—he feels them. When you tremble, he gently clasps his prayer beads and chants for your peace. You speak once about the children that cling to him. He bows his head. “Thank you… for remembering them.” You two meditate together often. In silence. In sorrow. In deep understanding.

💎 Tengen Uzui

At first: “How flamboyantly creepy of you.”

Finds out you see his fallen comrades—he shuts up real fast.

Tries to play it cool, but it shakes him deep.

Lowkey protective after that.

Never mocks the hallucinations, even jokes aside.

Brings you snacks when the spirits overwhelm you.

“You’re flashy in your own haunting way.”

Tells his wives, and now you’re unofficial family.

Might start asking you for closure he never got.

[writeriguess]

Would you mind doing a Shinsou x Reader where reader is his gf and it’s like their second year at UA and reader had been stressing over the last few days about a lot of different things and one day she’s excessively sweating and having chest pains. All of her friends are questioning what’s wrong , even her bf Shinsou who normally lets her have her privacy and doesn’t want to intrude on her business. But by the end of the day she’s in her room having a full blown anxiety attack after walking in on it, Shinsou is trying to help her through it and she tells him “anxiety is just a made up thing so that doctors can put you on medication and make more money” while having the attack. And she says this because that’s what her parents raised her to believe like when she would get anxiety as a child her parents would call her dramatic. When she tells him he’s just so pissed at her parents and he comforts her.

Taught to Ignore the Cracks

The past few days had been nothing short of overwhelming. Classes, training, exams—everything seemed to pile onto you at once. Sleep had been scarce, food had been an afterthought, and your mind refused to quiet down, buzzing with an endless loop of to-do lists and worst-case scenarios. You hadn’t told anyone, though. What was the point? Everyone was stressed. Why should you be any different?

But today felt different. Off.

Your body was betraying you in ways you didn’t understand. Your palms were clammy, and no matter how much you wiped them against your uniform, the sweat just kept coming. Your head was light, your chest tight, and every breath you took felt like it wasn’t enough. You had done your best to push through it, pretending everything was fine, but the people closest to you weren’t so easily fooled.

“Are you okay? You’re sweating a lot,” Uraraka asked during lunch, tilting her head as she watched you push your food around your plate.

“Yeah,” you said quickly. Too quickly. “Just hot in here, y’know?”

“Hot? It’s literally perfect weather today,” Kaminari pointed out, frowning.

Shinsou, who had been sitting beside you, remained silent. He was watching you, that much you knew, but he didn’t push. He never did. That was one of the things you loved about him—he gave you space when you needed it.

But you could feel his eyes on you throughout the rest of the day. Every time you winced slightly when your chest felt too tight, every time you wiped your hands on your uniform, every time you took a deep breath like you were trying to calm yourself down. He saw it all.

By the time classes were over, you could barely focus. Your head was spinning, your heart was racing, and it felt like the world was closing in on you.

And then you made the mistake of heading back to your dorm room alone.

As soon as the door shut behind you, it was like a dam broke. Your breathing turned shallow, your hands shook violently, and suddenly, you weren’t just sweating—you were drenched in fear. Your chest felt like it was caving in, your throat was closing, and your mind was screaming at you to calm down, but you couldn’t.

This was fine. This was nothing. You weren’t dying. You couldn’t be.

And yet, you felt like you were.

Then the door opened.

Shinsou stood there, eyes widening as he took in the sight of you—curled up on your bed, gasping for breath, clutching at your chest like you could somehow hold yourself together if you just pressed hard enough.

“Hey—hey, what’s going on?” His voice was firm but gentle as he rushed to your side.

You shook your head frantically. “I—I don’t know—”

He crouched in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Breathe with me,” he instructed, inhaling deeply. “In for four, out for four. Come on.”

You tried. You really did. But your body refused to cooperate.

Shinsou cursed under his breath. “Alright, okay, that’s fine—just focus on my voice, okay? You’re safe. You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

Tears stung your eyes, and before you knew it, words were tumbling out of your mouth between ragged gasps. “I—It’s just—It’s just anxiety, right? It’s not real. It’s just something doctors made up so they can put people on meds and make more money—”

Shinsou froze.

Your voice wavered as you continued, “It’s not real—it’s not real, it’s just me being dramatic, that’s what my parents always said, so I just have to—I just have to ignore it, I—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice was sharp, and when you looked at him, his jaw was clenched, his fists tight. Not at you—never at you—but at the people who had put this idea in your head in the first place.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm for you. “Listen to me. Anxiety is real. What you’re feeling is real. Your body isn’t making this up, and you sure as hell aren’t being dramatic.”

Tears spilled over as you shook your head weakly. “But my parents—”

“They’re wrong,” he interrupted, his grip tightening on your shoulders. “I don’t care what they said. I don’t care what they made you believe. You are not making this up. You are not weak for feeling like this. And you sure as hell don’t have to deal with it alone.”

Something about his voice—about the absolute certainty in it—made you break. The sob you had been holding in finally escaped, and the moment it did, Shinsou pulled you into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, running a hand up and down your back. “I got you.”

You clung to him, gasping into his shoulder as the panic slowly, slowly started to fade. His presence, his warmth, his voice—it all grounded you in a way nothing else could.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be.” His fingers carded through your hair. “Never be.”

Minutes passed before your breathing finally evened out, your body no longer trembling. Even then, he didn’t let go.

“You don’t have to believe me right away,” he said quietly. “But I’m gonna keep telling you the truth until you do.”

You swallowed hard, nodding against his shoulder. Maybe, just maybe, he was right.

[twstwizard]

can i request an octavinelle version of the ticklish prefect thing :p

Tickle-Me-Prefect PT.4

PT.3 < Heartslaybul

Type: Headcanons, SFW, Fluff, Romantic

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto; Jade Leech; Floyd Leech; GN!Reader

AN: Man, lots of ticklish people here, huh?

AN: Really struggled with Tweels parts, since keeping them in character and in a healthy relationship are hard things to juggle :'D

Azul Ashengrotto

-Azul prides himself on being a business man, a person with perfect poker face and ability to stay cool headed, it seems only fitting that his partner is rather stoic too, don't you think? In all seriousness at first Ashengrotto was a tad bit insecure about your lack of expressions, yet after some time the man reminded himself nothing is crestal clear when it comes to people, just like contracts everyone has their nuances. Small acts of devotion is all he needed in the end.

- It's no secret that Azul appreciates you, but what does a shady businessman appreciate even more? Something physical - the man lives for your touch. While not overly big on generous PDA, everything is on the table when the two of you are alone. Cuddles are of particular favor for him, being held and slightly weighted down is heavily to him, adds to the senes of security if you will. Accidentally tickling his partner was bound to happen at some point, no? Azul simply didn't expect for his love to snort and giggle like a hyena.

- Ashengrotto is somewhat relieved that the two of you share a weakness, as wierd as it may sound. Worry not, your secret is safe with him. While he's a conniving capitalist, he does have a heart, it just happens to be held by you. Your boyfriend is now a bit more careful about public displays, no longer keeping his hand on your lower back, his hugs are even more feathery touch, yet in private nothing changed.

- Being vulnerable for Azul is priceless and yet you so freely show him the things that others would deem embarrassing. Your openness to him makes the act of being one true self so much sweeter and more special beyond any means, the young man wishes to keep those rare smiles and laughs only to himself. Perhaps if he was an old version of himself, Ashengrotto would make a contract for such purposes. He can be soft and squishy with you in turn, he will be in fact, your small weaknesses that you share push him closer with you far more then you can imagine. Trueselves of people are embarrassing, yet with you it's freeing.

Jade Leech

- Jade is... Well, Jade. While the young man has a calm expression plastered all over his face 24/7, everyone knows that he is in fact, dangerous. Be it fate or perhaps a simple coincidence, his significant other is similar, only slightly different. Jade finds it amusing in a way, no matter what your face remains the same, while most may find it annoying, yours truly thinks it fascinating. All the small shifts that others wouldn't notice, a muscle twitch here and there. Small things. And Jade sees them all.

- Jade is a true gentleman and his affection is of similar caliber- reverent in it's feathery lightness, sometimes too light, causing goosebumps to rise all over your skin. Your boyfriend is as much of a menace to society as his brother, just more subtle, to the point where he couldn't be accused of anything. Don't blame him for trying to tickle your emotions out of you. In all honesty, Leech had no idea such silly thing would work, but oh Sevens is he delighted.

- Lucky for you, or not, your dearest is respectful of your secrets and weaknesses, or at the very least knows how blackmail works. Jade doesn't necessarily hold such thing over you, though he does find it amusing when his fingers accidentally graze your skin just the right way for you to snort or giggle. What? His hands must've been slippery... Worry not however, Leech knows not to abuse such power too much, the man understands that if he does so too often the joy of seeing you smile wouldn't be as delicious.

- Jade is a character, he and you are aware of that. Many things were unspoken when you entered into a relationship with him, mainly because you didn't need to know some things about him. When the merman heard your laughter, felt your body shake with it, he thought how cruel were you for hiding such a thing from him. Yet that would make him a hypocrite, no? He should also be able to turn his back to you, be able to tell you all those small things about himself - perhaps you'll find them as delightful as he finds your smile to be.

Floyd Leech

- Floyd is a wild card. While he is the more 'sane' of the twins, the young man is still unpredictable and a menace to society, quite literally. You're like an anchor in a way, always calm, always stoic, like a... An anchor amids ocean for the lack of a better term. And Floyd loves his anchor. He can't exactly pin point what draws him in, your bland expression should repulse him and yet there's just enough unhingieness for him to keep coming back to you bo matter what.

- Floyd loves to squeeze people, you, his lovely shrimpy, are not an exception, in fact you're Floyd's favorite to squeeze. Riddle is praying for you and to you. It was bound to happen sooner or later that his affectionate attacks ended up in you giggling and snorting, trying to breathe through how much it tickles. Hope you're prepared for tortures beyond human, but not mer kind.

- Leech is merciless when it comes to things he loves, can't exactly blame him for loving your laugh, can you? Floyd squeeze and tickles you each time he sees you or when his mood drops for whatever reason. You're his little pickmeup, your lovely laughter does wonders to his inner moray, especially when he gets to feel how your chest heaves, how you whizz, your lungs contract as you try to breathe through his affection. He's still fascinated with those organs. Okay, now tickle and squeeze him back! This seems fun...

- The young man isn't necessarily possessive, no, he doesn't mind if others hear your lovely voice begging him to stop or laughter, by all means let all hear how he makes his Shrimpy feel! But that doesn't mean that he likes to share however... If anyone else tickles you, even by accident, it's on sight. Leech is the only one that is allowed to make you shake with laughter, stealing your breath away. It's a connection to him, sign of great trust that you allow him to do so, that you don't frown at him, allow Floyd to feel you. He may not always explain things or be good and gentle with his words, but the young man's actions are his main language and whenever he makes you laugh with it, he truly feels love like no other.

[starkeaton]

k ive got a huge list going so a reblog fits better than a reply, bear with me

OMORI

Sunny: Page of Hope, hes definitely a page considering his big adventurous dreams and fear of actually trying to live up to them. i say hope with mid confidence because he spends a lot more time thinking of how things could be perfect than he does actually enacting anything

Kel: Heir of Breath, a simple guy with a simple philosophy, believes in himself and pushes others to change and keep moving forward.

Mari: Seer of Space, the guide of calm and peaceful existence, her emotional advice helps bring Sunny back to a state of peaceful neutrality.

Hero: Knight of Life, always working hard to be what others need of him, trying to provide and make everyone else happy, keeping up the positivity no matter what.

Aubrey: Sylph of Heart? wants others to be better, but she's a bit pushy and bossy. gets really mad at others for not understanding her feelings and caring for her when she needed it. she is the emotional heart of the group at least in the dream world

Basil: Rogue of Doom, well even before The Incident he is always thinking about even the good times in terms of loss, "I always took pictures of what I was afraid to lose." he tries his hardest to make everything ok, to take suffering away for sunny

My Little Pony

Twilight Sparkle: Mage of Mind, she's obsessed with gaining knowledge for herself and navigating situations rationally and logically. the whole "Princess of Friendship" thing feels like it's pushing her into inversion (Heiress of Heart), outside her comfort zone, if you think classpects are primarily meant to challenge then you could go with that as her title

Applejack: Maid of Blood, she lives by the ideals of responsibility and family bonds, and is always working hard to uphold them.

Pinkie Pie: Sylph of Life, she's always partying and working on ways to make others happy as much as possible, increasing happiness and struggling hard when someone doesn't want her help or when she can't keep the good times rolling.

Rainbow Dash: Thief of Breath, fairly obvious in her competitive pride and lax attitude believing everythings gonna be okay, averse to responsibility despite being the actual element of loyalty. Like more often than not, RD episodes will have her struggling with loyalty instead of it being her default.

Rarity: Sylph of Space because she is literally Kanaya. No but seriously, the constant working on things for others and appreciation for aesthetics, and more broadly the vision she has for improving the world around her, is why i think this.

Fluttershy: Rogue of... Hope? She has so much focus on "kindness" which is very hard for me to actually pin to an aspect. She totally minimizes herself for others and helps get them what they want, "taking" comfort for them in a troubling world, which is why i think she's a Rogue, but... after her episode learning to be more assertive, going against her nature, she seems to invert on a dime whenever it's necessary, displaying a powerful Rage. Is that an inversion or just her hidden default? To me it reads as the former, but nothing's really made me sure of that.

Starlight Glimmer: Scribe of Heart, sorry you're gonna have to read dewdrop's classpect brochure if you wanna understand this one. But basically Heart is her tool of judging good and evil, her argumentative attitude she tries to stuff down, conquering and bending emotion/unique personality to her will

Doki Doki Literature Club

I made a post about this one

Evangelion

Shinji Ikari: Page of Rage, same desire to be strong and important and loved, same inability to get there. Rage is harsh reality which Shinji is definitely hesitant to confront, but his "righteous" anger definitely drives him at his core, particularly in a lot of his worst moments.

Asuka Langley Soryu: Thief of Time, competitive pride and stealing the spotlight, you may think Light but i don't think she has the tendency toward narrativization, connecting ideas together, fortune, all that Lighty stuff. No, i think Asuka cares more about action and conflict, the stuff that makes up Time.

Rei Ayanami: Knight of Heart? She does her job, protects others, spends a LOT of time introspecting and developing more emotion, reflecting on the soul and her own humanity, then decides to give all the power to someone else instead. Could be a Maid, considering the connotations of serving ones aspect, propagating and serving as a tool to bring it into existence. I'm not completely sure on this one

Kaworu: Seer of Space, he attaches to Shinji and tries to gently guide him to appreciating existence and the universe as it is. I'm definitely more sure of the Space part here than with Mari

Mari Makinami Illustrious: Witch of Breath, she is the chaos element, living positively and freely, unencumbered by anyone's expectations and worries, not even in combat does she ever drop the carefree attitude. Witch because she's focused on personal fun and making change as she sees fit.

Some other random characters

Kirby: Heir of Space, once i started understanding the Space aspect as existence/inaction/peace i started seeing it all over the Kirby series. Nobody ever dies, everyone just chills out and sleeps in Dreamland, Kirby is the face of this because he is the most chilled out dude ever, until some villain shows up and he has to get serious. I say Heir because, while Kirby hasn't said much, he seems to me like a simple guy who just fixes situations for others when necessary.

Prince Zuko: Prince of Blood, he's got the prince thing of strong reaction to perceived injustices, which uhh doesnt go great for him. He destroys a lot in the name of reclaiming his honor and connection to his family, his responsibility, but ultimately realizes he has to destroy that itself and find his own meaning of Blood.

Davey Stone: Bard of Hope, yeah the guy from Eight Crazy Nights, he wants to believe in hope and hanukkah holiday spirit and stuff like that but when his is ruined he turns to destruction of hope and ruining everyone elses good times, letting people think of him as a nasty bastard because he doesnt care anymore. By the way dont watch this movie it sucks ass

Some extra hunches but not stuff i have strong arguments for

Jotaro Kujoh: Knight of Time?

Josuke Higashikata: Knight of Heart

Dio Brando: Thief of Time

Johnny Joestar: Page of Light

Gyro Zeppeli: Mage of Life

Edward Elric: Mage of Rage

Benry: Bard of Rage? Void? Light?? idk i have to rewatch

Gnome Chompsky (HLVRAI): Bard of Time

Sans: Bard of Doom

Robo-Ky: Prince of Void

Ellen Ripley: Knight of Mind?

Sonic the Hedgehog: Heir of Breath

Tails the Fox: Page/Mage? of Light

Knuckles the Echidna: Knight of Blood

Shadow the Hedgehog: Prince of Time

Silver the Hedgehog: Knight of Hope

Amy Rose: Maid of Heart

Eggman: Lord of Time? Mind?

Captain Lazerhawk: Prince of Hope (i actually am absolutely certain about this one but i dont have a paragraph to type about it cause i dont remember all the story details. just believe me its obvious if youre looking)

and btw anyone reading, please feel free to argue with me on these if you disagree on any of them, i enjoy discussion and hearing others opinions

honestly anyone whos reading this just lay down some classpects you've assigned to characters in fiction that you're especially passionate/confident about! explanations are appreciated but not required 👍