#i'm the lucky one because it hit me in 5 hours

[palimundo]

I'm never eating calamari again

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Three (of four)

masterpost

“Why would I ever need help from Victor?” Danny scrunched up his brow and puzzled aloud after his passenger got out. He didn't mean to be rude but he was genuinely confused. Vic seemed nice enough, but he was kinda delicate, wasn't he? He was scared of Batman. What for? He was just some guy who was so risk-averse that he wore a motorcycle helmet out in public. He probably held the world's record for diagnosed anxiety disorders or something. 

‘I’m lucky he's so reactive,’ Danny chided himself not to be ungrateful. ‘If he wasn't, like, hyper-vigilant I might have had to talk to Batman. Horrific.’

He shuddered at the thought. He had planned to work a little more, but Danny decided to go back home and rest for a bit. His nerves were a little shot after the excitement of the morning. 

Oh, right. He hadn't checked what his tip was yet. Danny unfolded the bills and his eyes bugged out. “This is fifty dollars,” he said incredulously. “He paid me fifty dollars to take him like 10 blocks, with a 50 block detour.” 

Was Victor, like, okay? Danny cast a dubious look back in his rearview mirror and caught the barest glance of Victor's ridiculously jacked form disappearing into one of the murder warehouses. What a guy. Why'd he do-

“He was hitting on me?” Danny's voice reached a whistle pitch. Ah! Ah!!! Holy shit. What the hell? His face burnt red and he floored it back to his apartment complex, trying to get his heart rate under control. 

It was so obvious in retrospect! The weird awkward pauses in conversation! The huge tips! Asking for his number! 

Danny pulled to a stop at a yellow light rather than run it explicitly so that he could bang his head against the steering wheel. 

“I don't even know if he's hot,” Danny wailed. Instantly he knew it was a lie. He didn't know what Victor’s face looked like. He didn't remember what the photo had looked like anymore and the information was long gone. But he knew that Victor was tall, fit as fuck, and had really nice hands. 

Danny bit his lip and howled sadly. It helped, a little. He stole a glance at the receipt with Victor's phone number on it. He couldn't help but memorize the number. 

“I'm not going to call,” Danny told himself. Even if it was flattering. Victor might be a sketchy guy! Only sketchy people were out at the hours Danny worked. Danny couldn't afford association with anyone like that because he needed the authorities to never ever look at him. 

Also, and probably more importantly: you can't go to medical school if you have any kind of criminal record. If Danny was going to be Doctor Fenton the fourth and be able to provide his and Ellie's medical care, he needed to be a model citizen. He couldn’t trust that Vic would keep him out of whatever weird shit he was involved in.

Well. It wasn't like he was complicit in anything. Danny parked his beloved shitty car in the garage and took the stairs up to his apartment. He opened the door, saw Batman in his kitchen, and closed the door.

“Fuck.” 

Danny turned intangible and dropped like a rock through the floors. He was back in the driver's seat in less than 5 seconds. He turned it on and called Victor with one hand, because he'd just gotten the guy's number and he didn't exactly know a lot of Gothamites. “Hey, what do I do if Batman is in my apartment?” He said as soon as it connected. He turned the car on and peeled out onto the street.

“Wha- move, I guess. Is he there for fucking real?” Victor's electronic voice somehow managed to come across incredulous. “You probably shouldn't go back there. You're in your car?” A horn honked in the background. “You're faster,” Victor said. His confidence gave Danny a little. “I'll send you my gps point. Come to me and we can strategize how to get him off your tail.”

Danny swallowed hard. “Okay,” he said, and violently repressed the part of him asking why this nervous ass Gothamite would know any better than he did. At least Victor was a local. His phone pinged and he opened up the address. “Got it.”

“See you soon.” Victor hung up. 

Danny burnt rubber out of there, heart all the way up in his throat. Why was Batman after him? What did he know? He gasped for air, feeling like he was choking. He needed to be normal. He needed to- to get his degree and get his career and never ever have a whole fucking militaristic brancho of the government after him. He was one guy. When he was 14 he'd thought it was a funny game and the GIW were a bunch of chumps. But they were a bunch of chumps with money, weapons, and numbers. He couldn't afford to fuck with them. The fact that his parents gritted their teeth through associating with the GIW was the only thing that kept suspicion off of Danny.

He cycled through a panic attack and then into anger. What the hell, dude? Danny got that Batman had a bee up his ass about metahumans “in his city” (like he fucking owned it??) but Danny wasn't causing crime or fighting it. He was going to classes and trying to survive. Batman had no right to get involved in his business. 

He was steaming mad by the time he pulled up to where Victor was waiting for him. Victor hauled open an old style garage door and ushered him in quickly. Danny parked inside and sighed over the steering wheel. It took a few moments to center himself and then he got out. “Hey.” He lifted a hand in greeting and then shoved it in his pocket, feeling unimaginably weary. It wasn't even 5 am, jeeze. What was his life? “Thanks for answering.” He cleared his throat and bumped his butt against the hood of his car. “Helluva morning,” he complained dryly.

“It's no problem.” Victor seemed a little stiff and uncomfortable, standing in the middle of the other parking space. Either that or he was posing. “It's not your fault.”

Danny let out a snort. “It's not, but what does that matter?” He shrugged. And then he realized- “Wait, do you know what I am- scratch that.” He made a hand gesture to wave that away. Victor had known what Amity Park was offhand and he'd had a chance to see Danny phase the car through solid matter. “I guess what matters more is why Batman is on my ass. D’you think he knows?” 

Victor looked at him for a long time. “No…” 

“No, what?” Danny narrowed his eyes up at the taller man. 

“I don't think Batman knows that you're…” Victor made a gesture at Danny that explained nothing. “Whatever you are. I think he wants to ask you what you know about me.”

Danny stared blankly at him. “About you,” he echoed. He gave Victor a dubious look. “Why would he care about you?” 

Victor lifted a gloved finger and pointed at his helmet as if that was supposed to mean something. Danny tilted his head to the side like a bird and raised one eyebrow. “Because I'm the Red Hood?” Victor said dubiously. “You know that, right?” 

“You're Victor,” Danny said. He furrowed his brows. “Is - is The Red Hood like, your drag persona or something? Cool for you but it's not really relevant -” 

Victor tore off the helmet to reveal a face that was a lot younger than Danny had anticipated. “It's not a drag persona,” he snapped. “It's- I'm the Red goddamn Hood! You have to have seen me on the news!” 

Danny mutely shook his head. He thought about saying that he didn’t watch the news, but he sort of felt bad for the guy. It was probably safer not to comment.

“It's been non-stop,” Victor said, and Danny could really tell how incredulous he felt without that goofy voice filter effect removing the pout from his voice. “I dropped 13 human heads off at the police station yesterday. Come on!” 

He blinked. 

Wait.

One.

Second.

“You had me take you to the police with contraband?” Danny roared, incandescent with fury. 

“Uh.” Victor looked a little shifty now, even with that dweeb ass mask covering from his eyebrows to his cheekbones. “Yeah, I guess-”

“I'm going to go to medical school!” Danny roared, and suplexed the bastard. Victor went down with a howl and a valiant attempt to dig out Danny's eye with his bent index and middle fingers. Danny went selectively intangible and rolled them both over to start slapping Victor on his stupid face. “I-” slap “can't” slap “have” slap “a criminal record!” He leaned so far forward that his lips were nearly touching Victor's. “Capiche?” Danny jabbed a finger into Victor's stupidly ripped chest. 

“Um.” 

“Capiche? Understand? Do you get my meaning?” Danny howled. “I am an illegal entity! My paperwork is suspect!” He dug his knees a little harder into Victor's sides, struggling to control his strength. 

“Hey man, me too,” said Victor. He seemed mildly surprised by this commonality. “That's why I can't get a driver's license.” He put his hands up by his head. The movement made his incredible biceps sort of…pulse. Bulge? 

Danny blinked, attention caught by something about what Victor had said. “How'd you get your Uber account verified without- oh my god!” He threw his hands up in disgust. “You're not even Victor, are you? Your first word to me was a lie?” 

Not-Victor laughed. Danny was surprised enough that he loosened his grip. But the other guy didn't try to get out. “You're fun,” he said. He had a nice smile, crooked and kissable. Oh, fuck.

Danny felt his whole face burn red. Shit. Abort. He scrambled up, suddenly mortified that he was sitting on the other guy. “What's your name?” he demanded, trying to sound unaffected and mean. 

“Jay.” 

“You're sure this time?” Danny managed to work up a little more indignation. 

“Hands to god, on my grave,” Jay promised. Danny sort of hated that he believed it. 

Danny relented. “Fine.” It wasn’t like he had any moral high ground to stand on about maintaining secret identities, if he was honest. He huffed and crossed his arms. “How do I get Batman off my ass? I'm guessing you don't want me to talk to him about you.”

[elihermit]

Eddie Diaz x Reader

Can you do a fic based off of 911 5x13 Fear-O-Phobia where Eddie destroys his room with a baseball bat but instead of Eddie destroying it Y/n does.

my tears ricochet

pairing: Eddie Diaz x fem!reader

summary: you work in a call center, answering emergency calls and you thought that no call would break you anymore, but today you have reached your breaking point

this fic is based on season 5 episode 13 “Fear-o-Phobia”

word count: 2,2k

author’s note: this fic contains references to child abuse and self-harm, please read with caution!

You're on shift again today and you're pretty tired at the end of it. You had an hour left before the end of the day and you really couldn't wait to get home to Chris and Eddie, even though you knew Eddie would be back a little later than you.

“Long day, huh?” — you break out of your thoughts and see Josh in front of you. You had a fifteen-minute break and decided to have coffee.

“Don’t even start, it’s like this full moon curse decided to show up earlier.”

“I feel you, but guess what? You will be free soon and my night will be long.” — Josh sighed and went to pour himself a cup of coffee too.

“Lucky me, I guess.” — you got up to go to your desk and continue taking calls. “Back to service.”

You sat down at the table and gave yourself a couple more minutes to get ready for the last hour of work. This job was difficult, sometimes your emotions could take over, but you thought you had already learned to control them. And even if you thought about quitting, those thoughts went away after a minute, because you knew that you were the first person people counted on when they were in danger and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

You put on your ear piece and come back to help people.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Please, my dad is going to kill me.”

You hear a child's trembling voice and your heart turns over.

“Sweetie, tell me what’s going on? Are you in danger?”

“My dad gets aggressive when he drinks, he took his gun.”

“Is he threatening you with a gun? Are you in any pain?”

“He pointed it on me, but I ran to my room. Daddy hit me in the head, I feel dizzy.”

“Open the fucking door!” — you hear a drunken male voice and banging on the door. You need to be fast.

“Okay, honey, help is coming. Tell me your name and address.”

“I’m Audrey, 354 N Spring Street.”

“All units, 354 N Spring Street, the man is intoxicated, he is armed and threatens his daughter. Possible child abuse and injuries.”

You quickly notify units about this and it takes your breath away. You need to save the girl, no one will get hurt today.

“Okay, Audrey, help is on the way, I will stay on the line, until they arrive. Is there anyone else at home?”

“No, it’s just the two of us. Please hurry, he’s going to break the door!”

You feel a tear rolling down your cheek, but you quickly brush it away.

“Help will be with you in 5 minutes. In the meantime, I want you to listen to me, okay? Hide under the bed or in the closet and try to be quiet, sweetie.”

You can hear the movement on the other end of the phone. Your palms are sweating and you're breathing fast. Your whole focus is on this girl.

“Okay, I'm under the bed.”

“Good job. Help is almost there, Audrey.”

The next thing you hear is a broken door and a little girl screaming. You hear a man swearing and a loud bang. You can't control the tears.

“Audrey, are you there?”

But there is silence in response. All you can hear is Audrey's screams and pleading for dad not to hit her anymore. Your hands start shaking and you feel like you're suffocating, everything is in a blur and slow motion.

“LAPD! Raise your hands and move away from the girl by 3 meters.”

You hear the voices of the police, but it's too soon to exhale, you don't know if it was too late. You feel Josh's hand on your shoulder and only now realize how much you're crying.

“Dispatcher, this is 134, the girl is unconscious, but stable, got here on time. We’re heading to the hospital.”

It should be a moment where you exhale, because the girl is alive and she will be fine, but you can't shake the feeling that you could have done more. This is not the first call from a child in your career, but it was the first call where you heard everything in "action" and it broke you.

You open the front door to the house and walk inside on weak legs. God only knows how you got home, because everything seemed to stop and you were alone in this trap. The girl's scream is still in your ears, and burning cheeks remind you of tears that you couldn't control. All you wanted right now was to be alone.

“Hey mommy.”

You hear Chris's voice from the living room and go there. He started calling you mom not so long ago and you loved it. You accepted him as your own child and Eddie always made sure to thank you for that.

“Hey, baby. Is dad home yet?”

You wanted Eddie to be at home, he was your safe place, who always dispersed the clouds when they appeared over your head. But another part of you wanted him to still be at work because you didn't want to explain what happened.

“No, but he should be in an hour.”

“Okay. How about I make you dinner and turn on cartoons while you eat? Mommy is not feeling well and I would like to lay down for a bit. Are you going to be fine on your own?”

“Sure, I wanted to watch cartoons all day!”

Chris smiled broadly and it melted your heart. He's so cheerful and positive that sometimes you thought you needed to learn from him. You loved him with all your heart and if something had happened to him, you would have died. But one question haunted you - how can you protect him if you couldn't protect the child at work?

You put a sandwich in front of Chris and turned on his favorite cartoons. He thanked you, you kissed him on the forehead and went into the bedroom. After closing the door, you sat down on the bed and finally let out all your emotions. You were angry, sad and crushed. You were angry at yourself for not being able to do more, you were angry at this worthless father who allowed himself to treat his own daughter like that, and you were angry that now you weren't sure you could save Chris if it was necessary.

Tears were pouring from your eyes, this cutting pain in your chest, which was growing with every second and this feeling of utter helplessness drove you crazy.

You didn't know what was driving you, but the next thing you knew it was the bat in your hands and the first blow to the wall. You never thought you had that kind of strength because that punch left a hole in the wall. You scream, this scream is more like a plea and each blow gets stronger. You don't hear anything that's going on around you, you just hit the bat against the wall and scream, thinking that it will make your pain less real.

Tears are still pouring out of your eyes, you can feel the salty taste in your mouth. You throw the bat on the floor and it falls with a loud bang. Now your hands are hitting the wall and you feel your knuckles getting scratched, but you didn't care. Now the most horrifying screams are coming out of your throat.

“Hey, buddy. I’m on my way, do you want anything?”

“Dad, please hurry up! Mommy is not well.”

“What do you mean? What happened?”

Eddie's body immediately tensed up and he accelerated the car to get home faster.

“I don’t know, I keep calling her, but she won’t answer.” — Eddie heard heavy thuds and screams in the background.

“Okay, Chris, don’t worry, I’m almost here.”

Eddie ran to the house and opened the door. During those minutes while he was driving in the car, he wanted only one thing - for both of you to be okay.

He saw Chris near your shared bedroom and immediately ran up to him.

“Chris, are you okay? Where’s mom?”

“She locked herself in the bedroom. I tried to call her, but she was screaming really hard.”

“Okay, buddy. Sit in the living room, please, I’m gonna go get her, okay?”

“Okay.” — Eddie watched Chris go.

“Hey baby, it’s me. Can I come in?”

He didn't hear anything. Just the silence that didn't give him any peace of mind.

“Okay, I’m going to come in, (Y/N). Stay away from the door.”

Eddie kicked down the door and was finally able to enter the bedroom. The first thing he saw were holes in the wall. He took two steps and saw you sitting on the floor with your back leaning on the bed frame. Your legs were pressed against your chest and your head was in your lap. Eddie saw your shoulders shaking and heard you sobbing.

He immediately knelt down and cupped your face in his hands so that you could look at him.

“Hey. Hey, hey, I’m here, baby. What’s wrong? Please talk to me.” — he saw your red eyes and wet face from crying.

When you finally looked at him, you saw his frightened eyes. He was looking for an answer in your eyes and patiently waited for you to explain everything to him.

“He almost killed her, Eddie. I should have done more. I heard everything.” — the tears started to flow with renewed vigor and a sound more like a whine came out of your mouth.

“Shh, mi amor. I’m here.” — Eddie wrapped you in his arms and you cried into his shoulder. He stroked your hair soothingly and said sweet nothings in your ear. “Let it out, baby. I’m right here.”

He hated seeing you like this. He knew that his job was difficult and that he was risking his life, but he knew that your job is 100 times more difficult emotionally because you hear every pain, fear and suffering of other people when you get a call.

“We’re right out here, Chris, don’t worry.”

You are now in the kitchen and Eddie has left Chris's room. You were sitting at the table and looking at your hands. Your knuckles are red and swollen from the blows and your head has so many regrets. You scared Chris.

“Is he okay?” — you asked in a whisper and didn't want to think about hurting Chris. That's your biggest fear.

“He’s still scared. Makes two of us.”

Eddie sat down across from you and you looked up. You were so upset for what you had done and it was eating you up.

“I’m so sorry. The last thing I wanted was for Chris to be scared of me.”

“Hey.” — Eddie took your hand. “He’s not scared of you, he was scared for you.”

“Did he call you?”

“He did. I got here as fast as I could.”

You chuckled. This scenario is ironically similar. A call from a child who asks to be saved from a parent. Only his call was to save you. And it hit you with an epiphany. You wanted so badly to never put Chris in danger that you unwittingly reproduced it into reality.

“I got a call today.” — you finally started explaining. “It was a little girl and she asked for help, because her dad was abusing her. A-and…” — your voice faltered, but you continued. “Then he beat her up and I heard her screaming.”

“Oh, mi amor. I’m so sorry.” — Eddie squeezed your hand, but you got up and walked over to him. He immediately realized that you wanted to sit on his lap and gave you this opportunity.

“I still can’t shake the feeling that I should have done more. And now I doubt that I can protect Chris. I can’t even do it at work.”

“Look at me, (Y/N).” — he put his hand on your face and looked into your eyes. “Do you know why Chris started calling you Mom? Because he feels safe with you. You make him feel loved and protected. And that's all we can both ask for. You are enough.”

He kissed your cheek and continued.

“I’m sorry you had that call and you had to hear all of that. But you did everything and even more, I’m sure of it. You saved that little girl. Who knows what would have happened if help had arrived 2 minutes later. But YOU did everything in time.”

And you realized that your job does not consist of personally being at the scene of accidents. Your job is to make sure that help arrives at the right time and you did a damn good job.

You smiled and felt relieved. You didn't look at this situation from Eddie's point of view and that's what got you. You wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck and buried your fingers in his hair.

He pressed you closer and kissed you on the shoulder. Every bad thought disappeared when he was around. And his arms always caught you when you started to fall to the bottom.

You heard the notification sound on your phone and pulled it out of your pocket. It was a message from Josh:

“Audrey is alive and stable. They say it was perfect timing.”

“Always on time, huh?” — Eddie saw the message and smiled at you.

“I like to be punctual.”

He pressed his lips to yours and kissed you gently. He's always here to rescue you, and you're always here to answer quickly.

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Lucky You

You and Steve are (sometimes) friends with benefits, heavy on the "friends". While being partnered up for a school project, you both get distracted very easily.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x female reader

Warnings: smut (with very little plot), p in v sex, oral (female receiving), dirty talk. unprotected sex, friends with benefits. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: My first Steve oneshot because I couldn't help it even though I didn't have any requests lol. I CAN'T HELP IT I LOVE THIS MAN OKAY?!

The math equations in front of you started to blur on the page, causing you to blink rapidly and press your fingers to your temples. You had been at it with this particular math problem for basically 30 hours now (aka 5 minutes), but you weren't getting any closer to solving it now than you were when you first moved to it.

"Yeah, I can't do this." Steve huffed, pushing his book in front of him and sighing, "This shit is way too hard."

"C'mon, we can't give up now - the project's due next week and we have like...20 more problems to do." You retorted, starting to press your fingers harder on your forehead.

Steve groaned and leaned towards you in defeat, his head heavily resting on your shoulder. Kicking his feet in a mock temper tantrum, he heaved his shoulders and pressed his full body weight against you, causing you to start to tip over.

"Steve! Stoppppp -" You started to giggle, trying to push him off of you. You saw his playful smile in the corner of your eye as he put even more of his body weight on you, eventually pushing you to the floor. You groaned loudly, throwing your hands in the air as he laid on top of your torso. "You're killing me, Harrington!"

"Come on, you love it!" He said, pushing on your stomach. You made a noise that could only be described as a "strangled gurgle" and started to slap his back.

"Okay, uncle, uncle! I wave my white flag, getoffame!" You finally pushed him off but stayed laying down, trying to catch your breath now that you had full control of your airwave again. Steve was laughing, rolling to a laying position right next to you. After a moment of silence - beside both of your laughter - he turned his head to you.

"I don't wanna do this project anymore." He said, pouting his lips. You turned your head to mirror him, staring into his puppy dog eyes. You rolled your own eyes, playfully hitting him on the shoulder.

"Well too bad, because our midterm grade relies on it." Steve sighed and you sucked your teeth, "You know, Steve, you're lucky Ms. Rollings paired us together, otherwise I have a sneaking suspicion that you'd fail this."

Steve gasped in mock horror, bringing a hand to his heart. "Lucky me? Lucky you! I'm the one pulling the full weight of this project!"

"Oh, yeah right!" You joked, laughing loudly. "That's horseshit!"

Steve scooted closer to you, casually throwing his arm around your waist, "Yes, it's very true. And as the person spear-heading this project, I have determined that we are due for a break."

You raised your eyebrows and turned on your side, fully melting into Steve's embrace. Your heart backflipped for a second - you had quite the idea of where he was going with this, and to say you were open and willing was an understatement. "Oh yeah?"

Steve nodded, playing into his joking role even more, "Oh, yes. And I have the best idea on how to spend it." He leaned his face in, his lips merely inches from your face. You couldn't help but smile, biting your lower lip.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Your hand found its way to Steve's waist, sneaking into his shirt. He gasped slightly at the feeling of your touch. He nodded slowly, leaning even closer in. His lips were touching yours now, causing your heart to beat faster.

"Why don't I show you, instead?" His voice was husky, causing your attraction to bloom in your belly. He licked his lips and quickly looked into your eyes, cocking an eyebrow.

Without waiting for your response, Steve pushed you gently on your back, sliding down your body. He smiled his signature Steve smile and played with the button on your jeans. While you slipped your sneakers off, you nodded at him, giving him the go-ahead. Hastily, he undid your top button, sliding down the jeans.

"Fuck, I missed doing this with you." He said, raising his eyebrows and lowering himself down to your level. He caught your lips in a kiss, sloppy and urgent. It had been a few weeks since you last hooked up, and not surprisingly, you were left with an ache only Steve Harrington could fill.

"I missed doing this with you." You teased back, biting down softly on his bottom lip. He groaned slightly, his eyelids fluttering closed. You smiled at the power you had in that moment - something about making The Steve Harrington weak made you feel on top of the world.

Steve hastily ripped off his tshirt, discarding it on the floor next to you. You mimicked him, your shirt joining his on the ground. Steve stared at your chest for a moment, covered in a lacy bra you kept hidden like a secret weapon. He whimpered and looked at you.

"You wore my favorite bra." He plainly stated, his eyes glazing over slightly. You smirked.

"Just a coincidence...laundry day."

It wasn't a coincidence.

Steve licked his lips, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your chest. He watched as you slowly - painfully slow, so you could tease him - undid the clasp of your bra behind you, your tits bouncing as they left the constraints of the bra. As you discarded your bra to the depth of the floor with your shirts, Steve groaned again, immediately reaching down to palm your tits.

"God, I could stare at these tits all day," He said, fingering your nipples. You hissed as you alternated between the two, the nipple not in between his fingers finding its way into his mouth.

"Fuck, Steve!" You whispered, your hands finding their way into his hair. He chuckled as he lapped at your tits, teething at the erect nipples gently. He swirled his tongue around your tits, leaving a trail of immediately drying saliva. You were quickly aware of how this wasn't going to be a slow and sensual fuck - this was going to be a burning-passion-I-need-you-right-now kind.

As if on queue, Steve slid down you body, throwing your legs to the side so he could bury his head in between them. You yelped quietly at the movement and he smirked, winking at you as he pushed your underwear to the side. He settled in, and while eyeing your cunt, he whistled.

"Whew, baby you are already so wet for me," He said, licking his lips, "I can see it from here...don't even need to touch it to know." He eyed you, teasing your wet folds with a gentle touch from one of his point fingers. You gasped at his touch, cocking an eyebrow.

"You going to tease me all night, Harrington, or you going to put your money where you mouth is?" You said through gritted teeth. He chuckled, taking his pointer finger to start circling your clit. You let your head hang backwards, your mouth agape. A shiver of pleasure shot through your body at his touch.

"Oh, I'll show you where I'll put my mouth." He said, his voice raspy. A moment passed before you felt his cool lips attach themselves to your clit, immediately sucking at just the right tempo.

"Oh, fuck, Steve!" You moaned, one of your hands flying to your side. You gripped the t-shirt next to you, balling it into your fist.

Steve replied with a moan, sending a vibration through your clit. You started to pant as his tongue lapped at your pussy, your legs involuntarily opening wider and wider. You felt your toes start to tingle as Steve inserted a finger, keeping at it with his tongue. He moaned as he ate your core, the vibration of the sound sending your closer and closer to the edge. Your free hand found its way to one of your tits, playing with a nipple. Steve looked up from your pussy and pulled away, smiling.

"That's it, play with your tits, you dirty girl." He immediately went back to your pussy and you felt your eyes start to roll back in your head. Sex with Steve was always fun, and sometimes funny, but when Steve was dirty, he knew just the thing to say to send you over the edge.

You were putty in his hands, and he knew it.

Steve's finger inside of you teased you, slowly moving in and out. He focused his attention at your clit, getting you closer and closer to orgasm. You felt the coil in your belly start to build, and your pussy started to tighten.

"I'm gonna cum," You said, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't have your wits about you to be any loud - Steve's sexual ability was making your head swim, and y9our vision turn fuzzy. "Fuck, I'm so close."

Suddenly, Steve pulled away, wiping his mouth. Your head shot up to look at him and he smiled, pushing his underwear down. His erect penis stood at attention, desperate to be inside of you.

"If that's the case, then I'm going to make you cum on my cock." He said. Suddenly, you gripped your hips and flipped you over, immediately spreading your legs. Pulling you up by your hips, he positioned your ass in the air. With a swift slap - a loud TWACK echoing in the room - you felt him position himself at your entrance.

"Tell me you want it." He commanded, playing with your pussy. You felt the tip of his cock circling your entrance, never fully going in. Gasping at the feeling, you spoke.

"I want it. Fuck, Steve, I want it!"

"What do you want?"

"I-I want your cock!" You heard the neediness - the desperation - in your voice. If you were a character in a book or a movie, you would've rolled your eyes - how good does the sex have to be in order for someone to be so desperate to sound like that?

But you knew.

"I want your cock in me." Your voice was a whine as he chuckled. He slowly entered you, stopping about a quarter of the way. Your body tensed and you held your breath, waiting for the full feeling of him stretching you. He exited you and entered, again stopping about a quarter of the way. He did this two or three more times before he fully entered you without warning, slamming into your pussy.

You screamed in pleasure, throwing your head back. Steve grabbed hold of your hair and gave it a quick tug, finding pacing with his dick. Every thrust sent shockwaves through your body, the orgasm that Steve abandoned a few moments ago starting to creep back in.

Your body heat rose and you felt your forehead start to sweat, your words getting jumbled. They were somewhere between "fuckfuckfuck" and "yesyesyesySteveohyesyes", Steve's grunts and moans peppering between them.

"Fuck, this pussy is so good!" He said, his hair swinging with every thrust. Looking back, you saw that his lids were half closed, a sign that he was getting closer to his own orgasm. He caught your eyes and smiled, "Fuck, you look so fucking hot."

"Fuck Steve...I'm gonna fucking cum. You better make me fucking cum this time." You said, a smile playing on your lips. He smiled back, slapping your ass again and digging his fingers into your hips to hold you steady. His thrusts became a bit sloppy, and the rhythm he had been holding was now starting to come undone.

"I always make you fucking cum," He grunted, "I make you cum. You better scream my name when you cum." He commanded, this side of Steve rising in a way that only happens when you two had sex. You heart was beating so rapidly, seeing him sweaty and primal. The Steve you often fucked was so different than the Steve everyone else knew - it made your sex all the better, almost like a secret between you two.

Your orgasm was on the brink now, your vision peppered with black spots. The coil in your belly finally snapped, the rush of pleasure extending to your toes. You screamed his name, you hips bucking at his thrusts. Steve grabbed hold of your hair again before you felt his chest completely connect with your back, him laying on top of you. With two more thrusts, he groaned your name, his orgasm shooting into you. He reached one arm around your chest to hold you closer, his spasms moving you together as he held you close.

After a moment, silent except from panting from the both of you, he pulled out, immediately sitting on the ground to catch his breath. You wiped your brown and sat across from him, mirroring him.

"Fuck, that was so hot." He spoke, his voice tired. You nodded i agreement and smiled at him, causing a small fit of giggles to be exchanged.

And just like that, the usual Steve was back.

"I have to tell you something," Steve said, starting to slowly get dressed. He helped you by handing you your clothes, "What I said earlier? Totally not true."

Confused, you looked at him, "Steve, what the hell are you talking about?"

Zipping up his jeans, he smiled at you, "With sex like that? I'm the lucky one."

---

A/N: What did you guys think?? I had this idea for a while, and just wanted to put some pen to paper. It's not my favorite, but I do enjoy a good Steve smut lol. As always, likes/reblogs/comments are much appreciated <3

[kaceythecrunch]

RANT. (sturntok.)

Yall. Im so mad. Sturntok pisses me the fuck off to the point it isn't even funny anymore. This might be messy, so bare with me.

Tara. Why the fuck is everyone pressed about Tara hanging out with the triplet, specifically matt and Chris. Yall are acting as if it was only two of them, like they're on a date. They were with fucking I don't know, 8 other people? Like why does Sturntok care who they hangout with? Did you not learn from elementary school to mind your bees wax, or business? You're probably 15. They're literally 5 years older than you. There is no way, in any universe they're gonna date you girl. ALSO TO SHIT ON TARA?? LIKE GIRL. FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO SHIT ON CUZ HOMEGIRL DONT CARE. SHE DONT CARE. SHE IS STRIVING AND LIVING LIFE LIKE YOU SHOULD GIRL. Live life and don't care. You'll probably have a positive outcome. No cuz y'all know how Chris owns the Saturn necklace thing? Its vivienne underwood. It's less than 20 bucks on Amazon. Also when was the last time y'all saw Chris wearing that necklace girl. Also there's a post from like months, or I think a year ago of Tara wearing the same necklace. These fucking tiktok girls are so annoying. Like we get it, everyone wants to be Tara. (she's my gf.)

Podcast. I saw a bunch of btiches shit on the podcast. Like cmon. THEY ARE PRODUCING AN HOUR LONG VIDEO FOR YALL EVERY WEEK. Mfs are burnt out, you're lucky that they even produce content for you ungreatful hoes. Like lwk, I'd rather have them remove Wednesday videos. I remember when they first started their podcast that they were really excited to start and stuff. I also remember, I believe it was their earlier vlogs. When they were still living in Boston and they haven't like went to LA yet, they were talking about turning their basement into a podcast room. Like cmon. This is something they've been wanting to do and you hoes just don't appreciate anything. Like have y'all's mama's not been pissed at y'all for not appreciating her food. Live life positive and not negative tf. But ofc, I respect their decision.

Intro. Yall just love to shit on everyone. Ruining the party. Sturntok reminds me of the kids-the class "clowns" who would be so shitty to the teacher for no reason and would ruin fun things for everyone. Like guys, I think we should all as a community bully Sturntok. It requires a bit more bullying, just to knock some sense into their heads. Anyways, back to what I was ranting about. I loved their new intro. its a new era. A new them. Change. Is. Fucking. hard. I understand that you love the teens from Boston running around making fools of themselves. Me too, I shall admit it. But in order to get sponsorships, to get the little paring things. (For example, them sponsoring Celsius, even becoming the youtooz thing.) Like they gotta act more professional.

Change. This tied in with the last few things. CHANGE IS HARD. CHANGE IS A DIFFICULT THING. But how the fuck are you gonna live life, and enjoy life when your stuck on one thing forever. Change is needed for growth, and for learning. Like guys, THEYRE 20. I think that's something y'all forget. They aren't teenagers anymore. Its kinda like how when everyone went into middle school and started to not like kiddy things when you still liked kiddy things. When I was in middle school I still like to play with Legos, draw, watch anime. Until I hit 7th grade, aka everyone's downfall. I still enjoy some of those things today but I changed because people in middle school stopped like those things and its embarrassing (well for me at least) to show up in school with anime shirts cuz I'm getting older. Thats what they're feeling I guess. Again, theyre 20 now.

Crazy ass mfs. Crazy, as in them soft mf's on sturntok. Also what pisses me off more is that they're coming here on tumblr. Like no, I know your soft ass belongs on Wattpad bffr. I have a long rant about this one, so bare with me again. They are so so so so so SOOOOO sensitive about the "spicy edits." Sometimes the fucking video frame isn't even about something "spicy" aka- them being shirtless, video frame near their crotch. It was when there was a song about sex. How soft can you be. Most songs these days are about sex. Some songs y'all probably didn't know about was about sex. (cake by the ocean for example.) LIKE LETS ME FOR REAL. MOST SONGS ARE ABOUT SEX. Also with the tiktok audios being removed like cmon. Not everything is about sunshine and rainbows. I remember I commented on a Chris edit and I was like.

"I need this man in my life. He's so hot."

"you're fucking gross. He's a human being and do you know how grossed out he would be if he saw that you said this? (bullshitbullshit,morebullshitandstupidness.)"

Yeah, keeping fucking running your mouth. THIS TIKTOK HAS LIKE 4K VIEWS. DO YOU WANNA KNOW HOW MUCH FUCKING FOLLOWERS THE TRIPLETS HAVE? YEAH. THAT'S NOT EVEN A QUARTER OF WHAT THEY HAVE. THIS VIDEO HAS 1K COMMENTS. ARE THEY FUCKING HUNTING ME DOWN?? MY COMMENT HAS 3 LIKES. WHY WOULD THEY CARE TO FUCKING CHECK GIRL. ITS ALSO TELLING THE FUCKING PERSON WHO EDITED THIS THAT THIS EDIT WAS FIRE AND THAT THEY MADE THE EDIT HELLA GOOD. UR FUCKING LUCKY I KEPT MY ANGER TO MYSELF CUZ OH GIRL. I WOULD SUCKER PUNCH YOU. You know whats also funny? They're the same people who will be pissed with when they see matt or Chris with a female. Like girl. You're calling me fucking gross? Do you think how much more worse that is than my comment? You ruin friendships. OG sturniolo fans know that they've been friends with girls. If you genuinely care, yall would know that nick made most of matt and chris' friends. Meaning most of them were females. SO OBVIOUSLY THEYRE GONNA HAVE GIRL FRIENDS. I remember watching the Zach sang pod when nick was on and he explained that matt usually doesn't make the friends. Theres a joke where matt says "I'm gonna make a friend that wasn't originally nick's friends." smth like that. Anyways, off topic. Just because they are seen with a girl, doesn't mean they are fucking dating them. Like shut the fuck up. please. Respectfully shut the fuck because I'm a nice person. Also Chris gives off major virgin vibes lets bffr.

Madi. Yall hate so bad on Madi and its fucking grossing me out. Why do you have to ship her with matt and chris??? Literally to the point they can't even put her in photo dumps or videos. You just gotta ruin it for everyone, huh? shes fucking gorgeous, and she's so funny in videos. Plus, when she does talk shes hillarious. She literally reminds me of Matt. She doesn't fucking talk much because she is more of a listener.. Like guys bffr. How can you hate her when she barley spoke in videos. Like respectfully, shut the fuck up. Yall just jealous shes pretty.

Calling Nick fine. I also hate them mfs who are always running their mouth about girls calling Nick fine. Lets bffr. Y'all didn't think a gay guy is fine? I'm sure you've had a crush on one gay person before. And if you haven't trust me. You will. I had a crush on my gay friend in 8th grade. I feel like its a canon even in every girl's life. anyways, I hate when girls will be scared to call nick hot.

"Nick is so fine. But like as a cool guy friend way. Please don't attack me."

POOR GIRL BELIEVES SHE IS GONNA BE ATTACKED IF SHE CALLS A GAY MAN FINE. Sturntok leave her the fuck alone. He's hot as fucking and I will kill civilians if I'm not given more nick edits. He's so fine. Literally the hottest triplet.

If u made it here thanks. There was shit on my chest that I really needed to let out. What have we learned today?

Sturntok can suck my fucking dick.

Thanks goodbye.

Me to Sturntok :

[jasntodds]

Penace [5]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 13,401

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, panic attack (jason), ptsd (jason), hurt/comfort, mention of scars

Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update!! I had a bunch of stuff going on last month and stuff happened and I just did not have the mental capacity to edit this chapter. I'm so sorry!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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The next morning rolls around leaving Jason to wake up first. You're still sound asleep facing him, some of your hair covering your face. Jason takes a tentative finger and moves some of the strands from your face. He takes this time to exist. Sleep always came easier when you were around. Less nightmares, not as much tossing and turning, no insomnia. It was always easier with you around and last night was no different.

You fell asleep first just as you usually did when he read to you. You were cuddled into his side and it felt like it always did for that half hour. Just the two of you in bed together with a book and enough trauma for the both of you. Jason thinks you're both really good at being able to exist in a moment as if nothing happened. There's something in you that allows you both to ignore it all even for a few minutes and just pretend to be who you were before instead of just skin and bones.

The world, people, expect you both to be something specific, to act a certain way. You told him once, in a sort of one-off conversation, you felt like people expected something different. At the tower, you always felt like the others expected you to remain quiet or be angry all the time, to snap at some point. Maybe you did. But, your blood was never filled with anger but grief for what you should have been able to have. When Jason died and you got angry, they expected the silence. They expected the grief to hit you like a train. They expected you to quit, get revenge on the Joker before Bruce did. They expected more than rage-filled blood and red-stained hands. And they expected you to move on because what else was there to do? He was dead. And you were alone. People put up expectations and in some ways you feel like you need to meet some of them. Be more careful, get angry, snap, pretend like it's all fine because it's always been fine. But, then you lay down with Jason and you can watch movies and talk about your mom and you can exist in a way that you want without the weight of expectations collapsing your lungs.

Everyone thinks Jason is angry, always has even before he died. He was never angry. He was upset and hurt and didn't know where to put it. He was never angry but everyone expected him to be so he played into it. They expected him to be some sort of fuck boy so he played into it. They expected him to be reckless and so he was. Maybe he was always a little reckless, no one forced him to rob the Batmobile or go with the red hoods when he was a teenager. But they expect it. And now...Jason can feel it. They expect him to lose his mind and until then, they expect him to be fine. He lived, right? Joker is dead, Bruce avenged his death, and he was brought back. He should be fine, right?

They expect him to be fine without ever considering the scars lingering on his chest or marking up his mind like scuffed up wood. But with you, there are no expectations. He is allowed to read and tell you about theater stuff. He is allowed to have nightmares and be scared. He is allowed to just be. When Jason is around you, he's allowed to exist in a way that he wants without the weight of expectations strangling the life out of him.

Maybe that's why you can exist in moments like these as if nothing ever happened. It is the only time neither of you are facing some false hope of expectations. It is the only time you both can be damaged in all your glory. It is the only time you're allowed to bear your scars with pride and show the beauty they've left behind. You can just...be.

He eyes you softly, brows pinched together and you look so peaceful. He wants nothing more than to pull you into him and sleep like this all day. But it is not his place. He's surprised you stayed in the first place let alone stayed in bed with him. He is so glad you did but there is so much you haven't talked about. So much happened and there's just so much between you. He wonders if you'll ever be able to recover or if this is all you'll be. Just a one-off sleepover sometimes.

He doesn't like that idea very much.

Jason forces himself to get out of bed and make his way to the training area where he keeps his fridge. He expects to be able to grab a few eggs and make an omelet, see what else he has and maybe he could make you (and Tim) pancakes. But, as he enters the room, Tim is seated at the table with a tablet open and his brows pinched together.

"Oh, hey." Tim chimes, offering Jason a wave and a glance before he looks back to the tablet. "I made toast and a pot of coffee." Tim explains.

Jason scratches his head before he shakes it and fully enters the room. "Right, yeah, okay." Jason clears his throat, trying to get rid of the sleep still etched in his tone. "Did you even fucking sleep?"

"Yeah, of course." Tim brushes the question, voice still chipper and a part of it reminds Jason of how Gar usually was at the tower. "Early riser."

"A roof fell on top of you last night." Jason states as he walks over to the coffee pot seeing about a quarter of a cup left. He lets out a sigh before he dumps the pot in the sink and starts a fresh pot.

"Oh, yeah but I'm fine." Tim shakes it off.

Jason can almost hear your voice in his head telling him to push for an answer. A roof fell on top of him and his boyfriend is in a coma. Jason does not buy for a single second that he's simply an early riser. No one is an early riser with this job, not if you want more than three hours of sleep a night. It would be responsible of him to ask Tim if he were okay.

"Seriously, you alright?" Jason asks as he leans against the table to face Tim.

Tim looks up at him and while he knew some of Jason before, this is different. The most of Jason he knows is actually Red Hood related. You didn't talk a lot about him when you hung out and he only spoke to Jason a handful of times, usually about his order at Excellent Gotham. There wasn't much said about Bruce Wayne's newest son. Instead, he knows Red Hood is ruthless, brutal, and scary. He is intimidating and will kill someone if need be. He knows Red Hood almost got his dad killed and almost got you killed and got Dick killed. His association with Crane got him killed. Tim knows Red Hood is someone he wants on his side because if he's not, that could be for the worst.

But, he's looking at Jason Todd who happens to be Red Hood and in this moment he doesn't feel like any of those things. He feels like he did when you introduced him. Normal. Calm. Nice. Tim knew there was more to Red Hood. Not only did he meet Jason and he trusts your general opinion of people, but Tim doesn't believe anyone is as two-dimensional as they may seem. Yet, some part of him almost feels surprised with Jason asking if he's okay but it doesn't feel like it's out of obligation. Instead, it feels like he might actually be genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine." Tim answers. "Just..." Tim lets out a breath. "Gar said they haven't made any progress with Bernard. And I'm here..." Tim trails off. "Almost getting crushed by a roof and getting trained by you and y/n."

Jason pushes off the table as the coffee pot dings. "You've only been here like two days." Jason states as he makes his way back over to the coffee. "How'd it happen?" Jason asks as he starts to pour himself a cup, making sure to leave enough for you.

"Some video game thing that Brother Blood released." Tim groans. "No one knows how to get anyone out of their comas."

"Look," Jason starts as he walks back over to Tim. "That fucking sucks, alright? But, you and the Titans will figure it out. You're a genius, man." Jason lets out this scoff that comes out as a chuckle. "The way I see it, all those people and Bernard are lucky to have you looking out for 'em."

"Yeah, except I suck at this." Tim lets out a groan, tilting his head back. "I mean, Dick was...incredible. He was so good at this whole thing and he still is. And then you took over and you were just as great." Tim pauses for a few seconds as Jason watches the defeat start to wash over his features. "How am I supposed to live up to that when I can't even get any intel on this guy? When I can't even figure out a damn video game?!"

"Didn't you choose to be Robin?" Jason asks.

"Yeah but y/n said—"

"I died as Robin." Jason cuts him off because it doesn't matter what you said or didn't say. Jason knows Tim is going to be great at this. "Don't take what she says to heart too much. Her viewpoint of Robin will always be tainted because I died. Because it involved Bruce. You chose this, man." Jason points a finger at him. "No one else is crazy enough to do that, not after me. But you did. That means something. Don't get in your head about it, alright? You're smart as fuck and you're capable."

"But what if I was wrong?" Tim asks knowing it takes a special kind of confidence to not only volunteer to be Robin following Dick and Jason but to have the confidence he could do it.

"Dick wouldn't have asked you to be Robin if he thought you were." Jason says it so simply. "We were trained by Bruce for months before we put on the mask and cape, just remember that." Jason states as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Thank you." Tim offers a soft smile. "Didn't think you'd be the pep talk kind of guy."

"I'm not." Jason lets out a booming cackle. "So don't go telling people I am."

Tim lets out a soft laugh before he locks the tablet. "She still sleeping?" He decides not to push his luck and changes subject, surprised not to see Sam yet.

Jason nods softly. "Yeah, letting her sleep."

"She doesn't sleep a lot, that's what Gar said...that Molly said."

"Yeah..." Jason pulls in a breath as his heart starts to break. "Comes with the job sometimes." Jason only half-lies.

"She's sleeping now." Tim gains a cheeky smile.

"Shut up." Jason groans and he not getting into any of that with Tim. Nope. "Did you want something more than toast?" Jason immediately changes subject before Tim can try to return the pep talk favor for relationship advice. "Toast is a shit breakfast." Jason puts his Wonder Woman mug down before he gets up.

Tim offers a chuckle. "Uh...yeah, I could eat something else."

Jason looks through some cabinets and the fridge. "Omelet or pancakes?"

"Omelet?" Tim questions softly. "Didn't think I'd have an option." Tim did not thnk Jason could really cook, given the whole eggs, beer, and cheese comment.

"Was making both anyway." Jason retorts. He's just trying to be nice.

Tim lets out a laugh. "Oh, I get it."

"If you don't shut up, we won't train today." Jason almost wants to shut his head in the fridge door with his comment. Who the fuck is he? Dick? Gar? Ugh.

Meanwhile, you're finally stirring awake to an empty and cold bed. Your hand reaches over and you feel the spot where Jason was is cold. Your eyes peek open to see he's no longer there or even in the room. It's not that you should have expected him to be you think but there's a part of you that's still disappointed. Somewhere in your head you almost hoped you'd wake up together and you'd have one of your awkward realizations together. You'd stumble over yourselves and your words but it'd feel like home. It'd be warm and comfortable anyway. And then you'd find your footing where it almost felt safest, in the mix of bantering and flirting. But, he's gone. You're not sure that feeling is something you'd ever be able to get used to.

But, you get up anyway, stretching before you get out of bed. You grab one of Jason's hoodies from the table, tugging it over your head as you walk out of the room. You head to the room with the fridge that you're not sure you should really call a kitchen since there's all the training equipment in there, too. Why is he like this?

As you get closer, you hear Jason's laughter bouncing off the walls. Your heart skips a beat and you don't even notice the way the corners of your mouth perk up into a tender smile. You pause just to listen for a few seconds while his laughter subsides and he goes on with his story. He tells Tim some story about a fight with the Riddler and how mad he was. You've heard the story before but hearing him talk so casually and lightly about his Robin days makes you want to burst.

In the few times you've talked of Robin, there's been a sense of bitterness and sadness surrounding the mantle but now he's laughing and joking. He has stories that aren't tied with grief and pain. Robin always meant the entire world to him and you're so happy he seems to still have some of that joy telling the stories. You think maybe he is getting better. Maybe Leslie really is helping him again.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Jason quips as you walk into the room.

You clear your throat sarcastically. "Get fucked."

Jason flips you off with a tender smile while Tim lets out a laugh.

"Guess I won't make you pancakes then." Jason shrugs dramatically and you know it's a hollow threat but it is also not a chance you're willing to take.

Your eyes narrow slightly before a smile comes to your lips again. "Do not get fucked."

Jason tilts his head and lets out a laugh. "Dunno, think it'll help?"

You shake your head. "You are a bit uptight."

"Look who's fucking talking." Jason waves the spatula at her.

"I am so not uptight." You laugh as you take a seat beside Tim.

"Well." Tim adds in with a shake of his head and the scrunch of his nose.

"The fuck does that mean, Tim?" Your eyes widen at him.

Tim's eyes widen slightly back at her before he quickly looks to Jason. He might help him with Robin but if he wants to go back and forth with you on this front, that's all him. Jason will let him sink. He knows exactly which side he should always be on and it's wherever you are.

"You're on your own." Jason chimes, waving a spatula in the air as he turns back to the stove, the first batch of pancakes already on the burner.

"Nothing." Tim shakes his head with a smile.

"Right." You laugh softly as you roll your eyes.

Jason walks over with a mug in hand. He hands it off to you and your brows quickly raise seeing it's your Supergirl mug from the manor. You packed and moved but forgot the mug. While things aren't...bad per se, between you and Bruce, you did not go back for anything you forgot and you almost laugh. You may not have gone back but clearly Jason at the very least took your mug, likely with the intention to give it to Molly to give to you.

"Thank you." You hold your mug up to him as he goes to walk away.

"You're welcome." Jason gives you a bright and cheeky smile.

"So, what're we going today?" You ask the boys while Jason finishes breakfast.

"I really got to find this Venta guy and get back." Tim states.

"Figure we'll eat, train a bit, then help Tim here try to get some intel." Jason explains, finishing the pancakes before he moves onto the omelets.

"Sounds good." You suck in a breath, pulling out your phone to send a quick text to Molly to let her know you're awake and what the plan is.

Jason finishes up your breakfast before joining you and Tim at the table with three plates in hand, a delicate balancing act on his way. Tim offers a quick thank you before digging in, the toast clearly not holding him over too well. You offer Jason a tender smile before you dig in. Your chest warms and your skin bursts with goosebumps knowing Jason made pancakes for you.

Jason offers such a specific type of subtle kindness that seems to be overlooked by a lot of people. It's not so much in his words which after all this time, you figured out it's just because he's not too good at expressing himself most of the time. For him, actions say everything that gets caught in his throat. And it's not just with you he does it with. Bruce preferred his omelet differently and Jason never even asked, he always just made an extra one with the things Bruce liked. Gar mentioned he was looking for a few Saga comics and Jason found them and shipped them to Titans tower just because he could. He always offers to help Molly with anything she's working on. He extends his kindness with actions just to display how much he cares about the people who offer him the same kindness.

You think it's one of your favorite things about him.

The three of you finish up your food and get changed for training. The three of you take your time stretching and getting ready to allow your food to settle a little. Training starts just as it did yesterday, Jason taking the first round and then you. Tim still doesn't stand a chance but you and Jason can already see some improvement the longer you train which comes as a big relief. 

After training, the three of you get suited up and head out, deciding to go to the marina this time. Tim rides with you, hoping to find something out tonight. He feels like he's running out of time. Meanwhile, you and Jason are looking to see how he does not in a training room with a safety net. A roof fell on him last night and he seems incredibly unbothered. To you, it only feels right to have him out on the streets anyway, even if it's under false pretenses. So, while you're "looking" for Venta or trying to get intel on him, you're also patrolling, showing Tim the ropes, teaching him the art of grappling between buildings. This is all just more training, making sure he'll be safe out there in the open without the security blanket of you and Jason or the Titans or being in one location. Jason and you think Tim will be just fine. He's smart and capable, he pays attention. This is not a game to him.

It matters.

It always mattered to Dick and Jason, too but it's different with Tim. Bruce offered Robin to Dick and Jason. They were his sons. Batman and Robin. They had months and months of training and while it was hard and brutal at times, there was something that felt magical about the whole thing. It felt surreal. With Tim, it's as if he feels he is obligated to fill the role. Unlike Dick and Jason, Tim chose it and there's somehow more pressure in that for him to prove himself. Tim is generally someone who can focus on things that are important and serious, but this is different. It is his life. It's the life of innocent people. He's having fun, sure, but he's taking it even more seriously than Jason and Dick ever did. It doesn't help he's trying to fill their shoes, something Jason does understand.

After hours of looking and patrolling, you don't turn anything up and head back to Jason's. Tim is incredibly disappointed by his inability to find anything out but you and you assure him that if Venta were in town or if anyone knew anything, they would have spilled with the two of you being around anyway. Between the three of you, someone would have told you some sort of information. You both remind him how easy it was to get information from the people you did question about other cases. Some people are harder but getting intel on one person rarely ever results in no answers. The reassurance does make Tim feel a little bit better about it.

While Tim is feeling a bit better and you're confident in his abilities, feeling pretty good actually, the case is not the same for Jason. Some days are just better than others and today is not one of those days. Waking up with you was refreshing but he's finding that to be the best part of his day because Tim put on the Robin suit. Jason isn't mad or bitter about it. It has nothing to do with it but something about it is causing him anxiety. Something about seeing Tim in the suit, or maybe just another rendition of the suit, makes him want to explode and run and cry and scream. He's been biting it down all day because it's his problem not Tim's. He hates it but something about it is pulling him back to Amusement Mile. Something about it is pulling him back to the anti-fear drug and Cran'e reign. Something about it is making him feel so small and useless. He thought he was making progress but you're back at his home and he's never felt so disconnected from everything. He thinks it's so dumb to feel upset and panicky over this.

He swears it's fine.

"I'm gonna shower." Jason clears his throat before excusing himself to head off to his bedroom as quickly as he can, trying not to raise any alarms.

Your eyes linger on the doorway. Jason might as well have run out of the door with how quickly he excused himself. You heard a slight tremble in his voice. It was sharper than usual and his steps weren't as light as they usually are.

"Is he okay?" Tim asks as he walks over to grab the suitcase for his suit.

You look back at Tim and nod once. During your patrol, you could tell something switched. Jason's been in a good mood and pretty casual about everything, generally speaking. Being in a good mood and things going well always seemed to poke a hole into his head a bit. And today, out there doing your thing, he was quieter, more focused. He's always focused but this was laserlike almost and you're supposed to be helping Tim. You'd make some sort of quip and all you'd get is a disguised chuckle from behind his helmet. If you know anything, it's knowing Jason Todd is in fact, not fine.

"Yeah, no I'm sure he's fine." You brush it off, figuring you'll check on him in a few minutes. "I kept him up pretty late so he's just tired, probably." You nod again, Tim not buying any of it.

"He was up before you were." Tim states as he walks back over to you with his case. "It's not my business, just..." Tim shrugs dramatically, showing genuine concern for Jason's well-being.

Your eyes go to your boots and then back to him. "Yeah, uh...yeah." You nod your head. "I'll check on him in a few minutes. I'm sure he's fine, Tim." You offer him a fake smile.

Jason's head is spinning while his arms are practically vibrating themselves from his body. His muscles are going so weak he can barely turn the water on for a shower. The air is thick and stale through his lungs, burning with every breath. His stomach twists and his eyes start to water despite his best efforts to stop it. The world around him starts to feel like it's closing in and suffocating the life from his lungs. The shower pelts the porcelain flooring, he swears he can hear you and Tim talking and walking from down the hall. His heartbeat is radiating through his ear canals and the passing cars sound like they might drive right through his new home. Everything is growing louder and louder and the thoughts start to kick in. They take a battering ram to the walls and that's when he can't even bear to stand anymore.

Jason carries the heartbreak of death on his shoulders and it is crushing every part of him.

Tim leaves you to go change and you follow his lead, heading for a bathroom. You take your time, giving Jason enough time to gather himself if he needs to before you go to check on him. And for a second, you almost even second-guess it. You haven't spoken in a month and a half, you're just now trying this whole friend thing, is it really your place? When Tim leaves, will you just go back to not talking with no obligation in the middle of you? What if you're wrong anyway? Maybe Jason has changed a little bit in this time and maybe he was just more focused because a roof fell on all of you yesterday. You run yourself in circles, not wanting to overstep and mind his space. Jason always liked his personal space, maybe a little too much but you don't want to intrude. You always felt like you were just intruding in people's lives, a mismatched puzzle piece trying to make yourself fit. It's not what you want to do to him.

Being around him was one of the only places you felt like you belonged. And Jason was the one that always made you feel that way.

You make your way to Jason's room once you're in your regular clothes because you can't bear not to check on him. He would do it for you and you know him. Despite it all, you're certain you always know when something isn't quite right with him. So, you make your way to his room and let yourself inside, shutting the door behind you.

You can hear the shower echoing from the en suite bathroom. The door is closed but you're relieved that he's in the shower and not losing his entire mind in his bed. You look around his room some more and you wonder what else he plans to do with it. You think it must feel more like a home than the manor did. Back at the Tower, he had some stuff on the walls that he picked up because the room was his. He graffitied the walls. It was his and it felt like his. But, the room in the manor still had a poster of the Flying Graysons. Jason didn't decorate the walls, something that always made you sad because it should have felt like a home to him. You never asked but you wondered why it didn't. It couldn't have just been Bruce because of how Jason views him. So, you wonder if it was because maybe he didn't think he deserved the manor or maybe it was that he felt like a replacement and someone else would come in to replace him anyway. Maybe it was a safety precaution for his own feelings of being left behind. You aren't sure but you hope this place feels like a home and he gets to decorate his walls.

The shower is still echoing through the door but you can hear the water clearly, no disturbance or movement. Your brows pull together as you make your way to the bathroom and knock softly. You don't get any answer and you don't hear any movement behind the door.

"Jay?" You ask as you knock louder this time. A lump forms in your throat while your heartbeat starts to spike. Your stomach burns and your teeth grit together. You remember the day on the roof. "Jason, are you okay?" You call again and don't get anything in response.

Your hand goes to the door handle and you pause for a second. And it's just a second before you open the door slowly. You carefully peek your head around the door, your eyes landing on the walk-in shower. The frosted glass door is open while water ricochets onto the white tile floor. And then there's Jason. He's seated, fully clothed in the shower, his knees are tugged to his chest while his arms are wrapped entirely around his shins. His head is buried in his knees and all you can do is shake your head in devastation.

You walk inside and close the distance between you. You keep your stance from outside of the shower, trying to mind his personal space.

"Jay?" You try again and you get nothing from him. It's as if he doesn't even register you in the room which might be one of the biggest red flags when it comes to Jason Todd. He is nothing but on guard.

You walk back to the door and shut it, just in case. Then you kick off your shoes and tug your hoodie off your head before you close the distance between you again. This time, you enter the shower, immediately getting pelted by warm water as you kneel down right in front of him.

"Jay, hey." You call his name again but this time, your hands are delicate and careful as you put them on his cheeks. He jumps immediately, head hooting up with eyes terrified and red. He looks panicked for just a few seconds until his brain catches up with what he's seeing. Your teeth grind together seeing the look of pain across his face. It's written in every line and feature you'd fallen so in love with over the last year. Your hands come to his cheeks again, just as tender as they were before and he doesn't even flinch this time. "What's going on?" You ask softly. Jason shakes his head against your hands and his eyes dodge yours and he feels embarrassed and exposed. Of course, you'd find him.

You always find him.

You always see him.

"It's you and me." Your voice is careful as your thumbs run over his skin. "I'm worried about you. What happened?" You brush the white streak of hair from his face.

"Loud." Jason's voice comes out hoarse and small and his bottom lip trembles. It takes every muscle in his body not to let out a sob.

"Okay." You nod your head once, the look of worry almost permanently etched into your features. If Jason had the strength, he'd push you away just to get you to stop worrying so much. He doesn't deserve it. You don't deserve it. "What happened?" You ask quietly, the water now completely soaking your hair.

Jason offers the weakest shrug you have ever seen. "Don't know." Why do you want to help him? Can't you see the monster he's become? His lip starts to tremble again as he tries to get a breath in but the tears are coming back and he can't breathe out of his nose. The water is dripping into his mouth and he almost thinks it'd be easier to just drown right here.

Not a day goes by that you aren't worried about him. It doesn't matter if you haven't spoken. It wouldn't matter if you hated him, as if that were even possible. You'd worry about him because Jason Todd has done everything to be enough. He has done everything to be happy and somehow, he's still the one sitting in a shower in tears because the world around him is suffocating. Yes, the whole Robin thing was worrisome. The whole Red Hood thing is worrisome. He gets shot out for fun. He taunts people because he thinks it's fun. Someone else is going to kill him one day, that much is certain. And while that is worrisome, you've also seen the damage people he loves have caused him. It doesn't have to be physical damage because Jason's own brain wants to torture him and it uses everyone else's words as some sort of infinite ammo. The vigilante thing is worrisome, but where Jason's head is, that's the real thing that's worrying.

It wouldn't matter if you hated each other, you would rip every false and cruel thought that ever crosses his mind.

You let go of his face and move your hands to his. You're careful, lightly pulling his hands apart and away from his legs. Once his legs are free, you move to the side and lightly press on his knees until his legs are stretched out in front of him. The whole thing is making Jason watch you with careful eyes and it's almost a distraction and then you climb on top of him. You straddle his lap, Jason's eyes never leaving you and it almost causes him more panicky. He might know you better than he knows himself, but he very rarely knows what you'll do in moments like these. But then, you don't say anything. All you do is wrap your arms around his neck and pull him for a hug.

Jason tenses up just as he's done before but after a few seconds, a part of him relaxes against you. He gathers a full breath into his lungs and it's as if he's giving his body permission to lose it all again, in the comfort of you. His arms wrap around your middle and his grip is so tight as he lets out a sob, you can't breathe. You think you'd suffocate if it allowed him any type of relief.

It is all just too much. The weight on his chest is too heavy and he doesn't think he can carry it. He goes out and he murders people. They may be very bad people but it's what he does and he thinks about how Bruce is so mad about it. He tries to be understanding but they will never come to an understanding over it. It will be a matter of time before Jason ends up an enemy to Batman and by default, an enemy to Bruce. What makes what Jason is doing different than what the Joker did to him? To Jason, Batman and Robin were the Joker's enemies, right? And he took care of a problem, the same way Jason is taking care of problems. Jason might not be the instigator in it, but he's doing the same crime. Was Bruce right about it? Is he any different than the Joker?

Most days, it is a thing that he lives with. It's for the greater good and his soul is already damaged, it's already the property of something that isn't quite him anymore. It's always just waiting in an in-between for his second round at death. He does it so other people won't have to. He does it so other people won't feel like him or you or Bruce or Dick or Molly or any of them. He does it to help because people get forgotten. That's what he tells himself but right now, he can't quite figure out if that's really the right thing. He doesn't know what else he's supposed to do. If this isn't supposed to be the answer, then what is? What if it isn't and he can't come back from it anyway? His hands are already stained with so much blood.

And because of that, he falls back into his routine way of thinking. He is damaged. He is broken and scarred, physically and mentally now. Everything around him crumbles at his feet. He tries so fucking hard to be something that's easy to swallow and digest but he fucks that up, too because no one really expects him to be like that. He breaks everyone around him and all he does is hurt people. They try to offer him love and kindness and he bites through it like a rabid coyote. He is undeserving. Someone who is deserving doesn't push and they don't hurt people for being kind. They don't destroy people. That's all he has ever done.

And then he fucking died. It might have been scary and traumatizing but there was a moment, right before everything went dark where he accepted his fate. That would be it. No one else would have to suffer for his mistakes. He was going to die and some people might be sad for a little bit, but they would move on. And he wouldn't fuck up their lives anymore. And he wouldn't suffer anymore.

The ache in his bones would be gone and the voice would be quiet. All of the pain he's dealt with would just be...gone. He would take his last breath, and that would be it. He has hurt for so long that there was a moment where he accepted his fate, that it might just be better and easier this way. He did not want to die and he wishes he were able to have put up a fight but in that single second, he accepted it.

That feeling lingers with him today. He accepted it and as brought back. The reaper won't leave him alone, tugging at his lungs and his bones. It's not forceful, just a casual reminder of what's waiting for him one day. It's a feeling in his stomach that feels like the start of an ulcer. Just there, waiting for the right moment. And he saw the look Dick gave him when he saw Red Hood was Jaosn. He did not seem happy. You were at first pissed about it. No one really seemed too happy at first when he came back. He interrupted your grieving process and then interrupted everything else. He dies with the ache in his bones and the guilt because he has no choice but he swears he won't do this again.

He put a bomb in his helmet as a failsafe.

You pull his thoughts back to you as you press a kiss to his temple. "You're gonna be okay, Jay."

"I'm not!" Jason yells through a whine as he pulls away, his eyes on you. His chest is heaving as he pants for some sort of air. "I'm never gonna be fucking fine."

Why does the world treat him so cruelly? Can't it see that he is good? Can't it see that he has always been enough? Can't it see that Jason Todd has been through enough? He has suffered enough. You would fight the universe with your bare fucking hands if that's what it took for it to understand that he is done suffering.

"You will be." You nod your head at him as your hands come to the side of his neck. Your thumbs trace his jawline. "And you don't have to do this shit alone." You urge. "I told you, if I'm alive then you are never alone and I mean it. I don't care." You shrug harshly. "It's gonna be okay." You want to kiss him until he believes you. You want to kiss all of his hurt away, scare it away so far away that it never comes back. You want to kiss him as hard as you can so maybe he'll believe, once more, that he is worthy and he's gonna be okay and he is never fucking alone if you're breathing.

"I-I just want to stop." His voice has never sounded so defeated as he rests his head against your chest.

"I know." You whisper, your hand moving to the back of his head as you run your hand through the wet strands of black hair. "It will, you just gotta give it some time, Jay." Your voice is steady and calm, disguising the pain in your chest. "You've been through a lot."

Jason picks his head up, his green eyes are dark and miserable. Completely broken. "I died." Jason chokes out.

"Yeah." You nod once as Jason watches something devastating rip through your eyes. "Someone should have been there to protect you." You wish it would have been you. It should have been you to protect him.

Jason shakes his head and he lets out this chuckle that almost falls into another sob. "Maybe I was better off dead." He says it in one breath, all flat and sincere. "Look what I've become."

"No." You say sternly because he doesn't get to do this to himself again. He has prevented you from this exact spiral more times than you can count and he doesn't even know it. It's your job to make sure you repay the favor that was never really a favor. "You deserve to be alive." Jason catches a subtle break in your tone. "You became something that everyone was too fucking cowardly to become. You save people." You nod firmly. "Do you know how many people you've saved as Red Hood?" You ask.

"Not fucking many." Jason lets out a huff.

"Three hundred and two." You answer right back.

Jason's eyes widen and he is so certain you're making that up. "What?"

"Three hundred and two." You repeat. "There was a domino effect, too. I didn't actually count that because it would be like... impossible but I did account for some of them. A guy was gonna blow blow up the museum but you stopped him the day before he had a chance. So, you saved every person that would have been there. You've stolen how many guns from Black Mask? I mean just think of how many people you saved because you took those guns? Domino effect. Of course, there was the apartment fire last week which I don't know, Jay. You're not a firefighter but you still went into it and saved a whole family then went back and saved their cat."

Jason's eyes burn and sting as he stares at you in disbelief and confusion. The water pelts him and it's the first time he realizes it's going a little cold. Why the fuck do you know that? Why are you keeping track? Jason doesn't even believe you. You have no reason to keep track of how many people he's saving. It's his doing and it has nothing to do with you. There is no reason for it. You're just telling him this shit to make him feel better even if that's never been something you've done.

You don't lie to him.

Jason didn't think you'd start so soon and he did do those things. The Gazette wrote a few articles about it though and Molly knew. Maybe that's how you knew but your eyes are soft and your fingers are idly playing with the wet strands at the base of his neck. Why are you keeping tabs on him when you never called?

"W-why the fuck do you know that?" Jason finally gets the words out and you can't tell if he's actually mad about it or concerned.

You hope he's just concerned.

You shrug and offer him a small but cheeky smile. "Cause I do." You suck in a breath. "Have my ways."

The very corner of Jason's mouth tugs upwards just barely at the thought that you're really keeping tabs on him, outside of hearing from your friends. If it were anyone else, he'd be pissed. He can take care of himself despite what this situation might look like to an outsider. He can take care of himself and he doesn't need people worrying about him and keeping tabs just to be disappointed or mad. Jason Todd has never needed anyone but you keeping tabs on him both as Jason Todd and Red Hood is different because you only do it for people you care about. You weren't talking and you still kept up with what he was doing. It makes him wonder why because you could have called. You could have asked yourself and maybe that makes the tiniest smile fall.

Jason didn't call either.

"Keeping tabs on me?" Jason asks with a rough but quiet voice, his brows pulling together.

Not keeping up with him feels impossible. As much as you're beating yourself up for everything and as much as a part of you doesn't think you deserve anything with him at all, there was always a part of you that knew you needed to keep up. Molly and Gar might know what he's doing as himself but Jason's going to keep them away from Red Hood as much as he can. Somewhere inside your stomach, you knew you'd find your way back into each other's lives one way or another. You just wanted to know what he was doing and if he were okay. The only thing you want is for him to be okay and killing people is not the easiest thing in the world, despite what it might look like sometimes. So, you've been keeping up with him just in case.

He's important to you, of course you keep tabs on him.

"I know you're keeping tabs on me, too." You whisper back to him, the cheeky smile completely gone from your lips.

Sometimes Molly will ask an odd question, something she either shouldn't know about or something off-handed. All of the Titans would just ask you which means the only person in Molly's ear is Jason. And you know damn well Molly is smart enough to know you'd figure it out. You just don't say anything. You give Molly the answer and Molly updates you on Jason's things. Okay, so she's a little in the middle of you and Jason but Molly knows you're both mostly asking about each other because you're worried. It is so stupid and you're so emotionally stunted, but it'd drive you both crazy not to know.

Jason just needs to know you're okay.

"Maybe." Jason finally gets a grin onto his lips because you knowing without saying anything until now makes his heart swell. Even apart, you just can't help yourselves.

"Exactly." You let out a soft laugh.

Jason nods a few times, his smile turning gentle. "Why, uh, why do you know that though? How many people?" Jason asks and he finds himself resting his hands on your hips as if on instinct.

"Helps." You answer casually. "Keeping track of everyone you kill and everyone you save by killing, it helps. Keep track of mine, too so...I kept track of yours...just in case." You clear your throat, dodging his eyes. "Know how you are and stuff so...uh, yeah, just...knowing it does help...helps on days where it feels like this might be worse." You explain softly. "It's not...by the way." You clarify. "Greater good but yeah...uh, yeah, you know sometimes it's a lot to carry."

The way you word it makes Jason's heart burn. His hands grip your hips a little tighter and he remembers the night outside of Jerry's. You nearly beat him to death and everything was still heavy. It was still a lot to carry and Jason told you to put it on him. When it gets too hard to carry, put it on him because he can carry the weight of it for you. You swore you'd do the same for him and Jason wonders when you seemed to lose that.

He knows. Deep down he knows because it haunts him in his sleep. That night outside of Excellent Gotham when you were finally done absolutely destroyed him. He knows that was the night you both lost everything. That he lost everything. He had almost gotten you, Tim, and Mr. Drake killed and you couldn't do it anymore. Jason still doesn't blame you even if it makes him want to lose his mind to guilt and regret all over again. It hurts because he always felt so secure with you but then that happened and it was like everything he ever had finally collapsed at his feet. An earthquake disguised in the words of "you win. I can't do it anymore. I'm done." crumbled his foundation. Your love had been wilting away ever since he came back and that was the day it all finally fell apart.

He wishes he could take it back. He wants what you had back.

"Still will carry some of the weight for you, Jay." You suck in a breath.

Can the wilting process be reversed? Can it be rebuilt? Or is it tarnished forever? Or can you rebuild something better? If Jason committed now again, would it be better? Could you get a fair fucking chance at this time?

Jason grinds his teeth thinking that he wants you. After all of this and you are still willing to be soaking wet in your clothes in a shower with him and carry the weight of devestation for him when it's too much for him. He is endlessly and hopelessly in love with you. He wants you. He wants what you had before and he wants to rebuild it. Somehow, some way, that is what he wants and fuck if he thinks he deserves it or not because you wouldn't be here if you didn't feel the same way.

Jason leans his forehead against yours. "You can still put it on me." Jason whispers softly and you gain a soft and subtle smile.

You don't know it, but Jason is entirely committed to you. Maybe you won't want to try again and Jason can't even blame you. It was a fucking shitshow and he died and you almost died. It was a fucking disaster. Maybe you weren't, but your worlds burned around the both of you and charred you both in the process. Maybe you won't want to and that's fine. But, Jason wants to try it all one more time, banter and games and then falling into something. It might not have worked the first time, but it'll be different this time. He's so sure of it and he is so sure of you. He just wants to find his footing and allow you to find yours first and then, even if it makes him want to throw himself through a window, he'll start the conversation.

You pull away, resting your hands on his cheeks. "Why don't we get up, get dry, and I can stay if you want me to?"

He always wants you to stay.

"Ya don't have to if you don't want to." Jason offers even though he knows you will anyway.

"I know." You smile softly at him before you scrunch your nose at him. "Guess you're just stuck with me."

Jason lets himself laugh. There's no such thing as being stuck with you. You don't get stuck to people and you make sure people don't get stuck to you. He is not stuck, it is always a pleasure to have you around. Even when it's hard.

Sorting yourselves out is for the best. It hurts the both of you more than words could possibly describe and a part of that does not feel it's for the best. It feels, somehow, more complicated now than it did before. It's as if you've both forgotten how to walk around each other and that part feels wrong. You both strolled right into each other's lives before and made yourselves right at home as if it were always meant to be that way. Being a part and sorting yourselves has left this gap between you that you're not sure how to build a bridge back. But it's for the best because you can't be together and offer each other the care you deserve if you're too busy dealing with your own traumas while trying to help the other one. It's a little too much to throw in a romance. It sucks and Jason knows it.

"Thanks."

"Of course." You get up, leaning over and turning the shower off finally.

You offer your hands to Jason and help him to his feet. The both of you are completely drenched and it makes Jason laugh. Your hair is soaked, the small bit of eyeliner is running down your cheeks and your t-shirt sags pathetically over you. You stick your tongue out at him and then laugh with him. He doesn't look much better than you do so you laugh, heartily and loud, the booms bouncing off of the tile surrounding you. It's all a little ridiculous.

"Why are you laughing?" You ask as you gasp for a breath.

"You look like a drowned rat." Jason bellows before he grabs the two towels from the towel bars.

"Fuck you!" You yell before sucking in a laugh and catching the towel from Jason. "So do you!"

"I know!" Jason agrees with you which only makes you laugh more and he thinks you're still the prettiest person he's ever met.

His laughing subsides first and turns into something soft and tender while you just smile at him before rolling your eyes. Jason wides his eyes to mock you and then he turns around. He rests his towel on the counter beside him before stripping down to his boxers and you can't help but watch. You're starting to feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as you grow colder but the sight of Jason Todd stripping down? That is not a sight to be missed.

He's somehow more toned now than he was before. The muscles of his back flex with every movement as he dries himself off. The Lazarus pit healed his face and the other injuries he sustained from the Joker but it didn't get rid of his previous scars. The one from his dad is still there and the other one from a fight on the streets. You still like how they look on him. Proof that he is alive. And the only thing you want to do is wrap your arms around him and kiss up his shoulder blades.

You almost do it.

Your feet almost move and you can almost feel how his skin will be warm against yours. He'll straighten his stance at first and then he'll relax. His hands will come up to your arms and a chuckle will fall from his lips the second you place the first kiss between his shoulder blades. You both would be happy.

You almost move.

But it's not your place anymore.

So, you will yourself to turn around and strip down just as he did, leaving you in just your bra and underwear to get as dry as you can. Jason peaks over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of your back to him. He could feel you practically boring into his back and he's relieved you turned around. It wouldn't normally bother him but he'd have to turn around eventually and he wasn't in for that conversation at the moment. But, he offers a glance, catching the raised lines of scars through your back, something that still boils Jason's blood.

Your scars never bothered him. Proof that you fight like hell to make it out alive. But, it pisses him off because what the fuck did you ever do to deserve the mistreatment? Nothing in this world justifies the horrors you went through and the fact you have to bear the scars for the rest of your life as if the haunting memories weren't enough. Jason gets it more than anyone, especially now. And all he wants to do is pull you into him, litter kisses across your face until you burst at the seams with laughter because you're happy. At least if you're laughing you're happy and that's what you deserve. To be happy.

Jason shakes his head and says he'll be back with some dry clothes before he darts out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He takes a few minutes to get some dry clothes on himself, making sure he's covered with a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His body starts to warm up almost immediately from the clothes and then he rummages through his things looking for something for you to wear. He grabs a pair of boxers for you, sweatpants that he only kept because they fit you better, and a red t-shirt.

When Jason gets back to the bathroom, you're seated on the toilet seat with the towel wrapped around you, cutting off just above your breasts. Jason offers you a smirk because who are the both of you if you aren't going to do this whole banter thing?

"Wanna give me a show?" Jason quips.

You snap your attention to him, seeing a pile of clothes in his hands and him now fully clothed. "No, fuck you." You chortle back as you get to your feet.

"But I'm sad." Jason gives you the fakest pout you've ever seen.

"You're still obnoxious." You quip, gesturing with one hand to get the clothes from Jason.

Jason keeps his smirk. "Better than shithead."

"Shithead." You beam up at him, still waiting for him to hand over the clothes.

"Babe." Jason laughs before handing over the clothes.

You smile back at him with the roll of your eyes. "Maybe I'd have given you one if you gave me one." You blink up at him and Jason knows damn well this is a trap.

"In your dreams." Jason holds his confidence.

You shrug, deciding to play the game. It is always the most fun that way. "Those are my best dreams."

Jason feels his cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. "Don't have just be dreams, babe."

"You fucking wish."

"If I did?" Jason quips without missing a fucking beat.

"I know you do." You roll your eyes and he knows he's won. "Turn the fuck around or get out."

Jason lets out a laugh before he leaves you to get changed, closing the door behind him. "I'm right out here if you change your mind about the show."

"Fuck you!" You yell before Jason hears you laugh behind the door.

Jason leans against his dresser, tugging out his phone to see what he's missed. He has a few texts from Gar, mostly just TikToks and one asking how things are going. Jason decides he'll respond later, not in the mood much for explaining that one. There's a text from Dick asking how Tim is doing and Jason replies that it's going fine, not offering any further explanation. He knows damn well Dick sent the same text to you and you'll elaborate more. There isn't much else on his phone so he goes to his gallery, a habit he can't quite break.

He hasn't deleted a single photo of him and you from his phone. It's an endless and helpless bit of hope that it'll be you and him at the end of this. And these are pictures from a better time because even when he was dealing with the shit from Deathstroke, at least you were both happy. Everything still seemed so simple compared to how it feels today. It feels like years have passed since you were in your bed changing your lock screens to matching pictures. It's as if you've lost your last bit of innocence in those few weeks of terror and agony. Jason figures that's just a consequence of endless trauma. He grieves for the kids you should have been allowed to be. Innocent and dumb and stubborn and carefree. He grieves for the people you both were in the pictures on his phone.

The door opens, tugging Jason's attention up and away from his phone before he pockets it. A tender smile pulls at his lips as you walk out in his clothes, he swore they always look better on you anyway. You have a pile of clothes in your hand, topped with the black towel. You walk right up to him, standing just a few inches from him and beam up at him before you offer the stack to him.

Jason tilts his head back with a laugh before he pushes off the dresser. "Am I your fucking maid now?" He quirks his brows at you.

"I don't think you want me to answer that." You laugh right back and it's something airy and warm.

Jason shakes his head. "Fuck you."

"If you ask nicely." You fire right back and you watch the subtle tint of surprise fade over his face. You let out a snicker before Jason deadpans. "It is still so much fun to fuck with you, Jay."

Jason isn't the only one chasing the innocence of a few months ago. You can feel it, too. It's dark now. Something heavy is lingering in the air everywhere you go. You hate how it feels and ignoring it doesn't do you any good but what else is there to do? At the very least, the way Jason laughs still makes you smile. At the very least, the way he laughs makes the air not feel so heavy anymore. The banter makes things feel a little bit better because at least you're talking, at least you're still on the same page. At least it's still him and you.

"Give me your damn shit." Jason grumbles through a smile while you do as told through a laugh. "Just...wait here." Jason stutters for a second before he darts out of the room.

You make your way to his bed and sit down, your hand landing on his pillow. There's something hard under it and while it isn't your business, you pick up the pillow anyway. Jason keeps a gun under his pillow and the smile evaporates in a second. You know why he does it but...it's the reality of it. The heaviness of always having a weapon at the ready even when it dangers your own life. To live in fear. To live always on guard. It's not fair.

Your heart aches for him. Even after everything, he deserves better. He has always deserved better but now he's stuck here dealing with the monstrosities he was manipulated into doing and dealing with dying. It's all not fair and you wish you knew what you could do to make it better.

You carefully grab the gun, checking the safety and you're relieved he's at least keeping the safety on. You rest it beside you before you look on the other side of the bed, not seeing any other weapons. You'd hope you would have noticed last night or this morning if he had anything out in the open. But, Jason wouldn't which makes you wonder where else he's hiding his weapons.

"What're you doing?" Jason's voice brings your attention back to him.

"Why, uh, w-why do you keep a gun under your pillow?" You ask.

Jason's teeth grind against each other, knowing he can't lie about it. He moved it last night when you weren't paying attention. He'd never have you sleep in a bed when it could go off. But, by the way you asked, that's not why you're asking. You don't even sound mad but Jason is embarrassed anyway. Exposed again, twice in one night because of course he keeps weapons at the ready. He needs to be prepared for anything. Joker took care of the job once already and Jason has been doing a great job in making more enemies than friends these days. He keeps his guard up at all times so he doesn't get beaten to death again.

"I put it there." Jason states, stuffing his hands into his pockets, practically gluing his feet to the floor. Maybe if he doesn't move, you won't ask any more questions.

You blink at him a few times. "Yeah...I-I knew that?" You question him. "That's fucking stupid, you know that?" You ask with the nod of your head. "You might have the safety on but what if it goes off?"

"Look, it's not a fucking thing. You don't have to make it one." Jason shakes his head, gesturing a leisured hand towards you, trying to brush it off as much as he can.

You roll your eyes before you get up, gun in hand with the barrel facing the floor. "I'm not judging you for it. I get it." You shrug your shoulder as you hand the weapon to him.

Jason holds it in his hand, grip tight while he watches you go to your bag. His brows furrow as you start digging into your backpack. You pull out a switchblade, metallic blue shining against the low light of his room. You walk back over to his bed and put the knife under his pillow.

"It's locked so it shouldn't open on you while you're asleep. Just don't lose that one, I like that one." You roll your shoulders, eyes locked on his. "I got those from Bruce so they're good for throwing." You explain as you swallow thickly and you can see Jason wanting to fight you on it, defend himself but he doesn't need to. Jason Todd never needs to defend himself against you. "I have one under my pillow, too." You say quietly while you watch Jason's face soften and his shoulders relax.

Being with you was always the place he never felt judged for anything, even the blood staining his hands.

"Thank you." Jason takes a few steps forward, finally unsticking his feet from the wooden floorboards. "Don't have to look after me, though." Jason says it simply, a hint of hurt in his voice. He takes a seat beside you. "Not your job anymore." Jason's eyes are dark and sad, something tugging his thoughts back to a place they shouldn't be.

"I know." You say quietly. "It was never a job in the first place." Your eyes go to your hands and Jason can feel the lump in his throat growing again but this time, for the love he thinks he lost from you. Or the love he thought he lost. "You're still my favorite person." You whisper back to him and you don't know why you say it. You only know that it's true and it's always been true. Maybe he just needs to know it's still you and him.

"Still?" Jason asks, his eyes searching over your face for any indication that you're going to throw out some quip.

"Mhm." You hum with a subtle nod.

Jason looks to his hands in his lap and he misses you more than words could possibly describe. He misses your honesty and your care and your quips and the snark. He misses every aspect of you and he is so in love with you. He thought, for just a second, maybe that feeling would fade. Time would pass and it would fade, especially lately. You'd meet again and maybe it would be so different that he wouldn't feel like his heart would burst from his ribcage at the sight of you. You always deserved better than him anyway. After everything he put you through, you deserve better than that but he can tell by how you stutter and tug at your sleeves, the way your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes after the last bit of banter, you aren't entirely happy. Being with him, for some reason he'll never understand, made you happy. And being with you always made him happy. You're sitting here and it's as if his very heart is trying to climb through his chest to get to yours. He is still so endlessly in love with you.

"I miss you." He says it quietly, looking back to you and he wishes he could tell you the other eight letters but..that all seems a little too honest and a little unfair. He doesn't expect you to say it back.

Every day you wake up and you love him. Every day you wake up and you miss him. Today was the first day in two months, you didn't miss him. You didn't miss him because he was down the hall. You didn't miss him because he was here and so were you. Today was the first day in two months, your chest didn't ache with the thought of him. You miss him, too and you miss his smile and his laugh and the new addition of the white streak of hair. You miss his sarcasm and his ability to turn anything into some sort of joke. You always miss him. And you are endlessly in love with him.

"I miss you, too." You whisper back, eyes locking on his.

The haunted words of 'I love you' scrape down your throat, knowing it's not your place to say them. It's too honest, too vulnerable, too exposed. It's too much for both of you and it's not fair to put that on him. It's not fair to put it on him because you aren't sure what you'd do if he knew. It's agonizing swallowing the words. You have felt more at home today than you have in two months. Jason deserves to know you still love him despite it all but you can't say it.

The room falls silent, the air between you growing humid and thick. Tonight was a bad night. They happen sometimes. Sometimes the weight of it all drags Jason down and he can't pick himself up. But you walk right in and don't even hesitate. You always know what to do and you never even question it. Tonight was a bad night but you were here and he is thankful for you. He's coming into himself as Red Hood, knowing, most nights, that what he's doing is for the greater good. He's getting along with Bruce and they're actually trying for once. He sees Leslie once a week. He is trying, making a solid effort to move past everything that's ever made him feel like a burden. It's the forgiving himself for what happened that drags him down.

Everyone was right. It was his choice to go to Crane. He didn't have to. Sure, maybe it wasn't really him while he was high, but it was. It was him making that choice to keep taking it, it was his choice to ignore every single offer you ever made to bring him back just because he was pissed and stubborn and he felt abandoned. So many people have suffered because of what he did under Crane's control. It may not have been the real him but he still did it. And that's a very difficult thing to forgive himself for. And it only ever gets worse when you're involved because you were the one person who never even thought about giving up on him until you were given no other choice. It's a very hard thing to forgive himself for but he is trying.

Leslie says he needs to learn to forgive himself, everyone else has forgiven him and that should mean something.

He's trying.

He's trying to forgive himself and be better. He is trying to accept the care and kindness of others without second guessing their motives or when they'll up and leave.

He's trying not to push.

"I..." Jason stutters. "I really miss you." Jason says again, hoping you get it because he can't stand to not have you in his life anymore.

Your face softens as your heart shatters through your chest. You forgave him for everything the second it all happened. Sometimes, you can feel yourself upset about some of it but it's just the grief kicking in again. The grief of everything you both lost the second he made the decision to go to Crane. It is the one decision he has made that you don't understand but you aren't Jason. You weren't Robin. You weren't stripped of the most important thing to you, of your identity. Not like Jason was. And you forgive him anyway because Jason doesn't like to hurt people. Especially people he cares about. Pushing has always been a way to hurt himself, not other people. You forgive him for everything even if he doesn't know it.

You wish it were different so you wouldn't be suffering through the pain of missing each other. It doesn't seem very fair, especially tonight.

You know what he means.

"I really miss you, too." Your voice is honest and Jason thinks you even sound scared, a reminder of how he sounded the first time things got a little too real with your feelings. Those words hold the same meaning that they do for Jason. Everything you're both too scared to say tonight.

You lean forward, resting your forehead on his shoulder and you know your heart will only ever belong to him. It'll always be safe with him. Jason's eyes soften as he looks down at you and instead of making some quip or joke, he lets you sit in the moment. He rests his cheek against your head and all he wants to do is kiss you. This isn't easy for you either.

You lift your head and Jason's eyes are big and green, the prettiest shade of green you've ever seen. He is still the only thing you have ever wanted. He will always be the only thing you'll ever want. And Jason can feel it, too, like an invisible string tugging you together in every universe, in every timeline. You are the only thing he has ever wanted. You are the only thing he will ever want.

Jason hopes you know he feels it, too so he rests his forehead against yours first this time. Your eyes close as your shoulders relax and Jason finally lets out a breath before his eyes close. He'll never ask because that's too soon into whatever this friendship is going to be but he's hoping you stay awhile. Stays past morning tomorrow and into the night. You don't have to talk about any of it, he just wants you to stay and he wants to stay just like this because it's the safest he's felt in two months. And it's like a reflex, embedded deep into his DNA, he brushes his nose against yours as he feels your breath fan over his lips.

You match him but instead, you brush your lips against his. You haven't kissed him in a month and a half yet it feels like it's been an entire century. Kissing him has always washed away every doubt and ounce of sadness you've ever had. Him kissing you has always made you feel wanted, the two of you against the world. That's how it should have been and that's how it should be now. You want to kiss him so badly you think you might burst into tears. Life was always better with him in it. You want to kiss him to show him that even if you can't be together, you still love him with every ounce of your existence.

Jason's head starts to spin and he holds his breath. He's thrown right back to that time in the manor when you told him to prove it. You said it and he never put in a single thought after that. He took the leap and he thinks it was one of the best decisions he's ever made. That kiss sealed your fate together, even for just that short time. It brought you to him in a way he didn't think he'd ever be lucky enough to have. Being with you made him feel lucky for the first time in a very long time.

Maybe you can do this again. Maybe the way for you to do anything is to tiptoe into it. It didn't work last time but it wasn't for lack of trying. It was Jason who fucked it up but it had nothing to do with you and him. Maybe falling back into each other is how it's supposed to be. Maybe you could fix it all. It's just lonely without you. He's terrified but your lips brush over his again and you're making the first move this time. You can still quiet every horrible thought he's ever had. He loves you with every ounce of his very existence.

Jason brings his hand to your cheek, running his thumb over your cheek. Your skin is always soft under his callused fingers. He thought maybe you'd back out because you do that. You run from everything, you back out, it's all a joke and that's that. It would be incredibly painful but...you don't. You lean into him instead. So, Jason finally closes the bit of distance between you and brings his lips to yours.

You smile against him and Jason can breathe again. He can breathe again as you kiss him back and your mouth moves with his. This might be a one-time thing but that's okay because even if it's just for this moment, you choose him. And he chooses you. You will always choose each other. In the chaos of your lives, somehow, you find your way back right here with your hands pulling the collar of his shirt closer to you and his hands on your cheeks. You choose each other anyway. Despite the pain and heartbreak and chaos and all of the terrible, horrible, thoughts, you choose each other. Even if it is just for a moment, Jason decides to take the second leap and he wants this moment to last as long as you will let it. If you'll have him.

Jason moves his hands to your hips, giving them a squeeze before he tugs you closer to him. You get the hint and without breaking the kiss, you move to straddle his lap, Jason guiding you down. His hands squeeze your hips and he tugs you as close to him as possible while your hands find their way to his shoulders and then the back of his neck. Your fingers tangle in the damp hair at the base of his neck. The kiss grows sloppy and desperate, teeth clanking against each other and it is the most cathartic feeling the both of you have had in a long time.

It is healing parts of you both you didn't think possible. Normally, it's Jason questioning your feelings because why would you ever love him after all the damage he's done? But, it's you questioning that as you kiss him with everything in you. You're just like everyone else, why would he forgive you for that? Why would he kiss you like he's still hopelessly in love with you? You broke a promise to him and he's still here and you have no idea why. But, tonight, you're going to allow yourself to be thankful. All that matters right now is that you're here, together, just him and you.

Jason swears you have left a permanent make spelling out your name across his heart and Jason wouldn't have any other name in your place. And a part of him thinks you know, too. It's as if it glows and heats up the center of his chest whenever you're around. It's like his heart becomes a beacon of light on the top of a lighthouse the second you kiss him. You make him feel alive again and he doesn't have to feel so alone when you're here.

You feel so at home with him. Every piece of paranoia that's been coursing through you fades away and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, with Jason you're safe. After everything, he will always protect you. You will always protect him. You're tied together even if you don't want to admit it to each other. You've ruined each other for anyone that would ever come after and the both of you have never been so thankful.

Jason pulls away, his chest heaving as his eyes open slowly. Your eyes meet his slowly, pupils lust-blown and you have a loving and lazy smile spread across your lips. He thinks he could do this all night long.

He gains his signature smirk. "Did I win that time?" Jason's eyes glance to your lips.

You deadpan and shake your head. You expect absolutely nothing less from him. "Shut the fuck up."

Jason lets out the warmest chortle you've ever heard. "That's a yes."

"Just shut up and kiss me." You groan before colliding your lips with his.

You can feel him grin wildly against your lips before he falls right back into rhythm with you.

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[secretlywritingstories]

I am turning 30 today, which is the first "big" birthday since I turned 18 more than a decade ago.

Objectively, there's nothing special about this birthday compared to the one I had last year or the one I'll have next year. But it turns into something special because we assign meaning to it, and honestly, I can't really be mad about that.

I like that we as humans make all sorts of intricate rituals throughout our lives, like choosing to celebrate birthdays and even making some of them more of a big deal because you're entering a new decade. It's fun if you make it fun.

As a child, I thought someone who was 30 would officially be a Proper Adult. Looking at my own parents as examples, it was the year that they got married after a decade together and they would be having their first child (me!) about a year later. Very adult stuff.

It was supported by the view of society too, where you are meant to find a partner, settle down, get a job and a house, and start trying to have children. Especially that last one if you were born as a girl, since obviously the biological clock starts ticking real loud when you hit the big 3.0.

Thankfully, I don't feel that way anymore. I guess it isn't that surprising when you look at how my life is at the moment. I have never had a long-term partner, and while I wouldn't mind having someone next to me in my life, I also can do okay on my own. I've got the steady job, but I rent my apartment. And children are not really something I can image committing to, and as such I am freed from that particular "universal" stressor.

Oh, and I'm queer both in terms of sexuality and gender. I think that's part of the veering off from the hetero-normative constraints that are thought to be imposed on me by reaching this age. It has been confusing at times, but I am so thankful to know this about myself now.

And I have so much good in my life, even if it doesn't necessarily look how I would have thought it was "supposed" to look like when I reached this age. I have a wonderful family, absolutely incredible friends (a lot for more than a decade and also from all over the world! how lucky can I be?), my horse Moneypenny and the family dogs. I like my job and my colleagues that I have to spend so many hours with. I'm financially stable and able to take care of myself well.

I have written and shared so, so many stories, and coming out at about 4 million words total across them all. And I have so many more stories to tell, even if I don't know what they'll be yet. That's the exciting part!

I don't have a 5 or a 10 year plan. I never really did, so I don't think I'll start now. Who cares anyway? Time will pass no matter what I plan, and life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. So many of the good things in my life has been a string of coincidences that have placed me on this path and I am quite liking the view.

Still, I'll take this chance to celebrate life, on this supposed big birthday. Being happy that I now have three decades on me and know the bulk still lies ahead of me. I'll surround myself with loved ones, have an excuse to connect with people who reach out with birthday wishes, and just spend the day well.

And frankly, I think the 30s are only going to get better than my 20s.

[supercriminalbean]

Tic tic tick!

Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

Summary: Reader suffers from a tick attack and Aaron is there to help after a bad day.

Warning: Tick attack (could say Tourette's syndrome if you like) Crying, pain, exhaustion. (Let me know what I have missed) Also this is not read through my bad.

A/N: Today sucked. I have never had a tick attack last that long without even 5 minute break it was 7 hours and I'm in pain and exhausted and just want to be held by Aaron so I wrote this. The reason I didn't label my reader as having Tourette's syndrome is because you can suffer tick attack due to different reasons and I want everyone who suffers from them to feel valid. I wrote mostly tics that I suffer from because I'm projecting. So I hope everyone is okay I love you all.

The day started out fine, hell in fact it was a great day. Work was going great, laughing away with your coworkers as they teased you like usual. But it all only lasted a couple of hours and then you ticked. A small ticking

attack causes you to hide in the walk in freezer for a few moments as you hope it would pass, of course it doesn't. In fact it gets worse and after a few moments you reappear, joining your coworker once more as you tick away. You hate ticking at work, the pain your body produces as well as the judgemental stares from customers. You're lucky you have the best coworkers and manager who allow you to hide out the back and do jobs as the ticks take over.

~~~

"(Y/n), it's been hours why don't you just go home" Kylie your manager suggests as you stand in the back office, tears welling in your eyes as you tick away.

"okay, I'm sorry" A small whimper leaves you as your head flies backwards wacking against your neck again.

"Don't be, take some pills you look in pain and just rest" She smiles sympathetically at you, she's seen you have many tic attacks before but never one that has last over 4 hours.

"I will, thank you" You force a smile as you keep ticing away. You make your way to your car, tears welling in your eyes as you tick away pain spreading across your body as it jerks sharply.

~~~

Hours pass by and the front door opens alot earlier than you expected. Meaning your boyfriend somehow had an early day and is now going to find you in bed instead of at work. You are snuggled up tightly in bed under your weighted blanket, your body jerking less wildly small sounds slipping through your lips. Aaron freezes as he walks into the apartment, listening carefully to the strange noises. It doesn't take him long to realise what it is, sighing softly as he walks into your room. His eyes soften as they land on you, the way you have wrapped the blanket tightly around you, tears sliding your face as you look up.

"it's been a bad day" Whimpering softly as your head jerks backwards, your tongue clicking away.

"Oh sweetheart" Aaron murmurs softly, crawling onto the bed towards you. "How long has it been?"

"Same attack, about seven hours" You slam your eyes shut as a tic takes a hold of your body, shutting control from you once again.

"Oh love, you should have called me" Aaron heartbreaks as he watched your body tick away. He hates it when you try and hide bad days like these, he knows just how exhausting they are and just how much pain they cause you.

"Nothing you can do" Smiling weakly as you take deep breaths, trying your hardest to stay calm.

"Not true" He murmurs as you open your eyes again. "I can order is food, and give you cuddles" He smiles as he watches your face light up even as a small tick occurs.

"Cuddles" You smile on agreement as your tongue starts to click away. "But I might accidentally hit you if we cuddle"

"That's fine" He smiles more opening up his arms. "Come here" He croons at you, his words sweet like honey. You can't help but roll yourself into his arms, allowing him to wrap his arms tightly around you as your body ticks away.

~~~

A couple hours pass by and the ticking slows down. A movie fills the room as you calm down from the events of the day, grateful to have the extra weight of your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you. Having tick attacks are rough, feeling emotional drained as well as physically exhausted is a horrible feeling. But having Aaron by your side nothing can get you down. His cuddles always seem to cure your bad days.

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Kill me for mercy.

Ghost x reader (y/n)(codename: raven)

You made him promise you one thing, Ghost is a man of word but he never expected the day to keep this promise would arrive.

Warning: mentions of murder, torture, manipulation and as always spelling and grammatical errors. Pictures are not mine, credits to whoever they belong to.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

I've been having trouble writing new stuff but I hope someone likes this.

You and him were good colleagues, it took him some time to trust you, but there you were being good friends, some others would say there was something else between you and him, an unspoken chemistry.

And they weren't wrong, you and him managed to keep it secret, around the base and during missions you and him were merely teammates, but things were different once you were out of the base, you weren't a couple, let's say you were more than friends, there was love and affection, dinner dates, movie nights, kisses and more.

Both decided to enjoy each other's company without involving your feelings more, there's no room for love, the risks and adversities of your jobs pushed you to take that decision.

Was one night when you asked him to make a promise, one hard to keep. It happened during a talk after a funny and pleasurable night.

-(...) But What if one day you have to make a choice between saving the world or saving me?

- Love, that's difficult to answer and depends on the context.

- Okay, umm what if there's something wrong with me that can put the world in danger, like... There's a bomb inside me or if I... have the key to start to create chaos. What would you do?

Simon observed you, he was thinking about what to answer while he was caressing your shoulder, running his finger through your side.

- I think we both know what is the right thing to do in that case, but I'm not sure if I would be capable of doing such a thing.

- You always talk about doing the right thing for the world, well, promise me if one day this time arrives, you will do the necessary, yes?

He doubted, he really thought about it, you didn't know how difficult it would be for him to keep this promise.

- I promise.

A few months later, he lost you during a mission. You were a pilot, a missile hit the plane.

- Captain, a missile is behind me, I repeat, me and my team are under attack...

- Raven? Raven, talk to us...

- Lt... We're falling, I repeat we're falling, we lost the right engine... Fuck!

«Communication lost.»

- Raven, Respond! Do you copy?

Static, pure static was all Simon and the others heard. Hours later an S.O.S message with coordinates arrived, but you weren't there, somehow you managed to save some of your teammates, but apparently you didn't make it, of course Ghost insisted on looking for you, a radio around the location where the team was found.

- Sir, I told you, Raven saved us but didn't leave the plane on time... Y/n didn't survive.

- And I'm telling you we have to find something, any trace.

The searching of your body, ashes or bones was useless, Simon refused to believe you were dead, he was sure you were alive, somewhere.

Meanwhile, you, in fact, were alive, badly wounded but alive, you lost your memory because of a hard hit in your head during your falling, you have flashbacks but nothing of that could tell you who you were before. The people who found you always said the same.

«You survived but your teammates abandoned you because of your injuries, we saved you.»

They saved you, but the price you paid was higher than you could imagine, they experimented with you, tortured you to make you forget those small flashbacks, your genetics were modified, they trained you under extreme conditions, you were a laboratory mouse. Lucky for you, you were the first successful Test subject, they wouldn't let you go easily though. They started to expose you to private contractors and companies, they needed investors to continue with this project full of new... Super soldiers.

Days became weeks, then months, years. Ghost never gave up, he went back to the location more times looking for clues, asked all the people who were there that day with you, always the same answers, nothing new. Just a miracle could give him what he wanted.

He still had dreams about you, just like you, you woke up with the memory of his eyes or his voice, of course you didn't know who he was or why you had those dreams, your current owners always told you he was the one who abandoned you, so eventually you started to believe in their lies.

It was Early in the morning for Ghost, he was exercising when Price appeared with his laptop on hand. Simon knew that look.

- We have to talk. Look what we found during an investigation. We infiltrated some of our men in a meeting with private contractors, and this happened.

It was a video, they were talking about soldiers genetically modified, apparently stronger and more resistant than anybody else, blah, blah, blah... Then, a person called "Soldier Zero" appeared, it looked like you, your eyes, the nose, the lips, it was you, you were alive but something was wrong, you have dead and cold eyes, your not listening to anybody else in the room except for one person at your side, he gives you orders and you make them.

«This is the solution, smart and strong soldiers thanks to the liquid solution that affects their DNA, they could fight against a polar bear and win without the help of weapons, you will never have to repeat orders or have problems with obedience, they're focused on your voices thanks to the microchip inside them that you can activate and deactivate whenever you want, this is the future ladies and gentlemen.»

The rest of the video is about your skills, stupid questions from the people in the meeting, until one finally made a good one.

«Is this soldier still having memories of the past?» «Yes, Short flashbacks, nothing that could represent a risk or a problem in battle but we're fixing that little details already.»

He paused the video, that was all he needed to know, you probably still remember no matter what, no matter who but there's a small probability that you can go back to normal. He simply handed the laptop back to Price and stood up.

- When will we go to pick up our Raven?

- Today, we found the location of the laboratory, get ready, we'll go to Siberia.

Simon was not excited, he was anxious, nervous, he was praying for you to recognize him, Hoping you could go back to who you were before, he was wondering how much did you suffer all this time.

You were in the middle of your routine checkup, taking your pills, talking with the medic.

- How's your sleep schedule?

- Is a mess, I still have those dreams... About that guy, I can't remember his name but he always talks to me, as if I was special for him.

- I'll increase your dose of sleeping pills, we've been talking about this, you're not Raven anymore, you're Zero, that man abandoned you, we found you, we're all you have now.

- I know... I was just...

You couldn't finish your phrase, the alarms were active.

«we're under attack! The soldiers, Put them to work!».

You were now focused on one thing, kill the enemy, that was your order, you were following your orders, but something was wrong with you, you weren't totally under the control of the chip inside you.

You were running through the corridors when someone pushed you, you hit the wall but you stood up rapidly, the man had a strange accent, a Scotland flag was adorning his chest.

- Raven? It is me, I'm Soap! Stop!

You can't stop yourself, something tells you he's not an enemy but still you're attacking him.

- I found Raven! I need someone to help me, I can't contain it alone, is fucking strong...! Come on Raven, stop, we're your friends!

- Copy, on the way.

Soap had you trapped between his legs and arms but he's getting tired, you're moving and trying to get yourself free.

- You and your friends left me here to die!

You said.

- What? No, Y/n, we've been looking for you, we never stopped to look for you, stop fighting...

Suddenly, a new memory was unblocked, this codename, Soap, memories of him and you shooting, fighting side to side, drinking beer, his laugh.

What is going on with you? Why are you attacking him if he's telling you he's your friend, he's there for you, why can't you stop? Then your brain forces you to attack, you somehow have the strength to stand up with him on your back, like a baby koala, then you hit him against a wall to let you free, it works, you feel afraid when you see him fainting and falling on the floor, but at the same time your feelings disappeared, you are ready to continue and finishing your job when a new person appears on your view, is tall, Corpulent and has a skull mask to hide his real face, you see his eyes, those eyes are familiar to you, you have seen them in your dreams.

- Y/n, it's me, I'm Ghost...

That Deep and raspy voice, the way he says your name, the images of your dreams are filling your brain, you're remembering the way he touched you, kissed you...

- what? What's going on? Who are you? What do you want from me? Wait... No, you're not my friend, you're the enemy.

You run to him and start to hit him, Simon wasn't expecting your new strength, those bloody bastards weren't lying, you have enough strength to fight with an animal, he doesn't want to hurt you, you're still the person he loves. Soap stands up and tries to help, both are trying to contain you, trying to make you understand they're your friends.

«ZERO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I SAID KILL THEM ALL! NOW, THEY ABANDONED YOU, REMEMBER?»

- Come on, Love, I know you're there, don't let them play with your mind, listen to me, we never stopped to look for you! Stop this now!

More soldiers are fighting against the Invaders, all of them are following orders but not you, you're struggling with the memories, you feel like there's someone else inside you trying to take control of your body. You're trying to stop yourself. Simon is watching the scene, you're talking alone, discussing and hitting yourself, you're suffering.

«No, they're here for me! I want to stop!» «No, my orders, I have to kill all of them!» «I want to stop! Let me go!!!» «Soap, Ghost...please» «I will kill y'all!»

Soap is observing from afar, he knows you're not going to be ok, even if they take you out of that place, even if they find the way to stop whatever is inside you, you're not going to be the same anymore, the damage is done.

- Lt. I'm sorry, but Y/n is not there anymore, we can't save Raven, let's go, the Cap and the rest need us.

- Go, I'll take care of y/n. I made a promise...

Ghost muttered.

- it's not going to come back!

- I KNOW! lemme keep my bloody promise Johnny! Get out of here, I'll finish this.

Soap froze, but don't question his lieutenant's order, he nods In silence and leaves. Ghost knows this is the only way to help you, the pain, the suffering, maybe the circumstances are not as you planted him time ago, but the decision of doing the right thing applies to this. You're not a risk for the world, not yet, but certainly, for him, you're his entire world, and if his world is its own danger and is suffering, he needs to put an end to it.

- Raven, Y/n, stop. Look at me love, look at me!

He somehow managed to have you between his arms, hugging, the familiar smell of his cologne and the warmth of his body, somehow is bringing you back and taking control of yourself just for a moment.

- You didn't abandon me, tell me you didn't...

- I never did it.

- Gh... Ghost... Kill me, have mercy on me, kill me for mercy.

The lump in Ghost's throat, his body feeling weak incapable of moving, he doesn't want to hurt you or kill you, but it's true, you're never going to be the same, you had suffering too much, he can feel how you're trying to keep yourself in control, you're fighting with your own body trying to not attack him, you're begging him over and over to ease the pain.

He lets you go off him, You're now with a knife walking in his direction, there's tears In your face. Ghost is ready to let you attack but also he has his own knife on hand too. It was quick, he took your knife before you could stab him, his body is pressed against yours but the blood in your clothes wasn't from him, it was yours, he slowly kneels down with you still against him, you exhaled, gasped and looked at him, touching his mask, you wanted to say something but then it was just silence. He never looked away, his eyes were fixed on you, he observed life escaping from your body, you were light as a feather, your face and lips were losing color, he pressed his forehead against yours with his eyes finally closed, whispering «i'm sorry, love, I'm sorry » and seconds later he stands up with your body in his arms, he kept his promise, he saved the world, his world, he promised himself to remember you as you were before all this mess, this was his new promise, to keep you in his heart, his memory wouldn't remember what happened to you, he would remember you as the sunshine that arrived to his life in the right time but left too soon.

[tubbietommo]

You know, a lot have been said already these past few hours and I'm trying to organize my own thoughts as the realization is slowly starting to hit.

I became a fan of One Direction back in 2011. I was 12 and suddenly these 5 boys became my whole world. I've made some amazing friends through them and these boys truly helped me get through my teenage years where I felt 90% of the time very lost and even struggled with depression. You just go through life putting on a smile and try and survive another day.

So selfishly I will forever be grateful that these boys were there for me as a distraction. But as I grow older I look back at those 1D years and I now also feel very sorry that those 16, 17, 18 year old kids went through so much in such a small period.

I can actually still remember a conversation I had with my mom back in the 1D years where she said that they are very lucky to not have to go through this massive amount of fame alone, especially at such a young age and considering the amount of pressure that comes with it. At least they could lean on each other.

The more time went by as 1D went on a "hiatus", the more you could see a lost soul in Liam. Obviously, I didn't know Liam other than the pictures, interviews and the imagination I've put in my head ever since I was 12, and people also change over the years for good and for worse. But still anyone could see Liam looked so lost over the past couple of years and it was heartbreaking to watch as an outsider, but also as a young fan. I don't know if he had good people around him these past couple of years, I truly hope he did.

There's probably so much more I could say. I'm not even sure what kind of post this one is. I always had and always will have a place in my heart for these five boys. In a way, they feel like older brothers you barely see because they left home, and all you want for them is to do well in this life. And you want them to know you are rooting for them. I don't know if that's a weird way to put it, but it kinda does feel like this sometimes.

These might be empty words, considering what time we live in. But we are all just human beings and we're all trying. I wished we all just be a little kinder to one another & especially be kind to ourselves. Be kind to yourself, go easy on yourself, give yourself as much time as you need. We're all living on this small planet. I hope you will remember that. I hope I will remember that.

And I hope Liam can now also find some peace wherever he may be right now.

[semper-draca]

There's something so depressing about being an artist on tumblr these days that I'm finding hard to articulate. Years ago, shitty one-hour sketches I posted would at least get double digits in the notes. These days, I can post commissions that took over fifty hours and get 5 notes at most. Blah blah do art for yourself, sure, but the important part is -

I Rarely Get Commissions Anymore.

Where I used to have to limit how many comms I could accept at once because I'd get that many requests, now I'm lucky to get two when I open up coms again. People don't reblog the art I do for myself, so no one finds my commission info that way. People don't reblog the art I do for commissions, so no one finds my commission info that way. People don't reblog commissions posts. A couple likes will get tossed at it from people who don't actually reach out in interest, so it doesn't circulate and it's just me reblogging it into the void, desperately hoping for some modicum of cash. I feel like people don't understand these days how little money most artists are bringing in, and the anxiety that comes with drastically declining circulation of art on websites like tumblr. Right now, for example, I'm desperate to earn as much money as I can during the summer because what I earn this summer? Has to last me rent for seven months straight to help offset the inevitable drain of all the savings I have. Normally some of that would come from art - nowadays, I can't rely on getting even a single commission.

I think this anxiety and this real material concern is what is behind all those "please for the love of god reblog art/posts you like" posts that people love to get angry about. If you haven't been here for years, it can be hard to see the ways in which this vanishing reblog culture has severely hit artists and forced many away from this platform. I don't want to leave tumblr or stop posting my art here, but good god is it depressing to see this site, and I cannot stress this enough, almost COMPLETELY VANISH as a revenue stream. I don't know what the solution to this culture shift is, but I do know that it's causing this site to deteriorate and forcing artists to move elsewhere and invest less effort on tumblr because it no longer makes any financial sense. I know that everyone is tired of hearing this, and fair enough, because there are plenty of other artists with louder voices than mine saying similar things, but please, if you like some art, consider reblogging it. Even if you have no interest in ever commissioning that artist. Others might see it and be interested, and that's how most new clients are made. Artists have rent on the line.

anyway, if you've made it to the end of this rant and haven't blocked me for it lmao, I still have commissions open

[infamousbrad]

For a few years now, I've taken multiple opportunities to ask groups of my fellow Americans the same question: "do you think early 21st century America is a good place to raise a child?" Answers varied from person to person, even among parents of children, from "yeah, pretty good" all the way down to "oh hell no." Rather than give my answer, and go into my reasons (for now) let's look at a report card ranking 35 major countries by several criteria, that just rated only Mexico as worse than the USA as a place to raise a family.

Safety: F. Based on homicide rate, average fear of crime, risk of dying to war or terrorism, school shootings per capita, and protection of civil rights for all. We did okay on most of the sub-ratings, but barely mediocre on civil rights and, well, obviously insanely bad compared to everybody else on school shootings.

Happiness: C+. Based on the human freedom index, world happiness index, per-capita suicide rate, household income inequality, and whether or not some families are discriminated against in adoption rights. I couldn't quickly find the sub-ratings on this one, but the USA came out pretty average.

Cost: F. Based on child care costs, per household family support spending, out-of-pocket educational costs, out-of-pocket health spending, and income-adjusted cost of living. The UK and New Zealand were even worse on child-care costs, but the US came in dead last in every other sub-category. We are the only country that expects those costs to be entirely born by parents who currently have minor children instead of spreading them out across all households.

Health: D-. Based on maternal mortality rate, child mortality rate, access to contraception, air pollution level, and average life expectancy. Because we're not in the bottom 5, I again can't easily find the US ranking on each of those sub-ratings, but I imagine we really got hit on our maternal mortality rate.

Education: C+. Based on teen enrollment rate, early-20s enrollment rate, average reading performance, average math performance, and average science performance. We weren't in the top or bottom 5 so, again, I don't know our detailed rankings but we did end up above average. And finally ...

Time: F. Based on time off per worker, weeks of paid maternity leave, weeks of paid paternity leave, weeks of mandatory paid sick leave, weeks of mandatory paid vacation leave. Only Mexico gave its workers fewer hours off work, and we are the only country in the survey to have a zero in all four other categories.

Across all countries: Only 5 of the 35 countries got an A+ overall. Starting with the highest score: Iceland, Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Luxembourg. Only two countries got an F, the US and Mexico. If you choose to have and raise a family in the United States, you will bear a higher percentage of those expenses than almost any country in the world, your children will be in more physical danger and health danger than anywhere in the industrialized world outside of an active war zone, and you will have less time with them, less time to parent them, than parents anywhere else surveyed.

So, you tell me: in your opinion, is the United States of America in the early 21st century a good place to have and raise children, or not?

Not to beg, but I'd really appreciate more eyes on this, please? Especially from my fellow Americans and doubly-so from people who have kids or who have recently raised kids?

[angryschnauzer]

I realised two months have gone by since i last updated you all, i'm not even sure if anyone is interested anymore. I know i haven't been on much, perhaps sporadically coming on and mindlessly reblogging Henry stuff just for a little escape, but its intermittent at best. I had hoped to be back to writing by now, but life is still a huge pile of shit.

I'm run ragged trying to pay the bills. My wedding decorations business is halfway between slow and dead; the cost of living crisis means weddings aren't really happening, and if they are most of the items i do people are making themselves. My side gig in ebay flipping is quiet too but at least its trickling by. I don't mention this much as people get a lot of abuse over 'thrift store flippers' (Charity Shop resellers here in the UK), but right now its what's keeping my family fed. I buy clothing for £1 from the stinky dregs bin in a charity shop, wash it, mend it, resell it for £4. I'm not making millions or even thousands. I'm lucky if i'm bringing in £150 a week which barely covers our weekly food shop. Its draining that when i do eventually mention this to my friends they immediately start moaning at me that i'm the one 'ruining' charity shops and why its pushing the prices up. But when i calmly tell them its that or i don't eat they go quiet. I'm not the one pushing a 2nd hand coat for £25 which was only £20 brand new which most high street charity shops are doing. Do i like doing this? No. Do i have to? Yes. Because i sure as ain't cute enough for onlyfans.

But the majority of my time over the last couple of months has been spent caring for our son. He's 8 and has type 1 diabetes, and since school started back in September one little shit in his class has spent every waking moment bullying him. This little shit has been stabbing my son with pencils, poking him in the kidneys with whatever he has to hand, laughing and sneering at him at every opportunity even when he's just walking past. Having the adrenaline and cortisol in my son's bloodstream affects how his insulin works, and he builds up an insulin resistance because of all the other hormones in his bloodstream. I've had so many meetings with the school, and have had to get the board of governors involved because when your 8 year old kid says quietly to you "It would be better if i wasn't alive as then *Little Shit* wouldn't be able to bully me" your heart breaks into pieces.

He needs my support more than anything, so every single other thing has been put by the wayside. And its tough. He acts out at home, messes around with his dinner because he feels he needs to be able to control something, but that in turn messes up insulin dosing so i'm spending half the night dealing with highs and lows for his blood sugars. I get at most 5 hours sleep a night.

I have no more energy left. I'm not eating, because i just can't stomach it. I'm 43 and hitting menopause, but my doctor doesn't want to know because "You just need to loose some weight" (don't get be started on fat bias from the NHS).

So i'm filling my time with volunteering at school so i can be 'around' for my Little Dude. He knows that if he's having an awful day, he will find me in the office sorting through paperwork for our next fundraiser. Its not what i want to be doing, but its what i need to be doing.

One day i hope to get back to my writing. I miss being creative and i hate that i have so many stories part written/published. As the months tick by i actually end up seeing stories written by others that have the same characters/plotlines. This is no-ones fault that two stories exist on the same synopsis, it would just seem that they and I have taken the same inspiration from media at some point. But it makes me scared that if i now publish a story i started 2 years ago, i'll be accused of stealing an idea. I don't know what to do. So i just leave my WIP folder abandoned.

For everyone that has stayed with me thank you. For those that have moved onto pastures new, i wish you well and hold no malice.

I do love you all

Mama Schnauz

x

[leafyaa]

Chapter 5.

"W-what..?" You mutter in disbelief.

"You know you're pretty lucky, having such a wealthy husband as well as him being the son of the president of Inazuma~" The other waitress giggles.

"Sorry, but he's not my husband- I'm- I'm leaving thank you for your service.." You say and hurriedly make your way downstairs to the private entrance. Not looking carefully enough to see you were running into a person that also was in a hurry.

"Fucking idiots can't do their fucking job right." A familiar voice mutters in irritation, most likely towards you.

"Sorry sir, I- I was just in a hurry." You apologize and quickly get up to leave. But before you can open the door someone grabs your wrist firmly to pull you back.

"Wait Y/n?" You turn around instantly and watch as a familiar person stares in shock at you.

"Kunikuzushi..." You mutter and look down, avoiding his gaze.

"Y/n I'm so sorry I-"

"Just let go of me. You don't deserve my fucking time." You say, trying your hardest to sound angry because you are. But being angry is just something you were never.

"Please let me explain!" Kunikuzushi begs but you shake him off. He lets go of your wrist and looks in pain.

"Goodbye Kunikuzushi." You push open the door and walk out the restaurant.

You quickly put on your shoes and start walking away.

But you hear someone running behind you.

"Y/n! Please hear me out!" Kunikuzushi who ran after you is now walking alongside you trying to talk through your stubbornness.

"Shut the fuck up Kunikuzushi." You glare at him and continue to walk to the bus stop.

"Please Y/n.." Kunikuzushi clings onto you, looking desperate.

"No. What do you not understand about no?? Are you fucking stupid?" You yell, harshly shaking him off of you.

"You sound so fucking pathetic right now. Fucking desperate trying to get me back while in the mean time you've probably ruined the lives of so many people. Just- just stop already!"

Oh how you want to hit him so badly with your purse just because he is pissing you off. But you decide not to.

"This is the last time I'm saying it, Kunikuzushi. Stay the fuck away from me." You turn around and continue to walk, leaving him alone on the ground.

Your heart is throbbing from the painful encounter and you just feel so tired.

Luckily for you a bus just arrived so you step in. You lean on the window, feeling exhausted.

You kinda feel sad that this is the way you meet Kunikuzushi after a long time.

Firstly he somehow got into your house, left his number and made you think he was Gorou (which also led to falsely accusing Gorou).

Secondly he left you waiting for half an hour, already making your appetite go away.

And lastly made the whole Uyuu staff think you were his wife??

Tears start to fall down your cheek. You just feel so frustrated after the whole ordeal. You just want to sleep, you don't even care about the fact you didn't eat dinner.

After 30 minutes you finally reach your destination and step out of the bus. You already stopped crying and were now walking home.

Very slowly, almost like you have no energy left.

Your day was officially ruined and you just didn't feel like even continuing onwards with living if you were being honest.

"Oh shit, wait I need to call Gorou back." You say and stop in your tracks, pulling out your phone from your purse and calling the correct Gorou.

But before you could talk to him you hear footsteps and before you can turn around you feel a needle in your arm.

You drop your phone as well as dropping to the ground.

Your last memory is the blurry vision of people dressed in purple and having green hair.

"Sleep shitty, you slut." Two females giggle as they drag your limp body over the pavement. Feeling anything but remorse as they create all cuts over your body.

The moon was up but covered by dark clouds. Only the lampposts were illuminating the dark streets.

No CCTVs captured their wrongdoings because well why would a small village like this one have any crime? Everyone knew each other.

"You know, it would've been more fun if we could torture her..." One of the two females says with a sigh, imagining all kinds of violent things in her head.

"True.. Though the doctor told us to bring her unharmed and blablabla. You know if it was Signora we would've been allowed to torture this little slut." The other female shrugged.

"But what if the injuries aren't our fault?"

The two look at each other and smirk.

"Let's do a little beating~"

They drop your unconscious body on the ground and pull out their extendable baton stick.

It was an expensive one decorated with snowflakes that faded to the bottom. And with a logo of the Fatui.

But before the two could beat Y/n someone sprinted towards them with a knife and slit their throats. Making them collapse on the ground.

"Tell me who the fuck send you." A male threatens as he draws his knife closer to their necks.

"W-we can't tell you!" One of them says, gagging on blood.

The male slit her throat further and her hit collapsed on the ground.

"Now you insect, tell me who the fuck decided you have to attack her." The male grins as he holds his knife closer towards the other woman's throat.

"I-if I tell you- will you l-let me go?"

"Sure if you tell me the truth." The male decided to play along, giving her false hope.

"It- it was the doctor-! I swear I-I'm telling the truth! P-please let m-me go!" But before she could hear his response he already slit her throat, leaving her dead on the ground with her acquaintance.

The male grabs their weapons, shrinking it back to their small sizes and tucking it away in his pocket.

He then bends over to carefully grab you from the ground and carry her in his arms.

He is enraged for having this happen to you and for his former co-workers to be targeting you because you are connected to him.

"I apologize once again Y/n.."

A day later you wake up to the sound of beeping.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Your hair is a mess and your body is in pain.

Your limbs feel weak and you feel tired.

You open your eyes and are met with a

White ceiling, yet look to the side to see a blurry dark night.

The blinds are rolled down but you can still see through them as the curtains aren't closed.

You hear the sound of people walking, but not close to you. Just from a distance.

Why do you feel pain is what you wonder? What even happened before?

You push the covers away and start moving around the bed.

Noticing a tube that was connected onto your arm, you shriek and quickly remove it off of you, feeling terrified.

You quickly get out of bed but stumble onto the ground, making a bunch of noise because there was another tube connected to your other arm that also was connected to the machine.

People come rushing in as you lay on the ground face flat. You hear the sound of people screaming and panicking, but one particular voice stands out.

"What the fuck are you idiots panicking, help her get on the bed!" A voice you instantly recognize as Kunikuzushi.

You slightly move your head and see that he squats down to tilt you up like a kitten.

"Y/n please don't fight back for once.. They're going to help you get better, okay?" He says with a gentle tone as he puts you down on the bed again.

"What... Happened?" You mutter in exhaustion.

"Just rest for now, I'll explain later, alright?" Kunikuzushi smiles as he reconnects the tubes and pulls the covers over you.

Gently caressing your cheek as tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Don't worry, I'll be here to protect you."

⇠ previous ⭒ masterlist ⭒next ⇢

Notes:

Hmm mm why would the doctor send his subordinates after you? Is it because he has taken interest in you?

Summary:

You've dated Scaramouche in your high school and college years but just as you wanted to announce your pregnancy to him he broke up with you without any reason. He left you to be a single mom for 7 years. But now that your daughter has been missing and abducted for a year and you've not been doing well and out of a sudden he showed up into your life again trying to apologize for his past mistakes..?

Taglist:

@swivy123 @kichiyoshi @wwwrizchan @k1t0 @killumeo @pinkdreamerbailifflawyer-blog @samarill @xiaotopia @aqualesha @eattingshits @omoriaddict @mave-in @sketcheeee @xiaossocksniffer @elernity @ohmyfinggod @izukusshuu @divinechicha @arrowximpack @kariuu @scaramochies

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for asking my husband to stop taking NyQuil?

My father in law came to visit for Thanksgiving and gave my family (me 30F, and our kids 2F, .5F) covid. It's hit my husband (31M) the hardest. He has a terrible cough that hurts and sounds awful. He can't sleep without taking NyQuil to suppress the cough. I am not able to take any medicine other than Tylenol for my headache, because I am breastfeeding the baby.

This wouldn't matter much because I am not nearly as sick as my husband, but I am not getting better because I am not getting sleep. Neither kid will sleep longer than 2 hours at a time, they take about 30-45 minutes to settle back down, and they usually end up waking in a staggered schedule that means I literally do not get to sleep the entire night. As soon as I lie down from getting one back to bed, the other will start crying. My husband will handle the toddler from 8-11pm, then takes NyQuil and doesn't wake up until after 10 the next morning. He is essentially dead to the world until he wakes up naturally. I am alone all night and morning with no sleep and two crying children. My mental health is tanked, to the point where I'm having intrusive suicidal thoughts for the first time in almost 10 years. I haven't had more than 90 minutes of sleep at a time in 5 days, and no more than 4 hours in a 24 hour period. I am incredibly lucky that I have unlimited sick time available at work.

My mom has been able to help us a couple of times when we were truly desperate, but she is disabled (and also has covid because she had my in-laws over for coffee while they were in town) and I don't want to ask too much of her because she truly can't spend that much energy on us without severe impact to her own health.

My husband will get no sleep without NyQuil. I won't get much more sleep since the baby only calms by breastfeeding, but if my partner handles the toddler wake ups I could get maybe an hour more sleep, and I wouldn't feel so alone.

Would I be the asshole if I ask him to stop taking NyQuil and we both so more or less sleepless?

INFO I couldn't fit in nicely but I can imagine people asking if this were a parenting circle: 1) he isn't a great help during the day already because he's sick. I'm doing most of the childcare and all of the cooking and cleaning during the day while he lays on the couch coughing. Him not getting sleep would not noticeably impact his daytime behavior. When we aren't sick, he is a stay at home parent and I work full time. 2) my baby is sick, this is not the time to sleep train her by letting her cry until she falls back to sleep. 3) My toddler up until this illness was excellent about putting herself back to sleep if she woke in the night. Now she is having nightmares and getting upset about her stuffy nose and crying at every little thing because she has sinus pain and doesn't understand it. She is too young to take decongestants and spits out any Tylenol we try to give her.

What are these acronyms?

[fraugwinska]

Chapter 5 - Junction

Junction (noun) 1. a place where things come together (esp. roads/railroads) 2. a place or point of meeting

Tags & Warnings: none

“And this is the en-suite bathroom! We just had a new shower installed! Not every room has it's own, so you're one of the lucky ones!”

Charlie was made of nothing but energy. Like a bouncy ball, she jumped from here to there, showing you every inch of your room with eager fervor. She seemed so excitable, happy to have someone to show around. A vast contrast to her girlfriend, who stood at the closed door of your room, arms crossed and with a sour face.

“Do you like it?”

You tried to soften your face, it wasn't a smile, but well. It was all you got.

“It's very, very nice Charlie, I appreciate it very much. Thank you.”

Charlie let out a happy giggle. Vaggie came to her side, eyeing you suspiciously.

“What exactly do you do, as Alastors assistant?”, she inquired, her tone harsh. You looked at her with an indifferent look.

“Anything he tasks me to do.” Short, simple, vague answer. Robotic, a little voice in your head whispered, and you added “I am just basically there to make his everyday life easier, is all.” Better.

“Did he hire you?”, Vaggie pressed. Charlie looked uncomfortable, her eyes darting from you to Vaggie and back.

“Of course he did. I wouldn't work for him if he didn't.”

For a few seconds, there was only silence, a staring contest. Your stoic wall of indifference against her fiery canons of indignation. Charlie, laughing nervously, and brave as she was, took a step in between you two.

“We're just a little.. surprised. Alastor never told us about an assistant. And well...”, she wrung her hands, smiling shyly, “Given his... reputation, Vaggie... we were wondering if you were really here because you wanted to.”

Your tail swished around your ankles in a fit of annoyance. “I'm here on my own volition. Alastor asked me to help, and I said yes, so you really can relax.” Not a lie, at least technically.

Charlie put a hand on Vaggies shoulder. “See, Vags, it's okay. Cool down.” She gave you an apologetic smile. “Please believe us, we are really happy to have you here. We're just.. um.. worried about you.”

You shook you head. He wasn't exaggerating when he said that they were on the edge with him. “I can assure you, I really am fine. Alastor is very kind to me.”

You could literally hear their jaws drop. Vaggie even heaved in outrage. “Kind? KIND? You got to be shitting me!”

You looked puzzled that such a simple sentence would spark this much.... reaction. Who would be this angry about such a statement? Charlie intervened quickly. “Wow. I mean... WOW. Well, that's a... word.... you don't hear often together with... Alastor. Huh. Okay. That's cool, then.” She took your hands, looking at you earnestly.

“But just in case, if you ever have something you want to talk about, or something you need help with, please, come see me... us. OUR...”, she pronounced the last word prominently, a not-so-subtle warning to her companion to calm down, “...door is always open for you. Now, we'll let you settle. See you in the foyer for dinner in about an hour?”

You thanked her again, promising you'd join them for dinner and after Charlie practically pushed a still fuming Vaggie out the door, you were alone. You rubbed your temples, breathing. The room was big, bright and very victorian-esque. Thick, cream colored brocade curtains lined the big double window overseeing Pentagram city. You've never seen a canopy bed like the one right next to it before – it looked like it was carved out of a single trunk, warm, creamy wood plushed with rich, thick red velvet and matching red curtains. You sat down. The thick mattress was soft and felt extravagant. You felt a bit lost in it. With an exasperated moan you let your back hit the soft cushions, allowing yourself to feel the delicate linens and squishy mattress, humming deeply in accordance with the comfort. This was your new home now. It felt nothing like it, but you would come to manage. You always did. The bed made it easier, enveloping you in a warm embrace, and you closed your eyes and started to finally relax. The room was quiet, except for a subtle buzzing sound. Your ears perked up and you opened your eyes, pushing yourself up on your elbows while you scanned your surroundings. You found the source of the buzzing to be a single one of Alastor's shadows. You recognized him immediately, his shape and cyan eyes and maw were so distinctive. It was one of his more sentient ones, one that was one of your masters closest servants that had a habit on spying on you at nights. You sometimes heard Alastor call him Ozul. You raised a brow at him.

“You heard what was said. You can go and tell him now, everything went a-okay.”

The shadow hissed at you, not particulary aggressive, but not too friendly either, like a child blowing you a raspberry, then he disappeared. You shook your head. Great. Now you had a babysitter here too. You cracked your back and started to unpack.

Ah, how he loved the smell of the unholy trinity – he had cut up the c elery, onion and green bell pepper, and in the pot they went, together with jalapeno and a good measure of garlic. He always hummed a tune while he cooked, it evoked so many fond memories. Just when he put in the rice, some stock and crushed tomatoes, he felt something tug on his pantleg. Without moving even an inch, he looked down, lids almost closed. The kitchen was left empty, as usual when he was in there... the others were still avoiding being in a room with him for too long. Good.

„Yes, Ozul?“, Alastor asked his shadow companion, while he expertisely added seasoning. Oh, that wonderful smell of home.

Ş̷̞͂̀h̷̜͕͋̌e̵̖̊̕ ̷̛̟̈́a̵͎͐l̴͇̃̀o̵̤̳̎͛n̷͔̅e̸̩͝ ̴̄̽͜n̶͍̬̎ö̵̻̝́̀w̷̙͚̒̉.̶̢̇͘͜ ̷͙̔̔s̵̬̲͋̒h̴̑̓͜ë̷̙́́ ̴̮̓̃g̷̨̓o̸̩̿͠ǫ̷̣̑d̸̺̍ ̷̠͈̔͂ḡ̸̺̳i̵̭̤̓r̴̯̚ļ̷̤͐̽  (She alone now. She good girl)

„So, my little kitten had her first trial by fire and didn't burn herself?“, he quibbed, smiling gleefully. He wasn't surprised. Ah, how obedient she was. He would have preferred her to heed his advice of smiling, but he had sensed her rare hesitation and let this matter go for now. He could always command her, if it started to be a problem with the snoopy folks here afterall. Additionally, and he was surprised of himself, he found the thought of her smile being an exclusive right to see quite satisfying.

s̶͔͝h̵̦͋e̷̘̜̋ ̵̠̃̏ͅś̸͈̉â̷̬̗i̴̞̐d̷̬̎ ̸̳̰͝y̷̲̽o̸̙̔́ṷ̸͙̌ ̵̨̙̐̐k̶̤̯͌i̶̙͇͛n̷̝̞̿̋d̴̩͙̓͝.̶̟͍̋̍ ̴̡͂͆ǫ̴̯̑t̶̬͛h̸̘̲̆e̷͓̲͛ŗ̸͉̋s̵̢̝̑ ̵̹̮́ą̸̞̂n̴͈̋̄g̷͖̊r̸̝̒͝y,̵̞͔̑͠ ̶̫̳̂b̶̲͓̒̈́u̶̜̚t̶̠͖̽́ ̸̻̿s̵̤̈́͝h̵̙̾͛ę̵̰̀̈́ ̵̫̀ḡ̴̜̺o̸̤͊ő̵̗d̸̳̯̓̑ (She said you kind. others angry, but she good.)

Now that turned his head. She said he was kind, he thought, and couldn't help but snicker. Such an interesting girl he had, he could imagine the look of her heart-shaped face while she said that to the wary princess and her little angry companion. He heard Rosies voice ringing in his ears.

'This girl would do anything to please you.'

And how eager she was indeed, to do him right. It amazed him how he didn't even need to install fear in her to behave exactly as he wanted her to. She had promised him loyalty, and against all odds it seemed as if she would hold up to that promise. He couldn't be more satisfied. Slowly but surely, she would help improve his standing here, freeing his way to more prosperous opportunities.

í̵̘̭͗s p̵̣̍̈ṛ̸̚ȅ̵̫t̸̡͙̆t̵̮̀ŷ̸͙̚ (is pretty.)

Ozul hummed content. Alastor rose a brow at him.

l̵̡̝̃i̵̠͝k̴͍̇e̴͂̑͜s̴̹̕ ̴̦̬̿͗v̸͇͋̐o̴͔̘̿ȉ̷̪c̷̰̝͒͘ê̴̱͗,̸̢͍̅͆ ̵̗͉̇͠s̶̡̀̏͜ḧ̸̥̙́e̵̤̊̓ ̶̱̔͛m̷͕̫̒ŏ̶̠̭͛a̷̼̝͆n̵̖͛̍s̸̝̠͝ ̷͈̳̓ṕ̶̛͓ȓ̸̲ȅ̵̱͜ẗ̶̥͉́̊t̷̝͆̈y̸͙̔̽(likes voice. she moans pretty.)

He tutted. “You should better know how to behave yourself, my little fellow, or I'll have to send someone else to guard her.”

Ozul just buzzed and hummed mischievously, rushing back over the walls to her room. Alastorshook his head, a little exasperated. The bay leafs he added sunk into the stew, and bubbles popped on the surface. He covered the stew and set his pocket watch down at the counter – making a mental note to check it in twenty minutes.

As inappropriate as his little naughty shadow was, he thought for a second that he couldn't say Ozul was entirely wrong.

You had just finished to put your toiletries in the bathroom when you heard loud, obnoxious knocking on your room door. You cautiously went to open it, hand almost on the golden doorknob, when it suddenly - and violently - swung open. You had to jump back to save your toes from getting cut off.

“Heya, fellow neigbour.”

It was Angel, waltzing into your room and throwing himself on your freshly made bed with a long, lascivious sigh.

“Man, they gave you one of the good ones, lucky bitch. My room looks like a dump, compared. Well, maybe it's also because of all the toys and trash lying around, but I'm too hot to clean, 'ya know?”

He stretched himself loudly, and turned himself on his belly, facing you. His face was full of mischief.

“Can I help you, Angel?”, you asked calmly, softly shutting the door, leaving it open a bit, just in case. You hoped Ozul wouldn't barge back in here in plain sight. That would not be good.

“Ah, I just wanted to check 'ya out, calm your perky tits. Sooooo...” Angel wiggled his eyebrows. “You sure you're just an assistant to our own strawberry pimp? 'Ya never, you know... shed his antlers?”

No one would've NOT blushed at the very explicit gestures Angel made.

“A-Absolutely not.”

You felt heat creeping up your neck. Angel seemed disappointed, although he didn't give up on prying more.

“Hey, no judgment! I wouldn't blame 'ya, toots. I mean, you could fuck way worse down here. I bet 'ya good money he would be into some weird dominatrix-shit. Or a praise-kink! And he's kinda hot, if you don't mind the whole creepy dial-stare which is definately his O-face and the piss-stained teeth.” he picked on his nails, glancing at you playfully.

“Please don't talk about him like that.”, you steadied your voice, a hint of anger in it you just couldn't suppress which Angel immediately picked up. He let out a small, teasing laugh.

“Uh, kitty got claws. Okay, okay, no more dissing the deer daddy in front of his pet cat. But I'm just sayin'.”, the spider stood up, and oooooh yes, he was a spider alright. He used his four arms to push himself from your bed, ruining your hard work of smoothing the sheets out neatly. “I work in the business. And – aside these god-awful grandma-clothes, 'ya could get some fine ass down here. Those freaking eyes alone are meant for a million buck 'rail-me look'. Uuuuuh, mind if I take these? Thanks!”, he quickly grabbed two of the cookie-packs Charlie placed on a golden tray on your nightstand. “Fat Nuggets loves these.”

“Sure, I don't like raisin cookies anyway. Take all you want.”

You had a feeling it was best just to pick your battles, and cookies were definitely not it. Especially raisin cookies... And what was a Fat Nuggets?

“So... you've got the room next to mine?”

Angel sneered. “Yeah, so fair warning, if 'ya hear some 'loud noises' at night, don't come knocking, it ruins the mood.” He winked, and your treacherous ears twitched in a wave of amusement. Fucking traitors.

“I'll keep that in mind, but thanks for the warning.”

Be likable. You mentally checked to see your face was still void of any detectable expression, and added “Same goes to you, if I'll ever get some.”

Angel stared at you for a moment, mouth open in surprise, then he burst out laughing, patting you on the back.

“Oh shit, toots, you do have a little bite in ya. And here I thought you'd be as uptight and boring as your frigid boss. 'Ya know what? Tell me if 'ya ever wanna get 'ya nasty on. I'm not into chicks, but I know a few guys with really biiiiiig...”

“Please don't.”

“...Personalities.”, he gave you a grin not unlike a cheshire cat. “Anyway, gotta dip. See ya downstairs, puss-n-boobs.”

And with another laugh he was gone. You felt like at least that interaction went kind of well. You were... likable, weren't you? At least, he didn't leave mad like Vaggie or worried like Charlie, so you were pleased with that. A mocking hum made you almost jump, and you saw Ozul had indeed come back, looming in your vanity mirror. Fuck, when did he sneak in? What did he hear? You caught a glance of your face in the mirror. Your cheeks were still a little flushed from Angels lewd remarks. He was so... blunt, and absolutely no-nonsense about the idea of Alastor and you... NO! You scolded yourself for even thinking about it. That cheeky shadow buzzed, it sounded like an amused snicker.

“Oh, grow up.”

You quickly went back to the bathroom and splashed some icy water in your face. After checking your face to see the last reddish hue fade into ghostly gray, you ignored the snickering shadow and were out the door.

You skipped down the stairs – god, so many stairs, this place was in dire need of an elevator – and finally landed on the ground floor. You heard the lively sound of tableware and glasses clinking, muffled chatter, laughing and arguing. These people were so loud. It reminded you of your time in the academy. Which one was it again? The sound of people, coming together, spending time in a group, bound by a shared experience. Even as mundane as dinner. You followed the sound, but stopped when you saw the winged cat-demon, eyes sloppily closed, playing with cards at the bar. Alone. You hesitated, then you walked over.

“Go away kid, bar's closed.”, he grumbled, pulling away from you and swirling a dark, brown liquid in a glas.

“I don't want a drink. You are Husk right? I didn't get to properly introduce myself.”

His gaze went a bit darker, but he didn't stop the spiral movements of the thick, slightly dirty glas.

“No need to. I've got all I need to know about you when you came in with that piece of shit.”

He took a big gulp out of the glass, his eyes wandering away into the distance. You thought for a moment. He seemed angry at you, but you couldn't for the afterlife of you figure out why. You pulled over one of the barstools and sat down, resting your arms on the sticky bar, eyeing him curiously.

“I guess you don't like my boss very much?”

Husk huffed, growling. "No shit."

“And because I chose to work for him, you don't like me very much either?”, you inquired, tilting your head a bit, softening your face into what you thought was a understanding expression.

“If you're not one of the stupid fucks like me who made the mistake of dealing with this clown – yeah. No one in their right mind would choose to be around that bastard.”

Oh. So Husk was another soul Alastor owned. You surpressed the urge to raise a brow at that. What did happen between them, you wondered silently.

“I see.”, you finally break the silence, playing with a few of the cards splayed around the bartop. “I won't reason against that, the 'not being in the right mind'. I mean, we are in hell, right, if I was right in the head I wouldn't be here? But I don't need to be like Alastor to work with him.” You made a little house of cards. Husk glanced at you, suspiciously.

“I just want to say, I hope you can get past my job and decide, whether you just don't like my position or me as a person, is all.” You stood up, placing the stool back neatly and looking at Husk, whose eyebrows twitched, unsure what to make of your statement. “Are you coming to dinner?”

“Nah, I'm covered.”, he refilled his glass and turned away. You sighed defeated and turned towards the humming voices. That would be one hard nut to crack at another time.

***

The dining table almost bent under the weight of the food, glasses and elbows. Dinner was as chaotic as suspected. Alastor's jambalaya was delicious – as always – but you hardly ate anything. Or rather: You didn't get to eat. Every time you wanted to take a bite, someone at the table asked you a question you tried you best to answer. You wished for five minutes of peace to just eat and listen, talking felt straining. Alastor sat to your left, casually conversing with Charlie. Angel sat on your right, viciously trying to get you to laugh by telling dirty jokes or whispering stories of 'funny' accidents at his porn shoots in finest details into your ear.

“Okay Rocky, I'll get out the big guns. Do 'ya know what the difference is between kinky and perverted?“

You sighed and put down your spoon. Again. Angel quickly found his favourite nickname for you, 'Rocky', because of your stone cold expression. „No Angel. What is the difference?“

Angel giggled, „Kinky is when you tickle 'ya girlfriend with a feather, perverted is when 'ya use the whole fucking chicken!“

Angel laughed loud and slammed his fists on the table. You just rolled your eyes.

“Mh. At least that one was better than your gynecologist joke.”, you deadpanned, finally shoving some food in your mouth. Angel gasped theatrically, a hand outraged on his chest fluff.

“Ex-fucking-cuse me, at least I have a sense of humor. You wouldn't get a good joke if it danced around you wearing a cheap elephant thong.”

You quickly brushed your hair back to hide the twitch in your ears. That came close.

“Angel, that poor girl will fully loose her appetite if you continue to pester her with these filthy antics.”, Alastor smirked dangerously. Angel returned his grin, leaning a bit over the table, eyebrows suggestively high. And you sat chewing, in between them, trying to disappear into thin air. Great.

“Aw smiles. I never took you for the kind of man to get so protective over a pussy.”

You choked on your food, coughing quietly. Alastor and Angel both looked at you, Angel delighted to have some kind of success in getting a reaction from you, Alastor exasperated and almost accusatory.

“Sorry, I bit into a jalapeno.”, you mumbled and hid behind your napkin as you patted your mouth. Charlie looked at you, bemused. She sat opposite of you, her plate almost cleaned.

“So, (Y/n), do you like it here so far?”

You nodded, still feeling Alastor's eyes on you. Be likable. “I do, it's very... lively. Reminds me of my time in the Academy.”

Charlie smiled to you, encouragingly. “Oh, I've been dying to ask – what did you do when... well, when you were alive?”

You chewed your food slowly to buy some time. “I was a performer. I've studied musical theater at the Academy, but never made big shows after graduating.”

Charlie was over the moon, bulldozing you with a million questions at once. Vaggie glared at you, her eyes narrowed. “So, you were an actress?” You didn't need to catch on, her thinly veiled accusation of you putting on an act was heard loud and clear. And by the static that bristled on your left, Alastor heard it too. You calmly gathered the rest of your Jambalaya on your spoon, ignoring her stare.

“More or less. Acting, singing, dancing. I've always liked the combination of all elements. After graduating, I stuck mostly to sing and dance though.”

Angel snorted. “No wonder you didn't make it, toots. Do you even have another look other than 'lobotomized'?”

“Angel!”, Charlie scolded, feeling very offended for you.

“What?! Look at her. All she does is this!”, he did a poor imitation of your expressionless face. He teasingly poked your side. “Maybe she just needs a really good shag to pull that frown upside down.” You felt Alastor's static prickling slipping through your clothes and all over your skin. He was getting really agitated. Shit. Be likable. What would someone like Angel find likeable and end this conversation?

“Well, Angel, if one good shag would make anyone smile, you should look like my boss by now.“

The whole table started giggling as Angel playfully protested, even Vaggies lips twitched, though she quickly turned her head. You heard a low chuckle from your left, out of the corner of your eyes you saw Alastors smile widen and his features relaxing. A sign of approval. You felt better.

The radio demon had also finished his meal and conjured a crystal decanter and a matching glass, sipping on something that looked like whiskey. You stood up and took the chance to flee further conversation, offering Niffty to help with clearing the table and washing the dishes. One by one, the others left after saying good night. Angel winked at you as he went back to his room. He was abrasively raunchy, yes, but aside that it felt like he would be a generally a nice, funny person to be around. Charlie gave you a warm smile before retreating to bed, and even Vaggie, although still frowning at you, nodded and wished you a somewhat-friendly good nights rest. The last to go was Niffty, enthusiastically thanking you for helping her clean before she jumped out of the dining room chasing after some rouge bugs, leaving you and Alastor alone.

“I've heard you steered the wild waters today quite smoothly, my dear.”, Alastor smiled in satisfaction, toasting to you. Your tail swished nervously. “I must say I expected nothing less from you. Good girl.”

His last words made your cheeks feel instantaneously hot and you quickly turned to the kitchenette to grab a bowl. “Thank you, sir.” Get a grip, (Y/n), Angel just got you in a really weird head space. “Alastor, dear. I think you've made very good progress with the princess, but I'm even more surprised our only guest seems to take a special liking to you.”

“I think Angel just finds it's funny to try and make me blush.”, you murmured, scooping some leftover jambalaya into the bowl.

“Yes, his sense of humor can be quite... obstreperous.”, he hummed, running a long finger on the rim of his now empty glass while intensely watching you, a subtle curl on his lips. “I sincerely hope you don't plan on taking him up on his offer, dear – I know for a fact he has a rather miserable taste in potential partners.”

You almost cut your hand off with the serrated knife you held as you cut a thick slice of cornbread. That fucking tattletale of a shadow.

“I most certainly will NOT.”

“Glad to hear that, kitten.” With a swish of his hand, he vanished the remaining cluttered dishes, the decanter and the glasses, leaving the kitchen and table sparkling. The deer demon swaggered over to you – thank god your face cooled down by now, and he leaned over your shoulder, eyeing the meal in your hands. He was oddly close. And warm. “Ah, darling, I'm happy to see that my mothers recipes never fail to impress. Are you planning on having a little midnight snack?”

“That's not for me.” You left him standing, looking very impish yourself and Alastor thought he could have even seen the hint of a smile tucking on your lips. With intrigued suspicion he watched you walk through the small corridor with the meal in your hands, melting into his shadows and attaching himself on your own to follow you unseen.

The sound of your clicking heels, not much unlike your masters, echoed in the now sinister looking, empty foyer, startling Husk awake from his alcohol-induced doze. He looked up through glossy, dark eyes, grumbling something about 'fucking loud-ass shoes' but shut up when you placed the portion you had prepared in front of him on the counter.

“In case you want to give your liver some well-deserved rest. It's still warm, and the corn bread is really tasty. Good night, Husk.”

You didn't wait for his reaction, or reply. Alastor's shadow detached from yours with a giddy fizz and scurried away. When you reached the staircase, you could hear the satisfying sound of cutlery against porcelain. One step at a time.

“Listen, Vaggie, I hear you. But (Y/n) hasn't even been here a day, and she's given us no reason to be so... distrustful.” “Hon. I love that you see only the good and nice in people, I do. But I don't want that to be a weakness they can exploit.”

He listened closely, hidden in the shadows of the corridor. Such a stroke of luck, but he had always had a habit on being in the right place at the right time. This conversation was definitely not intended for his ears.

“Well I refuse to judge her before I even got to really know her. You try to look out for me, for the hotel, and that's like....great. But we need to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“I don't have a good feeling about her, Charlie... Even if she is not a bad person per se, if that asshole is using her...” “Then we'll show her compassion and we will help her, not throw her out. Alastor may be the radio demon, but I'm not a nobody. If she is really being used, we can show her that we all be there for her and protect her. 'Killing with kindness', you know that's what I'm best at.”

“I know, I know, you are right... Just... we need to be careful.”

The room became quiet, and Alastor had no intention to linger. He heard what he needed to hear and soundlessly vanished, flowing into his shadows and into his own room.

The little exchange was indeed interesting. He wasn't surprised at all about Vaggie's apprehension of his little doll, and Charlies naive sense of benevolence in her defense. No, no, no, that was to be expected. What was out of the ordinary was the comical belief that they could turn (Y/n) against him. Ah, such simple minds they had, he thought bemused. He did good on keeping the deal with her a secret. They would've been much more hostile if they knew about the circumstances. He took off his overcoat and hung it up his coat rack. He sat down in his armchair by the fire, watching over to his conjured swamp. Fireflies illuminated the bayou in a soft green and yellow light. It never failed to calm him, looking over the shimmering water, listening to the soft rustle of the cattails. He closed his eyes and smelled the damp and musky scents. Fatigue crept into his limbs, heavier and more intense than usual. Maybe, he thought, his body could allow itself to sacrifice a part of this night for a little sleep. But his mind was as busy and restless as always, and he supposed he would have to settle for just this small moment of tranquility. A soft knock on the door pulled him back to the present. He glanced at his wall clock. It was almost midnight. He sighed and walked over to the door. Whoever it was that disturbed him now, they'd better have a good reason. He opened his room to two golden eyes, shifting in colors of the rainbow by the firelight.

“Why kitten, what brings you to my humble abode at this unholy time?”

He tilted his head, surprised to see her - She had never visited his room at night. His gaze wandered to her black satin dressing gown – Rosie insisted on gifting it to her - loosely thrown over a simple, cream-colored leisure suit. She wore her hair down as if she had already gotten ready for her night's rest. A steaming mug rested in her hands, it smelled like vanilla, honey and lavender.

“I'm sorry to intrude this late.”, she spoke softly, almost a whisper. “I came to bring you this...”

She reached into the pocket of her gown, pulling out something round and golden and familiar. His pocket watch. His eyes widened.

“I went down into the kitchen to get a glass of water and found it hidden behind the fruit bowl. I was sure it was yours, so I wanted to return it to you right away.”

His hand reached out and brushed her delicate fingers as he retrieved his possession. He hadn't even noticed it wasn't in it's usual pocket in his overcoat. He must have forgotten to put it back after he had finished cooking. He felt a bit annoyed at his own negligence. He really should get some sleep....

“It is indeed mine, and very precious to me. How very thoughtful of you, my dear.”

She just nodded, a gesture that had become so common to her. Then she held out the cup to him.

“You looked a bit weary today, so... I made a cup of hot milk for you. To sleep better.”

There were only a few times in his hellish life Alastor could recall that he had been caught off guard. This was one of them. Fortunately, one strength of his was his unfaltering smile, he was trained in keeping his impulsive emotions under control. But underneath this familiar mask he stared at the small, weak servant of his, her arm patiently streched out to him, in absolute astonishment. He carefully took the cup from her. It was piping hot. Freshly made.

“I'll leave you to rest now. Good night, Alastor.” “Sleep tight, kitten.”

And with that, she turned on her heels and quickly blended with the darkness of the corridor. He closed the door slowly when her footsteps became only an echo, and looked at the beverage in his hands. His shoulders shook, and finally, he allowed himself to laugh. His shadows swirled and purred, startled by the bellowing laughter of their master. When he sat back down by the fire, he still chuckled. He brought the cup to his lips, savoring the creamy, subtly sweet taste. Poor, poor naive princess. She would do better to prepare herself for bitter disappointment. This girl was his.

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