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vettelsvee · 5 months ago

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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 3: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAMA! [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 4462

summary: y/n discovers not only that she went viral on youtube on her birthday and that she's offered a reunion with capital records, but also has to face a possible reunion with seb after having no contact with him for four, almost five, years

warnings: settled on april 2018. curse words, angst, mention to y/n being friends with a certain guy who's a singer and used to be a dyed blond (we'll get to know how they met and also hope you like this cameo!). y/n refusing to have any news of seb. translated german (almost every one calls emily mäuschen, which means little mouse).

taglist: [@saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife ]

a/n: i had to post this, especially today heheh. hope you like this part as much as you seemed to like the others! i'll be waiting for your comments and anons (honestly, daily serotonin), and also remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated <3

2018

April 27th Heppenheim, Germany

If someone had told you a few years ago that your thirtieth birthday would be like any other day, you wouldn't have believed them.

As every morning, you had woken up, although today it wasn’t the light entering through the window that woke you. The voices of Emily and your parents singing "Happy Birthday" in unison were the reason for your abrupt awakening. You forced yourself to hold back tears when you saw your daughter approaching you, with the help of your mother, with a cake in her little hands. Your father was taking the utmost care to ensure the lit candle didn’t go out before you blew it out, and you noticed their pitiful glances falling on you.

You understood. Since you became a mother, you knew what it was like to suffer for a child.

“Happy birthday, Mama!”

After sitting up in bed, you took your daughter in your arms and sat her between your legs. You quickly wiped away the tears and, after clapping a few more times with her, you suggested you both to blow out the yellow candle, your favorite color, together.

Your only wish for that year, as it had been for the previous four, was to finally be able to talk to Seb and explain the real reason why you left in Barcelona almost 5 years ago.

With that thought firmly in your mind, you said goodbye to your parents, who headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. You quickly got out of bed, took the clothes you had chosen the night before for Emily and yourself, and dressed her while you told her the sugar-coated version of how you met her father and how happy you were, as you always did almost every time to her since she loved that story. Shortly after you were already dressed, and both of you were heading to the kitchen, where two bowls of cereal were already set on the counter.

“Mommy, what did you wish for?”

The little one's question took you by surprise. If there was something that characterized her and made you think of her father, it was her great curiosity. Not to mention her clearly defined blonde curls and her entire face.

Denying that she was Sebastian's daughter was impossible, and that's how Heike found out she was a grandmother.

“It’s a secret, mäuschen,” you replied, starting to cough immediately, trying not to choke on the spoonful of cereal you had already put in your mouth. “I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

“But is it something nice?” she insisted.

“Well, I suppose…”

You noticed that your mother was watching you with concern while she dried the freshly washed dishes.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take Emily to Hanna’s house?” she asked, interrupting your daughter's incessant questions. “I know you have to clean the bar thoroughly and it takes you quite some time.”

“No, don’t worry,” you assured her. “I want to take a walk with Emily and buy something for Heike and Norbert. Emily wants to see them today,” you explained.

“Norbert told me the other day that we could go feed the baby ducks at the lake!”

Your former in-laws knew that your daughter was their granddaughter, that she was Sebastian’s daughter, but Emily didn’t know they were her paternal grandparents, and for now, you preferred it to stay that way.

You couldn’t deny that it hurt you, but you knew things could be much worse if the couple hadn’t been so understanding. If Heike had believed that you really cheated on her son when you met two months after you had broken all ties with him and his family...

“I also want to buy them something. You know, it’s what I’ve always done,” your mother nodded with a slight smile, perfectly understanding what you meant.

“Have you thought of anything specific, honey?”

“I know Heike went to the market the other day and saw a pot of tulips that caught her attention,” the flower Seb used to give you whenever he had the chance. “I hope there are still some left.”

“I'm sure there will be. You’ll see how you brighten their day.”

I’m sure, you thought to yourself as you finished breakfast. Once you were done and made sure you were a bit tidied up and had everything you needed, you and Emily said goodbye to your parents with the promise of returning in the evening to have dinner together, although you knew you would end up doing overtime at work.

The little one’s blonde hair, completely loose, was tangled by the wind. Her boots were covered in mud because all she did was jump in puddles without letting go of her right hand from yours, and her left from the handle of the Peppa Pig backpack she carried on her shoulders.

“Mommy, why do I have to stay with Aunt Hanna today? It’s your birthday…”

“I have to work, mäuschen,” you said as calmly as you could, trying not to succumb to her gaze. “We have to help granny and pops buy food, pay the rent…”

“But granny and pops are your parents! They have to take care of you like you take care of me,” she interrupted.

You continued chatting cheerfully during the short walk from your house to the flower shop. While the clerk attended to you, Emily couldn’t stop pointing at all the flowers and giving them made-up names.

A few minutes later, you had already paid and arrived at your best friend’s house, who was already waiting for you at her door, arms crossed until she opened them as your daughter ran towards her.

“How is my favorite person in the world today?”

“I’m very good because today is Mommy’s birthday, Aunt Hanna!” she replied, burying herself in her arms. “Mommy said we can go see Heike and Norbert!”

“I bought them yellow tulips.”

You raised the bag with the pot and shrugged as she gave you a disapproving look.

You knew perfectly well that she was thinking the same as you, and you couldn’t agree more. But how were you supposed to tell Sebastian that he had a four-year-old daughter out of nowhere?

You tried to hold back the tears forming in your eyes when you heard the blonde telling your daughter that cartoons were on TV and that she should go watch them because she needed to talk to you. Fortunately, she didn’t object.

“I’m not going to tell you what you should do because we’ve been like this for almost five years and you’re old enough to make your own decisions, but…”

“I want to tell him, Hanna,” you blurted out, finally revealing what had been on your mind so many times. “I don’t know when or how, but I’m going to tell Seb that she’s his daughter.”

“I was going to ask if you were okay, but I see you’re not.”

Her face was completely serious, and you sweared that if today weren’t your birthday and you weren’t more sensitive than usual, she would have given you one of the biggest scoldings of your life.

“You know today is a difficult day for me,” you confessed what she already knew. You handed her the bag with the pot you had bought for Heike, and she hesitated whether to take it or not. “Would you mind taking this to Heike’s house? Emily is eager to see her, and I… I can’t go. Not today.”

“Y/N…”

Still holding the pot tightly to her chest and her compassionate eyes piercing you, you noticed her hesitation, finally speaking after a few seconds that felt like an eternity.

“Have you seen how the video is coming along?”

Your heart raced just thinking about the video you uploaded to YouTube yesterday, singing Red. You hadn’t checked its performance, and it wasn't your intention. Like every birthday, you had turned off your mobile phone and ensured the next time you turned it on, it would be with Hanna present to delete the email your ex-boyfriend sent you annually at midnight on your birthday.

“I haven’t seen it, and I don’t plan to,” you responded quickly, turning away. Her hand caught your wrist swiftly, forcing you to turn around. “Come on, Hanna, I have to go to work.”

“I want to talk about this, Y/N. You can’t act like nothing happened. You can’t keep avoiding it.”

“I don’t want to know anything about that, Hanna,” you answered aggressively, referring to any birthday wishes from the German. “I don’t want to read things I shouldn’t. Besides, considering he has free practice today, do you really think he wished me a happy birthday?”

“You should read it, Y/N. I know things between you and Seb aren’t what they used to be, but still…”

“No, Hanna, I don’t want to read it today, tomorrow, or ever.”

With those words, you turned away without even saying goodbye and started walking towards the bar where you worked, for once in your life, determined and with your head held high.

As you walked away, your friend’s voice grew louder, insisting on what you had already made clear you didn’t want:

“Y/N, you should read Seb’s damn message! Damn it, it could be important!”

You stopped for a moment, feeling a lump in your throat as Hanna’s unusual yelling and cursing echoed in your ears.

You turned once again, now facing her but much less determined and, to be honest, a bit scared, though that didn’t mean you would back down or change an opinion you constantly changed out of fear of facing the situation and wanting to change it.

“I don’t want to talk about Seb, Hanna! Just do me a favor and take the pot to Heike, please!” you yelled, feeling the anger taking over you.

“Y/N, I understand you’re confused and want to tell Seb. Maybe today is a good opportunity to get in touch again and…”

“Damn it, Hanna, I already told you I don’t want to talk about this!”

Your shouts were out of control. Your voice trembled, and so did the rest of your body. You hated talking about Seb and not knowing how to handle the situation, but you hated even more when Emily saw you like this and felt guilty for everything.

Now, with tears in her eyes, your daughter’s little head peeked timidly through the front door, unable to control herself as you were.

Once again, you had failed her as you had promised you wouldn’t.

“Hanna…” you said to the blonde, now calmer. You pointed to the child with your head, and she turned to look at her subtly. “I don’t want her to think I don’t love her or that all the problems are her fault, so please: don’t mention Sebastian when we’re together and she’s around. I don’t want to feel like an even worse mother than I already do most days.”

“Understood, no problem. I won’t bring him up in front of the little one.”

You prayed it would be that way, not just on the way to the bar, which wasn’t far from Hanna’s house, but also once you were inside and started preparing everything. While sweeping and mopping, you tried to avoid the mobile phone, but it was impossible. It had been resting on the counter, still off, since you arrived, and you tried your best to keep it that way. You had your daughter, your parents, and your best friend by your side; Niall, since you told him what happened with your ex, started sending you a postcard a few days before just in case it didn’t arrive on time. Even your ex-in-laws met with you, if not the day before, the day after.

What you were trying to avoid at all costs was the damn email that Sebastian sent every April 27th, which you wished you could read but didn’t because you knew it would leave you shattered.

You sighed and ended up taking the device, knowing that if you wanted to reveal the truth to the sunshine of your life, today was a good day to do it, as Hanna had told you.

“Mommy! We have a present for you!”

You jumped when you heard your daughter’s shouts. She and Hanna were running and walking, respectively, towards you. The little one was carrying a bag in one hand in which you could see the head of Billy, her favorite stuffed panda.

She didn’t hesitate to hand you the bag, with the teddy bear included, as soon as she got beside you. Hanna also approached you as you focused on your daughter, holding a cake in her hands.

“Don’t say anything,” she started, knowing you would ask why. “It was Heike’s idea, and since she knows how much you like cookie cake…”

“Especially hers,” you replied with a laugh, remembering all the times you and her son asked her to make that cake beyond special occasions. “God, you don’t know how much I appreciate it. Did she like the tulips?”

She nodded, placing the cake on the counter.

“She said they would have been better if you had given them to her. She wants to see you, Y/N,” she added.

“I know.”

“Do you want us to blow out the candles again, Mommy?”

Emily’s interruption and question took you completely by surprise. It was impossible to resist the sparkle in her eyes and her curved lips; it was as if you were denying Seb, not her.

“Of course, darling.”

Despite how mentally bad you felt, you made an effort not to show it. You took your daughter in your arms, and together you approached the cake. Prater started the singing, and Emily and you joined her immediately, swaying from side to side.

You blew out the candles as soon as they started clapping and, for once in your life, you wished to see Seb again, even if just for a moment.

A welcome, a new beginning or a farewell, a definitive goodbye. At this point you really didn't care much about it.

Thinking too much about Sebastian Vettel in the past few weeks had been the real reason you decided to publish Red yesterday. As you had composed it while pregnant with Emily.

Seeing your daughter not only playing on the little stage where you were used to sing almost every night with a couple of toy cars, including her father’s Ferrari Formula 1 car, and her stuffed animal, reminded you of the countless times Seb and you promised each other this life, but together.

“First of all, I don’t want you to panic, but… you have to see this.”

Hanna Prater’s words scared you like they rarely did.

With her phone in hand and without saying a word, she placed it in front of you, revealing the views the YouTube video you uploaded had garnered in just a day.

Your eyes widened at the high number on the screen. A small scream escaped your lips, startling Hanna, who imitated you, and even Emily, who ran towards you with great concern on her face.

“Mommy, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, darling,” you assured her, trying to contain the shock. “Keep playing. Aunt Hanna and I are talking about some things for my birthday party tonight.”

Your answer seemed to calm her. She nodded with a smile and returned to the stage, leaving you alone again.

"Yes, I know, Hanna, I have to improvise a birthday party now. I swear I'll do it as soon as we finish all this," you replied, anticipating her reproach.

Hanna shook her head and buried herself in her phone again. She seemed completely engrossed in it; her fingers were constantly moving across the screen, worrying you about everything she was trying to show you.

Hanna, I need you to tell me if it's Y/N in this link.

I mean, you don't have to tell me because I know it's her. She sounds exactly like Y/N, and she plays the piano, which is a plus because Y/N knows how to play the piano.

God, I feel like a mix of Sherlock and a stalker.

You understand me, so...

Jeez, tell her to answer to the message I've sent her, please.

I just want to know if the song is about us or if I'm just getting my hopes up four years after breaking up.

And, with those words and butterflies invading your stomach, you clicked on the link he attached. There you were, playing the piano while singing a song about the same guy who had not only talked to your best friend but also to you.

"Did Seb send you that message?" you wanted to know, thinking it was really a joke.

She nodded.

"It seems he didn't just send you the annual email, but also a WhatsApp message."

"A message and an email that, by the way, I am not going to read. Neither of them," you assured her.

"He knows you sing Red, and he suspects Red is about him," your friend began to say. "Don't you think there are too many coincidences for you two to, I don't know, talk or something?"

"I have nothing to talk to him about," you replied.

"Emily's existence means nothing to you then?"

It meant everything, but you had mixed feelings about telling Sebastian.

He was going to hate you, that was clear, but you didn't want that hate to end up being directed at Emily because of something that was completely your fault.

"Emily means everything to me, but I can't let Seb know, at least not for now. He has many chances of winning the championship this year finally, and..."

Once again, another excuse to avoid reality and the fear you had of rejection.

"Y/N, I love you so much and you know it, but you can't keep going on like this," Prater stated, raising her voice a little. "His parents know, yours know; I know, and possibly a large majority of people in this town. For God's sake, even Britta knows, and I don't even know how she hasn't told him yet!"

"Britta came..."

"I know perfectly well that Britta came looking for an explanation, just what Seb didn't do and maybe should have done even though you asked for space," she interrupted you, wanting to continue her impromptu speech. "If you want to move forward, you have to face your fear for once. If you won't do it for yourself, at least do it for Emily. She deserves to know her father and not ask me why her little friends in kindergarten have dads and she doesn't."

Her words made you feel like the villain of the story, the one doing everything wrong. You wanted to ignore her advice and, as always, avoid the subject, but you knew she was right.

"I can't, Hanna. I can't turn on the mobile phone. Not today."

"Allow yourself to start your thirties on the right foot. Don't you think it's better to face fear with someone than to go through it alone? You have me here for whatever you need, Y/N, and you know it."

You let out a long sigh. You walked to the bar, took your cell phone in your trembling hands, and turned it on, feeling the anxiety and uncertainty increase as the device slowly lit up.

When you entered the code and unlocked it, notifications started to appear.

You gradually checked the YouTube notifications, seeing the overwhelming number of likes and comments. Hanna, whose head was peeking to try to see something, shushed you when you ignored the YouTube-related emails and moved on to the text messages, caring little about what she thought.

Niall told you that going viral on your birthday was not only the best thing that could happen to you and the best birthday present they could have given you, but also a whimsical sign from fate to do something worthwhile with your music. At the end of the message, the Irishman asked you to call him when you could, as it was important.

You moved on to Sebastian's PR message, completely ignoring the Irishman's nudge and other various birthday greetings. Britta asked how you could post a video, singing, without telling her anything and, much less, singing about her client. She said you were crazy and lucky that Vettel hadn't suspected anything about the song or, fortunately, about mäuschen.

You calmed down a bit, but the tranquility barely lasted. Seb's message was the one at the top of the WhatsApp home page. It was more than obvious that it was the most recent, from just an hour ago. Also, it was the least one you wanted to open.

You looked up at Hanna, seeking confirmation you knew you didn't need, and that she had already given you.

"Open it, Y/N. It's okay."

You had to be alone when you did it. You asked your friend to take care of Emily and wait for a moment, that you'd be back in a few moments.

You went into the bathroom. You positioned yourself in one of the corners and sat on the floor, legs crossed and the phone in your hands, and started having flashbacks of the day you broke up with Seb.

Happy birthday, Y/N.

If you can and, above all, want to, please read the email I sent you.

I know it's you. The girl behind the song that went viral, I mean.

The song is great, but I couldn't expect anything less from you. It's pure art.

Your tears were already falling down your face. You took a deep breath and forced yourself, though it might not have been better in your current situation, to open the message your ex was talking about.

As usual, you had received it at midnight. And, of course, the profile picture was still one of the two of you lying in bed, him kissing you, and you smiling, just as you were now.

Dear sunshine of my life,

Happy birthday. Or better said: happy thirtieth birthday.

I know we haven't heard from each other directly in four years. Maybe you see me on TV from time to time, or maybe not, and the last time I saw you was a few years ago, but that's not the point.

Maybe I wasn't the best boyfriend in the world, nor the best friend. I still wonder what I did to make you leave like that, but I won't blame you, at least not after so much time. I miss you more than I can express, and you don't know what I would give to have the chance to fix things between us.

I can't ask you to forgive me, nor can I force you to come back to me or to have a friendship, cordiality or whatever you want to call it, but I hope we can find the opportunity to forgive each other.

If you're ever ready to talk, or for anything you want, I will always be waiting for you, just as I have done for these past four, almost five, years.

P.S.: My mother always tells me she makes a cookie cake for your birthday, so I hope for your thirtieth she makes a special one and you all enjoy it as you deserve.

Tears blurred your vision as you continued reading Sebastian's words. A wave of emotions, ranging from anger and disappointment to perhaps, confusion, flooded every part of your body.

You began to write that you wanted to talk to him, that what you most desired in this world and what you most regretted was the ultimatum you gave him. That you could meet whenever he wanted to tell him everything that had happened since that day in Barcelona. That Emily is his daughter, that she looks more like him every day, and that you're convinced the moment he meets her, she'll become his favorite person.

After rereading all your words, written in desperation, you stopped.

You couldn't send him that; you couldn't reply, at least not yet. You couldn't give him false hopes, not when the possibility that revealing Emily's existence might affect the championship he so longed for with Ferrari, not just since he joined the team in 2015, but since you both barely knew yourselves.

You decided to delete the message and, instead, phone Horan's number, promising yourself that you would reply to Seb as soon as you hung up. You dried your tears, inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to calm down a bit more, and left the bathroom with much more confidence than when you entered, as you heard the phone ringing.

Emily was still playing, now dancing to some music, while Hanna was speaking too heatedly in your native language with someone. You tried to pay attention to what the blonde was saying, but the Irishman's voice on the phone caught you off guard:

"Next week. London. Joseph Benson being your personal Britta, maybe?"

You didn't understand anything, and the mere mention of Roeske made you shudder. You knew Niall had done it with the best of his intentions, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"What?"

"Capital Records, Y/N," Niall affirmed. "They heard Red and, although they don't know who you are or who the girl behind the song is, better said, I want to introduce you to them. Maybe I told them I knew the girl behind that..."

You saw your friend ending the call too quickly just to approach you, visibly desperate. She made some gestures, grabbing your arms to try get your attention.

"Jeez, Hanna, wait," you replied grumpily in German.

"Is Hanna there?" the singer wanted to know. "Say her hi for me, and thanks in advance for taking care of Emily next week!"

"We'll talk about it later, Niall. People are starting to come into the bar."

With that excuse, and without giving him time to finish talking, you hung up. You turned to Hanna, who was still desperate, making you also start to get desperate and worried.

"What happened?" you demanded to know, considering she hadn't said anything yet.

"I just talked to Sebastian and Britta."

Her expression had now become more serious. Your chest started to ache, and your heart began to beat faster.

"And...?"

"Sebastian is coming next week," she said in a low voice so your daughter wouldn't hear. "I know you'll come up with some excuse, and that you also have to talk to Niall about I don't know, but he wants to talk. Seb wants to talk to you... seriously."

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jasntodds · 6 months ago

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Penance [4]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,682

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

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 might have gotten this idea from 911 but that's fine lol I hope you guys like it!! 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 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

As the next day comes around, it takes Jason some time to convince Tim not to go looking for Venta if they’re going out later. Tim is thrilled to be helping with the Penguin to the point Jason finds the whole thing a little funny. Jason was always excited to go out as Robin. It was the coolest thing ever but Tim really is over the moon about it. Jason doesn’t think Tim has ever been happier about it and it actually worries him.

As much as Jason is happy for him, he is worried. He’s worried Tim will put his all into Robin and lose himself in it, just like Dick and Jason did. Robin was never something they got to do. It was given to them as a way to cover up their grief. It was a way to weaponize their grief rather than work through it. Jason hopes that won’t be the case for Tim. It doesn’t seem that way. It seems he just wants it for the greater good and he’s just excited. And the way he’s excited is still very serious like he knows he can’t let that excitement out onto the field so he lets it out now where it’s safe. It’s something he knows he has to take seriously. Jason worries but he hopes it’ll work out because he can tell that Tim will be a good Robin.

You meet the boys back at Jason's around midnight, a case in hand with your suit. You're pretty excited to go out on a mission with not only Tim for the first time, but also Jason. You really miss that stuff with him. But, with Tim, it’s new and you're excited to see how he does. No one can’t stop him from being Robin and being out there, so you might as well embrace it and that’s what you're doing even if you're terrified of it.

“Really gonna take down the Penguin.” Tim says almost in awe once you're dressed and back in the main corridor downstairs.

“Pretty sure we’re not taking him down, really.” You nod your head as Tim moves his staff around with pent-up energy.

“Kind of.” Tim defends.

“We’re just securing the guns and turning them over to Babs.” Jason reminds him as he walks in now in his Red Hood suit, the helmet on his hip. “Not taking out Penguin, he’s not even supposed to be there this time.”

“The fuck he is doing that he’s not gonna be at his own shipment?” You question, your stare directly at Jason and you can't help but feel maybe that's a bit weird.

“Fuck if I know, Penguin things.” Jason lets out a scoff. "Could think we wouldn't come for him since we haven't." Jason shrugs casually, it's not the first time Penguin hasn't been around so he isn't too concerned about it.

“What a weirdo.” You let out a sigh, shrugging the uneasiest from your bones with the ease of Jason's voice.

“Yeah.” Jason chuckles softly. “Alright, let’s get going. Tim, you ride with her.” Jason hands Tim a spare helmet. Jason heads for the exit, the two of you right behind him. “And just make sure you do what we say.”

“Got it.” Tim nods.

“Then, let’s get out of here.” Jason nods once as the three of you exit the building.

The three of you ride over to the warehouse near Harbor that Penguin is using. The three of you get to a roof, laying down to look over the edge as the three of you closely watch as the shipment is taken from one of the boats and moved into the warehouse. Penguin isn’t here it seems and only a handful of his goons are. That’s a red flag, Jason and you can both sense it. You exchange a glance but you're already here and you gave Babs a heads up. It'd be a little hard to leave now so you just keep watching, hoping this won't cause too many problems.

Once the lot is cleared of goons, the three of you make your way to the roof of the warehouse, Tim trailing along well. On top of the roof, there's a skylight where you can see the crates in the center of the room with the goons armed and looking around. This isn't anything you and Jason haven't done before so you both give Tim a quick rundown of a plan. Tim gets two goons while you and Jason will take out the rest and if he's in trouble just call out. Once Tim seems to be up to speed, Jason and you break the window first, using your grappling hooks to lower yourselves down quickly, Tim right behind with his own grappling hook.

You take your own four goons with ease while Jason takes the other four, leaving Tim with just the two. You and Jason find yourselves looking over your shoulders to make sure Tim isn’t laid out but every time you both check, he seems to be holding his own pretty well. By the time you and Jason have your goons down, Tim has his down, a proud smile on his face.

“I got them.” Tim says breathlessly. “Wasn’t so bad.”

You look over to Jason with the roll of your eyes. “Okay, Robin.” You nod once before you let out a breath.

“Let’s make sure everything is here and we’ll put in the call.” Jason says as the three of you start opening the crates finding several automatic weapons.

“What’s he doing with all of them anyway?” Tim asks, standing beside you.

“Penguin things.” You and Jason say at the same time.

“Right…” Tim lets out a breath.

This has gone pretty well so far according to you and Jason but that is what's not sitting right. Nothing with these guys ever goes exactly according to plan. That was one of the reasons Jason wanted to bring Tim so he would have to learn to adapt but nothing else is happening. Penguin isn't here and his goons barely even put up a fight. You need to get out of here, this isn't right.

“You didn’t think this would be that easy did you?” A nasally voice says from the platform above the three of you.

The three of you turn to see Penguin with his right hand right next to him. He looks a bit too excited and happy to be here. Jason wants to bang his head against a wall and you're nearly rolling your eyes into the back of your head. This was too easy and for Penguin to seem awfully pleased with himself, this is about to get very bad.

“We can take your goons all night, man. Or you can just walk the fuck away.” Jason offers as he crosses his arms.

Penguin tilts his head back and laughs. “That won’t be necessary. The two of you really are some replacements. And you even have your own sidekick!”

“Hey!” Tim yells, taking a step forward.

You grab his arm with a tight grip. “Shut up.” You grit your teeth at him. "Sounds like you could use a sidekick or two though." You quip back to Penguin. "Planning this with the Bat to of town? What? You scared or something, Penguin?"

“I'm not scared." Penguin says it so casually it sends a chill down your spine. "I knew you’d get in the way which is why I prepared for that!” Pengiun chimes. "You really should know something about that, Red Hood." Penguin mocks before he pulls out a detonator.

A bomb. Of course, it’s a fucking bomb.

“Have fun.” Penguin smiles at the three of you before he presses the button and immediately starts walking out.

You and Jason exchange a stare as a ticking echoes around you. You won’t have time. Penguin planned this so you wouldn’t have time even with his warning. There's no time to find the bomb and disable it, there's not even enough time to get out of the building. How did you both miss this?

It's all going in slow motion as Jason can see the panic wanting to stretch over your face, Tim looking petrified right beside you. There isn’t time to even reach you. And even if there was, what’s he supposed to do? He can’t catch a building. There’s only one thing to do and it’s as if you share the exact same thought that he does in that single second.

Jason and you turn at the same time to run towards the exit, you grabbing Tim by the arm to drag him along. The ticking quickens from above you. You’re out of time. You’re out of time and there’s nothing else left to do. The ticking echoes and echoes and in a split second, Jason is running behind a pillar and you grab the edge of your cape before wrapping it around Tim as you tackle him to the ground.

And the bomb goes off less than a second later.

The warehouse rumbles and vibrates as Jason is tucked into a ball behind the pillar, his hands covering his neck as if waiting for a tornado to hit. The rumbling shakes his bones and it’s so loud. Every rumble and echo shatter through his bones. His eyes are slammed shut as the warehouse fills with smoke as the roof starts to collapse. Jason’s chest starts to burn and it shouldn’t.

The mask has a ventilator. His chest shouldn’t hurt but it does and he thinks his ears are bleeding. His bones are stinging. Why are his bones stinging? Why is so hard to breathe? His eyes burn and sting even with them closed. Not again. This can't be happening again. Panic spreads itself over Jason like an itchy weighted blanket. He doesn't want to die again. Dying is terrifying and the building is collapsing around him. A part of him thinks he can hear the crude laugh of the Joker echoing somewhere through the shattering concrete. It all feels too much and he can't breathe. Every part of him is shaking as he's been left out to the elements in the middle of February. This can't be happening.

And then it all falls eerily silent.

Jason's breath is quick and uneven as he tries to ground himself. It's silent, the collapsing is over. It takes him a few minutes to try to gather himself, desperately trying to pull his mind away from the edge of terror. This is the first time something like this has happened since the Joker. Jason thinks the fear isn't any better the second time around.

He thinks it's worse.

But, he finds it in himself to finally slowly pull his hands away from his neck, his arms feeling like warm jello as they shake. He slowly sits up partially, looking around what was the warehouse. It’s cloudy, filled with dust and smoke. It’s hard to even see a few feet in front of him but he looks over to where you last were with Tim and he can’t see anything. The dust is too thick and he can’t help but let the panic start to flood his blood again.

He has the helmet. His eyes are protected but what about yours? Your mask has a ventilator but what if it doesn’t work? Do you even communicate enough with Bruce to make sure your equipment is working? And Tim doesn’t have any eye protection or a ventilator. It doesn’t matter if you're on your own, you and Tim are Jason’s responsibility. He’s the most experienced. He should have known this wasn’t right. Something should have went off in his head. He should have fucking known. Why didn’t he know?

The dust starts to dissipate with every passing second and Jason gets a better glimpse where you and Tim last were. He swears he’s going to be sick as his heart stops beating as it shoots into his throat. There’s a pile of cement from the ceiling. A long pile where that part of the ceiling collapsed and there is no sight of blue or red. There’s not yellow or black. It’s just brown and grey.

No.

Jason gets to his feet as fast as his legs will allow him and he sprints over to the cement. Not you. Not you. Not you. It can’t be you. He grabs one of the cement blocks and starts trying to pull it away to make a hole in the pile. He can feel the panic taking over again.

It’s been better. It’s been better again since he started seeing Leslie again. He can feel the panic sometimes but it’s better. He can fight through it usually and it doesn’t cause him as much distress out in the field. But, now it’s coming back like a wrecking ball. It’s been easier because he hasn’t had someone to look out for. It’s been easier because he hasn’t had to worry even if he always does. It was always fine if he had to eat it. But, being here and digging through a pile of cement in hopes you’re both alive, that’s different.

If he had to die again, that'd be fine as terrifying as it is. But, the thought it being someone else, being people that he actually cares about, that's an entirely other story.

“Blue!” Jason yells as loud as his can, his voice is raw and he hates the sound of it in his ears. It sounds desperate and scared but he is both of those things. Not you. “Robin!” He calls after, this time stronger, hoping he’ll hear one of you yell back.

The thought of seeing you crushed brings instant tears to his eyes and his stomach twist. He thinks about how you haven’t talked in a month and that’s such a waste. Why the fuck didn’t he just call you? He should have fucking called you. He’s panicking and he hates it but seeing you dead is his greatest fear today. He knows what it’s like to die and to die scared. You were scared. You don’t deserve it. It can’t be you. Please, not you.

And he knows Dick is gonna kill him if Tim dies on his watch. Tim just started and he volunteered for this. He can't be punished for wanting to do something for the greater good, for just wanting to help. It can’t be Tim either. Somehow, you both need to be alive under this pile.

Jason’s teeth grit before he rips the helmet from his head, annoyed by the vision of it. And he gets to work on the cement again. You both have to be alive. There is not another option. You have to be. And then he gets a glimpse of a bright blue fabric.

Jason forgets how to breathe and he works faster, pulling the concrete away as fast as his muscles will even allow. He’s able to make a big enough hole in the pile to reach you and just as he looks into the hole, there’s movement. He still isn’t breathing as he waits to see who it is and not a single part of him can even think to hope who he wants it to be because it has to be both of you.

And then you look up at him.

Jason lets out a breath.

Your eyes are wide and your face is covered in dust, a stream of blood falling down the side of your face. But he can tell by the softness in your eyes that you're relieved to see him, too.

The building fell on you and Tim. The building fucking collapsed on you and you have no idea why you thought your cape would help but it was something you could try. And then you got pinned. You think you’d normally start to panic because you were practically entirely on top of Tim and you couldn’t move. You both could have been trapped there but you know Jason has a habit of living through some fucked up shit. Something in you knew if he made it, he’d be there. He’d never let either of you rot under a pile of concrete. You knew he’d come.

Jason always comes.

And then Tim looks up, too.

Jason shakes his head, looking down for a second to gather himself before he offers a hand. You take his hand in yours as Jason pulls you out. He’s careful but deliberate making sure you don’t slip. Once you're on solid ground, he wastes no time in looking you over, his hands coming to your cheeks.

Besides the blood coming from a small cut near your hairline, Jason doesn’t see any other visible injuries. It doesn’t bring him much relief because internal injuries are still a thing and he thinks you should all go to the Batcave and do some scans. For all he knows, it's a lot worse than a small cut and you have to get out of here quickly just to make sure. He just needs to make sure.

“Are you okay?” Jason asks quickly, still looking over you.

Your hands shake as they come to his hands on your cheeks. “I’m fine.” Your voice is soft as you answer him, your thumbs running over his hands. He looks absolutely terrified. You aren't sure you've ever really seen this look on his face before. “I’m okay.” You nod against him as you watch a small part of his face dissolve into relief as his eyes meet yours.

You feel okay though very shaky and weak. Your limbs and back are sore, your ribs feel a little achy but nothing feels wrong. A part of you feels a little out of body and terrified anyway, like there's leftover panic still running through your veins. Being crushed by a building wasn't something you thought would happen and it definitely wasn't something you were prepared for. Gong toe-to-toe with bad guys with guns and knives and fists is the easy part. The uncertainty of a bomb and a collapsing building is a bit horrifying. But, physically, you think you're okay.

“We gotta do some scans at the cave, alright? Make sure there’s no internal bleeding or some shit.” Jason keeps his eyes on yours, trying with everything in him to control the panic in his voice.

“I’m fine—“

“No.” Jason cuts you off. This is one risk he's not willing to take. Your life is the one risk Jason will never take no matter what you want to argue. “You don’t know that, okay?”

Suddenly, it's as if you're back on Amusement Mile that night. It was dark and gloomy, nothing too unusual for a night in Gotham City. But, it felt colder and it all felt wrong. The pit in your stomach gnawed and begged you to turn around. You remember knowing with the very sight of the yellow on the Robin cape. You remember how terrified you were walking up to his body, waiting for the confirmation of your biggest fear. You're thinking you might have shared a similar look to the one Jason is giving you now.

“Okay.” You agree with a gentle nod.

Jason sucks in a breath, his brows still pulled together with worry. "Good."

“Yeah, uh, a little help, please?” Tim calls from behind the two of you.

The two of you drop your hands and immediately turn around.

“Fuck, yeah sorry, man.” Jason rushes.

“Sorry!” You call as the two of you rush back to the hole in the pile Jason made to help Tim.

Once Tim is out of the pile, Jason and you look him over quickly, making sure he isn’t missing a limb and nothing is deformed.

“I’m fine.” Tim assures the two of you, not missing the worry between you. “That was crazy though.” Tim looks around with ease, almost like he’s unbothered. You and Jason give him a confused look. Why is he so fine? “We caught a zombie Deathstroke and are fighting a few demons. I was also shot and killed by Scarecrow.” Tim shrugs casually, already growing used to seeing his life in danger which is not nearly as reassuring as he thinks it is.

“Alright.” You roll your eyes, wishing he'd give some insight on how he's able to handle things well.

“Sure, man.” Jason nods his head, unsure if he's completely convinced someone can just walk away from major traumas perfectly fine. “We’re still doing a scan. Let’s get outta here.” Jason jerks his head towards where he threw his helmet.

“You, too.” You state as Jason grabs his helmet and starts walking towards the exit.

“Me, too what?” Jason asks, adjusting his helmet on his hip.

“Scans.” Tim adds in as him and you start to follow Jason. “If you’re forcing us, you have to, too.” Tim states, thinking that's probably a good idea for all of you anyway. Jason's limp doesn't go unnoticed by Tim and Tim can feel his shoulder starting to ache. He knows you took the brunt of the force.

“Aww, you’re learning." You chime.

Jason lets out a groan, swearing he's the one that's fine. He was not crushed by a building but he's not in the mood to fight with either of you. “Fucking fine.” He doesn’t bother protesting knowing damn well you will get what you want. You will win. You always win when it comes to him.

The three of you get on your bikes and head out of the city and to Wayne Manor, something Tim is very excited about. He wasn’t really going to complain about getting any scans done. Getting scans means going into the Batcave again and this time, it won’t be taken over by Crane. Getting scans means getting to actually hang out in the Batcave this time. Tim would never turn down the opportunity now.

You still want to protest but you saw the worry over Jason’s face. You feel fine besides a headache. But, you aren’t going to take the risk for Jason’s sake. You think back to the times you said you’d die for each other and you think that’s easy. You’d run in front of a bullet for him even today. It doesn’t matter but making sure you're okay enough to live feels harder. You don’t want to die or anything but maybe you’d normally brush this off and then that might be it. But, Jason looks at you with all the love his heart could muster and you can’t do it to him. You can live for him, too.

Once you’re at the manor, the three of you use the tunnel to enter the cave immediately. Jason and you go to the changing area, Tim following right behind you. There are always extra sweats there, just in case in a variety of sizes. You grab some for you and Tim while Jason grabs himself a pair. The three of you go off into different changing rooms and get changed before you meet out in the med area of the cave. You go for the scan first just to get it over with.

Tim of course sits beside Jason as they watch the imaging load. It was something Bruce taught him to look for when Jason first got hurt as Robin. They look for internal bleeding, broken bones, swollen organs, anything they can't see from the outside. They can’t just go to the hospital every time they’re hurt. That would raise some questions so they do the scans here. If something is serious, they can go. Which has yet to happen in Jason’s time as Robin. But, he takes what he learned from Bruce and he passes it onto Tim.

Once your scan is over, you join the boys, sitting beside Jason. The scan doesn’t take much longer to load and it seems everything is okay. It's a relief for all of you even if Jason isn't totally sitting with ease over it. It's a relief but there is something still making him worry anyway. But he keeps it to himself while Tim jumps up, ready for his turn. Once Tim is ready, Jason gets the scans going.

With Tim is the machine, that leaves you and Jason to yourselves and Jason can't quite keep his stare on the computer. You've been hurt before and he hasn't felt like this. Once you get confirmation you're fine, it starts to fade away but tonight, it's as if he's run out of places to dissolve his worry and paranoia. He's not sure what he'd do if something happened to you.

“Let me help.” Jason points to the cut on your forehead before he gets up and grabs some of the supplies.

“Oh, uh, yeah, okay.” You nod before you sit on the counter.

Jason takes out the alcohol pads and carefully wipes some of the blood, you hissing in response. Jason mumbles a quick apology but continues working. It’s not bad. Jason doesn’t even think you need stitches and he thinks you're lucky. You though, you're just watching him carefully. So much has changed and yet this feels like nothing has changed. It feels like it did that first night after Jerry. Something about him moving carefully, gently, but a little rough. He doesn’t say anything and he dodges your eyes. And you think your stomach is swirling and bubbling just as it did that night.

“What’ve you been up to?” You ask quietly, eyes looking right at him.

Jason pauses, looking at you before he goes back to cleaning the cut on your forehead. He shifts slightly, the feeling of being exposed starting to fade right over him. “Usual.” Jason answers. “Taking out dickwads, reading, researching, helping Babs.”

You looked in the mirror after you changed, the cut wasn't bad. He should be done by now but he's taking his time. He's still dodging your stare and he's minding his right leg. His mouth is pressed into a straight line. He's seemed okay besides tonight, happy even. You really hope this doesn't set him back because he should be happy. It's what he deserves. And you wonder if it was all just some sort of facade because Jason hates people knowing what he's thinking. Maybe it was just an act for Tim or for you for some reason.

You hope not.

“Are you happy?” You whisper to him, hoping he'll be honest if he's not and hoping he really is happy with the life he's making for himself.

Jason freezes.

Maybe in the grand scheme of life he is. Generally speaking, he thinks he’s happy most days. He isn’t miserable. And his relationship with Bruce is getting better and his relationship with all of the Titans is getting better. Molly is still one of his best friends. He likes what he does. But, he can’t quite bring himself to say he’s happy. It’s the ache in his bones he can’t shake and the white streak of hair that won’t go away. The Y scar that stares back at him when he looks in the mirror after a shower. The way his leg still fucking hurts sometimes and the nightmares. The panic attacks sometimes that seem to hit him like a freight train out of nowhere. The fact that he feels lonely.

He was so fine being alone for so long and then he was comfortable not being alone. Now, he’s just lonely. He lives alone and he spends a lot of time alone and it’s just lonely. His heart feels like it’s contracting in his chest while a lump finds its way at the base of his throat. And he misses you. Maybe he could live with that choice if it weren’t for everything else. But, he thinks he could live with everything else if he didn’t miss you so much.

“I don’t know.” Jason answers, not wanting to give the real answer but not wanting to lie entirely. “Are you?”

You think you're happy most of the time. You live with Molly so you aren’t alone and you're eternally grateful for that. And you have movie nights. You even have movie nights with Gar and Tim over FaceTime. You and Rachel talk a lot now and you’re on good terms. You love what you do and you love helping Babs. Bruce doesn’t want to kick you out of Gotham. Things feel like they’re getting better. The nightmares have gotten a little better even if you wake Molly up sometimes screaming. But the guilt always comes at night, weighing down every bit that could make you happy. The guilt of everything that happens just chews away part of your happiness as if you aren't allowed to be happy. And maybe you could live with it, if you didn’t miss Jason like you need oxygen. You miss him more than you could ever miss anything.

“I don’t know.” You answer the same way as if you understand and Jason feels seen so he shifts his feet, tossing the alcohol pads into the trash under the table. Jason presses his hands on the counter, resting them beside your thighs as he leans in slightly. He doesn't even fully realize he does it. “You deserve to be happy, Jay.” You keep your voice quiet as Jason’s brows pull together as if he’s in pain.

“So do you.” Jason nods once.

“What would make you happy?” You ask and aren’t sure why you did. Maybe you hope he’ll even jokingly say you and then that’ll give you a reason to tell your guilt to shut up and take a backseat. And you think he might say it because his eyes finally lock on yours and the pain in his face starts to fade.

He thinks it’s you.

“I don’t know.” He answers anyway because admitting it seems unfair to both of you. You’ve been here before and yeah, you both know. You both know it shouldn’t have been the way it was then but it’s different. He isn’t pushing to self-destruct. He just wants to be ready if he tells you and he isn’t sure he is. “What about you?” Jason asks, thinking if you say it, he’ll say it anyway.

You think it's him.

“I don’t know.” You echo and you shake your head before you lean forward, pressing your forehead against his. You feel him relax and you almost want to cry. Jason's hands slowly move onto your thighs and he wants to burst at the seams. You making the move tells Jason everything he needs to know. And Jason relaxing with his hands on your thighs tells you everything you need to know. It's still him and you. “Happy you’re here though…happy you were there tonight.” You say honestly.

“Me, too. Happy you came along tonight.” Jason says back as he pulls away but he keeps his hands on your thighs.

"Thanks for coming to save us." You offer him a subtle smile.

"Of course." Jason nods his head softly. "You and me?" Jason offers the same smile.

Your hand comes to his cheek, running a thumb along the skin and his shoulders relax. “You and me.” You echo.

It’s silent for a few seconds as if you’re both wanting to see where this will go. Unsure where you want it to go. Before, you both knew. You knew you wanted each other so you’d jump the second you could. But this isn’t that. You want each other but there is so much caution in it. You’re both terrified of overstepping boundaries and ruining whatever you’re trying to rebuild. You’re terrified of hurting each other again. You're both worried you aren't ready for something again. So as much as you both want each other, a part of both of you almost feels okay with waiting to make sure it’s right this time. For each other even if you both want to explode.

And then Tim clears his throat.

“Uh, so…am I gonna die again?” Tim quips making you and Jason pull apart.

“Yeah.” Jason answers immediately, glancing at the screen and earning a light tap from you which makes him laugh. Jason actually takes a second to look over the scans before finishing his sentence. “Eventually but not tonight. You’re fine.” Jason finishes.

“Shithead.” You mutter with the roll of your eyes but a smile finds itself across your lips.

“Babe.” Jason grins.

“You two are weird.” Tim mutters as he walks up to the two of you.

“Your turn.” You tap Jason on the shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Jason pulls in a breath and makes his way to the scan.

Once Jason is situated, you get the machine going before you look over Tim. The scans are clear and he seems fine. He actually looks really happy which you know is because he's sitting in the Batcave. He's still looking over the Batcomputer, his eyes wandering around the cave every so often. You can't say you blame him really but you're surprised and relieved he's handling things well.

"You can explore if you want, ya know?" You suggest.

"Really?" Tim's eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

"Yeah? You are Robin." You let out a soft laugh and before you can even say another word, Tim is out of his seat.

“What’s going on with you guys anyway?" Tim questions as he makes his way over to the case holding Jason's Robin suit, the blood still staining it. "Looked like I interrupted something.” Tim glances back at you and then the suit before he moves on.

“No.” You shake your head, keeping her eyes on the screen. “Catching up a little bit.”

Tim rolls his eyes and lets out a scoff. “You guys forgot I was crushed by a building." Tim defends, making his way over to the training area.

"I said I was sorry and so did he." You defend even though you know you'll be feeling guilty about that for awhile. "Don't tell Dick though."

"Wasn't going to." Tim chuckles softly. "Seems like there's something going on." Tim states as the cave falls silent. He looks over as you glare back him, very clearly unamused by his observation. "I'm just saying." Tim states as he shrugs his shoulders, going back to looking at the variety of knives Bruce has.

You let out a sigh and decide maybe you will ask Tim for his input. Everyone else knows so much about you and Jason, not just as a couple but as vigilantes. Tim, on the other, doesn't know that side of it. This is the first time Tim is actually even hanging out with Jason for more than a few minutes. He might actually be the perfect person to talk to.

“Alright, listen, can we talk about it later?” You ask. “I do honestly have a headache and to dig into that right now is not what I want to do. But we can talk about it later.”

“Alright.” Tim sighs as he starts making his way back to you.

“Any word about Bernard?” You ask as Tim takes his seat back beside you.

“No change.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.” You say softly. “You guys will figure it out. He’ll be okay.”

“Thanks.” Tim mutters as he leans onto his elbow.

Jason’s scans finish a few minutes later allowing him to rejoin the other two of you. You look over the scans, feeling relief come over you. You figured he was fine, Jason usually is. But, it is nice having actual confirmation he's okay even a part of you will still be glancing him over and watching him carefully just for extra security. Scans can be wrong.

“So?” Jason questions with a knowing look, knowing he is fine.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re fine.” You wave him off with eyes wide to mock him. “Just to be safe.”

“Yeah.” Jason pulls a breath into his lungs and he knows.

He wonders if you’ll always be more worried about him. With not talking now and the whole shit with Crane before, he hasn’t had too much time to even think about it. And you were so worried that whole time because of Crane and because he had just died. But, he wonders about now. Now that some of the dust has settled and you've been away from him. He can tell by how you're still glancing over him as if expecting him to start gushing blood from an invisible wound that you're worried. And he thinks you're more worried than you normally would be. A scan and a look over would usually be enough but not tonight. He wonders if it’s because he died. Maybe you’ll always be trapped in a spiral of worry knowing it might happen again.

Jason thinks that sounds like torture.

He wants to find a way to assure you he’s fine but he’s not really sure what he could possibly do. He’s not fine since dying. It’s hard to walk every day with that kind of weight around his chest but he is physically fine and he wants you to know that. He breathes today and he did yesterday. Before, he thinks he would have made a joke and then kissed you. It’s what he always did and it always calmed your nerves. You would have slept together and if he were injured, you would have known. It was always harder hiding any type of injury from you because either you’d see it, you’d catch him slipping, or he’d flinch when you laid down together. He can’t very well do any of that now. And he can’t possibly say anything because Tim is right here and the last thing Jason wants is to further expose himself to anyone else. So, he just bites back his comments and shrugs it all off.

“We can head back out if you guys are ready.” Jason suggests.

The three of you grab your things before you head from the Batcave and go back to Jason’s place. It’s quiet in your comms. Tim chalks it up to being tired, the adrenaline wearing off for all three of you. Jason just wants to get home and shake the night from his spine. You find yourself wondering if the gravity of vigilante life will ever wear off when something like tonight happens. You love it and you swear you do, it’s just really hard sometimes and you haven’t quite found the right way to cope with it.

You could have died tonight which is a reality most nights and it never seems like too big of a deal to you because it’s you and the person with a gun or a bomb or a knife. It’s just you. Not talking to Jason or seeing him has made it a little easier not to think about him doing the same thing. But tonight, the weight of loss collapsed your shoulders the second that roof fell. Jason pulled you out of the rubble. You heard the way his voice sounded, the tremble and the fear etched into his windpipe. You saw the look on his face when he pulled you out.

Panic. Relief. Panic. Terror. Anger.

And something else you don’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

Something about the idea of him suffering in the way you did makes you want to turn the bike around and go as far as you can without looking back. And you think about how he could have been hurt again. You and Tim were trapped easily. What if he was, too? What if the roof fell on him and he died? You aren’t so sure you’d be able to survive the loss of him again. Even as you are today.

When you get back, Tim says a quick goodbye to you before disappearing into the building. Jason takes his time though, watching your brows pinch together as your stare falls anywhere but on him.

“You alright?” He asks carefully.

You nod and offer him a fake smile. “Yeah, all good.” You chew the inside of your cheek and you just don't want to go home. Going home sounds scary and like maybe it won't feel quite like home this time.

Jason nods back. “What’s wrong?”

He keeps his distance from you. He’s standing three feet away from you and he’s thinking that’s for the best. You aren't normally quiet after missions like this. It's as if talking always reassures you that you're both fine. But, tonight you were quiet and you look uncomfortable in your own skin. Jason doesn't want to overstep. He doesn't want to move closer and that be the real problem. You got a little close in the cave and Jason knows how you are with that. He's betting you still like to run so, he keeps his distance for right now.

“Nothing, why?” You ask and you keep your stance from him.

You want to kiss him and tell him you're glad he’s okay. You said it but you want to kiss him until he knows fully. Jason has never been one to take words at face value. He responds better with action and the only way you know to show your love for him is by touch. But, that's not fair to either of you. You would give anything to go back to how it was even if it's just for one night. You wish you could both forget everything that happened, pretend none of it happened. It would be so much easier that way.

“I always know when something’s wrong.” Jason sucks in a breath and he didn’t think he’d be the one pulling for answers from you.

You shake your head and lying to him never came easy.

You swore you’d never lie to him.

“Scary.” Your voice is so small and Jason almost closes the distance between you to engulf you in the tightest hug he could manage without hurting you.

But he cements his feet to the ground below him.

“You’re okay, though. So, is Tim.” Jason assures, his words careful.

“Yeah…” Your voice is still so small and Jason takes one step closer to you, knowing you and Tim aren't your full concern.

“I’m fine, ya know? Like…all good.” Jason keeps his voice level as his eyes scan over your face, looking for any change.

“No, I know.” You nod softly, your voice bigger this time.

You're worried he isn’t. The scans say he is and he says he is. You know he wouldn’t lie to you with you being worried. You know but you're worried anyway. He gets a second chance and he deserves it. He deserves it so much and you just want him to be happy and healthy. You want him to be able to live as the Jason Todd you fell in love with. You don’t want him to have any more trauma to try and bear. You aren’t so sure he could bear it anymore.

You think what would have happened if you didn’t get lucky tonight.

No part of you has to guess how it would go.

He’d blame himself. He’d torture himself inside and out just like you did.

“Just…” You shake your head. “Can you promise me something even if it’s not very fair?” Your eyes finally land on his.

“What?” Jason asks.

“If-if, uh, something happens to me…like anything, c-can you, uh,…not blame yourself, please?” You ask. “I-I know how you are and I saw the way you looked at me tonight. I know what it’s like and…” Your voice trails off.

“What?” Jason pushes, trying to wrap his head around the question. Of all the things you could be worried about, you're worried about how he'd react to you dying.

“I don’t want you to suffer for it.” You state. “You’ll torture yourself, I know you will. So, if something happens to me, can you promise me you won’t do that? Because I would never blame you.”

“What if it is my fault?” Jason scoffs. “Tonight--”

“It won’t be.” You cut him off entirely with so much certainty, it freezes Jason. “I know, despite it all, you would do everything to make sure I was okay. You, uh, you have always just, uh, j-just tried to keep me safe. So, if something happens, I know it won’t be your fault.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen anyway.” Jason answers back, digging his feet in because even a hypothetical question sends his head into a panic.

“But something did happen, Jay!” You yell back in desperation. “Something did!" Your eyes water before your voice comes back down. "I don’t want you to be like me.”

You nearly beg him and Jason is so thrown by what you say, he has to pause and try to understand. He swears you're the best person he has ever met. He loves you. He knows that it got messy but he also knows between those lines, him dying changed a part of you. It led you into a guilt you can’t shake and that he feels is on him. The least he can do is make the promise and try to keep it but he swears nothing can happen to you. He can’t let anything happen.

“Then you have to stop fucking blaming yourself, too.” Jason states back. “I died. That’s not on you." Jason says it so bluntly you nearly choke on your own heartbeat. "I promise but…you gotta promise me then you’re gonna stop blaming yourself, too. There was nothing you could have done.” The words are sour and bitter on his tongue. Knowing it was his fault he got himself killed is one of the hardest pills for him to swallow.

You nod your head softly and you can’t make the promise but you can promise to try. “I promise to try.”

“Good.” Jason states and he watches you tug your sleeve down over your wrist. Maybe he is very worried about you, too. Tonight was heavy and a lot to handle even if it all worked out. It almost didn't. Maybe it’s stupid but he doesn’t want to be alone tonight and he’s betting you don’t either. “Did, uh, did you wanna stay tonight?” Jason asks.

“W-what?” You stutter, the question catching you off guard.

“Did you wanna stay here?" Jason asks again, this time trying to make his voice sound far more casual than he's feeling. "Look, it’s not like we haven’t done this shit before.” Maybe he’s worried the scans are wrong, too and he just wants to look out for you. He misses you. “Just friends.” Jason assures you.

You were really hoping he'd ask.

“Can you, uh..."

“Of course.” Jason finishes before you get the chance to finish because he already knows. “I get to pick though, you picked the last three books.” Jason says with a tender smile and he gets one in return.

“Okay, Jay.” You nod as you take a step forward. “Thank you.”

“You and me.” Jason offers her his signature smirk with the casual shrug of his shoulders.

You stick your hand out and Jason takes it with ease. “You and me.” You echo while Jason pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders before the two of you walk into the building.

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #penance

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verlaineszz · 5 months ago

Text

I'D BLEED FOR YOU IF YOU HELD ME CLOSE.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ CANNIBAL! Dazai x EERIE PHANTOM LIKE ! FEM! Reader

✮⋆˙༒︎ — SUMMARY: wasted along the parts of yokohama at nightfall, an eerie spirit roams around the forests and graveyards, a spirit that wasn't just a spirit but a phantom. A phantom that had regeneration abilities and haunting quirks.

Dazai osamu, a man who was drunk and starved wandered off near a graveyard and he sees a figure. A figure that he has never seen before.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ ANGST + HORROR + FLUFF + SUGGESTIVE

A/N: its me again! :D this story is based off the metaphor for love, cannibalism. I hope you guys enjoy it, I'm trying to grow my account so if you enjoy horror like themes like vampires, you can check out my blog!! This is my 2nd fanfiction post so i hope you all enioy it! (≧▽≦) also, for more context—

Reader has a mysterious doll like personality since she is a phantom. Readers outfit is like a porcelain doll. (her personality is like columbinas!)

NOT PROOFREAD BTW!

༒︎ — Warnings: Blood, Death, g0re, cursing

The moon has risen up and the sun has gone down, and dazai had gotten drunk to ease his problems, he walks around near a graveyard but he hears an audible whisper that he couldn't make out where it was coming from, he genuinely thought he was high. He ignored it and kept walking, his stomach grumbled since he hasn't fed on anyone for days. He ignored the feeling since it really didn't matter to him, he tried to eat ordinary food like hamburgers and what not but nothing made him have the feeling of over indulgence other than human meat.

He walks around the graveyard and he felt like utter shit, his head was spinning but he couldn't remember anything. All he knew that he was drawn to the graveyard, but all he heard was whispers of a female voice and the voice was calling out his name— "dazai"

He continues walking and ignoring it before being met with a female figure that had a dress like a porcelain dolls. You stared at him with a neutral but eerie expression, he stops and looks at you, just staring with no intent to do anything but stare. You walk closer and you stare at him, analyzing his every move and how his thoughts lingered through the taste of blood. He stares at you curious, analyzing you as well and your mannerism but he was drunk so he couldn't get a great look.. But he didn't forget your face. You look at him and he looks at your arm, you had a living and working body but it had special abilities. Regeneration. He stares at your arm and he gulps, he has starved himself for days and he might aswell just collapsed right there and then and by the look of his pale face, you already cracked the code— he was a cannibal.

You looked at his hair and his clothes, he seemed like one attractive young man and you have been wandering around the forests and graveyard for years alone since you were connected to it. And you had just the abilities to serve him and make him your own.

"Are you hungry?" you ask with an eerie small smile as the lit moon shined upon the both of you, crows everywhere and fog everywhere, leaving only the presence of you two. He looks at you abit taken back from the question but he showed neutral expression, standing there with his hands in his coats pockets, he then replies back a small response, "yeah." he replies back.

He looks down on you while the wind flow through him at his direction, your hair flowing behind you as his flows through in front, you grin and you initiated a conversation with him to get to know more about him.

"your name? Perhaps." you ask, tilting your head to the side just a bit as a way of showing curiosity.

"Dazai osamu." he replies with a small smile, he stares at you and analyzing your behavior and your appearance as if you were a fish caught on a hook, he wasn't gonna lie but he absolutely found your appearance attractive.

You continue analyzing him, his face was abit flushed, his eyes glossy and he reeked the scent of alcohol, he was drunk and you wanted to take advantage of it by getting information from him.

"Are you cursed with the tragedy of understanding people but nobody understanding you?" you ask so suddenly, he chuckles and he looks down on you, finding the question new. "and how do you know this?" he chuckles.

You tried to make him open up more and you knew that he was somewhat broken, from his bandages and to his drunken state. "are you?" you added into the conversation, "maybe." he says in a curious tone, getting curious in where the conversation is going.

"Do you need anything from me pretty lady?"

He asks, you grin and you reply, "ah.. Yes. Just a few questions and a prize in the end, that is all." you say with an eerie smile, which dazai didn't mind. He found it new but he wanted to know what the prize was. Though he was wary of you and your aura, he decided to take a gamble because in his point of view, death is just an extension or a part of life. And what a better way to die is to perish by the hands of a beautiful woman?

"ask away then."

"are you happy? Are you sad? What is that one thing that fills your core? " you ask with a grin, he looks down on you with a neutral expression, his heart beating and he thinks about question.. But really he didn't feel anything most of the time, he wasn't completely emotionless but he wasn't particularly happy nor sad, and the core..that gaping hole that eats through him like leeches sucking him dry. What did he want? He doesn't know, he thinks and he shrugs, he was drunk so he was half honest and half his facade, his way of coping is through humor so he said what he thought would hide his internal feelings. "you.. Really ask weird questions you know?" he chuckles. "i just live like any other human being of course. But by core I'm not sure." bullshit, he thought. Human? Not him. He didn't understand what humanity felt like, he always felt like something was missing..

You nod and continue to ask more questions and so did he, but the difference was the way you answered his questions were different. It wasn't completely true and it was just halfway of the real thing, which kept you mysterious and that made him attracted to you like a magnet.

"Your soul must be unfortunate." you say. Slowly circling him as he stands there, slightly stumbling with a wary but interested vibe. "maybe it is, but maybe yours is unfortunate as well, you're talking to some random guy you know?" he says in a slightly tipsy way.

"Are you still starved?"

He chuckles, "i just drank. Maybe."

"do you wanna eat?" you ask, he was curious about what you meant by thar so he smirks and nods. "yeah, i do." you stand infront of him and you raise your arm, he raises an eyebrow as he squints in curiosity and out of the lingering effects of the alcohol. You grab your arm and rip it off, your skin ripping off a part of your shoulder leaving you without your other arm, his eyes widens and he looks in shocked but interested, the blood dripping made him more hungry. You hand him your arm as your arm slowly regenerates back.

"what the- huh?.."

"eat it." you say with a straight forward tone, dazai looked at the arm and he sees the dripping blood and meat, thats where he lost self control and took it from your hands and ate. He ate hungrily like a starved animal, he felt guilty but he was starved. And how an angel you were offering him food? But as he ate, he thinks, how did you know he was a cannibal? He thought it must be a trap but he couldn't stop chewing. He ate the meat off and so far, nothing happened. By the time he looked up at you with blood on his mouth and hands, your arm has already regenerated. He was on his knees as he looked up at you, the moon shined upon the both of you and he lick his lips, slowly backing away. "why.. Why would you do this?.." he asks, wary of you.

"you were starving, correct? Can't i feed you?" you ask, making a good point but to him everything was too good to be true. He didn't know your true intentions but you knew that all you wanted was for him to be yours.

♱ ˚₊‧⁺⋆✮₊⊹₊⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆₊ ⊹✮˚₊‧⁺⋆♱

The next day, he woke up in a cold sweat. He doesn't remember anything about going home or even going to bed, but all he sees is that his coat is neatly folded on the corner of his bed and he feels something aching in his head, hes got a hangover, but as he recollects his memories he remembers your face and the meal he had gotten from you, he thought about your appearance and it sinks in him, the soft smiles you gave him and how interesting your character was weird to him, the way you asked him questions was like you knew his whole character. He wanted to see you again. He was completely drawn to you, after all he is just a man that is not just hungry for human flesh but also knowledge.

He then remembers about his work and he gets ready, during the whole day of work he couldn't stop thinking about you and how interesting you were. It reminded him of anomalies.. And how your mannerism was different, but he was drunk so he couldn't picture everything well.

After work he decides to visit the foggy graveyard near the gloomy moonlit forest, he prayed that he sees you again but nothing. He looked for you but nothing. You were like just a figment of his imagination, a phantom of sorrows.

This went on and on and on until one night, he visits the place where you and him met, he sees you leaning against a tree, humming something.. Like some sort of old song, he looks at you and he wanted to talk to you again, he hasn't eaten since the last time you offered your arm to him so he walks up to you and initiates a conversation.

Quickly the both of you found comfort in eachothers melancholy, talking about various aspects of life and topics. Slowly but surely you and him got fond of eachother, you fed him and he kept you company. But as more as he ate, the more he craved for something more of you. You offered him your legs, arms, and fingers out of love and he still couldn't get enough.

⋆｡‧₊°♱ ༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻ ♱ ༉‧₊˚.

You and him spent the night together in the forest in a field of flowers, crows surrounded the both of you, they flew above in a circular motion as the moon shined upon the both of you. Fog surround the area and his head was resting on your lap, you pet him and he looks at you in admiration. He felt guilty for doing this, he felt like he didn't deserve this but then again he was like a dandelion. Dandelions were never given love since they were just weeds.. Therefore they fall apart at the slightest touch.

He knew he never asked why you were doing this but he wanted to keep this lingering feeling of affection for now. You stared from afar but he stared at you. He smiles softly and raises his hand to caress your neck, outlining the veins of your neck to your collarbones. Oh, what a beautiful sight.

He was completely obsessed. This obsession wasn't something he has ever felt. He tried to deny it but he couldn't. He doesn't even know your origins. He doesn't know why you only come out at night. And he doesn't know why you care.

You look down on him and with a small smile and he looked back at you with a neutral but interested look, he slowly sits up and he wraps an arm around your waist, most days you and him spent it quietly. Both of you gave each other what you guys yearned for, an obsessive cannibalistic romance. He wanted to taste your everything and you wanted to touch his inner soul.

All you had was just a physical body that yearns for exterior touch and he has a body that yearns for interior touch.

He rest his head on your chest and you pat his head, he felt strange comfort. Even though the night was silent, he wanted you more than anything and so did you..it was to the point that he swore he'd be yours and you'd be his.

He looked over your body and he sees the plump color of your skin, he didn't just want a taste of your arm or leg. He wanted your insides. You look down at him and notice his behavior, has he not eaten?

"have you eaten yet?" you ask, caressing his cheek with an eerie aura that felt comforting but disturbing at the same time..that was ome of the things that made him attracted to you.

"... No."

You then lunged your hand into your stomach and you pull out your intestine. Blood spilled all over your dress, he was worried but since you were the one doing it, you'll be fine.. Right?

As you pull your pale scarlet intestines out, you were already regenerating. You hand him the intestines and he hesitantly feeds. This is how it has always been. It was mutual connections, he brought You his bullets, You brought him your LOVE.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

His mouth was bloody and his hands were tainted with the scarlet liquid, the feeling of you Going down his throat felt like heaven, being with you felt like ecstasy, he felt comforted more than disturbed. He just wanted to cry into your chest but the way you look at him felt like judgement day.

You caress his cheek and you pull him into a kiss which he quickly returned, his kiss was a mix of obsession, love, and hunger. He kissed you guiltily. He lets out small soft quiet moans and his scarlet stained hands caressed your cheek to your neck, leaving a handprint of your blood.

Words didn't matter to the both of you since the both of you could read eachothers mind like it was a library. Each touch, gaze, drop of blood meant everything.

He pulls away and leans and looks at you, the wind catching up and the flowers danced along as crows cawked and you and him exchange glances of obsessive affection.

The more you and him touched eachother felt like a cigarette slowly turning your lungs into ash, he kisses you and he holds your waist, roaming his hands all over you, small moans and gasps for air was everywhere as he kisses you which you gladly accepted.

He bites your lip and slowly he felt more hungry, he kisses your neck to your chest, looking at you with admiration. He pulls away and holds you tightly before asking about something.

"how come you've never given me your heart to try?"

You didn't wanna tell him the truth, because the truth is, the only way you were regenerating was because of your heart. If your heart was gone. You will immediately die.

"hm..i just.. Haven't thought of offering it yet."

He nods but he felt more hungry, he looks down at the still regenerating wound at your stomach and he just wanted to have a little taste of something.

He stopped himself but as every touch and compliments are given, he was slowly getting desperate. He wanted more of you. The undecaying love that the both of you had was real. He felt real. He felt cared. But he wanted more. Something to fill the gaping hole im his heart, before stopping himself he already lunges a hand inside the wound and he grabs your heart out. Your eyes widens and rolls back, your spirt leaving your vessel (physical body.)

He looks down and he realizes what he has done, he shakes and his eyes were wide. He felt nothing again. Numb. He did the last thing he wanted to do to you and that was to hurt you. He knew there was something wrong with him. He would never forgive himself.

He stares down at your body and a tear fell down his cheek as he holds your still beating heart, his eyes were blank but a tear ran down his cheek

Your spirit looks at him but he does not see.. you didn’t know what to feel about the situation.. But you knew that your soul was finally free, your spirit slowly dissapears as you grin.

He looks at your heart and his hands were shaking, slowly bringing it closer to his face with a guilty feeling.

But you know how the saying goes..Starving people will eat everything and anything since their desperation is greater than their self control.

Thanks for making it to the end! :D i wanted to make a fyolai version of this but unfortunately I'm very sluggisg today..

(－‸ ლ)

Hope you enjoyed it though <3!

||TAGS:

#bsd x reader #dazai bsd #dazai x reader #dazai x fem reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #cannibalposting #gothic romance #horror #angst #dazai angst #bungou stray dogs dazai #halloween

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thesandsofelsweyr · 2 years ago

Text

THE SUS BOY NEXT DOOR

《 PART 1/3 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

《WORDS》 2,809 《CHAPTERS》 1 2 3

《PAIRING》 Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

《TROPES》 Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

《WARNINGS》 Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

《NOTES》

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

This is my first attempt at a reader-insert fic 🙃

Yes this is a repost. My blog is still new so Tumblr didn't allow my original post to appear in the tags. (Shout out to the 10 of you who still managed to find & like the original 🥰)

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You climb the last flight of steps up to the fourth floor of your apartment building, stomping each stair into submission as you go. You’re still fuming from the blind date you just escaped. That is the absolute last time you ever let Erin set you up with one of her stock broker bro coworkers. You don’t care how hot or rich they are; you are done. Done, done, stick a fork in you. You love your bestie but by God does the woman have terrible taste in men or what.

Both of the pricks she handpicked for you were narcissistic know-it-alls with egos the size of Texas; a pair of swine in designer suits (who, to Erin’s credit, were smoking hot but that’s beside the point.) Once the pig from tonight decided that you weren’t trophy wife material he became far more interested in his phone than he was in you. And the last pig coddled you like you were a delicate, empty-headed damsel in distress who was lucky to be granted the honor of his company and conversation. You should’ve learned your lesson after that first failed date with Dalton Rockefeller-Vanderbilt (or whatever old money asshole last name he had) but you’ve been feeling lonely lately, especially after Ash introduced you to the fab guy she’s dating (an accountant with a perfectly plebeian name of Abe).

You glare down the hallway as you ascend enough to peek over the top of the stairs. Oh great, you think sourly, pursing your lips, your face hardening into a study in once I step inside that door I’m downing a shot of whiskey before turning up an overflowing glass of wine. You stare molten daggers at the tall, brawny guy in your sights. It’s the hot asshole who lives beside you; the last person you want to see tonight. He’s standing, hunched as ever, in front of his door, key poised for the deadbolt, wearing that same teal baseball cap and red hoodie that he never seems to take off. Your jaw tightens. You’ve tried to be nice to the brute—flashing him a smile, saying hello—but all you’ve ever gotten in return was a scowl, if he deigned to acknowledge you at all. Well, you’re fresh out of smiles tonight, jerk.

A flutter of unease tickles your tummy as you step onto the landing, into the narrow hallway with him, your back turned to the only exit, a six foot tall sus man between you and your apartment. You stand up straighter, squaring your shoulders, trying to make yourself look and feel taller. It’s late, and your building is eerily quiet while the city is abuzz with incessant sirens. The usual ensemble of notorious nutjobs are fighting yet another battle in their never-ending war with their rival nutjob who dresses up like a Bat.

Nutjobs like this guy…

You reach into your handbag and grab your keys in your fist, sliding the sharp ends between your fingers, ready to stab at some eyeballs. (You regrettably didn’t have room for your taser or mace in this bag so you have to improvise.) It’s your own fault that you suspect the guy’s a sociopath lying in wait to jump you. You made up a serial killer backstory for him—the result of one too many true crime podcast binges—despite not even knowing the guy’s name. You can’t help it. He gives off serious Ted Bundy vibes. Well, maybe that’s unfair to Ted. Ted would’ve at least smiled at you before bludgeoning you with a crowbar. This guy though…

This guy doesn’t have a scowl for you tonight. Actually, he seems startled by your sudden appearance in the hallway, dropping his keyring to the floor with a clatter that shatters the uneasy silence, causing you to jump. He ducks his red-hooded head between his hunched shoulders as you pass by, warily eying him, ready to stab those icy blue eyeballs of his if he tries anything.

You arrive at your door and take out your keyring, sighing with likely unnecessary relief as you slide the key into the lock. The guy’s probably a harmless weirdo incel who never learned how to talk to a woman. You steal one last peek over your shoulder at him, and watch as he stabs at his deadbolt with his key, hitting everywhere but the keyhole because, you realize with surprise, his hand is shaking too much to hit the target. This dude’s a disaster, you say to yourself as you turn the key in your own deadbolt. Then, as he misses the keyhole yet again, you hear yourself ask, “Do you need help?” in an annoyed tone. You didn’t mean to sound so bitchy but whatever. He shouldn’t be such a bitch to you.

He seems to jump at the sound of your voice, and his keyring clatters to the scuffed wood floor again. You stare back at him incredulously. Is he wasted or something? You wonder as that unsettling feeling creeps back in, prickling the hairs on the back of your neck. Your grip tightens around your doorknob as your pulse picks up speed.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles in response without sparing a glance in your direction.

“You don’t look fine,” you grumble back at him, the flames of irritation rekindled by his rudeness. Why should you care if the jerk’s too drunk or stoned to get in his apartment. Let his rude ass sleep on his doorstep. You shove open your door and take a stomped step across the threshold—you really need that glass of wine. Out of the corner of your eye you see him bend down to pick up his keys, then hear him groan like he’s in pain. You poke your head back around the doorframe, curious, and notice he’s doubled over now, clutching at his heaving chest, breathing hard and fast like he just ran a 5k or—your heart leaps inside your own chest—like he’s having a fucking heart attack. You watch, mouth agape, brows furrowed, as he sinks to his knees, a handful of red fabric still clenched in his trembling fist, then falls forward onto his free hand while he struggles to get control of his labored breathing. Crumpled on the floor like this, fighting for a breath, makes him seem so small, vulnerable, and not the least bit threatening; more like a boy who needs your help and less like an NFL quarterback who murders women on the side for fun.

Just go into your apartment, pour that extra large glass of merlot you’ve been fantasizing about since John Preston Anderson III introduced himself with his full name. Curl up on the sofa with In Cold Blood or a horde of shirtless, oiled, bronzed, and heartily-muscled Dothraki in your Game of Thrones rewatch. Who cares if the hot asshole serial killer next door has a heart attack? But you care apparently because you rush over to him instead, ignoring The Stranger Beside Me audiobook narrator inside your head warning you that this is a textbook Ted Bundy ploy, you idiot. You bend to help him, to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, and when your fingertips brush against him his entire body jerks away from you, like you zapped him with your taser. He throws up an arm to warn you off. “Don’t,” he snaps breathlessly before gulping down a lungful of air, then rasps: “Please don’t touch me.”

You bristle at his harsh rebuff but keep your temper in check since the guy’s clearly in crisis mode. “Should I call an ambulance? You look like you’re having a heart attack.”

“It’s… it’s not a heart attack… it just… feels like one.” He bites off each word, every breath precious. The fingers of his free hand dig into the hardwood floor.

“At least let me unlock your door for you,” you suggest shortly, biting your tongue before you can add: since you weren’t able to manage that yourself, then feeling guilty for even thinking that. What had the poor guy done to you tonight except happen to be standing in your shared hallway after some other asshole pissed you off?

He gives you a small, grudging nod so you retrieve his fallen keyring, wondering why a man needs so many damn keys. “The bronze one,” he grunts, as if he read your mind.

You unlock his door with the bronze key then push the door open while he drags himself to his feet behind you, huffing and groaning. The dimly lit apartment that greets you is sterile, spartan; that doesn’t help the serial killer vibes at all. One of the furnished units, you presume, since the furniture looks like it was plucked from the lobby of your building. The walls are white and bare; no art or posters or photos of him scowling beside a lover. And the place is spotless—you’d assume it was vacant if you didn’t know otherwise. A vision suddenly fills your mind, a vision of him on his knees, bright yellow dishwashing gloves pulled halfway up his muscular arms, an uncapped bottle of industrial bleach at his side as he scrubs at a puddle of blood while the lifeless corpse of the last girl who wandered in here lies wrapped up in blood-stained plastic behind him. Oh God, you even smell the bleach. But then you notice the stacks of paperback books here and there, the open sketch pad on the sofa with pencil-scribbled notes and drawings, some charging AirPods beside an iPad, another red hoodie—one that zips up the front—hanging from the back of a dining room chair, a gym bag, and atop the kitchen island, a rather happy-looking houseplant which, you have to admit, is kinda cute.

Before you can take in the rest of his place he staggers past you, bumping into your shoulder with a bruising force that knocks you sideways and nearly off your feet. Then with one last little wheeze, he topples over like an uprooted oak tree in a windstorm, smacking face first into the hardwood with a meaty thud that rattles the floor beneath you.

“Oh my God!” You squeal, covering your mouth with both hands.

A shot of adrenaline pumps through your veins, spurring you into action. You snatch your phone from your bag with rubber fingers, nearly flinging it aside in your panic, and frantically dial 9-1-1, forgetting all about the emergency shortcuts created for just such an occasion. Your stomach dips at the sight of the bulky body lying prone at your feet, still and silent as the grave. As the phone rings—the long-familiar trilling sound now seemingly drawn out as if it will stretch into eternity—you kneel beside him to check his pulse and see if he’s still breathing, praying he isn’t a corpse, when you spot something that knocks the breath from your lungs and stops your heart dead in its tracks. With a cold, trembling hand you push up the tail of his hoodie…

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” The operator asks by rote, voice booming through your phone’s speaker, but you barely hear it over the alarm bells clanging inside your head. You’re gaping at the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants, unable to form any sort of response around your heart lodged in your throat.

“Hello?” the operator asks irritably.

“Hi, uh,” you start with a squeak, eyes still fixed on the textured grip of that deadly weapon, but then smack your lips shut. What are the cops gonna think when they see that gun? And what if he’s wanted for a crime or something and you get him arrested? He said it wasn’t a heart attack, acted like this had happened to him before. You can always call back if he’s actually dead or dying…

Why the hell does it matter if he gets arrested?? Your brain shouts back at you. Why are you even here in the first place when there’s an unopened bottle of merlot waiting for you in the safety of your apartment only a few footsteps away, where there’s not an unresponsive armed man who’s built like a tank, who doesn’t even need the gun when he could snap your tiny neck with those massive hands of his? Could the universe give you any clearer signals that “you in danger, girl”? Have you learned absolutely nothing from hours upon hours of Karen and Georgia? “Stay sexy and don’t get murdered”—this guy isn’t even nice to you! Don’t you dare hang up that phone…

“Um, I’m so sorry. I thought my neighbor was having a heart attack but-but he’s fine actually. False alarm. Sorry to bother you!” Your words tumble out in a rush then you smash the “End Call” button before you can get questioned further or chewed out for wasting their time. In the back of your mind you hear the recording of this 9-1-1 call replaying on the My Favorite Murder episode starring you, before the hostess pair warns their listeners not to make the same foolish mistake you just made.

You sit back on your heels, clammy hands kneading your knees while that chunk of baleful metal glares back at you from his waistband, like a coiled rattlesnake peeking out from beneath a rock. Your mind is racing as fast as your heart through scenarios that all end with you getting shot. Then your hands are moving with minds of their own, fingers curling around the textured grip, getting your dainty fingerprints all over the murder weapon as you slip it free. It’s heavier than you expected, you note as you grip it tighter, careful not to get your finger anywhere near that trigger. Heavy, but not heavy enough for something that can end a life in an instant. The thought makes you shudder. You place the gun on the floor then give it a shove, eager to be rid of it, praying that the damn thing won’t go off automatically as it slides across the hardwood floor out of reach. You’ve never touched a gun before this moment and have zero interest in shooting yourself in the face.

Now your attention shifts back to the poor guy who's still out cold. You lay your hand on his back and feel its steady rise and fall. Still breathing, thank God. Then with a grunt of effort and a mighty heave you manage to flip him over on his back. Immediately your hand shoots back to cover your mouth and you suck in a horrified breath as his pale face, previously hidden beneath the shadow of his hat and hood, becomes visible in the lamplight.

You were expecting the weals on his chin and forehead, the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his bottom lip swelling from where it busted when he fell flat on his face. What you weren’t expecting to find was dried blood smeared across his cheek up to his ear, or the J-shaped scar beneath his eye that you’d noticed before (it’s unfortunately hard to miss, despite his best efforts to hide it) weeping beads of fresh blood from where someone traced over it with a knife you assume, carving deep into his skin. But it wasn’t the sight of the blood or the crimson J that pulled the gasp from your throat and made your stomach nosedive like you were on a rollercoaster. Nope, that was your reaction to the angry red furrows encircling his throat around his Adam's apple, deep indentations where someone wrapped rope or wire or cable around his neck so tight that it embedded in his skin; ligature marks from where someone fucking strangled him.

You grab your phone then pause, biting at your lip. Maybe you should call 9-1-1 again. What if his windpipe is crushed? What if that’s why he was breathing so hard, why he fainted? Those marks are so deep… he could be seriously injured. But if he was seriously injured, why had he returned to his apartment instead of going to the ER? It seems like he made the choice for you.

You open your phone’s browser and type: how to treat strangulation injuries, then quickly skim over the top result. Ice. That seems simple enough, you tell yourself, noting that you can clean his J cuts with soap and water, at least until he wakes up. And if he doesn’t wake up soon? Well, then you’ll call the cops. After all, he’s probably a law abiding citizen who’s licensed to carry that gun; a guy that you just pinned as another one of the nutjobs because you always get paranoid about every stranger you see after your true crime binges. In your defense, this is Gotham-fucking-City and you’re a young single lady who lives alone. You’d be a fool not to be paranoid.

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averys-nightmare-zone · 4 months ago

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since landing is closing down soon, i decided to take a quick break from SUPERSTRUCTURE (although i will be back don't you worry two fans) and made some fashion moodboards for the 14 fears from the magnus archives to accompany this post there will be some notes and insight on each collage under the cut.

the buried: the buried was really underutilized in the podcast imo. some of my favorite episodes revolved around the buried like lost john's cave and we all ignore the pit. i really hope this did it justice since jonny sims did not.

the corruption: oh my god this one was so hard to make. my google search history is full of terms like "bug infested dress", "moldy clothing" and "yucky fashion" the corruption girlies really seemed to like my last post so i felt obligated to get it right. i think i did okay.

the dark: making a black on black collage look decent is really hard 😭 I was originally going to go victorian for this one but ended up doing nu goth instead since I thought victorian fit a lot better with the end.

the desolation: this is one of my favorites. there's somthing so satisfying about combining ashy greys and black with orange it just tickles my brain. other than that, i don't really have any notes

the end: as mentioned earlier, i went with victorian mourning wear for the end. i mean queen victoria herself was in mourning and only wore black for forty years. that era is so synonymous with death it only felt fair to work its customs and fashion into my end board.

the eye: eye avatars are legally required to wear academic fashion. it just comes with the job description. i don't make the rules. have fun being jonathan sims

the flesh: this one really took me down a rabbit hole. first:, i could only find those anti-vegan shirts that your unemployed uncle wears to the family barbecue and then i came across this fashion designer and spent like an hour on her shop trying to figure out how she got her clothes to look like that. after that it took me another two hours to find all of the accessories. pinterest has been both my best friend and worst enemy over the course of this project.

the hunt: i am so sorry the supernatural gas leakage returned to my home when i made this and I age regressed into being 15 again. when i was making this i pictured it more as the trevor and julia flavor of the hunt instead of say, daisy. god breast america.

the lonely: this one was pretty easy to make once i got a handle on the color scheme. the aesthetic of the lonely has always striken me as a romanticization of the melancholy. think wanderer above the sea of fog. So i gave this one all the things i would romantasize about my life at my loneliest, which is why there's a teacup and a heart locket. the book was also a part of that, but it also doubles as a recreation of a leitner by theponderingalpaca on reddit.

the slaughter: yeah yeah i know the slaughter is supposed to be about war as well as murder, but forgive me for not making a fashion collage about military uniforms. that's really boring. i had just watched woodstock '99 before i made this though and decided to go more for that angry punk/metalhead fashion that korn was wearing in that concert. them and limp biskit are the closest we'll ever get to irl grifters bone.

the spiral: i made this moodboard twice. i know its crazy that the fear meant to represent insanity is hard to pin down, but i think i did it better the second time around. the first one read too much as regular kidcore/decora for my taste.

the stranger: i had to do this one last. i could not for the life of me figure out how to make a circus/uncanny fashion board without just doing clown fashion. i'm still not entirely sure how i feel about how it turned out, but at least the masks are cool.

the vast: vast avatars rise up!! this is a mike crew fan blog and i only wanted to base the fashion around him. he's in the top three list of guys i'm autistic about with elliott stardew valley and daniel powell from archive 81.

the web: not much to say here except if you are a web avatar you have to wear a cunty dress. it is simply non negotiable

thank you to @artmadval for giving me the idea to do this with your amazing fashion archives art, along with everyone else who went through all my yapping to get here. love yall!

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tenpintsofsundrop · 1 year ago

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Lessons For A Genius - Lesson Two Preview

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

Read Lesson One Here

THE FULL FIC IS NOW POSTED!!

This is a fanfic preview. If you want to see more, please like, reblog, comment, and follow my library blog @sundropslibrary so you can see the full version of this fic when it comes out!

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Word Count: 1600

Warnings: this is a preview, so the full fic will have more explicit themes and further warnings (which will be posted on that version of the fic when it's posted); there is no explicit sexual activities in this section, but there is sex-adjacent acts; public/semi-public 'sex'; risk of getting caught; dom/sub dynamics, aspects of an ongoing dom/sub relationship; the reader is dominant and Spencer is submissive; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; mentions of the reader wearing a dress; some strength kink (the reader exerts her physical strength over Spencer and he likes it); mentions of a safeword being in place but it's not used; the reader calls Spencer 'pretty boy' and 'baby'; hair pulling (Spencer receiving); heated making out; humping through clothes (mostly from Spencer toward the reader); Spencer has to ask permission to touch the reader; groping over clothes (reader receiving); Spencer calls the reader 'Miss'; mentions of Spencer cumming in his pants; I believe that's it for this section.

A/N: The fic isn't finished yet, because I am trying to focus on the Halloween fic. But I am really excited about it so far, and I wanted to post a little preview of it to give you guys an idea of what the fic is gonna be like (the entire outline is finished, and I only have a few sections left to write before editing). Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think of it.

...

“Come here.” You told him, giving a gentle tug on his elbow that you were holding.

Naturally, entranced by your every movement and having nothing but the ability to follow you - Spencer walked on easy feet, guided by you as you marched across the room with purpose. He thought perhaps you had seen a painting that particularly caught your interest across the room, or that you were finally ready to leave and it was time to go home and get his reward.

But what happened next, he certainly did not expect.

You pulled him toward a dark curtain that was labeled with a sign - Employees Only.

Last time he checked, you hadn’t gotten a job at a museum.

He found himself slightly filled with anxiety at this fact, but you seemed entirely unfazed.

You simply pulled back the curtain and used Spencer’s anxious confusion to your advantage. You shoved him in first before he could question you, and then you climbed in yourself and carefully adjusted the fabric so it would seem completely undisturbed.

The area behind the curtain seemed to be nothing more than a long hallway with a few doors. It was clearly a lesser traveled area of the museum - a few of the lightbulbs overhead blown out and not replaced, the floor dingy and dusty. Perhaps those doors led to storage rooms or the place’s security facilities - but either way, the two of you weren’t supposed to be here.

His insides filled with panic at the idea of getting caught.

“Y/N-!” He called out your name harshly, but you cut him off by putting a hand in the middle of his chest and shoving him back against the wall.

Hitting the wall easily knocked the wind out of him. It was a surprising amount of force - you were much stronger than you looked. Of course, he had seen you take down suspects before. He had witnessed you tackle grown men to the grown with ease and marveled in awe at your strength, but you had never used that kind of force on him. He had never imagined what it would be like.

He found that it turned him on more than he could have imagined. The presence of your hand fisting the front of his sweater vest spreading a dizzying heat through his body. He stared at you with parted lips and a slacked jaw as the lust and shock overtook him.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” You asked.

You stood away from him for a moment, removing your hands from him completely and leaving a few inches of space between your two bodies in the dim, dingy space.

You were giving him a clear opportunity to use his safeword if he truly wasn’t comfortable with fooling around in such a public space.

“We - we’re gonna get caught!” He whispered urgently to you, his voice hushed but still strained at the very thought of it.

You found it entirely adorable - how scandalized he was by this. You had done far worse and you hoped that you could get him to sink to your level over time.

“You let me worry about that, pretty boy.” You told him firmly. “Now - are you gonna be good for me?”

You asked one more time, your voice demanding and hopefully fully relaying the meaning of your words.

Spencer had a choice.

And with you standing there, staring him down with heat in your eyes, looking like such a vision of lustful beauty, when he had been waiting so long for your touch, for your attention… it wasn’t much of a choice at all.

He only wanted you.

“Yes.” He squeaked out quietly, swallowing thickly around his own doubt. “Yes, I’ll be a good boy.”

You grinned a wide Cheshire grin at his words, and in a moment, you were on him.

You possessively gripped at both sides of his blazer, easily bending him to your will. You surged forward and met him as you forced his body to bend downward, capturing his mouth in a demanding, heated kiss.

It was a tiny murmur in the back of your mind that this was actually your first kiss with Spencer. You had already seen him naked and made him cum, and you were just now getting to taste his sweet lips. It was a funny thought.

In that moment, any worry about potentially getting caught easily flew from Spencer’s mind - any logic quickly dripped out of his ears.

He moaned beautifully into your mouth, and as you echoed a sound back, you had to wonder why you hadn’t kissed him sooner. He seemed to be a natural at it - or, this was the one thing he had some real practice at, which you were entirely thankful for. His lips were smooth against your own, heated and desperate, surging forward with intense gyrating motions - almost as if he was trying to consume you with his intense hunger.

Though in a moment, he easily fell under your control.

When you reached a hand up to the back of his hair and took a tight grip there, holding him like he was a beautiful object that you owned, just a toy for you to play with. He let out a sharp whine from the back of his throat, and his jaw fell slack for a moment, allowing you to bite down on his bottom lip - hard, assuring him who was in charge. The shock of pain from the bite had his hips bucking forward, and surely enough, you felt him fully hard, brushing against your hip through both of your clothing.

“What do you want, pretty boy?” You breathed against his lips.

Still desperate, needy for contact, he left a sloppy kiss on your chin before he spoke to answer the question.

“C-Can I touch you?” He whimpered out quietly. “Please.”

Your lips formed a wicked grin against him at this.

“Anything over my clothes.” You told him. When his hands still hung limply at his sides, you threw in some encouragement. “Come on, baby, touch me.”

You did have to wonder if he would have been bold enough to try and reach under the hemline of your dress; what he would have done if his fingers got as far as your underwear. But with your instructions, he had full access to your ass and breasts and you were curious to see what he would do within the rules.

You dove in for another kiss, boldly possessing his mouth with a commanding strength once again. He whimpered against your lips and - feeling as needy as he was, he eagerly followed your instructions and began feeling you up over your clothing. His hands started out humbly on your hips as your experienced, certain lips battled against his needy, rapid ones. But soon enough, he became anxious and impatient with simply grabbing on your love handles through the cotton of your dress, and he needed more.

You yanked on his hair again and took advantage of his gasp-parted lips to shove your tongue into his mouth, your body pressed firmly against his with him leaning against the wall for support. His hands began to eagerly wander, consuming your flesh for the first time and truly getting a taste of what it was like to not just be commanded by you, but what it was like to be with you.

He began grabbing the roundness of your ass in needy handfuls, his touch truly exploratory - he didn’t touch you with any skill, didn’t touch you like he was trying to get you heated and turned on. He touched you because he wanted to touch your body, badly. He was simply displaying his own hungry need for you without even considering shame in doing so.

And that was something that caused you to moan into his mouth as you raked your tongue along his teeth. He even reached a hand up and shoved it between your two bodies, groping at your breast with absolutely no grace. He was digging his fingers into the flesh like he was trying to rip it off your body and possess it entirely - it was something so filled with need that it made you so damn hot, made your cunt ache between your thighs.

You knew that you wouldn’t be able to end the day without cumming - whether it be with his help or simply having him watch and beg to touch you.

You had so many plans for him. And you couldn’t wait to see them all play out before your eyes.

You felt his erection against your leg, throbbing with just as much need, and you felt that devilish urge rise up inside of you again.

You pulled away from his lips with a wet smack, the realization hitting you once again that - yes, technically, you were in a public setting. The thought sent a thrill through you, but you had to be at least somewhat careful, lest you get caught.

“You like touching me, baby?” You cooed against his cheek.

“Yes, Miss.” He breathed out.

When you opened your eyes partially, you had to contain a gasp.

His glasses were fogged up.

Just like something out of your fantasies, his glasses were clouded with steam from the heated exchange. But he didn’t seem to notice or care. From what you could see through the layer of dew, his eyes were screwed shut and he was far too focused on his lust. He was concentrating more on groping your breast with one hand and your ass with the other, giving small, aborted humps against your hip, clearly trying not to cum in his pants.

Oh god. You wanted to see him cum in his pants. Badly.

And it was rare that you didn’t get what you wanted.

#sundrop writes #sub!spencer #sub!spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n

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ahonice · 2 years ago

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it doesn't matter

jamie drysdale x fem reader (ft. trevor zegras)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: drinking, sexual themes and mentions of sex, cursing, jamie being a fake swiftie (dw that is taken care of), reader has a guilty conscious, fluff (some angst i think), happy ending (those are rare on this blog), not proofread because i accidentally queued this so it posted on its own oops

note: i rewrote this about three times over the past two months, hope you guys are pleased with the final outcome. any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. hope you guys enjoy. have a great day, love y’all babes <3 !!!

+++

“hey you’re single right?” your head shot up at the sound of trevor, one of your closest friends, voice. you had known trevor since you moved to anaheim for college, on your first day in town he accidentally took your coffee from the pickup area at starbuck and you chased him down because you would be damned if you spent ten dollars on an iced coffee that you wouldn’t of been able to drink. it would’ve been a lie if you said you didn’t have a crush on him, he was so funny and kind and not to mention the fact that he is genuinely gorgeous, but you never acted on anything because you were worried he wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and the fact that the two of you have had one too many drunken, and a couple sober, hookups didn’t help either.

“of course i am, or else what we did last night would’ve been morally wrong, why?” your heart rate picked up, thoughts running a mile a minute. was he about to ask you out? did he actually like you back the way you dreamed he did? was our relationship finally gonna be something more than friends who fuck at times?

“i wanna set you up with my roommate, jamie. i think you guys would like each other.”

+++

it was a crushing blow, not only did trevor just inadvertently just tell you your feelings are one sided, but that they are so one sided that he thinks his roommate would be a better match for you than himself. you felt sick to your stomach, this was in no way a heartbreak, but that doesn’t mean it can’t hurt.

“earth to y/n.” trevor’s voice shook you from your trance, you had completely forgotten he was there. “you good? you haven’t said a word in like five minutes.”

“yeah i’m fine, um who is this guy? i don’t think i’ve heard you talk about a jamie before.” you wanted this to be a joke, for trevor to say he was kidding, maybe jamie wasn’t real and he just wanted to see if i was open to a relationship right now.

“well he’s on the ducks as well, seems like your type. brunette with blue eyes, he’s got nice eyebrows too, just a couple weeks older than you, i know you don’t like extremely tall guys so him being 5’11 is perfect.” the more trevor went on about jamie the more you realized that jamie was in fact a real person and did seem like my exact type. “he has freckles too, i know you love those on guys and he looks good in the color green, he checks off all your boxes y/n.” you hated that he did.

“can i see a picture before i agree to anything?” you didn’t want trevor to get suspicious when you said no, so you wanted to seem like you were at least considering it.

“absolutely.” looking over at trevor’s phone you let out a small sound of surprise.

he was gorgeous

“trevor why have you never told me about him before?” you said, grabbing his phone to go through all of his instagram posts. “he is literally beautiful!”

“i honestly didn’t even think about it, but jamie saw you at our party last week and asked about you and i knew i had to make you two happen.” trevor said, taking his phone back. “come over tonight. we’re having a party before the season starts, you’ll be able to meet jamie.”

+++

it didn’t take you very long to get ready, your hair and makeup having already been done from your errands earlier in the day, but you did struggle picking out an outfit as every twenty year old girl would. you didn’t quite know who it was that you were dressing up for, in previous months it was always trevor. you were always hoping that he would see you and you would end up staying with him until the morning. while that was usually the case, the second part of your fantasy never came true. the part where trevor realizes he has feelings for you that go further than seeing you as a good fuck. but now there was jamie, you hadn’t even met him yet and you were still wanting to impress him. maybe trevor would see you with jamie and it would make him realize his feelings for you. but jamie seemed nice, once trevor left you looked him up and watched a few too many tiktoks and interviews involving him, he seemed like the polar opposite of trevor and that might just be what you need, it also doesn’t hurt that he was just about one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your life, trevor was not lying when he said that jamie was your exact type. settling on a simple pink top and black jeans you made your way towards the uber trevor had ordered for you, palms sweaty and legs slightly shaking as you confirmed where you were headed before you saw your apartment complex disappear in the distance.

+++

“y/n thank god you’re here, i was starting to think you were pussying out.” trevor loudly yelled as he approached you, great he was already at least three drinks in. “catch up” he said once he was standing in front of you, handing you a beer.

“i don’t drink this crap, you know this.” you said, shaking your head as trevor silently continued to push the can in your face.

“fine, i bought you some caymans. they’re in the garage fridge, but don’t take too long, jamie is excited to meet you.” you ignored the way his eyebrows wiggled as you began walking towards the garage.

once you were in there you grabbed two drinks, just so you wouldn’t have to come back out for at least half an hour, as well as a shooter. you needed the liquid confidence that would come from the tiny bottle of pink whitney.

once you made your way back into the party you walked around looking for trevor, stopping a couple of times to greet those you knew, before you found him sitting with the man of the hour.

“y/n! come here, meet jamie.” trevor waved you over, you took a generous sip of the alcohol in your hand before making your way over, sitting down on the couch. trevor in the middle of us, as he began rambling to no one in particular about something you didn’t quite know, your ears tuning him out as the sound of your heartbeat in your ears took over all your senses.

“y/n, are you even listening to me?” trevor asked you, gently poking the exposed part of your waist.

“no.” the laugh you heard after that made a bush creep up your neck, jamie’s laugh was just as beautiful as he was.

“rude, anyways y/n this is jamie. jamie, this is y/n.” he motioned the two of you towards each other as he talked, jamie reached in front of him to offer you his hand. “now get to know one another, i’m gonna go play pong.” trevor stood up before you could protest him leaving you alone with jamie.

you expected it to be awkward, but it wasn’t. conversation was flowing between the two of you like you had known each other for years, you talked about the basics, what tv shows you enjoyed, favorite movies, taste in music, which then led to a thirty minute discussion about taylor swift and how jamie claimed he was a swiftie but couldn’t name any songs that weren’t played on the radio

“i have a lot to teach you i guess.” you were definitely making it obvious that you were interested in him, but you didn’t care. you’d usually be so shy around a guy so cute, but something about jamie made you calm, that was the simplest way to put it.

“i would love that.” the blush on his face matched yours. you smiled at him, contemplating whether or not you wanted to ask the question you had been wanting the answer to all night.

“so why have i never seen you around or met you before? i’ve known trevor for almost two years now, and i’m over here quite a lot.”

“i usually just stay in my room all day, especially during parties, i’m not the biggest fan of them.”

“then why are you out here right now and not bunkered up in your room?”

“i wanted to meet you, to get to know you.” jamie answered, scratching the back of his head and giving you a sheepish smile. “i came downstairs last weekend to grab something from the kitchen and that's when i saw you, i really lucked out that you are friends with trevor or else i probably never would’ve been able to find out who you were.”

you nodded at his response, informing him that you were glad you were friends with trevor too.

“speaking of him, i was hoping to see him again before i left.” you told jamie, standing up from your spot on the couch noticing his slightly upset expression. “let me give you my number, i would love to see you again, maybe begin my lessons on taylor swift to you.”

“i would love that.”

+++

after exchanging contact information with jamie you made your way outside towards the pong tables, hoping that trevor would still be out there.

“hey trevor, i was just about to leave, wanted to say goodbye.” you said approaching him in the dimly lit yard.

“you’re leaving already? i didn’t even get any time with you.” he pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder his arms loosely around your waist.

“sorry trev, but i got to know jamie. don’t let this get to your head, but i think you might be a pretty good wingman.” you joked, your arms around his neck gently running your hands through the ends of his hair. it wasn’t abnormal for the two of you to be so affectionate, so this felt normal.

“good, i’m glad.” his tone didn’t sound like his statement, but you could easily chalk that up to the alcohol in his system finally wearing him down.

“why don’t i help you get into bed? basically everyone has left already.” you suggested, forcing his head up to meet yours at your eye level.

he smirked before responding. “i like where this was going.”

“nothing like that buddy, besides you just set me up with your best friend that wouldn’t be a good idea, don’t you think?”

“that's not fair, you can’t do that.” he mumbled, his head dropping back down into the crook of your neck. “you can’t say you're taking me to bed, and then not take me to bed the way i want you to take me to bed."

you rolled your eyes at his comment and began dragging him back inside and up towards his room. once you wrestled him out of his jeans, giving up on putting pants on him because of his multiple attempts to lure you into bed, you got him to lay down and made sure he was comfortable before you headed downstairs to get some water and pain killers for him to take once he woke up in the morning.

“goodnight trevor.”

you made your way outside onto the front lawn while you waited for your uber to arrive. you usually would’ve taken trevor up on his offer to spend the night with him, but something about even just thinking about doing that was now making you feel guilty. it wasn’t like you and jamie were in a committed relationship or anything, but he seemed to genuinely like you and was actually interested in getting to know you and you didn’t want to do anything to sabotage that.

+++

from: unknown number

can we meet up today for coffee or lunch? i would love to start becoming a real swiftie.

to: unknown number

am i right in assuming this is jamie??

from: unknown number

yes 🙃

to: jamie🤭

i would love to meet up.

to: jamie🤭

could we get lunch? i am literally starving because of my hangover.

from: jamie🤭

absolutely. send me your address, i’ll come pick you up.

+++

you were in full panic mode, you had no idea what to wear and the fact that it was visibly obvious that you were hungover didn’t help at all. you told jamie to give you at least thirty minutes, after he told you that an hour was too long.

you took the fastest shower you ever have in your life before tackling the biggest issue, your outfit. you went through every drawer, bin, and your closet before you decided on biker shorts and a crewneck. you could only hope that jamie wasn’t planning on taking you somewhere with a dress code.

makeup was applied and your hair was pulled into a claw clip before jamie texted you that he was outside, you did some final touches before you made your way out of your apartment complex. you lucked out seeing that jamie was in a comfy outfit just like you were. once you were buckled up jamie handed you his phone and told you to pick the music before driving off.

+++

“so what is your all time favorite taylor swift song?” jamie asked once he joined you in the booth you found for the two of you, he had taken you to in and out claiming he was craving a burger, and you didn’t complain because you would never pass up the opportunity to fuck up some animal fries.

“i don’t have just one, i think it is humanly impossible to have just one.” you told him, taking a sip of your lemonade before continuing. “i do, however, have a list of my top sixteen songs by her in no particular order.”

“sixteen songs? that’s insane.”

“she has over two hundred songs, you’ve got a lot of listening to do.”

“well why don’t you give me your list of songs, the only ones i really care about are the ones you like.” you blushed at his words, before stating all of your favorite songs by her. his only responses were “i don’t know that one, never heard of it, i know that one, wait no i don’t”

once you were done and jamie confirmed all the songs were now added to his spotify you two began eating as you gave him a run down of her career.

“so who is your favorite and least favorite ex of hers?”

“i hope you don’t have plans for the rest of the day because i have a lot to say on this.”

+++

“do you want to get dessert? there is a nice ice cream place a few minutes from here.” jamie asked while you two were walking around huntington beach. you didn’t even realize how long the two of you had been hanging out until he asked if you wanted to get dinner, and now three hours after that when he is now asking to get dessert.

“yea i would love to.” he smiled down at you and you made the move to hold his hand. “sorry, i hope this is ok, i just wanted to hold your hand.” you blushed, turning your head away from him.

“it’s ok, i wanted to as well.” he blushed as well before he began leading the way towards the ice cream shop.

+++

“i had a lot of fun today, i was honestly a little nervous that with both of us sober it would be a little awkward, but it wasn’t and i would like to see you again. soon. sorry if that is a bit forward.” you told jamie as he pulled up in front of your apartment.

“i’d like to see you soon too, like tomorrow soon. are you busy tomorrow? we could get dinner, a nice place this time, not that in and out and qdoba aren’t nice it’s just-”

“yea i would love to, just send me the restaurants info before so i can figure out what to wear.”

“you’ll look beautiful in whatever you wear y/n.” you blushed at jamie’s comment before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. you were quick to get out of the car, yelling a goodbye as you ran into the front doors of your building.

+++

“finally you’re back. where the hell were you? i’ve been here for hours.”

“how the hell did you get into my apartment trevor?” you asked the boy who was sprawled out across your couch eating your food. “stop eating my wheat thins asshole.”

“i found your spare key, i mean hiding it on the top of the door frame is just a horrible idea y/n.” trevor said as he went back into your kitchen, hopefully to put your snacks away.

“what are you doing her trev?” you asked, taking your shoes off before making your way into the living room.

“where were you? you’re never out late, and i got here at like two and it’s now eleven. did you pick up a shift?” trevor was quick to join you on the couch, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over the two of you.

“no, i was actually with jamie, he picked me up at noon to get lunch and then we spent the whole day together.” you blushed remembering how much fun you had today and how it was the first time in a while that you had enjoyed a date that much.

“oh, i didn’t realize that you two were getting along that well.” trevor said, reaching towards the table to grab the remote. “what the hell did you two talk about for nearly twelve hours? jamie cannot be that interesting of a guy.”

“we started off talking about taylor swift and how he is a fake swiftie, just like you are.” trevor cut you off with a gasp and hit you with the pillow he was using. “and then we talked about our childhoods, stories from school and growing up where we did.” you smiled at nothing, just reflecting on this one story jamie had told you about his worst halloween costume, which you then one upped with your own horrible halloween story. “thanks for pushing me to meet him trevor, i know it’s only been a day but i feel an actual connection with him and i can’t remember the last time i felt that with a guy.”

+++

you and jamie had been going on dates multiple times a week for the past month now and tonight the team had the night off and jamie was taking you to his favorite restaurant for date night. you weren’t dating, yet, but both you and jamie have spoken about it as something you both want. it’s just up to when the timing is right.

“where is he taking you out tonight?” trevor asked you as he joined you in your bedroom. you called him over to help you pick out an outfit for tonight.

“cortina’s” it wasn’t a black tie restaurant, but it wasn’t a jeans and a tshirt restaurant either. “i was thinking my black leather pants and then a nice top, maybe my pink top with the mesh sleeves?” you were met with silence from your best friend, “hello? earth to trevor.”

“sorry what?” you rolled your eyes before entering the bathroom, changing into the outfit you had in mind. “what do you think?”

“i think that jamie isn’t coming to pick you up for another two hours and that gives us plenty of time to have some fun.” trevor said, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you open mouth kisses on the exposed skin of your neck down to your shoulder, you let yourself revel in the feeling before you snapped back into your senses.

“trevor stop.” you pushed his arms off of you as you distanced yourself from him. “trevor you can’t do that, we can’t do this anymore.”

“why not y/n? you and jamie aren’t dating, there is nothing wrong with it. it’s been a month and i’m getting frustrated.” he groaned, flopping down onto your bed.

“that is not my issue trev, don’t blame me. i can guarantee that there are at least one hundred girls in your dm’s right now who would be willing to hook up with you, go bother one of them.” you snapped back at him, not in the mood.

“i don’t want some random girl, i want you y/n. aren’t you in the mood even a little bit, it’s been a month for you too.” you avoided his eyes as you made your way to your vanity to begin your makeup. “wait have you been fucking jamie? what the fuck y/n?”

“trevor you have no right to be upset, we are nothing. you were the one who set us up. isn’t this what you wanted?”

“no this isn’t what i wanted, i should’ve just made jamie make a move on his own. if that was the case you would still have no idea who the hell he was because jamie is too much of a little-”

“get out.” you cut trevor off before he could say anything worse. “trevor get out and don’t talk to me until you manage to get your head out of your ass.”

+++

“is everything okay? you seem a bit off.” jamie asked, he was right. after your argument with trevor you had been a bit out of it, the guilt of what you had done with trevor in the past was eating away at you. “could we talk about it later? i don’t want to ruin dinner.” your voice was shaky as you spoke.

“yes of course, but i’m gonna be honest i’m a little worried now.” jamie said, playing with the napkin on his lap.

“i am too, don't worry.” your attempt at a joke didn’t help, but thankfully the waiter came to take our orders.

+++

dinner was terrible.

you two tried your hardest to have everything be normal and how things had been in the past month, but both of you were worried about what you had to say. jamie was scared you were gonna break things off with him, he was already nervous for tonight because he was going to ask to make things official between you two, and now he was even more on edge. while you were worried that after you told him about you and trevor’s past that he would no longer want anything to do with you and would break things off before they even got fully started.

“so can you tell me what is going on?” jamie asked once you two had exited the restaurant and were sitting in his car.

“i want you to know that this started before i even knew you existed and it stopped the moment i met you.” you took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “trevor and i had been hooking up, for nearly the whole time we were friends, but i swear to you the second i met you i cut it off. i’m really sorry for not telling you sooner, it’s just that i really, really, like you and i didn’t want anything to jeopardize that, even though keeping it a secret probably wasn’t the best alternative.” you looked out the window, avoiding his gaze, afraid of how badly he was judging you right now. “i understand if you don’t want to continue this anymore, you can just drop me off right here and i’ll uber home.”

“y/n. i don’t care.” you finally peeled your eyes away from the reflection of the cars in the side view mirror to see jamie looking at you with a smile. “your previous relationships are none of my business, yes it is a bit uncomfortable that he is my roommate and one of my closest friends, as well as one of yours, but i really, really, like you too so that doesn’t matter to me.” you smiled back at him, a few tears building up in your waterline. “i was actually going to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend, and i still want to. so y/n would you make me the happiest man alive and officially become my girlfriend?”

“yes jamie, i would be honored.” you leaned over the center console and kissed his cheek, to not distract him from the road. “it sounds like you proposed jamie.” you laughed. “are things going to be weird around trevor for you?” you hated the idea of being the cause of their falling out, or to have any team problems sprout from this.

“yes.” jamie replied bluntly. “and i’m definitely not the biggest fan of you two hanging out without me there, at least for a little bit, but it’ll all work out. i won’t let it get to me or my game, but the second he makes a comment about you it’s over.”

you giggled before replying with a short “got it.” and placed your hand over his.

“and don’t worry, i never plan on going anywhere without you drysdale. you’re gonna have to start coming to girls' nights too.”

+++

note: i actually rewrote this three times and each time the plot was different, the last version was so much juicer and had so much drama (trevor realized he was in love with reader, but he was too late dun dun DUNNNN) but i cut that out because i couldn’t get the wording right. anyways i hope y’all enjoyed, leave feedback (any and all is appreciated), have a great day, i love y’all babes <3 !!!

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #anaheim ducks #nhl imagine #ahonice writes

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symphonic-scream · 4 months ago

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Post

Uhm. Another P5 characters with P4 plot au. This one with Makoto-Goro siblings

I'm off my ADHD meds for a little bit so my mind is running wild again so here's another au.

The wildcard is Akira/Joker here. He's staying with Sojiro and Futaba while his family is on a world traveling cruise for a year.

Star is Morgana. He's, more like P5 Morgana. A cat.

Magician? Futaba! She's basically Inaba's only tech support, and takes a lot of crap for being so "obsessed" with something that's "ruining the youth"

Chariot Ann for this one. She plays volleyball, moved to Inaba the year before, has a girlfriend back in Tokyo. She's hoping to get to see her at tournaments.

Priestess Yusuke! His mom, Sayuri, runs the Inaba Gallery, which holds cultural art and pieces about the town's history. He has been spending more time running tours since her illness has spiked. (Transmasc Yusuke)

Emperor Ryuji! He's misunderstood. Wants to protect his Ma, but everyone just sees the violence they saw in his dad. He's also coming to terms with being bi

Lovers Haru. She's a celebrity chef, taking a year off from being a baking show host after a ton of threatening letters, and a break in while she was away from home. So she's staying with her Uncle Munehisa Iwai and cousin Kaoru, helping out at their airsoft and hunting shop

And. Fortune Makoto. But gimme a sec to explain that one

Instead of one detective Prince? This au has TWO!! The Detective Princes, the Akechi twins; Goro Akechi, the charmer, runs a sweets blog, the Hunger Arcana. And Makoto Akechi, the silent broodier twin, the lonelier brother, the Fortune Arcana

Now let's talk specifics. Makoto is AFAB, female at birth. After their parents up and left, Makoto started pretending to be Goro's brother to be "safer". Then, it felt good. But, not quite right. (Non-binary Makoto.) They haven't thought about it since they started binding and taking T, at 15. There's other issues at play

Makoto doesn't know who they are anymore. All anyone sees of them is Goro's twin, the little brother, the shadow to the much more beloved Prince. They swallow down anxiety pills each morning, trying to erase the shake they feel in front of the camera. It doesn't ease the sting of their brother's harsh words

Goro wears his outfit from canon. Makoto has a similar coat, but instead of tan it's dark blue. Black pants, black boots to his black dress shoes. No headband. Less bangs. They keep their hair shorter than Goro's. To help pretend to be his brother. It's choppy, a little wild, and when it's wet from the rain it sticks up all over. They have a custom Breton style cap (it's like a police cap), it's dark blue, black, has a bright blue fist on the part where a badge would go.

They start to split more and more as the story goes on. It really strikes when Makoto starts at Yasogami, and Goro continues on playing the adult. After Makoto is saved from the TV, they move out of their apartment, living in the spare room in the Kitagawa home

Anyways that's the outline under the cut will be extra stuff I've come up with

Makoto, post being rescued, lying out by the Samegawa riverside, late at night, hat beside them just. Watching the stars

Haru lies beside them. Doesn't say a word. But, she takes their hand

Makoto: ...do you think I'm doing any good with the group?

Haru: of course you are, why would you ask that?

Makoto: ...

Haru: oh, your fight with Ryuji.

Makoto: it, did he say it was a fight?

Haru: he seemed upset like it was one. What happened?

Makoto: ...he asked me out. But, I don't know, it didn't feel right. I can't tell what he thinks I am, *who* he thinks I am. But, I know it's not who I want to be

Haru: he doesn't think of you as a girl. None of us do

Makoto: but he sees me as a guy.

Haru: ...and that's not you? You're neither?

Makoto: I'm, that's an option?

Haru: oh, you isolated little baby queer

Makoto: wha

Haru taps at their bound chest a little: you like this, right? The binding?

Makoto: yeah. I always have, it's why I started the hormones. But,

Haru: are you worried they'll turn you into someone you're not?

Makoto: it's silly, cause, I like what I've gotten. But,

Haru: but it's enough?

Makoto: it's enough,

Haru: hey, did I tell you I like girls?

Makoto: no?

Haru: mm. Cause I like girls. But I also like, non-men. And some men, selectively.

Makoto: oh? So, you know about this stuff?

Haru: I do. So does Akira, and Yusuke, and even Ann. So, we could talk to Ryuji over time, get him to understand some stuff, if you were interested in trying with him. We could do so regardless

Makoto: ...he's not, my type. I, I think I also like non-men. Women too.

Haru: hm, fancy that

Haru, flirting

Makoto, densest motherfucker in Inaba

Haru: how about this? I can start using neutral terms with you, see how you feel? Maybe ask Yusuke and his Mom to do the same?

Makoto: that, sounds nice. I'm, going to talk to my doctor. Lower my, T. A little bit.

Makoto at school, quiet and pensive, in the male uniform with their cap, hands in pockets, just standing by the stairs, looking at their boots

And Haru slides over, hand to their wrist, smiling all pretty, and Makoto softly smiles back

Their whole class thinks they're dating lmao. The whole school thinks so

Ryuji: ...ah, so I wasn't his type to begin with. EFF,

Yusuke: hm? Oh, Makoto-senpai wishes to be referred to with gender-neutral terms. You weren't *their* type to begin with

Ryuji:

Ann: YOU KILLED HIM LMAOOO

Akira: rip Ryuji

A little skip. To them being in Relationship together

Makoto lying back on Haru's bed, knees off the edge, coat thrown off, black turtleneck riding up just enough to hint at abs. Haru sits on their lap, work apron tossed aside, the dark button-up having a few buttons undone at the bottom, a few at the top. She's holding one of Makoto's hands to her thigh, just under where her skirt rests, the other is on their stomach. Makoto's remaining hand is buried in bright curls, and they're panting, Haru giggling as she sprinkles kisses to their jaw

"Your, your uncle- when will he,"

"We still have a little time, don't worry. I woudlnt put you in a situation where he'd try to kill you."

Makoto's mind is spinning so fast. Only thought being "Haru". Haru is having fun turning her stiff little detective into affectionate mush

And, when her uncle does come home,

Munehisa: hey, you didnt tell me you had a boy over

Haru: uncle, this is Makoto! ***They're*** helping me study for exams!

Munehisa: ...uh, okay? Just. No funny business with my niece, okay?

Makoto: Y-YES SIR

So. Yeah

#p5 as P4 au #akechi twins au #makoto niijima #haru okumura #okujima #ryuji sakamoto #yusuke kitagawa #ann takamaki #goro akechi #futaba sakura #akira kurusu

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ladyluscinia · 1 year ago

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Your post about Ed's trauma vs. the Stormtrooper fights is right on the money imo. What gets me is that it didn't have to be an impediment when there could have been a fuckery! The reunited Revenge crew, now even stronger b/c of Izzy's integration, could have pulled an amazing Theatre Kid con that highlighted Ed and Stede's creative chemistry and this underdog group's ability to Bugs Bunny their way past better fighters with no casualties. Instead, Ricky has the biggest fuckery of s2, wtf?

Re: This. I think the fandom might have made the idea of fuckeries more interesting and important than canon intended to, in hindsight.

Like the idea of doing piracy through primarily theatre gay productions that upend the risk of dying in combat in favor of special effects hijinks was a really good comedy concept. And it worked well with the two main character types we got in S1 - silly theatrical underdog who cannot win a swordfight for the life of him + dramatic hidden depths guy who became a legendary pirate but can't actually kill people himself - and the rest of the crew's vibe in general - eclectic misfits that will not be intimidating anyone. I even liked it for Izzy! I know we liked to say he was from Black Sails but tbh he really wasn't, and the guy who slashed up Stede's shirt without breaking skin was made for selling that kind of bullshit as dangerous.

But - for all the extensive meta tracking how Stede's underdog trickery comes out on top again and again (primarily from Stede blogs, obviously, though everyone seemed to agree it was pretty solid) - canon only describes 2 instances as fuckeries: the introduction of the concept in 1x06, and Stede faking his death in 1x10. Everything else - even in S2 - is just fandom extending the concept because we think it's cool and makes sense. Ricky doesn't do "a fuckery", he just betrays Zheng with a trick and makes a pun about it.

Looking back, I think fuckeries only exist as a thing in OFMD meta because we liked the thought of them, and the kind of comedic canon they would support (team crafts, hijinks, no danger, muppet logic). I think S2 makes it clear canon only viewed a "fuckery" as the symbolic first step in Stede being a pirate. He's introduced to the concept when he's not ready yet, and then he successfully crafts and executes one at the end of S1 (against people who aren't trying to fight him, crucially) to show his rebirth. Now in S2 he's free to move onto real piracy - life threatening situations and swordfights. The penchant for trickery and underdog jokes is just character flavor, not an actual pursuit of its own.

That's why raids in 2x05 are just raids, talking in 2x06 is just talking, and the Navy dress-up in 2x08 is not an alternative to getting past the British mooks, but some kind of leg up on surprise attacking them (at least that's what it kinda looks like?). It's not "a fuckery" - it's a battle plan that can be sprinkled with hints of fuckery to spook, befuddle, or surprise. You still win with skill at violence.

Piracy is an action/adventure genre about killing your enemies with swords, guns, and cannons, and apparently OFMD was never looking to challenge that - just play in the space of our cast getting good (or maybe getting out).

#and by *not* looking to challenge that or do something unique it draws firmer comparisons to other pirate media i've seen #which is certainly a choice considering ofmd is not winning in the arena of 'best war with the british empire'#but they actually had a leg to stand on in cartoonish hijinks #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #ofmd 2x08 #stede bonnet ofmd #blackbeard ofmd #ofmd piracy #genre #ladyluscinia #ask #anon

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itsnotablogsblog · 6 days ago

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CUNTY OMENS TO CATATONIC DISASTER

TO PEOPLE IMPERSONATING NOAH Sebastian?

Featuring : @catatonic_peace on x and @theoverglow

Welcome back to another rant. You know from what I get these types of people aren’t the greatest.

First off there’s reasons why I don’t like these people

THE STUPIDITY

Obviously.

Like seriously. Get a fucking grip. You tend to bully people online because of their opinions and what they have to say? You fucking babies.

I’m surprised that even Noah doesn’t even have a single fuck of who you guys are and yet you tend to pose as if things will “get worse”

YOU GUYS TAKE OFFENSE

I’m actually sort of surprised. You don’t like people because of what they say or do, and let me tell you, it’s very very amusing to see.

You guys tend to not embarrass yourselves because you don’t want your ugly side to be seen.

What a shame.

Hi, hello. Welcome back to another rant 😃

Honestly to be fair, I wasn’t going to post anything this month, but you guys made me so here’s the tea about what’s been going on recently.

SOMEONES INPERSONATING NOAH SEBASTIAN

I’m not quite sure who it is exactly, but word on the street or I should say internet there’s been a little busy bee trying to carry tea to our little own world of Bad Omens.

But here’s the problem. To me honestly it’s not a big deal whether or not we disagree with one thing or another.

What the problem is with people is their way of character and their own personality that makes me very bothered.

Of course there’s people who get tattoos and whatever else of their favorite band and shit like that.

But when it comes to one person in particular, well that’s kind of the odd placement.

But who in their right mind dresses like Noah Fucking Sebastian and wants to be exactly like him?

Doesn’t that bother anyone?

I definitely find it creepy you savage like fans want nothing but this man to notice you. You know how creepy that feels.

There’s also been a rumor that someone has the same tattoo as Noah.

But anyway.

I would say that in this case impersonating someone famous isn’t always a good thing.

Just because of what happened with the Ariana Grande impersonator. Yeah that didn’t end well. She got banned from social media and most of it was on Tik Tok.

Ariana took notice and she did not like it one bit.

Now let’s say that Noah sees this.

There are reasons to why it’s creepy and very disturbing for fans to actually buy the same clothing as their favorite singer.

But having the same tattoos?

Really?

You guys are causing me a headache.

There’s a line from being an fan girl and actually having fun and supporting your favorite band or artist

And then there’s the obsession line.

This is purely obsession. There is an entire effect. Doesn’t matter how you think or act on it.

Also these tea blogs that spread Noah’s info, and then tell it to the whole fanbase. I mean are you guys really going to keep it a “secret” that you guys only know? Because that right there I mean technically you aren’t leaving the man alone.

No one should know this much information about ONE SPECIFIC PERSON. Ya fucking nutjobs

Go suck on someone else’s binky.

CATATONIC_PEACE? Yeah in their fucked up peace of mind.

She doesn’t seem nice. Turns out I was wrong you’re nothing but a jerk to people who take offense in quoting things on your post.

Also why are you defending someone who doesn’t even know you exist? No one even likes your ass.

If you want me to be honest with you. Then here it is.

I don’t associate with assholes. You seem like you got your ass stuck way up in your face to see that.

Also, I think you’re really annoying.

But I don’t wanna be rude or an ass, it’s just you two are really a pain in the fucking ass.

And since this fandom is toxic as shit, I don’t think you two are really fans. It’s simple. You sass everyone around including yourselves

Also if I don’t know shit how else do you think I know shit? You don’t even know shit. So stop saying shit you ass.

But hey small world we live in.

Anyways, if it’s better for you to block people you really dislike maybe don’t make it too obvious that you hate them.

Oh and

THE OVERGLOW

This shows that you have some sort of problem with people who you don’t even know.

You like to make fun of people. You like to humiliate others by posting their social media all over twitter just because you like making fun of them. That’s not nice at all dude. It shows that somehow you are childish and aren’t mature enough to even consider yourself a good person.

What is there to gain? You have what? 1.1k followers on your Twitter account, and just post nothing but Bad Omens content and Noah Sebastian?

Ridiculous.

Also is this you?

You state you don’t hate the person. But what about you?

Also “THE CUNTY NOAH??” Oomph you’re some next level of cunt that’s for sure. If you don’t hate the person then why tweet out that you clearly don’t like them for a specific purpose? You shitiot.

God. What a nutcase.

Actually if you hate someone so much, why the fuck would you humiliate them in front of billions of people who don’t even know her? Who the fuck do you think you are?

Humiliating someone on tumblr too? Wait actually that was your group of friends who decided to take things to your “secret” tumblr account. What was it?

Oh yeah.

OMENSANDMORE. Wow who knew.

Anyways.

I mean I would go on and on about what I dislike about you but considering the way you attract people and tell them and try to make them feel like a total shit head, I think it’s you. Which makes you a very disrespectful person.

What do you gain here actually?

You and catatonic ratpiss, aren’t good people.

You guys would rather make fun of a person than getting to know the person.

Wait actually there’s more.

BAD OMENS TWITTER HAS NO OWNER YOU FUCKS

That’s right. Twitter has no owner. And whatever you guys are doing to keep sucking twitters dick is basically nutting off of Noah Sebastian.

To see who the “better leader” is.

The only owner is Elon Musk.

You guys dominate it as your own territory where specific people you like can only comment on whatever shit you guys are on.

So who has the bigger dick?

No one actually. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinions and views on anything.

You guys take everything so serious that half of the other fans who ARE ACTUALLY SANE AND NOT DELULU See you guys as nut fucks.

You are no one.

CUNTY FANS?

Well the question isn’t the answer.

There’s always going to be cunty people on social media.

Why cunty you say?

Well let’s see.

They think they’re the top dogs of everything and say they own a part of social media. Which isn’t true.

Cunty = being a baffoon. A clown. A bitch. Anything in between.

Honestly if there isn’t any respect in this fandom at all then what is the fucking standpoint to any of this?

Obviously there isn’t none because it’s been happening a lot lately. You guys keep it toxic. You want the drama, you want the tea?

Then come pick up your plate and serve it on the table for everyone to see.

You want toxic fanbase. Great. Go pick it up with your own two hands and suck everyone off.

Manipulate them into thinking you’re the better person, because you aren’t.

#bad omens #bad omens cult #spill the tea #drama #badomens Twitter #noah sebastian #jolly karlsson #badomenstea #nick folio #noah sebastian davis

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mouse-or-mousai · 25 days ago

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Welcome, one and all, to the blog of Kalos’s own sparkling performer! My name is Mousai, and alongside my wonderful team, Skitty, Iron Valiant (Valiant for short), and Diancie, we’ve come to put on the best performances Kalos, and the world, have ever seen! But behind the dresses and sparkling bows…

I’m a bit of a fraud. Tragically, Pokemon Performers are an exclusively all girl class, and I don’t exactly fit those requirements. So instead, I cross-dress so that I’m able to perform. It’s a sort of double-life scenario. And I’m a bit too deep in to back out now. My real name is Mouse, I use He/Him or Rib/Bon. But when I’m cross dressing and performing, I used She/Her.

On stage, I don’t call my pokemon by the names I’ve given them, to preserve our identity. Furthermore, I’ll only be posting about my skitty, Hebe, and my recently acquired espurr, Eleos, on my main, as to avoid suspicions. Here are some info cards about them!

I battle with them, for their enrichment, but not competitively. They seem to enjoy performances as much as I do!

#💝 ~ intro! — this post.

#💝 ~ just your average guy! — Mouse doing shit.

#💝 ~ the pretty performer! — Mousai doing shit.

#💝 ~ doomscrolling in kalos! — Mouse posting shit.

#💝 ~ pose for the fans! — Mousai posting shit.

#💝 ~ peer through the reflection — a look to the past (aka Mouse as a kid).

#💝 ~ ask games! — self explanatory.

#💚 ~ ooc! — out of character posts.

#💚 ~ maintenance… — blog reboot/clean up stuff.

#💚 ~ pre blog reboot… — posts that occurred before the blog reboot and were kept. Nothing important happened in these posts, just small online interactions from Mouse.

#💝 ~ intro!#💚 ~ ooc!#rotomblr #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #pokemon rp #kalosposting #kalos region #pokemon blog #pkmn rp #pkmn blog #pkmn oc #pokeblr

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vettelsvee · 2 months ago

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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 5: I'LL NEVER LEAVE... NEVER MIND [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | wattpad f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 4437

summary: after not seeing each other in almost five years, seb and y/n finally meet with just one purpose for her: telling seb they have a 4 year old daughter. will y/n be able to tell him?

warnings: mentions of sex. i think nothing else but i literally cried while writing this. i recommend that you listen to loml by taylor swift while reading this hehe

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: i'm finally back! sorry you had to wait this long to get a new chapter but writers block had me going like crazy, as well as my mental health in general. i had something else planned for today BUT be aware of what I'm posting tomorrow since you might like it! christmas is coming soon and i have a surprise ready for you. let me remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated. and also comment me your thoughts and theories on the story pls! missed you so much guys, thank you for everything, love you all <3

May 15th Heppenheim, Germany

“Y/N, remember that you need to be careful with what you say to Seb. I know you want to tell him about Emily, but also consider whether today is the right time. Imagine if…”

You stop listening to Hanna the moment her lips utter your daughter’s name. Instead, your mind started creating a thousand different scenarios about what could happen when you saw your ex-boyfriend today. Your gaze remained fixed on the mirror in your room.

You only returned home five days ago, but it felt like an eternity.

You knew perfectly well why, or rather, you knew perfectly well who was to blame for your distorted sense of time: Sebastian Vettel, of course.

The trip to London felt like a fresh start. While the main reason to go was your meeting with Capital Records to discuss what your near future might hold, you considered it as an opportunity to rethink what you wanted to do with your life from now on.

You had just turned 30, and the only thing you longed for was to start this new decade with a clean slate in every possible way. That, of course, included facing your past mistakes and recognizing your faults, one of which you might be about to commit today.

Hanna acted as some sort of mediator between you and Seb because, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to send him even the simplest of messages. The driver seemed to understand, as he told Hanna not to worry, that he understood, and that all you needed to do was show up without standing him up.

Despite having agreed to meet at your house, you decided to dress up a little to present yourself in the best way possible. After spending far more time than you’d like to admit choosing what to wear, you settled on a light blue knee-length dress and white Converse sneakers, with a bracelet your daughter made (or better said your mother made, just Emily took credit for).

"Y/N, are you even listening to me?"

The reflection of your best friend in the mirror startled you. You turned towards her, trying to maintain the calm you’ve lacked since returning from London. Exactly five days that have felt like five years.

Like the five years since you last saw Seb.

"Hey, cat got your tongue or what?" insisted the blonde. "Seriously, Y/N, I want you to be speechless, but preferably when you and Seb take the conversation from the couch to the bed and he makes you scream his name again just like he used to do when..."

"Hanna, for God's sake, shut up! Seb and I are only going to talk about..."

"I know, I know, I was just trying to make you laugh. You know I like to..."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

If you were restless before, pacing back and forth in your room, checking that there was no trace of Emily in the house for Seb to find, now you were frozen like a statue.

You looked at Hanna, and she looked back at you. You shrugged, but Hanna just put her exaggeratedly unfriendly faces.

"Hanna, no..."

"It's Seb, Y/N! It's just Seb, for heaven's sake," she interrupted, and you cut her off just as fast.

"It's the Seb I haven't seen in five years!" you stammered, feeling the anxiety taking over. "Seriously, Hanna, this was a very, very bad idea. I don’t even know why I asked you to tell him to come and..."

"Because he's the father of your daughter, and your only goal is to tell him!" she yelled, trying not to raise her voice too much but failing miserably. You hoped to God Vettel didn’t hear that.

"Hanna..."

"Since I know you're not going to open the door, I'll do it myself. Stay here or come down, do whatever you want, but I'll tell Seb to come find you because clearly, you can't handle welcoming your guest," she declared.

Without saying anything else, she strided out of your room. You could only follow her, practically tripping down the stairs, legs trembling like a teenager on her first date. Your pulse was pounding in your temples, while your mind kept screaming at your body to calm down.

As soon as you stepped onto the ground floor, you saw Hanna opening the door. Her cheerful voice broke the silence, asking Seb how he was and, to your surprise, inviting him in.

You inched closer, not quite enough for them to notice you. Then you stopped, inspecting Seb from head to toe, as if you didn't already know every inch of his body by heart. Even though you were used to seeing him on TV and social media daily, it felt like you haven’t seen him in all this time you’ve been out of touch. He was wearing a slightly worn-out white t-shirt and jeans. His hair was perfectly trimmed, though a bit longer on top, and his beard, probably several days old, was what caught your attention the most, looking just the way you liked it.

But what really captivated you was the bouquet of yellow tulips he was holding, just like he used to bring you for dates or whenever it was a special day for either of you back when you were dating.

You swallowed hard, guilt washing over you as you thought, for a fleeting moment, about him handing you a flower bouquet before you told him you were having his baby.

"Hi..."

You thought your whisper was too soft to be heard, but it was quite the opposite.

Both Seb and Hanna turned to look at each other, then focused on you, still standing in the entryway. Your best friend tensed up slightly, but you tried to reassure her with a slight movement of your hands. The expression on your ex-boyfriend’s face seemed to light up at your small intervention, even if it was minimal.

“Well, Seb, I'll leave you with Y/N. I have a few errands to run…” Your friend tried to excuse herself, though both of you knew it wasn’t true. “See you later for a drink guys!

She winked and quickly slipped out, shutting the door behind her before either of you could even say goodbye.

Now, it was just the two of you, alone.

Seb looked at you again, and you couldn’t help it but get lost in the blue of his eyes. The situation felt strange. You used to cherish every moment of being alone together, but now you didn’t even know how to say a simple "hello."

You once trusted him completely, and now you were unsure whether to offer him a drink or tell him that you have a four-year-old daughter.

“Hi, sunshine,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Hi, Seb.”

He took a step towards you, slowly moving closer. You noticed how his gaze shifted from the flowers to your eyes, as if he was searching for some kind of answer from you. His eyes reflected a mixture of nervousness and tenderness, stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside you.

He didn’t have to say it, you could see it in his eyes. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture, this little detail that used to drive you crazy, but now… you didn’t know how to feel about it.

You, on the other hand, were utterly stunned.

How, after all this time and how cold you ended things, could he still do this? How could he still remember?

“These... are for you,” he finally said, his voice low and shaky. He handed you the bouquet, his hands trembling.

You met his gaze, and the way he looked at you was filled with fear, insecurity, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of tenderness. He didn’t need to say it out loud because you knew him too well. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, taking your time to smell the flowers.

You couldn’t hold it in. Tears began to blur your vision, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you.

He noticed. Even though you didn’t want to, even though you didn’t feel capable of getting close enough to give him a kiss on the cheek or maybe even a hug, Seb did it anyway.

“It's okay, Y/N,” he whispered. “It’s okay...”

But it wasn’t okay… it was far from okay.

Sebastian Vettel was here, once again, standing in front of you, and possibly back in your life. The boy you once considered your best friend, the best friend you fell in love with, the driver you always supported, and most importantly, the father of your child, was back in your life in such an unexpected way that it still felt surreal.

“I don’t know...” you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. “It feels surreal that after everything, after such an empty goodbye, here we are, together again,” you confessed. “It’s weird seeing you in front of me in the flesh and not as pixels on a screen.”

“Y/N…”

“I’ve missed you, Seb. So much.”

You knew your honesty didn’t catch him by surprise, because he felt the same way. That’s what hurt the most.

“I missed you too, Y/N. I really did...” he said after a moment, wrapping his arms around you, and you pressed your face against his chest.

“Seb…”

“Don’t overthink it, really,” he interrupted gently. “I’m not here to talk about the past or blame anyone,” he paused, letting out a breath before continuing. “I just want us to go back to who we were before we were together. But, if I’m being honest, we’ve been in love with each other for so long that I can’t remember a time when you weren’t my everything.”

Your lips trembled. The weight of his words was too much for you to handle, at least today, in a first encounter where you haven’t even spent ten minutes together.

You felt awful. You felt shattered inside knowing that if you were in this situation, it was because of you.

“Well, Y/N, tell me…”

“No, no,” you quickly interrupted, grabbing his arm and guiding him to sit on the couch. Immediately after, you rushed to the kitchen to grab the drinks and snacks you spent all morning preparing. “You tell me first. Even though I’ve seen you on TV, I know you’re very private about your life, you know... You never share anything with the media, and well, you don’t even have social media so… How are you?”

He let out a short laugh as he picked up a bottle of water and a cheese-and-salmon toast.

“Well, to be honest, I’m doing much better than when you left me,” he revealed. It didn’t surprise you. After all, it was what you expected him to say. “You must have had your reasons for breaking up with me, and after all these years, I’m not going to ask why you did it. But I won’t lie to you… you left me shattered, Y/N.”

“Seb, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” he cut in softly, making a gentle gesture with his hand to calm you down. “Like I said, I’m not looking for an explanation or an apology. I just want you to know how I felt. Mentally… damn, Y/N, you broke me, and I completely lost myself, but at the same time, that’s what gave me the strength to win the championship in 2013,” he looked away from your eyes, shifting his gaze to the wall. Nervously, he started playing with his fingers. “All I could think about was you and that, maybe, there was a chance you were watching...”

“Of course I was, Seb,” you said softly, trying to hold back the tears and keep your composure. “No matter what happened, I never stopped watching or supporting you. I’ve always been, and will always be, your number one fan.”

He nodded, a bittersweet expression crossing his face.

“That year, everything I did was with the thought in mind that you were watching and, somehow, it helped me move forward. But… 2014 was when everything fell apart,” he admitted. “Red Bull wasn’t the same anymore, or at least, I didn’t feel the same way. I wasn’t winning, Daniel was beating me… I felt like I had lost everything, including you and, with time, I started to feel like I had no reason to stay with the team or maybe even in Formula 1. Until Ferrari offered me the contract.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Unlike any regular sports fan, you found out through Heike when you were out for a walk with Emily.

“When I was given the chance to sign with Ferrari in 2015... Y/N, really, that’s when I realized it wasn’t the end. That’s what I needed to move forward. I think I mentioned it to you on WhatsApp, but I don’t know if you remember…”

You swallowed hard. Of course, you remembered. He told you just before the news became public, before his mum told you, but you didn’t know how to answer him or if you really should do it. The demons in your head made you think it was a joke, even just an excuse to get closer to you. And you also felt that if he did sign with Ferrari, it would open a door you had closed because you weren’t ready to face the truth.

Just like you were doing now.

“I remember, yes,” you murmured, unable to look him in the eyes.

“When I didn’t get a reply from you I decided not to push it. That’s when I realized you didn’t want anything to do with me. Yet I kept sending you stuff as you might know…”

“That’s not it…” You could barely speak. You were as broken as he was. “I read the message, Seb, but… I burst into tears and didn’t have the strength to reply. I didn’t want to give you false hope when I wasn’t ready to… I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had,” you confessed. “I knew that if I spoke to you again, I’d hurt you again. And I’d hurt myself too. I couldn’t do that to you, Seb.”

He nodded, looking for some kind of affirmation in your gaze.

“At first, I felt really out of place on the team, you know? And I felt that way for a long time,” he revealed. “It was completely out of my comfort zone, and I felt like I’d never fit in. But little by little, Kimi, Maurizio, and the team made me feel like family. It’s strange to think about it now, but I can’t imagine being with any team other than Ferrari.” You agreed with him, from what you had seen on TV, it was clear he felt that way. “Fighting for the world title with them this year and having a real shot at beating Mercedes… I never thought I’d get to this point.”

You looked at him with a mix of admiration and nostalgia. This was the Seb you knew, the Seb with ambition, who always desired more and more. The Seb who never gave up.

The Seb who didn’t break down, even when he had every reason to.

“I’m so proud of you, Seb. I’ve always been, and I always will be. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course, Y/N,” he looked uncomfortable. Quite a bit, actually. “Well… enough about me. You know I don’t like talking about myself… What about you? What have you been up to all this time? My mom told me a bit, and I’ve seen you a few times, but…”

More than not knowing what to say, you sensed he didn’t want to intrude too much into your life.

You swallowed, trying not to get more nervous than you already were, because now, you supposed, was the moment to tell him about Emily.

“Well, not much has changed, really,” you started, unsure of what to say. “I’ve been in Heppenheim the whole time, except for a couple of trips to Berlin, but nothing unusual,” you tried to smile, but your mind kept circling around the fact that you had to tell him you had a daughter. “I’ve been working at the bar and writing music. To be honest, since we broke up I’ve had a lot more inspiration.”

And since I gave birth to Emily, you thought.

Seb didn’t say anything. You figured he understood. After all, he had thrown himself into his career to cope, while you had poured your emotions into writing songs about the story you shared to cope with grief.

“Now things have changed a bit,” you continued, trying to sound more upbeat to push away the painful memories. “Ever since Red went viral… I swear, I uploaded it without expecting anything, but the reaction…”

“The song is amazing, Y/N. Of course it went viral.”

“I’ve been offered a record deal,” you blurted out. “A few years ago, I met Niall Horan at the bar. You know, the guy who was on that band, One Direction…” Seb nodded, his eyes wide, encouraging you to continue. “He told me he was traveling to find some inspiration for his solo career, and I guess Heppenheim seemed like a good place for him to visit.”

“Wait, wait… a record deal?”

“Apparently, Niall told his label that I was the voice behind Red, and, well… Capital Records offered me a contract,” you explained. “They called me to have a meeting in London, which is why we couldn’t meet up last time…”

His face was calm, unreadable, though his mouth had curved into a big smile. He didn’t seem surprised, and you knew there was a strong chance Hanna had told him everything.

If that was true…

“I hope you accepted, Y/N.”

“Well… actually, I didn’t. I turned it down.”

His smile faded for a moment, and his expression became completely serious.

“You turned it down? Why? Sunshine, this is an opportunity…”

“Yes, I know it’s an amazing opportunity, but I can’t accept it. Not right now.”

You figured this was the moment you should tell him the real reason behind rejecting such a big deal, which included a tour if you sold a certain amount of CDs.

Sebastian kept staring at you, which only made you more nervous. You tried to gather your thoughts, searching for the right way to tell him you had a four-year-old daughter, but you couldn’t find the moment.

You couldn’t just drop it on him now, after all, this was your first real conversation in almost five years.

“Y/N, darling…”

“I can’t take the risk when the only thing I’ve managed is to get one song out of all the ones I sent to the label to go viral,” you half-lied. It was true that you didn’t want to talk about it yet, but you were also insecure about your music. “As much as I’d love to have an album, to fill stadiums and have people singing along to my songs, I can’t take that risk.”

“But, Y/N…”

“I’m not sure all the songs on the album would be successful, Seb.”

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re going to regret if you let this go....”

“No, Seb, I know exactly what I’m doing, really,” you shook your head, firm in your decision. “This is the best thing for me.”

And for Emily too, though you didn’t say that out loud.

Seb remained silent for longer than you would have liked, as if trying to process what you’d just told him. Then, he stood up, crouching down to your level, and taking your hands in his, he said:

“Alright. If you think your songs aren’t good enough, sing one of them to me.”

“What?” you asked, confused.

“If you turned down the record deal because you think your songs aren’t good enough for the world to hear, sing one of them to me.”

His tone, though calm, was direct and insistent.

“Seb… I can’t. I’m too embarrassed,” you laughed nervously.

“Come on, Y/N,” he said, gently rubbing your hands with his thumbs, just like he always did when your anxiety was at its worst. “It’s just me. I’m still the same after all these years.”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let it go until you gave in. It was Seb, and he always got what he wanted from you, even when you didn’t want to. In the end, you gave in, carefully standing up from the couch and heading towards the piano at the back of the room, gesturing for him to follow you.

You carefully slided the bench back, lifting the lid as you sat down. You positioned your hands, starting to play the first few chords to warm up, ensuring your memory flawlessly recalled the piece.

“This is song number 5, like your driver number... It's called loml.”

You continued playing, finally giving way to the song.

Who's gonna stop us from waltzing Back into rekindled flames? If we know the steps anyway We embroidered the memories Of the time I was away Stitching, ‘We were just kids, babe.’ I said, ‘I don't mind, it takes time.’ I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed I felt aglow like this Never before and never since.

Your voice shook as you began to sing, but you kept going, holding on to what your ex-boyfriend had told you about how he knew it was about him. As you settled into the song, you started feeling more comfortable, just like you did when you used to sing for Seb. Though you couldn’t look at him because you were absorbed in the key, your fingers delicately moving over it, you could feel his eyes on you.

You shit-talked me under the table Talking rings and talking cradles I wish I could un-recall How we almost had it all Dancing phantoms on the terrace Are they second-hand embarrassed That I can't get out of bed? Cause something counterfeit's dead.

Tears started falling from your eyes as you approached the final part of the song. Memories of your shared history flashed through your mind like a movie. Your vision was completely blurred, and you felt a tightness in your chest that was overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, almost impossible to keep singing. Somehow, though, you fought to hold it together, just as you did the day you said goodbye to the man now sitting beside you.

Oh, what a valiant roar What a bland goodbye The coward claimed he was a lion I'm combing through the braids of lies ‘I’ll never leave’... ‘Never mind.’ Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire Your arson matches your somber eyes And I'll still see it until I die You're the loss of my life.

Silence filled the room as you played the final notes. With your hands still resting on the keyboard, you looked at Seb. Once again, you didn’t know what to say to him, and you knew he didn't either. He was motionless, running a hand through his hair, probably trying to process what he just heard.

Y/Ni, this song... it’s about us, isn’t it?”

“It might be,” you admited, unable to lie to him, at least not about this.

He sighed. You could tell he was affected; you knew it the moment his tears began to form, just as yours continued to flow.

“You should rethink the contract,” he said firmly. “This song deserves to be heard by more than just me, your parents, and Hanna.”

“I can’t, Seb. I just can’t…”

“Can I sit next to you?”

You looked up and saw him gesturing to the bench. Confused, not sure what to do or say, you shifted a little, making space, and he sat beside you. Seb didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you, offering a comfort that felt wonderful but also caused you to crumble a bit more inside.

You surprised yourself by resting your head on his shoulder.

“Why are you so determined to convince yourself you don’t deserve this opportunity?” His tone was soft, just like the way he stroked your hair. “Do you really think you're not good enough to be a successful singer?”

“It’s not about being good enough, it’s that I’m not,” you whisper,ed your throat tightening. “I’m not a good person, Seb, and it’s only a matter of time before I screw up again and hurt someone, just like I hurt you.”

“Does this… have something to do with the second date in your YouTube channel username?”

You stood your head up, staring at him in confusion while trying not to panic.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your username,” he repeated, moving closer. “I figured out that the numbers represent two dates. I know for sure that one of them is June 15, 2006, the day we started dating, but the other one… I don’t know what January 12, 2014 means for you because we weren’t talking by then, but it must be important. And based on what you just said…”

Your eyes widened in shock. You were paralyzed, not knowing how to react.

How could he have noticed something so… insignificant? How had he connected the dots and figured out the dates you had in mind when you created that account?

You thought this would be the perfect moment to tell him that the second date marks the birth of your daughter, the daughter you had together; that on that day, while you were in labor, he was at the hospital waiting for some exams results and he was talking to your dad, who couldn’t contain his excitement about his granddaughter’s arrival and had to keep it a secret from him.

But you couldn’t. Not yet. You need to regain his trust first. You and Seb needed to rebuild the kind of relationship you had before you became the love of each other’s lives.

“Seb…” you trailed off, unable to continue. “I swear, on everything that matters to you, I’ll tell you, but right now… I just can’t.”

He looked at you for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. You knew him better than you knew yourself, and you knew he was persistent, that he needed an answer, but you also knew he was respectful and wouldn't push you.

“That’s okay,” he said finally, a bit resigned. “I understand, it’s fine. I’m not asking you to tell me now if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that when you are, I’ll be here to listen.”

You looked at him, grateful, and nodded without saying anything else.

You both sat at the piano bench for a while, in silence, listening only to the sound of your breathing and the melody of the song replaying in your mind, as intrusive thoughts overwhelmed you.

“If I waited almost 19 years of my life to be your boyfriend, I can wait a little longer, it doesn’t matter the time you need, for you to tell me,” Seb finally spoke, and his words broke you a little more than you already were. “Let’s be friends again, what do you think?” he offered, giving you a small smile. “Let’s take things slowly, like maybe we should have done when we first started dating. You know…”

“Slowly, no problem,” you repeated, smiling back at him.

You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at his words. Maybe you were not at the peak of your relationship, and maybe you’d never got back there, but at least you were working together to turn your story into something new.

“You know what, Y/N? I’ve always felt like our story wasn’t over. I don’t just mean that romantically, but in a broader sense,” he said quickly. “We have a whole lot of history, and now is when we’re going to start writing our second book.”

“I know, Seb. I’ve been thinking the same thing ever since I said goodbye to you,” you confess. “That day, goodbyes were bittersweet, but I knew it wasn’t the end and that I’d see you again.”

Before the year ends. I’m telling Seb Emily is her daughter before December 31st.

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softness-and-shattering · 8 months ago

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About the Mean Girls musical movie

I know Ive had conversations before about the cultural context stuff, that it seems like the message was not as effective as the first movie when the stuff its talking about, how girls are wrong whatever they do and everything is up for criticism and filming, and you have to pretend to be sweet and kind fairy princesses instead of being allowed to be human. And Id have to go back and find those posts to see what I do and dont agree with now. Because I just saw the movie. And honestly, I liked it. A lot of the visuals were really fun and interesting, which I think is impressive in a movie that mostly takes place inside of a high school. Regina more than once looks like she's in a music video, and that works because shes so hyped, its like she lives in a reality where not only do people break into song, but she's always in a music video. She really sells the character, self-assured and in charge and perfectly manipulative, and even when she's being vulnerable you're like, but is this another deception? She's more villainous in this version, and by the end maybe more human as well. (also the costuming is phenomenal, that Halloween angel dress?? The entire Halloween Someone Get Hurts sequence might be my favourite. )

Also Renee Rapp, who plays Regina, is just incredibly hot. She also played Regina on Broadway so it makes sense she has the character down. Thats not film critique thats my personal admiration. Its almost a little silly with the "oh no Regina is gaining weight she cant fit her clothes" because she looks amazing. [Edit: She's also obviously - I was gonna say she seems older than the other "teens" but actually she's 24, so Im having a moment of feeling old. And she's actually the same age as Auli'i Cravalho who is a lot younger in my mind because holy shit Moana came out EIGHT years ago?? Angourie Rice/Cady is 23, Jaquel Spivy/Damian is 26, Avantika/Karen is 19, thats more the age I thought they were but not the cast seems to be mostly 23-26. Its so weird when times moves the same for people while your image of them in your head stays the same. So Rapp isn't older she's just a bit bigger (neutral/positive). And she's been playing the role for a long time. And Im allowed to find her hot because she's a goddamn adult and so am I. This paragraph is not critique it is me blogging on my blog. Now Im annoyed at myself for Caveats of Fear but Im gonna stop dwelling on that now.]

On that note, though I originally liked the musical quite a lot, the significant fatphobia in it soured it for me. And Im happy to say in the musical movie, they changed or omitted those lines. I was waiting to cringe and they just sang something else. So that was great. I think the only fat character was Damian (why does that suddenly look like a vampire name?) - Jaquel Spivy - and he seemed comfy and cool, no self deprecating fat jokes or anything. Generally the lines/jokes that were uncomfortable or a bit bigoted have been changed. Though there isnt any disability rep, and theres a random character the burn book claims puts alcohol in her inhaler, like a 3 second joke.

And the big thing is that a lot of the meanness is shown in montages of vertical video and comments - no-brand tiktok obviously - and I think thats pretty realistic, and also in the original theme of not being mean to peoples faces but talking all kinds of shit behind their backs. And I think the montage format is effective in mimicking that endless scroll eyes glazing over stuck in the doom scroll/stuck in the spectacle. The music was good. I really liked how they overlaid the Spring Fling/thematic music with the math competition. If anything, Cady is not as good of a character, her Plastic switch is basically overnight, the scene with Aaron at the party is still kinda of awkward, she doesnt get as much room to breathe, while almost everyone else comes off really well. Heck even the candy cane/glen coco guy did well, I was actually suprised at how differently and yet excellently the actors acted their lines, compared both to the previous movie and the musical. Auli'i is fantastic, scary Janis is *scary*. And I simultaneously want to be her best friend. (It certainly helps that her art is augmented with embroidery and she's carrying embroidery hoops in multiple scenes. Fiber arts my loves.)

When I first saw a trailer my thoughts were "ugh we dont need another movie of this," but I think Ive changed my mind. Its similar enough and different enough that for me its a good adaptation. Also - I almost forgot to say - Janis gets a girlfriend for Spring Fling. Its not a plot point, we're just montaging getting ready and Janis goes to pick her up (in the lavender suit), and Damian is taking photos with two other sapphic couples. And he gets a crush/admirer who again, is just there to be there and doesnt interfere with the main story. I might change my mind again once its had time to settle in my thoughts, but initial impression is that its a fun movie I would watch again. Maybe we want the social commentary to be more incisive than it is, and in the end it is entertainment that needs to not be too boring to hold peoples shortening attention spans. (also neutral). Maybe thats wishing for it to be a movie that its not trying to be, and thats always a recipe for disappointment and also not great or fair analysis. What a fantastic line to end on*.

#mine #review #mean girls the musical the movie #whats the tag?#mean girls 2024 #that seems to be it.#Also the actress for Karen is Avantika I kinda thought that was a Matt Mercer invented name. I guess not.#I should also say it was the recent episode of This Ends At Prom that made me think it would be worth watching because they quite liked it #and their opinions might've influenced mine #I dont remember if there was anything in particular though #Other than Renee Rapp having played the part hundreds of times and therefore doing such a good job.#mm and Cady being a bit outshadowed by the others

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the-cult-of-russo · 2 years ago

Text

Do Me Damage (Part 1)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of drugs.

A/N: So, I wrote this a long ass time ago (before I disappeared) and came across it in my docs. There’s four parts to it and I’ll admit, its not quite finished or wrapped up fully, but I figured I’d give you guys something to read while I’m working on another Billy story. If people like this one, I’d be open to really finishing it off. I got really paranoid that I’d already posted this because it felt so familiar when reading it (of course it did, I fucking wrote it lmao) but I can’t find it on my blog so I’m gonna take a guess that I never posted it.

Name of this fic is from the song of the same name by Digital Daggers.

We made a cut without precision

And we stitched it up the best two children could

But we were ruled by indecision

And we pushed and pulled more than two people should

When you want me I am here

When you change your mind again and disappear

When it's settled and all is clear

Oh, you change your mind again and want me near

So do me damage or do me right

We could be the ones who see the other side

So do me damage or do me right

We could be the only lovers left alive

We made a pact and said forever

Then we blurred the lines so much, we lost our way

We were broken and stuck together (stuck together)

Then we tried to find the reasons we should stay

When you want me I am here

Then you change your mind again and disappear

So do me damage or do me right

We could be the ones who see the other side

So do me damage or do me right

We could be the only lovers left alive

When it's settled and all is clear

When you want me I am near

When you say that you're mine I come running everytime

—--------------------

You stepped out of your car, the moonlight casting an eerie glow on the streets of New York as you looked around. The money in your pocket seemed to be burning a hole right through you and you ignored it as you made your way down the street. Paranoia was something you lived with now. It was as normal to you as breathing. You'd learned to deal with it but it never went away. That's why you had parked your car a few blocks from where you needed to be. There was a bitter chill in the air and you wrapped your scarf tighter around you as your feet picked up their pace. As you turned a corner, you saw some kind of event going on outside of the Wythe Hotel. There were people in fancy clothes and others pulling up in cars as the valet helped them. You outwardly rolled your eyes as you kept walking. You despised these kinds of people. Living their high life and throwing their cash around. The world was your oyster if you had enough money. You'd admit to feeling jealous but it was mostly bitterness at how different your life had been. You felt like you'd been shit on since you came out of your mom's womb. These people were in there having the time of their life as they bragged about all of their shit and they were the same people that would walk past a homeless person while looking down on them or tell them to get a job. You wished the place would go up in flames.

Heaving a heavy sigh, your boots thumped softly against the pavement as you got ready to cross the street so you didn't have to walk through the sea of stupidly rich assholes. Your feet stopped in their tracks though as someone got out of a car. Your face paled, eyes wide and confused, looking like you'd seen a ghost. You felt like you had. It was Billy. But it couldn't be Billy because you'd been sure for the past ten years that Billy was dead. Yet standing in the middle of the sidewalk, you were more than sure it was him. He looked different, his hair short at the sides, longer and slicked back on the top. He was wearing a tailored dark grey suit with a black pea coat on top. Your feet refused to move as you stared on, feeling bewildered and you watched him help a pretty blonde in a red dress out of the car. The shock wore off as the realisation set in. Billy was alive. That meant he'd willingly left you behind without a word for all of these years. The betrayal you felt was scathing.

Your body was coiled and tense with anger, your fists clenched tight with your nails digging into your palms. You watched as he laughed and smiled with the girl on his arm as he made his way inside. It seemed like he finally got the life he always wanted. You just weren't included in it. Your top lip curled in a snarl before you crossed the street. You still had money to deliver and Tony wasn't known for being a patient guy. With each step, your body felt heavier as the hurt got more intense. All this time you'd presumed he'd died overseas and here he was, living it up as one of the rich assholes you both used to take the piss out of. You couldn't believe it, yet you knew what you'd seen. What you couldn't understand was why. It didn't make sense to you and you couldn't figure it out. Like you had a puzzle but none of the pieces fit together.

You finally got to the apartment building and jogged up the stairs before knocking on the miserable brown door. You could hear music coming from inside and a few seconds later the door swung open. Tony was an older man, his greying brown hair chin length and dishevelled as it always was.

"Y/N! You got the cash?" He asked jovially. You could see by the glazed-over look in his brown eyes that he was high. It wasn't exactly unusual.

"Yep," you stated simply before grabbing the large wad of cash out of your leather jacket. You handed it over to him and he chuckled as he took it. He didn't bother to count it, you'd been working for him for years now. It took a while but he trusted you.

"You wanna come in? I got some spare H," he asked with raised brows. Your face was unimpressed as it always was when he asked that question.

"Nah, I'm good," you smirked sardonically. He always asked and you always turned him down. You'd never used the stuff and you had no desire to.

"Alright, no need to be such a Debbie downer, jeez," he huffed. He disappeared inside his apartment before he appeared once more, handing you some clear bags with powder in them. You took them and stuffed them in your pocket. Once upon a time, you felt dirty for doing what you did, but now you'd become immune to the feeling. You didn't have many other opportunities in life and by this point, it was just easier to continue what you were doing than find something else. You didn't like it though. You thought frequently of getting out of the business and trying to do something legit. Something that didn't make you feel guilty or wrong. What was the point though? No qualifications, no experience, no anything. You'd end up with a shitty-paying job like you did when you got out of the group home. Barely make enough to live. It was just easier this way. Getting out and doing something worthwhile was just a pipedream for now.

When you were 18 and left the group home, Billy was serving his first term in the Marines. Alone, you'd gotten a job at a diner and got a small crappy apartment for the both of you. That was the plan, he'd have a home to come back to. But after struggling at the job and Billy not coming back and you thinking he was dead, you found yourself turning to this way of life instead. Tony had been a regular at the diner and you'd struck up an odd sort of friendship or camaraderie with him. After hearing you complain about how little you got paid and how much you were struggling, he offered you a job. You’d been conflicted but after being kicked out for not being able to pay the rent on the shitty apartment and then losing your job due to cutbacks, you didn't feel like you had much choice. And the money was much better. You'd been able to get yourself a nicer apartment, even if it was still small and not in the best part of town. You'd also been able to save up some money in case you needed it. You wondered if one day you'd have enough that you could get out of the game and pursue something different. You already had an idea of what you might want to do.

After saying goodbye to Tony, you left to go home. You couldn't help but think back to Billy. It was hard enough these past ten years thinking he'd died overseas and never seeing him again. But the harsh realisation that he'd chosen to walk away with no goodbye or explanation hurt way more. You'd been best friends. He'd been family. He just never came back and it was a painful and raw pill to swallow for you. You weren't sure you'd ever be able to understand it. You wanted to text Leanna and tell her what had happened. You'd met her at the job at the diner, both working together and becoming best friends. After also being laid off, she also turned to working for Tony. She only quit last year after becoming pregnant but you were still best friends. You'd told her how you'd been thinking of getting out of the game too and she'd introduced you to a friend of hers that worked in journalism, knowing you were interested in it. She knew about Billy and everything that happened but you weren't sure you were ready to tell her Billy wasn't dead after all. That he'd just walked away and left you behind to go and live his life.

It hurt immensely and you were confused as all hell about it. But you had no choice but to accept it and move on. He clearly thought you weren't good enough to include in his life. Part of you wondered if he'd ever really cared. There was no point dwelling on it now. Billy didn't want you in his life and was doing just fine without you. He could go fuck himself and choke on all of his money. You didn't need him anyway.

----

One month later

Billy stepped out of the bar into the crisp cold autumn air, feeling relaxed after a good night. He'd brought a group of his guys from Anvil after a job well done the day before as a treat. He hadn't actually been to The Moonlight Bar before but one of the guys swore it was a great place so he thought he'd try it out. He was pleasantly surprised by how upscale it was. He'd asked Frank if he wanted to come but of course, he was too busy with Karen to say yes. Billy would be disappointed with his best friend if he didn't like Karen so much and if he wasn't so happy for them. Billy and the guys had been drinking and just having a good time, but it was getting late now and he had an early morning so he decided to head home. He hadn't brought his car since he knew he'd be drinking so he planned on getting a cab home. He was standing outside of the bar, getting his cell out of his pocket to call a cab when he glanced over to the side. There was a man standing there talking in hushed tones to what he presumed was a woman but she was facing the other way. He looked on in disdain as the man gave her money and she gave him a plastic baggie of something in response. The man walked away hurriedly and his dark orbs stayed on the girl as she counted the money then she turned around. He almost choked on the air he was breathing as he saw you. It felt like someone poured ice-cold water over him, his entire body going rigid as he watched you stuff the money into your pocket. He felt like he was watching some kind of train wreck, unable to move or say anything as he just stared at you, a pain in his chest getting worse by the second.

It was you. Sure it had been years, many goddamn years, but it was you. A barrage of memories hit him like a freight train but they were accompanied by guilt and pain after seeing what you were doing with your life. It was only once you started to make your way over to a beat-up car parked on the sidewalk that his shocked stupor ended and before he knew what he was doing, his legs were taking long strides towards you.

"Y/N!" He called out, making your head whip around. If he had any doubts it was you before, they were gone now. You looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights and he was sure he was sporting the same look as he just blinked at you in shock.

"Billy?" You asked, bewildered. Your voice trembled a little as you gaped at him.

"You… you're a drug dealer now?" He hadn't meant to say those words, let alone sound so hostile. But the anger had built up from watching you sell drugs, knowing your past and his own. This was the last thing he expected you to be doing. His little Bunny wasn't supposed to be selling drugs. She wasn't supposed to be living a life of crime. This wasn't the life he'd ever wanted for her. For you.

The shock on your face got worse and he winced when you looked like he'd physically hit you with his words.

"Y/N…" he started sheepishly.

"Fuck you, Billy! I haven't seen you in what? Ten years? And this is what I get?" You asked angrily. He didn't miss how your eyes seemed to glisten and his chest constricted painfully at not only the thought of upsetting you but also your words. He'd missed you more than he could verbalise but he also knew he hadn't really left things well.

"I didn't… I'm sorry, alright? It was just a shock," he muttered lamely. You scoffed as you glared at him and all he could do was take you in. Despite your womanly curves now and the fact you'd aged, you were still the same girl he used to know. Sporting the same look you used to wear when he'd playfully steal your stupid stuffed bunny rabbit. The one that was in his closet and had been with him overseas on every goddamn tour he did over there.

"It's nice to know you're alive by the way. I mean it's not like I spent almost ten years thinking you'd died in the Marines or anything," you said coldly. He winced again. Cutting you off the way he did had been harsh, he knew that. He had his reasons and he didn't think you'd want to hear them. But he honestly hadn't expected you to think he might have been dead. But then again he wasn't sure what he expected. The last time he saw you, he was leaving for the Marines and he'd never contacted you again. He'd been 18 and you'd been 17. You still had a year left in the group home and you'd been devastated when he told you he was joining the Marines. But once he'd convinced you, you'd been nothing but supportive. You talked about how you'd have your own place by the time he got back from his first tour and that he could live with you. That had been the plan until it wasn't.

"I… I'm…" he couldn't get his damn mouth to work now he was here facing you. All the bravado and cockiness he'd come to personify had completely abandoned him.

"You're what? Sorry? I doubt that very much. Why are you even here, Billy?" You asked harshly. He swallowed thickly, his shoulder rolling as he glanced to the entrance and then back to you.

"I came here with a few of my guys. I didn't expect to see you," he admitted, knowing it might make matters even worse.

"Right. Anvil, Mr Big CEO," you said snidely, face like thunder as you crossed your arms over your chest. After his perplexed look, you chuckled mirthlessly.

"I spent years thinking you'd died over there. Not a single word from you, not even a fucking letter back. You never came back for me like you promised. And then a month ago… a month ago I see you. Getting out your fancy Rolls Royce with a tall blonde on your arm. I didn't think it was you at first, I mean how could it be, you were dead? Yet it was," you muttered bitterly.

He frowned, his dark eyes sad and guilty as he stared at you.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked softly.

"That's a joke, right?" You scoffed incredulously.

"Why the fuck would I? You never came back, Billy! You just… you just left me. Just like everyone else. You left me and got the life you always wanted except I wasn't part of it anymore. But I guess that was your plan after all," you glared.

"That was never the plan," he said vehemently, taking a step closer to you. When you took a step back he felt like someone punched a hole right through his chest. But he knew this was all his fault. He'd abandoned you just like your parents and the foster parents at the group home. He was just another person to let you down and now here you were, selling the poison that ruined your life to start with, just to get by. He felt sick.

"You know what? I don't care. I spent far too long hurting over you. Over thinking you'd died and then hurting when I realised you'd left me by choice. I'm not interested. Go back to your high and mighty life, Mr Russo," you sneered before you forcefully yanked your car door open. He was too hurt and shocked to do anything about it and all he could do was watch with a pain in his chest as you drove away. He knew you'd never care about his feeble excuses for why he did what he did and after seeing you, he couldn't believe he'd ever made that choice to begin with. He'd buried you and all the memories of you deep in his mind and that's how he'd been able to get by. But every night he'd think of you, where you'd ended up. Now all he could see was you dealing and the betrayal in your eyes. He didn't know how to fix it. He didn't think he could.

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@ariesbutalibra

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

#billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo imagine

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