#seems like I only come back to this blog to post guys in dresses and I’m okay with that

[kandyscorner]

Do I Know You? Part 24

Synopsis: You meet Selina Kyle, Bruce Wayne, and Dick Grayson (for a second time?)

Note: I know some of you guys wanted drama with Bruce but I was genuinely, like, not mentally prepared to write about him, so his time is very short and of course Selina is there (I am a BatCat supporter on the side). I don’t think y’all are prepared for what happens with Dick (I hope I didn’t hype it to much.) please enjoy!!

(Secondary Note: for those not aware. I am moving blogs. All older chapters of Do I Know You? will stay on @fanfics-i-find-here, any new chapters will be posted on @kandyscorner.)

Masterlist

Ten minutes and an empty mimosa glass get you nowhere. Your neck was starting to ache more from the dress, and you couldn’t find anyone you knew. In an effort to continue your search for someone and get some space from the higher than thou crowd, you figure you’d check the manor.

You find the door you came out through and begin your search, which isn’t much of a search and more you walking through the hallways of the manor at random. You still feel dizzy and warm, but the space from others soothes your mind a little. As you walk, you come across a lineup of family portraits in a smaller hallway, one that doesn’t seem to get much traffic.

You follow the photos and realize the ones you were greeted with were the most recent, so you speed up to move to the beginning. You pause at what you think is the start and stare. It’s an older portrait, but the family in it is one you recognize from your brief research on Bruce Wayne. Thomas and Martha Wayne stare at you with warm smiles, their hands resting on the shoulders of a young boy, who looks like a pale Damian with a wide grin, a young Bruce, you can only assume.

The next portrait is sadder. Thomas and Martha are missing, and Bruce is just a bit older. An older gentleman, one you assume is Alfred, stands with the boy. You feel the comfort the man is trying to ooze to the young teen with the sad, forced smile.

Next is Bruce as an adult with Alfred. Your lip quirks as you stare at the adult version of Bruce Wayne. You wonder if Jason realizes how much he looks like his adoptive father. The man seems stoic, no forced smile, but the way he stands with Alfred shows comfort between the two of them.

There’s another young boy in the next one. Black hair and blue eyes. He looks like he's pouting, like he would rather be anywhere else. You pause to try and remember the order of the Wayne kids. If you remember correctly this should Dick Grayson. The poor boy's parents had died in an accident, and he became a ward of the state. You could understand growing up in a traveling circus, your parents dying, and suddenly being stuck in one city. You’d be pouting too.

He's older in the next one, much more smiley. He’s handsome, too, you think. He could be a model. He’s missing in the photo after that, but he’s been replaced by another smiling boy with the widest grin you have ever seen. He has back hair and blue eyes like Dick Grayson but his hair is curly and just bit wild, two little curls framing his forehead. You're put off by how small the boy is, especially compared to the bulk of Bruce Wayne.

You're surprised by the next portrait. Instead of an older version of the curly haired boy, your meet a younger version of Tim and Dick is back. There's an odd solemnness to the photo, like an overbearing sadness to everyone in the photo. You move backwards and almost trip over yourself to look at the previous photo.

You stare at the curly-haired boy as your mind slowly does the math. Jason? You stare even longer. This young version of Jason seemed so… light and free. The Jason you knew always seemed like he was carrying a burden, like the world had been coarse and rough to him, but he still chose to shoulder its problems anyway.

You wonder what happened, where he went to not be in the next family photo. You wonder what happened to his eyes, all carefree and unmistakably blue. Jason's eyes were tired and green more often than blue. There’s not an ounce of green in his eyes in the photo.

“I believe you are in the wrong place.” You flinch at the strict woman's voice. You turn your head to find a gorgeous, tan woman. Tall and lithe with a pixie cut of brown hair. She wore a black dress that had to have been made for her. Her eyes are sharp and scrutinizing, and you feel like you need to explain every bad thing you’ve ever done to her.

“Sorry,” you rush out as you turn the rest of your body to blink at her. Her hard features relax once she sees your face, and a smirk makes it to her face.

“Oh, it's just a lost little kitten,” she coos at you and takes a few steps to stand in front of you.

“Sorry?” you say, more confused than apologetic. Did she just call you a kitten?

“There’s no need for that, dear. I’m Selina. Selina Kyle. I’m Bruce’s,” She offers her hand, and you take it. She wraps her other hand over the top of yours, “and your Jason’s, correct?”

Your mind is still trying to catch up with the conversation. You miss her tone and assume she means plus one for the event.

“Yes,” you nod.

“Poor boy has been out of his mind searching for you, kitten.” She pulls you into her, arm around your shoulder, and starts maneuvering you back towards the exit, “We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

****

Like many people in Jason’s life, Selina is surprisingly strong, easily pushing and pulling you where she pleases. She speaks to you quietly like she’s gossiping, but you learn very quickly that Selina's idea of gossip is how expensive someone's jewelry is and whether or not it’s fake.

It's not long before two men come into view, one looking far more stressed than necessary and the other trying to placate him. It takes until you're much closer for you to tell the difference between them. Jason is the stressed one, which, honestly, you shouldn’t be surprised about. The other is Bruce Wayne himself. Up close to them together, you're startled by how much alike they look. They have the same nose, same angular jaw.  They both have that knot between their brows that seems like permanent worry. Only Bruce Wayne has blue eyes and his hair is slowly streaking with gray hairs. Selina brings you up to them.

“Look at this stray I found wandering the manor.” She playfully pinches your cheek and you fluster easily, “Such a sweet thing,” she adds before stepping away from you and into the arms of  Bruce Wayne.

“-okay?” You're caught off guard by the hand on the side of your neck, and it takes a moment of you staring at Jason’s lips to catch up.

“Yea, yea, I’m okay,” You nod, blinking at him. Your ever-constant urge to kiss him is back, and it’s nearly doubled. You feel very happy to be in his bubble again.

 “I missed you.” You add, and he smiles so sweetly at you.

“Where’d you run off to, huh?” You can’t help but smile at his soft words.

“Your family. I met a cow.” Is what you answer because that’s where you went first.

“Damian took you to meet his cow?” Your eyes slide over Bruce.

“Batcow.” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, which, in hindsight, was unnecessary, but your head was starting to feel a little fuzzy, “And yes. You have a very nice barn Mr. Wayne.”

He smiles at you, and you decide you understand why all those people on the internet were into Brucie Wayne, if his dazzling smile had anything to do with it.

“Thank you, and you can just call me Bruce, and I see you’ve met Selina already. She’s my girlfriend.”

Jason mumbles in your ear something along the lines of “right now,” but you pay no mind to it. You're far more distracted by the knowing smile Selina sends you. You understand her phrasing in the house. It was a trap. I’m Bruce’s and you're Jason’s? and you had agreed.

“Oh,” You feel a little frozen as you're overcome with the realization that Jason’s entire family and slightly extended seriously think you two are dating. Which is surprising because you didn’t learn anything about any of them from Jason, aside from Damian and Alfred. Had Jason talked to them about you?

You spare a glance at Jason. His features are hard set, a tenseness in his shoulders that nearly makes you worry if not for the way his hand, which had been holding your face, settled on your mid back, his thumb barely skimming the exposed skin between your shoulder blades.

You wish he would talk to you. He’s done something, said something that makes his family think the way they do, but now is not the time for that conversation. You turn and smile at Bruce and Selina.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you pause, a hesitation before you admit something, “I'll admit to doing some research on you…Bruce.” It feels awkward using his name. “It's very rare to find a billionaire so willing to help. Um, I'm a waitress at Jackie’s coffee house right on the edge of the narrows. She keeps it open thanks to your old town business loans. Most people would say having a loan with no interest is bad for business, but I can appreciate what you're doing for Gotham.”

Jason’s hand pauses on your back, and you can see the curious flicker in his eye. Bruce just smiles at you.

“I met Jackie, a very sweet woman with a bout of bad luck. It's fairly common in Gotham, but I have as much money to spare as possible, and if it means helping Gothamites, then that’s what I want to do.” You don’t hear any childish pride in the sentence like you would expect, but you hear Jason scoff under his breath at Bruce’s words anyway, “Although I have to say when people research me, it's usually not out of the goodness of their hearts.” He continues. Selina giggles like she knows something, you’re starting to think that’s her default attitude.

Bruce seems intent on continuing the conversation, but another man interjects himself into the conversation. Both Selina and Bruce roll their eyes, but apparently the man is too stuck up to notice. Bruce shoots you an apologetic look and quickly shakes your hand before he’s dragged away. Selina is slow to follow him.

“He’s happy you’re here, kitten, and that you’ve brought this one with you,” Selina says as she pats Jason on the arm, “We would like to see him just a bit more, yeah?” The last line feels more directed at Jason. It has no teasing to it, a statement said in utmost honesty. Jason flounders a bit, not meeting her eye.

“Thanks, Selina,” He mumbles, and she flashes you both a smile before she follows after Bruce, stealing a glass off of a tray with a slickness that rivals even Jason’s exchanging of glasses.

Jason turns on you, hand moving from your back to your shoulder. He stares you down with a sternness that makes you smile at him. He rolls his eyes at you.

“Seriously, where’d you go, honey? I came back to where I left you, and you were gone.”

“Well,” you start, “I was with Duke and Steph and then Cass pulled her away and it was just me and Duke and then Damian shooed him and Damian took me to see Jerry. I thought Jerry was another dog like Titus. I was wrong, Jerry is a turkey. Then I meet Batcow, she’s sweet. Then we came back here.” You keep out the conversations you had with both siblings because you don’t want him to know how you’ve apparently given up on vetoing the rumors about you two dating.

“I started looking for you, but then realized how much my dress was hurting my neck, so I went looking for the girls, but I had no success with that either, so then I figured ‘maybe they went inside’, so then I went inside, but I didn’t find anyone. I did find a hall of family portraits. I think I found you. Did you used to have curly?” You finally pause, waiting. You had watched Jason through your rant. He had only a teasing grin, but at the mention of the portraits, it drops.

“Yeah, yeah, I used to have curly hair.” He says only loud enough for you to hear. You want to ask about the melancholy of the next photo, the one he’s missing from, but you continue with your story instead.

“You were cute, like a chipmunk,” his mouth opens like he’s going to defend himself but you keep going, “and then Silena found me and I thought I was big trouble but then she called me kitten which I thought was really weird but you didn’t seem to surprised when she used it just now so maybe its just a her thing then she brought me here and now your all caught up on our activities.” You finally stop taking a breath. You feel warm, still dizzy, but you don’t mind so much now that you can stare at Jason. His hand moves from your shoulder to massage your neck around the halter tie. You sigh at his touch, eyes sliding shut for a moment.

“I did not look like a chipmunk,” he mumbles, and as you open your eyes, you become aware of how close Jason is. You can see the swirl of green in his eyes, feel his breath on your face.

“How can I help with your dress?” he asks, and you blink at him. Take it off, your mind offers. You bite your tongue to stop the words.

“Will you help me with the straps? I can't do them myself,” you ask quietly, hoping your face doesn’t give away your thoughts.

“You know I’ll help you with anything, sweetheart.”

****

Jason led you away from the crowd into a more wooded area with a little pocket of space for some privacy. You explained to him how the dress worked, the four ribbons that were straps, where the other two were tucked away, and how you wanted them tied. He stood behind you and quietly went to work untying the knot to the halter.

He was warm, you could feel it radiating off him. You had to bite down the urge not to shiver as he would lean in close to look at the knot as he undid it. If he leaned in more, he could kiss your bare skin if he wanted to. You wanted him to.

You shift on your feet, the heat between your legs returning easily now that you were alone with Jason again and vulnerably so. His hand pauses to press against your ribs under your arm. If his hand slid forward, he could cop a feel with no problem.

“Stop squirming,” he murmurs in your ear, tone demanding, and it makes your stomach flutter. You want to move just to see what he would do. You stop moving, though, here not the right time nor the right place. His hand leaves your side to return to untying. The ribbon straps fall forward.

Instinctively, your hands come up to hold the top of the dress, pressing your hands to your chest. You know it won't fall, the dress is designed both to have straps and not to have straps. But you're in “the middle of the woods” with Jason, away from everyone else. If someone happened upon you, you didn’t want the dress to suddenly decide it wasn’t built to be strapless and end up flashing someone. Or heaven forbid, confirm that you and Jason are dating and tried to have a sexual rendezvous in the woods.

You feel the ghost of Jason’s finger skim down one shoulder blade before it dips into the back of the dress to tug out the hidden ribbon of fabric. Your breath catches as he repeats the process on the other side, hand not skimming so much as dragging across your skin down into the back of the dress. You feel warm, very warm, and you lean back into his touch. You must have moved more than you thought because Jason’s hands grab onto your waist, pushing you forward slightly.

“What’d I say, sugar? Hmm?” he says, his voice low and steady, the breath of it makes the hairs on your neck stand on end. You think he’s created a Pavlov effect on you when he uses the pet name sugar with that tone of voice.  You literally stop breathing for a moment, resisting every urge in your body demanding that you step back and press yourself against him. It takes much more energy than you expect.

“Sorry,” you murmur as your fingers twiddle with the top hem of the dress. You keep your gaze ducked, staring hard at the grass as he shifts.

“It's okay, just hold still, yeah? Let me help,” Jason says as he steps to stand halfway beside you, halfway behind you. His hand comes into your eyesight as he lifts the ribbon from your front and brings it to your shoulder, meeting the back ribbon there. His words calm you, a little less low and more concentrated. You can feel him staring into your cheek, but you keep your eyes trained on the grass.

“Bows, right, sweetheart?” he asks, hands hovering over the skin on your shoulder. You finally turn your head to look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Please,” you say quietly with a nod, “make them pretty too.” He drops his eyes to the ribbons and focuses in, periodically glancing at your face.

He ties and unties like he can't decide if it was done right. As he unties it again, he pauses to press the back of his hand to your cheek. It has you blinking in confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just look hot.” He drops his hand and starts to tie again. You giggle at his words.

“Aw, thanks, handsome.” His hands stop for a moment.

 “That’s not-” He pauses, head turning to the trees. He doesn’t say anything else as he watches. You wonder if he saw something or heard something with the way his eyes seem to search.

“Am I interrupting something?” a voice calls out. You flinch. Hard. You take a startled step back, right into Jason, your shoulder to his chest. You nearly trip over yourself with the movement. If Jason’s chest hadn’t steadied you, then his hand certainly would have, suddenly teleporting from your shoulder to your waist. His grip there tighter than before.

The voice that spoke has a certain joyful cadence to it, like the man is witnessing the funniest comedy show he’s ever seen. It sounds familiar. The voice probably wouldn’t have drawn you to it if it weren't for the words spoken, ones you’ve heard before. The man in question finally pops out of the woods with an apologetic smile that you know you’ve seen before.

“Dick,” Jason says gruffly, hand moving from the side of your waist forward, a gentle press against your tummy has you pressed more tightly against his chest. Your mind lags with everything happening.

“Jason,” you scold quietly, finding his name-calling unnecessary. Your brain slowly catches up as you remember that Jason has a brother named Dick. You stare at the man, the image of him slowly lining up with the photo you had seen inside.

“It’s okay. He’s just saying my name,” Dick waves off what your almost positive Jason was saying as an insult. He gives you both a disarming smile and you can only imagine what it looks like he just stumbled upon.

You and Jason, away from everyone else. You, flushed, according to Jason. The top of your dress in shambles, one shoulder entirely bare, the other covered by Jason’s hand holding your straps up. That and the way Jason holds you against him. This can’t be a good look.

“Jason’s helping fix my dress.” You rush out quickly. Dick takes a step forward and Jason’s hand tightens against your stomache. Its almost possessive the way he holds you, like he was trying to tell Dick that you were Jason’s. You quietly file in your mind that kind of like it.

Dick just continues to smile, “Take it easy, Little Wing.”

Your eyes widen and you suddenly feel like you’ve been hit in the chest. Despite how fuzzy your head feels, your mind connects the dots on why he seems familiar, and it has nothing to do with the photo in the manor. The phrasing of words at first had stuck out to you, but now, you understood.

 Little Wing. You had only heard the name once before and it was from Nightwing. Your eyes track over Dick Grayson as he stands there. The comparison is easy. He’s already wearing a black button-up with an electric blue tie. Maybe he wasn’t trying to hide it. You can see it now as you met his eyes, blue eyes that were previously covered by a black and white mask at your last meeting.

Dick Grayson was Nightwing. Jason’s brother was Nightwing. You wonder if he knows that his brother is a crime-fighting vigilante. You don’t even know what to do with the information. Should you tell Jason? What if Dick is keeping it a secret on purpose? You push the thought aside, a problem for later, as Dick finally comes to stand in front of you.

He says your name with the familiarity of people who have already met, which you guess you had just not like this. You blink at him in disbelief.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Dick Grayson.” He offers his hand, and you take it limply, still staring at him, nodding slowly. His eyes leave yours to look at Jason's hand on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong with your dress?” he asks you, but you're still taking in his face. His facial structure was so obviously Nightwing, you wonder why more people don’t know. After a beat of silence, Jason answers for you.

“Her straps were hurting her neck. I’m just tying them into bows on her shoulders.” His hand leaves your shoulder to show Dick his handiwork.

“That’s a shitty bow,” Dick tells him. Jason’s hand on your stomach moves again as he moves back a little, no longer pressing you against him. It snaps you out of your stare, your head turning to stare at the trees instead, trying to steady the panic you have from your newfound information.

“Yeah, and I’m sure you could do so much better, dickhead.” You don’t have it in you to scold Jason for the name-calling. His tone is challenging, and you flinch again at the feel feel of unfamiliar fingers on your shoulder. It has your head swiveling quickly and Dick pulls his hands back.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked. Is it okay if I help?” He asks and you stare for a moment too long. Jason huffs behind you, and you finally answer.

“Yeah, sure.” You say with a shrug because you’re still freaking out. It doesn’t take long, much less time than it took Jason, for Dick to have both of your straps tied up into pretty bows. You admire them with surprise.

“Thank you. They look nice.” You murmur as Dick steps out of your bubble. Your hand absentmindedly swings behind you, searching for Jason. He had stepped away from you as Dick had worked but you missed his warmth, and you need some comfort to cool your rapid thinking mind.

“Jason?” you ask as you turn your head, “Where’d you go?”

You find him a few steps away from you, out of reach, and doing what you can only describe as pouting, hard features and arms crossed in front of him. You have to shake your head to keep your focus away from how the material of his shirt stretches over his muscles. His face softens a hair when he looks at you, certainly not as much as it usually would.

“Just giving you space.” He says, and it has an anxious feeling crawling up your back. He sounds mad but you can’t figure out if it’s with you or with Dick, or with something else.

“Oh, but I want you in my space.” The words slip out of your mouth without much thought of who you're in company with. You just don’t want Jason to be angry with you. He glances between you and Dick before his gruff look melts. He easily slides back into your bubble.

“I’ll leave two alone,” Dick says, and you turn to find smiling at you two, something akin to loving pride on his features, “and Stephs looking for you. That’s the reason I came out here looking.” He waves as he steps back into the trees, heading for the brunch. You watch him go, still a little distraught about the Nightwing thing but choosing to ignore it.

With Dick gone, you turn on Jason. Your hands make their way to hold his face, some leftover upset still there. He seems surprised by your sudden cradling, most likely because you missed, hands landing on his neck before crawling up to his face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, voice bubbling in worry. You can feel the tears in your throat. If Jason was upset with you, you don’t know what you’ll do. Jason mimics you, his hands coming to hold your face.

“Nothing's wrong, sweetheart. Why do you sound like you're gonna cry?” he gently swipes on the skin of your cheek, and you sniffle.

“I thought you were mad at me,” you pout.

Jason laughs under his breath, “Mad at you, honey? I could never. If anything, I was mad at Dick.”

“Why? Do you not like the bows?” Your head drops to look at the bows unsuccessfully because Jason’s hand and wrists were in the way. You end up pressing your nose to his wrist instead.

“No, I like ‘em,” his hand leaves your face to fluff up the bow you were trying to look at, “You were just staring at Dick a lot.”

You want to explain to him the reason you were staring wasn’t because you were into dick (he was very handsome, model worthy but that’s not the point). You were staring because you just discovered that his older brother is a vigilante who runs around in black and blue spandex. You couldn’t just say that to Jason, though. What if he didn’t know? He was already on rough terms with his family, you’re sure a lie like that would cause problems, and you already made a deal with Damian to make sure Jason spent more time with his family.

“I’m sorry,” you say instead

“Don’t be sorry. I was just jealous, it's stupid.” He tries to shrug off your apology, his hands leaving you. Your own hands on his face tighten, smooshing his cheeks and lips.

“You have no reason to be jealous. I’d rather stare at you than anyone else.” You say as earnestly as possible. You can feel his face shifting under your hands, trying to smile.

“Okay, Sweetheart,” his words come out weird thanks to his smooshed lips and you give him a cheeky smile. He wraps his hands around your wrists and tugs his face from your hold, “Stop crushing my face, I get it, you like me.” He teases.

“Duh,” you slide your hands into his and start pulling him, “Let’s rejoin the party.” Jason lets you pull him with mild resistance. He has a fond smile and its only when you get to the edge of the clearing that he’s pulling you back to him.

“The brunch is that way, sweetheart.” He points at the opposite side of the clearing and his arm wraps around your shoulder to guide you the correct way. “Are you feeling okay?”

You turn your head to smile brightly at him, “I’m great now that I know your not mad at me.”

“If you say so,” he says, pressing a pleasant kiss to your temple.

Additional note: So that reveal? Crazy stuff. I have been waiting to write the scene since the pollen chapter. Although to be far, prior to the pollen fic, the scene was supposed to be almost a little more steamy (who wouldn’t want to be sandwiched between Dick Grayson and Jason Todd) but then I wrote the pollen chapter and I was like ‘oh you know what would cause even more drama’ and now we’re here. Also she’s stupid, I’m sure you noticed she missed some important details when comparing that night to the current event (Namely WHO Dick called little wing). I promise it will be worth it y'all. I love you guys for reading and commenting. Let me know any thoughts!

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant, @alma-ru3, @13fresh, @anuttellaa, @nekotaetae, @redsakura101, @sleepy-head1

[moonriseoverminecraft]

This was inspired by a tweet about Doc looking good in a dress and loving pink,,, I got distracted and put him in a Mettaton cosplay

[shithowdy]

this is your periodic reminder that for all the artifacts and errors and "tells" one could possibly list, the only reliable way to actually determine if an image is ai generated is to investigate the source. it is becoming increasingly common for "fake classical paintings" to circulate around curative aesthetic blogs, and everyone should be using this as an opportunity to not only exercise their investigative skills but also appreciate art more in general. you're all checking out the artists you reblog, right? 🫣

so what are some signs to look for? let's use this very good example.

what a lovely late-impressionist piece blended with evocative leyendecker-esque themes! why haven't you ever heard of this artist before? surely tumblr would be all over an artist like this. who is justin brown?

your two options from here are to do a search for the name, or a reverse image search. i prefer reverse image searching, particularly when it comes to a common name like "justin brown". so what does that net?

Immediately, without looking at any text, something is wrong: it barely exists. an actual historical piece would turn up numerous results from websites individually discussing the piece, but no such discussions are taking place. Looking at the text, though, does show the source-- and at least in this case, the creator was honest about their medium.

But let's also look at the "exact matches", in case a source doesn't make itself apparent in the initial sidebar results like this.

This section will often tell you post dates of images, and here it can be seen that the very first iteration of the image was posted 15 days ago. It did not exist online prior to that.

Seeing how long an unsourced image has been floating around is a skill applicable to more than just generative images! See a cool image of an artifact or other intriguing item with a vivid caption? Reverse search it! If all the results are paired with that caption and only go back a few months, you might just have viral facebook spam.

Sometimes generative creators are dishonest about their medium and do not tag it like in the example, so that's when establishing "jpeg provenance" becomes important. While it can be a little trickier to determine if someone is using generative images and not admitting to it if they aren't trying to pass it off as a classic, something to consider is the age of their account and the frequency with which they post. Here are some account red flags:

-Did they only start posting art after 2022, or if they did before, did their style/skill level WILDLY change? Not gradual improvement-- I'm talking amateur graphite portraits straight into complex digital renders. Everyone starts somewhere, newness is not a red flag alone; it's newness combined with existing in a vacuum away from any community.

-Do they post fully-finished paintings several times a week? -Do many of these paintings seem iterative of a similar theme or subject matter ("three well-dressed young men face each other under shade and dappled sunlight")?

-Does their style change in inconsistent ways? An artist that can swap between painting like Drew Struzan and Hokusai should be pretty well known, right? Why is no one hyping this guy?!

-Do they have social media besides the source instagram? If so, what are they posting about? Are there any WIPs? Doodles? Interactions with other artists? Gallery dates? 3am self-doubt posts? Or is it all self-promo? Crypto? Seemingly nothing art-related at all for someone pushing out 3 weekly paintings?

Basically, if it's important to you to omit this stuff when you curate, please don't just smash reblog if the source doesn't seem to be the OP themselves. Seeking out sources was important even before this became an issue, now it is more than ever.

peace n love

[vettelsvee]

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

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

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."

[eggiesins]

THE FUCKING DOUGHNUTS FJDUFJDDUJS. This blog is the gift that keeps on giving. Since I'm a bit of a softy at heart, could you do some foreplay or aftercare headcanons with the bachelors too?

Got two related asks for this one, so I decided to mash them together in one monstrous post. Thank you guys for submitting your requests! I only have one to go after this before I get them all.

A few disclaimers before we get into the post:

While I understand what aftercare is, I'm not super well-versed in it (or a lot of BDSM topics). My husband and I usually fist bump about it & get ourselves a snack. If I got some things wonky or weird, forgive me

I do understand the current climate surrounding booktok and the whole "good girl" thing, but for me personally, it makes my skin crawl so I didn't delve too far into that kind of dynamic, apologies. If you enjoy it, more power to you because the feminism is in the freedom to express that openly

Mostly GN Builder, but there are some bits that are a bit more genitalia and gender specific

I accidentally went way too hard in the paint regarding the ways that Justice & Logan have likely experienced intimacy

NSFW Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

Arvio

Experience Level

Definitely not as much as he probably says it is. Y'know the line from American Pie where the boys talk about how vaginas feel like warm apple pie? It's giving Arvio

If he has gone all the way with someone back in Barnarock, I don't think it was more than once

He has that aura of like, a hopeless romantic who thinks you have to be a player to woo a partner so they hide their lack of experience behind a cheesy facade. He just tends to massively overcomplicate things and has a questionable love for grand gestures

No hate if that's what you like, I know a ton of folks on here are Arvio fans. To me, grand gestures just seem like they're more about the gesture itself than the person it's for, and that kind of thinking is very typical for Arvio. He doesn't tend to think through the consequences his plans have for the people involved, a la the Desert Rose incident

Foreplay

He's very easy to get riled up

partner runs their fingers through his hair & lightly drags their nails along their scalp & he's ready to

his partner's dressed up in Pablo's new swimsuit collection? He's ready to go

For his partner

bird of paradise dance probably

He's gonna try every move in the book on his partner first, and it's definitely him overcompensating because he's secretly worried they'll be disappointed in how quickly he finishes

After a while he'll get more comfortable, though, & he'll really take his time to figure out what his partner likes

He'll really give it his all tbh, even if the skills take a while to build. It's the effort that counts

Aftercare

He's gonna ramble on and on about how amazing it was for sure

From there? All his Treasure has to do is ask, and he'll make it happen. A glass of water? Some cleanup? Snuggles and sleep? He's on it

Being his partner's first

the PRESSURE on this poor man lmfao

he's gonna go all out to try and make it perfect, rose petal trail to the bed, rose petals on the bed, an old record playing in the background, candles, the whole 9 yards

bro's gonna be studying up on some romance novels

of course, what really matters is the genuine emotional connection, so just be patient & remind him that this is about the two of you coming together, not two characters in some book

Burgess

p sure the builder is Burgess' first anything, virgin for sure

While he wouldn't be turned off by a very experienced partner being his first, I do think he would probably build up a lot of unrealistic expectations for himself, so just be sure to remind him that it's completely okay & the important part is to make love, not just bone crazy style

he'll definitely try to do some research about it (and nearly die from embarrassment in the process) and most likely end up psyching himself out

He doesn't need aftercare so much as he needs beforecare tbh

Foreplay

sermons about the builder

Burgess is definitely inexperienced, so it'll take a minute to figure out what works best for him in terms of foreplay, but I imagine he'd be pretty easy: whispering spicy nothings in his ear, a light tug on his belt, anything involving touching his neck, especially if it's the bare skin (like a sneaky lil finger under his collar?? Mans is IN)

And for his partner? Burgess strikes me as a Grade A Carpet Muncher tbh, or an absolute throat goat for penis-having builders

It's hydrating, probably nutritious (fuck if I know), his partner loves it

Body Worship is the term I'm looking for lmfao

He's definitely a giver, the kind to whimper and grind himself into the bed while he gives his partner head

And if the builder is calling his name as they writhe under him? He's busting quick

He's really a romantic, so as long as his partner can really feel that physical expression of his love for them, and they can give it in return, he'll be a happy lil guy

Aftercare

I don't really see Burgess as being comfortable with anything too hardcore kinky, definitely not pain or bruising

maybe some fuzzy handcuffs or silk ropes

I think he would enjoy a more dominant partner who can take the lead in kinkier situations, y'know? He'd prefer being blindfolded & tied to the bed more than doing it to his partner

Either way, after any sexual encounter, he'll be pretty up front about asking the builder if they really had a good time, and even more up front letting them know that he had a good time

being his partner's first

how romantic!

Burgess puts a lot of pressure on himself & can become very insecure when it comes to situations he's not familiar with, so having a partner with little to no experience would be a big relief for him. Y'all can figure it out together!

Ernest

Experience Level

He talks a big game, but every move he has came from a damn book, no real experience

Foreplay

Thinking about Logan

Reading smut together! Or coming up with smut together

Maybe he had an idea for an adult book & needs to make sure that the scenes he's describing actually work

Aftercare

Impromptu sonnet about his partner opening up like a flower or something probably

Sleepy snuggles after the sonnet

Being his partner's first

Externally he's like "oh don't worry, we'll figure this out step by step" while internally he's screaming a bit because he's new to this too and oh man what if he's not good enough or it's only mid and now he's ruined your first time

Fang

Experience Level

I mean, we all know Fang is brand new to this. He knows what it's supposed to be and quite frankly, the weight of those expectations is far scarier than if he was just venturing into the unkown

Foreplay

DO NOT BITE OR SCRATCH THIS MAN. He's had enough pain in his life, he does not need it sprinkled into his pleasure as well

Given the dynamic of his relationship with the builder throughout the game, I denounce the cries for "dommy daddy fang" and posit instead, "power bottom fang"

I agree he's incredibly pent-up, but the builder would have to initiate things because he's just not as comfortable initiating relational steps. The builder does a lot of that in-game, pushing him (within reason) out of his comfort zone & from there he can really take off & go crazy go dummy

The builder hugged him once when he tried pulling away, and once he finally did give in he was basically like "we are married now". Swans mate for life man, c'mon

Aftercare

Drinking water together afterward, both of y'all just sitting in breathless silence

He's got herbs to help in case of exhaustion 😎 so he will probably insist on both parties getting some sleep afterward

"The feel of your touch…unforgettable." I can't let this line go guys, it's an 11/10 on the Fang boldness scale. Rewired my brain chemistry, honestly. He's definitely gonna let ya know he had a good time & the way he says it is gonna leave you stunned for a second

Being his partner's first

Honestly, he'd be relieved. They can both move slowly, without a whole lot of pressure to be great from the start

You gotta be willing to play the long game & push things forward to romance Fang, and that would count for intimacy too

He'll go at whatever pace his partner sets

Justice

Experience Level

Pretty well experienced, but it's been a while

Doesn't have as much of an existential crisis as Logan regarding past nights of fun. If he's out with Logan, he understands he actually has to charm someone with his personality & playfulness. Justice is handsome, don't get me wrong. But for any of y'all out there who are like, above average in attractiveness, but are still considered by others far below that of your friends (at least in terms of what's conventional), you get what I'm saying. (Maybe later we can get into a whole thing about whiteness being the standard for beauty in My Time games & how that's informed by contemporary attitudes)

So he at least knows that, somewhat, this person is sleeping with him because they actually like him, not just because he's a trophy to be won

Justice is comfortable in himself and what he can do for a partner, so he doesn't tend to sweat the small things too much

Foreplay

flirflirtflirtflirtflirtflirtflirt. Mans has one-liners for every occasion, this included

He'll get them all riled up with little double entendres slipped into his usual jokes, stuff he knows only they'll pick up on

Seeing his partner get all flustered and blushy at what seems to be just a passing comment? And then watching them get more and more worked up 'til they finally get home & can let it all out? chefs kiss

He's a classic, & he enjoys the classics. Slap his ass

Y'all saw that flirty shooting lesson, right? Justice really enjoys that kind of plausible deniability, where only he and his builder are in on the joke & the joke is that they're boning

Aftercare

he's grabbing the warm damp rag, getting y'all cleaned up, and snuggling up in bed

Will give them a sly wink the morning after when he sees them riding a little funny into town

Speaking of riding, save a yakmel, ride a sheriff

Being his partner's first

Genuinely thought he was too old for this, but that's okay 'cause he's got the experience & the patience to make sure they have a good time

Logan

Experience Level

similar to justice, pretty well-versed but obviously it's been a minute

different from justice in that Logan doesn't really look back fondly on past partners

Logan is a hardcore romantic with an ooey-gooey heart; he doesn't get much out of one-night stands other than a brief physical catharsis.

For him, sex would only be enjoyable & memorable with someone he actually cares about. Otherwise, it's just kind of like putting on a shitty plastic bandaid that's gonna fall off in about 5 minutes

It's also worth noting that Logan is well-aware that he is considered very attractive to others, which makes it easy to find a ONS, but he also knows that the other person couldn't give less of a shit about him. He's just the eye candy they get to brag about later.

Kinda reminds me of an early reddit post I saw where a "fan" was asking if there's a way to romance Logan without adopting Andy too. Like, just say you want to ride the wanted poster, rather than the character & baggage behind all that

Foreplay

weak for mumus, weak for domesticity in general after basically spending his life hunting with his dad

Fighting to a degree, like when you get into an argument with your partner just to have angry sex

Or like, physically play-fighting. There's something about fighting to pin your partner down while they're actively trying to pin you down too that's just, oof man

Compliments both ways! He get's all bashful when his partner compliments him, and of course he loves to sing his builder's praises too. They saved his home, damnit, light of his life.

Aftercare

"Darlin', was that as amazing for you as it was for me? Didn't hurt, right?"

Glass of water & sleepy snuggles afterward

If it was morning sex, he's burning breakfast with the confidence of a god

Cigarettes after sex, but make it blue collar

Being his partner's first

He feels like a whore at first, lmao, running back through war flashbacks of so many half-forgotten partners and drunken nights spent looking for a momentary comfort after weeks in the wilderness

"Me???? Ya sure?"

He'll be very gentle, almost too gentle, like he's terrified of hurting his partner or doing the wrong thing. He'll check in often to make sure they're having fun & feeling good

Miguel

Experience Level

Inexperienced in all matters of love, somewhat experienced in reading smut romance novels.

He grew up in Doss, which was destroyed. Then he studied in Meidi where everyone else liked Matilda better than him. He's a social outcast, and has had few opportunities to really connect with another person romantically, so he's mostly written it off for himself.

Foreplay

Well, how do you tend a garden? Or a flock? Care, tenderness, and patience. How do you get a massively repressed pastor horny? Literally, just touch him anywhere & he's already at half mast.

Thinks he wants to be in control, but enjoys things much more when he is not. He's very easy to get flustered when its his Builder complimenting his appearance or telling him how much they want him. He may not pick up on subtle hints as easily, but a few spicy words whispered in his ear will be more than enough to get him going.

Aftercare

"I…that was…for once, I feel that words cannot do it justice…"

Looooooooong talks afterwards about how meaningful it was, how emotionally connected & in-tune he felt with his partner. It's a kind of intimacy he's never experienced before, and to him, it's divine. Making love and being in love become gifts from the Light.

Being his partner's first

Miguel.exe has stopped working, immediate blue screen

Like, of course, he has this reverence toward his Builder where his religiosity really comes into play, holding them to a high standard & kinda putting them on a moral pedestal. That being said, I think early on he does expect them to be more worldly than they seem, & especially with how desirable he knows they are, he would find it surprising they haven't had a partner before. It'll make him feel that much more special, that much more unworthy, to hold his Builder, and he's determined to do everything he can to make sure they know how much they mean to him

Owen

Experience Level

If he's not a virgin, he's had maybe like one partner before

This mans is nervous. Thanks to growing up in the saloon though, he's at least heard or seen a few things & has a real knack for reading people, making him a quick study in bed. That said, I think growing up in the saloon & sometimes overhearing or even accidentally seeing patrons get down and dirty upstairs could paint a slightly unrealistic picture in his mind. He's a romantic for sure, so the sloppy, messy one night stands he's heard or seen would turn him off from casual sex. He wants connection and love, not just jackhammering both parties to a screeching finale.

Foreplay

Initially, he might try to treat it as a performance, especially if his partner is pretty well-versed in casual liasons. Be sure to remind him that you want him for who he really is, and not what he thinks intimacy should look like.

Communication, communication, communication. He'll ask his partner for some guidance as to what they like, stopping to check in every now and then just to make sure he's doing it right

If the Builder's helping out around the saloon, he's definitely gonna get caught staring as they bend over to buss a table. Grace will tease him about this and jokingly threaten to swoop in on his partner if all he wants to do is just stand there and look.

Aftercare

Oh he's cooking afterward for sure. Not anything too fancy, but something simple and comforting

The sex may be done, but his hands are still all over his partner, massaging trembling legs, caressing their cheek, all the tenderness and love he can convey without actually being inside them.

Being his partner's first

It's a big relief for him, I would think. Not that he would judge a partner who has experience, but he would feel less pressured to perform in a way that may not come naturally to him. He can just focus on taking his time and exploring what works for both parties.

That being said, he's still gonna pressure himself about making it perfectly romantic, kind of like Arvio or Ernest. He went all out for his proposal, so imagining the wedding night??? Honeymoon suite, flowers, champagne, his best records playing in the background. And for all that, as soon as he sees the white lingerie, he's cooked. Everything he had planned flies right out the window

Pablo

Experience Level

Knowing Pablo, no one but him will ever truly know

However, he does come across as very experienced, so I think he could sit at either end of the spectrum

Either he's flirted his way across the Free Cities but never let himself be vulnerable enough to actually have sex, or he really has slept his way through town, keeping a line of various paramours waiting for his return

Foreplay

Flirting yes, but specifically mean flirting, like teasing and challenging. Pablo enjoys a good back-and-forth with someone he respects and cares about. It's less about the physicality of foreplay than it is the communication and anticipation. He appreciates a partner who can get him hot and bothered only to say "Hm, maybe later. Stars aren't aligned for it right now." Pablo is coy, so he'd like a partner who knows how to play hard-to-get

He'll playfully lament their teasing & wax poetic about being a man deprived of affection while thrilling at how well they understand him & can keep up with him.

He's taking charge, telling the builder to lie back and relax while he does what an artist does best. His tongue is the brush, the Builder his canvas

Aftercare

It's more limited at first, as he adjusts to the post-nut clarity and realizes he really did let himself be vulnerable with another person. He might shut down a bit as he processes things, cringing at himself for all his perceived mistakes. He'll need his partner's reassurance that it was a good time & was just as meaningful for them as it was for him

Cigarettes after sex, but make it a painting

Once he grows more comfortable with his partner though, he becomes an expert at aftercare

Being his partner's first

"My Spark, you shall have only the finest of my talents, then. Just relax, and oh, do speak up dear." Lowkey Astarion-coded

Pen (based on his English dialogue lines as Pen in the original Chinese is a whole different person)

Y'all have no idea how badly I wanted to make his entire entry just the gif of Patrick Bateman watching himself & flexing in the mirror

Experience Level

Well, we know this one, if his comment about the 12 other lovers is to be believed (which I am inclined to because ain't no way that's the first emergency fuck-sofa he's ever built)

That being said, he definitely leans more toward the "fuck" end of the spectrum rather than the "make love" side of things

making love requires vulnerability & emotionality that Pen just hasn't invested in anyone before the Builder (& even then he still had a lot to hide)

Has a big dick and he knows it (he measured)

Foreplay

Fighting. Other than that, just assume he's really ready to go whenever and wherever

He doesn't really see a need to invest in much foreplay unless his partner tells him they want it

He might be hestitant at first, not really understanding the nuances that go into foreplay (How could his fingers - mighty as they are - do something his dick could not?) but once he does see the effect it has on his partner, he's locking that away for future use back in Duvos

He'll be surprised at how much he comes to enjoy just taking his time to tease his partner, especially once he finds out he can make them beg for it. And once he discovers how far edging can go? Good luck, Builder

Aftercare

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

jk guys don't kill me I know y'all love this guy

But his aftercare is gonna come down to "babe that was great wasn't it? Like a battle for the ages, Skinny! My blood is pumping, gonna go fight some monsters real quick."

You'd need to be pretty comfortable taking care of yourself & advocating for yourself if you're gonna be with Pen. It's not that he doesn't care if his partner had a good time, but more that he just assumes it's about the size of the tool rather than how you use it.

Being his partner's first

Like I said, if you're gonna be with Pen, you'd better be comfortable speaking up about what you want. He's got a big personality & a tendency to push others the way he wants them to go.

He's gonna be prideful about it, because of course you'd want him to be your first. Just, y'know, understand that this means your expectations for other future partners will be far, far too high. Pen, why are you talking about future partners? The arrogant demeanor is really just a cover-up for the tiny Pen inside who is absolutely floored and anxious at the prospect. He's gonna feel like he needs to perform and perform exceptionally.

Once he's into it though, instinct just takes over & he stops thinking so much & just focuses on giving his partner what they obviously want: him!

Qi

Experience Level

Qi is a virgin, having never had any romantic partners before the builder. Everything he knows about sex definitely comes from textbooks, so he's likely to approach it from a very methodical point of view. You'll have to help him to learn the more emotional side of things, how making love is about connection and intimacy, rather than just going through the prescribed motions.

Foreplay

The scientific method! He's going in with research (asking partner what they like), a hypothesis (If I do X, then they will react like Y), and unbiased experimentation (hypothesis confirmed or rejected?)

He can, and will (that's a threat) repeat the experiments as many times as necessary to achieve the desired result (little death of his partner)

And it's the same thing for him, too. He has no idea what he would like, so a partner who wants to help explore his desires and needs with the same efficiency & exhaustive methods would be ideal. I could see Qi being one of the few bachelors you would want a safeword with right from the get-go just because he's so curious

Aftercare

Sand tea, you'll need the caffeine

He's definitely gonna go on a long lecture about all the chemical changes happening in your bodies after the climax: bonding hormones, endorphins, post-nut clarity, the whole nine yards

Being his partner's first

That's great! Now he has someone to study with

He would also be surprised, kind of like Miguel, because it's not like he doesn't understand how desirable the builder is. He'd mostly wonder why you would choose him of all people when there are plenty more experienced candidates to help you navigate your first time. It's not like he'd go out and have someone like Grace peer-review his next research paper after all. He's still glad you didn't do that, though.

If you're a virgin, and I'm a virgin, then who's driving the bus?????

But Qi knows he's a quick study & that there's really no challenge he can't overcome with the power of his intelligence and research skill

Unsuur

Experience Level

Who tf knows, honestly. I'm willing to bet he's got some kind of real experience, at least one sexual partner from his past, but that the experience was rather…underwhelming

So Unsuur, being Unsuur, was like "hm, well, anyway I gotta go take Wilson for a walk or he'll get cranky" & from there never really pursued it until he met the builder

Foreplay

put a rock up his b jk, just make sure to turn Wilson around so he doesn't end up scarred or deviant (freaky little rock ahh). The last thing Unsuur wants to worry about is some other rolling stone showing up at the door with a bunch of googly-eyed pebbles. He loves rocks of all types, but he's only one man.

It's the little things, the domestic bliss!! His partner is up early and making breakfast in their PJs? Ready to go. Builder comes inside all hot and sweaty, covered in grease and grime after a day at the workshop? He's definitely ready to go. Anything that makes them them is what's gonna turn him on

He's just also really well-balanced when it comes to sex, I think. Like, if his partner wants a lot, that's cool he's happy to provide. But if they're not super into it? Also cool. He cares so much more about just being by their side & spending time with them than making the four-legged beast every night

He's a very intuitive person who understands a lot more than he lets on, and I think he's probably the best partner for someone who might struggle to communicate what they want in bed. He'll be paying close attention to all the non-verbal cues and adjusting accordingly. He's quiet himself, so he would have a unique understanding for a partner who also tends to be quiet.

Aftercare

He keeps it simple, small compliments and affirmations afterward to let his Gem know he enjoyed himself & hopes they enjoyed it too

Sharing a glass of water and falling asleep in each other's arms, safe and loved

If it's earlier in the day, he might be feeling froggy enough to make a batch of yellow soup n' lemons too

Being his partner's first

"Oh, it's your first time? Cool." Especially if he, personally, had an underwhelming first time because it taught him that sex isn't just about the act itself, but who you do it with

He's the least likely to care if his partner is a virgin or not, 'cause either way they only have time to get better at it.

[averys-nightmare-zone]

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!

[jasntodds]

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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[verlaineszz]

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

�� ࣪˖ 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.

© All works by @Verlaineszz Do not copy, redistribute, or repost on other platforms.

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:

[tenpintsofsundrop]

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.

[writing-for-love]

A Small England Drabble

Fandom: Hetalia

Characters: England

Reader: Gender Neutral

Warnings: None

Note: First post, so idk if this is what you guys would be interested in. Hopefully someone likes it. If not, yell at me what you do want. <3

This was mainly just to get something posted. I know if I tried to perfect my first post, this blog would be abandoned. I'm not particularly proud of it.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

Thankfully, the rain stopped before Arthur left his office. The weather was actually quite nice this morning, so he hadn't even realized it started raining while hidden away inside. Though, he couldn't complain. The sun was back out now and the streets were still cleared up. Everyone who escaped the rain must not have realized it stopped just yet.

Feeling particularly motivated, Arthur headed towards the bookstore he frequented when in high spirits. It was a chaotic place, with used books stacked wherever they could fit. Though usually a man of order, the tight aisles and full shelves did provide an enjoyable form of intimacy. Like how he imagined it would feel to be hidden away with a lover, though the lover in this case was a play by Shakespeare or a poem by Pope.

Seeing the building ahead, Arthur snapped out of his thoughts. There was a quiet jingle of a bell as he opened the door, then the smell of a library hit him. Smelled like a good evening, if only he had stopped for some coffee before this.

He squeezed past some boxes and shelves to the stairway. The section on classic literature was upstairs, between philosophy and world history. He might wander into those sections as well if the selection wasn't particularly good today.

Working through the maze-like room upstairs, he made it to his aisle just to stop in his tracks. Someone was already there, looking at a copy of Anna Karenina. They seemed engulfed in flipping through the novel. They were dressed cozy, likely coming here on a day off. Even so, the low light made the situation seem more intimate than it really should be.

Arthur knew they hadn't noticed him yet. He thanked whoever owned this building that they put carpet in, so his dress shoes didn't tap on the way over.

God, he really needed to take a break from Jane Austen. As he aged, Arthur had become an awful romantic, supposing he hadn't been one the whole time. To think he'd fallen so far from grace, to become nervous so easily.

Adjusting his suit jacket and coming back to himself, he slid into the aisle. Suddenly, the tightness of the space felt a bit more claustrophobic.

“Oh, sorry.”

He met their eyes as they finally noticed his entrance. They must have thought they were in his way. “No, it's alright! Sorry, I'm just skimming.” He put a hand up as a sort of surrender. He really should have just gone to a different aisle. The modern day has made him terribly socially awkward. “Have you read Anna Karenina?”

Looking up slightly at him, they giggled quietly. “Uh, no. I wouldn't buy it if I had.”

He tried to keep his cheeks from flushing, like he had any say in the matter. He should have gone to a different aisle. At least they had the decency to say the obvious kindly.

“Of course,” he pushed some of his hair back, “I'd recommend it. Good read. Anyway…”

They smiled a bit and held eye contact. Maybe he came off as cute? He could at least hope for that.

“I'll buy it then. It's on you if I don't enjoy it,” they teased as they shifted to hold the book more decisively against themselves.

“Of course.” He relaxed his posture a bit as some of the anxiety left him. "Though, how would I know?” He skimmed some of the shelves to look somewhere else. All that emotion for such a short conversation.

They shrugged a bit. “Maybe I'll have to give you my number.”

What? He looked back at them. Oh... Okay. He smiled, genuinely quite surprised. "Well... That hardly took convincing."

[symphonic-scream]

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

[ladyluscinia]

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).

[itsnotablogsblog]

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.

[ghastlyang3l]

Hello my name is Leslie!! I am a teenage writer and I would like to show you guys my first ever original story! but I would like to go over the basic information, this story may contain heavy mentions of gore and violence so read at your own risk

(this story will contain chapters, each chapter being a separate blog. this will also be a long post so be prepared(

◈ ━━━━━━ ⸙ ━━━━━━ ◈

TITLE: visions of past

GENRE: horror/ thriller/ mystery (ish)

MAJOR THEMES AND TOPICS: gore mention, violence, trauma, fear, mental health, monsters, haunting presence, internal struggles, survival, facing fears,murder.

MAIN CHARACTER(S): My original characters Alena and Syd. They are both young teenage girls who often rely on each other,but perhaps they may become more than friends during this journey.

ALENA MORNE: Born November 21th,1994.

Alena grew up in a small town known for its eerie history of disappearances and unexplained phenomena. As a young child, she started experiencing vivid hallucinations of terrifying monsters stalking her every move. Despite numerous therapy sessions and medications,the hallucinations escalated as she grew older. Now as an teenager, Alena struggles to distinguish reality from her nightmarish visions. 

Alena is a black girl that has short black curly hair and blonde highlights. Though she can't seem to keep one hairstyle as she often changes it. She often wears grunge inspired clothes,with band tees and baggy pants.

SYDNEY WELSIN: Born April 13th,1994.

Sydney is introverted and shy, often retreating into her own thoughts and imagination. She is fiercely loyal to those she cares about, but struggles with expressing her true feelings, especially when it comes to her slight crush on Alena. Syd is creative and artistic, finding an outlet in drawing and writing to cope with her inner demons (and real demons).

Sydney is a wasian girl that has shoulder-length brunette frizzy hair with teal highlights, braces on her teeth, and a complexion marked with acne scars. She dresses in baggy clothes to hide her figure and often tries to blend into the background to avoid drawing attention to herself. Although that doesn't work despite her very energetic personality.

CHAPTER ONE: BEGINNING OF THE END

『..✎..』

October 15th, 2009

Flashes.

Flashes of unseen memories flicker through Alena's mind, accompanied by the far-off sounds of police sirens and hushed, mumbled voices. Among these sounds, one voice rises above the rest, piercing through the chaos. It screams a name with such urgency and despair that the anguish resonates deeply within her. Along with the noise, a scent invades her senses—a metallic quality that suggests something alarming. Soft sobs echo in the background, dragging her further into this disquieting state until she jolts herself back into focus of the real world, drenched in sweat and disorientation.

Bright sunlight streams through her bedroom window, enveloping her in a warm, golden glow. The day is crisp with the freshness of autumn, and outside, leaves dance gently in the breeze, rustling softly to a melody only they can hear. A light wind flows through the open window, carrying with it the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting from the kitchen. In the background, Alena's mother hums a familiar tune as she tends to her morning routines, creating a soothing atmosphere that eases Alena’s troubled thoughts.

With a slow, stretching motion, Alena rises from her bed, shaking off the remnants of that freaky daydream. Her eyes drift toward her cluttered desk, where scattered papers, books, and worn notebooks lay in disarray, remnants of her ongoing investigation into the unsettling disappearances that have cast a shadow over the school and their town. Despite the dark clouds that seem to loom over their community, this morning feels distinctly different for Alena. An unexpected wave of peace washes over her, mingling with a quiet assurance that

everything will be just fine.

She makes her way to the bathroom, turns on the shower, and steps beneath the cascading hot water. As the steam envelops her, the heat washes away the lingering sleepiness, sending droplets streaming down her skin. Standing there, memories of her mother’s soft humming drift back to her, soothing and familiar. Alena marvels at how her mother maintains such calm even in the midst of swirling chaos.

After drying off with a fluffy towel, Alena catches her reflection in the bathroom mirror. There’s something different about her today—her eyes seem to shimmer with brightness, almost as if they’re glowing with an inner light. It’s a strange sensation, one she momentarily ponders before shaking it off. She dresses quickly in a loose pair of baggy jeans and a cozy sweater, layering her infamous green jacket on top, moving with a grace that reflects her growing confidence.

Her mother's voice calls from downstairs, announcing that breakfast is ready, and Alena moves energetically down the stairs, a smile breaking across her face. The rich aroma of breakfast fills the air, stirring her stomach in anticipation. Her mother looks up from the stove, her smile warm and reassuring, and asks, “How are you feeling today?” “Better,” Alena replies, laughter escaping her lips, “Much better.”

The kitchen exudes comfort, its well-worn wooden table and colorful vases of fresh flowers brightening the room. A family portrait from a happier vacation hangs proudly above the fireplace—a moment in time Alena cherishes, especially when darkness tries to creep in. Sitting at the table, Alena watches as her mother sets a steaming plate of pancakes in front of her, accompanied by a glass of vibrant orange juice. The sweet scent of the pancakes fills her senses, making her stomach rumble with delight.

As she takes her first bite, Alena savors the fluffy texture and buttery warmth. “So, how’s your best friend Syd doing?” her mother asks, her tone light yet searching. Blushing at the mention of Sydney, Alena feels a pang of longing, knowing it has been weeks since they fully connected. “She’s… doing well, I guess,” Alena replies, her voice fading slightly, “She’s been busy with her mom’s store and stuff.”

Her mother nods, but Alena can sense a shadow of concern in her gaze. It’s a look that makes Alena want to shift the conversation away. “Anyway, I should get going. I don’t want to be late for school again.” After planting a quick kiss on her mother’s cheek, she grabs her backpack and steps outside.

The brisk morning air hits her like a sudden chill, startling her senses. She inhales deeply, trying to calm the racing thoughts in her head. The school day ahead carries its own set of challenges, and lately, it has not been easy. Alena calms herself as she ventures into the day, determined to face whatever comes her way.

The hallucinations have worsened, and she is finding it increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than her own sanity. As she passes down the familiar streets, she can't shake the feeling that someone is following her. Paranoia grabs her hard, causing her to look over her shoulder every few steps. She arrives at school and is relieved to find her best friend, Syd, waiting for her by her locker.

"Hey, Alena," Syd calls out, her face lined with concern. "Are you feeling okay? You've seemed a bit...off lately." Alena swallows hard. She feels a wave of uncertainty wash over her as she thinks about the challenges she has been facing. She attempts to smile, but it feels stiff and insincere, lacking its usual warmth.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replies, masking the truth. "Just a bit tired, I guess." Although Syd looks skeptical, she chooses not to push further. They enter the gym, greeted by the familiar scent of sweat mingled with disinfectant. Coach Johnson stands at the front, already reviewing the day's schedule, but Alena's thoughts drift elsewhere, clouded by her worries.

As they change into their gym clothes in the locker room, Alena catches sight of something unusual. The mural painted on the wall seems to shimmer and shift, almost as if it has a life of its own. She glances around, hoping Syd will notice it as well, but her friend remains completely unaware. The more Alena stares at the mural, the more it distorts in ways that send chills down her spine, transforming into a dark, looming shadow. She gasps quietly, feeling frozen by fear. To regain composure, she shuts her eyes tightly and hums a soft tune before finally stepping back into the gym.

Coach Johnson, a large man known for his booming voice, seems different today. An unsettling vibe surrounds him, causing Alena's skin to prickle. Syd notices it too, and they exchange a worried glance. A sense of unease courses through her as she gently nudges Syd, drawing attention to their coach's suspicious movements.

"You know," Sydney whispers, "I can't shake this feeling that something's off with him. I wonder if he’s connected to those disappearances." Alena's heart races as she nods in agreement. "Yeah, I feel it too," she says. "Maybe we should investigate this."

They continue to observe Coach Johnson discreetly, their suspicions thickening with each passing moment. While stretching, she nudges Sydney once more, and they exchange another worried look, the tension between them palpable.

"I really think we should look into this more," Syd suggests quietly. "What if he is involved in those disappearances? We can't just let it go." Alena agrees with a firm nod. They both realize they must be careful about confronting the coach. Direct action is too risky. After gym class, they decide to create a plan. Their goal is to sneak into his office through the window after school, ready to uncover the truth.

As the final bell rings, signaling the end of another chaotic school day, Alena and her friend move quickly. They gather their belongings—books, bags, and a few stray papers—and slip out of the gym, their hearts pounding in excitement and fear. Alena takes the lead, guiding them towards the back of the school where the maintenance shed is hidden from sight. She pulls out a set of rusty keys she somehow discovered earlier. Which was very weird because, why does she have the keys to the maintenance shed? After fumbling for a moment, she finds the right one and unlocks the door, allowing them to slip inside.

The shed is dark and cluttered, filled with old equipment and tools that create a labyrinth of shadows. Piles of forgotten items serve as perfect hiding spots. They duck behind a shelf, holding their breath as they wait for the sounds of commotion to fade. Outside, footsteps echo, mixed with laughter that seems too carefree. Each sound makes their hearts race a little faster. Alena wipes a few beads of sweat from her forehead, trying to steady her breathing as anxiety swells in her chest. She glances over at Syd, who gives her a reassuring nod, a silent acknowledgment of their shared worry. Deep down, both friends know they are taking a big risk, yet they cannot shake the feeling that something unsettling is transpiring.

Cautiously, they creep across the shed floor, and back outside making their way to a window that looks into Coach Johnson's office. Alena takes one last deep breath, calming herself. With careful movements, she climbs into the office, peering at the desk. Her eyes widen in shock when she sees a towering stack of papers cluttering the surface. Each sheet is filled with handwritten notes and newspaper clippings about the missing people from their town.

Syd slips in behind her, her heart racing and pounding against her ribcage. She climbs onto the desk as well, her back pressed against the window. As she starts sorting through the chaotic mess of papers,she scans through, reading and analyzing each name. "Evan, Sara, Calvin,Yasmine" she quietly muttered, her voice trembles. "Oh my god," she whispers, “there’s a file on each of them."

Alena's eyes widened further, filled with horror. "Look at this, there are dates and times next to each name. It seems like he has been tracking their movements." A shudder runs through her. "Why would someone involved in this situation leave such files out in the open?"

Syd flips through another file, pausing to voice her thoughts. “Maybe he sees them as trophies. Does he take pride in this?” She hesitates, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. “Or perhaps he wants us to find them. Maybe he wants to make sure we know what he’s doing.”

Alena’s stomach churns at the thought. "But why expose it? Why risk being caught like this?" she asks in a hushed tone, feeling the gravity of their find.

Syd shrugs, her eyes darting around the dim room. “Maybe he thinks he’s above the law. Maybe he enjoys toying with us. Or perhaps he’s just a nonce.” Her gaze lingers on every shadow and creak in the floorboards, anxiety creeping in. “We need to leave. Now.”

Alena can feel her pulse quickening. She pushes herself off the desk, wincing as her muscles protest the sudden movement. “Yeah, let’s go before we get discovered,” she replies softly. She grabs a handful of papers, stuffing them back into their original files. “We can talk about this later.”

They both softly agree with each other as they climb out the window and back to the ground. They rush away from the school, staying hidden in the shadows of the trees. As they come around the bend, Alena can't help but giggle. "I can't believe we just did that," she exclaims between laughs. "That was so stupid and dangerous."

Her friend laughs with her, and the tension begins to dissolve. "Yeah, but it was also kind of exhilarating," she replies, wiping away tears from her eyes. "I mean, I never thought I'd be jumping out of windows to avoid a serial killer coach."

Alena nods, still breathing heavily from the adrenaline rush. "Or sneaking around in the woods like a couple of spies." They both let out a shaky laugh.

"Or worse, like we're in some sort of bizarre horror movie," Syd adds with a nervous giggle. "I mean, what are the odds of us ending up here, of all places?"

Alena shrugs, her heart racing. "I'm not sure, but I suppose we were lucky to have each other. At least we can work together to find this out." She looks across to Syd, noticing a strange sense of camaraderie developing between them.

"Yeah- Yeah you're right," Sydney agrees, taking a deep breath. "I mean, who else are we going to tell about this? It's not like anyone would believe us." They both let out a nervous laugh. "But you know, maybe we should tell someone. Like the police or something."

Alena hesitates. "I don't know. What if they think we're just crazy? Or worse, if they think we're involved in this somehow?" She shudders at the thought. "Maybe it's better if we just keep it between us for now. We can try to figure this out ourselves."

Sydney nods slowly. "I guess you're right. It's just...we can't keep living like this. Always looking over our shoulders, wondering who's watching us. It's not fair." She sighs heavily, her shoulders slumping.

"I know. But we have to be careful. We don't want to make things worse by doing something stupid" Alena says,reaching out to pat Syd on the back as they continue walking in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

Both girls exchange heartfelt goodbyes, their voices tinged with an undercurrent of sadness. Alena watches as her friend walks away, and a heavy feeling settles in her chest. She stands before her house, her hand resting hesitantly on the door. A trembling sigh escapes her lips. An unsettling nervousness grips her, a sensation as if something is off. She can't pinpoint the source of her anxiety, but her stomach churns uncomfortably. Alena’s hands quiver slightly, betraying her inner turmoil. It’s just anxiety, she tries to reassure herself. But a deeper instinct whispers warnings, fueling her unease.

With cautious deliberation, she turns the doorknob and pushes the door open. A wave of putrid smell assaults her senses, making her stomach lurch. “Oh my god—!” she gasps, her voice barely audible. The interior is enveloped in darkness, and panic begins to bubble within her. She hurriedly flicks the light switch in the living room, her heart racing with anticipation.

As the light floods the room, Alena's breath catches in her throat. Her eyes drop to the floor, and terror grips her heart. There lies her mother, motionless, surrounded by a pool of blood. The sight is unbearable. Wounds cover her mother’s body, filthy and haunting. Alena feels her vision darken and blur as shock takes hold. She stands frozen in place, paralyzed by disbelief and horror. The stench of death grows more pungent, filling her nostrils. Overwhelmed, she kneels and is consumed by grief, letting out a gut-wrenching wail. Each cry echoes her anguish, and her throat constricts painfully. “Mom... this can’t be real,” she sobs, the words choking her.

Just as despair threatens to pull her under, a gentle voice cuts through the darkness, calling her name softly. Alena looks up, her gaze shifting from the lifeless figure to a face she knows well. It is her mother, standing in the kitchen, a warm, reassuring smile gracing her lips. Confusion fills Alena’s heart, and she gasps in shock. “Mom..?” she whispers, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear. Her mother tilts her head, concern etched on her face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asks with kindness.

Alena stares at her mother, horror still fresh in her mind. She feels trapped between two realities. Desperately, she glances back at the floor, expecting to see the scene of horror again. But there is nothing. No blood, no body. Just emptiness where fear once stood. A wave of relief washes over her as realization dawns. Alena leaps up, racing into her mother’s arms, holding on tightly. She clings to her, desperate not to let go.

Alena pulls away as her mother gently kisses her cheek and wipes away her tears. She is unable to speak. Her throat hurts from crying so much. She is unable to breathe, but she is comforted knowing that her mother is alive. However, it is possible that she will require more serious therapy and medication going forward.

Still dazed after what has happened in the last several hours, Alena returns to her bedroom and changes back into her pajamas. She climbs onto her bed and cuddles herself as she lies comfortably in it. She still feels a pit in her stomach, as if something is wrong, but she can't shake it. She shuts her eyes firmly, hoping it's nothing.

Everything   Is   Just  Fine .

『..✎..』

(hope you enjoyed chapter 1!! here's a drawing of Alena and Syd for your troubles <33)

[vettelsvee]

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

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

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.

[softness-and-shattering]

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*.