#so i just can't gauge if i've gotten better or not and i suppose it doesn't matter but also

[scary-monsters]

tryinggg to get ch 3 of diego horse girl fic done tonight but yeesh it's been so tough motivating myself when i'm sure it's being written for an audience of me and maybe three other people

every time i get a new comment on ao3 it's for my longass 200k childhood friends to lovers fic from my ushiten days and as much as i Appreciate it and it does make me feel really really good it's also like... man i want people to read my stuff now as well??

[just-jordie-things]

about the blurbs, how about jjk guys knowing you have a crush on them? would they confess first or would they try to get you to admit it? (:

i love this sm bc yes they would know right away that i'm in love with them hehe

GOJO SATORU

ofc this mf knows you're into him. and of course he's going to try to get you to admit to it.

but that's a little easier said than done, because he's been flirting with you relentlessly for months, and it hasn't actually gotten him anywhere. sure, you always quip something flirty or sassy back at him, you're quick on your feet and effortlessly charming, but it always seems to end there, at the banter.

so he'd try asking you out, asking if you were free, for dinner, or a movie, or anything he could think of. but you always seemed to laugh him off, already have plans, or give him a flirty non-answer. he was starting to think you were blowing him off, and maybe he'd had you all wrong.

but nope! you're just clueless!

he realizes this one day when you call him out on yet another offer to take you to dinner.

"when have you lost all your creativity? did you finally run out of pickup lines?"

he furrows his brow at you, laughing a little out of confusion, before he realizes you're just as confused.

"(y/n), i'm asking you out,"

you blink.

"on a date"

you tilt your head at him.

"i want to go out with you, just the two of us"

"for real?" you ask, your eyes blowing wide with surprise.

"yeah for real!" satoru laughs. "i've been trying to for a while, don't tell me you haven't noticed?"

you shrug your shoulders. "i thought you were just joking around," you admit. "i'd love to go out with you"

after that it's smooth sailing for you two, but satoru will always tell other people that you rejected him repeatedly until finally giving into his charm. ___

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

to be honest... he does not know you have a crush on him, and will not figure it out unless you flat out tell him.

you learn this the hard way, after spending way too much time dropping hints- hints which you believed to be pretty strong signals of romantic interest, that megumi seemed to believe was just your personality.

you don't know how many eyelashes you plucked off his cheeks, or how many times your hand grabbed his, or rested on his arm or shoulders for just a few beats too long to be a casual touch. it was getting ridiculous. and if you didn't know better, you'd think he was just so uninterested in you that he juts ignored it all.

fortunately for him, you knew better.

and one day you couldn't keep up with all the flirting you were doing, because it wa only driving you mad!

so when the two of you are alone, you decide to just make a bigger goddamn move.

you're training together, and when you find yourself pinning megumi to the ground with a triumphant smile, you decide here goes nothing, and you lean down and kiss him. (he just looked so pretty underneath you!)

when you lean back, staring at him with wide eye to gauge his reaction, you find yourself holding your breath.

he looks surprised at first, but then he furrows his brows.

"was that supposed to throw me off?" he asks. "because that's good, I definitely wasn't expecting that. but I don't think you should be kissing curses, (y/n), that's kinda weird"

it's so cute how confused he is, but you can't help but sigh, and hang your head. how did he still not get it?

"no, dummy, i just wanted to kiss you"

there's a flicker of realization in his eyes, and a quick blush blooming across his face. he definitely realizes then all the little things he'd found cute about you, were just you trying to tell him you liked him. like-liked him.

later when he relays this story to yuuji and nobara, they laugh at him, because they'd thought you two had been together all this time. ___

OKKOTSU YUUTA

when yuuta starts to notice a change in your behavior, he picks up on your crush instantly.

your small chats during study sessions turned into lengthy conversations while wandering around campus late at night. eye contact was more often fleeting, and now accompanied with a blush. it also helped that maki and panda had eagerly told him how you always found a way to bring him up in conversation.

that was the icing on the cake, and yuuta was just over the moon at the thought of you crushing on him, because of course he shared your feelings! how could he not? you'd quickly become his favorite person to talk to, and your smile never failed to brighten his day.

so after his friends had given him a little slice of certainty that you had more than platonic feelings for him, yuuta decided to do something about it.

you're walking around campus as usual one night, enjoying the sunset and each other's company, when you notice a piece of dandelion fluff that had gotten stuck in his hair. you're quick to stop him and carefully retrieve the tuft of white, before presenting it before him on your fingertips, insisting he had to make a wish.

"i think that only counts when they're still on the stem" he chuckles at your antics.

"i won't tell," you whisper like it's a secret worthy of you taking to the grave. "just do it before i steal it"

you're smiling and blushing because you're standing so close to him and he hasn't stopped staring at you and it's starting to turn your brain and heart to mush. so yuuta tips his head and blows on the fluff, sending it off with the breeze once more.

you grin, more joyous than he was about a childish superstition, but he had to admit seeing you so happy made him want to go find a hundred more dandelions with you.

"i like you so much," he says, and your whole body is filled with a comforting warmth. "i wished you'd just ask me out already"

with wide eyes and parted lips, a small gasp of nervous laughter bubbled out of you.

"you wished that i asked you out?" you repeat.

"sure did," yuuta says with a proud smile, knowing his wish went to good use. "been waitin', you know"

your brows draw together, but you're smiling, no, beaming. you're absolutely glowing before him.

"i've been waiting for you to ask me out" you admit softly, your nose and cheeks dusting with color.

with only a little shyness, yuuta reaches out to take your hand in his, your fingers carefully slotting together in a rehearsed dance you'd never taken part of before.

"well now we'll have to find another dandelion" he hums, making you giggle.

he's only joking of course, but when he does find one later in your walk, he insists it's your turn to make your wish. once the fluffy seeds are blown into the air, he leans in to steal your lips in a kiss. ___

INUMAKI TOGE

toge has known about your feelings for him for months now, and he's certain he's done everything he can to just get you to confess already. he's texting you through all hours of the day, complete with good morning and goodnight texts. he's written you flirty little notes (which he's seen you keep in the inside cover of your notebook to keep it protected!) and he's given you a few fleeting cheek kisses here and there!

the guy could only speak in onigiri ingredients, couldn't you throw him a bone and confess your undying love for him already? it was starting to make him grumpy.

you're oblivious to his own flirtations and attempts to get your confession, and he knows this. so he knew he had to take a dramatic leap of faith to get you to admit your feelings, once and for all.

he kidnaps you.

not really... but he does hide out in a utility closet until he hears you passing and yanks you in there with him. your yelp of surprise is quickly silenced by a hand to your mouth, and as soon as you see it's toge, you relax.

"fuck you scared me," you sigh when he pulls his hand away. "don't do that! if you wanted to talk to me, you could've just texted me" you scold.

he shrugs and gives you a sheepish grin, which makes you realize he's unzipped his collar and seeing his whole face is enough to make your knees weak.

he gestures to you, before waving his hands around the small space. you glance around the closet, wincing, not understanding why you had to meet in here.

"my room would have been just as private..." you say, your eyes landing on an open gallon of bleach on a shelf.

you supposed there weren't regular health inspections at a place like this.

"what did you need to talk about in private anyways?" you ask, choosing to ignore that you were probably inhaling a lot of chemicals right now.

or were you just feeling dizzy because you were so close to him and his face was just so pretty and he's staring at you with those pretty purple eyes-?

toge points to you, and then to himself. "salmon"

you giggle, not quite grasping the specifics of what he wanted to say, but feeling flattered nonetheless. toge frowns.

"what?" you poke at his chin to question him on the long face.

toge points his finger at you again, this time for longer, as if that was the part you weren't understanding. then he brings both hands together to draw the shape of a heart in front of you. you giggle at this again, but don't cut him off. he ends his silent statement by shoving his finger into his chest.

"i love you?" you say, too focused on the guessing game to realize what you were actually saying, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes are widening and your cheeks are darkening.

toge seems victorious, grinning widely now and nodding his head. you're still stunned frozen as he repeats his gesture again, this time pointing to himself before pointing to you, and then holding up two fingers.

it was his crude way of saying I love you too.

your shock relaxes into ease when you realize he'd wanted your confession so that he could make his own, and he wasn't about to tease you relentlessly for your feelings.

his hands grab your own, pulling you towards him, but just before he can slant his lips on yours, you shake your head.

"there's way too many open chemicals to hang out in here any longer," you say, reaching for the door behind him and shoving him out of the closet. "let's go somewhere else"

you didn't have to tell him twice, he's happy to drag you throughout the halls towards his room. ___

a/n: wanna make the yuuta one a full fic now :(

xoxo ~ jordie

[spoon-and-knifehandcrafts]

On Swatching

I have a Bachelor's of Arts in Graphic Design, which I have maybe used for paying work 5 times in my life. And the only courses I really enjoyed were the required studio ones. Transitioning from real life medium to digital painting was a breeze, except...

Well, I'm an Aries. You can't tell an Aries anything, especially when they've somehow picked up Taurus traits even though the 12th ain't really a 'cusp'. And that + neurospiciness?

Pfft, no patience AND stubborn as a steer.

But I realized something in my digital painting time. You can't fudge the details. If you want it to look the way it looks in your head - that problem so common to artists with the inner eye that knows what it is you're trying to do - you cannot skimp. You cannot rush it. You have to go back to that one spot and put those details in. You have to take the time required to do something that looks good to you. The good/fast/cheap triangle doesn't really exist here, not for personal work. No one is paying you more to try and make things good and also quickly. In a lot of ways until you get better and more practiced you simply can't.

You have to do the work. All the work. The boring stuff, too. You'll feel like you're gonna die if it's not done soon. But the effort is actually noticeable.

When I got into fiber arts I forgot that lesson. Surely no one needs to SWATCH to make scarves and mittens and baby blankets. Gauge isn't relevant!

I have a finished object that's a garment. I won't show it here because I'm too ashamed to look at it. I spent literal months trying to perfect that garment. I messed up the front panel of it so badly once and the yarn had already gotten so terrible on it that I had to re buy two balls of yarn to re-knit it from scratch. I blocked it. I wove the ends in like a champ.

I never swatched. I thought to myself - I've knit this woman's patterns before. I did swatches then. It should be fine.

It was completely different fiber content.

The result was a tank top that was far too wide and far too short, with uneven straps and incorrect shaping. And all of that pain and spent time and spent money could have been avoided if I'd swatched.

Recently I just frogged another thing because instead of making a real swatch, blocking it, and checking, I stretched the stitches out on my needle and held them down with something heavy, got out a ruler, and figured my 'cheat blocking' would be enough.

Guess what. It wasn't. Now I'm frogging and going back down a needle. The pile of very annoyed superwash yarn ramen that is getting a bit natty and catching on itself is judging me. I'M judging me.

Sometimes, if you want it to look the way it's 'supposed' to look, the way the other projects do, the way the samples do, the way you know in your artist's eye you need it to - You have to do the work. Even the boring parts. Even those stupid swatches.

That failed tank top stays in a drawer. It'd make a great oversized crop top, I guess. I'll knit another one some day soon.

Hopefully this is the last time I heave to learn this lesson.

[darling-i-read-it]

Hum... Just basic first 😅 Bruce and Matt reacting to neck kisses and a good massage (when they're stressed and tired) please 👀

thank you for the basic first because that means i get to go all out <3 also my assumption is you want robert pattinson bruce cause that's what I've been writing lately. my apologizes if i'm wrong!

Matthew Murdock

- matt is <3 always stressed out and tired <3

- he was actually born that way. right out of the womb, exhausted and overworked

- he likes it though in some cases because it means he's getting shit done

- regardless, it's always nice to ease that tension

- he can hear you when you're coming even if you're the stealthiest person the planet

- doesn't matter. matt's superhearing will hone in on those familiar footsteps he knows and loves

- still you try. you come behind him while he sits on the couch and lean over him, rubbing his shoulders

- he lets out a long sigh of relief, his head falling back to the top of the couch

- you dip your head and give him gentle kisses on his jaw and on his neck as you dig your fingers into his shoulder, easing the tension he didn't know was there

- 'You could use a real massage Murdock'

- 'I busted the only massage place in the town for drug trafficking' he muttered, somewhat blissfully, as he faces the ceiling. 'Come around'

- you were not one to deny him and you let him go for a moment, getting on the other side of the couch

- you tapped his shoulder gently and pulled him down softly so his head was on your lap

- you rubbed his arms, looking down at his peaceful face, his eyes closed

- 'Can't kiss me down here,' he pointed out, sadly

- 'Then sit up Murdock'

- He actually fell asleep there after like five minutes but you kissed the back of his hand gently as he drifted off, to make sure he got those good kisses in <3

Bruce Wayne

- even if he isn't tired he sure as hell looks tired

- it's kind of hard to gauge his actual level of exhaustion because he's built up such a tolerance

- he can go on three hours of sleep and be perfectly fine

- but you know when a weeks been tough in the world of Batman

- he was sitting up in bed, some files out in front of him that Gordon had gotten for him

- he had scars littering his bare back that you traced lightly

- he shivered under your touch. even into the relationship, he had a hard time getting used to someone caring about him so intimately all the time

- he loved it. it was just foreign

- you sat up and rubbed his shoulders

- the tension in them eased instantly and he held the files in his hands still as he focused on your touch

- you got up on your knees so you had a better angle to rub his tender muscles

- you leaned forward after a moment and put your head against the back of his, kissing his neck gingerly

- he breathed out shakily

- 'This is supposed to be relaxing you' you whispered

- 'It is relaxing' he protested curtly, not wanting you to stop

- you smiled gently and moved your hands down his arms carefully, rubbing his biceps and leaving kisses on his shoulders

- you placed your chin on his shoulder and you looked at each other

- instead of speaking he just gently put his forehead against yours

- you kissed his lips once, for good measure

[joaquinwhorres]

Stitches & Blankets (Joaquin Torres x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› You find Joaquin Torres after he tries to stop the bank robbery.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,000-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› OK, why are there not more Torres fics? I'm legitimately confused about that. Also, I realized after writing half of this down, that a bank was robbed, so there were probably still police on the scene and the reader'd probably be speaking Swiss-German but uh...fan fiction.

There was a body in the street, which was not what you expected to see coming out to your car.

You'd heard the wailing sirens and shouting and the thunderous footsteps--they're what kept you pressed against the side of the building for the past ten minutes, avoiding the chaos as much as possible. It wasn't fear that kept you there though, it was experience. You'd become used to the quick riots and little skirmishes for resources over the past few months. You knew it was better to stay out of the way, wait out the storm, and then go about your life. They became nothing more than minor nuisances. Bits of unrest that were there and then gone in the next instance. They weren't supposed to leave a body behind.

"Meine Fresse," you murmured, racing forward to the person lying supine on the stones, arms out to their sides, the white of their sneakers reflecting the street lights. As you drew closer, you saw it was a man--about your age with blood around his eye and nose and lip. For a brief second, you wondered if he'd been trampled, but he definitely would have looked worse for wear based on how many people you'd heard.

"Bist du okay?" Your voice was loud as you checked over the rest of his body. He didn't seem to have any other injury, and there wasn't any blood under his head, so you decided it was safe enough to gently shake him.

He didn't rouse.

So, instead you knelt your ear down to his lips, laying your hand flat on his chest. You felt your hand rise before you heard the slow intake of breath, and you rocked back onto your knees. He was breathing. He was alive.

Still, something gnawed at the back of your mind, urging your fingers up under his jaw, gently pressing into his neck. It was only then that you felt a surge of relief. His pulse was there, and it was strong. He was really alive.

And then you remembered that you should probably call 112.

All things considered, it was a quick phone call--the operator seemed to know your exact location and vaguely what had happened as you explained where you were and how you found him. Instead, most of the conversation was spent listening to their instructions to roll him into a recovery position and check for any signs of life-threatening injuries. When they told you that you could hang up because they were close, you did so and found the man blinking at you.

"Hoi," you greeted soothingly. "Wie heisst du?"

He groaned, attempting to roll onto his back once more. You reached out a hand stopping him, and he looked up at you confused.

"Comment t'appelles tu?" You attempted, hoping he wasn't an Italian or Romansch speaker. You hardly knew enough of either language to tell him you couldn't speak it.

He winced and lifted his hand to his face. "Shit."

English. Good.

"What's your name?" you asked, and his eyes seemed to focus on you once more, this time a spark of recognition or maybe just awareness lighting up behind them.

"Joaquin," he informed, and you released an arm, allowing him to finally roll onto his back like he wanted. He had a strong American accent, even through the gravelly voice of barely regained consciousness. "Did they get away?"

"Ähm," you looked around at the empty street. "Yes?" you guessed.

He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm gonna have to call some people."

"I think you should wait for the ambulance."

"Yeah," he agreed, the word breathy and pained. "That's probably a good idea."

"What happened?" you asked, and he raised his eyebrows, looking back at you.

"Flag Smashers."

"I didn't think the Flag Smashers hurt people."

"I'm just lucky, I guess," he answered, and you smiled, letting out a small laugh. He offered a small smile as well.

You could hear the siren now, the faint sound winding its way through the curving streets of Zürich and towards the two of you. Your head turned towards the sound, as if you could trace it back to the ambulance, and gauging the distance. "They should be close," you said, returning your attention to Joaquin.

"What's your name?" he asked, and the question surprised you. Then again, if the two of you were stuck waiting for an ambulance at nine o'clock on a Sunday night, maybe a bit of small talk shouldn't have been so surprising.

"Y/N," you answered, and he repeated it.

"You're very pretty, Y/N."

The laugh escaped you on instinct, although to call it a laugh might not be the best descriptor. It was more of a surprised noise, partially exhale and a tinge of amusement added through the slight smile at the corner of your mouth.

"Thank you," you said. "You are very pretty too."

And he was, underneath the dark red and rapidly purpling injuries. He had a strong jaw and kind eyes, and even the hint of a smile he'd given earlier had made something in your chest constrict.

"I don't feel so pretty," he responded, and this time your laugh was more of a laugh, and he reached up to feel at his face. You took hold of his hand, bringing it back down and trapping it in yours.

"Pretty enough for me to hold your hand," you joked, hoping to distract him from continuing to poke and prod and break all of the rules and instructions the EMTs had given over the phone.

"Well, I got that goin' for me, I guess," he said, letting his hand relax into yours.

Headlights bathed you in a warm yellow light as flashing blue lights bounced off the surrounding buildings, illuminating the rest of the street.

There were some shouts as the doors of the ambulance opened and people poured out, running towards you and Torres. The paramedic crowded around quickly, a blonde bearded man asking  quick questions in German.

"Er spricht Englisch," you explained, and he nodded, switching languages.

It became apparent as police officers pulled up and flooded out of their cars that you were no longer needed. You stood up, backing away and letting Joaquin's hand slip through yours.

"You're not going to stay and hold my hand?" Joaquin called out to you, and you let a smile curl across your lips. Around you, people were starting to come out onto the street, lured by the sounds of the sirens and lack of shouting and general ruckus. Your eyes fell back on Joaquin who was still looking up at you, even as a paramedic flashed a light into his face.

"Maybe he can hold your hand," you said, gesturing to a paramedic who had slid into your place. Joaquin gave half a smile as you turned and left him in the hands of the professionals.

As you rounded the corner, arms full of blankets, the last person you expected to almost run into was Joaquin.

Part of the surprise was the kind that generally accompanied running into someone outside of the context you know them in. A larger part of the surprise was the fact that he was not in the hospital.

Instead, he stood before you, face swollen, bloodied and bruised, with the small white bandages of butterfly stitches above his right eye. He blinked at you, as if he was caught in the headlights.

"Pretty Joaquin," you said, surprise ringing through every part of your voice.

"Y/N."

At least his memory wasn't affected by whatever the Flag Smashers had done to him. His response time was also quicker than it had been two and a half hours ago, and he seemed all in all more present and less hazy. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here." Your own surprise and mild confusion had not quite worn off. "What are you doing here?"

For a variety of reasons, he was not the typical person who stumbled into the Zürich GRC Refugee Camp. He was both too young and too old and far more put together than a normal incomer. He didn't have that haunted look behind his eyes that made your heart wrench. He looked battered and bruised but ok.

"I need a place to stay."

Your eyes ran over his form, from his fluffy dark hair and banged up face to his bright white trainers. You lifted an eyebrow. "The hospital wouldn't take you?"

He shook his head with a sheepish grin. "It's just a broken orbital. Not much else they can do for it." Your eyebrows didn't lower and he gave half a laugh. "Trust me I'm as shocked as you are."

"I'll need you to fill out some paperwork."

He winced. "Any way that could wait until tomorrow? My head is killing me."

You stared intently at his face. Over the past four months of working at the GRC camp, you'd gotten good at reading people. You had an eye for knowing who was going to be trouble down the line and who would need some extra comfort and care. You knew who to push about their stories, and who to wait for--to be there as they slowly unraveled their tale.

So while there was a lot about pretty boy Joaquin that just didn't add up, you could see in his eyes that he could be trusted to stay the night. Just not here.

"You can't stay here without going through intake," you shook your head. "But if you really need a place to sleep, you can come with me."

"Really?" Joaquin asked, turning to follow you as you set back off towards your car, and you nodded.

"It's nothing special--just my couch. But I've been told it's very comfy."

Joaquin faltered a step, slowing down. "You're sure you want me coming and bloody-ing up your couch? I could just stay here and leave before--"

"I'll put down some papers," you said jokingly in an attempt to cut off the subject of him staying at the camp.

"Ok," he said, his voice distracted before there was a quick shuffle of footsteps and he caught back up with you. "Ok, thanks."

The two of you arrived at your car shortly thereafter, Joaquin moving to sit in the passenger seat as you dumped the blankets in the car. You came around to slip into the driver's seat, quickly backing out of the spot and setting off back home.

"So what's with all the blankets?" he asked, pulling his attention from the streets and buildings and back to you.

"We got a late donation tonight," you answered, flicking on your turn signal. "They needed someone here to help organize the drop off and then our washing machine broke, so I have to take work home with me." You smiled at the joke, but he just nodded, leaving you to wonder if maybe your English was off. The next few moments passed in quiet before you checked over at a traffic light to see if he was still awake. He was, but he looked dazed. Maybe he had been telling the truth about his head. You eyed his injuries which looked even worse in the red light. Like his entire right side of his face had been smashed.

"So what brought you to Switzerland?"

It wasn't the question you wanted to ask. You wanted to ask him what had happened with the Flag Smashers--why had they beaten him up so badly. But you weren't sure you were ready for that answer or if he'd even give it. So you asked a question you didn't care if he lied to you about.

"I was looking for someone," he said, and the light turned green, causing you to turn away and focus on your driving rather than him. Still the sentence seemed to end earlier than his thought as you could feel the weight of more words hovering between you. It was a familiar pressure in your ears and your chest, and you'd long grown accustomed to the discomfort.

Like many, Joaquin didn't give the thought words to escape on.

"A refugee?" you asked, and he wobbled his head.

"Yes and no. She survived the Snap."

"She?" A small feeling like a tight wire cord wound its way around your chest and a  warmth of embarrassment flooded the back of your neck. "Your sister? Your wife?"

"No," he shook his head. "My grandmother."

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him look at you for the first time.

"What's her name?  If she came to the camp I should know her."

"Mariana Torres," he answered, and you ran through the array of faces you'd met. There was a Mariana Böschl , but she was old enough to be his mother, not his grandmother.

You shook your head slowly. "I can check the registry tomorrow, but I don't think she's with us."

"Thanks," Joaquin said, looking back out the window at the passing city. "Were you Blipped?"

"No," you shook your head, pulling into your designated parking spot by your apartment. "I was lucky." The two of you climbed out of the car, and he met you by the trunk, pulling the blankets out before you could reach for them.

"Thank you," you said.  And he gave a small grin.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you."

You gestured with your head up the stairs, heading to your third floor apartment.

Joaquin trailed behind you, arms laden with the blankets, waiting patiently as you stopped and opened the door. "Welcome to my home," you greeted, allowing him to enter before you. Your small apartment was dark, and you flicked on the light so that Joaquin could walk further inside without running into a wall or your table. "You can put the blankets by the couch, I'll wash them tomorrow," you instructed, and he did as you suggested before wandering over to the couch.

"I think I have an extra pillow in the closet," you said.

"Great," he thanked, dropping down onto the couch.

It took a few minutes to find the pillow and put a pillowcase on top of it. By the time you walked back out to the living room, the light was still on, and so were his shoes, but he was passed out. You walked over to the sleeping boy, placing the pillow down next to the couch in case he woke up and pulling the blanket over his body, your eyes once more tracing over his injuries.

You would have to speak to Karli about the violence.

[snuggetfish]

how does majima react to someone who is absolutely fascinated by traumatic injuries? like…. ok lets try a scenario:

a trauma medicine worker (doctor, EMT/paramedic, etc.) that cautiously and softly asks to see his eye after a long time of being together. sure, they’d seen it before when he removes his eyepatch to wash his face or sleep…. but they’d never really gotten a good look at it. it seemed like a thing they should never ever ask, because they know the truth behind that injury, but…. maybe majima would understand, right? it’s their whole line of work, it would make sense, wouldn’t it? so, they carefully ask him on a certain night, making sure to word things carefully….

you’re the majima scenario expert, so…. have at it, if you’d like and it isn’t too much trouble.

All right anon, I've had a good while to think about this now...👀

Hmmm so what is really the best way to bring it up?

On the one hand, I can understand the fascination, coupled with that feeling of wanting to really know your long-term partner inside and out, to prove to Majima that he can put full trust in their love even after revealing his "ugliest" sides. But on the other hand, it's not like it's a hidden thing, always out of sight and never before mentioned. Shouldn't the curiosity have manifested earlier? Would it be weird to just ask now, out of the blue?

So the way I imagine it, they'd have to take a more roundabout way of opening the conversation.

In the evening, when the two of them are finally at home, relaxing and talking about how their day went, his partner maybe brings up a "new case they tended to today". Maybe it was a young man who'd been in an accident, resulting in traumatic eye injury... but despite their best efforts, the eye couldn't be saved. They keep the details sparse at first, mostly to gauge his reaction. Tone is key here, because there can't be pity or shock or god forbid disgust in their voice, but it can't be a joking remark either. Either of those would cause Majima to clam up or deflect with equal humour.

Maybe they instead talk about the boy's demeanor, the way he fiercely held on to his consciousness and grit his teeth through the pain. And that gives Majima a reason to interject.

"Tch, what's the point in strugglin' to stay awake 'n feel all that if doctors were already helpin' him?"

"I suppose he didn't want to die. Didn't want to fall asleep and never wake up."

"Ya don't die from a gettin' yer eyeball popped. Not usually, anyway. Did they... scramble his brain any?"

And that gives them an opening.

"No. He was lucky that way. You were too, Goro."

Now I don't think he'd want to dwell much on the details of how it happened in his case, so getting straight to the question is the better strategy from this point. A simple: "would you ever allow me to see it up close?".

It might not happen just on the spot like that, though. He'll probably shy away like he usually does.

"I know yer a skilled doc 'n all, but there ain't nothin' ya can do here. Not like it'll grow back if ya get a better look."

Discussion closed, for now. But maybe in an hour or two, when his partner offers to run them both a hot bath, with some help from the calming water and their gentle touch... he just might lean in a little closer 😊💕

[milkytheholy1]

Apocalyptic Love: Chapter 14: Home Sweet Home

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. AL series links

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Donnie's eyes widened, from the looks of the address alone you knew it meant something to him, "It's gonna be a long journey." he nagged, not quite ready to take his eyes away from the paper just yet.

"It'll be worth the drive." Raph huffed, placing the paper onto the small table so he could cross his arms, the normal Raph stance. You stepped forward from the corner you stood in, bumping past their shoulders to get a better look at the slip of paper.

Picking it up in your hands, you traced your fingertip along the crinkled corner, the paper, similar to the rest of the book, was a cream colour. Long gone were the clean white papers, all that remained was time and dirt.

"Who does this address belong to?" you asked, tone curious. You didn't recognise it as being a part of the city, and you weren't all that well adept with knowledge of the greater area surrounding New York. You had of course heard of the border, eavesdropping on random rebel members when carrying out the small riot. Yet, you had never once thought about researching the topic, finding out more information. Although, you supposed if you did you'd also find a jail cell with your name on it.

The Foot didn't want people to leave, didn't want them to have a free life. No. No, they wanted to rule, to take control.

"How did you even get this?" Donnie's voice cut your empty thinking, blinking back into a harsh reality you saw the two chatting away, one question after another.

"Does it matter how I got it? Look, the important thing is we know where he is, that means we got a safe house away from the city!" Raph argued, he had been dodging the questions rather easily, either he was really good at lying or he was scared of telling the truth.

Donnie shook his head, running all possible scenarios through his brain, "No, you can't have just gotten it, who gave it to you?" he was particular about it, he didn't want to fall into another trap, another false hope. Raph turned his back to Donnie, moving to grab the paper on the table, "I thought you'd be happy about this! Finally a sense of somethin' normal, you'd both get to talk about Ap-"

"Don't." Donnie threatened, a metal finger raising to poke Raph's chest. Donnie's eyes held hatred, but a soft sadness lingered there too. Donnie remained quiet after that, too caught up in his own mind and memories, you and Raph waited. Hoping for him to waver back into existence, into the present, into the now.

"Ok, but who is this mystery guy we keep talkin' ab-"

"Raph, even if we were going to do this, it's too risky. We'd need a plan at the very least." Donnie cut you off, eyes closed, finger rubbing his chin. Your brows furrowed, irritated by the intrusion, "Why is it too risky? Who is-"

"I got a plan, we leave this dump then go there. See? Easy." Raph boasted, a proud smirk on his face. Even though you had no clue what they were referring to, you and Donnie both stared dumbfounded at the turtle in front of you.

"What?" you questioned, although you didn't intend to say it out loud.

"We can't just go on foot, that would take too long. We'd be caught by Karai before we even left the city's limits." Donnie reasoned, Raph threw his arms in the air, aggravated, "Well, what do ya suppose we do?"

"Hmm, I've got an idea...but it might be dangerous," Donnie hummed, looking between you both to gauge your reactions. Raph's angered frown suddenly formed into a smirk, fists clashing together with an eager look in his eyes, "I like dangerous," he beamed.

"How dangerous are we talking here, Don?" you asked, weird how you were currently the voice of reason, now you knew how Leo felt all this time.

"We need to go to the lair, I can get what we need from my old lab."

"The lair? Donnie are you insane, wait let me rephrase that, Donnie you're insane!" Raph screamed, eyes frantic, "We can't go back to the lair, they nearly shot Mikey last time we got close to that place."

"I know, I know. But, if we want a chance to get outta here then we need to go back to the lair, it's our only chance."

"Ooh, you guys have a lair, that sounds so cool!" the severity of the situation hadn't quite hit you yet, you had practically dulled out their worry about being shot and was instead focused on the idea of a lair, a hideout, a secret cove. You had always wanted one as a kid, just to go and sit alone for hours at a time.

"It was cool, for a while at least. We spent most of our lives growing up in that place, I learnt how to build my first engine there." Donnie mused, welling up at the memory of it, "We learned how to fight and work together in the dojo, and Mikey learnt how to cook down there. He he, and all the times Raph chased Leo around the t.v because he beat his score in pinball."

"What happened to it?" you asked, Donnie opened his mouth to speak but Raph cut him off. Grabbing a sai from his hip holster, Raph stabbed the weapon into the wooden table, leaving the metal standing with splinters surrounding it.

"The Kraang and Foot attacked us after the bomb went off two years ago. They didn't know if we died or not, we were able to get them all before they could tell Karai we were alive." he seethed, pent up anger and frustration coursing through his veins.

"The Foot destroyed it, just like how they destroy everything," he whispered out, head sulking towards his feet. You stepped towards him, placing a gentle hand against his right shoulder, "Raph" you breathed out, but he shrugged you off. Pushing away, he grabbed the sai and moved to the exit, "C'mon, we betta get movin' before they start patrols."

--

The sewers were the last place you'd think could hold a super-cool hideout, the smell alone put you off. Raph had took lead since he was the self-appointed leader of your merry group, Donnie wading behind you, it was like a protective muscle sandwich.

The tunnels felt endless, any horror could reach out a clutch you, drag you away to never be seen again. The dark didn't help ease your mind either, only intensifying the feeling of being watched, but you had to trust the turtles; afterall, they claimed to know this place like the back of their shell.

"Aah, nothing like the smell of the sewers," Donnie teased, breathing in the air like it was nothing but fresh. You gawked at him, finding it a mistake when the fumes engulfed your mouth, you're never going to get used to this smell, hell, you're never going to be able to get this smell out of your clothes.

You assumed you were getting closer to the entrance, rusted metal you assumed were the Kraang and Footbots, the brothers spoke of, littered the tunnels. Before you had realised it, you were out of the sewers and into an abandoned subway station, yet the smell still lingered.

Donnie and Raph took lead together, their eyes going white, it sent a shiver down your spine. You seemed to recall seeing their eyes like that before, on the day you met if you remembered correctly, the big fight in Time's Square. It was creepy then and it sure as hell was creepy now. With their weapons drawn and raised, they scouted the large entrance, easily flipping over to the turnstiles. You peaked past the bricked wall and caught them rolling about the floor, ducking their heads into rooms then coming back out again and moving onto the next one.

"All clear," Raph huffed, standing straight but still on the defensive, though he had to admit it was nice seeing this place again. You finally took a step into the lair, your eyes instantly drawn to the concrete seats and punctured beanbags.

"Woah, this place looks awesome." you gasped, finger writing in the dust that settled onto the pinball machine, the legendary pinball machine from what Donnie had said. The glass was cracked, red splotches covering the whole thing, gruesome.

"Yeah, well it looked a lot betta when it wasn't totally trashed," Raph spoke, falling onto the concrete couch like it was a natural instinct, hands thrown behind his head as he relaxed. Donnie had been quiet this whole time, too busy staring around the place, inspecting it for traps. He walked up the steps to the dojo, the pools that were usually a dark blue colour tinged green and brown, "Ugh," he groaned.

"Hey, Raph! A little help?" he asked, trying and failing to budge open the dojo doors, "Something must have broken from the inside, I'd repair it but there's really no point." Raph had stomped up next to him, cracking his knuckles then getting to work. You watched as the boys heaved the door open, pushing and pulling with all their strength, eventually, the door gave way and opened.

"This is where you guys trained?" you said astounded, eyes gleaming at the dusted weapons held to the wall. Raph rolled his eyes but acted nonchalantly about the whole thing, "Yeah, we pretty much had the best."

"Would you guys ever teach me how to use some of this stuff?"

"Pfft, nah." Raph laughed, leaning against the willowed tree, no leaves gracing any branch with their beauty, "I mean, I wouldn't, bet Don would though." You turned to face the turtle mentioned, watching as he was caught in a longing gaze with a metal fan on the ground.

"Donnie?" you questioned, he crouched onto his knees, feeling that familiar sting of tears in his eyes. With his right hand, he traced over the now blunt edges of the fan, unaware of the eyes following his every movement. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging his brain to not cry, he promised himself he wouldn't.

"Donatello?"

He stood straight, turning his back on the fan and moving to his lab, the familiar clatter of the door opening was all Raph needed to know. Turning back to Raph, you questioned him with your eyes before using your words, "What was that all about, is he okay?" Raph's gaze flickered to the black fan, slowly turning red with rust, "It's...a long story."

You urged him to continued, Raph rolled his head back, apprehensive, "We knew anotha' human, her name was April, she was the first human to ever see us. We saved her dad a few times from the Kraang, she and Donnie sorta had a thing goin' on, she was trainin' to become a kunoichi; pretty good at it too. She was in the lab where the bomb went off, she...didn't make it. We all took it pretty hard, we lost a lot that day, but Donnie took it the hardest."

"Oh, Raph I'm so sorry,"

Raph wiped his wrist against his eyes, quickly drying up the fallen tears and masking his emotions, "Nah, there wasn't anything we could do, shit happens and we move on, right?" You shook your head, knowing the feeling of loss pretty well by now, "Right," you confirmed.

"AHAHAHAHAH! YESSSS! OH BABY YES!" cheers came from Donnie's lab, the genius himself poking his head out to tell you all to get a move on. You and Raph ran to the lab, dodging all the debris on the floor to get there in one piece. You didn't have time to marvel at all the sights, your eyes already drawn to the biggest thing in the room.

"Woah," you gaped, eyes twinkling in it's heavenly light. Donnie stood to the side, wide grin on his face showcasing his gap tooth quite nicely, his arms were held high pointing to the massive truck like carriage. Raph stepped towards his brother, fingers running over the cracked spraypaint, "Don, you had this here this whole time!" he roared, waking you up slightly.

Donnie shook his head repeatedly, justifying his actions, "Well, yes and no. You see, I had taken the Shellraiser-"

"The Shellrasier, ugh, that's such a rad name!" you praised, Donnie smiled but silenced you quickly so he could carry on, "Shhh, but thank you. Anyway, I had taken the Shellraiser out a few days after, we'll call it the end, but the Foot noticed it straight away and shot at me. Soo, I brought it back here to fix her up when a bunch of Kraang came from nowhere and chased me out. I left her in defence mode, no one could get in or out unless they had a key."

"Please tell me ya got the key?" Raph chided, already bored. Donnie scoffed and pulled his left arm in front of him and aimed a fingertip at the lock, instantly his index finger changed and adjusted to the shape; giving him easy access inside. The door opened wide, the smell taking you all back a few steps, "I should have expected that to happen," Donnie hissed, coughing out the taste of rotten pizza.

You gave the Shellraiser a once over, the outside had a few dents and scorch marks, the paintwork was patchy and peeling off, she needed some love. Donnie leaned against the bonnet, arms folded over his chest in confidence, "I can get this bad boy running in no time!" he then patted the side, a loud clang echoed around the lair as something dropped to the floor, "Ahaha, did I say no time, I meant a few hours."

[we-dragons]

I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 8 Damian x reader

The school is shut down for a week ironically because of an attack by The Joker and Two-Face, that Robin and his team took down. The teachers sent out a notice with homework attached and told us to stay inside. Nightmare came back somewhere in the morning I couldn't tell the time because I apparently fell asleep along with Boy Wonder before the end of season 1 of The Highlander. I gently placed him down on the couch, gotten dressed, and made some breakfast, I only had eggs so I made some scrambled and put them on a plate for him and me. Nightmare got the last of the bacon. I put a plate over Robins while I ate mine sitting at the small table in the kitchen going over my homework. Sadly I finished my homework before my eggs and they have gone cold. I silently morn my eggs eating the cold carcass. "You stare any harder at that screen and you might break it." I jump, my head shoots upwards and I sigh, but then my eyes drop on my cat. My jaw drops the furball is purring in the arms of a masked stranger who is petting his head. Robin was petting my cat holding him like a baby and the demon is purring. Robin still had his eyes, and limbs not even a bite mark was seen on his skin.

"You traitor, you barely know him." I playful scold the feline, he meows nuzzling his face in Robin's chest.

"Your monster seems friendly."

"Nightmare looks like he's been introduced to catnip."

"Just a few scratches here and there." He smirks taking a seat next to me."Thank you for breakfast."

"Mhm." I turn back to the screen, "Will you be going back today Robin?"

"I might."

"Hmm." I finish the last problem for today closing the device, "Well I have to go to work, your welcome to stay if you want." I smooth out my clothes tossing one last look at the melting ball of fur. I quirk an eyebrow but move out to the door. I stop Halfway through the doorway and look back putting on my meanest face. "If you break a single window in my home I will find where ever you are and break you. Bye Nightmare, love you, I'll be back in a few hours."

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"Nightmare! I'm back!" my keys skitter across the floor but no black fur is seen. He's still in the arms of Robin though it's not Robin, Green eyes. My stomach sinks and my mouth goes dry. "Damian?" His is just as much shock as me, he puts down Nightmare and rushes to me the door slams behind me. And I'm being dragged then forced to sit, his hands grip my shoulders. "Your early, why did you arrive early, you not supposed to be back for another half hour." I hardly heard him, I scold myself now realizing the obvious. Why else would Nightmare feel comfortable around him he had been here before multiple times noticed how I treated Damian and that's why he was a purring mess in his arms. I said be nice to him when he was over not Robin, but of course, they smell the same Nightmare associated with both people. I should have spotted it sooner, the voice, the height, the tone of his speech. Dear God, I can mom telling how oblivious, like she did when she won Clue. It was right there, he asked the right question and baited me for answers. I don't know why this is a shock to me. Now that I think of it I have to stop myself from laughing

"What the hell," my voice quivers. "Damian, Damian Wayne. You help Gotham." I start snickering, pulling my hand over my face. I throw my head back laughing then fall over to the side. "Nightmare you knew didn't you! Haha, that's why you were you were melting like butter."

"Your laughing!"

"Did you assume I wouldn't!" I wheeze, my breath nearly coming out to form words. "I can imagine you fighting, but saving people that's something else entirely."

"Do you think so little of me?" He sounds disappointed.

"I don't mean it to offend you but what else can I say. I didn't expect this." I sit up, clearing my throat and looking him dead in the eye. "Can I just call you Damian now, or do I still have to you different names."

"Why aren't you more surprised?"I Smile sadly.

"I thought you would have read up on me, do you know who killed my parents that day at home." He stiffens, he opens his mouth but continues. "My Father's sister, my aunt, killed them both during dinner. All because my mother wouldn't let her see those journals you asked about. After that it many people took off their masks."

"That's all it took?"

"What should it take, she killed her own brother because she didn't get confidential knowledge. To be honest, I don't really care anymore."

"You need professional help." I shrug.

"Probably, but getting sessions is expensive and I don't enjoy answering "and how are you feeling?" questions. I had enough of that already from everyone else."

"Where's your brother, Emil?" I feel myself frown.

"He's with someone I trust, I can't tell you who, sorry."

"The file says you died, you also made a miraculous recovery, recovery from what?"

"I prefer not to answer that question, It's rather personal." I don't want to explain that either, I know the doctor was shocked to see me come back. They had to call the professor to have him take me and my brother. After that this entire fiasco.

"You know I'll find out either way."

"Listen, I don't know how I made it, I was tortured by my she who will not be named and left for dead. I prayed for anyone and everyone who would hear me, someone did, the police found me and I was rushed to the hospital. I decided to take a nap, and I woke up to the sound of Emil crying. He cried, even more, when I woke up, screaming even, the good doctor nearly fainted. I was plugged into wires of all sorts, and my uncle was holding a plug, I assume he pulled, tackled me. My body lit up in pain and felt like I was run over, the next I am separated from my family and rushed into a place where they check on me every three months. At least I got to choose the place, they pay for the school, and I cover everything else." I give in, it feels nice to tell someone, something even if it's not the whole truth. But it seems to shut him up. "Please don't go looking for Emil, they haven't caught my aunt yet. I don't know if she's looking for them next, I would prefer not to stand over another grave knowing she got them too." I stare at him gauging his reaction, his face is still stone, unmoving in the uncomfortable silence. I pick up Nightmare, who has been rubbing against my leg for a bit, and scratch his head as he wants.

"Fine, I won't push further but I have terms."

"Really?" What would he need terms for?

"1, you don't reveal my identity to anyone. 2, you will not acknowledge that you know my family’s identities. 3, I come whenever I like as Robin or as Damian. 4, I add terms whenever I please."

"Why would I agree to any of that? I'm the one who has your identity." He smiles.

"Because I will tell Batman this information, and he doesn't talk as kindly to people hiding something. You obviously still are, but for now, I'll let it slide I'm sure by now you've decided to watch the news, so you know what he does." I gulp, I did see his more recent victim and he looked traumatized.

"Alright fine, but I binge so if you fall asleep tough luck, I'm not going back."

"Fine," he reaches back and pulls out his mask which he puts back on, walking out to the kitchen. "I back in a bit, pull out your couch bed while I'm gone. I will be staying here a while." I get up after him.

"Hey, that offer is for when I thought you were some homeless bums who fights crime, gets money from villain's wallets. You have a perfectly good bed at home!" He turns back one foot on the railing and a grappling hook in hand. "Term 6, I will stay as long as I like." he jumps off like before, not giving me a chance to speak.

"Bastard! I need my alone time!" He's gone I don't even know if he heard me. I grumble pulling out the spare sheets and blankets to set up the bed. "He better be paying rent, smug rich kid."

"Meow." Nightmare looks over at the window Robin left of.

"Yes, he's coming back."

"Meow"

"No, I'm not going tell him, not until I have to."

"Merrow"

"Shut up." I kick the side of the couch holding the two large cushions that lay on it, the bed springs out and makes a satisfying thud on the floor. "Go and see if the data has finished downloading, then put it back in the box I'll make you something in a how you feel about tuna our downstairs grandparents gave me a can."

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The sheets are made, the cat is fed and now I am going over how I was going to cover for another person. How much would he eat, can he survive on pastries, ramen, and eggs. How long was he staying, would his family come asking about him seeing as he was here before. At both times, when he broke my window, and when they came for coffee.

"Hey, open the door." The voice is cold but still recognizable. I get up slowly taking my time getting there along with opening the door. He hurries in, dressed in some normal-ish clothes that still look expensive, but he still dressed like he came out of a photo shoot. He not only has a suitcase but some grocery bags, I frown at those. He seems to notice because he forgets his suitcase and charges into the kitchen. "Hey!"

"Y/N I am not eating ramen and eggs for god knows how long. I will cook a decent meal and you will have something healthy."

"How did you know I only had eggs and ramen?"

"I went through your fridge," He places a bag of tomatoes in the bottom drawer where I see green onions and various other veggies.

"I make stir-fry once a month, you have bought enough greens and reds to make that for two weeks. I don't even have rice."

"You don't like it when people spend money on you, do you?"

"I don't need other people's money," He opens his mouth, but I stop him raising a finger cutting him off. "And before you mention Molly, she remains the exception. Not that me telling her not to stops her."

"And why is that." He stops putting the food in the fridge.

"Because I've been friends with her longer," I look back at his bags and frown. "How long do you plan on staying again."

"For as long as I please."

"Won't they come looking for you? Your family I mean, the Detective stops by almost every day."

"Grayson won't be a problem, I left them a trail that leads to several other places." He stuffs the last of the food in the fridge, getting up and looking out the balcony window. "Should take a long while." I can hear the smugness in his voice.

"Your happy you tricked your brothers aren't you." He turns around forcing himself to frown but the corners of his lips twitch.

"Ho, you're a bastard Wayne."

"You're really gonna curse me?"

"You didn't tell me I couldn't Damian." I grab my computer and open Hulu putting on Star Trek; Next-generation where I left off. "Hope you enjoy space adventure, because I'm not starting this over its seven seasons and 4 movies. I'm halfway through season 3, if you want context just ask." I glance up signaling that I am waiting for a response, he leans on the wall in front of my kitchen. I can't read his face, but his face of neutral displeasure wasn't much better. "So, your done feeling good about yourself, or is there something else you need."

"It's been something I've been wondering for a while now, those iridescent pieces you fed me."

"Part of my mother's work." Not a complete lie,

"Was that what those missing journals about?"

"No." More of a lie but not wrong. He groans anyway, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Man, you really like to cut in deep and waste time. Just come here and watch some Star Trek with me I need someone else to groan in pain about Counselor Troy's and Will Riker's on and off slow burn romance." Begrudgingly he walks over plopping down next to me.

"Your tastes in tv are odd."

"You have no idea, my tastes in something go everywhere, after this and Highlander I have several old cartoons next. First, I might have to gather what you know about the Quack pack, Goof troop, Ducktales, and all that pizazz. Though I have a feeling that you would like Darkwing Duck more, or it could possibly be too relatable." He gives me a look.

"How could I relate to a duck?"

"We are a long way from that now, at the moment we must bear witness to Captain Picard and his adventures commanding the USS Enterprise."

"Has anyone told you how unbelievably weird you are?"

"Sir, you have entered my life for what looks to be the long run. You will experience the kind of weirdness only Molly has ever seen. But now that you are basically my roommate you might see more." I pat his shoulder. "So, buckle up, because this is now you've got a seat on this roller-coaster, and you can't get off till the car reaches a complete stop. Now can we please get back to the show I want to see some cosmic action?"

_____________________________________________________________

"Was that a statement or a question?"

"He can achieve the perception of feeling with a chip that goes into his hyper-advanced brain, lets his brother take it but can't make his own."

"I lent you my computer to catch up to where I left off for one night and that's what you're hung upon."

"Yes," his eyes look serious while he shoves some oatmeal in his mouth. "You are the one who can't stand the slow burn."

"Touche."

Before we got to the last season, Damian had asked he could see the rest of the show before the finally. I didn't expect that he would binge because it was a weekend, he even made extensive notes on character weakness. He still went out on patrol every night but came back with no one tailing him. That's what he says at least. He looks tired, with bags under his eyes and just lacking energy altogether.

"While I'm at work please go to sleep, you look like you fought an energy vampire and lost."

"I wouldn’t have lost to a vampire, they’re not that hard to kill.”

“But they drink blood they need to get close; energy vampires are more psychic they don’t even have to be a real monster.” He stops eating/

“How so?”

“They could be emotionally, physically, and mentally draining people. You know like Deity Skimmer, the girl in our science class. You can’t kill the energy-sucking vibes she gives off, can you.” He snorts behind his hand.” I mean it, even creatures of the night need sleep.” I drop my dishes off in the sink. I walk off to the door putting on my boots, I hear the chair slide and I feel his judging eyes digging holes in the back of my skull.

“Once again your conditions said nothing about teasing you, suck it up.” He scoffs. “I’ll be back around 5, don’t break any more windows while I’m gone.” I close the door before I hear any remarks once more about the incident. Though I laugh to myself, I straighten out my outfit and head down to the wonderful smells of the coffee shop. I walk slowly down the stairs looking out to the crowd that had been seated in the lounge. My managers were out by the couches talking to one of the regulars. Pull me behind the counter and relieve my coworker Meg, she looks exhausted and excuses herself. She takes what I assume is her coffee and puts away her apron and rushes out the door. I finish out what she didn’t clean and wait for anyone to come up to the counter. *Ring* though it is loud I hear the bell for the door ring.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment, I need to clean the nozzle here.”

“That’s fine, I can wait.” I flinch but catch myself, so it looks like I flicked something. I turn around with the best smile I can pull off. The sleep-deprived brother of Damian, peers at me from under his hair a frown tugging on his face.

“Oh hey! You came here with detective Grayson last time. Is there anything you would like?”

“Coffee.”

“Any particular kind?”

“Anything that will keep me from sleeping on this counter.” He knocks on the surface twice.

“I Can recommend our D&D potion bottle, it’s a personal favorite of the owners.”

“Why not, how much?” He fumbles around for his pockets, I stop him.

“How about, I make get it for you, and then you pay.” He brings his hands back on the counter and nods.

“I will only be a few minutes, please make yourself comfortable.” I pull out the ingredients for our powerful concoction, the pho fried ice cream, a large potion bottle with a straw, and 20-sided dice. I place the potion bottle in front of him and the ice cream but hand him the dice. He stares at the shiny plastic unmoving.

“I would roll that.” He does what I say and lands on a nine. “Well, sir after this one you can either have another potion or chose two desserts of any kind from our display or menu.” He takes a sip from the straw rather slow; his eyes perk up a bit.

“How Much did you say this was?”

“Oh! That will be $9.23?” He pulls out the exact amount, and I put it away in the register, placing it in the compartment marked D&D.

“And I would like another one of these to go.”

“Sure, would you like it now or before you go?”

“Well now should be nice, I’m leaving in just a bit.” I pull out a cup that is relatively the same size as the potion bottle. I go to give him his cup and notice that he finished the bottle and ice cream. Confusion hits me, but I don’t stare too long to turn to clean the mess. “Have you seen Damian at all?” And there it was.

“No, not since the Gala? Did something happen?”

“There was a…disagreement so he ran out, but if you see him,” He handed me a piece of paper with a string of numbers and an email. “Tell me. That is my number and email.” He does not say anymore and walks out the door, the bell signaling his departure.

_____________________________________________________________

When I got back, I told Damian what happened, he isn’t pleased and is currently pacing the floor.

“My guess is that he knows.” I sigh over my tea and stare sadly at the replaced window.

“No doubt.”

“You know I was rather hoping not to be having another visit from the Batman. What will happen when they find out that I know about the caped crusader thing.”

“He’ll either force into secrecy, turn you into a child crusader, or confine you to the manor.”

“So in other words no privacy.”

“None.”

“As lovely as that would be you told me this was temporary, so why can’t you go back?”

“At the Gala I was supposed to keep you entertained at the table so that we could trap you into to talking about those journals.” I knew it.

“So, you lied to me.” I look at him, faking shock and betrayal.

“It was for the sake of the investigation; I didn’t think that I would end up-.” He examines my expression and face palms. “What’s wrong with you.”

“I like to call it “I laugh in the face of danger” Syndrome, in a moment of despair I crave comedy.”

“You're worse than Grayson.”

“I like him, so I’ll let this one slide.” I sip the warm liquid feeling soothed at the pumpkin spice. “What are you going to do now?” Nightmare jumps on the table noticing my concern and waiting for his answer from me. He walks to the corner where he put his bag then went to the closet pulling out my suitcase. He then grabs his outfit Robin outfit from the coat rack and his other materials. “Get packed, we’re leaving. I’ll grab Nightmare’s things gab whatever you need. And I mean need, don’t pick it up unless it’s necessary.”

“What? I can’t just leave, what about my job? School?!” He Pulls out my backpack and puts some food in it. “Damian!”

“Just trust me, I’ll take care of it! I don’t want you tangled up in my family’s nonsense.” He looks at me something odd swirling in his eyes. “Please.”

“Fine,” I grab my suitcase and pack my box and my compiece which hasn’t gotten back to me on its progress. I throw a few sets of clothes. I open the box to make sure the journals, the scales, and everything else, then I hide it under the clothing and my laptop in the front pocket. I thank myself for making sure to get a suitcase that has a double use as a backpack. In the living room, Damian is all packed the bag is strapped across his chest and he’s holding Nightmare.

“Let’s go.” He hands me Nightmare and pulls me to the balcony. He pulls out and belts with a ring pultruded out on one side swiftly put it around me connecting the loop to his belt. “Hold on tight, and don’t let go till I tell you.” I Sling an arm around him and grip on to Nightmare, he doesn’t hesitate and shoots across the balcony with his grappling gun. I screw my eyes shut. And wait to stop, my heart beats wildly in my chest Nightmare begins purring maybe in hopes to soothe me. I feel something wrong, but it would mean I was away from the Crows. I’m running again, even if it’s not me who chose this it still feels wrong. Because in the direction he’s going it seems that we were leaving Gotham. And for some reason, I feel like it would be a while before I returned.

[whatisalifeihaveablog]

Word of Honor episode 2 (part 2)

-Synchronization AND aesthetics on point!!! A+ for this awesome shot

-I'm gonna say right now that if the old man dies here I will not be nearly as sad as I would be if the kid dies. Ideally no one dies but you know lol you never know. I also have no idea how old "the kid" is supposed to be. Like he seems to be younger than the rest of them but I'm terrible at gauging these things.

-Welcome to the party annoying whip girl! I was actually feeling quite tense there for a moment lmao And like, I'm sure I will get over it with time but right now every time she pouts and uses that particular tone of voice I kind of want to scream. In these situations she seems okay.

-We're a good way though episode 2 and so far I am consistently loving the fight sequences in this show! They're fast paced and interesting but there has not yet been a point where I've felt like I lost track of the action and gotten confused

-AGAIN WITH THE CATCHING BLOOD ON HIS SWORD THING MY DUDE ARE YOU THAT AGAINST GETTING A LITTLE BLOOD ON YOU OR AM I MISSING SOMETHING

-This bitch really just be appearing places where did you come from my guy

-After being a bit aimless it looks like we have a mission! A starting mission at least and since it's being given to you by a dying man you really can't turn it down with a clear conscious, can you?

-On the other hand he's already holding the weight of a lot of shit and having the fate of this kid being put in his hands probably feels like a lot and not entirely in line with how he views himself and the actions he's taken in the past

-RIP old dude, I wish I was better at remembering names so that sounded like less of a joke

-Wen Ke Xing. Wen Ke Xing. I like him enough right off the bat that I gotta commit that to memory. Watch me forget it by the next episode though lmao

-Right on the money my guy!! And of course he's not going to give you a response though. My question is how much exactly do you know/have you figured out about him?

-Look the tension Wen Ke Xing brings to his scenes is so good but also YES CALL THIS BITCH OUT

-I have no commentary, just this face

Episode 2 was better than the first! The first episode had a really great first half and lost me a bit in the second half but this one kept me engaged the whole way through. Dynamics between the characters are emerging nicely and intrigue is still high. I may watch episode 3 today as well, but it also might have to wait until tomorrow. We'll have to see

[long-gone-dream]

The question sounded as though it was a surprise, but Shay couldn't gauge why it could possibly be a surprise. The eagerness that she had shown, trying to learn all the motions that Athena was guiding her through, it had to be some indication that she hadn't ever been like that with anyone before. She couldn't even say that she had gotten much farther than mild groping with Cal. How was she supposed to play it off as if it didn't mean anything monumental? "Its kind of embarrassing, isn't it? I've never been interested in the action of it, all the messy details and the hands everywhere. But, one day spent with you and I feel like it's natural. I understand why people make such a big deal about it, because I wanted you to touch me as soon as we started dancing."

Within an instant she felt better, less guilty for being so inquisitive and unsure. Athena was persistent on sticking to her word, and she wouldn't ask any more silly questions that had already been answered. Shay glided her slender fingers across the woman's arm, ending the venture at the hand that cupped her cheek. "I want to keep seeing you, I'm just a mess. I can't stop thinking about how maybe things will be different in the city. My brain is just wired to think of all the things that can go wrong." Lifting the others hand, Shayfer guided it to her lips, kissing the brunettes knuckles gently to occupy her lips with anything other than talking.

long-gone-dream‌:

There it was, the suggestion that men were different. Of course, Shay didn’t have the first idea what she had done to make the other think she had been with anyone else. Her answer made enough sense though, claiming differences between different people and the difference of sexes. Men weren’t the future however, she didn’t have to begin thinking about that. “First time with a woman, sure. I think I’ll skip out on the waste of time that would be finding out how different a man is though. Lying to myself about men is something I think I’ll never be able to do again.” As soon as her cheek was graced with such a gentle show of affection, something she seemed to crave without knowing it, Shayfer allowed her eyes to close. Only for a second, enjoying the closeness and promise of seeing her after they left the sand behind for the city. As soon as the other began to question the motivation behind her inquiry however, she allowed an eye to open and peek out at the brunette. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I just..” Shay moved in close, pressing her nose in against the underside of the other’s jaw. “I just wanted to hear it again, reassurance.” She murmured under her breath, as if it would keep Athena from hearing something so desperate falling from her lips. Her intention wouldn’t be to insult her, of course. After a few light, slow kisses against her neck, she breathed out a sigh on her skin. “I’m sorry.”

At Shay’s words, Athena watched her a moment, trying to figure out if it meant what she assumed. And after a quite pensive second, the brunette opened her mouth to ask, “You haven’t been with a man? So this was–your first time?” It would have truly stunned her if this was her first time at all. She was so responsive. She was so reactive. And she’d taken all of Athena’s cues so well during the act. 

And as the conversation switched then to Athena’s promise, she instantly felt bad for calling Shay out for asking the question again. It truthfully wasn’t meant to make her feel bad. She’d just wanted Shay to know that Athena was true to her word. But that would be proven once they got back to the city and started to really see more of each other. And as Shay kissed her neck and muttered her apology again, Athena cupped the woman’s face, pulling her in for a slow and sweet kiss. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry,” she whispered. “I just want you to know that I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep. I want to keep seeing you. And I will when we get home.”