#this probably needs more editing but im impatient

[vivanightcity]

Name: Didier Travert

Age: 33

Gender + pronouns: Man, he/him

Occupation: Media. Boots on ground even for his day job at WNS, where it’s mostly following around politicians or corpo press conferences, or at most, a bit of light espionage and breaking into corpo offices. Prefers his moonlighting, where being in the field means chasing down NCPD alerts, recording firefights and clashes, and what goes on behind them, all with his old cam. Written up and posted online anonymously. 

Cyberware: His left eye is a cybereye with MicroVideo and TeleOptic enhancements - but paid for by WNS and designed to be undetectable under most visual inspections to get away with discreet recording. Also has an audio suite with a recorder, scrambler and sound amplifier. 

Sexuality: Bi

He was sent out by WNS to work in the city after it became the ‘free’ international city it was. A hub of corporate control and even more rampant political corruption than he grew up with. In case the name wasn’t a tip off, Didi isn’t an NC native. He’s from Bordeaux. One of two kids, with a mother who entered into politics after a protest she helped organize, turned into a riot she also helped instigate, gained a lot of attention. When you realize you want to be a media because of riots and unrest, and you’re raised keeping your head on a swivel and not believing shit you’re told by authority, you grow up knowing you’re living in interesting times with plenty that needs bringing to the surface. 

Despite all that, Night City was still one hell of a culture shock. For most of his life, corps haven’t had a particularly strong strangle-hold on his home. Present, sure, but ousted in all the ways they show off in NC. Not allowed to be so blatant, so violent, so involved. Not that life is peachy without them, his early days as a reporter was just video of frequent physical fights and violence in government buildings over the most ridiculously mundane decisions. 

The cybereye and optical cyberware are all technically property of WNS. Meaning, if he loses his job, he loses the eye. They also get access to whatever footage is recorded from it, nearly immediately, uploaded through their secure net connections the second he’s in range, so he can’t record anything he isn’t happy with higher ups, or potentially, the general public seeing. Hence using the head mounted cam for his personal work. 

Earns a decent amount in his job, and came from what I’d call a middle class background. Not buy and sell you wealthy by any means, but he can buy you a very nice dinner without having to look at the prices. 

A big believer in the power of a brick, a molotov, and a large group full of righteous anger, to get things done. Wants to tell stories that make people care and pay attention, or show them that how things are, aren’t ‘normal’ or universal, and that they can change. Not that he sees that ever happening in NC, fuck no, he’s got enough sense to see a city that’s set in its ways and it would take a lot to shock it out of rhythm. Which might be why he latches on to Ivan, Adiel, and the relic, the second there are rumors. Maybe it wont be enough, but at the very least, the answer to ‘Where’s Johnny?’, would hopefully get enough eyes on the story to make a few more people question. Plus, come on, who could resist? 

My god do i ship him and River. They compliment each other so well. The two of them running into each other on and off over the years, and then it's when Didi's working with Ivan, tagging along on the first job from the Peralez's, and it's the first time they really connect on a non-work level. Then he's the one who runs around with River doing that quest line. Probably a good thing cause neither Adiel nor Ivan would let the kids win the AR game.

[monotone-artist]

[id in alt]

marivam my new child marivam!!!!! adopt i got from @dieselpvnk i am VERY excited about them!! thinking that they're a kind of witch character who brews magical potions, not 100% sure yet though

[chellestrash]

Private Matters

Chapter VI

Cam!Boy Frank Castle x Female Reader

Story summary: After stumbling upon a cam website one night you quickly discover your favorite streamer. Unable to get the thoughts and images of him out of your mind you decide to become a supporter and the two of you grow closer to each other over time. Things get complicated when your close friend, neighbor, and crush decides to express his feelings for you.

Chapter summary: Forced to take care of yourself on your own after Frank left for work you decide on some help from a certain someone. Some time later you meet up with your neighbor and he does his best to prove to you how bad he left for leaving you hanging the last time.

Chapter warnings: explicit language, explicit content, smut, porn, masturbation, public sex, oral sex, teasing, pet names and more stuff like that

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: Okay SO...long time no see...but it's out now! I hope you guys didn't forget this story yet, im going to finish it i promise, and I'll try to get the next chapter out a lot faster than this one. Reblogs and feedback are oh so welcome and thank you for reading! Hope you'll enjoy this one. Thank you @chelseasdagger for proofreading and helping with editing this one! Love you!

Ejoy!

Series Masterlist

So there you were, laying on your living room couch in an overwhelming silence that highlighted how lonely your apartment currently felt. With your leg falling off the seat and your eyes stuck on the ceiling above, you let the next couple of minutes pass you by, quietly reminiscing on the feeling of Frank's touch, somehow still present on your skin. Dragging your palm down your face, you sigh loudly, hoping the frustration and disappointment of the situation leaves with the breathed out air. Your eyes drop, focusing on the front door that closed behind your favorite neighbor just a moment prior. Your brain, against your will, focuses back on what could've happened if the alert on his phone hadn’t, rudely, interrupted the plans you two had for the rest of the afternoon.

Grabbing your phone, you check the notification quickly but there's nothing really worth your time.

With no further plans for the day occupying your mind, you scroll for a bit, hoping to distract your mind and make the feeling between your legs disappear before it's too late. 

With a loud sigh, you adjust your position on the couch, letting your legs fall open slowly as you close your eyes and try your best not to let your mind slip back to Frank. Unsuccessfully. 

With your eyes closed, your mind begins to wander, wander back to the touch that previously left your body so abruptly. The way Frank's fingers felt, brushing over your skin gently but impatiently. The way he pulled you closer, not wanting this moment to slip away from you, and his lips. God, his lips. Your hips shift slightly at the memory when a barely audible moan escapes your mouth. Brushing the side of your neck gently with your fingertips, you trace over the trail of kisses he left on your skin.

“God.”

You grunt, opening your eyes after realizing how dumb what you're doing had to look. After debating on texting Frank, you ultimately decide that sending him a 'Hi, I'm horny now and need your help,’ in the middle of his work day was probably not the smartest move at this point in…whatever the hell you two had going on together.

“So fucking stupid.”

You mumble, quickly unlocking your phone, knowing god-damn well what page you need to open to deal with this whole thing. You sigh, rubbing your fingers over your eyes once “The Punisher” shows up in the suggested searches before you even have the time to type out the whole name of the page. You shake your head and click on the link that takes you right where you needed to be.

You scroll past the introduction that you've previously had time to familiarize yourself with on one of your visits to the site and glance over the thumbnails for new content. Your eyes freeze for a second as you scan over the title of the nearest livestream, “highly requested”, and then the hashtags underneath “pocket pussy”. Closing your eyes, you fight against your body's initial reaction with a loud sigh and scroll past the link, instead opting for the gallery of recently added photos. 

It takes a moment to get through the new ones you haven't seen before; those that had been posted in the span of the last couple of days. The one that immediately draws your attention is a close up on the bulge in his dark gray boxers. You close your eyes for a second, and it's enough for your head to slip back to Frank. You feel the warmth of his cock under the fabric of his boxers, you feel it in the palm of your hand where you felt it not long ago and where you feel like you should still be feeling it right now. 

Pushing your legs together slightly, you open your eyes and flip through a couple more photos but find yourself unable to really focus on the guy from the internet and focusing on your next-door neighbor instead. You try a couple more photos and even a couple of the highlighted clips saved on his pages, but much to your ‘surprise’ none of them really work as well as you're sure they would if it wasn't for your little bit of Frank Castle branded fun. 

You scoff at your own thoughts loudly, rolling your eyes back and dragging your hand down your face as the frustration washed over your body once again before opening up your messages. Your thumb hovers over Frank's name for a moment as you question your choices, per usual. 

Thinking about you.

You cringe at the words instantly, shaking your head to highlight the feeling to…yourself? Working quickly on the digital keyboard, you try to word your message in a couple different ways, feeling a slight embarrassment at every single alternation, eventually steeling on a quick. 

How's work?

Hitting send, you raise your eyebrows and shake your head softly at your own incapability to talk to a man you were just about to fuck on your couch not so long ago. The message hangs in the air, unread for a while, and you assume he's busy. You let it sit there for a bit longer, attempting to distract yourself with some everyday chores around the apartment, before eventually laying back down on the couch again. No answer. 

“He's at work, he's busy.”

You explain to yourself once more and work on convincing yourself it's a pretty plausible scenario since…you knew he was working. After a few more minutes you sigh quietly, accepting your defeat.

Hesitantly, you exit the messages app and open the browser on your phone one more time. The designated page already open and ready since you didn't bother to close it up before. 

“Alright, you win.”

You mumble quietly under your breath while scrolling back up to the top of the page. Today's livestream only started a few minutes ago and as much as you hate you know their usual length, you're aware there's quite a bit of time left till he's done for the day. You click the link and stare at the small screen of your phone before deciding to grab your laptop from the other room for a more…engaged experience. 

Back on the page yet again, you click open the live transmission before sitting back on the couch and finally decide to let yourself relax properly.

You watch the quick introduction where he gets in the frame and greets the chat, quickly getting rid of his shirt, leaving him only in his dark, navy jeans and you catch yourself smiling at the deep, rumbly voice. You would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the way he sounded. Aware of the fact that voice changers exist and people who do things like The Punisher tend to use them more often than not, you never really thought that much of his voice…well, except for how much you liked it of course and how it got to you. Besides all of that, he sounded strangely familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on the reason why. For some reason, you took notice of it this time more than you usually would. 

“Think I might need some help today.”

His words quickly get you to focus back on the visuals more so than the audio of the stream. The frame is, as usual, cut off right below his shoulder. There is no way to see his face and as he reads out the couple of alerts from the chat you begin to wonder if anyone actually knows what he looks like. The thoughts leave your head as quickly as they appeared the second the man on your screen stands up to approach the camera. He takes a step towards the viewers and turns to the side. “You guys seeing this?”

He starts, stating the obvious as your eyes focus on the bulge in his dark jeans. The outline of his cock is as prominent as it possibly could be. The shadows only accentuate the shape, not leaving much up to the imagination. The alerts and tips in the chat ramp up pretty quickly as the community reacts to his state. He chuckles deeply and raises his hands up, but still keeps them in frame. 

“Okay, okaaay, settle down. The show hasn't even started yet and you guys act like this?”

He clicks his tongue. 

“‘Least wait till you see it, huh?”

The cockiness of the statement makes the corner of your lips pull up slightly.

The man sits back onto his chair, pushing his legs open with a grunt, palming himself over the jeans. Your head kicks you back to the way you pushed your hand against Frank's bulge. You let your head fall back against the couch and rub your hand over your forehead, debating on closing up the site completely and calling Frank.

“He's working.”

You repeat to yourself one more time, unable to believe how hard it apparently was for you to get over the situation. It felt embarrassing, considering the fact that he most likely already moved on from what happened this morning and was definitely not slipping back to the feeling of your hands on his body every couple of minutes while desperately trying to focus on something else. Grabbing your phone off the coffee table, you check for messages one more time. No response. 

Your eyes trail back to the computer screen, and you watch the man push his hips up slightly to pull the jeans down, about halfway down his thighs, the fabric of the pants digging into his skin.

Shit.

You curse yourself in your head and throw your phone on the couch, attempting to focus entirely on the livestream now. The center of his palm rubs over his cock through the fabric of his boxers and a low, raspy grunt leaves his throat when his hips push up, chasing the sensation. You do the same, lifting your hips up to shift on the couch slightly, feeling the faint pulsation between your thighs. 

He hums quietly, slipping his hand under the fabric and wrapping his fingers around his cock.

“God damn.”

He mumbles in a low voice, inhaling through his teeth quickly once he tightens the grip around himself.

“Shit.”

You whisper, pressing your legs together, playing with the hem of your pants for a moment as you think this over one more time. 

“Aright-”

His voice makes you look back up at the screen.

“About the highly requested part…”

He starts, referencing the title chosen for today's stream. Reaching for something out of view he moves forward on the chair slightly, and you’re not sure if he does it just because or to very subtly show off the darker spot on his boxers right where the outline of his tip pushes against the fabric. With a quiet grunt, he now brings the object into the chat’s view, and you suddenly remember the tag on the video you noticed after you first opened up the page. 

You feel a slight twitch between your legs when he presents the see-through, silicone masturbator to the camera and laughs out loud.

“Yeah? S’that what y’all wanted?”

His fingers wrap around the toy and for a second you feel Frank's big palms on the sides of your face. It feels insane how despite having this whole god-damn show in front of you, your brain still clings to that moment with Frank from the morning, but you can't help it. All you can really think to do right now is to give into what your brain and your body clearly need. You rest your back against the back of the couch and quickly slip your pants down and off your legs. Letting them fall on the floor, you spread your legs open and, with your eyes on the screen and your mind back with Frank, you let your hand slip between your thighs. Humming quietly, you push into the touch and close your eyes while slowly circling your clit over the fabric of your panties. It doesn't take long before you touch yourself properly, with the livestream playing in the background and your brain unable to disconnect from the memory of the morning. You're not even surprised by the fact of how quickly you manage to get yourself close. 

With the sounds, the visuals in front of you and your brain doing its best to make sure the image of your half-naked neighbor replays in your head over and over and over again, you give into your body's intense desire.

"Oh, fuck."

He grunts again, raising his hips and stretching the toy around his length. The wet sounds spill from your laptop's speaker, and your legs twitch slightly when a loud moan follows.

"Shit."

With your eyes glued to the screen, you watch him pull the silicone sleeve up his cock, up, up and over the tip until he slips out of it completely. The thin strings of his pre-cum stretch out between his body and the toy, and you involuntarily sink your teeth into your lower lip. Allowing your brain to wander, you think about Frank again, focusing on the feeling of his bulge pressed against the palm of your hand. You try to imagine how he looked under the fabric, how he'd twitch against you if you grabbed him tighter, how he'd feel inside you. Your body reacts to the thought, legs twitch again as you speed up the movement, feeling your climax getting closer.

“...Do you think porn is cheating?”

You ask a bit unexpectedly, definitely getting the attention of a couple of people sitting around the two of you at the somewhat fancy restaurant Frank chose for your dinner date. To be completely honest, this wasn't the way you pictured him "making it up to you" like he promised the other day after he had to leave for work so abruptly, but you chose not to comment on the fact. It wasn't like you didn't want to go, or didn't enjoy this... you just simply pictured something in a slightly… different manner.

The older lady dining with her friends to your left gives you a very distinctive glare, making sure you know she heard you, and she does not think your conversation is appropriate. You choose to ignore her, rolling your eyes slightly before focusing your attention back on your date.

“Like doing it?”

Frank answers with a question, seemingly without a second thought, and you chuckle with a confused expression.

“What?!”

You shake your head, laughing louder now, ignoring another glare from the old lady and keeping your eyes on the man sitting opposite of you at the small, round table. 

“No, just- like watching?”

You explain your question, already knowing god-damn well you won't just get a straight answer, not from Frank Castle. He seems to be unable to do that, at least in any conversations he has with you.

“Ooooo, oh, just watching, huh?”

He nods with a slight smirk, poking his food with the fork, and you nod as well, giving him a big smile with your silent confirmation.

“Like, if I was watching someone do it and was thinking about you? Hmm?”  

You imply oh, so very subtly and Frank glances up now, eyebrows pulled together, the smirk never leaving that god-damn pretty face of his.

“That a confession, or?”

He teases and you roll your eyes with a loud scoff, so absolutely ready to deny the thing you confessed seconds earlier as if nothing happened.

“Oh, shut up.”

You play it off, but he's not ready to let go of it yet.

“Nah, you started, now I wanna know.”

He states, crossing his arms in front of his chest, determined to get the answer from you.

“I asked you first.”

Oh, that's very mature, you tell yourself, adding to the whole thing by mirroring his pose at the table, raising an eyebrow as you silently push him to answer your question first.

“Alright.”

He breaks first, admitting you're right with a small nod.

“I mean…guess as long as you don't know the person?”

He settles on his answer pretty quickly before taking a sip of the beer he ordered earlier. The same one he buys at the bar from you. The same one you pour with a small smile the moment you see him walking through the door at work.

“Why?”

He continues, bringing your consciousness back to the present, scrunching his nose with a cocky smile before squinting to try and read you.

“You wanna tell me something? Huh?”

He tilts his head to the side slightly before licking his lips and you realize he's serious. You don't really think he would mind it, if you told him he left you so horny you had to fuck yourself the other night.

“Oh, you wish.”

You mumble, pushing your ass back on the chair before leaning down on the table, chest exposed a bit more as you rest your chin in your hands.

“What would you wanna hear?”

The question leaves your lips and to your amusement, Frank's reaction only adds to the sudden rush of confidence that fills your entire body.

He grunts loudly, shifting on the chair slightly before clearing his throat, and you fight back the smile, sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Did you want me to just admit to it out loud? Hmm?”

You tilt your head to the side now with a wide grin on your face.

“Okay just-”

He starts, but you cut him off quickly.

“Did you just want to hear yes? Hmm?”

You keep pushing and he sighs loudly.

“That what you wanted me to say? Yeah, that's exactly what I did Frank, I just…”

You put on your showgirl voice and he shakes his head with a quiet,

“Christ.”

“Just couldn't help myself, couldn't stop thinking about you.”

You lower your voice and lean forward, closer to him, brushing your leg against his under the table and watching him move slightly on the chair again. 

“That what you expected to hear?”

You ask again, this time casually as if nothing ever happened, and watch as he opens his mouth but no word leaves his lips. 

“I beat you at your own game, Castle?”

He nods quickly, breathing out a quiet laugh.

“Think you did, sweetheart, yeah.”

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname and you once again curse yourself in your head, your mind slipping to your favorite pastime activity as of late. 

“Guess all that shit we did really got to you, huh?”

He speaks after a moment and you raise your eyebrows, surprised with his final attempt to gain the higher ground in this situation.

“I mean, you're the one walking out of my place with a hard on, Castle.”

You point out quickly, probably quicker than he was expecting because he chokes on the beer, caught off guard by your counterattack. 

“Alright.”

He starts, wiping his chin as you laugh louder than before, celebrating your victory, watching him be stared down the older lady who has definitely had enough of the two of you at this point in the evening.

“Alright, you think you won, huh?”

He asks menacingly, lowering his voice slightly. You nod enthusiastically, finishing your drink quickly before innocently resting your face on your hands, elbows on the table, staring straight into his big, brown eyes. 

“I do think so, yeah.”

“Mhm.”

He hums, and you know god-damn well he's not willing to give up just yet. Looking past you at the door to the bathroom, he thinks over the choice he's about to make, like he hasn't already imagined it at least three times since you started talking. 

“Know how I said I'll make that shit up to you?”

He mumbles quietly now before glancing back over his shoulder. 

"The thing we started? At your place? Hmm?"

“Yeah?”

“Think you’re up for it right now?”

He asks, leaning over the table, and you swear your vision goes a little blurry at the thought. You feel the blood rising up to your cheeks and the subtle tingling sensation between your legs. Your body answers for you as you shift in your chair slightly.

“Frank..."

He smirks, watching your reaction, before glancing around the room quickly to check for people who could potentially be listening to your conversation.

“Yeah?"

"Yeah, fuck it, let's go."

He scoffs, shaking his head before nodding towards the bathroom quickly.

"Go, I’ll pay."

“If your phone goes off again-”

You warn him, already getting up from the table and collecting your things in an excitement-filled rush. Frank chuckles loudly with a sly smirk on his face, looking around the room, impatiently waiting for one of the waiters to notice him trying to pay. You turn around and quickly make your way towards the bathroom, turning to walk down the small corridor before you stop in front of the doors. Looking back over your shoulder, you try to assess the situation. It's not like anyone from the main part of the restaurant could see at this point.

“In here.”

You jump slightly at Frank's voice as he walks over to you from behind, you feel his hand on yours and follow as he pushes the door open. 

It's one of those... more elegant looking public bathrooms; it feels fancy, it's clean, it fits the level of elegance portrayed throughout the whole restaurant.

"Don't know how long we h-"

You hear the door shut behind Frank and turn around to face him, cupping his cheeks with your palms quickly. You pull him into the kiss and he grunts into your lips loudly while you two stumble to the counter under the big mirrors on the other side of the bathroom.  With your lips pushed against his you gasp quietly, feeling the cold imitation marble pressing into your ass. You're not sure what exactly makes your brain switch off when he's this close to you. Is it the fact that you've been waiting for this since the last time you've seen each other, unable to focus on…anything really, your brain occupied by the memory of his touch. Is it the way his lips feel against yours, how he follows when you tilt your head to the side, push your tongue past his lips and your fingers through his hair? Is it the way he reads your body, knowing and understanding when, where and how to touch you?

Once again, you're not sure, but you know all you can focus on at this very moment is Frank Castle's body pushing against yours while his lips trace down your neck hungrily.

“Oh, fuck-”

You mumble, tilting your head down when the kisses grow rougher against your skin. Dragging his hand down your body, he stops right at your ass, his thumb brushing over the fabric while his other hand holds the side of your face as his lips find their way back to yours once again. 

He grunts loud once you touch him over the fabric of his pants. Pulling away from the kiss he glances down, focuses on how your fingers feel him and work over the growing bulge between his legs. He lets out a deep, low hum,  closing his eyes for a second before staring into your eyes again.

“You feel that? Hmm?”

You nod, pushing your palm against him harder, satisfied with the effect you clearly have on him. He glances back at the bathroom door over his shoulder before turning back to face you again, panting quietly as his lips part, and he asks you a question.

“You want this?”

He asks, hand slipping under the black dress you chose to wear to the dinner. His thumb brushes over the skin of your thigh and you reach forward to hook your fingers over the waistband of his pants.

“Frank, I'm not fucking leaving after all that.”

He scoffs, looking off to the side with a big smirk before looking back at you, shaking his head at your words. 

“God damn, sweetheart.”

His hand moves higher up your thigh and you push your legs apart slightly with an inviting hum. He glances back at the door one more time and you squeeze his cock tightly to get his attention back. Frank grunts, loudly this time and grabs your wrist before turning to face you again.

“Yeah, fuck it.”

He mumbles and you cup his face before pulling him close to you again. With your lips crashing against his, he slips his hands down below your ass before pulling you up and helping you up on top of the cold counter top. Pushing your legs apart, he steps between them and even closer to you. You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand touch you over the underwear under your dress, and your hips buck up into the touch. 

He chuckles against you, breaking the kiss slightly before mumbling quietly.

“Shit. Look at you.”

He teases, but you wouldn't be yourself if you just let him have it.

“Yeah, you're the one talking?”

Rubbing your palm against his cock, you feel how hard he is now, straining against the tick fabric.

He grinds, bucking into your palm, and you part your lips, grinning at his reaction.

“Shit, look at you, Frankie.”

You turn his own words against him before quickly working the zipper of his pants undone, but he wraps his fingers around your wrist before you can finish.

“Yeah, no, we're not doing that, sweetheart.”

You frown, looking at him with a confused expression as you try to read his intentions.

“Said I’ll make it up to you.”

Your legs twitch slightly at the words.

“Think I can do that?”

He mumbles with his fingers still wrapped around your wrists.

“Promised I'd do it, right?”

He continues quietly, dropping down on one knee and then slowly on the other, right here, right between your legs, right in front of you in the middle of the bathroom at a restaurant you didn't even know existed a couple of hours ago. The sounds of a busy room full of people on the other side of the wall slips through the cracks under the door.

FUCK

You curse in your head while slowly spreading your legs apart in front of him. Frank's hands move from your wrists to your thighs, rubbing slowly up and down your body. He strategically pushes the hem of your dress up your body before resting his head against your left thigh, clearly taking his fucking time.

“Frank, I swear to god if someone walks in now-."

You grunt, moving your hands away from him before quickly pulling the skirt up. He's quick to help, hooking his fingers over the hem of your panties before pulling them down your legs quickly. Making sure not to let the fabric touch the floor, he hides the small piece of fabric in his pocket before glancing over at the main door to the bathroom one more time.

"Yeah, what you gonna do then, huh?"

He asks, eyebrow raised, waiting for your answer. You roll your eyes and pull him closer.

“Shut up."

“Yes ma'am.”

He nods, pushing your legs apart more before shoving his face between them. You’re covering your mouth the second you feel Frank's tongue press against you in an attempt to silence the satisfied moan.

He chuckles, the deep, groggy sound rumbles between your legs and you buck your hips forward, chasing the feeling. Frank moves his hands to your lower back, digging his fingers into your back in order to pull you forward, closer to him. Pushing your legs apart further, you encourage him to continue, your fingers push through his hair as your mouth falls open at the warm sensation. 

“You got any idea how long I've thought about this?”

He mumbles, pulling away to stare up at you, and you tilt your head to the side.

“Oh, so you’ve pictured eating me out before, Frank?”

You point out just to get to him, fingers in his hair while he scoffs and shakes his head at your words now.

“You just can't give it a rest, huh?”

He teases, moving closer to you again. His hand moves between your legs once more, his eyes still fixed on yours. 

“Can't help it.”

You mumble, feeling the warm sensation of his breath on your skin. Your body shakes in excitement, despite your efforts to hide it, but it's not like there's much you can do to fight against it. 

“Can't get over the fact that you've thought about it before, either.”

You admit, and he glances up at you again before pushing his tongue between your folds. Your hips push forward and you moan quietly, letting yourself enjoy the feeling.

“Have you?”

Frank mumbles against your body quickly before continuing to work like that.

“Frank-”

You start, biting into your lower lip as you grip his hair tighter once he makes you feel even better. 

“Mhm?”

“Do you-”

You grunt as he chooses to continue talking.

“You seriously think,”

Another grunt as you feel yourself getting closer.

"You seriously think I haven't thought about us fucking before?”

Frank's loud grunt fills the bathroom of the restaurant, and your eyes widen slightly at the sound. His tongue presses harder against you and the pace grows faster as you let your head fall back, resting against the big mirror on the wall behind you.

The pleasure building up inside your body successfully manages to drown out the outside noise of the busy restaurant and for a moment you completely forget where you are. Your eyes close and your mind slips back to your apartment, to how you two got so close only a day before this, how he promised he'd make it all up to you and, now, taking care of how you feel—he was doing exactly that.

Your body twitches, warning both you and him that you're now closer than either of you thought you were. 

“Really?”

He starts, going for another tease, but you push your legs together, pressing them against either side of his head and he grunts loudly once more. 

“Don't-”

You attempt to steady your breathing, scolding him.

“Don't even start.”

You warn him, wrapping your legs around his back and feel how they shake with his deep laugh. 

“Okay, yeah, let me just-”

He focuses completely on you from that moment and you can tell. His fingers dig into your legs as he holds you close. The tip of his nose brushes your clit while his tongue slips inside you. He looks up from time to time, searching for encouragement, seeking your approval or watching your reaction.

“Oh, fuck-”

The words slip past your lips and act as a cue for him, opening his mouth wider as he works his tongue against your clit. Making sure it feels good to you, he works your body with his tongue, his mouth, brushing over your exposed thighs with his rough fingers.

You feel your heart pounding against your chest, the blood rushing to your cheeks, and your body shaking slightly as he finally pushes you over the edge. Your entire body clenches around him once he slips his fingers inside you quickly. You grip onto his body, your hips bucking up and into his touch as you ride out the climax. The many moans, probably louder than they should be, escape your mouth before he moves his hand up to your mouth. 

“Shhhh.”

He whispers, chuckling between the loud pants while watching your body slowly calm down after everything now.

You swallow hard; you're breathing faster than normal, your heart pounding in your chest, your legs now pressed together as you feel your body keep twitching at the memory of the feeling.

“Shit.”

You mumble quietly, attempting to get down from the bathroom counter, managing to succeed after another moment. Your legs shake slightly and you hold onto Frank when he gets up from his knees. 

“You okay?”

He asks, staring at your reflection as you do your best to make yourself look somewhat presentable again. 

“Don't- just don't-.”

You take a deep breath in, earning yourself another chuckle from your neighbor before he steps up to the sink, deciding to clean himself up. You straighten up your dress and turn around to look at his reflection. 

“So now should I-”

You start, moving closer to him, but before he can answer the bathroom door swings open suddenly. 

You all freeze for a moment: Frank, you and the man now standing by the bathroom door. There's a moment of silence where neither of you know what to say and as you turn to face the young looking waiter directly with your mouth open, he decides to take the initiative.

“You…shouldn't be here, Miss.”

He points out the obvious, clearly not really sure how to react, and you decide to make it as easy for all of you as possible.

“Oh shit, it's the men’s room? I'm so sorry, I didn't realize.”

You grab onto Frank's wrist, speed walking past the confused worker and make your way around the many tables and unsuspecting people, quickly moving towards the main entrance to the restaurant, leading him outside. A loud, relieved sigh leaves your body once you finally make your way outside. 

“Okay so…”

You start after a moment when the cool, evening air sobers you up a bit. Clearing your throat, Frank does the same, trying his best to ignore the way his cock strains against the fabric of his pants.

“Yeah, we should…”

“You wanna call an Uber?”

You suggest, and he nods quickly, pulling up his phone at the same time.

“We’ll get back faster.”

“Yep.”

You nod, fighting back the big smile quickly growing on your face as you watch him work his phone, casually taking care of your transport as if nothing ever happened. 

The car shows up shortly after he books the ride and you get inside after Frank opens the door for you. You hold onto the back of your dress as you bend down to get into the car and you hear a quiet chuckle behind you.

You take your seat and Frank does the same, resting his hand on your thigh the second you nudge your knee into his, his fingers digging into your skin as he clears his throat. Shifting on the backseat sligtly he pulls the fabric of his pants away from his body, doing his best to keep it together and not let his mind slip back to the images from couple minutes ago.

“You think they’ll let us inside next time?”

He tilts his head closer to you and you breathe out a laugh.

“I mean we didn’t do anything.”

You lower your voice, glancing at the driver before resting your head against Franks shoulder.

“I think no one saw us…except that one guy.”

“Yeah okay, ill let you belive that.”

You laugh again, before exhaliging loudly.

Frank glance at his phone, making sure the driver has the correct  address, the building you two lived at, before relaxing into the backseat.

“So, you guys having a good evening?”

The man attempts to strike up a conversation and you quickly turn to Frank, watching his stoic expression while he nods.

“Guess you could say that.”

His palm squeezes your leg tightly before he pulls you in closer, letting you rest your body against his completely.

Taglist:

taglist

@chelseasdagger @lorilane33 @dreadfulxives18 @5thelement @desert-fern

@joybabyjune @ohgodthebogisback

@barnesbabee @babeincolor @liadamerondjarin @therashslingingslasher @lostfleurs @httpwintersoldier @witchychanel @atemydadforbreakfast @sumo-b98 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocksstarlight @violetcyerce

@groovypandaeagle @aishaleblanc @corruptedfool

[thecapricunt1616]

Hello everyone! I am truly sorry for not posting as of late. I’ve been dealing with mental health stuff, also my laptop got broken :( So it hasn’t been as easy to write. I do have my iPad/wireless keyboard, but it just isn’t as comfortable to write on / I worry that the format will look like shit. I do feel poorly though because all of my moots have been writing a lot lately, and my blog has been so dry! I am really trying to get my mental health in check so obtaining a job will be easier and in turn, my work will probably be (somewhat) better. I hope this suffices, though, for the time being. I promise I’m trying to get a new laptop just as soon as I can <3 I appreciate all of your patience with me :) I have never written for our darling prince Lip Gallagher before- but he has been making me fairly crazy lately, so I wanted to give my go at writing for him, I haven’t watched the college Lip ep’s in a while so I hope it’s alright - sorry if it’s not fully canon! Tell me how I did if you’d like! xoxo - Capri <3 :)

(Warnings - smut choking (consensual) unprotected PIV sex, not very edited or proof read bc im tired ❤️❤️❤️)

”Hump my fuckin leg one more time, I swear to god. If you don’t just sit in my fuckin’ lap, and behave y’not gonna like me. I told you, I have 3 more fuckin’ papers to grade- like a cat in fuckin’ heat” he grumbled, not looking up from the homework assignment he’d been grading for the professor he’d been working under.

You pouted, squeezing his thigh that you had been straddling and working your way up to fully dragging your swollen, needy cunt across his worn out denim beneath your flower printed panties. A frustrated huff leaved your lips, before connecting them with the warm, tobacco scented skin of his neck and planting a gentle kiss. “Wanna feel good, Lip. Y’bein mean” you said, voice quiet and laced with the neediness he couldn’t quite ignore, or deny.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fine, Need a smoke anyway. But you want it so bad, you can fuckin’ get y’self off” he walked over to the dorm window, pushing it open to let out the smoke out and put a cigarette to his lips, lighting it and plopping down on the bed, popping the button of his jeans. You were sat there dumbly, jaw dropped at the fact that he didn’t put up more of a fight. ”You have until the end of this fuckin smoke. You gonna come do somethin’ er sit there lookin’ like a goddamn trout?” He teased.

You quickly got up, pushing him to lay down and tugging his cock just enough out of his jeans and boxers, spitting in your hand before beginning to stroke him quickly, thumbing over his sensitive tip and he grunted softly, smoke plooming out of his nose as he plucked the cigarette from between his lips. “see that fuckin wet stain you left on my jeans? Such a needy whore f’me yeah?” He mused, watching as you pumped him faster, mouth dropping slightly as he hardened in the pressure of your palm until he was throbbing.

”Only yours -“ your jaw falls slack as you ran the tip of his cock through your wet folds, gathering your arousal and using his tip to rub over your clit. His eyes nearly rolled back, putting the cigarette between his lips and taking another large drag. He looked down as you rutted your hips back and forth over his thick now throbbing length.

“Only half a cig left, kitten. You gonna get y’self off with it er’ just fuck around, ‘eh?” He asked impatiently. You rolled your eyes sassily, aligning him with your entrance and sitting back, a whimper leaving your throat since you hadn’t the time to get yourself fully ready for him and the stretch he provided was never anything you could adjust to no matter how many times you took it.

A small grunt left his throat, hips rutting up into you subconsciously a gasp left your throat as he shifted his hips forward, rutting into that most sensitive and spongey spot inside of you that made white stars form behind your lids and your thighs shake. You whine as your head fell back, hips trembling as you lifted yourself up and down over his cock. “Jesus- so fucking big….” You manage to get out, bringing a trembling hand down to play with your puffy, throbbing clit.

”Finally feel good? Hm? Little fuckin’ brat. Shoulda fucked your face instead mm? Bet you’d love that shit” he reached over and put out his mostly gone cigarette on the ash tray and you began furiously rolling your hips, worried he was gonna pull you off and tell you that it was time for him too get back to work.

”Yes- yes daddy, such a brat- your brat. Please- please let me finish- feel so good- please” you rambled, voice needy and begging. He huffed a nearly mocking chuckle, grabbing you by the throat and pushing you down onto the mattress. It wasn’t painful, it just cut off your blood flow just right to where there was this sweet, fuzzy feeling in your head, causing your vision to go slightly hazy around the edges.

“I’ve created a fuckin monster - huh? Addicted t’my cock now. Can’t even go 12 hours without gettin’ filled up.” He was practically speaking into your sweaty, flushed skin of your temple, His voice a gruff row grumble. He used his other hand to rut up your tshirt, palming your tit roughly and rolling your nipple between his fingers. You squeaked out, hips jerking at the motion which urged him deeper and made your eyes roll at the overstimulation.

”shit - like that, huh? You like that? When I pound you this fuckin’ deep?” He snapped his hips faster, short, sweet little ah-ah-ah squeaks being torn from your throat with each nearly punishing thrust. You nod quickly, looking up at him in awe stricken lust as you clench around him.

“Ohh are you gonna cum? Is my little fuckin brat gonna cum? Mmm? You gonna cum around my cock?” He taunts in the shell of your ear, the hand that was playing with your nipple sliding down to play with your clit as the other stated wrapped firmly around your throat. Your hips jerk, feet planting on the bed as your back arches while your body tries to escape the oncoming tidal wave of pleasure that was threatening to take over.

“Mmhmm. Y’gonna cum- feel you fuckin’ milking my cock- go ahead baby - let go” he goads as he stroked your twitching bud faster. You let out something akin to a sob, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and breath hitching as your vision blurs out momentarily, body going slack other then your trembling thighs, and nails that were slapping and clawing at Lips back as he drives you through it, his thrusts becoming sloppier and harder at the feeling of you pulsating around him like a second heartbeat and your creamy white arousal seeping around him and covering his cock with each thrust.

“That’s fuckin it- that’s it kitten” he groaned, spreading out your pussy with a slack jaw, watching as his cock punched in and out of you, rutting against your g spot each and every time - in turn causing pathetic pleas for you weren’t sure what coming from your throat.

“Please what, baby- want me to fill you up? Hm? Need my cum drippin outta’ you after I fuck you to sleep here so I can finish my fuckin work in peace?” He coos mockingly, tugging you by your hair forcing you to look at him.

You sniffled, tears seeping from the corners of your eyes pathetically and drool dribbling down your chin from how he was fucking you so good your tongue had nearly fallen out of your mouth like some kind of puppy - “s-sorry- jus’love your- your cock” you hiccuped an over stimulated sob as he used his thumb abuse the nub further which in turn caused another strangled moan to leave your throat and head to fall back to the pillow.

“Awww I know Angel. You take it so well- like a good little toy” he mumbled into your skin, his words causing you to clench and dribble around him slightly, the raspiness of his voice mixed with the praise doing something to you you couldn’t quite explain.

“So good- so good daddy m’so good” you cry out as he fills you up, cock twitching and pulsing between your walls in the most delicious way. You gasped in delight, wrapping your legs tight around his hips and tugging your pelvis’ taut and comfortably, enjoying the feeling of being filled up to the hilt.

“Got shit t’do as much as I wanna live in your cunt, baby. Gotta get back at it” he kissed your forehead, grabbing a T shirt from his laundry pile and tossing it to you to clean yourself up as he fixed his jeans and went to sit back at his desk, leaving you well satiated

All be it a little sore and wanting post sex snuggles,

You win some, you lose some.

[jemmo]

ok i was too exhausted to talk about i hear the sunspot last week so now i have 2 weeks worth of ranting saved up and i can feel the tidal wave coming.

edit: i had to add a read more bc this turned into the messiest, most tangent-filled rant. tl;dr idk i just like it

and first off i wanna semi-respond to some discussion ive seen around the show with regards to pacing, that its slow, its frustrating etc. and the extent of my response is... yeah. well, not just yeah. its not that i agree or disagree, its more that i dont have a way to respond that is unbiased or removed from my personal opinion bc i love the show a lot. if i totally detached and looked at it, yeah, maybe i'd think that way. god knows ive said the same thing for many, many other shows and funnily enough its usually one of my least favourite things. at least, i thought it was, but now that i think about it...

ok this is gonna be a tangent but ive now been watching bl and been in the bl space for over 3 years (wow, how did that happen?) and i think its really interesting to think about, and i'd love to hear from others as well, how my taste in bl has changed. what i like, what i dont like, what i value in a show and how much i am willing to invest in or engage with a show. before i got to bl, i was very much looking for bl content. even when i was younger, i was always trying to find queer content and it was usually european, and then in my anime phase i watched all the bl anime, and that led me to cherry magic blah blah you dont need to know the rest. but at that point i was very much hungry to just see queerness on screen. and i mean explicit queerness, not necessary sexual, just like dating and kissing and explicit same sex relationships. and i think in that haze and the height of hyperfixation i watched many shows that i probably wouldnt have the patience to now. i watch a lot less bl now, maybe bc im more busy with work, maybe bc bl is actually getting worse idk, or maybe i just dont have the effort the engage with something when i dont like it, or it just doesnt interest me. and speaking of what i do and don't like, i feel like this lack of patience has also come with this gradual change in what i want for the show. i know bl now, i know its out there, i know more and more is being made every year, im not in short supply of explicit queerness anymore. so now i can be more picky. if i find myself getting bored watching a show, i just wont watch it. and also bc ive been watching bl for years now, i feel like i am developing what my taste in bl is, and thats not exactly something i can describe, for me its more a i know it when i see it kinda thing. thats why i try a lot of shows out but am happy to drop them after a couple of eps when i know i dont vibe with them.

and with shows i dont drop, they usually fall into 2 categories; im actually enjoying it or im just waiting around to see where this goes. and to call myself out, bc of all these things i think it means that im... well, not less critical, but less able to be unbiased when watching a show i do like, bc hey this is the one show out of 10 going on this month that im obsessed with, of course im not gonna be critical of it. and thats not to say i should be critical of i hear the sunspot, more that im not bc my bias and taste just makes me like it. all the things people think are its flaws that i see with other shows, i just dont see, or dont care about, bc i just like it. and thats me with the pacing. in any other show i would probably be bored and impatient. but for me, bc of so many other things, bc of what theyve done with characters in the mean time, bc i just like these characters a lot, the way they interact, the way they think, the whole vibe of the show and what it says, im just not bothered by it. its not an issue to me. and thats my tangent on personal taste and how youre allowed to just not think that a show has flaws when you like it even if other people think its flawed and youre equally critical of other things but anyway.

back to i hear the sunspot. i dont know why i love this slowburn and lack of communication but i just do. maybe its bc the show doesnt feel rushed. ive been frustrated so many other times when shows wait until the final ep for the couple to get together, which im guessing this show is doing, but thats usually bc nothing else about the show is engaging me so it feels like im being left waiting. i dont feel like im left waiting here. here, i feel like everyone as a character is being valued and whatever time i spend with any of them, i love it. i dont find myself waiting until kohei and taichi get a scene together like i have with other shows bc everything else, everything with them individually, everything with maya, with taichi's friends, idk what else to say i just love it all. and that shows bc i cried just as hard at the scene with maya as i did at the scene with kohei and taichi.

and now for just some fave bits, starting with maya. i just love her. people were so ready to be annoyed with her and pick her apart, but i cant scream enough about how amazing it is that the show introduced a female antagonist and managed to, in my eyes anyway, turn her into someone i liked and felt for and just enjoyed watching. finally, a female antagonist that wasnt just disposable after she served her purpose. and whats better is that what we come to learn about her recontextualises her actions when she was first introduced. i just know upon a rewatch that when i first see her acting out and being mean to taichi, i might still be mad at her, but ill also see a girl that is struggling to make it look like she is fine, someone who is trying her hardest to make it appear that she doesnt try at all, that shes fine, shes no burden to anyone, that this huge thing that is scary and difficult to deal with, shes fine with, bc shes just that good, no biggie. that need to make it all seem casual, to not show weakness, is even exactly why she got mad at taichi in the first place, bc she thought he wasnt trying, he was just doing things casually and he was ok with letting people know he wasnt perfect. he didnt take perfect notes and that was ok, he was still trying his hardest. thats like the exact opposite of maya's mindset to be perfect but make it look like shes not trying. and i think that clash was a great thing to add to the show, and so rewarding when taichi finally hit the nail on the head and told her she didnt have to try so hard, that its ok to let, or even make, other people make the effort. its not sympathy or pity, its kindness.

and now for taichi and kohei. there was just so many things that i loved, the scene of kohei cutting onions with his mom, the whole montage in the classroom going through the highlights of taichi taking notes for kohei, the whole vibe at the end where it was never explicitly said but you just knew it was taichi's last day. and i adore the way that kohei didn't ask questions when taichi told him about dropping out, he just had that faith in taichi, there was nothing to question, he believed that whyever it was, whatever it was for, taichi had thought about it and made the decision and that was enough. instead he just talks about taichi, how hes amazing, making him feel good about himself so he can feel both confident in his decision and whatever he does next. and as for taichi, i know we all wanna know why he cant just say he likes kohei and get it over with, but i dont think thats the right sentiment to bring to the show, or at least not the one i have. whatever it is, i just dont mind, bc to me taichi is a person and if he cant bring himself to say it now or doesnt want to or doesnt think its the right time, thats fine. thats the kind of energy gives me anyway, that i shouldnt be pressing these characters for a reason. its similar to how the show doesnt feel rushed, its like im fine if taichi doesnt say it bc theres no deadline, you say your feelings when youre ready and want to and thats just up to him and im not here to rush him, neither is the show. it just gives him the space to figure things out and make his mind up and decide when the time is right, when he isnt on rocky ground with yknow new people being mean to him and making him doubt himself or questioning what he wants to do with his life and taking on something new - like if taichi is overwhelemed by all of that, its fine. and i can hear the argument oh show us that and like yeah, as i said for any other show id say that too but here i dont care. taichi not saying his feelings can be for any reason you want to come up with, the show doesnt need to give us one, nor do we need one to accept he hasnt done it, but also if you want a reason, theres more than enough to draw from the show to come to your own conclusions. that kinda sounds like the most pretencious defence of a show thatsputting off a confession for the final ep but hey its what i think and i vibe with that thinking so there.

honestly, what i feel about this show is that it didn't need to be a bl for me to watch it, bc i adore everything about it that id watch it even if it was just bromance or even pure friendship, but the fact it is that bc its a bl, because it has that romance, it makes it better. and maybe thats why im not bothered by the pacing, bc im not waiting for the bl moments, im just enjoying the show for what it is, for the story its telling, for the characters its created and the message its conveying. and god if i think about it ending next week i will bust a cry so for now, we live in denial.

[kosije]

a/n: never have unprotected sex with strangers! only read about it <3 also this is a old work i just added a bit onto...

cw: mdni, mechanic!hawks x fem!reader, use of doll/ma'am/miss, unprotected sex, missionary, pretty vanilla, simp behavior by hawks, reader calls him keigo, corny dialogue, horrible capitalization (im so srry), probably wont edit this lol...

It's been hours. It's been hours and you're dripping sweat despite the multitude of cold drinks you've ingested from the vending machine in your local auto care. You just took your car in for an oil change and regretted not getting a bus ride back. The more the round clock above the register desk clicked, the more impatient you're getting and the smell of gasoline was hurting your head. After bobbing your leg up and down a little more, you decide to just go out and check on your car.

"Hey! Uh, my car was scheduled to be done 30 minutes ago. Is there any way I can check on it right now? Do you have an ETA of some sort?"

The receptionist, a dark-haired boy with a red choker, looks up empathetically before clicking his keyboard.

"Sorry miss, I dunno much about that, but let me call up your mechanic. What number are you?"

"3389"

"3....3....8- oh Hawks is working on that one! I'll call to see if you can get buzzed in, but no need to worry. He is our fastest and most skilled mechanic, so your car will be good as new as soon as he's done."

The boy's voice becomes the slightest bit animated and you feel your annoyance tone down. But you didn't care if it was "good as new," just as long as you could get home safe.

"Okay, thank you."

His fingers quickly punch into a corded phone before a voice comes on the other line.

"He said it should be done in 2, but you're more than welcome to go in."

You nod and thank the teen before stumbling past wired gates and stray cigarettes before finding your car. It looks damn good. Originally a somewhat hand-me-down from your mother to yourself, it was always beautiful on the outside. The silhouette was a classic thing. real sleek and "real groovy" according to your mother. But the upsides stopped at the exterior.

The ac was loud, and the radio was spotty. Even the leather seats were chipping, despite the multitude of repairs you've paid for out of pocket.

But now the car looks brand new. The shell of your car is clean and shiny. When you open the door, you're pleasantly surprised by the smell of musky cologne and your clean linen car freshener, and even more surprised when you can't see where the patches of missing leather are. you almost let yourself smile before realizing this might be a scam to force you to pay for the advancements.

You're too busy peeking into your interior to notice another person walking up.

"Is this ya car, or you lookin' for a ride to jack?"

You flinch slightly but recover yourself well enough to turn to face the deep voice and a rush of heat flushes over you. Sharp amber eyes run over your figure as you busy yourself with getting a good look at the man leaning against the bumper of your car. messy blonde hair, healthy tan, scruff, and muscular. All things you like, except (so far) his personality.

"And you are?"

"The mechanic, doll," He replies in a "duh" voice, slipping his arms out of his dirtied blue denim overalls and crossing them over the other. You don't miss how his biceps flex slightly at the gesture.

"You got anything else to ask, or are you jus’ gonna keep checking me out?"

"I wasn't checking you out."

"Whatever makes you feel better," He laughs, walking up only to lean on the steel table behind you.

"Look this is my car-" He cuts you off by reading your name off a stray paper that has dirt and oil on it, raising an eyebrow and you nod a confirmation.

He offhandedly purrs something about the name being pretty, and you have to consciously ignore the burn in your cheeks.

"Just tell me how much the repair is gonna cost," the question comes out with a sigh, and now it's your turn to cross your arms. It's done out of attitude, but when his eyes lower to focus on your chest, electricity trickles down your spine.

"You gonna answer or keep checking me out?"

coughing and readjusting himself on the table, he tells you $110.

"Are you kidding? The oil change was 60!"

"I did a whole lot besides an oil change, doll"

"without my consent! This has got to be illegal!" 

"Well, how about this?" he says, moving closer to you, and you can now see just how much he dwarfs you in size. "You pay $40 bucks, and let me take you out to dinner."

well... that wasn't something you were expecting.

"I don't know you."

"I know."

"You don't know me."

"Let's change that then." He says. The smirk he has is toothy and could almost be seen as sweet if he didn't just try to scam you out of $50. After another beat of silence, he talks again.

"Don't be brutal, doll. You know you're just as excited to see where this goes."

"I don't usually date scammers." You finally say, but it's meek and you instantly regret it because all he does is smile wider.

"There's a first for everything."

... 

You don't know why you agreed and gave him your number and address. But you did. You also don't know why you're wearing such an expensive dress and perfume. Or why you're putting on makeup. But you are. It was all too elaborate for a one-off date with a random man. Nevertheless, here you were, crouching down to put your bobby pins in your hair because your dress didn't allow for enough movement.

There are three quick knocks at your door before you hear Hawk's voice. 

"I'm starving, doll. Don't leave me like this." 

Bastard

You quickly give yourself a one-over and head to the door. When you open it you see Hawks, except he looks different. His hair is neatly brushed back, and he swapped his stronger cologne for a much more elegant one that matches even better with yours. simple suit and tie with square-cut earrings.

"you look good" he looks better than good, but you don't wanna say anything that'll inflate his ego more.

"you look perfect," and he punctuates it by saying your name instead of 'doll' and you like the way it sounds more than you thought.

Hovering over you now with one arm on the doorframe. He stretches out a hand with a small grin.

"May I? " You place your hand in his.

"You May."

...

5 things you've learned about Hawks Keigo so far

1. his real name is Keigo, hawks being a nickname he got in his youth because of his speed and eyes

2. his hand is much larger than yours

3. he has great taste in restaurants

4. his favorite food is yakitori (a new favorite of yours too)

5. he's ready to go back to your place

"How was your food?"

"It was actually... great"

"C'mon, don't act all reluctant! This restaurant has never done me wrong!" He says as you shift the air conditioner to fan your face and turn the radio up a bit.

"Right, yakitori connoisseur. I can see why you'd take your dates here."

"You're the first." He says emphasizing the last part with a sly look over to your spot in the passenger seat of his Mercedes. It's an admission that has a smile threatening to find a home on your lips, but you turn your head to face outside the window and he chuckles knowingly.

"Or are you saying this should now be the spot? Cuz I could make that work."

"You sure know how to ruin a mood." You're laughing at his feigned hurt expression as he steers with one hand while the other goes over his heart.

"How rude!" He says before the hand over his heart falls to your thigh and suddenly you're hyperaware of how warm he is. "I'll make sure this spot is special to just you."

If the hand on your thigh wasn't enough, the sincerity of his tone has you reeling and reaching over his middle console to kiss him. Soft, short, and sweet on his cheek. You can hear his breath hilt and the smell of his cologne is stronger. When you pull back, you can see the mark of your lipstick on his cheek. And his hand squeezes your thigh tighter.

"You're driving me crazy, doll."

"...was that a pun because you're driving?"

"What?"

"I said-" 

he dramatically turns up the radio and you roll your eyes when he excessively mouths 'I can't hear you!' 

"YOU'RE LUCKY THIS SONG IS GOOD!" you yell into his ear and he laughs, drawing circles onto your thigh with his thumb. The ride back to your apartment is shorter than you'd like, but at least he walks you up to your door, right?

"I don't usually invite scammers into my house."

"yeah?" he asks, hands already on your waist and head tilted.

"but there's a first for everything, isn't there?"

"id like that," he says, smiling down at you as you walk backward into your living room.

His lips are feverish on yours, tongue exploring as deep as it can into your mouth until his and your lips are purple and swollen before drawing purple bruises all over your neck and chest, just over your tits. Your body is hot and you hurriedly pull your arms out of your dress and shimmy it off-eliciting a pleasured hum when he finds that you're not wearing a bra- as he quickly tosses his button-up and jacket before his lips are back onto yours. Your hands wrap around Keigo's neck and his hands cup under your ass and lift you up.

"First door on your right." 

Following your instructions, he walks with you to his arms to your room and tosses you on the familiar sheets of your bed.

"Do you want this?" he asks, hands working on his belt

"Please."

His jaw clenches, and in a second he's bare in front of you.

And big. Much bigger than you think you can take. Thick veins wrap around his cock and you can tell he shaved just for tonight. He runs a finger up and down your clothing slit. Your lips part and a soft sigh rolls off your tongue.

"Don't be a tease."

"Yes ma'am," his finger hooks on the edge of your lace panties and slides them off before running his cock up and down to gather your slick with a quiet groan. Without warning, he slides into you, and you're both vocal. after letting you adjust to his length, he slowly starts moving inside of you, then faster and you're whining around him.

"so pretty," comes out a gasp when his hands pull your legs over his shoulders.

"yer so pretty. And yer the tightest lil' thing I've ever had. Why don't we make an h-habit of this, hmm?" 

"The sex or–fuck–dinner?" You ask, trying to slow the coil in your gut with deep breaths.

"Both."

"That sounds like dating." 

"It's not–shiit"

"How so?" You ask, moaning into the back of your hand when he switches his angle and hits that spot that has you seeing stars.

"You don't date scammers," he says and you would laugh if you didn't have drool sliding down the side of your mouth. His eyes flicker to it and when he licks it up, only to kiss it back into your mouth, and your nails find his back and rake over the skin in an attempt to ground yourself.

"So...what...' bout...it," he asks between kisses and you roll your eyes. When you don't answer, he grunts and stalls all movements.

"What-"

"Answer me and I'll move." 

His eyes widen as he watches you move up and down on your own.

"Stubborn," he whispers out, still wide-eyed when his lips split into a grin. "you won't be able to fuck yerself the way I do it. So just be good 'nd-"

"Yes." you bite out. Your pride feels robbed, but you can tell he's right when you feel your stomach ache.

"Yes, what?"

He's moved again, but it's too slow for your liking and leaves you irritated. You're exactly where he wants you, and so—reluctantly — you mutter:

"Let's make this a habit!" 

An uncharacteristically soft hand cups your cheek and your stomach twist.

"I knew you could be good for me," he says, lips pressing into the side of your mouth and you're writhing. 

Speeding up again, you feel that familiar flame of pleasure ignite within you and tangle your hands into his blonde strands. The room is filled with slaps and moans and if you weren't so fucked out, you might've been able to hear your headboard knocking against the wall and how the mess of your nightstand slightly bounces from the source. Praises are whispered in between messy thrusts and you try your best to focus on the sweat running down your back to let the feeling of him inside you last longer, but your toes are curled and can taste blood from how hard you’re biting down on your lip. 

“Don't shy away now, I love that pretty voice of yours,” and his face looks so much in ecstasy that when his tip hits that spot in you again a pornographic moan leaves your lips, and the flood of pleasure hits you is as foreign as it is blissful. You almost gave no control of yourself. barely hushing yourself, barely able to unravel your legs from around his hips, all too consumed in your high. But Keigo is no better. When your legs ease the hold around his hips, he hurriedly pulls out, but not fast enough, and globs of white spray onto your pussy and all over your chest, even up to your neck. He can only pump himself a few more times before he's falling on top of you with a huff, knocking the air out of you. 

"U-P!" you gasp out, hitting his chest until he rolls over with a sheepish look.

"'M sorry," is all that he says before narrowing his eyes when you giggle.

"Didn't know nutting took that much energy out."

"me neither," he says, joining in on your giggles with a squawk-like laugh that makes you laugh even harder. "I've never come that hard."

"I'm flattered." You purr, smiling up at the ceiling. "I don't think ill be able to walk for a couple of days myself."

And you were joking, but when he laughs and hoists himself up with a hand on your thigh, the soreness humbles you and you realize there's more truth to that statement than you care to admit. You point to the bathroom and he nods, disappearing and reappearing with a damp rag and cleans you up. 

"How do you like your baths?"

"Warm." you twitch when he wipes over a sensitive part, earning a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

When he's done, he moves back into your bathroom and you can hear him turn on the faucet, and you stretch to your legs until the water is turned off and he's scooping you into his arms. When you've finished, he offers to carry you back to bed, but you insist on getting back on your own, even if your legs felt a bit wobbly. You slip into something comfortable while he puts on what he had on before, only now it's wrinkled. You expect him to leave immediately after he's dressed.

"what are you going to watch me sleep?"

"just waiting for you to invite me to stay the night"

"not gonna happen," you say and laugh at the way he pouts. "next time, maybe." And now you're laughing harder at how quickly his expression changed to a smile.

He leans down to kiss you long and slow, pulling away to leave a peck on your cheek. 

"Same time next week?" he asks, giving you another peck, this time along your cheek. You mumble an affirmation, eyes blissfully shut as his lips move to our neck.

"and the one after that. " And he's grinning against you again when he says this.

"Overzealous, don't ya think?" not missing the glint in his eyes when they meet yours again. Same gold that seems to shimmer close up.

"Just makin' a habit of it." Is all he says, same beautiful eyes looking down at you, same lopsided grin, now pretty purple marks on his neck. 

And all you can do is say,

"okay, same time next week."

[eunjidrabbles]

hi <3 i wanna request a jennie imagine fluff where y/n is stressed over work and jennie is comforting her

Holiday blues

(Merry Christmas and Happy holidays 😘 xoxo hope y'all enjoy. This is a little shorter than usual because I was hopping back and forth between fics. Edit: this is the last time i do the scheduling thing i don’t know what im doing with it. Back to manually posting I go)

Warnings: Retail work, capitalism (ew 😔), be nice to workers, especially during holiday seasons

Word count: About 1.1k

-

You love your job. You tell that to yourself every other day. It's not the easiest or nicest of jobs out there but you loved it. It kept a roof over your head, meals on your plate, there shouldn’t be much to not like about. Yet as you trudge down the dim corridor and slowed to a stop outside your apartment, you felt your shoulders sag when you tiredly raised a hand to punch in the access code. Even the lack of response from one of the keys failed to pull anything more than a sigh from you.

Holidays were meant to be the happiest periods as it would mean being together with family and friends, and the ones you love the most. Yet your job was sort of a noble one. Holidays were the periods where you had to work the hardest due to the influx of last minute shoppers. The store you worked in remained opened through the holidays for those in need of a forgotten gift. As rough as it was facing impatient and anxious customers, you could only do your best to help. 

Stepping in to see your home lit up surprised you slightly but your fight or flight instincts were numb from all the work you did. Continuing on in, you turned your head to see a familiar figure sitting on the kitchen counter, eyes wide when they land on yours. Watching her set aside the mug in her hands, she slid her way along the wooden flooring to you, eyes filled with concern as she pulled you closer. Observing that you weren’t responsive to her touch, she glanced towards the clock with a slight grimace before gently guiding you to sit on the sofa. Once she had you seated, she rushed into the kitchen once again. Feeling yourself curl inwards, you realized that you were shivering, probably from exhaustion. The look on your girlfriend’s face made more sense to you then.

“Jagi?”

Hearing your pet name being called, it took you a second to register and turn your head. Your girlfriend was standing by the sofa, both hands occupied with a mug each. A random thought crossed your head on how domestic the situation was, seeing her in an oversized shirt that covered her shorts and mid-thigh stockings as she pouted down at your lack of a reply.

Giving her a lopsided grin, you reached your hand up in an attempt to pull her down for a kiss only for a warm mug to be placed in your hold. Carefully bringing it down to your level, you stared at the fluffy white sweets floating atop the warm brown liquid. Only then did Jennie make her way around to sit beside you and sip at her own mug, humming slightly in pleasure. Slowly bringing your own mug towards your lips, the steam brought warmth to your cheeks, and sipping it spread the sweetness across your tongue and brought life back into your cold body. It was then did you feel your body truly go lax as the memories of the day run through your mind, how hectic everything was, how rude the customers were, and how it was only the start of the holiday week and that meant that you had a long week to go before you could truly rest.

Before you know it, tears were already rolling down your cheeks and along with it came the exhaustion and stress of knowing that the week will only remain the same, if not worse as the holidays approach. Cupping the warm mug in your hands, you tried to ground yourself, reminding yourself that these rough times only happen a few times a year and that it was going to be alright. Repeating those words in your head until you felt hands cup your own, you opened your eyes to see your girlfriend trying to relax your grip on the mug to take it away from you. Releasing it shakily, she placed the mug on the nearby coffee table and came back to hold both your hands in hers as she shifted closer to you.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s a rough time for you.”

Allowing for yourself to slowly fall into her arms as she pulled you closer, you then let out a choked sob. You knew you were the safest with Jennie, and she would always be by you to support your wishes. The both of you have talked about the working situation a couple times and even argued at the start. She has a much more stable and higher-earning job than you did but you didn’t want to freeload off of her wealth. You told her that all you needed was for her to support you by being there, and she never failed to do so. It wasn’t easy but you worked your way up into a managerial position, yet the troubles and stress never stopped piling up. There were times that you wanted to give up, but went against the thought after remembering that you worked so hard for so long to get to where you were. So you choose to find your solace in your girlfriend, the one you know you can come home to every night. 

There weren’t many words that needed to be shared whenever you two were together. It was hard to explain, but having Jennie around felt like a puzzle piece slotting perfectly into place; like she was meant to be by you, to be with you as different of universes as you two belonged in.

Yet as you slowly sat back up with tear stains smeared all over your face and eyes probably red and swelling from the crying, you watched as Jennie still looked at you as if you were the last star in the night sky while she tries to help you clean up. As her eyes met yours once again, her hands paused in their motions to gently cup your cheek, and you leaned into her touch.

“I know you are strong, baby. I know you can get through this, and I’ll be right by you whenever you need for me to.”

Nodding in agreement, you shifted to straddle her and wrapped your arms around her, face buried in the crook of her neck as hers made their way around your waist. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you reopened them to look out the window, just in time to see the first sights of snowfall from the night skies. Soft and white, just like the little marshmallows that floated atop the mug of hot chocolate she made. Just like the warmth of comfort she provides.

[pastelwell]

OMG I ABSOLUTELY FREAKED WHEN I SAW THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF U AND REB WORKING TOGETHER!!!!

Just wondering where u will post it and also can u give us an idea of when u might post it. IM SORRYYYY IM SO IMPATIENT 😭😭😭 ILYSM

ALSO I SECOND THE PREVIOUS ANON EXCEPT I ABSOLUTELY WILL PASS OUT FROM EXCITEMENT AHJSKWK

😭 you guys, ILYSM2!!! You are all slaying me with how enthusiastic and excited you are, I am sooo thrilled :3

I will give you as much info as I can without giving too much away:

🩷 we’re pretty sure we’re going to post it digitally on Gumroad with a ‘set your own price’ set up, but with a base price, probably around $15.

🧡 it will be digital only, but if there is appetite for a printed version… we may explore options…

💛 we hope it will be ready to go within the next month or two! I’ve written all the content, I just need to edit it. Reb is finishing some artwork and is going to assemble it into zine format :3 we’re not far off!

💚 it will consist of ten fics, between 3-8k words each, plus a little micro-fic, all PERILOUSLY horny and covering a vast array of topics, themes and kinks 🤭

💜 all fics will have accompanying artwork PLUS some extra artwork of Reb’s thrown in.

💙 we anticipate it will be at least 150 pages :’) maybe quite a bit more 🤪

I can’t wait for you guys to read it and look at it and ENJOY it, it’s gonna be gorgeous ✨

[vxnillite]

fluffy ZNoah drabble

Summary: it's just them training with gay tension and pining i cant come up with titles to save my life, sorry

Word count: 2212

[Edit: ok so i forgot to post this on ig, but then thought to edit it while i was here. nothing much changed, it even got 4 words shorter lol]

"I'm clocking out early today."

Kroi looked up from his work with genuine surprise. "But you're usually the last one out," he said.

Noah talked as they packed a small backpack with their water bottle and a change of clothes. They shrugged. "Z's giving me self-defense training or whatever."

"You agreed?"

"Shocked myself, too, actually." Noah slung a single strap over their left shoulder. "But she did have a point. She doesn't always come along for the school visits, and while the Na'vi are really skilled fighters, I guess it wouldn't be a bad thing if I were able to defend myself."

Grace emerged from the adjoined room. She looked oodly smug as she asked, "Is that the only reason?"

Noah raised a brow. "Should there be another?"

Kroi and Grace exchanged looks but said nothing. The latter smiled and patted Noah on the shoulder.

"Well, you've done enough at the lab today," she said, "Great work, as always."

The young scientist couldn't help but blush a bit, a bubble of pride swelling in their chest. They smiled. "Thanks, Grace."

"Alright, go get your strictly necessary training."

Kroi beamed, "See you at dinner, Noah!"

A slightly perplexed Noah waved goodbye as they left through the vacuum doors of the lab. They haven't told a soul, but they'd begun to notice the weird pattern of reaction whenever they mentioned the soldier to their friends, but Noah had never thought much of it, except that it was probably just a bunch of friendly yet fruitless teasing.

When the doors hissed to a close, then the other two scientists burst into lighthearted laughter.

"How are they so clueless," Kroi mused, "Z-Dog could outright tell Noah and they still wouldn't believe her."

"I made a bet with Dr. Patel that Noah might notice in two weeks."

The doctor mentioned chimed in from the other room, "You might as well hand me the money now, Dr. Augustine. That kid's never gonna notice that soldier girl's got a crush on them."

----------

Noah's phone buzzed incessantly while they were on their way to the SecOps wing, much to their annoyance. They already knew who was blowing their phone up and thought it better to just walk the entire way in relative peace. A few paces later, their phone still wouldn't shut up, so Noah yanked their phone out of their pocket and read the messages.

'u out yet?'

'where r u'

'hurry up im bored'

'stop ignoring my texts'

'damn u slow'

"Puta, ingay," Noah muttered to themselves as they punched in a response.

'omw :P'

'walk faster'

'no'

'oh i forgot'

'short legs ;)'

With a sharp click of the tongue, Noah quickly shoved their phone back in their pocket. The thought of just turning right back around and heading to their sleeping quarters instead seemed rather enticing now. As of late, Z had become bolder with teasing Noah around like that, and it's been driving them insane. The dumb jokes and that stupid laugh she made whenever she got a reaction out of Noah… All of it would be stuck in their head for hours, and Noah didn't know how to deal with it.

They started walking faster as they recognized the corridor leading to the SecOps training rooms. The volume of soldiers passing by was growing by the meter. Noah could feel the confused looks that some were throwing at them, while others, thankfully, seemed like they didn't give a crap about the scientist.

Noah looked closely at the room labels placed above the doors, trying to recall the room number Z had told them to go to—without much success.

Just how many training rooms do a bunch of these grease monkey musclebrains need?

Unfortunately, after racking their brain a bit more in vain, Noah had no choice but to ask Z. They were impatient enough as is, and they genuinely couldn't remember that tiny bit of information to save their life. They groaned as they pulled their phone back out of their pocket.

'room?'

'u forgot? :('

'nvm im going back'

Somewhere beside Noah, a bubblegum popped. "And, here I thought you were excited for training."

Noah jumped back a bit at Z just suddenly materializing in front of them. How did they not notice her?

Quickly composing themselves, Noah cleared their throat and said, "Stop playing games already. You were the one telling me to hurry up, weren't you?"

Z chuckled as she ruffled the scientist's hair. "Just wanted to see you sooner," she said, "Is that so wrong?"

Noah frantically pushed the hand off their head and looked around at the crowd in a panic. "Ugh, can you even hear yourself," they chided in hushed tones, "Just—! Let's just get to training already!"

They stormed off, and Z, knowing better, chased after Noah and pulled them along to the training room they'd be using, which was in the opposite direction that Noah was marching off to. Upon arrival, Noah checked first if it was empty. It was one of their conditions for this series of self-defense training with Z. The latter agreed, actually finding it ideal for her, too.

Satisfied that there was nary a human being in the room aside from them, Noah put their backpack down on a bench and plopped down beside it.

They looked up at Z expectantly. "So, what are we gonna do first," they asked.

Z stood across them, arms crossed under her chest. "First, have you ever had any sort of physical training before?"

Noah recounted their experiences on their fingers. "Failed high school phys-ed, used medical notes throughout college… Oh, and Kevin tried teaching me, but I guess I was a terrible student because I didn't learn shit."

"Oh, wow," Z chuckled, "We better get started then." 

The soldier cocked her head towards the small black bin by the door and spat the gum in her mouth straight in. The small spectacle shouldn't have been of any note to Noah, but it was. The fact lingered in the back of their mind, but they did their best to not let it show.

"Warm-up first," Z said as she motioned Noah over to the mat, "Some basic stretches can't be too hard for you, right?"

Noah snickered, "Don't count on it yet."

"Alright, nerd. Just follow my lead."

Z started doing some basic stretches. Noah seemed to be following along okay, but they kept tumbling over or losing their balance. At some point, it concerned Z, and she stopped stretching. When she spared Noah a little exasperated stare, the scientist stood up and looked back at her, confused.

"What's wrong?"

"Do the stretch we just did."

Although their brow was still raised, Noah just shrugged, then went back into the stretch. Z walked around them, humming in thought. When she came back to her spot, she had her conclusion.

"Your posture sucks, Noah," she said, trying not to laugh.

Noah immediately straightened up and clutched their braids, their eyes averted from Z in embarrassment in a fruitless attempt to hide their blushing face and ears. "Stop fucking giggling, you pinhead," they retorted, "It's not that bad!"

"Dude," the soldier wheezed, "It's why you keep falling over. It is that bad."

Noah twisted on their heel and began to storm off when Z caught their shoulders, then pulled them back towards the mat. "Don't just give up like that, idiot," she chuckled, "I didn't say I wouldn't help you."

"Still took a fucking sweet time to mock me, though," they huffed as they were dragged.

Z let them settle their feet back on the mat. "Alright, now do the stretch again."

"No."

"Noah."

"Ugh, fine."

A snarl and a string of curses came through as Noah redid the stretch. Z told them to relax as she went behind them and started correcting Noah's stance. But when she went to try and hold onto Noah's side, they jerked back and made a noise between a squeak and a yelp.

Noah, absolutely mortified, looked back at Z. It took the soldier a few seconds to process what she'd just heard.

"Was that… Was that you?"

Noah could feel their ears burning as frustration and humiliation created chaos within them. "You didn't fucking hear that!"

Z absolutely heard it, and she was suddenly in hysterics. "Noah, you're ticklish? Hah!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Oh my god. That's just cute," Z smirked, "Who would've thought?"

Noah thought their ticklishness was something stupid, embarrassing, and totally unbecoming of them — but never 'cute'. That tiny comment echoed in Noah's head, as well as the loud pounding of their heart. It felt extremely weird that, no matter how hard they thought, they couldn't come up with anything to snark back at Z with. So they just stood there, stunned, hair pulled over their reddened ears. The same couldn't be done to hide their face though, as it burned a deep, cherry red.

"You're blushing," the soldier teased.

Noah hissed, "I know that!"

Z's laughter trailed into a softer chuckle, then she asked, "How sensitive are you?"

Silence.

Z put a hand on her waist, looking expectantly at Noah. "I'm not trying to tease. I'm asking so I know how to help you in training."

Noah answered reluctantly, "It's really bad when I'm taken by surprise, like what you did just now. But I think if I see it coming…  it wouldn't bother me as much."

Having absorbed that little bit of information, Z went behind Noah again. As she guided them into the right position, she'd tell Noah beforehand if she was going to touch them and where. Noah still jerked back on reflex, but they tolerated the annoying tingling sensations until they actually eased into a sense of comfort. The feeling of Z's firm, heavy grip lingered on the areas she would touch, and it rendered Noah quite complacent to the soldier's instructions and helplessly flustered from the tiniest bits of praise.

When they got through the warm-up, Noah could barely feel their muscles burning over the heat they felt in their face. As soon as Z stepped away from them, Noah ran to the bench and chugged their water, purposefully turned away from Z as they mentally tried to calm themselves down.

It wasn't working that well.

"If you were that thirsty, you could've told me," Z said, both teasing and concerned. "And, don't drown yourself."

Noah drank almost the entire bottle of water and was panting as if they'd run a marathon when they put the tumbler down. They wiped away any stray water trails with the back of their hand, then turned back around to face Z.

"What's next," they huffed, expression steeled as if they weren't blushing crazily just moments ago.

Cute, Z thought. She stifled her laughter out of consideration for Noah's determination. "Alright, we'll start with the basics: just punching and kicking. Nothing too complicated"

An hour later, Noah was lying spread-eagled on the mat, drenched in sweat and eyes closed as they struggled to catch their breath. Every muscle in their body was screaming and Noah listened to their plea. They stayed still on the mat while Z looked on.

She snickered, "So, want to move on to lesson 2?"

Noah raised a middle finger at her, only for it to drop back down on the mat. They earned a hearty laugh from the soldier.

Z got her tumbler and Noah's towel from their bag, then handed both items to them, whom she had to pull up to a sitting position. They flung the towel on their head and started chugging down the bottle. It was empty in seconds.

"Ah, shit," they muttered, frowning at the empty bottle. Then they looked up at Z, their gaze soft and apologetic. "Sorry about that."

Z sat beside them. "Nah, it's fine," she said, "I've got an extra bottle in my bag."

"I'm real shitty at this physical stuff," Noah sighed. Training was rough, but halfway through it , they actually started having fun. They had to admit—and they really didn't expect it—their teacher was a pretty good one. But they couldn't help but feel bad about being so crap at following her directions at times.

Z laughed, "Yeah, you are." She patted Noah on the back and smiled. "But, you did good today. Tripped a few times, but hey, baby steps, right?"

Noah lightened up at the comment. "Right," they nodded. "Oh, by the way, I've got a pack of bubblegum in my bag. It's your favorite."

"You remember my favorite bubble gum flavor?"

"Uh, yeah, 'cus you're never not chewing on one."

Z suddenly tackled Noah into a headlock, laughing loudly as they tried to squirm out from under her arm to no avail.

"Isn't that sweet of you," she chuckled.

"Gago, bitawan mo nga 'ko!" [T/N: Let go of me!]

They tried pushing her off, but Noah's arms were twigs in strength compared to Z's. Yet as they cursed out the soldier, Noah was grinning and laughing along with her. Eventually, Z loosened her arm around their neck, and rested it over their shoulder. They didn't try to remove it.

"Same time tomorrow," they asked.

"You don't mind?"

Noah shook their head. Z grinned.

"It's a date, then."

[bonejunky6669]

adding on 3:

i went all out with making Nat a punk. canonically she has an interest in music, but i think this is a character trait that would be cool to expand upon. music would be a comfort to her, especially angry and expressive music. i included 90s grunge and punk band patches on her jacket- i love this genre myself so i chose bands i think Nat would listen to. i also think she would be more attached to her walkman and carries it everywhere with her. i mentioned above that she would be learning how to play music outside of soccer, probably the guitar.

i included a lot of piercings on her because it almost seems out of character for her to canonically not have any piercings lol. i gave her a few of my favorites including angel bites and a nose chain. some jacket spikes and the spike bracelet just added some extra edge, and the black doc martens are a given.

i love a lot of Nat's outfits in the show, so with her especially i have taken different pieces and combined them. i was worried the black and white plaid pants would clash with the stripped purple shirt, but i think they actually look really good together, and those combined with the orange headphones creates a more colorfully diverse piece that feels mismatched and thrown together- in a good way.

this was actually my first time fully drawing a gun. I've done a few pistol sketches here and there but that's it. So that's what took the longest, but i think it turned out pretty well. Nat has a deeply complicated relationship with guns, a sort of love-hate. her facial expression is discomforted and conflicted but she still grips the gun tightly. guns have taken things from her(her father and innocence), but have also given her things(food and survival). this parallels the cannibalism in the show- the girls are taking their friends away from each other, but are also giving each other the food that they need.

i really wanted to include deer antlers in the piece. my initial idea was for them to be attached to her headband, but it didn't look good and i was getting impatient so i left them out. when im finished with all of the characters and i go back and do some edits and improvements, I'll probably try and include antlers in another way. i also regret not including any YJ memorabilia on her, but i can only do so much and i dont want her design to be crowded.

honestly this design has been the least symbolic so far, but that's why when i go back and do editing i might change a few things.

im redesigning the Yellowjackets(90s versions) so i thought i would share some of my brainstorm ideas for new designs

im going to draw one(out of seven) character every day. i really love all the actors and outfits in the show, but i want to take them a step further to make them more interesting and stylize them into drawn characters. i also think more symbolism could be implemented into their appearances. my notes below are just random little things i want to add, or some more complicated characterization. i would also very much like to read anyone elses ideas!

Shaunas eyebags heavier

Misty wears redcross patch on her jacket and has bandages wrapped around her sleeves and pant legs

Misty wears the most Yellowjacket gear out of anyone because she desperately wants to feel apart of the team(overcompensation).

Jackie wears a lot of jock-like clothing(bomber jacket, jersey, cleats, etc) but does not have the body type or body movement of a jock, like she's overcompensating for her lack of athletic ability compared to everyone else.

Van's scars are much bigger and more jagged. they werent able to sew up the hole in her cheek and her teeth are visible through the hole, and her left eye is permanently discolored(red sclera, yellow iris) and vision has been lost there. she is not a werewolf, but has stylistic traits reminiscent of one, like sharp teeth and nails. represents the ways in which she has been forced to become more feral and animal-like in order to survive.

Van and Tai's cult masks parallel each other and are recreated versions of their doomcoming masks. while their doomcoming masks represent love and new beginnings, their cult masks represent codependancy and death.

Luara Lee wears entirely white throughout her entire time in the wilderness to represent her innocent and "purity". there are moments where her clothes becomed stained(some times with blood) but she always removes the stains with great care(inspired by Fear Street 1978 when Cindy removes red moss stains from her white polo- the white polo representing her heteronormativity, and the red moss representing lesbian desire). she dies without losing this innocence. this symbolism also reinforces the idea that cannibalism represents girlhood and love between girls(blood is a symptom of femininity. to eat is to give into desire).

Tai becomes more contridictory of herself in her appearence as time goes on and her sleepwalking-self becomes more prominent. clothes with contridictory colors/patterns, Gemini themes.

give van even more butch energy

Lottie wears clothes and accessories that are more witch-like and reminscent of nature. fur jacket, bones and antlers, leaves used to tie clothing together.

make Nat more punk. piercings, band patches on her leather jacket. not design related but i think it would be cool if she played an instrument, like practiced guitar on the down low when shes not playing soccer.

[gettingfrilly]

You’ve answered most of them already but E (young wild and ed), H, L, R. Thanks!

Hi hello ty :)

E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about?

edd getting high a not panic inducing amount and bumpin ugglies with eddy

H: How would you describe your style?

RUSHED lol. gotta get to the juicy bits. im def more action and dialogue oriented, too impatient for lots of exposition or more flowery prose. i also try really hard to show, not tell, à la the robot devil's advice.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

not enough! like i said before, i'm very impatient lol. need to get the content out so i can get the dopamine hits from engagement. i do make sure to slowly read my fic out loud to myself at least once, tho. and i usually go back and read bits to myself frequently while writing. i'm not a first draft kind of person, it's all one draft that i'm continuously rereading and editing while writing.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

D.J. MacHale (specifically his Pendragon series) and, for better or worse, James Patterson ( specifically how he writes Maximum Ride.) I devoured those books when I was a kid so they definitely inform how I write today. also, loath i am to admit it, there's probably some jk rowling in my writing too, considering how many times i read and reread the harry potter books as a kid. now that i think about it, all my favorite book series as a kid were about teenagers fighting against fascism.

as for fanfic authors, silentwalrus on ao3 is a huge inspiration and someone i aspire to write like.

also i really can't not mention Takumi Miyajima when talking about writing. Tales of Symphonia is my favorite game of all time, and when dabbling with ideas for original fiction, ToS's plot and story themes are a HUGE inspiration.

[melonsharks]

gonna uhhh explain? the homestuck hlvrai classpects? (is bubby space just cuz he likes space? lmao)

sure. lets go from “Im Most Sure This Works” to “I Dunno About This And Im Open To Spitballing.”

benrey: bard of void. the void aspect is so reliant on mystery and secrets and the unknown and it just immediately screamed benrey to me... whereas bards are like. careless, easy-going in personality usually, and it was what immediately stood out to me. Their whole thing is that they while they are very “nothing matters i do what i want” if they let meaninglessness consume them (im a bad and thats all ill ever be), they will become the big bad (thank u to my pal after for spitballing w me). this is the one that was both like Stand Out obvious to me and also the one I needed to do less research for. Bard of Void. Yeah.

gordon: maid of blood. maids usually rely on others for their aspect, for unity and connection. their whole thing is learning to rely on themselves to really get into like. the natural leadership role that is befitting for blood players. in gordon’s case, for this planet, gordon relies a lot on the structure the planet hierarchy and his job gives him. Especially given his lowblood status. so his whole goal is letting go of the dependency on those structures that don’t really matter so he can become a dependable leader instead of a dependent one. (super special thanks again to after for spitballing w me about gordon in particular, i was really unsure about this one and then he blew my mind with blood aspect.)

coomer: seer of time. always aware of time, always aware of things they probably shouldn’t be. when i think SEER, i think existential crisis. they’re always aware of how much time is passing and how much time they have left, the ambiguity of destiny and fate and which timeline is the right one. i originally picked seer when making my assessment and fuckgindjk accidentally switched darnold and coomer when making my original notes and i am, obviously, WAY more positive about this one because its the one I actually picked. DSKFJ but. seer of time. associating the fact that coomer has seen whats out there (there’s nothing there) + the fact that he consistently gave the ETA for the lambda lab makes this make the absolute most sense to me.

tommy: witch of hope. witches tend to be happy and bubbly and capable of fooling other people into thinking they’re harmless whether intentional or not! it seemed fitting to me. hope seemed right! He’s an unwavering source of hope throughout the series, this is why gordon trusts him so much in the first place. everything! is going! to be okay! mr. freeman!

bubbbby: thief of space. bubby is a thief idk what to say bubby is ABSOLUTELY a thief ok. thieves are egocentric, have CONFIDENCE in their aspect and but hide their insecurities. now space…..YEA OK SO WHAT IF I DID PICK IT BECAUSE HE LIKES SPACE? Look, space players, thief of space in particular, they’re pretentious, impatient, and take up a lot of space because they want to. Also he LIKES SPACE OK? And it is opposite to time, which is Coomer’s!! WE NEED BOTH FOR THIS SESSION TO WORK OKAY 😔

(Edited the order of these to reiterate that I wrote them down from most sure to least sure, coomer did get moved over tommy because Yeah ok my brain is making sense now.)

i usually look at dahniwitchoflight for aspect stuff cuz their analysis is really good, so! UMM UM. Yeah ok thats it for now.

[umaruwastaken]

I wont leave you, I'm sorry. [short fluff & angst]

: hi, I'm Umaru! im very new to Tumblr and still don't know my way around the app, im pretty sure im missing something with the editing so if you have tips please do tell me :], enjoy!

Synopsis; Clay had announced his relationship with his partner,it was well until you received severe hate, clay was keeping in the anger and accidentally let it out on you.

!!TW!!:Shouting, cursing, panic attack.

↱💚Dream💚↰

→ You tucked your hair out of your face, staring intently in the ceiling... this week isn't the best week for you and your boyfriend.

everything started when he had told his fans about you and you guys' relationship, some were happy and supportive while others didn't take it too well, they were raging... you had received hate and death threats, you tried to remain calm and ignore it convincing yourself that they will forget about it in the next few weeks, but to your dismay, things have been worse, not just with clay's fans but with you two as well.

In the first weeks of getting severe hate, he was there and ready to shower you with comfort and affection, but he suddenly got too busy which makes you feel lonely, but of course you didn't wanna intrude with his career so you let him be, constantly trying to keep the relationship going through a lot of fights have occurred, it started getting worse where you won't even talk to each other without arguing... it was frustrating, but now you had decided that you wanna talk things out with him and fix the mess you both had created.

You're currently waiting in your room, clay's still streaming and have been extremely loud, you missed your chill days with him where you'd just cuddle and whisper soothing words to each other's ear but you haven't talked for the past days and if you do it'll just end up to an argument, You stood up from your bed figuring that he would end stream soon, so you decided to wait in the living room.

_------_------_

After a solid two hours, you had grown impatient, he hadn't left his room though you well know that he had ended his stream since you were watching it...

you sighed finally having the courage to scurry to his room with slight disappointment written on your face...

you had started making dinner and finished.

you knocked three times, waiting expectantly for an answer and receiving none... you knocked again and voiced out this time.

"Clay, dinner's ready," you mutter having hopes that he will answer this time.

sighing once again, you opened the door to see him faced in front of his setup, talking to his friends... he looked over your way with no expression.

"what?" he asked, coming out a little bit too rude for your liking despite waiting for him for 2 hours straight, you decided to be kind and not match his temper for today.

"dinner's ready" you softly mumbled at him.

he turned back to his computer "you go eat, ill come down later." he said before unmuting his mic to talk with sapnap and George once more.

"But, it's been hours and you haven't turned that pc off, you need to eat." he clearly heard your complaint but still chose to ignore you.

"Are you seriously going to ignore me, clay? come on, just this time eat with me," you whined.

"[name], just go... I said ill go down later, eat first." that was his response to your whine, your frown grew deeper as your patience starting to wear off.

"clay! just turn that off and eat."

"I said ill be eating later, go now," he said with a slight hint of annoyance, you can tell that he was running out of patience too... you were too exhausted and just wanted the hugs your boyfriend used to give you, but that computer was your rival, A COMPUTER.

"No, clay, your eyes need to re-"

"can you just shut the f*ck up and go eat for God's sake??! how many times do I have to tell you??! [name] stop being a brat and leave me the f*ck alone!!!"

At this point, you were holding back tears, you were very sensitive with yelling, you had heard something from his pc.

"what the fuck dream?" you heard a familiar voice, which was George.

you sniffled and tried to hold back tears as you wiped those who escaped. "ok... ill go, I'm sorry" you said quietly, taking your leave from his room, as soon as he was out of sight, you sprinted to your room and cried... you tried holding your mouth hoping for the sobs to not be as loud... the voices in your head started speaking.

'he hates you now'

'he'll leave like everyone'

'you were too annoying and clingy'

'he doesn't love you anymore'

'he's tired of you, brat'

she tried stopping them by pulling her hair, starting to have a panic attack.

_________

On the other hand, dream stood in his room functioning what had just happened, you two fought but none ever raised voices nor insulted you like that... he was shocked and shaking as tears threatened to fall from his eyes still hearing his friends nagging.

they had heard everything.

his body trembled thinking that you probably hate him now.

without thinking twice he left the call with nick and George before running out of his room towards yours.

he tried to twist the knob of course its locked, he knocked.

"[name]? baby? please let me in, I'm sorry, I meant nothing of those words! baby? open the door, love... [name] I'm sorry! open the door"

he stopped mid-way hearing her muffled sobs and whimpers.

he started to panic, he went away and grabbed his spare key to your room and frantically opened the door to see you silently crying on the ground, hugging your knees.

he knew how you reacted when a person yells at you, he knew damn well that you were sensitive yet he had failed to take care of you, his mind was full of regret.

tears started falling from his eyes, seeing how much he had hurt you, he was frustrated about the hate and the constant blackmails about being doxxed and shit.

He quickly went towards you and hugged you, he picked you up and sat on the bed with you on his lap.

"Baby, I'm so sorry!" he hugged you tighter rubbing circles on your back.

"I'm a jerk, [name] I'm sorry" he continued kissing the top of your head and held your face to try and face you.

he had seen your face that was stained with tears with a hurtful expression on your face.

"I hate you" you mumbled "I just wanted you to eat, that all" she cried

"I know, I'm sorry baby, I was just stressed... I was frustrated that the hate will make you leave me I'm so sorry!" he explained kissing your forehead, and wiping the tears off your face.

he rested your head on his chest whispering sorry all over and over again, you had stopped the tears and now you have a runny nose

"ill never do that again, [name], I love you... we'll face the haters and continue loving each other, ok? I'm still very sorry, so to make it up to you, we'll spend two days, cuddling! just us, I promise"

he said laying the two of you on your bed. he caressed your cheeks and kissed your nose before moving towards your lips.

"I love you, I love you, I love you" he muttered all over and over kissing every part of your face.

he sighed contently taking a mental note

'must not shout at baby, must protect baby'

[writing-in-april]

Cinematic Coincidences

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

(Spencer’s POV)- listen I just love his POV lol

Summary: Spencer can’t bring himself to go on another date that’s been set up for him- so he stands his date up. Spence seemingly can’t catch a break and runs into the date he stood up.

A/N: Hey heyyy- here’s my seventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!! This one was requested by @andiebeaword (I added a reference for your love of hallmark movies in this hehe)- this is the original request- I tweaked the characters involved just a small bit lol I accidentally end up defaulting to using the people on the dream team lol- im going to start working in later characters in the show into some stuff in upcoming works (I’m also rewatching the later seasons so that’ll help get me inspired) Im always looking for feedback on my fics or really to talk about anything with my followers so feel free to drop into my inbox- here!! Thanks for reading- y’all have been so sweet 🥰 and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: Insecure Spencer, Getting stood up for on a date, Morgan and Garcia (just the team in general) not really understanding Spencer fully, one tiny sexual innuendo- I think that’s it nothing too bad this time around

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.4K

This was not what I wanted to be doing today. Garcia had once again inquired about my love life- along with Morgan of course, wanting to find out about all the juicy details. I didn’t know why they continued to ask when it was obvious that my love life was about as exciting as watching paint dry.

I gave my normal response to these types of inquiries, brushing them off without sounding too hurtful. Unfortunately Garcia would not be satiated by my response, apparently she was now fed up with my dull love life and felt like she needed to be personally involved. Garcia was very near and dear to me, just like Morgan, but I couldn’t deny that this grated my nerves.

“We’ll make you a dating profile too! Maybe you’ll find someone cute to date- or maybe get some?!” Garcia was chipper as usual, with her eyebrows wiggling at her suggestion that I should have a one night stand. All that I felt from her words was dread.

The dangers of online dating swirled in my mind and I tried to protest, it came out more like a stammer though. Morgan then patted me on the back and piped up, giving his own opinion, “Yeah- I think it’ll be good for you, pretty boy.”

Again I wanted to protest, beginning to stammer out another reason why I didn’t think it was a good idea. I sighed heavily when I was cut off again, by Morgan and Garcia already planning on what pictures they were going to upload of me. At least I knew that they had my best interests at heart, they wanted me to be happy with someone- or get some like Garcia had mentioned earlier. Still, it didn’t change the fact that there was no way I’d ever want to go willingly on a date with someone I had met on the internet.

—-

My thoughts had not changed since Morgan and Garcia had set up the dating profile for me. There hadn’t been any person I had been on a date with that had successfully been able to keep me interested beyond a few conversations.

“No luck with the online dating?” Morgan had teased when I had walked in with my head held low. This endeavor was just making me realize how picky and undesirable I was. Why couldn’t I just find someone pretty and be happy with it?

Morgan’s face twisted from a smile into a frown when I didn’t answer him, making my way silently to my desk.

For the rest of the day the team tiptoed around me, sensing my sadness. There was part of me that was angry at them for thinking that I couldn’t handle a few bad dates. But, they were right. I couldn’t handle the sting of rejection or the disappointment of a date that didn’t live up to my expectations.

Emily always seemed to know how to cheer me up, so I did attempt some small conversation in the break room while we were both getting our coffee. She never gave me any pity like the others who just flashed me sad looks, unwilling to make any effort to help- or like Garcia and Morgan, they helped in the wrong way even if their intentions were pure.

Her solution to my problem did make my ears perk up a bit, “Hey- I saw that you’ve been down and that it’s been about the online dating Morgan and Garcia made you get into.” I nodded my head in confirmation then gesturing for her to continue while I poured copious amounts of sugar into my drink. Emily opted for mostly cream instead of sugar, stirring her coffee a little, then continuing her thought,”I wondered how you would feel about being set up on a blind date. It’s someone I know so maybe that would make you feel better about going on it? Instead of having to deal with technology that I know you despise.”

Emily had a way of seeing exactly how I was feeling and not just spitting out facts without solutions like the others. Her solution made me nervous of course, there would probably never be a date that I wouldn’t be nervous for. However, this option made me feel a little bit more hopeful about my prospects in the dating pool. It was someone that she knew and trusted enough to suggest them as a potential match for a coworker. Emily didn’t trust easy, I could trust her judgment on this despite my nerves.

I gulped down a large sip of my overly sweetened coffee, collecting my thoughts before then answering, “Alright- I’ll go.”

—

The date that I was supposed to go on was at a quaint cafe near work. Emily had even made the effort to make sure that I had been there before so I might be more comfortable.

At first I had been extremely excited for the date, even going so far as to pick out my outfit. I would have worn my purple button up, that was the one I got the most compliments in. Emily had told me some stuff that my date was interested in so I made sure to brush up on my knowledge by reading about the topics. I had even called back to the restaurant menu in my mind, preparing myself by picking out what I wanted beforehand. On one of my dates set up through the dating app I had stumbled on my choice for food, making the person unnecessarily snappy. I had to cover all my bases to minimize potential awkwardness on my part.

Self doubt began to creep in after I had gotten fully dressed. I had gotten ready way too early in anticipation for the date, now sitting on my couch tapping my foot impatiently. I looked at my watch that sat over my long sleeves watching the clock tick closer and closed to when I was supposed to leave.

Biting my lip in worry, my mind couldn’t help but wander over into my self doubts. I couldn’t help but ask myself why anyone would want to date someone as tall and lanky as me- or why would someone want to go on a date with someone that couldn’t keep their mouth shut about random topics that no one cared about.

My self doubt swallowed any confidence that I had begun to build up in preparation for the date. I knew Emily would be furious with me tomorrow when I went into work, I didn’t want her to find out through her friend though. Deciding to get it over with I pulled out the phone I never used and texted her, telling her that I wasn’t coming. I told her to give my regrets to my date, who at this point was probably waiting patiently for me at the cafe. Sighing in defeat I then retreated into my bedroom again, crawling under my covers.

——

Emily hadn’t been furious with me- well that was a lie, at first she had stomped up to me the next morning to chew me out. She became more disappointed than anything when she found out my reasonings. She hadn’t mentioned anything about how the person I was supposed to be going on the blind date with felt. Not that I really wanted to hear about it, it would only make me feel worse. All I got from her was a small remark mumbled under her breath, “Idiots- the both of you…”

For the next few weeks I tried in vain to push thoughts of my failed blind date out of my head. I had avoided going in the general direction of the cafe. Luckily I took the metro everyday to work otherwise I’d have to drive by it every day, and I already hated driving.

I was at the bookstore for used booksjust around the corner from the cafe that was supposed to hold my date a few weeks ago. This was the closest I dared to go near it in a while. Since then I hadn’t been able to go there anymore, even though I loved the coffee there. Immense guilt had wormed its way into my brain when I had tried to order something there a week ago. All I had done was stammer at the cashier before bolting out of there, just another addition on the list of embarrassing things that I’ve done in my life.

I was flipping through an old edition of pride and prejudice out of boredom, there hadn’t been anything interesting stocked on the shelves since I had last been here. Then a voice piped up through the air that had a bit of dust flying through it,

“Excuse me, sir- if you’re still looking at that book would you mind if I looked at the ones on the shelf behind you?”

It took me a second before I realized the person was talking to me. I then removed my eyes from the book to blink up at them a few times, then registering what they had said to me and moved out of the way.

Their eyes were still glued to mine, the bookshelf behind me that they had wanted to look at forgotten. An awkward chuckle was all we both could seem to manage as we looked each other up and down. Emily had shown me a picture on her phone of my date so I would have been able to spot them at the restaurant. My cheeks flushed hard once I realized who was standing before me. There was no doubt who this was, the date I had stood up the night before.

Silence then fell between us and not the pleasant kind, it was most definitely awkward. I couldn’t imagine how they must have been feeling after I hadn’t shown up last night. They probably had sat

“Um- hi…” They spoke hesitantly, wringing their fingers in trepidation. My jaw opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with anything to say.

“Hi!” Was all I could manage to squeak out, plus a small wave in their direction.

They wrung their fingers a few more times, seemingly trying to come up with a response. I was surprised they hadn’t hit me with one of the books near them out of anger. It would be a normal response to being stood up for a date, the trepidation and silence just served to unnerve me further. Eventually they spoke again, saving me from anymore awkward silence which in my opinion was worse than awkward conversation, “Um- sorry for um, standing you up uh- a few weeks ago.”

That made my eyes bug out of my head- they had done the exact same thing as I had? Insecurity soon swept in, trying to tell me exactly why they had not shown up without hearing their side of the story. I looked down at the book I was holding, reading a few words for a moment of reprieve. Taking a deep breath I asked quietly, not admitting to my own faults yet, “W-why did you um- not go? If you don’t mind me asking…”

A deep sigh was what I got at first, one that obviously had a lot of stress in it. They then did provide me with an explanation, despite their obvious embarrassment, Well- It had nothing to do with you- a simple explanation would be saying it was my insecurity’s fault.”

Not that I would ever want anyone to feel insecure, but I would admit that them saying that did make my own stress melt away. They had not gone for almost the exact same reasons that me. I decided to be upfront, giving them my own reasoning- though I wasn’t even sure they realized that I hadn’t gone as well. “I don’t know if Emily told you, but I um- stood you up as well. It wasn’t because of anything bad! It was really for the same reason as you.”

They then broke out into giggles after they had processed my words for a second, which were much more relaxed than the awkward ones from before. I didn’t blame them, it was a pretty funny coincidence that we’d both stand each other up only to run into each other not knowing what we had done.

“I feel like we’re in one of those cheesy Hallmark movies right now…” Their comparison only confused me, I had no clue what they were talking about.

“What’s a Hallmark movie?” More giggles came from them at my questioning, though for once I didn’t feel like I was being laughed at. I felt like they were laughing at the whole situation, not at me specifically like so many people had often done. Also, I couldn’t help but admit to myself that their giggle was very cute.

Once their giggles had subsided a little they asked me something that almost no one would ask the person that had stood them up, “Maybe I could tell you over a coffee? If you want to of course- Emily told me about how much sugar you like in it.”

My interest was peaked, making me further regret having stood them up in the first place. Though I tried to push that thought out of the way considering we had both done the same thing. It was time to let that go so I could go on a date with them finally. Seeing them in person and being able to glimpse part of their personality made me want to know more.

“Alright- sure.” I set down the book I had been passively reading, now completely disinterested in it. There was something far more interesting in front of me now compared to a classic book I had read over ten times.

We both walked around the corner, to the cafe that we had originally had our date scheduled at. Conversation flowed easily between us, showing me that Emily had been totally right to set us up initially. Her words now made sense to me, we were both a couple of idiots.

We then got our coffee, which had been much smoother of a transaction compared to the last time I had been here. I took note of how much sugar and cream they liked, just in case we were going to do this again. Sitting down at the closest booth I then asked, “So tell me about Hallmark movies?”

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (Message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith 😡😡😡

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

[generous1ty]

AHHHHHHH!!! I JUST SAW YOUR HEADCANONS OF NAGITO BEING A PHOTOGRAPHER AND IM DBSJHSEH-

Nagito is just so cute and you write him perfectly! I always thought that he’d take pictures of his S/O like the whole time but mostly degrade himself for it but NDVSJDH 💖

Also to your last previous response yes, it was evening I FORGOT DJDGJD- and I understand that you’re impatient with your drafts, but just let me know whenever you need help!! :)

I was thinking about Nagito being a professor now and meeting his S/O, while dreaming about Hajime taking his S/O on a motorcycle at night although it’s not real SJSGJSSH-

BAJSHBAJB I EDITED IT A BIT BECAUSE I FORGOT TO PUT SOMETHING IN THERE

AAA thank you!!! i’m glad you think i write him well! Nagito’s character is very complex, so i always feel like i don’t do him enough justice bdknds- although, yes, his self-degradation rants do happen, he’s improving slowly. :)

also thank you for the offer!! i’ll be sure to keep that in mind.

as for your ideas...

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Literature Teacher Nagito?? BIKER Hajime????

genre: fluff/misc. warnings: suggestive topics, kind of self-deprecating humor(??), mild swearing, gene dying throughout the whole post because what these are so cute

◇         ◆         ◇         ◆        ◇         ◆         ◇         ◆         ◇         ◆         ◇

Nagito as a Literature teacher,,,

loud, stern, harsh yet very kind + caring. the iconic literature teacher that lgbtqia+ kids are naturally drawn to/get along with. that teacher practically everyone has a crush on at least once in high school. absolute icon.

“you’ve gotta get your assignments in, kid. i don’t know what’ll help you or what’s going on, but right now you’ve got a few things missing and we can’t have your grade falling more than it already has,”

HE USES HUMOR AS A WAY TO SELF-DEGRADE HIMSELF i have no idea if that made sense but it’s like um

“now, understand that Francis left her hometown pretty quickly-- just like my first girlfriend. if we put that into context with the events happening in the story now-”

AND I’M BAWLING HE CAN’T BE LIKE THAT

he’s so,, so helpful. you need help? oh, yeah! he’s always open to help you!

just so,,, passionate. he’s so invested in his job and you can see it it’s literally so cute

he can’t deal with middle school kids. he’s either a high school teacher(preferably 10th and up) or a college professor, there is nothing more or less than that

what teacher are you??? it doesn’t matter, he falls in love with you anyway. you listen to his rants about books, you actually read the books he suggested to you?? like “wow this person is so,, amazing wow”

he usually suggests mystery and dystopian books to you, as those are some of the genres that have peaked his interest the most. he knows books of all genres though, so if you ask for a suggestion? he’s got one for you!!

HIS FLIRTING IS SUGGESTING YOU ROMANCE BOOKS and maybe books with some,,, rated X scenes if you catch my drift BAHAHAH

AND HE ALSO leaves little sticky notes in the books to like,, peak your interest in the book again if you’re easily distracted/lose interest easily. they’re just small messages like “i really enjoyed this arc! i hope you do as well. :)” and “you’re almost there!! good job!”

gets you coffee with the books you borrow from him, maybe a pastry if he’s got enough money

please like him he’s doing his best

BIKER Hajime???

BIKER HAJIME ABSKJD

he,,, so fancy,,,, aggressive/distant attitude fits so well with this role and i am LIVING for it

he’s like,,, the big brother of the gang he’s in. very attentive, knows what everyone likes and dislikes, very protective of everybody,,,,

and holy shit is he intimidating but it’s so h o t.

he’s that tall, intimidating boyfriend that scares away all the gross people away from you(especially if he’s jealous).

so,,, so protective,, it can get overwhelming at times, and you have to remind him because he literally doesn’t know that for normal people, being that protective isn’t-- well,,, normal.

has probably been through a lot through the years with the gang, and he’s scared of opening up.

the last time he did that the dude who had disguised himself as a new member had beat him up because he was apart of the rival biker gang, and practically started a war between he two bunches of bikers.

he’s learned to hide and cope with his emotions through excessive violence and aggressive actions-- please show this man how to cope better

i feel like,,, he’d love music. there’s no reason for it(and it’s not that normal Hajime doesn’t enjoy music), it’s just that.. it calms him down. it makes him think in the moment and not “what’ll happen in the future” or “what happened in the past”. it really grounds him; makes him feel... safe.

as for the actual bikes YES HE DRIVES YOU AROUND ON HIS MOTORCYCLE AROUND MIDNIGHT WITH HIS PHONE ON FULL BLAST PLAYING REALLY CALMING MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND yes he does

takes you anywhere you want!! literally

he has this once place where you can see the city, sky, and moon so clearly...it’s breathtaking. it’s a tall cliff on the outskirts of town, about a 30 minute drive without any traffic.

it’s his secret place. somewhere he goes to rant to no one and let all his worries free.

he’s still super stupid awkward though-- he still can’t flirt or make any smooth moves unless he’s occupied with something else. like:

he’ll pull you closer to him, glaring at the person trying to hit on you, “don’t touch them. they’re mine.” and things like that

HE’S SO ATTRACTIVE IN BIKER ATTIRE AAAAAA

[miss-choco-chips]

Bird Watchers

It was something like an open secret in Gotham, that even though all it’s heroes were open to help no matter the situation, each one of them had a special affinity to certain matters.

For example, children from all districts knew to yell for Nightwing if they found themselves lost and scared. Small business owners often painted little Oracle symbols on their doorsteps, to warn away possible thieves with the knowledge that Gotham’s cryptic hacker had their eye on them. Working girls would send a quick prayer to the Red Hood before seeing their seediest clients; and as such, knew who to call for if things took a turn for the worst.

And Red Robin… well. His was a very specific bunch.

---.---

Warnings: depression, suicide attempts, overdose comic-typical violence (discussed, not explicit). Hurt-comfort all the way, baby. There’s also one scene, with the redhead, that I copied from the comics.

(it’s almost 2 am, I wrote half of this in one go, don’t @ me for mistakes. I’ll edit tomorrow. Maybe.)

---.---

The first time he stopped a suicide, he had just turned thirteen. The suit still felt wrong, too loose in all the places where Jason’s bigger presence would have been a better fit. Too small, too brainy, not brash enough, not good enough.

He would never think himself worthy, but he was all Batman had. There were no other candidates, not ones he could have thrown the job at without risking Bruce’s identity, so he’d have to make do.

But even so, he had been gaining a little confidence over the past few months. His training with Shiva, and Dick’s and Bruce’s focus on making him as ready for the streets as humanly possible, had ensured he never encountered a situation where he couldn’t handle himself, or get back up in time to avoid any casualties.

Except for right now.

“Hey! Don’t do it, please!”

Yeah, maybe yelling at the man precariously balanced on the edge of a how many feet tall building wasn’t his wisest moment. He’d berate himself later. Now was freak out time.

Said man stumbled for a second before regaining his footing and turning to look at Tim. He couldn’t be more than forty, with a bit of an overgrown beard and tired eyes. He had something clutched in one hand, tanned and calloused from work, the other over his chest, probably due to the scare of having a bat suddenly appearing behind him.

“R-Robin…”, he gasped, shook out of whatever reverie he was going through for a second. “W-what… I mean, why are you…?”

‘Okay, Tim, breath. Can’t call B, he’ll notice, get startled and jump. Can I catch him if he does? My grappling hook is made to withstand more than my weight, but if I can’t handle the strain of swinging us both to safety…’

He couldn't risk it.

“Good evening, Mr…?”

Surprise and good manners made the man automatically answer, “Ed. Ed Harrinson.”

Encouraged, Tim took a tiny teeny step forward. Ed’s entire body shock and he leaned backwards. Tim froze, fear keeping his breathing and heartbeat hostages for the time being, stopping the first and kick starting the second.

“Mr Harrinson, I’d like to ask you to step away from the edge? I’ll call an ambulance for you, and…”

“No!”, the man screamed, suddenly over his surprise, a look of determination trying to masquerade his obvious exhaustion. “If you call an’one, I’ll jump.”

Tim wisely kept the ‘you were gonna do it anyway’ to himself. He nodded slowly, hands emerging from the confines of his cape to show Mr Harrinson the lack of a communication device.

“I won’t, then, but may I come closer? Please?”

It was on the last word, high pitched and wavering, that the man cracked. With wary demeanor, he waved him over, pointing to a patch of rooftop a little far but close enough for Tim to feel comfortable- or as comfortable as he’d get, in these circumstances.

As he approached, he could feel the man analyzing him. The little gasp when he stood by his side didn’t go unnoticed.

“You are… smaller than I imag’ned. Too small for a bat. My boy’s taller than you” he mused, likely to himself, but Tim grasped onto that bit of information and clutched at it with both hands, desperately.

“I’m short compared to my peers, so maybe I’m the same age as your son. How old is he?”, he asked, in his most conversational tone. Fear still had a grasp over both his lungs and heart.

Something in the man’s face shifted.

“He… he just turned fifteen.” Older than Tim, then. Ed continued, “He’s… ”, in a second, the sadness was replaced by pride, “he’s grown up p’tty well, if I say so m’self. A fine young man, that kid. He’ll go places.”

For a beat, Tim tried to imagine his own dad here. As much as he’d hate to see Jack in Mr Harrinson’s place, he couldn't help but wonder if he’d be talking about him the same way Ed spoke about his son.

He… didn’t think so. If on the verge of death, thoughts about his son would probably be the farthest from his dad’s mind.

“You sound like you love him very much. He’s a lucky guy” he said sincerely, a tendril of hopefulness still twisted around his stomach. His hands weren’t shaking any longer, finding solace in the fact that the man in front of him didn’t look like he was about to jump right that second.

Mr Harrinson’s face fell.

“Got served an’ unlucky hand, with an old man like me”, his eyes went back to the abyss, to the empty, poor litten streets below them. “Go ‘way, kid. Leave m’ be. Notta business what I do. Gotta do this f’r my kid.”

Fear came back, full force.

“I- Sorry, but I can’t help but think about your son”, he blurted out, the only bit of information he had about the man was his only tendril of hope. “Someone who loves his child as much as you seem to must be a good father. A father that… would be missed dearly, if lost so young.”

Mr Harrinson looked even more devastated. Tim was doing this all wrong, wasn’t he?

“There’s no other way t’ keep’im safe!'' he yelled, and for a minute Tim thought he had decided to jump then and there. Instead, he dropped to his knees, hands to his head, paper still clutched in one fist. “They’ll get to him if I don’t! Once I’m dead, they’ll just leave’im alone!”

Tim crouched next to him, tentative.

“Who is ‘they’, sir? Maybe I could help…”

Ed was already shaking his head.

“Nay, they said not to go to the bats. Kill my boy, they will, if I do. Seen them offing others for less, so I believe them.”

“Ah, but I’m too short to be a bat, am I not?” he smiled, wobbly at best but sincere. “Besides, who’s gonna tell them you spoke to me? I”, he gestured to his mask, “know how to keep a secret.”

He considered for a beat, before tired shoulders fell, defeated. He offered the slip of paper towards him, unseeing eyes on the street below.

Robin read the note carefully, noting the sloppy penmanship and cheap paper as well as the message itself.

“Mr Harrinson…”

“I know”, he whispered, “I know working for the Black Mask wasn’t my best idea. But m’boy needed to eat, and the landlord was gettin’ impatient. And now, for whatever reason, boss wants me dead. And if I make ‘im dirty his own hands, he’ll dirty ‘em twice and send me with my son for company to the other side. Felix is too young, and he’s good. Can’t let ‘im pay f’ his old man m’stakes, ya hear me?”

Tim thought his words over carefully.

“Mr Harrinson… I don’t think this comes from Black Mask himself”, for one, Blackie wasn’t one to avoid blood on his gloves, nor to send such a shitty note. The man lived for the drama, like most A-listers did, and he’d never forgo the aesthetic of an expensive peachment and beautifully worded threat. Also, if he wanted this man gone, he would have put a bullet in his head the second he clocked in; and if it were revenge he was after, he wouldn't have gotten a warning note but his son’s head sent to him instead.

He folded the paper and put it into one of his multiple pockets, free hand going to the man’s shoulder.

“I know Black Mask’s M.O, mister, and this is not it”, no need to spook him further by describing what it was, though. “Probably just a colleague who wanted your position, or has a grudge for whatever reason. And that, I can help you with. If you work with me on this one, we can both make sure Felix has his Dad making breakfast for him tomorrow morning, and all the days after that. After all”, he smiled, no longer uncertain now that he had firm ground to work with, “your son is going places, and he’ll have to be well fed to reach them, right?”

Mr Harrinson’s smile must have had magical properties, Tim thought. There was no other explanation for the way it returned his breath back to his body.

---.----

The next time he saw a jumper, a few months later, he was slightly more ready for it. Bruce had congratulated him on his work with Mr Harrinson, and the subsequent raid they could make on one of Black Mask’s warehouses thanks to the man’s information, but Tim hadn’t been satisfied until he had read every single mission report on the batcomputer about attempted suicides. And succeed ones, too. Need to know what went well and what didn’t, after all.

So when he saw the fifty-something woman crying on top of a tower in City Hall District, he didn’t almost-crash in his attempt to get there in time. He landed softly, making just enough noise to let her know she wasn’t alone, but careful to not startle her.

“It’s a little cold up here, Lady. If you’d like, I can walk you home?”, he tries for cheeky, despite the cold fear nesting in his stomach like a grumpy, spiteful bird.

The woman, sitting by the edge, turned her head to look at him. The movement called attention to her long, strawberry blonde hair, neatly braided, and her pretty diamond earrings. The face under her perfect make up was gaunt and pale, tear tracks cleaning paths of skin to his trained eye.

Despite him interrupting what probably were very private thoughts, she smiled at his approach, kind and polite. It didn’t reach her eyes, but the intent to put him at ease was generous enough.

“I may be a lady, but any adult worth their salt would insist on walking the young child home, instead of the opposite. Besides”, she patted the rooftop under her,” I live here, so it’s not a long walk at all.”

Tim stepped closer, carefully.

“May I sit?”

“I could use the company for a bit”, she accepted, head turning back to the city below.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, before Tim’s soft voice broke it again.

“Is there anything I can do to help convince you not to do it? Please?”

The lady smiled. “You are a very sweet boy.”

“That’s… not an answer. Can I at least know why?”

“Won’t it torment you, in the future, if we speak now?”, she asked a question of her own, turning to face him again. Despite her words, there was nothing but kindness in those deep green eyes. “If you don’t know me, I’m just another one who jumped. If we talk, I’m afraid I might stay with you long after I’m gone. You are too young for that kind of weight.”

Tim swallowed. 

“That’s easily solved, Miss;”, Dick’s rule of thumb; if unsure, always call a lady Miss before Mrs “don’t do it.”

She spared him a long, meaningful look, and he slumped over.

“Not my best, I know, but I’m kinda freaking out now?” She wasn’t like Mr Harrinson, no motive he could see, no strand to pull and unravel her pain. “Please, just… why?”

She patted one of the hands gripping his own knee. His other hand rushed over hers, sandwiching her cold, slim fingers between his gloved palms.

“There’s nothing left for me. I have a nice job, live in a pretty side of town, have friends, and still… it feels so empty. So… Meaningless. Why even bother?”

Tim chewed on her words silently. He was way out of his depth. A tangible, physical problem? He could solve those, no biggie.

Depression, though… that was a different giant to tackle. Was he even prepared enough to?

A strong gust of wind made the lady with braided hair shiver. Without thought, Tim unclasped his cape and draped it over her slim shoulders.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, head tilted like a curious woodland animal. Tim felt strongly protective of her, of this kind, sweet lady, who said she had it all, except the one thing that mattered to her.

“I’m used to it”, he shrugged. “This suit is very warm, but cold air often trickles down from the neckline and… well. Gigs of the job and all that.”

The lady tutted, frowning for the first time since Tim arrived.

“That won’t do, young man. You need a scarf. The nights will only get colder from now on.”

He shrugged again.

“I just… don’t have the time to buy one. And I had one, but… There’s these kids who often hang out by the park, and they were so cold, I just couldn't swing by and ignore them. So I gave them my scarf to share between them. I’m just kinda bummed that I don’t have more to make sure they all stay warm.”

The braided haired lady hummed for a second.

“Well… I knit”, she started, carefully. “I don’t have children or grandchildren to give my final products to, so they’ll go to waste after I’m gone. If you’d take them out of my hands, you’ll do me a favor.” 

Tim wanted to say no, unwilling to make this any easier for her, but the chance of getting her away from the edge was enough to quell his voice.

She went and came back within minutes, a big cardboard box balanced over her shaky arms. He rose to help her, meeting the woman halfway through the roof, a good distance away from the abyss.

“This red one would look good with your suit… oh, and the green one, to keep with the theme! Or maybe the yellow one… Shame pink would be such a bad fit for your colors, because that wool is the best I worked with…”

Tim’s hand carefully took said carf out and looked it over. There were about six others in the box.

“I could take this to those kids I mentioned before… It’d still not be enough for all, but more to share between them means less cold.”

She hummed again, looking at the unfinished projects on the bottom of the box.

“If… If you give me a few days…” she muttered. “I mean, I’m in no rush”, a hand vaguely gestured towards the rooftop’s edge. “I could spare a few days finishing those, and you could take them to these kids you spoke about… and maybe, I can help make a few children less cold with this silly hobby of mine.”

Elated beyond words, Tim nodded vigorously, waxing poetry about her work and about just how excited little Ellie would be with this soft, pretty pink scarf.

His patrol route could use a few detours, after all, if that meant keeping Braided Hair Lady away from her roof.

---.----

He was just returning from a late supply run when he bumped into The Cats.

It was in an alleyway, a block off from Mrs Eloise Denvarow (formerly known as Braided Hair Lady). The older woman had caved after three months knowing each other, of Tim passing by her apartment once every other night to pick up her baked goods or knitted masterpieces, to distribute between street kids and working girls, and told him her name. It was said in passing (“Stop with that ‘Lady’ thing, honey. It’s Eloise”), as if lacking importance, when in reality it meant the world to him. Sure, he’d already known, having run a background check on her the minute he came back to the cave after stopping her from jumping, but there was that implicit vow between them, that she wouldn't tell him her name and jump, wouldn’t make him carry its weight on his shoulders forever, so it was… it was a promise, on her end, a reassurance, and Tim wasn’t even embarrassed that he cried in her arms like a baby for ten minutes.

So here he was, a month after that, still riding that high, when the desperate call from below caught his attention.

There were two teens on the dirty ground, nested among cracked bottles and old newspapers. The girl was lying in the boy’s arms, with him screaming for help.

“Robin! Thank fuck!”, he almost sobs, arms visibly tightening around the girl. Tim wants to ask how he knew to call for him, and if the proximity to Mrs Denvarow’s place was luck or not.

But it wasn’t the time to ask.

The girl was pale, which only highlighted the bruises on her face. Someone with a big fist punched her. It doesn't seem likely, considering just how distraught the other kid is, but he checks his hands just in case; fortunately, too small for that kind of damage.

She’s also breathing erratically and, when he puts a gloved hand to her neck, he realizes just how crazy her pulse is. 

Fear Toxin? Except Scarecrow is still in Arkham as far as he knows, and even if he had gotten away recently, he needs time to develop his precious chemicals. Joker’s Venom and Mad’s Hatter drugs don’t have quite this results, and Ivy doesn’t usually attack street girls just for kicks; they are also too far from her usual turf for her to be a viable suspect.

So, that leaves very few choices.

“Overdose?”, he ventures a guess, hand already fumbling through the pockets on his belt.

The other boy sobs harder, nodding while looking down at the girl in his arms. Tim gently takes the girl from him to position her straighter, to help her down the vial he finally found in his belt. It was supposed to help flush out any chemical in a few minutes, tops; they usually used it when a new type of Crazy Criminal Drug made its way to the streets and they didn’t have the time to properly prepare an antidote. It was strong, and vicious in its path to devoid the body of any and all external agents, which was why it wasn’t a preferred method; who’s to say the civilian in need of a flush isn’t in some important medicine? The Big Flush, as Dick calls it, lacked any kind of finesse or discrimination.

But it was their best shot right now, so there goes nothing. 

There’s silence while they watch the girl’s progress. He doesn’t bother asking if he called for an ambulance; they are obviously minors, probably homeless, and even if the Wayne Foundation takes care of children’s hospital fees, they’d avoid it to keep themselves out of the foster system.

But then, the kid kept talking.

“I… I found her near Grant Park. I… I didn’t know what to do, so I dragged her here. She/” and then he breaks again, hands grasping one of hers, as if letting go meant he was giving up on her and he couldn't bear it.

“Grant Park is only five blocks away,” Tim thinks out loud, mind already a mile away “and Moench’s Row illicit night clinic is about the same distance from there as this place. Why did you bring her here?”

“She… Alley… Oh, her name’s Allison, by the way. And I’m Thomas. Tom.” Introductions, miraculously, seem to do the trick here and calm him down. “Nice to meetcha.”

Tim’s not deterred by his toothy grin, but he has to admit he’s kinda cute. Like, stray cat cute.

Huh. Alley, Tom, cat… Yeah, that checks.

“What happened with Allison?” he presses softly, one arm still keeping Alley up and against his chest, the other hand on her pulse point, taking note of the way the heartbeat seems to be stabilizing. The puking fest was gonna start soon.

“She… It was on purpose.” Tom confesses, eyes going clouded for a while. “She tries to not be home, yknow? I met her in kindergarten, and even then she’d try to hide behind the teacher’s desk in hopes they’d forget about her and close the building with her inside. Anyway, we pretty much live on the streets these days, and Alley… she’s very depressed. I convinced her to see someone a while ago, even stol/ I mean, earned the money for it myself”, he’s quick to correct, eyes glancing up to see if he was smooth enough to cover it; which he wasn’t, but Tim was in favor of letting that small one go, “and they gave her a prescription for antidepressants. She’s been kicking it down the road, but she’s gotten a lot worse and I wouldn't lay off her case about it, so she sneaked back home to get some money from her folks to pay for it.”

By the way the kid looks at her bruised face with unmeasurable guilt, Tim knows she didn’t go unnoticed.

“And… I don’t know. We were supposed to meet up by the Commerce Street Highway, but she was late, so I walked around for a bit and… I saw her there, on a bench. She was/ she was still conscious then, and she told me… she said ‘these aren’t what the doc gave me, but they took the pain away all the same’.” Again, Tom chokes on his own emotions. If he had any free hands, he’d try to put one on his shoulder for comfort. “I don’t even know what she took, or where did she get it from!”

Tim has heard whispers of loan sharks and drug dealres camping toghter by the Fashion Distric, just north of Grant Park, so he can make an informed guess as to how that happened. Also, he now knows what he’ll do the rest of the night, once these kids are safe.

When Tom has gotten a grasp of himself, he pushes again.

“So, why did you bring her here?”

He shrugs, a bit abashed.

“Well… I mean, everyone knows about how Mrs Denvarow is the one giving clothes and food away, and that you help her distribute it. Well, not everyone, but… you know, the street kids. We flagged her building with a yellow skull and everything.”

A yellow skull grafitti, Tim’s mind translates, is the street equivalent of a ‘don’t fuck with this place’ sing. A sort of protective sigil. He wonders how he missed it.

“And… This is kind of your thing, right? So I figured you’d be better prepared to deal with it than some overworked clinic that might even not have enough free equipment to help us. Good think I did, too” he gestures at his friend, whose face is now looking flushed; a sign both of growing health, and of the upcoming puke. Tim’s quick to turn her so her back is to his chest, head tilted down just in case.

As if rehearsed, Alley chose that exact second to empty the contents of her now flushed stomach. Tim would need a sample of that, to catch the responsible dealer.

Tom held her hair away from her face while Tim kept her steady, and she blinked bearily at them after it was done, still not completely lucid but a world away from the girl she was ten minutes ago.

“She’ll still need a hospital.'' Tim informs Tom sternly. The boy had taken his friend in his arms again, softly rubbing her back to help with the uncomfortable ache leftover after puking your guts out. “The Moench’s Row clinic should be able to help with any side effect, but she’s safe for now.”

He nods, thanks Tim again and again and politely refuses his help to take her to the clinic. They part ways, both parties probably thinking this would be the last time they saw each other.

Still, their situation sticks with Tim during the rest of his patrol, and he decides to stop by the clinic, just to check on them. His knuckles still ache from the absolute beating he delivered to the ones who gave Alley the money and sold her the drugs, so he’s in better spirits and hopes to spread it to the kids.

Alley is awake when he visits, and her shy, little smile is enough for the rage inside of Tim to die down. The bad guys dealt with, the civilians safe, everything in its proper place.

He sleeps a bit better that night.

---.----

He almost doesn’t see him. 

Actually, he probably wouldn't have, deeply lost into his own head, had the guy been anything other than a redhead. That exact shade of  orangy-brown auburn, that he would have to pick up from his workbench at Titan’s tower after Bart had decided to ‘keep him company’ during his all-nighters. 

It was ironic, how now he would give anything in the world to have those same strands of hair fucking up his experiments, if only for the impish, ‘please-don’t-kill-me-I’m-an-angel’ smile he would receive in exchange.

“Hey”, he greets, landing softly at the man’s right, sitting a few feet away from him, too tired to even stand up on common ground. “What’s happening?”

He shouldn’t be doing this. He really, really shouldn’t. His own mental health was less than stellar, and even thinking about it made him feel worse. He didn’t deserve to feel bad, not when civilians were in the hospital after his latest fuck up, Cass was missing, Cassie barely hanging in there, the family a mess with Damian’s lovely introduction, and… well. Every other person he knew…

Point being, there must be someone else, in a better inner place, that could speak to this guy. But since no one seemed to be patrolling this route, Tim could only hope to stall him long enough for a more capable vigilante to show up.

The guy looks startled, then angry. He has green eyes, he notices, under the glasses. Not sure why that sticks to him.

“What are you doing here? You’re not going to try to stop me, are you? You’re not going to swing down and catch me in mid air or something, are you?”

He seems defensive, but Tim notices a bit of hesitancy. He has worked with less.

(He wishes he had more energy to do more with what little he has)

“No. If I did, what’s to stop you from doing it again later, or tomorrow? I can’t be with you every second.  If you want to do this, you are going to, no matter how much I don’t want you to. And I don’t want you to, just so we are clear.”

The guy still looks suspicious, but he hasn’t taken that last step forward, so… a win?

“I just needed to sit down for a minute. ‘been thinking about all the ways I’ve screwed up lately, and…”

Auburn-hair deflates a little, turning away from Tim to examine the night sky. “Well, that makes two of us.”

The bat signal lights up the night. His newfound companion looks at it, then him. “Do you need to get that?”

“Nah. Batman will, and if he needs help he’ll call me.” Tim shrugs. He needs a coffee-power-up. He needs to sleep. He needs for his loved ones to not be dead.

He needs to see if there’s anything he can do for this guy.

“So, do you want to tell me why you’re doing this? So someone can go to your family and friends to let them know?”

After all, if it was him who did it (and… wasn’t that food for thought?), he’d like Bruce and Dick to know why. To not… to not blame themselves.

Redhead looks annoyed again. Uh. A short fuse, this one.

“Don’t try any psychology, or try to make me feel guilty about hurting anyone… this isn't about anyone but me.”

He shouldn’t say it, but… “That’s pretty naive,  but whatever. Tell me anyway.” He smirks a bit, then “Unless you’re in a hurry or something.”

He hears the guy (he really should ask his name) as he tells his story. A cold, clinical part of his mind recognizes the symptoms described almost unconsciously by the guy as depression. He would know, after all. The other part of him, the part that made him Robin, that made him human, discarded the label; there was much more to this guy than his illness, and he would treat him like it.

“So here I am,” he finishes, now sitting side by side with Tim, both their legs hanging above the bustling city. “Now’s when you tell me how stupid this is. That other people have much bigger problems, there’s hunger and war, and I’m weak because my problems are nothing next to stuff like that.”

Tim thinks of a father, desperately thinking his death would save his son’s life, when in fact it would have only made it worse. He thinks of a woman, so full of love and warmth, looking into the abyss and feeling empty inside. He thinks of a couple of kids, one hanging to life with nails and teeth, the other hanging to her just as fiercely.

He thinks about himself. About looking at a future version of himself, hating what he sees, and deciding to drown the bud before it can even flower. He thinks of sickly green water, of cloning equipment in a laboratory, of a phone falling to the ground after delivering him with more bad news.

He’s still in a bad place, still probably not the most capable person to be doing this, but a part of him is sure this is the right answer. The only answer.

“No. Your problems are worse than anyone else’s, because they are yours. I’ve... felt bad like you have, and some pretty bad things have happened to me.”

Red hair looks as tired as Tim feels, so it’s a surprise that he has enough energy to glance at him worriedly, hand stretching a bit in his direction in a half-formed attempt to comfort.

“You guys make it look so easy, swinging around, having fun… Things get bad for you, too?”

Tim looks down, and smiles. It’s a sad, bitter thing. He thinks about parents lost before ever connecting to them, about a girlfriend going away, a sister lost to the madness of their lives, about two best friends gone, one even dying in his arms. 

He gives no details. Doesn’t talk about it all, just shares a little bit of himself. It’s only fair, after hearing about this guy’s demons. Misery loves company, doesn’t it?

“So what do you do? How do you deal with it?” the guy asks when he’s done, looking at Tim by the corner of his not-very-dry eyes.

Tim forces himself to remember. “One of the things I’ve learned is that it gets bad for everyone sometimes, Superman, Batman… everyone. I remember that I’m not alone, that things do get better. Sometimes on their own, most times when you work at them. And when I have trouble remembering those things, I find people to talk to.”

Most of those were dead, but Tim is hit with the epiphany that not all of them are. He still has people. He still…

“And you’ve got people like that? That you can talk to?” asks the guy, tone both worried and hopeful. Tim stands up, does his best to look calm.

“Yeah. Your folks, and old friend, even a trained counselor you’ve never met before… someone who has a totally different perspective because they’re not as close to your problems as you are. Maybe they give you advice, and that’s great… or maybe they just listen. Sometimes, that’s all you need. Anyway, that’s how I deal with it when things suck. And it works. Want to come down from there and give it a try?”

The guy gets back to his feet, as Tim watches from behind. Having been in this situation before, the fear grabbing a hold of him isn’t new, but it's different. He thinks he's too worn down. It takes the edge off of any emotion. 

Except hope. Hope still hurts like a sharp knife when it’s snatched away. He prays it won’t be, right now.

Green eyes (Jason- that’s who they reminded him of) look down, deep in thought. Then he turns, smiles at Tim. There’s hope in him too.

“Yeah, why not?”

They get down together. He gives him a few numbers and they have breakfast together. The guy promises to call his English teacher, at least. Tim promises himself to call his brother.

At least, he still has Dick.

---.----

He’s been putting off doing his rounds since he came back, he knows. But…

It changed him, a bit. Going around the world, dealing with his grief while staying on his toes, ready to break down one second and having to field off attacks from all sides the next, with the Demon’s honeyed whispers echoing in his ear and mind. 

He’ll never tell anyone, just how tempting it had been. How much he had wanted to reach for that offered hand. To lay his head on someone’s shoulder and let the responsibility bleed from his.

Tim will never tell anyone, but he’ll always know. And it’ll always make him hate himself a little bit more.

So, he’s different now. And he’s scared- that the people he gave hope to, that he talked with, that he could never stop thinking about, even halfway across the world- that they won’t like this new, worn down him.

That Mr Harrinson the Good Father, Braided Hair Lady and her sweaters, the inseparable Stray Cats, the girl with the bright yellow cardigan, the kid with the scarred wrists, the woman with beautiful star-like freckles that she’ll hopefully pass on to her baby, the gentle giant man with calloused hands, the petite but fierce young teen with defiant eyes and dead name, the soft spoken girl with the loudest laugh, auburn-haired boy and his hopeful and sympathetic green eyes… and so, so many more. They all knew him, maybe not at his best, but certainly better than now. The boy that kept them from jumping had been a bright, magical Robin. The teen that came back to their city was dark, weary Red Robin. It felt kinda like he had cheated them, returning this broken version of himself to their doorsteps.

But he had to go check on all of them. Even if Cass (and it was such a relief, that even after he lost everything else, the return of his sister could at least be a speck of light in the mist of misery surrounding him) had promised to do so, there were so many of them… and she couldn't possibly remember everyone, all the time. And if anyone had fallen through the gaps… if anyone had stood on a rooftop, waiting for their Robin to save them, only to think ‘nobody cares’ as he didn’t show up…

Tim gets sick only thinking about it. If it did happen, then he needs to know. He has to carry their names with him, that’s the least he can do for failing them.

So he’ll go check on them… anytime now. Soon. The moment he gathers enough energy to climb back to his feet and get his grapple hook out.

...The city looks full of life, beneath him. Like it feels the return of its Knight. The end of the internal quarrel among it’s vigilantes, that almost tore it all apart. The relief in Nightwing, the hesitant peace in Red Hood, the mellowing of Robin.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the worst ways)

Maybe it also feels Red Robin’s emptiness. Maybe that’s why it's so lively down there, like the ground is calling to him, just as it did when Ra’s broke the window with his body.

He thinks... he won’t have to check on anyone, if he jumps. And that way, there will be no name to carry with him to his grave.

“Robin!”

“Stop!”

“Don’t do it, please!”

He startles. Hadn’t even noticed when he got to his feet, nor that one of them was hanging over the abyss. The fact that he wasn’t alone on that rooftop any longer hadn’t even breached his usually perfect spatial awareness.

They didn’t call for him, but the voices sounded distraught, they were close, and he was a former Robin, so he turned around, tired, but with obedience and service too ingrained in him to consider denying help to whoever it was.

It turned out, he wouldn't need to go make his rounds any longer. His rounds had come to him.

There were… too many people on this roof. It was way too crowded.

“Robin!”

It was one voice now, not a mixture of them, so he could identify the one yelling his former alias. Allison broke from the mob of people (and there were more still, filling in from the open rooftop door, like a never-ending stream…) to run to him, looking like she might have just jumped into his arms, if not for Tom clutching her hoodie to stop her a few feet from him. Good move, considering he was still balancing precariously on the edge.

“Alleycat?” he whispered, a little blown. She looked so different (magenta looked amazing on the tips of her hair, and she totally pulled off that lip piercing), but he’d recognize those eyes anywhere. He’d been so relieved, when she first opened them after that dangerous overdose.

“We were so fucking worried, dude”, came from Tomcat just behind her, still gripping her hoodie (still keeping her safe; some things never change).

“I…”

“Where were you?” Maddie, not longer yellow but still wearing a cute cardigan, stepped up too.

“I’m… I’m not Robin”, he blurts out. They… knew it was him?  It… like, obviously there was a new Robin, Damian was (still, but probably not for much longer) smaller than him, but to immediately know that he was…

“Yeah, no shit. I’d know that long hair and noodle limbs of yours anywhere, kid. Known you too long to be fooled. And the new kid’s really trigger happy with that lon’nife of his... You’re still the Robin I prefer, and fuck if I understand the name passing you heroes do” Mr Harrinson spoke from the back of the crowd, one hand clutching his kid’s shoulder, the other arm around…

“Braided Hair Lady?”

Eloise smiles at him, soft and warm as ever, a little shy when his eyes go to the arm hugging her close and back to her. He recognizes some of her handmade scarfs around the necks of plenty of people on the roof. 

“I… wasn’t aware you all knew each other.”

A petite young teen steps forward, walking until they were shoulder-to-shoulder with the Strays.

“Most of us met through the app, and then introduced the others. There’s more, of course, but not everyone could meet here. Samantha’s baby was born just two months ago, so she chose to stay home, but we promised her pictures, so you’ll have to say cheese soon birdboy. Also, I found my name. I’m Cal.”

Allison’s smile broadened and she sneaked an arm around Cal’s waist.

“They are the new Straycat. Calico cat’s are the cutest shit ever, aren’t they?”

Well… Having someone as badass as Cal watching Tom and Alley’s back would sure make Tim feel a lot better about both kids being out in the streets. 

Were they still on the streets? He’d need to find out and fix that, soon.

Then it hit him. “What app?”

Auburn-hair smiled from his place, at the front of the crowd just behind the Cats.

“Felix over there,” he pointed over his shoulder at Mr Harrinson’s son, who smiled shyly at Tim, eyes shining in gratitude and admiration like they always did when Tim did his rounds and checked on his dad, “defended you in a GothamHeroes forum once. Some bratty douchebag was complaining about you landing over his car or something and this kid went for his fucking troath.”

“I was in that chat too,” spoke Tom, smiling a little too savagely for a kid that sweet. “He tore the idiot to shreds, speaking about how you saved his dad’s life and took it upon yourself to make sure he was still okay even weeks after you met. I mentioned how you saved Alley and Mrs Denvarow, we exchanged numbers… then we met Cal during one of our rounds handing out Mrs D’s scarfs and food. They were weary of everyone else, but trusted us because they heard you talk about the clothes and baked goods... And Cal’s friend Gina worked with Samantha on the streets and told them about her story...”

“Soon, it seemed like people personally saved by you were just… popping out of the snow like daisies” Blair laughed, and it was still the loudest, brightest noise. The night seemed a little clearer, the air a little fresher for it. “Felix made his own private chat and added us, and we added everyone else we knew… The word went around about it, and more and more people joined in…”

“It’s really a wonder how you had any time to fight crime, seeing how often you were apparently comforting jumpers on the roofs” Ailbert, still as gigantic and gentle as always, raised a hand from the middle of the group. He had a little girl on his shoulders, probably the baby niece he had taken in after his sister’s death. 

“Then the new kid appeared and Gotham went to hell on a basket, and no one saw you around any longer”, Elijah, wrists no more scarred than the last time he saw him, his arm tangled with Maddie’s, went on. “We were… well, we were a bit confused.”

“Speak for yourself, Cal jumped Red Hood one night, held him at knife point and demanded to know what the fuck happened to our Robin. We were like, zero chill.”

“Sorry, they did what?” Tim was definitely in the twilight zone now. 

“No thoughts, head empty, only murder”

...Tim needed to give Jason a quick call. Also sign Cal up for anger management. And probably, judging by the way both Alley and Tom were looking at them, get one of the adults to give them the talk.

Mrs Eloise smiled at him, and like always it served to calm his nerves. That woman was a different kind of magic than Alfred, but magic indeed. “Anyway, dear, what matters is that we were worried about you. And then this incredible young man, Aaron,” she waved at him, and he winked one of his green eyes in response, “suggested we kept in closer contact with one another, so anyone who spotted you could inform the others.”

Aaron shrugged, his auburn mane of hair bobbing with the movement. “It just seemed like it’d be easier to have an alarm set up, since messaging everyone would take so long… and then someone suggested making a map of Gotham so we could have clearer routes for the kids handing out Mrs Denvarow’s stuff… and someone wanted a shared blackboard to write theories on where the fuck you were with others… and a few demanded a space to share photos, possible sightings or old selfies with you… It kinda spiralled and I thought it’d be less of a chaotic mess if I made an app that could do all of that, instead of all of us using multiple apps for the different fixtures everyone asked for… Since this is Gotham, we also added some Rouge Alarm for whenever a criminal was set loose. It helped keep us safe, and if we knew when crime was happening, we could pay attention to which heroes answered the call…”

“And then, you fought that firefly guy the other day”, Felix said, still by his dad’s side, still looking as awed as ever when looking at tim. “I was in the crowd, and I recognized you within a minute.”

“I don’t really understand technology that well, and the group chat was such a mess that day” Ailbert lamented, but he was still smiling. They all were.

That hit Tim then, hard. 

They all looked so happy to see him. To have him back. They had been waiting for him to be back, banded together to make sure they’d all know when he did.

“You looked so sad the last time we saw you” Blair added softly, sadly. “And… when you saved Aaron, you told him about such sad things…”

Elijah winced “And I heard the Midnighter fell from Wayne Tower a few weeks ago, but then he was never seen around again, and your suit looks kinda similar, so that was probably really you… and, that fall…”

“We were very worried” repeated Eloise, but her eyes didn’t lose their warmth. “But you’re back now, and we can keep track of you and each other now, so it’s all good. It’s wonderful to have you back, love.”

This was an out of body experience.

Something must have shown on his face, because Cal snorted.

“We adore you, you dumbass. You are our hero.”

Alley smiled. “You are our Robin.”

Tim fell into her arms, and away from the roof’s edge. The rest of the crowd was upon them in seconds, all eager to pat his back or joke about the cowl hiding his hair from their hands.

He met eyes with Aaron, over Alley’s shoulder. He looked like the hope Tim had helped plant in his heart all those months ago had flowered, and the petals filled his heart.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the best ways)

“You should download the app too, so you always have someone to talk to. Look it up. It’s called BirdWatchers, because we’ll always look up and out for you. Because when we wanted to jump, you lended us your wings to fly instead.”

It was like this fucker wanted Tim to cry.

“Welcome home, Red Robin.”