#want to try and ease back onto this blog but also kind of want a fresh start

[jasntodds]

Penance [4]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,682

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

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

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

Right?

A/N: I might have gotten this idea from 911 but that's fine lol I hope you guys like it!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of.” Tim defends.

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

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

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

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

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

“Got it.” Tim nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right…” Tim lets out a breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the bomb goes off less than a second later.

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

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

And then it all falls eerily silent.

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

He thinks it's worse.

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

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

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

No.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you look up at him.

Jason lets out a breath.

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

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

Jason always comes.

And then Tim looks up, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine—“

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

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

“Okay.” You agree with a gentle nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aww, you’re learning." You chime.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hope not.

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

Jason freezes.

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

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

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

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

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

“So do you.” Jason nods once.

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

He thinks it’s you.

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

You think it's him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then Tim clears his throat.

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

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

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

“Babe.” Jason grins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No change.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason thinks that sounds like torture.

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

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

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

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

Panic. Relief. Panic. Terror. Anger.

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

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

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

“You alright?” He asks carefully.

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

Jason nods back. “What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

You swore you’d never lie to him.

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

But he cements his feet to the ground below him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Jason asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were really hoping he'd ask.

“Can you, uh..."

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

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

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

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

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[bratphilia]

william afton nsfw alphabet i beg 🙏🙏 btw i love your blog you're doing god's work <33333

note:��so um. i literally told michy, and i quote, "i cannot outdo the doer i fear" bc her william nsfw alphabet was so mf good like i was really worried i would not be able to come up with something original. so if you see any similarities to this!! it's her's!!

taglist: @dilfity

a = aftercare

not really affectionate. depends on who you are to him tbh. if you're just a fling/fuck buddy, you're pretty disposable to him (just gonna be blunt) therefore he's usually more concerned about himself. however if you're his wife you are allowed exactly one peck on the lips. he usually hits you with a cheesy one liner that's supposed to be comforting regardless.

b = body part

ass man ass man ass man. his favorite place to pull out on. he loves to spank you watch it jiggle as well as you jolt. loves to grab on it, snap the band of your panties on, bend you over his lap, etc.

c = cum

must. finish. inside. will buy you plan b, or just pull out on your stomach, titties, or, his favorite, your ass, but only if he has to (ie you're quite a taboo couple that may never see each other again). loves to paint your face after you suck his dick.

d = dirty secret

wants to hold a knife to your throat and make you call him william. he gets so tired of hearing you cry "steve!" that he just mostly makes you call him "daddy" or "sir." either that or he wants to try a cnc scenario where he's hunting you down as william.

e = experience

a lot of experience. if you have no experience, he just can't help but want to ease you into every little kink of his!! and if you're experienced? he likes that too because he wouldn't have to teach you to do everything.

f = favorite position

doggy style because he loves to see your ass bounce, especially when you look back at him and thrust backwards. it will have him thrusting into you even harder. also loves mating press and grasping onto your thighs so you have little free will. he loves any situation where you're completely at his disposal.

g = goofy

not goofy at all. this is serious business.

h = hair

very shaven!! he has a happy trail but shaves his pubes.

i = intimacy

even if it's rough, it feels intimate (hence why it can never be funny to have sex with him). loves to press his forehead against yours and force you to look into his eyes as he pumps into you.

j = jack off

takes pictures with and without your consent for masturbation material. he'll even go onto your social media and stroke himself to pictures of you with friends or family (zoomed in on you ofc) ITS FUCKING WEIRD. he jacks off literally at any opportunity he can find.

k = kink

loves it when you call him daddy. no questions asked. he loves the power dynamic it creates. has a huge degrading kink. expect to be called "slut" and "whore" AND he loves to be degraded by getting called a "pervert" or a "dirty old man." has a huge age kink, once again, loves the seniority.

l = location

anywhere and everywhere. he doesn't have a bucket list or anything but he just has to have you wherever he pleases! even if you're not totally onboard with it, he'll find other ways to convince you.

m = motivation

he just has high libido. point blank.

n = no

would immediately stop if you asked him to call you "mommy" or got way too cocky while he lets you have a little fun dominating him for once.

o = oral

he loves forcing his cock down your throat and fucking your face, don't get me wrong! but he loves smothering his face in and making out with your cunt. it's to the point where it's not about you and more about him satiating his personal hunger.

p = pace

depends on what he needs and william's mood varies minute by minute. if he's angry, expect it to be taken out on you with many spanks landed on your ass, hand in your hair, and all kinds of degrading insults thrown at you. if he's feeling more in the mood, he'll go slow and torture you, filling you up inch by inch, edging you, and making you beg him for your orgasm.

q = quickie

not a fan. must fuck you fully or not at all.

r = risk

does not want kids. he's very upfront about that. so even if he comes inside you, he's very very sure that you take a contraceptive.

s = stamina

has insane stamina for his age. will fuck you like a rabbit for hours.

t = toys

LOVESSS to torture you with all kinds of vibrators and dildos. wants to try tying all your limbs and holding a vibrator to your cunt to see how much you can take.

u = unfair

read above. he's also very much into bondage. loves to restrain your body and eat you out nice and slow, making sure his beard scratches in all the right places.

v = volume

depends on your disposition. more often than not he takes it as a compliment if you scream. but if you need to be quiet (cough cough stepdad!william) he'll stuff your panties in your mouth, choke you so you get the message, or just clap a hand over your mouth and threaten to "make you shut the fuck up" if you don't.

w = wild card

wants to try a threesome with a younger man to show him how a real man fucks. only rule is that he absolutely has to pull out, or else he's going "missing"

x = x-ray

you know what they say about big hands. mans is HUNG. he definitely gets more swollen as he gets hard too.

y = yearning

like i said, his libido is extremely high at all times. even in the most wrong situations. he even gets hard watching you genuinely upset/crying over something and asks if he can compensate to make you "feel better."

z = zZz

doesn't really care about waiting until you fall asleep. personally believes sleep is for the weak and there's so much he hasn't done yet.

[seedsofagony]

Hayride (KnY ♡ Tengen)

Cherrytober Day 26: Interrupted // Thigh Riding

Series: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Characters: Uzui Tengen

Word Count: 567

Summary: modern au, x reader (f), date night, mentions of horror elements, lap sitting, public indecency I guess, thigh riding

Notes: Hayride 👏 thigh ride 👏 ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Disclaimer: Underage, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked. For everyone 18+, FUB free or filter my unique tag for this event: #sweets🍒24

You grit your teeth, clutching the haybale, as the wagon manages to hit yet another pothole. It's supposed to be a haunted hayride, but it's more like a haunting hayride—you're going to have a hard time sitting for the rest of the night.

Not that you regret going. The whole thing is pretty hokey—bad costumes and unconvincing makeup—but you don't mind. For every jump scare, you get to clutch Tengen's arm. Or at least, you had been until you were forced to keep your body from rattling apart.

"Kind of rough, isn't it?" Tengen grimaces.

Completely ignoring the actor waving the chainsaw and the terrified-slash-delighted screams of the other riders, you return his pained smile. "Very."

"Want to sit on my lap?"

You clutch imaginary pearls in mock scandal. "You mean, in front of all these people?"

Tengen glances around the wagon—couples clinging to each other, a few others who are equally unimpressed and just making out. He smiles wryly, "I don't think anyone will notice."

"Or care," you agree.

Easing off the bale, you brush the hay off your behind before depositing yourself on Tengen's lap. At least, that was the plan until the wagon hit yet another bump, sending you flying into his arms with a surprised yelp.

"Upsy-daisy," Tengen grins as he pulls you onto his thigh. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you huff. "Who's driving this thing anyway?"

Tengen chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. Still feeling a little ruffled, you sink back against his chest and try to enjoy the rest of the ride. A horde of stiff-legged zombies shambles after the wagon, waving plastic disembodied limbs. One of them is gnawing on a pink brain that looks more like a macabre dog toy—bruised ego (and butt) forgotten, you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

You also can't help but notice that you have the best seat in the house. The rocking of the wagon that was so irritating moments before has an unexpected benefit—your hips sway with the movement, grinding your clit against Tengen's firm, well-muscled thigh.

A flush rises in your cheeks and your eyes dart around your surroundings. Tiki lights blaze on either side of the dirt path, casting flickering shadows in the darkness of the night. The man on the tractor pulling the wagon couldn't care less about what's going on behind him, and the other riders are completely engrossed in the scenes—zombies giving way to pumpkin-headed scarecrow monsters—or each other. No one is paying attention to you.

Playing it cool, you shift ever so slightly. Warmth blooms between your legs, the vibration of the wagon wheels over the gravel humming through Tengen's leg and against your clit. You shift again as if to reposition yourself, rubbing your quickly swelling bud against him. His hands tighten on your waist slightly, steadying you. It crosses your mind then that maybe he wouldn't appreciate you trying to get off in public, but his lips brush your ear.

"Having fun?" he purrs. He pushes your hips forward and pulls you back ever so slightly, dragging you over his thigh.

You laugh nervously at having been found out and echo your earlier question—this time, a little more earnest, "What, in front of all these people?"

Tengen pushes and pulls you again, camouflaged by the dancing shadows and the diversion of B-movie monsters. "I don't think anyone will notice."

[fir-fireweed]

saw this ask from another blog, and it got me thinking, which of the ROs get jealous the easiest and which get jealous the least? and how do they act if they’re jealous? ( in relationship stage btw! )

i love ur work, plz dont turn into a glitter

Ok, first off, I’m glad you specified RO stage because I think I already buggered up a previous ask, lol. Ever seen “Miss Congeniality”? That was my Rain Man moment. 😅

BUT, back to your question… in order of most jealous to least, I think Ferret, Heron, Lion and Robin.

Ferret is actively seeking something of her own so she’d latch onto you and be fiercely protective. She’d wrap you in her arms, (claws out, so mind the fingers) and hiss “mine!”

Heron would feel a claim to you because he’s known you the longest. He’d try to jokingly play it off, but he’d be the one grumbling in the corner while giving whomever has your attention the stink eye.

Lion feels protective of you but also wants to support you. He weighs everything carefully before deciding on a course of action. He would assure himself you are just being friendly, because that is the type of person you are, and he loves and admires that about you, and he trusts you completely and utterly and where is that errant hand going? It is fine, it is completely fine, he trusts you, he is just going to move to this spot, you know, because the light is better, where he can read and is not watching you in the least.

Robin genuinely wants everyone to be happy, you most of all. They greatly admire your forthrightness and the ease with which you speak to others. They would join you in those conversations, silently and discreetly reaching for your hand and holding tight, paying attention to the conversation but also tugging you away as soon as politely possible.

Btw, as a mom whose kids went through the glitter phase over a decade ago and is still finding remnants of it, I can assure you that stuff sticks. So if I do become glitter (and I won’t!) I promise to be that kind of glitter, the kind that sticks. 😁

Thank you for reading Viatica and for the ask!

[mysoftboybensolo]

Dirtyhands and his Songbird

Ever since I saw @macncheeseass-blog​ post about wanting a soft Kaz x Reader enjoying domestic bliss, I couldn’t get it out of my head. Plus, I have been listening to Halle’s gorgeous voice in The Little Mermaid soundtrack, and a story formed from it. This is also my first Kaz x Reader fic, so please be kind.

Kaz Brekker, known in Ketterdam as Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel, a man whose heart was as cold as his eyes, was an unmovable and unfeeling man, so said everyone in Ketterdam. Was there nothing or anyone who was able to reach his cold heart? Everyone would have answered, no, there was nothing and no one. But they were wrong.

She was a secret to all in Ketterdam, not even the crows knew about her, and Kaz wanted to keep it that way, safer for her. He hadn’t been looking for her, in fact, if things didn’t go as wrong as they had, he would have never met her, but sometimes, he was glad that it did. It was a few years ago when Kaz was following a lead regarding a merchant, leading him outside of the city, where the peaceful glens lay and quiet was undisturbed. Kaz usually calculated things perfectly but he hadn’t expected an ambush, and he barely made it out alive, with the thugs being dead or near dead. He had to find shelter, somewhere to heal, and he stumbled with his cane helping him stay up, and before he black out, he saw a small cottage, reaching for the door.

The injuries would have had him at death’s door if left unattended, but there was someone who had been there to help. Between unconsciousness and awake, Kaz swore he heard singing, a voice unlike any he had ever heard, so lovely and pure, that it pulled him through the fog of pain and back into the clearness of consciousness. Slowly coming to, he found that he was laying on a couch, a bandage wrapped around his chest, and a face of someone who had knelt beside him, tending to the wound on his forehead. She was lit by the sunlight behind her, and her voice softly harmonizing, continuing her work to help him.

She had been careful with him, and he did not find a reason to recoil from her touch. Instead, he had felt a sense of calm and peace, one he hadn’t had in a long time. When he had fully come to, he had asked her where he was, and she simply replied they were in her home. Her speaking voice was just as lovely as her singing, calm and beautiful. She told him that he had knocked at her door, and she helped him in once she saw how he was badly injured, that his injuries would require him to rest for a few days. Kaz knew he couldn’t stay here, but when he tried to get up, a sharp pain radiated through him, knocking him back down onto the couch, breathing heavily.

“Please,” she said, “You must rest, you have broken ribs and if you move around too much, it can puncture your lung and you will die. If a healer lived around here, I’d have them here in a heartbeat, but as there isn’t one, you need to rest like everyone else.”

“I have to go,” he grunted out, the pain slowly easing, “I have people who will wonder where I am.”

The young woman thought for a moment, then went to her desk and pulled out paper and a pen. “Here, you can write a letter to them, explaining that there is nothing to worry about. The postman comes around in the morning and goes into the city by the afternoon.”

Kaz looked at her suspiciously. “How did you know I am from the city?”

“Your clothes,” she says quite obviously, “It is too nice for country folk, and too dark. I promise, your letter will reach your friends.”

Kaz agreed, writing the letter and careful to not let the woman see the contents, before sealing it and giving it to her. The letter was brief and obscure, simply stating that he took shelter and will be away for a while, that he’ll keep them posted if anything happens. They must have gotten it because no one came around trying to look for him, and he was able to rest in as much peace as possible, given the pain as well as the anxiety of wanting to get back to make sure things haven’t gone straight to hell at the club.

But as much as he was anxious to get back, he also found himself enjoying the company of the young songbird, whose touch was gentle and always avoiding his skin, much to Kaz’s silent delight. What he didn’t know was that while she was tending to him, he spoke unknowingly, calling for Jordie, breathlessly wondering why his skin was so cold and clammy. It didn’t take much for her to understand that he had an aversion of skin from this, and spoke nothing of it, not wishing for him to feel embarrassed at this fact having been unknowingly given. Instead, she treated Kaz like a frighten animal, allowing him to come to her and share whatever he wanted, which at first was not much. He said his name was Kaz, just Kaz, and for the time he was with her, that was all he was. He wasn’t a criminal, he wasn’t a boss, he wasn’t someone who could pretend to not care as much as he did, he was simply Kaz.

A hard lesson Kaz had learned as a boy was that everyone had another side to them, that things are not always what they seem, so with her he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, to see when the not so sweet side of her would come out, but as much as he waited and observed, he saw no fakeness with her, just truth. He couldn’t understand why he felt at ease with her, why he could let his guard down enough that he could smile with her, that he’s trust her to take care of him, to laugh at her jokes and share whatever small pieces of his life with her.

A few days had turned into a week and a half, and still Kaz was recovering in her home. He had started to become accustomed to her ways; getting up early to tend to her animals, then making breakfast, singing as she did her chores, and at every half hour she’d poke her head in to see if he needed anything, if the pain was bearable, before going back to finish her chores. No matter where she was, he could hear her voice, singing for her own pleasure, not caring who heard. He once asked her why she never considered singing in a club or theatre, no doubt becoming a hit with the masses, but she replied that she had stage fright and could never sing in front of people she didn’t know.

“You don’t know me,” he countered.

“You are different. I don’t know why, but you are.”

A broken rib would have taken about three to six weeks to heal, but it was luck that a healer, who was passing by to visit family and knew the young woman, was kind enough to help their friend and do this favor. While Kaz was grateful to be able to move and go back to work, he also found that he was sorry to go and leave behind this kind woman. “My door is open to you whenever you wish to visit, and I do hope that you will.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I will see,” he answered, not wishing to give her too much hope, but also not wanting to crush her hopes. It was a difficult situation that he was now in; on one hand, he should never return, never risk the chance of her getting hurt, or himself for that matter. But on the other hand, no one had to know about her, ensuring her safety, it would be a good excuse to escape the city life, and-damn him for thinking this- he’d miss her too much if he stayed away too long.

He lasted only two weeks before the urge to see her again became too much. In his dreams he could hear her song, calling to him like a siren, and despite his efforts to fight it, even having a few close calls, he finally broke down and went to see her. He told the crows that he was following another lead, that he could be gone for the weekend, and he made his journey back to her cottage. It was exactly as it had been before, peacefully quiet, the flowers by her fence in bloom, and the sound of her singing echoing from wherever she was. His heart clenched when he saw her smile, clearly happy to see him again, and he hated to admit it, but he was glad.

She had the guest room ready for him, made him lunch and tea that had spread through him with a warmth like a hug. “How long may I have you?”

“A weekend, if that is alright.”

“More than alright,” she replied with a wide smile.

For the first time in a long time, Kaz had been able to sleep peacefully, dreams of Jordie hadn’t plagued him as much as they did in the city, the space was much more open so there was no chance of accidentally bumping into someone and the water washing over him. His songbird even had made him an ointment to help his ache in his leg, which had helped him, especially on the days where he was on his feet for so long. She insisted that he didn’t need to help around her home, but he wouldn’t hear of it, mostly because he hated to see her work so hard while he sat and waited for her and helping her had brought out the memories of him as a boy on his family’s farm, coming back to him like a second nature.

The evenings had been the best for him, for she would talk, share how she was an only child and that from illness her parents had left her alone in the world, how she didn’t mind the solitude sometimes, but others, well, let’s say she was glad Kaz turned up at her doorstep. Under the clear and starry sky, Kaz found he was opening up to her, even if it was slowly, but nevertheless, he shared more with her willingly than he had with any other person. She listened and accepted, and as much as Kaz was glad that she wasn’t turning him out, he feared the day when he’d tell her the worst things he has done, that perhaps, someone was good and pure as her would not want to be with someone who had blood on his hands. That perhaps she wouldn’t want a broken man who could barely stand to have his bare hands even brush against another’s hand.

The weekend went by all too quick for Kaz, and it had broken his heart to see the sorrow on his songbird’s face, wondering when she would see him again. Quit her, the voice of Dirtyhands spoke in his mind, quit her like a drug, quit now before it becomes dangerous, before you become a danger to her. “I will see when I can come back, but I cannot make any guarantees.” It was a feeble promise, it could be easily broken or easily kept, the ball was in Kaz’s court, all she had to do was wait.

It was the same every time; Kaz would tell himself to forget her, stay away, but then he’d remember and dream of her face, her touch, but most especially, her voice, and then he’d find himself right back at her place. Weekends turned to weeks, and then, to avoid the growing suspicion of his crows, he would only stop by in the evenings when he would not be working. And each time, his songbird was overjoyed that he had returned to her, somehow always afraid that something terrible would happen. She understood from day one that Kaz was no innocent, that his business often included making shady deals and doing dirty deeds, but he never exploited innocent people, never harmed those who didn’t have it coming to them. He called himself a monster, but she saw him as a necessary monster, and maybe Ketterdam called him Dirtyhands, maybe they saw him as cold and unmovable, but she knew the truth. He was Kaz Rietveld, the boy from a farm, the boy who had nightmares, the boy who craved love and intimacy even if his body shouted no. Dirtyhands belonged to Ketterdam, Kaz Brekker belonged to the Crow Club, but Kaz, just Kaz, belonged to only her.

It was hard to believe that a year had passed since he had met his savior, his songbird, the feeling of disbelief always hitting him in the morning when he woke before her, seeing her peaceful and beautiful face near his. She had been wonderfully patient and kind, helping him to overcome his aversion to touch, and though they have not moved forward as much as Kaz would have liked to, he was proud of himself for being able to sleep in the same bed with her and not have to worry about their skins touching on the middle of the night, that he can reach out to her and brush her cheek with his thumb. He made so much progress in a span of a year, he can make even better progress in the year to come.

“Good morning,” her voice hummed softly, still sleepy.

“Good morning,” he replied, his arm reaching over to lay against her hip. “Sleep well?”

“Mmm hmm,” she murmured against his chest, burrowing herself closer to him. “Don’t want to get up.”

He huffed out a laugh, “That’s alright, neither do I.”

“Then stay,” she sighed, knowing that he would leave for work, “Stay a little longer, stay with me.”

Kaz was always punctual when it came to things, he never liked to be late of he could help it, but he had to admit, the feeling of her body so close, warm, and alive next to his, and to do it without feeling like he was drowning, how could he not take advantage of this moment and stay in her arms a bit longer? He’ll just explain that there was a lead that he had to follow right away or traffic, anything that would explain his late arrival.

They spent another hour in bed, before leisurely getting up to have a cozy breakfast, the scent of warm waffles hung in the air, tea softly waking them up, and the ever beautiful sound of her voice as she sang about the kitchen. It was like being a boy on the farm again, where everything seemed so peaceful, happy, and feeling so loved. He loved her, and she had often told him how she loved him, though how he couldn’t understand why, and they had lived out this wonderful life together, free from the expectations of the world, free from the hauntings of their past. She kissed him before she sat beside him on the window seat, looking out into the golden morning, the flowers gently swaying as a cool breeze blew across the sky, and birds singing their song in a nearby tree.

To anyone from Ketterdam, they would be shocked by the domestic image, Dirtyhands and his Songbird. But to anyone else, especially the couple inside the cottage, she was just a simple farm girl, and Kaz was just Kaz. And it was a wonderful feeling that he wouldn’t trade for all the world.

Tagging: @thedelusionreaderbitch​ @ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes​ @babyblue-chaos​ 

[astro-royale]

「 ☆:.｡･Top 3 Feminine Energy Tips 」

1. Feminine Energy is about Joy, Ease, Acceptance & receiving. If you are angry at yourself and cannot allow yourself to be happy; then it is hard to enter the flow of feminine energy. How can you receive Joy from the External world when you cannot allow yourself to feel that joy and to receive it from yourself?

We live in a like attracts like Universe, meaning your vibrational state will reflect back to you what you feel. Especially what you feel about yourself.

I recommend working on that Resistance and negative energy you have towards yourself & about yourself, because it’s taking up so much space . That even if someone did want to give you something, their energy would literally not have space because yours is taking up so much.

Which brings me onto my next point���..

2. You are putting soooo much energy out into the world; with the wrong intentions

So many of us give to others with the unconscious expectation that they have to give something back . Or we give purely so that we receive something back, only to be disappointed when that need isn’t met.

Yes it’s true that some people are takers and will try to take as much of you as they can.

But it’s also true that people can sense when a person is doing things purely for validation or for wanting something back in exchange.

I have an exercise I like to do which I recommend to all my people pleasing girlies. Try to become conscious of every-time you give with an expectation. That way, you can catch yourself and stop. Question your own motives. If there is any reminisce of expectation then just stop altogether. Because you’re operating in your methodical masculine energy which is goal and outcome oriented.

To truly give something, means to give it from the heart and to give that thing unconditionally. So… if you never catch yourself wanting to give for the sake of giving. It probably means you don’t take enough care of yourself and you are depleted from trying to please others. Gain your energy back sis, fill your own cup and spend some time alone giving to yourself what you expect from others.

That way, when you start giving to the world again, it is no longer laced with any transactional energy. And that way.. when you receive… it will also be pure and from the heart.

Massculine energy = Head (outcome oriented)

Feminine energy = Heart ( Just Being)

3. Practise Vipassana Meditation

Vipassana Meditation is a type of meditation which is about allowing yourself to feel the emotions stored in your body. It is a kind of meditation in which you you place your awareness on your body, and you scan to see what you feel in each part. With no judgement. It is simply an exercise of observation.

This way, you are practising just being . Which is what feminine energy is about. Feminine energy is just allowing things to unfold and be; and well, how can you interact with the world in such a way and Trust the Universe if you cannot even observe your own Universe and let your own emotions flow with the comfort and support of your own awareness.

That way you learn to listen to yourself, nurture yourself and guess what… the world at large will reflect that because EVERYTHING is connected and everything is energy.

If you want to support this blog as well as my research there’s a Tip option in the bio. Or CashApp me £astroroyale .This way I can keep posting high quality content for you as it encourages me in the process <3 :) Thank you & Much love

Taking care of yourself is the way Girlies

[the-wip-project]

SloMo WriNo: Q & A

A few questions about how the SloMo WriNo challenge have come in, so here's the answers to a few of the easy ones. (Don't worry, more complicated questions will be getting their own posts!)

When does it start? The official start date is November 1st.

However this challenge is about you finding your own long term writing rhythm. So if there’s some reason why you can’t begin for a week, a month, or even until next year, that’s fine. Feel free to jump in at any time, and even if you feel like you can’t ‘officially’ start your novel just yet, perhaps you can still begin trying out writing in a SloMo way. You may find yourself easing into things anyway!

Is this plan/event supposed to be just for novels?

Definitely not! I’ve had one person express their intention to write a series of novellas, another to do a second draft, and others plan on writing fanfiction. It’s for whatever you want to write but have been struggling with.

Do those min/max brackets apply for everything one would write in the year? Ideally yes! At least when it comes to writing you’re doing for your own self. (Writing for work and school obviously need to get done at whatever pace you’re required to do them!) The goal here is to establish writing as a long term sustainable habit. Now as time goes on you will probably want to tweak your minimum and maximum word counts, as you get more familiar with your own process. Please go ahead and do that, and then keep on writing within that adjusted ideal zone.

I’m kinda burned out. Should I even try to attempt this? That’s a tough one, and really something you need to answer for yourself based on your current situation and emotional state. If you do decide to attempt the challenge, I recommend keeping your goal word counts (at least initally) at a level that feels ‘too easy’ and taking at least two days each week off writing. If it starts feeling like too much, dial it back even further, or take some time off. This challenge will be going on all year, so you can hop in and out whenever you need to. No guilt needed!

Who are you and why are you claiming to be an expert on this stuff anyway? Actually no one has been so mean as to say that, but there’s been a little confusion about who I am and why I’m posting here. My name is Maree, and Barbex (the one who actually runs this blog) was kind enough to help me out with this challenge and let me post on the WIP blog and the WIP discord. (you can find my own blog at mareebrittenford.)

I completed my first novel in 2015, and since then I’ve written 8 novels, as well as assorted shorter stories and a few (okay maybe more than a few) fanfics. I have managed to publish 4 of the novels and a few short stories have made their way into magazines and anthologies. Now I don’t claim to be a great writer, but the one thing I’m confident of is that I’ve become very good at is Finishing My Stuff. (And finishing stuff with ADHD is a very special skill!)

I created this challenge to share all my tips and tricks, and hopefully help other people also Finish Their Stuff.

If you have any other questions about the challenge (or for me personally) you can reblog with comments, send an ask, or hop onto the WIP discord

[yanderelinkeduniverse]

WELCOME BACK BESTIE! IVE MISSED YOU! HOWS LIFE? ARE YOU DRINKING YOUR WATER?

Ahem- sorry I'll compose myself. I see requests are open and was wondering if I could ask for some Yandere Wild? Maybe he comes back after totk and he introduces his new darling he met during his second journey? Kinda like-

Wild: this is my precious wildflower, if anything happened to them I would destroy every Hyrule and then myself.

Chain: you mean OUR new darli-

Wild, holding a ruby stick: No. No I did not.

(If you do anons can I be 🍙 anon?)

Hey first ask! I haven’t ever thought about doing those cute little anon emojis, but sure that sounds like fun!

Quick disclaimer, you haven’t done anything wrong anon, but I’m just gonna reiterate that I have not played ToTK so far and I do not want to be spoiled. All I know so far is that you can build crazy stuff, there’s lots of enemies, stuff happens to the Master Sword, and that’s about it, so please be kind and do not spoil major story beats for me.

Sorry, just wanted to get that out of the way and make sure everyone is in the know. Anyways onto the actual ask.

Something I find very funny is that, the way this ask is worded, just implies that Wild is constantly having to beat back his fellow heroes - who all want a piece of his darling - with a stick.

Funnily enough, waaaaay back when this blog wasn’t even created and I just had a couple of ideas for the Chain being yandere, I had the idea of Wild having an honest to goodness partner during his journey. Not a companion, a partner, someone who shared his burden and title as “The Hero” and was with him from waking up(also with amnesia) to defeating the Calamity.

So perhaps when Wild gets taken away from the Chain to go complete this second quest, he gets that sort of partner who helps him from beginning to end. Someone who eases his pain and keeps him company in those dark nights when his thoughts are too loud.

I’m sure that a darling that would absolutely make the Chain jealous and want to get close too, but Wild is just super possessive and doesn’t want to share this one good thing in his life. But since his partner is now also a hero in their own right, they get dragged along for the ride as well and Wild has to work overtime to make sure the Chain doesn’t try anything sneaky.

Not sure if this is what you were imagining, but it’s the first thing that came to mind!

[wave2tyun]

sooo, hello!!🥹💞 or welcome back!!!!

i don’t really know how to start this, at first i prepared a pretty long text because i wanted to explain why exactly i deactivated and what has been happening, but in the end i chose to scrap that and not get into in detail because it’s all related to my personal life and it's probably better to just keep that private, plus it’s some pretty heavy stuff as well, and i don't want to load that onto you. so this has kind of turned into a ramble instead amdbjdn

truth is that i have been struggling, a lot. october was one of the worst months mentally for me, which is when i chose to deactivate. at some point i did start slowly feeling better and i wanted to come back on here earlier than this but then things got worse🙂 like so much fucking worse😭😭 it’s still hard to believe and it still hurts and i almost can’t stop thinking about it, but looking back, i’m at least glad about getting through things the way i did- because i feel like the me one year ago would have acted and handled those situations so differently, or maybe i would have barely been able to handle them at all.

in the midst of it all, i started to lose my passion for writing. writing stopped being a form of escapism or a way for me to use my creativity. it just felt like a burden. whenever i wanted to write and opened up a doc i just felt paralyzed only by looking at it. i couldn’t get anything out, nothing for days on end. i felt like i was losing myself, in multiple aspects, not just writing, and the disappointment that overcame me only added more and more to my stress.

and i’m not going to lie, i’m still struggling a lot to write again :’) but i do want to give it another try. maybe it’s the fact that i first started out last year in december that is kinda making my heart tingle for it again andbjsns this period of time feels nostalgic:(

however, due to personal reasons (not regarding anyone on here, just to make that clear) i’d feel much safer and much more at ease to continue with a different username, i hope you guys can understand. i do feel very attached to my previous one but i really want to be able to post comfortably.

i do kind of regret deleting my other blog because of all the memories i’ve lost, but at the same time i’m also happy i did it because in a way it allowed me to fully choose to work things out and focus on myself without feeling burdened or rushed.

i don’t know how long it’s gonna take for me to post something new. i’ve been working on multiple things at once but the progress has been quite slow ambdkdn but at least it’s something!!!! so it might take a long time, it might also not. i don’t know, i’m just gonna let things be and let them happen whenever they happen. maybe you guys can also tell me some of the fics i should repost?? i won’t do them all at once cause they were quite a lot and that would clog up the tags anbdjdnd + i also need to proofread them again cause most of the time i’d do that directly on tumblr before posting🥲

soooo yeah. if you’ve read through this whole post, i really appreciate it!! :(<33 i’m happy to return on here while being in a better state, and if there’s anybody who would like to talk, do feel free to send me a message or an ask!! i’m still at home on winter break, but i will go on a trip pretty soon😔✊🏻 just so you know in case i might be slow with posting/replying!!

i hope 2024 will treat both me and you well. i hope it can be a year of growth and love, a year where we can freely let go and start anew. in a world where you constantly get beat down for everything i still want to choose to be gentle, sensitive, and soft. i love you guys!!!! :(💞💓💖💘💞💓💞

[batking-lich]

it's been a hot minute since i did a book liveblog. without getting too into it, i took some time to myself to read some stuff i wasn't interested in liveblogging, i moved onto some stuff i might blog but still wasn't feeling it, then i burnt out on reading entirely for a while (and right as summer reading was starting 😭😭😭😭😭😭)

i was also feeling a little self-conscious. i've had a few liveblogs so far where i've dnf'd almost immediately. i don't regret dnf'ing those books, but it does feel like a bit of a let-down when i get all geared up to post about it and then it immediately kinda sucks lol. i also worry sometimes that my liveblogs are too negative. but i love complaining.

i'm gonna ease back into it, i think. i plowed through the dungeon meshi manga in one sitting which has given me a bit of confidence in my ability to focus i think, along with a temporary inoculation against my natural aversion to high fantasy. which means it's a perfect time to try and read Can't Spell Treason Without Tea by Rebecca Thorne.

All Reyna and Kianthe want is to open a bookshop that serves tea. Worn wooden floors, plants on every table, firelight drifting between the rafters… all complemented by love and good company. Thing is, Reyna works as one of the Queen’s private guards, and Kianthe is the most powerful mage in existence. Leaving their lives isn’t so easy. But after an assassin takes Reyna hostage, she decides she’s thoroughly done risking her life for a self-centered queen. Meanwhile, Kianthe has been waiting for a chance to flee responsibility–all the better that her girlfriend is on board. Together, they settle in Tawney, a town that boasts more dragons than people, and open the shop of their dreams. What follows is a cozy tale of mishaps, mysteries, and a murderous queen throwing the realm’s biggest temper tantrum. In a story brimming with hurt/comfort and quiet fireside conversations, these two women will discover just what they mean to each other… and the world.

This thing was advertised to hell and back here on tumblr. I don't normally read cozy fantasy (because of said distaste for high fantasy), but my friend really likes them, and I do like cozy mysteries, so why not try one. I'm also kind of a sucker for bookstores in books so.

tag is bats reads cstwot. wish me luck

[alharringtonfan]

8pm godposting because i dont ahve a joband this is my blog deal with it

It's deeply unfortunate that humans are so egotistical in nature. I believe it's a self defense mechanism and a way to keep our minds at ease from other vices such as envy and such but when you finally wake up and look back at all the evil thoughts you've had about other people...

I feel disappointment, digust at myself for not being able to control my savage human nature and letting it take power over my rational side. It's like the analogy of a man on an elephant. I know they have to learn how to coexist but I want to keep the elephant locked up forever. I don't like not having control over my human nature. I feel evil deep within because of these thoughts and urges. I won't ever lose control but to just have them is horrible.

We like to think our lives are so much better than of the others we dislike. That we are a better person because of our opinions/values that we consider to be "the ultimate best". It's kind of funny, for one single human to want to control 8 billion people into doing what they deem is correct and to live a certain way they believe is good. I shouldn't be doing that. If they live their lives like that, as long as they are only harming THEMSELVES and being delusional to themselves only, I can't think that I'm better for not being like them because I myself have my own way of living someone else might see as destructive. May it be for their own ideology, group values, etc. Someone might see me having the opinions I have as problematic. But who they are to judge? We have our principles set on the Bible and on the greater common that is set through debates. Not all change is good but how would have we gotten to this point if not for change? I wouldn't be writing this if not for change, but some horrifying side-effects have come along with it. How can I not poison myself with my evil thoughts but also try to engage on this debate for the greater good (that I have assigned myself)? Doing this I will inherently start thinking negatively of the other party, yet I still shouldn't think that I'm better because of that. I should have to be driven by the need to help others in whatever way I feel that's best (which again, a kind of help that I have assigned myself). I fear for the future, because we don't have preassigned follow-ups for each action which means we're taking risks on picking and choosing what's the right agenda to follow. That hasn't turned out well as we can see from recent years, but good stuff has surged with that.

It's a balance. Humanity will never be truly good nor truly evil. It's a grand world made up of shades of black and white, looking mostly gray. I myself am one, so I think we should strive for a lighter shade of gray, not thinking we can ever be fully white... Sometimes, we have to sacrifice a bit of the control over the elephant for stability. I might never be perfect, but the least I can do is hold onto it for as long as possible, as stably as possible. As long as I'm trying with all my might, I feel like God may forgive me.

I mean, I'm a Cesark obsessed loser whose whole identity revolves around politics. I shouldn't be one to talk about someone for using retarded words to describe themselves or for being generally strange. Only the Lord is there to judge. I have to live my life. Which I hope can be a long one. The longest a human can live, I want it.

[satanandsoul]

noooo it was a good kind of overwhelming, dw!! also i genuinely enjoy the way you make posts! like for real.

i was actually slowly trying to ease myself into sending an ask related to this but how did you get into astrology and tarot reading. your posts and blog, in general, is very well put together.

also, i may sound like a broken clock but it's so interesting to read the birth chart readings that you do!!! the way you point out things and further explain it is very 👌🏼

Bless your kind soul for saying this!!! I cannot thank you enough for giving me such a confidence boost. 💕💛💕

Well, it was a sad story of how I got into astrology. I started studying astrology around 8 years after one of my family members died. I needed something to distract myself. So I picked up astrology. At that time I was a broke student. I could not afford buying astrology books. So I made good use of Google, YouTube and Tumblr. But of course, back then, there wasn't as much information on astrology as there is now. So I combed through every piece of information on astrology that I could get hold of online. I started with my own natal chart first. I would research on how every of my own astrological placement and aspect means. Then I expand my research scope onto celebrities. But I am by no means fluent in the language of stars. Even now, I need to check the meanings of aspects and placements and how they manifest in real life online every now and then.

And how I got into tarot reading is another story. Three years ago, I came across a tarot reading channel on YouTube called antphrodite. He does very entertaining tarot readings on true crimes and pop culture gossip. (He is the inspiration behind why I started a poll asking if I should do true crime tarot readings on this blog.) Do check that YouTube channel out if any of these interest you. Then YouTube started recommending other tarot pick a card videos for me. And I learnt how to read tarot cards by watching those videos. Of course I read some books on tarot. But I can tell you what they teach in books does not always apply to real life reading. Sometimes, you just need to go with your intuition. And it is quite shameful to say, I am now more fluent in tarot than in astrology. 😅

And there is something about all these pick a card readings on Tumblr that concerns me. Some blogs don't show the tarot cards that they got for the piles, or worse, they don't mention what cards they got. They simply present the messages. And I am so confused as how on earth they get those messages. Well, I guess that is how psychics work. This is something I am unable to do now or in the future.

Oh this answer is getting way too wordy. Sorry. I hope it does not bore you. Because all I want to do is to entertain people. Again, disclaimer: please don't make big life decisions based on my interpretation of astrology or tarot. See it as your pastime and it will be good enough for me.

[15560931-moved]

really considering moving blogs bc it’s been years of being on this hellsite they still haven’t made the option to swap side blogs and primary blogs (:3_っ)っ

[shreddedparchment]

Perennial Pt.14

05/01/2022

Blue Monday

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 2,033

Warning: language, fluff, hangovers, death, grief

Featured Flower: None

A/N: So...this chapter...look, this story was only supposed to be something tiny to work on while I dealt with my endometriosis flare ups to keep my writing going however, it became something more and also, the first few chapters were written with so much time between them that I forgot about several story plotlines I’d started. I’m so sorry that this is just shoehorned in here. This is my most embarrassing mistake as a writer to date and I hate it to the point that I almost don’t even want to continue the story. I decided this isn’t what’s best and that I will go back and add in a bit of work to the previous chapters so that the threat I pick up here flows more seamlessly throughout the story.

Again, I’m sorry for my lackluster work. I’m so embarrassed. Anywho, enjoy the chapter!

Please DO NOT copy, repost, or translate any of my stories on other sites or blogs!

Don’t steal! Don’t be a dick.

Your whole world is shaking. There is pain everywhere. The stinging burn on your leg is sharp but it doesn't matter as it only adds to the swirling of your tummy and the nails being hammered into your temples.

There's a sudden BOOM followed by an earsplitting CREEAAAAK, and then the THUD, THUD, THUD, of heavy boots.

It's all right in your ear making your brain shake within your very hard skull.

It's exploding outwards while simultaneously being crushed from without.

You groan, trying not to let the sharp CLANK, CLINK, and CHINK of what must be your keys hitting the counter in your tiny kitchen overwhelm you completely.

Nope. Too late. It's all too much. You're aware of the brightness in your eyes. Blinding light that comes with wretched summer heat.

You're an endless stream of groans as you reach to pull your blanket over your face. The soft cool fabric eases your heated skin but then the bed bounces and you hear a heavy sigh.

"WAKEY WAKEY SUNSHINE!"

Your head splits in two and the pain sends a rolling wave of nausea to test your limits.

You growl and kick your foot out in the general direction of where the voice came from.

There's a familiar chuckle and a hand catches your foot. Gently your leg is placed down on a lap as a cooler metal hand begins to slowly massage the little aching spot at the center of your foot that you can never reach.

It feels so good you almost pass out again but then a faint whooshing noise breaks the air and it passes so quickly your muddled brain doesn't have time to connect the noise to what it means.

The hit lands before you can process and your thigh is suddenly a throbbing inferno.

"AH!" You cry out, yanking your leg away and finally turning your blurry eyes onto the stupid super soldier sitting at the end of your bed.

He's grinning from ear to ear and then he yanks the blanket off of you, exposing your nearly naked left leg. It's only peeking through the slit of your red dress but it's enough that your underwear are probably visible.

You quickly move to close the slit but your eyes are halted by the wrapped up thigh smeared with some kind of cream.

Bucky throws a tube at you and it hits your chest lightly.

"I slathered you up then rewrapped it." He says plainly. "You owe me sixty bucks."

"How did I get a tattoo?" You demand, shocked and dismayed. Mostly confused. Also still hungover as fuck.

"Guess." Bucky chuckles then reaches over and slaps your thigh again, this time slightly higher and on the back of your leg so that you might even consider it slapping your ass actually.

What the hell?

"Get up. I got breakfast."

He doesn't wait for you to respond to his playful but deliberately painful hits or his order to get up and just rises and leaves your bedroom.

It takes you too long to get up and you have to force yourself to find the will to do it but eventually you find your way out into the living room and kitchen and move to take a seat at the island where Bucky has a plate set for you to sit at with a breakfast sandwich waiting to be eaten.

Beside the plate there's also a glass of water, aspirin, and a cup of coffee.

The smells in your apartment are intoxicating and it draws you to sit and eat.

You're shoveling down the food so quickly that you don't realize Bucky is staring at you.

As you lick your fingers, you stop with one tip pressed to your tongue mid-lick as you finally see the mild shock on his face. Eyes slightly wide, one eyebrow quicker.

"You okay?" He asks, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

You nod, get up, and move around the island and behind him to wash your hands before taking your seat at the island again.

Bucky nudges the pills which you take eagerly.

"I shoulda brought you some Gatorade," he muses.

"Do you have to talk so loud?" You ache, reaching up to press your hand to your forehead.

"Oh, I'M SORRY. AM I TALKING TOO LOUD?"

Removing your hand, you glare at him.

"Jerk. Ow…" You shift and reach down to your leg to feel at the plastic wrapping it up.

"What’s wrong?" Bucky asks, rushing around the island to pull up your dress enough to see the spot you're fussing with.

"It hurts."

Bucky sighs heavily, chewing on another sandwich bite as he takes his spot again.

"No shit, kid. You got someone to take a needle and draw pretty pictures all over your ass."

"That’s not my ass," you frown. "It's my thigh."

He rolls his eyes.

"Don't you know the difference between thighs and an ass?" You tease, meaning to insult him.

"I don't know. Let me get another look," he says, moving around the island half way before you throw your finger out at his spot.

"Don't you dare! Go eat your sandwich!"

He smirks and you know he’s just teasing you right back.

This whole morning has been one big tease, in more ways than one and you feel your neck and cheeks burn at the ease with which he's taking care of you.

"Bucky?" You probe gently, rubbing at your temples wishing the pills would kick in sooner.

"Yeah?" He asks, focused on his food and his phone as he scrolls through texts.

"How did I get home? When did I get this tattoo?" You wonder, trying desperately to remember the night but only remembering a hazy bout of sitting on Steve's lap and all the more sober things that happened before that.

He stops chewing. He stops almost breathing it looks like to you before he meets your eyes and starts moving again.

"You don't remember?" He asks, a small something in his voice that you can't place.

"Mm-mm," you say, shaking your head. "No."

He thinks for a moment then goes back to his food.

"What do you remember?" He asks.

"Uh…I remember heading to the bar. I remember grabbing the first few rounds of drink. I remember asking Steve to dance and then um…sitting on his lap? That's kinda hazy though. Did that really happen?"

Gosh, you hope it didn't. Otherwise, you'll have to hid from Steve for like six weeks.

Bucky scoffs, "Yeah. That happened. Got all nice and cuddly with your head on his shoulder too. You sure there's nothing going on there?"

"What?" You gasp, sitting up straighter and massaging the base of your neck. Fuck, your head hurts. "No! Of course not! Steve is my friend. Besides, there's someone else I like."

The words feel weightless as they leave your mouth.

You feel numb all over suddenly, not believing you just said what you said. Why would you tell him that?!

"Oh?" He probes, then waits in silence and stares at you.

"None of your business, nosy."

Your heart is pounding in your chest and your hands are suddenly clammy. Oh man, why did you say that? You hope he drops it.

"So you don't remember me bringing you inside and tucking you in?" He pushes away from the island and grabs your plate along with his own then moves to the sink to wash them both.

"You tucked me in?" You smile, unable to help the giddiness this fills you with. Then the sadness follows.

You wanna remember him tucking you in.

"Maybe."

Disappointment flows through you.

"We'll, did you or not?!" You demand, getting slightly irritated by the tease of it all.

"Guess you'll just always have to wonder." Bucky tortures you.

"Asshole," you gripe and push yourself off the stool.

"Where are you going?" He asks, surrender in his voice.

You peek at him and the sight of him leaning against your sink in his t-shirt and jeans as he wipes his hands dry on one of your kitchen towels is so swoon worthy your nearly turn back. Nearly.

"To take a shower. Maybe you should go home and take your own, stinky." You argue then stick out your tongue for good measure.

Bucky laughs once, just a quick huff before he tosses the towel aside.

"Fine. I'll see you later at the shop then, yeah?" He shouts after you.

You slip into the bathroom and shut the door then turn on the shower and listen for his heavy steps to move down the hallway and out the front door.

Instead you jump and two loud knocks on the door startle you.

"Hey," Bucky’s deep and muffled timbre pushes in. "You're opening the shop today, right?"

"Yes. Of course. I have a business to run." You fight, feeling embarrassed for jumping.

"Okay. I'll be there later then. Oh, and your phone is ringing." A moment of silence. "Who is Gregory? This the guy you like?"

His casual tone contrasts the sudden panic you feel and you yank the door open and pull your phone out of his metal hand and stare at the name for a moment to make sure you aren't seeing things.

You swipe the screen and answer the call, "Greg?"

"Hello," An accented voice pulls through, a female one at that. "I'm so sorry to disturb you but is this the owner of Metro Blooms?"

“Yes, yes.” You give her your name and move to sit on your bed, free hand pressed to your mattress.

Bucky sits down beside you and places his metal hand on your back with concern.

“Hello, I’m so glad I’ve finally been able to find you. We’ve been searching for a way to contact you and silly me forgot that I had Gregory’s phone stashed away in a drawer in my office.”

“Oh,” you reply lamely. “Um, I don’t-who are you? Where’s Greg?”

“Who’s Greg?” Bucky whispers to you and you meet his eyes before holding your phone to your chest to muffle your voice.

“My partner in the shop.”

“You have a partner?” He gasps.

“Shh,” you whisper and hold the phone to your ear again. The woman is mid-sentence.

“-and he got very sick very quickly. Unfortunately, as his attorney, I am tasked with calling to let you know that Mr. Ranger died from complications with his illness. His heart gave out. It all happened very suddenly and his new wife also, sadly passed shortly after.”

“Oh my God,” you gasp, pressing your free hand to your mouth before you absentmindedly reach for Bucky’s hand in search of comfort.

He takes it, holding it between his two while leaning forward to look at your face better.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. I understand it was just the two of you?” The woman asks, reminding you of how now you have no family.

“Uh…yeah. I-My parents died when I was very young and when we were just finishing high school my aunt and uncle were in a car accident. It’s been me and Greg since we were seventeen,” you tell her, voice barely above a whisper.

“I see,” she says sympathetically but you can hear it in her voice that there’s more and she wants to get it over with.

“You-you didn’t just call to tell me my cousin is dead, did you?” You wonder, sniffling as tears begin to trickle along your cheeks.

“No. I’m calling to inform you that your cousin through some very clever investments had made himself quite the fortune. And he left it all to you. Along with a note that I will be more than happy to give you. I am in the city for about a week if you can make some time to see me? There are also a few papers that will need your signature before the wealth is transferred to you.”

“Um…okay…”

Nevermind your hangover, or the spinning in your stomach. Your grief is slowly coming on and by the time you hang up with Greg’s secret lawyer about his stupid secret money, you’re ready to collapse onto the bed and shut the world out.

[babyjakes]

wantin' this all day. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

summary | after a long day of studying, chris decides it’s time for you to take a break and unwind, and there couldn’t be a better place to do that than right in his arms.

pairing | boyfriend!chris x college student!reader

warnings | none? school stress, that’s it. very sweet, very soft, age gap kinda

word count | 630

requested by @caramelunicorns | Hi! I saw you’re taking requests and was wondering if you could do a soft makeout/cuddle session one with Chris x girlfriend!reader? A younger reader (19-20s maybe, whtvr you’re more comfortable with)? Thanks in advance! :)

an | hi thank you so so much for this request! i’m so sorry about taking so long to finish it, but i hope you enjoy <3 this kind of also turned into a comfort from school thing? idk. i thought a 19-20yr old reader might be doing some college :-) (god knows i am and it is truly the worst lol). it’s just a short, sweet little thing, but i really love it! so soft :’-) soft chris is my absolute fav.

“Com’ere, sweetheart,” Chris calls from the couch across the room as you flip aimlessly through the pages of your textbook, pulling slightly on your hair in frustration. You’ve been studying for the past several hours for a test coming up in a few days and at this point, you really feel like just dumping your book in the trash and dropping out of school for good. All the while your loving boyfriend has been in the room with you, keeping his distance but also keeping an eye on you, wanting to make sure you don’t overwork yourself.

“Sorry, I can’t,” you shake your head, wishing more than anything that you could just forget about the stupid content altogether and go cuddle up with Chris.

“Come on, y/n,” he reasons seriously, his voice dripping with concern. “You’ve been at it since lunch, and even then I could barely tear you away for a meal break. You’ve done enough for today; and I miss holding you.”

You sigh, your brain not even processing the words that are coming in through your eyes anymore. Finally caving in, you close your textbook roughly, pushing your chair back from the table and letting out an exhausted huff. “Fine,” you agree. “I don’t think I can read another sentence without having a total meltdown.” Rising to your feet, you make your way over to the couch where Chris is waiting for you with a wide smile and open arms.

“Com’ere, bubba,” he coaxes as you climb up beside him on the soft cushion, his arms immediately wrapping around you and drawing you closer to his large frame. Your legs come up across his and he pulls you onto his lap with ease, your own arms wrapping around his neck as he cradles your back gently, one of his hands coming up and brushing your hair back from your cheek. “There’s my pretty girl,” he coos softly, planting a kiss on your forehead. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you, too,” you admit shyly as heat rises through your cheeks, “been wantin’ this all day.” He looks softly into your eyes, his gaze holding an abundance of warmth and affection as he nods, clearly having been thinking the same thing. “I have no idea how the test is gonna go,” you tell him anxiously.

“Hey, that’s okay. How about we forget about the test for a little while, hmm? Just take some time together to relax,” he suggests, and you nod, appreciating his help in keeping you from working yourself up too much about your schoolwork.

“Okay,” you agree, doing your best to ease up as he holds you closely to him. Noticing that you’re struggling to do so, he continues to rub his thumb over your cheek, giving you another kiss on your nose as you do your best to let go of all your built-up anxiety and frustration.

“C’mon, sweetheart. You can relax; it’s okay,” he murmurs, trying his best to help you unwind. “There you go, that’s it,” he soothes as he feels your muscles finally starting to soften against his arms, his hand shifting from rubbing your cheek to stroking through your hair. “I’ve got you, doll. You can spend the whole night with me, right here, just like this. How does that sound?” he offers, already knowing the answer as you lean slightly against his chest, breathing in his safe, familiar scent.

“Promise?” you ask shyly, loving the way his strong arms feel around you as they hold you tight, almost in a protective way.

“Promise,” he confirms, his lips coming back down again, this time meeting with yours. Slowly, sweetly, he kisses you, the warmth of his mouth and his breath leaving tingles on your skin and butterflies in your stomach.

[prof-peach]

:0 I've never seen the other Pokemon on your team, what are they like?

My perma-team is a vulpix, Valka, a 20+ year old heavy hitter, despite her small stature. She was my very first pokemon, through gritted teeth we bonded, and now I fondly refer to her as my shadow. I go no where without her. She puts everyone who resides on the island in their place with unnerving strength. like literally any comic she's somewhere in the background, if not underfoot. Not hard to find more art of her, she is quite menacing.

Then we have Booker, Teddiursa, silly old grumpy bear. He had a hard time with poachers when he was real young, and imprinted on me during my ranger days many years ago now. He doesn't want to evolve, wears an everstone bead on his tail. He's partially blind on one side but we hiked to a colony of Machop and trained with them in the mountains for months to help him regain balance and confidence! He seems grouchy but is actually sweet.

Then we got Minerva, a shiny lopunny i nabbed at an airport when i was quite young, from a bad breeder. she was a scabby weedy flea infested runt when we first met, hardly the pink colour you'd usually expect from her type. She is fierce and fearless, will jump head first into anything with confidence and style. Loves to dress up, steals a lot of my nicer clothes. Will smash you into bits if you cross her, a total diva and i'd change nothing.

you've no doubt recently noticed the posts about Boadicea, a CharizardXGarchomp hybrid who's the baby of the group. Needy, clingy, total idiot, lap pokemon despite her ridiculous size. Very fast mount for flying.

For ground travel i use a dear Stantler called Donut, he's rather docile if you're not a problem to his "herd", with a neck so thick and strong you can hold onto his antlers and be lifted with ease. He's very chill.

We got a delivery Noctowl whos been around the block with me a few times too, lil guys really friendly, no real name for him, we all just call him 'Fancy pants' or 'dude'. hes got fancy eyebrows.

Of course not forgetting Quintin, a Scizor, my first egg hatch ever, been with me since i was a real youngster, a gentle soft sweet boy with a heart of gold, and collectively about 4 braincells. We all adore him.

then theres the house pokemon, each of these has blurb in the blog somewhere, they're all rather naughty... except Bob and Rosco. They're a delight.

uhhh lets see, this rat is always under my feet.

And then theres the pokemon who are out and about. the team mates who do jobs around the island, usually maintaining the peace.

Theres also 3 Bronzong that hang about the island,

Some notable partners from my various travels and adventures would iniclude

Dutch - Porygon-Z (helps around the lab, very loving, bit mad)

Typhlosion - Propane (odd markings, a spicy meatball)

Grimm - Steelix (real docile, very into scratches)

Riot - Lycanroc/midnight (Fiery, naughty, likes to thrash)

Suneater - Golisopod (shy, kind and very smart, loves to be alone)

Jewel - Ribombee (mean tempered! fussy)

Wotsit - Vikavolt (real clingy and super curious, to a fault)

Hemlock - Heracross - (a total babe, really protective and jolly)

Potato - -Bulbasaur (strict but fair, very old)

Murdoc - Crobat (timid in the light, proud of his speed)

Sugar - Tyranitar (Soft baby lady, total gentle giant)

Summer - Meganium (variant lady, gentle, calming aura, healer)

Tobi - Dreadnaw (rare water type for me, he's always sleeping)

Moss - Stonjourner (covered in moss, aptitude for grass attacks)

Zeplin - Aerodactyl (old battle maiden, now retired to the mountains)

Madam - Eldegoss - (will try to poison you, shiny, total nuisance)

I must admit, i often am one to release pokemon back to the wild, but the ones mentioned here are pokemon who have had the option to leave, and have chosen to stick around (apart from Madam who is a liability if left to go free), at least for now. We've been on many adventures together, and now work side by side managing the island. I have yet to draw them all but theres at least some visuals here for you. This also doesn't include pokemon who are residents at the lab and its facilities, who like our company but are not technically registered to myself or any of the staff. We breed all kinds of grass types, and they're all pretty friendly give or take, so if we have a certain job that needs more hands, we can call upon the residents who suit the work. Many of them have been through treatment or rehab with us, and we've built up a relationship with them, enough to work well together.