#Do I need to tag all of them? Probably right?

[ln4smiamitrophy]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 ————— part 1

𐙚 summary; the one where lando norris reunites with his childhood love at the Monaco Grand Prix and is convinced he’s over her. after all, it’s been 7 years. he can’t still love her, right?

ʚɞ pairing; lando norris x influencer!reader

ᡣ𐭩 fc; jadeybird on ig

⭒ type; irl x smau (there will be more smau in later parts)

⟡ a/n; i’ve come to realise that there aren’t many stories on here where the reader is mid/plus-sized. as a mid/plus-size girl myself, i personally can find it upsetting when there is mainly only representation of the body types that society deems to be conventionally attractive and not a lot of representation of others, they are common body types and they are attractive. i have struggled with body image in the past and i still do on occasion, if anyone who reads this ever needs anyone to talk to about this or literally anything else, feel free to message me and i’ll always get back to you. love you all, you beautiful people xx

comment to be added to my tag list <3

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

Lando Norris loved the Monaco Grand Prix. Who didn’t? The history behind the race, the atmosphere, it was overall an amazing experience every year. And best of all, he was able to stay at home. When travelling so often meant never staying in one place too long, he was grateful for one time a year he could sleep in his own bed the night before a race.

It was race day and, as per, the track was as chaotic as usual. From the mechanics frantically checking to make sure the cars were ready for the race to the fans filling the track to the brim, it was hard to get a moment alone. In fact, Lando had barely had one since he stepped foot on the track. He’d been pulled into meetings and interviews left, right and centre.

Amongst all the chaos he finally has some time to himself as he heads to the track for the national anthem. He’s walking in silence, head down as he makes his way over. He keeps going over the strategy for the race in his head, he’s starting in p4. Overtakes are hard on this circuit, everyone knows that. All Lando wants this race is to preserve his tyres and hold his position.

It’s like the universe made it happen. Just as he lifted his head up, he’s met with someone he never thought he’d see again. Y/n. His first true love. They were together for three years, but when it became abundantly clear that Lando would be joining Mclaren for the 2019 formula one season, they couldn’t deal with the consequences that brought for their relationship, and ultimately it ended.

She doesn’t see him, and he’s almost relieved she didn’t. It’s been seven years since the end of their relationship, and yet upon seeing her he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she is. She’s changed, naturally, they were just teenagers when they separated. But she’s still as breathtaking as he remembers. He couldn’t be thinking about this. Not now. He pushes these feelings down, repressing them as much as he can as he finds his spot on the carpet and the national anthem begins. He needs to focus on the race.

———————————————————————

78 laps later and he was p4. Lando knew he probably wasn’t going to gain any positions during the race due to the circuit but he still can’t help but feel slightly disappointed in himself. Ever since his first win in Miami, since he was finally able to prove that he can win races, he’s craved it again. That feeling when he passed the checkered flag in first place, he wanted it again. It’s natural in his line of work to want to be the best, he’s surrounded by 19 other drivers who all want to be on that top step every weekend. But his teammate was p2, he was proud of him. Overall a good weekend for the team.

After the race was just as chaotic as the start, between interviews and press conferences and briefings, the only quiet time Lando gets is in between them. So that’s what he’s doing. Walking in silence towards the interview pen as his pr manager talks in his ear. He’s not paying attention to where he goes and so of course he has to walk into someone.

“Sor-“ He says looking up at them, expecting to send a small smile their way before continuing but that’s not what happens. “Y/n..”

“Lando…” Her voice is still as soft as it was all those years ago. He just gazes at her and neither makes a move to look away. That is until she clears her throat, looking down.

“How’ve you been?” Lando asks, a feeble attempt to get her to stay just a little longer. He doesn’t want her to walk away just yet. Just a moment longer.

“I’ve been well,” Glancing back up at him and he can tell she’s hesitant, he doesn’t blame her. Breathing out, she sighs before she speaks once more, “I watched Miami, congratulations on your first win.”

She still watched, she’d watched him win. He doesn’t quite know why he thought she wouldn’t; she’d always had a love for motorsports. It’s one thing they bonded over as teens.

“Thank you,” He can’t help the soft smile that graces his face. Lando mentally curses himself for glancing over her shoulder, being met with the slightly annoyed face of his pr manager. He should be in the pen by now.

He looks back at her, nodding. “I should probably go… it was good to see you.” She just nods at him, smiling softly, watching as he walks away.

Arriving at the pen, Lando takes a deep breath, forcing himself back into the driver headspace.

———————————————————————

Five hours later and he’s stood in a club, music blasting, bodies dancing all around him and he’s stood nursing the same drink for the past 20 minutes, taking with George. Normally Lando loves a party, out of the whole driver grid he’s the one you’re most likely to spot coming in and out of clubs on a Sunday night. But tonight he’s just not in the mood and he just can’t figure out why. Though he has reason to believe it’s got something to do with the girl he can spy dancing over George’s shoulder.

He can’t help but let his eyes dart towards her every couple minutes. He watches as she dances surrounded by people, laughing and smiling without a care in the world: he used to be able to make her do that. The countless nights they’d spend wrapped up in each other, talking about whatever came to mind, the soft giggles she’d let out anytime Lando said something even remotely funny as his hands would occupy themselves in her hair. They all came back to him as he watched her.

Clearing his throat and downing the rest of his drink, he turns to George, dismissing himself before heading to the bar and deciding he was going to drink away the thoughts of the girl that was seemingly occupying his mind like a plague. He certainly does just that and three hours later, Lando is black out drunk basically lying down in the back of a taxi as Carlos sits there with him, making sure he gets home safely.

———————————————————————

A groan immediately falls from Lando’s mouth as he wakes up with a hangover straight from hell. He buries himself under his duvet until he finally decides he needs something for the pain. Peeling the duvet off of his body, he stands up, jumping slightly at his phone ringing. It’s Carlos.

“Please remind me to never drink again,” Lando states the moment he answers the phone and he’s met with Carlos laughing into his ear.

“It’s that bad?” The spaniard asks and Lando can hear his smirk down the phone. Letting out a grumbled “yes” Lando drags himself into the bathroom where he keeps his painkillers.

“What even happened?” Carlos questions him, “Didn’t you say you weren’t gonna drink much?”

“I don’t know,” Lando sighs, swallowing the painkillers, finishing the glass of water. He’s lying. He knows why but he’s not going to tell Carlos that.

His mind drifts back to the short conversation he had with her the day before. The way she danced in the club. The way she laughed. Her smile. Shaking his head, he pushes it down. He ends the phone call with Carlos, making the excuse he’s going back to bed, hoping to sleep off the hangover.

But he can’t get back to sleep, he’s never been able to fall back asleep after waking up, envying people who find it so easy. After 10 minutes of trying, he finds himself hauling himself into his living room, sprawling out on the sofa and watching whatever Netflix recommends him.

He has no clue what he’s watching but then again, he’s not really paying attention. His mind kept travelling back to her. No matter what he tried. He told himself it was just shock. The shock of seeing her again. And before he knew it, he was opening instagram, typing in her name and clicking her most recent post.

———————————————————————

y/nusername

liked by yourbff, landonorris and others

tagged yourbff, scuderiaferrari

y/nusername monaco, you are so sexy

thank you @scuderiaferrari for the invite <3

comments…

yourbff girls trips with you are the best <3

⤷ y/nusername i love you <3

user1 y/n being an f1 girlie is literally the best thing to ever happen to me

user2 y/n just proving “hot girls love f1” to be true

scuderiaferrari loved having you around

*liked by y/nusername*

⤷ y/nusername loved being around

alexandrasaintmleux loved meeting you, we need to hang out again!!

⤷ y/nusername you’re an angel, we need to!!

user3 i wanna party with y/n so bad

⤷ user4 me too!! she’s deffo the most fun ever

yourfriend1 missing you :/

⤷ y/nusername missing you more honeybun

user5 lando in the likes??

⤷ user6 he’s in the likes but they don’t follow each other

———————————————————————

part 2 soon !!

taglist; @soamericn @urfavwelshie @realcherryjam @danielshoe @coastalrainae

[moonit3]

Yandere Leonard x male employee.

I imagine that the reader is a restaurant worker, actually a waiter, who attracted Leonard's attention and he decides to harass you.

You refuse his advances and he gets angry, grabs you and you slap him in the face.

LATE WALK NIGHT

⟡ cw: male yandere, amab/male! reader, toxic behavior as usual, unwanted flirting from yan!, attempted sexual harassment from yan towards reader but nothing happens (i swear), violence, the yan! gets slapped by reader, insomnia from readers part, toxic environment at work, bad people as coworkers.

⟡ word count: 2.8 k

⟡ yandere! male ceo x amab/male! reader

⟡ notes: ah yes, leonard is getting popular and i am happily to announce another fanfic with him today. and i am here to tell why i am not uploading fanfics as usual, the main reason is that i am both busy with college (nothing surprising) and that my family decided to bring me to a surprise vacation with them, my brother and his significant other (everything is going great btw). so yeah, posts might get even slower than the usual, but don’t abandon me, specially the male readers as there will be plenty of content for you guys.

the small bakery of downtown buzzed with the common saturday’s chatter as you, a young waiter, weaved through the many clients with ease. balancing the tray full of streaming coffee and pastries was a common chore, yet for this evening, things were slightly different as unfamiliar face is sitting at the best table of the place, at the balcony. he is there by himself, unlike other customers, and you approached the table with a smile on the face.

“here’s your cappuccino and macaroons,” you placed the items in front of him, happy to see a new face around the cozy spot. it isn’t always that a new customer manages to get this place, one that has to be reserved weeks in advance. “enjoy the pastry, sir.“

“thank you, mr. [name].” the man replied, his eyes lingering on you for a bit too longer to check the name tag at your name tag. “i have the feeling that you are an attentive waiter, aren’t you? i feel special to have someone like you serving this delicious meal to me.”

you cleared your throat. maintaining your professional demeanor isn’t the easy when a handsome man like this one flirts with you, but you need to keep calm and keep this job. “i-it’s part of the job, sir.” the tiny blush on your cheek is noticeable by the man’s eyes, but he decided to stay quiet about it. “is there anything else you would like to order…?”

he pouted slightly, but quickly a smile made to his face. “i’m sure that you always get compliments from everyone by your appearance and sweet demeanor, am i right?” a finger of his traces the edge of the cup of coffee, it’s almost hypnotic to see his long fingers doing a act so simple, yet to interesting that makes you forget about working. “or could it be that i am the first one to say that?”

another word from this man and you could fainted from embarrassment. it’s quite common when clients flirt with you for all short of excuses such as your personality, appearance, voice and even saying that a young man like you should be pampered by someone older! those people are nuts by telling those things, don’t they know to keep by themselves? you already told him you aren’t interested, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint…

“ahh…” great. now you got nothing to say to him and seeing the smile on the man’s lips, he is probably thinking you are into it and is going to keep bothering you for as long he is here. isn’t life fascinating? well, not for an underpaid employee of this fancy bakery.

his chin rest on the gloved hand, trying a new way to keep looking smooth as you just want to be somewhere else, but here. “well, the answer doesn’t really matter when i am the one who will be the owner of your heart, right?”

you stared at the man in disbelief. not in millions of years, you thought that someone would be so shameless flirting with you like he is, it’s almost like this is a game he has to win. and of course, you are the prize for him. but how far he is willing to go to gain you?

it’s one hundred percent confirmed that rich people are weird and don’t know when to stop talking.

“sorry, sir.” luckily, this time you managed to speak up for yourself. “but like i said, i have no interest in dating. i am happily with my work. sorry for that.”

wait. why are you apologizing? it’s not your fault for making this situation uncomfortable and awkward for both parties, the one who has to be guilt for it is the man! he is supposed to be the one apologizing for making you feel bad for rejecting him. yet he is the one with the money, he is the one who can easily get you fired for the smallest reasons, so you have to act like a good and humble waiter.

the man’s smile disappears when you take a few steps backwards, away from the table and him. he doesn’t look so happy now and he doesn’t bother to hide it, you feel like he is going to explode anytime soon.

“are you sure of it?” he asked, trying to remain his patience in check, but it’s getting hard when you nodded. “if you say so, then i will be taking my leave.”

he gets up from his seat, revealing that he is way taller than you’ve expected and the long coat covering his body makes him twice as intimidating to you. with a final glance at you, the man leave a two hundred bill at the table, way too much compared to his original expenses.

you stood still for about a minute or so after he left, just to make sure he wasn’t coming back to taunt you again. when you felt to go back to work, things got colder and slightly agonizing within the bakery.

the other workers at the bakery began staring at you with jealousy after learning about the man who you served earlier, the one who left an extra tip of one hundred dollars to you. they never liked you, they always felt jealous and envy of the customer who always preferred to be served by you. and the couple who owns the bakery had the brilliant idea of making you the responsible for closing the shop today. according to their words, it is because everyone else has worked so hard and that you look so relaxed that could do just an extra task.

it’s easy to say that you hate everyone at this stupid job and if you could, you would fire yourself to find somewhere else. but things aren’t always so easy and simple like that, also this is the closest place from the apartment complex you currently live.

“idiots…” the heavy trash bags are going to kill your back one day and when that day comes, you will sue everyone here. “fucking idiots who think they are better than me!”

with enough force and courage, you thrown the garbage right into the trash bin. it’s almost pitiful that you feel exhausted for doing a simple task, damn it, you need to work out at the gym if you manage to get back to the morning shift. after throwing the last one out, a tiny piece of happiness reached for your chest, you could finally leave and go back home! after all, you deserve to rest after a long night of working hard and being throwing around by your own coworkers.

you made your way inside the bakery once again through the back doors, then after minutes of checking if everything was in place and changing clothes, you were ready to leave for tonight. you deserve a good rest after everything you went through.

a yawn came from your lips when you began walking away from the bakery, the cold weather of the night always welcomed you during the path back home and it’s nice to have the opportunity to admire the many starts upon the sky. it’s one of the few things you enjoy from working at the afternoon/night shift. looking at the sky never fails to amaze you after working on that stupid place.

becoming so bewildered by the stars always leaves you oblivious to your surroundings. and that makes it twice as easy to someone to just grab and steal you away from the world, am i right? you must be quite stupid to think that you are safe from the consequences of waking home in the middle of the night. don’t you know there will always someone who will try to hurt you? and you are, unfortunately, in this situation.

a pair of hands dragged you to the nearest alley, leaving no time to scream for help nor fight them as the attacker is way stronger than you. you put up a fight despite the little chances of escaping them as they pressed face against the concrete wall, making you unable to catch a glimpse of their face.

“w-what are you doing?”it’s a terrible decision to be talk the person who will probably kill you, but what option do you have? “leave me alone! i won’t tell anyone about this!”

then you hear *him* laughing and the familiar tone rang inside your head, it’s *the man*. the one who couldn’t respect your boundaries back when you were serving and the very same one who will be the reason of your death. your body tense up when his hands go through under your black shirt, trying to stay calm and to avoid any extra trouble from him.

you can feel the man breathing behind your back, getting too comfortable for your own good with his hands exploring the fabrics covering your body. if you don’t attack him now, then you won’t have another chance before things gets worse. before doing anything that could end with your life, you take a deep breath and let your instincts take the control of your body.

between the hands going through your clothing, ready to unzip the jacket away from your body, a small loophole in the man’s oversized confidence let you struggle against his arms and to finally get away from him, then slapping him on the face without hesitation. the loud bang from your action echoed through the alley, shattering the silence for a split second. then, before you could fully comprehend had happened, your body began moving on its own.

you didn’t stop running, not until you were blocks away from that alley, far from the dangerous man you hoped was still there. deep inside, you know he isn’t there anymore, that he is probably chasing you down and that is why you feel so helpless to go back home.

the tiredness is begging you to go back to the small apartment you live and share with the stray cat that comes around, but that would be the stupidest decision to do. the man is out there, ready to attack you at any moment and since he attacked in your way home, then he must know where you live.

it’s horrible that you can’t go back to your safe space to pretend that nothing happened and even more terrifying is that you realize that you aren’t in the streets anymore, rather you find yourself in front of a receptionist who handles a key to the room you’ve just rented for the night. her voice is almost unheard by you, but seeing how expression of worryingly on her face and her lips moved, she had asked if you are alright as you are standing in front of the balcony for more than you should.

“just tired, nothing special.” you managed to reply, gathering yourself to walk deep inside the hotel to find the room for tonight. “goodnight.”

stepping away from the balcony, you heard the receptionist telling you to rest well for the night which makes you feel a bit better than before, isn’t always that a stranger shows to care about an individual she knows nothing nor will ever see again. who couldn’t think that a simple interaction like this could make you feel more relaxed?

once you entered the room for the night, you locked the door and the windows, double checking to make sure that every way of entering is blocked from inside. even placing one of the chairs at the entrance to prevent anyone who has the key to enter, the chances of the man stealing the master key is low, but not zero.

after checking the windows and door is closed for tonight, you took off your shoes and layer down the bed and stared at the ceiling. the boring bulb up there is quickly turned off when you feel like you’re ready to sleep. with tiredness taking over, you fall asleep.

you left the hotel in early morning. before the breakfast was served to the guests, but not earlier enough to avoid the receptionist who smiled and told you to visit always, even offering discounts if you stayed more than two days. a lovely lady, but you don’t wish to see her face anymore.

walking around the city to distract yourself, you decided to call work and asked if you could take a day or a week off to resolve ‘personal issues’ with family. as much you need to work to pay for the rent and basic things, you need to stay away from the bakery to make the man gives up on you or at least to give yourself a break from everything.

“sorry, mr. [l.name].” the voice on the phone sounded apathetic, but you had hope for a better ending. “but we can’t give you advanced vacation as some of the waiters were diagnosed with common cold in the last few weeks, so you have to come in the morning shift as well. but we can give you a rise on your salary though!”

damn it.

why is everything going against you? you were almost sexually assaulted yesterday night and you don’t have any option than going back to work at the place where you met him. things are getting worse by every second goes by, you desperately need to fix your life. but with little money in your pocket and no one to support your mental state, you have to go work.

to a bright side, there was no sign of the man inside the bakery nor has anyone dared to bother you during the morning shift. possible due to the lack of that usual smile on your face, instead a tired and anxious appearance takes over you, forcing you to wear a mask to continue to serve the clients. the excuse being that you are recovering from a common cold.

after long hours of working and trying to remain positive that nothing would go wrong, you are finally ready to leave. well, you were, until a last minute customer came in and asked to be served by you, specifically. you are exhausted, but you attempt to keep a pride appearance to serve that customer. even though, you secretly wish that a lightning would strike on him for being so stupid to come over when the bakery is almost closing for he night.

slowly, you approach the table. “good night. what can i do for you tonight?” if any of your coworkers heard you speak like this, they would definitely snitch to the owners about your ‘lacking professionalism’. “there is promotion if you order a slice of cake with any of the drinks of the menu. it would be only cost twelve bucks.”

the menu hid the face of the individual who remained in silence, not bothering to answer your questions. instead, they held the piece of paper closer to their face, one hand signaling for you to come closer. being a little bit curious, you moved closer to them, wanting to know more.

step by step, you approach the mysterious customer to find someone familiar smiling at you. it’s the man. this time his face carries an eyepatch on the left eye with a small cut under his lips, the result from the past encounter between you and him.

your heart almost stop beating when he grabs your hand, preventing you from stepping away from him. with the tiredness controlling your body, there is no chance that you can escape him nor you dare do with the few coworkers still around the bakery, you won’t want to make a scene to everyone to see.

“well, i think you should serve me with that promotion of yours.” he caresses your hand, not bothering if that makes you uncomfortable. “and your bosses told me that since i am an extremely value customer, they let me order for anything this place can offer. include you, [name].”

hearing him saying your name is horrible, it reminds you of a snake killing a prey after spending so long tormenting the animal. and as you know, you are the prey in the situation, incapable of doing anything than submitting to your fate.

the man gestures you to sit down next to him and you obey his commands, not bothering when he removes the mask from your face. the dark bags growing on your eyes and lack of energy is noticeable by him, yet he still admires that you are finally under his control as he always wanted.

“good boy.” he said. “i can already imagine the many things we need to do together after tonight. but first, let’s enjoy our time together in this beautiful bakery as you won’t need to return to work anymore.”

@moonit3 . don’t repost it, don’t modify it, don’t plagiarize, translate it without my permission.

[theotherbuckley]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday 😘

Here's some more of my bucktommy 10 + 1 pet names fic. It's currently exam season so I haven't had much time to write (also if you sent in ask prompts for writing and drawing for my 1K celebration I swear I'm getting to it, just after exams probably). Anyway here's a snippet of the boys attempting Muay Thai and getting a lil side tracked.

Tagged by @perfectlysunny02 <3 (also thanks for everyones tags through out the week)

They start out with light hits, mostly just teasing each other, barely putting any force into it. It’s back and forth for a bit, hit retreat, hit retreat, neither doing any damage. Tommy goes in for a harder knock, bringing his arm to Buck’s face, but he’s quick to dodge. “That all you got, cupcake?” Buck smirks, cocky. Tommy tilts his head at him, a dark glint forming in his eye. He smiles. That's all the warning Buck gets. Tommy raises his leg to Buck’s waist as he moves forward. The kick causes Buck to stumble, but he recovers, returning with a kick of his own to Tommy’s thigh, grateful for his long legs. Tommy doesn’t seem fazed, barely moving an inch from where he stands. Fucking tank. Buck pouts, his boyfriend is too big for his own good. In any other scenario, it is the best thing ever, but here, Buck can’t get over how built he is — it’s not fair.  “Come on, sweetheart. I taught you better than this,” Tommy says, trying to evoke a reaction. It works. Buck rushes forward, raising his hand to Tommy’s face, but Tommy’s faster, blocking the action and hitting right back. Buck doesn’t give up, he keeps moving into Tommy, hitting him, his elbow catching on Tommy’s shoulder hard enough to make him falter. Tommy just smiles at him, grinning wide. “That was good,” he admits, nodding in approval. Buck wipes the sweat from his forehead, moving back into position, jumping on his feet. “Come on, give it to me, hot stuff.” “That name’s not actually bad,” Tommy says. “Yeah?” Buck asks, guard dropping momentarily. It’s all Tommy needs. He seizes the moment raising his arm and pushing at Buck’s shoulder, causing him to stumble. Buck doesn’t have a chance to right himself before Tommy’s lifting his leg, hooking it under Buck’s. Buck lets out a little “oomf” as his back hits the ground, wind momentarily knocked out of him.  Tommy just smirks from him above, leaning over so that his hand rests next to Buck’s face. “Ready to tap out?” Tommy says, eyes flicking to Buck’s lips and back to his eyes. Buck blushes at their closeness, but ever stubborn he doesn’t give in. “Never,” he whispers, wrapping his leg around Tommy’s torso and flipping them so that Tommy’s now on his back. Tommy’s pupils widen, and he lets out a breathless “Fuck.”

Tags:

@bidisasterevankinard @fortheloveofbuddie @jeeyuns @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @eowon @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars @evanbegins @diazsdimples @wikiangela @bucksbirthmark  @underwaterninja13 @daffi-990 @aspecbuddie @bucks-daddy-issues @tizniz @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway @hippolotamus @incorrect9-1-1 @buckdefencesquad @actualalligator @actuallyitsellie @dangerpronebuddie @babybibuck @exhuastedpigeon @perfectlysunny02 @buddieswhvre @loserdiaz @rogerzsteven @bucksbignaturals @smallandalmosthonest @spotsandsocks @evanbi-ckley @inell (please let me know if you want to be added or removed from this tag list I know bucktommy isn’t everyone’s thing)

[blingblong55]

Silent allies- Simon "Ghost" Riley

Based on a request: Hiii I hope you're doing well Could you write a fic where the task force gets to know about a lab where makarov is making a huge weapon, they believe it's a nuclear weapon or something like that but when they reach the lab they see a huge metal room and inside, a woman. Probably in her 20s, bruised and chained and shock collar around her neck and all. They rescued her, brought her for questioning and found out she's the experiment and she has powers like enhanced strength durability stamina and energy production and manipulation telekinesis telepathy and blood manipulation. They recruit her thinking she'll be a useful addition to the team and she's very powerful, as they see her on the field. Then simon and her form a connection and they find solace in each other's trauma. ---- F!Reader, superhuman!au, romance?, fluff?(lets not trust these two tags) ----

A/N: I think I got carried away...so...yeah

The helicopter blades cut through the thick night air as Task Force 141 approached their target: a remote lab deep in the Ural Mountains. The mission brief had been grim—Intel suggested Makarov was developing a catastrophic weapon. Nuclear, perhaps. They couldn't let that stand. With Captain Price's gruff voice crackling over the comms, the team moved with the precision and lethality they were known for. "Approaching LZ," Soap announced, his voice thick with anticipation.

This was Soap's opportunity to finally end the name Vladimir Makarov.

"Remember, lads," Price said, "we're in and out. Neutralize the target, get the intel, and get out. Simple." Ghost exchanged glances with his teammates. His skull-patterned balaclava barely concealed the cold determination in his eyes. Ghost was a man of few words, but his presence was a comforting constant in the chaos of war. The lab loomed ahead, a dark, angular shadow against the snowy landscape. As the helicopter landed, the team disembarked, weapons at the ready.

The night was silent save for the crunch of their boots on the snow and the distant howl of the wind. "Alright, let's move," Price ordered, and the team advanced. They breached the lab's perimeter with practised ease.

Inside, the corridors were sterile and dimly lit, the air thick with the hum of machinery. Moving swiftly and silently, they cleared room after room, encountering minimal resistance. It was almost too easy. "Something's not right," Gaz muttered, voicing the unease they all felt. At the end of a long hallway, they found it—a massive metal door, more secure than any they’d encountered so far. Price signalled for a breach. With a deafening blast, they forced their way in, weapons raised. What they found inside made them freeze. The room was vast and industrial, filled with complex machinery and computer banks. But their eyes were drawn to the centre of the room, where a large glass chamber stood.

Inside was you—bruised and battered, chained to the floor with a shock collar around your neck. “Bloody hell,” Soap whispered, horror and anger lacing his voice. Ghost moved forward, his eyes locked on you. You looked up, and despite your condition, your eyes were defiant. This was no ordinary prisoner. “Price, we need to get her out of here,” Ghost said, urgency in his voice. Price nodded. "Ghost, Gaz, cover us. Soap, see if you can disable that collar." Gaz worked quickly, and with a few deft movements, the collar fell away.

Ghost gently lifted you, your body light and frail in his arms. You flinched at the contact but didn't resist. As he carried you out, the rest of the team provided cover, their weapons barking in the darkness as more of Makarov's men converged on your position. You made it back to the helicopter under a hail of gunfire. Once inside, you collapsed onto a stretcher, your breathing shallow but steady.

They secured you, minds racing with questions. Who were you? What had Makarov done to you? Back at the safehouse, the atmosphere was tense. You had been stabilized and were resting, but they all knew the real work was just beginning. As they gathered in the briefing room, Price addressed the team. Laswell had given Price your file. A subject stolen from a testing lab was easy to find the name of because of the serial number on your neck. “We need answers,” he said. “Y/N is our best lead. We’ve seen what Makarov is capable of, and we can’t afford any surprises.” Ghost had been quiet since the rescue, his eyes never straying far from where you were being held.

There was a connection there, a silent understanding that went beyond words. The interrogation room was cold and clinical, a stark contrast to the warmth they tried to project. You sat across from Ghost, your eyes wary but no longer filled with fear. “Y/N,” Ghost began softly, “we’re here to help. Can you tell us what Makarov was doing to you?” You hesitated, your eyes flicking to the door where Ghost stood guard. Finally, you spoke, your voice a whisper. “I was… an experiment. He wanted to create a weapon. Not a bomb, but a person.”

The room went silent. Ghost leaned forward. “What kind of weapon?” Your eyes met his, and he saw the pain and power within them. “Me. I have… abilities. Enhanced strength, durability, and stamina. I can manipulate energy, and use telekinesis, and telepathy. Even control blood.” The gravity of your words sank in. Makarov hadn’t been building a weapon; he’d been creating one. And now you were sitting in front of them, a living testament to his twisted ambitions.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” Ghost’s voice cut through the silence, gentle but firm. You looked at him, a flicker of something passing between you. “I did. But he had ways of controlling me. The collar… it wasn’t just to shock me. It suppressed my abilities.” Ghost exchanged a glance with Price. This changed everything. “Y/N,” Price said, “we want to help you. We could use someone with your skills. But we need to know if you’re willing to fight with us.” You looked around the room, your eyes lingering on each of them before settling on Ghost. “I’ll fight. Not just for me, but for everyone Makarov has hurt. He needs to be stopped.” From that day on, you became part of Task Force 141.

Training with them was intense—your abilities were unlike anything they’d ever encountered. You could lift vehicles with your mind, and heal wounds with a touch, and your combat skills were unparalleled. On the battlefield, you were a force of nature, your powers turning the tide of many engagements. But it was your connection with Ghost that truly stood out. You spent hours together, often in silence, yet there was an unspoken bond between you. Both of you carried scars from your pasts, both had seen and endured more than anyone should.

You found solace in each other’s presence, a quiet understanding that needed no words. One night, after a particularly brutal mission, you found yourselves on the rooftop of the safe house. The night was clear, stars scattered across the sky. You were sitting on the edge, your legs dangling over the side, while Ghost stood beside you, his mask pulled up just enough to reveal his mouth. Ghost approached quietly, not wanting to intrude. But you noticed him and gave a small smile.

“Hey,” you said softly. “Hey,” he replied, leaning against the railing. “You alright?” You nodded, “Just needed some fresh air.” Ghost’s eyes were distant, his mind clearly on something else. “I never thought I’d be here,” you said after a moment. “Fighting alongside people who care.” Ghost placed a hand on your shoulder. “You’re part of the team now. We’ve got your back.” You looked at him, gratitude shining in your eyes. “Thank you. All of you.” Ghost’s hand found yours, a rare gesture of comfort.

The two of you stood there, the night wrapping around you like a cloak. At that moment, despite the darkness and the war raging around you, there was a sense of peace. You weren’t just soldiers; you were a family…a messed up, military, full of badass soldiers with dark backgrounds kind of family.

Over the following months, your integration into the team was seamless. Missions that seemed impossible were now within reach thanks to your abilities. Whether it was breaching heavily fortified compounds or extracting high-value targets, your skills made the difference. During one mission deep in enemy territory, you found yourselves pinned down by heavy fire. The situation was dire, and retreat seemed like the only option. But you had other plans.

“Stay behind me,” you ordered, your voice steady despite the chaos. With a wave of your hand, an invisible force field sprung up, deflecting bullets and giving the team the cover they needed to advance. You moved with purpose, your powers creating a path through the enemy's defences. It was awe-inspiring and terrifying all at once. Ghost stayed close to you, his skills complementing yours. You worked in perfect harmony, a deadly duo that left the enemy scrambling.

By the end of the mission, the objective was secured, and you all made it back in one piece. Back at the base, as the adrenaline wore off, you noticed Ghost watching you. He had a soft spot for you, and it was clear you drew strength from each other. One evening, as you sat around a campfire, Ghost finally opened up about his past. His voice was low, the crackling fire casting shadows across his face.

“I lost everyone I cared about,” he said, his eyes fixed on the flames. “My family…friends. All gone. I thought I’d never find that kind of connection again.” You reached out, your hand covering his. “You have us now,” you said softly. “You have me.” He looked at you, the pain in his eyes softening. “I know. And I’m grateful for that every day.” In the quiet moments between missions, you found yourselves together often. You found solace in each other’s company, healing the wounds that ran deep. It was a slow process, but with each passing day, the scars seemed a little less painful.

Then came the day of the final assault on Makarov’s stronghold. The mission was clear—take him down and end his reign of terror. The stakes had never been higher. As you prepared, you approached Ghost, determination etched on your face. “This ends today,” you said. He nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a fierce intensity. “Together.” The final assault was brutal. The stronghold was heavily defended, and every step forward was hard-fought.

In the end, it was a combination of your powers and Ghost’s precision that brought Makarov to his knees. As the dust settled, you stood over him, the weight of your journey crashing down on you. It was over. Back at the safehouse, there was a sense of relief but also a lingering sadness. You and Ghost stood together, looking out over the horizon. “We did it,” you said softly. “Yeah,” Ghost replied. “We did.” You turned to him, your eyes reflecting the shared pain and hope. “Thank you, Simon. For everything.” He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his touch a balm for your wounded soul. “Thank you, Y/N. For giving me something to fight for.” In each other’s arms, you found the peace you had long sought. Together, you were stronger. Together, you were home.

It's a funny feeling to have found a home in the arms that once rescued from a cage.

Tags: @liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @night-mare-owl-79 @saoirse06 @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza

[steviewashere]

Welcome Home

Rating: Teen and Up Pairing: Steve Harrington & Wayne Munson, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson CW: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse (Not Graphic But Prevalent), Referenced Period Typical Homophobic Slur(s), Referenced Drug Use (Recreational Use of Marijuana) Tags: Post-Canon, Post Vecna, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Wayne Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Wayne Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington has Bad Parents, Coming Out, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Gets a Hug, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Al Munson is a Bad Person

Read the content warning!!

🫂—————🫂 He knows the person he wants isn’t home. But Steve can’t afford to stall any longer. If he continues to wait out in his car, it’ll probably be towed, and he’ll be arrested, and he won’t have the person he needs to bail him out. It’s not like he can just turn the car around, though; make his way back home.

Home doesn’t even exist anymore. It took one night where he thought he was alone, because he was always alone, for them to come back and see him. See him with another boy. Not experimenting, because he knows damn well who he is. But making semblance of love, because he’s been desperate enough for it his entire like. Now that he had it, or something as close to it as he can get from a late night cruising pull, it’s even farther away.

Yeah, maybe he should’ve rain checked. Maybe he should’ve bought out a motel room for the night. Maybe he should’ve just entertained himself with his own hand and the wrinkled magazines that Eddie smuggled for him.

Speaking of Eddie, he’s not here. His government replaced van isn’t parked outside the new Munson’s trailer. Only Wayne’s is. And he’s not sure if he’s ready to face another adult. He is an adult, he knows this, but sitting behind the big wheel of his car—his hands look like they belong to a child and looking at himself in the rearview mirror, it’s like matching gazes with ten year old him; wide-eyed, afraid, and forced against his will.

He is afraid. And maybe he should just let himself feel that. But he doesn’t have the time or the energy or the gall. So he shuts his engine off, hauls an old duffel bag over his shoulder, and makes the arduous journey that is the thirty second walk up the front steps.

Knocking, he swallows his pride. Every part of him is lost and disorganized. He didn’t style his hair. And he couldn’t grab his belt from where it had been kicked under his bed in panic. His shoes are untied. There’s also a large hickey at the base of his neck, unhidden by the stretched collar of some ratty maroon t-shirt he thought he tossed years ago. It’s stark against him in the reflection of the nearest window. He can also catch the dark bruises left on his biceps—grabbed by his dad when he tried to make an initial escape. Maybe he should’ve risked the arrest.

The doors open rather quickly, though. And through the screen, a plume of smoke pools over him from—what smells like—a stale joint. Wayne Munson stands on the other side with tired eyes and a pinched mouth. He’s dressed down in flannel pajamas and has that joint between his fingers. All his movements are slow as he takes Steve in.

“Eddie’s not home right now,” he states instead of offering a greeting. “Is there something I can do you for?” His eyes dip low from Steve’s. Following down the stretch of his neck, where it’s tense and rigid, over that hickey. Pauses momentarily. And then continues to look around, over, down—right up until he notes the bruises on Steve’s arms. “You…Uh…You making a runaway from a bad date, kid?”

Steve swallows. It stings a bit, though not from the hickey. When he closes his eyes to gather his words, he can almost feel the hand around his throat—the wedding ring cold over his wanted bruise, but the red hot spray of spit over his forehead. All as he cowered against his bedroom wall, tense to the floor he stood on, praying that his dad would make it quick.

He’s shaking, he knows. Trembling something minute that, hopefully, Wayne won’t pick up on. “Good evening, Mr. Munson,” Steve greets quietly, voice quaking. “I—I’m sorry to intrude, but I don’t know…There’s nowhere else I can go right now.” He peels his eyes open and peeks up through the screen door. Wayne’s eyes are the size of saucers when they lock stares. He hefts the bag over his shoulder higher, there’s a warm ache through his upper back. Slammed against the wall; remember, he reminds himself.

The screen opens wide and Wayne gestures over to the couch. “Leave your stuff by the door, kid.”

He steps through, plops his bag by the small breakfast nook, and chucks his sneakers to mingle with the pile. Then, he just stands in the doorway. Wayne’s off of his right shoulder. Towering over him a bit, but warm and solid. Steve knows he doesn’t have to be afraid, yet something in him skitters when Wayne’s left hand rests gently on his lower back. “Have a seat,” Wayne murmurs, “you’re shaking like a leaf.”

Acknowledging, without words to say, Steve nods. He shuffles over to the sofa and sits on the farthest cushion on the right, where he tends to settle when he comes over.

“You eat?” Wayne asks.

“No,” Steve mutters, “my dad didn’t give me enough time.”

“You like pepperoni on your pizza?”

Steve nods. “Anything except mushrooms, sir.”

“Wayne,” he says softly over his shoulder, “that’s my name and you wear it out all you like. I ain’t your daddy.” Steve just grunts in response, watching warily as Wayne orders them some food.

When he’s done, Wayne faces him again, leaning against the edge of the dining table. His joint has long since been put out, resting warm in the ashtray on the same table. Steve leans forward on his cushion, hands dropped between his knees. His hair falls limp in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t care. Nothing matters now, does it?

“I’ll only be here a night, promise.” His shoulders hunch inwards. That ache back and persistent. And he knows wherever he sleeps, be it on the floor or the sofa or even in the grass outside, he’ll just wake up hurt. More than just physically. “I know that there really isn’t space for me here and I…I don’t know. I’m not expecting you to take me in just because I get myself in messes.”

For a moment, the room stretches with silence. Going diagonal with the former words.

Then, Wayne takes a deep breath. Shuffles over to a dining chair. And plops down, watching. “You mind telling me what happened?” He asks gruffly, though not pessimistically. “If you’re in trouble, I can only let you stay here a night.”

“Depends on what you view as trouble, Wayne.”

Wayne narrows his eyes, twisting his mouth. His left hand rests on the surface of the table, fingers stretched towards the ashtray and the discarded lighter next to it. “Illegal shit. Anything that gets you in trouble with that Powell bastard. Not including weed. That’d make me a hypocrite, and that’s one thing I ain’t.”

Again, Steve nods his agreement, the acknowledgement. He fidgets with the tips of his fingers. Nails digging into the fatty parts, turning them white with pressure. “I didn’t do anything illegal, swear. Just did something stupid.” Warily once more, he eyes Wayne. “How do you feel about Reagan?”

“That man can rot in hell for all I care.”

He chuckles, despite everything. Then, he takes a sobering breath. “I had a…I picked up a boy tonight. Because I wanted to have—We were going to have sex, to put it simply, Mr. Munson. And I took him to my room, thinking I’d be alone for the rest of the night…”

“And you weren’t,” Wayne states, not asking. What questions need to be asked to an admittance like that? Steve nods, mouth pinched and eyes shiny. “I’m guessing your folks came home.”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers just loud enough to be heard. “I must’ve made a…noise loud enough to be heard downstairs. And my dad had just come home. And he…maybe the boy also made a noise, I don’t know. But one thing came after the other, and the next thing I knew my dad had gripped me on my arms and threw me against the wall and I thought he was going to kill me dead right in my own room and he was spitting about…he called me a-a fag and a fairy and I…

“I didn’t fight back. I didn’t speak. I was so scared. I am scared, Wayne,” Steve admits, voice trembling and his nose burning. “All I could do was take it.”

Carefully, Wayne extracts himself from his seat and situates himself on the coffee table. Right in front of Steve. “Where all did he hurt you, Steve?”

He swallows, remembering. “My arms,” he mutters, pointing, “and my neck and…he dropped me down on the ground and while I was reaching for my shirt, he got me on the ribs.” Narrowly, he misses Wayne’s furious gaze. Instead, he finds a shiny blank spot between mugs on the far wall. “He was so furious he didn’t even take his dress shoes off by the door,” he meekly states, “and he didn’t stop until my mom screamed at him to at least let me grab some of my stuff. She told him it wouldn’t be worth it, and I quote, ‘to murder our son.’ He told her that I wasn’t his, but he let me leave.” 

He’ll never thank his mom for that, but at least she granted him grace. Though, she didn’t look pleased either. Her face set and jaw clenched. He knows that if she had the chance, when he wasn’t in earshot, she would’ve said the exact same thing as his dad. Steve withers further at the thought, if that’s even possible.

“I’m just lucky that I’m not dead, right?” He adds a moment later, face wet with tears and throat thick with grief.

Wayne sharply inhales. “You’re safe here,” he says lowly, “just as Eddie is. You’ll forever be safe here, I promise you that.”

Steve’s eyes cut back to him. That ferocity in his gaze like a warm blanket over Steve’s shoulders, something he can cling onto and believe. “You know about him?”

“You’re not the first kid to run here from their daddy,” Wayne utters.

Something in Steve’s stomach twists slowly. His chest crackling with those words. Remembers when Eddie Munson was out of school for a week in eighth grade. When he came back: long sleeves in late May, hair shaved close to his scalp, heavy eyes, and new silver scars over his knuckles.

“I’m not…”

“Eddie would never cut his hair voluntarily,” Wayne states, voice grim.

Steve looks down at his lap, fingers picking nervously at each other. He murmurs, “I’m safe here,” but more of a reminder to himself. He’s not sure if he’s had a promised safety in years. All the stuff with Vecna and the Upside Down and now his dad—which never started with tonight; it had been growing to that, always something small like a slap to the wrist or a dull smack to the back of his head, but his life had never been almost choked out of him. He never feared, just always worried.

God, he always worried. And now here he is, trembling with his tail between his legs.

The silence stretches between them after that. Wayne gets up at some point to pay for the pizza, gather a couple plates, even relight his half-gone joint. And in the time it takes him to sit back down on the sofa with the food, Eddie comes back.

He tumbles through the door, a thousand words spilling out of him, coat hanging off of his elbows, and one shoe already stepped out of. He’s a whirlwind of movement and thing after another after another. But then he spots them on the couch; Wayne eating slowly and Steve curled nervously, face turned away from the door. “Aw man,” Eddie drawls. “Sharing pizza and weed without me? You guys always have all the fun when I’m not here.”

“Ed,” Wayne mutters, “we need to have a conversation, alright?”

Steve peers over, just as Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Did I…Is it something I did?” Eddie murmurs, voice falling meek. “Is everything okay?”

He can’t help but try to hide further. Flinching into himself, eyes closing on their own accord, cheeks flushed, and lips trembling. Tries to pinch the bridge of his nose, but he’s already opened the waterworks once tonight—they’re not going to close up again just from this. He looks to Wayne, eyes pleading for him to explain. He’s so tired of having to digest this, let alone regurgitate it.

“Come sit in my chair, Ed,” Wayne says, gesturing to the brown chair near the window. He waits until Eddie does what he’s told, sitting slowly and looking at them with his too big, concerned eyes. His eyebrows raise, even Steve can make that out through his blurry vision, waiting for some sort of explanation. “Okay, I need you to listen and not ask questions. No interruptions unless I ask you to respond, you got that?”

“Wh—Yeah, Wayne. I’m all ears; you’re freaking me out.”

Wayne nods gently, his left hand out in a placating manner. “You remember, I mean you most definitely do, but do you remember when you had to come here all those years ago?” He asks softly. Eddie acknowledges by nodding, nothing more. “Steve is going through something similar,” he explains gently, “and I’m letting him stay. If you want to know the specifics, that’s something that you’ll have to hear when Steve’s ready, got it?”

Eddie inhales slowly. His face gaining that same furious ferocity that Wayne’s had. But then he looks to Steve and all the hard features of his face soften. Back to something familiar and warm and homely. “Stevie?” He ventures. “You okay?”

He shrugs. Answers thickly, “I don’t know.” His cheeks wet with more tears and he roughly wipes them away with a shaking hand. “I don’t…I thought they loved me? Even just a little bit.”

Warmth crowds him as Wayne lays a firm arm over his upper back, hand wrapping around his right shoulder, just missing his bicep. “Eddie? Why don’t you clean up a bit in your room for his stuff? Get some new sheets on your mattress, too. Think he could use a sleepover, that alright?”

“Course,” Eddie answers almost instantly, voice soft and calm. “I’ll set out some pajamas, too, Stevie. You want a sweatshirt or a t-shirt?”

Steve sniffs and swallows heavily. “Sweatshirt, please.” 

Slowly and carefully, Eddie comes over towards the couch. He places a gentle hand on the back of Steve’s head. Thumb running up and down at the base of his skull. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “we’ve got you now, though.” And with that, Eddie retreats to his bedroom, the door clicking softly behind him. The rustle of things being moved around ever apparent through the thin wood.

Wayne clears his throat and pulls Steve in a little closer, tighter. He says close to Steve’s ear, “We love you here, you got that? You have no reason to hide yourself or sneak around or try and fit yourself in a box.”

He nods minutely. “M’kay,” he mutters, “I’ll try and find another place soon, I promise. I just don’t have the money—“

“Nonsense,” Wayne states steadfast, “this is your home now. And I won’t have it any other way.” He pulls back just enough to make them lock eyes again. The air smells of grease and weed and Irish Spring. Amber light flooding around them and dim enough to not hurt his head. Everything around him is soft, gentle. It feels like home. Wayne holds him by the shoulders, firm but not suffocating. “Don’t tell Eddie I said this,” he whispers, “but he doesn’t shut up about you. He’d kill me if I didn’t let you stay and I’d beat myself up about it. As long as you stay true and playful with my boy, then you’re my boy, too. You hear me?”

Steve’s eyes blur again and his nose stings and he wishes that he could stop crying, but this is nice. The warmth and the love and the tenderness. He could burn alive from it and still be grateful. It’s so much better than the lonely, cold sprawl of his parents’ house. A house he never thought he’d leave.

“I hear you,” he musters.

“Good,” Wayne murmurs. “Why don’t you go use up some of the hot water and take as long of a shower as you want? I’ll get your things into Eddie’s room and—don’t tell that Powell bastard at the station—but I’ll roll something for you, if you want it.”

Despite everything, Steve finds himself laughing from his belly and smiling enough to ache his cheeks. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees. “Warning, though, I’m really annoying when I’m high.”

“Then annoying you’ll be,” Wayne gets out around a chuckle. “And keep smiling, boy. You ain’t got a thing to worry or fear here. Even if your daddy comes running on over, I’ll make him leave just as fast with his tail between his legs, swear it.”

His smile relaxes to something soft, a ghost of a thing. He leans forward and hesitantly wraps his arms around Wayne, relishing in the hug that he gets in return. “Thank you,” he says, muffled into Wayne’s pajama shirt, “think you literally saved my life tonight.”

“You’re a good kid, Steve,” Wayne murmurs, “you’re always welcome in my home.”

He knows he’s crying again, a gentle and silent thing into Wayne’s shoulder. And yet, despite everything, he’s lighter.

Later, he tells Eddie all that happened and is held close, a hand in his hair and fingers tracing over his trembling shoulders. Later, Wayne will make a grand breakfast spread to celebrate new family. And even later, Wayne’ll crack a joke about no funny business while he’s sleeping. But Steve will know, through the tired and playful glint in Wayne’s eyes, he’s all too happy that Steve and Eddie figured themselves out.

For now, though, Wayne hands him a clean, soft towel. It’s dark green and well loved. And he knows, too, that his soul will eventually look just like that. And just like the towel, he soaks it all up. Including the warm, “Welcome home, son,” Wayne says before he closes the bathroom door.

🫂—————🫂

[tizniz]

The negativity is making me not want to read 911 right now. Like I have a few authors that I will still read cause they aren't spreading hate, but other than that, I'm staying away. I've unsubscribed from a couple of people cause they were doing bashing fics, and that wasn't what I wanted. My main ones are you, spots, hoodiebuck, monsterrae, and lozerdiaz for now. If you have any recommendations of authors I could read, I'd appreciate it. I just joined the fandom in August.

Hi anon :)

I can definitely understand where you’re coming from and why you may be pulling back from reading. Totally respect that.

It’s sad though, because it discourages writers (not including myself since you kindly continue to read my stuff) who are not spreading negativity but aren’t getting read because people are pulling back.

This isn’t me telling you what to do though - if you feel like you need to pull back, then definitely do. Your wellbeing is important. Don't let anyone try and tell you otherwise.

I get not wanting to read bashing fics either - I do try and avoid them for the most part, personally. But I will say that if people want to write and post bashing fics, that's totally fine as well, because it's their right (not that I'm saying you are implying people cannot). I myself have posted a Diaz parents bashing fic myself, and will fully support Buckley parent bashing. I just hope those people are tagging appropriately so people like yourself can avoid bashing stories when searching for new stories to read and want to avoid that.

This negativity and toxicity that has been growing lately is one of the sad sides of fandom. Unfortunately, we will never escape it. We learn to shift and adjust who we follow, what we read, and who we support so that we can curate our own happy experience. Not that I think there is a reason for being so negative or toxic. (Honestly, why can people not ship multiple ships??? Jeez.)

But anyways...I'm sorry that you are struggling to find enjoyment in reading. Because as I've said many times before, there is so many wonderful ideas being created for us to enjoy.

The authors you've mentioned are all ones I also read frequently (although there are a few of their stories I haven't read because of the pairing, but that's MY choice to not read and no shame to them - because newsflash to the haters- you do NOT have to read every single story, especially if you don't like it), so well done on your choices.

I'm happy to share some authors that I enjoy reading (I'll format it as Tumblr user // A03 user): @cal-daisies-and-briars // Daisies_and_Briars @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels // letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @princessfbi // princessfbi @eddiebabygirldiaz // Underhung_Aura @theotherbuckley // theotherlucifer @exhuastedpigeon// 42hrb @elvensorceress // elvensorceress @dangerpronebuddie // I_still_dont_understand_13 @daffi-990 // Daffi_990_ao3 @watchyourbuck // tinygiantsam @bigfootsmom // bigfootsmom @devirnis // devirnis @wikiangela // wikiangela These are all people who I actively follow and interact with one some level. I think they are all lovely people on Tumblr and are wonderful authors with amazing ideas. I probably have more I could recommend too, but I did try to stick with more active people. And there are some authors on this list who are leaning heavily towards BuckTommy while others are still going strong with Buddie, so there's a mixture for people's interest in pairings. (I want to mention @hippolotamus & @lemonzestywrites as well -both of whom are working on amazing stuff but have life in the way and are currently unable to be super active with their writing but go read stuff they've posted on their A03 and support them, pelase. And also special special shout out to my lovely @actualalligator because how can I NOT mention Al?) And a few more A03 authors who I'm not certain of their Tumblr are: allisonRW96, justhockey, fleetinghearts, bccalling These are authors who I have been subscribed to since essentially the beginning of my entrance into the fandom and they have never disappointed me with their works.

I'm more than happy to make a post recommending some of the amazing stories I've been indulging in lately too. But this post is plenty long enough as is haha

Thank you for stopping by :)

[secret-sweetheart]

Sampo nsfw headcanons

COME EAT SAMPO FANS I HAVE FOOD!! He needs more in the smut tag (I’m probably saying this cuz im obsessed tho…)

Note: I am a minor writing smut, please do not interact if you aren’t comfortable with that (this includes leaving anything in my ask box or messages).

Content notes: mentions of choking, overstimulation, there’s a lot of kinky shit because it’s Sampo out of all people. This is gender neutral, no mention of reader’s genitals so all homies can read this 🗣️

“Love me up and down, a little bit harder now”

This man’s a tease. A mean one too

He’ll tease you so subtly in public that nobody knows you’re teasing except him, so you have to act calm so people don’t catch what’s happening

Yet when you tease he gets so whiny (as if he doesn’t tease so much 🙄)

He’s a switch if you couldn’t tell

This man’s a SLUT. He has experience and knows how it works

Slept around either for fun or to make sure he gets exactly what he wants in business deals

He’s a bit above average but he isn’t so big it’s scary. He’s a bit on the thinner side but still a bit thick so you’ll feel it

Chill with almost any kinks, his kinks are degrading, praise, overstimulation, edging, brat taming, bondage- he has a list of them

If he’s topping he’s going to be dirty talking so much (QUIT YOUR YAPPING 💀)

He’s teasing you through the whole thing, degrading or praising you- maybe even a mix of both

Also if he has your consent he is into choking you, he likes the power and he does it just right so you can get that nice and pleasant light headed feeling

Feel free to choke him as well! He’s very into the thought of being dominated and choked

Tbh it might turn him on more if you’re smaller compared to him (maybe a bit of a size kink?) if you’re smaller and topping (or just trying to) he’s getting hard a lot quicker. He’ll either give in or switch the roles and fuck you stupid

When you’re topping him he’s shameless with those noises, constantly begging for more and whining, talking about how good it feels and telling you to keep going

It’s your choice to either give him what he wants or make him beg even more. Overstim or edge him, he won’t be fighting back with the position you’re in with him

He’s also very in to toys! He probably managed the staff to give him a discount somehow

If he’s using them on you be prepared to lose your ability to think straight and walk straight

He loves tying you up and using all kinds of toys on you until you’re crying from pleasure, one of his favorite things to do

At this point he doesn’t even need to fuck you to satisfy himself, seeing you whine and beg for his dick instead of the toys almost satisfies him enough

When he finally does agree to fuck you it would make sense for him to put the toys away, right? No. He’s keeping them, he’s gonna use them while he’s fucking you so he can see you get overwhelmed and sensitive

When he’s the bottom it’s a sight to see. Tie him up and use a vibrator on him and you’ll have him moaning so loudly in no time. Or even better- use a dildo on him and let him feel how big it is (if it vibrates you’re going to get a noise complaint from the neighbors so be aware of that)

After all of that he’s pretty good at aftercare! (If he’s awake for it that is)

He’ll carry you into a nice bath and make sure you’re all cleaned up, he’ll join you too and hug you if you’re fine with being touched after

He cleans the sheets and everything, gets some pajamas ready for you too

If he was the sub/bottom, he’s probably going to be too lazy to move and will just cling and whine to you, telling you everything can be cleaned in the morning

I LOVE SAMPO RAHHH

[neoninky]

So today I was binging Bridgerton cuz apparently I’m on a romantic drama spiral 😂 good ol stuffy British romances about rich people and their non-relatable problems 👍

Which has lead me to head canons surrounding a certain group of dashing young men who are basically from a historical drama…

Yes that’s right:

Diasomnia Courtship Head Canons

Featuring Lilia’s three sons (no this is not how I’m going to write them in my story-oh who am I kidding, yes it is 😂)

Tagging peeps for shenanigans: @nuitthegoddess @wysteriadelights @iscarlettappel @foxwitchaine @1ndigowitch @victoria1676

Malleus: The prince and soon-to-be king of Briar Valley, he is naturally expected to find himself a queen and future mother to his heirs. So courtship isn't something that comes as a surprise to him. In fact, it's something he was prepared for since he became old enough to understand what courtship and marriage even were.

For Malleus, this can go one of two ways: 1) if he's being forced to meet and court a some daughter of a noble family that he's not interested in, he'll be…avoidant. In other words, he out poofs away in firefly dust. Once the guards, or Silver and Sebek, OR Lilia, finally hunt him down and force him to show up, Malleus is polite. He goes through all the motions and acts like the perfect gentleman, but anyone who knows him well can see the distant, far-off look of escapism in his eyes.

OR 2) he's not only interested, he is INVESTED. Hoo boy, good luck stopping him from trying to be the only man on this girl's radar. Not only does he perform all the expected etiquette perfectly, Malleus Draconia is the epitome of "down bad". What's her favorite color? Favorite flowers? Does she like music? What's her favorite food??? This man will discover and procure all of it for her faster than lightning. Seven help him if she is (for some reason) not impressed, he'll be crushed. Seven help him if she is impressed and - dare it be so - shows appreciation and affection in return. Smitten doesn't even skim the surface, oof. Malleus Draconia needs to marry her now. His crew will have their hands full trying to help the love-struck royal not come on too strong (too late probably) or rush things too quickly. Either way, once his mind is made up, Malleus only has eyes for his queen.

Silver: Being a human raised primarily around fae folk or even half-fae folk, Silver is familiar with the range of courting rituals that various fae have performed over the years. Human courtship, on the other hand, well…he's a bit lost if not old-fashioned in that department. Mostly because of his lack of human interaction, but also because his father is Lilia. Self explanatory. He doesn't have a preference on fae women vs human/other women, though he understands that fae live far longer than humans so that might complicate things. Regardless, Silver is clumsy when wooing women (or anyone he might be interested in). He has the heart of the very best-boi boy but he can be a bit shy with showing/voicing his feelings at first.

The majority of his life has been dedicated to becoming a worthy knight for Malleus, though his school days allowed him some leisure and fun in between his training. Even so, Silver's bravery and tenacity in battle doesn't translate into romance. In fact, he often suffers from cold feet when faced with a potential crush/love interest. Silver logically knows certain things he can do to show his affection on paper. In action, however, he may need some help practice. Don't even get him started on the anxiety his sleep condition brings him. He gets so nervous about suddenly passing out in front of the girl he wants to romance that it will sometimes make him literally sick (poor guy). Once he FINALLY gets over his nerves and takes action, Silver can make his feelings known. It may be awkward but you won't find another more genuine confession from a guy who looked like he walked out of a fairy tale. Also don't be surprised if an army of woodland creatures was recruited to help out.

If rejected, Silver is nothing if not a man of honor. He sees no point in hounding a woman who isn't interested in him, no matter how much it hurts. If his feelings are reciprocated, the poor man might pass out from joy. If he prepares correctly, Silver drinks enough coffee to keep that from happening. Silver will then exhale in immense relief ask his beloved for an even more romantic date, which he spent at least three days planning out with the help of the other Diasomnia bois. Victory achieved.

Sebek: While Malleus is enthusiastic and full throttle and Silver is charmingly shy/awkward and slow to act, Sebek is somewhere in the middle. This man is and always has been very disciplined in all endeavors. For him, romance will be no different. Sebek Zigvolt has trained since childhood to be Malleus' knight. This is his greatest goal and ambition. Someday his lord will marry and have children, precious little princes and princesses! Naturally, their security and well-being are Sebek's top priority!! As such romance has been put on the back burner through the majority of Sebek's teen years.

Once Sebek sets his sights on courtship and romance, he will not settle for just anyone, no sir. He is a man with taste and standards. You know those girls who write down the traits of their ideal husbands in a list? Sebek is the male equivalent of that. It's not as shallow as it sounds, Sebek just knows what he wants. Granted he started the list when he was about 14 years old cough, so some things do change as he matures. Even so, Sebek is - like Silver - old-fashioned in romance. He knows all the moves: bringing her flowers on the first date, taking her on romantic moonlit walks while also respecting her boundaries and fighting off any hooligans that may threaten her dignity, getting her father's approval, the whole nine yards!

And boy is he prepared. He's actually quite proud - if not smug - of how much research he's put into properly courting a lady. His grandfather made sure to leave books out for him when he was young so of course he grew into an avid reader. Definitely learned a thing or two from romance novels but will not admit it out loud.

Either way, once Sebek finds his dream girl, he already has a strategy all mapped out. If one plan doesn't work, he's got backup plans. If things are going well, Sebek will not rush the courtship, but he will absolutely have the proposal and the wedding (hell, probably the honeymoon too dayum) all planned out in his head. If he somehow misses a detail, his mother and older sister will have at least five to ten different options at the ready to offer him and his lady love.

If for some reason Sebek's affections are rejected, he will put on a strong front…until he gets home/back to Malleus's castle and then he'll just fall to pieces. He's gonna need a grieving period, bless his heart. He will more than likely be a complete wreck until he gets the heartache completely out of his system.

If all goes well and Sebek does successfully get with his dream lady love, pssssh well OF COURSE he did! Was there ever any doubt?! Foolish humans, of course not! (Lies, Sebek definitely has moments of doubt that he covers up with loud outbursts and vigorous training to the point of exhaustion. Thank Seven that it did work out though, whew.)

BONUS:

Chaos ensues any time Lilia tries to make a meal to welcome his new 'daughters' to the family. The boys immediately go into covert ops to stop him from getting into the kitchen, sometimes asking their girlfriends/wives to help distract him or getting Lilia started on a story tangent about his travels, his glory days as a general, anything to keep him talking.

[jasntodds]

Penance [2]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 8,134

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, some canon violence

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 hope you guys like this chapter!! It's just the beginning of what's to come!! lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

By the time the next day rolls around, Jason still doesn’t know Dick has asked you to help out. He thinks it’s just him which does have him wondering why Dick didn't ask you. It seems a bit odd given your whole friendship with Tim anyway but he chalks it up to maybe you being busy. Molly mentioned you were working on a case that kept you pretty busy. Maybe you've just been preoccupied with that to actually help. Jason isn’t sure and he isn’t entirely sure why it matters. It doesn’t. It shouldn't.

Jason gets ready to go find Tim. Dick sent him the time Tim should be arriving in Gotham with the specific instructions Dick gave Tim. Jason thinks about how if only Tim knew how lucky he was that Jason is going to be there. Tim has almost no training at all and Dick has basically thrown him to the wolves, or so Tim will think. And Jason can’t help but even feel a little excited over this whole thing. The last time he saw Tim, he was lying on the ground dying. Because of him. This is how he can start to repay Tim for the damage he caused him and his family. It is the least he could possibly do. Tim might not like him after, but he will be prepared and he will be a good Robin. Jason will make sure of it.

Jason heads out to find Tim, daunting his Red Hood gear and helmet. The drive isn’t too far from his safe house but it is raining tonight, on and off. Yesterday was nice, warm and no rain. It’s a bit of a depressing contrast between the two days. The street lights reflect off the wet pavement and Jason isn’t entirely sure what he’s going to do when he gets there. All he knows is Tim will probably need help and he’ll just take it from there. It’s not exactly how he wants to approach any situation but he’s not sure what Tim will even be doing.

Jason pulls up to a building across the street from an alley where some, surely, illegal deal of sorts is going down. Apparently, Tim is supposed to be here eventually so Jason parks the bike in the dark of his alley before he uses a grappling hook to get to the roof of the building just so he can see better. And then he waits.

Meanwhile, you’ve made your place on the roof overlooking the alley with the van, knowing this is where Tim will be. And you can’t help but feel excited to see him. You miss him a lot even if it is a little hard to be happy it’s under the circumstances of Robin. There’s also the bit of dread and excitement over seeing Jason, working with Jason.

Seeing him means there’s going to have to be some sort of conversation over the two of you being unable to pick up a phone and call each other. There’s going to be some sort of conversation about everything that happened. It’s going to bring back all of the pain all over again. Will you even be able to pick up where you left off? Or will you fall into an awkward dance where you both just fumble over each other until Tim leaves? Or will it be worse? But, seeing him, being around him, always felt the most like home and you really hope he’s okay and happy. You’re excited just to see how he’s doing.

You’re laying on your stomach to take cover while you watch over the ledge but your fingers tap wildly against the pavement at the thought. It’s the hope this goes okay, that he doesn’t hate you. That Tim is happy to see you both. That Tim doesn’t get killed in the first five minutes of being Robin. Excitement, dread, and anxiety flood your system. Why did you agree to this?

Commotion starts from below you and you see Tim on the top of a car while the goons are loading their van. Even in the low light, you can tell the suit is a little different than Jason’s and Dick’s. The cape definitely is with its jagged edges and it’s longer. It fits him actually. You stand on the edge of the roof, grappling hook in hand and knife in the other, ready to slide down the second things get out of hand. 

Tim handles himself okay at first but then they outnumber him and they’re faster than he is and better. You know Tim has had a few training sessions but by the looks of it, they could not have been very long or helpful. Things start looking pretty bad for him so you use the grappling hook to lower yourself down but before your feet even hit solid ground, shots ring through the alley, taking out one of the men and then the other. Just as your feet hit the ground, you nail the last one with a knife, turning to face down the alley with your arms crossed. And there he is, walking confidently with a gun in hand.

Of course, he beat you to it.

Jason’s eyes widen behind his helmet. He did not expect to see you tonight. Kind of like last night, seeing you throws him off. It’s a bit jarring somehow. Gotham might be a big city but you travel in the same circles, it was bound to happen. Just…two nights in a row seems…odd.

“I had that covered.” You state through your mask.

Jason can taste his heartbeat in his throat as he keeps closing the distance between you. Your mask always muffled your voice a little but it’s still his favorite sound. He can feel his cheeks burning and a smile desperate to cross his lips. Jason bites it back, trying to keep his composure.

“Where the fuck did you even come from?” Jason quips back.

He is eternally grateful for the helmet. You wre always best at reading him. You could read every expression that ever washed over his face no matter how subtle it was. It was as if you could read each other's minds half the time and he is so glad you can't see him. His eyes are scanning you over, noticing nothing too new in the suit. It still fits you just as it always did, perfectly fitted in the all right places. His eyes go back up to your face, the hood is pulled onto your head. He catches the yellowing around one of your eyes and he almost asks what happened before he swallows it down. It's not entirely his place to ask at the moment but he thinks you're still just as beautiful today as you were the first time he saw you and the last time he saw you.

You point to the roof. “Clearly. And you?” You question, keeping your voice flat and curious, trying to conceal your own nerves.

Jason points a thumb over his shoulder. “Clearly.” He echoes as he stands next to you.

It all clicks then, this was definitely a setup by Dick. Of all fucking people, Dick Grayson is doing this shit? Jason swears up and down this is getting ridiculous. Bruce, Molly, Gar, Dick? They are all trying to get you two to communicate and…maybe they have a point even if Jason never wants to admit it. Not when two of those people are Bruce and Dick. But, he can’t focus on that or how this is sending his head into a tailspin.

He needs to help Tim which means he can’t let his feelings for you get in the way even if ignoring them is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. He has to act normal and like being next to you doesn’t make him want to explode. He needs to keep his cool, keep the smile from ripping apart his lips because even if this is a setup and he should be mad, he misses you so fucking much it physically pains him. He can’t find himself to be mad because you’ll never abandon Tim so even if you don’t speak to Jason while you help him, at least he gets to see you as you. Like old times even if it doesn’t last and for that, Jason is happy.

Jason reaches behind his head, releasing the helmet before he takes it off and you swear you swallowed your heart. He looks so good. “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Jason calls, eyes locked on Tim and you think you’ve melted at the sound of his voice.

His voice is somehow better than you remember it. A little calloused, a little rough, but not too deep. It always fit him so well and you’ve never been so thankful to have a mask that covers the lower half of your mouth because your lips are curling into the most uncontrollable smile. Every piece of reservation you had about seeing him completely flies out of the window.

Jason Todd has always had his type of gravitation pull like a planet lost in the universe and you’ve just been sucked right back into it.

You miss him so fucking much.

Tim looks down to his chest, right at the R symbol before he looks back to Jason. “I’m Robin.” Tim states as if Jason should have known.

The subtle hint of a smile comes over Jason’s lips seeing someone else in the Robin suit. It’s weird because it almost feels…hurtful. It hurts a little seeing someone else in a position where he was, not in a jealous way but in a way that he is reminded that was him. He was Robin and he fucked up and now he’s not. It hurts in the way he’s reminded of it being ripped away from his bloody hands. The suit is different, Jason clocks almost every difference in the first few seconds but it is similar. Jason was beaten to death in something similar with the same mantle. There’s almost this part of him that even worries about it. Robin didn’t work for Dick. He didn’t die as Robin but it didn’t work for him. Jason was killed. Where’s that going to leave Tim?

On the other hand though, there is something about someone else taking up Robin that feels good. Jason died but Robin didn’t. Robin never had to die with Jason and he shouldn’t. The people need a Robin and he doesn’t really know Tim but you do and Gar does. He trusts you both and Tim looks thrilled to be here. It’s a mix but there is something kind of nice seeing the resurrection of Robin.

“Hey.” You chime as you walk closer to him.

Tim’s smile splits his face. “Hey, how’d you know I’d be here?”

“Molly tracked you the second a Robin showed up. Knew it was you.” You laugh softly before you pull him into a gentle hug. “You should have told me.” You say as you pull away, your hands coming to his shoulders as you look over the suit, noticing all the difference between this one and Jason’s.

“Yeah, I thought I could handle this.” Tim chuckles sheepishly, realizing he was a little in over his head tonight but not lacking in any of his confidence to do this job. 

“Clearly, you were wrong.” Jason closes the distance between you. “You’re lucky we showed up when we did.” Jason stands right beside you as you drop your hands from his shoulders, maybe you looking over the suit makes Jason want to chew his tongue out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I got that.” Tim nods his head. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The smile reaches your eyes as you beam back at Tim.

Jason’s eyes narrow at you slightly. You seem awfully happy. He knows Tim is your friend but you just seem overly happy or maybe he’s in his own head about it. He just remembers that day picking you up from Titans Tower and it was…similar. It’s like he’s getting stabbed in the chest and the base of his throat knowing you were not happy to see him tonight. The very thought of your feelings disappearing makes him feel like his rib cage might collapse on itself. So, he pushes it away as far as he possibly can and bites back his own words, trying to just be relieved you look happy instead of pissed off Dick set you up. He’s just thankful you haven’t run away. Yet.

“What’re you doing here anyways?” Jason asks with the nod of his head at Tim.

“Dick sent me.” Tim starts before explaining this whole fake plan thing Dick sent him on while you and Jason pretend to act as if you have no clue what he’s talking about.

Jason nods his head. “Well, it's getting pretty late. I got a place. Come on.” Jason jerks his head down the alley before he starts walking, not even waiting for a response.

“Wait, really?” Tim asks with hope.

“Before I change my mind.” Jason states, his back fully towards you and Tim before he puts the helmet on.

Tim’s eyes are wide with excitement. He gets to work the Red Hood?! He knows it’s Jason but he was the second Robin and he doesn’t even know much about him. Gar and you talk about him and he met him a few times but this is totally different. Red Hood is going to help him with this?

“You can ride me with. I’ve got an extra helmet. I figured you’d need a ride.” You put a hand on his shoulder before nodding towards Jason. “My bike’s not far.”

The three of you make your way to Jason’s bike that’s closer and then to yours before you and Tim follow Jason to his safe house. It’s the one you took him to when Crane kidnapped him. You stare up at the building for a few seconds, feeling something a bit bitter in the back of your throat over it. Jason can move on, you hope with everything in you that he is, but as someone who cares about him, it's your job to be bitter and pissed about everything Crane did to him forever.

Tim and you follow Jason into the building, now the three of you in your street clothes after taking a detour to change. You've almost had your eyes practically glued to Jason ever since. And it’s taking everything in Jason to focus on the task at hand and not stare at you with a million questions.

The hallway is messy. There’s stuff on the floor everywhere and even though Jason is walking ahead of you, you can’t help but narrow your eyes at him. Surely, he has time to pick up the floor instead of kicking things to the side as he walks by. Jason is always so meticulous with things he likes but he just can’t help the mess in a hallway or his room for some reason.

“Venta?” Jason asks, keeping his steady pace ahead of you and Tim.

“Yeah.” Tim starts. “He lives down on Harbor.”

“Never heard of ‘em.” Jason states, walking through the hallway where he has a laptop set up before he starts typing away at something.

“Dick says he’s got information on the Organization.” Tim explains as he stands beside Jason, resting his arm on the open counter space.

“He sent you to get intel on the Organization?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Tim says casually, but almost like he wants to be offended you'd question it but then he looks between you and Jason. “Maybe we could team on this.” Tim suggests. “The three of us.”

Jason looks to him, struggling not to glance at you before he turns around and starts walking away swiftly. “I don’t team anymore.” Jason says as the laptop makes a noise, you peaking over at it as Tim trails after Jason.

Security system, and a nice one, too. It looks at least similar to the one used at Wayne Manor and in the Batcave. There seems to be some sort of cloaking system to shield his location from anyone who might be looking for him. You've heard he’s made several big-name enemies in Gotham already which is not surprising. Gotham’s newest crime lord is going to take some heat. Of course, he's protecting himself. You're actually relieved by the system. Maybe the security system lets Jason get some sort of sleep.

“Security activated.” The computer sounds through the speakers above the three of you.

“You don’t understand.” Tim defends while you move to catch up with them. “Brother Blood put my boyfriend in a coma.” Tim watches as Jason climbs the stairs before he quickly follows suit, you right behind him.

Jason knows he has to play this off, even if Tim is going to nag him all night. If Jason immediately jumps to help him, Tim won't learn a damn thing and he'll probably figure it out. Jason has heard all about Tim's intelligence and detective skills. If Tim is going to be Robin, Jason's not going to make it easy.

“How long you been doing this Robin thing?” Jason asks.

“Um…” Tim stutters as him and you enter one of the rooms with Jason, Jason still several feet ahead of you. There’s workout equipment, monitors, a fridge. It looks like this is where he trains and keeps his eyes on Gotham. “Not long.” Tim says.

“A couple weeks?” Jason asks as he looks over his monitors on the far end of the room.

“Not quite.” Tim states, looking around the room.

“A week?” Jason asks.

“Last night was my first night.” Tim admits, almost sounding defeated.

You nearly cackle. “Sorry, what?” You spit back as Jason turns around. The two of you exchange a look of surprise and confusion. Dick did not say Tim had no training.

"Yeah..." Tim looks between you and Jason, unsure where you're going to take this conversation. He hopes it'll get you both on his side. He could use the help.

“Oh, the suit did look fresh off the rack.” Jason states. This is going to take a lot of time and effort. “If I were you, I’d get out of Gotham. Take some reps in like Tucson or some shit.” Jason states as he leans his lower back against the table with the monitors, his hands holding the edge of the table.

“Shit’s been quite a bit messy lately and the Bat’s outa town.” You explain as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Dick sent me here to find Venta.” Tim nearly cuts you both off.

“Your funeral.” Jason shakes his head. “You can crash here if you don’t have plans.” Jason gestures a hand out, offering his place for Tim. “I mean, there’s eggs, beer, cheese.” Jason gestures quickly to the fridge sitting on the wall facing Jason on the opposite side of the room.

“That is a lovely diet, Jason.” You mutter back, earning you a bit of a glare from Jason.

It's not exactly like Jason to not have some sort of variety. Generally, he eats pretty healthy in order to maintain the muscle and physical fitness to do this whole thing but eggs and cheese aren't exactly the healthiest thing, especially with the addition of beer. You know he's been busy with Red Hood, helping Barbara. But, you wonder if this is one of those things Molly and Gar are worried about. You make a mental note of it to ask later.

“Been busy.” Jason quips back, almost gauging how you’ll respond.

“I can see that.” Your eyes widen as your hands gesture around.

“Thanks.” Tim interrupts you, unsure if this will be an argument or some weird banter thing you two do. Tim sets the case with the suit against the wall and that’s when he sees a clear board with a cipher on it that looks like Jason’s been trying to crack. “You working on something?” Tim gestures towards it as he starts walking towards it.

“No. I’m paying the fucking cable bills.” Jason quips back.

“Need some help?” Tim asks, his hands in his pockets as he looks over the cipher.

“Since you’re being nosy,” Jason starts before he walks over to Tim, you joining on the opposite side. “Shimmer’s been pulling off high-end heists all over Gotham.” Jason explains. “Sending ciphers as clues.”

Tim looks over the cipher a bit more and he’s got it. He reaches over for the eraser next to the board and starts erasing some of the code Jason has cracked.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jason questions.

“You got your A right but your coding’s off.” Tim explains making you stifle a laugh.

“Fuck you.” Jason defends as he watches Tim.

“It’s a Fibonacci Sequence.” Tim states. “Each number is the sum of two numbers that precedes it.” Tim explains. Jason and you take a step back to watch Tim work. “K-L-E-I-D-S-C-O-P-E.” Tim spells it out, writing each letter. Tim takes a step back, a proud smile on his face while the three of you look over the word.

“Kaleidoscope.” Jason states. “Oh, shit.” Jason starts, rushing over to this phone sitting not the table beside the board.

“I just had fresh eyes.” Tim states, still looking at the board.

“Right, nothing to do with being a genius or anything.” You quip back.

“Hey, Babs.” Jason says with the phone now pressed to his ear. “Uh, Kaleidoscope Auction House. That’s the target for Shimmer’s next hit.” Jason explains before he pauses, looking back at Tim for just a second. “And I’ll take my usual percentage.” Jason says before he hangs up the phone. “So, you are really smart.” Jason states.

“Told you.” You mutter.

“It’s nothing, really.” Tim brushes it off.

“Right.” Jason nods his head. “So, what’s your plan anyways? Stick around Gotham until you find this guy?” Jason asks before he walks over to the fridge, you pull up a seat by the monitors.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Tim shrugs. “I asked around tonight but no one seems to know what I’m talking about.”

Jason nods his head, beer now in hand before he opens it. “Want one?” Jason asks. "Water, Gatorade?" Jason offers before his eyes go back to you. "I have other shit."

You roll your eyes, pathetically putting your hands up in defense, keeping your mouth shut this time. For once, you can't quite tell if your subtle jabs are actual jabs or if it's what you usually do. At this point, you're too afraid to ask because either answer sounds a bit too much.

“No, thanks.” Tim states.

Jason pulls a blue Gatorade from the fridge before crossing the room and offering it to you. It wasn't even a thought Jason had because you've always been someone who will not accept an offer of a drink and then drink his. It was more of a reflex to grab the Gatorade for you. A gentle smile pulls at your lips as you take it softly from him, careful not to let your hand brush his.

“Asking the wrong people probably.” Jason answers as he leans against the table in the space right beside you. “Or they don’t you seriously.” Jason uncaps his beer with the remark.

“Second one.” You state as you uncap your bottle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tim looks back at the both of you.

“You got your ass kicked tonight.” You state. “I got a feeling you aren’t very good at being intimidating.” You shrug your shoulder casually before you take a drink.

“Hey,” Tim gestures toward you. “I figured out all of you guys and got you to cave about it. I’m pretty good, I think.”

“You’re my friend and I felt bad for lying.” You chortle before you take a sip. "I was at no point ever intimated by you."

“If she didn’t want you to know, she never would have led you to believe otherwise.” Jason takes his own drink knowing damn well you could have, at the very least, hid your own identity from Tim if you really wanted to.

“Still, one of them would have told me! I’m Robin.” Tim tries to defend himself, his voice almost defensive until it finally hits enthusiastic with the mention of 'Robin'.

The way he says it makes you burst out laughing. The amount of times you've heard the words 'I'm Robin' with so much pride and enthusiasm makes it funny. It’s the innocence and confidence Robin brings. Tim isn’t as…cheerful, enthusiastic about it as Jason was. Tim has seen the horrors already but…there is something familiar about it that makes you laugh. You hope he's able to keep that.

Jason thinks he’s melted into the ground with your laugh. The hard part of this whole thing is not going to be training Tim. That’ll be easy. The hardest part is going to pretend like it isn’t killing him to act like this is all fine with him and you. It is killing him not to poke fun at you or ask about everything. This is going to be torture.

“That what I sounded like?” Jason asks quietly.

“Kind of.” You nod your head at him, a soft and beaming smile directed right at him.

“What?” Tim questions.

“Nothing.” You brush it off. “Okay, look, why don’t you stay here with Jason for tonight and I’ll come by tomorrow. We’ll go look together.”

“You do teams?” Tim quips.

“No.” You shake your head, knowing that is a bald-faced lie. “But you’re my friend and I help my friends.”

“Okay, yeah, cool.” Tim smiles widely. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” You nod softly before clearing your throat. “I’m gonna head out then. Uh…” You pause for a second before you get to your feet. “Molly is probably waiting for me so I’ll just text you what time to be ready.” You offer Jason a nervous nod and closed-mouth smile.

You make your way to Tim, giving him a quick hug before you head for the door. Jason almost lets you. But, seeing you and feeling this way? It’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want you to be here just because Dick asked you. He doesn’t want you to be here just for Tim. He can’t just pretend this is all fine.

“I’ll, uh, walk you out.” Jason pushes off the table, earning you to turn around, raising a brow at him.

“Uh...yeah, yeah, okay.” You nod slowly. “Thanks.”

“Don’t touch anything.” Jason warns Tim before catching up to you.

You and Jason walk side-by-side out of the room and your stomach is swirling, turning into a goo. You're nearly vibrating from nervousness being around him again. And he looks so good. He looks healthy. The last time you saw him, he was covered in scrapes and bruises but there aren’t any on his face. You know there have to be some under his clothes but his face looks good and his cheeks aren’t as hollowed as they were before. His hair is fluffy just as it always was. He looks good.

Jason glances at you and Jason Todd is not one to get nervous but he is so nervous right now he’s stuffing his hands in his pockets just because his hands are sweating too much. It’s you and he has no reason to be nervous but his heart is thundering in his chest and he wants to smile ear-to-ear. Everything is different but it almost doesn’t feel that way. His heart is beating for you right now just as it did from day one to day 100. It only ever beats for you.

The two of you reach the door, standing and facing each other. There should be sort of 'see you later' exchange that happens but neither of you entirely know how to do that. Not with each other. You were friends, then friends with benefits, then together, and now you're exes. A handshake still feels far too professional given the intimacy that stands between you and the horrors you've endured together. A wave feels fucking pathetic. And a hug seems a bit out of the question.

It's not even like either of you want to do this whole 'see you later' thing. You both have endless questions and if tonight ends, tomorrow will begin and it might be different again. Jason doesn't want to risk anything in this. So, instead of fumbling his way through a goodbye that would haunt him in his sleep for the next ten years, he starts conversation just to stall you a little.

“What’d you do?” Jason jerks his head, pointing towards the bruise on your eye and he almost touches it. He has to force his hands to stay in his pockets.

“Oh, uh,” You smile softly, touching the yellow with your fingertips. “Molly, actually.”

“No fucking way.” Jason chuckles.

“Yeah, uh, been training her a bit.” Your brows furrow just for a second before you lick your lips. “She asked just to be prepared walking home or some shit. Um…and uh, obviously, you taught her a thing or two. But, she actually fell and I got an elbow to the face.”

Jason lets out a booming laugh and you forget how to breathe. It sounds just as lovely as it did before. Booming and loud, thunder shaking your rib cage free of all its pain.

“It was an accident?”

“Yeah.” You nod quickly. “Fucking painful one. This shit is two weeks out. My eye was swollen shut for like two days!”

Jason keeps laughing and his nose scrunches. You swear he’s still the cutest person to ever walk the earth. How could anyone not be in love with him?

“Sorry, you alright?” Jason asks, but the smile is still ripping across his face as he licks his lips.

“I am fine, thank you.” You nod your head, a soft smile on display. “You, uh, you look good, Jay.”

The nickname sends his head into a spiral. He can’t believe after everything you’ve done to each other and the time that’s passed, you can still make him feel this way. You make him feel like everything is gonna be alright somehow. And he makes you so happy. Something so simple and it’s just joy.

“Thanks.” Jason nods his head. “So do you.” His eyes soften with the ease of his words.

“Thank you.” You pull in a breath.

There’s a silence that falls over you and something hits you both. This is a request from Dick. It wasn’t supposed to be a reunion for you. It just happened to work out that way. Jason still did all of that and you still hurt him and betrayed him. Neither one of you had the courage to call the other. It took Tim coming here needing help. Something about that really hurts. Your minds take over even as happy as you are to see each other, to feel the love blossom through your chests. But, you look at each other and wonder how you could ever ask for forgiveness, especially with each other looking so good. So, you don’t. You punish yourselves.

“Molly’s helping me, by the way.” You blurt out on purpose, knowing it’ll piss him off.

You aren't trying to hurt him, you're just pissing him off. Jason will snap and fire back and you think you'll deserve it. Jason Todd has been very good at pushing everyone away and you've been very good at running. But, you know Jason expects you to run. If he ever wanted to forgive you for some reason, he'll know exactly what to do. So, you take a page out of his book and push. It'll catch him off guard, piss him off, and it'll be what you deserve anyway. You push.

Jason shakes his head, eyes widening. “What the fuck does that mean?” He snaps, searching your face for any indication this is some sort of joke.

“She helps me as Bluejay.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Why the fuck would you let her do that?!” Jason nearly demands as he crosses his arms.

Molly is his friend, too. He knew something was going on but he didn’t think Molly was actually helping. At this point, he's pretty sure the two of you have lost your damn minds. Molly didn't even agree with Batman and Robin and now she's helping? All people do in this path is get hurt or worse. Jason isn't going to give it up and he'd never ask anyone to. But, why the fuck would you let Molly help you? If he knows you at all, he knows you shouldn't be happy about it.

“She asked.” You keep your voice nonchalant, knowing that'll irritate him even more.

“Oh, so fuck it, right? She asked and you’re just gonna let her? And what the fuck are you gonna do when someone figures it out, huh?” Jason seethes as he tosses his right arm to the side.

“Oh, but it’s fine for Tim, right?” You question back as you blink at Jason. He doesn't seem to have a single issue with Tim, just Molly which is some of the ammo you were looking to get out of this.

“He wouldn’t leave any of you guys alone!” Jason defends, his hands shooting out to his sides. Molly and Gar have said they're worried bout you and while he's getting pissed off, he's also growing worried. Starting an argument with him is very uncharacteristic. “Molly isn’t a fighter! You’re putting her in harm’s way!” Jason shakes his head before clocking the Tim remark entirely. “I don’t have a fucking say on if Tim’s Robin, by the way. He’s your fucking friend, too! The fuck are you mad at me for?”

“But you were the previous Robin!” You snap back and you aren’t even sure why you do it. You don't want Robin to be the topic of the argument because that isn't fair. You just can't help it, your mouth is moving faster than your guilt and reason. “You’re not bothered by it at all but I have Molly working on a computer and that’s not fine?” You spit back.

Ow.

If there's anything Jason knows about punishing himself, it's what pushing looks like. He's not entirely sure what is setting you off but there's something. You're hitting a low blow bringing Robin into it and while he doesn't want to fight, it hits an exposed nerve. Jason Todd has always hated feeling exposed.

Jason shakes his head with a bitter laugh. “You haven’t fucking talked to me in over a month but now you think you know how I fucking feel about a Robin?” Jason lets out a scoff. “And yeah because Molly doesn’t need to be in the fucking middle of some bullshit you won’t be able to handle. You’ll get hurt or some bullshit, go to her, and you’ll be tracked. You don’t have a security system, bet your locks are shit, what’re you gonna do, huh?”

“Yeah, well, phones work both ways, Jason.” You spit back, choosing to ignore the second half of the argument. He isn't wrong and you know it. “Molly wouldn’t leave me alone about it and ya know, in my experience, the more we let people not help when they are adamant, they do it anyway and then they die or get hurt.” You scoff back. “Seemed better this way.” Sam nearly mutters it bitterly.

Jason can feel his heart breaking again because this isn't about Molly. He knew it wasn't but it's still about him. He's thinking you're not over the fact that he died which you should not be. But, it almost feels like you're choosing to blame him for his own death and that's something he never thought you would do.

“The fuck is that supposed mean?” Jason asks, his voice rough and angered but he’s not yelling. That’s always the most hurtful form of Jason Todd.

Too far. Too far. Too far.

You never intended to hurt him. It's just...maybe there's a lot of unsaid things from both of you because you both were always so worried about fucking it up. What's left to fuck up now?

You backpedal anyway because it is not fair. It's not his fault. “Nothing.” You shake your head.

“No, tell me what you really mean.” Jason keeps his stance, his voice unwavering.

Jason sees it as you blaming him but that's not true. The way you see it, if people want to help, maybe they're better off to help. Jason and you were held captive and dropped from a Skyscraper because you wanted to help and Dick said no. Jason wanted to be Robin and help and Bruce ripped it away. Tim wanted to help but everyone said no. Anytime someone really wants to help, they do and then they get hurt or worse. Molly was going to try and help one way or another. This way, you can keep an eye on her. Though, you can't quite bring yourself to explain it all.

“You. Me. Tim. Dick. Gar. Rachel.” You explain. “All of us.”

“And we were fucking thrown into this shit. All of us.” Jason argues his side. “I sure as shit didn’t pick it--”

“But you would have!” You scream back because it all just hurts again. He's lying to himself if he doesn't think he wouldn't have picked Robin if it were a choice. “Don’t pretend like Robin was some burden thrown onto you because he wasn’t! You loved it. You still do. Bruce may have weaponized you but he offered it to you and you took it.”

He knows you're right. Of course, he would have picked it. It was the coolest and greatest thing to happen to him at the time. He was useful and he was enough. He was finally fucking good at something and he was finally good for something. It made him feel like he belonged somewhere even if it didn't last. Of course, he'd do it again. As hard as it is, as tortuous as the last few months have been, he doesn't think he'd do anything differently.

“Fine, what about you?” Jason quips back. “Dick gave you a fucking choice. I remember that.” Jason scoffs. “You’d take it all back? If you knew how this ended.”

“Of fucking course I would, Jason!” Your voice finally cracks. “Yeah, I’d never fucking ask you to help me and I never would have went after Deathstroke with you or Jerry or any of this shit. If I could go back, I’d undo it.” You pull in a shaky breath and lower your voice. “It hurts all the time. I’d undo it.” You give him a sad and defeated shrug.

It hurts to say it but a part of you, really thinks you'd undo it if given the chance. Maybe you would just tell Dick no. Maybe it wouldn't be like this today. But, there is a larger part of you thinking you wouldn't be able to undo it. A lot of good came out of you being a Titan. You found this family and maybe had you just said no, it wouldn't be like this. You've been able to save a lot of people since being back on Gotham and doesn't that make it all worth it? The greater good should win.

You're looking at Jason and you wouldn't undo that. A lot of good came out of you being a Titan. Finding a family and new friends, Molly, learning how to properly fend for yourself and knowing you don't have to. It's all good. And Jason. A lot of good came out of being a Titan and Jason is so intertwined in that, you'd never be able to undo it without undoing you two.

You would never be able to.

You don't want to and this whole argument was just so stupid.

Jason looks to the ground and he knows what you mean but so much of you is intertwined in doing this that undoing that, almost feels like undoing you two. He knows that's not what you mean and you're angry over something Jason isn't sure what. You've talked about it. It's just harder today. It doesn't stop it from hurting though.

“Why put that on Molly then?” Jason brings his voice back down.

“Because you’d do it all over again.” You say softly. “Because Dick would do it over again. And Bruce and Tim and Kory and…all of them without even thinking twice about it. I think even Gar would. Molly won’t regret it and you know that.” You strengthen your voice.

This is stupid. He’s supposed to be doing better here but he fights you anyway. The punishment to himself and you started it. But…it doesn’t feel good to be here again. He doesn’t want to be here. He has fought tooth and nail to be alone and now that he is, he doesn’t like it too much. It hurts to be here alone. It hurts to be here without you. Jason promised you he’d make it up to you one day and yeah maybe he could have called and you could have called. But, neither of you did. Jason tells the voices in his head to shut the fuck up and he bites back at them.

“Just…make sure she’s safe.” Jason swallows thickly, catching you off guard. Jason never backs down. “You’re probably right. Molly can be pretty persistent.” He backs down for himself and for you. He won't let you punish yourself this way. You never let him.

“Yeah…” You trail off, tugging the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands as guilt eats away at your bones. “I didn’t want her help.” You whisper, caving, too. It doesn’t matter what you think you deserve and don’t deserve. Jason doesn’t deserve someone to push him away if he’s trying. That’s not fair. “But…it doesn’t work telling people no so…I make sure she’s okay.” You nod your head. “She is only my eyes in the sky. No one even knows I have someone on the inside.”

“Good.” Jason nods his head. “Yeah…” Jason trails off, his stare going to the floor, the white streak hanging loosely over his forehead.

One of you has to bring it up. One of you has to bring up the time you’ve spent apart. One of you has to say something besides the unsaid words that are nearly strangling you both. It will always feel giddy with a sense of dread and awkwardness unless you do. You always apologize.

“I’m sorry for not calling.” Jason states, catching you off guard and it’s like he’s just stacked twenty more pounds of guilt onto your pile. A lump grows in your throat and not once did you ever actually blame him for not calling you. You think he shouldn’t in order to protect himself. “I just…got busy and I don’t know.” Jason shrugs his right shoulder. “Should have.”

“I-I’m sorry, too.” You nod your head. “I, uh…yeah, busy.” You nod your head, swallowing the lump in your throat and biting back tears.

He has nothing to be sorry for.

Jason’s heart sinks because there’s something wrong. There is always something in the way you stutter around him that gives it away. It got to the point where you almost never did. You almost never tugged your sleeves down. It’s more of a nervous tick than anything and now you're doing it again. You're too exposed around him again and Jason can’t help but feel it’s all his fault and it’s too late. The thing you had, that strength that ruins mountains, has just wilted away. He thinks it might be his biggest regret.

“I’m really sorry.” You say more clearly this time. "For, uh, f-for not calling and uh, arguing with you just now. I, uh...I-I don't know." You tug the collar of your hoodie down just a bit, feeling suffocated by the fabric but then Jason sees the silver of a necklace around your neck.

You still wear it?

You open your mouth to talk but Jason cuts you off.

“Is that the necklace I gave you?” He blurts out before he can even process it.

He needs to know.

You look down, seeing the chain stare back a you before you pull the pendant from your hoodie and Jason wants to combust.

“Yeah.” You state, the infinity charm staring back a you. “Uh…” A smile pulls at your lips. You never take it off even when it all feels hopeless because maybe, just maybe, it's not just the cliche of infinity of you but some sort of symbol of hope that you'll find your way back to each other one day. “I know we haven’t talked and this shit feels awkward and shit but uh, I don’t know.” You lick your lips. “Figured Molly would call if you something happened and then…you’d know.”

You're realizing how dumb this whole thing. Maybe you can’t have what you really want. Maybe that’s not how this is meant to be. But you know he checks up on you and you know he knows you do the exact same. It’s silly and ridiculous for you to tiptoe over each other as if you haven’t witnessed each other at your best and worst. You held his lifeless body in your hands. Jason saves your life. Being a part from each other…not worth it.

A smile pulls at his lips before it turns into a smirk. “Someone’s gotta be prepared with your habit of being kidnapped.” Maybe it gives him hope, too.

“Shut the fuck up.” You groan. “It’s been months.” You can't help the smile that crosses your lips.

“You’re due.” Jason quips back.

You let out a laugh, sending a chill down Jason's spine. “I am good on that thanks.”

Jason tilts his back, feeling the same as you. This whole thing is fucking stupid. He needs to swallow his pride and he just doesn’t want you to leave. Despite his habit of spiraling into self-deprecating thoughts, he knows there has to be something left between you. Since the very first day, there has been something there. So, maybe you try this friend thing again. Maybe it'll work out.

“This is fucking stupid, right?” Jason laughs. “Not talking and shit.” He clarifies.

“Yeah.” You nod with a laugh. “Molly and Gar and Tim and Dick have been telling me that.”

“Molly, Gar, and Dick.” Jason groans. “Fuck, even Bruce.”

You let out a laugh. “Okay, you know it’s bad when Bruce is over here giving you advice on this shit.”

“Right?” Jason lets out a scoff. “We good?” Jason asks with hopeful eyes.

“Always were, Jay.” You smile softly at him and in that moment, you make a silent promise to yourself that you don’t care about your heart but you will guard his with every knife you have. “Friends who actually talk and act like it this time?” You question.

“Yeah, need someone to nag me.” Jason sticks his hand out.

“Oh, well, if you insist. Clean this fucking place, it’s a mess!” You take his hand in yours, shaking it softly.

“Since we’re friends, you could help.” Jason quips back, looking at the hallway that resembles the aftermath of a tornado.

You take your hand back. “You could go fuck yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jason grins back at you with furrowed brows.

Your brows raise with a splitting smile. “Ask your hand.”

Jason let out a chortle. “Fair.”

“Okay, seriously, I gotta get back. Molly will have too many questions if I stay any longer.” You nod your head, already mentally preparing for the amount of questions Molly will have and knowing none of them will actually pertain to Tim. “I’ll be back tomorrow, you gonna come?”

“Nah.” Jason shakes his head, figuring he'll let the two of you catch up by you showing him the ropes alone for a bit. “You guys go. Dick call you?”

“Mhm, you?” You pretend like you don’t know, mostly to keep the peace between the batboys.

“Yep.” Jason nods his head. “Setup?”

“Absolutely.” You laugh. "Dude still hasn't told Kory but he's setting us up."

"We have to repay the favor then, I guess." Jason offers you a wild and menacing grin.

"Oh, definitely." You nod quickly.

Jason shakes his head with a laugh. "Just gotta get Tim into shape first."

“We’ll get him ready in no time.” You beam back at him with the scrunch of your nose.

“We’ll start training when you guys get back tomorrow but follow my lead.” Jason offers, already ten steps ahead with a plan.

“Because Tim can’t know.” You finish.

“I got an idea.” Jason nods.

“You always have a plan.”

“Always.” The word babe almost slips from his lips.

“Okay, Jay.” Your cheeks burn, sensing it, too. “I will see you tomorrow.” You nod once before you turn on your heels and exit the building.

Jason watches you and his thinks he’s breathless. There’s something reminiscent of the first day he met you. Not entirely knowing much about you. He knows about you today but there’s a gap of time he’s missing. There are two actually because he doesn't know all of the details in the time he died. There are voids he’s missing and what’s changed about you because of them? It almost feels like that first day because his bones are vibrating with excitement and he can’t wait to see you again. It feels like it did then and he would love to keep chasing that feeling.

prev. chapter

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Tag List: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  //

@makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss  // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out //

@velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmesss // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom //

@baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash  // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx //

@deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover //  @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou //

@whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @ginger24880 // @urmomsgayforme5 // @septixtrash //

@kplatzman // @killxz // @lovefks // @laurelthesimp // @strawberryforks //

@mxtokko // @kolpvii // @adorabluesposts // @jasontoddthings

[mammalsofaction]

Missing You

Rating: T

Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus, Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota

Add tags: Takes place between Escape and Milo in Space, Perryshmirtz centric, human Perry the Platypus, post break up arc, post confessional and apology, making up and making out in an open plan room with pre teens in them, everything is good and going right and will go absolutely horrendously wrong in a couple of moments, if you ignore the fact that they're all looking for a pre-teen abducted by aliens you can pretend this is fluff, OLD MAN YAOI!!!!!!!!!!, simp Perry, I was only meant to hurt you in the right way 🥺

"How did you know we were here, anyway?"

Perry had not exactly been hiding, but he feels found anyway, his smile involuntary as a kid who finds himself caught in game of tag in a school playground. Heinz approaches him carefully, arms tucked behind his back like he's keeping himself in check, so Perry stills himself, remembering that it isn't quite his place to reach out now, not anymore.

Carl, he signs--the C sign blending into the leader sign, pinching the tips of his left hand with the curl of his right. Heinz let out a little Ah, noise, and his eyes downcast. Like he's disappointed.

There is silence between them, as it rarely ever is, and rarer still the awkwardness in the air as they think of all the words they should be saying, that should be said, and how to say them. Perry consoles himself with the fact that Heinz had at least yet to leave, but he leaves a gap between them like a gulf Perry isn't sure how to bridge.

It isn't often that Heinz Doofenshmirtz is ever lost for words, so Perry--as he always does--meets him in the middle.

Did you get my card? He asked, because he needed to know. Because he'd worried about it endlessly since he'd sent it, because it had kept him awake at night, thinking if it was too much, or too little.

But Heinz smiles by the mention of it, baby blue eyes sparkling under the alien fluroscence, and all at once it was worth it.

"That you sent through Vanessa?" Heinz chuckles, confirming. "Foul of you, Perry the Platypus, using my daughter to send our messages back and forth like some sort of owl postman. She's got better things to do with her time, you know."

He did know. Vanessa had consented anyway, had in fact been loudly enthusiastic with the idea once she found out about their current disagreement, and had loudly scolded Perry for being a 'Dumbass idiot who shouldn't be keeping things to himself when they've all established the fact that communication was what kept this relationship from falling apart despite literally both of your entire careers.'

Having only sent the one card had been an act of restraint. On his worst nights, Perry had imagined breaking into the Murphy residence on the other side of town and crawling on his knees for forgiveness, but even after all this time, he was still too afraid of showing his belly even to the people he loved.

I did, you know, he tells him, because he couldn't let himself be vulnerable then, and the next best time was now. Miss you.

"Yeah," Heinz said. "I-uh. I missed you too. Probably Vinnie could tell. The kids, too."

Vinnie, huh? Perry teased, to hide the sudden heartache, and that all too familiar snarl of jealousy. Didn't realize you guys were on a first name basis.

Heinz gives him a look like he could tell, anyway. Perry pulls at his collar, blushing.

Sorry, he signs.

Heinz sighs. "It's whatever. We were just two lonely guys looking to distract ourselves from our missing other halves, I suppose."

Perry chooses to latch on to the latter half of that sentence. I'm your other half?

Heinz stares at him, his hands, then back into his eyes. "You're kidding, right?"

I didn't think, Perry's hands flutter, and fails him. I thought you'd, I thought I'd really,

But then it didn't matter what he couldn't say, because Heinz bridges the gulf himself, and Perry feels the kiss, before he'd even caught his move, and even after all this time their lips fit together like puzzle pieces, and Perry falls forward like a broken stone wall.

Missing you, he had written on the card, because it had been the most accurate plead he could think of. You were missing from me.

It's deep, but brief, on account of being met with a chorus of loud protests and jeers from their unwilling audience, and Zack Underwood yelling loudly, and pointedly, that this spaceship was open plan, people, come on. Perry pulls away first, chuckling and feeling lighter than he has for months, while Heinz rolled his eyes. He does not, at least, take his hand away now that it has settled into Perry's hip, and he feels so happy he could die. He buries his face into Heinz's shoulder as he scolds the children for interrupting an adult conversation, while Melissa Chase comments lightly that, technically, the bathroom was closed off.

"Bathroom for adult conversations, got it." Dakota quips, and Cavendish hits him over the head without even looking up from where he's handling the ship's hull control.

"I'm 14!" Underwood shrieks in an impressive high tone as Perry begins to laugh. Poor stranded boy in space aside, he thinks things are really starting to look up.

[lorei-writes]

[Overheard; Transcribed]

Leon x OC (OC Chart: Viva) Fluff ~500 words Prompts: Golden Hour + Colours of Sunrise

My for Sunshine & Starlight CC hosted by myself and @violettduchess >:) This time, written in dialogue alone.

Content Warnings: none

“Vivi, where are your shoes?” “It’s ‘Her Majesty, Queen Viva’ for you. And beats me. Ha! Probably at the bottom of the lake, together with our carriage. I don’t need them either way, it’s just a forest now.” “Oh? ‘Her Majesty’? The King doesn’t get any preferential treatment? C’mon, Vivi. Be my sunshine this once. We could have drowned, you know?”

“Vivi, where are your shoes?”

“It’s ‘Her Majesty, Queen Viva’ for you. And beats me. Ha! Probably at the bottom of the lake, together with our carriage. I don’t need them either way, it’s just a forest now.”

“Oh? ‘Her Majesty’? The King doesn’t get any preferential treatment? C’mon, Vivi. Be my sunshine this once. We could have drowned, you know?”

“So what? We haven’t even touched the water… Oh, stop it with that face! Fine, fine, let me think… But nope, no can do. It was a good try, though. Try some more, and who knows, maybe I’ll give you a briiight smile.”

“You’re smiling now.”

“And so do you, so shut it, lion cub.”

“You’re such a weasel.”

“Kitten.”

“Rooster.”

“Cock-a-doodle-do!”

“Your Majesty, that’s… That’s… Ahaha, that’s some mighty crowing.”

“Anything for my king, of course. Do you want another round? I can go louder, Leon, I swear I can, just you watch me.”

“Vivi, there’s a —”

“COCK-A-DOODLE-DO! How is —”

“Gotcha. You need to watch where you’re going, there are stray roots everywhere. It’s still dark.”

“Oof, you’re a lifesaver… But you know… I can walk…”

“…”

“You really don’t have to carry me.”

“...”

“Leon?”

“…”

“Leon, let me go.”

“Nope. Don’t wanna.”

…

“Hey, Vivi. You’re awake?”

“Of course I am… now.”

“Good. You’ve been too quiet.”

“Don’t tell me you actually want me to crow again? Haha… But I really could walk on my own. Aren’t you tired?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Pfft, it was fun. How often do you get to play a decoy, right? And if Chevik and Clavek caught our instigators… Then… aaahn… Then all the better. The further away from an uprising we are, the better.”

“Heh. You’re impossible.”

“You like it.”

“I do, my sweetest valiant rooster.”

“Cock-a… doodle...doo…”

…

“Hey, Leon?”

“Yeah?”

“Look at me.”

“Your hands are cold.”

“It’s all right… Your eyes look like gold, you know?”

“Your hair does too. If it wasn’t so soft, I’d think it was made from wire.”

“Oh… and the forest too… The dawn must be close.”

…

“Hey, Leon?”

“Yeah?”

“Which colour do you like best?”

“Huh?”

“Of the sky, I mean. I used to really hate it when it was red – I needed to get up again, or the day was ending too fast… It was always too fast. And you know, I liked watching when the sun was all gold. I would dream about walking up to it and stealing some. Wouldn’t it be easier if I could buy bread for that? Hahaha, come on, stop with those sad eyes!

“The point is, I don’t really hate it now. No, no, it’s not even that. I actually like it. It feels so warm… And it kinda reminds me of you. You really had to pick that red for your cape, eh?”

“…”

“Leon?”

“I think red is fine, yeah. But blue’s my favourite.”

“Why? I’d never guess.”

“Because when the skies are blue, nothing is obstructing the sun… Although I used to hate that too. But that was a long time ago.”

You've seen a typo? Let me know!

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @starlitmanor-network @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather

@tele86 @rinaririr @keithsandwich @cheese-ception @bis-enti

@claviscollections @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @lucyw260

@solacedeer @bicayaya @faustianfascination @m-mmiy

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

[ancientschampionau]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Gameplan

Hello! Another Drabble (second one i wrote) concerning the idea of Nightmare returning to his original form (Lovely Prompt idea by @spotaus )

First Drabble here Prev drabble here Next Drabble here

Warning, unedited and unbeta'ed. We die like my ability to spell anything.

----

Cross checks around the corner towards the street and waits for a moment longer before nodding "I think we are in the clear. We can talk here for a moment."

Killer just lounges back against a dumpster as he pants "Good! Cuz! I am not walking another step!"

Horror frowns as he searches his backpack. Slowly taking out some fruits "We need to stop this. We can't get the resources we need like this."

Cross groans as he rubs his face "I know I know. But we can't just settle anywhere! How do we explain..." He stops and slowly turns to look to the side at Dust.

Dust sits completely calm on the gorund, cross legged. Looking perfectly calm and content. With the still struggling Nightmare in his arms. Dust just sits there and looks at Nightmare with a raised brow and moves around a bit. Easily getting Nightmare to sit back in his lap with one of Dust's arm holding Nightmare around the middle wiht both arms trapped. And the second arm around his shoulders to pull him back easily. Nightmare looks grumpy beyond believe and Cross can't take it too seriously as Nightmare lost all his goop and corruption. All that remains is a perfectly normal and adorable tiny babybones.

Cross turns back to Horror and Killer and waits.

Horror looks at the scene before shrugging before turning back to prepare a snack for their now tiny charge. Looking calm as he moves.

Killer snorts "Why would we? Boss is tiny now. So what?" and he shrugs.

Cross groans as he rubs his face. He can admit that he will still need some time to get used to the change. But it is okay as he can accept it. After they found the old picture book and the just as old crown they had been putting together what actually happened. And well, even if they sometimes act dumb three out of four of them have university degrees of some type and Cross had always been one of the smartest soldiers.

That together with the known fact that Drema broke out of the stone young but grew up made the fact obvious.

It wasn't that they were in a situation of Nightmare having been deaged. They were in the situation that the Nightmare they had known had been an aged-up version of the real nightmare. Which is the very same grumpy babybones that Dust is holding right now.

Yeah. Cross just needs a bit more time.

Cross glares at Killer and focusses at the issue they need to actually fix "We know that!" he waves around them "But how do you think anyone is going to react to knowing we have Nightmare and that Nightmare is well... like this again?"

Killer hums and nods "I guess..." he turns towards Nightmare "How about a different name? What do you think Nighty? What can we call you?"

Nightmare glares with all his six year old force "Boss."

Killer snorts "got it tiny boss!" and he grins at Cross and shrugs "Guess that idea is a burst. anything else?".

Cross groans as he rubs his skull "don't you see the issue?! If anyone finds out about this they will try to take him from us and bring him to the Stars, if they don't just call the Stars!" Or worse. And they will think that killing Nightmare would be a reasonable solution to keeping him from aging up.

Killer actually glares as he radiates his blood- and LOVE-lust "Let them try."

Cross sighs as he rubs his face "what do you suggest we do?!"

Killer huffs "Obviously we do what we are doing now. We keep moving and universe hopping." and he nods.

Horror looks up with a frown "We can't do that. We will run out of resources. babybones need nutrients" as he says this he sits by Dust and Nightmare with the cut fruits. Nightmare focuses his full glare on Horror but Horror doesn't even blink. They have gotten used to this routine over the last few days and there is a good reason Dust and Horror do it.

Dust nods as he helps Horror by aiming the still struggling babybones "Not to forget his schooling. Now that he is young again he will need to relearn things. Can't do that while hopping from place to place."

Cross turns back to Killer and crosses his arms "See? horror and Dust agree."

Killer grumbles. "Fine! We find some stupid positive universe to hunker down in some abandoned building and do raids to get stuff. Easy!"

Cross crosses his arms "Still the problem of what we do if someone sees him. How do we explain that? people will think we stole him!"

Killer goes to speak. pauses and tilts his skull "I mean. Technically we did kind of steal him. Sure he was originally our boss, so ours. So we have the right to steal him again but still. Very much stolen."

Cross sputters "I! I wasn't serious!" well he was but not about the stolen comment!

Horror speaks up even as he feeds Nightmare, which Ngihtmare tries to fight but Dust is there to assist him. "Technically it wasn't stealing."

Cross sighs "Thank you Horror-"

"We kidnaped him." Horror finishes his statement as he manages to get Nightmare to eat a bit. Nightmare actually pauses and the stubbornness makes way for the much younger mind that enjoys the food and a tiny soft purr starts to leave the babybones. He doesn't struggle as much anymore as the second bite is brought over.

Cross stops and lets his skull fall into his hands "we are so fucked."

All three speak up "Language."

Cross groans louder. They are so fucked.

---------

Prev part.

Next part.

[localguy2]

I find it highly amusing how in situations where the ninja are separated/it's just the OG four, Kai and Zane immediately assume control/start spearheading the team because apparently no one else is sane enough or in the right mind to do so.

Your honour, they literally have one of the best dynamics in the show, with how they're probably the most protective people in the team. And it makes me mad how this is overlooked by the fandom and the show.

[turtleblogatlast]

Don’t think I ever quite said what my LGBTQ+ headcanons are for the boys, so these are my current thoughts! Always changing of course but this is what I feel most strongly right now.

[the-real-google]

I got really curious about something while catching up on notifs and now I have to know:

I don't remember everyone's handles so please reblog this so more people see it! Thanks :)

[front-facing-pokemon]