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jasntodds · 2 years

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Caving In [1]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 13,538

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, mentions of various injuries including a mention of road rash, bruises, cuts, and a burn, mentions of death, some fluff I suppose, a mention of drug addiction, jason todd is a smartass and so is the reader, reader gets arrested (not long and doesn’t go to the station or anything like that), a mention of the Joker and Two-Face

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: I came out of the gate swinging with a long chapter. But, I have literally been writing this every single day for a month straight and I have never been more excited about posting a series before. I am VERY proud of this series so please lemme know what you guys think!! I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 The first few chapters take place between season 2 episode 1 and season 2 episode 2. You can add yourself 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!!

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You didn’t have what you would consider a horrible childhood. In the grand scheme of things, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. You had a mom who loved you and did her absolute best to provide for you. You rarely ever fought and your mom took care of you. You had a few friends, none that really stuck around when shit hit the fan, but you don’t blame them. So, you had some friends and that was cool while it lasted. Your dad was ad deadbeat addict you only remember seeing once and the way you see it, good riddance. You had your mom.

Had.

However, that was then and this is now where you’re standing on the street, using a car window breaker to break into a car late at night in the middle of Gotham City. Gotham has a habit of breeding some real fucked up psychos. You’re almost positive it has got be the water and it’s only a matter of time before everyone in the city either turns into Batman and Robin or The Joker and The Riddler. The psycho doesn’t care who you are and if you have a family, they take and take and laugh in the face of everyone else’s agony. So, here you are breaking into a car as you’ve done for last few months since the Joker decided to do what he does best. Kill.

Whenever you break into a car, which is almost nightly now, you remember judging those who did before because this is someone else’s property. They probably worked hard for it and who are you to take it from them. But, no one ever said surviving was easy. You get it now, a little guilty about it but not guilty enough to stop.

“Sweet.” You huff to yourself, smile on your face as you find a hundred dollars in the center console. “Idiot.” You mumble as you stuff it in your pocket.

You rummage around the car some more, hoping to find more. If the person was dumb enough to leave a hundred dollars, maybe there’s something you could sell. You push around a few unimportant things like papers and a pair of old shoes, not finding much. With the shrug of a shoulder, you consider this car a win and back out of the car only for the flashing of red and blue to catch your attention from your peripheral.

“Ah, fuck me.” You groan, turning on your heels and sprinting as fast as your legs will let you down a close alleyway.

The sirens sound behind you. There’s still a smile plastered across your face with the lights behind you and your feet smacking puddles. The city lights guide you in and out of other alleys and down side streets. It’s a bit of a thrill. The air is wet on your skin, thick with moisture from the previous storm. The city streets have that smell of wet pavement and fresh rain, something that lives in your bones. Running through the streets of Gotham is a regular activity but you find it fun, adrenaline in your blood and city lights guiding the way.

This is not the first time GCPD has found you breaking into a car but they didn’t catch you then and you don’t think they’ll catch you now. The only one really competent at catching anyone committing a crime is Gotham is Batman and Robin but they don’t normally go after kids robbing cars. It’s not exactly hot radar here.

Your chest heaves with every step but you’re having a blast. The burning almost doesn’t bother you with every stride, lungs feeling like they could collapse at any moment. That’s part of the thrill, how far can you run before they catch you or your lungs explode. Well, normally, but tonight the pavement is a little too slick. You go to run around a corner, shoes slipping on the pavement, sending you right into the pavement.

“Shit!” You scream out, feeling the road rash on your arms and your legs, knowing you ripped your clothes from the fall.

“Hands up.” One of the cops says as they catch up, getting out of his car.

You roll your eyes, racking your brain in hopes you can come up with a big bad escape plan. You do not want to go into the system. “Can’t you see I’m little hurt here, asshole?”

“Looks like that’s on you.” His voice is annoyed. “Get up.”

“Again, I’m hurt.” You pout up at him. “I should really have an ambulance. It’s your fault I fell.”

“How do you figure?” The cop questions, making it evident this is not how what he thought he’d be doing tonight.

“You were chasing me.” You shrug a shoulder, looking at your elbow, grimacing at the sight of blood and gravel in your arm. “I wouldn’t have fallen had you just let me go.”

“You committed a crime. You’re not getting off.”

“I’m a minor living in Gotham City who just broke into a single car. Our courts can’t even keep the fucking Joker behind bars, you think I’ll be put away? Please.” You let out a scoff following by a hollowed laugh.

The one thing you have never learned how to do is hold your tongue. It’s always been a little bit of an issue but ever since your mom died, it’s gotten worse. Who do you have to hold your tongue for? You have no one. At least if the cop arrests you, you’ll have a warm bed to sleep in and probably a meal. Not a good one, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Get up.” The cops sneers, grabbing your arm and yanking you up. “We’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out. Where are your parents?”

“Dad’s somewhere getting high, mom’s in six feet under.” Your voice is nonchalant as you shake your arm free, your knees and arms feeling like they’re vibrating from the pain.

The cop looks down at you with a sigh. Unfortunately, this isn’t an unusual thing for him or any other cop in Gotham to deal with. Kids with parents who are either dead, nonexistent, or not participating in their lives is normal thing here. Far more normal than any other city. You have a smart mouth and you robbed a car but you’re also alone, parentless, and clearly homeless. He doesn’t really want to take you to the station. It’s another kid thrown into the prison system.

“You’re gonna call CPS, right?” You ask from the back of the squad car as the cop drives.

“That is protocol.” He says, glancing to you in the rearview mirror.

“I think that’s a horrible idea.” You scoff, plopping back in your seat, crossing your arms to the best of your ability with the stinging road rash.

“Can’t just let you live on the streets.”

“You could.” You sigh. scrunching your nose.

“Don’t you want a place to live?”

“Yeah, but the system is corrupt. You would know. Why the fuck would I wanna go there? I can take care of myself.”

“You’re in the back of my car and for what? A few bucks?”

“I’ve been doing fine. The pavement’s wet.” You pout. If you had shoes with actual grip, you wouldn’t have fallen.

“Look, I’m sure you’ll be fine, okay?” The cop’s voice is quieter this time, trying his best to be reassuring. “Lots of kids turn out fine.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring him as you watch the city pass by. There’s something in your gut that just knows this is not going to end well for you. Foster care, group homes, it never sounds like it’s going to end well, not for you. Maybe others, sure. Not all foster homes and group homes are bad, but you can feel it in your bones, the shattering of your world consuming you with every passing building. This is going to get really fucking bad.

1 Year Later

Your eyes peek open, lids heavy and weighed down as your chest heaves. Your face is in agony with an aching pain your right side. Your head is throbbing as you blink your eyes, swearing it feels like you’ve been hit with a sledgehammer. The pavement is cool beneath you as your eyes move up the walls in front of you, a red and worn-away brick. It’s all moving so slowly for you, almost like a YouTube video lagging at 480p. Slow and staggered, taking in one sense at a time as you come to.

You feel someone beside you, their hand is warm on your arm and he comes into focus from the corner of your eye. Your heart rate spikes, the drowsiness vaporizes and the throbbing of your head suddenly makes everything click. Your eyes widen and you grab his forearm with your hand, a burning and stinging sensation makes him yank his hand away.

“Fuck!” He yells, looking at the growing chemical burn on his arm and back to you as you try to scramble to your feet, legs weak and stinging. “Wait!” He yells at you, trying to get you to stay put, processing what’s going on.

You get to your feet, the man following your lead and standing up, holding his arm across his stomach. Your eyes scan him over and look behind him, trying to ignore the throbbing in your head to come up with a clear plan to escape him. You’re not going back to the basement or to the heinous piece of shit who clearly left you here for dead.

“Who are you?” He asks, his voice is stern, jaw squared while he looks to your hands that outstretched in front of you. Your palms are flowing a florescent green aimed right at him.

You shake your head, matching his stare, teeth grinding. There's a firey anger in your eyes, almost telling him to go ahead and try you. You’re in agony, every muscle feels likes it’s being eaten by fire ants and you’re using every bit of strength to square off with him. But you hold that hard stare not willing to move. The pain will have to take a backseat this time.

“Look,” He lowers his voice trying to ignore the stinging pain of his arm. “I found you here. I was making sure you were okay.”

You scoff. “Sure. You just check on random people passed out in an alley?” You’ve lost a bit faith in humanity recently.

“You burn everyone who tries to help you?” He quips.

Your eyes narrow, not playing the game of getting ‘helped’ again. “Bold of you to assume people help.”

He sighs, dropping his head while his hair falls onto his forehead. “I’m Dick.” He picks up his head, stepping forward just one step and you take one back. “You’re hurt.” He gestures to your side where blood is seeping through the fabric of your shirt.

You look down and see the bright red staining the white fabric. Oh, that’s not good. A sense of queasiness comes over you and that’s when you really start taking in what’s happened. Flashes of the day before haunt your eyes, clouding your view of Dick. You slam your eyes shut which just seems to make the memories worse. The throbbing becomes a catastrophic earthquake in your head, begging to crumble everything in its path. Your hands come to your head, trying to get it to stop as the world around you starts to spin.

Dick takes a few steps forward. “Hey, are you okay?” Dick asks, looking down at you but before you can tell Dick to leave you alone, everything falls black, your legs going limp as you pass out, Dick catching you on the way down. “Alright, then.”

He looks you over, taking notice in the several cuts, bruises, and scars you have on your exposed skin. He has no idea what happened to you but he does know one thing, he’s going to find out and he’s gonna find out how you burned him. Dick’s always had a thing for saving kids so he picks you up and decides to take you to the tower. You were terrified, at least he knows you’ll be safe there.

Back at the tower, the elevator doors open and Dick walks through caring you with broken skin. Gar and Rachel are in the living room, their attention pulled back as they hear him come in.

“Hey, what are--” Gar pauses from his seat on the ottoman while Rachel stands up from her seat, eyes wide and confused as Dick comes into view.

“Who is that? What happened?” Rachel asks, her words fast as she walks over to Dick, Gar right behind her.

“I found her.” Dick states, his voice a bit exasperated. “Gar, can you help me?”

“Uh…sure.” Gar nods, knowing it’s because of Dr. Caulder that Dick’s even asking.

“Rachel, go spar with Jason.” Dick says and Rachel shakes her head but does as she’s told while Dick and Gar head off to the infirmary wing.

Dick places you on a bed while Gar stays behind him. This is weird. He knew Dick had a thing for picking up strays, that’s how him and Rachel ended up with Dick. But, it’s very weird being on the other side of that and actually seeing him bring someone home, especially someone who’s as banged up as you are and unconscious no less. It makes Gar pretty uncomfortable.

Dick directs Gar to grab bandages and the saline solution so they can clean some of the blood cuts that are visible to them. Gar does as directed without saying a single word. He just follows Dick’s lead and helps him clean a few cuts on your arms while Dick cleans a gash on your cheek. Whatever happened to you was bad, that’s something that everyone can see clear as day. But, they don’t know how it happened or why and maybe that’s the scariest part about it. Whatever happened, was bad and what if you’re more than a random person from the streets? Or what if you are and someone is hunting you or something? It’s a terrifying thought.

As they finish up, Gar sees Dick start addressing his own wound. He hadn’t noticed it before but now he can see a red burn on his arm. But, when Gar asked Dick about it, Dick brushed it off a bit by just saying you had done it when you came to for a minute. He didn’t seem to be too concerned about it which made Gar more confused by the whole situation. Not only are you just some girl off the streets but you also have powers and have already burned someone. That sounds a bit dangerous but Gar isn’t one to question authority so he goes with it.

They finish up before leaving you alone. Dick and Gar head to the comms lab where Dick gains access to the security cameras where he found you. He’s mostly showing Gar how to do the same, just in case something happens and Gar ever needs to know. Gar is more of the tech guy in the tower anyway. So, Gar watches closely as Dick brings up the city’s security cameras and they find footage of an older car that looks to be in decent condition pulling into the alley. A bald man with a medium build gets out, looking around to see if anyone is around. He walks to the back of the car and opens the door, pulling you out, looking completely lifeless. He dumps you up against a wall before getting back into his car, pulling out of the alley and driving away as if nothing happened.

Dick shakes his head, his jaw clenching and he just cannot understand how people do that to kids. Being a detective and Robin, he saw it a lot, grown adults beating on kids or getting verbally horrible with them, taking them to drug deals. It’s a mess and he cannot understand why adults do that to kids like it’s normal and it’s okay. There will never come a day where it doesn’t send his blood into a rapid boil.

“Do you think he…did that to her?” Gar asks, looking up to Dick with worry in his eyes.

Dick looks at him, seeing the concern embedded in his face. “I’m not sure.” Dick keeps his voice level, looking back at the screen. “But, by the looks of it, yeah or he knows who did.”

“Why would someone do that?” There’s sadness etched in every word. Gar doesn’t like real violence very much. He doesn’t know why anyone results to it unless it’s a dire situation. Similar to Dick, he just doesn’t understand how someone can do that to another person.

“Maybe we’ll get some answers as to what happened when she wakes up.” Dick nods his head, trying not to worry Gar more. “Why don’t you go join the others? I’ll watch the cameras until she wakes up.” The question was more of a request, rather than an actual offer and Gar knows that.

Gar nods his head and leaves, head swimming with the who, what, when, where, and why of the situation. Maybe you’re dangerous and that’s why it happened. You did burn Dick so you at least, have powers. But, maybe there’s more to it. Maybe you tried to defend yourself and it didn’t end in your favor. Gar knows it’ll be picking at the back of his head until they find out more but for now, there’s nothing he can do but listen to Dick and join Rachel and Jason.

You finally come to a few hours later. Your eyes open slowly, seeing a wall with a TV mounted to the wall in front of you, similar to a hospital room. But, it’s aesthetically warmer as you look around. The walls aren’t white and the lights aren’t fluorescent. The bed is definitely more comfortable and so is the blanket. For a split second, you almost forgot about your encounter with Dick and think maybe you really could be safe in a hospital but that second fades.

It comes back like a polaroid printing. Slow and fading the images, dulling the colors as it develops. It’s blotchy, the alley and Dick standing in front of you. A part of you isn’t entirely sure you can picture his face. All you know for certain is that he’s tall with brown hair and then you remember burning him, which wasn’t entirely on purpose. But, that’s it, it’s like it all just stop developing like maybe someone moved the camera right as they clicked the capture button. It just gets blurry and blank so you look around a bit more.

You notice gauze bandages wrapped around the cuts on your arms, an IV sticking out of your hand. You touch your face where there’s a bandage covering the large gash you had and you sit in a state of foggy confusion. Who is that guy and did he bring you here? If so, why? What’s his motive? Everyone has a motive and it’s never just to be kind. No one is ever just that nice. And where is here anyway? The room is big but it’s not a hospital, there isn’t anyone walking the hallway from where you can see. There isn’t a window looking into the room on the wall or on the door. It’s like a standard room so it’s not a hospital.

Dick walks into the room as you’re looking around, you only notice him when you look over and the dread fills your bones. It shouldn’t be too shocking given the amount times you’ve been hurt but you didn’t hear him come in and that sucks. Surely, with the laminate flooring and him wearing shoes, you should have been able to hear his footsteps but you didn’t. You can’t remember if his voice was muffled in the alley or if it was clear and that’s a bit unsettling. But, this has happened before and the hearing always comes back in a few days.

“You’re awake.” Dick says as he walks to the foot of your bed, his voice sounding a little muffled. You just stare at him, not wanting to talk until you know what’s going on. “What’s your name?” He asks and you get that look in your eye like you did in the alley, filled of anger and spite, with the slightest touch of terror. You shake your head slowly, standing your ground on not talking. “Alright,” Dick sighs, putting his hands in his front pockets. “Not talking?” Dick asks and you give him the quick raise of your brows, tilting your head slightly to your right.

It’s not that Dick thought this would be easy. He remembers being taken home by Bruce, how new and scary everything was. He had just witnessed his parents die and then some strange billionaire picks him up, decides to adopt him. It was weird and this is weird. It’s a little different and he doesn’t know your story, but he can understand your hesitance in talking.

“Well,” Dick lets out a breath. “Do you remember what happened?” Dick asks. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just nod your head. The alley?” Dick clarifies and your eyes narrow but you nod your head twice. “Do you remember how you got there?” Dick asks and he sees your eyes fade as if you’re not with him anymore. The heart monitor starts to steadily go up.

You remember everything, the haunting in your bones running your blood cold. You remember everything in vivid detail. He asks that question and you’re right back where you were, right in that room in that chair, in screaming agony. It’s all there, right in the front of your head and you might not be there now but you swear you never escaped.

“Okay,” Dick gets the hint that you do remember but it’s nothing good. “The tower is safe, fully secured if you’re worried about someone coming to get you.” That brings you back and of course you’re worried about that. But what does he know? “No one here is gonna hurt you.” Dick assures you and he can see the slightest bit of relief come your face. “There’s Gar, he came in and helped me clean up your cuts. They’re pretty bad.” Dick explains, getting no reaction. “Rachel, she’s nice, good kid and then there’s Jason, he’s a bit much sometimes but he’s a good kid, too.” You raise a brow at him, as if to be questioning why there are three other teenagers here. “It’s a long story.” Dick states and you give him a long singular nod. “What’s your name?”

You debate it for a minute. If you tell him, he might be able to find who did it and call him to come get you. But, you look to the badges on your arms and you figure he could also just run a blood test of some sort and figure it out. If this is some type of medical center, that’s something he could do. There is also the slight chance he actually wants to help and maybe telling him your name is just that. Telling him your name.

“Y/n.” Your voice is graveled.

The corner of Dick’s mouth pulls into a small smile. “I’m Dick.” He says and you nod again, remembering that detail. “How’d you burn my arm?” He asks, this time a little sterner and you match him again, shaking your head slowly.

That’s not something you’re going to discuss with some random, run-of-the-mill average person. Having powers and talking to a seemingly powerless person doesn’t seem to end well for the one with powers. So, she keeps her mouth pressed into a hard line.

“You’re not gonna tell me, huh?” Dick asks and he chuckles softly. You sure are stubborn. You shake your head giving him a small but sarcastic grin. “Alright,” Dick nods his head. “How’s food?”

The idea of food is almost nauseating from lack of food recently. The more you think about it the more foods come to your head. Burgers, pizza, pasta, even a bag of chips. All of it is making your mouth water. You are fucking hungry.

You nod slowly.

“I’ll have Gar bring something in for you.” Dick says as he starts walking towards the stand next to your bed. You move slightly to get away from him, your right side aching with the movement. “I’m just grabbing the remote for you.” Dick assures you, keeping his voice level while he opens the drawer and pulls out a black remote. “Here, there are streaming services connected. You can watch whatever.” You narrow your eyes as if expecting it to be a trick of some sort. “It’s just a remote.” Dick tells you and you take it from him slowly, carefully dodging his hands.

You give him a thankful nod as you turn the TV on, a welcome screen lighting up the once black screen. Dick gives you a warm smile before heading for the door, choosing to let you be by yourself for a few minutes. You watch him leave and once he’s out of view, you put your attention to the TV. This whole thing feels weirder by the minute but you’re injured and it hurts to even move. So, you scroll through recommended movies and find one that you remember your mom always saying you should watch together. You never got around to it so you turn it on now, letting the movie help you forget everything that’s happened.

It's half an hour before someone knocks on the open door to your room. You look over to see a cute boy with green and black hair wearing a black shirt with a red logo at the door. He gives you a wide and cheeky smile, holding a plate of pizza.

"Hey, I'm Gar." He greets you, walking in and to the side of your bed.

You look between his eyes and his hair. Green hair. Interesting choice. "Y/n."

"Here." Gar offers the plate to you gently.

You eye it carefully, not sure if you should really take it. What if it’s been poisoned? For all you know, these people are also crazy. But, you look back to his eyes and they’re so warm and welcoming, his smile kind and hopeful. And you are hungry. So, you take it with reluctance, careful not to brush his hands.

"Dick wanted me to bring it to you." Gar states.

"Thanks." The word is quiet as you rest the plate on your lap.

Gar watches as you seem disinterested. Dick told him you were not too talkative and seemed scared, that’s why he asked Gar to bring it in. Rachel is kind of course but Gar tends to be a little warmer and Jason is an unpredictable smartass. Gar seems like the best shot to find out information and he knows that’s why he’s here. But, he feels a bit bad for it and he kind of just wants you to eat.

"There's, uh, there's different kinds of pizza in the kitchen. If you wanted something else I could--"

"It's okay." You offer him a gentle laugh. His words were rambled as if he were nervous and you think it’s kind of sweet. "Cheese is fine." You pick the slice, Gar sticking his hands into his pants pockets.

He watches her for a few seconds, noticing the marks on your wrists, brows furrowing. The marks look like they're ligature marks. The very middle is a brighter color as if to have been rubbed raw. A sting punches Gar's heart and he moves his eyes to the TV, not wanting to look at any more injuries you might have. He’s seen enough for today.

"Oh, I love this movie!" Gar gushes, watching as the goonies walk through a cave, trying to escape the Fratellis.

You glance over to him, barely turning your head. "Yeah?" You ask before taking a bite of your pizza.

"Have you never seen it?" Gar asks, looking back to you, ready to start rambling about it.

He loves movies, especially classic. Movies and video games, that’s how he killed his time at Caulder House and that’s how he kills a lot his time here when Dick isn’t having them train. He likes the adventures the characters get to go and the ones he gets to partake in for video games. Being hidden away like a dirty secret, it was the only way for him to have some type of adventure and the love of movies and video games grew. He could talk for hours on end about them.

"No?" You chuckle softly, finding the excitement in his voice amusing. "Looks old."

"1985, Steven Spielberg." Gar beams.

"Oh, okay so you know the movie." You chuckle, chewing your lip and it feels so casual with him.

Maybe it's just because he brought you food. Or that he seems the same age as you and he looks non-threatening, especially with the green hair. He also just seems ready to talk about anything which you thinks is a little funny. And he's not asking you any questions about who you are or what you can do. On top of that, he’s not looking at you the way Dick was, with some sort of expectation of something. Maybe that’s just Dick’s face, but it’s like he expected you to just talk and talk about what happened. You don’t want people to expect something from you anymore and Gar doesn’t. He just likes the movie.

"D-did you w-wanna watch it?" You raise the question, eyeing him from the corner of your eye. It’s been awhile since you’ve had contact with other people, let alone someone your own age who just wants to talk about a movie.

"Really? Yeah!" Gar jogs around the bed, going to the chair that's by the windows and pulling it closer to your bed. "Cool." Gar bounces in his seat. There’s a reason he has this poster hanging in his room, he will watch it at any given opportunity.

You laugh at the boy who's a little too excited to watch a movie but it's kind of nice. "I like your hair." You say quietly.

"Oh, uh, thanks." Gar smiles softly at you. "Oh watch this, Data has awesome gadgets." Gar's attention goes back to the screen as you watch Data's shoes up from the back, oil spilling from the heels.

"Well, that's cool." You raise your brows, finding it interesting.

"Right?!" Gar exclaims. “He even has a winch attached to him!” Gar says. “But, that’s later, sorry, don’t wanna spoil it.” Gar looks down for a second and then back to the screen.

“No, that’s really cool.” You nod at him. “I liked the zipline between their houses.” You let out a laugh. “I actually think my mom would have killed me if I tried that but it was sick.”

“Yeah, right? Dick should let us put in a zipline.” Gar looks back at you, the excitement etched across his face.

The two of you sit and watch more of the movie while you finish the pizza. You look to him every so often, subconsciously making sure he isn't planning anything or looks like he might be ready to do something fucked up. It's as if you’re fully prepared for him being nice to turn out to be some type of act but instead, he just keeps his eyes on the screen and points out fun little facts he has about the movie when the scenes come on. It's a little confusing for you. You don't really understand why he'd be in here over a movie unless he was told to. It’s nice, of course, but Dick was a bit persistent which makes you wonder if that’s why Gar came in here in the first place.

Gar looks back at you, catching you look at him. He lets out a sigh, looking back to the movie and the smile falls. "You, uh, you wanna know why I'm here, huh?" He looks back to you.

You scrunch your face. "Kind of." You shrug, watching Gar grow defeated. "I-I don't mind....you in here. I-I just don't...d-don't know why you are." Your eyes are slightly narrowed.

"Dick asked me to see if I could get you to talk." Gar confesses. He’s gotten you to say more than Dick did so he didn’t see a point in hiding it. Maybe honesty will get them a little further.

"Mmm, yeah that tracks from the two minutes I've known him." You roll your eyes.

"Well, uh, in his defense, you did burn him." Gar slows his words down as he looks at you again.

You shrug, looking your hands on the blanket. It's a little bit of shame flowing through your veins. If Dick really was just trying to help and your head told you something different, that's really an issue. You wouldn't want to hurt anyone that was really trying to help you. You’ve just spent so much time in the defensive mode it's like your mind forgot what it's like to shut it off for a minute.

"How'd you do it?" Gar asks carefully.

"Mm, nice try." You shake your head at him, appreciating the effort but it’s still a no for you.

Gar shrugs, looking back to the TV. Having powers can be dangerous and Gar knows that so maybe you knowing you’re not alone will help. "I can turn into a tiger. If you're worried about sounding like you're a freak or--"

"Sorry, did you say...tiger?" You question, your voice nearly yelling.

"Yeah." Gar laughs. "I guess, it's uh, kind weird." He hangs his head a bit.

"What? That's fucking awesome. How do you do it?" Your words all slur together as you sit up, crossing your legs and leaning forward.

Gar laughs as he watches as you get excited. The only one who's ever seemed interested in it, kind of like this is Rachel. It's making Gar feel incredible and powerful. "I don't know. This doctor cured me from a mysterious disease. This was one of the side effects." Gar gestures to his head. "Turning into a green tiger."

"That's the coolest thing I have ever fucking heard in my life. Can I see?" You forget every ounce of suspicion you should have in this unfamiliar place but how many times do you run into someone who can turn into a tiger? Batman has cool gadgets and a cool car and Superman can fly but neither of them can turn into an animal. Turning into an animal is basically the coolest thing in the entire world.

"Maybe...." Gar pauses, a grin tugging at his lips. He's not so sure Dick would be happy if he decided to transform just because you asked. "So, what about you?"

You sigh and if he's gonna tell you, maybe you can tell him something. Turning into a tiger is still a power. "I can produce acid with my hands." You flip your palms up, gesturing toward Gar but not too close. Your palms glow a fluorescent green. "I can control how much and how strong it is." The green fades as you put your hand back down in your lap.

"That's awesome." Gar's brows knit together. "Have you been like that your whole life?"

You shakes your head, the mood shifting in the room. "No, something new. But, uh, we're not gonna talk about that."

"Okay." Gar gives you a side smile, accepting that he got an answer.

He doesn't really like to push people for answers anyway. He knows the only reason Dick as him to come here is because Gar is the most likely get something out you. Jason is....an asshole and would likely call you a freak. Rachel doesn't really have a lot of control with her powers so if something happened, that probably wouldn't end well. Gar was really Dick's best option in trying to get any answer of you and Gar does want to help. He helps people. He'd say it's one of his better qualities.

You let out a sigh, watching Gar get back into the movie. "I'm-I'm gonna have to like...talk to him, aren't I?"

Gar looks back at you, pursing his lips with a shrug. "Yeah, but hey, he's really not a bad guy. He can help. He won’t force you to talk, but it’s not a bad idea."

You scoff, seeing flashes of the last night you spent on the streets of Gotham. "Yeah, you know the last person who told me that...." You pause, seeing Gar's eyes soften. "Well, I ended up here." You gesture a hand over your face, knowing it can't look pretty by the sense of the throbbing. "So."

"I'm sorry." Gar says softly. "For whatever you went through."

"Thanks." You say quietly. "Is there anyway I can....borrow a hoodie or something? It's...cold." You pause and you’ve always been good at deflecting.

He nods. "Uh, yeah, yeah. I can grab you one." He stands up quickly, moving to the doorway. "I'll be right back." He smiles sweetly at you before leaving, jogging down the hallway.

Gar jogs to his room, rummaging through his clothes, looking for an oversized hoodie. He could have asked Rachel because he knows Rachel has to have something, too but he almost worries that Rachel will go bring it herself. It's obvious you don't really want to talk to anyone and Dick asked him to do it. He wasn't even supposed to actually leave you alone until Dick told him to. He's never been very good at staying put when he's told to. Call it a flaw. So, he goes through his clothes quickly and finds a gray zip-up hoodie.

"Gotcha." Gar says triumphantly before quickly turning around.

"What are you doing?" Dick asks with exasperation, arms crossed as he stands in the doorway.

Gar's eyes widen. "Uh, hey, Dick. I was just grabbing Y/n a hoodie. She asked."

"Didn't I tell you not to leave her alone?" Dick questions but his tone isn’t mad or upset and Gar nods. "It's alright." Dick shakes his head and offers Gar a gentle smile. "Just trying to help?"

"Yeah." Gar nods slowly. “I feel bad for her.”

"I'll bring it to her." Dick holds out a hand and Gar hands over the hoodie. "Did you find anything out?"

"She can produce acid from her hands. They turn green so I guess it can be obvious." Gar explains, feeling a little bad about it since you obviously don't want him to know but Gar isn't going to lie to Dick. "That's really it, though."

"Good work. Thank you." Dick says with a closed, half smile.

"You're welcome." Gar says, not exactly pleased about it.

Dick leaves Gar in his room, heading back to you. While Gar was talking with you, Dick came up with a plan. He has to find out what's going on. So, he's just going to try and make friends with you. Surely, you seeing that Gar is just another kid and is happy and healthy should help. He'll try to level with you. Not push you or badger you, just level.

You catch a glimpse of Dick coming through the doorframe caring a grey hoodie and you just shake your head. You aren't sure what you expected. Is it too much to ask that you just doesn't want to do talk to this Dick guy?

"Gar was bringing this to you. I stopped him." Dick says, offering the hoodie to you as you narrow your eyes at him.

Everyone always has an ulterior motive. You’re trying to figure out what his could possibly be. Taking in kids who need help? Who have powers? If that's what he's doing, is he building a team of teenage weapons? Is he powered, too? Does he not think it's a little bit weird? But you’re cold and take the hoodie from him.

"Acid, huh?" Dick asks, walking to the front of your bed, your eyes following him still narrowed. "How much control do you have?" Dick asks.

Your brows raise, looking side to side. What a weird fucking question. "Uh...I-I don't...I don't know. A lot, I guess?" You pause, watching him carefully. "Why?"

"I'm just wondering. If you're going to stay here, it's best for me to know." Dick explains and he's so calm despite the fact you burned him.

Stay? You don't know these people, why would you stay? Is that something that people do? Just stay with complete strangers in hopes they aren't serial killers or something? What if they're all a group of serial killers?

"Why would I stay?" You challenge.

Dick shrugs. "Do you have anywhere to go?"

You chew the inside of your cheek, pulling the sleeves of the hoodie over your hands. "No." Your voice is broken, as you dodge looking at Dick.

That's a fair point. You don't have anywhere to go. The only place you’ve ever known is Gotham and that basement. That's it. You don't know anyone in the city or have a phone to call anyone back in Gotham, not that you want to really. At least in Gotham, living on the streets wasn't easy but it was familiar. You knew the cars to break into, the stores to rob and get away with it. You knew where all the cameras were and the GCPD shift schedule. But, this is San Francisco and you are clueless.

"I know it seems..." Dick pauses for a second as he leans against the wall behind him. "Scary maybe?" He pauses again, you looking up to him. "But, really, I just wanna help."

You think about it for a few seconds. This is the most comfortable you’ve been in a year. You’re on high alert and you don't think your brain will ever rest but you’re warm, in a bed, watching a movie. You had pizza. You can't remember the last time you had pizza. And you got all this by not robbing anyone or squatting. Maybe a night or two couldn't hurt.

"O-okay." You say quietly.

"Yeah?" Dick offers a side smile, surprised you said okay. "Did you want to stay here?"

"Um...if that's...okay." Your words are soft and unsure. "As long as you're not gonna like....kill me, I guess."

Dick chuckles softly, looking to the floor and back to you. "We're not gonna kill you."

"Well, that's great then." You shrug, tugging at the sleeves again. "Um...what about the others? Do they have powers?" You ask before continuing. "Gar said he can turn into a Tiger so...."

"Yeah, he can." Dick confirms it and catches the smile wanting to split your face. "Rachel, she has powers. We're still trying to figure them out. Then there's Jason, don't mind him." Dick warns with a grin. "You'll get used to him but he doesn't have powers. He's pretty good at combat, though."

You nod, as if to be accepting what he's saying. "So, you just...pluck kids off the street or?"

"For someone who doesn't answer a lot of questions, you sure have a lot of them." Dick offers a light-hearted chuckle.

You tilt your head with a shrug. "I-I, uh, haven't, uh." You furrow your brows. "Haven't had much contact with anyone really. In a while." You suck in a breath. “I am also just an inquisitive person.”

Dick nods. "Rachel found me, actually. She needed help, I didn't want to help but..." He pauses thinking back to the whole mess that unfolded. "I couldn't just leave her on her own."

"Now you want to help?"

Dick nods once more. "Yeah, she doesn't have anyone else. I lost my parents so I get it. I didn't have anyone either until someone decided to reach out."

You nod slowly, grasping it now. It's like a passing of the kindness kind of thing. Someone helped him as a kid, showed him some of the greatest kindness so now he's out here doing the same. Assuming what he's saying is all true, that is.

"What about Gar and Jason?"

"Gar was with Rachel, we got separate and he helped her. Wanted to come with and he didn't have a place that he felt like he belonged. Jason....well, he needs more guidance. He's not really allowed to go back to being who he was yet. I took him in."

Your eyes narrow with suspension again. "Is he like a bad person or something?" The way he talks about Jason compared to the others is a little weird. He speaks highly of Rachel and Gar but seems to have a harder time doing that with Jason. There is some sort of history there that you are very intrigued about.

"No," Dick answers quickly with a shake of his head. "He's just a little reckless."

"Ahh." You say quietly, knowing that being reckless tends to be a little fun but also understanding the consequences. If it weren't for recklessness, you'd still be in Gotham. "So, what now then?"

"I can show you around, show you to a room that'll be yours if you’re feeling up for it."

"I'll have a room?" You ask with a scoff. "How fucking big is this place?"

Dick laughs. "It's pretty big."

"Sweet." You sit up fully, crossing your legs. "Then what?"

"Do you have other powers?" Dick asks, feeling like maybe he'll get an answer.

The other one isn’t a big deal, really. It doesn’t hurt anyone and will maybe just protect you. To you, right now, it doesn’t seem like not telling him is really going to be much benefit to you anyway but you also doesn’t know exactly how to explain it.

“Uh...” Your brows furrow as you search for words. “If...someone tries to....hit me or attack me,” You start. “I get this intense throbbing in the back of my head and I just....know where they’ll come from.” You explain.

“Combat clairvoyance, how long have you had that?” Dick asks, finding it interesting.

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s a new thing, like the acid.”

“Okay,” Dick nods his head. “Anything else?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” You answer honestly. Maybe you have more, maybe not. You’re hoping with everything in you that you don’t have some hidden power, one is more than enough for you and you’re stuck with two.

"Okay then." He seems satisfied with answers, choosing not to push to find out how you got your powers for right now. "Want the tour or did you want to rest some more?"

"Tour." You say without even thinking about it. You’ve been in the same room for months and you’re tired of being locked in one room. You want to see everything.

"Alright." Dick chuckles. He walks to the side of your bed and offers you an arm to help you.

"I'm fine." You shrug him off, pulling the blanket off of you, revealing your black leggings that have holes at one of the knees and one on the other shin. "Are there like....clothes I can borrow?" You ask as you get out of the bed carefully, your legs feeling a bit weak as you stand.

"I’m sure we’ll find something. Hoodie is Gar's though." Dick explains.

"Cool." You flash him a smile. "He's cool."

"Yeah, he's a good kid." Dick smiles back at you as the two of you exit the room.

Dick leads you down the hallway and decides to start with the kitchen and living area. It's right in the middle of the tower and figured that might be a good place to start. You take in the open-concept rooms. You’re relieved it's not all white. You remember watching HGTV back in Gotham and everything was always white. It's like these grown adults had a problem with color. Who would want to live in a place that looks like a hospital? But this tower isn't like that. It has a dark color palette. The floors, the walls, all dark but big floor-to-ceiling windows line the back wall of the two rooms giving the place plenty of light. A large fireplace sits in the center of the living room, not against a wall. You like it a lot more than you would ever openly admit.

"Kitchen, living room." Dick gestures a hand out, letting you walk in front of him to look at the rooms.

"It's nice." You say, looking back at Dick. "You an interior designer or something?" You quip, looking to the windows, seeing the city.

Dick just looks at you, looking unamused before a smile cracks across his face. "No," He scoffs. "I didn't decorate the place."

"Mmm, a shame. It would give you at least a point in my book." You look back to him and give a sarcastic grin.

"You're keeping a point system?" Dick’s brows riase, unsure if you’re joking or not.

"You don't?" You scoff with a chuckle.

It was a sarcastic comment but you’re not gonna let that go. You'd keep the bit going for as long as you know Dick now. He's stuck with a point system.

"What's next?" You ask.

"Follow me." Dick walks past you, leading you down a dark hallway.

You follow closely, looking at the rooms you pass which all have doors closed. The spacing of the doors indicated they're all large rooms. You couldn't tell what the housing market is like, something you never could even in Gotham but you'd have to bet this is at least a million-dollar house, apartment? Whatever it should be called. It's so fucking big.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you reach what seems to be a training room, a boy with black hair hitting a punching bag off to the side. You take in the area and are actually seriously questioning if Dick is turning kids into weapons. What would the point be to have a room like this if not? And there is already a kid working out so it’s being used. Maybe it’ll be beneficial to you. Learn a few things and escape when the time is right.

"This is the training room. When you're able, you can train here with everyone else." Dick explains, putting his hands in his pockets as you stand at the open sliding doors.

The boy turns around hearing Dick talk. He looks at you with bruises and cuts across your face. He grimaces at the sight of you. Gar told him Dick brought you home but he didn’t think it was that bad.

"What the fuck happened to your face?" He asks with a scoff.

"What the fuck happened to yours?" You strike back, Dick doing a double take with the fire in your words.

"My face is fucking perfect, fuck you." Jason sneers, he was just asking a simple question. He didn't expect for you to have a comment back.

"Yeah, who the fuck says? Fuck you." You sneer back at him.

The immediate question of your face just caught you off guard. It seemed a bit rude, the way he asked and you’re not gonna let him talk to you like that. But, by the way his nostrils flare, you can tell that challenging him will be fun.

Dick watches the two of you, not even sure exactly what he expected from Jason but this should have been it.

"Hey," Dick shakes his head.

"She started it." Jason pouts his glove-covered hand at you.

"You asked what happened to my face!" You defend. “And my name is y/n.”

"Because you look like someone fucked you up. Maybe get in here and spar a bit, it'll save your face next time if you’re that offended." Jason snips.

"Jason, right?" You look to Dick and Dick nods.

"Heard about me, huh?" Jason gains a cocky grin as he walks closer to you.

"That tracks." You nod with the roll of your eyes. If he’s like this all the time, you get why Gar and Dick have both said you’d get used to him. But, what they don’t know is that people like Jason are always really fun to fuck with.

"What?" Jason asks, the smile still wide, almost expecting everyone to talk highly of him.

"Just heard you're really good at combat." You smile at him, playing into his ego and deciding to have a little bit of fun with him.

"Yeah, maybe I can show you a thing or two." Jason looks you up and down.

"I can show you." You do the same, mimicking his actions.

Dick stands there a bit in shock as to what is happening right now. You blatantly refused to talk to him and warmed up a bit to Gar. But, had he known introducing you to Jason would get you talking, he might have just done that first. What is even going on? And why are you humoring him?

"Can we not--" Dick starts but Jason cuts him off.

"Look, babe, it looks like you're the one who needs help." Jason offers and you can't tell if this is him being nice or if he's trying to get laid or what but whatever the fuck it is, it is not working. But, either way, you know this is going to be fun.

"Okay, I'll bet you, you can't fucking touch me." You challenge him while Dick snaps his attention to you. Did you suddenly forget you were injured?

"You need more rest. Let's continue--"

"What's the bet?" Jason plays along.

You smirk at him, looking him up and down again. "Mmm, I don't know. If you can't land a single hit in thirty seconds, you owe me whatever I decide. If you win...."

Dick is standing there, asking the universe "Why him?" what did he do for this? He was just trying to help and now he's here with two of the same people. Of all people you had to be like, it had to be Jason. Can't be another Gar or Rachel. No, you have to be like Jason because Dick can never catch a break.

"I'll let you let off this time." Jason offers, catching Dick by surprise.

"Deal." You stick out your hand, Jason catching a glimpse of the mark on your wrists, pausing. "Don't make it fucking weird."

"Deal." Jason widens his eyes before sticking a hand out.

“Be careful.” Dick warns them.

Normally, Dick would step in and stop this. You’re injured and shouldn’t be doing anything really but he is pretty interested to see the combat clairvoyance in action. Jason is reckless and hot headed but he’s not violent and Dick doesn’t believe Jason will go full out. So, Dick doesn’t stop you as you walk to the middle of the floor, straight face.

"Come on, babe, let's see what you got." You mock Jason and Jason wastes no time in moving towards you.

Jason takes a swing, you dodging him making him miss, ignoring the pain your side. Your ability to mess with someone like Jason should also be a superpower. You will do everything in your power to not let any of your injuries interfere with this. Jason stutters for a second before trying again, missing. You give him a side smirk with the raise of your brows, taunting him. Jason huffs before putting more power into it, going faster this time and you put your arm up just in time to block him.

"What the fuck?" Jason mutters, throwing punches and trying to kick you while you keep dodging and blocking him.

It's fun for you and you know nothing about combat but you remember seeing videos of Batman and Robin fighting. He reminds you of them, the way he fights. If those two are any indication, he really must be good at it. But, this is also unfair to him and you think it's funny. You like how he's growing more and more frustrated, nostrils flaring with every miss. Jason takes another swing, right for the center of your face, you catch his fist, less than an inch from your nose.

You look past his fist, not letting him go, deciding to mess with him a little more. "You're kind of cute, ya know?" Jason narrows his eyes but his arm doesn't relax. He knows the tactic and he’d be lying if he didn’t find it a bit amusing that you tried it. "Nothing?" You raise a brow.

"Nice try." Jason yanks his fist away, going to the floor to trip you but you’re just quick enough for him to miss.

"Okay, that's enough." Dick walks to the middle with you, tired of watching and if this goes on any longer, he knows he'll be hearing from Jason about it. It's never something he wants to deal with.

“I won, thanks for that.” You beam at Jason. “Needed it.”

“You're just not playing fucking fair." Jason yells behind Dick.

"So, you thought it was fair to try hitting me, someone who has no combat experience and is injured but it's not fair for me to not tell you that I can avoid being hit?" You question and watch Jason become flustered.

"You started it." Jason groans and you can't help but find it funny.

You completely understands why Dick and Gar weren't very vocal about Jason. You get it now. He's definitely something else. Most people would probably find him annoying and an asshole, which he is, but you find it amusing more than anything. Plus, he looks like he carries damage. Something about the way he moves, the lost and distant look in his eyes. It's interesting.

"Yeah," You grin with a shrug. "And what are you gonna do about it?" You taunt, a wide, challenging smile on display.

Jason's brows furrow as he jerks his head back. He's never had anyone challenge him like this before and he's not a fan of it. He takes the same shit he dishes out but it is kind of fun going back and forth about it. But he really doesn't get it. No one comes out of the gate swinging like that.

"We're gonna continue the tour if that's okay with the two of you." Dick looks between you, his voice more a statement rather than an actual question.

"Okay." You offer him an apologetic smile.

"Yeah, I got shit to do." Jason mumbles, walking back to where he was when you first walked in, eyes trailing on you a little longer than he really wanted.

You smirk to yourself, watching Jason walk back to the punching bag. It's weird because he's kind of an asshole but something about him feels like home. Maybe it's because he isn't tip-toeing around you or offering you some weird type of kindness that makes your skin crawl. He doesn't look sympathetic and look at you with pity. Not after you talked away. Dick and Gar do though, it makes you shift and you hate the uneasiness about it.

You follow Dick back down another hallway decorated with lights and a few memorabilia-type things. It gives you the impression this isn't some new superhero thing, despite the younger ages of the other kids. It looks like this place was lived in for awhile, haunted by previous heroes.

"This is your room." Dick opens a black door, sitting in between two other rooms and showing you inside.

It's plain and simple. A TV sits on an entertainment center against the left-hand wall. Large windows line the first half of the room and a bed sits against the right wall. It's as if the room is literally divided into two parts, a living area and a sleeping area. Two small backless shelving units divide the two areas. A dresser is next to the left-hand side of the door, a turntable and a lamp sitting on top. They're empty and so is a bookshelf next to the left side of the bed. It's so empty.

"We can go tomorrow to get you some clothes and a few things if you want." Dick offers as you walk into the room fully taking it in.

"Uh..." You stutter, turning around to face him. "I-I don't have...money?"

Dick smiles gently. "It's okay. I got it."

Your eyes narrow at him and you cannot figure out why he would do this. "Okay...why? Like why are you doing this? Everyone has a motive so what's yours?"

Dick shrugs a shoulder, putting his hands in his pockets. "The people here are special and so are you. It's hard being out there and being special."

"So what makes you special then?"

"Same as Jason."

"Ahh." You nods your head once. Interesting. "What if I don't wanna fight?" You ask.

Dick shakes his head. "You don't have to, you just have to learn to control your powers. It's up to you if want to learn more. But you'll be safe here."

You feel like this is some type of dream about to turn into a nightmare. You’ve had a dream before where someone comes to rescue you from the dreadful and dreary basement but then they turn. They find out about your powers or they're just as fucked up as her foster dad and they just use you. An endless string of torture. This doesn't feel like that, not really, because this isn't a dream. You’re wide awake but it's hard to believe.

"Okay." You say, turning back around and walking to the TV.

"You can stream from it if you want, it's connected to the Wi-Fi already with the accounts, like the TV in the other room." Dick explains.

You look back to him. "Cool." Your voice is quiet and you always just liked to watch TV and movies.

It wasn't a coping mechanism or some type of escape from the hell for Gotham. Some people find fun in sports or art or social media, your thing was TV. You just found it fun to see the stories play out in front of your eyes, not reading, just watching. A part of you think it might sound dumb if you said TV was one of the things you missed the most.

"Well," Dick sighs. "I'll leave you be then. If you need anything, I'll be around and so will everyone else. Gar is to the right and Jason left, Rachel is across the hall." Dick explains.

You nod, still just looking around unsure how to even feel about being here. Is there a way you can plan an escape if shit hits the fan? Always have some type of escape plan. Anything can happen and you won't be captured again and held captive. But, Dick is really nice and there's a part of you that is certain if he were kidnapping kids and holding them here against their will, he would have let Jason go a long time ago.

"Uh....t-t-thank you." You stutter catching Dick right before he leaves the room. "For saving me."

"Don't mention it." Dick smiles at you, feeling good about the decision to help you. "Just don't burn me again."

"Yeah..." You scrunch your face. "Sorry."

"It's alright, get some rest." Dick says kindly before leaving you to yourself, shutting the door behind him.

Meanwhile, in the training room, Gar and Rachel have joined Jason. Rachel, thus far, is the only one who hasn't met you and she's curious. And if Dick is gonna bring another person so soon, all three of them feel like they need to talk about it. They should get a say if someone gets to join their little found family.

"What is she like?" Rachel asks.

"She's nice, seems scared though." Gar shrugs while Jason scoffs.

"She's a bitch." Jason walks over to the two of them. "And she's a freak."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You think everyone is a freak." Jason has also called her a freak on more than one occasion.

"She was nice to me." Gar shrugs, casually knowing it's not exactly easy to be nice to Jason even on a good day.

He's his best friend, of course, but he's not easy to get along with. It's kind of up to Jason and what kind of day he's had. Gar, on the other hand, is the easiest one in the tower to get along with. He's just nice to everyone even if they aren't nice to him.

"Did she tell you how and why she burned Dick?" Rachel asks, ignoring Jason as he takes a seat beside Gar.

"She can produce acid with her hands." Gar states, ignoring the groan leaving Jason. "She didn't say why."

"Maybe that's why Dick brought her, to help control her powers." Rachel offers.

"Maybe." Gar tilts his head with the raise of his brows, not really thinking that's what it is. "I think he just has a thing for picking up strays."

"I wasn't a stray." Jason scoffs in his own defense, the idea of Bruce sending him here still sour in his mouth.

Rachel glares at him, unamused while Gar just shakes his head and ignores him. "You could talk to her." Gar says. "She's only talked to us, maybe a girl will make her feel better about being here."

"Yeah," Rachel laughs softly. "There's too much testosterone here." Rachel looks to Jason. "Is that okay with you?" She asks mockingly, not actually asking for his opinion.

Jason shrugs, seemingly to have not gotten the sarcastic tone. "She is hot, ya know, besides the cuts and shit so yeah. Need something pretty to look at it."

"Gross." Gar grimaces.

"You're such a fuckboy." Rachel shakes her head, looking back to Gar.

"Hey, fuck you." Jason retorts. "All you do is stare at Gar, I want someone to look at."

"I do not!" Rachel fires back, cheeks tinting red.

Gar watches the two of them, shifting in his seat having never noticed if she did stare at him or not. He's hoping she knows they're just friends. He is not very good at letting people down softly, mostly because he trips over his words and makes everything worse by trying to spare their feelings.

"Right." Jason scoffs, getting back to his feet. "You're with me, right?" Jason looks to Gar. "About y/n?"

"Uh..." Gar tilts his head, forehead wrinkling not even wanting to get into this.

He thinks it's a little insensitive. Of course, it's exactly what he expects from Jason but he's not gonna get dragged into it. You just got here and you’re very clearly traumatized. He's not looking at you in any type of way besides with sympathy and empathy. Though he does think you’re pretty, even with the cuts and bruises Jason wants to so rudely dismiss but Gar won't say it. It's not his place or the time. Surely, they can let you settle in and let you just do your own thing. They don't need to be talking about you.

Jason shakes his head. "We gotta find out more about her though, right? Like who the fuck is she?"

"Does it matter?" Rachel counters.

"Yeah, man, I don't think it's up to us." Gar adds in.

Jason puts his weight to one leg. "What if she's like...here to kill us or some shit? Shouldn't we know?"

"Pretty sure Dick would have looked into that already." Gar states, eyes slightly narrowed at him.

Jason is paranoid and dramatic and over-enthusiastic about being a hero. Gar thinks it's the coolest thing that's ever happened to him, becoming a Titan. There are so few people who get to say they're a Titan and Gar is one of them. He's so excited to get out there and fight these big bad guys but not until Dick says they're ready. Jason, on the other hand, has the experience and doesn't think he even needs to be here. Gar can tell Jason is just hoping you will be part of a big bad plot.

"Did he tell you that?" Jason counters.

"He doesn't need to, Jason." Rachel grows more annoyed with Jason with every passing second.

"Come on, you wanna know, right? How she got her powers? Ended up here? Think it's some coincidence or some shit with Dick finding her?" Jason argues, looking directly at Gar knowing Gar won't be able to resist. "We can find out."

"Gar." Rachel says.

It's the way she said his name that he knows it's threatening but...Jason has a point. If Dick and you don't find out, no one else will know. He doesn't think Rachel will rat them out or anything. Jason is always just very persistent and he'll probably do it himself, if Gar is there and he gets caught, maybe Dick will go easier on him and they won't have to listen to it.

Gar sighs. "Fine but just to sure."

"Unbelievable." Rachel stands up. "You two are terrible. We shouldn't pry into someone else's privacy."

"What if there is someone though? Jason kind of has a point." Gar counters, still sitting on the ground. “I mean, you were being chased by people who wanted to kill you. Maybe it’s better if we find out just to be safe.”

"You don't have to come." Jason shrugs a shoulder, looking at Rachel.

"I wasn't going to. You two do whatever you want." She waves her hands in annoyance before heading to leave the training room. "I'm going to be normal and just talk to her." Rachel leaves the boys to themselves, knowing they won't be far behind to go to the computer.

Gar and Jason stay in the training room a little longer before making their way to the infirmary. They saw the cuts and Gar helped Dick clean them up so Gar knows they can get blood from the garbage to run your DNA. It's definitely an invasion of privacy that doesn't quite sit well with him but what if Jason is right? He's paranoid, sure, but what if Dick didn't look into you? What are they supposed to do? It can't hurt. Dick sometimes seems too trusting, he didn't really ask Gar any questions before letting him join the little group. If Dick is just waiting for you to start talking and you’re a part of something bigger, that would be very not good for any of them. That's the reasons he lists as to why this isn't some horrible thing they're doing.

"Y/n Y/l/n." Jason crosses his arms as they see your picture show up on the screen.

"Born in Gotham City." Gar says, sitting at the computer, matching the stare on the large screen before looking at Jason, then back to the screen. "Uh...let's see. Her mom was killed...by the Joker." Gar's voice grows sad and quiet, looking over to Jason knowing his dad was killed by Two-Face.

"Shit." Jason huffs, a sense of what one might describe as guilt comes over him knowing what it's like.

"Dad has a rap sheet for drugs." Gar looks back to Jason and then back to the computer, growing more uncomfortable with the similarities of the two of you. "She was arrested for breaking into cars, put into foster care. That's all there is." Gar reads it off before looking back to Jason.

Jason squints his eyes at the screen, knowing how close he was to being you and something in the pit of his stomach feels horrible for how he treated you. It makes him feel uneasy, knowing he could have been you had he just robbed the wrong car of the hubcaps, had you robbed the right one. It’s a reality check.

"Look up the guy." Jason says, hiding the uneasiness in his voice.

"Jerry Johnson, what a name." Gar mocks. "Uh....former scientist from Gotham."

Gar lets the words sit in his mouth. The thing about Gotham is that it really does breed special kind of people. The fucked up kind of special. Mr. Freeze, Scarecrow, Penguin, the Joker, the Riddler, what is happening in that city? It doesn't take much for Gar to figure that your powers didn't come from anything accidental, that you were some type of test subject your foster dad used. That explains a lot, your attitude toward Dick. The defensiveness. Gar wonders how he came out the other end not like that. He wasn't really an experiment but...it was some crazy scientists who thought Gar changing into a tiger was better than dying. It is but it's not always easy and he's not always a fan of it. It's hard to imagine how you might feel.

"Fuck, dude." Jason huffs, looking down to Gar. "Think that guy did that to her?"

Gar shrugs, not wanting to think of someone being victimized like that. Beat, tortured, chained up. It makes his stomach twist. "Maybe." Gar clears his throat. "We should...get out of here." He looks away from the computer.

"Yeah," Jason says quietly while Gar exits out of everything.

"It doesn't seem like she's the bad guy." Gar's voice is defeated and maybe a part of him was hoping you would be. It would give them something to do but this just got really sad, really fast.

"Guess not." Jason mutters and Gar can't tell if he's disappointed or just lost in his thought about it.

"You okay, dude?"

"Yeah." Jason gives him a grin. "Just fucked up."

Gar curls his lips in with a nod. "Yeah."

While the boys sit and figure out how they're supposed to handle this newfound information without letting you or Dick know how they found out, Rachel went to your room.

You’re in your room, sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and watching Zombieland. The movie's been out for a while but you’re so in love with it. There's zombies who don't just walk and eat people. They actually have speed and the characters aren't dumb. There are rules to surviving any type of horror movie and this guy in the movie just gets it. It's by far one of your favorite comfort movies. And you’re having a great time, just relaxing for the first time in a year. It's like you can almost breathe clearly again, wrapped in a blanket on a couch and in a warm home. But, then a knock sounds on your door and you’re reminded that you’re not alone.

You get up, taking the blanket with you. "Uh....hey?" You ask, seeing the girl with purple hair, dressed head to toe in black with a weird red gem in the center of her forehead.

"Hey," Rachel smiles softly. "I'm Rachel."

"Y/n." You offer, hand still on the door.

"I just wanted to come and meet you. I know you met everyone else." Rachel explains nicely.

You nod and you almost feel like an animal at a zoo but that's not Rachel's fault. It's like when someone new comes to school halfway through the school year and suddenly everyone wants to talk to them. They're like a new toy.

"Yeah, uh, yeah." You nod, sliding your hand off the door. "Did....you wanna come in?" You ask, not sure if you should or not. It all feels so bizarre.

"Sure." Rachel smiles softly, walking inside while you shut the door. "How do you like your room?" Rachel looks around at the empty place, wondering how you would decorate it.

"It's okay." You answer with a shrug. "Kind of boring, I guess."

"Dick will get you stuff to make it yours." Rachel explains.

"Right." You nod slowly before going back to your spot on the couch.

You don't have much else to say. You’re not actively trying to be standoffish. Rachel is just being nice but you don't even know how you’re supposed to talk to people and you’re truthfully tired and want to enjoy your movie. You just didn't want to sound like a bitch and tell Rachel to leave.

"What do you think about the guys?" Rachel asks, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, not getting too close to you which you really appreciate. Rachel figures talking about the guys might be an easy way to get you to warm up to her.

"Uh..." You furrows your brows and a smile creeps onto your face. "Gar's really nice." You say quietly. "Dick is okay, I guess. Jason's an asshole."

Rachel lets out a laugh. "I know! It's been just us for a month." Rachel leans her head back dramatically making you laugh. "You'll get used to him. Gar and Dick make it easier."

You shake your head. "I don't mind, actually." You huff with a smile, earning yourself a surprised and confused look from Rachel. You shrug. "He's funny to fuck with. He gets all mad and I think it's funny."

"What'd you do?" Rachel asks, intrigued why someone would find it funny but also kind of wants to see someone actually get under Jason's skin and not be bothered by whatever ignorant comment he'll say.

"I asked him what was wrong with his face when he asked about mine then I challenged him to a bet. He lost." You hold your up proudly.

"What was the bet? Teach me. He bugs me." Rachel says dramatically, her eyes wide.

"I can do this thing," This time when you explain it, your head is held with pride and confidence. "I can sense when someone is gonna attack me, told him he could hit me and he couldn't."

"That's awesome! Can I be there next time, please?" Rachel pleads.

Rachel and Jason haven’t gotten along since her dad possessed him. They got along fine when they met in Chicago but then things got a little rocky. Rachel actually doesn’t like not getting along with him, especially living under the same roof, but she can’t pinpoint exactly what it was that made him not like her. She’s tried to be nice but it never really gets her anywhere with him. So, seeing someone put Jason in his place sounds like a good time.

"Sure. I don't think Dick thought it was very funny." You let out a soft chuckle, warming up to Rachel. She is very nice.

"Gar will think it's hilarious. They spar together more than us and Gar puts up a good fight but Jason always wins." Rachel rolls her eyes.

"Gar doesn't seem like a fighter."

Rachel shrugs a shoulder. "He's not."

"Probably a good thing, he's cute." You blurt it out, shocked you actually said that out loud. "I have said too much."

"No, it's okay. He is." Rachel laughs softly.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" You backtrack. "Are you a thing?"

"No!" Rachel exclaims. "No, we're just friends. No one here is like a thing or anything."

"Oh, okay. That's a bit surprising. Though, I guess you wouldn't be into Jason." You joke.

"God, no." Rachel grimaces with the thought. "I'd rather die." Rachel says making you laugh. "Is that Gar's?" Rachel points towards the hoodie.

"Uh...yeah. He loaned to me. I asked for a hoodie because it's a little cold in here."

"That's really nice of him." Rachel offers a soft side smile.

"Yeah..." You tug the sleeves over your hands.

"Can I ask what happened to you?" Rachel asks carefully.

You shift in your seat. You’d love to go as long as humanly possible without saying anything about it. It's just traumatic. It's not even like it's a secret. It's just hard to talk about and you don't know these people at all. It feels like something more personal than to just go around and blasting it to complete strangers. If Dick makes you say something, you will but until then, you'd like to just tell them on your own time. Not when you’re asked.

"Uh...it's....a-a long story." You look to the TV and Rachel can see that a part of you just shut down with the question. It's obvious that it's bad but Rachel didn't think it would cause a distant reaction.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me or anything but if you want to talk about it, you can talk to me." Rachel's voice is quiet.

"T-thank you." You glance at her from the corner of your eye. "Uh...it's okay. I, uh, I just don't wanna talk about it yet." You shake your head.

"That's okay." Rachel smiles softly. "No pressure. We all have shit here." Rachel huffs with a laugh.

"I can tell." You whisper. "No offense." You say quickly. "You seem fine, actually but everyone else has....a vibe. Even Gar, feels like there's something going on. Jason can't be that big of an asshole without having trauma and Dick seems like he picks up teenagers off the street because of trauma."

Rachel laughs. "Yeah, pretty much." She lets out a sigh. "My dad is a demon who tried to kill me."

You furrow your brows, forehead wrinkling as you slowly turn to look at Rachel. "I'm sorry, what?"

Rachel nods. "Gave this as a trophy." Rachel taps the gem that's embedded to her forehead.

"Well..." You pause. "What the fuck?" You laugh. "It's not funny...I just....did not think I'd hear that."

"Yeah," Rachel laughs softly. "I didn't expect to find out my dad was a demon. I guess it explains a lot." Rachel scrunches her nose.

"Yeah, meeting the parental figure that fucked shit up can sometimes have answers even if it's not the ones you want." You say quietly, feeling Rachel staring at you. "Long story, dad's an addict. Got the answers I didn't want but needed."

"Jeez." Rachel sighs.

"Yeah," You say, realizing you’re saying too much and figured this was enough for the night. "Hey, uh, I'm like...really tired." You tug the sleeves of the hoodie over your hands again. "Can I get some sleep?" You ask slowly, trying not to sound harsh.

"Yeah, of course!" Rachel says quickly, getting up from her spot. "I'll see you tomorrow." Rachel smiles at you. "You can trust us, just so you know. We're a family here."

"Thanks." You answer before Rachel heads for the door and leaves.

You almost hate to admit but you think maybe you could fit in here. It's a bunch of people with trauma trying to make something work, maybe even work through it. You actually like everyone that lives here from the small interactions you’ve had. Everyone seems genuine, even if one of them is an asshole, at least it's genuine. None of them seem to be here being held against their will. Rachel and Gar made you feel comfortable. The door isn't locked and you can leave when you want. Something about it still feels too good to be true but for this moment, just this moment, you let yourself sit in peace with the hope that it's all going to be okay again.

next chapter

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Tag list: @italiana-20 // @fairyofshampooF----

#gar logan #jason todd #gar logan x reader #garfield logan x reader #jason todd x reader #gar logan fanfic #gar logan fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #caving in

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fishing-lesbian-catgirl · 8 months

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genuine question: how can we use this website to be less annoying to others?

Glad to give my thoughts. Like I said, I’m very petty and most of this stuff probably isn’t as big a deal to most people. Anyway I’m bad at being brief so I added a readmore. Here are my personal rules:

1: Don’t add anything to the body of a post unless you have something that you really feel will add some degree of value, meaning, humor, context, or at least something to people further down the reblog chain.

This is the most important rule. Adding something to a post makes it longer, it makes it so everyone who reblogs it in the chain after you has to see it. If you have nothing to add but “wow” or “holy shit” you are lengthening the post for no reason. Those reactions can easily go in the tags.

This is also the reason I think gimmick blogs are so annoying. It’s one thing for a “heritage post” blog to reblog things related to its respective gimmick. Simply reblogging them puts that thing on their blog, so anyone looking at it or following them because they want to see “heritage posts” will see it. But they go a step further and add “X heritage post” for no real reason other than to brand the post as theirs.

When I see a post that I like that has useless additions that take up space while adding nothing I get mildly annoyed and go to the reblog of the person who reblogged it before they did just to trim the useless comments off. But if that person deactivated then I can’t trim the comment. Tumblr lets you trim to the original post without any of the additions regardless of if op is deactivated or not with the little X on the reblog menu, but only to the original post. It’s better than nothing though

This whole point is, to me, a bit of tumblr etiquette that makes it so you don’t have to see unrelated comments from someone you don’t follow just because they thought to add a pointless comment way up the chain. This definitely is petty, but if you remember how the old tumblr formatting worked, this was extremely important because each addition took up even more screen space with the line to the next persons url and squished the original post into smaller and smaller spaces. So that’s probably why I feel so strongly about it even though it doesn’t matter as much anymore.

2: The tags are mostly your free space to say what you want, BUT try and respect that OP will likely see them.

A LOT of communication done on this website is done through talking in the tags. That’s not what they were originally meant for but that doesn’t matter anymore. People will likely be looking in their notes to see tags by their mutuals.

The original poster can and will see every tag on a post, unless they delete the post or mute notifications. Mute notifications seems like it doesn’t work, but that’s because it only mutes future notifications on the post, the tags in your notes before muting will still be there regardless

This is to say that in most situations, if the op is someone like me who uses their notes to communicate with their mutuals and others in their communities, your irrelevant tags might also be there and annoy them. So use courtesy when tagging. Thankfully tumblr cuts off tags after a certain point on the notes page but still keep it in mind. I go overboard writing mini essays in the tags all the time, and while I do think that is a little annoying I do it anyway so I can’t blame people.

3: Keep blorbo tagging to a minimum if you can help it.

This is probably my most controversial stance, but blorbo tagging can be really annoying in certain circumstances.

The biggest offender to me are tagging make characters on posts about women. I don’t care that you think he’s your babygirl or whatever, I find this extremely annoying. I get it, sometimes a post fits your character really closely but the gender is wrong, but usually it doesn’t and they’re just doing this on any post even slightly related to a single aspect of a male character they care about. Often because most tumblr fandom people couldn’t be bothered to care about female characters if that was the only way to escape a saw trap alive.

There are other blorbo tag type things that annoy me, and again I’m a petty bitch, so take it with a grain of salt. But to me this one is a little personal (for lack of a better word). One of my first big posts on this blog was about wizard girls leaning in to kiss and having the brims of their hats get in the way. I didn’t mind the blorbo tagging about men that much, but they got less and less related to the post that it was annoying. The last straw before I deleted the post (back when I didn’t realize mute notifications actually worked. It might not have at the time) was a tag about their male blorbos leaning in to kiss and their belt buckles got in the way???

Idk I just find blorbo tagging in general mildly annoying and only do it when the post is an extremely perfect fit for on the characters I care about. I often block people for blorbo tagging about characters from things I dislike, I’m petty and the block button is fun for me to press, so I do that often. :)

4: NOT EVERY POST IS ABOUT YOU!!!

If you see a post that isn’t about you or your demographics or gender or whatever, you really don’t need to make it about you. That will very likely annoy op, especially because no one would have anything against you if you went and wrote your own post inspired by whatever the post in question said.

Not every post about lesbians needs to be made about gay men. Not every post about trans women needs to be made about trans men. Not every post about women needs to be made about men. And probably most important:

Not every post needs to be made about white people!

I know you might be thinking how writing something in the tags about your experience as a white person relating to what op is talking about, but I promise you they don’t want to hear it from us. They almost certainly are seeing tags from other white people because for some reason we can’t seem to see someone posting about issues of racism without having either the “I’m sorry for being white” or “white devils advocate” voices appear in our heads, just ignore it. Bite your tongue and reblog or move on for the love of god stop pestering the op.

Obviously the lesbian, trans women, and women ones are the ones I see in my notes that are annoying. But I can’t pretend I haven’t seen other white people say some really unnecessary shit in the tags / haven’t seen posts by nonwhite people who are clearly annoyed about how we always make everything about us.

Remember, you can always write your own post!

5: OP didn’t “turn off replies”

This feels like something that wouldn’t happen that often, but multiple times when I’ve made even mildly controversial takes about like video games or whatever, people will either add in a reblog or send me an ask complaining that I “turned off replies because I was afraid of hearing them disagree” usually followed by them calling me a coward. It’s very simple, I have reply settings so that people I follow and people who have followed me for at least like a week can reply, that’s it. I don’t have replies from everyone on because most people outside of those categories I don’t care about their opinions and they are annoying. If you can’t reply, that’s probably why. And if they actually did turn off replies, that’s because they don’t want replies, especially from people like the ones I just described.

6: I actually don’t have a problem with spam reblogging

This might seem backwards given my other stances on things taking up unnecessary space like useless comments, but I really don’t mind spam reblogs. I frequently do it when I see art I really like or when there’s a post that really resonates with me. Yes, it is annoying! No, I probably won’t stop. I do it so I can’t judge other people who do too. I am trying to keep it to like 5 times at most though, any more is just overkill.

7: OP is a stranger, not your friend

This one applies basically everywhere on the internet, but unless the person who made the post is someone who is like a mutual or someone that’s you’ve interacted with a lot before, they’re probably a stranger. Don’t try to be “playfully rude” or overly familiar. It’s annoying and weird and you will get blocked.

8: If you’re sending an anonymous ask, remember that OP is not going to take you in good faith most of the time

A lot of anon asks aren’t meant to be malicious, but a lot of others are. Bait, hate mail, insults, you name it, there’s a very good reason people like me assume every anon is sent in bad faith for some purpose. If you are going to send an anon ask, try to make it clear that you genuinely just want to ask a question and that you aren’t trying to trick op into saying something you can use to write a callout post against her or whatever.

You did that in this very ask thing and that’s why I’m writing out this long post instead of deleting it or letting it rot in the inbox.

9: Prev Tags etiquette / “Peer Reviewed” Tags

The usage of “prev tags” is controversial, a lot of people have different opinions on it. But with all the changes they made last year that made it harder to see the tags of the person before the person who’s reblog you are viewing, I think prev tags etiquette has changed.

My personal rules for prev tags are to copy the tags into my own tags, and then follow them up with a tag that says “<- prev tags”. Unfortunately tumblr tags convert dashes into spaces for some reason so it ends up looking like “< prev tags”. I’m stubborn and don’t want to like use an emoji arrow though. Anyway, tumblr mobile conveniently allows you to copy the tags of the person you are reblogging from surprisingly easily which I appreciate.

Unlike previous tags, which stay in the tags and don’t turn into an addition to the post, “peer reviewed” tags as they are sometimes called do get added to the post permanently for the remaining blog chain.

The unfortunate truth about this website is that some people have bad opinions on what qualifies as being meaningful enough to be cemented as an addition to the post via “peer review”. As such, the phrase “how could you leave this in the tags 🤣” has essentially become another “you sir have won the internet 🤣”

The shitty part about that is sometimes there are good and meaningful additions in the tags that are worth being added to the post as a whole. But you can add someone’s tags to a post without saying “how could you leave this in the tags”. Anyway this one is more subjective and hard to define so I hope I got my point across at least somewhat.

Anyway, there are probably a few other rules I personally follow that I’m not thinking about right now, but just follow general internet etiquette and try to keep in mind that op is a person who will likely read whatever you type, that covers most things tbh! Thanks for reading if you somehow read this far. Hope this helped! If it didn’t, oh well, I did try and warn you I’m petty and have strong opinions about things that usually don’t matter afterall

#Cordelia’s rules for blogging #anon ask #long post #long post.#we don’t stil need to add the . to make it not get filtered do we?

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froshele · 1 year

Text

you know i wonder about reddit sometimes. i get why the refugees are so starstruck by tumblr culture now - i think it comes down to one single massive difference, that being how normal people are on average.

this sounds shocking, but let me explain - i think people can go on tumblr just to blog. a blog could be anything. meanwhile reddit is for to be right and mean about things, and i think sometimes it gets ugly on there.

I occasionally post in the ferret subreddit or in gaming console subreddits, and you wouldn't believe the mumsnet tier cattiness people are capable of about the most mundane things. I'm the worst in the universe public enemy #1 because my mill ferret won't do anything for love nor money unless it's malt paste, which is extremely bad for him. just the most evil and misinformed man in the world. satan in a skinsuit. vile fellow, etcetera. it's all fine for Me to abuse Mine, but people are righteous heroes for warning other people about the Malt Plagues. In my comment section on my post about the fact that the animal in question has a broken foot and is improving rapidly with hydrotherapy, which is obviously the doing of someone very evil who does not love him or at all have any good short term reason to offer unhealthy food (dude won't take anything else as reinforcement and they generally stop eating when in pain, never mind wanting to try new more nutritious meals).

For every one person who tells me "good luck transitioning your guy onto better rewards after his leg heals, cool that you're doing hydrotherapy for him" and "lol yeah the steam deck is a low end linux portable and its capacities were massively overhyped in advertising - you got got same as i did, lower your expectations massively dude" theres reams more notifications of people insinuating i'm an animal abuser and getting super up in arms about their beloved game console, which they admit is too unwieldy to hold up comfortably for everyone without enormous hands, but refuse to let someone slander because it's more to them than their mother is

now, tumblr also has corners where people are shitty and defensive of whatever their thing is, but you have to understand the difference is that the median tumblr user has enough emotional intelligence to understand that opinions are like dicks, sometimes a deranged person flashes theirs at you on the metro and you keep walking

on reddit even an average person with their penis out at the urinal can expect to receive people leering over their shoulder with weird shit about everything from their intellect to their capacity to love, based entirely on what the people think this person is like from the smell of their lunch (recent 5 posts) on their clothing. redditors, particularly the ones posting during american daylight hours, are professionals at constructing foaming mouthed takedowns they think sound incredibly intelligent and morally superior against completely normal people who just went online to ask a question or take the piss. it adds up, y'all.

by comparison, on tumblr you sometimes get a silly death threat or someone pearlclutching about you putting them in grave danger with a single anonymous post, but we all know they're not all that. this place really is paradise compared to that one. let the redditors frolic and gambol lol they're like lab chimps experiencing sun and grass (people being able to be normal about things they dislike) for the first time ever

#reddit #reddit to tumblr #cultural differences

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salmon404 · 2 years

Text

This is a horror story and a warning not to let your posts gets big, or else this shit happens

#I get a notification every single time someone adds shit #comment or reblog #and my notifications are so filled I can hardly see when one of my mutuals responds to one of my other posts

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elysianslove · 3 years

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hehe hello again !!! if you get to it, maybe 45 from hand holding + mattsun? m so in love with how you write him it seriously holds a special place in my heart, thank u loads loads in advance ! <33

hi hi hi!!! still not over what you wrote for me for samu it was so :(( i loved it so much so like thank you genuinely. much needed <3 and yes ofc i’d love to!! hope you like it mwah <3

more soft issei for the dash yay !

45. comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together with matsukawa issei <3

full prompt list!

the most defeated issei has ever felt is not with every loss he’s faced with his team, but neither was it a bad grade stamped on a paper, nor a bad day worsening with every hour. it’s the very moment he had sighed and painfully accepted the fact that he has a crush on you.

it’s infuriating, really, to put a label on it. at first he thought it was basic attraction— he liked your smile and he liked the way the school uniform hugged your figure and the way you twisted your hair between your fingers as your palm cupped your chin in class. it seemed to be just that, physical attraction, because he liked the feel of your body whenever you hugged him and he liked staring at the pictures you posted for a little too long. naturally, his body would react whenever you touched him, whenever you wore something a little special, whenever you made sure your lips were as red as cherries. he could live with that.

however, he could not live with the fact that he now craved to hear your laugh and that you were the one person he looked forward to seeing in the day. he could not live with knowing your smile was the last thing he thought of before bed and your notification was the first he searches for in the morning. his ears perk up at the mention of your name, his heart rate spikes at the sound of your voice. your touch alone is no longer the only thing that reddens his face and twists his tummy. it’s quite literally everything that you do, and it’s exasperating, genuinely.

he knows he’s in deep shit when someone points out a flaw that he could see as nothing else but a virtue of yours. how the hell could he see absolutely nothing wrong with you? nothing!

acceptance was delayed only because he knew there would be no turning back once he had admitted it to himself. it had been a long night of contemplation, of deciding whether he really liked you or he just found you attractive or he happened to enjoy your company or liked the attention you gave him— until he had asked himself a simple question.

would he want to kiss you?

and when he dreamt of your pretty lips on his, he woke up and buried his face in his pillow, screaming in frustration.

having a crush on you meant a lot of things, but most significantly, it meant not being able to sit by your side without feeling every inch of your presence by him. even if his eyes are on the textbook before him, he can still hear every noise you make, from the quietest sighs to the loudest groans of frustration. he can still make out every tiny movement you make, from the shake of your leg and the crack of your knuckles to the bite of your lip. he’s so hyperaware of you it drives him fucking insane.

tapping the pen against his book, he tries to focus on the questions before him, attempting to make proper use of the free period he had instead of leaving all his work to the last minute, as per usual. it’s unfortunate that it just so happened you share that same free period with him. or fortunate. he can’t decide.

“issei,” you gasp out lowly halfway through the class, and he struggles to not lose himself in the way his name sits so perfect on your tongue. instead, he hums, twisting his head to acknowledge you. once you have his attention, you continue and say, “your hands are so big.”

issei’s brows furrow, and he takes a moment to process (while trying not to think about the fact that you had been looking at his hands. why were you looking at his hands? were they not appealing? were they appealing?) before glancing down at his hand, and then at yours. “think yours are just small, doll,” he retorts, and you scoff.

“no, can’t be,” you disagree. the pen in your hand drops as you sigh, fidgeting in your seat till your body’s twisted to face him, one leg lifted and crossed on the chair. “look,” you add, and lift up your hand.

a question mark blooms in his brain. what did— you want him to do, exactly?

at the obvious confusion written across his features, you sigh, fixing him with a faux unimpressed stare, before reaching over to grab at his wrist. his skin burns where your hand touches him, and as you position his hand to lift it up straight, as if he were about to high five you, every single part of it goes numb. even as you let go, the feeling of you is imprinted and issei’s praying to anything holy that will listen that his face isn’t reddening as deep as he thinks it is.

after his hand is up the way you want it, your own reaches out again, and you press your palm against his. your hands are noticeably smaller, fingertips significantly lower than his, meeting just above where the lower lines locating the knuckles on his fingers were. your palm is also generally much smaller, and he thinks about how easily his hand could just make yours disappear so easy if he curled it into a fist.

so fucking cute, holy shit.

he’s going to die. this is how he goes. heart rate spiking to the point of death because his ridiculously cute crush thought comparing hand sizes would be a good idea.

“see?” you say, and issei’s blown away with how unaffected you seem to be. he really doesn’t think he can formulate a proper sentence at the moment. “your hands are big.”

“nah,” he finally manages, and does the unthinkable — before he can think it through properly, his fingers bend, curling in on the gaps between yours, before interlocking your hand with his. he was right: your hand is nearly swallowed by his. “yours are just tiny.”

he wants to say that you’re gawking, but you recover so quick he can barely believe it himself. “your hands are— warm, too,” you point out, fingers still locked with his as they lower and fall to between you. “are they always warm?”

his breathing is uneven as he attempts a nonchalant shrug, replying, “i’m not sure.”

you don’t speak anymore, neither do you look at him, eyes fixated below on where your hands are locked with his. with sudden movement, you twist on your chair, turning to face your book once more. it’s a little awkward, the position, and his wrist slightly aches, but he doesn’t want to be the first one to let go, not when you haven’t yet.

for a few moments, you stay like that, arm angled as weird as his, but eventually, inevitably, you unlink your fingers, shaking his grasp off. his heart sinks disappointingly for a second, until, without sparing him a glance, your hand reaches for his again, and you intertwine your hands once more, this time a lot more comfortably.

when his heart dances in his throat the way it always does around you, he accepts it with a lot more ease.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa fluff #mattsun x reader #mattsun fluff #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa issei fluff #sal’s fluff tag <3

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creatingnikki · 4 years

Text

What 2020 has taught me

1. Those things that seem like content for sci fi or pure fiction are actually things that can happen. To the entire world. Like a pandemic. And to you. Like a seizure.

2. Everyone is sad. Everyone is struggling. In different ways and in different measures. Makes no one special. But you still get to feel sad for yourself and be compassionate towards others. But it's also okay to draw boundaries because you're everyone too. Remember, not special? You're sad and trying to deal with it too.

3. Every job you have will not add value to your life. It will not teach you new things or give you people you'll want to stay in touch with. Sometimes some jobs will only be a season of your life. Even if the season lasts for over a year. It's okay.

4. You know how you thought picking a college and picking a major and picking your first job and picking a specific industry were all the career decisions you had to make? Yeah, no. It's never a one time thing. You could have a job as a marketing strategist for two years and then want nothing to do with it. And then you'll have to make another decision and work towards it. So I'd like to call it moves. It's like chess. You always have to make a move. And it always has to be strategic, yes. But the truth is in your 20s it probably won't. Even if you try. And as long as you're trying, you'll be fine.

5. You may have different sorts of friends like the one you only talk to about kdrama with or the one you met when you went book shopping alone and the friendship is all about books really. That's normal. But irrespective of why and how you became friends with them, if you consider them a friend then there has to be this basic sense of care, respect and empathy for each other. I don't care what people want to say. If you're faced with the worst trauma of your life, the least your friends can do is check up on you regularly. On text. And if they don't even do that then guess what? They aren't friends. They are acquaintances. Social media and quick promises make everyone seem like your friend. But they are not. They are just nice people who will be nice to you for specific periods and then wander away like you are a speck of dust floating in their journey.

6. You speak a lot and write and you express yourself and you’re emotionally mature but oh my god. You still hold in so much. You’ve known that at a subconscious level and over the last year people - experts - have told you that. You have also realized that you make your pain and sadness about pettier things because dealing with them, admitting about them, sharing that with your friends, is easier. You do that so that you don’t have to deal with the real stuff. Because it’s so damn painful. And you don’t know how to do it. Yet. Acknowledging is the first step anyway right? I know you’re confused about how exactly to let go of all this pain and sadness and feel lighter, and you know that talking to people really isn’t the solution, but I also know you’re smart enough to figure it out.

7. Talking about being smart...you know you’re different than others. Better. Special. Smarter. None of these are the right words. And you never voiced this out until this year because you knew it would make you come across as narcissistic. Some would say it’s because you’re an INFJ. But my mother once said that this may be the first time we are consciously living life but our souls are old and so our instinct and the things we know but can’t explain are because this isn’t the first time for our souls. The connections we feel with certain people, the reason we are so different from our siblings who grew up in the exact same environment with the exact same opportunities, our sense of right and wrong...it’s all because our souls learn and grow with each time and that’s why we are who we are. I think that’s probably how I can explain what I have always felt. That I am living in a different universe than everybody but I have to pretend to be in this one and dumb my emotions and thoughts down. Maybe that’s because my soul has lived through thousands of years while most around me are living their 100th life. Or maybe I’m just narcissistic, who knows?

8. You shift between talking in first person and second person but that’s because that’s how you think in your head and talk to yourself and live your life. You ask yourself things and you accuse yourself of things and you apologize to yourself and you comfort yourself. I think that seeps into your writing and the changing of the voices.

9. You always genuinely thought that you’d not be afraid of dying. And then what happened this October proved you shockingly wrong. I know it’s not so much being afraid of dying but the unbearable pain of knowing what that would mean to your family. So you have to be more prudent and less reckless with your life and the choices you make.

10. Regret is not something that plagued you but this year the realisation and pain of giving away your favourite books from your own personal collection to people you care about as a show of affection and them turning out to be ass holes or losers has hit you so hard. So, yes. No more of that shit. I really fucking want my copy of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower back. UGH. With the childhood picture of me inside it!

11. Sleeping at 5 am in the morning stops being fun or romanticised when you realise just how much harm it does to your body and mind. Literally every single disease and disorder can be traced back to a shitty fucking sleep schedule. It’s not just the hours you sleep but also the quality of sleep and the time you sleep at. So yes sleeping for 8 hours is healthy but not if that 8 hours is from 5 am to 12 pm. ‘Not a morning person’ is just another construct of capitalism and you don’t realise how many industries profit from having you believe that and staying up late or all night. Entertainment. Food. Alcohol. Pharma. Biologically and naturally you are a bloody morning person. And you don’t need 3 cups of coffee to begin your day or your phone notifications to get you to open your eyes and brain to wake up.

12. Sometimes you really have to stop taking people so seriously. I know the idea of treating people as casual friends or entertainment makes you want to fight that concept but you know what? Some people like Pineapple are ever only going to be good for that. No matter how much they ‘grow and change’. So keep them in the background for whenever you want some entertainment or drama. But please don’t clear up your busy schedule to meet them or send them gifts on their birthday.

13. If you don’t have the fruit juice or green juice within half an hour of making it then you are losing out on its most optimum health benefits. Or when you remove the white stringy stuff from oranges. That’s where all the actual nutrients are.

14. I am privileged and so are most of the people I interact with. The global pandemic has been hell for a lot of people around the world. Health wise. Financially. Losing people they care about. But I was blessed enough to be safe at home and have a job that I could smoothly do from home and not have a pay cut or 4-hour long Zoom meetings. So honestly when my friends tell me 2020 has been bad I have to stop and ask them why? Yes, the crippling uncertainty and anxiety is not something that can be undermined. But most people I know had very great positive life-changing milestones this year like moving away to another country for college or taking their first solo trip or getting married. So I have to ask them. Because I am not going to agree that everybody’s 2020 and pandemic narrative is the same.

15. Money gets spent really quickly. When I left my job earlier this year because of personal issues, I thought I had enough savings to last me a year. Full disclosure - I mean to last my personal expenses because I live with my parents. But it didn’t even last me 3 months. And so to use money wisely and buy things that provide utility than instant gratification is something to follow. Also buying one pair of really expensive but quality shoes is better than buying 5 pairs of affordable but low quality shoes that will have a very short life and force you to buy more. I know that higher price doesn’t always mean better quality but sometimes it does. And as an adult now I want to do the whole quality > quantity thing even with things and not just people.

16. Everyone in their 20s went through a crisis of what they should do with their lives and their careers and it’s not unique to the 21st century and the challenges of today. Whether it was Vincent Van Gogh in the 19th century or Sylvia Plath in the 20th, every single person, as brilliant as them went through the torture of making these decisions and living with their consequences. You may think I picked wrong examples for they both killed themselves but you know what? They were the people who really want to live more than anyone. They knew what life meant. And maybe if mental health help was more accessible back then their lives would be longer and more peaceful.

17. Telling people everything is overrated. You don’t have to talk about every single thing that’s on your mind or that’s going on in your life. The good and the bad and the mediocre. You have to be mindful about how much of yourself you’re giving away.

18. Re-watch Suits when people at work feel intimidating because the confidence + negotiation tactics that they show can actually work irl cos at the end of the day no matter in what position you’re dealing with people who have emotions and fears and insecurities and desires. You understand how to leverage that nobody can get the better of you.

19. You belong to yourself. No matter how much you love someone or how much they have done for you or how much you owe them - you belong to yourself. You can’t live your life for someone else. Everyone belongs to themselves first. No relationship, no promise, no circumstance should make you feel like you have to give up your life and make it all about them. If and when the time comes to die for them, go ahead. Take a bullet. Donate that kidney. Write them in your will. But live your life for yourself. And let them live theirs.

20. Twenty three was a challenging year. When it started you claimed the age 23 sounds boring and insignificant. Guess it proved you wrong. It hurt so much now. But that only means you’ll look back on it later and see how it added so much wisdom and resilience to your being. It doesn’t mean that it makes all the bad things that happened to you okay. Or that you should be grateful to them. Fuck no. It means that you should be kinder to yourself because at the end of the day, your mind and body find it in themselves to deal with whatever is thrown their way. They have your back. It’s time you learn to sit straight.

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thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness · 3 years

Text

Toshiya "Oboro" release commemorative Twitter "Like project" live stream [DAY 5]

A summary and some notes about today’s live stream with Toshiya

Notes before reading: I wanted to do a small summary and highlights of today’s livestream (ended up being 5 pages lol) It’s a bit messier/raw than other times but I hope you enjoy it :) Fujieda starts greeting everyone watching and announces the beginning of the livestream. Today’s is Toshiya’s turn. Fujieda says it’s the last day of these events that took place during Japan’s Golden week, he asks Toshiya how is he doing and he just laughs. Fujieda asks Toshiya if he knows what are these events about and he says “somehow”, Fujieda explains that as “Oboro” was released on Wednesday, people are sharing their impressions about it in the hashtag #direngreyyabai (it would like direngreyisdashit/ awesome) *Toshiya grins when he hears the hashtag name*. So, Toshiya has to get into that hashtag and click “like” in the comments he likes. Toshiya laughs when Fujieda ends his explanation and he asks Toshiya if its his first time at twitter and he says it is. They are laughing for some seconds and then Fujieda explains the “Heart” icon is the “like” one, Toshiya asks him what happens when he “likes” a tweet, Fujieda resplies that person will receive a notification saying that Toshiya liked their tweet and maybe that person its going to be happy (moved?). Fujieda tells Toshiya to scroll in the tag, and read the tweets he is interested in and if he wants, read the name of the person as that would made them happy. Fujieda says he is going to be checking comments at the Gaalaca site and it seems that Toshiya has a screen in his left side with the Gaalaca site too. Toshiya: It’s hard... Fujieda: Rather than hard, it’s hectic…as I’m watching twitter and the livestream’s comments…it’s pretty hectic but it’s funny… Toshiya jokes with Fujieda and says again it’s hard, because he doesn’t understand it well, Fujieda explains how he has to scroll in the hashtag so the tweets will be appearing. Toshiya asks who did these twitter accounts and Fujieda says the staff. He also explains that it was also the first time for Die but it seems that he got used to twitter in the end.

Fujieda encourages Toshiya to click his first like and thanks everyone for so many comments.

Toshiya: Thank you, but I don’t understand this. Toshiya starts scrolling for a while and Fujieda is reading comments from the livestream all the time, thanking them. Toshiya: Woah, you are really busy…. He stops in the tweet of a baby wrapped in a dir en grey towel. Toshiya: There is a cute child ….*opens the picture* Toshiya keeps scrolling and Fujieda tells him that if he was interested in that tweet, he should like that tweet but Toshiya can’t find the tweet scrolling back.

Toshiya suggests to talk while he is doing the twitter thing and Fujieda asks him about “Oboro”, if there is any particular part of the song we should listen to…. Toshiya says that it’s hard to pick so “everything”. Fujieda: Are you looking at the tweets? Toshiya: I am… Toshiya laughs at some tweet thanking Fujieda and clicks “like” for the first time. He seemed amused by the twitter message when he does it. He keeps scrolling for a while and Fujieda asks him the same about T.D.F.F than about “Oboro”, if there is anything in particular…..Toshiya laughs and says “everything”. Fujieda says there are many people saying T.D.F.F is good. Toshiya: is that so? I’m happy… Fujieda sees Toshiya liking a tweet and asks if he is liking a lot but he says “I liked about two” lol This one has attached a pic of one of his basses Toshiya keeps scrolling up and Fujieda teases him about the “like limit” (Shinya got this function blocked for liking too many tweets at once) but Toshiya laughs like “it’s not gonna happen to me” lol. While we are seeing a close up of Toshiya scrolling, Fujieda says that even though is spring its still cold and Toshiya agrees. They also talk about some music shops being close (because of the state of emergency in some cities in Japan) like Shinjiku and Shibuya Tower records so Fujieda thinks that because of that some people might haven’t listened to the single yet. Fujieda reads a lot of names from the stream in a row and Toshiya laughs. He reads and like a tweet asking him about what he is drinking at that moment and Toshiya says “coffee” and adds he is going to buy alcohol ( he mumbles it so low lol) and Fujieda asks him if he doesn’t have any at home and Toshiya says he drank it recently. Shops seems to be closed and not selling alcohol from certain hour due to the emergency state.

Toshiya asks who came up with the hashtag’s name and Fujieda says “the company”. He explains that “yabai” is often used to refer to Dir and Toshiya laughs hard.

Toshiya: Is that so? Fujieda: If people used it a lot, it will be a trending topic…a trending topic is… Toshiya: Am I that old? (that you think have to explain it to me) Fujieda: *laughs* You understand what it’s a trending topic, right? Toshiya: More or less…

Toshiya gets back to scrolling tweets, he likes a few more but mostly just pass them quickly. Fujieda asks him if he is just looking at them quickly/just passing them and Toshiya says he is doing that. Toshiya asks Fujieda why there are so many cats in the tweets, he replies that it’s pretty common in twitter to post cats. Toshiya is like “why?” Fujieda “because they are cute” and Toshiya is like “Oh, I see”. Toshiya reads a tweet about someone saying Fujieda wears a T-shirt with the name of the band in a different colour in every livestream (these shirts are from the last screening) They talk about the shirts. Toshiya seems a be clueless about what to do and Fujieda asks everyone to write their impressions about oboro. Toshiya: From now one, please just (tweet) your impressions about “Oboro” (laughs) Fujieda says the livestream is going to end soon so he encourages people to make a last effort. Next comment Toshiya likes, its about wanting to hear “Oboro” live soon, Toshiya says he wants to play a live. Fujieda goes back to saying people’s name and thanking them for the comments and Toshiya is just scrolling up. Toshiya likes a comment saying that this person’s friend is about to give birth and when she was listening to “Oboro” , the baby started to move intensely and it seems that the baby started kicking the belly lol. Fujieda: At the PV Kyo is being given birth as well. Toshiya laughs hard. He is back at scrolling and likes a few tweets more, one with a picture of his picks and other wanting that “Sogai” live takes place soon. Fujieda says these are too tough times, as they can’t play lives and even music shops are closed now. Fujieda keeps saying people’s name and Toshiya stops at a comment of someone who did a cover of every part of the song, they both think it’s amazing this person could do every single part. Then, he likes a tweet of someone that tried to do a “arukuma” characters with grapes, Toshiya says it looks scary.

Fujieda keeps explaining more stuff about twitter to Toshiya and he just replies “I want to delete it” lol Then he asked whose idea was this and Fujieda says it was the company’s. Toshiya: So you were just like “let’s do it”….like DT (Dynammite Tommy?/DTS?)…. Fujieda laughs and shakes his head. Toshiya: So when this is over, you are going to delete it (the twitter) Fujieda: We are going to keep using it like for example when the album is going to be released….. Toshiya: Eh? *disappointed* Fujieda laughs.

Toshiya stops at a tweet with a screepcap of the hashtag being trending topic in Kyushuu (south of Japan). Fujieda explains what it means. Toshiya: (It’s trending topic in) Ashura no kuni ( dangerous country) *Ashura no kuni is used to referred to Kyuushuu, it’s seems these name comes from “Hokuto no ken”? Fujieda says they are TT also in Kanto (Japan’s main island) and Osaka and other places. Toshiya likes another tweet saying they want to listen to “Oboro” in a Nagano live, Toshiya mumbles “I wonder when it will be possible” Fujieda: I want to play a live Toshiya:*laughs* Ah so? Fujieda: I want to…. with Toshiya…..*Fujieda laughs cause he realizes why Toshiya is teasing him* Not me…I mean the band… Toshiya says Fujieda could impersonate Shinya’s (Fujieda plays the drums) and Fujieda laughs. Fujieda says they are already TT in Japan. Then explains to Toshiya how the “coins system” works in Gaalaca, like they are similar to Youtube’s super chat just that you can “buy” with these coins Dir’s icons or draws…. Toshiya peeks at the screen he has at his left side to check it. Fujieda thanks everyone for so many comments. They are about the finish the livestream. Toshiya: Everyone, take a bath and go to sleep… Fujieda laughs. Toshiya says something about the comments being “nice” and Fujieda says today they are quite nice. Toshiya: So kind… Fujieda: Not saying other days weren’t nice but today are especially nice…. Toshiya: Everyone is really amazing…

Fujieda: We are about to finish this, is that ok for you, Toshiya? Toshiya: Pretty please….

They are finally ending the live stream and Fujieda thanks everyone for taking part in it. Both of them clap. Fujieda: There are more than 2.400 people watching the livestream, is there something you want to tell them? Toshiya: Thank you so much….Dir en grey yabai desu ( Dir en grey is da shit) Fujieda: Da shit, *laughs* Something about “Oboro”? Toshiya: please listen to it a lot, and if we play a live, please come…..that’s all… Fujieda: Thank you! Fujieda starts talking about the event being finished, thanks the people who watched. Fujieda: That so many people took part and show interested, if you all enjoyed I think it’s good, right? Toshiya: Is that so? *laughs* Fujieda: I think that if there is another chance to do it…. Toshiya: I already don’t like/hate this.... Fujieda laughs surprised. Fujieda: Eh?? Next time please take part....with the other members... Fujieda asks people to keep listening to “Oboro” and even if now the circumstances don’t let them play live, to wait until it’s possible. Fujieda: Thank you everyone for so many tweets, icons.... Toshiya: Yes. Fujieda: Finally, please watch the promotional edit of the pv of “Oboro”; thank you for spending your time with us, Today Toshiya was here! Thank you so much! Byee.... Toshiya and Fujieda wave goodbye. Next....”Oboro” PV promotional edit comes it.

#dir en grey #toshiya #translation #toshiyatranslations

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spookysmujer · 4 years

Text

Hood Love, O. Diaz

Summary: As high school sweethearts, Oscar being in prison never changed the way you felt about him. You’re known for being a brat with him, so it’s only fair to uphold the attitude and make him jealous behind the steel curtain.

warnings: jealous/toxic!Oscar

word count: 1.2K

requested by my bitch @youllneverknowrac

a/n: As someone with a prison penpal, I can confirm they get jealous real quick! But I love the possessiveness, hehe I have a problem, send help 🤪 As a reminder REQUESTS ARE CLOSED! But will be opening soon! Don’t hesitate to send me asks, I love it!! Please don’t forget to consider following my blog, heart/comment/reblog my content as well as turning on the notifs for when I post! Thank you!

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss @princesstiffxoxo@firebenderwolf @spookysnena @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98@multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc @roury66 @kkim120 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3 @starrynite7114 @onmyspookysblock @aneitii @b3mybunnybaby @angelxfics (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

(gif belongs to @grinsekatze ✨)

“You better not hang up.” Oscar sounds through the receiver of your phone which is pressed between your ear and shoulder as you make lunch. You roll your eyes and close the jar of mayo not saying anything.

You don’t need to hear him speak to know what kind of look he has on his face. A small grin spreads across your face as you remind quiet, “Mami? Babe? Babe?” He repeats over and over again, the laughter not being able to be contained any longer.

The eruption of laughter causes him to Oscar click his tongue and sigh. Meanwhile on his side, he’s leaned against the wall with a stoic expression. He’s had a long day of dealing with unnecessary shit. The last thing he wants is his ruca adding to the long list of bullshit.

“Y/N.”

First names were never used between the two of you, since the first day you spoke to each other freshmen year. It’s been nicknames of all sorts, it wasn’t like you never used your legal names with each other but to go from mami to Y/N means that he isn’t in the mood.

The seriousness in his voice causes you to roll your eyes and sigh. “I’m still here, you always trip on me. Go run some shit or something, I got to eat my lunch then head out anyways.”

Oscar hated when you had to cut the calls short, he already has a limited time with talking to you, he missed his ruca bad. “Fine, I’ll hit you up later, low. You better not have plans then.”

“Mhm, we’ll see. Bye, papas.” He retorts back his farewell and the call ends. Oscar had meant the phone call later would be through a smuggled phone, every once in a while you’ll get a call that’s not through the prison system and you love it. He is at ease and more calm, not to mention the sexy time with get with you man who is all those mile away.

You spend the day getting things done around the house. Buzzing with excitement to hear his voice, though the excitement began to fade when you think back on how he was in a bit of a mood. You roll your eyes at his demands. An idea popping in your head.

After finishing dinner, you shower up and wait for the phone to ring. When it does, a mischievous smile forming on your lips. You watch the phone for a few seconds, clearing you throat and laying back, “Hi babe.”

“The fuck it took you so long to answer?” He asks you, the irritation prominent in his voice, you smile as you get under the covers comfortably. “It rang like 3 seconds longer, calmate. I’m getting ready though, what you doing papas?”

The silence after your silence proves the plan in effect is working, you try your best to not laugh, “I thought I asked you not to have plans, you knew I was calling.” You roll your eyes, turning over the under the covers.

“You told me to not have plans, not asked, mister. Plus, just going out for a drink with the girls.... At Santana’s place.” You add in at the end of the sentence, you could hear Oscar release a breath at the beginning of your sentence and when you say where you are heading out to, the exhalation of his breath comes to an abrupt stop.

Before he got sent back in, you were like a leech to him. Stuck to him whenever he went out. He liked it though he never admitted it. One of the places he tried to avoid going to with you is one of his homie’s, Santana. Before Oscar asked you to be his ruca, Santana use to hit on you big time. He hated bringing you around to his place.

You lay in silence for moment, “Babe?”

Oscar doesn’t reply right away, he clears his throat and remains silence. Every single thought that Santana will be thinking about is what’s currently running through Oscar’s mind. How the puto will be eyeing you up and down since you don’t got him wrapped on you.

He sighs, “Go have your fun. I’ma bounce.”

“Babe, chill. Why can’t I go?” You ask, the irritation heavy in the silence alone,

“Why do you ask dumb questions? Hm? Since when do you go to place’s like Santana’s without me? What makes you think I’d be okay that? You gonna bounce to go act stupid, then go.” He says angrily.

You roll your eyes, the idea to get Oscar jealous is in full effect. You can hear him getting worked up. A part of you is loving it, the sinister part of you wants to keep going. But the loving part of you feels bad. He’s already dealing with all that shit in there and you are suppose to be his support/solace.

Oscar is fuming on the other side. Losing his shit silently that you want to hit up Santana’s place. The insecurities begin to eat at him about the two of you and your relationship that had been broken down and rebuilt over the years. You feel that he is quickly overthinking.

“Papi, I’m not going anywhere. Especially not to his place. I’m just fucking with you. You gotta chill, I knew you were calling so why would I make plans, hm?” You smile to yourself as you reach over to grab the framed picture of you and Oscar that sits on your bedside table.

It’s the two of you on his front porch. He’s sat on the stairs and you are one below him, between his legs. You’re leaned back into him and he’s sporting the mean muggin’ Spooky look. Meanwhile you’re cheesy like a kid in a candy shop. You gleam at the picture, immediately missing him a lot more than you just were.

He scoffs, “Because you acting like puta. you loving acting like that with me. Cool though, be someone else’s hyna you gonna fuckin’ act like that.” He spits.

“Yeah, like you would let me be with someone else.”

Oscar smiles but remains authoritative in his tone, “You better know that. No one gonna get you even if you could get got. Cause if I get got mamas, you comin’ with.” The smile that spreads on your lips begin to hurt your cheeks.

“No place I’d rather be, baby.”

The conversation goes on about how shit’s been stressful. Running complexes has Oscar feeling a whole decade older than he really is. His ranks moving up in the Santos exponentially. But if it’s one thing that can get him through the next few years is the promise of you waiting for him when he comes home.

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novannna · 4 years

Text

Okay, so I’ve been noticing some things on tumblr, and thats the amount of recognitions writers get. I’m very aware that most content creators get little recognition, but I’m focusing on writers, because I feel like they are on the bottom of the figurative food chain.

I spend a lot of my time writing. Why? Well, I do it for me. I genuinely enjoy writing. It’s something I find fun, relaxing, and a good way to distract myself when I feel bad. I also don’t really care about the amount of reblogs/likes I get, because I’m not writing for tumblr, I’m writing for myself.

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect me.

I love getting recognition for my work. The reason I post is because I know I’m sharing my writing, and I know that people I don’t know are reading it. Hopefully they are enjoying it too.

But when I get only 5 notes on a story, that makes me think “oh no, they hate it”. Its really disheartening to check your notifs after posting a story, and seeing nothing. My mind gets stuck in a loop of “why am I doing this, I’m a bad writer, everyone hates it, I should just stop” And I know that it isnt true, but there isn’t much happening to change it. I honestly dont care about the notes, but what I do care aboout is whether or not people liked it. And I don’t think people do when my fics are getting less than 10 notes.

Another thing- LIKES DONT DO SHIT!!!!!

Please, reblog. I’m not saying not to like it, but liking a post doesn’t spread it. My goal is for as many people as possible to read my fics. But, if no one reblogs, then it will be stuck in my own group of followers. I totally understand if you don’t have time to read it,or its just Too Much at the time- believe me, I’ve been there. But still, you can reblog!!!! Tag it to read later, or something like that. you dont have to read it even. I love getting my shit out to AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE. Even if you don’t think you would like it, maybe a follower would. it doesnt take that long, and it makes a huge difference to me and other content creators. Everytime i see a reblog, i fucking grin like im insane. I just think about how many people will be able to see it, how many more people will get to read my writing. There’s always the queue function if you feel like you’ve been spamming too. Seriously. You have no idea how much it means, especially to smaller blogs like mine. This also applies to kudos on ao3. they really make writers feel good!!!

Also- please fucking comment. It’s definetly not mandatory. I get it if you’re having a bad day, and you just cant comment. I get that. But, if you can, please do. You dont have to give me some detailed analysis or anything. Even a keysmash makes us SO FUCKING HAPPY. Everytime I see a comment, i grin because I know that someone genuinely enjoyed my fic. I know they aren’t just rebloggig out of pity or anything. When i feel sad, or like i should stop writing, i go back and look through all my fics comments. It helps so much. believe me, even if its in the tags, i read it. Every single word, i fucking treasure. It means so much to me. Obviously, there is no pressuer, but if you have the time, please do. Anything is apreciated so much.

Anyways, thats all, please rb shit, please comment, please spread our creations, I know it seems like a small, meaningless thing, but you are making a HUGE difference. This applies to all creative content, but I focused on writing because I primarily write, and writers get the least amount of recognition.

please feel free to add on, but please if you feel otherwise, keep your opinions to yourself, i dont have enough energy or braincells left to argue <3

#writing #kin talks #please take it from me #you make a huge difference when you reblog/comment #take 5 seconds out of your day to support us #vent post #writers of tumblr #fanfiction

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jasntodds · 2 years

Text

Caving In [4]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,625

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a nightmare, fluff, hurt/comfort, some paranoia, mention of torture, mention of abuse, Dick tries to kind of have “the talk”, Jason and reader argue (we all know sometimes Jason is an asshole, this is the only time this kind of argument happens btw), mentions of bruising and swelling, a mention of drug addiction, mentions of death

A/N: I’m really excited to post chapter 7 just so you guys know lol This feels kind of like a filler but this is the only one that feels like it I think?? I might try to post chapter 5 this weekend because of that lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 The first few chapters take place between season 2 episode 1 and season 2 episode 2. You can add yourself 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!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Nightmares are a funny thing. They’re rarely anything realistic once you’re able to be calm enough to think about them. But they always contain some type of fear or traumatic event someone has experienced. Sometimes, it’s not rational or there is some deep hidden meaning behind the nightmare but other times, it’s just from trauma left unhandled. Those nightmares are the worst.

They make you revise the worst times of your life over and over and over like a broken record. No matter what you do, you lose in the nightmare. Years later, you might be happy and healthy but the nightmare comes back and you feel like you’re right back where you were. Trapped in the never-ending agony. Trapped inside a tilt-a-whirl made of panic attacks and broken hearts. And every single night, it’s a living hell.

And that’s where you are now, living your own personal hell with screaming so loud your throat is raw and ragged breaths beg your chest to finally cave in. The flashes of your “foster dad” scar the back of your eyes with every blink, like Freddy Krueger clawing his way to the surface. You might have escaped him physically, but mentally you’re trapped like a bear at a circus. Your hands shake as tears well behind your eyes and as the panic rages through your veins, the anger sets in. And you’re so mad that you’re allowing this piece of shit to haunt you even in your sleep, somewhere you might just feel safe. How are you ever supposed to be safe from him if you can’t even sleep? What if he finds you? What if, somehow, your nightmares are just a sign he’s coming after you? What are you supposed to do then? What if he has powers and that’s why he’s coming to finish you off?

A million what-ifs scramble through your brain as you sit in your bed, the bedside lamp still on. You get out of bed and it’s not even like you’re walking. With every worst-case scenario running through your head at once, you’re just moving through motions to exit your room. You need to make sure he isn’t here, need to make sure everyone here is safe from him, that you’re safe from him.

Your hands go up, right in front of you, slightly outstretched as if waiting for you to run into him. The palms of your hands glow green, ready for any type of attack you might come across in the secure tower while you tiptoe your way out of your room.

“Y/n?” A groggy voice from the right pulls your attention as you were just about to walk down the hallways. You jump and spin quickly, the glow of your hands intensifying in the dim light of the hallway. “It’s me.” Gar defends quickly, putting his hands up. “Gar?” His voice is still groggy but full of fear as he glances between your hands and your face.

You could see him with the dim lights of the hallway and the green glow of your hands but it still didn’t click, not until he said his name. You aren’t sure where your head was but a part of you is scared because of it. You were so lost in a state of fear and urgency to make sure everything was safe, you were blinded. It’s a bit terrifying.

You lets out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, dropping your hands as the green fades. “Fuck, what’re you doing?” You whisper-yell at him.

Gar takes a few steps towards you. “You were screaming.” He whispers back to you. “I heard you so I came to see if you were okay.”

The walls aren’t thin but Gar is pretty sure your scream could have woken up anyone. It was loud and pained, etched in terror. But, that’s a thing that happens here from time-to-time. Everyone has a habit of occasionally waking up screaming. It’s either childhood trauma haunting them or new trauma from Trigon. Gar figures that’s why no one else got up. They’re conditioned to be used to it.

You watch him carefully as the panic starts to cloud with feelings of regret and guilt. You didn’t realize you had screamed loud enough to wake anyone up. That’s not fair to anyone, to be woken by someone who can’t handle their own shit. And then to be standing out in the middle of a hallway at the crack of dawn with sleep still in their eyes talking about it. You look to the floor, shifting your weight on your feet and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you….okay?” Gar asks, coming a little closer.

When you fell asleep on him earlier, you looked peaceful. Normally, you kind of always have this look of fear. Your eyes always seem a little distant and you look behind whoever you’re talking to a lot. You don’t make eye contact for longer than a few seconds. But while you slept, you looked at ease and peaceful and calm, like you didn’t need to look over your shoulder anymore but then you shot up out of nowhere. Gar knew it had to have been a nightmare. He reacts the same way when he has one, maybe everyone does but he knows the signs. Wide eyes, ragged breathing, distant but sleep-filled eyes. And now, you’re awake again from a nightmare and it doesn’t sit right with the kind boy with green hair.

You nod. “Y-yeah.” You offer a fake smile. “You, uh, you can go back to bed.”

“Are you going to go back to bed?” Gar asks with a pointed look and he doesn’t want you to be alone. The shadows are a bit more haunting when you’re alone.

“Uh….I mean….eventually.” You answer softly, dropping your head slightly.

“I can stay with you until you fall asleep if you want.” Gar shrugs his shoulders, putting his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants.

You raise a brow at him, not looking pleased with the idea. You don’t want to inconvenience him or seem weak. You’re in a tower full of heroes and you can’t even sleep through the night. The last thing you want is for any of them to see you as the weak link. What happens if you can’t pull it together? Will they just drop you because you’re not strong enough?

“It-it’s okay.” You don’t smile this time, you just keep chewing your lip, pulling your sleeves over your hands, something Gar has been noticing you do.

“What were you doing out here?” Gar asks, his voice kind and not accusing but you shake your head, knowing it sounds ridiculous. “I won’t tell anyone.” He offers and there’s this sweet but subtle smile pulling at his lips.

Jason, a few hours ago, told you to talk to him. He said maybe it would help and the only way he’d know that, is if Gar knows Jason’s baggage, too. Jason doesn’t seem the type to wave the white flag and spill all of his secrets. Maybe Gar just cares about everyone and maybe it will help.

You sigh and cave. “I-I-I was….was just making sure….uh….he wasn’t….here.” You stutter but eventually get everything out and a part of Gar’s heart breaks at hearing it.

You aren’t looking at him, a sense of shame consuming you and Gar is not about to have you feeling bad for worrying that the person who tortured you is seeking you out in the one place you feel safe. It’s not fair and it’s not right. Gar knows whatever you went through was horrible but the fact you’re so worried that the person is in the tower? It’s unfathomable.

Gar starts walking past you, stopping a few steps ahead of you and offering you his hand. “We’ll look together.”

You look at his hand and then up at him with his words and you can feel your nose getting warm while your eyes burn. Your entire face softens and there’s something about the offer that makes you feel like everything in you is being warmed by a fireplace, warmed by a place one can only describe as home. He didn’t think you were crazy or that it was ridiculous or stupid. He just…offered to help.

So, you put your hand in his, following him through the tower.

As you walk, you hold his hand tightly noticing the soft callouses. His grip is tight but in a comforting type of way and he glances at you every few seconds as if making sure you’re okay. You walk from room to room, turning on the lights and verifying there isn’t anyone around before you end up in the comms room with the supercomputer. Gar takes a seat and shows you that everything is still secure and there hasn’t been a break-in. Everyone still needs their fingerprints to get in and the front door is done by facial recognition. According to the logs, no one has been in or out of the tower since nine the night before.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, standing to the side of Gar with arms crossed and eyes on the large screen in front of you. “I know this was stupid.”

Gar spins in the chair to face you but your eyes don’t move. “It’s okay, ya know? You’re scared and this is a new place. It’s not stupid.”

“It feels like it though, I-i-i….I see him anytime I close my eyes.” Your voice is so small.

You think maybe you should take Jason’s advice fully. Gar is awake with you anyway and you woke him up. He could have gone back to bed but he walked with you instead, knowing full well there wasn’t an intruder in the tower. It’s like you owe him some type of explanation.

“Foster dad.” You clarify. “He’s originally from Gotham, too, ya know? So him being a complete psychopath kind of tracks.” There’s a sharp bitterness in your voice but you keep your stare off of Gar, afraid that if you can see the look on his face you know he’s giving you, you’ll just shut down and go to bed.

“He just…did that to you?” Gar asks with furrowed brows and pain in his voice.

“Yep, he wanted powers. Some weird thing against Batman and Robin so he used me because ya know, the system doesn’t actually give a fuck about most foster kids.” You grit your teeth, your fists balling in your arms. “Then thought I was concealing my powers from him because he was certain his experiments were working so he’d try to literally beat them out of me.” You shrug a shoulder. “Guess he was right.”

Gar pauses, piecing it together. He was sure you would have tried to use your powers, but you didn’t? “Wait so….you never used your powers around him and—“

“Let him beat me until he thought I was dead?” You ask, just glancing at Gar long enough to see him nod. “Yep. If he knew it worked, he’d have killed me anyway. Letting him think he failed was…” You tilt your head side to side slightly. “Vindicating in a way. I, uh, I know it sounds so stupid but I was desperate to try and get out. Desperate people do stupid things."

“I’m so sorry that happened.” Gar’s eyes are glued to you, hating the idea of living through that.

He was tortured before and it haunts him every single day. He wasn’t even tortured for very long and it’s still hell. You were tortured for a lot longer. He gets your hesitance and your paranoia. He’d be paranoid, too if he were you.

“Yeah….” You sigh. “So, I might have escaped physically but the piece of shit really isn’t leaving my dreams alone, I guess.”

Gar sits on it for a few seconds. While he was kind of this weird experiment in a way, Dr. Caulder knew it would work and it would save him. He never had to fear for his life around him. He feared speaking up and being himself because sometimes the doctor wasn’t very nice. He didn’t really like other people being their own people, not if it contradicted what he believed or wanted. So, he can’t even fathom want horrors haunt your mind even in safety.

“I can check the tower for you every night if you want.” Gar offers. You jerk your head in his direction, surprise etched across every crease of your face. “And uh, if you have a nightmare, you can wake me up. I leave my door unlocked anyway…if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Y-y-you’d do that?”

Gar gains a sheepish smile as he shrugs. “Yeah, of course.”

You will never tell Jason, but maybe he was right about telling Gar. You feel a little better about it and he’s so nice. He’s offering to lose sleep when you have a nightmare which could be every night. You wonder how he’s chosen to be so kind despite whatever he’s been through.

“Thank you.” You look to the ground and then finally look at Gar. “Can you not tell anyone? Please?”

He chuckles softly. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks, it means a lot.” You suck in a breath. “Well, now that I know my delusions are just delusions, I’m gonna try and get some more sleep.” You give him a genuine smile this time.

“I’ll be up if you need anything.” Gar says, turning back to the computer to exit out of the security system.

“I’m so sorry.” You apologize again. “I didn’t mean to keep you from sleeping or anything.”

“It’s okay.” Gar assures you. “I should be getting up early anyway.”

“Okay.” You nod, offering him a closed and small smile.

It’s six now so Gar’s alarm would be going off in an hour anyway. But, you’re still going to go to bed. He didn’t hear you go to bed the night before and it was pretty late when you woke up from the first nightmare.

“What, uh what time did you go to bed anyway?”

“Uh….” You squint an eye, trying to remember the last time you looked at your phone. “Four? I think?”

“Wow, okay.” Gar’s brows raise quickly as he chuckles softly.

“I-I got talking with Jason last night so…” Your words fall off. “Couldn’t sleep and I ran into him.”

Gar nods slowly, ignoring the tint of a burn in his chest. You talked to Jason but not him? He’s been so nice to you and he feels like you trust him. All you do with Jason is this weird banter thing that Gar is slowly realizing maybe it’s flirting. Not that he’s actively trying to pursue anything because that doesn’t feel right either. But something about you talking to Jason, hurts. He’s always deemed himself a trustworthy person who’s a pretty good listener but you went to probably the worst listener on the face of the planet. He doesn’t really get it and he knows he has not right to assume you would tell him anything. Above everything else, he’s just surprised you got talking to Jason.

“What’d ya talk about?” Gar plays it cool, not digging but just asking.

“Uh….nothing really, I guess.” You lie and it’s at that moment you realize you lie a lot. Not that you intend to, it just feels like an instinct now either to protect yourself or other people. “I mean…not nothing.” You correct yourself. “Some of what happened in a very unserious manner.”

Gar nods his head again and you might be a little dense but you’re not so dense that you missed the way he stiffed in his chair. “Did it help?” He asked.

“Well, I, uh, I felt better after but then I had a nightmare so….not sure how much talking about it really helped.” You scoff as you roll your shoulders.

“Is it because it was unserious?” Gar asks, quoting your direct word.

You shake your head. “Nah, always been better with unserious ways of talking about trauma. When it gets too….emotional I don’t….” You look to the floor, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “I don’t like it very much, like it less than I usually do, I suppose.”

“You can talk to me.” Gar offers, looking back over to you.

“I know.” You smile at him softly, it’s almost a smirk that forms. “Can you get a little snarky and nasty about it?”

“Would it help?” Gar chuckles, his position loosening with the question and the burning sensation in his chest starting to dissipate.

“Yeah, you can’t give that look you do. With the big eyes and sad expression, makes me feel weird.” You scrunch the left side of your mouth upwards.

Gar laughs softly, putting his hands up. “Okay, I’ll try my best.”

“Thanks.” You look around the room and then back to him. “I do like talking to you and hanging around you. You make me feel comfortable here.” You admit and then realize you’re saying way too much. “Okay well, that’s enough for today. I’m actually going to bed.” You smile at him and it almost feels like you should hug him or something but that also feels like it might just get awkward so you opt for a small wave as if that wasn’t just as awkward.

“Sleep well.” Gar laughs softly, matching the wave with burning cheeks.

You finally get some much-needed rest, without a nightmare. It wasn't a lot of sleep by any means but it was a lot more than you’ve gotten in a long time and for the first time, you actually feel well-rested. You aren't sure if it's because you talked with Gar about what happened a little bit or if it's because you knew he was awake and wouldn't let anyone in your room if they tried. Or that he helped you look around the tower for Jerry like two crazy people. Maybe it's a combination of everything but you feel a lot better.

You find yourself walking into the kitchen once you’re fully awake, still dressed in pajamas. Your thing has always been you shouldn't need to get properly dressed if you aren't actively doing something or going somewhere. Why bother dirtying clothes?

When you walk into the kitchen, Gar and Jason are sat on the barstools while Dick is making some type of shake, Rachel is just coming in from the opposite hall. The boys look a little sweaty, devouring their food like they haven’t eaten in days. You assume they’d just gotten done with a training session and, apparently, were too hungry to shower first.

"Good morning." Dick chimes, bits of sarcasm in his words given it just being past noon.

You pause, glaring at him. "You're one of those aren't you?"

"What?" Dick chuckles, confusion in his face.

"Thinking the early bird gets the worm or whatever." Your voice is flat and you might be well-rested and it might be the afternoon, but you’re not a morning person.

Dick shrugs. "It's true."

"But the mouse gets the cheese, my guy." You give him a thumbs up, moving to the seat between Jason and Gar and sitting down. Gar gives you this gentle smile while Jason has this proud smirk pulling at his lips. "What?" You look at Dick who looks somewhere between amused and contentment.

Dick is looking at you with a sense of ease and accomplishment. He thought you’d be more...closed off longer. This is a new place, you’re traumatized and hurt. But, you seem comfortable, using sarcasm with him that isn’t hurtful and plopping down right between the boys whose expressions did not go unnoticed by Dick. Dick feels like he might be doing something really good here.

"Nothing." Dick's face settles with amusement. "Settling okay?"

"Mhm." You hum.

"Since she doesn't shut the fuck up, I'm sure she's fine." Jason states, his voice trying to sound menacing.

Gar and you look to Jason with annoyance. "You have not shut up for a single second I have been here and this is day three. You had no complaints last night." You look away, Dick looking between the two of you with his cup held to his mouth. He doesn’t even wanna know.

"You were whining, I wanted you to shut up and it worked." Jason mumbles and you let out a laugh. What is his issue?

"I don't whine, I complain. There's a difference." You hold your pointer finger up to correct him and Jason cracks a smile, Gar chuckles into his water bottle.

"Same shit." Jason fires back. "You could stop."

You roll your eyes and that's when the idea sparks. Jason isn’t winning this, this is your game to win. "Hey, Dick, question: What's your rule on dating? Ya know in the tower?"

Jason and Gar both stiffen in their seats, you catching it out of the corner of your eyes and it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing or break the stare you have with Dick. Gar is choking on his water and Jason's cheeks are turning red while Dick is stuck looking at all three of you wondering how the hell he got here. The last thing Dick wants to do is discuss this. Of course, he knew there was a chance of something going on, but he kind of assumed it would just happen. He didn’t think he’d get dragged into it, not like this at least.

"She's screwing with you." Rachel says from the other side of Gar. You give Dick a wide smirk, Gar and Jason looking a little displeased, Jason more than Gar who almost looks disappointed.

"Of course she is." Dick lets out a breath, his expression unamused.

"Sorry, you were a necessary casualty in getting Jason to shut up for a few seconds." You hold an apologetic smile.

Jason flirts a lot and in your experience, if you bring up dating out of the blue, it’ll shut someone like Jason up faster than anything because it’s out of left field. He’s caught off guard and it gets his brain going on if there’s something going on. You think it’s funny, you’ve won this bit.

"Well, since you wanted to bring it up..." Dick starts and all four of you suddenly look like you need seatbelts.

"No, not the talk, please." Gar begs with a groan.

Dick grimaces. "No, of course not. I trust you all know about that." Even if you didn’t, Dick isn’t sure he’d be able to give the talk. He’d call Donna and Dawn. They’re the responsible ones.

"Some of us more than others." Jason quips with a smirk.

"Gross." Rachel mutters.

"Dude." Gar looks past you and at Jason, shaking his head at Jason.

"Anyway, uh..." Dick fumbles for words, realizing he never had any intention of this conversation which was his fault given the Titans past of relationship in the tower. "Just make sure everyone is consenting and be safe?"

"You sound so uncertain about that." You raise a brow as your words are slow.

"I don't know how to have this conversation." Dick defends.

"We don't have to." Gar is grimacing in his seat. "We know, safety and consent, got it." It’s not that Gar is a prude, it’s just awkward and he’s not much of a fan of awkward conversations. If it were just him and Dick, it wouldn’t be awkward, but it's everyone.

"Don't bring drama into the training room or while we're out."

"Obviously." Rachel says, already tired of the conversation.

"That won't be a problem." Jason mutters.

You rolls your eyes at him before looking back to Dick. "You're doing great, bud." You give Dick a thumbs up.

"That's it. I don't care, don't do anything.....graphic..."

"God." Gar groans, making you laugh. But, everyone has gathered this look of disgust on their faces with Dick’s choice of words. "Please, stop talking." Gar pleads.

"In a public area of the tower." Dick continues.

All of your faces contort into a grimace, even Jason’s. That is such an odd and specific request. You did not think this is where that joke would go. You didn’t think it’d go anywhere, let alone here.

"I feel like there's a very specific reason you said that and I don't wanna know." You laugh. "I'm sorry, I didn't think he'd decide to have this conversation." You apologize to the room.

"And what did you learn today?" Dick asks, not too happy about feeling like he had to have the talk with the new Titans.

"You want me today something like pick my words more carefully next time but...I think I just learned not bring up interpersonal relations with you in front of other people." You scrunch your nose.

Dick lets out a sigh. "Well, are we clear then?"

"YES." Gar yells, dramatically. "Can we stop now? This is awkward."

"Come on, Gar. Surely this isn't new territory for you." You kick Jason under the counter. "Ow! What the fuck?"

"Shut the fuck up." You snip at him.

"Yeah? And What are you gonna do about it?" Jason looks you up and down.

You narrow your eyes and for a second you think about what you could do. You could give him a burn, something equivalent to a rug burn. But, that’s not right and you’d never actually try to hurt him, not like this. And you can’t punch him because that also seems a bit extreme. He’d probably see it coming anyway, block you, then hit you back.

"That's what I thought." Jason scoffs with a look of pride as he’s won.

You shove him with your hand, Jason falling off of his chair. He hits the floor with a thud, looking at up at you with a twisted face filled of anger and shock. For someone who can't fight and who's injured, you’re ballsy. Jason could fight you right now and you'd basically be defenseless but Jason wouldn't do that. He knows where the lines are when it comes to physical contact and he doesn't cross them. He crosses a lot of lines, but fighting people who can't fight back isn't one of those. So, he's even more pissed about it.

Jason gets back to his feet, closing the distance between him and you. "What the fuck is your problem, huh?" Jason yells in your face, Gar adjusting in his seat, ready to get up at any point and Dick is ready to step in if he needs to.

"You are, apparently. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole? For no reason? Aren't you friends?"

"He doesn't need you to come to his fucking defense. I was fucking joking." Jason snarls, looking just past you at Gar before looking back at you.

"Right." You mutter. "Except it's obvious the whole conversation has made him uncomfortable so why don't you go cool the fuck off. You obviously need to." You sit straight in your seat, your face close to Jason's and you’re not backing down.

"You shoved me!" Jason flings his arm out in frustration.

"You asked me what I was gonna do about it! So I showed you!" You bark at him. "What are you gonna do about it?"

A dry laugh escapes Jason's throat and he doesn't want to actually fight you, but you’re making it a little tempting right about now. "Is that all you fucking have?" He taunts you instead.

"Wanna test me?" You open your palms, holding them just in front of your shoulders as they glow. Jason looks at the green and he doesn't get how people with powers are so willing to use them. He doesn't need powers. He's got his fists and those are plenty.

"Because you're just another freak, right?"

Gar gets off his seat at that comment, pushing Jason slightly and standing in between you and Jason. "Dude, go calm down. It's not that serious." Gar keeps his voice level, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You a team now, huh?" Jason looks in between you.

"Jason, come on. Cool off for a few minutes." Dick keeps his stance, choosing not to crowd the already heated area.

"Fuck you guys!" Jason yells, pushing past Gar and heading down the right hallway.

Gar sits down again and Dick's position relaxes with Jason out of the room. Gar's just surprised it went as far as it did but it's also Jason. He has buttons and pushing them sometimes leads to blow-ups. Jason is still his friend but sometimes, he really does not make it easy and this is one of those times. He doesn't understand why Rachel and now you are freaks but somehow Gar is never a freak. He has powers, too and as far as he's concerned, turning into a tiger is far more freakish than whatever you have going on. And he always acts like it's your fault, somehow. Rachel was just born like that, no one gets to pick their biological parents. And Gar and you were injected. How is that right? It hurts a little because Gar knows that if they weren't friends, he'd be the target one of Jason's freak rants.

"Is that what everyone meant by I'd get used to Jason?" You ask the room.

"Yeah." Gar answers and Dick nods. "He does that sometimes."

"Interesting." You hum quietly, your hands shaking slightly, Gar taking notice.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking between your hands and your eyes.

"Oh..." You quickly move your hands under the countertop and tug your sleeves down. "I'm, uh I'm fine." You fake a smile at him.

It's not that you really thought Jason might hit you, him hitting you over a shove didn’t even cross your mind. You don't really know if he's the type that gets mad and hits people, you don't really know him at all. But, you'd think that would have been a warning from someone if that were the case. It was more that you don't like getting yelled at apparently. It wasn’t an issue before Jerry but, now it seems to be another trigger.

"He wouldn't have hurt you." Dick assures you, as if reading your mind.

"Jason doesn't hit people here when he gets mad, just yells a lot." Gar assures you, following Dick's lead.

"I didn't think he'd hit me." You tell them with ease. "Got that throbbing thing in the back of my head when someone's going to." You remind them. "And I just...I'm not scared of him. Guess I just don't like being yelled at when someone is in my face." You look to the counter. "I'm fine, honest."

"Are you sure?" Gar asks.

"Yeah." You give him a soft smile. "Thanks though. I'm gonna eat." You get down and find a bowl in a cabinet, moving around Dick.

"Okay, I'm gonna go check on Jason then, make sure he's cooling down." Dick gives Gar a look and a nod toward you. Gar nods in response while Dick leaves to find Jason.

You make your cereal while Gar watches you. Your hands are still shaking and he feels bad. It's not his fault that Jason blew up because it's Jason. He blows up at everything but Gar could have defended himself. It's nice that you did. He's never had someone defend him like that but it got you yelled at by Jason and after you had, what Gar assumed to be, a pretty nice conversation the night before. He just worries about you.

"Hey," Gar starts as you take your seat back next to him. "Wanna do something today?" Gar asks.

You furrow your brows at him, before taking a bite of your cereal. "Like what?"

"What'd you wanna do?" Gar shrugs, figuring maybe you should be the one to decide. He just wants to hang out with you.

"Mmmm." You hum and think for a second. "Dye my hair." You chuckle softly.

"That's what you wanna do?" Gar asks.

"Mhm." You hums. "Always wanted to and you have green hair, Rachel's hair is purple." You shrug.

You just want a change. This is a big change, being at the tower but that doesn’t have anything to do with your appearance. You like how you look but you want something different. Your mom never let you dye your hair even though you really wanted to. This place, this place allows you to do that and to change something about yourself. It’s a way to take control of something. The way you see it, with all the bruising and swelling, you don’t look much like yourself anyway. Might as well change the hair, too.

"Okay." Gar beams at you. "We can go get whatever dye you want today and I can help. I'm not sure how much help I'll be but maybe we can get Rachel to help if you want." Gar rambles off and he seems so energetic and happy about it.

"Uh..." You stutter. "Okay, yeah that'd be fun. Thank you." The smile you give him is wide and filled of joy.

"What color?"

You tell him your favorite color, beaming at him. "Always thought that hair was cool." You smirk at him.

"We'll go when you're done eating." Gar gets up from his chair. "I'm gonna shower first."

"Have a blast." You grin to yourself, going back to your cereal. "Meet me in my room after?" You look back to him and he nods with a cheery smile before turning on his feet, and quickly heading down the hallway. "He's so cute." You say to yourself, going back to your cereal.

After Gar's shower, he met with you in your room. You were already dressed and ready to go, you even asked Rachel for help when you got back which Rachel was more than happy to help. Once Gar was ready, he was the one that asked Dick for some money before you left and off you went with Rachel, you feeling more comfortable having both Gar and Rachel with you. You realize how great it is that Rachel was willing to help because you never would have gotten something everything you needed.

When you got back, Gar and you met with Rachel in a bathroom. Rachel got everything together and get to work with your hair. You explained to Rachel that you still wanted some of your natural hair color but the majority of it to be dyed. Rachel understood what you were explaining while Gar seemed a little confused.

As Rachel helped with your hair, the three of you got talking about past lives. You all avoided all talk about trauma and tragic backstories and instead talked about your favorite movies and shows, music. If you'd ever been to a concert, the best places you've ever eaten, random stories about family and friends you had before everything. And while these conversations are going on, there's warmth and comfort that consumes you.

This is the longest you’ve gone without thinking about how your face looks or how your body is sore or Jerry. It's just the three of you and you feel so at home because Gar and Rachel make it so easy. And you wonder if this is what real friendship feels like.

Sure, you had friends before your mom died. But that was then and this is now. You had a small circle of friends but only one that you really relied on and could tell anything to. But then your mom died and it all got so messy and heavy. You couldn't inconvenience even your best friend with your problems over it. Your best friend never really understood the person you started to become after. Vengeful and spiteful and angry. And desperate and cold and detached. It struck like a hurricane right through your friendship.

You couldn't handle anything and you were always running from CPS. What kind of friend would you be if you endangered your best friend's mom by getting in trouble with CPS? You knew it was only a matter of time before they threatened to take your best friend away if they didn't give you up. At least, that's how you always saw it. It was always such a big fear and you couldn't put them through that, on the chance it did happen so you just left one day and never came back. But you weren't a very good friend then either.

You had all these plans of hunting down the Joker and even though you'd probably die, too, hunting him down would have made it worth it to you. To look him in the eyes and just try to hit him or shoot him, if you had a gun anyway. You knew you would never make it out alive and that was something you deemed to be okay because you didn't have anything worth living for anymore. Your dad went off to choose drugs over you, your mom died, your best friend not knowing how to handle anything. A suicide mission seemed like a pretty sweet deal at the time. But, now you’re here with Gar and Rachel, in this bathroom getting the hair you’ve wanted to try and maybe you have more worth living for.

"Okay, what do you think?" Rachel asks, shutting the blow-dryer off, proud of the dye job she's done.

You look in the mirror and your face lights up. Stripes of the color consume the majority of your head and you could not be happier in this moment. "I love it!" You squeal before turning around. "Thank you!" You hug Rachel quickly before turning back around and there's a sweet and amused smile on Gar's face.

"It looks really good on you." Gar's smile turns shy as you look to him.

"Y-you think so?" You asks, your stomach swirling with his words.

Gar nods. "Yeah, I like the color." Gar’s smile is the softest thing in the world.

"How cute." Rachel giggles before cutting it short as Gar looks at her with wide eyes. "It looks good, yeah." Rachel agrees.

"Thank you." You look at yourself again and you’ve never had this hair before, but it makes you feel more like yourself. It's probably the self-expression it's allowing you to have but you really like it. "And hey, now people will have something else to look at that's not my face." You laugh softly.

"You're face looks good, too." Gar says so quickly, you and Rachel barely catch it, but you do and you both look at him with raised brows. Rachel looks in between you and Gar, waiting for something to happen. This is the most entertainment she's had since they got to San Francisco. "I mean..." Gar stutters. "The, uh, the bruises and stuff, they're healing."

"Mhm." You hum with burning cheeks. "Thank you, Gar."

Gar feels the embarrassment wanting to eat him alive. He can't believe he said that out loud. Now Rachel is looking at him with knowing eyes and he can't help it. Sometimes, things just come out and then he feels like he has to backtrack and now he's embarrassed even though you didn't seem bothered by it. Which then makes him think he didn't need to add in the last comment about the bruises. Surely, you know he didn't mean just the bruises are looking fine now and the meant your whole face but now he doesn't know and he has got to get his brain to shut up for five seconds.

"There you are." Dick says, looking into the bathroom, the door wide open.

"Yes?" Rachel asks.

"Training room." Dick says.

Gar checks the time on his phone, seeing they were in fact late for their last training session. Shopping with you took a little longer than expected since you stopped for food and were having fun together. Then dying your hair took a while but Dick doesn't seem mad about it.

The three of you follow Dick to the training room where Jason is already waiting, as if he hadn't left the room since this morning. You sit on a bench and watch as you’re not allowed to train yet. Dick mostly supervises after giving them some instructions on what to do and then gives pointers. You mostly watch Gar and Jason.

It's interesting watching them. Jason is clearly the aggressor. You can't tell if it's all his pent-up aggression or if it's just his experience as Robin that makes him the aggressor but you find it interesting nonetheless. Gar and Rachel seem to work together to go against Jason even though they're all supposed to be working against each other. Gar works more on a defensive tactic, going for Jason after Jason comes for him or while Rachel has him distracted and that's when Gar gets a hit it. They're being trained by the same person but they fight differently and it seems to match their personalities.

Dick walks over to you as the other three continue to spar. "Like the new hair." Dick compliments you.

"Thanks, Rachel did it for me." You beam up at him.

"Feeling more comfortable?"

"Yeah..." You sigh. "I give you shit 'cause it's fun but I think I'm gonna like it here. Thank you again for taking me in." You say candidly. You make a mental note to thank him regularly for it.

It warms Dick's heart to know his efforts mean something. He just wants to be the mentor he wishes Bruce was and he just wants to help. It seems to be working, with you and Rachel and Gar, jury is still out on Jason. But Dick knows Jason will not be an overnight success.

"Good, I'm glad." Dick offers you a smile before walking back to where he previously was.

The rest of the training session goes by, Gar and Rachel going to you when they had a water break and talking. Jason opted to be by himself, Gar noticing the concern on your face and assuring you that he'll be calm and be over it the next day. But it doesn't quite sit right for you. You don't want him mad at you, you do like to mess with him in a fun banter way, not him being pissed at you.

You like to push people's buttons but you’re not too fond of people being actively mad at you. If there's a line you aren't supposed to cross, all someone has to do is tell you and you'll respect the line. You aren't about making people unnecessarily uncomfortable or mad. But you nod along with Gar anyway and eventually training ends. You stay behind with Jason, Gar hovers a little more than he would given the events of the afternoon but he does eventually leave the two of you alone.

"So, you gonna stay mad at me forever?" You ask as you walk over to Jason who's seated on a bench, getting a drink and ignoring you. "Come on," You groan. "Can you not handle a shove from me?"

Jason glares up at you. "Just shut up." He groans.

"Nope." You sit next to him, your leg touching his. "I'm sorry I shoved you." Jason's brows furrow at you and he doesn't think anyone has apologized to him since he's been here, for anything. "Honest, I should have left it alone but I provoked you further than I should have." You are sorry for it. Sure, Jason owes you an apology, too but you can apologize first.

"Sorry for what I said." Jason mumbles, swallowing his pride.

He never wants to hurt someone's feelings, not really. In the moment, absolutely but then after he feels horrible about it. He hates when other people make him feel weak. You shoving him from his seat, it made him feel weak and he hates it. It’s how he’s felt his entire life. Weak. So, when he feels weak or when someone pushes the wrong bottom, he just starts talking and going off. It just flows out of his mouth before he can even think about it. It's not an excuse, he just can't help it and he is sorry.

"To you and Gar." Jason lets out a sigh.

The corner of your smile pulls up. "I forgive you."

Jason glances at you and he can’t stay mad at you. Normally, he’s very good at holding grudges. He still has a grudge against a kid who pushed him down a slide when he was seven. He’s very good at holding grudges but you’ve got this smirk that says you’re up to no good and this look in your eyes that sends this electricity through his blood. He can’t explain it but he can’t stay mad at you.

"Did you still wanna train tonight when everyone goes to bed?" Jason turns his head towards you, twitching his brows up and the grin starts pull at his lips.

"If you're still willing."

"Someone's gotta show you how to do more than fucking shove someone." Jason scoffs but a smile pulls at his lips as he chuckles softly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, got powers now and never had issues on the streets, okay? People happen to like my quick wit and quips.” You lightly nudge him with your shoulder.

"Yeah," Jason chortles. "That's why no one fucked with you.” Jason nods his head and lightly nudges you back, not believing you.

"I'd like to think so, yes.” You hold your head up with pride and Jason has this genuinely kind smile on his face. “What time, boss?”

Jason shakes his head. “Midnight. Everyone is usually in their rooms or asleep.”

“Okay, I'll meet you here then." You smirk at him as you get up and lick your lips. He knows deep down he doesn't have a shot with you but his stomach burns with the thought of you. You get under his skin like no one else and he hates to admit it but he really likes it.

"Don't be late." Jason quips, his voice taunting.

You shake your head, turning around to face him again. “Shut the fuck up.” You laugh softly. “I’ll meet you here at midnight, on the dot.” You widen your eyes, mocking him before exiting the room.

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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years

Text

Everything I Wanted (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2,700 + Warning: Adult language, adult situations Premise: After all this time, her social media posts have a way of captivating him...until he turns the tables on her. Part 3 of Lovely and Ocean Eyes.

________________ Ethan walked down the corridor on a seemingly normal workday, far too aware that his steps were lighter and the smile he fought so hard to conceal made its appearance more often than not. For the sake of his reputation, he schooled his features into his usual unwelcoming and severe expression, though part of him worried that he was fooling exactly no one.

Perhaps his face betrayed the way his pulse picked up pleasantly at the memory of the shy smile she offered him every time they crossed paths. The simple gesture was enough to brighten his mood, no matter how stressful his day. Somewhere down the line, Ethan had surrendered to the effortless way Dr. Lilac Allende drove him to distraction.

His good mood quickly soured, however, when he walked past the locker room on the third floor. Typically, he studiously blocked out all the mindless conversations that drifted out into the hall, but a particular name caught his ear.

“Damn,” a tall, burly intern was saying as he glanced at his phone. “I knew Dr. Allende was hot but.. just wow.”

His friend closed the locker door and walked over to glance at the screen, nodding in approval. “What's her deal? She single?”

The first intern scoffed, almost derisively. “Thinking of asking her out, Reyes?”

Reyes looked unabashed, maintaining an easy grin that was almost arrogant. It made Ethan want to punch it right off his face. “Can't blame a guy for trying.”

“Is she still with Lahela? They were a thing a while back, I think?”

Ethan had the mad urge to step in and correct the false statement, but he abstained. The two morons before him had no right to Lilac's personal life.

Reyes stared at the phone screen again and gave a low whistle. “Her Pictagram is a work of art. The things I'd do–”

“The things you're going to do, Dr. Reyes, are your actual job duties,” Ethan said through girt teeth, stepping into the room.

Perhaps it was his sudden appearance or the downright murderous glare the older doctor was sending their way, but the pair of interns fumbled, the first one almost dropping the phone. By the time they straightened up to face Ethan, they looked far too rigid, uncomfortable, and downright terrified. The verbal lashing he unleashed on them was one for the books. In the end, there was no trace of arrogant smirks as both interns walked away, pale and with the extra workload Ethan assigned.

Finally alone, he exhaled a sharp, steadying breath. At least there were a few guarantees in life, even if things had changed: he could still reduce grown men to tears and these damn interns were going to drive him to an early grave.

Considerably calmer, Ethan produced his phone from his pocket and opened the too familiar Pictagram page. One glance at her latest picture and the two idiots' reactions made sense, even if they were still not justified.

Fucking hell.

Just like his moronic predecessors, Ethan almost dropped his phone, stifling a cough. Any trace of gentlemanly thoughts vanished as his eyes took in her bare shoulder, exposed so intentionally and coyly. All he could think about was running his lips along the curve of it, his fingers slowly tugging the black robe lower until it pooled on his floor.

Before his primal mind could add his teeth and the moans she'd reward him with to this fantasy, his eyes fell on the caption.

Stay?

Ethan could hardly fight back the grin the single word inspired. The previous morning, as she had stopped by his office to use his coffee machine, he pointed out how useless Pictagram was. Lilac was quick to remind him that he seemed to be enjoying it, referencing the reaction he'd had to her previous posts. Determined to save face, Ethan had blurted that he might even delete his account.

A smug smile over her shoulder had been her reply along with a sultry promise. “I bet I can make you change your mind.”

She had accomplished just that along with taking root in his every thought. The need to see her became so acute, that he sought her out in every hallway he turned into. Finally, he found her in one of the break rooms, laughing and chatting with her intern, Dr. Ortega.

“This coffee machine is the worst,” he heard Ortega complain. She rattled the cup as though the action would force it to hurry. “I can't believe I'm going to be late because of shit coffee.”

Lilac laughed. “Shit coffee is better than no coffee.”

“Spoken like someone who has a mysterious coffee source.”

With another laugh, Lilac mimed zipping her lips shut. Dr. Ortega snorted with laughter, which was a rare enough sight.

“At least rounds are not with Dr. Ramsey this morning,” Ortega continued as she sniffed disapprovingly at her cup. “I'd be dead meat for being even two minutes behind.”

“And that's considering the guy's mellowed out in the past few months,” a nurse chimed in from his place at the loveseat. “He was far grumpier before. Something or someone is putting that man in a good mood every night.”

Ethan felt his neck flare up, his eyes solely on Lilac, looking as lovely as ever and utterly unfazed.

“That poor soul,” Lilac commented so convincingly, Ethan almost believed it. “Whoever that is.”

The nurse had no reaction, invested in his newspaper as he was and Ortega threw a hesitant smile at Lilac.

“I always kind of thought you two had a thing,” she confessed.

Lilac did not even react, taking a sip of her to-go cup. “Because I'm his so-called favorite?” When Esme nodded, Lilac shrugged. “Being on his radar comes with its cons.”

At this, Ortega nodded solemnly. “Yeah, he's harder on you, for sure.”

That was his cue. With absolutely no preamble, he marched into the breakroom, startling the three occupants with his mere presence.

“Allende, if you are done with your morning gossip session, I'd appreciate you getting me those labs I asked for.”

Lilac pushed herself off the counter at once. “Yes, doctor.”

They stared at one another, neither betraying a single emotion.

“Now. It's not like lives depend on it or anything.”

Ortega shot Lilac a sympathetic look, no doubt reconsidering her previous thoughts of their involvement. Without another word, Lilac followed Ethan out of the break room. Once they were alone in a deserted hallway, Lilac raised a brow at him.

“You didn't ask for any labs,” she said at the same time Ethan blurted out, “'That poor soul'?”

Lilac laughed and he joined her with a chuckle soon after, their bodies comfortably gravitating closer to each other. His hands throbbed with the raw, poignant need to touch her and the blinding disappointment of being unable to. The way Ethan longingly looked at her then, drinking in every one of her beautiful features, he imagined he looked like some yearning nineteenth century gentleman straight out of an Austen novel.

“Mine was more believable,” she pointed out, that witty, playful challenge in her eyes. An Elizabeth Bennet to his hopeless and bewitched Darcy.

“Not remotely,” he returned without missing a beat. “No one would deem the person having sex with me every night as 'poor.'”

“They would when said person could barely walk the next day.”

That made Ethan pause, the bravado slipping as his eyes fell on her rosy lips. His breath caught audibly at his throat.

They were standing so close together now, eyes locked on each other with palpable magnetism. If anyone walked by they would be found out without a doubt. Even more so if Ethan gave into the burning urge to kiss her right there and then.

Lilac gave him a coquettish smirk. “Did you like my post?”

Ethan found his voice again. “It was…”

There was no appropriate word to describe the delicious, sinful perfection of it.

“Nice?” she teased.

“Dr. Reyes and his idiot friend definitely thought so.”

Lilac snorted. “That explains the DM that sits unopened in my inbox. Jealous?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Good. They're not the ones who have me in their bed every night.”

Ethan almost stuttered like an imbecile. He fought back all indecent thoughts and returned, “You forget I have you against multiple different surfaces, Rookie.”

She paused briefly, eyes dark as they traveled down his body and back to his eyes again.

Fuck, she had him. He knew the look too well.

“Or against no surface at all, as you proved on your birthday.”

Ethan cursed.

Everything in her expression suggested that she fancied herself the victor of their Pictagram debate. Matching her smug smirk with a dashing smile of his own, he decided then to give her a taste of her own medicine.

________________________

Ethan, ever the prophet, had predicted the board meeting they were both required to attend would be pointless.

He had been right, of course. They both sat in the boardroom forty minutes into it, listening to Dr. Cyrus drone on endlessly about something that had little to do with patient care. Listening was a generous term because Lilac remained focused on her laptop, diligently updating patient files. Ethan, sitting across from her, was doing much of the same, the glare of his screen reflecting on his glasses.

Soon, the buzzing of her phone on the table pulled her away from her concentration. Her heart leaped when she saw it was a notification alerting to his latest Pictagram post. Confused, Lilac glanced up at him but he was too invested in his work to notice.

After ensuring no one was paying her any mind, she opened the app and regretted it at once.

One quick glance at artfully sculpted muscles and Lilac was reduced to a coughing mess. Dr. Cyrus stopped mid sentence to glare at her. Everyone else in the room followed suit to stare.

“Dr. Allende, are you alright?” Naveen asked with concern.

Ethan wordlessly handed her a bottle of water, his lips quirking ever so slightly, his fingers brushing hers. After a quick sip, she mumbled, “I'm fine. Sorry.”

Convinced, they resumed the meeting.

Lilac, meanwhile, attempted to catch Ethan's eye to throw him a glare, but he remained laser focused on his screen. Having no other alternative, she returned her attention to the picture. Soon, she was texting him.

Your one follower approves.

Her phone dinged almost immediately after with his reply. Her pulse spiked with excitement, which was ridiculous because she slept with the man every day.

I am aware. We all saw.

Cheeky bastard.

That was a low blow, Ramsey. And with a picture I took too.

He almost smiled when he read that.

Pay attention, Rookie.

She bit her lip, glancing up at him. Ethan was the perfect picture of professionalism, his stoic expression betraying nothing as he worked. Her eyes returned to the picture, her cheeks flushing.

Oh, I am.

To the meeting.

Oh. Dr. Cyrus has my undivided but unwilling attention.

Liar, he returned at once. For a man who claimed to hate texting, he was a master at sending them without anyone's notice.

I can tell because you actually look interested in what you're doing.

Lilac almost laughed out loud at that. She quickly turned her head away from the front of the table to avoid suspicion.

I am studiously taking notes.

Unless you're jotting down all of Cyrus's brown-nosing remarks to Naveen, I highly doubt that.

This time, a small squeak of laughter escaped her. Luckily for her, she was able to mask it perfectly with a dainty cough. No one at the table gave her a second glance, except for Ethan. Handsome as ever, his mouth quirked ever so slightly.

I don't need to take notes on that, she replied. I already know how to get on my boss's good side.

She watched as Ethan imperceptibly read her text, having no visible reaction.

Time to go in for the kill.

And the best side to get on is under him.

This time, it was Ethan who sputtered slightly and coughed. A furious blush started to color his neck and ears in a way that was entirely too satisfying. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't finished yet.

Although he actually enjoys me on top of him too.

Those piercing blue eyes found hers instantly, so dark and smoldering that she was struck motionless for a second. A familiar, molten heat pooled in her belly as Ethan's lustful gaze remained on her, unwavering. The longer they stared at each other, magnetized, the more evident it became that he would take her right there and then if it weren't for the company surrounding them.

When the meeting was adjourned for a break twenty minutes later, Lilac was assured that her texts had the intended effect. The tall, hard body of her boyfriend pressed hers flush against the door of his office the second it closed. A second after that, his full lips hungrily kissed her neck, his powerful hands gripping handfuls of her hips.

“You're determined to kill me,” he muttered darkly against her skin.

“But what a way to go,” she said in a whisper that gave way to a moan at the last word.

He agreed in the form of a husky groan that resonated deliciously against her throat. With almost lazy effort, he turned her body to face the door, strong hands guiding her backside to press urgently against him.

“The way you tease me, Lilac,” he whispered hotly in her ear, sending a powerful shiver through her. His hips began guiding her toward the nearest table with ease, his fingers slowly skimming their way up her thighs and under her skirt.

“You like it,” she challenged breathlessly.

Ethan hummed against her shoulder, pulling her blouse down in a perfect rendition of her post.

“It's torture.” Another searing kiss. “Seeing the way you look at me and not being able to take you against the nearest wall.”

Lilac had a witty response ready, but at that exact moment, his thumbs hooked around the lacy fabric of her underwear.

“Are these for me?” His voice was nothing more than gravel. Lilac's legs quivered, every sense proudly dominated by him.

“Yes,” she moaned, eyes fluttering closed in a heady rush. He had her bent over the table, her skirt bunching to indecent heights around her thighs.

Without another word, he removed the garment skillfully, sliding it slowly down her legs and bunching it in his fist. Lilac pressed herself further against him, aching painfully for him.

“Use them to tie me up,” she suggested in a ragged whisper.

Ethan cursed.

His hips jerked against hers, sliding the thick, hard column of his body against her. Lilac was so overcome with maddening need that her arms almost gave out from balancing her on the table.

She never found out if Ethan was delirious enough to take her whispered advice because both of their pagers went off with infuriating insistence.

“The meeting from hell that never ends,” he groaned. “Break is over.”

Lilac straightened against his chest, smirking when he made no movement to let her go. “To be continued?”

Ethan leaned in to kiss her neck. “Your bed or mine?”

Lilac swiveled in his hold, facing him with a smile that made her cheeks hurt. “Doesn't matter as long as it's you next to me.”

He matched her smile with an unfairly charming one of his own.

Though they were needed at the Board meeting, they stole another minute together in each other's arms. Lilac studied his handsome face briefly, feeling her heart restart as it often did when she realized he was finally hers. Perhaps he was hers in secret for the time being but he was hers nonetheless. The thought that after all the strife and hardship, she still found herself where she belonged, in his arms, made her smile grow wider.

“What?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“I love you,” she told him, not for the first time.

It was his turn to give her a smile so incandescent that it stole her breath. “That's a relief,” he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Given that I am madly and desperately in love with you, Rookie.”

_____________

Author’s Note: Are we okay after those two new OH chapters?

I’m not! I have some ideas for future fics but we’ll see if the writing gods are in my favor.

Thank you for reading this senselessness. I love you for it.

-Bree

_______________

Please let me know if I need to add/remove you. You might have asked me already but I can barely keep track of my life atm. Sorry!

@lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite | @angela8756

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction

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