#This is angst

[haydenbadartist]

Let me name the stars for you 🌟

When I read this poem I instantly thought of them

[catofthecanals289]

I could see for miles (and miles) | 16.1k | maxiel fic

I need to talk to you.

Max stares at the words until his eyes get blurry, until the row of blue bubbles, text after text after text to Daniel left unanswered, disappears behind fuzzy grey as he drops his head into his hands, heels pressing into his eye sockets, his vision nothing but buzzing static now. If he scrolled up far enough, he knows he’d get to the last message Daniel sent back to him. A simple thumbs up in reply to Max asking if he’d remember to pop by the shop on the way back from his hike with Blake. They’d run out of treats for Jimmy and Sassy. That had been a week ago.

--- A fic I wrote for my best friend @lilyrizzy 💚 as christmas gift

Thank you to Leah for making the header! And to Linnea for giving this a quick read and assuring me it didn't suck so I it would do as a gift :)

[dez-ku]

OK but.... has anyone tried to draw angst spicynoodles that MK died and Redson is just making that mini flame of his looking like MK and is waving at him like how MK is????

Idk how to explain it bc it's like MK is Red's light you know????????

How tf do I explain this

And he just try to touch flame MK and accidentally just make it poof away which reminded redson that he really is gone 🧍‍♂️

He missed the feeling of MK's touch and hugs, that "annoying" voice, his smile and laugh

Everything about him, he just missed his presence so much which made Redson feel like there's more in life, opening redson's eyes bc of MK 🚶‍♂️

[nelkcats]

Hood Assistant

Prompt Part 1 Part 5 Part 6 Ao3 Next

Part 7

-----

To be fond of dancing is a certain step towards falling in love.

------------------

"I see, thanks for confirming Jay" Danny forced a smile as he continued to look around the room.

The apartment yelled Red Hood in a unique way, but it also yelled Jay and that had him extremely confused, although it made sense if he took into account that the two of them were dating each other.

Since at least three of Bill's bizarre theories made sense, then most of them must be true, and Danny couldn't deny that anymore.

Jason was dating Red Hood

A reality that made his head spin and his heart ache, what was he supposed to do now with his silly crush? It was not easy to stop an illusioned heart

Though if he read all the signs correctly then Jay was enjoying his company,and maybe just for a couple of days he could fool himself into thinking he had a chance. Even if the current situation was just to help him face his own fears.

"So when will your roommate come back?" Danny asked worriedly, if the vigilante would return soon, there was no point in getting his hopes up.

"He's on a trip with his team, so definitely not anytime soon" Jason apologized, if the cute boy in front of him had already swallowed the lie that he was living with Red Hood then nothing could be worse. There would be no consequences for him, not at all.

Jason steadfastly refused to acknowledge the endless number of books that were precisely about avoiding lying to others because lies could collapse like a house of cards in the face of a strong wind.

It's for his own good, and this will not bring me any consequences at all.

Maybe if he repeated it to himself enough times it would come true, no matter how much his conscience was screaming at him. Damn charming boy who decided to make him feel things in his own home!

"Well, we're officially glued to each other for at least a couple of days" Danny stated a little brighter, it wouldn't hurt to follow Johnny's advice and allow himself to be happy for a couple of days. A bit risky, but it had enough advantages to consider it.

"It seems so, but we already had breakfast" Jason perked up when he saw that Danny had put the subject of his roommate aside.

He realized that the boy was right, if it was a new formula and Danny was the only human being affected then the bats would take a little longer to create a cure, although staying stuck with him for a few days didn't sound bad. His company was fun, he made him laugh and his stupid heart pounded every time he was around him.

His treacherous heart had not understood that he couldn't fall in love, not now or ever, no matter how much his head recited the entire book of Pride and Prejudice from head to toe, he was not in love, he couldn't be.

Even if the boy was cute, and talked about Disney rats as if they were a fact, or looked at him in admiration when he did something as simple as cook and enjoyed his food as if it had fallen from heaven.

"There's a lot to do besides eat breakfast Jay" Danny smiled as he pulled his hand to follow him, to which Jason didn't put up much resistance.

He definitely noticed the little fang sticking out of Danny's lip, and how the boy was biting his lower lip as if it were bothering him, but he decided not to comment on it yet.

Danny was avoiding with all his might not to bite Jason at that moment, his hunger for ectoplasm was more active than ever, but Jason had no ectoplasm on his body, he tried to remind his head.

He was obviously failing at it, because his new vampiric tendencies wanted to sink his fangs in and sip his crush like juice. But that was wrong, very wrong. And he wasn't a vampire! he winced internally for comparing himself to Vlad for a minute.

“Do you know what I like to do when I'm bored?” Danny asked, swinging his feet from side to side, trying to drive the taste of the ectoplasm out of his mind and diverte the energy meant for biting into the continuous movement of his feet.

"Mutilate fruits and vegetables beyond recognition?" Jason teased, if he had noticed his sudden nervousness he didn't show it.

"Besides that smart ass" Danny rolled his eyes at the comment.

"I have no idea, but it doesn't look like you can stay still for long" Jason pointed out curiously.

"You're right, I don't like sitting still" Danny agreed with him "that made my older sister really desperate, so she taught me something"

Jason had no idea he had a sister, so he decided not to mention it. He would definitely bring up the subject at another time.

"Did she taught you how to swing on expensive chandeliers and a little gymnastics?" Jason asked, if that was the case then it would be a complete coincidence because that was precisely what Dick had taught him when he was a child.

Unfortunately they didn't have the same amount of energy and Jason didn't find funny being dropped off buildings to "learn how to fly", he'd broken his arm once!

"I don't think she knows how to do that," Danny muttered to himself "but no, she taught me how to dance"

"You? Dancing?" Jason raised an eyebrow.

It's not that he believed it impossible, it's just that dancing required a lot of patience even if it was mostly about movement; Danny was definitely not the definition of patience.

"Yes, I like to dance, it's quite relaxing and it helps drain energy" Danny smiled, he had figured out how to divert his new energy "but let me ask you a few questions first"

"I don't see how that's relevant, but as you wish Doll" Jason agreed easily. He had no reason not to trust him with dance questions

"Have you ever danced with Death?" Danny offered his hand in invitation. It was a last minute decision, and the question probably sounded strange but he couldn't help it.

"One time, it wasn't a pleasant experience." Jason took the offered hand. Thinking about death wasn't very satisfying but he was curious where the boy was going with those questions. 

"Would you like to try again?"  Danny pulled him to the center of the room with a smile "I promise I'll do better"

"I didn't picture you as a grim reaper," Jason teased as he followed him into the center of the room, trying to ignore all the implications.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not" Danny said cryptically, although it was obvious he was joking "Anyway, I promise to treat you better than she did"

"Okay, but we're going to need some music" Jason commented, reaching over to take his phone.

"I have it solved, pretty boy" Danny hit the play button on his phone as a song began to play. Did he have his phone the whole time? Jason wondered.

I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along

The song didn't sound familiar to Jason, but the melody relaxed him, and he began to follow in Danny's footsteps. Which seemed to be looking at him with a smile on his face as he gently swayed across the living room.

Now in its place is something new

Jason recalled the happy moments after getting out of Ra's contaminated pit. When he thought that he would be listed as a villain but instead the inhabitants of Crime Alley began to follow him, considering him their protector. When he was greeted with a hug instead of a frown, so similar but different from when he was a child.

I hear it when I look at you

Danny continued to take careful steps as he moved around the room. He liked being with Jason, it made him feel free in a way his family never could.

Jazz had been his only salvation, the only escape he could allow himself, and yet when she left Amity he didn't feel bad; just empty, a little sad. Maybe it was because he knew he was stopping his sister, one way or another.

Danny was aware that Jazz had never been able to afford a normal childhood because of him, that their parents meant well but their intentions were not good to take care of something more than themselves

With simple songs I wanted more, perfection is so quick to bore

Jason remembered his family nights, when they were all together. Or at least pretending to be; The times when they got together to watch Cass's dance recitals. The moment the whole family hosted a small dinner to celebrate Tim's promotion to CEO.

When everyone was a normal family instead of reluctant allies, when his family showed love to each other without words, which never worked for them anyway. And he remembered hating having to come out of the perfect picture.

He remembered how much he'd missed Dick's little pranks, having to force Tim to get some sleep, cooking for Cass, even having an afternoon explaining Damian about art history.

But he didn't belong in that painting. The moment he died he was banned from Bruce Wayne's beautiful family, the boy who was welcome in that loving home was left underground.

He returned to life worse than ever and without the right to return home, the small moments in which they seemed to accept him were only fantasies and he felt like crying or shouting at the world for that injustice.

I'm Jason Todd, and as much as you screw me up, I'm still standing.

He just didn't know where he was standing.

You are more beautiful by far

Danny watched a series of complicated expressions pass over Jason's face and decided to help, he turned him around as they talked "Don't think about it, even if it causes you pain, you must remember that you are still standing"

Danny knew a lot about having complicated emotions on different situations, and maybe he wasn't the best at giving advice but it didn't hurt to try "sometimes, it's better to accept that acting is the best solution"

Jason knew they weren't on the same line of conversation but answered anyway "No, leaving means dying."

Leaving meant going back to his family, meant waiting for acceptance where he had no right. Exposing them to danger out of a selfish desire to have someone to depend on again.

Leaving meant going back to being the scared little boy inside an explosion that led to his death. It meant talking about how he felt even if no one was willing to listen to his words. Jason was tired of being the one to get scared, the one to protect others, but what choice did he have? There was no choice but to face the world head on, get angry, and do something about it where no one else was.

Danny looked at him a little confused but remembered what Jazz had told him "On the contrary, leaving means living before you die"

He would know, he had died because of his parents desire for knowledge, he forced himself to be there for others even when there was no one for him. He refused to accept that there was someone other than him to solve the world's problems, no matter how heavy they were. The city blamed all its problems on the recently dead boy, and he did nothing to contradict them.

Sam and Tucker knew it, they had tried so many times to get the city to leave him alone, but they were just kids. None of them could see an alternative, a different way to act, a way to save themselves as well as the others. Danny gave up because no one had saved him, and maybe no one would ever come to save him.

He gave up to such an extent that he forgot that it was possible to save himself. That he could learn how to swim in the sea that was drowning him. That respirators existed for those who could not breathe.

He chained himself to a duty that was not his and lost everything he cared about, until his home felt like a death trap, his parents like enemies, and his city like a prison. But over the years he got it, he didn't have to be there, he had to act fast, move, leave.

The reason he came to Gotham was because he needed to live again, he needed to remember that he was as alive as he was dead.

"Jason, it's okay to wish others well, to wish them to be perfectly happy, but just like everyone else, you must also allow yourself to be happy in the same way" The halfa decided to say as he continued the dance.

Maybe it was a pointless comment, and it had nothing to do with what Jay was thinking, but he needed to let him know, for his own sake as well as his.

Our flaws are who we really are

Jason allowed himself to think on his words for a moment. Danny had no idea of his identity as Red Hood, would he still say the same after finding out? It was unlikely, but he liked to believe so.

"What makes you so sure it's the best solution?" He asked quietly, when Danny talked about acting he thought maybe he should act in response to his own fears.Take action and leave them behind.

"You don't know, I think that's the thrill of living" Danny smiled as he increased the speed of his steps "sometimes you have to take risks hoping for the best"

One thing he learned after he died was that fear of taking risks was unnecessary. If something was going to happen it would, even if you tried to avoid it in every possible way. It was just the way fate worked. What people used to forget is that they were in control of their own fate.

"Taking risks could get you killed," Jason stated with a frown, following his movements a little more robotically than he intended.

"I'll teach you something that someone important to me taught me" Danny stated, remembering one of Clockwork's lessons.

I used to hear a simple song

"What will you tell me? That there is no point in fearing death because there is so much to live for? Someone gave me that talk a long time ago" and he had died for having listened to it, for throwing himself without precautions like his father had taught him.

"No Jay, nobody wants to die," Danny assured, recalling his own experience "even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there"

"So?" Jason frowned, not quite understanding.

"However, we all end up dying right?" Danny smiled sadly "some sooner than others, but no one escapes it"

"This isn't making me feel any better, Doll" Jason said.

"I didn't mean to make you feel better, just to tell you that there's no point in being afraid to act because death will always be there, it will still do it if you decide not to act, you know?" Danny said as he pulled him closer to himself, even if he was a little short he could lead the dance.

Jason sighed accepting the point as he tried to relax. Maybe Danny was right and he should stop being so cautious around what he loved.

But he had spent so much time being afraid of hurting them that he didn't know how to stop. Maybe things will get better now. Even if most of his siblings backed away from him out of caution, it was the best he'd been in a long time.

That was until you came along

Jason noticed at that moment that the pits weren't acting, he wasn't angry. He was sad, desperate, maybe a little heartbroken but definitely not angry. For some reason Danny helped with that, something in that carefree boy with cooking problems made him feel better.

Neither of the two boys noticed how Danny was slowly feeding on the corrupted ectoplasm the longer they maintained contact. How  his fangs were getting smaller and his urge to bite lessened. The halfa assumed it was just a positive effect of dancing.

Jason just felt better overall as he continued with the dance. He attributed it to his growing feelings for the cute boy. Something about that goofy boy, who had a problem with taking care of himself and a lot of mysteries wrapped around just appealed to him. Maybe it was time to start accepting it, at least until the effects of the gas wore off and they both had to go back to the real world far from the apartment.

You took my broken melody

Jason closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the song. He felt broken, the pits made him feel like a damaged product but it would be hypocritical of him to say that because he told Danny that people couldn't be defective right? It was time to start believing his own words.

Humans weren't born defective, and radioactive pits weren't going to change that. He just had to keep repeating that long enough for him to gain the courage to act on his words. Until the moment he allowed himself to return to the side of the family and recognize that he deserved love too, the love that many of them were willing to give him.

Danny also closed his eyes, letting himself go, a little guilty for having to teach Jay such a bittersweet lesson, Clockwork wasn't the best with feelings, nor how to express them. Clockwork was time, time was honest in every way and did not embellish the truth.

Clockwork was his mentor and yet they had met because he was destined to die. Apparently when time doesn't like the fate you're taking he decides it is better to let you know. Danny wondered if Clocky would yell at him if falling for Jason was a bad idea.

And now I hear a symphony

When they both opened their eyes, they were smiling. By some miracle neither of them had tripped over something in the room, or maybe it was just fate acting but they felt a little better.

They finished the song tired, with their hair completely tousled but feeling lighter than they had ever felt before. Who would have thought that a dance could free so much of what you have trapped? And make you think about the situation a little more.

Maybe ignoring the world for a couple of days while staying inside the apartment wasn't such a bad idea after all. Perhaps it was the best idea either of them had ever come up with.

Danny pointed at his phone again and Jason nodded. It was morning and they had a lot of time to waste, so dancing a little more was not a bad idea.

"Love" sang the little crow watching them from the couch, for some reason he had stopped speaking during the entire exchange, maybe he understood the scene, or he was just tired.

───────────────

"No, no, no, no, I refuse" Johnny said as he pushed Amorpho out of the apartment.

The moment Danny had walked through that door with red eyes, he knew that was definitely not his usual roomie but an impostor.

"No refunds, until Danny gets back from the alleged kidnapping this is a roomie swap" Amorpho sneered as he pushed Johnny into the apartment again "Move over, a new star has come to town"

"But that could take DAYS" Johnny grumbled. He was glad that Danny was with his crush, maybe making some headway. What he didn't like was an intruder in his temporary haunt.

"It's good than I'm replacing him at school then" Amorpho scoffed, stealing Johnny's spot on the couch, Johnny dramatically inhaled and pointed at him in offense.

"MY COUCH" The motorcyclist complained. It had been his couch since the day he'd arrived, which might not sound like much, but by now Johnny had already claimed the couch as his own. His place.

"Our couch" Amorpho corrected him.

He was well aware that the ghost didn't like his company, but he needed a place to stay since he had been dragged to Gotham anyway.

Besides, now that he had new friends and had joined the drama club to star in Beauty and the Beast then he had to stay until the production was over.

If he was completely honest, even if Danny was bounding back out that door in a matter of minutes he'd deny him from going back to college for a long time. He had already put enough effort into attending that supposed advanced physics class for all his efforts to be despised.

Shadow simply sighed as they peeked out of Johnny's shadow to see the new temporary resident and went back into hiding, they weren't going to deal with that.

On the other hand, Cujo woke up and began to bark at the two ghosts until they paid attention to him.

"What's wrong Cujo?" Johnny asked, preferring to pay more attention to the pup than to the couch usurping ghost.

Cujo grunted as he held up a very particular can of soup, to which Johnny cocked his head in confusion.

"That's Danny's ectoplasm" the motorcyclist stated before realizing the problem "DANNY LEFT WITHOUT HIS ECTOPLASM"

"Is that a bad thing?" Amorpho asked curiously looking at the can, honestly it only brought back bad memories "Gotham has enough ectoplasm for him"

"Sure, but Danny's been feeding on pure ectoplasm instead of human food for a while, do you know what that means?" Johnny put his hands on Amorpho's shoulders and started to shake him "he'll have a reaction!"

"How bad can it be?" Amorpho snorted.

"He'll start biting the floor" Johnny said seriously, remembering Lunch's story of the first time she had to deliver emergency ectoplasm to Danny's new haunt because the halfa had run out of reserves "his body will look for the nearest ectoplasm and I'm sorry if I I don't want to become a teether toy for halfas"

"Danny is far from here" Amorpho brushed off the concern.

"But we're the purest ectoplasm in the area," Johnny stated, shaking the can.

"Okay, let's go find him and give him his silly ectoplasm," Amorpho grumbled, "where is he though?"

Cujo groaned as he lay down on the floor, his new caretakers were useless and he wished Danny would come back soon.

Oblivious to the ghosts, Gotham had a perfectly accessible source of ectoplasm below the city, and a slightly impure source right next to the halfa.

───────────────

After a morning in which they both danced their hearts out, Danny and Jason had decided to take a nap, they never let go of each other's hand. Of course, when Jason woke up he didn't expect to see a suspicious shadow moving through his kitchen. The crow was happily sleeping next to the window.

"What are you doing in my house?" Jason questioned absently before noticing that indeed, there was someone there "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?"

"I want waffle fries" Dick came out of the darkness with an empty plate, looking at his brother with a pleading face.

"I'm not going to cook for you right now" Jason said offended "What am I, your personal chef?"

"Since you're the only one who can cook, yes" Dick nodded, offering his empty plate again.

"That's a complete lie, you could have asked Alfie and you know it" Jason pointed at him accusingly.

Before the two began arguing among themselves, the halfa decided it was better if they noticed him, he assumed Jay had forgotten he was in the room.

"Um, Jay?" Danny tugged at Jason's nightshirt, hiding himself from the sight of the guy who randomly walked into the house "Who is he?"

Danny was lucky to decide not to attack the sudden threat, because the two of them seemed pretty close to each other, however, who walks into someone else's house randomly to order fries?

"Oh, you had a guest" Dick said stupidly.

"Yes, I have a guest," Jason growled in annoyance "Would you mind explaining to him what you're doing here, officer fries?"

Jason and Dick had a staring contest, challenging the other to speak first. However, Dick lost first because Jason nodded towards his empty plate and he took the cue.

If I talk I'm not going to cook anything for you

"I'm sorry, I'm officer Richard Grayson, I usually contact this young man to give him the details of the cases in which he is involved" Dick said clearing his throat, it seemed that being a police officer had served him well.

"Do you get into a lot of trouble?" Danny looked at Jason, concerned, dating Hood must really put him in danger.

"Yes, as Hood's assistant" he said emphasizing the title while looking at the officer "I'm usually the one who talks to the police and stuff, so we're very familiar with each other"

Officer Grayson nodded but Danny looked at the empty plate with a raised eyebrow, he didn't quite believe them.

"Still totally a Dick move, mate" Danny pointed at the officer, who tried to cover his laughter at the comment with a cough "you don't go into other people's houses and demand food"

"And yet I'm going to cook his dumb fries." Jason rolled his eyes as he snatched the empty plate from Dick's hands "come on Danny."

"I was informed that you were involved in Scarecrow's attack" Dick said curiously "is that why you guys are so close?"

Inwardly, Dick wondered if the union was really due to Scarecrow's attack and not his brother's new crush. Maybe it could be both, considering Jason “Pitter” Todd looked so possessive of the civilian when he took him away. 

"You're a very nosy police officer" Jason shot him a stink-eye "we found the effects wear off for him with physical contact"

"You should probably inform the bats," Dick said offhandedly, though the message was obvious. I'll tell the bats.

"Bats are very nosy, they don't need more information about it" Jason refused. Don't you dare.

"However, it might be useful for them to have more information to combat the gas" Dick replied. They need to know.

"It's irrelevant information, they don't need to know" Jason said. They don't need to know about Danny.

Danny just watched the discussion not knowing if he should interrupt. He felt he was missing something but he was never good at reading between the lines.

"Excuse me, why would it help to tell the bats?" Danny asked the officer, frowning "I know they're fascinating animals, but I don't see how they can be of any help,"

"You don't know who the bats are?" Dick questioned in shock, if the guy worked for Hood he should know.

"He's not from Gotham," Jason hastened to clarify "The Bats are a group of vigilantes who dress up as bats to fight crime"

"So, furries?" Danny cocked his head considering the new information.

"If you say it like that it sounds horrible" Dick grimaced, although if you looked at it from another angle they really did

"There's nothing wrong with that, my friend Tucker is one, it's a matter of taste I think" Danny shrugged.

"Wait, didn't you say you've been living in Gotham for a few months?" Jason raised an eyebrow. "How come you've never heard of the Bats or even Crane?"

"Well, I think I did but…" Danny thought about his first days in Gotham.

───────────────

Danny was tired, after running away from Amity he needed a place to stay but why did it have to be in New Jersey? Something bad always happens in New Jersey! According to Sam.

He looked at the city sign that said "Welcome to Gotham City, the worst place to live" and even though the latter was written in graffiti he smiled, well at least it felt like home..

However, the smile faded from his face as soon as he saw a clown laughing at a guy in a bat costume while he enrolled in his new university; he wasn't going to judge their clothing choices, but why a clown?

He found out later that the madman was called "Joker", (some self-assigned nickname, perhaps?) and caused a lot of destruction, to the point where the city had something called "Joker insurance", apparently the furry also had "Batman insurance" for property damage.

The halfa decided to classify them as rogues of the city. Amity had a lot of them before the portal closed, and perhaps they were in competition with each other to see who had the most control in Gotham.

So when his classmate Amy mentioned that Batman had destroyed her house to catch  Dr. Freeze he frowned.

Batman must be very possessive of Gotham's control.

As he explored the city in search of an apartment he met some very colorful people: a bat man, a crocodile man, a woman dressed as plants, more clowns and even two cats!

Maybe Gotham just dressed so extravagantly out of habit, and it wasn't really a weird thing, they were just all weird by default, or a lot of cosplayers.

Then when he visualized a boy with bat ears he shrugged. He must be part of a theme band, or maybe he's a fan of that Bat-man guy.

When he "borrowed" his apartment in Crime Alley he decided to relax and ignore all the rumors. Soon after, his university was destroyed by this "Joker" guy and he had to take online classes for a while.

The Goons sometimes talked about people he didn't understand "Poison Ivy" "Catwoman" "Harley Quinn" he guessed they were code-speaking by nicknames; he decided to ignore it and ask someone later, he didn't want to be nosy and he doubted it would affect him in the near future.

By the time face-to-face classes returned, he noticed that many of his classmates were whispering about a Scarecrow man, which he considered rude so he shut down the rumors. You shouldn't talk behind others' backs after all.

───────────────

"I heard of Batman, but I thought he was a very possessive rogue, I had no idea he was a vigilante" Danny shrugged "or had an entourage."

"It's not an entourage!" Dick exclaimed "it's camaraderie and mutual respect"

"Yes, an entourage of bats" the halfa nodded as he followed Jason into the kitchen.

"No wait, you thought Batman was a villain?" Jason smiled broadly, he needed to share that with his other siblings.

"Fights with others, causes property damage, he's possessive of the city" Danny began to count on his fingers "Yeah, it seemed like villainous behavior"

"But he also donates to the city, fights the real villains and keeps the streets safe" Dick replied.

"No, from what I heard Bruce Wayne donates to the city, even though fighting bad guys is a good reason I thought he was doing it out of possessiveness" Danny clarified.

"You have no idea about villains or vigilantes but you know exactly who Bruce Wayne is?" Jason raised an eyebrow, taking out the materials to cook the potatoes.

"Well, I had to know who to run from, obviously" Danny said, rolling his eyes.

"Why would you run from Bruce Wayne?" Dick asked feeling doubtful "he's just a playboy with a lot of kids"

"I don't like millionaires" Danny narrowed his eyes "and I remember reading that he had a son named Richard, just like you"

"Okay, you got me, he's my dad" Dick sighed, there was no point in denying it if the boy was paranoid with millionaires.

Although neither of the other two knew about it, Danny was very paranoid about people with money and big houses. He investigated Bruce Wayne to get out of his way, just like Lex Luthor and Oliver Queen, Vlad had left him a bad experience that he didn't plan to repeat.

"I'm sorry for your loss" Danny patted Dick's shoulder solemnly.

"I'm not dead" Dick said, offended.

"If you're not offended, why don't you go back to the mansion and have Alfred cook your fries, eh?" Jason smirked as he pointed at Dick with a knife.

"You're scary when you have a knife in your hand," Dick pointed out, though he didn't seem threatened at all "But I didn't want to upset Alfie, I moved a long time ago" 

"Or you didn't want to see Bruce, you probably got into a fight with him again," Jason pointed out as he went back to his task of cutting potatoes with one hand.

The halfa tried to help him by cutting another part of the potatoes, but most of his potato pieces were jagged. So he frowned and tried to do a little better.

"Again, sorry for your loss" Danny repeated "millionaires can't be trusted, I get it officer"

Every millionaire has a secret basement and something to hide. The halfa refrained from saying out loud, it would be impolite to speak ill of the father of the non-guest.

Dick rolled his eyes, even if Jason wasn't wrong and he had fought with Bruce, he wouldn't let him know. It was quite obvious that the family had some problems with each other.

"Oh, who's Alfie?"  Danny asked remembering the name "The only thing I understood is that he could cook"

"He's a cat," Jason said nonchalantly, taking the jagged potato wedges Danny made along with his own and starting to cook them.

"No, he's my butler" Dick corrected his younger brother before Danny had any ideas. He already had weird theories with millionaires, surely he didn't need fuel to theorize about butlers too.

"But it's also a cat" Jason said again. It was quite easy to tease his older brother at the moment, and since his roles were usually opposite, he was having fun.

"He's a butler cat who can cook?" Danny asked, more and more confused. The mental image of a small white cat with a frying pan flashed into his mind and he chuckled. He reminded him of one of the videos he had seen online.

"Alfred is a Wayne family butler" the policeman said with a sigh "but yes, we also have a cat named Alfred"

Dick congratulated himself for not saying ours throughout the conversation, he was doing a good job of keeping Jason's cover. Even if the two people in front of him were getting a bit infuriating.

Maybe he shouldn't have randomly interrupted Jason after he faced a Scarecrow attack, but he had a huge craving for waffle fries, and both Alfred and Jason were the only ones who knew how to make them correctly.

"Doesn't that get confusing quickly?" Danny said, feeling a bit queasy from all the going back and forth, the rich really did have weird traditions.

"Probably, my little brother loved Alfred the butler and decided to name the cat after him" Dick shrugged, there was nothing that could be done when Damian decided to name his new pets after something, and as long as Alfred didn't get offended by it, it was fine.

"Rich people really do have weird hobbies" Danny whispered to Jason as he handed over more of the potato wedges.

"Yeah, I don't know how they handle all the luxury" Jason whispered back with a grin.

He was well aware that his older brother was listening to him perfectly, but he didn't care. He really didn't know how they managed to bear all the luxury and details that the mansion had, there were times when it was too much.

Deciding not to mention their conversation, Dick began to evaluate them. They seemed quite comfortable with each other, even if Danny really needed the physical contact he thought Jason would be more reluctant to accept.

Could it be that his brother was in love?

"Here are your waffle fries Dick" Jason put the perfectly done fries in front of the police officer, who looked at them with stars in his eyes.

"You're a kitchen angel!" Dick exclaimed as he began to eat them, they tasted as good as he remembered.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Jason huffed as he put another two batches of fries in front of him and Danny, they were more irregular in shape and indistinct, but Jason didn't seem bothered about it.

Danny's heart raced as he realized Jason was specifically eating the potatoes he'd cut up, even if they didn't look like they should. He couldn't help but smile as he stole a few.

"Hey Doll, don't be a thief" Jason slapped the hand who was stealing from him as he pushed the fries away from the halfa's reach.

"I'm not the one insulting a police officer" Danny grumbled under his breath as he decided to stick with his perfectly cooked slice of waffle fries that Jason had handed him. They were very well made but he wanted the effort of both of them.

Jason ignored the pleading face Danny was sending him as he ate the misshapen fries, he didn't know why he felt possessive towards them but he did.

"But he wasn't insulting me" said Dick, confused by the comment, although it was a bit unintelligible due to the amount of fries he had in his mouth at that moment.

"He called you Dick and multiple variants of it a couple of times" Danny pointed out in confusion, that was obviously an insult.

"Besides, don't be an animal and swallow before you speak" Jason scolded.

"You read that my name was Richard but you don't know that my nickname is Dick?" The policeman said in disbelief, maybe the boy was bad at investigation.

"Did any of your friends hate you? Or did your parents?" Danny asked with concern, surely no one would choose that nickname voluntarily.

"I have no idea what you're implying, I had a very good family, and my friends loved me very much" Dick replied, narrowing his eyes.

"Did you choose that nickname willingly?" The halfa told him worried "Did you know what you were getting yourself into?"

"I'm not from this country, I came in a circus" Dick rolled his eyes "and my nickname is beautiful, thank you very much"

"Beautiful for a big Di-" Danny tried to say but was stopped by Jason putting a hand over his mouth and shaking his head. Well, he supposed he'd let the circus boy go for once.

"Anyway, I'm here to report that Nightwing will visit later to update you on the cure" Dick informed.

"Nightwing must be a nosy vigilante" Jason scoffed as he finished his fries.

"And how do you know about him? Is it some Bruce Wayne secret?" Danny asked suspiciously, communication with those bats (glorified furries) was weird.

"No, it's because I work in Blüdhaven with him" The police officer quickly denied, the less this paranoid boy knew the better.

"Uh, but if you work there, why do you come here to ask Jason about Hood? He shouldn't be part of your jurisdiction." Danny narrowed his eyes, catching a hint of a lie.

"Oh, it's just that I found out they had a close relationship" Dick tried to fix the problem "and since I'm familiar with Gotham because I lived here, the cops send me every time they have a problem"

Jason knew that everything his older brother was saying at that moment was nonsense. He simply hoped that Danny would buy it without commenting too much.

"I understand what you mean" Danny nodded understanding the situation, he assumed that the police had found out about Jason's relationship with Hood, so they sent an outside officer to confirm if the rumors were true.

"Yes, totally" although he was surprised that Danny believed his words, Dick accepted it, even if he had a feeling he was feeding another bizarre theory.

Everyone already knew about their relationship or is Gotham very gossipy? Danny wondered

"Thank you very much for the fries, Chef Jay" Dick nodded, waving his empty plate "it was delicious as always."

"Sadly I can't get rid of you if I don't feed you," Jason grumbled as he leaned back on Danny's head.

"Although I'm glad your coexistence is going well, I still have to inform the bats so" The policeman pointed to the door "wait for a visit very soon, bye!"

With that said, the officer ran out of the apartment, though Danny swore he was holding back the urge to jump buildings. But that made no sense, not everyone in Gotham had to be weird.

"You have very strange friends" the halfa commented to Jason once the policeman was out of sight.

"Friends who don't even know how to lock the door" Jason complained looking at how he had turned out his apartment "Don't stay too comfortable, one of the bats is going to come here later"

"One of the furries? I think I can handle it" Danny sneered, he had lived with Tucker all his life, another furry shouldn't be a problem.

"I don't think you understand, they're very nosy Doll" Jason frowned worriedly, stroking his hand "they'll want to know everything"

"Well, all we're going to tell them is that you're making me fat like the witch from Hansel and Gretel" Danny replied with a smirk.

"I'm much prettier than the witch in a story" Jason sneered with a smile on his face.

"Of course, you're much sexier, and comfortable," Danny said, though he regretted speaking "I mean, compared to the witch who's probably totally wrinkled and toothless"

"Don't try to improve it, the beginning was fine" Jason smiled shaking his head, amused "but my food is so much better than some cheap candy"

"Sure, your fabulous five star food that none of us poor mortals are worthy of" Danny said dramatically, pretending to faint.

"You really enjoy my food, don't you?" Jason said happily. Something inside of him felt irrefutably glad that both Dick and Danny were enjoying everything he made, even if it was simple things "lunch could be better though, you need more than potatoes."

"I don't think so, I usually eat very little, I think that if you keep feeding me I won't be able to stand it" the halfa said sadly.

Since his food was usually combined with a lot of ectoplasm, he didn't need to eat that often. But since he wouldn't be taking his daily dose with Johnny it was unlikely his stomach would get used to so much food all at once.

Even if he loved Jason's cooking he couldn't handle more than small meals, the pancakes and potatoes were fine, even if they were heavy they were in small quantities, but he couldn't handle anything more than that. Perhaps dinner.

"What do you mean? Your friend makes sure you eat, right?" Jason asked worriedly, he knew very well how to adjust to an eating rhythm when you weren't used to it, but he thought it wasn't Danny's case.

"My friend has only been here a short time," Danny hastened to explain, a little embarrassed, "just like my…neighbor, she's the one who sends me food."

The halfa didn't know how to correctly explain her relationship with ghosts; they were technically friends, but they were enemies at one point, and some still feuded with him on a regular basis.

Even if they had explained to him that fighting was a way for the ghosts to unite, he was still a bit annoyed that no one had explained it to him in the first place, so yes, his relationship with them was quite complicated. Since they were from a nearby dimension, he guessed that neighbors was the correct term. Lunch could also be called a friend, but it felt a bit weird.

"What? I thought he cooked your meals, or you did" Jason said, growing increasingly worried by the endless number of new revelations.

"Neither of us knows how to cook" Danny denied "our mutual neighbor brings us some food from our hometown to get us through the week, my friend just makes sure I really eat it"

"Isn't that dangerous? What if she starts avoiding Gotham? This place isn't bees and flowers, it's normal for tourists to refuse to visit" Jason asked, stroking the halfa's hand to comfort himself.

"I don't think that's the case," Danny said after thinking about it for a moment. He doubted any of the ghosts were scared of Gotham. They were almost impossible to kill and the blood flowers had long since been extinct.

Unless Gotham has an excellent groundskeeper, they have nothing to fear here.

That just added to Jason's worries, Danny was confident that someone else would enter Gotham on a monthly basis to bring him some food.

"I'm going to teach you how to cook, there is no other alternative" the vigilante declared suddenly "but moving on to the next topic, how much do you eat a day?"

Jason needed to adjust his rations according to the response he gave him. He'd been cooking carelessly, having fun, that he'd forgotten that Danny might have some dietary need, or some special need.

"It's okay Jay" Danny assured him, tightening his grip on his hands "most of my allergies are covered, and I only eat small amounts but it's pretty normal, you shouldn't worry."

"I was speaking out loud, wasn't I?" Jason wailed when he noticed his mistake.

"Sure, but you were just worried" Danny comforted him "it's normal Jay, if it makes you feel better I'll tell you what I usually eat"

Jason wasn't thrilled to find out Danny just forgot to eat, but he drank his "green tea" daily, which apparently wasn't a tea he could get his hands on since it was originally from his hometown, which he deeply refused to talk about.

Given the amount of trouble Babs had been having getting into his city network, he could understand the caution a bit. Even if it was extremely rare.

Jason wondered if he should use the gas excuse to kidnap him for a couple of days. After all, the universities within Gotham had plenty of policies to make up fouls for Rogue attacks

Danny wouldn't mind staying at his house for a couple of days, would he?

--------------------------------------

Annd tag time, this update is a bit longer than normal but I love the number and needed to go for it, supposedly this is 7777 from Chapter 7 so welcome to the Jackptot! I hope you liked it!

I'll dig into the fangs later, but yeah, a part of Danny is very hungry and Jason is unconsciously feeding it, although it's kind of mutual since he's healing him so it's okay.

Johnny and Amorpho are going to get into a lot of trouble in the next chapter, and here comes the big brother! Danny is too distracted when he wants to lol

@skulld3mort-1fan@sorryiwonnoob@idfk-man10@avelnfear@criticaloverthinker@confusedandghostly @lunadoll36 @spidey29phangirl @suppengott @yjfk@apointlessbox@mimilikey@thegatorsgoose@jaggedheart11@dyinggirldied@pyramaniac@akikkobara@thedragonqueen1998@lostlightandfoundcrazy@xye-chan@saltyladynightmare @ashleysmshly @thewondersoflebanon@illusionwolfwriter24r8@littlefeather345@asphyxia778@amercurio@leftmiraclechaos @dixiwoods @satoshy12@lyra689@meira-3919@quietlyscared@plotwholls @kyrianclawraith @blacksea21090@basilf1res @flowers-n-fauna @8-29pm@phantom-dc@luer-mirin@taniaundertaleau@cloriform@readerkayden@oddlydrawnpuppets@basementloser@little-green-asparagus@echoednonny@yummy-yummy-mmmbones@confusionchaos@ectoplasm024@autumnwulf@666deaddash999@redhoneysugarorange@blue-avis@sailor-goddess@satanicrutialspecialist

[gayastrophilehistoryfreak]

it is 4 am and I just thought of something. Regulus is the prince and James is just a servant (hehe so unoriginal)

James: I love you.

Regulus: You know you can't say stuff like that.

James: Why not? I don't care about what they say.

Regulus: But I do, James. My parents do, and I cannot let them or the kingdom down; not like my idiot brother did.

James: But you could run away. With me. With Sirius.

Regulus: If only it were that easy. I'm not supposed to be with you anyways.

James: Well, do you at least love me back?

Regulus:

James:

Regulus: I do.

[sacrificialsquid15]

*Me listening to sad, break up songs*

Friend: Oh my! Who broke your heart?

Me: *stares menacingly at my favorite ship*

[kaeyachi]

Another tumblr post revised, and this time, with even more angst!

Side A: Diluc is so much like his father. It must hurt looking in a mirror. Side B: Kaeya is more like his adoptive father than he thinks he is.

This is based on my two old posts! As a reference, here are the links: This post is Part 1 And this post is Part 2

The fanfic version is definitely longer, and maybe a bit more angstier hehehe. Hope you guys like it!

[missathlete31]

Monsters Inc

Summary: A monster is down the hall and little Jake Seresin knows it's coming for him

Because why not go for the hurt on a Sunday morning 😬

Big warnings on this one for references to Child Abuse, mentally and physically Abusive Parents and just all around angst.

Im a big subscriber to the Hangman had horrible parents and that’s why he is the way he is so that’s where this came from. Sorry it’s dark,

Like very, very dark

There’s a monster screaming across the hall from Jake Seresin’s bedroom. He may only be six years old but Jake knows; he’s seen it, he’s run from it, heck one time he even tried to swing back at it, but it always beats him down.

Tonight, the monster roars, cursing and threatening as Jake lays in his bed just a few rooms away.

The sound of glass breaking vibrates all the way down the hallway and Jake clutches the blankets tighter in his little fists. He knows it doesn’t matter, if the monster wants him he knows exactly where he is hidden. Jake’s green eyes can’t help scanning his bedroom anyway, locking onto a baseball bat in the corner. It would be so easy to just get up and grab it, make a stand, defend his kingdom like the knights do in the picture books he likes to read. But Jake’s not a knight, and he doesn’t have a kingdom, just a small little room at the end of the hall where monsters visit when he’s not good.

It seems like lately he’s never good.

The monster’s getting closer now. It’s grotesque feet echoing down the corridor with each new step. It’s claws sharpened and ready, scratching along the walls all the way down to Jake’s bedroom. Jake takes his blanket and throws it over his head now, in hopes that it will muffle the sound so maybe he can fall asleep. Monsters usually leave him alone if he’s asleep. Jake squeezes his eyes forcefully, but sleep won’t come. It’s too late. The monster is on its way.

The monster is in Daddy tonight. He took him after dinner, when Daddy went to his special cabinet that holds the unique bottles where monsters hide in. Jake’s not allowed to touch those bottles, but he did once when he was five. Instead of seeing the monster in himself, he watched as the monster took his Mommy and Daddy and they both taught him a lesson. Monster Mommy smacked his butt until he cried while Monster Daddy poured one of the bottles down his throat until he choked and threw up. They yanked him by the hair and threw him outside with the animals, in soiled clothes and with a red bottom. Jake didn’t see anyone again until the next morning when Monster Mommy was back to being real Mommy and she brought him in to take a bath. She even let him use some of her expensive bubble mix. Jake loves when he gets a bubble bath, he splashes and plays and gives himself a bubble beard. Real Mommy always laughs, every time.

Sometimes when the monster jumps into his Mommy it hurts even more. It’s hits aren’t as hard as when the monster is in Daddy but Jake is always more confused after. Because Monster Mommy doesn’t stay around as long as Monster Daddy. Monster Mommy leaves him with red marks and sore spots but then real Mommy comes back and tries to make them better. One time Monster Mommy pushed him so hard he fell back into the metal gate. Jake didn’t remember the push very much but he remembered when real Mommy had cried after. She held him in her arms and cried and cried. Jake didn’t know what to do so he just sat there, in his Mommy’s arms until she released him and told him to go back to his playing. Monster Mommy didn’t come back for a long time after that, but she did eventually and that time there were no tears; or at least no tears from her (Jake’s had come later when he couldn’t sit down in a chair for a whole day without wincing).

The monster is outside his door now. Jake knows it’s Monster Daddy. He can tell from the growls and the snarls. Jake doesn’t know if Monster Mommy is around tonight but he doesn’t hear real Mommy either. He hopes she didn’t leave him like she does sometimes. When she watches her husband get taken over by the vile creature and merely shrugs. Her bedroom door is probably locked again, throwing her son to the wolves.

His grandma told him once that his Daddy wasn’t always like this, didn’t always have the monster inside. She said he was funny, always making jokes, and sweet; he had the sweetest smile, she had said. She called him ‘personable’ and Jake wishes he knew what personable means but he guesses it’s something good, something special, something his Daddy stopped being around the time he found those monsters in bottles. The same time that those creatures taught him that living with his son was more bearable when he let the monsters take over and how to use his belt to teach lessons in the welts left on his son’s skin. When Jake asks his grandma what happened to Daddy she said life. Jake doesn’t know what life is either, but he wishes it would stop making his Daddy go looking for monsters.

Sometimes Jake sees what his real Daddy could be. He sees it on the rare good days when his Daddy ruffles his blonde hair playfully as they sit down for breakfast in the morning. He sees it when Jake gets a hit in T-Ball and his Daddy lets him sit inside the truck instead of in the bed in the back.

He sees it most when they are out in town and away from the ranch. Daddy gets to see friends and shake hands. His Daddy’s smile is never bigger than when he’s shaking hands. Jake practices sometimes, late at night or when he knows he is alone. He hopes that when the day comes and his Daddy tries to shake his hand that his Daddy’s smile is the brightest it’s ever been.

Jake thinks that handshakes keep the monster away.

The monster caught him one time practicing out by the cows’ pasture. It got super mad at first and said something about Jake mocking it. Jake didn’t know what mocking meant so when he asked, he got a slap to the cheek for lip. The monster gripped his wrist painfully tight until something made a snapping sound and Jake howled. He wasn’t supposed to make noise, especially when he was outside so the monster hit him in the mouth once more, the familiar taste of blood getting swallowed down his throat like he was taught (spitting blood on the ground and making a mess meant another lesson needed to be learned). Jake kept quiet but the monster wasn’t finished, grabbing his hand once more but not like how Jake thought handshakes went. It yanked and yanked, pulling his arm towards the monster’s gigantic self. It was excruciating and rough and Jake got himself flung to the dirt when his arm gave up from the pressure on his shoulder. The monster leered over Jake and he thought that it was finally it; the monster was going to eat him like it did his parents, but then like magic, the monster stopped!

Jake knows it was the handshake.

Mr. Harris, their neighbor, saw it too. He had been walking the path between their two ranches and saw Jake and Monster Daddy. He called over when Jake was on the ground with the monster. The monster walked over to Mr. Harris and they shook hands and suddenly real Daddy was back! Daddy told Mr. Harris how Jake had been fooling around (which he didn’t remember doing but he guessed he was if that’s what Daddy said), and how he had gotten hurt. Mr. Harris offered to carry Jake back to his ranch since it was closer but Daddy disagreed, said home was better. Then he scooped Jake up into his arms like he used to when he was a baby, before the monster took over, and walked him all the way back to their house. It was the best! Mr. Harris even watched, that’s how great it was.

When they arrived back to the ranch, Mr. Harris sat with Jake while Daddy went to get the doctor. Mommy made some coffee and the biscuits that Jake loved so much but wasn’t allowed to eat normally. Luckily on that day because Mr. Harris had insisted, Jake got to have half of one. He was so happy; he didn’t even care if it ended up that the doctor told him his wrist was broken and his shoulder had to be “relocated” (Jake hadn’t realized it had disappeared but luckily the doctor found it pretty fast.).

Mr. Harris must have realized it was a great day as well because he didn’t seem to want to leave. He stayed for dinner and then helped Daddy get Jake to bed. Before Jake closed his eyes, the old man gripped his good shoulder and smiled sadly at him, told him to take care. His Daddy showed him out of Jake’s bedroom and Jake felt his eyes close pretty soon after.

No monster visited that night or the rest of the week.

A police officer did visit though, and asked Jake how he had hurt his arm. Mommy and Daddy had sat next to him while he had to explain that he was playing around outside and not listening just like Daddy told him to say. The police officer wrote some stuff down, asked his parents some questions and took a look around the house. Jake showed him his baseball bat and the man smiled when Jake told him about the day he got a hit and his Daddy was so happy. Before he knew it the police officer was nodding to both his parents and heading out the door.

When the police car pulled away from the dirt driveway, Jake saw Mr. Harris watching from the fence. He tried to wave but the man didn’t respond. It was the last time Jake ever saw Mr. Harris. The next day there was a bad fire in the kitchen of their farm house. Mr. and Mrs. Harris lost everything according to Jake’s Mommy and the couple was forced to go live with their daughter two towns over. Jake missed them.

His bedroom door opens. The monster is in his room.

After the police officer’s visit and the Harris’s move away, Monster Mommy and Monster Daddy beat Jake until he fell asleep right there in the living room. When he woke up he was still there and he crawled himself like a baby all the way to his bedroom carpet where he stayed for a few more hours. He didn’t have to go to school for the next week but he also couldn’t seem to do much on his own because everything seemed to hurt. Real Mommy had to spoon feed him because it was hard to lift his head. Real Daddy carried him to the bathroom and held him up because his legs didn’t work like they used to. When he returned to school the teacher asked about his absences and Jake told her what his Daddy told him, he got hurt on the ranch. She never asked about any of his injuries again.

The monster is over him now. He can hear it’s heavy panting, smell the bitter breath through his blanket. The monster uses a paw to rip his sheet away and Jake takes a risk and opens his eyes. It’s dark but he can make out the monster’s shape in the blackness. It looks just like real Daddy but he knows there is only one way to be sure. “Daddy?” he calls and he waits. Seconds, minutes, hours, the silence stretches on. Jake thinks maybe the monster is gone, left in the hallway. He thinks that maybe his Daddy actually returned to him and is here to tuck him back to sleep and press a kiss to his forehead like he used to. He thinks all these happy thoughts until a fist knocks his head aside, sends him sprawling off the bed and onto the floor.

Jake shuts his eyes and prepares himself for the attack.

It’s only the monster there with him tonight. His Daddy is gone.

[abiiors]

Can i request more Damiano David angst please? 😅🥺

Hey, thanks for the ask! I hope you like it :)

Consolation Prize // D.D.

Damiano David x Reader

Warnings: Minors dni, it’s an FWB situation so it’s 18+, he’s a bit of an asshole in this one. Also just angst with no happy ending.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I didn’t mean to rhyme the last lines but I’m happy about the coincidence. Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated :)

Masterlist

There’s a voice in your head screaming at you to not do it. Yet as another knock sounds at the door, your feet carry you involuntarily. You know who it is, there’s no need to peep through the keyhole but you can’t resist it. You can’t resist taking this one glimpse at him before he’s inevitably going to break your heart again. 

‘Hi,’ you greet as you open to door. ‘Come in.’

This has become routine at this point—Damiano texts “U up?”. You tell yourself to ignore the message, to blow him off with some excuse, yet every single time you cave just as the second text comes in. 

‘Hey, baby,’ he greets in return, presses a rough kiss on your mouth. 

You used to dream of these kisses, dream of his mouth on every single inch of your body. You even imagined the gentleness of them once. But whatever this is—being fuck buddies, friends with benefits, whatever you want to call it—this has slowly sucked the life out of those dreams. 

Yet you can’t stop going back to him. 

‘You’re thinking about something,’ he frowns and for a moment his voice is laced with genuine concern. ‘Are you not in the mood? You know we can always reschedule this,’ he points between the two of you. 

A hysterical laugh bubbles up in your chest and you have to actually turn around to get a hold of yourself. Reschedule this as if it’s just another appointment; clinical and unavoidable. 

‘No no,’ you smile at him and hope he doesn’t notice your dead eyes. ‘Work has been a bit stressful lately, that’s all.’ 

It’s an easy lie and you know he’ll never question it. He hardly knows what you do for work, there’s a one-in-a-million chance he’ll actually want to know what’s stressing you out at your job. 

‘Well then,’ he grins, ‘you know what’s good for stress.’

And that’s how it starts this time. He trails kisses down your neck, makes his way down to your cleavage and tries to leave a few hickeys there. You close your eyes and imagine a different reality—one where he mumbles I love you after each kiss, one where he tells you how obsessed he is with you, how he can’t keep his hands off you. One where he’s so gentle with you that you might as well be made of glass. 

But that’s not what this is. Damiano has always been very clear about what this is. 

You’ve got the motions of this memorised. You take each other’s clothes off; leave a trail of them to the bedroom. Despite the maelstrom of thoughts in your head, your body betrays you again and again. It always reacts to his touch, always craves more of him. It wants him never to let go.

But there’s always a ghost in the room; the spectre that is “the other woman”. He thinks you’re unaware of her but lately, it seems you’ve spent more time thinking about her than you’ve thinking about him. He longs for her, you long for him and yet you can’t let go.

Is she the other woman? A voice chides in your head and you fake a moan to cover up the gasp. 

Even when he’s buried inside you, you know you’re not the one he’s thinking about. You’re never the one he’s thinking about; it’s always her, it’s always been her. But he can’t get her, so his consolation prize is you. 

Even when his face is tucked in the crook of your neck, it’s her body he’s dreaming of. Only a fool wouldn’t notice how her name is always on the tip of his tongue, just fighting to get out. 

‘Dami?’ you ask once you lay side-by-side, panting and catching your breath, ‘will you stay the night?’

His eyes widen a bit and then he laughs awkwardly. ‘You know I can’t, baby. I’ve got, uh…Thomas wants to show me something.’

‘Of course,’ you smile. 

It’s always Thomas or Ethan or Vic, it’s never you though. He makes a move to get out of bed and suddenly you’re hit with a barrel of conflicting feelings. 

You want him gone. You want to beg him to stay. You never want to see him ever again. You want to wake up next to him every day. 

As he starts to get dressed, you grab the robe that’s hanging on the bedpost. This is the part you dread the most—the aftermath. You try not to seem too eager for him to get out. If he lingers even just a little…

‘That was fun,’ he smiles and you can already feel the awkwardness radiating off of him. None of you knows how to say goodbye yet your reasons for it could not be more different from each other. You hold the door open for him, smile a tight-lipped smile, go along with the motions when he gives you a goodbye kiss. 

He takes two steps towards the lift, then stops and turns around abruptly. This is it, you think, he’s reconsidered. He wants to stay. 

‘Can I see you again tomorrow?’ he asks and your heart dies a gruesome death for the millionth time. 

Just set me free, you want to scream at him, why won’t you just set me free? Instead, you nod and force a smile. 

‘Tomorrow works for me.’

[nouns-are-bad]

If soap doesn’t want you to find him he will not be found.

It’s no secret that the demolitions expert can get around fairly quickly and quietly when he wants to, but it becomes an annoyance when the whole team is now searching for him.

They’ve checked everywhere, the rec room, the gym, asked rookies, even checked his room, but the scot was no where to be found.

The team call it a night when the search has been going on for at least 3 hours. He’ll come out when he wants too.

It’s a wonder that his work gets done when the people he works with don’t even see him do it. Price assigns him paperwork and it’s sitting on his desk the next morning ready for his signature. This tells price that they’re either being avoided or there’s a problem Johnny is trying to work through without interference. Price honest to god hopes it’s just being ignored.

It wasn’t.

When the team finally gets to see the scots man again he looks worse for wear. There’s bags under his eyes and the shine that he usually gives off is gone. This is no longer soap, or even Johnny, this is John. And Soap can’t even pretend that he’s ok anymore which means this has been going on far too long now.

Simon gives him a hug, it’s tight but soft. He rocks both of them back and forth and stands there with Johnny until all he can do is hug Simon back and cry into him.

Price sits down with him and talks to fill the silence, something that Johnny knows he needed. The way prices voice is low as he recalls a funny story about an old cat he used to have, the way price takes care to also sit close to Johnny and move him to be snug into his side and wrap a blanket around him. At the end of the story Johnny is asleep.

Gaz wakes up extra early and starts the day for Johnny by making him eggs and bacon, with coffee on the side. Just how he likes it. Then Kyle takes Johnny around the base on a scavenger hunt that price helped with, finding prices hat, ghosts skull mask (a spare), gazs own Nintendo 3ds he takes with him everywhere, and lastly, a framed picture with all of the task force.

One of the only photos of them all smiling and looking casual. They were at a glow in the dark golf place and so far price was winning. Simons skull mask glowed purple and everyone wouldn’t stop giving him shit for it. It was a great time.

At the end of the day soap gathers all of them to the rec room where they all lay down on the couch together and watch terrible cowboy movies while joking about.

Johnny is well taken care of in the task force, it is, after all, no man left behind and no man too far gone to save.

[heyheydidjaknow]

I’m not dead. This is an incredibly niche market, I know, and not what’s typical for this blog, but it’s here and it’s here to stay. L honestly deserves more x reader stuff and if I’m the one who has to encourage it I’ll be the one to do it.

Am I Invited?

Your boyfriend was an odd man.

You were quite fond of him, but the fact that he was far from normal was emphasized by anyone and everyone he was willing to meet in person. Even if those who had seen him had decided to hold their tongues, you would have known how odd he was. When you had met him, you had understood that much; the only reason you had met him at all was because he and who you assumed was his father had come to the coffee shop in which you worked. He had worn a mask obscuring his mouth– his father had claimed that it was due to a cold– and he had not spoken a word to you, instead studying you silently as you filled the order for them. Despite disheveled black hair and dark circles, he was pretty in a quiet, Victorian way, and you had a desire to speak to him in part because of how little he seemed to get out.

He was there, apparently, to study. He had been ordered a cup of coffee with ten or so spoonfuls of sugar– you had decided his father seemed not to be the type to make that sort of joke, and so you had made it as asked. When you brought him his drink, you decided to make a move.

“Here’s your sugar with coffee,” you had teased, placing the cup and a parcel in front of him.

He had stared at you a moment, scrutinizing you, before averting his eyes.

Awkward, you had cleared your throat. “Hey, man, I’m hardly one to talk.” You had smiled. “I can barely handle coffee without a mountain of add-ons. I’m a pussy; I drink tea.” Clearing your throat, you gestured to the paper bag. “That’s on the house, by the by. I hope you aren’t allergic; those cookies are the best thing we sell.”

On your word, he pulled the pastry from the bag: a simple peanut butter cookie by all accounts. Wordlessly, he broke off a piece and handed it to you.

It took you a second to understand what he was doing. “Oh, no, I couldn't possibly.” You put your hand up in protest. “It’s yours.”

He did not remove his hand.

You glanced around, awkward before taking the piece and popping it into your mouth. You were hardly opposed to cookies. Your smile grew meak. “What,” you laughed, “think I’d give you a bad cookie?” You tried to regain your confidence. “You wound me”

You were startled by how clear his voice was. “No, that’s not it.” He pulled down the mask, taking a bite out of the confectionery, swallowing quickly, and pulling his mask back up. “I was just checking something.”

“Oh.” You nodded, confused.

He took another bite of the cookie, uncomfortably nonchalant. “This is quite a good cookie. Is it made here?”

Your eyes shift to the side, any assuredness you had gone. He was studying you. “They’re made on-site, yeah.” You resisted the urge to slide your hands into your pockets. “The recipe’s ours, too.”

“Is it old?”

“The recipe? Yeah.”

There was silence.

It dawned on you how oddly he sat. He was not so much sitting, in fact, as he was crouched on the chair, feet flat against the seat. If it was a struggle to balance in such an unnatural position, he did a good job of hiding any difficulties he had maintaining it.

You slid into the chair across from him. It was a slow day anyhow. “This is a small town,” you pointed out. “We don’t get many new faces.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“How so?” You rested your head on your hand, quietly satisfied at his letting you sit.

He shrugged. “I would assume it would be bad for business.”

“People like the atmosphere.”

“Sure,” he pointed out, “but I would imagine that you would want to have as many customers as possible.”

“Not necessarily.” You smiled. “If the atmosphere changed the people who come in would probably stop or complain if they didn’t have personal ties to the place itself. That’s not good for business either.”

“I suppose.”

Talking to him was a bit like pulling teeth. You took it he was not approached like this often. “Are you going to school nearby?”

“Why do you ask?”

You gesture to the folders stacked next to him. “I assumed that was for a project.”

He considered what you said for a moment too long. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Journalistic writing would count, I suppose.”

“Sounds like a blast. What on?”

He took a sip from his coffee. “Homicide case.”

Your smile widened. “So I was right. Which one?”

“You wouldn’t have heard of it.” He reached over seemingly absentmindedly, finger peeling at a corner of the topmost folder and letting it spring back into place. “It’s recent.”

“Try me.”

He stared at you for a moment, sizing you up. “Why do you want to know about it?”

“I dunno.” You shrank a bit under his gaze. “I want you to keep talking, I guess.”

He blinked, his head cocking to the side ever so slightly. “Why?” His voice was softer than before.

“I like it.” You forced confidence forward. “You have a nice voice, and I think you’re attractive, and you seem interesting.”

That was how you got his number.

The only time he ate decently was when you saw him. You knew this because he had lost weight; whenever he lost weight, it was because he had not eaten well enough or was stressed over his work or the news. He was doing both, you were sure, and though you had little time with him before he would fly back off to who knows where you were hardly about to let him leave on an empty stomach.

You saw him less than when you were younger. You never saw him much before– not as much as you had the first month you two had “been together”-- but weekends turned into single days, and once a week turned into twice a month. You never said anything. You doubted he was getting on with someone else; he did not seem the type, despite what your friends had to say on the matter. What did they know? They had hardly spoken a dozen words with him. You did not even mind much. You could survive without him comfortably enough.

He would not stop staring at the television screen. You were sure his eyes would roll out of his head from how long he paid attention to it. International news. Not that he did not know any of what was being said anyhow— he always seemed to know exactly what was going on in the world at a given moment— but he never wanted it off. Even as you set a bowl of stew in front of him, he barely glanced over at you long enough to register it.

You sat down next to him, tapping him on the side of the head as you dug into your own bowl. “Soup’s up,” you tell him, turning down the television. “You’ll waste away if you don’t eat.”

“Will I?”

You smiled, taking the bait. “You will. Your body will shut down and go into cardiac arrest and I’ll have to call the ambulance to come to drag you off.”

He did not smile much these days, but something like it tugged at his lips. “Oh, you don’t say?”

“I do.” You took another bite of your stew. “And with how much work you do it’ll kill you, and I can’t afford to help chip in much for the funeral, so it’ll be a shitty little thing and you’ll be made fun of it for it by the other dead people.”

He balanced a chunk of meat from his stew, watching so it would not fall. “Oh, so there are more dead people now.”

“Don’t be stupid,” you wave him off. “Of course, there are more dead people.”

“Of course.” The spoon was slid into his mouth.

“Of course.”

The spoon came out clean. With a quiet hum of satisfaction, he began to eat. “‘Ts good,” he said around his food.”

“It’s beef.”

“I’m a fan.”

You nodded. “Good. You’ve gotten uncharacteristically thin.”

“Rapid weight loss is often a symptom of high anxiety.” He swallowed. “That’s probably why.”

You took another bite of stew. “Work?”

“Work,” he confirmed.

“What is it now?”

He paused. “How to put it…” He swallowed another spoonful. “An issue’s come up and neither I nor anyone in my department quite understands what it is. It is unlike anything we have ever had to deal with in the past, and despite how many resources are being put into solving the problem, we are no closer to a solution.”

“What sort of problem?”

“That’s the question.”

You blinked. “So is it a problem or not?”

He smiled dryly. “It’s certainly causing trouble, but it’s difficult to define, seeing as I hardly know exactly what it is outside of the fact that it has seemingly infiltrated every corner of the company.”

You take another bite of stew. “You really should quit,” you swallowed. “Your job, I mean. It’s bad for you.”

He considered it. “It would probably be better on my health, but I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“Because it is one of the very few things that give my life meaning.” He picked up the bowl, tipping his head back and drinking the rest of its contents. “I have no other skills outside of my job, you understand; I would be essentially nothing without it.”

It was odd how he described what he did. He never told you what it was, exactly, but he always talked as though whatever it was was an integral part of himself, like it was more than just a job. You knew enough not to ask; he had always been secretive in this regard, and you knew it would do you little good to pry. “That’s not fair.”

“It is.”

“That’s not true.” You smiled. “Personally, with or without your job, I think you’re pretty great. And if it’s as big as you make it out to be, I’m sure someone else would hire you if that was what you wanted.”

He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure that’s even something I would want,” he mumbled, almost to himself. “Again, it is essentially my whole life, what I do.”

“But it doesn’t have to be is my point.” You let your head rest on the back of the couch. “You can do whatever. You’re still pretty young; the world’s your oyster.”

“Shakespeare.”

“Hm?”

“That idiom. It’s Shakespeare.”

“What, really?” You smiled. “See? You could go into etymology if you wanted.”

He chuckled. “I think I may go insane if I did that.”

“Oh come on,” you push him gently. “It’s not that boring.”

“I would disagree.”

You give him a look. “Then how come you know where it comes from, wise guy?”

“I had to read Merry Wives of Windsor.”

“Oh.”

He watched you curiously. “Why are you making a face?”

Your cheeks heated up. “I’m not making a face!”

“You are, as a matter of fact.”

“It’s just like why?”

“Oh, it was hardly by choice.” He shrugged. “My caretakers insisted. Personally, I’ve never been much a fan, but it would hardly make sense if I did not pick up on at least some of it.”

“Bastards.” You stuck your hands in your pockets, settling in. “What else did they make you read?”

He thought for a moment. “Well, all of Shakespeare–”

“The fuck you mean all of Shakespeare?”

He blinked. “What do you mean what do I mean?”

“How many things has Shakespeare written?”

“Surprisingly few.” He very quickly seemed to tally on his hands. “Thirty-seven is the generally accepted number, I believe.”

“That’s a lot!”

“I’m well aware. I didn’t enjoy it much at the time.” He settled in next to you, leaning his body against yours. “But apparently an extensive knowledge of English literature was vital to my education.”

You draped an arm across his shoulders. “Your caretakers are just the lives of the party, aren’t they?”

“I don’t believe they’ve ever attended one.”

“Look at you, being snarky.” You leaned into him. “I’m so proud.”

He reached over, pulling you into his lap. “I can be snarky.”

“So has been demonstrated.”

“I can be snarky generally too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You learned very early on that when dating your odd boyfriend you were best to not ask too many questions. Not about work, not about his personal life outside of you, not even about where he stayed when he was not with you. You had never been to his place, never seen it. He went away a lot for his job, and the two of you talked a lot on the phone, but you had learned from how little he volunteered information to not ask him to divulge too much to you. In exchange, as a way of keeping things fair, he never asked too many questions about your life, never commented on your home or your loved ones unless asked, and gifted you hush money—which he never called hush money but always felt like it for how much of it you received— and offered you an unusual amount of legal expertise.

Your conclusion: your boyfriend was some sort of government worker/spy/lawyer.

“You know I’m using you, right?”

You looked up from your phone. The night of that conversation— the last conversation you have had with him, about two months ago— was on the last night of his week-long stay at your place. You had gone out of your way to make him good food before he went back to his diet of carbs and nothing else. He had been quiet all day, fidgeting more than usual, clingier than what was typical. You had asked him about it throughout the day, but he always brushed it off. “Hm?”

He had that look in his eyes that he did when you first met, that cold, calculating stare that made you feel like a patient on an operating table. He repeated the question.

You set the device face down on the table. “Use how?”

“Emotionally. Physically. Psychologically.”

“I mean,” you shrugged, “I wouldn’t say using—“

“You should if you don’t. It’s the appropriate word.”

You leaned against your hand, elbow on the table. “What’s your definition of use?”

“Any, really.” His shrug, a mirror of your own, was stiff. “For our purposes, let’s define the term as ‘to exploit one for one’s own advantage.’”

You could play this game. You laced your fingers together, leaning forward. “And how would you define exploiting, love?”

“‘To use in an unfair and selfish way.’”

“You would consider yourself selfish?”

“Impossibly so.” He never looked away from you, then. “Incredibly so. Our relationship is largely one-sided.”

You swallowed. You knew he noticed. “How so?”

He considered the question, eyes lowering ever so briefly before meeting yours again. “Well, it’s fair to say that you’re a caring partner. You’ve provided for my every emotional need for the past five years, you’ve let me stay in your home, you’ve cooked for me, cared to remind me of my humanity.” He folded his arms on top of his knees. “And in return for your unflinching hospitality I’ve largely neglected you; I’ve refused to tell you anything meaningful about my upbringing or my work or even who I associate with. I’m not traditionally attractive— I understand,” he cut off your protest, “that beauty is subjective but for our purposes, I’m not objectively beautiful— and I haven’t so much as let you stay with me. I only spend time with you for a week every two months or so, which is ridiculous considering how long we’ve known each other. Any reasonable person would be right to leave.”

You shifted in your chair, eyes focused on your fork.

“Why are we still in a relationship?”

“I like you.” You shrugged, picking up the plastic utensil and turning it over in your fingers. “I’m allowed to like you, aren’t I?”

He exhaled, a poor imitation of a chuckle. “I can’t imagine it goes much farther than a skewed cost-benefit analysis.”

“So what if it doesn’t?”

“That’s incredibly foolish of you.”

“So what if it is?”

“Don’t you find an issue in that?”

“So what if I don’t?”

He opened his mouth, sighed, looked down. He mumbled something.

“Pardon?”

“You don’t even know my name.”

You stopped your fiddling. “You’ve never offered it.”

“That’s my point.”

You inhaled slowly, trying not to get yourself riled up. “Are you trying to break up with me?”

“No.” The response was immediate.

“Why are you telling me all this, then?”

He paused.

“That’s what it sounds like.”

“Do you have any idea what I do?”

You chuckled, leaning back in your chair. “I mean,” you sighed, “I have something like an idea.”

His eyes are not cold like they were before. Dull, maybe, but that was nothing new. “Take a guess.”

“I dunno.” You buzzed your lips. “Spy? Government worker? Assassin?”

His lips twitched upwards. “Assassin?”

“Hey, you asked!”

He smiled. “Let’s go with that.”

“What, you're an assassin?”

“Sure.” He leaned forward. “I’ve been asked to kill someone very important.”

You blinked. “I got it right?”

“No, but the comparison is somewhat apt.” He chewed on his thumb nail absently. “I’ve been tasked to kill someone very important. Because I’m killing someone very important, I’m going to be in a lot of danger.”

“Are they a dick at least?”

“I’m being serious.”

You crossed your arms behind your head, trying to relax. “If you’re an assassin, aren’t you always in danger?”

“This particular person is unusually dangerous.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“And because I’m going to be in a lot of danger, I may never see you again.” He broke eye contact. “I’m unable to get out of this, and this person has to die.”

You swallow. “Sure.”

“If I don’t get in contact with you for a month, I want you to assume that I’ve broken up with you.”

“And if I don’t agree?”

He sighed. “I can’t exactly force you to, can I? But you will be setting yourself up for disappointment.”

You looked up at the ceiling. “Am I invited to the funeral, at least?”

He considered the question. “Yes.”

You swallow again, hating the taste in your mouth. “Okay.”

He looked at you again. “Would you mind too terribly if I came over there?”

You said nothing. Your voice would crack if you did.

He took your silence as a no, standing from his awkward posture and kneeling at your feet. He placed his head on your lap, looking up at you. “May I have your hand?”

You let one of your arms down.

His hand was shaking as the fingers interlaced with yours. “I highly doubt that anything will happen. It never has before.”

Your eyes slid shut. You did not want to cry.

“I just want you to be prepared if something does.”

You never saw him again after that night.

Previous Works

[motherarts]

Rocking steady, above the shore,

didn't think I could hold anymore.

He appeared and took a seat beside me,

never thought that he would guide me.

After all, who would trust a liar?

He told me tales about the stars,

he told me that they were a light from the heart.

Now as the ceiling falls I wonder,

was it all a lie? Did I blunder?

My arm aches, my back is sore.

I think I'm going to win this war,

The astronaut doesn't agree.

After all. . .

What is life without me?

[slowlykawaiidreamland]

Okay, pero me di cuenta que Nappy es la única que sufrió abuso infantil por parte de rinny. Principalmente por las cosas horribles qué hace ella, Y por qué no llamaría como "Nappy angst" por el abuso de su madre rinny :'v

*pov: un poco angst de pretty blood*

[h00mandied]

Aziraphale & Crowley

[nell0-0]

The first time he opened his eyes and stared up at a clear blue sky, he hadn't known where he was or much of anything at all. The sheer vast expanse of Space laid out, not only in front of him to see but also in display directly into his mind, had overwhelmed the man beyond belief. There was too much going on for his brain to feasibly process. Too many people, too many Pokemon, too many cities assaulting his senses in a relentless attack all at once. Some buildings he distantly recognized, like his beloved Hear Station, the casteliacone stand in Castelia city, the streets he had grown up in all the way in Opelucid city... It seemed like every place there were large masses of people in Unova, there was at least five different places Ingo was seeing. High and down, right or left, in different angles that covered more than what the human sight could achieve on its own. A barrage of familiar places.

And yet, what was actually in front of him was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

Keep reading

[oblivionwhorns]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cole Cassidy/Hanzo Shimada Characters: Cole Cassidy (Overwatch), Hanzo Shimada Additional Tags: Love Confessions, Confessions, Developing Relationship, Complicated Relationships, Retirement, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Arguing, Yeehan Week 2023 Series: Part 3 of Yeehan Week 2023 Summary:

Cole wrapped his arms around Hanzo, bringing him closer. Hanzo nuzzled into his warm hairy chest, wrapping arms around another man. The only place in the world where he felt small, but in a good way. In a way that meant protected, cared for.

Loved.

"I love you." Hanzo exhaled as his body relaxed and eyes slid close.

"I love you too." Cole replied without missing a beat, pressing a warm kiss on top of Hanzo's head.

Hanzo smiled, chest ready to burst from the warm feeling.

He was loved. He was good enough to be loved.

The rest didn’t matter.

 Day 4 of Yeehan week 2023 Confessions