#but I’m sure if I stay on here long enough that’ll change

[sirianasims]

Chapter 44.2

Summer is coming to an end, and the warm glow of the early evening bathes everything in gold, casting long shadows and making everything seem almost dreamlike. The sturdy planks of the bridge creak slightly as we cross, the sound blending with the gentle thuds of hooves against wood and the faint rush of the river below. In the distance, the constant song of the waterfalls form a faint, rumbling backdrop.

The sound of Serafina’s hooves changes as we leave the bridge and turn onto the cobbled stone road that leads to the estate. On evenings like this, I love Tartosa so much it makes my heart ache, and I wonder why I ever leave. The air smells sweeter here than anywhere else, a hint of saltwater mingling with the ever-present lavender and the more subtle, grassy notes of the earth itself.

I slow Serafina down as we reach the large mosaic that marks the crossroads. The colour has faded slightly with time, but the motif is as clear as ever, two intertwined wedding bands surrounded by the waves of the Tartosan sea. My great-grandparents commissioned it for an anniversary years before I was even born, a tribute to their love story carved into the very ground.

Serafina tosses her head impatiently, the reins tugging on my hands and pulling me out of my reverie. I feel her muscles tense up under the saddle, and she paws at the ground with her foreleg, restless.

“Sorry, girl,” I murmur. “We’ll go back to your baby now.”

I dismount as soon as we reach the paddock, stroke her neck and thank her for the ride. The light sheen of sweat on her coat is warm against my palm, but her focus is not on me anymore. Her tail swishes in agitation as a delicate, high-pitched nicker can be heard from the stables and I quickly open the gate and lead her through.

My uncle Gio waits for us in the doorway, brushing bits of hay off his gloves. Behind him, Serafina’s foal whinnies excitedly at the sight of its mother.

“There you are. How did it go?” He takes the reins from my outstretched hand and lets the impatient mare into her stall.

“She did great, she’s definitely getting her strength back. I let her gallop along the coast for a bit, you should have seen her. She was practically flying.”

“That’s my girl,” Gio mumbles softly, almost to himself. “Thanks for taking her out, she needed the exercise. As much as Sofia tries, she can’t ride all of them every day and school starts back up soon. How long are you staying this time?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Another week, maybe more. I need a break from everything, some time to figure out what to do next.”

“And a week or two is enough for that?”

“It’s a start. I’ll be fine, you know me, Gio.”

“Exactly, I know you. Well, tell your aunt I’ll be in soon, I’m almost done here.”

“You don’t want any help?”

He laughs, waving me off.

“You were always more useful in the kitchen, my boy.”

As soon as I open the heavy front doors of the main house, I’m met with the sound of laughter. Aunt Teresa is wiping tears of mirth from her eyes as they both turn to me.

“Hi mum, Teresa. What’s so funny?”

My mother lights up at the sight of me, and I hurry over to give her a hug before she can attempt to stand.

“Paolo, did you happen to see Giovanni out there? Is he coming in too?”

“Soon, zia, he’s just making sure the vineyard doesn’t run out of fertiliser.”

My mother laughs, giving my arm a feeble squeeze with her left hand. “I don’t think that’ll happen any time soon.”

“Well, we better not take any chances, mum. The entire Romeo fortune could be at stake, and I’m currently unemployed.”

Teresa shakes her head, smiling, then calls towards the stairs. “Sofia? Come down, please.”

Seconds later, my youngest cousin skips down the stairs.

Her older sisters, Laura and Anna, both moved out years ago, but Sofia was a late surprise addition, still just a baby when I first moved to Del Sol Valley. To Gio’s endless joy, Sofia is just as obsessed with the horses as he is.

“Sofia, you can do your piano lesson while I make dinner. Is that alright with you, Rose?”

My mother nods and carefully gets up and walks to her usual chair by the piano. Her steps are agonisingly slow but dignified, and I resist the urge to help her, instead distracting myself by picking a few white horse hairs off my shirt.

Teresa disappears into the kitchen, and I opt for simply taking the shirt off before following her.

A copper pot simmers on low heat on the old stove. Teresa’s kitchen was always my favourite room in this house, filled with delicious smells and tastes. Ever since I could walk, I kept ending up in the kitchens, both here and at the vineyard, and my grandmother and aunts never hesitated to put me to work.

There are herbs everywhere, clay pots of fresh basil and oregano. Recently picked thyme and sage, still with their purple flowers, hangs from the ceiling and fills the air with their fragrance.

Teresa points to a bunch of ripe tomatoes by the sink, drying next to the carrots and zucchini she picked earlier.

“You can start by slicing the tomatoes.”

I wash my hands and begin cutting. There’s a small bowl of large, juicy grapes from the vineyard on the table, and I pop one into my mouth. The taste brings back memories of long summers helping out with the harvest, of sun and dirt and the first time I was allowed to taste the family wine.

“How are things over in Del Sol? Your mother says you’re no longer doing voices?”

“Yeah, the show I was working on has ended. But one of my friends is trying to set me up with her agent. For movie roles, I mean.”

“You’re going back to movies? That sounds wonderful! You were so happy back when you did that.”

I know for a fact that Teresa hasn’t watched a single second of Llama Man’s adventures, animated or otherwise, but she was always supportive.

“Yeah, I’m still considering it, but…”

A wildly off-key chord sounds from the living room, followed by laughter as my mother explains something and Sofia starts over.

I glance at the crutches leaning against the wall and lower my voice slightly, although my mother is unlikely to hear me over Sofia murdering a Tartosan folk song.

“How is she doing? When I’m not here, I mean?”

“You always worry too much, tesoro. Your mother is fine.”

“I know, I just… I haven’t been home much lately.”

“You’ve been busy. It’s understandable, you have your own life over there.”

“But now that… There’s nothing that really keeps me over there right now. And both her leg and her hand seems worse lately. I was wondering if I should take a longer break, stay home with her for a while…”

Teresa sighs.

“Paolo, listen to me. It is not your job to replace your father. Your mother is happy. She has family, she has friends, she has so much joy in her life. You need to try and find some joy in your life too.”

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[countlessimagines]

Something in His Eyes [ Johnny Slaughter x Reader ]

Summary: You find out the hard way why being close to Johnny was never a good idea.

A/N: I’m obsessed with the game so it was only right to write something for Johnny <3

Warnings: General Texas chainsaw massacre content, blood, mentions of killings and death

-

You had been laying on the grass, basking in the sun all afternoon when your mother called you into the house. You had lived on a farm and your nearest neighbors were the Sawyers who lived a couple miles down the road.

She had interrupted your sun bathing to send you to the grocery store for a few items that she needed for dinner. She shooed you off with the list and you took your bike with a little basket to carry the groceries.

You had to pass the Sawyer house on the way to the store, so you decided to see if they needed anything. And it was more of an excuse to see Johnny.

You had met him a few months ago during the summer, when he explained to you that there was a family emergency that required him to stay at the family house instead of with his mother Nancy.

You made it a habit to say hello to Sissy every few days. You never cared to say hello to Drayton though, as he always gave you side eyes and would sneer whenever Johnny would jog just a little faster to see you at the fence.

While you had invited Johnny to your house multiple times, he never seemed to invite you into his family’s house. It didn’t bug you as much since he never even took you up on your invites.

It wasn’t long before you made it to their house, honking the small horn on your bike to see if anyone was home to hear.

After a minute of waiting, Johnny appeared from the back of the house. He did a jog to close the distance between the two of you, especially since the driveway was so long.

He gave you a giant grin once he was close enough. “Hey there, pumpkin!”

You blushed at the nickname, but tried to hide it. “Hi, Johnny.”

“What brings you here?” He got close enough and you could see the sweat beading down his temple, and how his breathing was short and scattered. You failed to notice the bleeding knife in his pocket.

“Making a run to the grocery store. Wanted to see if you needed anything?”

“I think we’re good. Drayton is making his famous chili.” Johnny said, almost giving you a look once over but stopping himself.

“Ah, I forgot he cooks. Does he wear a little apron as well?” You joked, poking Johnny on his abs. You tried to refrain another blush from how toned he was.

He chuckled, giving you a wink. “He does, but that’ll be our little secret since he never lets anyone cook with him.”

You nodded, pretending to lock your lips and throw away the key.

“I was meaning to ask you, have you been listening to the radio? They ended up finding the car of Maria Flores! Isn’t it crazy that she just upped and disappeared?”

Johnny tensed but you didn’t seem to notice since he smooth talked his way out of it. “Yeah, real crazy, pumpkin. But they said no foul play so there’s no chance they’ll find her at this rate. She probably ran away.”

You shrugged, not entirely sure yourself. Your mother had gotten worried for your safety, but you promised her you would keep a pocket knife on you at all times and if you could, have Johnny accompany you.

“Most likely. Crazy stuff though.” You said and tried to change the topic. “I’m gonna head to the store now. See you in a bit.”

Johnny smiled and waved you off.

Once you were farther in the distance, he sighed and returned to the back of the house.

He removed his knife from his pocket and wiped it on his thigh. He was only a few feet away from the barn when Sissy exited, covered in blood.

“You know she’s gonna come looking one day, Johnny.” She sneered, leaning against the wood frame and crossing her arms. “She’ll end up just like Maria. Then you’ll really have to up and leave.”

Johnny rolled his eyes at her and stomped into the barn, making sure to shove her shoulder.

He didn’t want to think of a reality where you and his family intertwined. He imagined every scenario and none of them seemed to look good for you. You were his perfect little ray of sunshine, but he feared his heart was too far gone to let any light in.

He was worried the side of him that hurt people would eventually bleed into the side that didn’t want to hurt you. But that instinct would always be there whether he liked it or not. Especially since Nancy instilled it in him so long ago.

He touched the scar on his face, remembering that day so long ago when he finally confronted Nancy for killing his birth mother. He had been scarred by her, permanently damaged inside and out.

He always fantasized about ending Nancy once and for all, for what she did to his true mother.

Bubba was fixing his chainsaw after it had overheated multiple times without him doing anything. He gave Johnny a grunt and that was that.

Johnny looked at the table in front of him, seeing the scattered pieces of meat that they were going to bring into the house for Drayton to cook with.

He liked to think that maybe he could convince you they were actually just butchers, but the skeleton decorations might give it away.

He also feared Nancy finding out about you. Soon enough he would return home and the thought of leaving you behind scared him. What if you followed him like a lost puppy? What if you visited him as a surprise without any warning?

What if Nancy…

Johnny didn’t want to think about it anymore.

He knew what Sissy said was right. You would eventually find your way into the house like they all did.

He just hoped that maybe this time it would be different.

-

The next day, you drove your bike as usual to the Sawyer’s house. A few rings of your bike bell and Johnny was rushing to the front.

His usual happy demeanor was not present.

“Hey, Johnny.” You still gave him a smile and wave.

He did a grunt and crossed his arms. “I uh, I’m busy right now. What’s the matter?”

“Oh.” You said, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Nothing much. Just wanted to see if you were up for hanging out.” You tried to not show your hurt.

“Not right now, pumpkin. Maybe another time.” He seemed stressed, so you placed a delicate hand on his toned arm.

“Everything alright?” You asked with those innocent eyes that made him feel weak. He hated that he felt that way towards you… so weak and vulnerable, breaking at the seams, his dark demeanor, that monster screaming inside of him to end you… you made those thoughts go away… maybe that’s why Maria’s friends were still in his family’s basement, not yet dead because Johnny hesitated looking into Ana’s eyes… seeing her sister…

Was this the life he wanted to lead?

Johnny didn’t realize you were growing worried, waiting for him to answer. “Fine, pumpkin.”

His eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually did.

In the distance, you spotted something, though.

A girl with bright orange hair was in the far right of property, rummaging through a blue box in the barn. Instant worry and suspicion ran through you as you pointed to her. “Who’s that?”

Johnny whipped around instantly, his shoulders tense.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you when it’s convenient.”

You were offended and made sure to show it. “Johnny, what’s going on?”

Before he could answer you, the orange girl had stopped her search and noticed you, standing there as innocent as ever. She began to shout much to the dismay of Johnny.

“Help me! Please! This family is torturing us!” She wept and started running towards you.

Johnny let out a low grunt and faced you. “I’m sorry, pumpkin.”

“What?” You blinked, wondering if it was some prank… it had to be.

Johnny lunged for you, grabbing you around your waist and forcefully pulling you off your bike. He tried shushing you. “Stop movin’.”

“Johnny!” You screamed, hitting his arms as he roughly dragged you towards the orange hair woman.

Once you were on the property, you noticed the metal sheet now behind you started buzzing with electricity. You were trapped like a cattle waiting for slaughter.

The orange hair girl started screaming which made you whip your head towards her. She was being brutally murdered by a man with a chainsaw.

You let out a horrific scream, slamming against Johnny with all your force. “Let me go!”

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, pumpkin.” Johnny’s voice was sincere, but as you looked up into his face, it was stone cold.

He started walking towards their house, and out strolled Sissy covered head to toe in blood.

“Oh! (Y/n) is finally joining us? Will she be for dessert tonight?” She cackled which made your eyes widen in fear.

“Not now, sissy, go deal with the rest of ‘em.”

Sissy rolled her eyes and scoffed. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you! And now you’re bringing your plaything. Just wait til your mama gets here!” She ran off somewhere in the house, and you finally got a good look inside of it as Johnny brought in your flailing body.

“I said, stop movin’!” Johnny yelled and placed you down firmly. He held your shoulders as you began to shake in fear. “You need to listen to me, right now.”

You shook your head profusely as if it could take away all the bones surrounding you in their house. If the image of the orange haired woman being sawed alive would disappear. “Johnny, let me go!”

He kept you firm in place and stared deeply into your widened eyes. “I knew you’d see this side of me eventually… I just didn’t realize this soon. You… you don’t get a choice when it comes to this family. It’s either be eaten or become one of us.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. Johnny had to be lying. Your sweet Johnny was playing a prank, surely.

He continued on, “(Y/n), you are not fit for this world. I… I can’t let you become like me…”

You were able to bring your arms up and slam them against his chest. “Johnny please!”

He slowly eased his grip on you, but he didn’t want you to escape… he had you right there… his mind was running rampant at the thoughts that consumed him.

His heart ached at the sight of your tears and how you looked at him with so much confusion and were terrified of his family.

Ached.

Johnny didn’t realize fully what he was doing until you were screaming, thrown over his shoulder once again.

He began to rush through the house, and it took your all not to throw up at the sight of a woman hooked to a wooden post.

Was this to be your fate, too?

Johnny hurriedly went out a back patio door and through a series of steps before throwing you in the back of a car. He locked it before you could reach the handle.

You screamed and slammed your palms against the windows, praying that someone would answer and rescue you.

Johnny tried not to acknowledge your pleas as he hot-wired the car. He couldn’t think this idea through, or his family would slaughter you and make him watch.

His heartbeat only intensified as he heard his mother’s voice ring out across the yard. He finished what he needed to do and slammed the hood of the car down.

Johnny got into the car quickly, ignoring your whimpering in the back seat.

You were hysterical as he drove off, taking a back exit out of the property.

The only sound in the car was your occasional sniffs as he drove for thirty minutes in the middle of nowhere. He had gone a back road that you had never seen before, but you were able to see the back of your house fly by as he paid it no mind.

He wasn’t taking you home.

You slowly composed yourself enough to speak up. “Where are you taking me?”

Fear made your stomach turn as he sharply looked at you through the mirror. Coldness glazed his eyes, and no longer could you see the man you had grown to love.

Love. What a stupid feeling.

It was the reason you were there at their house. You loved spending time with him. You were growing fonder of him.

It was the reason why Johnny was driving you far away from his family. The side of him that was weak had grown attached to you. It frightened him.

Would it one day switch on you? Would you be another of his countless victims? Was his love for you too grand that he might do something reckless.

He supposed he already had.

His decision was sinking in.

He briefly turned in his seat to look at you.

Your hair was disheveled, your mascara ran down your cheeks in an ever-fading cry, your hands were tucked around yourself, trying to keep yourself together.

You were still the innocent girl he loved.

“We’re going far away, pumpkin. A place where nobody will hurt us.”

You wanted to believe Johnny, you truly did… but there was something in his voice.

Doubt.

Because Johnny didn’t even know if he could promise that he wouldn’t hurt you.

[katstarry]

anything

eddie munson x reader

masterlist ☆

summary: moments shared with eddie throughout your friendship, up until his death.

warnings: ANGST! 😱 mentions of death.

guys i haven’t written in a while and this song has been on repeat this week so this is just something i had an idea of so i’m sorry if it sucks!!! hope u enjoy :)

feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆

inspired by anything by adrianne lenker!

it was a summer day and you had just graduated high school.

the day was sunny and hot—a perfect day for going to the local pool.

eddie and you agreed to meet there, it was his idea, wanting to spend some time with you after the ceremony before you had to celebrate with your family.

this would be his second time not graduating.

“eddie don’t beat yourself up over this, i’m sure that next year you’ll be walking that stage. and i’ll be there cheering you on.”

as you both make your way to the pool entrance, he looks over with you with an eyebrow raised.

“don’t give me that look! i mean it.” you give him a playful shove.

“mrs. o’donnell is always on my ass, i doubt that’ll change next year,” he sighed, “plus, it’ll be less fun without you there.”

he wraps an arm over your shoulders as you both make your way to a pair of empty chairs, settling your belongings down onto them.

you had brought some sliced fruit, drinks, sunscreen, and of course a towel.

“y’know i’m not going anywhere anytime soon, we can still see each other as much as we want this summer.” you finish putting down your things and sit on the edge of the chair, applying on sunscreen.

you look over at eddie who’s on his own chair beside your own, “yeah, but what if you change your mind about staying in hawkins? you should be doing bigger things than staying in this dump.”

he looks away from you and leans his head back onto the chair, playing with a strand of hair.

meanwhile, you open the container you had brought with the sliced fruit, eat a piece of apple, and pass the container to eddie. the thought of leaving hawkins was constant, who wouldn’t want to leave after seeing the things that you’ve seen? yet you couldn��t bring yourself to leave, one of the reasons being right beside you.

“i’ll just study here at the community college, see where that takes me. then, who knows what’ll happen?”

leaning back onto your own chair, you look over at eddie. his hair has begun to stick onto his skin from the heat, his loose shirt slightly slipping from his shoulder, the sunlight shining just right, enough for him to look as if he’s glowing.

he turns to look at you, smiling, “you’ll be out in some big city, doing whatever the hell you want! maybe we could even be roommates, like we’ve talked about.”

he grabs a piece of mango and takes a bite, excess juice dripping.

you smile, “yeah that’d be really nice. but for right now, i’m happy where i’m at.”

that year during the end of summer and towards the end of fall, you had your first boyfriend.

the relationship was not super long, and it never felt like there was much progress. he’d take you out to dates, he’d do everything right.

yet there was no true connection. it’s something you realize after the break up. you’d call each other—but no conversation ever had much depth.

but, when you were both together physically, you felt comfortable, you felt wanted. the cuddling, the kissing, you loved all of the relationship related things, and it made you believe you did love him.

it came crashing down when you saw him out with another girl, you were walking out a local coffee shop with robin when you spotted him. his arm linked with hers, no shame as he leaned over to kiss her, smiling.

it’s what lead you breaking down later that day in eddie’s trailer.

you had planned hanging out with him anyways. your now ex knew about your close friendship with eddie and he never seemed to really care. you realize that he never really cared about many things.

trying to act casual after your discovery and confrontation, you should’ve known better. eddie could see right through your act. be it the way you seemed less talkative, less enthusiastic, he knew something was up. he somehow always does.

he was telling a joke, trying to make you feel better—and you love his jokes, even if they’re the cringiest or stupidest ever, you always laugh or make some sarcastic remark—when he finishes telling his joke, you laughed, which made him smile.

both sitting on the couch, he laid his arm behind where you sat, pulling one of his legs up and turning to face you.

“sooo.. you wanna talk about it?”

you turn to him, your face written with confusion, “talk about what?”

“something’s obviously bothering you. and iiii do not like that.” he tilted his head, softly smiling.

“ah, how did you know?” you give him a small smile and look up to his ceiling, letting your head hit the cushions of the couch.

you see him shrug his shoulders from the corner of your eye, “i just know.”

the tears start to form before you even register it happening, and you tell him what happened.

and he’s there, like he always is. he holds you, let’s you cry to him about your ex. not knowing how much he hurts seeing you like this over a douchebag who didn’t deserve you to begin with.

he rubs your back, attempting to calm you down. you hadn’t realized you were clinging onto him, you pull back and just opt to laying your head onto his shoulder, a few start tears falling. he wipes them away and you close your eyes, feeling his hands soothe you.

that’s when you knew.

it all happened too quick, so suddenly.

one moment you were at the basket ball game, cheering lucas on.

the next eddie was on the run for supposed murder.

and now he was laying in front of you, on the ground.

dustin was kneeled with you, but the ringing in your ears blocking everything else out. all you could see was blood and all you could hear was your ragged breathing.

soon, your vision became blurry, tears clouding your vision. in one quick moment, you were back to the present. a shout. someone was yelling, you look in front of you and you see dustin crying, eddie on his lap.

you reach for eddie’s hand, intertwining it with your own, the other wiping tears away from his face. it was now your turn to wipe away his tears, but you would’ve preferred it to be over some girl, rather than it be because of what’s to come.

his hand is already startling cold, yet you still feel him tighten his hold on you.

“eddie, you gotta keep breathing alright? we’re gonna get you out of here. dustin! we have to get him out of here!” you look over at dustin, who heard you and you both move to get up, but eddie stops you both.

“no. no—” he momentarily chokes on his own blood that gathered in his mouth. he doesn’t let go of your hand and grabs dustin’s before he could get up.

“what do you mean no?!” you cry, moving to get up again.

“s-stop! there’s no,” he gulps, “no way i’ll be able to—” he coughs, blood splattering as he does so, you use the sleeve of your shirt to shakily clean his chin, “make it.”

he looks at you, and that’s when you see. that’s when you see he’s not changing his mind, he’s not going to let you and dustin pull him back.

a part of you knows, the logical part of you, that he won’t be able to make it. that it’ll be too late by the time you pull him back home.

so you cry, you cling to him. dustin cradles eddie’s head on his lap once again, you both cling to him.

“please. please don’t.” you say between sobs, your head on his chest, his heart beat still present, your hand still in his.

he doesn’t reply, he can’t. blood blocks him from saying anything else, so he brings your intertwined hands shakily up to his lips, kissing your hand. you bring your head up to look at him, and that’s when you knew.

that’s when you knew, everything was reciprocated. you don’t know how, but you did.

you both just know each other too well, but apparently not this.

he looked at you and attempted to smile, the three of you crying. already grieving what’s to come and what could’ve been.

you shake your head, “this isn’t fair! you never should’ve been a part of any of this mess! i—i tried so hard, so hard to keep you away from all of this. but it wasn’t enough.”

laying your head back onto his chest, you feel his free hand move to your back. the familiar feeling of him soothing you, rubbing your back, making you cry harder.

then suddenly, it all stopped.

it’s like time stopped all at once.

the movements on your back were gone, the soft heartbeat had stopped.

you could’ve sworn that in that moment, yours had too.

[xypherz]

Six Rooms

Details: Cole Cassidy x Reader, GN!Reader, fluff, 1.2k words

Warnings: A single curse word, mention of anxiety and reader insecurity, not proofread.

Being a recalled Overwatch hero isn’t easy. Omnic crises and vigilantes are enough to burn anyone out. Though you’re trained to handle situations like these, you need an escape. Some respite to ease your constant stress. 

This is not what you had in mind. 

You planned for a night in. A night all to yourself with no distractions. Sure, there are the other heroes around, but no mission, no omnics, no expectations, is all you wanted.

You planned to have your own room. Your own bed.

You did not account for someone being shoved into what you thought was your escape.

In the bathroom when it happened, you were just setting up essentials like your toothbrush and soaps, when you heard the door to your room being opened, followed by a deep grunt, and a small British voice.

“6 rooms, 7 of us, sorry!!”

The door slammed shut before you could even process what little information you were given. 

Contemplating if you wanted to sleep in the bathtub to preserve your mental solitude, you decided to check who invaded your space, voluntarily or otherwise. The hinges of the bathroom door made an uncomfortable squealing noise as you opened it to the rest of the room.

This is a sick joke.

Not only were you met with the man who had tripped your hopeless romantic heart down the stairs, but he was dressed down.

Cole Cassidy in a t-shirt and jeans? This was simultaneously the best and worst day of your life.

“Hey there, sorry to intrude, I wasn’t given much of a choice in the matter. You’d think I have some advantage on Tracer, but damn, she is stronger than she looks.”

You nodded, voice getting caught in your throat. You’d talked to Cassidy plenty of times, hell, you consider him a friend, but this is too different. You’d never really spoken with him outside of work in private. It’s always on a mission or with others.

“I can sleep in Reinhardt’s room if you’re not comfortable,” he said, voice seeming gentle when not muffled by commands and gunshots.

“No,” you replied, a bit too fast for your liking, “I’m okay with you staying in here, I just wasn’t expecting visitors.”

“Sorry for that, I wasn’t told about the room situation until a few minutes ago. I offered to stay in Reinhardt’s room in the first place, but Tracer insisted.”

“Not your fault, don’t worry about it,” you said sheepishly, eyes trailing to the elephant in the room. Cassidy’s eyes follow yours to the bed. Singular. 

“I’ll sleep on the floor, don’t worry your pretty head over it,” he said, offering a small smile while making his way to the open spot in front of the bed with his bag.

“No, I can’t let you do that, there’s no way that’ll be comfortable.”

“I’d rather the discomfort over yours.”

“I’ll be fine, really,” you said. Though you were aware of Cassidy’s chivalry, you didn’t want him to be in physical pain for your sake.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

“Well…” you trailed off, knowing the two of you were too stubborn to let the other be uncomfortable, “We can just share.”

His expression morphed into that of surprise, “I wouldn’t want to intrude more-”

“Cassidy,” you cut him off mid-sentence, “It’s okay, really.”

He resisted the urge to ask for reassurance again, “Okay, then. But if you need me to leave at any point, you can push me onto the floor,” he joked, lightening the awkward tension.

“You got it,” you smiled and walked to your bag, grabbing a set of pajamas and walking to the bathroom. Suddenly the weight of what you had proposed settled in when you looked in the mirror. You were going to sleep in the same bed with someone. Cole Cassidy, no less. The man you’ve been silently, or maybe not so silently to the other heroes, pining over for however long you’ve known him.

Maybe you did want to sleep in the bathtub.

You finished changing, brushing your teeth, and silently calming your anxieties and left the bathroom to see Cassidy was already changed. Any thought of how good he looked in jeans was replaced by how good he looked in boxers. He passed you as he walked to the bathroom while you approached the queen bed in the center of the room. Sitting under the covers, you decided to distract yourself until you were tired enough to sleep.

It was hard to distract yourself when Cassidy joined you in the surprisingly small bed. Maybe it was just the difference between it and his stature that made it seem small. Maybe it was your anxiety closing in on you.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Your thoughts were interrupted by Cassidy’s concerned question. 

“You’d be pushed on the floor by now if I weren’t,” you joked, though truthfully, it wasn’t far off. Had it been anyone else, you’d have been completely okay with them sleeping on the floor while you enjoyed your personal space. But it wasn’t anyone else.

He smiled a bit at your statement, though it seemed unsure. He leaned over to the bedside table and turned off the lamp.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You were still sitting up in the bed, staring into nothing as he laid down, his back turned to you.

“Hey, Cassidy?” Your voice came out before you could stop it.

He turned a bit to look at you, “Yeah? You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” you trailed off, “Sorry, I’m just thinking too much.”

“What’s on your mind?” He sat up fully, staring into the darkness with you.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Though you couldn’t see it, you felt his eyes turn to you. The anxieties you’d been staving off seemed to catch up to you. “I mean, I guess you’re nice to everyone, but… I don’t think I deserve it.” 

“I think if anyone deserves it, it’s you.”

You turned your head toward him, knowing his eyes were on you as well, but the space was too dark to see.

“Why?” The question held a lot of weight. Why had he asked you so many times if this situation was okay? Why had he refused to let you be uncomfortable? Why was he willing to sacrifice his own comfortability just for yours? Why did he always stay by your side during missions? Why did he help you through broken limbs and bullet holes? He didn’t need to do any of it.

So why?

He didn’t respond for what felt like too long.

“You think too much,” he said softly, lightly grabbing your jaw and pulling you closer to him. 

He waited. He waited for you to pull back. He waited for any signal that what he was doing wasn’t okay. Instead, you leaned forward, placing your hand at the back of his neck before pressing your lips against his. The kiss was sweet. It was slow with no expectations.

You pulled back a bit, the darkness making it easier to find your voice, “I definitely think too much.”

----

Your bag seemed way too heavy so early in the morning. 

You walked out the door ahead of Cassidy, turning the corner to head to the lobby. Reinhardt and Tracer were in front of you, halfway there already. A door opening made you turn your head, Mercy and Genji walking out of a room. 

“Didn’t we have 6 rooms?” you thought, when the realization dawned on you, “Well played, Tracer.”

[britcision]

Gonna try and sneakily post after dnd let’s see how fast I can yeet this up 👀 new chapter!!

(I was kinda considering pushing out the porn parody to push me over one million words on AO3, but I have to be in the mood to write good smut, whereas I’m damn near always in the mood for crack, so here we are

The porn parody has been started though, and the first chapter is edging its way to completion. I will be starting an entirely new taglist for the porn parody though, so do say in the comments here if you would like to be tagged in the first chapter of that!)

I got to use a little of my actual real life work knowledge for once in my life, instead of my unending stash of random knowledge 👀 it’s a bold new world and I bet you ANYTHING Bruce never documents his code

Eleven million backup plans for if marshmallows take over the world, but someone else sits to debug the batcomputer? Zip. Nothing. Fuck them if they can’t read Bruce they aren’t authorised to touch it

As may be rather obvious… We’re right up in the bats again this chapter, and Bruce is going to make some Inadvisable Decisions 😈

I’m sure this will have absolutely no consequences whatsoever! This chapter also came in a little short, since there’s not quiiiiite enough space left to squeeze in our next scene, Danny Attempts To Make Jason Kill Him In A Motorcycle Accident

This means we should not brick ANYONES’ tumblr! (Like that’ll happen, my poor mobile using fellows)

Note: there is a reason why I’m choosing when to use our various vigi’s human names while they’re masked, I didn’t miss one on the “edit” that is formatting this mess for Tumblr 😁

First Chapter and AO3 link:

Previous Chapter:

——————

One Fine Day In The Middle Of The Night

About twenty minutes after dropping Danny off at his dorm, Jason was suited up and ready to go.

Well, he’d stayed outside until he’d seen Danny shut the door behind him first. Jason had some fucking manners, though if pressed he couldn’t name who’d taught him them.

It was a habit older than the streets, watching to be sure his friends got to safety.

Danny’s dorm was about fifteen minutes from one of Jason’s better safe houses, as it happened. Jason had never been to a dorm, but from Danny’s stories?

A step below Teen Titans’ bunks, and those had sucked. Less privacy, smaller rooms, and more people? Who weren’t even part of the same team?

Maybe next semester Jason could offer to let Danny move in. He didn’t need need the safe house.

Red Hood could always buy the building. There were other apartments and while they weren’t luxurious, they beat half his other spots. The neighbourhood wasn’t bad either.

It’d be nice to pay Danny back a bit. Not have him closer. Just. Repay some of the debt by giving him a place to stay, rent free.

And maybe, just a little bit, the part of Jason that enjoyed the romanticism of his period novels kinda liked the idea. An estate for the king on your lands was a big deal back then.

A slightly more modern part of him thought being a landlord for his ruler would also be pretty funny. He figured Danny would enjoy that side too.

And it wasn’t like the guy could complain, since he’d literally given Jason back himself. Yeah, Jason was gonna pull that one out if Danny tried any familiar “oh I can’t accept this” on him.

Fixing his core was pretty damn god level on the favours spectrum. Jason could do whatever the hell he liked and Danny would just have to deal with it.

It cheered him up a little more, kept him in a good mood on the ride back to his safe house. It was more time where he couldn’t help Cass, but seriously?

Danny could change in a matter of seconds and be at her side not much slower. Walls, cars, goons, Jason had this feeling that none of it would slow Danny down.

And yeah, knowing that helped, but there was still a piece of him that only unknotted as he slid his helmet on and headed to the window.

“Hey, Black Bat. Busy?” He asked as the comms switched from earpiece to helmet display.

Of course he wore both. People kept trying to steal his damn helmet. That was also what the internal explosives were for.

The others all piped up when they heard him, Harper and Steph calling cheerful greetings around an ongoing conversation.

“Shit, Hood’s in, this mean I can go back to bed?” Bluebird teased. Spoiler cut her off immediately.

“Hell no, it can’t be a school night, Robin’s here! Great timing though Hood, we’re planning Red Robin’s eulogy and you have some experience there,” Spoiler chirped brightly, and Jason hesitated.

Sucked in a breath. He wasn’t gonna judge anyone else’s coping mechanisms until they got past “heads in a bag” levels.

Best to ignore it, since she wasn’t actually trying to set him off.

What the hell had Tim done since they’d left the manor?

Shaking his head, Jason settled into Red Hood and hopped onto the fire escape, scaling easily to the roof.

“Black Bat?” He repeated instead of answering, and half smiled when Spoiler groaned dramatically.

Black Bat answered in the considerate group pause.

“Not busy. Why?” She sounded amused, not even particularly tired, and Jason relaxed enough to slip all the way in.

“Thinking of going a little out of my way tonight. Wondered if you’d mind a tagalong?” Red Hood asked, hoping he sounded casual.

It wasn’t like he’d been planning to patrol the Alley anyway; his guys had already been told to handle it. He’d have to run around tomorrow night to keep the creepers scared, but he could have a couple off.

The tiny pause before her answer didn’t quite feel like judgement, but Jason muted before blowing out the sigh as she did. It wasn’t like the others needed to know he’d been stressing.

“Sure. Meet at library?” She’d had his tracker up. Hood nodded, turning and running for the edge of the roof.

“Sounds good.” And they’d probably wound Spoiler up enough, she’d start plotting vengeance for being ignored soon. “So what the hell did Little Red do?”

“Brought Too Fine to the Bat Cave,” Spoiler told him with relish, not noticeably put out by the delay.

Not necessarily a good sign, since she was also this enthusiastic while actively plotting against him.

Wait.

Too Fine was Tucker’s hacker name.

“But he doesn’t know about us,” Red Hood said with a frown, catching an outcropping and swinging on.

“Oh, now you tell me,” Tim groused while the others snickered, “what a shame you didn’t think to when it’d have actually been helpful!”

News to Hood that he was on, probably still in the cave.

“He knows now,” Nightwing chimed in brightly, probably also travelling from the slight strain in his voice.

Hood paused for a moment, letting that sink in before attempting the next jump.

“Is he on comm?” He asked warily, because if Tim brought Tucker to the bat cave, it was entirely possible that they were all outed.

And that Tucker might tell Danny he was Red Hood.

Shit, he still had to text Harley. Resolving to do it once he hit the library, he set back to running, throwing himself across another street.

Black Bat would probably take a little longer to get there.

“He’ll be back, he’s in the bathroom,” Tim explained with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “It’s not all bad, he’s given me the full story on what happened in Amity Park. Witness account and all.”

“From a witness you let down to the bat cave~” Spoiler sang sweetly across the air.

Red Hood could hear Oracle rolling her eyes as she cut in.

“Tone it down, Batgirl. Bluebird, if you’re still thinking of heading in, could you swing past one last site on your way?” She said firmly, then lightening her tone for their current guest.

“Batgirl who? I’m Spoiler,” Spoiler grumbled, but didn’t push beyond that. None of them did when Oracle invoked the name she’d had before any of them masked up.

Bluebird snickered at her before answering the question, a hint of exertion suggesting she was on the move too.

“I’m not actually in a rush to go home, O, I got all dressed up so I might as well enjoy one last hurrah.”

Right, because she’d be going back to school probably when Danny did.

Harper had always been a damn good hero in Jason’s books, but she valued her retirement and none of them really wanted to ruin it. Unless, apparently, seven bats just had to stalk Jason’s new friends.

Hood would have apologized, but frankly if she’d said no, some of the others couldn’t have come to the gala to be a pain in his ass.

And then he couldn’t have had so much fun fucking with them.

Fine. One cool fruit basket for the Row household, and some rainbow cupcakes for Cullen. He needed practice on frosting roses anyway.

Although that also reminded him.

“Hey Bluebird, have the others filled you in on Phantom?” He asked, cutting off some more background chatter from Spoiler and Tim.

Nightwing and the girls had had hours by now.

“What, your new boyfriend?” Bluebird asked sweetly, and Hood rolled his eyes.

Probably hit the important shit then.

“Sent you a picture?” He asked instead, decidedly not entertaining that question.

Nightwing and Spoiler snickered. Hood flipped off their general directions, settling himself comfortably on the roof of the library to wait for Black Bat.

There was a short pause, the others now wondering what he was getting at. Good.

“In and out of suit,” Bluebird agreed, curiosity tinging with mild suspicion. Being out of retirement clearly wasn’t good for her.

Hood nodded, pulling out his phone and shooting Harley a quick text. It might be moot now, asking her not to mention Red Hood shit in front of Danny, but he might as well.

He still had to ask if Waylon knew. Might as well ask. And see if Tucker knew when he got back.

“I know you’re outta the game, but keep the light show to a minimum if you see him around, okay?” He asked, scanning quickly over the list Danny’d cleared for public discussion.

He didn’t know if Tucker would have mentioned it, but he might as well. Cause of death was good, but Jason personally would veto “and the effects it may have now”.

Because fuck Bruce and his need for everyone to show him their weaknesses.

Bluebird definitely sounded curious now, and possibly like she was punching someone.

“Oh? He not big on the electricity?” She wondered aloud, and Hood grimaced.

Because if they were both at Gotham U in engineering… there was actually a chance Harper and Danny would run into each other.

Danny was older, but Harper skipped a couple years and he had no idea what year Danny was in. Fuck, they might be in the same classes. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought of that.

“Not exactly. You mighta seen him around actually, he’s an engineer too. But he’s not a fan of the electricity flying around,” he explained, Nightwing making background noises that told Hood he hadn’t put the pieces together either.

Good. At least he wasn’t alone.

Bluebird made an interested hum, and probably a finishing blow considering the satisfaction when she spoke next.

“I thought he looked familiar. But then, he’s total Wayne-bait. Yeah, I can keep the good stuff under wraps if I see him around. Gonna guess he’s had some bad shocks in the line of work?”

Hood hesitated and in exactly the same instant Black Bat landed on the roof. Sam had given them all the warning about talking about a ghost’s death, so he could leave it at that.

But…

The way Danny had looked when he explained about Vlad. Yeah, he’d rather they took this seriously. He didn’t want any of his family to hurt Danny, even by accident.

“It’s how he died. He won’t spontaneously combust or anything, but it’s a bad memory.”

Silence reigned while the others absorbed that particular detail, Black Bat crossing to crouch on the roof beside him. Hood leaned over enough to bump their shoulders together.

He could almost feel concern radiating off her, which was an extra weird experience after literally feeling all of Danny’s emotions half the day.

Guess that was where Cass’s liminality was going. It made sense, kind of; despite her occasional trouble speaking, she was pretty much the clearest communicator in the family.

Having another back up way to make herself heard would only fit.

On a whim, he tried projecting comfort back to her. Black Bat didn’t seem to notice, though whether that meant more on her part or his was the question.

She leaned in and bumped him back, her expression unreadable between the full face mask and the shadows.

“Heard and understood, Hood,” Bluebird agreed after a minute, her tone unusually solemn. Hopefully Dickie would take it to heart too.

The odds of Danny running into Nightwing weren’t great if he stuck to Blüdhaven, but Dick was a nosy bastard and there was always one “emergency” or another.

Better than the odds of running into Bluebird, although Harper would almost definitely look him up at school.

Maybe Jason should warn him.

“Maybe you could build him a faraday suit,” Spoiler mused, and Red Hood snickered.

“Handy, but then we couldn’t contact him,” he reminded her and she groaned loudly.

“Hey, if we’re both techies he’ll probably have his own idea. I’ll look him up out of costume, it’s my turn to say hi,” Bluebird decided, and Hood shot Danny a quick text.

Just a heads up.

A picture of Harper, captioned “beware of sibling. May be looking you up in class”. Black Bat giggled beside him, head cocked to watch the screen.

Harper wasn’t technically one of the Waynes, but if Waylon counted she definitely had to, and it wasn’t like Bruce picked his family. Asshole.

A few minutes later he got a message back from Danny.

‘DannyP: !!!!! I know her! 😳😳🤯 She does the cool nanobots! Half our year is betting if she’s a rogue or a vigi 👀 inside info??’

Which was fair, since just knowing Jason wouldn’t be much of a hint either way.

“He knows you,” Black Bat reported to the others, Bluebird immediately bitching that she’d been ratted out.

Red Hood mostly ignored her, texting Danny back.

‘JTodd: Neither anymore. She was a vigi, but she’s retired and getting her degree. No idea if she’ll come back after.’

“Odds you’ll change sides and go rogue, Bluebird?” He asked into a pause, and very much enjoyed the momentary stumped silence. “Apparently there’s a hefty bet.”

Momentary, because everyone had an opinion on that and had to share it. Everyone except Bluebird herself, who seemed to be thinking it over.

“What’re the odds for rogue?” She asked thoughtfully, immediately defending herself as the group booed. “What! I have student loans!”

“You are my villain arc, Red Hood,” Spoiler declared as solemnly as she could through laughter.

“I’m my own villain arc thank you so much, go find your own,” he refuted with a half grin.

“Ask Phantom,” Black Bat advised Bluebird in the meantime, which was probably fair. They weren’t good at staying on topic.

She then gave Hood another gentle nudge, probably for the same reason. Flicked off her comm for a moment.

“Wanted to talk?” She asked, and yeah, they probably should get back to it.

He gave a shrug, hauling himself up and holding a hand back down to her. Definitely not feeling guilty.

They’d tell her before anything became relevant. It just.

Well.

They were a family of fucking detectives, who could never leave well enough alone, and Jason really didn’t want them questioning his humanity.

Just once, he’d like to know something about himself before anyone else did. To have time to understand and come to terms with what he was before Twenty Questions.

Cass was very good at not asking questions though. And Black Bat turned off her comm first. Tim was distracted, probably with Tucker coming back because he’d been quiet.

No better opportunity was likely to come up.

And really, she deserved the same courtesy. Knowing about herself before the others did.

Maybe she’d have some ideas on how to tell them.

Making up his mind, Hood tapped his comms and hauled Black Bat up with his other hand.

“Hey O, gonna be offline for a minute. Text if you need me or BB, we gotta be radio silent.” There were enough possible reasons for that, he didn’t bother giving one.

Just so long as they knew.

Usually he’d just turn the comm off and swear at her if she turned him back on if he wanted peace and quiet, but… well, it was nice to hear the background chatter.

Nicer when the big Bat himself wasn’t in the field to tell them to focus.

“I always need you, baby!” Nightwing called just before he clicked off, and Red Hood rolled his eyes under the helmet.

Dramatic bitch.

He looked back to Black Bat, wondering where would be the best place for this talk. She was watching him patiently, not moving.

It had been her patrol.

“Is there anywhere on your route we can talk privately?” He asked softly, a little surprised at himself. He’d been the one who wanted to wait.

But that just made it his call who he decided to tell what, and when. And Cass… he trusted Cass.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was liminal. It’d give them something to think until he was ready.

Black Bat regarded him for a moment longer, then nodded and made her way to the edge of the roof.

“Follow.”

**

The night was wearing on, but Bruce was darkly satisfied that they were finally making progress.

Constantine’s pacing (replacing his smoking; Bruce may not have bothered arguing in the cave, but even Constantine knew better than to light a cigarette in space) had finally slowed.

Something terrible had happened in Amity Park, but even the magician was grudgingly admitting it was probably over. Left permanent scars, but getting no worse.

Unless it was on a cosmic level and would be a slow seeping problem for millennia, but Alfred had Opinions about Bruce concerning himself with issues on that time scale.

There was only so much they could do in the moment.

Another survey of the city was required, and in person since even the League’s best couldn’t take clear pictures of Amity Park.

A fact which didn’t seem to have stopped the Amity Parkers from photographing and sharing pictures of each other, according to his children. Constantine hadn’t actually argued when Bruce compared it to background radiation, so it must be close enough.

He also hadn’t done more than grimace when Bruce asked if he wanted to undertake the survey personally. That was as good as an enthusiastic agreement.

First, though? First they needed to call a meeting of the Justice League, primarily the heroes located in North America.

They had been horribly uninformed of what was going on right under their noses, and if Constantine was right… Amity Park’s problems had begun to spread.

To Gotham.

To his children.

Constantine’s grumbling that it was the miasma of death that hung over the city drawing them in had not inspired confidence, and Bruce resolved to have Zatanna over at her soonest convenience to explain.

Helping Constantine put together a report on Amity Park itself had more than convinced Bruce not to ask Constantine, even if he could have done it today. The man was…

Well. Bruce wasn’t looking forward to having to run him through the JL’s classification system again. Maybe one of his children would want to go and handle the technical side.

All he had to do was finish preparing the presentation, call the League, and he could rest. It would likely take a day or two to put a full meeting together, but he could at least fill Clark and Diana in tonight.

He could sleep in between. Just for a little while.

Right after he showed Constantine how to configure the alerts from Amity Park to direct to the Justice League Dark, not the spam folder. They hadn’t sent one in years, but he was determined not to miss any changes.

That should have been the easiest part of this whole mess. It was just a simple form, with a basic test button to ensure it worked.

Nothing too complicated even for a man who’d decided “no reply needed” meant the same thing as “too dangerous for anyone but JL Dark”.

Fine. It was fine.

Bruce loved making training videos to highlight the most basic functions of a system and ensure that people actually understood what the various controls meant. Wonderful.

It meant that they could work in parallel for a while, Bruce on the presentation for the League, Constantine to fix his mistake. In a blissful silence, even.

It couldn’t last.

“It’s not working, Bats,” the magician declared, pushing back and away from his computer. Probably to pace again.

Bruce closed his eyes, breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, and made his way across to frown at the monitor.

“Did you save your changes?” He growled, doing his best not to let the irritation show. It was getting harder every time.

Constantine rolled his eyes, definitely not helping, and pointed at the screen.

“See for yerself. Look, JLD Top Priority, like ya said. And then ya hit the top button to save, and the red button to test it, and nothing happens.”

He waited impatiently while Bruce clicked through the buttons, seeing it for himself.

Constantine wasn’t wrong. That was unexpected.

Brows furrowing under his cowl, Bruce checked the deleted requests. Three test messages from “Amity Park”.

“Hn.”

“Someone’s fucked ya system,” Constantine commented dryly, sounding unduly pleased that it wasn’t his fault.

Something other than his haphazard filing had apparently been causing some of their problems. Bruce… just didn’t have the time tonight.

He nodded over to his screen instead, pulling up his wrist computer to send a private message to Tim in the cave. How long could a tour take?

Tim could find what was going wrong long before he’d have the time.

“I’ve compiled most of the presentation on creatures of the Realms. Is there anything important I should add?” He asked gruffly and Constantine sighed dramatically and flounced over.

Bruce firmly ignored Steph’s voice in his ear.

Not because he didn’t agree, whatever a “woobie” was.

He just needed Constantine’s once over to confirm he had all the pertinent information, and then he could call Clark and Diana.

Head home.

Get to bed.

“Looks fine. I should check yer damn revenant some time soon too though.”

Bruce froze, finger just above the send button on that tech request to Tim.

His fucking what.

**

Black Bat led them easily across the city, along what was probably her normal patrol route. Taking her cue from Red Hood, she didn’t rush, but soon indicated that they turn off into a small alley between two warehouses.

Hell, not even a proper alley. A gap where the buildings hadn’t quite smushed together.

Red Hood recognized the area from Nightwing’s bitching; there’d been a bust here last week, and something had cloaked the whole block from surveillance.

These days, he was almost tempted to check what Danny knew about it. Ghosts fucked with technology in ways none of the bats would find.

Black Bat stopped them half way down the gap, feet braced against one wall and her back to the other, leaving her “sitting” about twenty feet off the ground.

Hood matched her a little further down, grumbling a little at the crush. Almost a foot taller, it wasn’t exactly a comfortable position for him, but he’d held worse.

They were stable, and damn near impossible to observe. This was as good as they’d get.

“So,” he began, and immediately realized he had no fucking clue what to say.

Black Bat’s flat, expressionless mask was not helpful.

Hood wished he could pull his helmet off, just to run his hands through his hair. But they were on patrol.

Black Bat just waited, silent and patient while he wrestled with himself. Finally he decided to just spit it out.

“Danny died, and came back,” he said in a rush, glancing over to her.

Black Bat nodded.

“Like you.”

“Like us,” Hood corrected, groaned, and switched off the voice modulator. Actually, fuck it, he had his domino on.

He pulled the helmet off, balancing it in his lap. He could shove it back on if it came time to go.

Black Bat was beside him now, almost close enough to touch. Close enough to lean in and bump their shoulders together.

“One main difference,” she noted thoughtfully, then tapped her chest, “no skin change.”

Which, yeah, Jason had been hoping to emphasize before any of the family got too far down the right track.

“Right,” he agreed, leaning back to stare blankly into the smog of Gotham above them.

Fuck. How do you even say it? How do you tell someone they’re not fully human anymore?

Someone like Cass, who’d been raised to believe she’d never been human, by force. Just a weapon.

Her hand was in his now, and he couldn’t be sure if he’d reached out or she had. He stared down at their laced fingers instead.

“You know how people get when they spend too long around the pit water,” he began slowly, trying a different path.

Cass had been raised around the League of Assassins. She knew.

And took the change of topic fully in stride, nodding and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Erratic,” she mused softly, her face tilted to the wall across, “unpredictable, especially if they went in.”

No one was going to say Ra’s Al Ghul was an unstable mess of a man, but no one had to. Still, how controlled he was was impressive, especially after you saw what mere exposure to the fumes did to other people.

Red Hood nodded, sighing softly.

“Danny’s parents kept it in the fridge. He was… exposed long before he died,” he explained quietly.

If he was talking about himself, he’d say “contaminated”. Hell, it was the word Danny used when explaining it to the bats.

Jason just couldn’t use it about Danny. It just wasn’t right.

Black Bat stilled, almost enough to be mistaken for a statue instead of a living being. Was that her liminality too? Or just her training?

Red Hood couldn’t stand it either way, giving her hand a gentle tug.

“He told me… being around it too long can change a person, even if they never get dunked,” he said slowly, trailing off again.

“We got dunked,” Black Bat said quietly, her hand curling more tightly around his. There was no hint of emotion in her voice, and Jason hated it.

Pulled her closer, doing all he could to project comfort-sorry-concerned-love you. Wishing he’d asked Danny to teach him to do that first.

Neither of them had really considered he’d need it, since Danny was so good at reading him. But he needed her to know she wasn’t alone.

Her shoulders hunched suddenly, body tensed to spring until her head snapped round to focus on him.

He could… he could feel surprise from her. Maybe it was working.

He gave a graceless half shrug, grinding his shoulders against filthy bricks.

Tried to project yeah it’s weird for me too, but wasn’t sure how well it came across. Anything beyond pure feelings was a little tricky for him to push, though he could usually work out what Danny was saying.

“We got dunked,” he agreed quietly, resolving instead to wrap her in love-protect-safe-safe-safe, “and sometimes… that changes you even without a flashy transformation.”

It was an awful explanation and he knew it, could practically feel her eyes darting all over his face, his posture, reading things he probably wasn’t aware he was showing.

Then she relaxed all at once, settling in and leaning part of her weight on him as well as the wall. He braced automatically to take it. He wouldn’t let her fall.

“He called it being “liminal”,” he explained softly, working an arm around her shoulders above the wall to coax more of her weight onto him. “I don’t know what it means for you yet, BB. But nothing bad. He was sure it wouldn’t be bad.”

Black Bat made a soft humming sound, obediently shuffling so he could wrap his arm around her. Looking down at their still twined hands.

“Can feel you,” she said softly, hand rising to tap gently against the red bat on his chest. “Big brother.”

It startled a bark of laughter out of him, because… well, yeah. A good way to sum up everything he’d wanted to tell her without words.

Felt a quick rush of satisfaction from Black Bat, and tried to answer it with relief-agree-protect.

“Yeah, that’s the fuckin’ weirdest part,” he agreed dryly, almost felt the rush of her giggle more than he heard it. “Apparently some liminals get this… aura around them. Sharing what they feel. I didn’t know if you would…”

What? If she’d notice? If she’d be able to feel the same things?

Black Bat nodded, head tipping up to meet his gaze once again.

“Robin? Batman?” She asked, and Jason hesitated.

He couldn’t talk to either of them about it. Not yet. Bruce would fucking push, he always did, and wouldn’t stop until he tore the secrets out of him. Damian would just run to Bruce.

But it was a valid question. And they did sort of deserve to know just as much.

For now he took refuge in what he knew, shrugging it off.

“Danny thinks they’re liminal, but… not as far along as we are.”

Not as close to death. Not as close to not being human, although technically they were both legally non-sentient, so that was fun.

“D’you really think either of them have the emotional bandwidth to share?” He tried to joke, covering the moment.

Black Bat just stared at him until he fell silent. Then nodded.

“Should tell them. No rush,” she added almost before Jason could tense, leaning back in and resting her head on his shoulder, “have been for a while, yes?”

Jason paused a moment longer, shook his head, and snickered.

“Cannot believe I ever doubted you’d be able to do the whole “emotional telepathy” thing,” he grumbled good naturedly, and Black Bat glowed with gentle amused.

“Better than you,” she told him archly, sounding for a moment like Steph when she was teasing Tim. Jason gave her a squeeze.

“Don’t I know it. But yeah, it’s not a new thing, and won’t mean anything to anyone unless one of us dies again.” Which he wasn’t going to think about.

Shit, someone said Robin was out tonight.

Nope. Not thinking about it. Robin had been patrolling for years, and as much as he whined about his solo patrol route, he never deviated.

Not after Oracle had highlighted his route on his wrist computer for him and proved she could see every footstep. She wouldn’t necessarily tell Bruce, but she’d always know.

Black Bat nodded, resting against him for a moment longer before sitting up again.

“You want to wait.” It wasn’t a question, but he felt compelled to answer.

Picked up his helmet, turning it over slowly in his hands. But of course she’d understand. She always did.

“I want to know what this means to me before I have B poking and prying into every part of my life,” he said quietly, staring into the eye slits of the helmet.

Black Bat ruffled his hair.

“Can wait,” she agreed gently, switching her position to have a hand and foot on either wall. Ready to move on. “No rush.”

Red Hood pulled his helmet back on and matched her, the pair climbing quickly out of the crack between the warehouses. It almost wasn’t worth saying, but…

“You can tell the others if they ask. I just…”

“Don’t want questions,” Black Bat agreed lightly, flipping up onto the roof. “Can ask Danny when the time comes.”

“Yeah,” Red Hood agreed, crouching beside her. “Mind if I stick with you on patrol tonight?”

He sort of hoped she’d think it was unrelated, but another moment of stillness passed across her as she regarded him.

“Until we die again,” she repeated his own words, and Hood was pretty happy she couldn’t see his face anymore as he grimaced.

Not that it mattered, another shot of amused shooting between them, followed by a much softer appreciated.

At least she wasn’t judging him for being a mother hen.

“Understand.”

**

Tim and Tucker had made quick work of the interview, and Tim was pretty much running out of questions when the batcomputer pinged with an incoming message.

Tucker gave it a longing look and Tim chuckled softly, wheeling himself over.

“Hang on. Might be one of the others out on patrol,” he explained, right clicking to pull up the monitor that tracked the bats’ various dominos out and about.

Tucker stared up at it politely, diverting his attention from what Tim was doing on the other screen, no matter how curious he was. Showing trust and all that.

It was actually really cool too; he’d not really seen a map of Gotham, and having one superimposed with little glowing lights of the various heroes on patrol was really cool.

It wasn’t really zoomed in enough to tell if Bluebird was actually in a fight, but the little blue dot seemed to be the only one standing still, so Tucker assumed she was.

How cool would that be? Watching just normal human vigilantes fight and take down bad guys?

Although off the top of his head, he could already think of a couple of things to add to the monitoring program. They might already be there, he hadn’t clicked around, but like.

Vitals were all well and good, down in the corner next to each hero’s name and the colour of their dot, but just the heartbeats? That wouldn’t tell you enough.

Tucker preferred brainwaves, because then you could tell if they’d been hit with something or overshadowed.

Although maybe it was because he’d spent his time keeping track of a guy who pretty regularly did not have a heartbeat. And it also gave him more data points for some of his cooler side projects.

Understanding the different brainwave patterns an individual made in different situations was a key part of neural mapping, and adding it to the bat’s routine would get him a ton of data.

And then they could really play Mariokart.

He’d have to ask Tim if they tracked any of that later. Not all the bats wore helmets or cowls that would support the electrodes, apparently. Although if Danny could get his hands on a domino…

Tucker was snapped back to the here and now as Tim pushed back from the batcomputer, a wry grin on his lips.

“Actually, I think this might be something you could help with, Tucker. If you don’t mind a little work on your night off?” He teased, back to Tucker’s complaints about a night of fun and tech.

Like getting to play on the batcomputer did not absolutely count as fun and tech.

Tucker beamed, excitement welling up in him and cracking his knuckles. It’d be pretty cool to assist a human vigilante too. And on a tech problem!

Gotham was fucking great. If Tim really meant it about getting him an internship, Tucker might have to see about switching schools.

MIT was great, but it wasn’t Wayne Enterprises, personal meetings, or personal tech demonstrations with Tim Drake Wayne!

“Sure! What’s going on?” He asked, shuffling over to look at the other screens now that he had permission. Making sure it was obvious he hadn’t been looking.

Resisting temptation had been hard. He deserved credit.

Tim nodded to the screen, and that? That was a message from Batman. Bruce Wayne. Batman.

Tucker scanned the message, eyes widening even as Tim spoke.

“Wanna help debug the Watchtower?” Tim asked, and Tucker clutched at the back of his chair as his heart leapt, swooning just a little.

The Watchtower. The actual Watchtower. In space. Oh he was shoving that in Danny’s face for not telling him he was friends with the Bats!

There was only one real question left.

“Will Oracle be here?” He asked eagerly, looking around the rest of the screen.

A soft chuckle played from a speaker in the bottom corner, and Tucker jumped half a mile as a masked voice spoke.

“You boys have fun with this one, I’ll keep an eye on the city. If you finish early you could walk me through that server of yours?”

Oracle.

The Oracle.

They were real, they talked to him, they wanted to talk about his locked down servers! Tim lunged to catch him as Tucker collapsed, knees giving out under the swell of emotion.

All of his dreams were coming true, all at once.

He’d never been happier.

**

Danny was having a pretty quiet night in. That didn’t used to be unusual while he was in Gotham; having time to himself was still pretty much a novelty, and he wasn’t exactly a party boy.

Of course, it was a night in with some of his parents’ inventions and recently one or two of his own, so the actual “quiet” part was negotiable.

Quiet enough not to piss off his dorm mates, but luckily most of them were engineers too. They may not always know what he was doing, but they were usually interested.

Tonight, he was alone, most of the floor still being home for the holiday. That had been one of the things he’d looked forward to most about staying behind, but…

Well, after his noisy and action packed few days… he was lonely.

He wished he’d asked Jason to stay. Just because he’d said he was going to bed didn’t mean he had to do anything of the sort.

It was just that Jason had been… tense. He’d not even gotten off the bike when they arrived, just pulling over and chatting for a minute before heading out.

Like he wasn’t fully comfortable going into Danny’s place, which was kinda fair. Unlike Jason’s apartments, Danny’s dorm was a communal space.

Even if most of his dorm mates weren’t home, there was still a chance one of them might turn up. And then Danny would have someone else bugging him about his “boyfriend”.

Nope.

Besides, he’d see Jason again at 11am (he had this horrible feeling Jason might be a morning person), so it wasn’t even all that long. He should probably just go to bed.

He should check his class schedule, actually. Work out what days he’d have free, work out when he and Jason could skip to the Zone for fight club.

Wait.

Would Jason be free.

What the hell did Jason do for a living? He’d have to ask at some point, Danny mused, logging in and taking a screenshot of his class schedule for the new year.

For now, it was probably best just to send Jason the picture so he’d know when Danny was free, and then Jason could work out a good time for them to go and it wouldn’t be Danny’s problem.

Excellent. Sheer genius.

Humming happily to himself, Danny pulled up Jason’s number and sent the picture of his schedule, with the caption:

‘Let me know when ur free for field trips 👊🏻💥👻’

Eyes closing for a moment, Danny let his awareness drift out across the city. It wasn’t something he’d done a lot; Gotham wasn’t his haunt and he didn’t want to step on any toes.

Usually he’d just expand his conscious aura if he was looking for someone, but knowing how much Jason didn’t like it… well, his passive aura covered most of the state, so reaching through the same city couldn’t be all that hard.

Right?

Frostbite could find anyone, anywhere in the Far Frozen with little more than a thought. And was convinced Danny would be able to do that with the entire Zone, some day.

Danny was a little less convinced. Past the background awareness that he was no longer in Amity Park that had taken months to fade, he’d never really paid attention to his passive aura.

It’d be too tempting to feel out the rogues, or at least react to the sudden surges of aggression and danger. But he hadn’t had anyone to protect before, and he knew Jason would feel better knowing Danny could.

That was kinda why Danny hadn’t mentioned how theoretical this particular ability was, although he had no doubt he’d recognize Cass’s energy if she came close to death.

Which meant he should totally recognize it while she was alive, well, and had more energy, right?

He had no idea where she was, which parts of Gotham fell on her patrol route, but that kinda helped. It meant he couldn’t trick himself by focusing on a particular area.

Surprising precisely no one though, he found Jason first. The other halfa almost glowed when Danny was focusing on his energy, a bubbling little ball of yellow and red.

He… was maybe with Cass? Danny’s brows furrowed, nose scrunching as he tried to focus without changing his aura.

He was definitely with one of the liminals. And that quiet little light, almost blue, felt sort of like Cass. When he forced himself not to be distracted by Jason’s brighter glow.

Eyes snapping open, Danny’s concentration broke and he frowned up at the ceiling.

Well, that explained why Jason was in a hurry to get going. He was no expert in Gotham herself yet and had no idea where the two of them were, but if he tried again he could probably work it out.

Did Jason still have a suit? Or did he call Cass in, find something he could do as a civilian to have her help?

Shrugging to himself, Danny dismissed the question and hauled himself up. Might as well get to bed; they’d be back together in the morning and he could always ask.

**

Tim was scrolling through the code for the alert messaging system itself while Tucker went through the sections that pertained to Amity Park specifically on his PDA when the other boy made a sudden, startled squeak.

Tim considered pretending he hadn’t heard, but there was a chance he’d found the answer. So he glanced over.

“Any luck?” He asked, noting Tucker’s sudden strained expression. Maybe the guy needed the bathroom actually. They’d been down here a while.

Tucker laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“So… uh… what exactly does the bug we’re looking for do?” He asked in a small voice, looking more embarrassed than Tim had ever seen.

Which… was not a proportionate response for that noise. And a question that they both probably should have thought of sooner.

He’d meant to mention it, since they’d have to explain it to the Amity Parkers at some point.

“So… remember how the Justice League never responded to an alert from Amity Park?” Tim asked not a little sheepishly himself.

Tucker nodded, not actually looking any less embarrassed himself either. That was definitely a great sign.

Tim sucked in a deep breath and forged ahead.

“So, it turns out there’s a bug in the Watchtower’s systems, where anything coming in from Amity Park gets marked as spam and funnelled straight into trash. We fixed the marking as spam thing, which I guess was user error, but it’s still-”

“All going to trash,” Tucker finished with a sigh, grimacing and shaking his head, “aaaaand I think I know why. But the timeline doesn’t make sense?”

That… that wasn’t even on the same continent as what Tim’d expected he’d say.

“The timeline?” He asked, brows furrowing, sliding over to peek at Tucker’s screen.

Tucker shook his head again, angling it so that Tim could see… a section of code that shuddered faintly in and out, almost disappearing entirely every few seconds.

That.

That was not a thing that should be happening.

Tim would have loved for it to be a simple screen glitch, but it was only that one small section of code. The lines above and below were fine, and Tucker could move the flickering chunk up and down.

“Yeah, this is your problem,” the Black man sighed, wiggling the section demonstratively, clearly aware of Tim’s shattered hopes.

Heartless man. Genius man.

“You’ve had ghosts in your back end. Probably wouldn’t even show up on an uncontaminated device. Which, by the way…” he trailed off, and Tim shook his head immediately.

“Not tonight. No changes to the batcomputer without Bruce’s say so,” Tim said firmly, since he’d already fucked up once. Might as well limit the damage.

Tucker shrugged and nodded back to the section of code.

“Okay. But this… this was definitely Technus. And that makes no sense? He’s a spirit of technology, we’ve fought him a bunch of times, but if he got into the Watchtower’s code he wouldn’t just… hide,” he tried to explain, adjusting his beret fussily.

It totally wasn’t adorable.

Tim did his best to keep up though, nodding along and thinking back over everything they’d been told about ghosts so far.

“You think we’d have noticed?” He asked, and Tucker snorted.

“He likes making giant robot bodies out of toasters, you’d definitely have noticed him on your space station,” he agreed dryly, then sighed.

Frowned down at the tablet again.

“I mean, Danny could make him do it and behave himself now, but if these changes were active during the whole Pariah Dark thing… I dunno, Technus should have been a way bigger problem. He’s not subtle.”

Tim frowned, thinking about what Tucker had said and then pausing.

“Danny could make him behave now?” He asked and Tucker pulled another face. Like he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Well, yeah, Danny’s miles out of Technus’ league now,” he tried to brush it off with a laugh, “the guy knows he’ll lose any fight so he’s really not a problem anymore. We have hackathons,” he added and Tim really wanted to know more about that.

There was just. Something off about Tucker’s answer. Not the content itself, just the way Tucker clearly wasn’t saying something.

That was a problem for future Tim though. Present Tim had a job to do.

“So can you fix what he did?” He asked the important question, and Tucker made another face.

“Dude… whoever or whatever made Technus do this, will probably notice if we fuck with it,” he said warily, and Tim shrugged.

“Whoever or whatever made Technus do it couldn’t do it themselves. How would they know?” He shot back, and Tucker chewed his lip.

Shook his head.

“Lemme text Danny. He’s the ghost expert, he’ll know how much we should worry about this,” he explained quickly, pulling out his phone and shooting off a short message.

Tim gave him his very best deadpan expression.

“How much we should worry about technology ghosts getting into space and fucking with Justice League HQ. I have the feeling the answer is “a lot”?” He offered sweetly, and Tucker snickered.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see. Might actually be alright, if this is all he touched. And, since you won’t let me juice the big computer, we’d have to scan the whole thing through my PDA. Every line of code,” he added, like Tim wasn’t already dreading it.

Tim sucked in a slow breath, weighing his options.

Touching the batcomputer? Ultimate no-no. But Tim’s personal laptop… it had access to the Watchtower’s systems, and was under Tim’s personal control.

And would let Tim go through the sensitive data himself, which the core code of the Watchtower was full of. The question was, did he trust Tucker not to install anything dangerous?

That question had been answered the second he asked Tucker to help him debug though. Clearly the guy could already put what he wanted, where he wanted, and with their current tech?

None of the bats would ever know. At least if Tim’s computer got the update, he’d have a chance at spotting ecto-infused code.

There were other computers they could use of course, old or unnetworked computers that Bruce would probably insist they start with.

Which wouldn’t be able to access the Watchtower’s servers, and couldn’t hold the whole thing to be able to run a useful check.

The answer really was kinda obvious.

Tim looked to Tucker, who’d been texting away while he thought things through.

“We can’t do the batcomputer, but is there anything you could do for my laptop tonight, or do we have to wait on Danny still?” He asked, deeply regretting that they’d gone to video games instead of the tech upgrade.

At the time he’d been planning on having a burner laptop done though, so it probably wouldn’t have been as useful.

Tucker shrugged cheerfully and slid his phone into his pocket, cracking his knuckles.

“Well, I can’t give you the full infusion to let you open Amity’s encrypted data, but I can write you a little something that should expose Technus’s code even without it,” he offered, and Tim brightened up.

“How long?” He asked eagerly, wondering if Tucker would let him watch. It’d be fair if he didn’t, Tuck had been cool about not looking when Tim played on the batcomputer, but…

Tucker smirked, flicking open a new screen on his PDA.

“How long will it take you to get the laptop down here?” He asked smugly.

Tim booked shit to the elevator.

**

Private Chat: DannyP & TooFine

2:15am

‘TooFine: Danny when tf did u have Technus hack the JL’

‘DannyP: ……. 👀 u cannot prove i did that 🚫🚫’

‘TooFine: I’m helping Tim debug the Watchtower’

‘TooFine: double fuck u for not telling me about Batman btw’

‘TooFine: someone sent all the Amity alerts to trash’

‘TooFine: if we keep talking about this I might accidentally send something to the group chat 🤨’

‘DannyP: FUCK FINE DONT TELL SAM 🏳️🏳️🏳️’

‘DannyP: after the pd thing’

‘DannyP: cw called’

‘DannyP: they hadnt been reading the messages anyway i just’

‘DannyP: shitty people track the jl y’know? and i didnt want em knowing about us’

‘DannyP: let em all think its a joke and then no one else comes an tries to use our portal to harness the realms and blow up superman or whatever’

‘TooFine: dude u fucking told me to tell them what actually happened??’

‘TooFine: pretty sure anyone tracking the jl will work that out now’

‘DannyP is typing’

‘DannyP is typing’

‘DannyP is typing’

‘DannyP: ok so maybe i didnt think that through 😔😔😔’

‘TooFine: no shit. I’m fixing the code in case any new alerts come through but it’s not like they’ll bother to call’

‘DannyP: not like they need to, frighty’s got em covered 🗡️🗡️🎃’

‘TooFine: yeah yeah. I’ll set it to ping u too’

‘DannyP: ur the best tuck 🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️’

‘TooFine: better than u deserve’

**

Across the city, Red Hood and Black Bat had stopped for smoothies. Patrol was quiet, and word on the street was that Bluebird was mostly to blame.

Nobody wanted to know why she was back and taking no prisoners, so even the docks were almost deserted.

Then again, with Riddler and Waylon snapped back off the streets, Penguin lying low in fear of Harley, and Batwoman making Two Face’s life a personal hell?

Yeah, no wonder the smaller players were lying low.

Hood had pulled his phone out to check in on the Alley in case they’d be more useful there when he noticed a message from Tucker’s private chat app.

It was from Danny.

Danny had sent him his class schedule. Told Jason to let Danny know when he was free. Like class was the only thing that’d stop Danny from wanting to see him.

Jason was so lost in staring at his phone, utterly swamped in the implications, that he didn’t even notice Black Bat finish her smoothie and swap out her empty cup for his.

Danny wanted to see him again.

He’d have to work out a proper schedule of his own.

**

Bruce was having a Bad Day. An extended bad day, one that was fast approaching 48 hours long.

As if everything with Amity Park wasn’t already bad enough, both in the past and the present, now Constantine believed there was something wrong with Jason.

That his son wasn’t fully human anymore.

Now, Bruce’s best friends weren’t even a quarter human between them, and no matter what everyone seemed to think he was perfectly happy with meta humans.

So long as they kept themselves safe.

Preferably where they wouldn’t be mind controlled, kidnapped, or held hostage every few days. Frankly being a meta was probably stressful enough even in a normal city.

But he’d keep Gotham’s metas as safe as he could, just like Duke.

But Jason… Jason had been born human. Had lived as a human, died as a human, and Constantine seemed so sure he’d come back as something else.

“Revenant” the man had called him. An animated corpse that haunted the living, powered by rage.

Bruce might even have believed it two years ago, when Jason first returned. Jason had been so angry, intent on destroying Tim when the other was just a child.

When Jason was little more than a child.

But… that wasn’t all he was. He was himself, truly Jason Todd in ways Bruce hadn’t wanted to believe. He’d fought his rage and won every day.

Most days.

And being around Amity Park, being around Daniel James Fenton, might be enough to push him back over. To drag Jason closer back to death.

Halfas could act as psychopomps, bringing lost souls safely to the other side.

Jason had only just become himself again. They had only just begun healing the rift between them.

Bruce couldn’t lose him again.

They had to keep him away from Amity Park. It was as simple as that really; something in Jason’s resurrection had gone wrong and they all knew it.

Even Jason himself wouldn’t argue with that. Something about his death clung to him, poisoned him with that violent green rage.

His children’s reports told him that Danny was claiming to help with the pit rage because he had also been exposed. But what if he was just helping the pit?

Even if he didn’t mean to, exposing Jason to that much power that closely tied to death couldn’t be good. Constantine hadn’t exactly said as much, but Bruce could read between the lines.

Death magic was contagious between those who’d been infected. Who’d died and come back.

That wasn’t fun to know. Not with how many of his children, his friends had all died before.

Even he himself had. He’d have to investigate Amity Park personally. Take the risk himself, to keep it from the others.

Tim and Duke could help, but they were both so busy with their own lives. He would have to wait and see.

His meeting with Clark and Diana hadn’t gone well either. They’d both been gratifyingly concerned with what he’d learned and had recognized the threat.

Clark had promised to keep an ear out for Jason, to listen in on his heartbeat and make sure he was okay. Bruce would have been grateful, if Clark hadn’t also told him that Jason’s heart was noticeably slow.

Easy to pick out, even if they hadn’t spent much time together.

Just how close was his boy to dying again?

Diana had advised caution. Wanted to speak to Danny herself, see the hero who had shouldered the burden of this small town. See if he had turned under the pressure.

Pressure that should never have been his. Pressure they should all have shared, protecting the child and the town together.

It would be his fault if Danny had broken. Had given in to whatever in the Infinite Realms had stolen a whole town away.

Bruce knew that with a leaden certainty, felt the weight of it settle in his chest. The same way he knew he was responsible for most of his rogues.

He could see the wisdom in letting Diana talk to the man first. She was wiser than most of the League, and a good judge of character. Even without her lasso, it was hard to lie to her.

But if what Constantine said was true, he didn’t want to tip their hand. Zatanna and Shazam had both agreed to attend tomorrow and give their own opinions.

They could afford to wait one night. Perhaps two, if Danny couldn’t be found tomorrow.

Just about the only thing Bruce wasn’t worried about was Danny running. If he had ill intentions, he wasn’t the sort to give in and disappear so easily.

He’d threatened Bruce to stay out of things between him and Jason. And certainly wasn’t afraid of a fight.

Bruce was also quite sure that he and Diana could take the boy if it came to it, even with the abilities Constantine ascribed to the realms. He would find a way.

But not tonight, he reminded himself firmly as he strode into the zeta tube. Tonight he would go home, update his children, and get some sleep.

Maybe waiting a day or two to speak to Danny directly would help. This concussion had passed frustrating and was beginning to affect his decision making.

Shaking his head to clear it, Bruce hit the button to send him home. Soon he could rest. At least for a little while.

**

A gentle buzzer went off in the cave and Tim yelped like he’d been stung, clutching at Tucker’s arm in an entirely unmanly way.

“SHIT he’s back hide the candy canes!”

Tucker stared at him wide eyed, but to his credit the other man didn’t hesitate to sweep the pile of different flavoured canes off the desk and into the front of his shirt.

“Where?!” He asked, and Tim hesitated for half an instant.

The zeta tube was down by the cars. Bruce would be up in less than a minute. Spinning Tucker by the shoulders, he shoved him towards the infirmary.

“Get in there! Don’t come out til I say!” He hissed, already hearing the zeta tube’s door whoosh open.

Tucker obediently scurried away, and thank fuck he was quick on the uptake enough to drop his voice below a whisper.

“What?! Tim, what?! Am I not supposed to fucking be here?!” He hissed, and Tim pulled the infirmary door almost shut before darting back to the table.

He’d cleared it with Bruce, had texted about giving their guests a tour, but since it turned out that Tucker hadn’t already been in the know… well, he wanted to prime Bruce with the good news first.

The tube only pinged once though, so Constantine hadn’t come back with him. That was probably good. Bruce would be less cranky.

Tim wasn’t exactly back in his seat by the time Bruce reached the batcomputer, but he was close enough to watch him note the second chair.

Tim didn’t let him ask.

“I have a first hand witness account of what happened in Amity Park.” That was the important thing, right? That they had answers.

Bruce stared at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed and the whiteouts narrowing with them. Tim stared him down, refusing to look away.

He’d fucked up just like, a tiny bit. But he’d gotten results. Better results than anyone else. So was it really a fuck up?

He watched Bruce’s eyes widen as he realized, and was a little surprised when the man’s shoulders slumped. He dropped gracelessly into the swivel chair, elbows propped on the table and his head cradled in his hands.

Tim was growing a little alarmed now, hurrying forward to Bruce’s side. Was he injured? Had something happened?

His hand was just reaching out to touch when Bruce sighed and sat back up.

“Tim. Who did you bring to tour the cave?” He asked in a tired, heavy voice, and Tim’s brows furrowed.

What? He’d said, hadn’t he?

“Tucker Foley?” He said cautiously, wondering if he should call Alfred. Maybe switch out Bruce and Tucker and get the big guy into the infirmary.

Bruce was very still. Tim forged ahead, hoping to get to the good news.

“He was a vigilante back in Amity Park, part of the support team. I have his statement going back to the beginning of the ghost attacks, and he’s already answered most of our questions.”

Leaning past Bruce, he hit a couple of keys and brought up the sound file of Tucker’s interview.

Bruce was still a little slow as he turned to look, but it seemed to hearten him. Which was when Tim realized.

“Wait. Who did you think I was bringing?” He asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

Bruce shot him a sidelong frown, pulling off his cowl.

“Not a stranger,” he growled, though his heart clearly wasn’t in it. He just sounded tired.

Tim carefully patted him on the shoulder, still thoroughly confused.

“What? But I said…” he paused, pulling out his phone and staring at the texts.

Nope. No he didn’t.

Oops.

Groaning, Tim let his head drop.

“Ah fuck, and I thought we were doing so well!” He sighed heavily and Bruce made a grunt that might have been a laugh. “Alfred’s going to be unbearable.”

That shut Bruce right up, as it should, and then Bruce sighed again. They were moving past it then. Probably for the best, since Alfred would lecture them both on the importance of communication later.

At least it wasn’t only Tim’s fault. The only person who wasn’t a stranger or a bat had been Harley, and he wasn’t actually sure if Harley had cave privileges.

Well. She did now. Since that was what Bruce must have thought he was asking.

Then Bruce straightened, eyes determined and steely.

“I have new information from Constantine. The risks of the Infinite Realms.” It definitely heartened him to talk about, skipping straight to the debrief part of the day.

Maybe they could just skip right over the Tim-fucked-up-and-brought-a-stranger-to-the-cave.

“I need you all to keep away from the Amity Parkers until I know more.”

Ah.

No then. Nope, not skipping over it, because Tucker was actively still fucking in the cave. It was for the best that they’d hidden him then.

Tim shook his head firmly, hoping that if he seemed certain that would help.

“That’s not gonna work, Bruce. I couldn’t have fixed our Watchtower problem without Tucker, and we can’t look at any of the Amity Park data without an Amity Park device.” It was the theory they’d been running with, but they’d had it confirmed now.

Never mind that Tucker had already downloaded most of what was publicly available for them. Bruce would always want a primary source anyway.

Tim pretended it didn’t affect him when Bruce’s head jerked, eyes narrowed as he scowled at Tim.

“You let him into the code for the Watchtower?!” He exclaimed in a hiss. Which was interesting, since Tim had kinda figured the bat cave thing would be more personal.

Then again, the Watchtower could compromise more than that.

“Bruce, read the report on Tucker. We literally couldn’t stop him if he wanted to hack in, because his tech runs on levels that slide right past ours. Tech he’s already sharing,” he added sharply, reaching behind him without looking to hook his laptop forwards.

Bruce, mouth already open to argue, quieted at once. Yeah, new toys always helped. Tim nodded to the batcomputer.

“The update’s ready to go live, but I waited because you need to see this. Open the third window,” he nodded over, pulling up the corresponding section of code on the laptop.

Bruce’s expression pinched but he did as requested, clearly not willing to put another step between himself and the answer. A quick glance up to confirm, and Tim nodded to himself.

Fuck, he needed a laser pointer.

“So it all looks good up there, right?” He pushed and Bruce frowned, but nodded, eyes scanning quickly across the screen.

“Is this your update?” He asked but Tim was already shaking his head, pushing his own laptop towards the man.

Bruce’s eyes widened at the glitching sections of code. Tim nodded, satisfied he’d gotten Tim’s point.

“Tucker Foley wrote me a program so that I could access this ghost code. In half an hour. From scratch,” he added for emphasis, and yeah, he could already hear the lecture about “compromised tech”.

He tried to shut that one off too, pointing up at the screens.

“That? That’s apparently the work of a ghost. One called Technus, who likes to possess technology, and now Tucker and I are going through every line of the Watchtower’s code looking for changes.”

Bruce’s lips thinned to a tense line and he gave a short, harsh nod. He very obviously didn’t like it, but the presence of a bigger threat did wonders for calming him down.

Tim patted his laptop.

“We’re waiting on you to upgrade the batcomputer, but we’re gonna need to check every program on that too. Everything, Bruce. These ghosts could have been rewriting everything. And we’d never know if I hadn’t asked Tuck to help me with the Watchtower.”

Honestly, Tim was just hoping none of their rogues had made any ghostly connections. The implications made his head spin, but he stubbornly kept himself on track.

They needed Tucker’s help. Never mind that the ghosts themselves were reportedly allergic to subtlety and would always go big over going home; that was a tendency, not a guarantee.

Hell, if Tim had a say, he’d get Tucker’s upgrades for the ghost code, improved firewalls, and Danny’s ectoplasm into all his own gear by tomorrow.

He wasn’t going to, Bruce’s paranoia being what it was, but he was already uploading Tucker’s program to his suit’s wrist computer. It wasn’t like there’d be any hidden malware.

Tim had watched over his shoulder as Tucker wrote it, direct on the PDA. And watching him work had been… it was just…

He so rarely got to talk to anyone that was actually on his level. Rarer still that they weren’t a direct member of the family.

And Tucker, for all he currently had a tech advantage? He’d invented that advantage himself. All on his own, he was incredible. Maybe even better with some aspects of software than Tim himself.

The things they could do together… even the internship was pretty much a formality at this point. Just get Tuck through college and see if he’d accept a job at WE.

Hell, if he wanted to found his own company Tim would invest. That kind of brilliance deserved everything it needed to grow.

He had to wrench himself back to the present moment, the “introduce new genius to Batman” step still looming large, but honestly? Tim wasn’t worried. Bruce would see the potential.

Here and now Bruce’s gaze had gone distant, and Tim could easily have kept going, but he stayed quiet. Let the man absorb new information, stop and think.

And if he still wanted to make dumbass decisions, well, Tim could argue with him literally all night. They’d all picked up Bruce’s stubbornness too.

**

It was hard to focus on the screen through the throbbing of his head, the lights too bright even at their lowest setting. He’d checked.

Luckily, it was an issue he’d been dealing with for years, and Bruce pushed it aside with the resigned acceptance of long practice.

He’d pay for it later. That night of sleep was probably going to be a day of sleep at this rate, but he’d get at least six hours. More if Alfred caught him.

For now… Tim felt very strongly about this. Had good reason to, if he was even half right about the scope of the problem, or Tucker’s uses as a solution.

After hearing from one member of the Justice League Dark, Bruce was desperately hoping Tim was right. They sorely needed an ally, one they could trust to guide them through these dangerous waters.

Of course, Fenton and Foley were close. That may skew his judgement, but it could be accounted for. Wasn’t worth more than an ally whose skillset Bruce understood, and could trust.

Tucker Foley was a tech expert, which put him above any occult master in Bruce’s book. Magic had no rules, not that could be relied on, and Bruce wouldn’t touch it if he didn’t have to.

And Tucker’s tech would work with his own.

There’d be a review period of course. He’d have to meet Tucker himself, speak to him a little, get a sense of the man. See how far his opinions would be based in fact, not feeling.

Tim’s vouch was a good first step. As little as Bruce liked that Tim had brought an outsider down to the lab. And then let him use Tim’s computer.

And honestly, it certainly wasn’t Tim’s fault that Bruce hadn’t asked. He’d been lax, not checked properly, and it was that damned concussion slowing him down.

He needed sleep. His thinking was dangerously clouded. But one thing was always true: he trusted Tim’s judgement. Probably more than he trusted his own at the moment.

They could review the situation in the morning, come up with some suitable punishment and protocol to introduce new vigilantes to the cave (which they’d never needed, because other heroes usually came through the League and were already vetted).

A thought struck and Bruce almost smiled. It would be a fitting solution on three separate sides. Maybe the punishment would be easy after all.

“Alright. I’ll need to speak to Foley first. And you will be writing out fresh protocols to address when a new hero but not a league member can be introduced to the cave,” he added, and Tim groaned loudly.

Bruce ignored him. That was just the start of his troubles.

“You will also be responsible for running John Constantine through the full reporting system, and updating the training materials so this doesn’t happen again.” It was a weight off his shoulders, really.

And a fitting punishment, because Tim would definitely think twice before pulling this stunt again. The man himself threw both his hands into the air.

“What?! Bruce! You said you fixed it!” He whined, and Bruce resisted the urge to smile.

“And I fixed Amity Park. But I highly doubt this was his only error, so the two of you will have to review every case he’s reported on before you go back on patrol.”

It was probably several hundred since they’d had the new system alone. Tim groaned like Bruce was sucking the soul from his body.

Bruce levelled him with a stern look.

“I take the secrecy of the cave seriously, Red Robin. This will not happen again.”

“Because I’m gonna die of old age sitting at a desk with Constantine,” Tim grumbled, folding his arms and scowling.

It wasn’t even something he could write a program to fudge for him; every case would need Constantine’s personal input to be sure it was filed correctly.

Bruce was quite pleased with this solution. But he made sure to hide the smile from Tim, who wouldn’t appreciate it right now.

“Tucker Foley may end up working out for us all, but that’s no guarantee a future mistake won’t be fatal. And Tim…” even if it was a formality at this point, he had to ask. “Do you trust him?”

The answer was obvious, this was Tim’s personal laptop, this was the Bat Cave, and as expected Tim nodded immediately, the sulk from his punishment vanishing.

“He’s a good guy. He’s even made a clean set of Amity Park data you can look through until Danny fixes the batcomputer.”

Ah. And there was the problem. With a solution wrapped around it though, so Bruce focused on the cleaned set of data.

If Tucker was anything like Tim, it’d be extensive enough to keep him busy until the Justice League came to a decision.

Until he could speak to Danny. Speak to Jason.

He was so tired.

Bruce nodded, leaning back in his seat.

“Alright. Tucker Foley is exempted, but I need you and the others to stay away from the rest, and particularly Danny Fenton until the League has made a decision.”

It was just a little heart breaking watching Tim’s face fall from hope and happiness straight back into worry.

“But Bruce… he’s helping Jason with the pit, he might need to see him,” he argued, arms folding again.

Bruce shook his head. That was exactly what he was afraid of.

“I know… and I know how Jason feels about following orders. I’ll tell him myself, tonight.” Luckily he was still in the batsuit, if not the cowl.

Raising his wrist to his face, Bruce activated his secondary comm on the group channel. He’d turned both off when his children headed out, fully aware Oracle would override it if they needed him.

He didn’t need to be distracted by the noises of a normal night.

“Everyone, return to the cave before heading in please. There have been developments I need to update you on.” Nothing to worry them, but hopefully interesting enough that Jason would still drop in.

No talk of protocols or anything. No, that was Tim’s future.

Tim, who was looking at him oddly.

“Who told you Jason went out tonight?” He asked, and Bruce frowned. Looked up at the batcomputer, and realized that the tracker screen wasn’t open.

That could be a problem.

“Didn’t he?” He asked, really not looking forward to asking Dick to ask Jason to drop by tonight. If Jason was actually home, actually sleeping…

But Tim shook his head, that odd expression still on his face.

“He never said he would, but he called in after taking Danny home. He’s out with Black Bat,” Tim added, and Bruce frowned.

Why even bring it up if Jason was out? What did it matter?

Tim, clearly seeing and understanding his confusion, groaned and tugged at his hair.

“Bruce. Please, just… listen to me. Danny isn’t the threat here. He’s been nothing but helpful. He’s the one who picked up the ball when the League dropped it, who dealt with all the ghosts we can’t. He saved that town-”

“We don’t know that, Tim,” Bruce cut him off, shaking his head sharply. “We can’t take that risk.”

He could see Tim getting frustrated, temper flaring, and in an odd way, it made him feel better. Calm. In control.

“Bruce, you stubborn… so what? We just tell Jason to keep away from the only person who makes him feel better?” Tim asked sarcastically, and Bruce could see exactly how he’d missed the point.

This was what he’d have to watch for with Tucker Foley. But the technical advantages would be worth it.

“We don’t know that he’s making the pits better,” Bruce said darkly, and fuck it felt good to even voice the thought aloud.

Made it feel real, less like paranoia.

Tim gaped at him, but didn’t argue.

Bruce raised a hand, counting the points off on his fingers.

One.

“None of us heard anything about him a week ago. Not even a few days. Fenton has been here over a year and only just ran into Jason?” It wasn’t possible.

It didn’t make sense. Gotham was a large city, sure, but for two people apparently so closely linked? No.

A second finger rose.

“Danny himself claims that he is helping with the pits.”

“Jason agrees,” Tim cut in, clearly looking to break his train of thought. Bruce silenced him with a stern glare.

“Danny claims he is helping with the pits. Jason claims to have noticed the same thing, but we already know the pits affect his mind. He may not understand what’s being done to him.”

That? That made perfect sense. The pits had driven Jason into those uncontrollable rages, made him do things he’d never have wanted to.

Who was to say they couldn’t have a more subtle influence? More dangerous? More like Ra’s himself.

Even Tim couldn’t argue with that, and Bruce nodded his satisfaction at the boy’s silence, raising a third finger. This… he wasn’t looking forward to this one.

But its weight had been sitting in his chest since the possibility came up, and he didn’t want to hide anything from his boys. They deserved to know the risks.

No matter how much he’d rather protect them from it.

“The little f… Constantine believes there is a chance that even being close to Danny may have dangerous side effects for Jason, purely accidentally.”

Tim’s eyebrow rose at the aborted description, and Bruce was glad he’d clamped down on it. Couldn’t quite meet the boy’s eye as he continued to explain.

“Danny’s connection to… his death,” the words were hard to even speak, another child lost, “is what gives him his power. It’s strong, and may have radiating effects Danny doesn’t even know about.”

Because that was kind of the worst part. There was a chance that Danny truly meant everything he’d said in earnest. That he was Jason’s friend, wanted to protect him.

Wanted to help Jason come back to himself and be free of the pit rage. That they did truly care for each other, and wanted to make each other better.

And none of those good intentions would matter if Danny’s mere presence risked Jason’s soul.

He could see Tim realizing it too, eyes widening and the aggression slumping from his shoulders. But he’d decided to be honest.

Clear, open communication. They could try.

“The way Jason came back… we still don’t know how it happened, or why. But anything half living and half dead can have side effects on the world around them, especially for those who have already died.”

Danny might be here to take Jason away. Back to the dead.

He’d meant to say the words, to lay it bare, but in the end he choked on them. Couldn’t even face the thought.

Tomorrow. After he slept. If they still needed convincing, he’d try again tomorrow. Which did neatly bring them to point number four.

Steeling himself, Bruce shifted his gaze back to Tim, raising his pinky finger.

“And if you are right, if Danny really is helping… it’ll only be for a few days. I meet with the League tomorrow. Zatanna and Shazam will both be there to give their opinions.”

Suddenly Bruce just felt tired. Tired of arguing, trying to make people see things his way. All he wanted was a couple of days. Just to be sure. Just to be safe.

Tim raised an eyebrow again, shifting slowly to lean against the other chair.

“Then why will it be a few days? Why not tomorrow?” He asked cautiously and Bruce chuckled.

Of course Tim knew him well enough to know there would be something else.

“I’d like to talk to him myself first. Perhaps have them meet him directly. Just to be sure what his intentions are in the city.”

“And with Jason,” Tim put in flatly. Bruce just nodded. The boy was right.

“With the city and with Jason,” he agreed, looking back up at the large screens of the batcomputer.

Pulled up the location tracker for his bats and birds, watching their little trails of light run across the city. He wouldn’t let any of those lights wink out.

Tim sighed and shook his head, coming to lean against the back of Bruce’s chair instead. Not quite tall enough to rest his chin on the top of Bruce’s head, and not likely to grow much more at nineteen.

“I still think it’s a bad idea,” he said bluntly, eyes tracking the Red Hood dot in particular. “You’ll only push Jason further away by trying to control who he sees.”

Bruce shook his head, leaning back just a little more into the presence of his son.

“I don’t care if Jason hates me for the rest of his life, so long as it’s a long and healthy one,” he said softly, and Tim snorted.

Pushed away from the chair, and for a moment the distance ached.

“Yeah, well. When it blows up in your face, I told you so. Did you wanna see Tucker tonight or tomorrow?” He asked, and Bruce’s head snapped suddenly around, scanning the cave.

“He’s still here?”

**

Shaking his head, Tim made his way across the cave to the infirmary, pulling out his phone where Bruce couldn’t see it. He shot off a quick text, not looking down.

‘J. Don’t come back to cave. B has mega bitch face just let him cool down’

**

Across the city, the message flashed in the corner of Red Hood’s helmet visor. Groaning to himself, Hood kicked a goon’s gun into Gotham bay and waved to Black Bat.

“You good? I gotta send a text.” He called, deeply offending the eight goons still standing, armed with knives and fucking pipes, and tussling with Black Bat.

Which only got worse when she shot him a quick thumbs up, sat on a particularly tall goon’s shoulders before throwing herself back so far the guy toppled, twisting them in the air so she still somehow wound up on top.

Hood nodded, pulling out his phone one handed.

“Hey! You can’t just text! We’re not done!” A goon protested, rushing in at Red Hood.

Who pulled his gun and shot him in both kneecaps, sending him sprawling to the slick planks of the dock.

This was why he always took out their shooters first. Batman could preach hand to hand all he liked, it was way safer when the bad guys had holes in their hands and no guns.

“Anyone else?” Hood asked rhetorically, pointing the last gun on the dock at the remaining goons in turn. In unison, all six focused their attention solely on Black Bat.

Not because they thought they’d win, but well. She didn’t have a fucking gun.

“Yeah, thought so,” Hood grumbled, sending a quick message back to Tim.

Paused to take a picture when Black Bat actually got three heads at once into a leg lock, because that had to be a record.

‘Is it to do with your big fuck up?’ Cuz honestly, what else could B be pissed about?

The answer came back though, fast and weird.

‘As hard as I also find it to believe this, no. Magician’s got him all twisted around about Phantom. Wants to forbid us all from seeing him.’

The phone creaked in Jason’s grip as he read the last words, a low rumbling growl spilling from low in his chest.

The remaining standing goons whipped around and exchanged startled looks.

That. That definitely wasn’t fucking good. No way.

Black Bat took another to floor as they paused, and the last three fled. Didn’t quite make it to the door.

Jason didn’t notice until her hand landed gently on his shoulder, concern radiating off her. His head whipped round, and he was suddenly glad the full helmet covered his face.

Couldn’t see the way he fucking snarled at her.

Black Bat didn’t move, her head cocked to one side as she regarded him.

“Eyes. Glowing,” she told him carefully, reaching up to touch the side of his helmet.

Jason jerked back in shock, but he could already feel the green rushing away. Receding until his vision purely his own again.

He hadn’t even noticed the green haze.

Black Bat inspected him again, then nodded, going on tiptoes to pat him on top of the head.

“What’s wrong?”

Red Hood sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to recenter. He’d never felt the rage come on that fast, from nothing to all consuming before he even felt it.

Even thinking of the messages made angry green tides again.

We will not be kept from the King!

And it was talking to him again. Lovely. Why couldn’t that part have been his imagination?

Shaking his head, he focused on Black Bat’s question instead.

“Just B bein’ an asshole again. I’m gonna pass on the cave tonight, tell him I went to bed.” It was about as much as he thought he could talk about it without screaming.

Almost forgot that Black Bat could read him too, her aura still soothing and open to him as she nodded. Rested a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Go now. Rest,” she told him firmly, turning back to the downed and groaning goons.

Red Hood hesitated, looking around the dock. It was getting early, nearly time to turn in anyway, and they were done here. Just a routine drug shipment.

The last lot too dense to be cowed by the mood on the streets, or counting on the hour to mean the bats went to bed. Cuz that went so well for them.

He nodded and moved to help her, flipping the biggest goon over and zip tying his wrists to his elbows, and then his ankles.

“After I help you wrap your presents,” he agreed, heard Black Bat let out a soft huff of laughter.

One of the still conscious goons shot him a glare.

“Y’could at least pretend to take us seriously,” she grumbled, then yelped as one of her fellow goons kicked her in the shins.

Clear message: do not push the crazy bat.

Red Hood snorted.

“I’ll take you seriously when you’ve fuckin’ earned it,” he told her, going for the next biggest body.

Black Bat could take every one of them out of the fight, but bagging and tagging a dead weight was much less fun for her. He could handle that part before turning in.

He had a big day tomorrow.

**

Private Chat: DannyP & TooFine

4:30am

‘TooFine: dude Tim just shoved me in a closet I don’t think Batman knows I’m here?????’

‘TooFine: dude’

‘TooFine: dude wake tf up I might need emergency evac 🚨🚨’

4:35am

‘TooFine: that fucking Constantine guy’s put a bug in Batman’s ass’

‘TooFine: told u we shoulda hunted him down 😤’

‘TooFine: and after all I did to help!! Ungrateful bat!!’

4:46am

‘TooFine: okay Batman fucking hates u specifically ur screwed 😳’

‘TooFine: I’m good tho 😇’

‘TooFine: I think he likes me now 😏’

‘TooFine: he wants all my sweet tech upgrades’

‘TooFine: they’re gonna let me play on the batcomputer!!! 😳😳😳’

5am

‘TooFine: u are missing vital updates bitch’

‘TooFine: he’s gonna fucking ground Jason from hanging out with u’

‘TooFine: AH SHIT HE KNOWS IM HERE ABORT ABORT ABORT’

8am

‘TooFine: u may have been right going to bed early man this shit sucks’

‘TooFine: didn’t even get to see what happened’

‘TooFine: they sent me to bed like a naughty child! 😤’

‘TooFine: I’m changing all his ring tones to Funky Town’

10:59am

‘DannyP: okay miette’

11:02am

‘HalfBitch: OKAY IM SORRY TUCKER AT LEAST TAKE THE MAGIC MIKE THEME OFF’

——————————

Next Chapter:

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Y is for -- Yes Man

Yay! Golly, who doesn't love Yes Man? He's just such a sarcastic little sweetheart and I'm not immune to his adorable, securitron charms. So, here's this!

I hope you all enjoy!

And with this, that's it!!

Thank you all so much for being a part of my lil 2k celebration! It was so amazing seeing everyone's reactions to these prompts, and literally SUCH a treat to write for some of these more "unfamiliar" characters! Love you all, and thank you so much for celebrating with me!

Next event updates will be coming... very soon 👀 So stay tuned for that! ❤️😊

And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!

--

Pair: Yes Man & Reader

Dialogue: “Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up.”

Word: Yours

Rating: SFW

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 1.7k

You paced back and forth around the hotel room, the only sound the scuffling of your slippered feet and the scrawl of your pen over the legal pad in your hands. 

“Is it enough, though? Did we even cover the–” Your eyes narrowed as you looked over your scribbled notes, trying (and failing) to blink the sleep from them as you attempted to decipher the chicken scratch upon the page. “The Boomers? What’re we doing about them when we take power, I mean, I haven’t even met with them yet, what if I get–” 

“Yep, we sure did talk about them, Six! Remember? In the first meeting we had today! The one at 4 in the morning that you insisted on! You remember now?” 

“The one… oh yeah, I do now.” You chuckled, flipping through the papers on your pad to the notes you’d taken-- what was it now, ten hours ago? 

My handwriting was much easier to read this morning, that’s for sure…

“‘Send a securitron with a note…' oh yeah, that was a decent idea.” 

“Sure was!” Yes Man agreed with that same dopey, optimistic smile permanently etched upon his face. 

After so long a day, the smile became much harder to believe. 

“Definitely get your best ideas after having slept a full night, don’tcha boss?” 

“Maybe…” You bit your bottom lip at that, catching his meaning through the words easily. 

Time for bed, boss. 

He’d never give you a command outright, you knew he couldn’t. It’s not what… what Benny designed Yes Man for, after all. Still though, suggestions he gave rather often. And this suggestion, most often of all. 

How many days has it been since I let myself sleep? And here? Probably never…

Well, not since that first night, anyway.

“Six? Still thinking of some wonderful ideas, or do you want me to go and get your pajamas for you?” 

“Still thinking right now, Yes Man.” 

Though, you allowed yourself the small reprieve of sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress gave generously as you sat upon it, the plushness of it overwhelming you after so many nights spent down in Freeside at the Wrangler. 

“Might head out pretty soon, here.” You told the bot, with the knowledge that he could easily guess where you meant to go. “You can stay here tonight though, if you want to. I’ll be back early enough, I’m sure.” 

“Sure boss, sounds like a swell idea!” Yes Man paused, but you could tell he wanted to say more, you didn’t quite know how you knew that, but something about his tone, or maybe even his expression–

I really am starting to lose it, huh? 

Yes Man’s expression doesn’t change.

Guess this is what happens when you get 3 hours of sleep a–

“Yes. I think it makes total and utter sense for you to walk to the Atomic Wrangler through the strip and Freeside– which is known to be quite dangerous– at two in the morning without me by your side to help you! And then to come back here in the morning, likely as early as four a.m. to chat with me some more! I’m so glad we’re going to have someone as dedicated, dependable and quick-witted as you leading all of New Vegas real soon! You seem completely equipped for the stresses that’ll bring!” 

You pursed your lips as he spoke, your tired gaze resting on the dull, pulsing glow of his screen lighting up with each word, casting a green-tinged gleam over the carpeted floor of the Tops' hotel suite. 

“I don’t know what to do, Yes Man.” You admitted with a small voice, and heard the turn of his wheel as he scooted closer to you to better hear your words. “I… I can’t stay here, can’t sleep in this room, after Benny…” 

With a sigh, you laid back on the bed, your body aching and pleading for a rest, even as your mind cast the sensation of a thousand ants crawling over your skin at the feel of the familiar sheets. The smell of the room, the décor, even the sounds; the dull conversations and jazz music that were all blaring far down stairs, the squeaky whine of the elevator moving along its vertical track, footsteps pattering through the halls… Anytime there was quiet, any time you weren’t moving, thinking, that Yes Man wasn’t talking, you were sucked back into your memories of this place. Your first time here, with him. 

That wretched man who tried to kill you. The asshole, who talked his way into your heart through the span of one night, who made you feel… singular. Like you could conquer the world, and run the whole thing, with him at your side. 

Just give him the chip… Just stay the night… 

Do what he said, and he would give you the world, and his heart, all at once. 

You kicked yourself every night at the thought that you ever believed him. 

But what could you say now? At the time, you were scared, you were alone and angry, and then… Then you were in love. Quickly, yes, but still, you were.

And for what?

You raked your nails down your face painfully, and a deep groan escaped you as you were caged by your own memories in this wretched room. 

“Well, Benny… Well, that guy’s gone!" Yes Man piped up, "It’s just you and me now, Six! You don’t have to worry at all–”

“I know he’s gone, Yes Man! That’s the fucking problem!” You sat up suddenly as you shouted at him, and the bot backed away from where he’d started to approach you. “He and I were supposed to do this together! Not just me and– and– fucking you.”

You were on your feet now, and Yes Man was caged in against the opposite wall as you stalked towards him, with nostrils flared and teeth in a snarl, you continued.

“You were the enemy. You told him how to follow me, knew the best place for him to fucking shoot me and leave me buried in the dirt, you were meant to plot with him from the start, and now? Now... why? Why the hell do you care what happens to me? Why are you planning all this without him? Benny was the one who made you, programmed you, what… What the hell are you doing with me, when… When you’re his.”  

There was no malice in the end, it had all escaped you in the first bouts of shouting. Now, all that was left was a somber sort of curiosity. Honest, but dejected all at once. 

Even now, I’m still holding onto a part of Benny…

“Because, Six, well… I’m not his anymore. I’m yours! I like planning this hostile takeover with you, and I like the meetings and the way you ask my opinion!” 

You looked up from where your gaze had rested on the dull, red carpet, your eyes now meeting Yes Man’s optimistic screen, and lighting up with the glow of it.   

“Benny may have asked for me to be made, and programmed the way I am, but then… Well, he left both of us, didn’t he?”   

Was that… a bit of anger and, even, a touch of sadness in his upbeat voice?

Maybe I am just losing it…     

“He was my boss, but now you are! And even more than that, you’re my friend!” 

You blinked at him, feeling your throat swell up with emotion at the word he used. 

Friend. 

“Y-you really mean that, Yes Man?”

“Sure do, pal! We’re closer than two buildings snugly adjacent to one another! And I mean it!” 

A laugh couldn’t help but pry itself from you, and you nearly fell over from the force of it. Until you felt one gentle, metal hand brace on your shoulder. 

“Don’t know why you found that so funny, friend, but I sure am glad you did! I like to see your smile! And I’m not just saying that to be nice! I know it can be hard to tell when I mean something because of the way Benny programmed my voice, but I really do mean everything that I said! And what I said right now!” 

“Okay, okay!” You were still falling over, holding your stomach as you laughed until your eyes watered. “Thank you, Yes Man, I believe you, I do.” 

Somehow, you were back on the bed, sitting with Yes Man’s hand still on your shoulder as you fought to catch your breath. 

“A-alright…” You spoke, once you’d calmed down. “I… might be able to sleep here tonight. Maybe.” 

You bit your lip again, knowing damn well you were one bite shy of making it bleed with all the nerves coursing through you. 

“Just… Can you promise me something?” 

“Sure can, once you tell me what it is!” 

“Can you just… promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up? I know it seems silly, but–”

“Yes, Six. I promise I’ll still be here when you wake up!” 

A smile touched your lips at his words, and even with that feeling of foolishness at the forefront of your mind, you felt… reassured; like the sustained, comforting pressure of his hand on your shoulder. 

“Thanks… Friend.” 

“Sure thing, Six! And, I want you to know, I’m not just promising that because I have to agree with everything you say! I would promise it either way!” 

You laid back, finally feeling the fatigue in your body and mind take hold of you and force your eyelids to close and your muscles to relax into the mattress below. Still though, even in your exhaustion, you found it in you to broaden your grin at Yes Man’s words.

“Glad to hear it.” You told him, “And… goodnight, Yes Man.” 

“Goodnight, Six!” His voice was quieter, as he wheeled himself back into his corner of the room and dimmed the lights down, “I’ll see you in the morning!” 

It was almost a whisper, but still, the comforting words rang through you as you finally felt sleep take you into it’s comforting arms and lull you into a pleasant dreamland.

[sicknessbysalem]

I DIDNT KNOW JULIAN WAS A CHEERLEADER?? Is he a competitive cheerleader or just a sports cheerleader?? Well, you know what I’m going to ask for after that fic with Saylor (also I love that he was so embarrassed being sick in front of that guy… bf for julian in the future???) Can you please give us a fic of Julian getting suck during cheer practice or something?? If you need dialogue prompts, can you do “My stomach is all fluttery, and not in the good way.” / “My stomach feels off” / “Anyone’s stomach would feel icky after (insert what ever) don’t feel bad about it.” or any of your favorite dialogues you think would fit? Thank you!!

this one is a little shorter than usual but here we are!

julian does both competitive cheer and school cheer. i decided to have some fun with this.

If you have any questions, comments, requests, etc, send them my way!

tw emeto… that’s pretty much it i think

The gym was nearly empty as Julian practiced his routines, the faint echo of his movements the only sound breaking the silence.

He had been here for hours, pushing himself to perfect every flip, every twist, and every landing. The upcoming competition that weekend loomed large in his mind, and he was determined to be in top form. Even if he couldn’t practice everything, he could practice enough.

Saylor stood at the edge of the gym, watching him with a mixture of admiration and concern. A few times he looked over, Saylor would push herself in handstands, or she’d flip over one of the uneven bars.

“Were you, the great Saylor Thompson, a gymnast?” He teased as she flipped off the bar and landed surprisingly well.

“Not officially,” Saylor said, “Couldn’t afford it. But my gymnast friends would bring me to the gym when i was younger, and I stayed agile on the streets.”

She wanted to be here. With him, at the gym. She knew how important cheer was to Julian, but she also knew the toll it was taking on him. His relentless drive to be the best sometimes bordered on overtraining, and she worried about his health and safety.

"Jules, don't you think you've had enough for today?" Saylor called out, her voice tinged with worry.

Julian paused mid-tumble, breathing heavily. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked over at her with a determined smile. "Just one more run, Saylor. I need to nail this routine."

Saylor crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. "You've been saying that for the past hour. You're going to wear yourself out before the competition."

Julian shook his head, his resolve unwavering. "I’m fine, really. I just need to keep practicing. I want to make sure everything is perfect."

Saylor sighed, walking over to where he stood. "I get it, Jules. I really do. But pushing yourself this hard isn’t going to help. You're already an amazing cheerleader. You need to give yourself a break."

Julian's smile softened, and he reached out to squeeze her hand. "Thanks, Saylor. But I just have to keep going. I know I can do better."

Saylor looked at him for a long moment, then decided to change tactics. "Alright. Well, what if we cool down, stretch out, and you can tell me more about your crush on that football player? Maybe that’ll help you relax a bit."

Julian's cheeks flushed a faint pink, and he laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Saylor, you’re terrible. What makes you think I have a crush on Keagan?"

"Oh please," Saylor teased, rolling her eyes. "You light up like a Christmas tree every time he walks by. It’s painfully obvious."

Julian shook his head, still smiling. "Maybe I do. He’s just... I don’t know, there’s something about him."

Saylor grinned, sensing an opportunity to distract him from his relentless training. "So, what is it? His charming personality? His athletic prowess? Those dreamy eyes?"

Julian laughed again, more relaxed now. "All of the above, I guess. He’s really sweet, too. We talked a bit after practice the other day, and he was genuinely interested in what I do."

Saylor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? What did he say?"

Julian shrugged, a shy smile playing on his lips. "He asked about cheerleading and seemed impressed when I told him about some of the stunts we do. It was nice, having someone take an interest."

Saylor nudged him playfully. "Sounds like someone’s got it bad. You should totally ask him out."

Julian's blush deepened. "I don't know, Saylor. What if he’s not interested?"

Saylor shook her head. "You won’t know until you try. Besides, you’re an amazing guy, Jules. Any person would be lucky to go out with you."

Julian smiled, the tension in his body finally starting to ebb. "Thanks, Saylor. Maybe I will."

Saylor nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now, how about we call it a night? You’ve practiced enough, and you need to rest."

Julian hesitated, but seeing the concern in Saylor’s eyes, he finally relented. "Alright, you win. But only because you’ve convinced me with all your wise words about Keagan."

Saylor laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I’m always right, Jules. Remember that."

As they left the gym together, Julian felt a sense of calm wash over him. Everything was going to be fine. It had to be. It would be.

-

A few days later, Julian found himself back in the gym, surrounded by his team as they prepared for their final practice before the big competition. The atmosphere was tense, everyone feeling the pressure to perform their best.

Julian was particularly on edge, looking around and seeing two cheerleaders missing.

"Where's Emily?" one of the other cheerleaders, Maria, asked as they gathered in a circle.

"She called in sick," the coach said, looking concerned. "Apparently, that stomach bug that's been going around got her. Hopefully, she recovers quickly."

Julian felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach. Missing even one member of the team could throw off their entire routine, and with the competition so close, they couldn't afford any setbacks.

"We need to go over the routine and see if we can make any adjustments," the coach continued. "Julian, you'll need to fill in for Emily's spot today. Let's hope she recovers in time."

Julian nodded, trying to push down his worry. "Got it, Coach."

As they started their practice, Julian couldn't shake the nagging fear that more of his teammates might fall ill. Each lift and flip felt more precarious, the usual confidence he felt in the air replaced by a gnawing uncertainty. He pushed himself harder, determined to compensate for any potential gaps.

Saylor watched from the sidelines, her eyes following Julian's every move. She could see the strain on his face, the way his usually fluid motions were more tense and deliberate. During a break, she walked over to him, handing him a water bottle.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Julian took a long drink, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just worried, you know? If more of us get sick, it could ruin everything."

Saylor nodded, understanding his anxiety. "I get it. But you can't control who gets sick. All you can do is focus on your part and trust that the rest will fall into place."

Julian sighed, glancing around at his teammates. "I know, but it's hard not to think about it. We’ve worked so hard for this."

Saylor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You guys are amazing, Jules. You've got this. Just do your best and try not to worry about the what-ifs."

Julian smiled, her words providing a small but much-needed boost. "Thanks, Saylor. I needed that."

"Anytime," she replied, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Now get back out there and show them what you’ve got."

Julian nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. He rejoined his team, his focus sharpened by Saylor's encouragement.

As they continued to practice, he reminded himself to stay in the moment, to trust in his training and his teammates.

-

Competition day had finally arrived, and the energy in the air was electric. Julian stood in front of the mirror in the locker room, adjusting his uniform with shaky hands.

His anxiety was at its peak, a familiar sensation that always hit him before a big performance. But today, there was something else mixed in with the nerves—a sickly feeling that he couldn't quite shake.

Saylor was there, as always, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of his emotions. She handed him a water bottle and a reassuring smile as she touched up his makeup.

“You’re ready for this, Jules. You've got this." She tried to assure him.

Julian took a sip of water, trying to calm his racing heart. "Yeah, I’m ready. Just... really nervous."

Saylor gave him a knowing look. "I know. But I have a little surprise that might cheer you up…”

“What did you do..?” Julian asked.

“Well, I know people, and other people fear me for whatever reason, but logistics aside,” Saylor said, “I arranged for Keagan to come watch you today."

Julian blinked, his expression not changing as much as Saylor had expected. Normally, news like this would elicit at least a blush or a stammer from him. Instead, he looked more pale, more distant.

"Jules? Did you hear what I said? Keagan is here."

Julian nodded slowly, his hand pressing against his stomach. "Yeah, I heard you. My stomach feels fluttery…”

“Well, obviously, the man you are absolutely into is here to watch you compete,” Saylor said, “Here, for you!”

“No,” Julian shook his head, “My stomach feels fluttery… and not in a good way."

Saylor frowned, noticing the unusual lack of excitement in his reaction. "Julian, are you okay? You don't look so good."

Julian shook his head, trying to muster a smile but failing. "I don’t know. I mean, I’m always nervous on competition day, but this feels different. My stomach is really upset."

Saylor's concern deepened. "Are you sure it’s just nerves? Maybe you should sit down for a minute."

Julian took a deep breath, leaning against the wall. "I can't sit down. I need to be out there. But I really don’t feel right."

Saylor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Okay, let’s take it slow. Just breathe. Maybe it’s just the extra pressure of today and having Keagan here."

Julian nodded, though his face still looked strained. "Maybe. But I don't want to mess this up."

"You won't," Saylor said firmly. "You’ve trained so hard for this. And I’ll be right here, every step of the way."

Julian took another deep breath, trying to focus on Saylor's words. He knew she was right—he had trained for this moment, and he had his team and Saylor's support. But the queasiness in his stomach was hard to ignore.

As they walked towards the main arena, Julian’s steps were slower than usual. Saylor stayed close, watching him carefully. She could tell he was struggling, but his determination was clear. When they reached the waiting area, she turned to him.

"Remember, Jules, just do your best. No one can ask for more than that."

Julian nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Thanks, Saylor. I’ll try."

As the announcer called their team to the stage, Julian took one last deep breath, pushing aside his discomfort.

The lights were bright, the crowd roaring with anticipation. He spotted Keagan in the audience, giving a small wave. Keagan smiled and waved back, a look of pride on his face.

Despite his nerves and the unease in his stomach, Julian felt a surge of determination. He was here to perform, to show everyone what he and his team could do. And with Saylor and Keagan watching, he knew he had all the support he needed.

As the music started, Julian launched into his routine, every flip and twist a testament to his hard work and dedication. The anxiety and sickness melted away with each move, replaced by the adrenaline and exhilaration of the performance. He was in his element, and nothing could hold him back.

Julian soared through the air, his body twisting and turning with practiced precision as his teammates launched him skyward.

Being a flyer meant he was the centerpiece of many stunts, and while he usually relished the thrill, today every toss and catch made his already unsettled stomach churn more violently.

Each landing sent a jolt through his body, exacerbating the nausea that had been gnawing at him all day.

From the sidelines, Saylor watched with growing concern. She could see Julian was pushing himself harder than ever, his movements less fluid than usual.

Beside her, Keagan was cheering, but his enthusiasm waned as he noticed Saylor's tense posture and worried expression.

"Something wrong?" Keagan asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Saylor shook her head, her eyes never leaving Julian. "I think he's not feeling well. He's been off all day. Said his stomach was bothering him earlier…”

Keagan frowned, his gaze shifting to Julian. "Should we do something?"

Saylor shook her head, “Not now. But maybe I can check on him after their routine.”

“I’ll come,” Keagan said, “Unless that would make it worse.”

“It shouldn’t, you’ll just follow me.” Saylor said, watching carefully.

As the routine continued, Julian felt himself growing weaker. Every flip and twist seemed to sap more of his energy, and he struggled to keep his focus.

By the time they reached the final stunt, his vision was blurring, and he knew he was close to his limit.

When the sequence ended, Julian landed shakily, barely managing to stay upright. His teammates noticed his condition and supported him as they exited the stage. Saylor and Keagan made their way over, weaving through the crowd.

Saylor reached Julian first, her eyes filled with concern. "Jules, are you okay?"

Julian tried to smile but ended up grimacing. "I don't know... I feel really sick."

Keagan approached, his expression mirroring Saylor's worry. "Let's get him somewhere quiet," he suggested.

Saylor nodded, letting Keagan take over as they guided Julian to a quieter area. She stayed close, her heart pounding with worry. Julian, despite his condition, seemed more concerned about the situation's embarrassment factor.

"I can't... believe... this is happening," Julian muttered, his voice weak.

Keagan knelt beside him, his hand on Julian's shoulder. "It's okay, Julian. Just breathe. We're here."

Julian closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, but his body had other plans. He retched suddenly, the force of it making him double over.

Keagan supported him, whispering soothing words as Julian vomited onto the grass. The exertion from the performance combined with his earlier discomfort had finally taken its toll.

Saylor watched, her heart aching for her friend. She wanted to help, but she knew Keagan had it under control. She stepped back slightly, giving them space but staying close enough to offer support if needed.

Julian's body convulsed with each heave, the sickness wracking him with a painful intensity.

Keagan's presence was a comfort, his steady hand keeping Julian grounded. "You're doing great, Julian. Just let it out."

Finally, the vomiting subsided, leaving Julian panting and weak. He leaned heavily against Keagan, his body trembling. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Keagan shook his head. "Don't apologize. Anyone would feel bad after doing what you just did, on a good day. You're okay now. Let's get you somewhere you can rest."

Saylor stepped forward, her eyes filled with compassion. "We've got you, Jules. Let's get you home."

With Keagan's help, they guided Julian to a nearby bench. Keagan sat beside him, keeping a supportive arm around his shoulders.

Saylor handed Julian a bottle of water, her voice gentle. "Drink this, slowly."

Julian took a sip, grateful for their support. "Thank you," he said, his voice hoarse. "I don't know what I'd do without you guys."

Keagan smiled, his grip on Julian's shoulder reassuring. "We're here for you, Julian. Always."

Saylor nodded, her worry easing slightly. "Just rest now. We'll take care of everything else."

As Julian leaned back, trying to recover, he felt a deep sense of gratitude for his friends. Despite the sickness and the embarrassment, he knew he was in good hands.

“I’ll go see if someone has something cold or could make you cold,” Keagan said, “Be right back.”

Keagan stepped away, and Saylor giggled softly.

“You’re not letting me live this down, are you?” Julian said.

“Oh no, definitely not,” Saylor said, “Throwing up in front of the guy you’re so mad for not once but twice is prime incentive to make fun of you.”

“You’re nothing if not consistent, Say.” Julian said

Saylor smiled, “You have no idea.”

[electricbluebutterflies]

'Trying to get pregnant' for Matthias and Nina 😊

Obviously modern AU, PG13-ish / very implied Content, also on ao3.

Nina does not do things halfway.

Matthias has known this since the moment they met, several years ago now, when it was almost immediately clear how much enthusiasm she has for life and how stubborn she is in her impulsiveness. Her decisions are sudden and thorough, their relationship among them, and sometimes he wonders-

She’s decided she’s ready to settle down and make a more permanent life together, and he has some doubts how that’ll go but he hasn’t had good reason to question her judgement in just long enough to cooperate.

She’d proposed to him, bought her own engagement ring, and her latest idea is that she would like to be a pregnant bride. Just slightly pregnant – the wedding is in four months, and Matthias has some doubts it’ll stay as small as Nina currently thinks it will, and the odds of this whole impregnation thing happening on the first go probably aren’t-

“Are you sure about this?”

He’s asked that question so many times in their bedroom, and he’s not sure that’s normal but… Nina is the first serious lover he’s had, and she’s adventurous, and-

“Are you?” she counters. “I know we’ve talked, but…”

They have, at several points, had the how-do-we-feel-about-having-kids conversation. It’s consistently gone the same direction – he’s a little less positive about it, but if she wants then he’s completely in, and-

“I’m not the one who has to…”

“Yes, but you live with me so you’re going to be in secondhand hormone hell,” Nina laughs. “I do-“

“Yes.”

That’s enough to get her across their space, enough to get her kissing him. He’s doing this for her, he wants to say, because she wants to do all the domestic things and she damn well can’t do them alone and the rest of their friend group isn’t exactly…

Their kid, Matthias thinks, is going to grow up with one hell of an eclectic found family. It will be loved. It will also probably end up becoming a con artist. Somehow this seems like an acceptable trade-off.

“How do we… do this.” Not quite a question, obviously he understands sexual mechanics, but there are complications here and-

“You on top is better,” Nina purrs. “And then I have to lie still afterwards and put a pillow under my ass and-“

“Complicated.”

“Not for you. You just have to fuck me without…”

Doesn’t change anything for him, he’d say if she wasn’t in such a mood. He had full faith in her implant, and there was never an incident, and-

“Alright.”

They’ve been together long enough that it’s all easy and comfortable. Nina usually doesn’t lie still and let things happen to her, but otherwise…

“This okay?” he asks, hovering over her, careful not to put too much weight on her, always so careful and-

“What part of me asking you to do me isn’t registering with you?” Still something playful in her voice, always such warmth, always-

He is going to marry this woman and have children with her and do all the domestic stuff she ever decides she wants, and everything will be okay. He just needs to calm down about it first.

His body shifts into hers, slow and deep, she said nothing about pacing but he is not getting this over with. If the half of the bathroom countertop that has become devoted to fertility-tracking gizmos and trinkets has any accuracy, this could be an encounter that changes both of their lives, and he thinks that ought to be reverent, less aggressive and playful than their physical activities are, more…

“You’re too quiet,” she murmurs, always her only complaint during sex. “What are you thinking?”

“This is important. I want to get it right.”

She runs her fingernails over the back of his head, so aware as always, so-

“Don’t overthink this. We’re already playing with enough superstitions here, babe.”

No questioning, Matthias reminds himself. His fiancé is going to do what she wants. All he can do is follow her lead.

She’s normally tactile after sex – she’s normally tactile all the damn time – but she’s apparently committed to the whole lying-still thing and it feels just a little weird and-

“Think it’ll work?”

“It better,” she mutters. “If it doesn’t, next month we’re doing the turkey-baster technique. Better than boring sex, no offense.”

He does not know what she means by turkey-baster technique. He doesn’t want to know.

If this works…

“I do… want this. With you. I just…”

“We’re like ten years younger than most people who intentionally try to have a kid,” Nina finishes, always more blunt. “And we don’t have our shit together enough. And we’re probably never going to. And we’re getting married in four months and I don’t know if you saw the absinthe cocktail recipes in the group chat but-“

“The what?!”

“Try to guess. So there’s a good chance my former roommate is going to ruin our wedding, and I’m not sure I mind, and…”

“Jes isn’t coordinated enough to ruin anything,” Matthias says, hoping he’s right.

“I’ve known him longer, remember? Watch. But we have to tackle this grenade here and be the shitshow wedding so everyone else’s looks better in comparison whenever the hell those happen and-“

“And you think I’m overthinking.”

“You’re worried about your sperm, I’m not sure our venue has enough emergency exits and for me to be thinking about that…”

Matthias kisses her forehead, figuring that’s safe enough affection right now. “You get through.”

“Yep. We will. And our kid is going to have a fun little life.”

That’s what worries him, but… if she’s so sure, who is he to ever question her?

[mya-valentine]

The Sadistic Sorcerer: Juri's Revenge

Synopsis: Juri Akumu, a formidable sorcerer with a hidden vendetta, is assigned by Gojo to train Itadori Yuji, the vessel for Sukuna. Juri, initially resistant and dismissive, agrees reluctantly, intrigued by the potential to face Sukuna herself. As she trains Itadori, she struggles with her own dark motives while testing his limits.

The weight of her history sat like a storm cloud over her head as Juri Akumu strode through the halls of Jujutsu High. Her sharp eyes, filled with equal parts malice and amusement, surveyed her surroundings. The old mantras of discipline and purpose spouted by the higher-ups were a joke to her. She wasn’t here for their rules or for some noble cause. She was here for herself.

Sadistic Sorcerer, they called her. Successor to Gojo Satoru. What a laugh. The thought alone made her smirk, lips curling upward in a way that spoke of danger and defiance. If they only knew who she really was, the blood that ran through her veins—how many of them would tremble?

They killed her parents, yet those same higher-ups hadn’t the faintest clue that the infamous Juri, who toyed with her enemies like a cat with a mouse, was their child. No, they wouldn’t know, not until she was ready to tear their world apart.

"Another day, another waste of time," she muttered, kicking open the door to the training grounds with enough force to make it fly off its hinges. The few students who were already there flinched but knew better than to say anything. Juri wasn’t in the mood for small talk, and everyone who valued their lives had learned to stay out of her way.

“Juri, ever heard of restraint?” Gojo's voice rang out lazily from the opposite end of the room, where he leaned against the wall, sunglasses in place, arms crossed.

She shot him a sidelong glance, her smirk widening. “What’s the point? The door's still standing. Besides, isn’t restraint your job? I’m just here for the fun."

Gojo chuckled, stepping forward. “Yeah, yeah. Fun. But we both know why you’re really here.”

Juri’s eyes flickered with a glint of something darker, though her expression didn’t change. Gojo was the only one who knew—about her parents, about her plan, about the slow-burning revenge that kept her moving. And for whatever reason, he’d decided to help her, or at least try to.

“I’m here because you need me to play nice with the others,” she retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How long do you think that’ll last, old man?"

"Long enough for you to get what you want," Gojo replied casually, but there was an edge to his words. "I told you, I’m not here to stop you. But if you want to tear them down, you’ll need to be smart. Reckless doesn’t win wars.”

She scoffed, looking away, her arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t need you lecturing me. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Sure, you do,” Gojo said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “But you’ve still gotta cooperate if you want to pull this off. You can’t just kill your way to revenge. Not with these guys.”

Juri’s fingers twitched, her craving for violence always lingering just beneath the surface. Cooperation wasn’t in her nature, but for now, she would tolerate it—him—if it meant getting closer to her goal.

She turned, starting to walk past him. “Don’t pretend you care. You’re just bored. This is a game for you.”

He said nothing at first, just watching her go, his usual carefree demeanor masking whatever thoughts were running through his mind. As she moved to leave, his voice came again, softer but serious.

“I do care, Juri. I care enough to make sure you survive it.”

Juri paused at the door, the weight of his words sinking in. She hated that she needed him—hated even more that, in some twisted way, Gojo understood her better than anyone else ever could.

Without turning back, she chuckled darkly. “Survival’s easy. It’s winning that I’m after.”

And with that, she left him standing there, her footsteps echoing down the hall. She had a mission—revenge was a dish best served cold, but Juri? She’d serve it with a side of carnage.

Juri had barely made it ten paces down the hallway when Gojo’s voice called after her again, his tone far too casual for her liking. "Hey, Juri. Got a favor to ask."

She stopped, one brow twitching with irritation, but she didn’t turn to face him. She hated favors. Favors were just another way for people to waste her time.

"Not interested."

“You haven’t even heard what it is yet,” Gojo replied, and she could hear the grin in his voice.

"I don't need to. I already know it'll be something annoying."

Gojo chuckled but continued, undeterred. “Itadori could use a little training. I want you to help him.”

That was enough to get her to turn around, her eyes narrowing with disbelief. Training Itadori? The kid who Gojo seemed way too invested in? “You’re joking. Why the hell would I waste my time on that brat?”

“I’m not joking,” Gojo said, his tone light but serious. “You two are about the same age. It might do him some good to train with someone who understands what he’s going through.”

Juri barked out a laugh, the sound sharp and mocking. "Oh, yeah? And what exactly do I understand about being a goody two-shoes meat puppet for Sukuna? You want me to babysit him? Not a chance."

Gojo shrugged, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “It’s not about babysitting. It’s about preparation. You help him get stronger, and when the time comes, you’ll be the one who gets to take down Sukuna.”

Her expression shifted slightly, amusement giving way to something more calculating. The thought of facing Sukuna had crossed her mind more than once. A monster like that, lurking inside an idiot like Itadori? That fight would be fun.

But she wasn’t about to give Gojo the satisfaction of thinking he could manipulate her that easily. "Why don't you train him yourself, if he's so important?"

“I do train him,” Gojo answered smoothly. “But you’ve got something I don’t—a brutal edge. No holding back. He needs that. You can push him in ways I can’t.”

Juri folded her arms, considering it. Her mind was already racing with potential scenarios—testing Itadori’s limits, dragging him through the mud until he either broke or got stronger. And the promise of taking down Sukuna...that had her interest. No one would be able to stop her from doing whatever she wanted once she had that demon's head.

“Fine,” she finally said, though her tone was dripping with disinterest. “But if he dies during training, that’s on you.”

Gojo chuckled again, his grin as wide as ever. “Deal. But I think you’ll find he’s harder to break than you think.”

Juri’s eyes narrowed at that, her curiosity piqued. She had no doubt that Gojo was holding something back, but she wasn’t here to play detective. If Itadori was stronger than he looked, then she’d find out soon enough—and if he wasn’t? Well, that was his problem, not hers.

As she turned to leave, Gojo added one last comment, his voice taking on a more thoughtful tone. “You know, you two really aren’t that different. Both of you were thrown into this world without asking for it. Both of you have to carry a weight that no one else can understand. Maybe you’ll see that if you bother to look.”

Juri stopped again, her back still to him, her jaw clenched in frustration. She didn’t need Gojo comparing her to that wide-eyed idiot Itadori. They weren’t the same. She wasn’t some naive kid trying to do the right thing.

She was here for revenge, plain and simple. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Don’t project your savior complex onto me, old man. I don’t care what Itadori’s been through. If he wants to survive, he'll need more than sympathy." Her voice dropped, cold and menacing. "He’ll need to be a killer.”

Gojo tilted his head, watching her walk away. “You say that like you aren’t one yourself.”

She didn't respond, but Gojo's grin only widened as she disappeared from sight. He knew Juri better than she liked to admit. This was going to be interesting. If she could push Itadori to new heights, maybe they’d all get what they wanted.

And when the time came for Juri to face Sukuna... Gojo could only imagine the chaos that would follow.

[boston-babies]

Heart to Heart

A/n: okay so here’s the heart to heart conversation between Ryan and Chris. I cut a lot out because at one point it was just getting way to long but I really hope you guys like it

all the kids stampeded into the kitchen through the back door. They each got quiet as they looked around but only found Chris in the kitchen. Dani spoke up first “where’s mommy?” Chris put a smile on “she’s not feeling to well piglet so she’s laying down” Dani pouted “but the tree lighting is tonight, is she going to be okay to go?” “We’ll see piglet” Ryan scoffed “yeah bet she finally couldn’t stand being around you anymore”

Chris stood “alright Ryan we need to talk.” Ryan shrugged “I actually have nothing to say to you” Ryan walked off and Chris followed him. Ryan made it to the den before Chris grabbed his arm “don’t walk away from me Ryan” Ryan pulled his arm free and snapped “why not? You’re the one walking away from this family!” Chris nodded “alright” he lead Ryan to the couch and sat him down “I appreciate you protecting your mom and your brothers and sister but Ry, you’re taking it too far”

Ryan crossed his arms and shook his head “no I’m not, because I need to protect them from you. You can spin your bullshit to mom but I see right through the act. I see the manipulative, selfish asshole that you really are” Chris looked hurt “is that really what you think of me Ryan?”

Ryan shrugged “I don’t know what else to think now. I use to think you were the best dad in the world. A dad that actually gave a damn about us. When I would hear Kyle and Colin talk about their dads I would feel awful but then think how lucky we were to have you. Yeah I looked up to you and wanted to be like you-“ he thought for a moment “I can look past this hurting me cause honestly I know I’ll get over it eventually. What I can’t get past and what I’ll never forgive? The way you hurt mom”

Ryan’s voice broke “why’d you do it?” Chris sighed “because I was hurt and instead of doing what I should have done, I went the childish, immature route and I didn’t stop to think and I will live with that for the rest of my life”

Chris saw Ryan trying his hardest not to cry “I looked up to you! I would never ever do what you did! I know this is your subconscious way of trying to self sabotage your family because your mad that you and mom met, got married and had me so young.” The dam broke and Ryan couldn’t stop the tears

Chris took a breath and sat next to Ryan “yes we were just starting out when we met in New York. Yes we were really young but the one thing your mom and I were sure of without a shadow of a doubt, was you. Ryan you were and always will be the best thing that happened in our lives.”

Chris took a beat, his heart breaking seeing his son in this much pain “Ryan I don’t ever expect you to forgive me but I would really love the chance to earn your trust back. You’re my son Ryan and I love you more than my own life and that’ll never change” Ryan cried harder and Chris pulled him in to a crushing hug. He put his hand on Ryan’s head “it’s okay Ry, let it out, I got you”

Ryan held on tighter and finally allowed himself to feel all the emotions he’s been suppressing. They stayed like that for a while, until Ryan felt calm enough to let go. He wiped his face and took a deep breath “I just need time to forgive you”

Chris nodded “take all the time you need Ry, I’ll be right here when you’re ready”

[blackleatherjacketz]

Midnight Snack

Thor Odinson x Avenger! Female Reader

Summary: You’ve fought alongside Thor for a while now, but your disdain for his privilege has blinded you to his feelings for you.

Notes: Happy Belated Birthday, @letsby​! You make this look good! This is my first time ever writing Thor, so I hope you like it!

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: 18+ Only! Explicit Smut! Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, Resentment, Arguing, Kissing, Hair Pulling, Nipple Play, Clothes Ripping, Size Difference, Pretty Privilege, Accidental Voyeurism and Tony Stark

The hallways of Stark tower are always a little hazy in the middle of the night, the harsh modern angles of the furniture and artwork blurring into each other as you pad your way to the common area without the comfort of your glasses. You attempt to rub the sleep from your eyes as a yawn brews in your throat, squinting here and there just to make sure that you’ve stumbled down the right path.

You’re normally more prepared for something like this, keeping a bottle of Tylenol in your nightstand, but you’d given the last of your supply to Natasha the night before. That’ll teach you to be overly generous with your secret stash from now on. You turn the corner and head for the small kitchenette, counting the number of footsteps it takes to get to the center cabinet before you notice someone standing in the corner.

“You’re up late.” If the bass in his voice doesn’t give him away immediately, his broad shoulders and staggering height certainly does.

You squint a little harder just to be sure, the pale moonlight pouring in from the plated glass windows of the building acting as your aid. It highlights the strands of golden locks that fall in front of his face as he brings a browned bottle up to his mouth. It accents the blue in his eyes and the muscles rippling around his naked arms and chest as he stands proudly in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. He’d had to have been standing there for a while now.

“You’re… here.” You relax your eyes, wondering if a god like him had to do any actual physical work to achieve such a perfect physique, or if he was just blessed with it like he was everything else in his life. “Are those your pajamas? I thought you’d be halfway to Asgard by now.”

He takes his time to think of a response, drawing a few swigs of beer as he looks you over before bothering to answer. “You sound disappointed.”

“You just don’t usually stay here, is all.” You shrug and open up the cabinet next to him, grabbing a clear drinking glass before running it under the faucet. You and your teammates have fought alongside him half a dozen times before, and you can’t remember a single one where he stayed long enough to debrief, let alone stay the night.

“Stark asked me to stay a few nights, so...” He tips the bottom of the bottle toward the sky, savoring every last drop of alcohol as it hits his lips before pulling it away with an audible pop.

“Did he, now?” You fill your cup up more than halfway, wondering what Stark could have possibly told him to change his mind. Sure, Tony had a gift for talking people into doing things they didn’t really want to do, but that never seemed to have much of an effect on Thor, The God of Thunder. “You actually listened to him for once?”

“What is it?” He sets his empty bottle on the countertop next to him, pushing off with his hips and palms to stand up straight.

“What is what?” You shut off the faucet and turn around to face him, just now realizing that all the divets in his armor were built exactly to scale.

“What’s your problem with me?” His heavy footsteps vibrate the glass bottle next to him, spinning it in a half circle as he walks toward you and the kitchen sink.

“Nothing,” you lie. “I’m just really tired after today, okay? Not all of us…” Surely someone like him couldn’t understand how exhausting a battle could be on the average human body, no matter how much training it’s gone through. “I know that’s a difficult concept for someone like you to grasp, but I actually need to rest to regain my strength.”

“Is that why you won’t talk to me?” He takes the corner of the kitchen island with ease. “Because you talk to Nat, Clint, Banner and Steve just fine. Hell, you even banter with Stark!” His raised voice nearly knocks the beer bottle over onto its side, it’s oscillation now causing a ringing in your ears.

“I’m talking to you right now.” You set your glass of water down in the sink behind you, wondering why he’s so concerned with what you think of him. There are much more powerful and influential people on your team whose opinions should hold more weight: Tony, Steve and Bruce… certainly he’s never had this conversation with either of them in the middle of the night.

“Okay, well then, why won’t you ever look at me?” Thor stops just short of you, all six feet six inches of him towering over you as the tips of his toes barely brush against yours. He’s close enough now that you can smell the sweat beneath his arms and the hint of cologne still lingering on his skin and hair.

It isn’t his fault that something about him always bothered you, always sat beneath your skin like a sheet of uneven scales poking and prodding their way to the surface whenever he entered a room. It isn’t his fault that he reminded you of one of those boys you went to school with over a decade ago, one whose good looks and physical attributes helped pave the way for him while you struggled to barely stay above water. It isn’t his fault that he carried himself that way when he walked, the sheer entitlement pushing his shoulders back or the thunder that barreled his words through his chest, but it sure as hell felt like it.

“And that just kills you, doesn’t it?” You decide to put it all out there for him, hoping that the sooner you get into this argument, the sooner you’ll get out of it. “That I’m the only one who isn’t staring at you all the time, melting all over themselves whenever you flex your muscles?”

“Yes.” He abruptly answers you, all the thunder in his voice fizzling out into a static whisper.

Oh. You weren’t prepared for that answer.

You blink a few times to register what’s happening, pinching the top of your thigh to make sure you’re not dreaming or sleep-walking before interacting with him any further. You wonder if this is purely just an ego thing for him, or if he's actually attracted to you.

“Nat barely talks to you either, I don’t know why…”

“I don’t care for Nat,” he cuts you off, his tone still hushed.

Oh, damn.

“Tell me you haven’t thought about it?” He asks you desperately, touching the strand of hair closest to your face.

You have thought about it, if you’re being completely honest with yourself, at least once or twice. You’re a proud and stubborn person, but you’re not stupid or blind. And although you despise his arrogance and privilege, you continue to remain fully aware of how insanely gorgeous he is. Just being this close to him right now flushes your body with hormones, ones that pump more blood into your lips and cheeks, even those further down between your thighs.

“Of course I have.” You finally admit, the volume of your own voice dropping down to meet his as he plants his feet on the outside of yours.

You let him touch you, let his giant fingers brush through the natural wave of your hair over the delicate skin on your chin and neck. You close your eyes and try to decide what’s more important to you right now: denying him the satisfaction of having you, or allowing yourself the satisfaction of having him. You can feel your heart begin to race as you try to talk yourself out of it, pulling you in the opposite direction as it thuds in your chest; a bright and sudden heat spreading up into your face.

You decide to take a chance and open your eyes, standing on your tiptoes in order to look at him just before his mouth crashes into yours, messy and violent. His stubble scratches your chin as he kisses you, his soft lips a welcome contrast as his hips push against yours, pinning you against the kitchen counter.

His tongue tastes like wild honey, the wheat from the beer balancing the flavor out as his hands grab hold of your thighs, lifting you up off the floor. You wrap your legs around his waist, the thin fabric of your underwear already moistened with your undeniable attraction as he, himself, begins to grow beneath it. You’ve always wondered how big his dick could be with an ego like that, grinning against him at the thought of finding out sooner rather than later.

He carries you over to the island, setting you down more gently than you’d imagined as he continues to kiss you, smoothing his hands up your body until he reaches the hem of your t-shirt. He rips it half as if it were made of tissue paper, the physical evidence of your first Aerosmith concert reduced to a mere memory as it falls backward off your shoulders.

“Hey, I liked that shirt.” You joke as he kisses his way down your jaw and neck, thrusting his clothed erection into your needy center with heavy moans you never dreamed he’d be capable of.

“I’ll get you another,” he sings promises into your skin before cupping your breast in his palm, forcefully guiding your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp as he latches on, rocking your hips into his as he sucks on the tender flesh that’s been neglected for years. You feather your hands over his biceps as he holds you in place, watching the tiny hairs on the backs of his arms stand on end before massaging the muscles in his back and neck. His groans vibrate in his chest as he suckles little bursts of pleasure into your skin, his saliva dripping down his chin onto your thighs as your moisture soaks all the way through onto the polyester of his underwear. You press your fingertips into the base of his scalp, weaving them in between his precious golden locks as he bites down, shooting stars up through your spine.

“We should have done this a long time ago.” You admit, forgetting all the animosity you had built up for him over the years.

You pull his mouth off of you and guide him back up, kissing him in the same pattern down his neck and chest as you move your hands slowly down his body. You can see the outline of his ungodly cock as it stretches the red fabric restricting it while you slide your fingers under the elastic of his waistband to see for yourself.

“About that!” Another man’s voice interrupts you from the hallway, halting your attempt at disrobing your teammate. “So sorry to bother you guys. Actually, I’m not.”

You squint again in his direction, quickly realizing that you’re practically naked in front of whoever it is that’s standing there, unphased by the vulgar display in front of him. “Tony?” You grab the shreds of cotton that used to be your sleep shirt in an attempt to cover yourself up. “What are you…?”

“Stark?” Thor tries to help hold your shirt up over your chest but soon gives up and turns you around so that your back faces Tony.

“Point Break. Shadow.” He smiles, laughing at your nicknames as if they’re his own personal inside jokes as he approaches the two of you with a fifth of whiskey in hand. He points at the both of you individually, his movements slow and fluid as only half of the amber liquid sloshes around inside the bottle.

“I’m actually glad that you two finally decided to ‘hammer’ out your issues the old fashioned way, leave the bickering to me and Rogers, the way it should be.” He smiles and bites his lower lip, quickly glancing behind him. “But unless you want Happy and me watching the rest of… whatever it was the two of you were doing in the common area in the middle of the night with no clothes on,” he points to the security camera in the corner of the room, carefully walking around the island so you don’t have to crane your neck anymore.

“You guys were watching us?” You clamp your arms down around your chest, holding your shirt in place as he changes viewpoints.

“Watching you? We were rooting for you.” He takes another drink. “I’m a big fan of fraternization actually, just ask Pepper how we met. This interaction right here is gonna save me thousands in team building exercise retreats, just you wait. But unless you two want your rendezvous to be the next Pam and Tommy of the night shift, I suggest you take it back to the bedroom.” He winks at you and pats Thor on the back who is still too shocked to actually do anything besides stare blankly back at him. “Good talk. See you guys in the morning!”

[sexcnct]

Setting Fires

~Mafia!Wooyoung x POC!Reader~ Word count: 2.08k Warnings: none

Chapter 7

After showering and getting changed into some decent clothing, he summoned his limo to take us to his house so he could get changed into his regular clothing. I didn’t want to follow him into his house so I decided to stay in the car until he came back, which wasn’t a long wait. I was partially excited about us going on an actual date but I couldn’t help but still feel slightly pissed about what happened in the shower. Once he returned back into the car, he noticed my quiet demeanor and immediately got concerned. 

“What’s wrong, beautiful,” he said, closing the car door as he slide next to me. Maybe if I acted like I was fine, he would finish what he started.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. That wicked smile appeared back on his face, he knew exactly what was wrong and I hated it.

“Aww someone is upset because they didn’t get to cum,” he smirked. I folded my arms, looking out the window as we exited the estate. 

“No,” I huffed. His hand rested on my thigh, teasing me further and fueling my frustration. 

“Mmm, but you are,” he said. “And like I said, brats don’t get to cum.” I shot glares at him. If that’s how he wants to play it then just wait and see what I now plan to do when I’m out with Moni tonight. I smile deviously at my own plan and his confused look only added to my excitement. 

“Looks like you have no intention of learning your lesson,” he sighed. “You’ll see where that’ll get you.” I scoffed, shaking my head. I didn’t believe that there was even a lesson to be learned to begin with and if I were to say that, I knew he’d be pissed. 

The limo dropped us off at a cafe that looked way too expensive for someone like me to be in. From his point of view, he probably thinks he’s too expensive to even be seen in a local Starbucks. He quickly exits the car and walks over to my side where he opens the door for me, extending his hand for me to help myself out the vehicle. He closes the car door behind me before grabbing my hand and walking towards the entrance of the cafe, the strong scent of coffee and sweet pastries hitting me in the face. The place looked beautiful and I wasn’t surprised that Wooyoung would choose this place. We got sat at a table on the balcony upstairs as the weather was pleasant enough to eat outside. As I continued to look unamused, the waiter came up to the table, pouring water into the empty glasses that were already on the table. Wooyoung was staring intently at me, practically studying me as he wasn’t going to let my attitude ruin the date. Or at least what I perceived as a date. Placing the menus down, the waiter disappears and I avoid Wooyoung’s playful gaze. 

“Aren’t you going to figure out what you want to eat?” I rose a brow, my gaze not leaving the laminated menu. 

“I come here often, my order has never changed,” he said, finally looking off into the city. I glance at him for a moment, the warm breeze causing his bangs to brush his forehead. It seemed like something was on his mind and I couldn’t help but feel bad for giving him such attitude. I sigh, setting down my menu and giving him my full attention. He looked back over at me with his soft brown eyes, a small smile playing on his face. 

“Done with your little attitude?” he asked. 

“I was until you mentioned it,” I roll my eyes. “Plus, it wasn’t that important. You seem like something’s on your mind.” He chuckles under his breath, his eyes looking away once again. 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever brought here,” he said. I assumed it was because he hasn’t been on many dates but I wasn’t completely sure. 

“I used to come here with my mom all the time,” he said. “She always told me to come with her whenever she was planning on coming here.” 

“What happened to her?” I mindlessly ask. 

“Cancer,” he coldly said. “It’s how I got into this ‘business’.” 

“What do you mean?” I wonder before catching myself prying. “Actually, you don’t have to talk about it.” 

“No, I want you to know,” he said, taking a sip of his water. “In order to take care of her financially, I started off with stealing expensive jewelry and pawning it. It was even to the point that I would fuck women I met at fancy clubs just to go home with them and steal.” My eyes widened at his last sentence, which he definitely noticed. 

“If you’re wondering if I had stolen anything from you, you can relax cause I haven’t,” he chuckled. “I have no reason to anymore.” 

“I don’t have anything worth stealing anyways,” I sucked in my teeth. 

“You do,” he smirked. I look over at him with a deadpan expression. 

“If you say my heart, I’m going home,” I roll my eyes and smile. 

“Nevermind then,” he sighs teasingly. “But you’re still not wrong.”

“Maybe so but it’s cheesy to say out loud,” I mention. 

“I would love to say I care but I really don’t,” he said. “I’m old-fashioned but I don’t care what others may think about how I feel.” I rose a brow.

“Old-fashioned? I didn’t think still having a mistress around in the midst of getting to know someone was old-fashioned,” I said. His playful demeanor went away as soon as I said that. I felt a little bad that it came off as a little harsh but I couldn’t deny that there was a bit of truth in the joke. As if on cue, a different waitress from earlier had come out onto the balcony and headed towards our table before I could say what I meant. I thought our server was going to be a guy? I shrugged it off as she introduced herself, coming off as a bit talkative especially towards Wooyoung. He ordered himself black coffee while I stuck with a hot tea. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you guys now?” the waitress asked, her back practically towards me. I tried to not let it irritate me. His eyes glanced in my direction, studying me, before shaking his head at the waitress. 

“We’ll be fine for now,” he said. She lightly bowed and quickly walked away. Once he turned his attention back to me, his smirk from earlier returned to his face.

“Oh? Is someone jealous?” he leaned on his elbows. 

“Jealous for what?” I rose a brow. He wasn’t mine so why would I be jealous if another woman was attracted to him? Maybe not jealous, but I’m sure he knew what he was doing when he put on that cologne that smells like he wants everyone to kneel before him. It could’ve been his cologne or his attitude but I couldn’t tell and probably never will.

“You looked uncomfortable when she was over here,” he said, referring to the waitress. 

“Maybe because she was absolutely drooling over you,” I roll my eyes. 

“Ah, so she is jealous,” he smiled. 

“No, I just prefer for people to be professional,” I deadpan. “I mean c’mon, her entire back was towards me as if you speak for me.” He slowly nodded his head, hopefully understanding where I was coming from. She promptly returned, setting the drinks in front of us yet placed my tea closer to Wooyoung than to me as if he had both drinks for himself. I blink, pulling the saucer with the tea cup closer to me as I immediately started to prepare my drink.

“Are we ready to order?” she chirped, still only addressing Wooyoung. It wasn’t that I was jealous, any woman would try talking to someone that looked as good as him, but the disrespect was quite irritating. 

“Yes, we’ll have the assortment of pastries,” he said, giving the menu back to her. She batted her eyes at me before swiftly leaving. All of my concentration goes into preparing my cup of tea the way I preferred, adding the perfect amount of milk and sugar. 

“You’re so focused on your tea, there has to be something else on your mind,” he said, sipping his bitter coffee.

“What can I say, I like my tea to taste a certain way,” I say. “Unlike you, I crave a bit of sweetness in my life.” I gesture to his coffee, making him chuckle at my little joke. 

“I just like black coffee, that shouldn’t exclude me from wanting sweet things in my life,” he says, taking another sip. “Besides, you being in my life should prove that I actually do enjoy the sweeter things in life.” I smile at his words despite how cheesy the sentence was. I nearly catch myself rolling my eyes and I knew for a fact that he noticed. His demeanor slightly changed, his eyes narrowing as he sets down his mug. 

“What do you have planned for the rest of today?” he asked. 

“Monika is forcing me to go out with her tonight,” I say. 

“You don’t sound as though you’re up for it,” he said. 

“It’s not that, I’m just typically a home-body,” I clarify. “I’d rather get drunk in the comfort of my own home instead of at a bar or club.” The waitress returned with a large set of assorted pastries, as Wooyoung ordered. 

“Anything else I can bring for you at the moment, sir?” she chirped.

“That’ll be all, thank you,” he nodded, avoiding her flirtatious gaze. My mouth watered at the tiers of assorted pastries that were placed in between us. Wooyoung noticed this as a smile softly made it’s way onto his face.

“Please, choose first,” he offered. “You look hungry.” 

“Yeah, I guess you could say I haven’t eaten much lately,” I hummed. 

“I suppose getting denied an orgasm could build an appetite,” he chuckled, taking another sip from his coffee. My cheeks flushed a light tint, the possibility of someone hearing him say that fueling my anxiety.

“Shut up,” I huffed, taking one of the cucumber sandwiches from the bottom layer. “You just reminded me and now I’m mad.” 

“All you had to do was listen,” he sighed, taking one of the mini strawberry cheesecakes. I chuckle, contemplating if what I was about to say would make him upset.

“It’s no worries,” I smile. “Maybe someone tonight will finish what you started.” I felt his gaze darken, making me feel a bit nervous but my poker face showed otherwise. 

“You won’t get far in that pursuit,” he rose a brow. “Just because I let you go once doesn’t mean I have the intention of doing it again.” 

“Is that so,” I squint my eyes at him, wanting to test just how far he’s willing to go.

“Besides, you won’t be satisfied with anyone else but me,” he said. He was probably right, but I would never admit it. I hated his cockiness more than anything in this moment.

“Guess we’ll have to see about that,” I said, smugly. 

“That we shall,” he smiles. His demeanor made me wonder what exactly would he would do if what I said happens. Perhaps there’s only one way of finding out.

The night came faster than I anticipated as I spent majority of the day with Wooyoung at brunch. Time seemed to fly by when there’s so much tension in the air, both sexual and non-sexual. It was nearing 10 o’clock, the time Moni stated that she was going to come pick me up. I already dolled myself up, wearing a tight-fitted black dress with some matching heels, not entirely wanting to go all out in my looks. As my phone vibrated, I immediately expected that it was Moni telling me that she was outside but I was surprised to see a text from Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung: Be safe while you’re out but most importantly, be a good girl and I’ll finish what I started this morning :)

I could almost feel my heart beating out of my chest until I heard the sound of Moni’s car horn outside. I quickly took my purse and left the house, hoping that Wooyoung actually meant what he said.

~Taglist~ @racheloveyunho @theaufanartist @yunhoshoe

Author’s note: Thank you guys so much for being patient and still giving love to the series. This chapter shall commence this account from being on hiatus and I’m excited to finish this series and publish the other fics that I have in store for y’all! <3

[stargazer-sims]

Beyond the Broken Parts

Eden: Everything okay?

Haru: Yeah.

Eden: Sorry for invading your privacy, but you were in here a really long time, and you didn't answer when I knocked and called your name. I got worried.

Haru: Sorry about that. I didn't even hear you knocking. I guess I zoned out for a few minutes. It happens sometimes.

Eden: Are you sure you're all right?

Haru: I'm okay. Just a little tired. I figured I'd take my medication while I was in here, so I wouldn't forget before bed. You know, 'cause my routine is different with you here. But then, uh... I kinda forgot what I was doing anyway.

Eden: I didn't know you have to take medication.

Haru: It's for my brain.

Eden: I shouldn't want to laugh at that, but...

Haru: Yeah... that came out wrong. Remember, I explained how I have problems because of all the alcohol and drugs and stuff my mother was using?

Eden: I remember.

Haru: I need something to regulate all my brain chemicals and calm me down. Otherwise, I'd be so hyper that I'd probably be flying off the walls, and I wouldn't be able to think or focus long enough to have an intelligent conversation or learn anything. Or even basically take care of myself, I guess.

Eden: I'm sorry.

Haru: You shouldn't be. This is my everyday life. It's not a bad thing. It's just... you know. A thing. It's not something I really talk about with anyone, but it's always been a part of who I am.

Eden: I won't tell anybody.

Haru: I appreciate that. It's not something I'd want the whole world to know.

Eden: That's totally understandable. Your friends know, though, right?

Haru: They all know I take medication, but only Ryu and Taiji know exactly what it's for. Keigo might know too, but not from me telling him. I'd never tell him or Senjirō, unless I absolutely had to. I only tell my private stuff to people I trust.

Eden: Are you saying you trust me? Even though we've only known each other for a short time? You've known those guys for like, five or six years, haven’t you?

Haru: About five years, yeah. Sometimes, the longer you know somebody, the less you trust them, though. I mean, I trust Keigo to a point. Like, he's a good person and he'd never intentionally hurt anyone, and I like him, but I'm just not comfortable sharing some stuff with him.

Eden: And Senjirō?

Haru: I think we can say we're friends, but not great friends. He doesn’t take me seriously, and we have too many differences to be really close. And to answer your other question, yes I trust you.

Eden: Thank you. That means a lot.

Haru: You already mean a lot to me.

Eden: Same. I honestly didn't know it was possible to fall for somebody this fast, but I'm glad to be discovering it with you.

Haru: Me too.

Eden: If you're really tired, maybe we should go to bed now. There's no reason to stay up any later, especially if you need to rest your brain.

Haru: My brain could use some rest. The problem is, I’m tired but I’m not sleepy, if that makes sense.

Eden: It does. If you’re not sleepy, we can cuddle in bed. That’ll be easy on your brain.

Haru: I like this plan.

Eden: Good, because I really want to cuddle with you.

Haru: Shirtless?

Eden: Apparently, skin-to-skin contact is very therapeutic.

Haru: You think it works on brains, too?

Eden: *smiling* There’s only one way to find out. We can get a good night’s rest, and maybe you’ll feel better in the morning

Haru: I usually feel great in the mornings. It’s once the day gets going that it sometimes goes all to hell. I don't know why changes in my routine are so hard, but whenever there's the smallest difference, it's like I'm using up three times as much energy just to deal with simple, normal things.

Eden: That must make travelling and being on tour really difficult and stressful for you.

Haru: Yeah, but it's worth it. I always get really energized from the audience. I might have to sleep for most of the next day, or the day after if we have back-to-back shows, but I'm totally willing to do it for that big crowd energy.

Eden: I wish there was something I could do to help you. To make everything better somehow.

Haru: You know what? You're already doing it.

Eden: How? What am I doing?

Haru: Supporting me. Taking me seriously. Being somebody who knows I'm broken and who sees past the broken pieces.

Eden: Haru—

Haru: What?

Eden: You're so much more than your 'broken pieces' as you call them. Maybe you've got issues most people don't have, and like you said, it's part of who you are, but you're a whole person with a million different parts. An amazing person with a million amazing parts. That's what I see.

Haru: How'd you get to be so beautiful? On the inside as well as the outside, I mean.

Eden: I credit my mother, mostly. She says acceptance is the most important thing when it comes to other people. Like, everybody matters, without having to qualify it.

Haru: I think I already like your mother.

Eden: When you feel ready for it, we can FaceTime with her and my dad, and I'll introduce you. I think Mommy will really like you, too.

[angel-0f-verdun]

3 Joy of the Unknown

Previous Chapter

I packed my bag before getting out of my flight suit, making sure I had all my uniforms nicely folded so they wouldn’t get crumpled on the journey. The excitement was still rich in my bones, I smiled to myself as I opened a granola bar and started munching away. I finished packing the majority of my life into one bag, I looked at it sadly wishing I had more. I stayed awake as long as I could because I needed to get back onto a normal dayshift schedule for the academy. Switching like this was brutal and felt like torture it was not a good day for anyone near us because we were so cranky from the lack of sleep. It was a hell that I didn’t wish anyone to go through alone. Therefore, it was a good thing Maverick would have Goose with him and vice versa. They really did compliment each other, just as Crystal did for me. That’s what made a great RIO, and in our circles when you found someone great you stuck with them because there was no need to forge any other relationships, especially between a pilot and RIO. It applies within personal relationships too, but that is something yet to be seen from the pilot aspect of our lives. Most of them were sluts that just wanted to get off on anything that walked, particularly these self-centered asses.

I sighed, throwing my wrapper in the trashcan near my bed. I undressed, showered, and got into some sleeping clothes which generally just consisted of a t-shirt and underwear. I went into the attached bathroom and brushed my teeth, once I was finished with that, I peeled back the covers on my bed and crawled in feeling the cool sheets on my skin. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my book. I started reading happily, I was always a sucker for a romance book. The newest one I had picked up was called Playing the Odds. I started reading and before I knew it sleep over took me.

I groaned as I heard banging on the side of the ship. I rolled over towards the other side of my bed putting the pillow over my head to block it out. I safely lulled back to sleep, hearing doors opening and closing, along with other noises on this ship were common so I didn’t think anything of it. That’s before I heard his voice.

“Maeve” He whispered, I could feel the heat of his breath on my face. I shot up from my lying position my eyes looking everywhere trying to find the person who was in my room. When I looked to my right I found the assailant, Maverick. I stopped myself from attacking and relaxed in bed rubbing my eyes.

“God Maverick. Why’re you here? Why didn’t you send in Crystal?” I asked him looking at his face as he knelt down on the floor beside me.

“Well, we figured we would wake you two at the same time, Goose is getting her up and at ‘em. So my unlucky choice was you.” He sarcastically said.

“Haha, very funny Mav.” I chuckled dryly. Feeling my shitty mood set in almost immediately. I wanted to sleep more but I knew with him here that would be impossible. The man was basically a giant toddler, with lots of energy, and always got what he wanted.

“We’re taking a helicopter out, we tried to let you sleep as long as we could. I’m sorry Maeve, I know these shifts are hell for you guys. But think on the bright side, we get to be in the Top Gun program.” He said, I scoffed and he smiled at my reaction. I noticed he had showered, shaved, and changed into his tans. I covered my face with my hands brushing the hair away from my face.

“All right, how much time do we have?” I asked him.

“Enough to finish if we start now…” He raised his eyebrows at me, flirtatiously. I shoved his shoulder, yeah like that’ll ever happen. I cleared my throat and looked at my bag, my tan uniform was in there. I would have to cross the room to get to it. I really did not want to move but I figured I’d make a show out of it since he just made that comment. I pushed the covers off my form and crawled my way towards the end of the edge of the bed going slowly to give him something to look at. I stepped off the bed and walked over to my bag, looking back to Maverick his jaw was slack and he was staring intensely at me. I smiled at his reaction putting the pants on and giggling. I turned towards the door where he couldn’t see me and took off my shirt.

“What’s that?” He asked walking up behind me as I finished putting on my bra.

“It’s a tattoo, Mav, haven’t you ever seen one?” I let out a false chuckle.

“No, not that… This.” He touched the scar that the tattoo was hiding. His fingertips were soft and he lightly rubbed it. I enjoyed the feeling, tilting my head back and closing my eyes.

“That is secret knowledge, that is in my file. Not on display for you.” I told him softly, opening my eyes and grabbing a white undershirt. He pulled away walking towards the bed, knowing that I would not give that information away lightly.

I took my tan uniform shirt out of the closet, buttoned it up, and tucked it in. I then searched my bag for my belt found it and put it on. The last thing was my boots, I put them on and laced them up not bothering to blouse them as it wasn’t required with the tans. Maverick had wandered around while I was dressing, I tried not to pay any attention to him.

“What’s this book?” He asked I froze while I was putting my hair up in a bun.

“It’s just a book,” I said becoming a bit embarrassed. I knew he would pick up on my tone of voice, but he chose to ignore it. Thank god. I finished my hair turning towards him I saw him starting to read the book, I didn’t think I could get any more mortified.

“Oh, I see what this is, it’s porn.” He muttered smiling and looking up from the book to me.

“Oh my god, Maverick. It is not.” I snapped at him grabbing the book out of his hands and throwing it into my duffle bag. He got off my bed and walked over to the door where I was now standing with my duffle bag slug over my shoulder.

“All right, all right, don’t jump down my throat. Here, let me take that.” He said to me straightening his uniform and taking the duffle from my shoulder. He opened my door for me like a gentleman and we made our way to the tarmac to find our ride off this ship. At least I could sleep on the ride to Miramar. I looked around when we got down there, I realized suddenly that I was missing my flight helmet and bag.

“Oh shit Mav, I forgot my…” I trailed off as he pointed towards the interior of the helicopter where my flight bag and my flight helmet were, I loved that helmet dearly. It really was beautiful it was mainly black with its accents being grey, and in red letters with a grim reaper graphic was my name ‘Reaper’.

“I already put those in the helicopter.” He said to me, his lips close to my ear, as he brushed past me and walked up to the open passenger door of the helicopter and put my duffle bag near my other belongings. I smiled softly looking after him as I waited for Crystal and Goose. I looked around the tarmac joyfully looking at my plane. I wished she could come with me. But I knew she would be delivered to me soon enough. We wouldn’t start flying for a couple of days to guarantee that we had everything transported. By the time I was finished with my daydream Goose and Crystal arrived, he held her bag for her as well and placed it inside and waved us over to get in.

“We’ll take off in 15 minutes.” The pilot said to us walking up to the helicopter.

“Maverick and I already got your flight bags and helmets.” Goose told Crystal quietly so as not to bother her too much. She most likely had a splitting headache, that’s what happened when we woke up too early half of the time.

“Thank you.” She told him, using his hand as support to step into the seats. I happily did the same and sat across from her, Maverick got in after me and quickly took his seat next to me. Goose then entered and sat next to Crystal. I knew that nothing was going on between them as Goose was married, he had a son, Bradley, with his wife and she was a pistol. I’m sure if she caught him out galivanting she would chop his dick off and feed it to him. They were good friends though. The pilot came around and shut our doors, I shut my eyes leaning my head against the back cushion. When the engine started it was the familiar lull that put me to sleep. I could feel my head sink to the side and knew that this would be a wonderful nap.

I woke up to a soft landing, I stretched out my legs. I realized my head was lying on something soft. I picked up my head and looked at where I was, Maverick had gotten a pillow out and shoved it underneath my head which was lying on his shoulder.

“Oh I’m sorry Mav, I didn’t mean to occupy your space,” I told him bashfully, a bit embarrassed that our RIOs were now witnesses to this.

“Don’t even think about it. You can fall asleep on me anytime.” He smiled at me gleefully amused with the situation. I put my elbows on my knees rubbing my face with my hands. I was still insanely tired but knew that soon we would have to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the briefing. I sighed as the door was opened to the helicopter and we filed out with all our stuff with us. I looked around, the Naval base, it was bustling with activity. As I wasn’t entirely sure where we were going I followed Maverick and Goose through the sea of people that were trying to get from point A to point B. I was looking around the base when someone smashed into my shoulder causing me to drop my flight bag and helmet, with some of my charts falling out of my bag.

“Ah, shit, watch it!” I yelled to them, focusing on my papers that were getting away from me.

“I’m sorry ma’am, I wasn’t watching where I was going, Normally I’m very good at situational awareness.” I heard the man’s voice, when I looked up, into ice-cold blue eyes. The man had blonde hair that had been spiked up, his physique reminded me that he was a pilot.

“It’s all right,” I said as I picked up my flight helmet, bag, and duffle.

“Are you carrying those for your pilot?” He asked me I gave him a glare. Ugh, I could practically see the ego dripping off him.

“Yeah, are you here for Top Gun? Are you a pilot?” I asked him, putting on a fake smile and acting like the dumb little girl that he saw me as.

“Yeah, I am, the name’s Iceman.” I fanned myself as if the heat was getting to me, a couple of pieces of my hair had fallen from the hit. I nodded and watched his smile spread across his face as he watched me.

“And your pilot’s name is Reaper? That’s badass. Where is he? I’d love to meet him.” He said, looking around and spotting Maverick and Goose who were smirking at him. I laughed a bit keeping the punchline to myself. I decided to wait until introductions in class to tell him that I was not a RIO or personal secretary.

“Yeah, but you know I don’t see him anymore… Must’ve gone ahead without me, as always.” I spoke.

“Well here, let me walk you there.” He said as I followed him in the direction Maverick and Goose were headed. They watched me a bit confused as to why I hadn’t corrected him. I just waved them off and followed Iceman to the building we were supposed to be in.

“Thank you for walking me. I’m sure I would’ve gotten lost with all these people.” I said as I pushed my hair behind my ears, making sure it was clean looking for the Lieutenant that would be doing the briefing.

“No problem,” he spoke. Doe walked in and sat next to where I was, I noticed Iceman give a confused look and walk away towards his RIO. Maverick and Goose walked in and sat in the chairs next to us.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Doe asked.

“Because now I can embarrass him even more,” I told her as the Lieutenant walked in closing the door.

“Good Afternoon everyone, I appreciate the devotion to attendance. First, I would like to introduce myself I am Lieutenant Green, and I’ll be starting off with a quick video introducing the importance of what you all will be doing here. But before we start that let’s go around the room for introductions. Start with your call sign and then your real name, we all need to know each other and get comfortable. Pilot first, RIO next.” I smiled this would be perfect.

“Iceman, Tom Kazansky” The frosted tips on his hair, he smiled as he chewed on some gum looking around at his competition.  

“Slider, Ron Kerner” I smiled, they gave him a dumb call sign.

“Chipper, Charles Piper” The next one was worse. He was actually fairly cute and reminded me of Maverick a bit with his facial features. If I didn’t know any better I’d say they were brothers.

“Sundown, Marcus Williams” It wasn’t a bad call sign they were getting better with them.

“Hollywood, Rick Neven” I could see why they called him Hollywood, he had a certain movie actor aura going on. I would’ve cast him in an old Western movie.

“Wolfman, Henry Wolfe” It was simple, his last name influenced his call sign.  

“Maverick, Pete Mitchell” Easy, Maverick was, well Maverick, he was known for his inability to follow the rules.

“Goose, Nick Bradshaw” No one really knew how Goose got this nickname, but my theory was because he had a fiery side to him. It was rarely ever seen because he was so level-headed, unlike his pilot.

“Reaper, Maeve Ford” I spoke up finally. I watched Iceman’s expression shift into one of intrigue and awe. He paused chewing on his gum and stared, probably thinking since when did they let women in here?

“Doe, Crystal Harris,” My RIO said, I happily gave her a pat on the shoulder. This was going to be fun, knocking these boys around and refuting the stereotype that women belonged in a kitchen or office. I looked forward to the competition and challenges we would face here. I relaxed in my seat for the movie that was about to be shown to us happily basking in the joy of the unknown.

Next Chapter

[cable-knit-sweater]

Hi Maya!!!! How are you? 🧡

For the Spotify wrapped game, 13 + Stucky? 🥰

Hi honey!! 💛💛 I’m good, having a wonderful day so far 🥰 I hope you’re having a great day too!!

#13 is:

And it felt impossible to pick a lyric, because about 80% of this song could work for stucky 🥺💖 but I went with these:

When you wake // I'll be right there, baby // And when you shake // I'll be shaking with you, honey // And when you get tired of this town // Let me know, we can go somewhere brand new // 'Cause when I lay my head to rest // I hope that it's always next to you

And I really didn’t expect it to get this long lol but I hope you enjoy!! 💕

They’re both so tired.

They’ve both been having nightmares, keeping them up at night. Steve doesn’t even want to imagine what horrors Bucky dreams about - the way he wakes up screaming, shouting or making hurt noises that make Steve’s heart clench painfully, are enough for him to know they can’t go on like this.

Bucky hasn’t been talking about what’s happening. There was a moment there, in Wakanda, when he seemed to be okay, lighter. But maybe a week after they stepped foot back in New York, things changed. Bucky refuses to tell Steve what’s going on, doesn’t speak when he wakes up hoarse and drenched in sweat.

Steve knows it can’t be easy - he has his own demons haunting him at night - but he feels helpless. Like he should be able to do more than just hold Bucky tight on a night that happens, do more than staying up with him until he feels calmer, safer. He just isn’t sure what that is.

It’s about 6 months into this, when they’re both exhausted - because of lack of sleep and mentally - that Bucky seems ready to talk. But what he’s saying…Steve doesn’t want to hear it.

“I think it’s better if I leave,” he says one morning, the two of them blearily drinking coffee in their kitchen, even if it does nothing for them. Steve blinks.

“Leave?” He says, not fully awake to process the meaning of what Bucky’s saying.

“You look like you haven’t slept for weeks, you never go out anymore, and I know it’s because of me Stevie. So I think it’s better if I leave.” His voice is calm, face stubborn. Steve instantly feels more awake when he finally understands what he’s saying.

“No. No Bucky, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to blame yourself,” he says, angrily - more so with the situation than his boyfriend, angry with himself when he sees how Bucky flinches. He sighs, voice much softer when he speaks again. “I don’t think it’s better if you leave at all. Do you really think that’ll make me sleep better Buck?”

Bucky just shrugs. “Maybe.”

Steve stares at him, can feels his eyes start to burn thinking about what he has to say. “I- if you really want to leave I can’t stop you. I won’t stop you.” He reaches over the kitchen island, grabbing Bucky’s hand. “But can we talk about it first? Promise me you won’t just leave,” he asks, begs.

Bucky squeezes his hand, eyes a little wet. “Promise,” he croaks.

It takes another week for Bucky to talk to him about it. In the meantime, they dance around it. Steve hates it. When will they get a fucking break?

They’re on the couch one evening, a movie playing neither of them is paying much attention to. “I don’t think being here is good for me,” Bucky says suddenly.

“Here? Here as in…” Please god let him not say he means with Steve. He doesn’t think he can survive that. He feels guilty enough as it is that he can’t do anything to make things easier for Bucky.

“I think being in the city…” Steve lets out a rush of breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, “I thought it was a good idea, to go home, go back to normal. But what’s normal even for the two of us right now?”

Steve doesn’t have answer to that, so he says nothing.

“I think…being in Wakanda was good for me,” Bucky says.

“You wanna go back?” Steve asks. He’ll get them on a flight tomorrow, tonight, if that’s what Bucky wants, needs.

“I- I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a magical cure to everything but…the peace and quiet…maybe it’s…” Bucky trails off.

“Yeah, I think I get what you mean,” Steve says, thinking. Bucky turns back to the tv, conversation apparently over.

When they go to bed later that night, Steve sends out a couple of texts before turning off the lights.

It takes another week for everything to be done. They wake up on a Saturday morning, early, after a night full of interrupted sleep. Steve waits until they’re having breakfast to tell him.

“I- I probably should’ve asked you about this earlier,” he says a little sheepishly. Sometimes he’s such an idiot. He got caught up in his plans for them so much he didn’t even ask Bucky first.

Bucky frowns at him, shaking his head. “What did you do?”

“I- well, you don’t have to say yes. But if you want to…” he trails off, opening his texts with Tony to show Bucky what he’s been working on. “Sam can be here in an hour to help us pack. If you want.”

Bucky stares at Steve’s phone for a while, and when he looks up, there are tears in his eyes but a smile on his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I want to.”

Steve smiles back, probably a little too long. He’s just so relieved. “Yeah,” he says, “yeah, okay, I’ll text Sam.”

They’re on the road, most of their belongings packed in the van Sam rented. They’re not taking any furniture, the place comes furnished - thanks to Pepper, who calmly listened to whatever Steve rambled about wanting, who just said she’d get it done, and did - and they’re not too attached to most of the things they have.

It’s not too long of a drive to upstate New York. Before they know it, the bustling city and traffic make way for quieter roads and small towns, until they leave even those behind them, and there’s mostly forrest and farmland.

When they pull up to the house, Steve doesn’t even notice, eyes on Bucky to gauge his reaction. Bucky doesn’t say anything, just looks out the front window of the van, mouth gaping open. “This it?” He finally asks, quietly.

“Yeah Buck. It’s ours, for as long as you want.”

Bucky nods. They sit there for a little while, in silence. “Okay.”

They get out of the van, leaving their things in it for the moment, while they go explore. It’s a renovated farmhouse, with a small piece of land attached, surrounded by forrest. The only sounds are those of the nature around them. It’s not Wakanda, but it’s peaceful. It’s quiet, and it’s theirs, and it could be home.

They walk through the house, going from room to room, Steve following Bucky around, holding his breath a little. When they’re back in the living room, Bucky turns to face him.

He’s smiling. “I- I love it.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, unable to keep the relief out of his voice.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, pulling Steve in for a hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs into Steve’s neck. They stay like that for who knows how long, just holding each other tight, before they make their way back to the van to bring their boxes and suitcases in.

They pack away half of their things that same day, and by the time they have dinner the place feels even more like theirs. When they fall asleep that night, both tired of the move, it’s one of the easier nights they’ve had in a while.

It doesn’t magically change everything. But going away was the right move. A fresh start. He can feel things change. He can see Bucky opening up more, slowly making his way to being ready to talk about the things that haunt him. He can see how the both of them are more at ease, here, just them. Just them, and eventually, cats and dogs and chickens and goats.

Bucky starts to go to therapy - over zoom. They settle into a new life, a new home, taking care of their animals, learning new hobbies, relearning about themselves and each other.

It’s six months later. Steve’s just coming inside from locking up the animals for the night, kicking off his boots in the mud room and hanging up his coat. He hears sounds from the kitchen, the tap turning off as Bucky finishes doing the dishes from their dinner. He goes to him, wrapping his arms around Bucky and pressing his chest to Bucky’s back, his head in the crook of his neck. He can feel Bucky smile against him.

Eventually, they let go, going to the couch to watch a movie. They’ve found a couple of new favorites they often rewatch - a lot of them animated movies or set in space - but they try something new all the time, and tonight, Bucky puts on a romcom and they curl up together on the couch. Steve misses half of it, too busy staring at Bucky, who’s completely hooked on the story, laughing and cringing and giving running commentary.

He just looks at Bucky, at how beautiful his face looks when he laughs, thinking about how in awe he is of him, his strength, his ability to feel and express so much joy after all they’ve been through. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy, this at peace. He thinks it’s probably true for the both of them.

When the movie finishes, they get ready for bed. Maybe Steve is as much of a sap as Bucky accuses him to be sometimes, feeling a rush of emotion come over him when the realization sets in that this is their life now, while they’re brushing their teeth side by side. Working on the farm, cooking, drawing, reading, dancing, watching movies. Just all the domestic things he never thought they’d have, not like this, not as peacefully or as joyfully as it’s been in recent weeks.

They’re both a little tired. The good kind, the one after a long but satisfying day.

They fall asleep easily, that night, every night - heads on the same pillow, completely intertwined.

[austinsmutler]

ElvisTown | Part 2 | Austin!Elvis x Fem!OC

Summary: Elvis is a poor waiter working in a cafe that sits right beside the road to Hell (AKA Vegas). He lives in a world of eternal winter, craving the warmth and music of summertime. Everything changes when a woman stumbles in from the cold and captures Elvis’ heart.

Of course, this is basically Hadestown, but with Elvis.

Pt 1 Recap: Elvis (a poor waiter working in a bar beside the road to hell, AKA Vegas) meets Marie and is instantly smitten. I'm talking big-time puppy love, you'd think this man never saw a woman before. He sings a song so beautiful a flower sprouts between the two of them, which is a surefire way to catch any woman's attention.

Pairing: Austin!Elvis x Female OC (You can picture real Elvis if you want)

What you’ll like: Fluff, slow burn, music, if you like Hadestown I hope you like this, Elvis being a total softie for the reader, eventual smut, cosmic written-in-the-stars-type love

Warnings: Mild mention of sexual themes

Word Count: 1,847

Requests are currently open (Please tell me everything you want!)

Marie had struck a match and lit a flame in Elvis’ heart. The wind outside might have screamed in protest, but inside the Presley cafe & bar, over two warm mugs of coffee, something bloomed between the two of them. 

“How did you do that?” Marie asked, twirling the flower between her fingers. 

“I don’t know.” Elvis shrugged. “The song’s not finished though.”

“And it can already do this…” She murmured, half to herself.

“Like I said, I want to write something that’ll bring the world back into tune.” 

It was a big statement, but the way he said it was so earnest, she could tell he meant it without a trace of ego. The flower in Marie’s hands was enough proof that he had real power- even if he didn’t understand it yet himself.

“What’s it like out there?” 

“You’ve never been?” She raised an eyebrow at his question.

Elvis shook his head. 

“Fires in the West, monsoons in the South. Droughts in the East, and, if I had to guess, it’s been winter up here for as long as anyone can remember. Am I right?”

He nodded. “You’ve sure been a lot of places.”

“Working, mostly. I go anywhere the wind blows, but people are struggling everywhere.” She looked into the darkness of her coffee, which was already beginning to cool. It’s too cold up here. “It’s like the weather follows me.”

Elvis stared at her, expression unreadable, eyes dark. 

“You’ve been alone everywhere?”

The way he asked caught her off-guard. Everywhere Marie went, people were the same: hardened by the constant wind, loath to ask questions, and ready to take advantage of anything- or anyone- who gave them the opportunity. She’d been alone almost as long as she could remember, and no-one had ever asked her how or why. 

“My family are around.” She lied. “Some stayed in the East, some down South. I didn’t like the fire or the monsoons, so I guess I just kept walking.”

It was half-true. Marie tried not to think of the last time she’d seen her family- her mother’s face screaming, surrounded by forest-fire. Losing grip of her brother’s hand as he fought the current of a monsoon. She closed her eyes and pretended to enjoy the dwindling heat of her coffee.

Elvis seemed to accept her answer, nodding to himself.

“I’m sorry you’ve been alone.”

“Why do you care?” 

He sat across from her in the booth, hands on his half of the table. Legs keeping their distance from hers. When he’d sat down, their knees brushed, and he apologised as if he’d meant nothing by it.

“I’ve been working here as long as I can remember.” He half-smiled. “Been keepin’ my Momma company my whole life. I can’t imagine what it’s like out there, much less alone.”

Then he saw her mug was half-empty, and refilled it with warm liquid from the pot. It was just warm enough to seep through the ceramic and warm her hands, and she nodded in thanks.

Marie’s gaze flickered around the bar, which was empty. Gladys had long since finished closing up and gone upstairs to bed, the lights dark in the kitchen. The only light in the dining area came from the few candles they’d lit on their table, which made everything seem warmer than it really was.

Elvis could hardly look away from her, except to stare at his own hardly-touched coffee. He was shaky enough just from meeting her, from performing that song and- somehow- sprouting that flower between them. It lay on the table now, and both their eyes found it at the same time, before looking up to meet each other.

The silence made the building snowstorm outside seem even louder, as if the wind would bowl over the building at any moment.

“Do you have somewhere to stay for the night?” Elvis asked.

“I’ll find somewhere.”

“Our inn is fully booked upstairs, but…” Elvis couldn’t think of how to say it without sounding sleazy. “You could have my bed, if you like.”

There it is, thought Marie. That’s what he wants. This was something she knew- he’d done something nice for her, and now he’d have what he wanted in return. She could go outside and try to find somewhere else out of the storm, but that was certain death. Marie may have lived a hard life, but she was a survivor. She’d survive this night. At least this man had kind eyes and a nice smile; those things made the transaction easier.

“You’re too kind.” She forced a smile to her face and gulped down the rest of her coffee, taking strength from the last of its warmth.

“I can’t exactly let you go out in that.” There was that lopsided grin again. “My Momma won’t mind you stayin’.”

“Hmm.” She let Elvis lead her upstairs, following that warm smile.

…

His room was minimalist, to put it nicely. A single cot, desk and chair, and drawers that held a few spare clothes. Once he lay his guitar on the desk, that was it: everything Elvis owned was in one place.

“I can sleep in one of the booths downstairs, if you like, but I’ll have to come up in the morning before my shift starts.”

Marie turned to look at him like he’d grown a second head. “You what?”

“I’ll just need a clean shirt before my next shift. Momma likes us to look neat every day, you know? Good for customers.”

“No- I mean-” Whatever Marie wanted to ask, she was having trouble finding the words. “You don’t want me to… do something? I should say thanks for the coffee and the bed, right?”

Elvis was naive, but it dawned on him what she meant. His heart jumped to his throat and the blood half-rushed from his legs. 

“I- um,” Elvis gulped and tried to get the sudden intrusive pictures out of his head; he wasn’t that type of man. “You just said thanks. No need for anything else, ma’am.”

“Marie.”

“Marie.” He smiled. Such a pretty name. “Do you mind if I stay up here, just for a bit? I won’t try nothin’, I swear.”

“Whatever you want.” Marie sat on the bed, and he took a seat beside her, just close enough that their elbows brushed. She didn’t move away, just looked around the room until her eyes found the skylight above the bed. 

The storm was calming now, and it was just possible to make out a few stars in the sky. 

“Don’t they just pull you in, like gravity?” Elvis asked, following her gaze. “I love lookin’ up there.”

“They’re pretty enough.” Marie shrugged. “My mother used to say the whole world is written up there. Past, present and future.”

“I don’t need no stars for that.” Elvis said, surprising himself as much as her. “They’re pretty to look at, but I think you can find everything you really need to know down here.”

“I dunno, I think it’s easier to believe everything’s already sorted out up there. Makes all the chaos down here seem so small.”

Slowly, with all the caution of a man stepping onto the centre of a frozen lake, Elvis found her hand on the bed and covered it with his. Marie’s expression didn’t change, staying unreadable. 

“For me, that’s music.” He murmured, looking away from the skylight. “Everything makes sense with the right song.”

“That figures.” Marie chuckled, “If my voice could thaw the winter and bring flowers to life, I’d probably think the same.”

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“I haven’t sang in a long time.”

“You sang earlier, when that flower popped up.”

“That was just…” She shook her head and studied the floor. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Would you…” Elvis gulped. “Would you sing for me again?”

Marie looked at him from the corner of her eyes. Elvis prepared to shrug off the request and swallow the need at the back of his throat- he wanted to hear her again so badly he was choking up. How was that possible? 

He was about to apologise and make a speedy exit when she opened her mouth and sang in that same clear voice, a song he didn’t recognise:

“Daddy, he was a travellin’ man,

I hardly knew his face

Momma, she cried for him at night

He never stayed in one place.”

He couldn’t help but wonder where the song was from, or if Marie had written it herself. Her voice was beautiful, but sad too, like she was reliving something that had happened far away and long ago, leaving wounds in its wake.

“'Cause the north wind flows through my veins,

Like my dad, there's a dream in my brain

In the morning I'll have to leave again;

That's how it is when you inherit the wind.”

She wouldn’t look at him, just stared back up at the stars and took a deep breath. Her hand squeezed his before starting the final verse:

“I can't give you the love you need,

I just won't be here that long

But if you still want me here tonight

I'll love you till the break of dawn.”

Her voice trailed off, and Elvis could have sworn her cheeks were flushed in the moonlight when she finally turned to look at him.

“That was beautiful.” He breathed. 

“It’s a lie.” Marie shrugged. “You can’t love someone for just a night. Not really.”

“It’s not a lie, it’s… poetry.” 

“How many mouths can a poem feed?”

“There’s more to it than that.” Elvis insisted, turning so he had one knee on the bed, facing her more fully. “Music is the one thing that carries on, no matter what the weather’s like, if there’s food on the table, or if anyone else is around. And if you get it just right, you get this.”

He produced the flower from earlier- that she’d left on the table- from his pocket. It was a little worse for wear, but still a vibrant red. She took it back from him and placed it on the bedside table. 

“Are you always so passionate?”

“When I look at you, I am.” He expected her to scowl at that, but instead she tilted her head to one side, seeming to decide something. 

“What do you see when you look at me?”

“Someone who survives. Someone stronger than anyone I’ve known.”

Marie didn’t say anything, just kicked off her boots and lay back on the cot, staring into the distance. Elvis stood up to leave, but her hand on his arm made him pause.

“Stay. Just for a while, okay?”

He nodded and lay beside her, their fingers entwining between them. It wasn’t until he heard the rhythm of her breathing even out that he realised she was asleep, and he thought about sneaking downstairs to one of the booths, but her fingers tightened around his when he tried to move. So, Elvis pulled the blanket up around both of them, closed his eyes, and let sleep swallow him.