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astermath · 11 months

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sweet like you🍓pt. 2

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen helps you out with perfecting your pastries to present them to your boss. you spend time getting to know each other in the place he knows best; the kitchen. things take a slight turn when you get back to your apartment.

word count: 3.1K

PART 1

notes: I really enjoy writing carmen tbh, I guess writing him is my way to giving his character some peace outside of his usually extremely stressful life. this got suuuper long im so sorry sdfgshj i got kinda carried away. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content!

warnings: mentions of suicide/death, addiction, use of alcohol, cursing

Carmen hated nights.

At least during the day, he was forced to do things, be productive, talk to people, keep his mind occupied. But at night, it was just him. Alone with his thoughts. The only thing keeping him company his cynical mind and deranged dreams.

That night was no different.

Carmen woke up in a cold sweat, hand clutching at his chest as he sat up. He nearly gasped for air, and upon noticing how shaky he was, got up to splash his face with cold water. That didn’t help much either, so he went to his balcony (if one could even call it that), and lit a cigarette. The sun was already coming up, and he knew he wasn’t getting much sleep again feeling like this.

He sighed, smoke emitting from his nose as he pulled out his phone. You’d replied already, even given a time. Reading your words made him feel slightly more at ease, slightly more... Real. A reminder of his obligations to the people around him, but also, and he’d never admit this, something to look forward to.

[carmen]: absolutely, see you then

Your next shift went by smoothly, as per usual. The French themed café you worked at had become such a big part of your life, not that you minded, you were in love with it. And as much as she’d deny it, you could tell the owner had taken a liking to you. You heard from the barista that most waitresses would get fired within a month or so, but you’d stuck around for three now.

“She said you have a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’... I think you remind her of her younger self.” Your colleague said while pouring out a cup of coffee.

“Right,” you took a tray and readied another order. “You sure you didn’t imagine that? I don’t remember Odette ever saying something nice to me before.”

“Not to your face, no.” She grinned, putting the cup on your tray. “I’m sure you’ll get her to put some of your stuff on the menu, she just has to warm up to it.”

“Yeah, just,” you grabbed the tray, balancing it with ease. “Give me a few decades to work her through that.” You both chuckled as you walked off to continue your work.

Carmen stood across the street, looking through the window of the café. Shit, he was way too early, and that wasn’t even usually like him. He’d left the Beef over to Sydney while he was gone, telling her he had something important to take care of. And although that wasn’t entirely untrue, he wasn’t sure she’d agree if she found out he was hanging out at some café.

He slipped into the place rather sneakily, deciding that if he was gonna have to wait, he might as well do it in there. It had been a while since he’d been inside, usually just to get a quick coffee or something, and he’d never paid much attention to the décor before. He was kind of impressed, despite being smack dab in the middle of Chicago, the café had a true Parisian feel too it. Sure, he’d never been to Paris, but he could imagine this was pretty close.

He sat down at a booth near a window and stared outside. He felt a bit uneasy just... waiting. There were so many things he still had to do, so many debts to pay off, things to consider, to change--

“Carmen? Is that you?”

Your voice snapped him out his train of thoughts, it almost felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through a dark cloud. He turned and saw you holding a menu, dressed in a cute dress and an apron.

“Yeah, I uh... Got here a bit too early, my bad.” He gave an apologetic, halfhearted smile.

“It’s no worries,” you handed him the menu. “You can just enjoy a coffee or something while you wait! What would you like?” You pulled out a notepad and a pen.

“Oh, uh... Christ...” His eyes squinted as he scanned the laminated menu. “Am I goin’ crazy or is this all in French?”

“Nope,” You chuckled. “It is. When I told you the menu hadn’t changed, I meant really, nothing has changed.”

“Fuck, alright, uhm... Just a regular coffee then.” He handed the menu back. “Please.”

“Comin’ right up!” You chirped, and he watched you make your merry way back into the kitchen. He could’ve sworn you damn near floated by how excited you seemed. He didn’t really understand it. You worked a waitress job where you weren’t allowed to change anything, you had to work early on Saturdays to help your family out and he could have guessed you probably still had time to maintain a healthy social life. It almost annoyed him how well balanced you seemed.

But someone as cute as you couldn’t possibly annoy him.

He received his coffee not long after, thanking you and admiring the porcelain for a moment. The more he noticed about this place, the more... Uneasy he felt. He didn’t realize why, and he kept mulling it over until long after he’d finished his drink.

Ah.

Because the Beef looked like a garbage dump compared to this.

And he owned that garbage dump.

He hated himself a little for comparing the two, they weren’t comparable at all besides both serving food and drinks, but the fact that you were only two blocks away didn’t help. And he was about to be helping you too, his competition.

The crew would kill him if they knew where he was at.

You worked on closing up, cleaning a few last cups and arranging them neatly before walking back to Carmen’s table. “Hope you enjoyed your coffee my good sir, but I must request you to join me in the kitchen, for I have prepared a mighty array of desserts for thou.” You grinned.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” He got up, ready to follow. “Don’t I gotta pay for that coffee?”

“S’on the house. Come on, we’ve got pastries to try!”

The kitchen closely resembled the rest of the establishment, although much more homely. It was small, doable, but just a little cramped.

You pulled out two stools for the two of you to sit on, before going to the fridge and taking out a tray. “Alright, so...” You put it down on the counter. “Here we’ve got classic cheesecake with a cinnamon cookie crust,” you pointed at each dessert, “a cream strawberry tart, and last but not least,” your fingers fluttered in a ‘jazz hands’ way, “tiramisu topped with fresh strawberries.”

Carmen scanned the tray before him. The presentation was immaculate, but he found that often with these types of desserts the looks were better than the taste. He hoped that wasn’t the case.

You sat across him, more nervous than you initially expected to be, as he tried each of the desserts. He had some notes about each one, as expected, you were just an amateur cook, but you could tell his eyes lit up a little when he tried the tiramisu.

“Mm,” He hummed, putting his spoon back in for another bite. “Shit, that’s fire chef...”

“Chef?” You raised an eyebrow. No one had ever called you that before.

“Sorry,” He swallowed, “Freudian slip, my bad.”

You chuckled. “No, no, I don’t mind... The tiramisu is a family recipe, actually. My nana used to make it all the time.” A nostalgic smile graced your face.

“Those are usually the best.” He thinks back at the food him and Mikey used to make when they were younger, and somehow, it makes the tiramisu taste even better. “So, anything else you wanna add?”

“Oh!” You were a little caught off guard by his question. “Uhm, well... Now that you mention it, I’d love to add macarons, to play into the French theme of the café. I’ve just never been able to get them right, and trust me, I’ve tried.”

Carmen puts away the empty glass cup. “Do you want me to teach you?”

“Huh?” You were sure you misunderstood at first, but the look he gave you was telling you he was at least expecting an answer. “Uh... Sure, yeah! I’d love to! I think we still have all the ingredients here from my last attempt too.”

“Great.” He got up, clasping his hands together. “Let’s get to bakin’, chef.”

The two of you stood next to each other at the counter. His jacket was off, now replaced with a baby pink frilly apron, supposedly the only one you had. You’d been relatively quiet, mostly focusing on taking his advice and following instructions. But as he was sifting almond powder, and you were beating egg whites, he had this strange urge to fill the silence. It was weird, usually he preferred working quietly, but it was almost strange to hear you not talking when you were there.

“So... You’re not from Chicago, are you?” He kept his eyes on the sifter.

You grinned, still whisking away. “What gave it away?”

“You smile a lot,” he took the bowl from you and held it upside down to check the consistency of the egg whites, “and I haven’t seen you light a single cigarette.” He put the bowl back and started weighing off some sugar. “So either you’re not from here, or I want whatever drugs you’re taking.”

You chuckled at his remark, finding his self deprecating humor quite amusing. “No, you’re right. I grew up on my parents’ farm, though it’s not too far from here, I never really came close to the city. Moved here about three months ago, so I haven’t explored much.” You took the sugar from him and gradually started adding it to the egg whites. “What about you? Born and raised?”

“What gave it away?” He joked back. “Born, raised, moved away for culinary school, worked in New York, now I’m back.” He sighed. Being back in Chicago was... Strange. Because after not having seen his brother for literal years, he was now constantly confronted with everything that reminded him of Mikey. Including his business.

“Interesting.” You started working together the mixture, sneaking glances at his face every now and then to gage his reaction. “So... What brought you back?”

A longer silence followed your question, and you could tell his hands even stopped moving for a moment. Suddenly he seemed tense, and you worried if your question had struck a cord.

He swallowed, eyes fixated on the ingredients before him. “My brother.”

“Oh! Well, I’m sure he’s happy to see you back.” You offered a kind smile.

“Yeah, I uh... I’m not sure he would be.” He glanced at you, eyes quickly darting back to the vanilla extract he was measuring out, uncomfortable with eye contact when he talked about Mikey. “He died.” His eyebrow twitched slightly. “Suicide.”

You stop whisking for a moment to look at him, and you can tell his face had reddened. You feel awful for pressing him on such a sensitive subject, but you had no idea.

The two of you continue to prepare the batter in complete silence for a good minute. Both of you feel bad. Him, for dumping this information on you, and you, for even asking about it.

“I’m sorry,” you speak up, filling up a piping bag with batter, “I had no idea.”

“S’okay,” He runs his hand through his hair, a nervous tic, almost. “I’ve been trying to talk more about it. Especially since I kinda run his business now.”

“Well, if it counts for anything,” You give him another sweet smile, and this time, it does actually make him feel a little better. Silently, he wished they could put the feeling your smiles gave in pills, so he could take those instead. “I think he’d be proud of you.”

He doesn’t reply. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t know if he agrees. He doesn’t know what Mikey would think, and from what he’s heard from Richie, he’s not even sure if he would recognize the person his brother had become through his addiction. But the possibility is there, and you reminding him of it was enough. For now, at least.

He noticed you struggling with the piping bag and got behind you, hands sneaking over yours to help you hold it correctly. “There we go.”

Carmen doesn’t seem to notice how close he is to you. Or how warm your face had gotten. Or how the way he smelled was distracting you from listening to what he was saying. Cigarettes, coffee and sandalwood... A strange, but not unappealing mix of scents.

You turn your head just a slight bit and catch a glimpse of his blue eyes. They were so bright, piercing almost, but they held such a profound sadness behind them. You wondered what else they held, what other stories he struggled to talk about.

Carmen noticed you weren’t watching what you were doing and looked up, accidentally meeting your eyes now. And then he realized how close he was, cheeks growing flushed like a teenage boy as he let go of your hands and took a step back, clearing his throat. “Shit, uh... My bad.”

You chuckled nervously. “It’s fine, I appreciate the help.” You leaned down to preheat the oven.

“Yeah… Anytime.”

A while after, the two of you were presented with perfect, pink tinted macarons. You smile proudly, hands on your hips as you admire the final product in front of you. “Man, we really nailed those, huh?”

Carmen smiles, a little sleepily. It was starting to get dark outside and he hadn’t even had dinner yet, but he felt bad about having to interrupt your baking session. Usually when he was in the kitchen he was focused, collected, he was making a product that he had to be proud of. But he’d been open to you, he’d laughed, he almost felt… Relaxed. Maybe that’s why he was feeling sleepy.

That, or the insane lack of sleep was catching up to him once more.

You looked outside and noticed that the sun was going down. “Shit, how long have we been here?” You checked the time on your phone. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I had no idea it already got this late... Uh, if you want I’ll drive you home?”

“Yeah, that would be--” His sentence got cut off by the sound of his stomach growling loudly. The two of you stayed quiet for a moment as Carmen put a hand over his abdomen, clearing his throat, a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I uh... I haven’t eaten anything today besides those desserts earlier.”

Now you really felt guilty. Not only had you kept him at the café for way longer than you should have, but you were nearly making the poor guy starve. “Tell ya what,” You handed him his jacket and took off your apron. “How ‘bout you come back to my apartment and I’ll make us both dinner. I’m no expert chef like you, but I can cook a mean pasta!”

He hesitated for a moment. He hadn’t been to someone else’s apartment in so long, let alone someone he was interested in. But he supposed it was better than being alone in his apartment again, probably heating up a shitty frozen meal because he was too tired to cook.

Your apartment was nice. Well, nicer than his at least, although that probably didn’t mean much. For only having lived there for three months, he could tell you’d really added your own touch to the place.

“Welcome to mi casa!” You playfully bowed, allowing him to enter and closing the door behind you two. You tossed your keys onto the counter and took off your coat, ready to get to cooking. “You can settle on the couch, put something on, I got Netflix if you want. I’ll have dinner made in just a sec!”

Carmen moved with caution. This was... Unknown territory. He knew you were probably just being friendly, but this was a pretty big step for him. He had his boundaries, his walls firmly set, and you were jumping over them like it was nothing. It was just... Easier with you, somehow. To open up, to talk.

Not long after he’d chosen something to watch, you arrived with two deep plates of pesto pasta with mozzarella and diced tomatoes. “There we go, I always make this when I don’t feel like cooking.” You handed him a plate and a fork, before settling down next to him. Your couch wasn’t that big, so your shoulders were touching the entire time.

The two of you were watching a cooking competition, something you didn’t realize would revitalize Carmen so much. Not because he liked it so much, but because he was so focused on the mistakes the contestants were making, and felt the need to point every single one of them out to you. Your two plates stood empty on the coffee table, along with a bottle of red wine and two, very empty glasses.

“Now, see this,” he pointed at the TV, “can’t believe they’re even allowed to air this, this is a disgrace to cooking. The fuckin’ idiot hasn’t touched a single spice this entire episode!”

The both of you were both kind of tipsy, and you were leaning against him now, smiling to yourself as you tried to withhold laughter from every serious comment he made.

“And now--” He looked at you and realized you were hanging on for dear life not to break out in giggles. “What’s so funny?” He asked with a grin.

“N-Nothing, nothing!” You chuckled, leaning away from him so he wouldn’t see your expression.

“Ah, so now we’re shy!” He poked your side, the wine doing wonders for his confidence. “Come on, let’s hear those laughs then!” He continued poking you, and you couldn’t take it anymore, the ticklish sensation making you squirm. You grabbed his arm and pulled it away from your abdomen, making him fall forward onto the couch. He caught himself, hand resting on the armrest, now leaning over you.

You looked up at him, and god, maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but you swore he’d never looked hotter. Leaned over you, curls framing his face, strong arms surrounding you. His gorgeous blue eyes staring down into yours, tension growing between the two of you.

So you couldn’t help yourself.

You leaned up, capturing his lips in yours, a hand coming up to rest on the back of his head to pull him in further.

He froze, eyes only fluttering shut after a few seconds, melting into the kiss as his hand came down to rest on your waist. His mind ran blank, nothing plaguing his mind anymore, all besides one thought;

“Damn. She tastes even sweeter than those strawberries.”

tag list <3

@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar @spr3id @deadandstill

#aster writes the bear #carmenmath #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear #the bear fic #the bear imagine #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

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cixrosie · 4 months

Text

Under You

Prompt : " You smell so Good" Character B whispers as they continue to litter kisses down Character A's jaw and neck, revealing in the noises Character A lets involuntary slip out of their mouth

from @dumplingsjinsonfrom this prompt list

warning: slightly suggestive

Beau had been gone for about a week and half on an extended roadie and he had been texting you nonstop, so you knew he missed you but you missed him just as much. He texted you earlier that day saying he found an earlier flight so he would be home later tonight .

You decided to order his favorite food and put it in the refrigerator for him when he gets home . You also decide to clean around the house a little even though it wasn't really dirty just a little dusty . After you are done cleaning the house you decide to chill for the rest of the day. Just relaxing and watching shows on the couch to past the time until Beau comes home.

You wake up when you feel yourself being lifted off from the couch , at first you started freaking out but the musky scent of Beaus cologne settled you back down. " hi" he said with a smirk on his face "Hi" you responded with a sleepy smile on your face that shows the amount of love for the man who's carrying you to your shared bedroom.

" how was your flight" , " it was good , would've been better with you though" he responded as he played you down in your spot on the bed. It was then you realized he was already dressed for bed . " how long have you been home" you asked him " about two hours I thought id let you sleep while I got undressed and ready for bed " he says as he starts to hover over you with a cocky smirk.

" oh yea" you say to him flirty , "yea" he says as he closes the gap between you two as he kisses you passionately. As you are laying down under him you get a surge of confidence and flip you both over so you are on top of Beau. You don't know how you were able to successfully flip over a tall and muscly hockey player , you are pretty sure its because of him being tired but were gonna credit your amazing core strength lol.

"wow " Beau says as he looks at you from under you . You then start kissing his jaw and down his neck letting him know exactly how much you missed him. " You smell so good " you whisper as you take a quick break from attacking his neck and jaw, but resuming almost immediately. As you are really enjoying the noises Beau is making as you mark him up.

" I love you so much " he says as he grips your hips tightly " I love you more My Beau" you say " but I can definitely feel how much you are enjoying this " You tease as you look down between you two and look back at him smirking. " oh yea " he says " yea" you responded . As you said that Beau flipped you both over so you were now back under him and he whispers " let me show just just how much" and you knew you were in for a long , enjoyable night with the man you are sure you're going to marry .

a/n : Ahh hi this is my third fic and its pretty short and I don't know how I feel about it but had to give my man Beau some love also imagine this as he's still with the Canucks BECAUSE I REFUSE TO ACCEPT HES WITH * THAT* TEAM

im tagging my favorite people on this app that have AMAZING fics and AUs so go show them some love feedback is appreciated but don't feel like you have to ok BYEEEEE

@letsgetrowdy43 @kniesylenny @yankstrash @hischierhaze @heavenlyhischier @sweetestdesire @thatintrovertedwriter @starry-hughes @drewsbuzzcut @bedsyandco @norrisjosh @theywantedplayer @bitchinbarzal @ladylooch @babydollmarauders @nicohischierz @sunkissed-zegras @uluvjay @ilyasorokinn @hischierdevils @hischiershoney @jackhues @swissboyhisch @perfectlysaltycat32

#nhl #chicago blackhawks #I WANT YOU TO KNOW I HATE THAT IM TAGGING THAT TEAM #anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier x reader #anthony beauvillier blurb #Anthony beauvillier imagine #Anthony beauvillier imagines #anthony beauvillier fic #hockey blurb #hockey fic #hockey writing #autumns writing 💭

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jasntodds · 22 days

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Petrichor [19]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 12,542

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, mention of abuse, mention of manipulation, mentions of death, mentions of canon characters deaths, mentions of drug use

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: We're almost done with season 3 and I am so excited!! You're all gonna hate me later lmao (again happy ending, promise) I have so many plans lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

You, Gar, and Rachel are sitting around the Lazurus Pit. Rachel has just finished giving Gar a pep talk about how she's able to do what she does out of love. Gar has been feeling a little bit like a letdown, unable to transform into different animals on command like he can as a tiger. The only times it's happened is when he's terrified, as if there's a block of fear in his head keeping him from transforming into anything else. You stay silent. You don't think Rachel is wrong. Gar could definitely change into other animals beyond being scared and maybe the answer is the love he has for all of the Titans and the love everyone has for him because everyone believes him. But, you're still stuck in your head wondering if that's always enough.

Right now, love doesn't seem like the thing that heals all wounds and makes everything better. It wasn't enough to keep Jason safe. It wasn't enough to keep him out of Crane's grasp. It wasn't enough to get Bruce to kill the Joker before he had his chance. It wasn't enough to bring Jason home. It wasn't enough for Rachel to bring Donna back. It wasn't enough for Sam to bring Jason back. It wasn't enough to keep the Titans at the tower. There have been so many things, especially lately, where it's just not been enough. Sometimes it's not enough so instead of being pessimistic about it, you stay quiet, looking at the pit and hoping it spits Dick out.

"You're quiet." Gar states, moving his attention to you.

"Oh, yeah." You shake your head, glancing back at him. "Just...waiting." You look back at Rachel. There's no guarantee this is going to work. You need another plan if it doesn't. You need another plan if it takes too long. "Do you think you could find the other Titans? Like...at some point tonight?"

"Yeah." Rachel nods her head. "I can feel their energy, too." Rachel's voice is soft.

"Well, that's good at least. Kory will know what to do." You let out a sigh, moving your stare back to the Pit.

"You don't think this is gonna work, do you?" Rachel asks.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I'm just trying to think ahead in case it doesn't or in case it takes a while. I mean, for all we know it takes a few days." You state just as the put starts bubbling. "Or...a few hours." You mutter as the three of you get to your feet, looking into the pit just as Dick's fist punches through the surface and he emerges from the thick and glowing liquid.

Dick starts to swim to the edge while you and Gar quickly meet him there to help pull him out. You both grab his arms, pulling at him until he's out of the pit and leaning back on his hands. He coughs up water just as Rachel kneels down beside him, you and Gar getting back to your feet. You and Gar exchange a look of disbelief as hope has the courage to start to fill your chests.

"Dick?" Rachel asks.

Dick manages to look at her, furrowing his brows in confusion before he falls back onto his back and passes out. Rachel looks back to Gar and you, as if one of you will know what just happened.

"What do we do?" Rachel asks.

"Is he breathing?" Gar asks with hesitance.

The three of you see Dick's chest rising and falling. This whole thing has been weird and it almost seemed like he drowned. Is there supposed to be more to do this? Or is he supposed to just...sleep off the effects and then he's just alive again? The three of you are completely confused by the entire situation.

"Yes." Rachel states.

"I guess we wait some more?" You question. "He's breathing so that's better than the alternative." You shrug your shoulders, wishing you would have pressed Jason to get some answers from Crane about him coming back.

But then Dick snaps back out of it, gasping himself awake as he shoots up. You and Gar both jump back slightly at the sudden movement and sound as if Dick is jumpscare in a bad horror movie.

"Rachel?" Dick gasps for breath, looking more confused than ever. "Gar?" Dick rushes, getting onto one knee. "Y/n?" Dick questions looking to you.

The last thing he remembers to be real is you and Jason kneeling above him, looking lost and panicked. Then there was everything in the pit which only leaves him with far more questions than answers, none of which he has time to get answers to right now. The Pit told him everything he needs to know to take down Crane. That's all that can matter right now if you're all going to save Gotham. He can deal with the rest later.

"It's okay now. You're safe." Rachel assures him. "Let us help you."

"Are you...alright?" Gar asks with worry.

"Yeah, dude. You like...died." You state with the scrunch of your nose, earning a light nudge from Gar.

"What...what happened down there?" Gar asks.

Dick breathes heavily, catching his breath and then completely avoids the question. "Crane can be stopped." Dick states, running a hand through his hair. "There's still time." Dick rushes, getting to his feet.

Dick starts to walk towards the exit as Rachel gets to her feet. He cannot possibly be serious. He just died and drowned and now he's just...going to stop Crane. Suddenly he has all the answers and he's going to go off on his own? He can barely even catch his breath.

"Wait. Dick, man, you need to rest." Gar rushes after him, the three of you right on Dick's heels.

Dick turns around, barely facing the three of them. "Anton and First Street. There's an abandoned control room. Find Conner. Make sure he's okay. Unite the Titans." Dick states in a hurry. "Y/n, with me, let's go." Dick rushes before he turns on his heels and starts darting down the hallway.

"Unite the Titans where?" Rachel calls after him.

"Take them to Donna." Dick states, not slowing down or stopping as he makes his way down the tunnel.

The three of you look between each other in confusion, trying to grasp any sort of explanation to no avail. Donna is supposed to be dead, according to Rachel. And he was in a Pit?

Dick calls your name from down the hall, his voice echoing over the bricks.

You shrug at the two of them. "Uh...alright. Good luck with that, I guess? I'll make sure he's not fucking insane." You state quickly, spinning on your heels before you jog down the hall to catch up to Dick.

You catch up to Dick who is walking a steady and quick pace, his head clearly thinking a hundred steps ahead. You eye him as you match his pace, walking right beside him. He just died? And then came back to life? There is no way in hell this man is just...fine with that. Of course, there are a lot of other things you all need to focus on, especially with him somehow knowing Crane can be stopped. There are more pressing matters than Dick's mental state at this exact point in time but that doesn't bring you any type of ease.

No one should die and then just be fine.

Jason sure as shit isn't. So, Dick can't be either.

Sam follows Dick out of the building, keeping up with him.

"We're going to meet Jason." Dick states flatly once the two of you exit the building.

"We're gonna what now?" You question, shaking your head. "And how do you expect we even find him?"

"He'll be here." Dick states, a confidence that should be reassuring consumes his voice.

How is he so sure about everything all of a sudden? The Lazarus Pit brings people back, and heals them, but...it can't possibly predict the future right? But, Dick also just said Donna is alive which means...if that's actually true the pit brings more than life back to someone. It brings some sort of clarity for things they otherwise shouldn't know. But if he's wrong that just means it's made him crazy which also means the pit did have some sort of lasting effect on Jason, too. This can't be good.

"How do you even know that?" You question, trying to figure out what is actually going on. If anything, he needs to slow down.

"He'll always go back to where it happened." Dick states.

What?

Your face scrunches in both annoyance and more confusion. You did this round-and-round question game with Jason, you're not doing it with Dick. He wants you to go and find Jason so damn bad, he can give you some clarity, too.

"What the shit with Donna being alive? How the fuck do you even know that?" You almost demand instead of asking.

"I just do." Dick says simply.

"That's not reassuring whatsoever." You mutter with more annoyance.

Dick glances down to you, seeing you grow frustrated. "The pit..." Dick says.

"Yeah, no I figured that out but you're not exactly giving out details here." You roll your eyes before you grab his arm to bring him to a stop. "Dude, seriously, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Come on, we can't waste—" Dick starts as he continues walking.

"No, fuck that shit!" You yell, keeping up with him again. "You know, you batboys do that shit all the time. You guys say you're fine when you're not. You literally just fucking died, Dick. You can't just be fine after that. And you know if the three of you would just fucking talk about how not fine all of you are, we probably wouldn't be in this mess to begin with, right? Like that's your guys' entire fucking problem. I hate talking about my shit, too but I'm learning the more I admit how not fine I am the easier it is and I tend to feel a little bit better about it. The three of you are just fucking annoying about it and if you really think that's not your problem, you're being willfully ignorant and we both know that's not a very Nightwing thing to be." You finish with a scoff and the shake of your head.

And maybe a large part of your frustration is that neither of them seem to think they matter. They are sacrifices. Jason always thinks the world is simply better off without him and Dick thinks he's expendable. He can be the sacrifice for the greater good. It's why he's reckless and why he goes off on his own. Jason does the exact same thing. It's fine to them if they die. But, they leave these people in the wake of their deaths with paralyzing grief. This time it wasn't permanent for either of them but what happens when it is? It shouldn't be because they were reckless and decided to sacrifice themselves because they matter to people. The people who love them and they should be considered in all of this.

Dick glances down to you as you keep your eyes straight, jaw clenched tight. Dying is traumatic but you're right. They don't talk about it. Bruce never talked about anything so Dick wouldn't talk about anything and Jason never talked about anything. Batman and Robin could never be scared and they weren't allowed to let their emotions get in the way. Emotions cause blurriness and distractions. On the field, those things get you killed. But, he's not Robin. He's not with Batman. He just died as Nightwing.

"It was a lot." Dick manages to state.

"Yeah..." You say quietly.

"You almost died. I think you know." Dick says, still partially avoiding the question.

"Yeah, it was really scary and traumatizing." You state flatly because even though you were close, you did not die. He saved you. And Jason saved you. Close doesn't count here.

"Yeah." Dick keeps his word short. "I had to face some...challenges." Dick confesses, feeling the very core of his bones ache with guilt over the brutal beating of Jason even though it wasn't real in the pit. "It's hard to explain. It was a test or something." You look at him, seeing the look of distance and remorse dissolve over his face and you don't need to ask what kind of tests. "I understand Jason a little more now, him as Red Hood." Dick lets out a breath. "But I can't focus on what happened if we're going to stop Crane. "

You nod softly. "Right, yeah, got it." You let out a breath. "Your ability to compartmentalize is really something else but you should really deal with it after instead pushing it off." You say quietly, earning a glance from Dick. "Something else will always come up, you're Nightwing. You're a Titan. I'm just saying, look where we stand today like maybe it would have been different if things weren't always compartmentalized. Maybe you need to feel it sometimes."

The words almost catch you off guard. You've been running from your own pain for so long that you think that's your biggest issue. You run and it hurts you and the people that care about you. It's easier to not feel any of it but it makes being a person harder. There is blood on your hands and a part of you wonders if you had just let yourself grieve, maybe there wouldn't be. Maybe most of what happened between you and Jason after wouldn't have happened because you would have grieved. You would have felt all of it. Maybe had you stuck around after your mom died, let yourself just feel it, you wouldn't have ended up with Jerry. Maybe allowing the pain to bleed a little is how people heal from it. Let it scab over and let it mend itself over time with care and attention.

"Are you okay?" Dick asks. "You were there. You found Jason, you were there with Tim. This is a lot for you, too."

"Yeah..." You let out a sigh. "Like...I-I-I don't know. You're like this weird...weird brother I-I never really wanted or asked for and then you died. And that's just...I don't know. I fuck with you but I respect you and ya know?" You look up with honest eyes. "Kind of would suck a lot if you died permanently. You're like good at this and you're important to the Titans." You roll your shoulder, pulling in a heavy breath. "And to me." You mutter so quietly Dick nearly misses it.

"Thank you." Dick says. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." There's the smallest touch of sarcasm in his voice.

You manage to crack a smile. "Eh, don't get used to it, Dickolas. It's cause you died. Gotta be nice to you for at least an hour." Dick shakes his head but you see the subtle hint of a smile on his face. "Why are we going to find Jason anyway?"

"He'll know how to take out Crane and we need him on the inside. He wouldn't tell Crane he's against him, would he?" Dick asks.

"Doubt it." You scoff. "Jason is smart, methodical. He still wants Crane dead for what he did to me so he's not gonna let Crane think they're on different sides just so he can have the upper hand."

"Good. We find Jason and bring him with us. I have a plan." Dick states with urgency but offers no further explanation.

"Yeah...okay. So, uh, where do I come in? The mediator, still?" You almost laugh at the idea.

"No. You said Jason wanted to talk, let's talk. You're here because I need you with Jason."

While the idea of them talking is definitely enticing, you aren't completely convinced. Jason didn't pull the trigger this time but it is his fault Dick died. And given how Jason has been about Bruce who wasn't even in Gotham when Jason was killed, you can't help but feel a bit uneasy with Dick wanting to find Jason so soon after surviving the Pit.

"And how do we know you're not gonna kill Jason? I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want you to kill him and I'd fight like hell to make sure you don't. But...he did kind of just get you killed so you can see why I'm a little confused about you're kind of change of heart, I guess." You explain, eyeing him from the corner of your eye.

"You'll just have to trust me. I never wanted him dead. He was just giving us no choice." There's something almost sad that trickles into his voice while his expression gives nothing away.

"There's always a choice, Dick." You say quietly. "You can't say there isn't a choice when you yelled at me for killing and you're mad at Jason for killing. And you preached about how we can't be judge, jury, and executioner. There is a choice."

"Jason was going to kill all of us." Dick defends his stance, not acknowledging the hypocrisy of it all.

"So? And the ones we want dead will keep trying to kill other people. Or worse. Just because we, specifically, aren't their targets doesn't mean they get a pass. The innocent people that are their targets deserve the same amount of care and protection that we offer each other." You pull in a breath, feeling Dick move his stare to you. "We clearly didn't have to kill him, is my point."

This is the most Dick has gotten out about your motive. It's more than it being about the kids left behind. It's the bigger picture. That there is a choice and sometimes it's a bad choice and a hard choice but one that means, in your head, protecting the greater good in the same way Dick wants to protect the Titans. It doesn't mean he agrees with you, but he does see your point of view for once.

"Do you disagree with going after Jason?"

"No." You answer plainly. "I'm just incredibly loyal to him. If it were anyone else, they'd be dead. And I understand that's a bit hypocritical given what I just said. That's why circumstances and background are important when making the decision to kill someone." You shake your head. "I know him. I know him being a cold-blooded killer isn't him. Background matters."

"You're right it does. I do not want him dead." Dick offers a sincere nod towards you before it falls silent between you.

You finally reach the spot from last night where Dick was killed. Dick finds the Red Hood helmet, picks it up and takes it along with him. There's a puddle of blood still on the pavement that makes your stomach twist. It's as if blood stains everything it touches.

You're still unconvinced Jason will be here like Dick says. He's not psychic all of a sudden. But, you stay with him anyway, hoping you run into Jason and of course, you do. Somehow, Dick is right about this. Jason is yelling that Red Hood is back as he fires a gun into the air.

"Jason...it's okay." Dick calls, getting Jason's attention as he spins around quickly. His face is still covered in blood and cuts from the fight the night before. His eyes nearly bug out of his head, this can't be right. "It's me."

He knows the three of you took Dick to the Pit but there is a part of him that still can't believe it worked. Watching the life literally leave someone's body only for them to be alive the following day, that's more than unsettling. It feels wrong. It's the same wrong feeling Jason gets any time he gets a moment of silence and can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

But he is relieved to see Dick walking and alive. The feeling of it being wrong, is just the echo in his own bones. Dick should be the one alive. If the Pit were to work on anyone and offer someone a second chance, it should be Dick.

"It worked?" Jason questions, almost losing the breath from his lungs with the words. His eyes land on you as if you're the only one who can confirm if this is real or not.

You nod once. "Yeah, it did."

"You knew?" Dick asks.

Jason nods. "Rachel said that's where Gar was taking you." Jason explains as his eyes start to grow glassy, the guilt thundering through his bones once more.

"We don't have much time. I need your help." Dick cuts the conversation short, knowing they can't discuss this now but he's getting the idea maybe Jason did just want to talk. He looks hurt and relieved to see him and you.

You, on the other hand, are still uneasy. Dick isn't giving you any indication that this is going to go sideways but you feel yourself grip a knife from your belt anyway. This can't go sideways again. You all working on different teams has not helped fight Crane but working together should. Crane, at the very least, won't see it coming. You just don't want to see anyone else close to you die again.

"You want me to help you?" Jason asks, stretching his arms out at his sides in disbelief. He can't help. Not after what he's become. "I'm a fucking murderer."

"You know how Crane is operating. You know how he thinks." Dick starts. "He needs to be stopped or a lot more people are gonna die." Dick pauses for just a second. "You want redemption?" Dick asks as Jason hangs his head. "Do you?" Dick asks more firmly this time. "This is the first step."

Of course he wants redemption for the harm he's caused but his methods now do not align with Dick's. He's almost gotten them killed and he did kill Hank. He betrayed them. How is he supposed to go back now and help? After everything? After what he's become? It sounds hopeless and he almost lets his pity get the best of him until his eyes meet yours.

"We need your help, Jay." You plead with him.

Jason shakes his head. "You can't stop him." Jason answers with defeat rather than snark. He genuinely believes Gotham is lost to Crane. "He's got everything. The police, the Batcave. He's gonna take the whole fucking city down!"

"How?" Dick asks more in a way that sounds like a demand.

"You think I know?" Jason scoffs. "He doesn't tell me shit."

"Jay? You have to know something. You've been with him this entire time and you wanted to talk to Dick last night. You know something." You urge, practically begging him to just say something.

He told you once that he remembers everything. Crane slipped somewhere and all Jason has to do is remember. Think of whatever the hell Crane said that might be a clue.

Jason hangs his head as tears start to come to his eyes. "It was all crazy shit." Jason pauses for a second. "Like waves of anger and fear. The bright and darkened lands of the Earth. Something about an attack you and Bruce stopped a long time ago." Jason states, looking at Dick with confusion knowing Bruce never told him.

"Years ago, Crane sent a poem to Jim Gordon with clues about an attack on Gotham. A chain of explosives to release his fear toxin. We stopped him before he had the chance to set it off. Bruce took Crane's weapons and put them in the Gotham Armory to study them."

"And Crane's in the Batcave." Jason finishes. "So, he knows where those weapons are."

"And so do we now." Dick states as he extends Jason's helmet out to him. "We need to go."

Jason puts the pistol back in the holster on his leg. "So, I'm a Titan again?" Jason asks.

"No, you'll never be a Titan again." Dick states before he closes the distance between them, offering his helmet. "But, you can help us save Gotham."

Jason eyes the helmet as the feeling of being lost hits him like a ton of bricks. He never really fit in being a Titan anyway but...something about the confirmation that even if he were to change back to who he was before, it's over, really hits him. It's something he can't come back from. That part of his life, Robin, is gone. It's lost to the darkness. The Joker took it from him. Crane took it from him. The one thing he thought made him who he is, is shattered with so many of his hopes. It's lost and gone and Jason can't help but feel alone and lost now.

But, feeling that way got him here in the first place so he takes the helmet from Dick.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me?" Jason asks.

"Because now I know what it's like to die." Dick answers harshly.

Jason's eyes glance to you and then back to the helmet in his hands. It's more guilt. It's always guilt that comes back like the bladed boomerang. Jason knows firsthand what it's like to die, too and that didn't stop him. That was never a reason for him to stop. It doesn't matter that he was drugged and manipulated because, to Jason, Dick's reason should have been enough. It doesn't matter that the drug removed his guilt and his fear and the feeling of being haunted and stalked by something dark and twisted. He should have known better and he put death on Hank anyway. He lead Dick to getting killed.

He should have known better than to go after the people who actually cared about him. He knows what it's like to die and Dick does, too. To Jason, that should give Dick enough reason to kill him and yet...he doesn't and he seems sincere.

"Fine." Jason agrees reluctantly. "How can I help?" Jason asks letting out a steady breath as he nods his head.

"Come on. I've got a car around the block. We're going to break into the vault." Dick says casually as he starts walking past Jason.

Jason looks at you before you roll your eyes, trailing after Dick, Jason falling in line with you. The two of you follow Dick to the car he, for some reason, just has. You and Jason can only assume it's from last night. He had to get to Jason some way. Jason takes the passenger seat while you sit in the back, sitting right in the middle. Dick starts the drive while Jason is stuck in the car with his brother. This is not the ideal situation.

"Do you want to explain any of this?" Dick asks after a few minutes of silence. "How we got here?"

"Not really." Jason quips back with frustration looking out the window. He's not even entirely sure where to start. It all feels like this started so long ago and maybe in a way it did. Maybe it started that day he stole the hubcaps. Maybe he should have listened to Dick and you about Bruce. "After fucking everything, I just can't believe Bruce couldn't fucking kill the Joker." Jason lets out a scoff. "He fucking beat me to death with a fucking crowbar and Bruce just...fucks off somewhere." Jason scoffs again, barely able to hide the crack in his voice.

The car falls dead silent as Dick glances in the rearview mirror at you before you lean forward in between the boys. You and Dick are on the verge of exploding. This really cannot be Jason's entire motive. How the hell doesn't he know? You look at Jason who's giving you a confused and annoyed expression. You look back to Dick who is clearly trying to figure out how he's supposed to burst this bubble without it leading to another fistfight.

"I got it." You state before looking to Jason. "Who exactly do you think killed the Joker?" You blink at him with your brows raised, really hoping Jason's motive is not entirely linked to this little bit of information.

Jason eyes you, looking to the side and then back at you. The look you're giving him with Dick glancing at him has him feeling like Crane may have lied to him about that, too. But, Bruce wouldn't throw his morals away, right? Not for someone like Jason. Not for Jason. Bruce didn't kill the Joker.

"Uh...Crane said it was one of the prisoners who dressed like the Bat?" Jason lets out a scoff, playing it off in hopes this conversation is not going where he thinks it's going.

You look back at Dick who looks like he might have an aneurysm. Jason has been deadset on his new form of justice which you agree with but...if he thinks Bruce didn't kill the Joker for him, maybe that's his motive. You always felt his hatred towards Dick was just some weird rivalry amplified by Crane but if Jason thought no one avenged him...maybe that's it. You almost cringe at the idea of having to burst his bubble.

"You hear it, right?" You ask Jason as you look back at him. "Like..." You pause, scrunching your nose. "Crane, inmate dressing as the Bat."

There is no fucking way Bruce actually killed someone, the Joker, for Jason.

"Did....did Bruce actually do it?" Jason huffs as if he expects you and Dick to be messing with him as some sort of cruel payback or even to get him back on the "good" side.

"Walked into my room with a bloody crowbar." Dick states.

He cannot believe of all lies for Jason to believe from Crane, he had to believe that one. Crane is a manipulative asshole who's had Jason drugged and under his thumb ever since coming back, but how does Jason actually believe this? Even though Bruce has always been completely against murder in any instance, Jason should have known it was a lie. All of Gotham knows it was actually Batman.

"He actually did it?" Jason asks but this time, there's a sense of shock and remorse in his voice.

Every single part of him should feel relieved that Bruce would do this for him. Bruce Wayne, Batman, the same guy who has preached about not being judge, jury, and executioner, killed someone for him. Bruce killed The Joker for beating Jason to death and Jason should feel relieved and thankful but instead, he just feels guilty. Maybe wanting Bruce to avenge his death was never the thing he really wanted.

"Yeah, Jay." You nod your head, your voice quiet and sad. "Fuck Bruce, but I told you he loved you."

"Fuck." Jason lets out a groan, resting his head back on the headrest. "I really fucking thought he wouldn't do it."

Jason always thought Bruce would never break that moral code. He said it would be too easy to keep going. It's always just that one and then there would be another who's just as bad. The lines would start to blur and he wouldn't be able to stop. But, Jason did think if he ever were going to break it, it would have been for Dick, not Jason. He had no idea he actually meant that much to Bruce and now Bruce up and leaving Gotham without a trace makes sense. It wasn't that Crane drove him away or some sort of hideaway until things cooled down after losing his son. It was the grief of it all. The blame Bruce has to feel, knowing he led Jason into the road of Robin.

"Was that your only motivation for this?" Dick questions, almost not wanting to know the answer.

"Of course not." Jason sneers. "But...it didn't help." Jason grits his teeth. "I don't fucking know." Jason crosses his arms, not more aggravated over the whole thing than ever.

Crane took everything from him. And Jason trusted him.

"It's okay if you're mad at him for not saving you and thinking he didn't avenge your death." You state softly. "But now you know."

"I'm not though." Jason states as he nearly cuts you off, catching you both off guard. "I'm not fucking mad at him for not saving me." Jason's voice trails off. "I...fuck it. Forget it, alright? Crane lied to me about that, too and here we are." Jason lets out a scoff as he shakes his head before turning to look out his window.

Dick always felt like Jason was the type to hold a grudge, get unreasonable mad about things beyond his control. But, in the time since the tower, he got to know him better, finding out that wasn't entirely true. Jason's statement just now proves that. It was never about Bruce not saving him or even avenging him. It was him being alone. Thrown to the side the second things started to get messy. It was always about him feeling abandoned and less than, not good enough.

And you can see that, too.

You look to Dick and for once, Dick looks worried. "Don't worry," You start, earning a look from Jason. "I'll kill Crane for you." You offer him a soft smile that almost makes Jason laugh.

"Really?" Dick questions with annoyance.

"Don't pretend like you don't want him dead." You chortle.

"Yeah, right." Jason scoffs. "He's too good for it." Jason nearly chortles with you just to mock Dick.

"Hey!" Dick challenges. "Crane is bad, he just needs to remain locked away."

"No, you want him dead." You nod your head. "He killed your brother, drove your adoptive dad away, almost killed me, killed Hank, has been actively trying to get you killed for two weeks, and turned all of Gotham against the Titans. You want him dead. I can tell."

"You got a fucking sixth sense for right now?" Jason quips, this time actually letting a laugh slip from the bottom of his lungs.

"No." You chortle. "Dick isn't as stern when he talks about not killing Crane. He always has this look about killing being wrong and he always says the same thing, he doesn't do either with Crane."

"He's just a bad person." Dick defends himself, not even wanting to humor your theory behind this.

"No shit, man." Jason huffs. "I fucking died and he probably set the whole thing up."

"So did I." Dick states back.

"Gar died, you both died, Donna died and all of you came back. We all just taking turns? Where should I stand in line?" You quip with the intention of not letting them even start an argument.

"Not funny." Jason and Dick say at the same time, making themselves grimace.

You burst into a fit of laughter. "I told you, Jay. You two--"

"Shut the fuck up." Jason hits his head on the back of the headrest, closing his eyes. The last thing he wants to hear is that him and Dick even have one similarity but his voice isn't harsh and there might even the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips.

You lean back in your seat with the shake of your head and a gentle smile. This is going to eat at him for a while but you hope Bruce will come back. Maybe after you take out Crane, Dick will be able to find him and him and Jason can go get him. Maybe Jason getting to see Bruce after all of this will ease some of his guilt. You've had talks about it. You know him being fooled into thinking Bruce didn't avenge him isn't his entire motive. Jason always felt like Bruce could do more and this is doing more. It doesn't make it easy for him or make him feel better, but you know there's always more to Jason's motives than something surface-level.

Once you get to the armory, the three of you enter with ease. There are no guards this time. There's no one even here, just the three of you which allows you to walk right up to the vault. The entire city is in a bit of chaos, using up any force that might have been here. It's not ideal for everyone else, but it is definitely beneficial to you, Jason, and Dick right about now.

You reach the vault door where Jason takes the lead, lining the door with a sort of liquid that then ignites and breaks the seals of the door, fire almost engulfing the door until it hits the floor. Jason is the first one to step inside, his gun pointed forward with a flashlight on top. You follow right behind him with your own flashlight and then Dick.

"Let's go." Dick says once he gets in front of you and Jason, leading the way to case you need.

Dick opens the case only for nothing to be inside besides a book called Collected Poems by Will Auden.

"I don't get it. There's supposed to be like two hundred ampules." Jason states with frustration. "What the fuck is that?"

Dick reaches forward and grabs the book. "Bright and darkened lands of the Earth." Dick states, looking at the book.

You and Jason look between each other and then back to Dick. Of all things for Dick to understand, a random book of poems is the thing he understands. Of course, he does.

"What are you talking about?" Jason asks.

"Crane's poem." Dick states as he opens the book, flipping to somewhere in the middle. "His war on Gotham."

Jason snatches the book back, you looking over his arm to see the page Dick opened.

"Fuck." Jason groans.

Crane's already beat you here. It has to be some sort of gloat thing he's doing, like he's already two steps ahead of you. He's been two steps ahead this whole time and his war on Gotham is now in full swing. What are you all supposed to do if you can't locate the bombs and disable them? What if Crane is already out there ready to blow up the city?

"What are we supposed to do now?" You ask, looking up to Dick.

Dick pauses for a second, looking to the empty case and then back to you and Jason. "Let's go. I have an idea." Dick says quickly before he turns and heads towards the exit.

The three of you head back to the car, taking back your seats as Dick immediately starts driving. You're watching him and you're fascinated by how quickly Dick can change directions. Not a single part of you is surprised but you are fascinated by it. He was trained by Batman. To be out there, as a vigilante, you have to know how to pivot immediately. Dick is really good at it. So, is Jason. It's something the two of them have in common. The ability to adapt to anything and everything, even when everything is covered in bloody chaos.

"One poem, multiple bombs." Dick starts. "Clues to where the bombs are are placed in the poems."

"What's the plan?" Jason asks, his stare on Dick hoping Dick does actually have some sort of backup plan.

"Find some supers and stop the bombs from going off." Dick says it almost casually as if it's something so simple and easy.

"Titans?" Jason scoffs. "What are they gonna do when they see me?"

Jason knows there is no way the Titans are going to welcome him back with open arms and trust him just because Dick and you say he's safe now. Gar might but Kory, Conner, and Rachel won't. He's been actively targeting them and he killed Hank. They're not just going to forget that and move on like nothing happened. They'll likely try and kill him the second they see him at this point. He got Dick killed.

"They're not." Dick states, revving the engine before pulling over at a curb.

"What's going on?" Jason asks once the car is stopped.

"Get out." Dick states.

"Out?" Jason asks, hurt covering his voice.

"I can't bring you back to the Titans. It'll cause a war." Dick explains. "But I do need you."

"So, I'm your dirty little secret?" Jason quips.

"You want to help us, this is the way it's gonna be. I can only fight one war at a time."

You remain silent, not daring to get in the middle of the two of them. It's the smart decision because there's no way everyone will trust him. Everyone will start fighting and arguing and nothing will get done. Crane will win just because there's a fight between the Titans, which is probably what he wants anyway. It might hurt Jason, but it is the only way this can even work.

"When do you need me?" Jason agrees with a bit of reluctance in his voice.

"If you don't hear from me before, meet me back here in three hours. Got it?" Dick asks.

"Yeah." Jason says quietly.

"You, too." Dick looks back at you.

"Why do I have to get out?" You let out a scoff as Jason quickly looks back at you, wondering what you did this time to piss off the rest of the Titans.

"Safety, precautions, you two work well together." Dick states. "Three hours."

"Got it." You nod your head once before you exit the vehicle with Jason.

Once your doors are shut, Dick drives off. You look over to him and Jason dodges your stare, looking to the side. It's the shame that's eating at him. Falling for all of Crane's lies, getting Dick killed, having to be kept a secret. He was once a Titan and now they can't know he's even helping. Instead, Dick has you here because you work well together, sure, but also to make sure Jason doesn't back out of it. He's not even mad because he'd do the same thing but it hurts and he feels so painfully guilty for everything. He's destroyed everything.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head to the right. "Safe house is close." Jason starts walking, helmet in hand while Sam follows him.

The silence between you builds like a sturdy brick wall. It's in the silence that you have time to process everything. It's always the silence that acts as a marinade for all things fueled with anger and misery. Dick might be alive and Jason might be alive but Jason is the reason Dick died in the first place. He could have stopped. For two seconds, Jason could have called a truce and he didn't and Dick died for it. There never would have been a crowd. The kid with the gun wouldn't have been there and Dick wouldn't have gotten shot. Jason didn't pull the trigger, but he didn't have to. Dick stood there and told Jason the reason Dick won't kill him is because he knows what it's like to die. Well, so does Jason so why the fuck didn't Jason take that into consideration?

You know it was the drug but it bites and gnaws at you anyway because watching everyone you care about die is hacking away at you.

"You alright?" Jason finally asks. You being completely silent never sits quite well with him. There is nothing that sounds more deadly than your silence in moments like these.

"I don't know, Jay. I just watched Dick die and come back to life. What the fuck do you think?" You snap without processing your thought.

"The fuck you mad at me for now?" Jason snaps back. "I didn't pull the fucking trigger. I went there to talk." Jason barks, really not wanting to be reprimanded at the moment. He knows.

"You know what? You might as well have, Jason." You snap, your steps becoming harder against the pavement. "You could have stopped at any point and told him you just wanted to talk and explain it but you didn't. Not one part of you decided to do that. And for the life of me, I can't figure out why. So, Dick was killed because of that. You didn't do it. But that kid thinks he did the right thing to protect you. Dick wasn't even the enemy. So, that's shit." You let your own anger get the best of you, not even to tear him a part for it but just because you need to yell about it.

"It's not my fucking fault." Jason groans. "I didn't ask anyone to do that." Jason defends himself, knowing he's wrong.

"You don't have to!" You finally yell. "People will follow you like a damn cult because you command attention when you walk into a room. You are charismatic and enthralling. They have always been some of your best qualities but in this instance, it wasn't good. They believe in you, Jay." You look back over to him as Jason hangs his head, watching his feet hit the wet pavement. "But, Crane turned the city against the Titans, to follow you." You look forward as you shake your head. "I know I told you to work with him, but it didn't have to get to you and Dick fighting and him dying. It never had to end that way. You could turn them back to the right side." Your voice goes quiet with your last sentence earning you a glance from Jason.

"I didn't think he'd listen, alright? He was the one that set up the flash bang and came in ready for a fight. I didn't think it was any use and I didn't know those fucking people would be there. I..." Jason swallows his own words, not wanting to get into it.

You being willing to die for him is one thing. He hates it. He'd never let you if he could help it, especially having experienced what it's like to die. He would never. But, you love him. You have seen him at his good and bad. You've seen everything in between. Jason has fully exposed all of himself to you in every way anyone possibly could. And you would die for him. You would kill for him. No questions asked because you know Jason Todd better than he knows himself half the time. But these random people? They don't know him. Why the fuck would they kill someone for him? Why would they do that?

"I'm sorry, alright?" Jason's voice comes back down. "I know. I could have fucking done something and I didn't." Jason's saw clenches. "I'm fucking trying." His words are firm but there's a hopelessness in them.

"I know." You say quietly.

"I have a lot to make up for and I don't know if I'm gonna be able to do but I promise, I'm trying. I just...fucked it up." Jason's breath leaves his lips, the fog coming out in a haunting blow.

"I know...I just..." You shake your head. "I'm just really worried about all of you, all the time. You, Gar, Dick. You guys are the closest people to me besides Molly and I just...you're very important to me and this could be something so good and it was." You suck in a breath, the cold air starting to dry out your throat. "And I think we all deserve it. The Titans."

"Yeah..." Jason's shoulders slouch forward. "You do." Jason says quietly, keeping his stare ahead him even as you look over to him.

You've always deserved better than anything Gotham has given you. All this city has done is take everything you care about. And you only even started killing because of him. Even when Jason knows there's more to it, that was your breaking point. You're not shunned from being a Titan and maybe that'd be better for you.

"If you want to be a Titan after all of this, you should." Jason states in his way where he tries to sound really casual to hide his real feelings.

You snap your attention back to him. "Why would I do that?" You nearly scoffs at the very idea, especially coming from him.

"You're good at it and you like it. They like you and you fit in." Jason answers with ease, as if it were something he'd thought about more than a few times. "Why trap yourself here if you don't have to?"

It's as if the air is being pulled from your lungs by rusty hooks. How could he say that? He's here. Home is here. Molly is here. It's not a trap being in Gotham. Coming back, coming home, was a choice you made all on your own and not a single ounce of you even regrets it. You can't regret it. You got to reunite with Molly and while it has been agonizing lately, you had some of your best and favorite moments with Jason here. You got to make a different life again. It felt like home again. Here. Not in San Francisco. Why would he tell you to be a Titan?

"You want me to be a Titan?" You ask, doing your best to hide the hurt in your voice.

"Not up to me." Jason shrugs his shoulders casually, still keeping his stare away from you.

"That's not what I asked." You bite back, keeping your stare on him.

Jason looks back over to you as you reach the building. Jason opens the door for you, leading you in first before he shuts and locks the door behind you. You stand directly in front of him so he can't move once the door is shut. He doesn't get to avoid this conversation when he's the one that brought it up. If he wants you to leave, then he can tell you and then deal with the fact you will not.

"Answer me." You demand.

Jason looks to the right before looking back at you. He always thought you would anyway. After everything, it only makes sense to him for you to leave. You said San Francisco caused you so much pain that you didn't want to be there anymore. But, Gotham has caused you so much pain, you're not even the same person you were a month ago. He doesn't want you to leave but he wants you to be happy and he worries that just won't be here. Not with the track record.

"I always thought you would." Jason shrugs as his voice almost trails off.

"Because?" You search as your brows furrow. "What? I'd get bored of you? Tired of you?" Your eyes scan his face, knowing all of his insecurities. He can't hide from you like he can with everyone else.

Jason looks to the ground and back to you with the shrug of his shoulders. "No." Jason answers. "You didn't come back for me. Thought you'd figure it out and just...go back."

You narrow your eyes. "That's not the full reason." You say softly. "Tell me."

Jason shifts his weight, favoring his bad leg as it starts to ache. He shakes his head with defeat. "Just want you to be happy." Jason says honestly. "This place is fucking shit and you know it. And you hate Bruce but you don't wanna give this up. Bruce doesn't like other vigilantes in the city and..." Jason's heart breaks as he watches your expression fall. "Yeah, I thought you'd leave." Jason nods his head.

"Jay, I told--"

"Because I died." Jason cuts you off with a scoff. "That day on the roof, I fucking destroyed you. I died and it completely destroyed you. When you found out about the drug and Crane, then everything else, I thought you'd fucking leave."

"Yeah," You nod quickly as your eyes turn glassy. "It did destroy me. The whole damn thing hurt but that doesn't mean I want to leave. It doesn't mean I want to be a Titan." Your voice is almost pleading with him to not push without you ever saying it. "This is my home and Molly is here and my mom is buried here and you are here. I don't care if we're not together, you're here. The city is a shitshow so it needs us. It needs us and Batman to help."

"Are you sure?" Jason questions. "I mean, look at this place. I just want you to be happy. I don't fucking know."

You let out a sigh. "You didn't answer the question." You state as Jason opens his mouth. "I asked if you wanted me to. You just said you always thought I'd leave."

Jason shakes his head. "Of course not." Jason lets out a scoff, not even trying to lie or dodge it anymore.

"Good cause I'm not leaving, Jay." You nod your head. "I was always happiest here with you." Your words are barely above a whisper as you look to the floor. "So," You pull in a breath. "You don't have that to worry about. I was gonna stay anyway, no plans to leave again. Tired of running." Your voice turns airy, almost hopeful with your last sentence.

"I don't get you." Jason lets out a laugh that's filled with relief.

"Yeah, you do." You laugh softly. "You're the only one whoever did." You shrug your shoulders, moving past him to the stairs. "You know, you and Dick could probably bond over your whole dying experience now. Probably bring you closer." You offer with sarcasm earning a groan and then a laugh as Jason walks over to you.

"Oh, yeah? We sit down for a family dinner at the manor and tell Bruce all about it? Like a fucking field trip?" Jason quips right back as the two of you make your way upstairs.

"Yeah!" You laugh. "Hear me out, it might freak Bruce out which would be funny."

Jason shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "Us getting along? Yeah, that'll freak Bruce out."

You nudge him lightly. "That'll freak everyone out, actually."

The two of you go upstairs into Jason's makeshift bedroom. You head over to the window to look at the people down below. Everyone is fending for themselves and there are still fires in the streets. There aren't any cars this time. There are always cars.

You lean against the wall and slide down, keeping your head turned towards the window as Jason keeps his distance, watching you closely as he traps himself in his own head again. While you have been on Jason's side, you've also actively been trying to make sure the Titans are at a distance and safe from Jason. You can say you've always been on Jason's side this whole time and maybe that's true, but you also were entirely in the middle. It was never Titans or Jason for you. You were always determined to cut the wire. It was always going to be all of them even if it killed you.

Jason remembers you willing to die for him, how terrifying that was. No one in his entire life was ever willing to do that. Maybe Bruce would have but it's something Jason isn't sure of. He was sure of you. Deathstroke proved that and you confirmed it that night. You would die for him because you love him and Jason always thought that was absurd, even if he'd die for you, too. Dying for you seemed to be the easiest thing he would do if it came to it. But you dying for him? Insane. It had to be insanity but these past two weeks have taught him something else entirely.

You would just die for anyone you loved if that's what it took.

There is not a doubt in Jason's mind that you would put your life in danger for Gar. Of course, you would. He's Gar. Everyone would probably do it. There's Molly and Jason actually feels bad for anyone who would even think of coming after her. You'd die for Tim because of course you would. You care about him and Tim is determined and smart. Krypto is no question. You loved Donna and thought she was the coolest Titan, that's easy. You thought Kory was one of the coolest and most badass people you'd ever met while also being immensely kind. You told Jason once that the Titans need her. So, you'd die for her, too. Jason isn't entirely sure of the big reason you'd save Conner or Dawn or Hank but he knows you would. And then there's Dick. You'd save Dick because he's the leader. Because he saved your life. Because you look up to him. Because he's important to everyone.

It's not that you would die for Jason. It's that you would die for anyone you love if it ever came to it. Jason would be lying if he said he doesn't admire that. Though, he wonders if that's what will be your last straw or if you'll understand one day that you shouldn't have to die for the people you care about. Jason swore he'd die for you. That part was easy but the more time that passes, the more he's realizing he wants to live for you. Living is harder. He hopes you learn that, too. You deserve to want to live for someone and for yourself.

"What's with the symbol?" You snap Jason from his thoughts.

"What?" Jason questions, almost doing a double take.

"The rip off bat symbol. Your idea or Crane's?" You ask bluntly as your eyes dart between his and the red symbol on his chest.

Jason looks down to his chest where the red symbol stares up at him. "Mine." Jason chuckles softly, a devilish grin pushing itself onto his lips. "Why?" He asks and he walks over to the other side of the window from you, sliding down the wall and matching your position.

You let out a soft laugh as you shrug. "Funny that's what you would pick given you thought he didn't kill the Joker for you." You pull in a breath. "Why?"

Jason shrugs. "Fuck Bruce." Jason answers easily as if the answer were so simple anyone could have figured it out, as if he isn't neglecting the entire explanation.

The bat symbol represents Bruce's way of thinking. Inciting fear into the hearts of everyone so they don't do bad things. It works, sometimes. But, it doesn't work enough. The bat symbol represents a certain moral compass where even under the worst of circumstances, killing is still wrong. It represents Bruce. Jason wanted something to almost mock him, a fuck you and watch this to Bruce. Fear doesn't always work. It's not the best way. For Jason, he needed something to spite Bruce, prove his methods will be better because there should never be another Jason. Or Dick. Or any of them. No one should have to suffer the way all of them have. It was to represent everything Bruce refused to do for the greater good.

But Bruce did kill The Joker so Jason feels lost.

But then you offer this warm smile, one that says you understand every single thought in his mind without him ever having to explain.

"Yeah..." You sigh softly. "Fuck Bruce." You laugh softly. "I like it, by the way. Bruce only killed him for you. He never would have under any other circumstances." You pause before you tilt your head to the left quickly, raise your brows. "Well, he might have for Dick, too. But, it would have to be one of you. So...good for you, Jay." You nod your head softly.

"Don't think it's fucked?" Jason chortles.

"Oh, no it definitely is." You nod quickly. "I mean, just when I think I've got some daddy issues, I meet you and Dick. It's definitely fucked. But, like it anyway." You smile but Jason doesn't quite match it. There's a sadness washing itself over his face. "I think Gotham will like it, too." You say quietly.

"Yeah? Why?" Jason repositions, pulling his right leg to his chest. "Because I'm charismatic and enthralling?" A touch of a grin finds itself on his lips.

"Fuck you, no." You laugh softly. "They're brainwashed but...I think it took one video because you've already been out there controlling the drug trade, looking to get into guns. You've taken out some really terrible people and are trying to get this shit under control. They already liked you."

"I also helped get a drug onto the streets and contributed to everything with Crane." Jason points out.

"Yeah, but you've been distancing yourself and you also tried to save Nightwing. I mean, you tried to kill him, too but you just tried to save him and they'll remember that. They'll figure out Crane brainwashed them and see you were also brainwashed."

"I guess we'll see." Jason lets out a scoff. "But, thanks." Jason offers you a nod.

"Just being honest." You pull in a breath as you move your stare back to the window. "You gonna keep Red Hooding after this is over then?" You look back at him with hopeful eyes.

Jason shrugs. "Yeah, maybe." Jason nods his head softly. "Especially with Bruce fucking MIA." Jason gives you a soft smile. "You gonna keep this shit up?"

"Absolutely." You nod with confidence. "You're right, I do like it. The vigilantism, I mean." Your smile turns kind and loving. "You're a good Red Hood. You're gonna help a lot of people, Jay." Your smile is warm and honest, filling Jason's entire chest with hope.

"So are you." Jason matches the smile before the two of you look to the window, falling into a comfortable silence.

You get a text from Dick, apparently, the towers are back and running which is a relief but according to his text, Crane released some of his smoke downtown. He leaves the text with a warning for you and Jason to stay where you are until the smoke dies down or until he says otherwise. So, the two of you seem to be stuck here for the night.

You're safe here, entirely. You don't have to worry about the smoke or anyone coming to kill you. You're safe from it all for the first time in weeks and it's as if, weirdly as it is, you both can breathe freely. It doesn't feel like your very breath can shatter the illusion of peace. You both are allowed to breathe freely and openly.

You let your mind wander anywhere but to the disaster outside. The more you're in these situations, the more you're learning to compartmentalize it. There is no choice in this. It has to be done otherwise it'll eat you. You wonder how Dick is able to do it so well. Surely that's how he's so good at being Nightwing. He isn't heartless, he just shelves what he needs to until after a mission. It's something you need to be better at and so you sit here tonight and try to do it. You focus on anything but the disaster.

And then there's Jason who finds his mind going to your previous conversation a few minutes ago. You think he can be a hero again. He can use Red Hood for good, do it his own way. He lifts his head, looking over at you and how peaceful you look. You really do trust him. You really do just believe in him, after everything, there's something in you that believes in him even when you absolutely should not.

Jason keeps his eyes on you, wondering if you're right. He hopes you are. Jason just wants to help. That's what he wants to do. That's all he's wanted to do. That was supposed to be the plan before Crane showed his true motive. Jason wants to help the innocent people Bruce overlooks. Sex workers, sexual assault victims, domestic violence survivors, children who are put in all of these situations. A lot of them never make it onto Bruce's radar. He's busy dealing with everything else and a lot more of it happens in places like Crime Alley, somewhere Bruce doesn't go unless it's the anniversary of his parents' death. Someone needs to keep them safe, too. He wants to control the crime because he does believe that's the right way. No one can stop crime. That's impossible. But, Jason thinks he can control it. It's worth a shot. Someone needs to try. That's what he wants to do.

Maybe he can do it.

"I can feel you staring at me, Jay." You state as you look back over at him.

"Sorry." Jason mutters, feeling heat rush over his cheeks as he looks back outside.

"What's going inside that head of yours?" You ask.

Jason looks back to you, letting a beat pass before he settles on what to say. "Thanks for believing in me and being here." Jason pulls in a breath.

"Always." You say softly before it goes quiet again.

Time ticks by and it's you that ends up glancing towards Jason. He's holding his bad leg to his chest, seeming to be absentmindedly massaging the muscle of his thigh with his thumbs as he keeps his stare out the window. The white streak reflects off the lights from the window and the bruises are bright red from Dick's fists and enimga sticks. But, he doesn't look stressed this time. He looks content for once. And you always think there's hope for him but his position confirms it.

Which, lets your mind wander back to how you and him were. It wanders back to the night outside Excellent Gotham. It was the right thing to do. There is good, there is bad, and there is all of this grey in between. Something might be the right thing to do, for the greater good, to save someone, but that doesn't always make it fair or just or painless. It was the right thing to do, to save Jason. But, you wonder in the silence of the night, what happens after then. The bell has been rung and you're dealing with it but it doesn't feel good. Being around him feels like you're trying to breathe through water. You don't want to give up on you and him. You're gonna take out Crane, the Titans are going to leave, Bruce will probably come back, and it'll start to fall back into a new normal. And you want to know what kind of new normal that's going to be.

You want the new normal to still be you and him.

But you don't even want to ask about it. You hurt him and it just doesn't feel right to ask even if it'll gnaw at you until you do.

"I can feel you staring." Jason quips, looking at you, saying it on purpose.

You roll your eyes but the smile never reaches your eyes before it falls. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." You mock him, waving a hand haphazardly at him before you get to your feet and stretch before you lean your back against the wall. You look back at Jason and you can tell by the raise of his brows and his wide eyes, he's expecting you to elaborate. You let out a defeated sigh. "Hey, Jay?"

"Yes?" Jason answers expectantly.

"Where do we stand?" You ask bluntly. "I mean....you and me." You nod once. "After all of this and everything. I'll follow your lead." You nod a few times. "Ball's in your court this time."

As much as you would like to go to the roof and scream your lungs out about how much you want to be with him and how much you love him, you know you can't. None of that is fair to him. Jason Todd was murdered and then came back from the dead. He was used and abused and manipulated. He's not fine and he should be able to learn how to live now, rediscover who he is after all of this if he needs to. You telling him you want to go right back to where you were before he died, sounds cruel. It's as if you won't give him a choice, like you expect him to just be normal and you don't. So, you ask him and you let it be his decision because it should be. It was you that ended things anyway and it was you that betrayed him, more than he betrayed you is the way you see it.

Jason feels his heart in his throat. He hates this but he knows there is no other choice. He swears this one fucking time, he is not doing it to push. He is doing it for himself and for you. He owes you more. He owes you more than he has ever given you. He owes himself more.

You have said it over and over that Jason is loved and he is not alone, at the very least, he has you and he is loved by you. There is not a single day that he is not eternally grateful for you. But, that's not enough. It's not enough because, after everything, Jason still feels like he is not enough. He watches the chaos he has brought on all of these people who he cares about and who care about him. Someone who is enough, doesn't do that. And he died. The trauma of that isn't going to go away because you love him and he loves you. He desperately wishes it were so simple, but it's not.

Jason swore he would never hurt you but he thinks about that night outside of Excellent Gotham and how it looked like it was ripping you to shreds to end things and to give up on him, even if you never meant it. You didn't deserve it. He needs to figure himself out and sort out some of this pain in his chest before it metastasizes more. He needs to just exist for a second and work on who he is after coming back. He owes it to himself and then he owes it to you. It's not fair to continue something if he isn't sure he'll be okay in the end of this. That's not fair to either of you.

So, as much as it physically pains him, he knows where you stand.

"Uh..." Jason pulls in a breath and you know. Jason doesn't stutter often. "I really fucking hurt you." Jason nods his head.

"I hurt you..." You hang your head in shame before looking back to him.

"Yeah, deserved it though." Jason lets out a scoff before he shakes his head. "Look," Jason starts as he pushes himself off the wall and walks over to you, standing in front of you. "I don't want to ever hurt you again." Jason states and you know there is a but coming. This is not going to end the way you dreamed it would. "So, I think-think we need to sort our shit out."

You hang your head, feeling the lump in your throat. It was as if the night you ended things, it wasn't quite real. He was high and you were mad. Then you rescued him and it's been kind of weird ever since. It didn't feel quite like you broke up but it didn't feel like you were together. It has felt like this weird state of in-between where you're tripping over each other trying to find the right footing. And now, it seems you've found it in an unknown territory. It's scary.

It's scary because after being rescued, Jason is one of the only things you know. And you know that it's going to be good for you to find yourself without him, find out who you are outside of Jason and the Titans. It's for the best and you know. But, you also know Jason and Jason Todd has always loved to avoid things that are good for him. Good to him. What if he avoids this forever and this is really it?

"I'm sorry." Jason says quietly.

"It's okay." You nod up at him. "You're, uh, you're right. You died."

As much as you saw it coming, you feel blindsided. You are not together. He is not breaking up with you because you did it first. But, it feels that way anyway. He is right. You need time and space to heal and deal with everything that's happened. Maybe you could do that together but maybe you need to figure out who you are now. You are not the same people you were before he died. Jason Todd died that day and so did you. You need to just exist without each other even if it is the most painful thing either of you will ever do.

Jason nods. "Yeah," He scoffs. "It's not fucking fair to you or me if we jump into this shit again."

You nod softly. "Yeah...you're right." You push off the wall, closing the distance between you. "For what it's worth, I'm still sorry for everything that's happened to you, Jay." You sniffle softly.

"Thanks. I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you, too." Jason lets out a soft sigh, looking to the floor before he looks back to you. He will find his way back to you because you're everything he's ever wanted and he wants to deserve you one day. "Friends?" He asks, sticking out his hand with the quick raise of his brows.

"For now." You take his hand in yours. "We'll find our way back." You say softly but with certainty.

"Hope so." Jason quips right back with a cheeky grin. "I'll miss you being up my ass all the time."

You roll your eyes as a smile starts to fade over your lips. "Shut the fuck up." You groan, making Jason chuckle softly. "You're my favorite person, ya know?"

"And you're mine." Jason says simply, without hesitance.

The room falls silent, the two of you still holding each other's hand right in the middle of you. It's as if you aren't sure how to backtrack. How do you go back to being friends? You were never meant to be friends. There was always something more there. Something strong and tender, throbbing and beating like a desperate heart pumping blood through an open artery. You have stained each other with every scar and crumb of yours. How do you take it back? How do you cleanse yourselves and try again? Can you even do it?

Jason's grip on your hand tightens and he doesn't want to leave it like that. As friends. The very idea is bitter and stale. He knows it's for the best. For the first time in his life, he is doing something to better himself and protect you. It's not just self-destruction this time. He wants to be better for himself. He never wants to get here again. And to do that, he needs to do it on his own. Jason won't risk dragging you down with him again as he drowns himself. He's not sure if he'll come out the other end alive this time, but he's willing to try for himself. And then for you. But, that doesn't make this whole thing easier. He still loves you. He still wants you.

You feel it, too. You know he wants to reach forward, pull you into him just for old times sake. You're going to defeat Crane tonight, one way or another, and then you'll go your separate ways for a little bit...as friends. But you think about the last time you had a proper kiss, before you knew you'd end up here. He was alive again. It was a kiss of relief. That's not how you want it to end. You fully believe you will come together again but what if you don't?

The idea makes your stomach twist into knots. And you know Jason isn't going to act on it, out of respect for you. It's the way his hand squeezes yours, the way he won't let go and how he has that dark but kind look in his eyes. The way he is intentionally holding his stance just enough away as if he'll walk into a bear trap with one step forward. He'll never act on it out of respect for your space so when Jason finally starts to move away, you pull him back.

Jason eyes you and then the very corner of your mouth twitches up as you squeeze his hand, pulling him just a little closer to you. You move your eyes up with the raise of your brows before looking back to him and then you shrug effortlessly.

Jason shakes his head. "Fuck it." Jason lets out in a single breath before dropping your hand and cupping your face, slamming his lips against yours.

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sarahsmi13s · 7 months

Text

I Just Need Quiet

whumptober day 3: overstimulation

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x sarah grant (plus size fem!oc)

characters: jake seresin, sarah grant, sarah's family

warnings: overstimutaion, family gatherings, holidays, crying, please let me know if i missed anything

word count: ~1.5k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

this is also apart of my oc series j and s so the tag list for that is included! and this is based on my own personal experience in this situation

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: family can be a lot, especially around the holidays, and it's okay to take a break when it gets too much... sometimes you just need quiet, and that's okay.

“Okay, so what do I need to know about your family?” Jake asked Sarah as they got ready.

She laughed as she curled her hair, “Well, first thing is, you never bring up the Longhorns. That alone is a death sentence.” Jake chuckled and nodded as he looked through his clothes for a shirt, “Noted. Anything else?”

Sarah sighed a little, “The house is gonna get pretty cramped. So it can get hot in the house, and it won’t take long for it to get loud. I know you come from a big family too, probably bigger since both sides are big, but you usually have it in a bigger house than this. And we might have about 20-40 people in this house, so it might get crowded.”

Jake nodded, “Got it.” He came over and kissed her head, “I’m really excited to meet them. And apologize for not being at Thanksgiving.” She hummed softly and turned to peck his lips, “You had to go back to base, they’ll understand.”

He smiled and pecked her lips again and again before moving to go take a shower while Sarah got dressed.

A few hours later, Jake was pulling into Sarah’s aunt’s driveway and parking next to her sister’s truck.

“Alright, hopefully they like me,” Jake chuckled, squeezing Sarah’s hand. She smiled at him, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Cowboy.”

He pecked her lips before getting out and racing around the truck to get to her side before she could open her door.

“Such a gentleman,” she giggled as he helped her out of his truck. “Anything for you, Sugar,” he said with a wide smile before kissing her forehead. She kissed his cheek and they both grabbed the things they brought before heading inside.

Sarah walked in first, thanking Jake as he held open the glass door for her.

She turned and waited for him to join her before announcing their arrival.

“Oh, well look who’s here! And she brought a friend.”

Sarah laughed, “Hi Aunt San.” She gave her aunt a hug before turning to Jake, “This is Jake, he’s my boyfriend.” Her aunt’s eyes widened a little, “This is your pilot?” Sarah nodded and felt Jake come up behind her. “Jake, this is my Aunt San.” He smiled and gave her a hug, “It’s nice to finally meet you.” His eyes scanned the house, “And it seems I have plenty of people to meet.”

Aunt San nodded, “You sure do, but I’m first so that’s what’s important.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and laughed, “Oh um, Jake has the food, will you show him to the kitchen while I put the gifts up?” “Oh of course, follow me Jake.”

Jake nodded and followed Sarah’s aunt to the kitchen as she went to the living room.

As she walked into the room she smiled and greeted everyone, talking as she put the presents in the respective bins.

She glanced around, finding very little room to sit and feeling that pressure building in her chest already. Seriously Sarah, you just got here, she thought to herself as the voices started to muddle together.

Sending a smile to everyone, she left to go find Jake so she could do the rounds of hellos and introduce him to her family before they started to eat.

It didn’t take long after their arrival for dinner to start. After that they played bingo until all the gifts were gone and then they brought out other games while eating the rest of the finger foods that were left.

Jake and Sarah sat at the table, Jake playing spoons with Sarah’s uncles, her sister, Elizabeth, and a few of her cousins. Sarah was just sitting there next to him, resting against him and watching the game and drinking ice water.

At first he thought nothing of it, thinking that she was only talking when she addressed to not mess up his game and distract him. But she was unusually flushed, fanning herself a few times and pulling her hair off her neck into a bun. She was taking deep calculated breaths, he could feel her chest moving against his arm.

But when she sat up and started to shake out her hands, popping her knuckles and flexing her fingers, he knew something was off.

“Sugar… are you alright?” Jake asked her quietly as Elizabeth was shuffling the cards and setting the spoons back up. “Mhm,” she nodded, not looking up from where she was picking at her nails. “You sure?” “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She was mumbling, and if Jake knew anything it was that if Sarah mumbled… she wasn’t fine.

He went to say something else but was dealt a hand and the next game started.

This round he’s distracted. Glancing between his cards and her the whole time, picking up on her rhythmically tapping her fingers on her thumbs – index to pinky then pinky to index. She was inhaling through her nose and out through her mouth as her eyes stayed on the table.

Before he can say anything, the sounds of flat palms smacking the kitchen table and then a few loud shouts and laughs from those that managed to get a spoon.

Jake’s attention is pulled to that, realizing that he missed getting a spoon. But he didn’t really care, something was up with his girlfriend and she wasn’t telling him.

“Dang… that’s alright, I was getting tired of winning anyway,” Jake commented, toothpick moving to the side of his mouth as he chuckled and tossed his cards down. The table laughed and set up another round.

As they did this, Jake turned to Sarah to talk to her but found her getting up and walking towards the front door, attempting to discreetly wipe her eyes but Jake noticed it.

Confused, Jake turned to Elizabeth, “Hey, do you know what’s wrong? I asked but she said she was fine…” She sighed, “I think she’s just a little overwhelmed, it happens.” Jake nodded, humming to himself and he looked over to the door, thinking of how he could help.

Sarah sat down on the porch swing, trying to delicately wipe her tears so she didn’t smudge her makeup.

“Damn it…” She swore under her breath, shaking her hands out and trying to calm down.

She hated that this happened more often than she would like to admit. She loved being with her family, but sometimes it was just too much.

With everyone having to be close and everyone talking, it got hot quickly and it got loud.

Now she could handle loud, she was a coach – loud things weren’t uncommon. But it was loud conversations. Her brain was trying to listen to everyone and it all just muddled in her mind and it affected everything else.

Sometimes the lights would be too bright or the different scents of food mingling made her brain foggy, that mixed with the heat and the volume of the room – it was too much stimulation at once.

So she always just went outside, letting Arkansas’s freezing December weather bite the heat off her skin. It wasn’t loud outside either, just the muffled sounds of people talking inside and the cars on the highway in front of the house.

She sat there for a few minutes, her eyes closed and she tried to take even breaths and keep the tears in their ducts.

But then she heard the door open and looked over to see Jake come out, holding his Carhartt coat in his hand.

“Hey,” he greeted gently, coming over to her on the bench. “What’s wrong?” Sarah shook her head as she moved on the bench to give him room. “It’s nothi-”

“Sarah, I know you. What’s wrong?”

She sighed and let her head fall into her hands as Jake sat next to her. He rubbed her back, waiting patiently for her to talk.

“It’s too much. It’s really loud and really hot and there’s a lot of smells, the lights are too damn bright… I just…” She sighed, tears slipping down her face as she leaned on Jake’s shoulder as she talked.

“I just need quiet…”

Jake nodded, resting his cheek on her head, “I understand. I can go back–” “No, please stay…” He nodded again and put an arm around her back and on the arm rest. Using his other hand, he pulled Sarah’s legs into his lap.

He held up his jacket, inside facing the both of them. “Put your arm in the sleeve,” he told her, nodding to the sleeve hole closest to her. “What, w-” “Trust me, just do it,” he said with a playful grin.

Sarah sighed and slid her arm in the sleeve, looking at Jake to see him doing the same thing.

Jake then gently pushed her head into his shoulder and kissed her forehead.

“Jake… Darlin’, what are you doing?”

“You need quiet, so we’re gonna have quiet… now shhh and just snuggle.”

She couldn’t help but giggle as she inhaled the faint scent of hay, leather, bergamot, and whiskey that seemed infused with the fibers of the jacket. The scent that always seemed to calm her down.

“Thank you, Jake…”

“I love you, Sugar.”

“I love you too, Cowboy.”

whumptober taglist: @valmare @bradleybeachbabe @fanboyswhore9 @cassiemitchell @startrekfangirl2233 @nightowlalltheway @86laura11

j and s taglist: @milesdickpic @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia @mayhemmanaged @nobody7102 @djs8891 @kmc1989 @marbledaesthetics @penguin876 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bellaireland1981 @memeorydotcom @whatislovevavy @coffeewithcal @showthemwhoyouare-6 @matisse556

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

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finemeal · 3 months

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AO3 Etiquette

Alright, y’all, you already know what I’m about to say. But go ahead get some water, something to eat, take your meds, and whatever else you need to do as I go into this. Ready? Good.

I’ve seen far too many users on AO3 being rude and saying things that I’m not even sure they understand is rude.

If you’ve done these things, don’t sweat it too much. As long as you learn and do better, that’s what’s important. I don’t wanna make anyone feel bad, but I want to make y’all AWARE.

So let’s talk about some basic etiquette for interacting on AO3.

(Disclaimer: not every AO3 author is going to agree. Some are okay with some of these things, some aren’t. Let’s just play on the safe side yeah?)

Comment Etiquette

Listen, we’ve all left comments on fics we like. But here’s the thing, some of us don’t realize what comments are rude or not.

Comments that pass the vibe check:

Hearts

Something you liked about the story

Saying you enjoyed the story

Excited to see more from an author (not demanding an update, not asking for more, just genuine excitement for whatever the author has in store)

Anything that is genuinely nice

Theories on what you think will happen (not necessarily what you want or hope happens)

Comments that do not pass the vibe check:

DEMANDING an update

Treating fic authors like content pumps and not real people who do this in their free time

Critiquing the story

Saying how they should’ve written something different

Constructive criticism that the author did NOT ask for

Saying things that are purposefully antagonistic

Trolling

Anything that if someone said to you about something you worked hard on you would think was rude

Dogging on how a character was written

Comments that are WILDLY different from the tone of the story (i.e leaving a graphically violent comment on a story that does not feature graphic violence)

Any mention on how long it’s been since they’ve updated — you’re gonna make your wait longer

This one is more of a personal ick but any “want to see” comments, specifically on one-shots (I want you to enjoy what I’ve written, not talk about stories you hope I’ll write — unless author says that they specifically want those comments)

Honestly there’s so many comments that do not pass the vibe check I can’t even list them all. But I listed a BUNCH so, general rule of thumb is: If you’re not sure it’s rude, reach out to a friend and ask. Also, you can ask for people in the comment section to vibe check you if you’re unsure. And? If you know it’s rude and say it anyway, you’re an asshole.

ALSO: author’s will read your comments! They may not respond, but 9/10 author’s will read the comment so remember that you’re not posting into the void. And? People will call you out if you’re being rude. Don’t double down. Apologize, delete comment, move on.

Author’s talk, we will block you if you’re a raging asshole cuz we don’t need that kinda energy in our fics. And, sometimes we’ll turn off anon commenters cuz if you’re going to continue to be an asshole, and can’t even say it to our face, you din’t deserve to comment.

Bookmark Etiquette

This one is prolly gonna get a lot of people riled up and I simply don’t care. If you disagree, that’s fine, just know as an author and friends with other AO3 author’s we consider these sorts of things rude.

Bookmarks that pass the vibe check:

No comment

A nice comment with the bookmark

Private bookmarks (no matter what it’s tagged/commented with)

Nice/neutral tags

A note to self about where you left off

Bookmarks that do not pass the vibe check:

Anything rude for the comment/tag section of a bookmark — unsure what’s rude? See comment section above

Ranking the fic (see this way more often in bookmarks than anywhere else)

Unread bookmarks (not always a fail, it’s just weird? You can mark for later, why are you bookmarking my story without reading it?)

If your bookmark is private? It doesn’t matter how you tag/note it/whatever. But if it’s public? Author’s will sometimes go look at bookmarks because people will leave nice little comments that make us feel good. If you say something mean we can’t even delete it. But I can guarantee we’ll block you!

Yes, bookmarks are for the reader, but just because you didn’t intend for an author to see what you said doesn’t make it any less mean. If it’s public: shame on you. Make a bookmark that’s mean in private, then I won’t care.

Conclusion

Don’t be mean. If you don’t like a story, you don’t have to say anything. It takes more time to leave a nasty comment or bookmark something in a mean way than it does to just back out of the fic. I get it, you don’t like the fic. I don’t like every fic I read. You know what we do? We use the back button.

We’re all people, we all have lives and things going on. Just know 2024 is the year I’m no longer replying to nasty comments. I’m deleting them, blocking if I want to, and moving on.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask. Again, this post has a very aggressive tone because I’m sick of seeing mean comments on my friend’s fics. Will this stop those comments? No, but I hope it lessens them.

This truly is just about educating people. If you have any questions, anything you want to add. Feel free, pop off monarchs.

#ao3 #writer #etiquette #etiquette fails #psa #rant #please just do better

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alien-bluez · 6 months

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errrrmmm cheesed to meet you?

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wifey-ohara · 7 months

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Blood and fire, they burn the same way

Part1

Angsty miguel &teen spider!reader

Notes: mentioned characters death, nothing major, sad, mentiones of threats of violence, this one is just dull really, i should really add to it ,hobie is here!,not proof read

tag list:@mvlanchqly

4:00 am

You woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and well rested, it's been years since you had that kind of good sleep, is this what revenge feels like? Now you understand why villains hold grudges so bad

With a small smirk, you got up and got ready for your day, you didn't have anything to do today, so a day in the lab it is then, your mood got better at the decision you made.

Then it fell back down

There he was, right where you left him, leaning on the wall eyes so puffy you doubted he could open them

Pathetic

With a small huff you entered the kitchen making yourself a drink, hoping that your day wouldn't be ruined

You were almost done when you heared him a take a sharp breath,

It took a moment for him to move, standing up and walking towards you, blocking your exit,, too much for hoping you think

"Good morning " his voice was hourse, raw, painful, how much did he cry

"morning" you replied standing in front of him drink in your hand, waiting for him to move

"..H-how did you sleep?" he asked, almost shy

"good, thanks for asking" you answered

With a slight flinch he backed up, giving you room to move and go to your lab

Miguel wantched you leave and then with a click, you were gone

He wondered how hard is it gonna be, if it isn't impossible

So now, sitting in the couch his brain trying to process what happened to him in those last few days

He killed his wife and daughter because he was selfish, destroying a universe in the process

He missed his actual wife's death when she waiting for him to return, he didn't get to say goodbye, he doesn't know if he deserve to do so

And you, with you cold eyes and colder replies, pouring acid into his wounds, he deserves it, he knows he does, but he wants to do right by you, try and fix whatever shattered glass left between you two, and it seems that it'll cut him every step of the way, and he doesn't mind one bit, as long as you don't wish him dead, that's all he wants, not forgiveness, not a relationship, not love, only a middle ground, to live with you without feeling the heavy air around

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the lab door open

"thanks Ben, I'll read it and take care of it" you said getting out, a screen showing that you're on a call with ben, another saving a report

"thanks dude! I'm sorry i didnt do it last night, i was so tired i fell asleep so quick!" the voice from the screen said

"don't worry about it I'll see you next time" you said hanging up..

Then a normal door opening and closing again,, the one to your room this time

He sighed, leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling above him

What wouldn't he give for forgiveness?

And then the door knocked...

He stood up to open it, and was shocked to find..

"hobart?"

In all his punky glory, with his wide and wild hair, shiny piercings, hobart brown was at his door step

He was smirking a cocky smile, one that fell the moment he laid eyes on the taller man, soon turning into a frown as he looked miguel up and down

Miguel was still confused..

Hobie recovered quick though, pushing past him and into the house, yelling "Ayo, smartass, where you at? You're never late!" into the house, it didn't surprise miguel that much, what did surprise him was you, coming out of your room, a playful frown on your face "I can get too occupied in a project from time to time" fixing you outfit

He stood there in the middle of the living room watching you walking around, collecting your, phone, wallet and anything else someone would need for an outing, hobie behind you talking about something or the other, he didn't really care

He knows he shouldn't ask, that he has no right to do so, but the words leave his mouth, forced.

"where are you going?"

You paused midway through your quick search for your stuff, looking at him, hobie also quieted down behind you, you know it a big deal when that happens

Hobie Brown was your closest friend,(he might say that someone earns such label when you have a bunch of friends, and then choose who you let in or not, which you don't, but you'll roll your eyes every time at it anyway) knows about your fathers, rather nostalgic trip he had for 12 years, only he and lyla do, he found out when came to loot in on your snacks and found you crying, rare, yes, but possible, he asked you what was wrong and you told him, what was a talk about your mother turned into your life story, he listened the whole time, only commenting after, he had alot of choice words, still does but you convinced him out of going to the universe your father was in and beating the crap out of him both for cheating and abandoning you

So now, the fact that he didn't have a "talk" with him is impressive, what's more so, is that he didn't answer miguel at the moment

Is he being funny?

No way he thinks that i must answer

Did he hit his head, is he insane?

Taking a breath, you look in his eyes, red irises, red and puffy "out." you said, continuing your tour around your house, then heading to the door where miguel stood, going past him and leaving, you could swear if you had a knife you could cut the tension he caused, as if he ever caused anything else to you

"be safe" he said

"as if they needed to hear that from you" hobie scoffed, slowly reaching his limits

"Come on we're gonna be late" you said, already out the door

sorry for not posting, just can't seem to write lately,but i promise to get them doe eventually!

#miguel o'hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #platonic #miguel o’hara x platonic reader #platonic reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara

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boygiwrites · 8 months

Text

Harley D. Dixon 1

• Gen Tags. Found family, Daddy issues, Hurt and comfort, Gore.

• Summary. Harley D. Dixon is a tough yet sweet little girl who until the dead started eating the living, thought she had seen it all. Alongside a mismatched group of survivors in rural Georgia, Harley and her Dad are forced to leave their small life behind and learn how to survive all over again through the horrors of the apocalypse.

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

❤️Cross-Posted from Ao3.

Author's Note. Here we gooo! Argh, I'm so excited.

I've been wanting to write something like this for a long, long time. I've read just about every 'Daryl has a daughter' story out there, and now I've finally got my own to share. I just love Daryl, and Daryl with a kid is a whole other thing. We all know he wouldn't be the perfect parent, so you bet I'm gonna play right into that. He's gonna swear, he's gonna be strict, and he's gonna mess up. As for Harley (Yes, as in the motorcycle brand), I love her too. So ready to write her.

This story will cover the general plot of the show. To keep things fresh, I've made sure that almost every canon scene has undergone at least one small change. Plus, of course, many new scenes. Occasionally, I'll make bigger changes just to keep you on your feet! Nobody's safe! I'm also gonna be expanding on all the characters. And lastly — FOUND FAMILY! Piles and piles and piles of found family, eventually. I live for found family.

Please enjoy reading! :)

My Uncle Merle died today.

I'm sitting in a crinkly green camping chair, watching embers die.

I don't wanna think about my Uncle right now, so I think about something else.

The fire was built last night by Glenn and Morales. Then Lori came along this morning very quietly and made it alive again with logs and wads of notebook paper. Thinking about facts is easy. It's like sucking on a plain candy that tastes like nothing. There's a navy-blue blanket across my lap with three holes in it, perfect for nibbling, poking, and ripping. Dale gave it to me when the cold settled in this afternoon. He told me he reckons it's around June, as he covered my shoulders, which used to be his niece's birthday.

He says she looked a little like me. That means she's dead. So many people are dead, now.

A thin log in the campfire cracks and tumbles over after trying to stay upright all morning. I hope I don't look like that log.

I can hear Officer Rick approaching. My stomach becomes a stone.

I can tell it's Rick because he's got one of them power walks that you can hear coming from a mile away, which I think makes him pretty stupid. He's loud, and loud is dangerous, and dangerous is stupid. My Dad's not like that. Unless he's angry or running, ain't nobody hearing my Dad coming; especially not no squirrels.

He's almost as big as my Grandpappy Dixon, who people used to say was as big as a house, and he wears super heavy boots from a hunting store near our house — but he's still not loud, or dangerous, or stupid. Not like Officer Rick.

"Hey, Harley."

I think I hate Officer Rick. I think I hate everyone.

And I think I might be crying now, too. I focus on twirling the blanket strings around my finger so I have something very simple to think about, which is that it hurts real bad when I twist it tight. I see Rick crouch down in front of me. He takes a while to say anything else, and it's prolly 'cause he's tryna be real careful, so he don't make me cry even more.

If my Dad weren't out hunting, he'd prolly slap Rick and everybody else that's tried badgering me today dead for tryna do his job for him. I feel like, just by sitting here, I'm disobeying him. Rick ain't my Daddy.

"We, uh..." He clears his throat. "Me and Lori, and some other folks are uh... Well, we're all a little worried about you, honey, okay?"

I imagine a small group of folks gathered by the RV right now, watching me and Rick; wondering if he's gonna be the one to get through to me.

I'm worried for when my Daddy comes back. When he finds out about Uncle Merle, he's gonna be fuming. He's gonna be like one of them cartoon characters with the bright red faces and the smoke comin' outta their ears, stomping all around, and he's prolly gonna kill somebody. It's prolly gonna be Rick. He always told me cops are bastard liars, and that they can't help us.

I look up at Rick. Yep, I've been crying.

Rick's all blurry, but I can still make out his ugly Sheriff's badge and his scary blue eyes and his frowning eyebrows that look like clenched fists, and I can tell he's been waiting to be the one to talk to me. I bet he thinks it makes him better than everyone else; better than my Uncle Merle, who he left to die just 'cause he ain't like him. I wanna kick Rick right in the face. I think he knows this, but he doesn't move.

"First off, I wanna say that I'm sorry about what happened to your Uncle Merle." Rick says all nice and gentle.

Nothin' happened to him.

It weren't no freak accident, which is what Uncle Merle used to say happened to my Momma.

Rick killed him.

"I know he meant a lot to you. And I'm sorry. If I had'a known he had a niece to come back to, maybe I woulda been a little wiser with my decision makin'. But Harley," He tilts his head and puts a hand on my knee for this part. "You gotta know, like I know, that your Uncle was a danger to us all."

There's a little angry parasite inside of me. It's been growing and growing ever since the group came back from Atlanta, and I couldn't find my Uncle Merle in the crowd. I've never noticed my Uncle Merle so much than when I realised he wasn't there. It was like there was the wrong amount of space left in the air and Rick was taking up the too much of it. Ever since the cars showed up, everything has been wrong, wrong, wrong.

Ever since Rick showed up.

"If I hadn't stepped in when and how I did," Rick says, "Your Uncle wouldda gotten us all in a lotta trouble."

Another log crumbles in the campfire. My finger aches and pulses around the string.

That hungry little parasite — hungry for Rick to hurt like I'm hurting, needing it more than anything — makes me tell him, "I wish he did." And again, because it feels good. Rick becomes even more blurry, as my voice makes an embarrassing hicking noise. "I wish you died."

I expect to be hit. That's what happens sometimes, when little girls don't know their place.

Tellin' adults I want them dead — That ain't my place. And I know it. I just don't care.

My Uncle Merle wasn't a danger, he was just Uncle Merle; Has been since I could talk. He used to feed me bits of his sandwich out on the deck back at home, like the tomato, 'cause he ain't like the taste. He used to fix my bike when it was broken. He used to make sure I was the first one to open presents at Christmas, and help me wrestle the wrapping when there was too much tape. He used to pull my wobbly baby teeth out for me and let me outside without shoes. He wasn't mean, or bad, or loud, or dangerous, or stupid; at least not always. He wasn't the one that got my Momma killed. He was good. And now he'd dead.

If someone had to die, I wish it had'a been Rick — Stupid, noisy, idiot Rick who ain't shed one single tear after what he done to my Uncle Merle.

I wanna get hit. I want him to hit me so bad that I'm allowed to hit him back.

"Okay." Rick says, and I can't breathe.

I feel like everything goes silent throughout camp, like the chairs and the cars and the people are all holding their breaths like I am. He actually looks a little sad, which feels really, really bad, because I wanna be angry.

"Okay. That's okay."

But as I think about my Uncle Merle, and the tomatoes, and my old bike, and what Christmas used to feel like, and my Daddy, and how he ain't even know about Merle yet, I realise I'm just really, really sad.

I can't even see Rick anymore, my eyes are so watery. My whole body hurts from being sad. I feel like I'm sick and I need to go to the doctor, but I don't even know what for. There aren't even any doctors here. Just two bastard liar cops, some campers, and a space where my Uncle Merle should be.

I think, after a while, Rick leaves.

My Dad still keeps his wallet.

It's in a backpack under his sleeping cot. He says that everything inside that bag will keep us alive some day, if we ever need to leave the quarry camp. He said I need to know exactly where it is so that I can grab it if he can't. He showed me everything the night we got here, because he forced me to, because it's important. The other kids don't learn stuff like this from their parents. It makes me feel smart. I'm in on a secret. He showed me the bug spray, which keeps our skin healthy from bug diseases, and he showed me the flashlight, which has two batteries and a big black button. He showed me the compass, the box of matches, the big knife, the little knife, the rope, and the map. It's like a Jenga tower. If we lose even one thing from the backpack; everything topples, and we die — I die. You gotta listen t'me, chicken. My Daddy's always been like this.

But the wallet made no sense.

We don't gotta pay taxes no more, like Merle said. I don't know what taxes are, except they're bad, and gone, and nobody liked them anyway. And I saw my Dad burn all his money in a campfire one night, so it can't be that.

It's the pictures, Dad told me. He flipped it open like a book, and we looked at 'em together on top of his sleeping bag. I felt like crying for a second because we forgot all my storybooks when we left our house, but Daddy hates it when I cry, so I dried up. Crying is for babies, and I'm a big girl. He showed me a photo of an actual baby, and after he touched the baby's face with his fingertip, he said the baby was me. I didn't think I could look like that. He stopped talking for a while. I listened to the cicadas in the trees to pass the time while he touched the photo. Then it was bedtime.

I'm looking at the photo now, waiting for him to get back.

I was a very pink baby. I was only the size of his forearm, which in the photo, hasn't been tattooed yet. The tattoo of my name is missing, which goes up his wrist in curly letters. Harley Davidson Dixon. It's the name of a motorcycle. The tattoo of the skull and the bleeding angel are missing, too. He's fixing my baby blanket around my chin. I guess he's been doing that since the day I was born. Every night, at least up until last week, my Dad tucks me into bed and sings me the same song. Hush little baby, don't say a word. Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird. I like his voice when he sings to me. Usually, he's yelling, or grumblin', but in those twenty seconds before I have to go to sleep, and nobody else is listening, he's softly whispering the lyrics to me, and touching on my ears and my cheeks. In the photo, he's crying down into his smiling mouth. That's something he doesn't do anymore.

The next photo is of us at the zoo. I know it was taken on one of the weekends I was at my Dad's house, because my Momma's not in this one. Just my Dad and two of his friends, I think, who are throwing rock star hands in the air. I'm wearing a black shirt with a videogame character on it that my Dad likes, and brown pants. I'm sitting on my Dad's hip as we pose in front of three giant elephants. My Dad's got a tiny purple backpack over his shoulder that makes him look sorta funny. It used to be mine. I'm looking at the elephant's long, silly-straw trunk as it tries to sniff us, but my Daddy's lookin' at me. I wish I remembered this day.

The third photo is a school photo with a swirly blue background. I remember this one. My Momma did my hair that day.

I know why he keeps his wallet, now. Just like how we need the bug spray, and the matches, and the rope, and the knives, and the map, and the flashlight to stay alive — I think my Dad needs these photos. They won't keep him warm or stop bugs from chewing on him, but he needs them.

I shove the wallet back where I found it, 'cause I'm not meant to be goin' through my Dad's things.

My Dad comes back while I'm vomiting under a tree.

At first, he doesn't see me. He calls for me to come get my little butt over there, so I can help him and Uncle Merle stew up some rabbits for dinner but when he hears me retch, he comes running over. I hear his crossbow drop and some more people call after him.

One minute, Lori and Amy are holding back my hair and patting my shoulders the best they can, and the next, my Daddy's forcing his way in. I'm rocking and I'm swaying like I'm on a life raft in the ocean, and I can hear Rick's voice and then Shane's and then Dale's. My Dad grabs the back of my neck and squeezes it, the way Lori and Amy would never know how to do, and tells me to lean forward some more. It works. I vomit up a chunky puddle of peaches and jerky into the dirt.

Then, I'm empty, and I'm crying — crying hard — into my Dad's lap.

"Someone wanna tell me what the Hell's goin' on here?" He snarls at whoever's around.

Feels like half the camp is here.

"How 'bout we all just try—" Shane's suggesting, but my Dad cuts him off.

"How 'bout ya'll just spit it out? And where the Hell's my brother?"

That makes me bury deeper into my Dad's legs, moaning and hiccupping. He puts a hand over my head. He's clocked the problem.

"Where the Hell's my damn brother?"

"Look, Daryl," Shane levels, "I'm just gonna come out and say it, alright? There was a problem in Atlanta."

My Dad's panting, now. "What fuckin' 'problem'?"

"Listen—"

"He dead?" Underneath me, my Dad's muscles are lurching and stopping, lurching and stopping, like he wants so much to just jump up and knock Shane to the ground, but he won't bring himself to leave me. The camp has gone completely silent.

Shane stammers. I've never heard Shane stammer. "We're— We're not sure."

The silence just keeps on goin' and goin' and goin', and somehow, it's even scarier than the yelling.

"There's no easy way to say this," Rick says, voice lowered. I wonder what my Dad looks like; if I was right about the cartoon thing.

Dad presses my head further into his stomach. "Who're you?"

"Rick Grimes."

"'Rick Grimes'." He spits, like it's an insult. It is. Bastard cop liar. "You got sum' you wanna tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all." Lies Rick. "So I handcuffed him on a roof; Hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there."

After he says this, something in the air must have changed; something must have snapped without even makin' a sound, because Lori's whispering to me that I should follow her back to camp, like we're running out of time. She tries to pull me away, but I kick her; kick her hard, in the shin. She tries again. I realise she's trying to separate me from my Dad. Then, I realise he's sorta shaking. Lurching, stopping, lurching stopping. Silence, silence.

"Lemme get this straight." Dad whispers, and it's not the nice kind, like when he sings. "You're tellin' me that you handcuffed my brother to a roof."

Glenn's pulling at me now, too. Nobody else moves a muscle.

"And you left him there?!"

This time, he lurches and he doesn't stop. Glenn catches me as I'm flung from my Daddy's hip, and he passes me off to Lori as Dad goes lunging at Rick. The brown pebbles go flying up into the air. My Dad tackles Rick at the waist, and they crash into the leaves and the twigs, and his fist — The one with my birth date tattooed on each knuckle — goes smack, smack, smack, into Rick's cheek. There's yelling; scrambling. Glenn and Shane pull my Dad off of Rick, and that smacking sound stops. Dad beats Shane offa him and then, —

"Watch the knife!" T-Dog yells. Now there's a swishing sound, and grunting sounds, and I was right — My Daddy's gonna kill Rick.

My Daddy's killed someone before. He did it on accident, 'cause he got so angry that he didn't stop until the guy was dead and gone, which means that it was aggravated manslaughter. It was in the afternoon, just like it is right now, and I was playin' in the front yard in the sprinklers. My Dad and Uncle Merle were in the open garage, smoking and poking at their bikes with tools. Ronnie lived two trailers down. I was small, and easy to pick up, so I don't remember much, but Ronnie snatched me up right there in the yard. My Daddy says he was gon' take me. But he didn't let him. Ronnie got chased into the woods, and for two days, my Daddy and Uncle Merle searched for him. Then they beat him so bad his Momma ain't recognise him when the ambulance people dragged him out in a big black bag, and the cops took my Daddy away while the sun rose. I wasn't allowed to see him for four and a half years.

I need my Dad. Suddenly, I'm shrieking at him to stop, even though I want Rick dead so bad. By now, Shane's got my Dad in a chokehold up against a tree. Are he and Rick allowed to take my Daddy away? Lori and — I think that's Amy — are shushin' me, but I just keep hittin' on them and shouting.

I writhe in the dirt. "Stop! Daddy!"

"Damn pigs!" Dad growls. "You're stressin' out my kid, now! Lemme the Hell go!"

Shane laughs. "Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Then he turns to Lori, because what my Dad said is true. "Get Harley out of here."

I don't let her move me when she tries.

Dad struggles. "Chokehold's illegal, bastard!"

"You can file a complaint later." Shane scoffs. "We got all day here."

Rick steals my Dad's knife off the ground and gets in his face. His cheek is all red and purple. The fight's over. "What I did was not on a whim," He tells my Dad straight. "Your brother does not work and play well with others. I did what had to be done in the moment, to keep us all alive."

He's lyin'. He's lyin' again. My Uncle Merle chopped these people's firewood and brought them meat. He worked well.

My Dad shoots out a foot to try hit Rick in the crotch. He misses. Shane pushes his face harder into the tree.

"It's not Rick's fault." T-Dog holds up his hands, coming close. "It's mine. I had the key. I dropped it."

"You couldn't pick it up?" Dad sasses.

"It fell in a drain." T-Dog serves up this answer like it means anything at all. I hate him.

"If that's 'posed to make me feel better, it don't."

"Well, maybe this will." T-Dog's lookin' at me, now, too. "The door to the roof — I locked it with a padlock so the geeks couldn't get to him. There's a good chance he's still alive."

I heard this all before, when all them people kept coming up to me at the campfire. Lori told me to get some food in my stomach; the peaches and jerky. Shane tried to make me go play with Carl. T-Dog said sorry over and over again. Dale gave me the blanket. Rick made me cry. I know how this goes, though. Gettin' someone killed and killin' them with your actual hands are the same thing. I know that.

"To Hell with all'a ya'll!"

He shakes Shane off and beelines for me. He takes me from Lori with bloodied hands — Rick's blood — and I let him yank me by the back of my shirt to my feet, and I fall into his chest when he crouches. His breath is heavy on my neck. Even his skin is hot.

Lori's pale as an egg. I think she's scared of my Dad.

He takes a big breath, stands up, and drags me by the hand back to our tent without sayin' another word.

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daddy issues #rick grimes #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #daryl dixon daughter #parent daryl dixon

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loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

Basketballs and Bat Tattoos (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Sinclair! Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: vague threats of violence???

Synopsis: When Y/N finds out that Eddie has been making fun of her brother Lucas, she has to do something about it

Y/N notes: muscle/ toned build

Ty again to my black readers who gave me advise on this! I really like Lucas and I wanna write more Sinclair! Reader where she has a different personality so if you’ve got an idea, shoot it my way! I might write it

I know that black female characters get the “aggressive, more masculine” trope a lot and it was never my intention to make my first Sinclair! Reader a stereotype, it just kinda happened. I want you to know that whenever I write Y/N, I’m always imagining her as somewhat myself (a half white half Asian girl). BUT it’s not always about your intentions with your content, it’s how it is perceived by the audience that consumes it. So again, if you’re black and wanna talk about this, send me a message in my inbox and I’ll DM you so we can talk:)

Ty for reading, have a nice day!

- Willow

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

Y/N happily made her way down the hallway towards the locker rooms, her bag with her basketball kit on her back.

After school practice was always her favourite. Being the captain of the girls basketball team, she had a lot of responsibility. Not that she worried too much about that. Making sure everyone was having fun was always the most important thing, and that came easily to Y/N.

She was peppy and bubbly, an easily likeable person. She was helpful and considerate, and passionate about her sport. Someone having a bad time during her practices was a rarity.

The sea of students headed in the opposite direction to the exit, ready to go home. A couple of them greeted Y/N as they left.

“See ya tomorrow Sinclair!”

“See ya!”

“Have a good practice!”

“Thanks I will!”

“Hey Y/N!” A familiar freshman greeted.

“Oh hey Dustin! You heading to Hellfire club?” She asked with a smile. She noted the shirt he wore, one she had seen many, many times.

“Yeah Mike’s gonna meet me there.” Dustin replied excitedly. He hesitated for a moment. “Is… Lucas coming tonight?” A hopeful glint in his eyes.

“No I think he’s going to basketball practice.” Y/N replied, sharing in the younger one’s disappointment. Dustin sighed and nodded.

“Okay well tell him I said hi. Have fun doing basketball stuff!” He yelled as left, pushing through the older kids. Y/N gave him a wave and continued on her way.

Lucas had been seeing his old friends less and less recently. When he told Y/N that he was starting basketball, she was ecstatic. The oldest had been trying to get her younger siblings to play sports with her for years with no luck. But something was wrong.

Why the sudden interest? It didn’t take her long to figure it out. High school’s a tough time for anyone, but it’s also a fresh start. A chance to reinvent yourself. Y/N had always been one of the popular kids. She couldn’t relate to Lucas’ struggles as a nerd, but she could see it was hard at times. If he wanted to try and be someone new, she wasn’t gonna stop him. She’d just keep a close eye.

As she was thinking, Y/N spotted her younger brother ahead, also heading to the locker rooms. She jogged to catch up with him.

“Lucas!” She said loudly as she slapped a hand down on his shoulder, making him jump.

“Jeez Y/N!” Lucas looked to his left at his sister, slightly annoyed as his shock subsided. She grinned.

“Oh you’re jumpy today. Y’know that’s a sign of a guilty conscience? Whatcha’ hidin’ from me?” She poked.

“Nothing.” Lucas huffed, moving away from her. Y/N chuckled.

“You excited for practice? Jason and I are planning on getting the girls and guys teams to train together today.”

“Oh nice.” He nodded, no where near as excited as his sister. Y/N paused before speaking again.

“I just saw Dustin.” She saw Lucas flinch at his friend’s name. “He says hi.”

“Ah. Right.” Y/N waited another moment saying more.

“You’ve been missing a lot of the Hellfire sessions recently.” She commented.

“Yeah well they clash with practice so…” Lucas mumbled. Y/N could tell he was still conflicted with hanging with the jocks and hanging with his friends.

“You can practice basketball at any time. You can only do Eddie’s campaign right now.” Y/N stated.

She liked Eddie. The fact that he took Lucas and his freshman friends under his wing and gave them a place in school where they could be themselves. He was always unapologetically himself and he oozed passion for what he did, just like Y/N.

They were very alike in a way.

“Yeah well I’m one of the popular kids now and they’re not so…” Lucas’ words trailed off as they reached the locker rooms. The siblings stood outside to continue to talk.

“Hmm well sports were always my thing. You never wanted to play with me when we were little. Yet you suddenly do now? Your thing was all that nerdy shit-“

“Don’t call it nerdy shit!” Lucas defended. “And Erica likes that nerdy shit now!”

“Oh so what? This is just copy the older sibling?” Y/N asked with a teasing smile.

“I thought you’d be excited that I was finally playing with you.” Lucas mumbled, looking at the ground. He pushed the boys locker room open, Y/N grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“Hey hey hey. You okay? I was just kidding, you know that right?” Y/N searched Lucas’ face to see if he understood. He just huffed and pulled himself away from her grip.

“Yeah whatever I’m fine. It’s just…” Lucas stopped taking. Y/N could tell from his tone that this wasn’t about her.

“Just what? What’s wrong?” She asked, concerned.

“Eddie started hassling me after I missed one session and he keeps doing it.” Lucas finally replied. “Makes me not wanna go anymore…”

“Wait really?” Y/N asked, a mix of surprise and sadness in her voice. She didn’t expect that from Eddie. Lucas continued to look at the ground.

“Yeah he kinda makes fun of me.” He mumbled.

“Does he now?” Y/N replied, leaning back slightly. She folder her arms. Her sadness was turning into annoyance and silent rage. Lucas’ eyes widened in panic.

“Don’t say anything to him! Please!” He held his hands out frantically, like she was gonna run down to Hellfire club that second and punch Eddie right in the face. Y/N stayed where she was of course, thinking about what she should do. Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah well that’s what you told me to do with those bullies you had in middle school and-”

“You’ll just make it worse.” Lucas said seriously. Y/N stopped talking, not sure on what to say. “Just- I can deal with my own problems, okay?” Lucas went to go and get changed, leaving Y/N unsure of her next move.

She couldn’t do nothing.

She had to help.

———————————————————————

“Hey, Eddie!” Y/N called out as she stormed over to the table in the lunch hall that next day. Mike and Dustin sunk in their seats.

“Shit…” They both mumbled. They had known Y/N basically their whole lives and only seen Y/N mad twice.

The first time was when she was 15. Her first boyfriend cheated on her so she made an alliance with the other girl he was seeing and beat the crap outta him. They were all in Lucas’ room, watching from the window as the guy was curled up on the sidewalk.

“Dude. Your sister’s fucking terrifying.” Dustin whispered. Half in fear, half in amazement.

“She can be when she needs to.” Lucas replied, glaring at the boy as the girls began to walk away. Y/N looked up at the bedroom, seeing the four younger kids. She smiled and gave them a wink.

The second time was when Erica was really little. She was being picked on by some girls in her grade. They were too young to beat up but Y/N didn’t need to get physical to put the fear of God in them. She screamed at the girls in the middle of the elementary school playground, the rest of the elementary schoolers watching, Erica standing beside her. Saying that if they so much as looked at Erica funny she would end them. Lucas can remember that as the point where Erica started being like she was now. Doesn’t take shit from no one. Must’ve been copying her sister.

Eddie however, had never seen Y/N be anything but bubbly and energetic. Her usual self. So he had no idea what he was in for.

“Sinclair. What’s the head of the girl’s basketball team doing talking to me?” Eddie grinned. His smile faulted slightly as Y/N got closer and he saw her face. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up out of his chair, beginning to drag him out the room.

“Let’s talk.” Students watched as Eddie scrambled to stay on his own two feet. Mike and Dustin looked over to Lucas at the popular table. He scrunched his face up in embarrassment and hit his head on the table.

Y/N dragged Eddie out into the empty hallway, pushing him against the wall before finally letting go.

“Shit Sinclair.” Eddie said, catching his breath.

“You been giving my brother a hard time?” Y/N stood with her arms crossed, staring at him intently. Eddie’s panic seemed to lower, his smile retuning.

“What? No no I was just-“

“Don’t lie to me Munson.” Y/N cut him off with a low tone. She pointed a stern finger at him. Eddie frozen up then sighed. He put his hands in his jean pockets and shrugged.

“Okay okay maybe I was teasing him a little for hanging with you jocks but it was just a joke!” He chuckled nervously.

“A joke huh?” Y/N repeated. Her tone sounded threatening, sending chills down Eddie’s spine. She took a small step closer to him. Eddie stepped back, his back to the wall. He felt himself going down as his legs began to cave in under him. He sat on the floor, looking up at her.

Y/N put a foot against the wall, inches from Eddie’s face, and loomed over him.

“Say anything about Lucas playing basketball again, and I’ll end you.” Eddie gulped and nodded shakily. Y/N took her foot off the wall. “Good. Have a nice lunch Munson.” She said as she walked away.

After a minute or two of sitting on the floor, Eddie found the strength to stand up. He made his way back into the lunch hall and to his seat where he dropped down on it.

“Glad you’re still alive.” Dustin said.

“So what happened? What she say?” Mike asked. Eddie didn’t look at either of them.

He sat in silence, thinking over what had happened. He really wasn’t ready for any of that. He had no idea Y/N could act that way, she was always so nice and bubbly.

Maybe it made a little sense. He knew that Y/N had always been a passionate person, her love of basketball showed that immensely. She worked hard in classes and would never hesitate to go out of her way to help others. Guess that included threatening him for her younger brother.

Eddie felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. He didn’t want to admit it but…

… a part of him found the exchange weirdly hot. He kept thinking about Y/N’s leg so close to his face, foot on the wall. The girl’s basketball shorts showed off her toned calf and thigh.

“Eddie? You okay man?” Dustin asked.

“Y-Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” He managed to say. He looked up, seeing Lucas leaving the lunch hall. “I’ll be right back guys. I gotta do something.”

———————————————————————

Y/N got home from school that day. She hadn’t seen Lucas since lunch. He had gone home before her so she hadn’t had a chance to talk to him.

“Hey Mom.” Y/N greeted as she entered the kitchen. Mrs. Sinclair was chopping vegetables, preparing dinner.

“Hey honey how was school? Practice good?” She asked, not taking her eyes off of the knife in her hand.

“Yeah it was good. Where’s Lucas?”

“In his room!” Erica shouted from the living room couch, watching tv with her Dad.

“Everything okay?” Y/N’s Mom asked, a little concerned. Y/N smiled at her and began walking towards the stairs.

“Yeah everything’s fine Mom, just basketball stuff y’know?” She shouted to her sister before going up. “Thanks Eri!”

Y/N dropped her things off in her room and went to Lucas’ door. Usually she would’ve just walked in, but today felt a little different. She knocked. “Lucas?”

“Come in.” Y/N opened the door to see her brother sitting on his bed, reading a comic. She stood in the doorway.

“Hey.” She greeted cautiously. Lucas smiled a little at her.

“Hey.” He didn’t seem mad which was a good sign. Y/N went and sat on Lucas’ bed.

“Look I’m sorry I made a big deal out of the Eddie situation but I couldn’t not do anything-”

“No it’s okay.” Lucas cut her off. “You actually helped a lot so, thanks.”

“I did?”

“I mean you could’ve chosen a more inconspicuous time and place but, yeah. Eddie found me at lunch and apologised.” A smile began to appear on Y/N’s face.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really. He said he was sorry and that if I wanna play basketball then he doesn’t have any problems with that.”

“Wow.” Y/N’s smile widened then dropped. “Shit I feel kinda bad now.”

“What did you say to him?” Lucas frowned.

“That if he messed with you again I’d end him?” The siblings laughed.

“He must’ve been so scared!”

“He was! He fell to the floor! He was looking up at me with those big puppy dog eyes- damn maybe I took it too far.” Y/N looked to the ground, beginning to regret her decisions. Lucas continued to laugh as Y/N said her thoughts out loud. Erica walked into the room.

“The hell are you two talking about?”

“Erica remember when you had those bullies in elementary school?” Lucas asked, still laughing a little. Erica turned to her sister.

“Which loser at school did you beat up now?” She asked, hands on her hips.

“I didn’t beat up anyone! I just threatened to beat him up.” Y/N joked, making Lucas’ laughter start up again. Erica shrugged.

“He probably deserved it. Mom says come downstairs and help with dinner.” The siblings began walking down, still laughing.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Y/N said to Lucas.

“If he doesn’t run away.”

———————————————————————

The next day before school, Y/N waited in the parking lot for the familiar van. Soon enough it appeared and parked near the back. Y/N walked over as Eddie got out.

“Hey Eddie!” She called out. Her voice made the metalhead jump and drop his keys. He turned around to face her.

“Shit Sinclair I haven’t done anything else I swear-“

“Eddie. Chill. I’m not gonna do anything to you.” Y/N chuckled a little as she picked up his keys and handed them to him. Eddie cautiously took them from her. He could see she was back to her bubbly self but he was still on edge. “Lucas told me you apologised to him. That was sweet of you.”

Y/N began walking towards the school, Eddie followed, keeping a little distance between them.

“Uh well yeah I was thinking about what you said and I realised I was being a bit of an asshole.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a guilty look on his face.

“Well I’m sorry too. I was also being an asshole.”

“No no i-it’s fine I get it. You were protecting your brother and all but yeah.” Eddie breathed out. “Fucking hell Sinclair you can be scary when you wanna be.” The metalhead said, starting to smile. Y/N laughed.

“The reason I was so mad was because I like you Eddie, so I was mad that you were acting like that.”

“Y-You like me?” Eddie stopped walking at the entrance of the school. Y/N turned to him.

“Yeah of course I do. I know some of my friends might not share that opinion but yeah, I like you.” Eddie’s couldn’t help the corners of his mouth turning up, as it stayed open from the shock. Y/N began walking into school, Eddie followed, his surprise subsiding.

“Y’know I really wasn’t expecting it from you, cause you’re usually like this cute, bubbly type girl.” He explained as they walked down the hallway.

“You think I’m cute Munson?” Y/N tilted her head to the side. Eddie’s words got caught in his throat.

“I- well I mean yeah- yeah I guess-” Y/N giggled as Eddie continued to verbally stumble. A bunch of the jocks were hanging out by the lockers. Jason spotted her.

“Hey Y/N! We’re all going to mine after practice today, you in?”

“Yeah sounds fun!” Jason looked over at Eddie. His smile faded.

“What are you doing with this freak?”

“Talking.” Y/N stated plainly. A couple other jocks walked over too.

“Is he giving you trouble?” One of the other jocks asked.

“You think I couldn’t handle myself if he was?” Y/N retorted. She smiled at them. “I’ll see you guys later.” She pushed one of them with her shoulder as she passed, making it look like an accident. The jock nearly fell over with the force that she shoved him with. Eddie stuck with her.

“You’re fucking strong Sinclair.” Eddie commented, chuckling.

“Yeah I know. I could crush your head between my thighs like a watermelon if I wanted.” Y/N said with a grin. Eddie gulped at that image in his head, his blush returning. “I’ll see you around Eddie.” She gave him a wink and walked away, leaving him to watch her go. He breathed in then out, composing himself, slapping a hand in his chest.

“Damn Y/N. How’d you do that to me?”

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