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scuderiasundays · 11 months

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you and me together

summary: a growing rift between you and carlos mixed with late night celebrations for an old friend + a little insta au at the end!

words: 1,345

a/n: this is the first time i've gotten a request for a fic so a big thank you to anon for sending this in! i've been fixated on who will win wimbledon 2023 so i had to incorporate a few tennis players 🎾

Carlos had managed to score some much-needed time off to make it to Wimbledon. The two of you had always dreamed of witnessing the pinnacle of tennis, booking the trip ages ago when the two of you were on steadier ground. Carlos was going to join you after his stint at Silverstone, while you had landed in London a day earlier to reconnect with college friends.

"Looks like Taylor's the hot favorite this year," you grinned. You and Taylor had a loose connection through Alexa, his cousin, who happened to be your college roommate. Whenever Taylor felt overwhelmed by the pressure of ATP rankings, he would swing by their apartment unannounced. The easygoing Californian would tag along to frat parties, going in as a stranger and emerging with a whole crew of newfound friends. You had played the role of Taylor's personal chauffeur, escorting him home in his intoxicated state, all the while indulging in his drunken rants about seeds, tournaments, and prize money. You always had a hunch that he had a thing for you, but your busy schedules kept the two of you delicately tiptoeing around the topic, never quite addressing it head-on.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things would be if you had taken a chance on Taylor. Stuck in a relationship that felt stagnant, you walked through the familiar streets of a city where you and Carlos had once roamed during his McLaren days. London summers seemed to stretch on forever, with the sun setting late around 9:30 PM. You and Carlos had once strolled through the city hand in hand, lost in aimless conversation. Now, the demands of your job kept you from accompanying Carlos to race weekends, while he rarely made it home, going straight from races to the simulator in Maranello.

When Carlos strolled into the hotel lobby with Charles by his side, you couldn't help but let out a faint sigh. It wasn't exactly a huge surprise since you knew Charles was a tennis fanatic, and you actually liked hanging out with him. On the other hand, you had secretly hoped this trip would be your shot at reconnecting with Carlos and maybe reviving the dwindling spark. Well, there goes that idea, you thought, feeling a twinge of disappointment set in.

As you entered the hotel room, Carlos asked, "You don't mind that I brought him, do you?" You replied, "No, not at all." Carlos proceeded to mention that he had to hit the gym since the Hungarian Grand Prix was coming up, emphasizing his "no days off" mentality. He affectionately kissed your forehead before shutting the door behind him.

Just as you were about to head out, a text notification popped up. It was from Carlos, apologizing that he couldn't make it to the Gentlemen’s Singles Final. Ferrari had sprung a last-minute PR commitment on him and Charles, but he promised to make it up to you. You were gutted, quickly dialing Alexa's number. You didn’t even feel like watching the match anymore, but she was adamant that you join her in Taylor's box. It had been years since you had last seen Taylor, and you were dazed by just how much he’d changed—a newfound aura of confidence that screamed "America’s No. 1."

"Y/N, it's been too long!" Taylor exclaimed as he pulled you into a warm hug. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as you wished him luck and turned your attention to Centre Court, where Taylor was about to embark on an epic showdown against Carlos Alcaraz, the newly crowned world No. 1.

As the final point was won, the stadium erupted into an explosion of applause and admiration. Taylor stood tall, basking in the well-deserved glory of his hard-fought win. Emotions ran high as he shook his opponent’s hand in a display of sportsmanship and mutual respect.

Taylor's victory had set the stage for a night out on the town, and drinks were on him as the entourage made their way into the vibrant Sexy Fish in Mayfair. Congratulations poured in from all directions, amplifying the elation in the air. However, amidst the festive ambience, a pang of longing tugged at your heart, reminding you of the nights you’d spent by Carlos' side, reveling in his victories and beaming with pride.

As the evening progressed and the champagne flowed, you playfully grabbed an imaginary microphone, assuming the role of a reporter. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you turned to Taylor, who stood at the bar, soaking it all in. "You just won Wimbledon! How does it feel to be on top of the world, Mr. Fritz?" you mockingly asked him.

Taylor, caught off guard but never without his notorious charm, grinned and replied, "I don't even have words, Y/N. I wasn't in the best headspace going into the match, but you showed up, and something just clicked. Maybe I'd be World No.1 if you were in my box at every tournament." His playful words made you blush, fully aware of the harmless flirtation at play. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, yet the room seemed to spin, overwhelming you with a sudden rush of emotions. Excusing yourself, you swiftly made your way towards the ladies' room, seeking a moment alone to gather your thoughts in the midst of the whirlwind celebration.

As Carlos and Charles walked into the restaurant, accompanied by a group of older executives, they immediately spotted you amidst the crowd. Charles couldn't help but make a lighthearted remark, "Funny seeing you here, Y/N! Any chance you can introduce us to the Wimbledon champion?" Relief washed over you, knowing they hadn't overheard your conversation with Taylor. Taylor was stunned to say the least as you walked back to the bar with two rather muscular men by your side.

“Taylor, meet the Scuderia Ferrari boys. Boys, meet Taylor.” The handshake exchanged between the three men was cordial, but Carlos, always quick-witted and ever possessive, raised one of his infamous eyebrows and chimed in, "Thanks for the introduction but I’m your boyfriend more importantly, no?" The playful remark had a tinge of jealousy in it, causing a momentary pause in the conversation.

Just then, Alexa, your ever-supportive confidante, happened to pass by. In her extremely inebriated state, she voiced what had been gnawing at her mind, "Not for long if you don't treat her right. You barely show up for her." Alexa had been there through the ups and downs of your rollercoaster of a relationship, aware of the challenges posed by long-distance and the strain it had placed on the both of you.

Overwhelmed by the weight of it all, you felt the need to escape for a moment. Without a word, you made your way outside, craving the coolness of the night air. Carlos, sensing your distress, followed closely behind. Observing your shivering, he swiftly handed you his navy blazer, offering you comfort in the only way he knew how.

"I'm sorry I haven’t been putting us first lately. I can tell I'm losing you," Carlos admitted with a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, his hands fidgeting nervously—a telltale sign of his unease. You could tell he was hurting as he struggled to find the right words. He had been grappling with the reality of your relationship slipping away, yet hesitant to poke the bear.

“It’s not just you, Carlos. It’s me too. Neither of us has been putting in the work and it shows.” Carlos nodded as his gaze softened.

“Where do we go from here?” Carlos muttered.

"Where do we go from here?" you repeated, mulling over the open-ended question. It held infinite possibilities, a multitude of paths stretching out before the two of you. And in that moment, you knew what you wanted more than anything.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you looked up at Carlos, a spark dancing in your eyes. "Let's just walk around the city like we used to. Take me anywhere, as long as the night ends with you and me together."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by carlossainz55, taylorfritz, and 57,575 others

yourusername: what a weekend! catching up with forever friends, getting my steps in, and watching the sunrise with my person 💚

alexafritz: you’re stuck with me for life

yourusername: i love this photo of you, lex! i’d be lost in a world without you 🫶🏼

carlossainz55: solamente mía

pierregasly: how dare you even think of going to wimbledon without me, @charles_leclerc 😤

charles_leclerc: calme-toi, mate! i didn’t even get to go but i did meet @taylorfritz 😏

yourusername: get a room

fan1: i went on a run in primrose hill this morning but i didn't want to bother carlos and @yourusername because they looked so blissfully in love

taylorfritz: you and lex are the best (loudest) cheerleaders 📢

yourusername: rooting for you always!

update: part two here ➡️

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melrodrigo · 10 months

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A little scorpion goes a long way - W.A.

Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You bring back an old friend.

Warnings: ooc wednesday, R being a simp

Word Count: 2k+

A/N: I’m bored, here’s a little Wednesday oneshot like promised!

Learning at Nevermore Academy had its perks and downsides, but one of your favorite things about the school was how little they cared about students’s powers.

You had no face? You’re just another student at Nevermore. You’re a freak emo girl? Doesn’t matter. You could revive things from the dead? Who cares?

You; were apart of the latter group. It’s not that you were so powerful to the point you could bring actual human beings to life, but enough to save a dying plant or two. Only, anytime you did it, there would always be ass-kicking consequences.

You’d always have a terrible headache and a killer cold after. Skin all colorless, resembling the look of a character from a Tim Burton movie.

When you had first met your now girlfriend of 11 months Wednesday Addams, she had shared a heartfelt story about her pet scorpion, Nero, and how he had gotten killed by some idiot normie kids.

It was heartbreaking. You swore then and there that as soon as you got the chance you’d try and find the scorpion and bring it back to life.

It also just so happened that yours and Wednesday’s one year anniversary was coming up, pegging the perfect opportunity for such a gift.

It was really hard to try and discreetly ask Wednesday where she had buried her pet scorpion without sounding suspicious.

So you didn’t.

Instead, you called up her father. It wasn’t any less scary, since he was still an Addams, and the father of your girlfriend, but at least you knew he was a bit softer than the rest of the family.

“Hellomr.addamscouldipleaseaskyouifyoyreawarewherewednesdayburiedherpetscorpionforagift?” You stumbled out, completely unintelligible.

“Hello? Who is this?” Came his booming voice from the other side of the phone.

A long paused sounded, you trying to calm down and wipe your sweaty palms against Wednesday’s sheets.

“Hey Mr.Addams, it’s YN. Would you happen to know where Wednesday buried her pet scorpion all those years ago? I need it for a gift im making her.” You said, as slowly as you could, but it still came out as a bit of a ramble.

He barked out a laugh, and your face flushed bright red. You thanked the lords that you decided to do this on the phone instead of in real life.

“Of course darling, it’s right in our backyard. Would you like me to send it to you? Me and Morticia need an idea for date night anyway. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled with grave digging!”

You let out a relieved sigh and a slight chuckle, shaking your head at the Addams Family antics.

“Yes, that would be amazing, thank you Mr. Addams.” You breathe in relief.

“Please, call me Gomez.”

There was a pause of uncertainty on your end before answering, “Of course….Mr.Gomez.”

A sound uncanny to a door swinging open had you turning around hurriedly, and hanging up before Mr. Gomez could even utter another word.

Wednesday stood there, looking unbothered; eyes half lidded until they locked with yours.

“What’s wrong with you? Why do you look like that?” She asked, eyes narrowed. You smiled a little at her tone, because it wasn’t one of annoyance, but rather of worry. Maybe you were turning her a bit soft after all.

You smile shyly, striding up to Wednesday but stopping just short in front of her, giving her time to pull away if she wanted.

When she didn’t, and in fact, leaned a little closer; you closed the distance and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“I’m amazing.” You breathed against her cheek, lips moving toward her neck.

She titled it up a bit, giving you more access to wander around as you please. Rigid hands found your waist, and she squeezed them slightly.

You pull away grinning.

“Oh no, you’re not getting it yet. Plus, tomorrow’s our anniversary, don’t you want it to be extra romantic?” You teased.

She let out a huff and crossed her arms, clearly displeased.

“I dont see what difference one day has.” She mumbled under her breath, still staring you down.

“As romantic as that is, I have to go.” You tell her, squeezing her finger once. All she does is give you a curt nod and returns to her desk.

A thing you learned later that day was that Gomez Addams was a man of his word. Not even a couple hours later, a package had arrived for you.

Inside the little shoe box was a photo of the couple grave digging, smiling wider than you’ve ever seen them; and the corpse of a certain infamous scorpion.

“Nero! Ha!“ You exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement. You inspected the little scorpion, it was tiny enough; should be no sweat to bring it back.

You were extremely wrong.

Considering the thing was dead for almost 10 years; it took an absurd amount of energy out of you.

God if you thought bringing plants back to life was hard, this thing was something you’ve never seen before. Strong and vicious, shooting a sharp pain through you as you connected the back of the scorpion to the palm of your hand.

At one point you seriously thought you were going to pass out. Sweat formed at your face and your vision was starting to get a little blurry.

And to add salt to the wound, the moment the scorpion was brought back, it decided to jump the person who had so graciously brought it back to life.

Leaving multiple scars on the side of your neck, before you could wrestle it away from you and into the pet box you had bought the week before.

Holy shit. I need a rest.

With your vision blurred and head pounding a million miles per second, you collapsed onto the bed, letting the world encompass you in a dark black haze.

You’re awaken the next day by an uninterested looking Wednesday, (that might just be how she always looks) hovering over you in the bed. You roll over in the bed to get a better view of her.

“Oh hey, Wends.” You greeted, trying to get up and talk to the girl properly, but letting out a groan as you clutched the side of your stomach in pain.

You pulled the sheets down to check your side, looking for the cause of your pain. What greeted you was a huge dark blue bruise that spread from the top of your rib cage to your waist.

“Huh. That’s weird.” You mumble.

You didn’t notice Wednesday’s eyes widening at the sight, since you were a bit busy poking at the wound.

She quickly slapped your hand away, and pushed you back down into the bed. Silencing you with a press of her pointer finger on your lips.

“Don’t move.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Wednesday move so quick, even back when she was looking for the hyde all those months ago. You stared at her in awe as she rummaged through your belongings, and pulled out a first aid kit.

Nevermore had employed one in every students dorm, seeing as to there were plenty of mini medical emergencies that would occur on a daily basis.

“Thing. Go get my Magical Beings 101 textbook. It’s located on my desk.”

Thing quickly hurried off, no doubt due to the harsh tone Wednesday used.

“I’m fine, Wends. Really. I’ll be up and running in a couple days.” You said as you reached over, trying to stroke her hand.

Surprisingly, she didn’t pull away, but instead gripped it tighter. She was silent for a moment, no sound except for your heavy breathing.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I know you used your powers YN. What I can’t seem to figure out is what for. Why are you so ill?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed.

And if you thought your heart couldn’t get any bigger, you were wrong. The way Wednesday was looking at you, all worried glances and intense eyes, you think you could pass away right then and there.

She cared.

As you tried to get up, ignoring the way Wednesday surged forward to stop you, quickly pushing you back into the bed. You didn’t put up much of a fight.

“This is gonna suck, and I wanted to save it for a more romantic setting, but I don’t think I’m leaving bed today.” You stated, while Wednesday was still eyeing you like you would get up again.

“Could you pass me the box under my desk Wends? But you have to promise to close your eyes.” You murmur, bat your eyes at her.

At that Wednesday rolled her eyes, and you were a little relieved to see a familiar Wednesday expression.

“And why is that?” She inquired.

Um.

“My brain is too meshed to come up with an excuse. It’s for our anniversary, but please don’t look, I wanna see your reaction.” You admitted, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

With a huff, Wednesday moved to your desk and closed her eyes, which took a while for her to actually find the box and bring it out.

“Over here.” You say, in case your voice would help her sense of direction better.

“I’m dating an imbecile who thinks I’m an imbecile.” Wednesday mutters under her breath, not aware that you had heard.

Wednesday walks over and stops in front of you, as you pat the surface on the bed next to you.

She gets the hint, and after some reluctance sits down and waits peacefully.

It’s a little domestic, and your heart starts beating faster.

You take the box from her hands and try your best to cover the clear part, then look over to Wednesday.

“Okay, you can open them now.” You say.

Wednesday’s eyes are flicked open in an instant, her peaceful face turning back into her usual resting glare.

She squints at the box, and tilts her head. You push it forward on the bed a little, gesturing for her to open the lid.

She does, and when she peers inside, her eyes widen. She dips her hand in the box and whispers, “Nero, flip.”

When the scorpion walks up to her and does a little turn of it’s body, you guess it could be called a flip, Wednesday gasps.

“It is you.” She says, sounding star struck.

And then as if just remembering you were there, she looks at you, with more emotion than you’ve ever seen before.

You feel your knees get a little week, even though you haven’t even been standing. Wednesday looks in awe.

“Happy Anniversary Wends. I didn’t know where I could find Nero so I called up your dad, I hope that’s oka-“

You’re cut off by Wednesday engulfing you in a fierce hug, and she would never admit it, but you swear you felt something damp on your shoulder.

You let the moment be, don’t tease her about it. Caressing her back a little as she leans just slightly into you.

“You’re an idiot.” She whispers, and you shiver at the sensation of her lips on your bare skin.

“Yeah I know, but you love me.” You say with a cheeky grin.

Wednesday doesn’t say anything back,but you don’t mind. Words had never been her way of expressing love, and having her here, teary eyed and smiling; albeit a tiny smile, was confirmation enough she felt the same.

You didn’t end up getting to do the things on your list for your anniversary, but in a way, what you ended up with was much better.

The rest of the day was spent with Wednesday in your arms, and a tiny scorpion in hers.

It was getting sort of uncomfortable, the position you were in, but you didn’t dare move away.

When Enid had walked in, looking for her disappearing roommate, and spotted you two asleep in each other’s arms. She bit back a squeal and snapped a quick photo on her phone.

You later asked for the photo and set it as your lockscreen.

It was a real pain bringing Nero back, but considering everything, you would definitely do it again.

#wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #mine

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atths--twice · 1 month

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Imagine The X-Files reboot happens. We’re introduced to new agents working in the basement. They find themselves stumped on a case and they look at one another and nod.

Cut to a coffee shop and we see Mulder and the agents. He’s smiling, looking at the file, and thinking of so many things as he listens to them.

“Wow. The case sounds incredibly interesting. I definitely would be all in a few years ago. But now…” He checks his watch and smiles again. “I gotta pick my daughter up soon. I’ll offer what advice I can, but I can’t be late for her.”

When he leaves, we see him watching them, somewhat wistfully, but then his watch beeps with a previously set alarm to pick up his daughter. At the same time, he gets a message from Scully about dinner, asking if he’s still cooking or if he wants her to pick something up on her way home. He grins and nods his head, knowing he’s made the right choice.

And then maybe a young female agent comes to the hospital seeking out Scully, needing some additional advice. She hints at what she knows of Mulder and Scully.

“Oh,” Scully laughs softly, shaking her head. “You have no idea.”

And she crosses her arms and we see that she’s wearing a wedding ring.

These two deserve happiness and family and love- everything they haven’t been able to have. I would love to watch a new group of people working cases so long as the story is good and the chemistry is there.

And if we got to have little chances to look in to Mulder and Scully‘s life… yes please. ❤️

Let me make an addition especially for @baronessblixen because I completely agree with her. 💕💕

I want to see them with their kid. I want to see them enjoy their time with her. Maybe we see her schooling the agents somehow and Scully looks at Mulder and he looks at her and they both say “that’s all you” and then everyone laughs.

I want to see both of them interact with her together doing something as simple as just being at home. Like I NEED it so badly. If we got that, like the “what if” scenarios we saw in the revival, (minus the alien aspect of it) I would be so incredibly happy. ❤️❤️

#the x files #msr #love #possible reboot #I would love to see this

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americas-ass-writing · 13 days

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Drunken Nights

Steve Rogers

Words: 1.6k

Summary: A bet has unforeseen consequences that drive Bucky Barnes insane.

Warnings: drinking, violence, swearing, mention of abortion rights, this is such a crack fic I'm sorry, reader insert mention at the end

Author's Note: This is my second entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza I used the prompt: "You are such a fucking menace.” and kinda sneaked it in because I've been sitting on this fic for at least a year 😅 The idea sparked because @rogerswifesblog and me had a conversation about this 🤭

Divider by @saradika-graphics

It started out as a joke. It started with the Avengers discussing what kind of drunk Steve would be. Tony firmly believed he would be embarrassing, he would spill all the secrets he kept. Natasha thought he would pass out after two drinks. Clint was adamant that Steve would be a very touchy drunk. Thor believed that his friend would be as normal as ever. And Bruce honestly didn't have an opinion but after some pressing said Steve would be a dance machine when drunk. After a while Sam and Bucky were pulled into the discussion. As his best friends they had to know but they didn't. Bucky saw him drunk once, in the 40s, before the serum. And Steve honestly was just paranoid his mom would find out they drank a whole bottle of gin.

Steve was so annoyed with the topic and bets about his drunken state that he didn't say anything for the entire two hours this was passionately discussed. But he did agree on testing the theory. He hasn't been drunk since that one time Bucky mentioned and he was honestly intrigued. He had so many things he wanted to forget, even if it was for just a few hours. An empty brain for once, wouldn't that be nice?

Which is what brought him here. An Avengers party organised by Tony with a shit ton of guests. Three bottles of Asgardian liquor in front of him and his friends staring. The first bottle left a slight buzz. Steve could feel the effects of the alcohol but his brain was still functioning normal. The second bottle made him forget his worries. He had an easy smile on his face as his friends all surrounded him. The third bottle? He took along after his friends got distracted. They left him alone for a few moments too long. The senator he was verbally fighting before stood at the bar alone and Bucky's brain brought back an alarming feeling he hadn't had for a long time. "Fuck... We gotta find Steve!" He said, his voice panicked as he looked at the group of Avengers.

It was a quick search but they were fairly sure Steve wasn't here anymore. "Friday?" Tony's voice quibbed, all of the others’ eyes were on the brown haired man. "Captain Rogers has left the building with a tall male, identified as Jason Smith, bodyguard of senator Ernst, about five minutes ago." The AIs voice gave back, without even being asked the question.

"Told you he'd be very touchy." Clint says with a shrug and a grin. Natasha rolled her eyes at that but didn't seem that bothered. "No... No no no." Bucky rubbed a hand over his face. "fucking hell. He's gonna start a fight. He probably went outside with the bodyguard to start a fight in an alleyway." He grumbles. This couldn't be happening to him. Weren't all those years he had to pull Steve's asthmatic ass out of fights enough?

"Are we talking about the same Steve Rogers? He has a stick so far up his ass he even shook Rosses hand with a smile on his face." Tony quibbed. "He's just reverting to the idiot that couldn't stand back from a fight. I'm telling you." Bucky gave back, throwing his hands up in the air. "No way. Capsicle wouldn't. Even when shit faced drunk he's too righteous." Tony crossed his arms.

"Boys... I really hate to interrupt your little banter here but Smith is back... And... He doesn't look like he had a fun time with Steve." Natasha quirked an eyebrow as she took in the senators bodyguard. Bloody nose, already forming bruise under his eye and a limp in his step that hasn't been there before. "Fuck" both brunettes let out at the same time.

"Hey Captain. Maybe you wanna lay off the liquor?" the tall man's voice interrupted Steve's rant about abortion rights. "Leave this discussion with senator Ernst for another time huh? We don't wanna run into any problems do we?" Steve's eyes took in the man in front of him. He's a professional sure but Steve had fought fucking aliens before. "Wanna take this outside?" It slipped out before he could even think about it. The bodyguard laughed, one hand landing on Steve's shoulder as if it was a joke. Funny banter. But Steve was serious. He was in the middle of telling senator asshat why abortion rights are important. Why women deserve the option to be safe and protected and to choose for their own bodies. Why his fucking religion has nothing to do with an uterus. And this guy has the nerve to think Steve's invitation for a fight is a joke? "I'm serious. Let's take this outside. If I win, senator a... Ernst changes his vote." Steve's voice was dangerous. If Smith hadn't seen him down two and a half bottles of liquor he'd believe he was sober. "Captain... By all means I'm working. I can't just go outside and start a fight over silly little matters." That got Steve's blood boiling. Of course that guy was also stupid. "Ah yes of course..." Steve gave back dryly. His hand moves to shove the senator next to them just a nodge. "And now? Now you gotta do your job and protect senator asshat. I can do so much worse than that." His blue eyes flickered, a smirk on his lips. Just a few minutes later Steve had handed Smiths ass to himself in an alleyway close by.

While Smith stomped off, fuming, Steve downed the rest of the bottle and threw it into a bin. He's drunk, he starts fights but he'll still recycle. Taking a deep breath he looks back to the tower. He couldn't be bothered to go back there. Maybe he could go for a walk? Maybe he could let out all this pent up anger and frustration and do something good with it. This is New York. There were enough criminals for him to use as punching bags right?

"Captain Rogers. Can you please give us a statement as to how you took down this robbery all by yourself?" The blonde in front of him asked, holding the mic a bit too close to his face. He still pleasantly smiled. "Oh uh... I was just in the area and saw it happen... So I swooped in?" He explains, that stupid smile still on his face. As the women asks the next question he just starts to giggle. He runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry... Sorry... It's a serious topic but man Bucky is gonna be so mad at me" he giggles again.

"Damn right I will." Bucky mutters at his phone. There had been several reports of Captain America stopping crime in the last hour and every time one of the team got just a little closer to Steve's apparent location he somehow ended up in a different part of Manhattan. Bucky doesn't even want to know how many fights Steve had started tonight. Never again, he swears. Never again he'll let him get drunk.

After another hour Bucky finally had the blonde in front of him. He was yet again sucked into an interview and passionately ranted about how racism and Nazis suck when Bucky managed to approach. His arms were crossed, his face was stern.

"I think it's important that we show racists... Oh my gosh Bucky is gonna be so mad at me... Uh that we show racists that they're not welcome." Steve says before his eyes find his friend. "Shit." He curses, eyes wide before he runs off. Bucky lets out a sigh and follows him.

To everyone's surprise Natasha managed to lure Steve back to the tower just two hours after Bucky had initially found him. She sets him up with the hangover necessities and leaves him to sleep the alcohol off. Tomorrow would be a big day of fixing whatever mess Steve got into. But that never came. Surprising to everyone Steve did a damn good job and the only 'scandal' that came off this was him saying shit on national TV. Which quickly became a meme.

"I don't regret it. And to be fair this is all of your fault. You wanted to see me drunk and then you invited senator Ernst? You know I hate that guy." Steve said, his arms crossed, his face pouty like a toddler. "Steve you can't just... You ran off and fought people on the street!" Bucky threw his hands in the air. "You shoved the senator so his bodyguard would fight you!" He adds, hoping his friend would see how crazy this was. "I'd do it again." Steve mumbles and looks away from his friends. Bucky lets out an exasperated sigh. "You are such a fucking menace.” He mutters to his best friend who proudly smiles, before addressing the group. “We can never let him get drunk again."

"I don't know, jelly shot Cap seems to be very effective. Maybe we should get him drunk before the next hydra base raid." Tony shrugs, clearly amused by the situation. "No!" Bucky groans. "No. No. No." His frustration is filling the room.

"We can be lucky that this is all he got into. Now let's stop whatever this is and get brunch." Clint suggests, sunglasses on his face, clearly hungover. Steve is very thankful for that. 'Yes Clint. Let's stop this, get brunch and I'll buy you 5 packs of premium coffee beans.' he thinks to himself. Just a few minutes longer and he'd spill what else he got into last night. And he doesn't need the jokes. He doesn't need the judgement. And he certainly doesn't want to share the cute tattoo artist with them -just yet.

#ct 2024 #ct 2024 raffle entry #captain america #captain america imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes #marvel imagine #avengers fanfiction #avengers fic #avengers imagine

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thatonecrookedsmile · 6 months

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You will acept your fate... Before the end..

------

Without much creativity to come up with a good line/phrase. I had to improvise.

It's been exactly 1 year since Bendy and the Dark Revival released...jeez. Already? I'm telling you, time doesn't make sense anymore, everything is going slower and faster at the same time. It's crazy!

I was in the middle of drawing something more specific for the anniversary but…I didn't finish it lol. Like always! But I have this prompt that I finished a few days ago and that I was hoping to post along with 2 more drawings. But I think today is a more ideal day to post this.

So as a anniversary present I give you guys…Angst™. With the boys. Very ideal.

I remember having another idea for this prompt but the current idea popped into my head so I decided to abandon the previous one. I found it more interesting. A "What-if" idea I had at the time the game launched partially inspired by something specific I thought about these two. Based so much on what I've seen and read about these ink creatures, and on the general idea of "2 minds in one".

I confess that in the end I started to question whether this is the way I see the relationship between these 2 and all this business of "two in one package" that they have. And I still don't know if this is really my vision. I just had a drawing idea that I thought was cool and I just stuck with it until the end. I didn't have many second thoughts until I got to the finish line.

Changing the subject: The anniversary.

I can't believe it's been 1 year since this game came out. The time flies! Good to know this finally released after 3 years.

I don't think I've ever talked abouy my thought on the game before,or at least,not the game as a whole. I wanted to leave this for the specific anniversary drawing, but hey. Why not here?

In short: I really liked it! I've been waiting for this game for a good while so when we finally got that final trailer last year, you could say I was pretty excited for the next 2 weeks until release. I don't know if I knew exactly what to expect from this game, and there's always that fear that I won't end up liking what I play when it released. But I really liked it! Loved it, I would say. I had a lot of fun and I believe I can say that, in general, I had a pretty positive experience with it.

Of course, I have my own grievances and complaints about some things in the game (some probably talked about here on Tumblr and others not) that I would like to see improved for next game,The Cage. But even with these complaints in mind, I wouldn't say that it took away my enjoyment of this game. Especially considering that the positive points (or at least what I consider positive in my opinion) for me, prevail over the negative ones.

At the end? Yeah, I really liked Bendy and the Dark Revival. Happy to see it finally released and be able to play it. I personally believe that we are in a good direction when it comes to the games, and I can't wait to see what the future holds.

Happy 1 year anniversary BATDR! And happy birthday to both Little Guy and Big Guy (Little Bendy and the new Ink Demon,respectively).

Love you both.

#Sorry for the length of this post; I just had a lot to say lmao #batdr #bendy and the dark revival #batim #bendy and the ink machine #dapper bendy #cartoon bendy #the ink demon #crookedsmileart #at the end of the day I would say I like both BATIM and BATDR equally #And of course I keep Ink Machine close to my heart; without a doubt #Game changed me #but there's something about Dark Revival that I really love; you know?#Which makes me; on the other hand; say that I like DR more than IM #something that after 1 year I don't know would it be a hot or cold take here on this site lmao #but yeah #big fan of these games #looking foward for The Cage

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zot3-flopped · 2 months

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Two months prior to its release, would-be doyens of Swift’s Tortured Poets Department have taken its barbed track listing very literally, leading to intense, often nefarious speculation regarding Swift’s six-year relationship with the British actor Joe Alwyn, which seemingly ended in early 2023.

The album’s title, revealed onstage at the Grammy awards, was quickly linked to a December, 2022 interview with Alwyn and Paul Mescal in which they revealed that Andrew Scott started their group chat, the Tortured Man Club. (“It hasn’t had much use recently,” Alwyn said: you wonder if it’s undergone a recent revival.) Swift revealed the leading track list a day later: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys, So Long, London, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart, The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived, to name a few, sending fans wild with speculation.

Swift, obviously, has every right to sing about her relationships however she wants to (no apologies to Eamonn Holmes). But in the absence of any music, some fans have spread baseless, dangerous and even libellous allegations about Alwyn’s conduct (which, for obvious reasons, I can’t repeat).

Last month, a brief fan-shot video of them dining in a New Orleans restaurant in December, 2022 was recirculated online with AI-doctored audio that made it sound as though Alwyn is saying “you don’t get to tell me about sad,” a line printed on the back of one of the new album’s four physical editions.

When Swift recently told a crowd that she was “lonely” when writing her 2020 album Folklore – some of which was co-written with Alwyn during the pandemic, a lonely time for most – fans took that as further confirmation of their theories. A live medley of three songs that all appear to reference cheating threw petrol on the fire.

Swift could make this stop. She is no stranger to airing her displeasure with the likes of Ticketmaster, Scooter Braun, Spotify and Apple Music, and, occasionally, politicians. Before she released Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) last year, she gave a veiled speech at one Eras tour date effectively asking fans not to go after John Mayer, whom she dated when she was 19 and he was 32 and is understood to be the subject of that album’s Dear John.

“I am not putting this album out so you should feel the need to defend me on the internet against someone you think I wrote a song about 14m years ago when I was 19,” she said in Minneapolis.

But for whatever reason – and obviously, no member of the public has any idea what transpired between her and Alwyn so far – this time she has opted to stay quiet.

Establishing a baseline for conduct is neither commercially risky nor unprecedented: just last week, Ariana Grande said, after the release of her post-divorce album Eternal Sunshine: “Anyone that is sending hateful messages to the people in my life based on your interpretation of this album is not supporting me and is absolutely doing the polar opposite of what I would ever encourage”.

It feels like the endgame of a cat-and-mouse act that’s gone too far. Swift’s gestures towards meaning have led every single thing she does to be considered a kind of marketing, a clue to be solved. It leaves a superstar who’s usually hot on her messaging open to misinterpretation: hints about her personal life are turned by some fans into witch-hunts for anyone perceived to have wronged her; her current silence on politics allows politicians to invoke her name, from the New South Wales police commissioner quoting Swift’s anti-haters lines while defending police to Joe Biden joking that the matter of her apparently much sought-after endorsement is “classified” on Late Night With Seth Meyers.

When Swift made a blandly neutral handwritten post encouraging US citizens to register to vote on Super Tuesday, some fans speculated that her unusual left-leaning handwriting was the real indication of her loyalties – suggesting they’re so starved of substance that they’re reading into empty messages because of this dynamic she has established. (The more likely explanation is the insane way she holds a pen.)

For Swift to only direct fans as to her wishes when it suits her, it weakens her status as a truth-teller. If the comparisons with Dickinson mean anything, she might remember that nothing in the world has as much power as a word feels like the endgame of a cat-and-mouse act that’s gone too far.

#taylor swift #anti taylor swift #joe alwyn #travis kelce #the tortured poets department #the critics are not going to be kind to this album #she's too rich & successful to be so bitchy & vindictive #laura snapes

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klbwriting · 3 months

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Not Romeo and Not Juliet

Chapter 1: Mingle Yarn

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: fighting, mentions of broken bones and blood

Summary: Jason Todd was alive again. Not only that, but he was back in high school, living with Dick Grayson, and just trying to get by without anyone noticing him. That doesn't go as planned.

Notes: Here it is! Dueling prep schools! Enemies to Lovers! Theater Nerds! Shakespeare! A true rom-com! Jason as a senior and a theater kid! I'm messing with the canon immensely so let's just call this an AU or Elseworlds story where Jason was killed in a similar way to Under the Red Hood movie, but instead of the LoA going and getting him Dick has the falling out with Bruce over Jason's death and he goes to resurrect him without Bruce knowing. He takes Jason to live with him in Bludhaven and enrolls him in Bludhaven Prep so that he can readjust to living and to leaving Robin behind. I hope you enjoy!

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together

— ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL, ACT 4 SCENE 3

“Jason, you have to get going or you’re going to be late,” Dick Grayson called through the apartment. He knew Jason wasn’t exactly excited to start his senior year of high school and he couldn’t blame him if he was being honest. Just a month ago Jason had been murdered by a clown and just a week ago he had been revived in a pit of green goo protected by assassins. They had only agreed to let Dick revive him because they were the reason Jason was even killed in the first place, so it was honestly the least they could do. Dick was still coming to terms with who came out of the pit, not Jason but not not Jason either. While pre-Lazarus Pit Jason had been happy, funny, and kind of scrawny, this Jason was moody, stoic, and big. He wasn’t sure how the 17-year-old had gone from around skinny 5’8 to a jacked 6’1 during a bath but it was what it was. Now he was staying in Dick’s Penthouse in Bludhaven, Bruce had no idea he was alive, and he was starting his senior year at Bludhaven Prep and Dick was hoping getting him back out there with kids his own age would help him readjust to living again. The therapist that Dick hired, the one Clark Kent recommended, had given approval for him to return, saying he was mentally able to be around others, but considering no one knew how the pit might affect him they would still be watching him closely. Dick stood very still in the dining room, waiting until he heard feet stomping down the stairs from the loft area that Jason had taken as his room.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he grumbled, sitting down in front of the plate of eggs and bacon that Dick had made for him. Jason took two bites and made a face. “I am making breakfast from now on, this tastes like shit.” Dick rolled his eyes as he watched Jason clean his plate of the ‘shit’. “Why am I going to school again anyway? Bruce pulled me out to be homeschooled when I was freshman.”

“Ya Bruce also had you running around in tights and you’re not doing that anymore either. At least not until we know that no side effects from the pit are going to cause problems,” Dick said, putting a bookbag on the chair next to Jason. Jason glanced at the bag and then at Dick. Dick was once again struck by how different Jason was, yet he could still see the kid Jason was in those eyes. They weren’t same, they could never settle on what color they wanted to be, blue like before, green like the pit, even brown sometimes, a muddied version of the two. But the vulnerability was there, even though Jason was desperately trying to hide it.

“Fine, I see your point,” Jason muttered, grabbing the backpack before heading to the bookshelf. He grunted. “You need better books, honestly, some actual literature would be nice.” He gave up on finding something, grabbed his phone and took off towards Bludhaven Prep.

The car ride over was nice, then the rest of the day started. Jason knew he was weird, new kid as a senior, eyes that didn’t know what they were, and that black hair with the one tuft of white streaking across the front. He would be as rich as his big brother if he had a dollar for every time someone asked him about that during the first class alone. By the time the day was over he was so tightly wound he wanted to bust. It didn’t help that some football player had decided that Jason was going to be his target for the year. It started with an ‘accidental’ tray drop at lunch that left yogurt and milk across his new sneakers. Then in study hall a football to the back of the head. Finally, what really broke Jason, was the walk from the front of the school to the back where the cars were lined up. Jason was straggling, hoping that the jock would have gone first, and he might have peace, but no. He started walking around the side of the school, no one around at first, when from the back came the jock and two friends. The guy was cracking his knuckles like he was some gangster in a movie. Jason rolled his eyes and dropped his bag, knowing where this was going.

“You seem to think you can just come in and take over my school,” the jock said. Jason let out an annoyed breath. He hadn’t spoken to a single person that, hadn’t raised his hand once, he had barely listened, why did the fact that he was an inch taller than this guy make the jock so insecure? He didn’t want to deal with it.

“Can you just try and hit me, and we can get this over with?” Jason asked. The jock’s friends let out snorts of laughter and that seemed to enrage their leader, who threw a wild punch that Jason dodged easily and then Jason threw a jab right at the guy’s face. He did forget that he was bigger now, stronger than before. He was surprised by the blood, but the ear shattering crack of bone and the shriek that the guy let out did surprise him. Jason took off, running around the back of the school and jumping into the car to get home. Great, first day and he had probably just broken that guy’s eye socket. He was getting expelled. At least he wouldn’t have to wear the student uniform anymore.

By the time he got back Dick was already on the phone with the headmaster. Dick pointed at the couch and Jason sat, not wanting to but he knew it was pointless to argue. Dick had literally brought him back to life, he could sit there and take his punishment without argument. He had just shattered a guy’s face; he probably deserved the tongue lashing.

“-I understand but you have to remember that there were no cameras, no actual witnesses other than this Mr. Harrison’s friends, it seems like a he said, he said situation which will not make anyone on the school board happy. Especially when I pull my funding for the new football stadium,” he said. Jason rolled his eyes. Dick had definitely graduated from the Bruce Wayne school for getting out of shit. “Of course, I am glad that we could work this out. And of course, any injuries will be taken care of, but no mention of who the fight was with? Thank you so much for your discretion.” Dick hung up and rounded on Jason. “Care to explain?”

“Some football asshole decided I was too tall for him,” Jason said. Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember why he had decided to take in a teenager. “Did you have to break his orbital bone?”

“I forgot about my biceps being the size of my head,” he mumbled. Dick actually chuckled at that. “He threw the first punch…”

“You look uninjured…”

“You think I would let an idiot like that hit me?” Jason looked shocked. Dick sighed and looked at his watch. Then at his phone clock, like it would be much different.

“I am going to be late for my date with Barbara, stay here tonight, get your homework done, there’s food in the fridge and tomorrow we can talk about this more,” Dick said, buttoning his suit jacket and grabbing his wallet. Jason just nodded, pulling out a book that he had gotten at the school library. That at least had more options than Dick’s place. Dick took one more glance at Jason before leaving.

Around 9PM Jason was starting to climb the walls. He had this nervous energy and he didn’t know how to relieve it. He tried to think of something. Parkour? No, he was angry. Video arcade? No, not enough movement. Then he remembered the underground fights that he and Batman had once raised over in his old neighborhood, Crime Alley. He figured the fights were probably back by now, they wouldn’t be down for long. He knew he couldn’t show his face, Dick didn’t need the stress of him being caught in Gotham, or God forbid Bruce finding him, so headed down to the garage that Dick kept on site. He started searching the sports equipment that he had, grabbing an old school goalie’s mask. Very Friday the 13th, and hey, his name was Jason. But the white, no, that wasn’t his color. He looked around, finding some spray paint in another section and he painted the mask red. Nice. He grabbed an old black hoodie, shoved the mask inside the pocket and taking one of Dick’s bikes.

It took him about ten minutes to remember how to drive a motorcycle, apparently death didn’t keep memories of driving in his brain. He almost wiped out five or six times before finally crossing over into Robbinsville and then up into Crime Alley. He stowed the bike behind a dumpster near a Big Belly Burger before heading into a laundromat. He walked to the counter that was helmed by a short woman with dyed blonde hair.

“I’ve come for some good smelling socks,” he said. He hoped these types didn’t get change their code phrases, it was the only one he remembered. The woman nodded and pressed a button, motioning to the side door that said ‘Employees Only’. Jason went through the door and down the stairs, donning his mask. The guy waiting at the bottom looked him over.

“50$ to watch, 100$ to fight,” he said. Jason nodded and turned over his 100$ and the guy pointed him to another woman with a clipboard. Jason headed over to her.

“Name?” she asked. Jason scrambled. “Name?” she repeated, louder and more annoyed. The other fights nearby were starting to watch him. They weren’t too much bigger than him, he might have a good chance. Either way he could blow off some steam.

“Mask of the Red Death,” he said. She cocked an eyebrow and shook her head.

“Too long, you’re Red Mask,” she said. He nodded, very creative. Poe would be proud. “You’re finding Butch first.” She pointed to a large man with muscles in places Jason didn’t know you could have them. They were for show, not strength, not fighting. This guy wanted to look good, not actually be good. Jason watched him as they entered the makeshift cage. He circled the guy, letting him come to him. Butch threw a punch, Jason dodged behind him, and Spartan kicked him in the ass, sending him tripping into the glorified fence surrounding them. The fight went on for only a few more seconds before the guy came back, trying to kick Jason, who slide to the side, grabbed the guy’s leg and slammed his elbow into his knee. There was a crunch and Butch fell, howling in pain, unable to get up. Jason was announced the winner and stepped out, heading towards a back door to get some air. As he opened the door to the basement walkout, he heard a commotion and turned, seeing cops starting to come down the stairs. He knew they would be going to the back door next, so he took off, mask going back in his pocket and climbing a nearby fire escape until he was high enough to hide in the shadows above the streetlight. Once the cops that found the back were inside, he climbed down, running to the alley where he’d left the bike. He was just moving the dumpster again when the back door to the Big Belly Burger opened, making him jump in surprise and slice his hand on an exposed piece of metal inside the trash. He let out a grunt and the teenage girl in uniform turned to face him.

“Are you ok?” she asked, walking over. Jason was gripping his hand, trying to stop the bleeding so he could get the bike and leave. “Hold on, I have a bandage.” She pulled out a roll box of bandaids from the apron pocket.

“Clumsy are you?” Jason asked, trying to distract from the annoying ache in his palm. She chuckled and walked over, pulling a cotton ball out of the packet.

“No, we have a griller who thinks he’s a ninja, any time he gets his hand on a knife I have to be ready to stitch him up,” she said. She started dabbing his hand and Jason once again hissed. “What music do you like?”

“I uh…I don’t know, I used to like metal, some alternative stuff, but went through a change this summer…not sure anymore,” he said, confused. “Why?”

“Well, one this is distracting you from me disinfecting this thing, so you don’t get tetanus, and two, you live in Crime Alley, don’t be a stereotype. If you think you might like something different than ‘I grew up in the slums, so I just listen to angry shit’ try Noah Kahan, you look like a guy who’d like him, or Hozier.” He could tell she was just throwing out names to keep him listening and he appreciated it. “What’s your name?”

“Jason,” he said. She nodded and smiled, finishing with the bandage.

“Nice to meet you, I’m YN,” she said. “Want some help with the dumpster or are all those muscles working?” She winked at him, and he actually blushed, glad it was dark and she might not notice.

“Sure,” he said. Together they moved the dumpster, and he got the bike. He waved quick before driving back to the penthouse. He got as far as the elevator door, when it opened there was Dick.

“So, I see you had an interesting evening,” he said, holding up his phone where video of Jason breaking Butch’s leg was being shown. Of course, Dick would realize it was him, he would know that move anywhere, Dick had taught it to him.

“I needed to get out, blow off some steam, forget who I was for a bit,” he said. Dick nodded.

“Good, then what I just signed you up for will be perfect,” he said. Jason looked at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re not a member of the theater program, auditions for Hamlet are Friday.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jason said, heading out of the elevator.

“I am very serious, you go to school, go to practice, be someone else for awhile when you’re there, and then you come home and you stay here or I am calling Bruce and sending you back to him, see how Batman deals with your shit,” he said. Jason sighed, heading up to his room. Fine, theater, he’d wanted to do that before Bruce pulled him from high school. How bad could it be?

#jasontodd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #redhood #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #notromeo

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msbarrybeeson · 2 months

Text

Before You Go - P.6 | Future Donatello & April O’Neil Insight

(Reader Included)

A/N: Any constructive criticism is appreciated. Reader comments and feedback are also welcomed a lot.

I have been gone for a long time. Just occupied with my studies! No fan fiction author curse or anything (yet).

Summary: You’re both adopting-parents of Casey. The story follows the perspective of Donatello and April O’Neil during the Kraang apocalypse. You and Leonardo decided to ask them to watch over thirteen-year-old Casey.

In other words, familial interactions between April, Donnie, and Casey Jr.

Reader: Gender-neutral pronouns are used, except the terms “(Mom / Dad)” are also used. Second POV.

Pairing: Rise! Future! Leonardo X Reader

Warnings: Bittersweet.

Word Count: ~3490

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / ...

Donnie knew how much of a genius he was.

It was no surprise after all. In his late teens, he improved NASA’s satellites to communicate with planets light centuries away. He cured breast cancer through the use of protons in radiation therapy to target specific cells, rather than affecting the harmless. Hell, he even managed to discover a new type of radioactive particles: mutons. By that point, he—.

“—should have been given a Nobel Prize in Medicine and in Chemistry.” Donnie cursed under his breath. He strolled over to his lab bench, equipping his goggles.

Squeeeak.

April– who was found seated on Donnie’s roughed-up, spinning gaming chair– raised an eyebrow. Her hair had grown out and was left unbounded. Faint wrinkles and eye bags on her features displayed maturity, in contrast to a couple of years ago. However, everyone was well aware that time was not the only factor.

“Whatcha going on about now, Donnie?”

The softshell huffed. “Recall when I wrote a report about my experimental findings with an invention meant to revive a deceased human being?”

“...You mean the one where you thought it was a good idea to open up Curie’s tomb? Even gone as far as to ask for my help?” April grimaced. “Who’d ever forget that.”

She proceeded to massage her temples.

“God. You were in all kinds of messed up for that, Don.”

Lightning-like yellow sparks flickered as Donnie had his robotic hands occupied with a butane torch. His goggles were sealed tight around his eyes as he built a oval-looking device on his lab bench. Titanium outer-layer over a seriously complex circuit-board; appearing as if Samsung marketed grenades.

He scoffed. “Oh please. It wasn’t as if I’d taken long to understand how Marie Curie deserves her rest for her great contributions to radiation. Thus is why–.”

“–You decided to take a poor random husband of an old wife,” April interjected.

“Ahem.” Donnie pronounced. “The poor woman was begging me for her husband to be alive again. I was simply gracious and generous enough to not charge her for the process.” He set aside the butane torch. “At least it progressed well; he stayed alive for an additional two years. It gave his wife psychological comfort, and I was able to submit my paper to the N.S.F..”

He picked up a screwdriver. “Except....”

April could tell her friend’s eye was twitching.

“They rejected my findings, nearly had me detained, and claimed it was far too ‘unethical.’” Donnie raised his volume. “Scoff! As if those researchers weren’t committing the crime themselves! Taking bodies away from families and claiming them as scientific property without permission.

If I could go back in time and shove my documents in their jaws, you bet I would.”

April smirked. “Well, I have my regrets too, Donnie.”

“You sound rather amused, April. Is that so surprising? And here I never thought you would regret your part-time job at Albearto’s. Or the fact you wasted money to switch to journalism in university.”

WHACK!

April threw her bat at Donnie’s head, flying back to her hand like a boomerang.

“Watch your mouth, mister. I may have regretted Albearto’s, but not a single moment in my life did I ever regret my journalism passion.” She stood up.

“Ouch.” The softshell vocalized, squinting his eyes toward her. His robotic clampers paused, setting aside the torch and taking off his goggles.

“Mind yourself, April. Horse-playing is forbidden in the laboratory. I am not consenting to having yet another silver-titanium apparatus get scratched because of you.” Donnie gritted his teeth. “Can you hear the negative connotation?”

“Seriously, Donnie? Where’d that come from? Not only was that years ago but it ain’t anything except a simple accident.”

“‘Simple accident?’” the softshell repeated with dramatic offense. “An accident, like many others in science labs, which could have caused severe damage! Remember the incident when your teacher dumped bleach and vinegar into the trash bin?

You know, if you had paid any attention in your chemistry class, those two would make mustard gas?” Donnie side-eyed his friend. “Simple accidents can have serious consequences, O’Neil.”

A hand crept up the lab bench.

“Uh-huh, and I’m supposed to believe an instance of me knocking over your phone and books would kill somebody?” April crossed her arms. “If anything, the blame’s yours for not organizing your desk when you got drunk on coffee.”

The hand took ahold of the butane torch.

“Donatello? Disorganized? Sounds cheap coming from you, a student majoring in Journalism.”

April pulled up her coat’s sleeves. “Oh boy, you’re about to get it—.”

Squeeeak!

Heads spun and found a 13-year old boy, replacing April’s spot on Donnie’s chair. Casey eyed the torch with a great yet concerning amount of curiosity.

“Yo, what’s this for, Uncle Don?”

At lightning speed, while April ran to move the gaming chair away further from the workbench, Donnie snatched the tool from his hands. “Child. Casey. Young man.” The softshell heaved loudly. “I must inform you this is NOT meant to be handled with such casual ease. How in Hawking did you even—.”

“Don’t your lab have a passcode or something?”

“–Is what I am wondering myself, O’Neil. I refuse to believe this child remembers the beginning thirty numbers of π–.”

“Nope, only us.” April and Donnie lifted their gazes to his lab entrance. You leaned on the frame while a dear red-eared slider stood just behind. A couple of steps inside, and the metallic lab door shut close.

Donnie– strangely– was quick to hide his device-in-progress off to the side.

“You’re back!” April grinned. “Hell, you would not believe the convo Donnie and I were having a minute ago.” She hurried to hug you.

“Figures,” Leo remarked. “We could practically hear you yards off.”

“Sounds like things never get old.” You smiled.

There was a side-eye between Donnie and April, before the Commander proceeded to inquire, coughing: “Anyhow.. care to explain the occasion? You two don’t seem to be in a hurry.”

“The only times you ever visit my laboratory are to prepare for immediate combat engagement, and you look awfully collected.” The softshell furrowed his brows.

“No, no.” You waved your hands, shaking your head. “Thank God no. We came here to ask if you two could take care of our Casey here while we head out.” The other turtle scrunched his in-quote eyebrows. “You— You came here to request us to... babysit him?”

April jabbed him in his plastron.

“You see? Just like I said.” Leo turned to you. “I know my brother, love. Don’s not the kind of guy to take responsibility for a kid. Or anyone, really.”

“Hold on.” Donnie narrowed his eyes. “I never said I refused, Leo.”

“Don’t know, it sounds like it to me.”

“Well, my misinformed brother, contrary to your belief, I am perfectly capable of handling a child.”

You huffed with amusement. Your husband only winked back.

“If you say so, Don.”

“Where are you two heading off for if you needed us to watch over him?” April inquired. “Wondering, ‘cause this never happened even when you two leave for patrol.”

“Just finding some time for ourselves.”

April exclaimed, “As in a honeymoon? Why not just say so? We’ll leave you two alone–.”

“–In this economy and climate?” Donnie interjected. “Has it also not been six years since your yet-to-be-legal marriage?”

“Alright, alright,” Leonardo chuckled. “Cut us some slack, bro. Finding time wasn’t easy when there’s Kraang above our necks.”

“Right, and you’re going on a honeymoon, how?” The softshell crossed his arms. “Simply because you’re the leader does not equate to you making wise decisions, Leo.”

“His ōdachi can teleport anyone to anyplace, we have some hope we can easily teleport to a remote area,” you answered. “One without Kraang infestation. It’ll be hard, but we may as well try.”

“Bonus points if we find clear skies and an ocean.” The red-eared turtle grinned, wrapping his arm over your shoulders.

“What’s a honeymoon, (Mom / Dad)?”

Your hand went to caress Casey’s cheek. “Parent quality time. It just means you get to handle yourself like the responsible grown-up you’ll become one day. Just promise me you’ll be on your best behavior around Uncle Don and Auntie April?”

“I promise, (Mom / Dad)!”

“Good boy,” Leo laughed, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“You didn’t ask Mikey and Raph to help out too, or?”

“Between you and me, I think you guys are better of making sure Casey doesn’t get into any chaos,” you whispered to April. “Don’t tell them that, though.”

She laughed. “Okay, I see how it is. You both have fun.”

Donnie bit his lip. Right as Leonardo and (Name) turn to exit the laboratory, he extended his arm out to them.

“Leo, (Name).”

You two faced back to him once more.

“Don’t kill yourselves out there.”

Everyone’s eyes widened– April, you, and Leonardo himself. But the brother in blue snickered, holding a smile that reached his eyes. “So you do also care for me, Don. And all this time I thought you were plotting to put me in my grave or something.”

“We won’t.” Leo placed a hand on your shoulder. “You got my word.”

“Bye (Mom / Dad)! Bye Papa!”

“We’ll be back soon, Casey!”

Donnie stood in silence as you finally left, leaving himself with none other than his best friend and his nephew. “I refuse to believe this is the future we have to deal with.”

“Times changed all of us, didn’t they?” April spoke. “One day we wish each other a good one, and the next, we hope we just don’t die. I could’ve been a famous news anchor by now, make my mother happy, fight crime without worrying about dying the next second.

..I wonder if there’s anyone else out there besides the small number of us down here.”

“..I doubt it.”

Donnie pulled himself together and walked back to his workbench, operating his clampers to work once again. He put on his goggles. Casey, being a young teenager of enthusiasm, peeked over.

“Watch yourself, boy,” April warned.

“Don’t worry about me, Auntie. I’m only standing over here.” Casey narrowed his eyes upon the glowing and metal-like ball his uncle had his tools on. “What are you working on, Uncle Don?”

“A sphere.”

“A sphere?”

“You heard correctly.”

“That sounds kind of boring.”

Donnie had to hold himself back from remarking with: ‘That is exactly what every child whose intellect is doomed would say.’

“I’m sure your mother would find it rather moving.”

“(Mom / Dad)? I don’t understand what’s emotional about a ball, though.”

“Hey Casey.” April coughed. “Why not tell us about your mask here? Haven’t taken a good look at it before. Maybe Uncle Don would like to hear it too.”

“You actually want me to talk about my mask?”

“Ain’t a problem, is it?”

“No.” He fidgeted with his fingers a bit. “You don’t have anything else to do?”

“We were just told to watch over you, kid.”

“Yeah, but everyone I know is always busy with the Kraang or supplying weapons. I never really get chances to hang out.”

There was a brief pause in the butane torch’s flame.

April’s expression softened. Her hand came up to brush his black hair. “Things have gotten calmer up there. So you’ve got plenty of time with us now.”

Casey smiled.

“So your mask?”

The boy alternated between covering his face and removing it. “(Mom / Dad) gave it to me. She told me it is based on the one worn by my biological mother. (Mom / Dad) also said that my birth mother was kind of crazy-funny and likes to be loud. She would have a stick to play– what was it– hockey?

I don’t know what kind of game hockey is supposed to be, but I guess it’s nice to know how life was like before all the Kraang.”

A sad smile crept on April’s lips.

“Anyways, I thought the mask looked kind of plain, so I decided to draw red marks on it. See?” Casey showed his mask off, fingers tapping the surface. “Guess who it looks like!”

There were two bold and thick streaks of red. Each one ran through one eye, truly a defining characteristic. The Commander chuckled, already imagining how much pride her friend in blue would feel from the fact a kid– let alone one he had been parenting– looked up to him so much.

“You know, I am seeing someone familiar here.” April hummed as she put on a thoughtful facade. Fingers holding her chin and everything. “Got to be Uncle Don.”

Named turtle paused for a moment and raised a brow.

“Seriously, Auntie April?” On the other hand, Casey gave her an incredulous look and shook his head. “You probably want to get your eyes checked out, ‘cause Uncle Don doesn’t have any red stripes.” Off to the side. “And even if he did, he won’t look as cool as Dad.”

April snickered behind her palm as Donnie eyed the boy from behind his goggles.

“You’re right, you’re right. Just messing with you, kid.” Her hand ruffled his hair once more. “Sounds like you really admire your Papa, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Dad has an awesome sword that opens up portals. He always moves so quickly whenever he’s fighting. Bam! And the Kraang’s gone!” The teenager stretched his arm for emphasis. “Even as the leader, Papa knows when to get serious and when to make people laugh. He also cares a lot about me, (Mom / Dad), you guys, and everyone!”

It made even Donnie himself smile.

However, the way Casey’s enthusiasm died down had not gone unnoticed. “I’ve always wanted to help out though.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I want to fight the Kraang right by his and (Mom / Dad)’s side. Except I barely get the chance to, because they keep telling me to stay close to base and hide behind a giant rock.”

April crossed her arms and went quiet. His feelings were nothing new. In fact, she experienced the same thing herself, seeing she had always been a human. It was like that until–.

“Have no hard feelings,” Donnie spoke up, his hands and eyes remained on his spheric gadget. The sparks were flying. “Your parents are merely worried about your well-being.”

“I know, I know. They won’t have to though, if I can have enough training or something.” Casey sighed. “Then again, I also know I’m only a normal sensitive human.

...Why can’t I be a mutant instead?”

“Ahem. You are classified as a human. That is a true statement and one you cannot change.” Donnie hummed. “However, that does not mean you cannot be strong and capable in other ways.”

“Why does it sound like you’ve been in my place before?”

“Perhaps I did. Did you truly think being a soft-shell turtle is easy? I happened to be born as one of the only Testudines species whose outer shell cannot protect.” Donnie remarked. “Casey, your mask.” His hand signaled.

“What about my mask?”

“I merely want to add something.”

Confused, he hopped off the chair and handed the mask over. “Hmm. As long as you don’t mess with the stripes, Uncle Don.”

“Who says I won’t?”

Casey kicked Donnie’s leg.

“‘Ow,’ I say sarcastically without feeling physical pain.”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms. “Why do you keep saying things like that?”

“Such as?”

“You say those action verbs, even when you’re already doing them.”

April snorted. “Just his thing, kid. Uncle Don’s got his special quirks.”

“Do you have a quirk?”

“Picking unnecessary fights for one,” Donnie commented.

“You only call them ‘unnecessary,’ because you never want to fix the problem.”

He rolled his eyes. “My solution would’ve been ten times more efficient if you had allowed my technology and I to do the work.”

Casey wondered. “Does your tech ever go haywire, Uncle Don?”

“No.”

“Oh man,” April began, “you should’ve been there for this one time. Your Uncle Don was building some kind of overprotective bed to keep your late Gramps from waking up from his beauty sleep.”

“Gramps likes to sleep?”

“You’d be surprised to hear that he sure does.”

“Then what happened?”

“Uncle Don asked your Dad, Uncle Mikey, and Uncle Raph to try punching, slicing, throwing whatever they could on the bed. They were attacking it like crazy!”

“And then?”

“And the bed was even more insane, ‘cause there were actual missiles shooting out! They went straight for his brothers. At some point, it got overboard, so Uncle Don tried to command it to stop.”

“I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”

“But it malfunctioned and thought Uncle Don was the enemy!”

“However!” Donnie pointed his finger up, interrupting the story-telling. “It did not take long for my creation to recognize his master.”

“Still went haywire in my book,” April remarked.

“Ignoring that.” His robotic hand tapped the edge of his workbench, grabbing Casey’s attention. “Come here, young man.” He slid back the mask, except in his hands, it felt as if the frame had thicken.

“It looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same?”

“Try wearing it over your face.”

The boy did as told. All of a sudden, a bunch of green rectangles and words appeared in his vision. He gasped in awe. He spun around slowly, watching the rectangle focus on a figure through the wall.

“Yes yes, I know. I am well aware of how amazing I am.” Donnie huffed in pride. “I have opted to construct an interface with your mask. I cannot see why you shouldn’t have something to defend yourself with,” he reasoned. “I have other updates in mind later on. As of now, however, your mask will help you detect life forms across other rooms or through other objects.”

“That’s so cool!” The boy hesitated though. “But I don’t want to break it or anything.”

“Hey.” April rested her hand on Casey’s shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “Our resources are already scarce. Using then losing them is better than nothing. You better make the most of our tech. Understood, soldier?”

Casey grinned underneath his mask. He fixed his posture up and saluted. “Gotcha–! Understood, Commander!”

He faced the inventor, whose hands were already back to being occupied with the “sphere.” “Thanks so much, Uncle Don!” Casey exclaimed, leaping towards the turtle to give a tight hug. “You’re the best!”

Upon contact, Donnie stiffened up, but his lack of experience with physical touch did not prevent a smile forming on his face. He extended a robotic arm, patting Casey’s back.

The boy then scanned around curiously with his mask. “Hey! Think I spot Uncle Mikey and Uncle Raph two floors down! They’re holding hands over a table or something. Why are so many people circling around them?”

April rolled her eyes. “Sounds like another arm-wrestling match between the our youngest and oldest brother.”

Just like that, Casey booked it out of the laboratory so quickly, it reminded her of a certain red-eared slider. “What the–! Casey!” April groaned. “And here I thought we don’t have to deal with runaway kids. I better catch up to him.”

“Would not worry about him too much,” Donnie commented.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Considering we will not always be alive to protect him... the sooner we leave him to himself, the easier it will be for him to survive alone.”

“Hey. Come on now.” April walked to her best friend’s side. “Don’t you say things like that. We’re all going to survive this together–.”

“April.” Slight pain wavered in his voice. “You know as well as I do how our current reality is. It is only a matter of time before the Kraang finds everyone.”

“Yet you’re still here trying.”

No response.

“It’s all because of the kid, isn’t it?” April affirmed. “He ain’t any genius prodigy you were expecting long ago. But he gave you a reason to try– he became someone worth fighting for.”

“I would not put it as simply as that.”

She shrugged. “That’s how I’d say it. You know you’re not the only one whose life changed because of Casey.”

Donnie paused his work, turning off the butane torch and finally pulling his goggles off his eyes again. “...Casey reminds me of when we were young, being rash and immature teenagers like any other. I hate admitting to such thing, but I was one too. And I hate admitting much more how much I missed those times.

The child has known nothing of the trouble we’ve experienced outside, April: when Cassandra was killed, when Draxum was torn apart, when Dad decided to sacrifice himself despite the slim odds.” His hands clenched into fists.

“Do not expect me to have any false hope for our future, but do not assume I would want Casey to feel the same way. For as long as he can, I want him to hold onto that false hope.”

“...” April had her arms crossed. Her eyes slowly came to linger on the workbench. “Is that ‘sphere’ his false hope?”

“..No. Not his.” Donnie traced his thumb over his contraption. “It’s for (Name).”

#rottmnt donnie #rise donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt april #rise april #rottmnt casey jones #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt movie #rottmnt leo x reader #reader insert #tmnt #rottmnt x reader

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raainberry · 3 months

Text

Chocolate Heart

« A strong, sweet love. »

Dahyun x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - confessing to your crush on valentines day very rarely goes as planned anyway

wordcount - 3K

T/W - Food, young love, crushes all that good valentine’s stuff, soft cuss word

A/N - shoutout @saiiidahyunee its as long as it took for me to write about Dahyun im so sorry💀

“Congratulations!”

The cheerful word caused you nothing but chills and fright. You blinked at the two class presidents standing before you, grinning as though disturbing your nap was the most fun thing in the world.

“For what?” You mumbled half asleep. Unless you were out for months, it wasn’t your birthday yet. Neither had you accomplished anything worth celebrating.

“For possibly going on a date in the next few weeks!” One of them cheered once more while the other revealed a pen and paper from behind her back.

“What?”

The girl ignored the utter confusion on your face and shoved the pen into your hand before sliding the paper accross the table you were so comfortably napping on a minute ago.

“Do you have a crush?” Her co-president asked, and you could tell his tone went beyond the required professionalism. Just plain nosy.

You sighed as you finally realized what this ambush was about: the whole Valentines Day love campaign your school loved to put up every year in order to help fund whatever was in need.

The concept itself was fun and harmless: class presidents chasing their classmates down the halls, offering to confess to your crush for you in exchange of a couple bucks.

Deal of the year for a lot of high-schoolers, and it wasn’t even done badly. The whole thing was cute; a fresh, red rose they delivered anonymously on your behalf on D-Day. While they filled the school’s pockets, you got to see your crush smile at least once thanks to you. To a young teenager foolishly in love, the sight was priceless.

Even if you drew the shortest end of the deal—a.k.a your crush not giving a damn—they’d never know who it was from anyway. Saved you a lot of embarrassment, which in all honesty was just as priceless.

“No, I don’t have a crush.” You answered him, and the way his features noticeably fell was particularly satisfying.

“Do you now? Don’t you think we’re a little too old not to notice these things?” The girl wiped the small smirk off your lips and you blinked. “We’ve been in the same classroom all week for four years, we’ve seen the way you treat the new girl.”

The seat suddenly felt uncomfortable underneath your legs. “What does that even mean—I don’t treat her any different than I do you guys.” You chuckled, nerves unfortunately too clear for the guy not to revive his own hope.

“Sure you don’t.” The girl smiled, the pull at her lips borderline fake. “But you haven’t walked any of us home yet, have you?”

You shifted in your seat once more. “We happen to live in the same neighborhood. If you’re jealous just say that.”

The girl’s smile seemed to falter for a second, dropping only to stretch itself wider and brighter than before. You caught her clutching the small stack of paper tighter against her chest, causing you to knit your eyebrows together.

You weren’t oblivious. At least not more than she claimed herself to be. You had your fair share of secret admirers across the years, a few roses sent your way; but it was no secret that you never pulled on any of the strings thrown your way by the bravest of them.

“As if.” She shrugged off and you nodded, appreciating how she stuck to her role.

There was never any want nor need on your end. A relationship was never an idea on your mind, but it doesn’t mean you couldn’t and didn’t have a harmless thing for someone here and there.

All unrequited, as per the majority of high-school love, but you managed to find the fun of it. Silly jokes and random eye-contact rushes were satisfying enough.

Until she came along.

“Anyway—”

“So do you like her or not?” The boy cut her off, saving you both from an uncomfortable moment only to send the three of you into a silence of that same nature.

You hoped your lack of answers would get them off your back, but the longer it lasted, the more it proved their suspicions to be right.

You could see the delight on the boy’s features grow as much as the frown on the girl’s. You ignored the latter for as long as it took for her to cover it up before she tapped the paper in front of you.

“It’s our last year.” She spoke up. Her voice was softer than you were used to. It caught you off guard. “You might regret not participating at least once.”

Whatever, you thought, looking down at all the names already written down. Might as well, she won’t know anyway.

You gripped the pen, following your hand as your fingers painted the name of the girl you’d come to care so much about.

Kim Dahyun - Senior Class B

“Here.” You slammed the pen against the table. “Happy?”

“The two dollars.”

You looked up at them and sighed once more.

“Kind of a scam but okay…” You mumbled, reaching into your pockets for the remaining change of your allowance.

The bill was inconvenient. Sure it wasn’t much, but when you’ve been cut off for the next two months because of a silly prank… Might as well say you’d bet your whole fortune on this crush. It sounded cool anyway. Your grandkids would eat this up.

—

Valentine came around quick, and you spent all day watching people receive roses in all corners of the school.

Young love filled the air, time was nothing if not stuck in this carefree atmosphere roaming with still naive and hopeful spirits. As much as you would have liked to be cool about it all, you weren’t an exception. You couldn’t help but wonder whether Dahyun had received hers or not.

Maybe in sixty years you’ll probably laugh at the memory, but in the moment it didn’t feel half as funny.

From eight in the morning, all you could do was stress over whether she’d accept it or not. Would she even like it? If she had, did she smile as brightly as you wanted her to? Had it made her as happy as you hoped? Granted she wouldn’t know who it was from, but you hoped the gesture would actually make her smile. Your heart couldn’t stay still in your chest, eager yet nervous to see her.

You waited all day to see her, looking out at every corner of each room and hallway you walked in for a glimpse of her pretty, dark and long hair, fair skin, and cute nose appreciating whatever scent was left of that cheap flower.

By 4pm, she was still nowhere to be seen. Was she avoiding you? Did she even get that dang flower?

The bell rung the end of your last classes for the day, and you took out your frustrations out on your poor locker. You hadn’t opened its door this aggressively since you got detention for sleeping in class. Something very infuriating in failing at what you usually master.

Whatever, at least you helped the school.

You got your bag off your shoulder, glancing inside the locker for your books only to find… a rose? Had she sent it back to you?

You winced at the thought, the pinch in your heart taking you by surprise.

So this is heartbreak…, you sighed reaching for the flower. If that wasn’t painful enough, one of the thorns poked your finger and you almost laughed at life’s comedic timing.

You watched the small wound on your skin as it reddened slowly. It’ll heal fast enough. Couldn’t say the same for the one in your chest though.

This was the stupidest idea ever, why did you even give in to their pressure…

You wiped your finger on your shirt, a small stain you’d come to regret later but held very little importance in your eyes when a small card fell to the ground.

The book you’d grabbed felt heavier with each second you took to identify where it had come from. The only logical answer was your locker, but how had you not noticed it?

Shoving the homework material in your bag, you bent down to pick it up before closing your locker. Your eyes were glued to the writing on the folded paper, widening as all sense suddenly hit you.

Your name… the careful and precise calligraphy… The rose… It was her.

Maybe she hadn’t given the flower back to you. Or maybe she did, but her gesture meant something entirely different.

Your fingers were hesitant on the card’s edges, grazing and ghosting papercuts as you gathered enough strength and composure to open it.

You pulled out what you had rightly guessed as a letter, handwritten by the cutest of them all. Your eyes were eager at the thought of unveiling her thoughts, brushing past every single one of her words before finding the ones you wanted to see the most.

« I hope you actually like me, Y/n. You’ll regret it if you don’t. »

Okay, maybe this wasn’t the way you’d wanted them, but it was enough to pull a giggle out of you. It was a running joke, it was known across the school how no one should mess with her. Rumors of her song at the talent show being about an ex, those did a great job at spreading the word. Whether or not they were true, her songwriting was good enough of a threat for anyone who might have dared to.

Judging on the speed of your heart alone, she had nothing to worry about in that regard. Her written confession had you a mess, you couldn’t wait to meet her for more.

You wanted to hear her say all those things to you. How she liked your eyes whenever they were on her. How she liked your smile whenever you tried to see hers. How she liked your laugh whenever you tried to hear hers. How she fell for you and could only hope you’d catch her.

You were soon running through the streets, rose in hand as you ran past people, leaving bits and pieces of that love and hope behind for the nosiest of them.

You sprinted to the nearest park, the one you usually parted ways at on your way home from school. Why didn’t she wait for you today? It would have saved you the extra gym class.

“Dahyun!” You yelled, way too loud for the remaining distance separating you from her, but at least you caught her attention.

The way she turned around… You could have tripped at how beautiful it all was; the scenery that drew itself around her.

The grass looked beautiful, fresh and green at her feet as if her standing there only did the opposite of killing it. The sky, the clouds, the sun all indecisive over the weather, like her presence was enough to throw them off balance. Only the wind seemed to stand its ground, carrying those dark strands of hers as gently as it could. A present for you, offering you a chance to picture her perfect charm in your mind.

It was an instant, she turned to answer your call and faced you with eyes as sweet as ever while your lungs fought to keep themselves and yourself alive a little longer. Breathtaking had just taken a whole new meaning.

You could only hope it felt as cinematic on her end, but the way she laughed into the wind, carrying the sound all the way to your ears as you ran towards her significantly reduced that hope by at least 50%.

Oh, well. At least you made her smile.

“Is this yours?” You asked, holding up the rose as you slowed down, finally close enough to her.

You waited for her answer, breathless as you took great care in stopping before bumping into her. You made sure to leave enough space in between the two of you, but the air that filled it was suddenly heavy with anticipation.

“No.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. There went that pinch in your chest again. This wasn’t something you wanted to get used to. “What?”

“I think it’s yours.” She said, pulling out another one from her back. “This one’s mine.”

“Wh—Huh?” You grimaced, eyebrows furrowing together as you glanced back and forth between the two roses. “Then what’s this?”

“I guess someone has a crush on you.” She said, her voice soft. You barely heard it, but the slight loss of light in her eyes was enough to make you piece it together.

She wasn’t joking around. She really wasn’t the one who’d put that rose your locker.

“Oh.” A nervous chuckle escaped you as you glanced at the rose. You had an idea as to who it was from, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. You weren’t going to let this ugly miscommunication ruin your chances. “Well, here. Two for one.”

You handed her the rose in hopes of bringing back the glow that suited her features so well. It was never too long until you managed to do so, and this time was no exception.

“Are you seriously recycling someone’s love right now?” She chuckled and you shrugged. You actually were thinking of it as a proof of only having eyes for her, but alas…

“You’re never too green for the planet.” You joked out of habit. “It’s the least I can do to thank her for these beautiful flowers.”

“For the planet.” She nodded, grabbing the stem carefully as to not hit any of its thorns. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, and the heavy air turned awkward.

You eyed the space in between, making out every single unspoken word in the short yet frightening distance. Both of you were aware of them now, yet neither dared to cross it.

“Why didn’t you buy me one?” You asked, suddenly curious. If she had planned to confess today of all days, it only seemed logical for her to do so.

“I did. Just not the ones from school.” She said, bringing up the small gift bag she’d been holding on all this time.

Your face lit up and you stepped forward to look inside, something that made Dahyun’s heart pick up the pace. “Oh my gosh, you did!”

How lovely was your smile from up close. Overwhelmingly so. “I made you some chocolates too.” She mumbled as you struggled to keep still.

“No way!” You held onto the baby sized rose in your hand, digging inside the bag with the other to pull the small box at the bottom. “You didn’t…”

Dahyun only nodded, hiding herself behind the sudden need to tell you all about the day she’d spent planning her small confession.

You smiled all the way down to your heart, listening to every one of her words. She’d spent a whole afternoon in the kitchen to make sure everything came out perfect. Her evening was spent writing out her feelings for you, erasing and rewriting every word as she tried to find the right ones only to spend her night tossing and turning in her sheets, nervous and excited about sharing it all with you today.

“Dahyun they’re so good, thank you so much.” You hummed as you tasted one of her chocolates. “Did you have some?”

Dahyun only giggled, glancing down at the ground to avoid your playful ones. It never lasted too long though, only a second as she couldn’t fight the way her eyes were so easily drawn to you.

“Here have one.” You offered, holding what seemed to be a dark chocolate one to her lips. “Come on.” You insisted when you noticed she was hesitant, which only lead you to a playful fight as she resisted you trying to feed it to her. “Please enjoy it! You did all this for me, and I only got you a cheap flower, how does that make me look?”

“I don’t know.” She laughed as your hold on her loosened, defeated. “I mean…”

You cleared your throat at the sudden feeling of your arm around her waist.

“Right now you’re looking very pretty.”

Maybe it was the proximity that reassured her; that gave her enough confidence to confess those thoughts of you. How close you were to her, it felt as though you could only catch her if she jumped that distance.

So she did. She jumped, but failed to close it. Her lips were still and shy near your own, so you brought a hand up to her chin, guiding her towards the smile she’d caused.

Again, it was only an instant. A soft press of your lips, capturing each other’s in a gentle and warm feeling you discovered for the first time together.

It was funny, how she could taste the sweet chocolate on your lips despite herself. And not to pat her own back, but she did a great job.

It was addicting.

Or was it your lips? She couldn’t quite tell just yet, but surely she’ll have time to figure that out.

“So you knew?” You grinned, unable to hold back the happiness you felt.

Dahyun nodded, pressing her lips together as a sign of nerves still high. “Did you know too? About me?”

“Well, I definitely do now.” You chuckled, pulling away to hold her card up, still smiling at the words it contained. She blushed at the same thoughts. “You’re a very talented writer, Dahyun. You make me sound much better than I actually am.”

You joked yet again, suddenly remembering your beloved “class-clown” title. You weren’t exactly proud of it, but you did take pride in bringing joy into this class. That’s what made you so popular, what allowed you to break out of your own shell and make friends with about anyone.

“No. That’s just how good you are to me.”

You took care in making sure no one was ever left behind, especially the quiet and smart ones like Dahyun—often despite themselves—by pulling everyone and anyone into your banter.

As the new kid, Dahyun purposely sought a lack of attention. She kept to herself, but you caught her laughing along with everyone. Maybe that’s exactly what caught your attention at first, and you were surprised she didn’t push you away the first time you approached her.

That’s what usually happens when an academic ace and a class clown are paired together.

“Glad my efforts didn’t go unnoticed.”

“I mean, it was hard not to notice them…”

#dahyun x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice dahyun #kim dahyun #dahyun imagines

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riacte · 6 months

Text

Space Opera AU dashboard simulator

🥧 syrupstars Follow

Anyone else think that Red King racer is a little... y'know... fruity?

👑 falsewellsupremacy Follow

He literally says "ladies, gentlemen, everyone in between, get in line" so I think that answers your question.

🥧 syrupstars Follow

What about the "#Ally4Life 🏳️‍🌈" on his Twilight handle?

👑 falsewellsupremacy Follow

I genuinely have no idea. Maybe he thinks it's about him being an ally to cishet people

#idk ren's just like that sometimes #void knows what he's doing #also prev tags you do not want to get into the black hole of who ren has dated #he has rumours with 3/4 of the grid #edit: WHO MENTIONED BAD BOY TEENAGE REN IN MY NOTES #the shippers are here... oh no #edit 2: not ren at the club.

74 notes

🛑 bluebatshater Follow

oh my voiddd ofc That Duo got p1 again... i need them to dnf in the race. i hope they crash and burn and die and i need crastle to get podium for ONCE. i am so mad. i am calling for the goddess tsuki to curse them. dnf dnf crash burn DIE

🌻 lesbianlumian Follow

the goddess tsuki LITERALLY protects racers and that's why they pray to her? you think the goddess tsuki, creator of lumians, will curse an actual lumian? be so fucking fr

🛑 bluebatshater Follow

if you dont have anything productive to say get off my post. freak

#those blue bats stannies are SO ANNOYING THEY ARE EVERYWHERE #they're overshadowing all the other teams #cant even be a bitchy hater in peace #salt #negativity #hateposting

12 notes

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

OMG FALSE IS SO PRETTY SHES MY QUEEN OF HEARTS OMG OMGOMGOGM 💖💖💖💖💖💖 i tihnk im gonna pass out. HER HAIR FLYING IN THE WIND AND HER RED FRECKLES AND HER SMILE WHY IS MY HEART BEATING SO FAST and Ren is hot I guess he's tall like a ferris wheel

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

Looking at posts from five years ago is funny like how did I ever believe I was straight

🍦 jelliepopsicle Follow

OP, I think I recognise your url... did you write that viral Bad Boy Ren x QoH fic on Launchpad?

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

💀 Shut the fuck up right NOWWW!!

#STOP MENTIONING THAT FIC I WFOTE WHEN I WAS THIRTEEEN!!! #everything before my gay awakening is not canon. sorry #tbh... as much as a nightmare it was i kinda miss that stupid fic #it was from a simpler time #now im in university trying to contact my groupmates and i think one of them got lost in a blackhole last tuesday (again) #sigh. this keeps on happening to me #my cousin worked on one of the moons last summer for two weeks and came back like he'd aged six months #my friend's ex got sucked into a black hole and was briefly spaghettified but they managed to revive her and she gloats that she's finally taller than my friend's ex #whoops sorry for dumping in the notes #anyways. bad boy rk x good girl queen of hearts. awful idea. even more awful fic. yet i wrote it #i regret everything and nothing

25 notes

🗣️ peace-and-planets-deactivated63891092

PSA: Sunblr user @/summerheavens writes RPF of the Exterra 1 racers. She is a big name fan in the Miraculous Laserbug fandom so I thought you all would like to know. This is gross and disgusting behaviour and I implore you to stop.

🍬 summerheavens Follow

umm @/peace-and-planets i literally saw your kudos on my fic. the evidence is out there. girl what are YOU doing at the devil's sacrament. what are you doing on my roseduo rpf titled "hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine (we're not trying)".

but i'm glad you liked it enough to give it a kudos ^_^ will certainly be putting more on the starchive!

❄️ justwingit Follow

LMFAOOOO OP DEACTIVATEDDDDD 😭😭😭 sunblr user got killed by a rpf author. if you're gonna secretly read rpf maybe not leave a kudos?????

🚀 exterrablrheritage

Exterra 1 Heritage Post

⚡ littlewoodbabygirl69

It's been ten years since this post... @/summerheavens are you okay after recent developments

🍬 summerheavens Follow

am i okay? is ANYONE okay??? in these trying times??????? with the most chaotic gp to ever exist?????? i am PULLING OUT WIPS i dropped out of respect ten years ago. i've got to send my kid to daycare but once i'm done you bet you're seeing me on the starchive. miss swift even dropped her 20th album just in time for me to use lyrics as titles. i am LIVING and i am THRIVING

#ohhhhhhhhhh #let's go #also can't believe taylor finally addressed the vehicle manslaughter rumours from like twenty years ago #how fitting #also littlewood needs to get his shit together #why does he look like he's the one who hasn't seen his man in 32738102371 years and got his soul shattered #he's weak and won't survive the winter

27,408 notes

🧈 butteredbread Follow

WHAT is wrong with that lykos. i desire him carnally

🌳 treebark

@/handoftheking

🪓 handoftheking

I mean... yeah. Let's face it, we're all like that 🤷

⭐ nonbinarystar Follow

MR LITTLEWOOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

#WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM #I HATE HIM SO MUCH #PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIPS CAN ALSO BE ABOUT HATE #THIS GLOWSTICK MF IS MY WORST ENEMY #he just canonised treebark for the sixth time #also prev tags so real #need to slingshot him into a faraway galaxy

34,091 notes

🫃 spaceshipmpreg Follow

Who put that Just a Dream FalseRen AMV on my dash again

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

Respect your roots!! That 125M views Just a Dream AMV raised a generation. Every kid in my school played it on loop on their ipods during recess

🔮 queenofstarz03 Follow

wait op can you explain your url

🫃 spaceshipmpreg Follow

No 👍

#i think we should get the dogwarts freighter pregnant

6 notes

#long post #space opera au #queenofstarz03 my beloved space internet npc #idk..... i lost my mind making this #was fun tho #girl help im stuck at the devils sacrament. im building the devil's sacrament #treebark #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #just in case #dashboard simulator #unreality

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zozo-01 · 8 days

Text

"but it burns me up when i let you down."

Google Docs said I started this fic back in August of 2022 and now two years and an accent change later, I'm finally done!! David and Darlin' unfortunately hold a part of my brain that refuses to leave me, despite my adoration for their canon counterparts. So its only fair if I gave them the same treatment that I do for the others!! :D

Thanking the lovely @thesunandmoons-blog, @lostinanothersmemories and @friendlyfaded for probably forgetting this fic existed, but it's here!! And thanking my beloved @taelonsamada and @nortyourself for reviving it again. Finally, a huge shoutout to @androgynouspenguinexpert for being the amazing beta they are and @floofdeloop for making the playlist where I got the title from!!

CW: No Angel or Sam AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Kidnapping, Torture, Blood, Broken Bones, Vomit, Character Death, it's off screen, Allusions to a Toxic Relationship and Sexual Assault, not explicitly mentioned but very much implied, Non-Consensual Trancing, vampires obvi, Quinn is a Bad Man, Canon Divergent, an alternative take on how the quinn storyline could have gone, Divine Intervention, it's me im the intervention, Love Confessions, in the most convoluted way possible, David is Bad at Feelings, And so is Darlin', Quinn is not British, apologies my bad for that, i started writing this two years ago and how so much has changed, shoutout to the Leafs once again except they're doing alright, for now

click here for the ao3 link!!

“Here.”

“Why the fuck are you giving me a necklace?”

“Thought it was pretty and you’d like it. So take it.”

“Alright, no need to be pushy baby Alpha.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me ‘baby Alpha?”

“And I won’t stop… I- um… thank you for the necklace… David.”

“...Of course Darlin'.”

David was chained up to the wall of what he thought was a basement. There was blood seeping into the hardwood floors, some of it was his and some of it was dried up from long ago. The style of the room was similar to a bar that Darlin' frequented during their lone wolf days. How he knew that wasn't important. Was the dried blood theirs? He shook that thought from his head. He had more important things to focus on. But they're important too.

It looked like he was trapped in a bar storage room, judging by the varying bottles of alcohol along the shelves. He couldn’t tell. His eyes were too damn blurry to see his hands when he held them close to his face.

He tried to lift his head from the floor, but it was throbbing with pain. The pounding registered as its own sound, but that couldn't stop him. He needed to lift his head, move his body, so he could see what the hell was going on.

His first thought was to shift through the chains, hoping that they would break with his larger wolf form. But one look at the handcuffs made him realize why that was a terrible idea. They were magic dampening cuffs, the kind the Department would use to contain 'dangerous shifters'. If he decided to try and shift through these cuffs, his wrists and ankles would have shattered. With no healer nearby, this would have been a death sentence.

David pressed his palms on the floor, attempting to get up. This time, he was able to lift himself onto his knees, ignoring the aches that seemed to be everywhere. After a deep breath, he straightened his back, leaning onto the wall behind him. As he shifted to sit in a more comfortable position, his eyes began to clear up. He was able to see properly again. He saw what—who was in front of him and sat there, body trembling at the sight of the man in front of him.

“So tell me, Alpha, how long do you think it will take for my little wolf to show up?”

He may not remember how he got here. What he did know is that the vampire Darlin' has been hunting for the last two years was in front of him.

Quinn sat on a chair, legs crossed and hands placed in his lap. He cocked his eyebrow. “Well, I’m waiting for my answer,” he said impatiently. Quinn wanted an answer now.

David took a deep breath. “They won’t be coming for me,” he said, lying through his teeth. Darlin' was the type to lay down their life for a stranger. They always cared more for others than they did themselves. If they had heard anyone was alone with Quinn, they’d haul ass to save them. Only God knows how fast Darlin' would be running if they knew it was David in Quinn’s clutches. Part of him was desperately hoping that they wouldn’t come. That they would have faith in him to save himself.

His more selfish side wanted them to be there. To see for himself that they were okay. To end Quinn’s life in front of them. To end their living nightmare.

It was his duty as their Alpha and it was his duty to his heart.

Quinn found David’s lie so amusing that he let out a laugh of disbelief, wiping the tears falling from his eyes. “Now that— that was a good joke Shaw,” he choked through his laughter. Letting out his final chuckles and calming himself, he got up from his chair and stalked towards the wolf. David tried to get up, but the chains locked onto his wrist were too short to let him stand. The most he could do was kneel before the vampire.

Quinn stood in front of David, eying the defiant Alpha. He crouched down to meet the wolf’s eyes. He glanced down to David’s bloody, snarling mouth.

“I forget how sharp shifter teeth are.” Before David could move away from the vampire, Quinn grabbed his chin and opened his mouth, admiring the shifter’s canines. “Reminds me how much they loved my teeth.”

David’s eyes went wide. ‘Makes me remember how much they loved my teeth?’ What the hell did he mean by that? He didn’t know what Quinn was saying and he hated not knowing. But he had an idea.

A deep snarl came from the wolf within him. The images of his— no, not his. As much as he wishes they were, Darlin' was not his to claim. The image of the wolf he knew laying on a bed - fuck, they’d look gorgeous on their back - with Quinn on top of them was enough to make his skin crawl. Picturing the vampire sinking his teeth into Darlin'’s neck makes him want to throw up.

“Oh? You don’t like that?” Quinn smirked, showing off his fangs. Fangs that had the luxury of marking their skin. “You don’t like the idea that they used to beg for my teeth? That my fangs had the pleasure of tasting them?”

David had to remove himself from this situation, at least mentally. He couldn't just sit there and let Quinn talk about Darlin' in such a demeaning manner. For a moment, David could forget about his predicament and just think about Darlin'. Their beautiful body and somehow more gorgeous heart. No one could have captured his heart the way they did, he'd keep

A sharp pain bloomed across David’s face, knocking him out of his thoughts, and his mouth filled with the iron taste of blood. It took him a second to realize that Quinn had punched him square in the jaw.

He looked up at the vampire, who was wiping the Alpha’s blood from his knuckles.

“Apologies for the drastic measures, but I can’t have you think of them like that.” Quinn paced around the room and his hands were clasped together as he spoke. “Believe me, I know they are incredibly attractive, but that doesn’t give you permission to think of my wolf like that.”

David took a deep breath. The chained up Alpha was in no position to make threats against the Old Blood in front of him, but he needed to say something to relieve the pent-up anger. He was going to explode from the rage at the thought of Darlin' ‘belonging’ to a man like Quinn.

In all honesty, David was fuming at the thought of Darlin' not being his.

“They’re not yours.”

“Oh really?” Quinn said in a low growl, daring David to finish his thought.

“They don’t belong to anyone.” David wolf howled right under the skin, and had it not been for the magic dampening cuffs, he would have made sure his body would be unrecognizable.

He cackled like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. “Is that sentiment supposed to make you feel better about the fact that my mark is on them?”

David’s jaw clenched as a smirk arose on Quinn’s face. “Am I wrong in saying that? My teeth were in their skin. My mark is on their body.” He let out a manic laugh, pacing around the room in a frantic glee, the total opposite of the calm villain role he was playing earlier. Darlin' probably just had that effect on him, unfortunately.

He knelt down, cupping David’s jaw in his hand. "Whether you like it or not, they’re mine. And I never let go of what rightfully belongs to me,” he sneered.

David snarled, trying to bite off the vampire's hand. The thought of him laying his filthy hands on Darlin' was enough to make him hurl, so why not do something to prevent that from happening, or at least try to? “You fucking touch a single goddamn strand of hair on their head, and I swear to God I will rip you to shreds.”

Quinn clicked his tongue, dropping David’s limp head, and continued to slowly pace around in the glorified dungeon. “It’ll be easier if you just—” he paused, placing his foot on David's back and crushing him under his heel, grinning at the grunt of pain the Alpha let out. “Give them to me. You could never love them the way I do, it's clear with the way you call them trouble."

David knew it. It was something he told himself every single night for years. He wasn’t good enough when it came to welcoming them to the pack. He wasn’t good enough to keep them away from trouble, and they had the scars on their body was proof of his failure. He wasn’t good enough to keep their heart from breaking, watching and doing nothing as they fell in love with the monster in front of him.

He wasn’t good enough back then and not much has changed since.

But he was better than the sorry excuse of a person sneering at him.

David gathered the spit and blood and bile in his mouth. He refused to lay down and let Quinn say another word about Darlin’.

But as Quinn's ears perked up, David's heart sank. There were footsteps coming down the steps, rushed and desperate to reach the basement of the bar. One sniff of the air confirmed who it was sprinting towards him, the last person he wished it was. And the person he was desperately hoping for.

Darlin' had found him. They were racing straight for the belly of the beast.

"They always hated to be late," he mused, soft and sweet like he had the right to think of them like that. Quinn turned back around to David, a crazed and wicked smile on his face. "Shall we give them a warm welcome, Alpha?"

David didn't want Darlin' to see him like this; his stomach curled at the thought. As Alpha, he tried to maintain that aura of invincibility that was expected of him. Any comment that compared himself to his late father made him beam with pride, all efforts made to replicate his presence rather than replace his father with his own leadership. But it had taken some time to find his stride with his new title, and Darlin' was instrumental to that. It was them who continued to stand by his side, even when his displaced anger should have scared them off. Yet Darlin' knew what pain hid under his anger, and he's incredibly thankful for them being patient with him.

From then on, he made an extra effort to control and compose himself around them. Apologies through acts of love weren't uncommon, and for a man who's as bad with his words as he was, actions spoke volumes. It wasn't fair that Darlin' had to constantly deal with his outbursts without any respite, so he opted to give them an extended break.

Covered with blood from various sources and broken beyond repair, David was far from the usual picture of poise. He pulled against his shackles in a vain attempt to be free, if not to save himself than at least to provide them enough time to run away. The chances of both of them escaping were improbable, but he can make sure that at least one of them will be free.

"What the fuck did you do, Quinn!?" they screamed with desperation, their voice entering the room before they did. He couldn't help but smile, at least he would see them one last time before he died.

Quinn's arm wrapped around David's neck like he was giving him a noogie, squeezing it and causing another choking fit. "Oh you know, precious, just two buddies hanging out, ain't that right, Davey?" His smile darkened, or maybe it was the blood around his mouth. If you take away all the gore and move this scene to a picnic field, this could have been cute. David chuckled in his head, morbid thoughts like those were exactly what he needed to keep sane.

With no fear for their safety, Darlin made a move to step forward, only to stop when Quinn clutched his neck, nails breaking skin and dragging down his back. "If you take a step forward, I will hurt him."

Hesitation flashed in Darlin' eyes, and he hoped that it would be enough for them to turn their back and run. (It wasn't, and it never will be.)

Stomping towards the two and their claws peeking, David could feel their core become a ferocious snowstorm, cold and vicious, making sure that there would be no survivors. "I swear to God, if you don't let him go, I will—"

Familiar pain burst across David's neck, teeth and claws becoming too familiar to differentiate at this point. He wanted to throw up at the lewd moans that Quinn let out, disgusted that this man- monster was finding pleasure in his pain. He shivered at Darlin' being in his spot, the one who Quinn's fangs dug into. Quinn had passionately spoken about their blood, to an obsessive and slightly creepy extent.

Biting David had the effect that Quinn wanted on Darlin', with Darlin' stopping dead in their tracks. Their fearful eyes locked with his, retaliations dying in their throat. Despite being frozen in place, David could see them go backwards, going back to the person they were when they were with Quinn. All the healing they had achieved was undone at sight of the monster in front of them.

He tried to speak, willing to beg in front of them to leave, but any attempts to speak were crushed like his windpipes. Quinn's doing, of course.

"Quinn, please…" Darlin's voice quivered as the anger within them died down, while David's rage continued to fester. How dare Quinn bring fear to their voice after going on about how much he cared for them. If Quinn really loved them as much as he claimed to, then he wouldn't be doing all of this. But it wasn't love that he felt for Darlin', it was the desire to control them.

"There's my precious little wolf," Quinn cooed, letting David's limp body slump onto the ground. He was glad that Quinn finally let him go, but David was too concerned with the way Quinn was stalking towards his wolf. He tried, Lord knows he tried, to crawl towards Darlin' and save them, but with all the injuries, he was lucky to move a finger.

To their credit, Darlin' didn't take a step back as Quinn got closer. Davidd knew it was because they refused to let him scare them. Defiant in the face of death, dying as a martyr with conviction of steel was an honourable way to die.

Their cold expression faltered a little bit when Quinn started to play with their hair. Growls died in David's throat, the only noise he was letting out was blood choking him to stay quiet. His inner wolf was begging to let himself out, but try as he might, he couldn't tackle Quinn where he stood. David didn't know if this hurt him more as their Alpha or as the man that loved them.

"What do you want, Quinn?" they asked, careful to not look him in the eyes, presumably to stop them from being tranced tonight. Darlin' took a moment to compose themselves, giving their signature killer look that would turn Quinn to ash. But they weren't Superman, and this wasn't a fairy tale.

(It could be if you wanted it, no? You have the power to turn this around and make sure everyone leaves tonight alive. They would be broken and bruised and would never forget this night, but they'll be able to remember. So please, help us, save them.)

(Darlin's hand slipped into their back pocket unbeknownst to the two men. They were lucky that their silencer was on.)

"Oh precious, that's no way to greet your man," he purred, eyes trailing their body in a way that made Darlin's skin crawl. He held the side of their face, nails digging into their cheek and making them look into his eyes. They ignored the pain, keeping their eyes shut to stop any trancing. Drawing blood from their face, Quinn growled, "open your damn eyes, mutt."

"Oh please, you never needed to trance me to force me to do whatever the fuck you want," they said with a cold fury. David's mind conjured up the worst of what they meant by that. He threw up at the thought of it, more blood leaving his body.

Sick bastard that he was, Quinn laughed. "It really is so much fun to make you, I love seeing your fighting spirit." His smile dropped, voice going cold, making another switch from his frantic personal to someone more composed. "But I need you to open your eyes, pretty thing. You wouldn't want me to bite your Alpha—"

Quinn didn't need to finish his sentence before Darlin' shot their eyes open, pleading with him to not hurt David even more. He didn't know why they were so set to defend him, he could take care of himself. What the fuck was the point of being Alpha if he couldn't protect the people he cared about?

"Quinn please…" David wanted to cry at how quiet Darlin's voice became, an effort to not set off the vampire in front of them. It was too rehearsed, a tone they practiced many times in the reflections of shattered mirrors. "Why are you doing all of this? I don't understand why you can't just leave me alone."

"Well it's quite obvious, precious," he started, his hands trailing from their face to their waist. "I want you back, sweetie. I've missed you, your love, your care, your intoxicating aroma," he sniffed the air around them, moaning at their scent. "It's nice to know that after all this time spent with these wolves, you still are my ferocious little thing."

"They're not yours!" David yelled out as best as he could, even though his voice was still muffled by the blood in his throat. It wasn't a lot, but it was better than sitting on his broken bones and doing nothing.

Quinn glared at the Alpha behind him, finally acknowledging his presence. Finally, David was getting bored back here. "Which brings me to this mutt," he said with so much disdain, it filled David up with pride that he was able to make Quinn hate him as much as David loathed him.

Darlin's eyes went wide and their mouth moved before they could think. "He didn't do anything wrong—"

"Oh yes he did precious, don't you dare try to protect him," he sneered at them.

Finally letting go of Darlin', Quinn stalked around the room, eyeing the two wolves with accusations ready at his lips. "You never really loved me, not the way I loved you." He stopped a few paces behind them, staring David in his eyes. Good, as long as that fucker looked at him and not Darlin', then it would be a good thing in his book.

“So that got me thinking, why could you never commit fully to me? Why wouldn’t you compromise your ‘moral compass’ for me? Why didn’t you love me the same way that I love you? It hit me." Frantic voice and manic eyes had David wondering how on Earth Darlin' was able to love a monster like him. They were the only person he knew that would treat this vile creature with love and respect that he didn't deserve.

"But I did love you," they said with hurt and guilt in their voice.

"But you didn't!" he finally yelled out. "You couldn’t because of how you felt for him.” Quinn pointed at David.

…Darlin' loved him? Darlin' loved him.

This was a dream come true in the most nightmarish way possible.

He had no time to ponder on this new revelation, already light-headed with the way his heartbeat pounded. A selfish part of him was happy that his feelings were reciprocated, that they long for him the way he did for them. But like this? Against their own will and him bolted to the wall, there was no way this was their ideal way to confess. Knowing them, they'd probably have a meticulous plan to make sure that everything went perfectly. They'll never have the chance to confess the way they wanted to. Neither would he.

His rationale came back to him after the initial high. He may have not known Quinn the same way Darlin' did, but from what he'd heard and seen from him tonight, he was a delusional and jealous asshole. Never trusting anyone to have pure intentions. He couldn't fathom that he was the issue, so he might have created this reality to remove himself from any accountability from what he did to Darlin'. Yeah, that must have been it. It broke his heart, but he'd rather a lie than Darlin' having their feelings ripped out of them to be on display.

(David remembered how casually their parents would talk about their biggest failures, as if it was gossip to them. How Darlin' would laugh along with their parents' friends, in a vain attempt to stop themselves from crying. Dance little wolf, dance for us, they would yell out, finding joy in every fumble and misstep. Yet they never stopped, always getting back up and entertaining the crowd. Ripping their heart on a silver platter to feed the wolves around them, but it was never enough. So they would break and build themselves to entertain and if they could get a good laugh, then their job would be complete.)

Again Darlin's shining eyes stood in stark contrast with their stern face. "Congratulations, you spilled my darkest secret," they said coldly. Their darkest secret? David could see their magic coursing through their veins, ready to shift at a moment's notice.

"The fuck are you going to do now?" they asked while cracking the bones in their hands, a sign that they were itching to fight but desperately needed to calm down.

"No need to bring out the claws, pretty thing. Unless you're going to dig them into me," he cackled, but the sick desire to be mauled by them was painted in bright colours on his face. Quinn took a couple steps towards them, standing between himself and Darlin'. "I just want one thing from you, precious," he started with a composed tone. "Come back with me, and I let your pathetic Alpha leave tonight alive."

The only thing that was stopping David tearing Quinn apart limb from limb were the stupid fucking magic dampening cuffs that were still on his wrist. So instead he pleaded to anyone above who was listening to force Darlin' to turn away and run. He might not have been able to save them back then, but he could at least stop them from reliving the same tragedy.

David could feel Quinn's fingers dig into his hair, pulling him up to look into his rotten eyes. "Don't speak while they make their decision, mutt," he ordered and with a flash of red, he felt the trance take over his body. Throat constricted and choking on a silent scream, he couldn't do anything while Darlin' was mulling over their options.

There was no point in trying to guess what choice they would make, it being as obvious as they were beautiful. David tried to memorize every inch of them before they were gone forever.

Darlin' had always been too selfless for their own good, always putting others over themselves. It was what made David so obsessed with them, finding beauty and good in even the most despicable people. They had a gentle heart, one that was beaten and hardened with life but at the very core still remained one of the best people he's known. If given the option to save themselves or another person, they would choose the other no matter the circumstances.

They looked up with determined eyes and a final answer. David tried to scream and yell to get them to stop, but both their resolve and the trance were too strong for him to overcome.

Walking up to Quinn, Darlin' put their hand in his. A sheep walking straight into the jaws of a wolf.

"I'll go with you, only if you promise to leave the pack alone," they demanded, making sure their sacrifice would not go in vain. Not that it would stop him, but empty promises were always better than none.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll make sure that your silly little pack will be ok," he sighed with great effort and rolled his eyes. David couldn't help but be disgusted, not understanding how anyone could act like they needed to inflict pain to survive. "Besides, why need anyone else when I have you for the rest of our eternity?" he asked in glee, knowing his answer already.

(There were wolf howls in the distance, not far, but not close enough to make it there in time. They needed to find a way to stall him a little longer.)

Before Quinn could drag Darlin' off to their doom, they resisted, pulling back their arm to make one last request. "I want to say goodbye to him," they requested while looking at David. If they were scared, then they were doing a good job of hiding it. Something told him that he was the more terrified one between the two.

Quinn tried to argue against it, saying that if they stayed a second longer then he would go back on his promise. But with enough pleading and ass-kissing, he relented. "You can have your last goodbye. Make it count though because you'll never see them again," he sneered, spitting in Darlin's face in a show of dominance.

They didn't respond, not wanting to test him even further. Not when David was here and in immediate danger.

They shuffled over to David, kneeling to be on eye level with him. Holding his broken and bruised face in their hands, he could see the amount of unsaid words running through their head. David tried to speak again, cursing the trance for forcing his silence. He wanted to reassure them that no matter what, he would always love them. That he was sorry for not telling them sooner. Maybe if he had they wouldn't have to turn to Quinn in the first place.

But most importantly, he wanted to tell them that he would hunt Quinn down, that through hell and high water that he was going to bring them back home. This wasn't a promise, this was a declaration that David would follow through with.

Finally finding the words to condense the years of love that they buried within themselves, Darlin' opened their mouth to speak. “I love you David," they whispered, tears already dropping onto their cheeks. "And I’m so sorry it has to end this tragically before it can even begin, but I would do the same thing. A hundred times over. In every damn universe where I have the honour and privilege of being able to love you.”

Darlin' did love him. And he repaid that love with nothing but pain.

Quinn clearly had enough with not being the center of attention, deciding to take matters into his own hands to take Darlin' away. "Let's go, precious," he growled while dragging them up to his feet and pulling them away from David. "And before we go," he said, grinning while grabbing the necklace around their neck and ripping it off into a broken chain. "We don't need any extra baggage with us, right?" he snarked, glaring right at David. Quinn knew exactly where the necklace came from.

It was the necklace David gave Darlin' the night he realized how he felt for them.

As he tried to scream after them, his vision began to blur. Fuck, he couldn't have been passing out now! Not when they were still too close for him to save. But he lost too much blood, it being a miracle that he was still able to move, even if it was to hold his head still to look back at him. The further Quinn walked away from them, the looser the trance became. It didn't matter though, his voice was raw from earlier, and his body couldn't move with how beaten he was.

Darlin' managed one last look behind them, with one last apologetic look. He couldn't do much, but he could at least let them know the answer to their forced confession.

'I love you', he mouthed over to them. Tears were already welling in his eyes, knowing he would never get the chance to say to them properly, with confidence and love.

But it seemed like that was all they needed. Vision fading, his last image of them was a content smile and the thought that they were loved was all they had asked for. Darlin' deserved so much more.

His eyes closed, hoping that maybe this would be the end of this nightmare. Maybe when he wakes up, Darlin' would be beside him, or even in his arms. Wouldn't that be lovely.

(The other wolves were close enough to help, leaving nothing but carnage and an unrecognizable corpse in their wake.)

–

"Oh God, is he gonna wake up?"

"It's gonna take time for him to wake up. Quinn left did a shit ton of damage, so the healing magic's need to take his time to work properly."

"Thank you, Marie. I don't know what we would have done without you."

"No problem, Asher. How bout you and Milo go grab us some food to eat? It's been a hell of a week for all of us."

"No problem ma."

"Hey kid, you alright?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah I'm good. It's just… weird seeing David so… vulnerable."

"But he's alive and that's all thanks to you, Darlin'."

"He wouldn't have been hurt if it wasn't for me!"

"We both know this ain't your fault, that was Quinn's. So don't be out here blamin' yourself for shit you didn't do."

"…Ok, I won't shit on myself."

–

David never was a deep sleeper, always waking up at the slightest sound in the area. So why didn't he wake up to the sound of another person's breathing in the room?

He opened his eyes, immediately wanting to go back to sleep. Exhaustion was so embedded in his bones and his throat was as dry as sandpaper. Looking to his bedside table on the left, he saw a water bottle and silently cheered. He uncapped it and chugged it down, getting some feeling back into his mouth.

He was so focused on his thirst that he didn't realize Darlin' was sleeping in a chair to the right of him.

His breath hitched. How on Earth were they still so pretty while they slept? So serene and peaceful, David would do anything to keep them in this state. The detail that stood out most to him were the tear tracks on their face. Who the fuck made them cry? Where were they so that he could give them a piece of his mind and a bite with his teeth.

His head throbbed in pain with memories from what he felt was last night. Quinn torturing him to lure in Darlin'. How fucking creepy he was when they showed up. The way he was about to drag Darlin' away from him and the pack permanently. The confession that seared itself into his brain.

Oh my God. They confessed their feelings to each other.

In his pondering about the confession, he didn't realize that Darlin' had woken up. It was only when they jumped into his arms to give him the biggest hug they could have given anyone.

"Thank God you're alive," they said softly, voice muffled with their face in his chest. Frozen and unsure of what to do next, he followed his instincts and wrapped his arms around them. One arm snaked his way to their back and he put the other on their head, giving them a little massage. (Their gentle hands were nothing like Quinn's harsh ones.)

Reluctantly, they both let each other go, letting their hands linger on the other's body. Silence filled the room as the two wolves stared at each other, his green eyes meeting their tear filled ones. David brought his hand up slowly, giving Darlin enough time to move away if they needed to. But they didn't. He wiped the tears falling down on their face, watching as that simple action was enough for them to break.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," they sobbed and apologized profusely, pretty eyes not looking at him anymore. He was scared that they were going to pull away from his hand, but instead they went back to burying their face in his chest.

David was confused. He didn't know why they were apologizing. If anything, he should have been the one saying sorry. Had he been not stupid enough to get kidnapped by Quinn, then they wouldn't have felt the need to play the martyr. Not that either of them were to blame, the reason was hopefully left to burn in the sun.

"Shhh, this wasn't your fault," he said to comfort them, rubbing a hand up and down their back. They pulled their head back and he could imagine all the arguments that they were willing to bring up as a rebuttal. He wasn't going to let them get the chance to atone for the sins of a dead man, especially one as cruel as him.

Before they could open their mouth, David held them by the shoulders. "Hey, nothing was your fault," he said sternly. He needed to be clear with them, lest they carry this unwarranted guilt with them for the rest of their life. "You don't need to apologize for what that asshole did to the both of us. Look at me when I tell you this," he emphasized while tilting their head up. "Everything, all of this, that was Quinn's shit, not yours. Don't let the leech tell you otherwise."

A shaky sigh and nod indicated that they heard him loud and clear. But he knew that Darlin' hearing his words and understanding them were two different things. It was ok though, he was going to stand by their side and help them through this.

Another period of silence settled in the room, this time with stiff and uncomfortable air. David didn't know how he was going to address the fucking confession. There was no denying their feelings for each other, no way to downplay their words to just a heightened adrenaline rush. So close to their hearts coming together, only to let circumstances from putting their hearts on their sleeves.

He was tired of letting circumstances dictate when or how he got what he wanted.

"I have tickets to the Dires game if you want to come with me." He absolutely didn't have tickets for the game, given how hard they were to come by. But he was sure that he could use his connections to get some. Anything for Darlin'.

Confusion grew on their face. "…You don't like hockey," they said with a questioning tone, and they weren't wrong. He was never a fan of any sports, not finding the intense stress he's seen his friends go through worth the struggle. But he could learn to like hockey for them. He could learn to like anything for them.

He shrugged to hide the fact that his heart was beating erratically. Acting in the most nonchalant way was his only answer to not making a fool of himself.

Ever observant as they were, Darlin' asked him, "is this your way of asking me out on a date?" They nailed the coffin that buried David's confidence.

"Well yeah, only if you want to of course." He stopped himself from rambling, it would have been unbecoming of him as an Alpha. But David couldn't help but let his nerves and anxious thoughts run rampant until they gave him an answer. The butterflies in his stomach were at their beck and call, and there wasn't any other way he would want it.

"Well, I guess I can't say no to free tickets," they giggled. It was a heavenly sound, worth all the pain and strife he'd had to go through in his life. If he had a purpose in this world, it was to keep them smiling, and he was going to take that job seriously.

He told them the details about the date, when to get ready and when he was going to pick him up. While he was talking, he was trying to find a way to get tickets, going through all of the contacts that he knew. If all else fails, maybe he can beg Milo for his tickets. Dreams can come true and David was going to get those tickets somehow.

Mustering up the confidence, he leaned in closer to their face. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, making sure he had their full consent before kissing them. (He couldn't help but remember what they said about Quinn forcing them to love him.)

"Mm, I don't know," they teased with that perfect smirk of theirs. "I only kiss after the first date, Davey." Their sultry tone did nothing to hamper the desire to bite their lips.

Instead of rejection, he laughed at their joke. "You're such an asshole," he said, in awe of the beautiful wolf in front of him.

"Yeah, but you love me."

He did. He loved them the way water rises to kiss the moon.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fanfic #redacted david #redacted darlin #redacted quinn #david/darlin #i promise ill write for sam/darlin and angel/david to make up for this #but the parasites arent leaving me alone #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

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a1307s · 5 months

Text

Take Me From You #3

(Jason Todd)

[Art is not mine! Credit to Naijarski]

Requested by: ynight14 and RavenMoore7799

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 2,814

Warnings and/or Pre-notes:

Gets a little heated at the end

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I can hear the blood beating against the veins in my ears, drowning out the sound of Y/N and Bruce yelling at each other. The scene is almost funny. A hysterical Batman screams at Y/N to not kill as Y/N yells at him for being a murderer. A poor drug dealer sitting between the two screaming adults, confusion and fear on his face. I can feel the laughter brewing in my throat from the scene in front of me.

Even with the mask covering a good chunk of her face, Y/N is as beautiful as she was the last time I saw her. Though she's more filled out than she was when we were fifteen, that only makes her prettier and is expected. She's not going to look the same as she did four years ago. Honestly, she could be in a flour bag, and I would still think she's the most perfect person in the room.

Despite the funny scene in front of me, my heart races. I haven't seen her in years. I didn't even know if she was still in Gotham, let alone still in contact with Bruce. Given, it doesn't seem like good or willing contact, but it's still contact.

Y/N's hair bounces around as she yells, making my fingers ache with the want to run them through it. The want to touch her, hold her, and hear her voice is overwhelming. Well, hear her talk to me in a normal tone at least, but I'm happy to hear her in any way, even if she is yelling. At Bruce, of all people.

"I'm done. I'm done with you, you're helpless!" Bruce yells, throwing his hands up as he parades himself in a little circle. Y/N must have been a big hell-raiser over the years to get a response like that. The bat grabs the drug dealer, dragging him away as he mumbles to himself.

I watch as Y/N turns on her heels, tilting her head back and forth as she uses her hand as a puppet, mimicking Bruce's meltdown as she walks away. It's good to see that she still has her humor. Good to see that Bruce hasn't managed to get her killed yet either.

I follow after her, staying hidden as she walks away. I should talk to her, tell her I'm back. Maybe she knows though. I mean Bruce and Dick know so I would assume Y/N and Alfred know too. Though, if Bruce and her are fighting like this all the time I wouldn't be surprised if Bruce 'forgot' to mention my revival. It's a petty move that would be right up his way.

Y/N turns down an alley, so I wait a second, just in case. The sound of metal scratching concert fills the night. It's quickly replaced by soft clicks of boots against metal. I poke my head around the corner, watching as she climbs up the fire escape. I slide forward, grabbing a hold of the latter before it slides back into place.

I don't know why I feel the need to stay hidden as I watch her slide open a window and crawl in. Well, I kind of know. I don't know if it's best for me to just pop back into her life. Maybe she has a boyfriend or a husband. Maybe she has a whole family. If she has settled in life, what gives me the right to tear that up?

I know it's selfish of me to hope her life ended when I died. What kind of shitty person hopes that? Me. I hope for that. Given, I also hope she's had a fulfilling life since my passing, I just hope it wasn't with another man.

As I climb up the fire exit, ideas of how to kill Y/N's imaginary boyfriend circle my head. Maybe Bruce is right, maybe I am crazy. I try my best to be silent as I follow Y/N's path. Once I'm on her floor level, I push myself against the brick wall, not wanting to startle her. Well, I'm doing it mostly to catch a breather and prepare for the worst.

It takes a second, but once my courage is built up, I move, looking into her window, only to be met with a gun barrel in my face. "What the fuck Y/N?!" I yell, raising my hands in a sign of surrender. It would be pretty shitty to come back to life just for my girlfriend - ex-girlfriend? - to blow my head off.

My eyes scan over her maskless face, taking in her bright eyes, her cheekbones, and her lips. God her lips. It might just be the horn-dog in me, but I've missed her kissing me the most. Well... I can think of other parts of her I missed more. Off-topic, very off-topic thoughts. My... Y/N is holding a gun to my face and my identity is still very much hidden in my helmet. I need to stay on topic.

"Who the fuck are you?" She yells, her finger featherily light on the trigger. Her body shifts some, causing a small clinking sound.

My eyes drop down to her neck, the direction the sound came from. Wrapped around her neck and resting on her chest is a black chain with two rings strung on it. One is a basic black ring, with a red band through it. Even from here, I can make out the words on it. Curved on the inner side of the band are the words 'Come home to me' with Y/N's name next to it.

The other band is a copy of the first but with a small ruby held in the middle. 'Be safe for me' is curved into this one, my name next to the wording. It's the first thing I ever bought Y/N. I bought it when we were thirteen, the cheesy words curved into them being enough to back that up. It took three weeks of pickpocketing to afford, but it was worth every penny.

"Who. The fuck. Are you?" Y/N repeats, empathizing her words more.

"Um... Jason... Todd..."

Y/N's face shifts to confusion and then anger. "Last time I checked, Jason Todd is buried in a box in the Gotham Graveyard. So, try again asshole."

"Bruce buried me in the fucking public graveyard? Didn't even cross his mind to bury me in the Wayne Graveyard? What the fuck?" I say before I can stop myself.

"What is going on?" Y/N murmurs, shaking her head some as her eyes widen. "Go... go away murderer," she says, pointing the gun down before slamming the window shut.

Murderer? Like she wasn't just fighting with Bruce over her wanting to murder someone. I stand still, hands still in the air as I watch Y/N march around her apartment, panic-cleaning as she talks to herself. Her head keeps shifting around like she's trying to erase what just happened. Hopefully, this isn't how she would react if a different murderer appeared outside her window.

Once my head is on straight again, I push the window open, the wood of it yelling in discomfort as it moves. Y/N keeps pacing around, muttering to herself about crazy people and leaving Gotham. I carefully crawl in, making sure not to knock into anything.

I let myself rest against the windowsill, watching her pace around the small apartment. How has she lived this long if this is her response to a stalker? Maybe I caused her a mental breakdown.

A small smile rests on my face as I tug off my helmet and set it on the side table placed next to the window. It's littered with loose change and bullets. Good to see she still has a careless air to her. I always found it cute when we were younger. It made me feel needed, knowing she wouldn't pay attention to the small details even if it would make her life easier. I liked doing those things for her, I like her needing me to do those small things, even if it's not things that need to be done.

I snap my mask off as well, placing it next to my helmet. Y/N continues to mutter and pace, occasionally throwing a phrase or two at me as she works her thoughts out. I look around her space. There's not much of it, which I'm not surprised about. It is an apartment in Gotham after all. Her living space is filled with bookcases, all of them filled to the seams with books and movies. There's a big, overstuffed couch across from a pricey television, probably an apology gift from Bruce. He's good at replacing emotions with money, which is easy to do when you have enough for ten lifetimes.

Y/N's kitchen is littered with recipe books, loose papers, random dishes, and spices all over the counters. Her fridge is littered with pictures and more papers. Her bathroom and bedroom doors are swung open, unsurprisingly. She sucks at closing doors.

Just like Y/N's kitchen, her bathroom counters are littered with makeup. Her bedspread is a mess, but besides that, her room is pretty straight and tidy. Even the nightstand by her bed is item less besides a lone alarm clock. That's not usual for her, maybe Y/N does have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who doesn't mind taking care of the small details for her, just like I used to do.

From here, I can see the edge of a small table, a deep green cloth drooping off of it, that's tucked into a corner of her room. I let my curiosity get the better of me and push myself off the windowsill, making sure to close it behind me or else it'll be left open for the next two to three weeks.

I walk into the room, expecting a hidden mess, but there's none to be found. I let my gaze settle on the mystery table that's not so much a mystery anymore.

In the middle of the table is a picture of me. Well, a picture of us. It's from our first date night at the manor. I'm stretched out on the couch, my head in Y/N's lap and her hands tangled in my hair as we both smile at the camera.

On either side of the picture is a candle; A white one for peace and a pink one for love. Each is held in a gold candle holder. In front of the picture is a few things. One is a bowl of Skittles, my favorite candy. To the left is a small, blue, empty bowl, and to the right is a full, red bowl.

In the full bowl is the jewelry I use to wear; my dog tags Bruce gave me, the pocket watch I got from Alfred, the matching Robin bracelet from Dick, and my family cross I got from my mother.

"So... you are alive," Y/N says, pulling my attention from the altar to her, standing in the doorway. She keeps shifting her weight and her fingers tap against the wood. It would only be more obvious that she's nervous if the word was stamped onto her forehead.

"So, you made me an altar," I tease, trying to help Y/N calm down and loosen up some.

"Of course, I made you an altar, Jay. You're Hispanic, it's part of your culture. Just because Bruce won't respect it doesn't mean I won't," Her words come out hot and fast, like she's embarrassed that I saw her memorial of me. "Dumb, stupid, ginger ass, Hispanic boy," she mumbles, walking into the room.

"Not my fault a Hispanic woman fell in love with an Irish man," I shoot back, watching as she slides onto her bed, her eyes looking everywhere but me.

"I know," she mutters, lying back on her bed. "So... you must have one hell of a story to tell me."

————————————

Ever since my lap around the Lazarus pit, it's been weird waking up. Mostly because my body doesn't remember it's alive yet, and partly because my subconscious has the same feeling, which means it takes a second to remember to breathe in the morning.

Just like every morning, it takes me a second to remember how to breathe along with taking some time to remember I'm not in a box in the ground. I can feel pressure on my chest. It isn't dirt, it's just my mind playing tricks on me. Just a PTSD attack. It'll clear up any second now.

Except, it doesn't clear up. I debate on whether I should open my eyes or not. Sometimes opening my eyes makes the attack worse. I don't want to take that chance. There's nothing on my chest, I'm fine. I repeat the thought as I slide my head over my chest. Instead of coming in contact with myself, my fingers slide into a bundle of hair. Well, that's not dirt but the sure as shit is something or someone on top of me.

I slowly open my eyes, being met with the sight of Y/N curled up on top of me. I can feel the smile crossing my face as I look down at her. She looks so peaceful, fast asleep, softy breathing as she clings to me. I've missed these peaceful moments with Y/N. Most days memories like these were the only thing keeping me going.

I shift a bit, peaking at the alarm clock on her nightstand; Five sixteen. I didn't plan on spending the night, but there was a lot to talk about, and a lot of time to make up for. Most of the time was spent with me explaining everything from the past four years, my death, the Lazarus pit, my service in the League of Assassins, my reappearance in Gotham, and the newly forming hatred between Bruce and me.

I guess we ended up falling asleep on accident, especially since my boots are still on. That, and Y/N is still in her spandex suit.

I shift again, flexing my arm and fingers to try and shake the static feeling out of the arm Y/N's head is on. Despite my efforts to not wake her, Y/N stirs, shifting around on top of me. She whines a bit, her body scooting down my body as she moves. It feels nice having her weight on me, feeling her body heat crashing into me. "Good morning," I whisper, rubbing my hand through her hair.

"Good morning," She whispers back, pressing a sloppy kiss into my chest. It's sweet, but I wish my shirt was off, I wish I could feel her lips against my bare skin. "You're alive," she adds, sleep still very evident in her voice.

"I'm alive," I repeat, wrapping my free hand around her back. I pull her up my body, her legs squeezing my sides as her head tucks into my neck. I struggle with being alive again, a lot. It's hard dealing with Bruce. It was hard being in debt to Ra's Al Ghul. Despite that all, in this very moment, it's so worth being alive.

I flip us over, Y/N's hold still strong on me as I do so. I prop myself up with my knee, not wanting to crush her under me. "I missed you so much," I murmur, sliding my hands under her shirt, the spandex clinging to both of us now.

"I missed you too," Y/N answers, sliding her hands into my hair, her fingers twirling the strands around themselves. I push her shirt up, laying kisses across the newly exposed skin. It's been so long since I've seen her, smelt her, touched her. After four long years of nothing but my thoughts of her, I can finally play out all my fantasies. I mean, there's no better way to start the day than with a bang.

Soft mewls fall from her, only encouraging me more. If I had my way, I would keep her locked away in this apartment. Just her and me, and my longing for her. Nothing but her begging for me and me answering her every beck and call.

"Y/N?" I hum against the skin of her stomach. She tugs softly on my hair, letting me know she's listening. "We're going to stay right here, all week. Maybe even two weeks."

"I... I can't. I have work."

"Not anymore. You're not leaving this apartment until we play out every last thought I've had of you. All four years' worth." Her legs tighten around me, an easy sign of her getting needy, an easy sign of me getting my way. I smirk to myself, dipping my hands down to her thighs. "After all, making you feel good is the least I could do after letting Bruce take me from you." Y/N lets out a breathy moan, letting me know I won.

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#young justice #young justice oneshot #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd #redhood oneshot #redhood x reader #redhood

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