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#in his defense he was new but it was still a really stupid question. ive been here for a year obviously i am not caught up.

animalinvestigator · 12 days

Note

This is a silly question but what do you think would happen if current Skipper and Phi encountered original old story Skipper and Phi

hello anonymous.....!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE QUESTION YAAAAAAAAAY ENABLING ME i get so happy people are interested in this story becaues its meant a lot to me for a long time .not too silly at all becuase ive definitely considered it before ,lol >:3 BIG LONG REPLY undder the cut..

a lot of things on the surface about the characters haven't changed...but since their circumstances are so completely differnt, their deeper personalities and motivations are really different too...so, i think that there would be some interesting interactions...

skipper is definitely the one who would have the most clash with the original take on his character..in both iterations, the idea was to have a character projecting an "easygoing, shounen hero-ish" personality, which is kind of thinly masking their real feelings, and those feelings emerge once pressure is put on their belief system and their facade..but because skipper's life in the original story was really quite sheltered and without substantial conflict for until the story starts to set in motion, his real feelings are really just a slighlty more selfish and less presentable version of the person he tries to come off as. he really is pretty naive, idealistic, and childish in the first draft...he struggles with a lot of problems with abandonment and self worth and his over the top personality is an attempt to hide that, but beyond that, hes pretty true to himself, almost against his own will.... his aspirations are earnestly from the heart, as immature and idealistic as they are......whereas, in the most recent draft, skipper doesn't really want anything, and all of his drive and passion is put-on for the sake of his family ...his over-the-top outward presentation is less to mask his insecurity and more to smother his feelings of guilt for having been born, nihilistic lethargy, and anger at his circumstances...i think he would consider the original version of his character kind of a stupid kid, like a parody of his own parody of himself, if they were to sit down and have an honest conversation about their feelings. how-e-ver. because of the way that both of them are, that probably wouldn't happen, and in that circumstance, new-skipper would be like , haha this guys stuuuuuuuupiiiiiiiid. Wanna play kickball. after all, they both ultimately have the same interests and the one thing that will never change about skipper is that he's just trying to have some kind of fun while he can...

phi has always had a really mild personality... i think he's much more of an "empty vessel" in the original draft -- the story then was a lot less about trying to find "meaning in yourself" and more about trying to grapple with the concept of "dreams", so the focus of his character was " a character with no dreams." because of that, he had to be really unmotivated and placid...my intent in writing the story is totally different now, so while phi still kind of has those traits, his main rhetorical role in the narrative is a lot different, so he has a more freedom to have a little bit louder of a personality. . the original phi is bordering on selectively mute and generally more of a puppet than a person for most of the story,so none of the self-defensive verbal retorting and standoffishness that defines his present personality is there at all...in the original story, he's the type to go anywhere he's dragged without a peep...in the new draft, even though he still struggles with agency, he at least has the mind to roll his eyes about things he doesnt like a little, haha. his core beliefs havent changed much in that, he doesn't really have any besides a general sense that the world is unsafe and he doens't know what he's doing in it or who he is. he's experienced a lot more things in general, even though he doesn't remember them, in the new take on the story, so i think he's a little bit more of a realized person to start out with than he was initially. he'd maybe think, "wow, this other version of me is really empty and pathetic." but, ultimately, if you were to put the two of them in a room together, they're both tepid enough that i think they'd mostly just sit next to eachother in silence and pick at their sleeves.....even the more realized and spunkier version of phi i'm writing now is mostly reactive in the cases that he lets his personality shine through....they have a pretty big difference in physical appearance, but even that would probably be an exchange like, "woah, what happened to /you/?" (noncommital shrug) "...okay." and that would be the end of it...

its really interesting to imagine...i think that if you put all four of them in a room, that's when you'd get something crazy... for example , i can imagine 1.0 skipper being genuinely scandalized by phi 2.0's coldness....phi would get annoyed by his clinging and prodding and say something kind of mean, and it would ruin skipper's entire month...those two wouldnt be able to be friends at all, haha...... and i think skipper 2.0 would be EXTRA obnoxious to phi 1.0 to try to provoke a reaction ,and get increasingly frustrated at how little he can coax out...things like that....

they're definitely foils made specifically for eqachother...so their interchangability is....almost zero..haha :3

thank you again so much for asking i had a lot of fun thinking about it in more detail..i hope ti was interesting to you...........and that you have a lovely night!!!!!!!!!!! ^O^

#ocs #i had so much fun.

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i-like-sparkly-things · 3 years

Text

Halstead!Sister fanfic 🍭

Tik tok

Summary : Jay is called to lily's school because she got in trouble. And ends up at med . (but not too serious you know? .)

Warnings : Teenage stupidity at its finest. and 💉s. And a litte sibling floof.

Word count : more than 69.

Note : Immense apologies for my idiotic grammatical language blunders. Also, I'm really new to writing stuff. Proceed at your own risk. I'm warning you. DO NOT PROCEED.

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

It was midday and team was knee high in paper work. They hadn't caught a case yet, so they were stuck at the district. Jay's phone gets a notification and it catches his attention.

Jay : God..... sarge is it okay if i take of for a few hours? I'll finish this at home.

Hank : Sure. Is something wrong?

Jay : *sighs and starts reading the text *~~ Mr . Halstead, you are requested to pick up Lily Halstead from the school premises and meet the head. ~~ i gotta get there.

Hank: Go. It's family.

Adam : Maybe she punched another boy like last time.

Kevin : Hey, in her defense, the kid called her a bitch.

Jay: i swear if this is that again, I'm gonna kill her.* Stands up taking his jacket.*

-----------at school-----------

As jay parks his truck, he sees a dad pinching his soaking wet son, who is draped in a towel, by the ear, leading him to a car.

He enters the school hall to be greeted by a disappointing sight. His sister, lily, was soaking wet from top to bottom, shivering. Then lily's eyes looked up from her shoes.

Lily : Ugh. Where's Will? I told him to call Will. *She said, her voice quaking.*

Jay : why? *he asked in a stern voice.* Cuz you know he won't shout at you, but i will?

Jay answered his own question making lily press her lips close. But it was the truth. Will was much calmer than jay. He never shouted at her unless he absolutely needed to, but even then, he would calm himself down and return to being disappointed. But it was different with jay. ALOT more different.

Head : Good that you're here Mr Halstead.

Jay : it's fine you can call me jay.What did she do?

Head : Well, it's come to my attention that she started a challenge. Lily and a group of her friends, snuck out of school grounds during break and went to the river for a - for a what exactly lily? -

Lily: a tik tok *sighs*

Jay : Seriously, Lily?? *She just looked at the floor, making patterns from the water droplets.*

Head : As she put her and her friends in harms way, she is suspended for a week but no charges have been taken yet. But this behavior will not be tolerated.

Jay : Thank you , sir. Trust me. She will not repeat this. *Glaring at lily*

Lily : yeah, sorry. Won't happen again. *She said half heartedly. In all honesty, she just wanted to have som fun. And well, she DID. But the fun didn't last. Right now she was freezing and could barely feel her fingertips. She was only wearing a tshirt and three fourths covering just after her knees. *

They walked silently to Jay's truck. He let her sit in the passenger seat first and grabbed a spare jacket from the trunk. He got into the drivers seat and tossed the jacket to lily and turned on the heat. She immediately put it on and felt a little better. Jay turned on the engine.

Jay : I knew you were stupid, but not that stupid. Seriously lily, WHAT THE HELL???

lily : I thought it -would make- a good tik tok. She breaths heavily as she tightens the jacket around her.

Jay: jumping into a RIVER? it's mid October lily. In what world does that make sense to you?? you're grounded for 2 weeks.

Lily : WHAT... no jay.... it's not like I killed someone or anything!!?!!

Jay : great. three weeks it is.

Lily : Ugh. *she sniffles and rubs her hand against her runny nose. Lily noticed that Jay missed a turn towards home.

Lily : Jay, Homes that way.where are we going??

Jay: Hospital. You're getting sick. Hopefully Will's still there.

Lily : what ? no........ no jay . I'm fine. I promise. You know i hate getting poked!!

Jay : it's not up for discussion lily! You should've thought of that before you snuck out of school and jumped into a RIVER!!!

* This shuts lily up for the rest of the ride. In any other situation jay would agree with her, but not this time. Not when her hands were shaking and her teeth gittering.

---Chicago med, in the ED------

Will : oh my god lily, what happened?

* Will asked as Jay and lily walked into the ED. Jay had a strong grip on lily's shoulder*

Jay : Guess who decided to start a challenge and jump into a river?

* Will let out a laugh *

Will : you're kidding right?

* lily lightened up and was glad to see Will take it in a better manner than the other brother. *

Lily: whaaat?...... It was for a tik tok.

She chuckled and went to hug will. His warmth felt so good.

Will : God, you're freezing. * he said in amusement as he hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. He saw jay glaring at him.*

Jay : Will.

Will : What? At least it's not alcohol or drugs Jay.* He turned to Maggie* Maggie let's Get a room. Blankets, warm saline, possible hypothermia.

Maggie: you got it. you always keep your brothers on their toes, huh?

Lily: have to some way.*She said, throwing a smirk at Maggie *

Will: Come on.* In a one armed but still tight hug he Lead her into a room. Lily could hear jay signing behind her. She knew that jay thought will was being too lenient with her. *

Will : Won't hurt a bit, I promise.

*Lily still looked away as the IV was put in. *

Will : told you so. *he knew that his siblings shared a deep hatred for needles *

Lily : yeah...... you know, Jay told I was grounded for three weeks..........

* she tried to get Will to change his mind while he was still in a good mood. He raised his eyebrows at jay. *

Jay : and it stays that way. she SNUCK OUT OF SCHOOL WILL!?!

Will : yeah..... but 2 weeks should do it, you know? *he smirks at Lily*

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

Wonderful. You didn't take my warning.

If bored out of your mind : Masterlist here

#chicago pd imagines #chicago pd one shot #chicago #chicago pd #chicago med #jay halstead #will halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #jay #jay halstead one shot #maggie x will #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #jay halstead fluff #halstead!Sister #Will halstead imagine #Will halstead oneshot #Halstead!Sister oneshot

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beigehearts · 3 years

Text

BRO IVE BEEN WAITING FOR A POLY ASK: AND A YANDERE ONE??? THIS IS A GOLD MINE Thank you so much butterscotch princess😭

CW: mental/physical abuse, kidnap, fighting

Of course you love the both of them, if not you wouldn't be here. Or at least you did love them. They were a couple and you weren't particularly interested in being a home wrecker. Yet, you can't hide anything from these two, they're definitely not stupid. To be honest things were becoming stale for Hisoka, and that's when they invited you into their relationship. Everything seemed so perfect at first, two men that you loved dearly who provided a balanced life. You could go to Hisoka for something exciting and new, but sit down with Illumi and relax. The three of you made a power throuple. But if it seems like it is too good to be true, it is. It really was too good.

It had been a few months into the relationship when there were red flags. Illumi and Hisoka never fought for each other, they never had to. You made sure they had their own time with each other. It was when it came to you that there was a problem. Constant arguing and fights over who gets to spend time with you and enjoy your company. Your idea of all of you hanging out was shut down, they each wanted their alone time with you. It went on like this for a few months. Until one day, it all stopped.

Suddenly it seemed as if your boyfriends had never fought in the first place. They never argued over spending time with you, they just knew when they could be with you one on one. At first you thought it was great. You were worried about their relationship for one another, and if it would last much longer like this. They must have talked about it civilly, otherwise it couldn't be so easy for them.

All of the red flags had been lowered and it was back to the honeymoon phase. The three of you got to cuddle at night while you could still have coffee with just one of them in the morning, or they could together. Honestly you weren't so sure about a polyamorous relationship in the beginning, but now you wouldn't change it for the world. Well, at that time you wouldn't have.

Suddenly the atmosphere changed, and you did not see it coming. Whenever you planned to go out, Hisoka and Illumi seemed to be on the same page about you not leaving. ----

"Hey, I'm gonna go hang out with some friends, I'll see you guys later!" You called out as you tied your shoes.

Illumi began taking off your coat and now you were very confused. "You shouldn't go out." He stated.

Hisoka chimed in from the kitchen while he made coffee, "It's going to rain, we don't want you to get caught in a storm."

"I'll just bring an umbrella, and anyway, Daisy will just drive me home." You responded.

Illumi shook his head and hung up your coat, "The news said it would be really bad today."

Hisoka added, "You guys may not even be able to drive in that kind of rain."

---- Everytime it went like this, there was always an excuse. It even got so bad that you were fired from your job. You spend every day at home now. Any time you even mention leaving anymore now, it isn't just excuses. "You won't be able to protect yourself." "Fine, if you get hurt it's your fault." "You can't apply to another job, you really think you can get another one after being fired?" Always something, and it's really starting to get to you. Soon enough it only escalated at it had been. You got dressed to leave and ignored their excuses, opening the door and stepping out. That's when it happened, that's when everything really changed. As you went to shut the door behind yourself, it slammed shut. It slammed shut right on your fingers.

Illumi came out and carried you back inside while you gasped and cradled your hand to your chest. "This is what happens when you don't listen to us. You'll get hurt." That's when you realized how bad things really had gotten. You were pretty sure that three of your fingers were broken, but Illumi wrapped them up with a splint and called it a day.

You just can't do this anymore. If they aren't going to let you leave, then you're going to have to sneak out. Or devise a plan. Of course Hisoka went through your messages, but that would be perfect for your plan. You managed to create a text chain with your 'sick older sister'. She asked that you come to see her ASAP because she is not doing well. This is something that they would allow you to do since it would be a one time thing.

As you laced your shoes and shrugged on a jacket, Hisoka and Illumi watched. Hisoka's hand was wrapped around Illumi's waist, and you could see his anxious grip on him.

"Okay, I'll be back at 4 pm." You had learned to lie through your teeth like a pro.

Hisoka forced a smile and nodded, "Illumi will be there to pick you up."

You give the both of them a quick kiss on the cheek and trot out of the door while waving. "See you soon!"

The sound of the door clicking closed behind you was the sound of jail break. You couldn't help it... You skipped down the hallway while giggling, until your skip turned into a run. And when you turned around? No one was there.

----

Killua and Gon were a god send. They accepted you as a person and your friendship became unbreakable. Each day when you woke up, you were excited to face the day. Most of your free time is spent with these two goof balls. If not with them, you're working.

They swung by your workplace when your shift ended so you guys could hangout. While these two are younger than you, they're very mature. Sometimes. And all of their friends are your friends, Kurapika and Leorio who are closer to your age. You would hang out with them too if it weren't for the fact they were always out of town for work.

The three of you make your way to the convenience store. Killua had been begging for the past two days that you guys go get Choco Robots.

Gon checks his phone and announces, "Kurapika and Leorio will be back tomorrow! Leorio said they got a hotel room for the night and would be back to travelling by tomorrow."

You and Killua know that means they're sharing a bed, but Gon is oblivious. And it's really not important for Gon to know at the moment.

Killua throws his arms in the air and yawns, "You always get off work so late. Why can't you work any earlier?"

"Tell that to my manager, she's the one in control of that." You retort.

An idea pops into Gon's head and you can tell because his eyes light up. "Instead of going all the way home, you should sleep over with us tonight! Alluka would love to see you again!"

"You know that her place is closer to us right now than ours, right?" Killua asks.

Gon's eyebrows furrow and he puts a finger to his lip, "Oh yeah..."

The convenience store's doors slide open and make a quiet 'ding' sound. Killua makes a bee line for the Choco Robots and begins putting the whole stock into a basket. You and Gon look at the drinks section and he settles on some strawberry lemonade. Besides the sleeping cashier, you three are the only ones perusing through the gas station sized mart.

Gon is pointing out the condoms and asking what they are when the soft 'ding' of the door sounds out. Killua is blushing and telling him to put the box back while you hold back laughter.

"Gon! Stop it! Just- just put them back!" He stutters out. They may have seemed mature for their age at first, but moments like this make you question it.

You feel a hot breath on the back of your neck and the voice to follow shakes you to your core.

"So this is where you've been hiding."

You whip around and push Hisoka away from you, it doesn't do anything but he does step back. Next to him is Illumi, eyeing not only you but his little brother. You knew they were brothers because Killua told you, but you never expected to see them in the same room together.

Killua's eyes go wide and Gon is already in a defensive position.

Ilumi takes his attention away from Killua and he leers at you instead. "That was a long trip to the hospital. Did you get lost leaving the building?"

"Hey! Why don't you just leave y/n alone?!" Gon barks at them.

It all happens in seconds, if you had blinked you would have missed it. Killua is slammed into the floor and his head makes a hard 'clunk' sound. Before Gon has the chance to attack, he's throw into a display rack, and tumbles to the ground. Killua is too dazed to react. Hisoka makes sure Gon can't get back up by stomping on his stomach, making him cough up blood.

Your last moment of freedom is spent by watching your friends be beat up. A cloth is pressed against your mouth and nose, and your arms are held behind your back. It smells heavily like cleaning supplies, potent ones. It takes a few breaths before you get dizzy, and until you begin losing control of your body. Hisoka is bent down in front of you and he places a kiss to your forehead.

You wish you knew what he said, but you've already succumbed to unconsciousness. Your freedom is relinquished once again.

#hisoka x reader x illumi #illumi x reader x hisoka #hisoka morow #hxh illumi #illumi zoldyck #hisoka x reader #yandere hisoka #yandere illumi #hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #yandere

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years

Note

If you ever feel like it, I would love to see a fic for the scenario where wwx and jyl call jc after a family dinner only to find out that their parents didn't invite him. I loved all your bad parents + jc fics! My favourite so far was the mingxicheng one, where madame yu made jc leave them for 3yrs! And the series where lxc saves jc from zidian and takes him to cloud recesses has a special place in my heart (first cql fic ive ever read!)

BeeTober 2020 Day 15

Spite - Golden

Day 15 of BeeTober 2020 finally gives me an excuse to finish this wip that has been laying around for far too long now. Have some family feels between these three siblings!

Jiang Cheng is enjoying a rare, quiet evening at home, when his phone rings.

He put it on the table when he swaddled himself in a blanket, and it’s biting him in the ass now, because he not only has to unwrap himself, but he also has to stretch uncomfortably to reach the phone.

When he half slides off the couch in the process, Jiang Cheng figures it would have been easier to simply stand up, but by then the phone is in his hands.

Nuisance it says, and Jiang Cheng groans into the couch.

He was having a calm evening. He does not want to talk to Wei Wuxian, who will upend Jiang Cheng’s tranquillity.

Jiang Cheng is still debating weather he should mute his phone or not, when it suddenly lights up again, but this time it says A-jie.

There is no way in hell that Jiang Cheng wouldn’t pick up when Jiang Yanli is calling but seeing her name on the phone so shortly after Wei Wuxian’s makes Jiang Cheng panic.

“Is everyone alright?” Jiang Cheng asks as soon as he accepted the call and when Wei Wuxian huffs at the other end of the line, Jiang Cheng feels betrayed.

“So you have time to answer shi-jie, but not me?” Wei Wuxian asks and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“You know I love her more,” he gives back, laughing at Wei Wuxian’s indignant squeak. “What do you want?” Jiang Cheng asks once Wei Wuxian calmed down and he feels slightly betrayed when he realizes that his siblings are together and didn’t even ask him to join them.

Jiang Cheng tries to push that thought away, because they are allowed to spend time together without him—of course they are—but Jiang Cheng has a hard time fighting his insecurities.

“What are you doing?” Wei Wuxian asks and Jiang Cheng looks down at his blanket.

“Nothing?” he asks, because he doesn’t think it warrants being said that he is a slob tonight.

There is a very icy silence from Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng frowns.

“Why?” Jiang Cheng carefully asks, already on the defense.

“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” Wei Wuxian snaps and Jiang Cheng shrugs, even though Wei Wuxian can’t see him.

“I mean, I’m on the couch, about to start my second movie?” Jiang Cheng unsurely gives back.

“You stupid asshole,” Wei Wuxian seethes and before Jiang Cheng can react to that Wei Wuxian snaps out “Just stay where the fuck you are,” before he simply hangs up on Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng is left to stare at his phone, wondering what that was all about, before he remembers that Jiang Yanli must have been with Wei Wuxian.

He clicks into his conversation with her and quickly types out Is everything alright?

It doesn’t take her long to answer, but when Jiang Cheng gets the message, he feels as confused as before.

Yes. Stay where you are!

As if he was going to leave his blanket nest, Wei Wuxian’s mood be damned.

It takes them almost half an hour to get to Jiang Cheng’s apartment, and when they ring, Jiang Cheng stays on the couch.

They are being cryptic, and rude for no reason, and they interrupted Jiang Cheng’s relaxing evening; so just to spite them Jiang Cheng makes them search for their own keys instead of getting up and opening the door for them.

Jiang Cheng can hear Wei Wuxian curse before he even gets the door open, and Jiang Yanli’s calming murmur is not far behind, but still, Jiang Cheng is entirely unprepared for the way Wei Wuxian storms into his living-room.

“What the fuck,” Wei Wuxian says first thing when he sees Jiang Cheng all bundled up on the couch, and Jiang Cheng glares at him, because he told him that was what he was doing.

There really is no need to be this surprised by it.

“What?” Jiang Cheng asks, directing the question more to Jiang Yanli than Wei Wuxian, because she’s bound to be the more helpful one here, but Wei Wuxian steps between them.

“Have you been doing this all evening?” Wei Wuxian asks and his voice is so accusing that Jiang Cheng immediately bristles.

He’s allowed to take the evening off, thank you very much.

“Yes,” he bites out, not bothering to explain anything, as long as Wei Wuxian doesn’t tell him what has him worked up like that.

“And you think this was more important than coming to family dinner? Where Uncle Jiang announced that he’ll be stepping down soon? Really?” Wei Wuxian demands to know and Jiang Cheng goes ice cold all over.

“Family dinner,” Jiang Cheng repeats and he starts to tremble all over.

“Yes, for fucks sake. The one you couldn’t attend because you’re so ‘busy’,” Wei Wuxian bites out, but Jiang Yanli puts a calming hand to his arm.

“A-Cheng?” she asks, clearly picking up on Jiang Cheng’s mood, but Jiang Cheng is already untangling himself from his blanket.

“I need to be alone,” Jiang Cheng says, and he feels very removed from his own body.

He’s cold all over, and he thinks he’s still shaking faintly but he barely registers it. All he knows is that he needs to be alone right this moment.

So he gets up and walks past Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli without looking at them, and then he makes a beeline for his bedroom.

He feels like he’s frozen, rather than angry, and so he closes the door behind him with a soft click instead of throwing it shut and then he simply stands in the middle of his bedroom for a moment, before he walks over to the bed and crawls under the blanket there.

He pulls it up over his head, and then he simply stares into nothing.

A family dinner. Where his father made a very big announcement.

And Jiang Cheng wasn’t even invited.

That thought finally breaks through his shock and his eyes start to burn with tears.

He always knew that Wei Wuxian was his father’s golden boy and that Jiang Yanli would always be the most beloved by his parents, but to think that his parents didn’t even ask him to this family dinner cuts deeper than Jiang Cheng could have ever imagined.

Jiang Cheng curls up into a small ball and presses his face into the mattress, overly aware of the hot tears that slide out of his eyes.

When his door opens, Jiang Cheng startles. He forgot that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli were still in his apartment and he wishes they would just leave him alone.

He doesn’t want them to see him fall apart.

“A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli says, and her voice is soft and careful.

“Don’t fucking coddle him,” Wei Wuxian mutters, clearly still angry, but Jiang Yanli doesn’t pay him any attention.

“A-Cheng, did you not know about family dinner?” Jiang Yanli carefully asks and Jiang Cheng presses his eyes closed even harder than before.

“What?” Wei Wuxian gasps and Jiang Cheng can just imagine how he shakes his head. “But Uncle Jiang said Jiang Cheng couldn’t make it because he was busy!”

“A-Cheng?” Jiang Yanli carefully prods him again and Jiang Cheng feels how she sits down on the bed. “Did you know about it?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng croaks out and he hates how his voice breaks.

There’s a horrified gasp, most likely coming from Wei Wuxian, and Jiang Cheng curls up tighter.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Wei Wuxian repeats and now the familiar anger bubbles up in Jiang Cheng.

He flings his blanket away as he sits up, not caring that the tears are still streaming down his face as he glares hard at Wei Wuxian.

“I mean that no one fucking told me about family dinner tonight,” he hisses out and he cannot stand to look at Jiang Yanli, because he can imagine the heart breaking look on her face and that is already bad enough.

“No one told you,” Wei Wuxian whispers, the disbelieve clear in his voice. “But Uncle Jiang said you couldn’t make it!”

“Right,” Jiang Cheng bitterly says. “And no one ever lies in this family,” he tacks on and looks down at his hands.

He’s still shaking, he notes, and that’s rather unfair, because shaking implies that he’s feeling something. But all Jiang Cheng can feel is a pitch black hole, right where his heart is supposed to be.

He knows that his parents don’t like him, knows that his father prefers Wei Wuxian and that his mother thinks him useless and worthless, but to have it thrown in his face like that still hurts more than Jiang Cheng could have ever imagined.

“We didn’t know,” Wei Wuxian says, just as Jiang Yanli pulls him into a hug.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t have the strength to fight her hands on him, and so he falls into her deceptively strong arms.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jiang Cheng mutters, because his parents were going to do whatever they fucking pleased.

“It does matter,” Jiang Yanli determinedly says and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head. “You’re family, and what they did was despicable.”

Jiang Cheng wants to cry and break down and agree, but all he does is ask “What were the big news again?”

“Uncle Jiang is stepping down soon,” Wei Wuxian says, just as he plasters himself to Jiang Cheng’s back. “He wants to announce the next CEO soon.”

Jiang Cheng huffs out a humourless laugh, because with how today went, you don’t need to be a genius to realize that it will not be Jiang Cheng’s name he announces to the world soon.

“Congratulations,” Jiang Cheng bitterly says and he feels how Wei Wuxian shakes his head.

“No. I won’t take that position. He never asked me, and it’s not right. I won’t do it.”

“Well, I won’t do it either,” Jiang Cheng gives back, because he has no intention of accepting that position as a second choice.

Either his father wants him to lead the company or he can go look for an heir elsewhere.

“Good,” Jiang Yanli says, and it’s so surprising that Jiang Cheng moves out of her arms.

“What?” he asks, because usually Jiang Yanli is the one to mediate between all of them, and to keep the peace in their family.

But going by the dark look on her face, she’s over that now.

“This will be the last dinner we attend with them,” she says and pulls Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian back into her arms. “I’m tired of seeing them fight, and of hurting you two. We’re not going back there.”

“It won’t be quite that easy,” Jiang Cheng says, because he knows his parents. They have ways to make their life hell, if they don’t do as they say.

“It will be. I will not allow them to hurt you further,” Jiang Yanli decides and Wei Wuxian is quick to agree.

“We’ll make our own family dinners,” he decides and puts an arm around Jiang Cheng as well. “Once a week, and we will never invite them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng chokes out, fighting with his tears again, but for completely different reasons now. “I don’t want to see you that often.”

“Hey,” Wei Wuxian yells and then topples them all over when he tries to tickle Jiang Cheng in retaliation.

Jiang Yanli moves out of the way, though she doesn’t do anything to stop them and simply watches on.

Wei Wuxian’s clever fingers find all of Jiang Cheng’s weak spots and soon enough he’s crying he’s laughing so hard and once the tears start, he can’t seem to stop, so it turns into pitiful sobs soon enough.

It seems like Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian simply waited for that, because they bracket him in on either side, and simply hold him while he cries and cries.

“We’re your family, A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian whispers and Jiang Yanli presses a kiss to his head.

“And we don’t need them,” she agrees and Jiang Cheng clings desperately to both of them.

It still hurts, to know that his parents wouldn’t even think to ask him to come to a family dinner, but with his siblings at his side, it’s almost bearable.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng chokes out when his sobs started to die down and Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian are quick to return the sentiment.

It’s not enough, not right now with the hurt so fresh, but Jiang Cheng knows that he can count on them, always.

And in a week he might also believe them when they say they love him, but right now he needs to wallow and be coddled.

And Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian seem more than ready to do whatever Jiang Cheng needs.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #beetober 2020 #untamed fall fest #the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #family feels #jfm and yzy are fucking assholes #and i will stand by that #hurt/comfort #jc has the best siblings #Anonymous

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whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years

Text

Smoke & Mirrors - part 2

Neil x Reader

Chapter 2: What kind of man

(see chapter 1)

summary: the matchmaking trio changes their strategy, and you end up on a sparring mat with Neil

warnings: language and other explicit things, 18+ and I MEAN IT

author’s note: ...you know what? I don’t want to take any responsibility for where this chapter ended up going. Those characters have mind of their own and at this point I can just write it down and try not to die on the way. (I know it’s far from what we’ve discussed A, but it’s best I could do with what these two had given me, promise to do better next time)

The song for this chapter is Florence + The Machine - “What kind of man” (changed from “Undisclosed desires”, don’t ask me, I don’t know either)

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

___

“...and you really think this is a good idea?”

“It sure beats yours,” said Ives and took a sip from his cup.

TP huffed and smacked his arm. “Hey, I thought it was our idea!”

“What matters is,” - Wheeler chimed in, fighting a losing battle to hide the annoyance in her voice - “it was a terrible one, and we have to do better if you want them to not get each other killed on the field.”

Ives pondered for a while. When he looked at Wheeler, his eyes were full of concern. “Honestly? This sounds like a recipe for someone getting hurt.”

She kept forgetting how protective he could be over his friend. Although this time, she thought, the one at risk was definitely Neil.

Wheeler smiled reassuringly. “Trust me, it’s gonna work.”

_________________

There was a certain peace in the emptiness of the HQ’s shooting range in the early morning. It always helped you clear your head - there was no place for emotions while you were holding a gun. And you always knew when to come there to be alone.

At least up until today.

Just as you finished your routine and grabbed your bag, the door opened and you were greeted by the smirk from under the messy blonde mane.

Bloody perfect.

A week had passed since the bar encounter, seven long days filled with Neil’s tiresome presence during your work time. If it wasn’t a merged mission of your squads, there were training sessions. The shooting range was your last place free from the walking reminder of your recent failure.

Not anymore, apparently.

“Going out already? Too bad, I was hoping to get some tips from you.”

“Aim and pull the trigger. Repeat. It’s really that simple,” you said, shrugging.

The blue eyes narrowed behind yellow-tinted lenses of the safety glasses as Neil sent a forced smile your way. “Never would have guessed,” he deadpanned.

You passed by him, not willing to allow him to get under your skin. But then, just as you were about to exit the room, you stopped and cursed internally at yourself. Closing the door and turning around, you placed your bag quietly on the ground and leaned back against the wall. With your arms crossed, you watched Neil as he prepared his pistol and started the practice.

You studied his posture, the way he held the gun in his gloved hands, trying to find any weak points in his technical side. There wasn’t too much to improve, his problem with shooting during the missions must have been elsewhere. You briefly glanced over the rolled sleeves of his navy blue shirt and the way his jaw tightened when he checked the target to grade his accuracy.

“Look at that, you actually can hit a target,” you said and the corner of your lips twitched. “An easy one and not quite lethally but still, I’d call that a progress.”

Neil scoffed and glared at you over the shoulder. “I thought you were done for today.”

The subtle hints of frustration rang in his voice, catching you by surprise. You didn’t know why, but all of the sudden, the satisfaction you felt had a bitter aftertaste.

You eyed him carefully before speaking again, this time easing up on the mocking tone. Just a bit. “Maybe you just need to train in a more stressful environment.”

A sardonic smile tainted Neil’s lips as he focused on the target again.

“Keep talking then.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you left the shooting range.

Fucking hell, he was just infuriating.

_________________

You stared at the bulletin board in disbelief. The new training lineup added one-on-one sparring sessions, and your name was all the way at the bottom of the list, which only meant more late evenings at the headquarters. And as for the choice of your sparring partner-...

With the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar figure, trying to sneak by you unnoticed. You turned around quickly. “Ives, why do you guys hate me so much?”

He sighed slowly and patted you on the arm. “It’s nothing personal,” he said, his voice almost sincere. But you knew better, and after the crap they’d pulled on you last time, you had every right to be suspicious.

“You could have picked anyone else for him,” you complained, quite desperate to try anything to avoid spending more time with that blonde pain in the ass.

“I didn’t pick shit,” Ives scoffed. “Besides, it’s just the combat practice, the usual training rotation stays the same.”

“And it’s a coincidence-”

“It’s not,” TP’s voice rang from behind you. “It’s the result of your recent evaluation.”

You stifled a curse.

_________________

Neil’s brows furrowed in fake concern while he looked you up and down as you kicked off your shoes and stepped on the mat. The fact that you accidentally matched your black tank top and shorts to his black t-shirt and sweatpants didn’t get lost on him.

“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” he teased. “I thought you might enjoy it, I saw the way you look at me.”

You smacked your lips as you began to stretch your arms and sneered, “Good, so you know how much I want to punch your stupid face.”

Neil kept his features casual, but the taunting sparks in his eyes were saying plenty.

“I can’t wait to see you try.”

You started circling each other slowly. After seeing him in combat, you knew that you were in his domain. You tapped into all your bottled anger to cover the lack of confidence you suddenly felt in his calm presence.

“Ground rules?” you asked, putting your guard up.

Neil’s shoulders raised in a slight shrug as he mirrored your pose nonchalantly.

“Just show me what you got.”

And that’s what you did.

You always considered your close combat skills adequate. Good enough to let you get out of most of the situations you’d found yourselves into during missions. But after yet another blocked hit, you weren’t so sure about that anymore.

Meanwhile, Neil was clearly having fun watching you struggle to break through his defense. “You don’t like hand-to-hand combat,” he rather stated the fact than asked as he dodged under swing aimed for his head and lunged forward, tapping your right side to mark the exposed area.

“If you’re that close, it means I’ve failed to shoot you,” huffing in frustration, you spun around and kicked, missing him just barely. Neil didn’t give you too much time to regain your balance, making you jump out of the way of his flying knee. He flitted around you and grabbed your wrist, twisting it quickly and pressing it to your back, quickly adding your other one there before you could do anything about it.

“You never let anyone near you, huh?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you tried to wriggle your way out. Neil was definitely too close for comfort, both literally and figuratively. “You’re not my therapist, blondie,” you uttered through gritted teeth, taking a sudden step back right into his arms, a change of direction finally allowing you to escape his grasp.

“Thank god, because I feel sorry for them already,” Neil laughed dryly. His eyes narrowed as he watched your mouth open in disbelief at his remark and a shit-eating grin crept on his face.

You don’t know what pissed you off more - the fact that he was bent on driving you mad, or the sudden realization that the fucker was clearly holding back. It didn’t matter that you were struggling enough with the moderate effort from his side; to you, it was an insult worse than the comment.

You brushed a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead. “Aren’t you tired?” you snarled, shifting your balance back and forth. The question was vague enough, but from the way his expression changed, you knew he got the hint. The predatory flare in his eyes made the heart race in your chest.

Neil sprung at you, faking a misstep on the way to throw you off balance. Your senses sharpened enough to predict his next move and you were there to deflect a lightning-quick hit to your abdomen. You returned with a strike at his side but to no luck. Neil ducked under your elbow and closed in on you, giving himself enough momentum to knock you down and pin you to the mat.

The self-satisfied stare just a few inches from your face was making the blood boil in your veins. Cursing internally at both his reach and flexibility, you squirmed under Neil and that only made him press his forearm to your chest even harder, a roguish smile tainting his lips. “See, there’s one thing you need to learn. You need to work smarter, not harder.”

An outraged cry built in your throat as you clenched your hands on his arms, trying to gain any leverage in your position. You glared into the blue eyes, the nauseating hate burning in every cell of your body.

Neil raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh no, did I hit a nerve?”

You let out a frustrated groan. Of course, that son of a bitch hit a fucking bullseye. And to make matters worse - he had a point, too.

Neil spotted a change in your expression a second too late. You swiftly moved your hands and sneaked them under his t-shirt, sliding them up his stomach. His eyes widened as he gasped, reducing the pressure on your chest. That gave you enough room to maneuver, rolling him off you and pinning him with his wrists above his head.

With your faces again just inches away from each other, both of you panted heavily; a part of you enjoyed Neil’s amused gaze, his mouth slightly open as he tried to level his breath. And then -

“Good girl. Just like that.”

...fuck.

You didn’t know what exactly made your brain short-circuit. Was it the hoarse voice combined with the praise? The way the blue eyes suddenly got darker? Or both together?

And you didn’t even know how you found yourself underneath Neil again, flipped on your stomach, your hands behind your back. With one cheek pressed against the cold mat, you shivered at the sudden warmth of his uneven breath on your neck.

A throaty chuckle made your heart skip a bit. “Two can play the game, darling,” he purred as his lips brushed against your ear.

Your mind went blank again.

Somehow, you made your way back to the shared locker room.

You leaned your back against the wall, crossing your arms. The tension between the two of you was almost volatile, elevating your heartbeat with every second passed and every step Neil made your way.

“You’re insufferable.”

You grinned slyly as your eyes flared up.

“The feeling is mutual, blondie.”

The way his gaze got even darker made your breath hitch. The burning sensation inside of you was something more than hatred now, not caring if you were ready to admit it or not.

He smacked his tongue, a vicious smile dangled in the corner of his lips.

“You really should stop calling me that.”

The hidden threat in his tone made your mouth dry. You raised a brow and held your breath.

“Or?”

He closed in on you and grabbed your chin harshly.

“Or I’ll make you.”

You flashed your teeth and taunted him again.

“Can’t wait to see you try.”

Neil hummed and moved a pad of his thumb against your lips, making you gasp breathlessly and lose all the resolve you had left. A dry chuckle in response to your expression was enough to haze your mind. You tilted your head as Neil leaned in, drawing his attention just where you wanted him. It took all your willpower not to sigh when he sucked at the skin just below your ear and your fingers raked through blonde hair, pulling Neil even closer.

His hands roamed your body hungrily while his mouth moved down your neck. When you felt his fingers going up your thigh, you tugged at his t-shirt, and as they moved even higher, your hips bucked involuntarily, so eager to feel him where you needed him the most.

A sharp chuckle against your collarbone as he palmed over the almost completely soaked-through fabric of your shorts sent a bolt of pleasure through your every nerve. You could feel your core pulsing even harder as his long fingers rubbed you just right.

Your hand flew back up and yanked at his hair, making him look at you just before you trailed his jawline with your mouth. Neil groaned and a laugh rattled in your chest.

You reached for his waistband, but he was faster. Next thing you knew, your shorts and panties were gone and Neil lifted you and pinned you to the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he slid his arm around your lower back. You nearly cried out when he thrust into you mercilessly; instead, you dug your nails into his back and sank your teeth in your bottom lip. As Neil picked up the pace, you clung to him for dear life. The heat radiating from his body carried the musky smell mixed with the almost fade-out scent of his cologne, the combination so intoxicating it made you lightheaded. You felt yourself tighten around him as he ground into you relentlessly, and pathetic whine escaped your mouth. Hearing that, Neil slowed down, almost stopping and you groaned in frustration when you realized what he was doing.

“I hate you,” you uttered through gritted teeth, panting heavily, rolling your hips, longing for the friction that son of a bitch was purposely denying you.

Neil pulled back enough so you could see the roguish sparks in his eyes accompanied by a mischievous grin.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he teased, his voice low and raspy.

You huffed, outraged by the audacity and he laughed, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he picked up where he’d left off. The fire he’d just fueled blazed in your veins, your heart raced in your chest and you felt yourself climbing the peak again. Wrapping your arms around him and pulling yourself closer, you frantically gasped for air and squeezed your eyes shut as you came undone with a loud moan, the pleasure hitting every fiber of your body in violent shockwaves. That was enough to send Neil over the edge, a deep groan escaping his mouth as he came into you, tightening his grasp on you almost painfully.

At that moment, you were nothing but a trembling mess in his arms. Coming down, you pressed your forehead to his, enjoying the way your breaths intertwined.

When both of you regained your senses, you pushed him away and picked up your clothes. As you were both decent enough, you glared at Neil.

“This changes nothing,” you said.

The self-satisfied look in his eyes made you realize your mistake.

No nickname.

You cursed internally, but it was already too late. He’d had it his way, in the end.

Neil’s lips curled in a half-smile.

“How tragic.”

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #tenet #robert pattinson #neil tenet fanfiction #tenet fanfiction #the protagonist tenet #ives tenet #wheeler tenet #neil tenet imagine #smoke & mirrors

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

noir 1/2 bucky barnes x vampire!reader

+++++++++

part 1 part 2

i had thought about making a part three with smut in it so if thats something you would like to see please let me know and ill finish it lol

Song: my name is human by highly suspect

tag list: @cynic-spirit

+++++++++

I sat at the table across from James and watched as he looked around nervously. We had already ordered drinks but not much conversation had gone on yet.

"This isn't really your scene is it?"

I asked and he finally looked at me, brows raised like I'd caught him off guard.

"Uh, my uh, last date didn't go so well."

He said and I nodded.

"I'll drink to that."

I raised my glass to him before taking a drink. He let out a short laugh before looking away again.

"So, James, why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself."

I said and he cleared his throat.

"Well for starters uh you can call me bucky, that's what my friends call me."

I nodded slowly, he seemed like he was reminiscing for a moment.

"Um I'm a hundred and six."

He said lightly and I laughed. He looked nervous again.

"If you're a hundred and six then so am I."

I quipped back and he seemed shocked.

"Right."

A nervous laugh. Cute. I took another drink.

"No seriously."

I said and he nodded.

"I'm not really one for mockery."

He said stoically and I shook my head.

"No, no, don't take it that way! I'm not either. I'm sorry it came off that way."

I said quickly and I could see him shift to rub his gloved hands together under the table.

"In all actuality 1917 was a pretty interesting year, if I'm doing my math correct."

He drew his brows.

"It was?"

He asked and I nodded.

"Well it's not every day America joins a world war, late to the party as usual but still. Don't get me wrong there was a lot that happened that year but that was probably the most memorable. My husband at the time was drafted that September."

He looked even more confused than he did earlier, his brows almost touching at this point if it weren't for the frown line between them.

"I know it's impolite to ask a woman her age but exactly how old are you?"

He asked quizzically and I looked up to think for a moment.

"Uh, this year on my actual birthday I will be two... Hundred and... Eight? I think?"

He laughed before taking a drink, finally smiling.

"Great."

He said before leaning over and pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

"This was fun."

He said, slapping a twenty on the table and moving to stand.

"Bucky wait!"

He paused and looked back at me.

"Can we talk... Somewhere a little more private?"

I asked and he sighed, looking to the ground.

"Fine."

I stood quickly to match him, grabbing my bag off the back of the chair and following him outside. When we made it out the door I saw him tense a little bit, glancing to me a few times as we lazed down the sidewalk.

"Are you cold?"

He asked, reaching for his jacket zipper and I stopped him.

"No, no, I'm perfect, thank you though. You probably need it more than me."

There was the confused look again.

"You're probably trying to figure me out aren't you?"

He sighed, half shaking his head as he looked to the ground ahead of us.

"I guess I'm just trying to figure out why you would lie to me? Forgive me for being blunt but that's at least how it seems, even after I told you I didn't like being mocked."

I laughed a little.

"Bucky I didn't lie to you. My situation is - complicated."

He looked over me again.

"I am two hundred and eight, that wasn't a lie. Or, at least I don't think it was, it's hard to remember after all these years the exact number. But I was born in 1815 in new York after my mother immigrated to the states. It was a rough childhood and an even rougher lifestyle growing into my teens."

We kept walking. He was listening intently but seemed like he still wasn't so sure about me.

"I was engaged to be married by my seventeenth birthday but the night before my wedding I was kidnapped."

He looked to me in surprise.

"I was placed as an indentured servant in a trading charter, seen by many of the soldiers stationed on the coast of the capitol. That went on for a while and when I had reached my twenty fifth birthday I had earned my freedom."

He motioned to a small cafe on the strip and I nodded, him holding the door as we stepped in, the warmth engulfing both of us.

"Do you want a drink?"

He asked and I nodded.

"How about I get this one."

I offered, ordering before him and paying after him. When we had gotten our drinks we took to a booth in the very back of the cafe.

"So, you were free..."

He started and I let out a short laugh.

"Nice to know you're listening."

I said and he raised his cup to me. I cleared my throat.

"I was free, finally. It felt like forever to get there. But by then I was seen as too old; too old to Mary, to have kids, to live a life on my own. Many assumed I was a widow at this point, even moving back to new York with as progressive as it was still didn't feel right. It didn't feel like home anymore. Until I met him."

He raised a brow and I smiled to myself.

"My first real love, the one who made me."

"No pressure."

He said and I laughed, taking his one hand in mine. His body tensed.

"Don't worry, he's been dead a while."

I said, letting him go and he nodded once.

"Right."

I side nodded.

"Well to make that long story short, he proposed to me after two weeks of courting, we got married the following spring, and on our honeymoon he revealed to me what he really was."

"A crime boss?"

Bucky said and I laughed, him finally loosening up a bit as he took another drink.

"I think that would've been easier to live with but no. And I ask that you please don't laugh at this next part but rather, hear me out."

He rested both his hands on either side of his cup and gave me his full attention.

"Cross my heart."

He said and I sighed.

"He revealed to me that he was undead, that he was a vampire of sorts."

When I looked to him he looked like he was going to crack.

"I'm serious."

I said light hearted, hitting his shoulder as he started laughing.

"He turned me before our trip back to the city."

He nodded, rubbing his eye as he settled down, the smile still prevalent on his features.

"Sure."

I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Now who's mocking who?"

I asked and he shook his head.

"It's just a little hard to believe is all. You seem like such a normal young woman. Maybe a history buff who digs this old man but still."

I snorted at his words, taking a drink.

"You are young in my eyes bucky, believe me."

He shook his head.

"Okay, this is what, 1840?"

"Forty two i think, but yeah."

He sent me a look.

"Let me just get back to the story okay?"

He held his hands up in defense.

"Please, by all means."

I playfully rolled my eyes.

"Thank you. Now we were home, I was a newby and was so hungry all the time. He was terrible at taming a new vampire and I did eat a few of our neighbors but we lived in a bad part of town so people didn't really question it much when residents went missing. But what I didn't realize is that we were being watched and one day when I came home from work I found my husband decapitated on our living room floor."

His eyes went wide.

"I cried like a maniac but when I had heard someone still in the apartment I attacked them. They told me they were assigned to kill me because I was too dangerous. I ended him and I've been on the run ever since. After that I was desperate to find new love again. I've had courtships over the years but the early 1900's were pretty rough. Every husband I ever had was drafted into a war that shouldn't have happened. And I don't fear for my life as much anymore since I've lived in almost every state in this stupid country,"

We both laughed a little at that.

"But I do think of it often. The later years, the eighties and nineties were much easier as far as life and lovers went but even then I couldn't stay with them long."

He seemed empathetic.

"Why not?"

"Well, many people don't employ the idea that you'll live longer than them, it's a losing game. And even those I was open with, they begged me to turn them but I always refused. It didn't seem worth it to put the hurt I felt onto anyone else. And I don't say this to scare you off bucky but I've lived, and I mean really lived. I had one husband murdered, three drafted and lost to war, and three divorces; two of which ended with my exs dying of natural causes shortly after getting into new relationships. One had a heart attack and the other passed during a surgery."

I paused, looking to the table as his eyes tried to study me.

"Ive heard about you, I've been to the Smithsonian exhibit and honestly it all seemed like a myth. But then your friend saw me and pushed you to ask me out I actually saw hope for the first time in a long time. It's not often I can find someone with as much... Uh, life experience."

He cleared his throat, looking away when I looked back up to him.

"I'm not perfect."

He said and I could feel my features soften.

"It's seems I've lived just as much but I don't know if I'd exactly call it living. I was an experiment, an assassin, and a broken man. I've got a troubled past and I'm trying to work through that. Hell I wasn't even sure I'd get through this date given how my last one went."

I half smiled at him, reaching for his hand again. He wasn't as hesitant as last time but was still tense as I took it away from his cup. I looked over his face before pulling the glove off, holding the cool metal against my palm and tracing the fingers of my other hand over it.

"I wasn't blipped, I saw the news, and I saw what was lost. And I think part of you got lost with it but at the end of the day you are trying to get better. You are a hero bucky, even if it doesn't feel like it."

I watched as his jaw clenched and tightened. Then he turned his hand over and held mine. It wasn't hard or uncomfortable but it was firm, like he meant it.

"I haven't had the luxury of opening up to many people in recent times but you feel different. And don't take this the wrong way but you do feel like home."

He said softly and I couldn't help the smile making its way to my lips.

"You wanna get out of here? Maybe go back to my place? The coffee is much better."

I joked and he smiled, intertwining our fingers.

"Yeah, I think id like that."

#wattpad #x reader #vampire!reader #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #the winter soldier #white wolf #imagines #one shots #marvel #326

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vikingpoteto · 4 years

Text

middle children must unionize

read on ao3 ______________________

my contributior for @batfam-big-bang

Summary: Jason realizes no one is taking care of Tim - not even Tim himself. He decides to do something about it.

Notes: I can't stress enough how grateful I am for joining this event. First of all, stan the mods. Stan my beta reader team, @timmydrakewings, @stormleviosa and @sun-lit-roses. Stan my artist team @houser-of-stories, @reese-haleth and @anicomicqueen To all of these amazing talented people that, for whatever reason chose to help me with this story, I can't stress enough how grateful I am. ________________________

Jason doesn’t keep in touch with the Bats after Bruce’s gone.

Batwoman only trusts him as far as she can throw him. Dick is not easy to avoid, but Jason keeps their contact to a minimum nonetheless. Ninja girl doesn’t speak with him. Replacement… Well. Jason does have a weird professional relationship with the kid. As professional as you can get with someone you tried to kill. Barbara will probably never forgive him for making Dick cry so many times. Brat girl will probably never forgive him for trying to kill Replacement. The other one, whatever his name is, is low-key/high-key terrified of Jason. As for the gremlin... Well, he’s like 10? 11? Jason doesn’t hang out with children, not even assassin ones.

So yeah. Not on friendly terms with anyone in the Wayne family.

However he is an instigator at heart and, while whatever they’re doing in the Batcave is none of his business, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t finish one of his rare visits by stirring things up a bit.

Dick usually makes sure he doesn’t do anything too outrageous, but a distraction comes in the form of Gremlin, who shows up demanding to know why Dick is late for their training session or whatever. The brat sends Jason a scathing look but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge him. Dick only smiles patiently and waves Jason goodbye, leaving Replacement unsupervised. Before heading out, Jason approaches Replacement, who’s sitting by the batcomputer.

“So,” he starts. Jason notices when the kid flinches a little. Your regular guy wouldn’t, but Jason was once a bat too. “How does it feel to be replaced, Replacement?”

Replacement’s shoulders go stiff for half a second.

When he turns to face Jason, however, his expression is empty.

“Predictable,” he says.

Jason quirks an eyebrow up. “Meaning?”

“I was only a Robin because I was, how can I put this, a coworker?” Replacement turns his eyes back to the computer and starts typing. “It was a no-strings-attached sort of deal. Bound to end at some point.”

That’s… new.

“You’re legally adopted into the Wayne family,” Jason hears himself reminding him.

“Yeah, ain’t that a pickle,” Replacement laughs. “Can you guess who forced Bruce to do that? My money was on Dick, but now I think it was probably Babs or Alfred.”

Jason stares, unsure what to make of that. Before he decides, the kid stands up.

"I have always been a patch job, so being dismissed is to be expected. I'm just overstaying my welcome at this point."

“You can get dismissed? I thought this was an until-your-untimely-death sort of gig.”

That was not how Jason expected this conversation to go, like, at all. He had never seen Replacement looking so… worn out? Lifeless?

“I don’t know, man,” Tim frowns as though he made himself confused. “God, I’m sleepy. See you around, I guess.”

And Jason watches him leave the cave with his shoulders hunched and an empty stare. Dick and Gremlin are so preoccupied with their sparring session that they don’t seem to notice. Jason sticks around for a few more seconds, stunned, before he realizes what he’s doing. He goes home.

Jason can’t stop thinking about what the kid said.

It’s not that he didn’t think something of the sorts, especially when he was angriest at Bruce. He had thought about how Batman trained his children to be soldiers and, like soldiers, they could be easily replaced. After all, what was one more problem child joining their broken family? What’s another deadly brat being thrown at some creeps wearing literal clown costumes?

He did think of them as Bruce’s kids though.

Not that Batman had any expertise in healthy parenting techniques, but Jason didn’t have any healthy son experiences to compare so it didn’t matter much. They were Batkids for the better and mostly for the worse, and if something happened to them, well, the crusade must go on.

He never thought of Robin as someone that could be sent home out of the blue, like your average GC Pig. A disgrace to the family? Sure. See, kids, we don’t talk about cousin Jason. He got himself killed and came back all crooked. That’s what happens if you kill murderers or forget to brush your teeth. Still, the idea of being dismissed for no reason never occurred to Jason. It was absurd, because, as far as Jason knew, his replacement was the perfect little soldier. Why would he walk away?

Dick fought with Bruce. Jason… well. You know. Brat girl had to move cities or whatever? Or she died, but got better? Jason doesn’t really know anything about the chick. Either way, he knows she became Batgirl soon after. Tim, however, had nothing stopping him from staying masked. Why would Replacement talk about being Robin as if it was a summer job?

Does that mean that the wimpy kid Jason has been bullying was really that cold and detached?

He thinks about it until his head hurts and he starts remembering times with Bruce and Dick and Alfred and suddenly he doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

It’s a good thing Jason is good at compartmentalizing, because that’s what he does. He pushes thoughts of Batman and Robin to the depths of his mind and forgets about it.

He doesn’t find out until weeks later.

He’s not visiting the manor because he wants to. It’s just that there is this stupid encrypted information he needs for a case and he isn’t exactly tech savvy. He doesn’t think Barbara would do him a solid - she’s still ignoring him for… whatever. He doesn’t even know. Probably something about hurting Dick’s pwecious feewings or eating the last cookie Alfred made. Either way, Jason first tries contacting Replacement directly. Only when the kid doesn’t pick up he forces himself to go to the cult headquarters.

He needs that data, dammit, and whoever called programming logic, was out of their damn mind. If true, execute commands 1, 2 and IV, it said. If what was true? Jason read and read and still didn’t get what it was referring to. And why would someone name the commands regular numbers then just… throw a fucking roman number? Just to spice things up? Whoever wrote that damn code should get a bullet in the foot.

“Jay!” Dick grins at him, although he looks unamused by the fact that Jason is coming in through a window on the second floor. “You do remember that we have a door, don’t you?”

“I like to keep ‘em guessing,” Jason says. “Which room is the kid’s? I have a job for him.”

Dick tilts his head to the side, confused. “Damian is at school?”

And then there’s that. A lot to unpack. First, Jason is deeply offended that Dick thinks he would ever go there after Gremlin, the child that likes to criticize Jason's skills despite the fact that a) Jason was trained by Damian's father and then b)Jason was trained by Damian's mother. Second, Damian Wayne. Going to Gotham Academy. Does he wear the uniform? Does he have homework or does he threaten the teachers with a sword until they quit? Did anyone explain to him the concept of playing tag before he murders a bunch of 9 year olds? Jason has so many questions. If only he had time.

“I said the kid . The human one, not the imp.”

“Oh.” Dick seems taken aback. “Oh, he... Jason, Tim isn’t in Gotham. You didn’t know?”

Jason groans. “Are you kidding me? You annoyed him into leaving the planet with his alien friends again, didn’t you?”

“No, he… I actually don’t know where he is now.”

Jason blinks in surprise. So Dick didn’t pick Bruce’s habit of microchipping his kids?

“What do you mean you don’t know? How do you lose a whole Robin? The uniform is basically a traffic cone.”

Dick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Jason had seen Bruce do just that so many times he forgets for a moment whatever stupid joke he was about to make. When did his older brother become the dad?

“He left a while ago. He barely spent any time here at the manor after I gave Robin to Damian, so…”

Jason freezes. After I gave Robin to Damian, he says. Being dismissed is to be expected, the kid said weeks ago.

“Dick. What the fuck did you do?”

Dick looks surprised at the raw anger in Jason’s voice, even though he shouldn’t fucking be. Jason remembers the distant voice on that day. He did think that was oddly cold for Replacement, even if he was a calculating nerd. Except that wasn’t him being cold. That was him lying to himself.

Jason would know. He spent most of his childhood telling himself he didn’t need a loving father. A good part of his teenage years telling everyone that would hear that he didn’t care at all that Bruce kept holding him to the standards of the perfect son that went away. It’s a lot easier to pretend you didn’t care because it makes it hurt less when things are taken away. Jason was a fucking pro at that technique, so much he wonders how the hell he didn’t notice earlier.

“I did what I had to do,” Dick says, defensively. The way he does when he’s second guessing himself, but still in denial about it. “Tim’s a hero of his own right and he’s capable enough that…”

“That you fucking fired him?” Jason barks.

“Damian needs Robin, Jason! He’s just so lost and being Robin gave him a sense of purpose, allowed him to actually be a child.”

“No shit Gremlin is a child! What about Replacement? He’s, what, 15?”

“He’s 17, how do you not know your own brother’s age?”

“Whatever! He’s just a teen and you basically just told him to fuck off.”

Dick sighs. “Look, I tried to help Tim. Tim’s friends tried to help Tim. But he’s a mature person and he wanted some time for himself.”

Ain’t that a familiar song. A good dose of leave me the fuck alone while still wearing a goddamn bat on his chest and making sure to make enough noise to draw attention. He doesn’t like how close it hits to home, how Dick, who’s supposed to be the best of them, ends up being just as shit as recognizing emotions as any other Bat. Jason laughs without any humor.

Incensed, Dick’s jaw sets in challenge as he adds: “I trust Tim and I respected his choice to leave on his own mission, because he knows what’s right for him.”

“Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night,” Jason says. “You’re right. Give the demon what he needs. Replacement is a grown ass adult because you respect him so much .”

“Jason, I didn’t say that…”

“He was never a kid here, Dick, even I know that. You all keep throwing shit at him, messes for him to fix ‘cause it’s fine, it’s little Timmy, he’s so fucking capable, he can take it. Have you ever considered that he was always an adult because you all are the fucking children?”

I have always been a patch job sounds awfully similar to I’m here because he got lonely after you left.

But apparently Dick is done exercising his brotherly patience and Jason hit a nerve.

“What do you know about him? You never bothered to talk to him, to spend time with him. You don’t know shit about Tim.”

Jason scoffs. Dick’s face grows unevenly red.

“You don’t, Jason! You were busy trying to kill him. Remember that bonding experience? Must have been fun for him. Having the hero he grew up admiring trying to murder him?”

Jason throws the first punch. Dick easily dodges, the motherfucker, the damn superior Robin.

Screw it, Jason thinks as they start yet another classic Robin Brawl that would only end when Ninja Girl mysteriously dropped from the ceiling and kicked both of their asses.

Jason doesn’t hear from the cave for a while. His phone gets a weird virus, so he guesses Oracle heard he pushed Dick down the stairs. He just tosses the whole thing away and decides that screw his stupid case with the weird code, screw detective work. The biggest detectives aren’t around anymore. He'll just call Kory and convince her to help torch the place up and hopefully the new Batman and Robin will have to deal with the aftermath.

The next time Jason hears from his brothers, it’s a frantic call from Dick that makes Jason’s blood turn into ice: freaking Ra’s Al Ghul is in Gotham doing his whole Head of the Demon thing. He grabs his bike and he’s still on the comms with Dick as he heads to the manor because Alfred is in there.

“What did Gremlin do?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Dick answers and Jason can barely hear him over the wind. He’s probably swinging around Gotham as he speaks. “It was Tim. Tim’s back and Ra’s is after him and everyone he cares about.”

Fuck. This is the kid Dick trusted to go out alone on a self-discovery journey or whatever. Jason wonders what the hell he had been up to get that much unwanted attention.

In the end, everything works out, kind of. No one on their side dies, but Tim does get thrown out of a window. Of a very, very, veeery tall building. Jason still thinks he got off too easy. As smart as he is, Tim shouldn’t have survived a run in with Ra’s.

Jason is curious enough about it to stay in the cave after the fact. He and Dick sit near Tim’s bed while Leslie works her magic. Dick doesn’t take his eyes from his little brother’s pale face for even a second.

“We almost lost him,” he whispers at some point. “Again, we… I almost lost him.”

“But you didn’t,” Jason says, voice flat. “You saved him.”

Dick bites his lower lip hard enough to break the skin. Jason punches his shoulder to snap him out of it.

“Jay, about last time…”

“Ugh, don’t apologize, you freak. Why can’t you just bottle up your emotions and pretend nothing happened like the rest of this stupid family?”

That makes Dick give him a weak smile. If not for the bottling up part, for the part in which Jason admits they’re a family.

“You were… well, not right. I still think Tim shouldn’t be treated like a sidekick anymore,” Dick continues, despite Jason’s disgusted noises. “But he shouldn’t be left alone either. No one in this family should.”

Jason pretends to be gagging long enough that Dick gives up on trying to be a sensible adult and returns to silently watching over his brother.

After that, it’s a matter of stalling and by stalling he ends up watching the other Bats. He finds from Alfred that Ninja Girl isn’t looming over Tim’s bed because she’s in Hong Kong. Brat girl comes and goes the whole night and Jason doesn’t understand why she can’t simply sit down and wait as a pile of nerves like Dick is doing. At some point, she reads the morning newspaper and starts making so much fuss the one Jason doesn’t know the name - Dave? Dylan? - takes her upstairs to calm her down. Damian is nowhere to be found

In the end, Jason manages to be there when Replacement wakes up. Everyone is busy celebrating, too elated that Replacement is fine, so much they forget Jason is still lurking around. No one sees when his face goes pale and he feels like he’s going to puke.

“How did you know I was going to catch you?” Dick asks.

Tim gives him a tired smile. “You’re my brother, Dick. I knew you’d save me.”

Fuck.

Fuck. It’s like looking into a goddamn mirror, except Tim is so much better at this than Jason ever was. So much that he might even be fooling himself.

But he can’t fool Jason. Dick wants to believe in the best of them, he wants them all to be sane and safe and happy - as much as a Bat can be, at least - but Jason is more of a realist. He knows no one can plan that far ahead. He knows Tim went to a meeting with the Head of the Demon fully aware that he would most likely be carried out in a coffin. Considering Dick’s misstep from a couple months earlier and the fact that Tim had already assigned him and Damian a task, Batman was the last person Tim was expecting to show up.

Of course Dick would save him, any of them. Despite his issues with Bruce, Jason had his hero worship towards his brother restored pretty fast. Dick, the golden boy, the perfect son, loved him no matter what and Jason loved him back. Knew now that Dick had love enough to go around for all of them - all of them. But did Tim know that?

Tim finished his little mission, wrapped it all pretty with a bow, making sure no one kicked the bucket. Except for himself. Timothy Drake-Wayne was the contingency plan for Batman’s contingency plan, but he didn’t care enough to make a plan for himself.

Bruce is gone. Dick is painfully blind. The Drakes are dead. Alfred has his hands full. The Behemoths or the Little League, or whatever the hell the super kids call themselves now, were just that. Kids. Jason curses to himself, because, if no one else will watch out for Replacement, it’s none of his fucking business.

It’s not.

However…

Jason doesn’t know how to put his not-plan in action. He can’t exactly walk up to Tim and say hey, I think we’re not so different, you and I, so I’m worried for your safety. I know I tried to kill you, but that like... two years ago, get over it. Let’s be friends.

Before he figures it out, he hears that Bruce is back. The real Bruce.

He doesn’t know how to feel about it, so he decides to put some distance between him and the family one more time as he takes some weeks to process. He goes out of town to hang out with his friends. He is done with Gotham bullshit for a while.

Unfortunately, Jason finds himself facing his worst enemy: the damn encrypted data.

He hates that dealers now do their thing through the internet. Who the fuck buys marijuana online? Where is the poetry in that? The class of being friends with the sketchy guy that lives around the corner and hangs out with you while you smoke? If they’re gonna sell oregano online to rich white kids, fine, but they’re selling heavy stuff to people that live in his territory and there is a thing bigger than just drugs, if Jason’s hunch is right. He could confirm it by cracking the numbers he stole from their stupidly unguarded computers.

Except the encryption is too complicated for him to access the files.

Well, isn’t that the perfect excuse to take a visit to the kid’s apartment.

Because that is the situation right now. The kid is emancipated, controlling Wayne Enterprises and living by his damn self. There is so much to unpack that Jason wants to throw away the whole suitcase.

He should probably do just that, or at least that’s what he thinks when he climbs to Tim’s balcony (in his head, he hears Dick’s voice going what do you hate about front doors, man?) and he is immediately pushed to the ground.

He is wearing his helmet, sure, but it doesn’t make it less painful when someone fucking stomps on his head, forcing his face against the floor.

“Fuck,” is all Jason thinks of saying.

He then kicks his assailant in the shin and is satisfied when they tumble backwards. Unfortunately for him, they - she - doesn’t fall over the railing, she just stays away long enough to give him time to stand.

A bald girl wearing a distasteful crop top glares daggers at him. She is already back on her fighting stance - one that looks way too familiar for Jason’s taste - ready to strike. And strike she does.

Her movements are similar to Jason’s - fast, strong, unpredictable, unfair - but she has the advantage of being more slender and having more freedom of movement in the small space. All Jason can do is defend himself and not get tossed over the edge. Who the fuck is this girl? Why is she attacking him? Doesn’t she know he is the freaking Red Hood? He just wanted the damn-

“What on Earth are you guys doing on my balcony?”

The girl freezes. Jason does not. He lands a punch straight on her nose and she falls backwards, her mouth opening in pain even if no sound comes out.

“What the hell, Hood!”

Tim rushes to the girl’s side.

“What the hell Hood?” Jason parrots, indignant. “I just got here and she attacked me!”

Tim frowns and turns to the girl. “Is that true?”

Instead of answering, the girl holds her bloody nose and glares at him. She uses her free hand to show Tim four fingers. Tim sighs.

“I know it’s the fourth time you’ve had your nose broken,” Tim gives her a wry smile. “But the three other times you had it coming. And maybe even this time. Why did you attack Red Hood?”

She makes the gesture of someone walking with two fingers then points at Tim’s balcony door. Jason doesn’t know a lot of ASL, but those don’t seem to be the same signs Cassandra uses.

“She attacked me because she thought I was trying to break in?” He asks. “You have a bodyguard now?”

Tim stands and holds out his hand to the girl. She begrudgingly takes it and lets him pull her to her feet. “Why don’t we all go inside before someone notices the Red Hood on my balcony?”

Jason grumbles in annoyance but does make his way in. Tim is right behind him and Jason can’t help but think he’s acting as a shield in case the girl wants revenge for her nose.

“Come here, Pru, I’ll get something cold for your nose.”

Jason takes a look around. As they cross the living room, he notices it looks like a shiny rich person apartment you’d see in a magazine. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected of Tim’s new crib, and he knows the kid just moved in, but the fact that the place looks like a hospital’s reception makes him feel some sort of way.

Fortunately, the kitchen is a bit better. Not much, but it’s something. There are papers spread across the table, dirty glasses in the sink, a mug full of black steaming tea, Tim’s laptop open on top of a pile of books, and there are pictures on the fridge. Jason remembers vaguely Dick mentioning that one of the kids had a thing for photography and another liked drawing. He has to assume Tim is the photographer as he takes a good look at them: one of Brat girl’s grinning face with a big heart magnet, one of Tim and Cassandra sharing the same reading chair, one of Bruce in one of those fancy sweaters he used to wear at home, one of Dick and Cassandra doing handstands, one of a red head kid, behind him Tim, a muscular girl and an even more muscular guy. Jason doesn’t need to be a detective to figure those, even without the uniforms, are Impulse, Wonder Girl and Superboy.

“So,” Tim starts. He hands the girl a pack of frozen peas and shrugs at her dirty look. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Without ceremony, the girl takes a seat by the table and tries to steal a glance at Tim’s laptop. He casually closes it and smiles at her. She scoffs.

“First, you explain the bodyguard,” Jason says, gesturing to the girl.

“Right. Where are my manners? Pru, this is Red Hood. Hood, this is Prudence.”

He doesn’t turn to her so she can read his lips or use gestures to speak, so Jason figures she isn’t deaf, only mute. Maybe it’s something like Cassandra?

“Really? Prudence? That’s ironic. ”

She shows Jason her middle finger. Definitely not deaf then.

Unlike Prudence, Jason doesn’t make himself at home. When he crosses his arms and doesn’t say anything for a minute more, Tim reads his silence correctly and adds, “We’re working together for a while and there are a lot of people that want us dead, so you’ll have to forgive her. She saw a suspicious guy trying to get into my place and she assumed the worst.”

Jason quirks an eyebrow. Tim can’t see his expression behind the helmet, but he sighs nonetheless.

“Come on. She couldn’t know I sometimes work with the Red Hood too.”

I sometimes work with. Ouch. Jason supposes that’s fair, though. Tim hasn’t exactly been informed of Jason’s newfound empathy or his protective streak.

“How did you know where I live, by the way?” Tim asks.

“Alfred told me you moved,” Jason says. “I got your address from Cassandra.”

Tim’s brows disappear under his messy fringe. “Really?”

Jason nods. “Took a lot of convincing before she believed I didn’t want to kill you in your sleep.”

At that, Tim snorts. He’s still grinning when he asks, “What did you want it for then?”

“Tech support,” he says as he fishes a small flash drive from his pocket. “I was hoping you could crack some files for me.”

Tim takes it and nods. “I’ll check it out. I’ll send the results to you as soon as I have them. Anything else?”

Again… ouch. Apparently imprudent girl is welcome to kick back and hang out, but Jason is just a fellow associate that came to hand in an assignment and promptly piss off.

Then Jason realizes that that was exactly what their relationship was like before Tim went around the world to fight Ra’s al Ghul. Damn.

Well. It’s not like he can take off his helmet and stick around when there is a stranger in there, especially when Tim carefully introduced him as the Red Hood instead of good ol’ Jason Todd. He just wanted to check on the kid and he did. No need to get all clingy. That’s Dick’s thing, not his.

It isn’t until much later that Jason realizes how pointless the visit was. He wanted to see if the kid was okay. He suspected he wasn’t, but it wasn’t like he had any idea of what to do about it.

Lucky for him, Tim looked a lot better than last time. Less dead eyed, more like he has some sort of purpose. The fact that Dick is included in his little photo collection must mean they made amends. Whether it was because Jason’s whooping Dick’s ass or in spite of it he’ll never know. Based on what he knows about Tim, the kid might have just worked everything out by himself and forgiven Dick on his own terms.

Despite his decision to take care of Tim from then on, Jason is definitely not great at it. He doesn't think he lost the rights to admonish Dick for not talking to his brother. The fact is Jason isn't great with words. He wants to help Tim through actions.

Still the question remains: how?

(And Tim emails him the files he needed 8 hours later and Jason worries that the kid didn’t sleep, which… great. This is just great.)

Less than two nights later, someone gets into Jason's frequency. He's about to head out for patrol when a creaking sound inside his helmet precedes a familiar voice slightly twisted by static.

"Red Hood, this is Red Robin. Do you copy?"

Right. He goes by Red Robin now.

"What you want, rep… kid?" Jason inwardly winces at his misstep.

There is a moment of confused silence before Tim mercifully decides not to ask what that was. "I'm pursuing a lead in your territory."

Jason hums. "What's it? I'll handle it."

"No!" Tim says too fast. "I mean… it's my case. I just thought you could take the night off? Please?"

This is supposed to be the smart Robin, right? He does know that Jason isn’t a complete moron, right?

“What’s in it for me?” Jason asks.

If this was Damian, he’d get a colorful death threat. If this was Dick, a winded speech on how brothers are supposed to have each other’s backs and he's just asking for a tiny favor, Jason, don’t make me make my ex-girlfriend hack into your phone and block Netflix again. Tim, however, knows that everything has a price and has an answer ready.

“You owe me for those files I decoded for you.”

Straight to the point. No bullshit. Jason is starting to really like this kid.

“Fair enough. You go follow your lead and I won’t murder you for being in my territory.”

“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Hood.”

Jason didn’t say anything about taking the night off, though.

Jason knows that, if he was working alone, Tim wouldn’t ask for permission. He would let himself in and out of Jason's territory assuming Jason wouldn’t even notice - he’d done it before as Robin, and Jason did notice but pretended not to. He can’t track Red Robin as easily, but the fact that he doesn’t want Red Hood around means there is something or someone he can’t control tagging along… and who’s the one person even Tim Drake can never control?

“Brat girl,” Jason mutters to himself, a cocky grin spreading on his face. One of his informants just confirmed he saw Batgirl driving whatever the fuck that is that capsule vehicle into an empty building just south of Jason’s place.

Oracle is probably out of town again, otherwise she wouldn’t allow her precious not-daughter to be messing around with Tim in Jason’s territory. But then, if most of the rumors are correct, even Barbara can’t quite control the new Batgirl.

He wonders what the duo are up to as he lets himself into the abandoned place through a hole in the ceiling. Red Hood walks on the rafters in the dark until he can hear familiar voices. He stops on his tracks when he notices that Red Robin and Batgirl aren’t alone. Wonder Girl and Impulse stick out like bright red sore thumbs against Gotham’s darkness.

Red Hood hears enough to know they’re planning on saving someone - one of Impulse’s friends? - from a local group connected to Black Mask. Their plan is solid, but it’s hardly a task herculean enough to warrant the presence of a speedster and an amazon. Red Robin makes it sound like it’s absolutely necessary nonetheless, assigning each of them a role that fits their powers and going over every little detail. It’s the first time Hood sees the kid in a position of leadership and he thinks it suits him. He seems extremely at ease.

Actually… that’s not quite it. He’s not as wary of the world as he is when he’s with the Batfamily. Not Batman’s perfect mini-detective, not Nightwing’s model little brother, not WE CEO. He’s still very much a hero, a Robin, but it’s possible to see he’s seventeen under the cowl. Even his posture changes, his shoulders relax and he allows himself to be… God, himself. That must be the first time Jason sees Tim completely in his element, no tension, no (metaphorical) masks.

Real Red Robin stays close to his friends. Very close. Hell, Impulse is almost sitting on his lap, his arm firmly wrapped around Red Robin’s waist as he points at some sort of map his wrist pad is showing. Batgirl is clinging to his other side, her chin resting on his shoulder using the excuse to see better what he’s showing. Hadn’t those two broken up?

Then Red Robin says something so softly not even Hood picks up. The other three teens get tense. Impulse nods and disappears in a gust of wind as his friends wait in silence.

Half a second later, something hits Hood’s back at a very alarming speed because of course Red Robin noticed someone listening and sent his speedster friend to get him. He curses while he falls, barely managing to roll fast enough to avoid serious knee damage when he lands.

“Jason!” Red Robin whines not unlike an embarrassed child crying out mom, not in front of my friends!

“Maybe check who’s spying on you before sending a child bullet careening into their back, will ya?” Jason complains.

Wonder Girl frowns. “Is that…”

“The Red Hood,” Batgirl confirms in a flat voice. “Yup.”

“Isn’t he a criminal?” Impulse asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.

A facepalming Red Robin groans. “He doesn’t do crime anymore.” Under Batgirl’s skeptical glare, he corrects, “He doesn’t do bad crimes anymore. What are you doing here, Hood? You said you were taking the night off!”

“I said I wouldn’t shoot you for being in my territory,” Hood corrects. “But I didn’t say anything about your super friends, because I didn’t think you’d be breaking so many rules in so little time. Really? Bringing metas to Gotham?”

Red Robin simply shrugs. “What Batman can’t see doesn’t hurt him.”

Batgirl snickers and Hood grins a little under his helmet.

“Little Timmy,” he gasps, resting his hand on his chest in mock shock.

“Shut up, why are you here?”

“What, you can’t tell me there is a case and expect me not to follow up.”

The other three kids look from Red Hood to Red Robin. It’s obvious that whatever Tim’s verdict is, they’re going to accept it. Even Stephanie. And she knows Jason (sort of).

“Fine,” Red Robin groans. “But no shooting anyone.”

“No promises.”

Wonder Girl and Impulse are obviously wondering whether they’re joking or not. Knowing they’re completely serious, Batgirl makes a face and pokes Red Robin’s cheek. He frowns at her and the two of them seem to have a conversation consisting of weird mouths and head shakes for a moment. Jason would know. He and Dick used to do that all the time. Finally, whatever face Red Robin is making convinces her and she lets out a defeated sigh.

“Well then, ladies,” Batgirl deadpans, “let’s get this bread.”

Despite Dick’s best efforts, Jason never quite fit in with the Titans. With Tim and Stephanie, however, he can work.

Breaking into one of Black Mask’s hideouts is a piece of cake, if not outright fun. He has to hand it to Stephanie. She is not as cunning as Barbara or as deadly as Cassandra, but the girl can blow up a marijuana deposit like no one else.

Sure, the smoke makes them at least 30% high—all of them except Impulse, whose metabolism won’t let him get intoxicated, to which… Just R.I.P. you funky little man, Jason really feels for him.

Even with the little diversion, there were still plenty of crooks to fight. Wonder Girl takes care of most of them on her own— amazons, man —and soon enough Impulse comes running, carrying a dark-skinned boy wearing power-dampening cuffs who keeps yelling at them in Spanish. At that, Red Robin announces they’re retreating.

Tim looks a lot more comfortable with his peers than he is with the Bats. Part of Jason wonders if he could’ve been like that. If he would have ended up differently if he had actually stayed with the Titans and made friends like Tim had. He tells himself not to go down that path, because he is who he is, he certainly doesn’t make friends in that teen sitcom way and you can’t change the past.

He is genuinely glad that Tim has those friends, though. He’s glad that he can feel that way despite the hint of jealousy.

As they leave a ruined hideout behind, Wonder Girl and Impulse are drowning Red Robin in hugs and cheering so loud one would forget they’re still in Gotham. Their friend laughs with them even with the stress of being so rambunctiously rescued. Batgirl slaps her arm around Hood’s shoulder and admires the Titans being loud as if congratulating themselves on the job done.

If all of them— all of them—are still smiling themselves silly as they leave, it’s only 50% because of the marijuana.

Jason quickly learns that Tim doesn’t like owing people. When Jason asked Tim to crack some encrypted documents, he just needed the damn files. He didn’t expect the kid to show up to tear down the place when Jason decided he had enough reason to dismantle the operation.

“What, you can’t tell me there is a case and expect me not to follow up,” Red Robin quips as he nudges a goon with his foot. The man groans, but doesn’t get up. Seemingly satisfied, Red Robin crouches down and starts cuffing the man to another by his side.

“Remind me to never ask for your help again,” Red Hood says.

Red Robin glowers. “I saved your ass from getting stabbed about three times.”

“I shot the kneecaps of four guys trying to murder you, so don’t expect me to thank you.”

They hear sirens. Red Robin stands. “Well, guess our job here is done.”

Hood nods. It’s been a while since he fought side by side with a fellow Bat, just him and another Robin and... it was nice. Roy and Kori are great partners and all, but they don’t have the same training a Robin does. They don’t get the specific maneuvers and the subtle secret signs. The fact that it had been so fun fighting side by side with Red Robin makes Jason feel like his not-plan of taking care of the kid was finally going somewhere.

Then Red Robin stretches his arm to grapple his way out of there and gasps.

“Red?”

“Uh…” He is now pressing his hand to his side.

“Is… is that blood?”

“Uhhhh…”

“Did you get stabbed and didn’t notice, you freaking idiot?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groans, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes over the cowl. “Why me?”

Red Hood sighs. “Relax, kid, it doesn’t look that deep.”

“I’m gonna have to call Batman,” Red Robin whines. “A’s gonna kill me.”

“Over a tiny stab wound? Don’t be a pussy, I’m sure you can stitch that yourself.”

“The stitches aren’t the problem, it’s just the medicine…” Red Robin says, making vague hand gestures. “I have no spleen.”

And then there’s that.

“I’m sorry. You what?”

Red Robin pulls a guilty face visible even under the cowl. Jason wouldn’t blame Alfred for killing him. He has no spleen and he just… decided it was a good idea to bring a staff to a gunfight at one of the grimiest places of Gotham.

Tim Drake-Wayne, everyone, smartest Robin to date.

Jason, however, decides not to kill Tim for his stupidity. He recognizes that particular frown. It’s the I-messed-up-and-I-don’t-want-dad-to-find-out face.

The GCPD sirens are getting closer.

“I’ve got a big collection of antibiotics back at one of my safehouses,” he mentions casually. “I could patch you up so A doesn’t have to.”

Tim’s wide eyes are evident. Jason wonders if this is him being able to read the kid too well or if Tim straight up sucks at hiding his emotions. It’s probably a bit of both.

“You know. As thanks for helping me.”

“I thought you wouldn’t thank me.”

“Don’t push it, kid.”

By now, they can see the red and blue police lights.

“Lead the way.”

He rolls his eyes and drags the kid to his bike. He really hopes the pigs didn’t see them, because it’s bad enough that a hero showed up to Red Hood’s bust, he doesn’t need any cops thinking that he kidnapped Red Robin or any shit like that.

“Are we going to the one behind the new theater or the one around crime alley?” Tim casually asks.

Jason freezes halfway through mounting his bike. “How the fuck do you know about those?”

“I know the location of all of your safehouses,” Tim admits.

“Batman knows about my safehouses?”

Tim quirks an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, I’m not Batman.”

...oh.

That’s… nice. Kind of. A confirmation that he can trust the kid to have his back.

“Smug nerd,” Jason mumbles.

Tim only chuckles in response. They set off to Jason’s place.

The rest of the night is peaceful. At least for a Bat’s standards. Jason helps Tim disinfect his wound and stitch it closed while Tim raids Jason’s medicine stash until he finds the ones he needs. Jason promises to hook him up with his supplier so he doesn’t have to rely so much on the cave. By the time they’re done, Tim’s lips are permanently curled upwards.

When he starts shuffling awkwardly as if looking for a way to say goodbye, Jason nonchalantly announces where he can find clean towels and clothes, as if this is a thing they do everyday. Tim seems baffled, but thankfully he doesn’t call Jason’s bullshit and obediently heads to the bathroom. By the time he’s done, Jason is fixing a meal for the two of them and some stupid movie is on TV—never the news, god, Jason hates watching the news.

Like a skittish stray, Tim is unsure of what to do with himself at first, but he catches the cue fast enough. He sits on the couch all stiff and restless until something on the screen grabs his attention.

“You like Wendy the Werewolf Stalker?” Tim asks, eyes wide.

“Do I like fucking what?”

Jason just needed the background noise to avoid freaking out about how weird he’s being right now. Apparently, that was the wrong answer. Tim launches a rant on how amazing Wendy is and half of it goes over Jason’s head. He just gets that apparently Tim and Superboy both have a crush on this werewolf hunting chick and they used to spend hours watching her instead of doing actual work at Titans Tower.

He also manages to actually eat the food Jason made, which is a win in Jason’s book.

It’s a nice night, overall.

It becomes, not a habit, but a thing. Tim sometimes shows up to one of Jason’s safehouses needing a stitch job or medicine. Jason doesn’t know how he nails which one Jason is at currently or if he just goes to every single one still bleeding until he finds Jason. Or even if he just lets himself in and takes care of his wounds without any help. If so, Jason wouldn’t blame him. He’d choose his crappy hideouts over Tim’s soulless apartment any day.

On the third time it happens, Tim isn’t hurt at all. He just wants to bitch about Vicki Vale stalking him and his supposed ex-fiancée that he's actually trying to date. Jason feeds him real food, as usual, and listens to what he has to say, as unusual. They end up on the couch watching A Nightmare on Elm Street, which, oddly enough, has Tim getting overly enthusiastic about going to bed because he’s curious about the magic behind Freddy Krueger. Jason tells him to let him know if any dream demons show up when he leaves Tim dozing off on the couch.

Tim starts texting Jason. At first, it’s all very professional. Messages like 1 of the stupid crooks in your territory almost killed robin yesterday do smth abt it followed by I don’t care that he’s a demon in a kevlar vest Hood you didn’t have to deal with nightwing crying afterwards!!! Then they slowly shift into something more casual on the lines of is dis u? An d attached a picture of Elizabeth Bennet wearing the red Power Ranger helmet which… What sort of context led to that meme being created?

Jason pretends not to care, but he preens with pride when Tim laughs at his dark jokes. Stupid gallows humor that would have made Bruce call an expensive therapist and Dick squirm in discomfort have the kid snorting coffee out of his nose.

It’s like they’re friends.

Part of him sometimes toys with the idea of them being normal kids —or as normal as you can be in Gotham—and he realizes that he would’ve made friends with Tim so fucking fast. Dick is the golden child and all of them would end up worshiping him and respecting him as their older brother, of course. Tim would be added to their family and Jason, not-murdered, regular problem-child Jason, would resist him at first, but he would soon see that he wasn't just an annoying nerd. He was a fun, annoying nerd. They would gang up on Dick, as younger brothers ought to do, and Jason would protect Tim from bullies and Tim would use his good son credit to get Jason out of trouble with Bruce.

This, however, may be as good as it gets for people with their fucked up upbringing. Jason already knew Tim wasn’t your regular spoiled rich boy and they bond over having shit childhoods even if they don’t talk about it.

All in all it feels nice to be looked up to. To have the kid come to him when he’s in trouble. To have someone looking at him with a shine in his eyes like the one Jason has when he looks at Dick. It makes Jason feel like he’s worth something. He sees Tim get comfortable with him after weeks of acting like a stray cat and he knows the kid feels the same. It’s a new feeling for both of them.

It’s like they’re really brothers.

Being part of the Red Robin fan club, Jason finds out, gives him good credit with the Bats.

Bruce and Dick are always going to be concerned about Jason’s slightly loose moral compass. Gremlin is always going to hate him because he’s a Gremlin. Barbara tolerates him at best.

Stephanie, however, shows up unannounced to one of Red Hood’s busts and laughs it off when he complains about Batgirl ruining his rep. She then invites Jason to watch a movie with her since they finished early. He thinks that’d be very weird, so he refuses. Unbothered, she says an airy “Maybe next time” before leaving.

He thinks a shadow once told him to come by the manor more often, almost giving him a heart attack. He thought Cassandra was in Hong Kong, for fuck’s sake; when did she come back?

One time he texts Tim for tech support and no one but the Signal shows up at Jason’s doorstep with a codebreaker and a list of instructions from Red Robin. Duke doesn’t look as wary of Jason as he once was and the two quickly fall into friendly banter, complaining about Tim’s nerdiness.

Jason knows if he asked Steph about it, he would never hear the end of it. Cass isn’t the easiest person to hold a conversation with. He guesses Duke is decent enough not to dwell on it, so he asks,

“Why are y’all suddenly okay with me?”

Duke quirks an eyebrow at him. Fortunately, he’s smart enough that Jason doesn’t need to explain further. “Tim trusts you,” he says simply. “Tim is the holder of the one brain cell of this family, so long we follow his cues, we’re golden.”

Jason doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Why, you don’t want us around?”

He mumbles something about it not being a big deal. Duke shrugs it off and changes the subject. Jason knows he’s doing it for his sake, because Duke might be the kindest person in their whole messed up family. Jason feels bad for refusing to learn his name for so long.

So it seems like two-thirds of the Batgirls and Signal were always less worried about Jason’s past than they were about his rivalry with Robin III.

And, fine, Jason does get a little jealous of that but he’s mature-ish enough to take what he can get. Plus Stephanie is funny as shit and it’s always fun to annoy Barbara by getting Batgirl involved in his fights, especially when Red Robin is around to back him up.

Everything is sort of nice now.

Sometimes, however, Jason wakes up in a cold sweat with the taste of copper in his mouth and a nightmare gunshot still ringing in his ears. He tried to kill Tim. He could’ve killed his little brother. He’s thankful for the times the nightmares come when Tim is sleeping over, because he can walk to the living room and check on the kid. Remind himself that Tim is alive and breathing under the old blankets and that he’s forgiven Jason. When he isn’t around, Jason is absolutely not above calling him in the middle of the night, making up a stupid case he needs Tim’s help with. For all his smarts, Tim never seems to realize Jason’s true motives.

Now that he thinks about it, he notices that Tim is on good terms with a lot of people that tried to kill him. Jason. Damian. That Prudence girl. He doesn’t find out the details, but he does hear something about Stephanie fucking him up and she’s now his best friend. Jason is more than a little concerned about that forgiving side of his.

Red Hood hates a lot of things. If he were to make a list, it’d take days to write it all down. He knows for sure that on the top of that list would be clowns. There is nothing he hates more than clowns.

Scarecrows are a close second, though.

Definitely close to a tie as he watches Red Robin stumble. “I think…” he mutters. “I think my rebreather is broken.”

“ Shit.”

Red Hood has to think fast. Fear gas is every-fucking-where and he lost sight of Scarecrow three canon-fodder crooks ago. He doesn’t have an extra rebreather, because he’s wearing his helmet and that does the job. He’s used to fighting alone. Not that having another rebreather would do them any good now that Red Robin has already breathed the nasty toxins.

In the end, Hood decides to take the defeat for what it is: a defeat. He throws a smoke bomb on the ground and grabs Red Robin by the waist, ignoring the startled squeak the boy lets out. They need to get out before Scarecrow’s goons realize what they’re doing.

“Stay with me,” Red Hood hisses. “Whatever you’re hearing or seeing, it’s not real.”

They’re five minutes away from his nearest safehouse. It’d be faster to take one of their bikes, but he can’t risk it in case Tim starts hallucinating halfway there. They can make it there swinging, he can keep his brother out of danger.

“I’m fine,” Red Robin says. The way he’s limp in Hood’s hold, says otherwise. “We’re going home. We’re safe.”

“We’re going home. Close your eyes. Focus on my voice.”

He does it.

“It’s just us now,” Hood reassures him. “We’re on the way to a safehouse where no one can find us and you can rest until the toxin is out of your system. Safe, easy.”

“Steph is fine, Bart is fine, Cassie is fine,” he chants, “Cass is fine, Alfred is fine, Dick is fine, Tam is fine, Pru is fine.”

He keeps listing people that are fine, because of course his fears are all about his friends being hurt. Surprisingly, Hood recognizes all of them. He’s heard Tim talking about all of them repeatedly and he knows their names and personalities, even if he doesn’t have all the faces to match. He isn’t surprised that his friends come first then their family.

“That’s right, kiddo,” Jason encourages. “Who else?”

“Dad..” Tim’s eyes shoot open. “Dad’s gonna kill me. Dad, Dad will know I’m Robin, he’s- He’s gonna take Robin away from me, I can’t- This is the first time I’m being useful.”

Fuck.

“Your dad isn’t here. And you’re not Robin, kid, you’re Red Robin,” Jason reminds him.

“That’s… that’s right. I failed him. I failed Dick, so…”

Double fuck.

“That’s bullshit,” Jason says, but it’s hard to keep the conversation going while he’s carrying Tim’s weight.

They’re two minutes away from safety before Tim starts struggling to get away from Jason. He doesn’t say anything else, which may be more concerning, he just grunts with the effort and squirms. Jason really hopes no one was paying attention enough to notice what looks like Red Hood kidnapping a terrified Red Robin.

“Shit- Stay put, Red, we’re almost home,” Jason says.

Tim’s breath catches and returns, erratic, and Jason can’t bear to look at his horrified face, he hates to see the utter fear that has his brother’s already pale complexion turn ashen, his lips pressed into a line so tight it has got to hurt. Jason starts listing the names of the people that are supposedly fine and that catches Tim’s attention long enough that Jason can swing straight to the fire escape of the abandoned building where he set his hideout.

He sets Tim on the dusty mattress on the corner in a hurry and tosses his helmet aside. He starts undoing Tim’s safety measures so he can remove his cowl. Unlike Jason, he doesn’t wear a domino mask beneath it and Jason makes a mental note of talking to Tim about that later.

“Almost there, Timbers,” Jason says. He rips off his own domino without caring about the sting, hoping a familiar face will help. “I’m here. Now, where do you keep your fear gas antidote? I know you carry some around.”

Tim unconsciously reaches for a particular capsule on his bandolier. That’s enough of an answer for Jason, who pushes his hand away not as gently as he should and reaches for the small vial inside.

“Jay,” Tim whines. “Jay, you’re okay, right?”

Jason blinks, confused. “Of course I’m okay, Timbers. I’m right here.”

And as he rushes to grab the first aid kit under the sink, Jason starts to freak out. This gas isn’t causing hallucinations as much as it’s making Tim feel paranoid, it seems. What if it’s a new formula? What if the antidote doesn’t work? What if Tim keeps having anxious thought after anxious thought, until his heart gives in and-

“Jay!” Tim calls, desperate. “Jay, we have to get Kon! He’s- He’s in danger.” He starts getting up.

“Nope!” Jason pushes him right back into the mattress. “Kon is fine, he’s invulnerable, remember? He’s probably doing superdouche stuff in Metropolis.”

“He’s not, he’s- He’s gonna kill himself, Jay!” There are tears welling up in his eyes and Jason feels like someone just punched him in the gut. After all the shit they went through, he had never seen Tim cry. “He’s gonna sacrifice himself to save everyone, I can’t lose him, please, I’ll do it instead. He’s- No! Please, don’t do it!”

There we go. There are the hallucinations they all know and hate. Tim stretches out his hand as if he’s reaching for an invisible Superboy, so Jason takes the opportunity to start rolling up his sleeve and cleaning the inside of his elbow. Lucky for him, he always has a sanitized syringe. Now he just needs Tim to stay still.

What if it doesn’t work? What if I make it worse?

“Kon El, no,” Tim gasps. “KON EL! CONNER!”

Jason had never seen Impulse going full speed. But he did meet Barry Allen back when he was Robin and he never forgot the deafening noise of someone breaking the barrier of sound. More familiar is the noise of his freaking wall exploding. Before Jason realizes, he’s being ripped away from his screaming brother. He hacks and struggles, but there isn’t a lot he can do when a kryptonian steel arm presses against his throat, effectively pinning him to the wall.

“Give me one reason not to kill you,” Superboy growls, his eyes already glowing red.

Jason would be impressed with the boy’s ability to look murderous if he wasn’t about to have his head melted. He struggles a little more. Superboy doesn’t even seem to notice. Jason then pathetically raises the syringe in his hand and manages to choke out:

“A-antidote.”

Superboy blinks once. His eyes return to the regular shade of blue. He blinks twice. His expression shows only confusion when he releases Jason, that promptly falls on his knees. Jason coughs, touching his throat as if to make sure it’s still intact. Damn clone.

“What happened to him?” Superboy demands.

Tim isn’t trying to get up anymore, but rather convulsing on the same spot, screaming wordlessly in horror, tears streaming freely down his pale cheeks.

Jason coughs some more before he’s able to say something. “A-ask that first next time, will you? It’s… it’s fear gas.”

“And, what, am I supposed to believe you were helping him?” Superboy snarls.

Jason groans. He doesn’t have time for this. Tim has his eyes firmly shut and every scream, every time his voice breaks, it feels like someone is slashing at Jason’s chest, robbing him of air almost as effectively as Superboy did.

“I was about to do that before you interrupted,” Jason shows him the syringe again. “What do you think?”

Superboy squints at him, unhappy with his response.

“We don’t have time for that,” Jason snarls. “At this point, he’s gonna have a heart attack. I need you to hold him still.”

Superboy bites his lip in hesitation but Tim screams his name again and he winces as if the sound is kryptonite for his ears. Finally, he nods and crouches down by the mattress.

“It’s okay, Rob,” he says. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

At that, Tim miraculously relaxes for a second. Jason kneels by his side again and holds the outstretched arm Superboy is keeping still.

“Don’t hurt him,” Jason warns. Judging by the look Superboy gives him, the only reason he’s not getting the laser eye treatment is because he’s the only one around capable of helping Tim.

“No,” Tim whines. “Not Jason…”

Jason freezes. Superboy’s eyes start to glow again.

“Not Jason, not again,” Tim continues, delirious, his expression twisting in pain. “Please, please, don’t, help him, HELP HIM!”

Jason stabs the needle into his pale skin and it’s a miracle that he does it right, because he is shaking. Fuck this. Fuck Scarecrow. It’s wrong, it’s horrible to hear Red Robin begging like that. He hates the way the kid startles with the needle. He’s thankful that Superboy makes sure Tim stays put, because he doesn’t think his trembling hands could do that now.

“It’s okay, Timbers,” Jason hears himself saying, “it’s over now.”

“Please,” Tim sobs again, “I- I’m gonna solve this.”

God. Jason grabs his hand. “You did enough, baby bird. You solved enough already.”

Tim whimpers, but finally starts relaxing. It seems like the antidote is working its magic and the boy falls right asleep.

Superboy refuses to leave, much to Jason’s chagrin. It doesn’t surprise him, though. Conner is Tim’s favorite conversation subject when he’s in a good mood and apparently the clone is ready to just fly to Gotham if he hears Tim’s voice.

“You know, metas aren’t allowed here,” Jason reminds him.

Superboy has been stomping back and forth around Tim’s mattress. He's so angry that Jason is worried he’ll break the floor any minute now, but he stops to give Jason the biggest, meanest glower of the night. He doesn’t look anything like the mental picture Tim painted of him. Even with his ripped skinny jeans and 90’s leather jacket and dumb earrings, Superboy looks absolutely murderous.

“I’m not going anywhere until I see that Tim’s fine,” he says.

Jason sighs.

“Why are we here?” Superboy snaps. “Why didn’t you call Alfred or… or Batman or…”

“Because we don’t do that,” Jason cuts him. “Red Robin is not Batman's sidekick. If we can solve shit without involving Batman, we don’t involve Batman.”

It’s their unspoken rule, Jason knows that since the first time they fought side by side - the first time they had a sleepover - and he brought Tim home to patch him up. They don’t call dad or their older bro if they’re in trouble, because that’ll lead to them being in more trouble. They simply watch out for each other as much as they can.

Superboy isn’t happy with that explanation, but, before he can murder Jason for real, Tim stirs.

Jason and Superboy are kneeling by his side at the same time, which says something, since Jason doesn't have superspeed.

“Timbers?” Jason calls.

“Jay…?” Tim mumbles and his voice is still a little raw from all the screaming. He blinks and his eyes set on his best friend. “Conner? What are you doing here?”

“You called,” Superboy says simply. “I told you all you had to do was call my name.”

“How’s the head?” Jason asks. “You're still smart, right? You can’t afford to lose your brain cells, Timbers, with your ugly face they’re all you have.”

Tim snorts. Then groans. “Fuck off, Jason, don’t make me laugh.”

Jason smiles at him and he doesn’t notice the weird look Superboy is giving them.

“Rob? Do you remember what happened?”

Tim starts to sit up and Superboy is faster than Jason in wrapping an arm around his shoulders to steady him. He helps Tim rest his back against the wall and the grateful look Tim gives him makes Jason frown a bit because he feels there is something there he’s missing.

“Hmmm… We were fighting Scarecrow,” Tim says. “Fear gas, broken rebreather...” He looks at Jason as if seeking for confirmation. When Jason nods, he continues, “Jay got me out of there and the rest is… Wait. Where is Scarecrow? Did he escape?”

“That should be the last of your worries, Timothy, you almost died of fear,” Superboy scolds.

Tim sighs. “Oh, to be a young vigilante in the XXI century… passing away of fright.”

Superboy doesn’t get it, judging by his expression, but Jason does and he laughs out loud. He doesn’t miss the way Tim’s lip quirk up.

“See, baby bird, this is why I wear a helmet and so should you,” Jason says.

“Okay, but have you considered that we’d look stupid if we were all the man in the iron mask?”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “God forbid a whole family fighting criminals in leather fursuits look stupid. We wouldn’t fucking want that.”

Tim laughs, even if his voice is still a little hoarse, and Jason is relieved.

He is so relieved to see his brother fine that he doesn’t pay attention to the fact that Superboy still has his arm around Tim’s shoulders. That Superboy’s eyes get all soft when Tim laughs. That Superboy looks a little hurt when he offers to fly Tim home, but Tim refuses, saying that he’d rather spend the rest of the night here.

“I mean, if that’s fine…?” He glances at Jason, reminding him of those first sleepovers, when he was still unsure whether he’d be welcome or not.

Jason is so done feeling or letting his brother feel like an outsider. “The mattress is big enough for both of us, I don’t see why you’d go back to your own apartment when you can just sleep on a perfectly good mattress on the floor.”

“Hm. Cool then,” Superboy says, but instead of flying out through the giant hole he made on the wall, he shifts his weight from one foot to another awkwardly, clearly stalling.

Both brothers notice it. Neither has a problem interpreting Superboy’s fidgeting. Jason finds it annoying, but Tim gives him a pleading look. Jason sighs.

“You can stay too, big guy, but you gonna have to sleep on the floor.”

Superboy’s face lights up and he definitely doesn’t look like he wanted to melt Jason’s head just a couple of minutes ago. He rambles that it’s all good, he just needs to text Ma Kent to let her know where he is and he’s used to sleeping on the floor of the barn with Krypto and the cows (Jason would find that more upsetting if he didn’t know there is a cow somewhere in the Wayne manor too and Damian sleeps in the cave with it all the time).

In the end, Tim bullies Jason into giving Superboy the thickest blanket he has around. He tries suggesting he should sleep in the blanket and let Jason and Superboy share the mattress, but shuts up mid sentence under their glares.

It’s probably the most awkward sleepover so far, but Tim grins at Jason, grateful, and turns his back to him to be able to talk to Superboy in hushed whispers.

Jason tunes out their conversation and focuses on the fact that he did it. He saved Tim. It doesn’t make up for the times he fucked up in the past, but it sure makes him feel better about the present. He’s also thankful that Tim stayed instead of going to his own place. Hearing your little brother scream in fear for your life isn’t something enjoyable and Jason is sure he would have nightmares about if it wasn’t for the fact that Tim was laying right there in front of him. It’s the sound of his brother’s muffled laughter, mixed with Superboy’s, that lulls him to sleep.

Jason should have noticed then. But he didn’t.

For an intelligent guy, Jason can be really stupid sometimes.

The thing is… Jason is smart. He’s not Tim Drake smart, but he’s still a good detective. He’s also fairly sociable. Or at least he used to be, before he, you know, died and went through all the trauma, etc. He is no Dick Grayson, but he can hold a good conversation, pick up the right social cues, all that crap.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t mess up sometimes.

You see, months go by. Red Hood and Red Robin don’t often go on the field together, after all it’d do a number to both of their reputations, but, when they do, one of them always ends up injured and the other carries him home. It’s like a curse, the universe telling them to stick to their off-patrol partnership. Then a couple of weeks go by and they miss the feeling of fighting side-by-side and there they go again.

Tim keeps showing up at Jason’s place whenever he feels like it and he even hangs around Jason’s visiting friends sometimes. Kori adores Tim from the first time she puts her eyes on him. Roy takes a little longer to warm up, but even he can’t resist the kid. Jason likes it. He likes having his brother around. He likes that they get on like a house on fire.

So much he forgets Tim is a master of hiding shit.

On the week nearing Tim’s 19th birthday, Jason goes to his apartment. He doesn’t realize until he’s halfway there that he hadn’t been to Tim’s place since the night he met Prudence, which is odd, because it’d been basically a year and a half. Still, Tim goes over to Jason’s place all the time. The fact that Jason doesn’t repay the favor has everything to do with the fact that Jason hates Tim’s magazine apartment and nothing else.

Right?

Instead of going for the door, Jason uses his signature move and just swings to the balcony. The door is unlocked - Jason really has to have a talk with Tim about security, they’re in Gotham, for fuck’s sake - and he lets himself in.

To Tim’s credit, the place looks more well lived in now. There are mismatched pillows on the couch, a forgotten mug and a couple of books on the coffee table. Jason recognizes his copy of The Count of Monte Cristo and makes an annoyed sound noticing Tim’s bookmarker is still somewhere in the middle of the book even if it’s been weeks since Jason let him borrow it.

“Tim?” Jason calls. It’s half past nine, a little early for vigilante standards, but…

He hears the sound of someone sputtering and coughing from the kitchen. There he is.

Jason heads there and finds Tim desperately grabbing paper towels to clean coffee he apparently just spilled on his bare chest.

“J-Jason!”

“Jumpy aren’t we?” Jason comments. “What’s up, baby bird?”

It’s clear that Tim had just woken up, judging by his messy hair and the fact that he’s wearing nothing but red sweatpants with Superman’s symbol all over. His mildly terrified expression is weird, though. Tim is usually slow in the morning, but not that easy to startle.

“What are you doing here?” Tim whispers, clearly panicking.

The fact that Jason never visits Tim’s place suddenly comes to his mind. The possibility of him not being welcome hits him and it’s surprisingly painful. He thought they were doing well, that the kid liked him. All this time, was he being arrogant?

As his brain scrambles for something to say, something to think, he notices a sound that he hadn’t registered before: the shower.

Suddenly Tim’s rapidly reddening cheeks and doe wide eyes gain a new meaning. Jason forgets the hurt and a sly smile stretches on his face.

“Oh my god. Oh god, this is priceless. Baby bird, do you have a lady guest from last night?”

Tim makes a weird choking sound and this is too good, Jason is too delighted, look at little Timmy go, already getting it. (Jason would’ve chosen different pants for the morning after, but alas.)

Then a voice calls out: “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

A male voice.

Tim’s face becomes three shades darker, now perfectly matching his pants. Jason’s grin is now frozen on his face, his eyes wide with the realization.

The shower stops.

“Tim?” The voice calls again.

“I’m fine, Kon!” Tim responds and his voice is surprisingly even, considering he looks like he’s having an aneurysm.

That’s a bat for you. Master of hiding their emotions.

Sort of.

Kon, Tim said. Jason realizes that Tim isn’t wearing Superman merch. The sweatpants are Superboy themed.

Jason still remembers Superboy’s protective streak all those months ago and the fact that he woke up to the two of them holding hands - at the time, he thought nothing of it, because it had been a stressful night and he didn’t blame either boy for wanting to make sure the other was okay - and he thinks of all the subsequent times Tim went on and on about Conner and how a couple of weeks ago Tim just stopped mentioning Conner altogether.

God, Jason is the worst detective ever.

Tim pushes Jason out of the kitchen and towards the living room, presumably farther from the bathroom where his boyfriend with super hearing was showering.

“Fuck,” Tim mutters, “ fuckfuckfuck… ”

And he looks and sounds so distraught that Jason loses all the eagerness to tease him, concern quickly replacing any initial surprise he might have been feeling.

“Look,” Tim murmurs, looking anywhere but at Jason’s eyes, “it’s not… we’re just…”

Tim scrambles for words and this is so unlike him - Tim always has a plan, always knows what to say - it takes a moment for Jason to catch up on why he’s a stuttering mess. Jason had been so excited to find out his little brother had a boyfriend he forgot he lived in a world where homophobia was a thing.

“Timbers, chill out.” Jason grabs Tim’s hands from where they’re still resting on his shoulders. “It’s just me.”

Tim dares raise his gaze to meet Jason’s and it hurts a bit to see still a little fear in his blue eyes. Jason gives him an encouraging grin.

“I can’t believe you officially bagged a kryptonian. Way to go, kid.”

His shoulders slouch in utter relief right before he starts blushing again. What a cute kid.

“You keep calling me kid. You’re not that older. And don’t say it like that,” Tim mumbles.

“Like what? Like you’re snogging Superboy?” Tim punches him on the shoulder and Jason laughs. “Now I know why you were in such a hurry to leave the manor, you wanted your own place to bring your boyfriend over…”

“That’s not why I left and who said anything about a boyfriend? Maybe this was just a one night stand.”

Jason gives him a condescending look. “Timbers, I might have not realized you’re gay, but I do know you. You’re a boyfriend kinda guy.”

Tim rolls his eyes and mumbles something about assuming shit. “I’m bi,” he says.

“Cool,” Jason says, a shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

“Fuck,” Tim groans and lets himself fall on the couch. “How do you de-escalate an emotional situation so fast?”

“It’s a Bat thing, and you know how to do it too. All of us are trained to avoid emotions like the plague.”

“I was not prepared to come out when I got up this morning,” Tim admits.

Humming, Jason finally realizes that Tim doesn’t want to skip the emotions for this one. He sighs. The things he does for his brothers.

“It’s not a big deal, though,” he says. “I mean, you’re happy right?”

“I’m never happy.”

“Don’t quote Zuko. You started the real talk. You don’t get to bat your way out of it now.”

A sigh. “I’m happy. Conner is… the best.”

Jason nods. “Then it’s all good. I’m sure all the others would say the same.”

“You can't tell them!” Tim snaps, his eyes suddenly wide with panic again. “Seriously, Jay, you can’t-”

“Calm down, kid,” Jason cuts him off. “When did I make a habit of spilling your secrets to the B-man? It's none of their business.” Tim visibly relaxes and Jason adds: “Actually… Want me to make your house Dick-proof?”

“...what?”

“I mean, not kryptonian dick, you’re clearly into that,” and he ignores it when Tim pops him on the back of the head. “I mean Dick Dick, our brother. I could set up a better security system so you don’t have to worry about one of your siblings walking into something scarring, especially the clingy one.”

“No security system can stop Dick’s clinginess.”

“How do you think I keep him off my place?”

That’s when their little pow wow gets interrupted by more kryptonian skin than Jason ever wanted to see as Conner walks in with nothing but the smallest of the towels wrapped around his waist.

“Babe, what is--” He notices Jason and slips on literally nothing, barely catching himself before falling on his ass. “ Shit- I mean, nothing, I mean, we were just binging Wendy!”

Jason doesn’t say anything, but he does give Tim a look that says it all. He wasn't judging earlier, but he is now. Tim gives him a look that definitely means shut up.

In the end, Jason stays for breakfast.

It’s only mildly awkward, because he and Tim fill the silence talking about the latest case Jason’s working on while Conner makes them pancakes. Judging by the fact that he’s getting the ingredients from a bunch of plastic bags, he must have brought all the food with him. If anything, Jason is grateful that he and Alfred are no longer the only people trying to get Tim to eat actual food.

When Tim turns to Conner for his opinion, leaving Jason to enjoy his coffee, Jason looks around and notices that there are new pictures on the fridge. There are some of those disgustingly cute pictures of Tim and Conner, their cheeks pressed together as they make weird faces for the camera. There is a picture of Conner by himself and, again disgustingly, he is smiling at the camera as though the most precious person in the world is behind it. Both pictures are held by a sun magnet. There is a new candid shot of Cassandra, one of Alfred-Alfred holding cat Alfred, a new one of Dick and even Damian is in there.

And, his heart stops for a second, because now there are pictures of Jason as well.

They’re carefully placed far from each other, but there are three different pictures. There is one of Jason wearing his Lord of the Rings shirt, eating cereal on the couch, a confused expression on his face. He remembers when Tim took that picture, because Tim waited until Jason had his mouth full before calling hey Jay? and snapping the picture right as Jason looked at him, his cheeks like a chipmunk's. The second picture is a candid of him smiling, leaning against the rail of some safehouse balcony. The shot was carefully framed to not show anything distinct of the surroundings, just Jason and Gotham’s sky.

The third one is a selfie. In it, Jason is asleep, his lips parted and face relaxed, his head resting on Tim’s shoulder. Tim has a shit eating grin on his lips as if there is nothing funnier to him than his giant older brother falling asleep on him in the middle of movie night. Tim had the decency of drawing a mustache on Jason’s face to decrease sappiness, but that effect is ruined by the fact that the picture is held by a magnet that was clearly Iron Man but Tim had painted it red to look like Jason’s hood.

Jason had sworn off killing, at least for a little while.

But he would gladly kill again for his little brother.

As he gets ready to leave, he turns to Conner and deadpans, “I don’t have to tell you that I can and I will make kryptonite bullets, do I?”

“Jason!” Tim scolds.

“What? I’m the first of the family to find out. Least I can do is taje care of the shovel talk.”

“Stop threatening my boyfriend.”

Conner blushes profusely and mouths the word boyfriend with marvel and ugh. Just… ugh . Jason is happy that Tim is happy, but he and Conner are apparently that kind of couple and Jason wants to have none of it.

“So, first we kill Damian,” Jason starts.

“No,” Tim says.

“Aw, come on, you didn’t even consider it!”

Cassandra waits until they decide their plan of action (it’s probably going to be Tim’s) and keeps her expression carefully neutral as not to show which one of them she agrees with (Tim).

The thing, Jason realized, is that all of them have favorites in their family and knowing that makes it easier to tear them down. Dick can fuck off with his I love you all equally bullshit, because he clearly always favors Damian. Damian swings between Batdad’s little boy and Nightwing’s murder baby. Tim will easily lose focus whenever Steph is involved. Steph is oddly protective of Duke, for some reason. Cassandra is mostly neutral. She’s everyone’s favorite, including Bruce’s, but she’s also the deadliest of them all so she is no one’s weakness. She does, however, have a soft spot for Tim over any of her brothers. Since Jason became close friends with Tim, he entered Cassandra’s selective protection bubble and he’s now, by all definitions, untouchable.

Or at least that’s how he felt when she chose him for her team right after Tim.

“We kill Dick first,” Tim knocks down the little Nightwing action figure on the carpet. “Cass, you’re the only one who can take him down. Jay and I distract the others while you do the job. Damian will get personally offended by that and will grow reckless.” He knocks down the little imp figurine. “I can take care of him then. Steph will be hiding somewhere ready to strike. She is best in close range combat. Jay, I need you to take her down before she gets too close.” He pushes down the Barbie doll someone dressed as Batgirl, because apparently they couldn’t find blonde Batgirl merch and they were very offended. “Then we win.”

He may sound impressive, but the whole time he’s speaking he has his head resting on Cass’ lap and she is carding her fingers through his hair as a villain would do to their evil pet cat.

“Can’t I murder the demon brat?” Jason complains.

Tim glares at him - again, not very intimidating while he’s basically lying on his sister’s lap.

“You know Steph would wipe the floor with me. You’re the only one I can trust to get her.”

“Unless…” Jason turns around. “Du-”

“No.”

“Come on, I’ll give you ten bucks.”

“Jason, we’re all rich, you can’t buy me.” Duke doesn’t even raise his eyes from his book. “Plus last time I let y’all drag me into this shit, Steph knocked off one of my teeth with Tim’s staff.”

“If you hadn’t killed me, then she wouldn’t have taken revenge,” Tim argues.

“And yet you’re planning to kill Dick counting on the fact that Damian will try to avenge him.”

“Wet blanket,” Cassandra says.

Tim and Jason go into a giggling fit as Duke sputters, too indignant to put his thoughts into words.

In the end, Duke still doesn’t join them.

As they expected, the enemy was listening to their plan - Jason is sure Dick was against it, but Stephanie and Damian are definitely not above spying - nonetheless they still played their parts as expected: Steph and Damian tried protecting Dick first and foremost, but not even the two of them combined could take Cassandra. Not with Jason and Tim backing her up.

Cassandra knocks Dick down and sits on his back. The large yellow paint splash on his chest proves that he’s dead. Rather than being upset, Dick starts doing push ups with his sister there as the rest of his siblings and Steph fight to death.

Unfortunately, Damian wasn’t as angered by Dick’s demise as they expected and is still a good match for Tim. Until Tim gasps and goes Titus, don’t eat that! It was an obvious ploy, but still got Damian to let down his guard and whip his head around looking for his precious dog. Tim shoots him without hesitation and Damian goes on a rage soliloquy.

Jason would appreciate it if he wasn’t having such a hard time with Stephanie. Apparently Barbara has been feeding her steroids, because the girl is now as quick as a ninja. She hits Jason in the kneecaps with Tim’s staff - they’re not even in the same team this time, how the fuck did she get Tim’s staff??? - and shoots him point blank in the chest. And damn, that shit hurts. He bets it’s purple under his shirt too.

Steph is mid celebration when her victory whoop turns into a pained groan. Twin splotches of red and yellow bloom on her back as Cassandra and Tim lower their guns.

“Fuck,” Jason complains. “Couldn’t’ve done that before she killed me?”

“We win,” Cassandra says.

“Shouldn’t you be fighting to the death now?” Dick asks. Now that Cass is off his back, he’s lying on the side like one of your French girls. Jason wishes Cass would shoot him again.

“I would never betray Cass,” Tim says.

“We rule together.” She walks to him and stands on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead.

Tim grins a wicked grin because he knows he is Cassandra’s favorite and everyone can die mad about it.

Steph and Damian start shouting their complaints at the same time while Dick laughs his ass off. From his lawn chair, Duke is glaring at them as if he can’t believe he’s legally related to any of these weirdos.

His gaze meets Dick’s and his older brother looks absolutely elated with pride even though all of their siblings are yelling about paintball.

Jason simply smiles back.

#jason todd #tim drake #red hood #red robin #batfam #batfam big bang 2020 #poteto writing #red bros #collab

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mayabruhbruh · 4 years

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Stranger Things 4 Analysis and Theory

I don’t know if anyone else has done posts on this stuff yet (it’s really likely, but i’d not want to take the credit if i’m not the only one who’s thought of this)

I know @kaypeace21 has made tons of posts on the s4 movies from Video Store Friday, and many others have theories and analyses, but back in July I took it upon myself to research more into the very last few scenes of s3. Specifically the three months later time stamp, where Steve and Robin are in search for a new job.

My main focus was the four movies that they mentioned for Keith at the counter. “Animal House”, “The Hidden Fortress”, “Children Of Paradise”, and “The Apartment”.

(reminder that if you read this, it could be spoilers for the final cut of the actual show if i end up being correct about some of this, so read at your own risk)

My first theory, which I’ve already discussed in a separate reblog, is about The Hellfire Club. But i’ll say it here too.

Basically,

(sorry for the sucky quality)

Animal House is about two awkward freshmen going into college and joining a fraternity of rejects. It matches Mike, Dustin and the Hellfire Club perfectly! Personally, my lowkey theory is that they’re going to have to go though an entirety of initiation activities (possibly drugs too, if what we’ve heard is correct) and Lucas and Max will be in their own storylines up until the supernatural threat brings them back together again. This could be wayy off, but still its my idea.

As for Max and Lucas...

I’m not sure about the entirety of the plot of this movie, but the last line sounds a lot like something that would happen between Lumax. Lucas is a basketball jock now, I think that’s crystal clear now seeing from the Pep Rally poster, and how he’s always been the one in the group to be able to mask his nerdy side. For Dustin and Mike, I know it’s much harder for them. Anyways, Max, I’m pretty positive by now, is going to be extremely distant and defensive from everyone just like she was in the beginning of s2, since she just had a big change happening in her life. It’s the same now, except with the grief and loss of Billy. My guess, from the hints of this movie and other stuff, is that Lucas is going to come face to face with his reputation as a popular kid, and his love for Max. Like the summary says, he must decide between the advancement of his career or the girl that he loves. Real hard hitting stuff.

Onto the next one. MIKE WHEELER. (or will byers)

I watched an analysis video on this movie, because I haven’t seen it yet, but again the very last line is what I’d like to focus on.

My. Jaw. Dropped.

I’ve read many analyses of Mike Wheeler being gay (courtesy of @kaypeace21 @hawkinsschoolcounselor and MANY others), but I dunno, I was always just so skeptical no matter how much it made sense. But when I saw this WHAT THE HELL?!?’);/&? It’s stupid of me to not have believed it sooner, but I hope this is the movie that foreshadows Mike’s storyline this season. I’m assuming Mike will have to “prove his expertise in battle”, or perhaps prove he can go through with all of the initiation shit for The Hellfire Club, while hiding his growing revelation that he might be gay/bisexual.

BUT a possibly more likely scenario would be that this movie connects with Will Byers’ storyline this season instead. Perhaps the hardships of a new school and a new town has Will shaken up, and he also has his sexuality awakening that he has to hide from new people. I say that it’s more likely for him, because Will has always been more heavily queer-coded (not exactly heavier, but just extremely much more apparent and obvious opposed to Mikes queercoded subtext that we really had to dig for).

I also didn’t mention this in my reblog from earlier, but I want to address my opinions on the apparent cheerleader that meets Mike and befriends one another. One of my friends on twitter said Chrissy (her name, or so we think lmao) might be a key component to Mike being able to discover and come to terms with his sexuality. But then again, a different friend of mine thinks that the amount of content were getting is oddly suspicious, and that the Duffers are feeding us all the wrong information to lead us to all the wrong conclusions. But, at this point, why not both. At the moment, everyone thinks that Chrissy is Mikes new love interest, but what if she really isn’t, and they’re pulling a Robin on us (i call it a robin because it was technically straight-baiting in s3 LMFAO). I’m not saying that she might be a lesbian (although 👀 it says on her character info that she’s 18 (robins got some game to work with now ahaha)) but it could be a straight-bait up until she helps Mike realize his sexuality (i would have said realizes his love for Will😍😍 but recently ive been trying not to input byler into everything i fucking say, so theres how that’s going). Anyways. Last movie!

Now, I’m currently not super concrete on this one to be completely honest. I have a few in mind...

Okay, so don’t attack me, but this could possibly be a mileven storyline. It sort of fits. They have an undeniable connection, but “their fortunes shift considerably and they’re pushed apart” aka the misfortune of the mindflayer and hawkins not being safe for them leads them to moving away and literally being pushed apart. I don’t know about the pursuing other relationships, but we still have no idea what’s going on with El Hopper tbh, i havent a single clue what’s going to be happening with her storyline atm. But either way, that could be it.

ORRRR the MUCH more likely scenario, Jancy :)

Bloggers on here have already predicted that they wouldn’t be endgame, and I was only slightly skeptical because although their relationship was built on shared trauma, a very unstable foundation to have for a ship tbh, i still hung onto the fact that they cared for eachother a lot :,( But the entirety of their season 3 bickering and this summary kind of sealed the deal.

Just like Mike and El, Nancy and Jonathan have been pushed apart aswell. It was already seen in season three that they’d be better of leading separate lives, aka Jonathan was doing fine at the internship, whereas Nancy could have been somewhere better for herself. I doubt they broke up at the end of season 3, but there’s bound to be new relationships for them seperately. It sucks bc I love Jancy, but s3 showed how badly they snap at one another when there isn’t a life threatening event at hand. Jopper on the other hand, I thought their bickering was adorable, but i’m getting off track, sorry lmfaoo.

Once again, I probably am not the first to talk about these, but jsyk if you steal this from me specifically i will track you down and end you. I’ve been speculating about these things since April and July, which is pretty weak tbh, but that was when i had nothing better to do LMFAO. i hope i got at least something right, but i haven’t seen many of the video store friday’s movies, which sucks bc those could really help. But whatever.

(i wrote this really late at night, and it’s poorly edited bc my eyesight sucks lmfao, but i hope you get what i mean)

And that’s it! I hope you like it, or had some sort of impact from it idk, just sharing my thoughts tbh. Anygays, if you have any questions/added ideas/thoughts of any kind, my inbox is always here, you can private message me, and comment if you want!! i love y’all sm lmfao, so excited for the upcoming content were about to get soon, byee!

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chocoholicannanymous · 3 years

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If the Spit Hits the Fan (Glee) pt XIV

Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, part VI, pt VII, part VIII, part IX, part X, part XI, part XII and part XIII.

Posting this for day 3 (Dalton) of @kbweek2020, for reasons.

Benjamin Harris asks Kurt to call him Ben during their first meeting, and pencils him in for two sessions per week “for now”. Kurt doesn't know whether to be grateful that he's at a school where his mental health is considered so important or horrified that he's seen as needing that much help.

When he brings it up with Sebastian the answer is “grateful” and Kurt's pretty sure that it's the right one. It's just such a glaring difference from McKinley where the closest he'd gotten to an adult caring about his anything (in a positive way that was) was poor Miss Pillsbury.

And that's, that's just sad.

So he agrees to go to Ben's office every Monday and Wednesday, and he tries to talk, only he finds he's still skittish and wary.

Ben's good though, and finds a way around Kurt's defenses by suggesting that they bring in Finn for a few shared sessions, “to heal old wounds”. It's a good solution as that's something about being back at Dalton, and about boarding again, that Kurt isn't entirely pleased about. Not living at home means it's hard to be there for Finn (and to not having Finn be there for him). Sebastian is a good friend, but Finn's his brother. Kurt worries, okay?

Ben being sneaky and getting permission to have Finn come over for the first two weeks is an excellent solution.

(The only one who doesn't realize that half the reason is so Finn can get the help he needs but McKinley won't provide is Finn himself.)

Once Kurt begins to trust Ben – once he's seen that it's justified – talking gets easier. Telling him about everything that's lead to Kurt transferring to Dalton not just once but twice in a year in painful but also healing. Even if he sometimes hides from everyone afterwards just to deal with the sheer hurt of how little help he's ever been offered outside of his home and his dad's garage, and how much he could have thrived if he'd gotten this earlier.

The worst part is talking about Blaine.

Except, he has to, and maybe that's even worse.

So he makes an appointment late on a Friday, arranges for Finn to come pick him up, and then walks in with his back straight and his emotions tucked away as deep as possible.

He tells the whole story of him and Blaine, from that first meeting on the staircase all the way to the police station, with as little detail and emotion as he can get away with. He winces, once, because Ben shifts a little during the part about Scandals, and right, he worked here last year. It's possible, Kurt thinks, that not that long ago it was Blaine sitting in this very chair telling Ben about his circumstances.

When Kurt reaches the end he falls silent. He's a little hoarse, from talking so long, and he feels empty.

Ben's quiet too, at first. He sits there, then gets up to fetch Kurt a bottle of water and waits for him to drink some of it.

“That's...that's a lot you just told me, Kurt. And judging from what I've learned about you I'm guessing this is the first time you've talked about all of it like this?”

True. Kurt's talked, yes, with Finn and Sebastian and even his dad. Before Blaine's disappearance he'd talked to Rachel and Mercedes. But not like this. Not without hiding things, or editing them out. Not with honesty.

“All of this, everything that's happened with Blaine... How does it make you feel?”

“Angry. Pathetic. Weak. Stupid. So, so stupid.”

“Why stupid?”

“Because I trusted him. I've got trust issues from here to forever, and I just trusted him. All I had to go on was that Blaine was cute, and charismatic when performing, that he was willing to listen and seemed sympathetic, and that he was gay just like me. That he'd been bullied, like me. Or so he said.

“And I just took him at his word. Trusted him like a damned sheep. Without a single shred of evidence that he was worth it. I told him things I hadn't even thought about telling my dad – who was worth my trust – and things I didn't have the right to tell him, and for what? So things could get even worse?”

Ben takes a moment again, before asking his next question.

“Do you feel now that Blaine didn't deserve that trust? Not just in the end, but throughout your relationship, I mean.”

Kurt laughs, short and harsh and joyless.

“You know, I dream about it. Not, not about that night – or I do too, but those are, that's not dreams, that's... Anyway, no.

“I dream that it's an ordinary day, and I'm driving over to Blaine's house to surprise him for some reason. I don't know why, since Blaine specifically told me I was never to show up there without warning, and I respected that.”

He'd added two and two and come up with “Mr Anderson is a homophobic prick”, which may or may not be true, and also may or may not be the actual reason.

“Anyway. I drive over there, and I ring the doorbell, and when Mrs Anderson opens the door I ask for Blaine. Only she tells me there's no Blaine living there, there never was. And when I push her on it, she tells me that a boy paid them to pretend to be his family, but she doesn't know why, or where he really lives.”

Kurt swallows.

“And then I wake up, and I can't help but wonder, if I were to do my research, would I find an Anderson family at West Elm Street? And if I did, would the faces match the people I've met?”

“What do you mean?”

“Blaine and I dated for six months, and were friends for another six months before that. And somehow I never got to know his family. I haven't even seen a photo of Blaine's older brother. I've only ever met Mrs Anderson three times, and Mr Anderson twice. If it wasn't for the fact that they were at the police station, specifically as Blaine's parents – which, by the way, is one of those times – I don't know if I'd believe that's who they are. Hell, at my darkest moments I still question it.”

“Do you really believe he would fake something like that?”

Ben's voice doesn't hold mocking, or disbelief, just worry.

“No. Not really. As I said, they went to the police as Blaine's parents. That's not something you risk if it's fake. Besides, Lima's too small to pull something like that off.

“It's more that I find that I was such an unimportant piece of Blaine's life puzzle that I can't even trust something like that.”

They both sit quiet for a while. After all, what is there even to say about thoughts like those?

When Kurt returns to Dalton on Sunday evening Sebastian is leaning against his door, dangling a thermos-flask from one hand. It's both a welcome sight and not, seeing as Kurt had let slip about the nightmares during a check-in the day before. But. It's coffee, and it's Sebastian.

He's halfway through his cup before Sebastian grabs the bull by the horn.

“Do you want to talk about the nightmares?”

No, he most certainly does not. Not those anyway. Still...

“The ones about that night, no. But there are others. Sometimes I have nightmares where I come to school and instead of Blaine being gone, instead of me being called into Miss Pillsbury's office the next day to be met with the news that Blaine's gone... I go to my locker and he's there. And I forgive him. I just...ignore that he tried to rape me, and I forgive him. Even worse, I take the blame.

“And then I wake up shaking, knowing that I could so easily have done just that.”

“Kurt...” His name falls from Sebastian's lips with almost no sound, and it's so clear that the other boy wants to protest.

“No, I really could have. Right from the beginning everyone was so happy to let me know I was lucky to find Blaine, and some made it clear that they didn't think I'd ever be able to do better. Hell, my own experience made me believe that. So why would I have let him walk away? If he was the best I could get, then it was forgive him or spend my life alone.

“Talking to Ben has made me realize exactly how unhealthy that kind of thinking is, and how me folding about something like that would have impacted our entire relationship. He would always have known he could get away with just about anything, and I would never be able to stand up for myself because of the fear of being alone.”

Kurt shudders. Had those dreams been reality then he would never have felt safe denying Blaine sex again. He'd never have felt safe denying Blaine anything. You want that role I need? Of course. You want to move across the country? I'll start packing. You want me to quit my job and be a househusband? Yes dear.

He'd have become a doormat, and he'd have told everyone it was what he wanted while believing it was all he deserved.

Blaine leaving had hurt like hell, but Kurt's beginning to believe it had been a blessing.

“I think I might have dodged a bullet there.”

Sebastian scoffs.

“No shit. That's not a bullet though, that's ammunition for a small war.”

Kurt acknowledges the point. It's a bit of an overstatement, he thinks, but then again he went the other direction.

“Either way, he's out of my life, and he's not getting back in. That's a good thing. The same will be true about the nightmares, sooner or later. No, this isn't me pretending things are fine when they're not, this is me honestly believing it'll be fine. Talking to Ben helps.

“Having you helps.”

He watches amused as Sebastian blushes softly at the compliment while trying to play cocky. He likes it when Sebastian's facade breaks down. In fact, he might just have made it his mission to make it happen as often as possible.

“So, do you have any plans for the rest of the evening? Lacrosse equipment to clean? Lingering homework? No? What about that essay for Mme Lacroix?”

The panic in Sebastian's face as he jumps up is delicious.

“What essay? When did she– Oh, I see. Not funny, Hummel.”

“From where I'm sitting? Definitely funny, Smythe. But if there's nothing else you need to do, would you like to watch a movie with me? I've got some chocolate I don't mind sharing, and I'll even let you pick the movie.”

Sebastian looks at him suspiciously, searching for the next joke. Then he apparently decides that Kurt is serious.

“I could do that. Careful though, that almost sounded like you asking for a date.”

“Who said I wasn't?” Total deer in headlights look. “Would it be so bad? I like you. I think we are good together. I believe we could be even better. I trust you. Giving this, giving us, a chance feels smart. It feels right.”

Sebastian keeps staring at him, and Kurt feels himself begin to fidget a little, suddenly uncomfortable. Did he read the situation wrong? Then, finally, Sebastian speaks, voice a little raspy.

“Oh god. I thought you... Can I kiss you?”

There's a desperation in the words, but Kurt can't fault him for it. He feels it too. So he nods, and takes a step towards Sebastian. He's expecting... Well, he doesn't know what he's expecting. More of the desperation maybe? Expertise? Seduction? He definitely wasn't expecting careful softness, and constant checks for consent, but that's what he gets.

Then again, maybe that's exactly what he should have expected from Sebastian, who's been with him the whole way, who knows everything, and has shown himself to care in a way Kurt's not entirely used to to.

It's a Sebastian without masks and attitudes, meeting a Kurt without the same, and it's everything he could have wished for.

He's got no memory of what movie they finally play.

#chocoholic fics #kurt fic #kurt hummel #a wild sebastian appears #sebastian smythe #in 2020 we finish our wips #kbweek2020

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evilmortys · 4 years

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“Well, it’s great to have you back here in our chambers again. And by that, we of course mean that it’s literally the worst to have you back here in our chambers, C-136.” There’s a definite familiarity in the way Riq IV utters his indicative numerals that rings almost personal, but understandably, there’s little fondness behind his severe greeting. Jesus Christ, he thinks to himself sourly, this fucking Morty again. “You know how this goes, so let’s get right to it. State your name and dimension number for the record, turd.”

“Yeah, well, here’s somethin’ for the record: I’m not- I’m actually not too jazzed about it myself, y’know? Every time I get hauled here, I gotta- I gotta look you guys in the faces for like, an hour. And they’re really ugly ones.” Morty rebukes, arms folded over his chest defensively. His insides quiver like jelly. Deep down, he’s actually really not so good with this confrontation stuff, believe it or not. What Morty is? Still, he can’t half pretend to be unflinching when a situation calls for it. Nerves sufficiently steeled and outward appearance nothing short of done with this shit, he obliges the demand. “Mortimer Smith, Earth Dimension C-136. No additional numerals applicable.”

“Watch it.” Another council member snaps suddenly, already infuriated by the blatant lack of respect, and Morty’s gaze drifts to the secondary speaker. Hazel eyes rest upon the decrepit figure boredly, and he inwardly debates whether it’d be worth it to point out he doesn’t even know the name of any of these other assholes- that’s- that’s about how relevant their input is to him right now. Probably shouldn’t, he concedes grudgingly. Don’t bite the bullet when it comes to spitting snark, y’know? Employing restraint now leaves wiggle room to get away with saying more once this discussion inevitably goes to shit. He looks back to their spokesperson wordlessly, gaze expectant.

“Yes, Rick Prime, you’re absolutely right. He says what we’re all thinking! Now... let me see what you’ve gotten up to this time, C-136. While I’m reading the report over, why don’t you go ahead and tell me: who the fuck do you think you are? And why do you think you can get away with this shit? We’d all love to hear it.” Riq IV gathers up the loose-leaf before him and taps the papers against the imperial desk he sits behind, neatening the stack before beginning to look them over.

“I don’t think I’m anyone- anyone... look, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Morty protests defensively. “There’s nothing I’d even be getting away with! That’s- whatever’s written there, it won’t- it’ll all be a bunch of bullshit!”

“Really? Because let me tell you, this is all lining up very well with what we’ve come to expect of your character.” Riq IV heaves a world weary sigh, bracing himself for what’s to come (this particular turd, and the circumstance of his Rick being such a generous contributor, always makes everything so difficult), and passes the report along for the other council members to peruse. Can’t effectively threaten this one, really. But like hell he won’t try. “Here’s our working theory, turd. You believe that you’re special, and brave, or some shit, and- and you think that because your Rick happens to donate to us often that we have to tolerate this kind of shit from you and take it on the chin. That your actions here don’t have consequence. Am I in the ballpark, C-136?”

“Not even close!”

“Then do you want to tell us what the fuck happened?! Do you want to, oh, I don’t know--- clue the council in on why you saw fit to push a Rick to the ground, stamp repeatedly on his ballsack, and punch him in the face until... he- cried---? Jesus Christ, in- in hindsight- this geezer’s not reflecting on us well. How does this even happen? He got fucked up by a Morty? I mean, at that point, you pretty much deserve whatever happens, right? What the fuck was I even reading there, y’know?”

Riq IV isn’t quite addressing C-136 come the end of that impassioned order for an explanation, and is instead glancing at the other members incredulously, brow knitted indignantly. The other four Ricks murmur heatedly in irritable agreement, though they’re keen to point out Mortys should never possess the balls to lash out at a Rick violently regardless. With a nod of his head, the spokesman looks down upon the yellow-shirted bastard beneath him, and snaps, “Whenever you’re ready, C-136. Take your time! I know you think this Citadel bows to your goddamn whims either way. Go ahead and phone a fucking friend- why not? You’re- you’re a little monster.”

“Oh, I’m ready, you stupid haircut having- you’re a- dumb ass motherfucker,” Morty spits vehemently, gritting his teeth, before catching himself. His gaze briefly averts, as if in wordless apology for his blunt outburst. He draws himself up slightly, gesticulating with his hands as he attempts to get across his reasoning. “Look, I know it sounds bad. It was bad! It was! I know. But that Rick, he- he was, he was pushing this Morty around, being such a dick, making fun of him, and- there was... he didn’t even have a reason! That Morty was mute, y’know? He’d- he’d had his tongue cut out, or- or maybe ripped out by some sorta alien... I don’t know. He was making this awful gurgling noise, he was frightened, and- what, was I just supposed t- to walk on by? Pretend I couldn’t see that happening?!”

“That’s exactly what you were supposed to do.” Riq IV says pointedly, as if affronted he has to clarify the obvious at all. “We can only assume that Morty was behaving in a way to make him deserve that, just as you should have assumed, turd. Besides, I’ll have you know that tongueless Mortys are in, uh- pretty high demand, for the more morally ambiguous Ricks. In fact, I’m pretty sure we offer services for a humane snip of the tongue. We do that, guys, right? ... Maybe it’s more of a black market thing? Yes. It’s- it’s just an adjustment that can be made to you little bastards, for a price, much like implanting chips into your spines and weaponizing you for efficiency. And let me tell you something: it’s one that I plan to recommend to your grandfather if you continue to push your luck. Our tolerance only goes so far, no matter how much of an asset Rick C-136 is to the development of our Citadel. We won’t exactly crumble without him.”

“Fuck you! Wh- what the fuck is WRONG with you?! Y- you wanna know something?! You wanna know what I think?! Don’t answer: I- I know you don’t, but fuck you, and listen up anyway! Every single one of you BASTARDS are DEFINITELY gonna die with each other’s dicks in your throat from how much you suck each other off! How can you sit up there, and say shit like that, and- and not hear how fucking awful you all sound?!”

His gesturing hands have long since returned to his sides, and his arms are tensed where they rest- C-136 is acutely aware of the fact that he’s trembling, shaking with anger that has never felt more well founded. Despite himself, he curls his fingers and balls them into fists, as if- as if he could swing for those smug motherfuckers up there from all the way down here. Morty has to jut his chin just to regard them with all this fury, and there’s nothing to goddamn do with it- his breathing quivers from his lungs tensely, and there’s a challenging look crystal clear in his blazing eyes. Can’t do anything about it, the reminder bangs in his brain. The Guard Ricks posted all around don’t even motion to grip their guns tighter, because they fucking know it, and the council fucking knows it, and they know he’s painfully aware of it, too.

Their broad, shit-eating grins say it all--- at least, they do, until Ricktiminus Sancheziminius sees fit to glance upward briefly by chance, and winds up visibly starting, and fixing his gaze on something else entirely. Somebody else. Somebody other than the spectacle of that notoriously difficult Morty having an outburst. Ricktiminus Sancheziminius nudges Riq IV sharply in the side, and upon gaining the other’s attention and irritable acknowledgement, indicates the new arrival to the spokesman. He soon sobers, flashing the figure at the entrance to their chambers a bemused look- and the others are quick to follow his lead. Morty’s brows knit, and he glances over his shoulder- heart sinking---no, outright dropping---deeply into his stomach the very instant he’s processed it.

Fuck.

“Ah, your keeper’s here, C-136. Rick Sanchez, earth dimension C-136! We presume our message reached you in a timely manner... and yet, enough time has passed for your grandson to spit vulgarities at us for quite a while. I certainly hope we didn’t pull you away from anything important...” Riq IV smiles strangely, almost as if simpering. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and there is something deeply false to the curve of his mouth. Belching, he waves a careless hand, as if to dismiss his own backhanded, apologetic sentiment before the other can even respond to it. “... Though it begs the question of what could be more important than the Citadel. We both have this society’s best interests at heart, after all.”

“Yeah, y-eeeuurgh-eah, what-the-fuck-ever.” Rick replies, sweeping into the chambers and standing at Morty’s side, flashing him a deeply vexed look. He probably heard that whole last part, and out of context, it doesn’t really reflect well on the flicker of patience he's been trying to maintain all the while. “I was balls deep in the concept of time when you motherfuckers called me, so ex-cuse me if I’m not particularly chirpy about being called over this time around. He- he better have at least killed someone, is what I’m saying. I was getting action. Literally fucking with time. I- I don’t wanna fucking be here for anything less.”

Morty’s mouth falls open as he hastens to try and explain himself, ready to trip over his own spluttering words until Rick comes to understand that he was just trying to help- before he realizes, dully, that it won’t even matter. Huffing, the teenager simply looks askance, knowing full well Rick won’t take his side on this. Almost can’t take his side on this. Though it’s not like the other ever strives to have his back anyway.

This train of thought is a bitter one, and it rattles through his head so loudly, all the biting reminders that he’s in a room full of people who don’t give a shit what he has to say in the slightest, that he briefly tunes out from the exchange between the council and his disapproving grandfather. Their words are little more than buzzing in his ears, but he doesn’t miss much. They’re just filling his companion in on what shit trick he’s pulled this visit. A sharp flick against the side of his head soon bumps him back to reality, and a deep scowl curls the sixteen year old’s lip as he rubs it, fighting the innate urge to bitch. Rick scoffs at him, before turning his attention back to the six alternates perched up there.

“See that? Not even listening. Look, this time last year, Morty was all over the Citadel, just like I am. Nobody’s saying anything about taking issue with this place. Nothing but support in the C-136 household. He’s just going through a little phase, in case you can’t tell. You ever had a sixteen year old Morty? Nightmare. Rebellion, he’s all- all stick it to the Ricks, y’know? He’s just being a c-eeeuurgh-ontrary little shit. Christ, the whole reason he’s here is to pick some crap up that I ordered- did you even fucking get around to grabbing that, Morty? Before you started swinging for Ricks?”

“Yeah. I got it.” Morty says shortly. “Laruxion ore.”

He finds himself physically biting down on his tongue, as if to chastise it prematurely as it twitches to run away with him about what a nightmare even just grabbing Rick’s shit was, too. The shopkeeper glared down at him, and asked a few dozen hostile questions about what a Morty was doing picking up something so volatile, so potentially dangerous, for his Rick. If it were up to me, he’d declared, unwillingly bagging the package up all the same, you wouldn’t be running around with something like this. Taking it to your Rick or otherwise. Guy can’t pick up his own shit?

“Aw, jeez. Well,” Morty had shot back, unable to help himself, “don’t you all think we’re too stupid to do anything smart anyway? Either you think Mortys are capable of falling the entire Citadel with this ore, and you won’t fork that shit over to me because of that, or you think we’re dumbass, i- incapable, um, y’know- sidekicks. In which case, there’s- there’s no harm in handing it over to me. Right? Just saying, y’know. Y- you guys should pick a lane. Aw, jeez.”

Suffice to say, Shopkeeper Rick was not impressed with his take on the matter, and all but threw the bag across the counter into Morty’s fumbling hands, before angrily shooing him off.

“Might as well have done it myself. Can’t even run an errand without getting stirred up in shit. Look, council,” Rick grouses, pinching the bridge of his nose in a show of utter annoyance, “Let’s just call this square. We all fucking paid for his shit trick today, right? I got blue balls, you had to, uh... rightfully bitch at him, waste your... precious time on a dumbass Morty. And he’s gonna get a fucking earful. I’d- I’d say it won’t happen again, but, Christ- is- was he even entirely in the wrong? If a Rick can get taken out by a Morty, he’s not exactly a valuable member of this society. The society I funnel a lot of fucking cash into on a monthly basis, might I add. G- g-eeeUURGH-etting pretty sick of the same old bitchfest about every toe my moron puts over the line when he’s here. Do you guys do this for every Morty that acts out? I’m just sp-eeEUURGH-itballing over here, but- I kind of thought I was donating to people that had slightly better shit to do than pull my Morty up for being a little- a little angsty, or whatever the fuck, right now.”

“... We do this for Mortys that repeatedly cause issues within our citadel. Which yours does to the point of notoriety, C-136. If you’d only rein in your Morty, this wouldn’t be an issue to begin with---”

“Oh, my God- shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck UP---”

“Morty, YOU shut the fuck up. Sorry for him, as usual. Are we done here?”

“... Of course. We, uh, we’d like to reiterate our gratitude for your contributions to maintaining the-”

“Yeah, yeah, leave me another f-eeEUrrrgh-ucking voicemail about it. Come on, Morty. Y- you’re gonna- I’m gonna fucking kill you when we’re outta here,” Rick chastises, and reaches out to grip his forearm and pull him along as he paces away from his six alternates, muttering darkly under his breath all the while. Visibly nettled by the threat, the sixteen year old bitches top note and makes several efforts to wrench his arm free- and easily manages it once they’re back in the sea of alternates that is the main hub of this hellhole as Rick reluctantly eases his hold.

“Don’t grab me! And- and y’know what, don’t bust my balls about this, either. Would it kill you to be on my side? Like, ever? Wh- why would I beat on anyone for no goddamn reason, Rick?!” Morty explodes, and his grandfather rakes a hand through his tufts of blue hair and glares.

“You know exactly why, Morty. Besides. I’m not exactly in the business of backing you up- not sure if you’ve noticed. Because you’re never actually in the right. You’re just taking everything to heart and poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, as usual. Got that?”

There’s a certain bitterness behind his words. How the hell do you think it’s going to reflect on me if they know I’ve never been able to put a lid on your shit, Morty? Rick sets off walking, and for a moment, Morty hangs back- hesitating to follow, eyes narrowed fiercely at the other’s retreating back... before he groans, and hastens to scramble through the thick crowds and catch up, demanding an explanation all the while.

“Why do you even put up with their crap, Rick? I- I don’t get it. You’re throwing money at a bunch of dicks, t- to support something you don’t even- to support the fucking Shitadel?” Morty gesticulates wildly, hazel eyes narrowed and gaze intent as he regards his older relative, forearms raised and fingers splayed out in a demonstration of utter bewilderment. “I’m just trying to understand why- why the fuck you would do that! Y’know? Y- you don’t even like this fucking hellhole! The people who live here don’t even like it! I just, I- I don’t---”

Rick’s shoulders slump under this bout of badgering, and, if only to quieten the idiot down, he caves. Lowers his voice and mutters quietly, so as not to be listened in on by anyone around them.

“You don’t g-eeURRGH-et it? Yeah, I heard you the first time. Look, M-Bomb, if I know those assholes---and I am those assholes---being, y’know, blatant about hating their fucking guts isn’t the way to go. If I say what I think, tell ‘em to suck my balls and shove their society up their ass, how- how exactly do you see that playing out for me?”

Rick pauses, as if awaiting an answer. Bewildered, the teenager beside him blinks a tad owlishly, and at long last, opens his mouth in preparation to fumble for some sort of answer. The very moment he begins to speak out uncertainly, his grandfather purposefully presses on with his point, much to the boy’s visible aggravation.

“I’ll tell you how it’s gonna play out for me. I- I know it’s a little beyond your, uh, limited understanding, Morty. They’re gonna scout for a new paypig, come in the night, haul us outta home, take my portal gun, and make me a fucking janitor, Morty. Meanwhile your dumb ass is gonna- you’ll end up in that shitty Morty School, taking classes on how to bark great idea, grandpa, like- like some mindless little moron who can’t think for himself. They’d parade you around as an example of how well they break you little bastards down into yes-man sidekicks, since you’re such a stubborn piece of shit. And that’d be if y-eeEUrgh-ou’re lucky, by the way.”

“... Ha. Yeah, well, don’t- don’t talk like you wouldn’t like that. The last part, I mean.” He snorts, and a brief flicker of amusement brightens his companion’s resigned expression. Rolling his eyes, Rick rolls his shoulders into a shrug as they walk, moving through the sea of yellow-shirted teenagers and lab-coated fossils.

“Only if you don’t talk like you wouldn’t get a fucking kick out of seeing me scrub a toilet,” he snipes, and they exchange a glance.

There’s a brief, strange moment wherein something shifts between them- all the unspoken anger, the seething temper, the typical wariness that clings to the air that hangs between them seems to all but ebb away.

Morty cracks first. The corners of his mouth twitch upward slightly, a fit of snickers rises in his throat... and the second Rick clocks that he’s going to burst out laughing, he cracks up, too. They laugh, and they laugh, and just when it seems that they’re going to calm back down, they catch each other’s eye and lose it all over again. The other Ricks and Mortys waiting in line for a return portal to their dimension cast them strange looks as they all but giggle feebly beside each other, adamantly refusing to meet each other’s gaze in a fervent effort to recover, now; letting things lapse back into their norm.

All good things eventually draw to a close, and sure enough, this temporary, shared moment of reciprocal sentiment is one of them. The teenager can’t help but push it, however. Let it last just a minute longer. I won’t hate you again, just for a fraction more time. Don’t hate me again, just for a bit longer. While Rick moves to procure his silvery flask from his pocket, amused grin easing in the corners as his expression becomes idly impatient once more, Morty inhales, picking at a loose thread on his sweater if only to busy himself with something, too.

“Hey, Rick?” His tentative broach at conversation is met with a grunt while the old man slugs back his potent alcohol supply. Casting his grandfather a tentative smile, he fidgets with his fingers. “... Thanks. And- sorry. I- I know you hate, y’know, this whole- paying off this shithole, so we don’t wind up here, and stuff. And seeing those motherfuckers, and their stupid haircuts, more than you have to.”

... The sentiment doesn’t quite have the effect he wanted. Rick doesn’t smile back, once he’s finished downing the last drops from his flask. His brow narrows as he shoves it back into the pocket of his lab coat, and he shakes his head dismissively, refusing to take the attempt to uphold their good mood at face value. Disdain creeps right back into his tone- that distaste and disapproval over Morty’s every choice today rearing it’s ugly head with a vengeance, it seems.

“Yeah. I do. So I guess you owe me b-eeUURGH-ig time, Morty.”

He returns simply, and Morty’s heart sinks upon registering the snippy edge to Rick’s tone... before he soon finds himself frowning deeply, annoyed with himself for even trying; consumed with that aching anger once again. There’s a certain, undeniable comfort to be found in how familiar the feeling is. Losing the moment of enjoying one another’s companionship, of things being how they were some two years ago again, stings. Undoubtedly. But it’s better not to dwell on them.

Part of him always wonders if it’s his fault they are the way they are. Keeping each other at arm’s length. Essentially communicating through picking fights over nothing, and bickering over absolute bullshit, with terribly occasional, painfully rare warm moments interspersed amidst all of their resentment. If he were only more wide-eyed and naive, Rick wouldn’t be like this with him. Right? Rick thinks that Morty doesn’t know precisely what his fucking problem is, but it doesn’t exactly take a genius to decipher why he’s so harsh with him most days. Read between the lines of his grandfather’s unspoken resentment.

No. It takes a smart, capable Morty, unafraid to call him or anyone, really, on bullshit, and injustice. And he never wanted that. What sort of Rick fucking does? The entire point of a Morty is to stand beside you, go along with whatever you say despite their own rightful apprehensions, to freak out and struggle and be impressed, awed, and horrified by the shit you pull. They’re sidekicks, but they’re never supposed to be all that competent. That’s the role of the Rick, after all. C-136 was fearful and clueless when they adventured in his youth, sure. There was a time. But he outgrew it far too fast, picked up on things far too quickly, keen for approval he didn’t want to give purely because of how actually deserved it was. Jesus, even as a kid, he was perceptive. Intrusively so. Full of cutting observations--- with alarmingly poignant outbursts over how Rick conducted himself, dripping with disdain for his behaviour, being plentiful from the tender age of eight.

Rick speaks.

“... Quit pulling this shit.”

Morty snaps.

“Quit being shit, Rick.”

They fix one another with a long, lingering look. It feels like a game of chicken- daring the figure across from them to be the one to break the prolonged staredown they’re locked into... and in turn, out himself as the coward ultimately too afraid to face up to the other. It ends in a perfect draw; grandfather and grandson tear their gazes away at the same moment, scoffing over how stupid it was at all, deliberately shuffling to sit a few more inches apart from one another.

Distance from it, the duo both decide sullenly. Never as different from one another as they like to insist, unbeknown to the two of them. All you can do. He can’t be told.

Rick and Morty, Earth Dimension C-136, await their assigned portal back home in silence; the balance restored in their uncaring world, and dynamic decidedly chilly once more.

#rick and morty #morty smith #rick sanchez #alex writes!#long post cw #HMMM. I DON'T. LIKE THIS. BUT I LIKE PARTS OF IT SO I'LL POST IT #please stamp on my head this literally SUCKS AND I ACTUALLY TRIED FJHDSJFHGDSHJG FUCKKK #I REFUSE TO NOT POST IT BECAUSE IT TOOK EMBARRASSINGLY LONG BUT. I WISH IT WAS BETTER.#i'll sleep and look at it again tomorrow and if it makes me cringe i'll slam that delete #c136!

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softbiker · 4 years

Text

Born to Run - Chapter 16

Warnings: cursing, angst (sorry not sorry)

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: And we’re back - buckle up, folks. Things are starting to get rough around here. I apologize in advance for this. But thank you for continuing to read and follow this series! Only a few more chapters left...but we’ll see how long that takes me lol. As always, let me know what you think!

He had seen her text about being late for dinner, shooting back that he didn’t mind, that they’d be doing some work at the club this afternoon anyway. That part was mostly true - he was already on his way to the clubhouse to tell Steve Rogers to calm the fuck down. As an afterthought, he’d tacked on the little kiss face emoji, restraining himself from typing out the three words he’d like to say instead. She responded with a thumbs up.

And then - radio silence.

Bucky tried to be cool about it, be the chill boyfriend; Y/N had a full time job, quite a demanding one, and he understood that. Hell, he was damn proud of it, of her and her brains and all her hard work. Smart, beautiful, and making her own way in the world. She may not have been the biker type, but she was certainly a badass.

And she wasn’t texting him back.

Typically, they were in touch throughout the day - she told him about her patients, and he’d sympathize, let her complain. He told her what he was up to at the club - so far as he could - or sent her stupid pictures from the internet to make her laugh. They were never too clingy, neither of them wanted to be that couple, but there were never more than a few hours without some type of correspondence. He loved that about them - how they always wanted to talk about everything and nothing.

He refreshed his messages again, thumb scrolling upwards through the string of unanswered texts from his end, a knot of worry tightening in his stomach as he noticed the little read receipts at the bottom.

What the hell did you do, Barnes?

**********

Y/N massaged her temples, holding her face in her hands. Across from her, Natasha was silent. The muted hiss of the oxygen machine and the steady pulse of the heart monitor were the only noises in the room; they weren’t loud enough to drown out the alarming scream of her thoughts.

And just this morning, just a few hours ago, she thought she loved him. A liar. A stranger.

“An FBI agent?” she repeated, less a question than an incredulous echo of the words she didn’t want to believe. They bounced around her brain until the syllables collapsed, meaningless and hollow.

“So all of you are…undercover? With the FBI?” Y/N finally looked up at Natasha, whose cold green gaze was cracked with something like pity. Nat nodded, pursing her lips.

“I’m CIA, actually,” she amended, swirling her long-cold coffee cup in her hands. “So is Barton. Little bit of a difference.”

Y/N glared sharply at her, eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, it makes a huge difference which intelligence organization you’ve all been lying to me about.” She could hear her voice rising, the sharpened steel edge of her words. Palms flat on her knees, she sucked in a deep breath, counted 10, tried to calm her mind.

When she first came here, sparse belongings shoved into the trunk of her car, standing in the driveway of an empty home in a lonely town, she had had nothing. No one. She left it all behind for the sake of her future, finding a way for herself. Alone, unsure, afraid she was making a terrible mistake. And in spite of that she pushed forward, committed to keeping her head down and serving out her time until she was free to go back to her life. Her real life.

And then…Bucky happened.

A swirling sense of vertigo sent her mind reeling. How had she let this go so far? How had she fallen in so deep with a man she clearly didn’t know? Who was this girl, this version of herself who leapt without looking and left motorcycle tracks in her wake?

Small and quiet, nearly drowned out by the rushing of her own blood, a voice in the back of her mind whispered:

A girl in love.

No. No. She couldn’t - didn’t - love him. Because he wasn’t real, only a mirage, an idea. A simple illusion she had stupidly fallen for.

A tissue appeared in front of her face, offered in Nat’s nail-bitten fingers. As she reached for it reflexively, YN realized she was crying.

“I know this must be hard for you,” Natasha ventured, bloodshot eyes cautiously following the path of the tissue across Y/N’s face - one eye, then the other, then her sniffling nose. “You and Barnes have something really special -”

“No.” Y/N cut her off. Her lips pressed into a firm line to keep from trembling. The poor tissue was crushed to a ball between her hands. She swallowed harshly, throat aching, before speaking again.

“No,” she sighed, a little calmer; in her mind, a vault door clanged shut over her heart. She imagined herself spinning the spoke handle, the lock mechanisms tumbling into place with cold precision, sealing her in. “We’re not that serious.”

Nat raised a skeptical red brow. She’d barely seen Bucky at the clubhouse in the last month; he was all but moved in to Y/N’s place. They’d come to family dinners with the Avengers, and then go home together - home. They both called it that.

“Still,” Nat went on, treading lightly as she could. “This is a lot to process - but we’re still here for you. I’ve already made some calls. We can find a new residency position for you, an apartment somewhere-”

Y/N was already shaking her head.

“Keep it. All of it.” She stood from her chair, tossing the wrung-out tissue into the waste bin beside her. Chin lifted, she stared down at Natasha where she still sat, bewildered and bleary-eyed. “I don’t want your help, your money, your connections - I don’t want any of it. I’m done.” With the back of one hand, she wiped away the last of her tears. “I want nothing to do with the Avengers - or whoever the hell you are.”

Pursing her lips, Natasha nodded. She looked paler and more tired than ever; the cuticles of her thumbs were picked raw and close to bleeding.

“If that’s the way you want it.” She folded her hands together in her lap. The white bones of her knuckles appeared delicate and small beneath the skin. “Good luck, Y/N. I really mean that.”

Y/N nodded at the prone figure in the bed, motionless and silent, eking out life with each drip of his IV.

“Looks like you need it more than I do.”

When she was gone, Natasha stared at the empty doorway for a long time, barely blinking. A nurse walked by, glancing in for a moment before turning sharply away from her thousand yard stare. Shifting in her chair, she reached over and rested a hand on top of Nick’s, both their fingers cold and dry, soft breaths the only noise between them.

**********

“Buck. Listen to me - we don’t have any more time.” Steve crossed his arms over his broad chest, sympathetic but firm. “If you really care about Y/N, you’ll help us pull out of this op. It’s the only way to keep her safe.”

Bucky rounded on him, a mutinous fury in his eyes.

“Her safety is the only thing I care about,” he said, clenching his teeth. “Why do you think I’ve kept her out of all this? I haven’t told her a damn thing - and now I’m supposed to expect her to just uproot her entire life? How exactly do I explain that, Steve? Huh?” He raised both brows in a dare, a push against Steve’s immovable self-righteousness. Steve didn’t budge.

“How about you try telling the truth?” He dared right back, not one to back down from a game of chicken.

Bucky’s heart clenched, a mixture of defensive anger and guilt and fear swirling in his gut at the thought. It was the simplest and hardest thing he could do now. Tell the truth. His lies weren’t without good reason, but they were still lies. And what if she couldn’t forgive them? His throat felt thick and dry as he tried to swallow.

“I can’t lose her, Steve,” he whispered, voice scraping. “I…I can’t.” Bucky leaned back on the work bench behind him, gripping the edges of the table with tight fingers. He stared down at his feet. “I don’t even know what I’m doing’ this for anymore.”

Steve’s arms feel to his sides as he looked at Bucky, soft blue gaze filled with an aching sympathy. Their jobs - both before, when they were deployed, and now, back home but still in the field - had crowded out any room, any hope, for a normal life. Marriage. A home. Children. Things they didn’t think to want when they were young and signed their lives on a dotted line. They hadn’t known what they were giving up.

Steve shuffled over a few steps and eased onto the bench next to Bucky, the table groaning in protest at their combined weight.

“It’s really that serious with you two, huh,” he mused, knocking Bucky’s elbow with his own. “Never seen you so caught up on one girl before, Buck.”

Snorting, Bucky looked around the garage, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well.” He toed one of his boots against the scuffed concrete floor. “This is different - she’s different. Jesus, Steve, I-I think…” he sucked in a fortifying breath. “I think I love her.”

Steve’s brows shot up. He’d never heard Bucky say those words. He’d had his fair share of girls - Bucky was never hard up for dates, not even as a gangly teenager; his pretty eyes and charming smile and half-quoted poetry books helped him out with that. Steve was the more serious of the two, talking about “the right one” and looking for love. Bucky just liked to have fun. Of the two of them, Steve never imagined that Bucky would be the one wanting to settle down first.

“Wow,” Steve breathed. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well, hey, Buck that’s…that’s great.” He clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m really happy for you, pal.”

Bucky looked up with a hopeful smile, meeting Steve’s eyes with a bashful look. Bucky Barnes. Bashful. Steve had really seen it all.

“Thanks, Steve.” Bucky ducked his head back down. One of his hands reached absently to tuck his hair behind his ears. “I’ve…never felt like this before - about anyone.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Steve grinned.

Bucky’s shoulders dropped and he sighed deeply.

“I just don’t wanna mess this up with her, you know?”

“Then maybe it’s time for the truth,” Steve said softly, staring at Bucky’s profile. “The longer you wait…”

“I know,” Bucky sighed again.

“So what are you waiting for?” Steve shook his shoulder again, offering an encouraging smile. “Go see about your girl, you idiot.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky shook off Steve’s hand, rising from the work bench. His bike was waiting for him across the garage, the sleek chrome glinting in a beam of afternoon sun. He snatched his jacket from where it hung on a hook by the door and shrugged his shoulders into it, reaching to the pocket for his keys.

“I’ll catch you later, Steve,” he nodded. Glancing back over his shoulder, he licked his lower lip. “Wish me luck?”

“You won’t need it - not if she’s the right one.”

“Yeah, yeah, there you go with that shit again,” Bucky waved him off, swinging a leg over the bike and starting the engine. He tried to tell himself that it was the rumbling of his bike that set his stomach fluttering. He wished Steve would have told him good luck.

**********

She had a duffel bag sitting by the door, socks and boxers that wouldn’t quite fit bursting from the top. Her heart stumbled and then picked up again at a breakneck pace when she heard the grumbling of his bike outside, the rattle of his keys in the front door.

“Baby?” He called as he poked his head in. “I thought you were gonna be home late?”

There was a long pause, a chasm of silence she couldn’t begin to cross. She knew he could see her in the kitchen, her back turned, hands gripping the edges of the sink. Her chest felt tight and she realized she was holding her breath.

Bucky felt his palms grow clammy again, and he flexed his hands, cracking the knuckles of each one alternately. Looking down, he saw the duffel bag by the door, a lonely sock hanging from its open mouth.

When he was 12, Bucky had finally convinced his mom to let him go to a local amusement park with his friends. Coasting on his sugary soda high and sticky-fingered from cotton candy, he and his buddies had sworn to ride every last ride - even the Devil Drop. An impressive 250-foot installation that attracted thrill seekers all year round, the ride lifted him up, up, up - until he was certain he could make out the roof of his house in the distance. And then, with ruthless ambivalence, the ride dropped their carriage. Stomach plummeting, legs glued to the seat, he’d screamed and gripped the bars of his harness and screwed his eyes shut, waiting for it all to be over. When he clambered down from the ride, his knees shook, and he felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck just before he threw up in the bushes. He’d never gone on a ride like that again.

But he remembered this feeling.

“Y/N.” His feet were heavy and slow as he moved towards the kitchen, as though he were wading through water. “What is this?” She glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to the sink, refusing to look at him. Tongue heavy in his mouth, he tried to swallow. “Baby, you’re scarin’ me. What’s going on?”

One hand pressed against her heart, she took a deep breath. Then two.

“It’s over.” She set her shoulders and finally turned to face him, her eyes dry but red-rimmed. “We’re done.” With a nod, she gestured to the lonely bag by her front door. “I’ve packed up your things already, and I want you gone - tonight.”

His mouth fell open in shock.

“What- no. No! Honey, what are you talking about? Please, just talk to me - I don’t understand-” he begged, taking another step towards her. She flinched back, pressing herself against the sink.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m upset about-”

“But I don’t!” His eyes were wide, pleading, and he fought to lower his voice. “Will you just tell me what’s wrong?”

Something in it, that innocent, loving look in his eyes, made her snap. A hidden angry part of her, all teeth and bloodlust, began to roar.

“What’s wrong is that I don’t know who the hell you are!” He’d never heard her raise her voice before, and it frightened him, stopped him cold in his pursuit. It gratified her, the way he paled and took a step back. “What’s wrong is that you’ve been lying to me from the moment I met you! I mean - what the fuck was I supposed to think when I found out that my boyfriend’s identity is just a character he invented cause he’s undercover with the goddamned FBI?”

Bucky’s mouth had gone dry and he tasted bile in his throat. The furious heat of her gaze was too intense and he looked down at the scuffed toes of his boots, unable to meet it.

“How did you find out?” he asked a moment later, still staring at the floor.

“Natasha.” Y/N folded her arms. “I ran into her at the hospital.” Reaching for her coffee cup on the counter, she took a small sip, grimacing when she realized it had gone cold. “You might want to go visit your friend, by the way. He’s in pretty bad shape.”

Shaking fingers raked his hair back from his face as Bucky’s mind raced, trying to think of what to say.

“I…I know you must be angry,” he started - judging from the look on her face, it was a gross understatement. “But I hid this from you to keep you safe. Please believe me, I would never lie to you-”

She laughed, harsh and sad, and shook her head.

“That is unbelievable coming from you - all you’ve done is lie to me since we met!”

“It’s my job, Y/N,” he said, jaw clenched.

“Exactly! And I don’t want any part of it!” Her lower lip trembled, but she forged ahead. “Coverups and secrets and lies…that’s not what I want. I can’t build my life around that.”

And there it was - the real challenge, the question she wouldn’t ask, the question he had been afraid to answer.

“You don’t have to.” His voice came out quiet and hoarse. “I’m quitting.”

A beat. He’d caught her off guard, and he watched as she quickly reassembled her defenses.

“What do you mean?”

Cautiously, he took a step forward; when she didn’t back away, he held her gaze and took the plunge.

“I mean I’m leaving the FBI after this,” he said. “It’s not what I want anymore, either. I…” a deep breath, steeling his nerves. “I want you. I want a future - Y/N, I’m in love with you.” He heard her breath catch, and he closed the last few feet between them to grip her hands in his own. He wanted to say it again, just to taste the sweetness of the words. “I love you, sweetheart. So, wherever you wanna go, let’s go. Let’s get outta here, baby, let’s run and not look back. It doesn’t make a difference to me; all I’ve gotta do is finish this job and then I’m out. I’m all yours - I promise.”

In her head, she could see it, a supercut of daydreams and hopes - the two of them moving furniture into a cramped apartment in the city, adopting a dog and lining the window sill with tiny succulents. A white dress. A pair of rings.

Closing her eyes, she gathered each thought, snatching each one by the wings as it flew by, and placed them all in her vault. She let the door swing shut, hearing the heavy bolt slide home.

Calmly, firmly, she pulled her hands from his grip.

When she opened her eyes again, it was like meeting a stranger - she was standing right in front of him but he’d never felt so far away. His fingers grasped at empty air and his throat closed up. He wanted to get on his knees, beg her not to say the part that came next.

“It’s too late for that, Bucky.” She took a step away, out of his reach. He didn’t try to follow. “I’m sorry, but…” she shook her head. “I just can’t forgive this. I’m-I’m really sorry.” Lifting her chin, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself, took one more step backwards. Bucky felt cold all the way down to his boots. There was no mercy in her gaze - no hatred, either. She had shed her tears, and would give him no more.

“Goodbye, Bucky.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader fic #bucky x reader imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #biker!bucky fic #biker!bucky au #avengers fic #born to run

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ambivalent-anarchy · 4 years

Text

Star Wars 101 (Ch. 2) Episode IV - A New Hope

Masterlist

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Wow, I didn't realize how much I'd written until I hit the tumblr limit. Hope you like it! Comment your thoughts!

Chapter Summary: Steve just wants to do his job, the avengers are the best wingmen, Scott doesn't like porn, and [y/n] thinks all nerds are freaky

~~~

sci-fi boi: okay which cartoon rivalry was better?? Popeye the sailor man and Bluto or Tom and Jerry?

crackhead [y/n]: dude.

crackhead [y/n]: how is that even a question??? Obviously Tom and Jerry lol

sci-fi boi: explanation pls

crackhead [y/n]: popeye and bluto were always fighting over that girl olive and some other stupid crap but with my two furry buddies it was no talk pete no discussions just murder attempts ON SIGHT. Tell me they don't go harder than any other rivalry

sci-fi boi: haha truuuu

~~~

"Are we boring you, Queens?"

Peter's head snapped up quickly, discreetly turning his phone off underneath the meeting table. "Um-huh? No no no, Mr. Rogers I'm listening. Sorry."

Steve shook his head and continued to speak as he pointed to the pictures on the screen at the end of the room. All of the Avengers of Earth were there, some half asleep, while the others either joked or listened intently.

In two short days, they were going to be taking back powerful tech that Martin Li(aka: Mr. Negative)'s "demons" had stolen from Stark Industries. A simple "get in and get out".

They'd known this plan for some days now, yet Steve insisted on calling meetings to go over it again and again.

Feeling a quick vibration go off in his hand, Peter instinctively looked back down at his phone to see a snapchat text notification from you.

~~~

crackhead [y/n]: According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible🐝...

~~~

Peter shook his head slightly as he chuckled, a smile shamelessly creeping onto his face.

~~~

sci-fi boi: did you really just quote the bee movie at me???😂😂

~~~

"Hey spidey-boy, would you mind sharing to the class what's so hilarious?" Rhodey's voice rang out loud and clear from across the table.

Quick as lightning, Peter turned his phone off and buried it in between his thighs, realizing that he hadn't been as quiet as he'd thought. To his luck, everyone’s eyes were trained on him now.

“It's n-nothing!” Peter squeaked, his voice breaking embarassingly. He shoved his phone into his pocket in fear of someone snatching it from him.

Natasha rolled her eyes and smirked. "So what're you looking at down there?"

"I-i, uh, I was just um, w-watching a funny- very funny video actually-"

"C'mon guys!," Sam laughed, clapping his hands together. "Don't tease the kid. We all know what he was smiling at down there!"

At that, Peter practically choked. "WHAT?!"

Tony snickered. "Personally, I don't think two inches is something to be proud of, but alright."

Peter's eyes widen, nearly falling out of his skull by the looks of it. "I-it's not two inches a-and I wasn't looking at-!"

"Jesus christ, guys..." Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He was obviously just doing something on his phone. Leave the poor guy alone."

Peter coughed as he saw Steve glare at him with that infamous 'Im Captain America and Im judging you' glare. Phones weren't allowed in the meeting room. Well, they weren't supposed to be. No one ever really followed that rule except Peter. But he'd already been so deep in his conversation with you that he just couldn't put his phone down. "No no, um, I wasn't.. I was just zoning out, y'know, and I just happened to be looking-"

"-at your phone?," Steve cut in to ask.

"-at your dick," Rhodey stated at the same time.

"-at porn," Tony said with an all-knowing smile, causing everyone at the table to turn towards either him or Peter, whose face was beet red with embarrassment.

"Peter please tell us you weren't watching porn," Scott begged, his jaw completely dropped. "I mean, no judgment but-"

"Full judgement, actually," Clint corrected, an extremely disturbed look on his face. "Seriously, what were you doing, kid? You gotta tell us now with all these assumptions being thrown around."

"Curious," Thor stated, leaning back in his chair. "What is porn?"

"Something that I definitely WAS NOT watching!," Peter responded as he practically slammed his face into the table and slapped his hands over his eyes. "Does it even matter what I was doing anyway?," he mumbled into the table.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, blowing the smoke off of her coffee. "People usually aren't this defensive when they're telling the truth, Peter."

Peter shrunk into his seat with a loud groan. Can I die. Can I please just die. Like why am I seriously even alive right now??? Some bad guy please just burst through the door and maim me please.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. pull up Parker's phone," Tony commanded once the commotion in the room died down.

Peter quickly lifted his head. "Wait, what?!"

"Accessing Peter Parker's mobile device, sir," F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded. "Would you like for me to transfer the screen to the meeting board?"

Tony looked back with a laugh to see a frozen, slack-jawed Peter. He turned back around. "Yeah sure, F.R.I.D.A.Y., what the heck let's have fun."

"No wait- are you seriously hacking into my phone right now?!"

"Well why're you so tense, Parker?," Sam asked teasingly. "Thought you had nothing to hide?"

"I-i don't!," he stammered. "I-it's just..." he trailed off, looking for the right words to say. "..that's my private property," he said lamely while staring at the wall.

Tony stared back at him. "Well that's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard." He pointed towards the board. "Alright it's coming up."

Scott closed his eyes. "Oh God, please don't be porn.."

Peter rolled his eyes. Everyone else looked to the large board, fully expecting to see either porn or just some stupid game the boy had been playing.

But none of them expected him to be texting a girl.

~~~

crackhead [y/n]: hey u still there?

~~~

"Who's crackhead [Y/N]?," Natasha asked.

Scott turned to Rhodes who was sitting on the side of him. "Is that some trashy porn star?," he whispered.

"Why're you asking me like I know?"

"It's this girl from school.." Peter answered, blushing profusely.

"And you like her," Natasha noted, watching his body language intently.

The boy's eyes widened. "N-no I don't!"

"Why crackhead though?," Rhodey asked, crinkling his nose.

Peter shrugged. "That's what she wanted her name to be," here responded. "Thought it was funny."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Just like you thought 'sci-fi boi' was funny?" Shaking his head, he changed focused. "Guys, are we gonna get back to work or not?"

"Not," Tony answered as he scrolled up all the way to the beginning of the messages from early that morning. "So, you've been texting this girl today off and on since..." He checked the time. "Five in the morning?"

Clint chuckled. "Oh yeah, huge crush."

“No!” Peter protested, his voice an octave too high. Realizing that it isn’t working, he decided to try a different technique. Clearing his throat, he tried to sound and act as nonchalant as possible. “She’s just a friend from school.”

"She's first on your best friends list, even over that computer kid you practically live with. And you and her practically snap each other nonstop."

Peter scratched his nose. "W-well that's only cuz Ned doesn't like to text much."

Bruce took his glasses off and sighed, realizing there was no way this meeting was getting back on topic. "Look Pete," he said. "Friends don't do that. I've seen it all before. If you and this girl are talking on a daily basis all throughout the day starting at five in the morning?" He titled his head in a suggestive way, though Peter stared back at him blankly.

"What?," Peter asked.

"Oh my God, kid," Bruce sighed.

Tony held his head back and laughed. "It means either she likes you and your just too dense, you like her but won't admit it and she's just concerningly nice, or you both like each other and just won't make your moves!"

Sam, who hadn't lifted his eyes from the board the entire time, spoke up. "And judging by these texts, you already got her, it's just not official yet."

Tony kept scrolling. "You two went to winter formal together?"

"Yeah... but as friends," Peter said with a shrug.

Steve cleared his throat loudly, gaining the attention of everyone in the room at once. He looked at Peter who was doing everything here could not to look him in the eye. "Look, as much as I would love to talk about Peter's sad love life, we have a mission-"

"-that will still be there tomorrow, Cap," Bucky finished for him. "C'mon we've been going over this stuff for hours. Let us have this distraction."

Everyone looked to him, Tony feigning a puppy dog expression. Crossing his arms, he left the room. "Fine, but when someone gets hurt because they didn't know where they were supposed to go, don't blame me."

"...literally no one's ever blaming you, man," Sam said.

Suddenly, the screen lit up and F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke. "Sir, Peter Parker has a new message."

Everyone looked to the board. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. Scroll down, Mr. Stark. Scroll down!," Peter yelled frantically. "What's she saying?"

Natasha smirked. "And you're sure you don't like her, Peter?"

His face flushed. "Okay fine...I might have a tiny crush-"

"I'm sorry I can't hear you," Tony cut in. "Can you say that agai-"

"-I SAID YEAH I REALLY LIKE THIS GIRL!," Peter finally yelled with his eyes squeezed shut. He kept them closed for about twenty seconds afterwards, afraid of the judging faces he would see if he opened them.

He carefully opened his eyes to see all of the avengers (minus Cap) staring back at him with stupid smiles and smirks on their faces.

"Well, that's all I needed to hear," Tony said. He clapped his hands together. "Okay everybody, first order of business, checking the text. Sam, you're our reader."

"Got it."

"What?," Peter yelled, reaching for his phone. Tony dodged him and gave it to Sam. "Mr. Stark, I can text a girl on my own. I don't need help."

"Nat, you're our timer. Make sure none of the responses take longer than a minute. We don't want the girl to get bored and go on to something else."

"Check."

"Mr. Stark, c'mon-"

"Sam, you explain stuff to lightning head over here if he doesn't understand it. This could be learning moment for ole Shakespeare. Thor, you listen to Sam."

"Right."

"On it."

"Everyone else, you're with me. We gotta find the perfect thing to say to this girl. I've got a feeling this is probably the only chance he's gonna have to get a girl in a long time."

Rhodes, Scott, Clint, Bruce, and Wanda looked to each other and nodded.

"And Pete?"

Peter raised his head. "Yes sir?"

"You know this girl more than anybody here does, so you tell us if what we say is appropriate for her or not."

Peter rolled his eyes and nodded. After all, what's the worst that can happen?

Tony pointed to Sam. "Okay, read it."

~~~

crackhead [y/n]: u going to flash's party on saturday??

~~~

"She wants to know if the kid's going to some party Saturday."

Tony turned to the boy. "You're going," her demanded.

Flash was the most popular douchebag in school. Totally rich and totally rude and totally determined to use his every breath to spite Peter. "I wasn't even invited," Peter mumbled, shooting a glare towards Sam when he heard him laughing.

"Well get invited," Tony ordered. "A party is the perfect place to make a move. Send yes."

~~~

sci-fi boi: yes

~~~

"Mr. Stark, how am I supposed to get into this party? Flash hates me! And if I crash it and Flash sees me, he's gonna make sure everyone thinks I'm a loser!"

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. "Peter we're trying to help you here. Figure that part out on your own."

Peter sighed, leaning forward in his chair. The last thing he wanted was another assignment, even if it wasn't actually an assignment. On the plus side, he'd get to see you, and maybe have some fun if he actually tried to enjoy himself.

~~~

crackhead [y/n]: cool so i guess ill go too

~~~

Rhodey chuckled while shaking his head. "Kid, if you don't ask this chick out the second you see her again, I'm gonna bodyslam you."

Peter frowned. "What do you mean?"

Bruce smiled. "Whether or not she went to the party was depending on if you were going," he pointed out.

"This girl used to be like that with me back in college," Scott said with a shrug. "Thought she liked me. Turned out she just had social anxiety..."

"Yeah you're really not helping this, bugman," Tony said.

"Wait, you guys think [Y/N] actually likes me back?," Peter asked, getting groans and laughs in return.

"Where have you been the last few minutes?," Natasha said.

"We've literally been saying that this entire time," Sam deadpanned.

Peter stared at his feet below the table. If the team was right, and you did actually like him back, then the movie marathon he was planning was the perfect excuse to hang out with you. "I-i think I might have a plan!," he rushed out, his head flying up. He pointed to Sam. "Ask her if she's free tonight!"

"Yes!," Thor yelled, his fists pumped into the air. "The spider child has grown his man balls!"

"Now that's what I'm talking about." Sam nodded approvingly as he texted.

~~~

sci-fi: r u free tonight??😉

~~~

"Wait hold on," Peter said, suddenly rushing towards the phone in a frantic manner. "Why is there a winking emoji?! I didn't say anything about a winking emoji!"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were flirti-"

Peter groaned. "Delete it, man. Delete it before her bitmoji pops up!"

"Okay okay, dang kid," Sam chuckled, quickly deleting the text and replacing it with one without a winking emoji. "There. And ya girl didn't even see it."

"Hey guys," Scott said. "I know we're all freaking out and stuff. But honestly, I'm just glad he wasn't watching porn." He shrugged. "So no matter what happens with this girl, today's still an absolute win."

It went on like this for a solid thirty minutes.

~~~

crackhead [y/n]: yeah wassup

sci-fi boi: wanna come over and watch movies?

crackhead [y/n]: sure what're we watching

sci-fi boi: we can decide that when u get here. how about 4??

crackhead [y/n]: alright sure

~~~

"Okay, last thing," Tony said. "We need a sly compliment. Something not that special about her, but enough to show her that you're tuned in. Gets them every time, trust me."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Wow, lady-killer."

Tony pointed towards her and shrugged. "She said it, not me."

Thor looked to Peter. "So, young spider. What have you observed about your darling love?"

Peter blushed, almost wanting to comment on the Thor's word choice but ultimately deciding not to. "Well, um, her eyes light up a lot when she gets excited and it's really dorky in a cute kind of way I guess," he mumbled, scratching his head.

"Alright I got it," Sam said, typing the words in. He lifted his shoulders into a shrug. "Who knows, kid? There be some hope for you."

~~~

sci-fi boi: btw how do you get ur eyes to sparkle so bright when u get happy about stuff? Just thinking about it lol its cute

~~~

Peter blew out a shaky breath as he looked back over the set-up he'd made in the living room.

He'd cleared out space to build a super huge homemade blanket fort and inside it at the end was his tv. Towards the middle were all of pillows he could find inside the house and at the other end were snacks. All around the inside were fairy lights because he knew you liked them, though personally he found them cliche.

He spent about an hour on the whole set and an additional thirty minutes stressing over and making sure everything was safe (with all three fairy lights and tv cords). The last thing he needed was for the both of you to catch on fire while watching the movie.

The two of you were going to be watching Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope (or as normal 'not-nerds' like to call it, "the first one"). Of course, he hadn't told the team that. If they'd known what movie he'd planned on showing her, high chances are they wouldn't have even let him out of Avengers tower. But if Peter was gonna be forced to hang out with someone (not that he was really complaining), he would at least pick the film.

Finally checking all the boxes in his head for the night, Peter went to go check the DVD before he heard your knock at the door.

"Coming!," he yelled, quickly chucking the disc into the DVD player. He ran to the door and opened it with an awkward smile. "Uh, hey [Y/N]."

"Hey," you said back, already sort of blushing. "How's it going?"

Peter stared. Are your eyebrows done or are they just naturally that nice? He found his voice after abruptly noticing that he was staring. "Uh-well. It's been going great! How's it going for y-you also as well?" He frowned. "I-i mean, what's been going on with your life lately? No, that's dumb. I meant-"

"Peter, Peter! Calm down, dude," you giggled. "I've been fine."

"Oh," he chuckled. "That's good... d-do you wanna come in?"

"Question. What're we watching, Peter?," you asked, a smile playing on your face. Considering what you remembered from the last time you were at his house, and the fort you could get a peek of from the doorframe, you figured it was special for the nerdy boy. Plus his shirt had Yoda on it.

Freakin' Star Wars.

Immediately, a wide grin spread across his face. "Remember what you promised me we'd watch?"

You rolled your eyes, stepping past him into his living room. "Yeah yeah, whatever. Time to get nerdy I guess."

"Come on, you'll love it,"Peter said, quickly closing the door behind them and then briskly running towards the fort to hold up the side blankets for you. "So, snacks and drinks are beside us. We'll chill on these blankets here. And...um, yeah. That's about it." After stepping outside for a bit to go turn off the lights(for the full "movie theater" experience), Peter laid down on his belly, reaching for the DVD player to press play.

You watched as he fumbled with the wires, making sure the DVD player was plugged in before turning it on. Has your jawline always been that sharp?

You couldn't quite place it, but his texts from before seemed.. weird. But not a bad weird at all. A good, intriguing weird.

And that compliment was pretty nice, but odd for Peter. Sure, he complimented you often, but it just felt different this time. Usually it'd be something like, "new dress?" or "nice shoes". But never "you're eyes sparkle when you get excited." Heck, you didn't even know that about you. Was he paying attention? Did that mean he-

You remember how he acted about Liz Allen and Michelle Jones. Always staring. Never able to even say a full sentence in front of them without stuttering up a storm.

But he was so comfortable about you for the most part. You were just a friend.

"Okay got it," Peter said, laughing excitedly as the screen in front of him lit up. He scooted back to where you were sat. "Prepare to have your mind blown."

The Fort quickly became dark as the Lucasfilm logo shined on the screen.

"I seriously dou-"

"Shhh!," he cut you off. "Wait for it..."

You gave him a look but joined him in his silence to see what he was waiting for.

BUMMMMM buh buh bummmm

Practically jumping on top of him, you flinched at the loud and sudden music. "Crap dude! Turn it down!"

Peter shook his head, reaching for a soda. "You have to get the full effect, [Y/N]!," he laughed. "Just embrace it." He began to sing with the music and mime crazy gestures as if he were directing an orchestra.

Duh duh duh DUH DUHHHHHHHH

Halfway through he stopped and recited the opening crawl, his eyes glued to the screen with a sort of focus that made you sure that not only was this not foreign to him, he probably did this every other week.

"It is a period of civil war," he mumbled, throwing some popcorn into his mouth. "Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base, have won their first victory against the evil Galactic- [Y/N] you have to watch the words, I swear it'll make the whole experience better." It went on for a little while longer until he paused the movie and looked over at you, cowering a bit. "D-do I have something on my face?"

"Huh? Nah you're good," you said, realizing he'd noticed you staring. "It's just-" you remembered his text from earlier. "-you got really excited... It-um..it was cute."

Because of the darkness(the only lighting being from the tv), you couldn't see if Peter blushed or not, but you could clearly see the stupid grin plastered on his face that he was trying to hide from you with his hand. Repeatedly licking his lips as a desperate attempt to stop smiling as he pressed play on the remote control. "A-ah, um, thanks [Y/N]."

The opening crawl was over and soon the movie actually began, showing a huge spaceship.

"That's the imperial star destroyer," Peter whispered, never taking his eyes off the screen. "They belong to the empire." He saw your blank expression, wide eyes as he realized that meant nothing to you. "Uh, the bad guys."

You squinted your eyes at the screen, silently judging the graphics of the energy blasts- space bullets?- or whatever they were supposed to be. "Pete, when was this movie made?"

"1977."

"Oh okay," you said, deciding to give it some leeway for the trash designs.

You scooted a little closer to your friend, figuring you'd get a little bit more comfortable.

Oh how he wished you hadn't done that.

Nothing like actual, physical contact with a girl that you like and you think she might like you back to actually manage to distract you from one of your favorite movies ever.

He froze, not wanting to pull away and offend you, but definitely not wanting to stay because just being this close to you was making his mind run wild.

Does she actually like me back? What if Mr. Stark and the team only said that to get me to make a fool of myself? She's too comfortable with me. She just sees me as a friend. Or maybe she likes me and she's just really chill about it? Ooh my gosh and she's leaning on me right now. What am I 'sposed to do?? I don't know I don't know I don't know!!!!!!!!!

Deciding for a quick compromise, he got up completely to reach for another soda, though his sprite was still half finished. When he sat back down, he wasn't as close. Hopefully, you'd just see it as natural human behaviour and not him wanting to be away from you.

Course you would see it that way, wouldn't you?

"Oh my gosh I recognize someone! That's R2D2, right?!" You pointed wildly, glad to not be completely clueless for once with this nerd crap.

"Yeah that's R2," Peter responded, letting out a secret sigh of relief, thankful for the distraction.

"A-and that's that gold dude!"

"Yeah, C-3PO."

"And oh crap that's Princess Leia!," you shouted. "Fucking feminist icon!"

Peter tilted his head. "Wait, how would you know that if you've never watched this?"

You laughed. "I still have access to the internet, doofus! Scroll down the nerdy feminist side of tumblr and Leia is literally everywhere."

Peter chuckled as he finally finished his sprite. "Okay. Valid."

Since that, you stopped talking for a bit. Part of you actually did figure that since you're here, you might as well actually try to enjoy the movie and maybe find out what the fans actually see in it that makes them like it so much. The other part just really didn't want to annoy Peter while he was watching his favorite movie series.

But sometimes you just have to say something.

"Hold up, wait. Isn't that his sister? Oh my God, Pete I swear somebody told me before that Leia was Luke's twin!"

Peter shrugged while nodding. "Well, that's a bit of a spoiler, but yeah. What about it?"

"Oh my gosh, Pete- what about it?! Dude, he's literally making 'fuck me' eyes at his own sister! He's all like, 'ooh you're so sexy I'm gonna bone you all over the galaxy'. That's freaky!"

You grabbed the remote and began to rewind it.

"C'mon now [Y/N]," he explained. "He didn't call her sexy. He said she was beautiful. Sexy is wayyy different from beautiful. You can think your family members are beautiful can't you?"

You paused it once you got to where you wanted.

"Okay Parker, look at that. Look at that and tell me Lukes's not totally undressing her with his eyes!" You pointed at Peter's face with a goofy smile on yours. "Oh wow, I've finally figured you people out now."

Peter's head cocked to the side. "Figured out what?"

"Star Wars nerds are a bunch of horny kids that like that step-sibling porn stuff but can't watch that in front of their parents so they have to use an alternative!"

Peter fell on his back with laughter, practically rolling around like a pig. "[Y/N], what?!"

You gave him an incredulous look. "Who else likes to see two siblings bang each other, Peter?!"

At that he pointed back at you while picking up his other soda. "To be fair, they never do that with each other. They only kiss, like twice and that's it. And one of them is only to make Han Solo mad."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about the Han Solo guy. Where is he anyway?"

Peter smiled. "Well, we're only twenty mintues in. He'll come soon."

To tell the truth, Peter really didn't even know what part you were at. His eyes were watching the screen but nothing was being comprehended. The only thing he could manage to think about was all the tiny things that were going on over on your side of the fort. Did you notice him staring? Was Tony right and you were just concerningly nice?

"I love how everybody at this bar is so chill south everything that's happening. It's like oh wow this guy just shot this green dude at table 8 and nope we totally don't care," you joked, pulling Peter out of his trance. He reminded himself that he should probably try to pay more attention. He didn't want to ruin the movie for you in case you had any questions.

But eventually, like all things do, the movie came to an end.

"So, how'd you like it?," Peter said while neither one of you made a move to leave the dark fort. You were laid out in practically a starfish-type position while he was sitting Indian-style.

You smirked. "I'll admit, it was pretty nice for a movie made in 1977. Still a bit lame though," you teased, pinching your fingers together with a giggle. Suddenly, you gasped. "Ooh, Vader was pretty lit though! Just straight force-choking people who disagree with you is such a power move."

Peter rolled his eyes and scoffed lightly. "Typical..."

"Excuse me?"

He bit back a quick smile. "Look, I'm not saying that Darth Vader isn't awesome. Because he is! Totally and completely but [Y/N], you do realize that in literally every movie we watch you like the villains?," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Because the villains are awesome!," you defended.

"Just saying. I'm sensing a bit of a pattern...," he teased.

You scoffed. "This coming from the guy who actually feels bad about some the people crashing into things when we're watching Ridiculousness," you said, reminding in how Peter was forever the relentless sap. "Well, while you're so busy judging me, whose your favorite character?"

At that, he gave a small sincere smile. "Ben. He's really cool."

"Ben Kenobi? The old guy that literally let himself die? But why?"

He shrugged, the small grin still present on his face. "Eh, sentimental reasons..."

He watched you return his sweet smile and it was then and there when Peter really felt content with the night. Though, you hadn't even known the weight his words carried, he did. Ned was the only other person who knew about it. But Peter knew right then and there that if you had asked, he'd tell you. And he knew you'd understand. Maybe you were just nice. Or maybe you did like him back. But in that moment, Peter didn't care. He just wanted to be here with you. Lost in the warm smell of popcorn and your vanilla perfume, watching a Star Wars movie with Uncle Ben surely smiling down from Heaven. And it gave Peter hope that maybe, just maybe, this was a step in the right direction.

2 hours (and five minutes) down. 22 hours (and forty seven mintues) to go...

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

Taglist: @underoosjae @spn-assemble-seven @of-your-eyes-begonia-skies @parkerpeter24 , @audreylovespidey706

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cruecifymesixx · 4 years

Text

Love and Leather /part Sixxty Eight/

Word Count:10.9k

A/N: continuation from 67! Enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated

Warnings: language, extreme angst, intense therapy sessions, SMUT(bear with me. I haven't wrote smut in a hot minute)

Taglist: @brideofdraculana , @xstarryeyesx , @aryssav , @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol , @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless,, @venus-calum, @justjodeye, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland @awesomealmostdopestudent, @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy, @thanks2pete, @slowandangry, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @wheresmyvodkabitch, @waywardprincess666, @iluvmesomemarvelndc @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe, @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @sleepyjunhong @lovemythsworld @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @unknownoblivion @siliwanoel @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17 @lavendersoundbarrier @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor @kellysimagines @meetthesixxter, @duffshairdye, @xpoisonousrosesx, @m0rnlngstar, @cranberrirolls, @oskea93, @love-struck-aries, @idumpyourgrass, @minxtruck, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @cruesixxlover1991, @arianareirg, @fentitrbl, @dogmom2014, @sinningsixx, @motleycrueprincess

*Nikki's POV*

"Nikki, Vanity is in the hospital. She doesnt want you here but im not taking Arianna to the hospital because I dont waknow what kind of condition Van is in. So, I need you to be here for your daughter, or are you actually the asshole I think you are?"

I stared down at the desk, trying to Process waht was going on, "Nikki? Did you hear me?" My stomach was twisting into knots as my heart felt like it was stuck in a vise grip.

"The hospital? Is-is she okay?" I breathed out the words. You know when you have those moments where it feels as if all time is standing still and you are the only person in the univer? Thats how i was feeling.

"I dont know Nikki! All i know is Arianna wasnt picked up from school. I found her waitin ginside when I left. I tried calling Vanity but she didnt answer and I had a voicemail from the hospital saying she was there and im her only emergency contact she has."

I reached for my water, dowing it until the bottle was empty, "Uh...uh...it's gonna take me hours to get there regardless..."

Clementine scoffed, "Unbelievable, do you not fucking hear me? Vanity is in the hospital!! The mother of your child and so called loved of your life needed medical attention!"

"It's gonna take me hours to get there..." I repeated.

"I don't give a shit Nikki. You have the fancy jet, use it."

I shook my head, "Look, im the last person Vanity wants to see right now. Can't you just send Ari to one of her friends or something.? Can't someone else watch her while you go to the hospital? Clementine, I'm across the country..."

She laughed, "As if I would send her to stay with Jason. I'm her only friend here, Nikki."

I felt my bood boil and my body become tense, "Ja-Jason? She's talking to Jason?" My jaw was clenched as I galred at the doorway, seeing Brandi scowling against it.

"Well Nikki, if you had kept your promise Jason wouldnt be an option." I closed my eyes, breathing through my nose as I shook my head, "He's not a fucking option!!" I yelled back in defense, "He aint even a fucking blimp."

"Are you coming or not? Arianna has already been so upset and stressed out lately. I don't want her to be upset even more. Trust me, Vanity feels the same way."

I glared at Brandi, "Just give me a few hours." I watched as she threw her arms up and shook her head.

"You fucked up this time. I mean it. You can ignore Vanity, but you dont lie to your kid."

"I know! I know! I just...look I'll explain everything whenI get there, alright?" I retorted as I hung up the phone and looked at Brandi, "You! It's all your fucking fault!"

Brandi was appalled, "Me? I did nothing! You were the one who didnt call and kept saying you were too busy! Don't put that on me!"

"I did nothing." I mocked her voice, walking past her and to my bedroom, "As if you didn't fuckin use coke and your body to make stay with you."

I shook my head, quickly grabbing garments from the closet and throwing them on my bed, "Filled my head with bullshit!" I shouted as I threw the duffle bag on the bed next.

Brandi laughed, "Oh come on Nikki. You know who you really want."

I shook my head, trying to rid my ears of her nasaly voice, "Yeah, now I do! Now that I know my daughter has been crying over me and that Vanity is in the hospital! It takes her getting hurt to make me realize it!" I screamed, watching her flich at the loudness, "It always takes Vanity getting hurt to make me fucking realize how much of an asshole I am!!"

God, I fucking hope she's okay.

"Oh my god, she's probably being dramatic! Nikki, please don't go. I just got you back, stay here with me. Please baby?"

"Why?! So you can keep ruining my fucking life? So you can keep going on the lavish trips and shopping sprees?! Fuck you and fuck off! I'm done. If I get back and your shit is still here, I'm burning this fucking house to the ground with you and your shit in it!" I threatened, grabbing my bag and then my car keys right after.

"I'm serious, Brandi. I am done. I'm signing the papers and giving them back to the lawyers."

*A few hours later*

I got out of the rental car, slamming the door as I parked outside Vanit's apartment building. I went inside, repeatedly pushing the elevator button until it opened,. I stood in the elevator, pushing my hair out of my face as I tried collecting my thoughts. I had called Clementine on the plane and she said she was at Vans house waiting for me. I couldn't wait to see Arianna.

The door slid open on her floor as I speed walked down the hallway before I was face to face with her front door. I knocked and waited until it opened.

"Took you long enough." Clementine answered, a bitchy glare on her face as I sighed, "I'm sorry, okay! I am sorry!" I said, almost out of breath as I looked at her.

"I am not the one you need to apolgize too." She snapped at me as my eyes glanced over to Arianna who was staring at me from across the living room.

"Pumpkin.." I got down on one knee, smiling at her, "I've missed you."I frowned when she completely ignored me and walked straight to Clementine.

"I want Mommy." She whsipered, pulling on Clem's hand and looking up at her.

"I'm gonna go get her babe, okay?" I tried reassuring her, but all i got in return was mean glare.

Clementine smirked as I straightened back up, "Good luck, hope you come back in one piece."

*Vanity's POV*

I glared at the wall, sitting uncomfortable as ever with my arm in a sling, dried blood around my nose and six stitches on my forehead. My glare then went to the nurse who entered my hospital room. "Can I just fucking get something for pain?! I'm dying here!!" I yelled at her, they've ignored my requests three fucking times!!

"Hello! Are you fucking stupid or something?!" I groaned, pushing the bed side table towards the nurse as she was standing at the counter.

"And something other then god damn ice chips?!" I shouted grabbing the pink plastic cup and throwing it out into the hallway.

The nurse turned towards me, "Ma'am, you need to behave. r I will get psych down here to take you to thier side of the hospital. You understand me?" She berated me like a fucking child as I looked away from her and out the window, "I will work on getting you something to drink. Buut I cannot give you any medications." I rolle dmy eyes, pulling my arm away from her touch as she tried to wrap the blood pressure cuff around my bicep.

"Do you have any recollection of what you have put into your system? cocaine and diamorphine were all found in your blood system."

"What the actual fuck is diamorphine?" I qustioned her, rubbing my temples as I felt myself becoming irritated even more.

"Plus, when you came in your blood alcohol contenet was at a point one five and thats three times the legal limit in the state of New York." I looked at the banana bag I was hooked up too, "Diamorhpine is heroin, Vanity."

"Jason..." I mentally cursed him out, "I don't do heroin." I told her as she looked at me with the same look she probably gives other druggies taht tell her the same exact thing.

"Well, we did have difficulty setting up an IV, your veins are shot in both your arms. Luckily, we were able to get the veins in your hands to cooperate or we would have had to do a pick line straight to your heart."

I shook my head, "I don't do heroin. The blow was probably mixed with the heroin. I wouldn't willingly touch heroin. I didn't- I wouldn't."

"You are very lucky the car accident wasn't your fault, but the police will be in touch with you later to get your statement. May I take your vitals now?" The nurse, whose name tag read Margie questioned as I nodded.

"Statement? I don't rember anything. When can I go home? I have a daughter-" I gasped, "I have... i have to call Clementine!" I tried getting out bed but the nused pushed me back gently by my other shoulder.

"Our charge nurse has already conta ted her, now please, relax. I'm sure your child is fine." I took some deep breaths as I relaxed into the stiff bed, "Now, since youre awake and coherent, you dislocated your shoulder and you have a concussion so no blood thinner or it could make it worse. You had a minor laceration on your forehead but the doctor took care of it."

"Sorry to interrupt you Margie, but your patients husband is here." Another female nurse stated.

"I don't have a husband." I told them and right on queue, the blood pressure monitor started beeping eratticaly when I saw Nikki.

"Get out!! I don't want him here!!" I picked up a cup of jello, chucking it as hard as I could at him but he ended up catching it in his hands.

"I thought you said you were her husband?"

"I'd rather fucking kill myself than be married to him!"I shouted at the nurse, her eyes widening at my statement.

"Margie, should I call psych?"

Nikki put the cup of lime green jello on the counter, taking hesitant steps towards me, "I am just here to take you home. Clem called me and I just flew on the jet all the way here. She's with Arianna, she didn't want her to worry."

"You're her ride home?" Nikki nodded, "No! I'm not going anywher with this psycho!" I motioned to Nikki as he frowned.

"Doll, please?"

I pointed my finger at him, "Don't do that to me, Nikki! Don't look at me like that and don't talk to me like that!"

He rolled his eyes, completely ignoring me as he started talking with the nurse, "Can i have her discharge papers, please? She'll be safe with me. She's just a little uh...pissed off at me at the moment. It's nothing new." Nikki tried to laugh as I glared at him and as the jurses looked a bit weary.

"Do you have another ride, Vanity?"

I exhaled in a defeated manenr, "No. I don't."

"Why don't you step outside with our charge nurse while wehelp her get dressed an situated with the sling." Margie explained to Nikki, motioning to the door as he nodded and stepped out.

I pulled up my jeans after they handed them to me followed by my booths. The nurses helped me put my shirt on, with minimal complaints from me about my shoulder hurtinbefore hanging my jacket off my shoulders.

"Van, look, I don't want to be here-"

"You should want to be here, Nikki!" I shouted at him in the middle of the hospital, feeling other doctors and nurses look at us.

"Stop it! Just let me finish! I meant here, in the hospital with you! Clem called and here I am! So i'll take you home and just fucking go back to California if thats's what you want, alright!?" Nikki raised his voice as I stared at him in disbelief.

I vocally let out a "Ugh!" before pushing him to the side, "I can't stand you!"

"Yeah, just keep it coming Vanity. Tell me how much you hate me!" Nikki followed with heavy footsteps as we evenutally made it outside of the hospital, "Fuckin telll me Van! Tell me how horrible I am and how much of an asshole I am! Let's get it out of the way now princess!"

I quickly turned around, shoving him with my free arm repeatedly, "Where were you?!" I yelled, "You bastard! I can't fucking believe you would do this!" I shoved his chest again, forcing him to lean back into the wall as I continued to do so, "i'm so fucking sorry wer're such a bruden to you and your wife!"

"She's not my wife! I was busy!" He defended himself as I shoved him again, "Vanity, knock it off!"

"Busy with what Nikki?! Tommy's been here so don't even tell me it's the band and I highly doubt divorce papers take three months to sign!"

"She tried getting me to stay and-"

"Tried?! Nikki, you did stay! You chose her over me, not even me but your fucking daughter!" I shoved him again, but this time he grabbed my arm and forced it to my side.

"Calm down, now!" He lowered his head, shouting in my face as I fought his grip, "She's getting her shit out while im here! My marriage to her is over! Alright?! Stop acting like a fucking bat out of hell!"

I forced my wrist away from his grasp, "Just take me to my daughter."

"I'm sorry, Vanity. I really am."

I rolled my eyes, opening up his car door before sitting down, "Fucking save it Nikki. You're always sorry."

When we arrived at my apartment door, I unlocked it and tried slamming it in Nikk's face but he stopped it from closing.

"Mommy!" I sighed, trying to keep my tears in check as I picked up Arianna and gave her a hug.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry. Mom got into a little trouble and she had to go see the doctors, but im okay now." I smothered her cheeks in kisses, "Pizza and cookies? Wow! Did you tell Auntie Clem thank you?"

Arianna giggled, "We made them for you! And we saved some pizza. Auntie said you would be grumpy and hungry when you got home." I smiled, silently thanking Clementine.

"Boo boo?" Arianna frowned as she pulled on the swing a bit.

I nodded and brushed my finger over her cheek, "Yeah angel, a really big boo boo but i'll be better in no time." I smiled as she kissed my cheek. I saw her then look over my shoulder as I sighed and put her down on the floor, "You should go say hi to daddy while he's here..."

Arianna glared at him before she loooked up at me, "I saw him already."

"Nikki took a few steps before crouching down to her height, "I've missed you princess." He smiled at her and fixed a loose strand of her hair, "Dad's been busy.." Arianna wasn't buying his bullshit either as she walked away from him and went to play with the scattered toys in the living room.

Nikki, the six foot and buck seventy five man that he is, got on his hands and knees and crawled over to her, "You got new toys? Those are pretty cool."

"I want to play by myself." Arianna told him, moving all of her toys away from Nikki and putting them in front of her.

I felt Clementines glaring at me, "I am fine."

"Oh really now?" She laughed a bit, "What the hell even happened Vanity?"

I motioned her to come over to the table and sit down with me so our conversation would be out of earshot from both Nikki and Arianna.

"You cannot get mad, alright? But I maybe snorted a bit too much and drank a little, or a lot. I don't remember crashing, and I sure as hell don't remember getting to the hospital-" I laughed, "And get this, heroin was mixed in with the blow I got from Jason. Isn't that hilarious?"

"Vanity..."

"No worries! It's all good!" I reassured Clementine with a pat on the arm, "I'm fine, I mean kinda. My shoulders dislocated and I have a concussion. They flushed my system, I'm good! I'm great!" I shrugged it off like it was nothing as Clem wore an upset look on her face.

She took off her glasses, rubbing her temples before she looked at me, "Good/" Good until Jason gives you more drugs?"

"I'm not. I'm done. I finished off what he had gave me, I told myself that's all I would do. I'm sorry clem."

She scoffed, "Sorry?" Vanity, you could've been seriously injured or worse. You're wasting money on this crap!" Clementine raised her voice just a tad.

"Well, so what if I am? It's not like I'm broke or poor." i retorted, glancing over and seeing Nikki attempt to get into Arianna's good graces.

"Nice, real nice Vanity." I looked back at Clem, seeign her stone cold glare.

"What?!" I gave her a confused expression, "That was not a shot at you if that's what you are thinking. You're not broke or poor. Your paintings sell and I give you money for being her babysitter."

"I said I wanna play alone!!" We both turned our heads when Arianna had yelled at Nikki, "Give me my dolly!" She yelled again, snatching it out of his hands.

"Princess, I am sorry I've been gone." Nikki spoke with hurt in his voice as he stared at her in shock before he glanced at me for guidance.

"Arianna, c'mon. You can't just ignore me." Nikki smiled before ticking her sides.

I watched as she pushed his hands away from her, "Go away."

"She's as stubborn as you are." Clementine mumbled to me as I nodded.

"I don't want to play with you." Arianna muttered as she moved away from Nikki completely, taking her toys with her but he only followed after her.

"Daddy just has stuff to take care of in California, ya know?" Nikki spoke softly as he laid on his side and tinkered with one of her toys.

"Go back to 'fornia!"

Nikki sighed, narrowing his eyes at her, "Arianna, do not yell at me."

"You lied! Mommy said you lied!"

Remind me to stop gossiping with Clementine while Arianna is within the same vicinity.

Nikki side eyed me before turning his attention back to her, “Babe, I-I didn’t lie. I told you I’d be back and I’m here now.”

“You stutter!”

“Arianna, I didn’t lie to you! Stop yelling at me!” Nikki raised his voice, not necessarily yelling at her but he was stern.

“Liar!” Arianna shouted, throwing her doll at Nikki’s face before she ran down the hallway to her bedroom. I heard her attempt to slam her door but since little tiny fingers and door jams don’t mix well, I had put foam at the top of the wooden frame.

Nikki mumbled as he got off the floor, “Just like your mother.”

“I think maybe you should go…” I told him as his eyes darted over to me.

Nikki shook his head, “I flew all the way out here. She can be stubborn all she damn well pleases, but I’m not leaving.”

“Then you should have called. Kids aren’t stupid.”

I closed my eyes, wishing Clementine had not put her two cents in as I felt Nikki’s anger rise even more.

“Stay the fuck out of it! It isn’t any of your god damn business!” He snapped at her quickly as she rolled her eyes before she stood up and started grabbing her things.

“Clem..” I spoke softly as I watched her shake her head, probably plotting how to murder Nikki and get away with it.

“Not a single fucking thank you for making sure your kid doesn’t know you like to come home high and pass out. That she doesn’t know how much of a fucking asshole her father is.”

I glared at Nikki as he rolled his eyes at me and went to sit down on the couch, “Clementine, I’m sorry. But thank you for making sure Arianna is always safe. I love you?”

She sighed, glancing at me as she looked back at Nikki, “I love you too…just call if you need me okay? Maybe take your mutt to go get neutered, he likes pissing on everything.”

I tried to keep my laughter in, “Bye Clementine, Thank you.”

I closed the door, turning around and leaning against it as Nikki stood in the middle of my living room.

“Can we please talk now? Just you and me.” I watched as he fiddled with his thumbs as I went to the fridge and grabbed my bottle of wine and glass from the cupboard.

“I don’t think you should be drinking if you…” Nikki stopped talking as he was met with my death glare. I sat down on the couch as he sat down next to me.

“You were gone for months, Nikki. You didn’t even call! You barely called at first and then it just stopped. How is that suppose to make me feel? To make your daughter feel?” I expressed my grievances as I poured the sweet red into the glass.

“Vanity, I’m sorry.” He placed his hand on my knee, “I fucked up. I really fucked up. She…Brandi gave me coke and it had me going for a minute. I was an idiot.”

“Blow? She gave you blow? I introduced you to your fucking child and you just run back to la la land because of some fucking dust? Prioritize what’s important to you, Nikki!”

Nikki shook his head, “I thought…I just thought maybe you didn’t really want me back, that it was all just a one time thing.”

That alone sent a knife straight through my heart, “A one time thing?” I stared at him, “After the night we spent together before you left, you really thought that was a one time thing? I wouldn’t of said the things I said if it was just a one time thing.”

“Babe, I was just…she fucking cornered me and it was a moment of weakness.”

I laughed in his face, “More like a moment of stupidity. Let me guess, she offered a few lines to you with her mouth wrapped around your dick again?”

Nikki took the glass of wine out of my hand before pulling me towards him, “I am sorry, okay? I messed up. I listened to the wrong person. I made a horrible mistake. I promise darling, I’m not going anywhere. I’m done leaving. I should have never went back there to begin with, should’ve made the lawyers fly out here.”

I felt his hand wrap around mine as his thumb brushed over my bruised knuckles, “How do I know that Nikki? That you just won’t leave again? That I won’t have to think of some bullshit reason to tell Ari why you aren’t here.”

“Because I’m not going anywhere Van, I swear to god I’m not leaving again. I’m not leaving unless you and her come back home with me. Brandi’s gone, princess. It’s done. She used coke because she knows it’s one of my weaknesses right after you.”

“Why does she have such a hold on you Nikki? I saw the pictures in the magazine. You two looked so happy.” I felt my chest get heavy as tears started building up.

Nikki kissed the back of my palm, “Those pictures were a bunch of lies doll, you have to believe me Vanity. I had to stay at a hotel for a few days after cause I felt so…so fake and wrong. I just wanted to hide and disappear from the world.”

Nikki wiped my cheek with a finger, “Why didn’t you come back to me right after that? You could’ve came here Nikki.”

I saw tears in his hazel eyes, “I-I was scared. Scared that the weeks I spent here with you and her was too good to be true. That all of this was happening again. It’s us Vanity, when are the cards ever in our favor?”

“We have some pretty shitty cards dealt for us, huh?” I laugh as I wipe his tears from the corner of his eye, “Please stop hurting me.” I begged him as I cupped his jaw, feeling the muscle relax underneath, “I’d wait forever for you, Sixx. I’m stupid for doing it, but I would do it in every universe.”

Nikki frowned, “I know. I know. I won’t, I promise. Please…please don’t take me out of yours and her lives. I want to be apart of it.”

“Nikki, that’s all based on your behavior. Not mine.”

He nodded, “Okay, fine. Where…where can I start? What do you want me to do.” He was acting like an attentive puppy waiting for his next treat.

“Can you get Arianna ready for bed?”

Nikki laughed, “How hard could that even be?”

*Nikki’s POV*

I had chased Arianna round the house for the past hour, even tripping and almost falling over rugs and her toys that were every where. I chased Arianna into her room as she laughed her ass off. No, this wasn’t a fun game of chase.

“Arianna, time for bed. Now!” I grabbed her as she started laughing more. I carried her to her bedroom before pulling down her blankets and putting her in bed.

“You aren’t the boss of me!” She said, kicking the blankets off and attempting to get out of bed. I’d be willing to let her but it was already nine at night.

I lightly pressed on her shoulders, putting her Back down, “Arianna, do you want me to use my mean voice? Bed, now. Or you won’t like it when you don’t get any cookies or TV tomorrow.”

Her big brown eyes turned to saucers, “You’re being a poo poo head!” She shouted, tugging the blanket away from my hand.

“Yeah, and you’re being a brat. Go to sleep.” I realized that was too harsh when her bottom lip quivered.

“You’re being mean!” She pouted as she grabbed her stuffed animal and turned on her side and faced the wall.

“Goodnight angel.” I muttered before turning off her ceiling light and plugging in her night light, “Or demon.” I whispered as I stepped out of her room and closed the door.

I walked into the kitchen, seeing Vanity downing some whiskey. She had just taken her pain pills not even thirty minutes ago, “Maybe you need help. Rehab or something.” I told her softly as she shook her head and put the bottle back in the fridge

“Van, you got into a car accident. We’re lucky this wasn’t another Razzle incident….” I trailed off as she stared at me in disbelief.

“Nik, it was just a fluke accident. Plus, the person in front of me was driving like an idiot. I’m fine.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Fluke accident? Vanity, I ended up dying and coming back. If I had someone tell me then I wouldn’t have gone through all that. And you especially wouldn’t have had to find me in my closet after.”

Vanity rolled her eyes, “Literally everyone did tell you to slow down…”

“And did I listen? No, I was too late and I was lucky to come back from it. Don’t you get it doll?”

She huffed and puffed, “You’re being dramatic. I’m not going to die. I don’t over do it like you. Jason just had a bad batch that was mixed with…” I waited for her to say it, “He gave me blow that was mixed with smack.”

”Oh, speedballs. Next thing you know you’ll be freebasing.” I retorted as she let out a gasp, “I would never do that! Listening to you and reading those journals you had were scary.”

I chuckled, “Scary? Well, seems like you’ll be looking for something more intense soon enough. It’d be a shame to make Arianna go through what you went through with me.”

Vanity shook her head, “I would never go out looking for something stronger and I would never do that to Arianna.” She defended herself as this argument was now becoming amusing to me.

“That’s what I said too. You know, you act as if I was never a drug addict. She’s not gonna be able to tell you to stop, she’s a kid Van. I had to watch my mom do this shit.”

She glared at me, “Because I’m not an addict like you Nikki. I’m not hiding in closets and I never do this stuff around her. Yeah, Jason comes over but we don’t do drugs here.”

I shook my head, “A guy you shouldn’t even be associating with in the first place! He’s bad fucking news, Van.”

“What are you? My fucking dad?” Vanity snapped quickly as we stared at one another.

“Fine, do whatever the hell you want. I’m gonna go find a hotel and I’ll be back in the morning.” I grabbed my jacket off the chair as I walked past her, “Goodnight V.” I spat out hastily as I opened up the front door.

I felt her hand wrap around my wrist as I hung my head down low and exhaled, “What? We’re just pissing each other off. You’re on edge because you were forced to detox at the hospital and not thinking rationally. You really want to argue more, Vanity?”

She shook her head as her hand moved to mine, holding it tightly, “I want you to stay with me, please?”

My eyes met hers, seeing the pain and vulnerability in them, “I’ll relax, okay? I’m fine. I just want you to stay with us. You’ve been gone way to long.”

She pulled me inside, walking backwards as she played with the rings on my fingers, “You relax too. I can tell you’re upset.”

I pulled my hand away from her, “Van, why do you think I’m upset? Clementine called me saying you were in the hospital? Do you even have a clue what I thought was wrong? That maybe Arianna would be without a mother and I wouldn’t have you anymore? Do you know how terrifying that is for me? You’ve been the only constant, besides the band in my life. You’re all I have Vanity…and I already had to experience life without you and I don’t want to do it again.” I sat down on the couch as she sat down next to me, her back resting against the arm as she looked at me.

“I’m fine Nikki.” I shook my head, “No you are not. You aren’t fine and you haven’t been fine for a while. Is this…is this because of me? You doing this to yourself. The drugs? The drinking? Hanging around Jason?”

Vanity played with the ends of her hair, picking off dry blood as she looked at me, “I don’t know…” I rested my hand on her knee, brushing my thumb across her skin, “It’s…it’s not because of you. It’s because of the hurt and the pain you cause. I’m high and I don’t think or feel it. It numbs it..”

I laid my head against the back of the couch, “Have you gone to your therapist lately? If you don’t want to go to rehab then you need to be going to therapy.”

“No, I haven’t.” She mumbled as I groaned.

“Vanity, you need too! I’ll make an appointment for you.” I looked at her, seeing her staring down at her nails until I put my hand under her chin to make her look at me, “I think you need to come back home. You live where there’s a dealer around every corner and back alley. You’ll never get clean here.”

Her eyebrows tightened together, “I’m not leaving New York.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want too!” She quietly shouted, “Arianna was born here, this is all she’s known, Nikki.” She expressed her concerns as I listened.

“I understand that, but don’t you think she’d love to see the ocean? Be near me instead of only flying out when I can? She’s a kid Van, she can adjust. I think it’s only you who doesn’t want to come back home.” Vanity looked away from me, wiping her cheeks as I kissed the top of her knee before resting my chin against it.

“Then I’ll fly her out to see you or something. There’s an ocean here too, ya know? You moved around so many times as a kid and look what it did to you. I don’t want that for her.”

“I’m move here, then.”

Her lips parted, “You can’t move here. Everything for you is in Los Angeles, the band, the music. Not New York Nikki, no. I won’t let you do that.”

“Fuck the band, Vanity! I have enough money to not need the band for a while. I want you and I want our daughter, nothing else. I want you.” I told her as she wiped her tears away again and looked at me, “I want you the only way I know you. I want you to be okay again, to be a good mom and to be my best friend. If you don’t want to be my girl just yet, fine. Arianna can just take your place.”

Vanity broke out into a beautiful smile, “The only girl that’s ever allowed to to take my place.” She rested her hand against my jaw, thumb grazing over my cheek, “I still love you Nikki.”

“I still love you more.”

I let out a sigh, I guess we'll save the coming back home argument for another day.

*A few days later, Vanity’s POV*

“Mommy..” I opened up my eyes, glancing over at the clock and saw that it was seven in the morning, “Daddy’s making breakfast and I don’t want to eat it.”

I chuckled, sitting up carefully and resting my shoulder against the pillow, “And whys that?”

She shrugged, “Cause he’s a poo poo head and he’s being mean to me.”

I stared at her, brushing her messy hair out of her face “Quit calling him that Ari. You know, you’re probably hurting his feelings. He said he was sorry, you’re being stubborn like me.”

“I am not stu-stubborn!” She defended herself as she crossed her arms over her chest and gave me the stink eye.

I grabbed her and put her off to the side as I got out of bed, “Let’s go get ready for school and then you’re eating whatever your dad made.” Arianna crawled out of my bed as she started running to her room, “Am not!!” I followed her and went to her closet to pick out an outfit.

“Get dressed and I’ll do your hair after you eat breakfast.” I repeated myself, “No!!!” I chuckled as her tiny hands pushed me out of her bedroom.

I walked down the hallway and into the kitchen seeing Chef Sixx attempting to flip pancakes, “Ow! Fucking piece of shit!” He shouted as the bacon popped oil onto him as he turned it.

“Need some help?” I asked him as he turned around to look at me, laughing as he did so

“Ha! Yeah right! I’m not letting you anywhere near this until it’s done. I’m not eating burnt bacon or doughy pancakes.” He continued to laugh as he started cracking eggs in a bowl before whisking them.

“I’ve learned to cook.” I mumbled as I sat down on the barstool, Nikki handing me a cup of coffee right after.

“Two sugars and a lot of creamer, right?” He questioned a smile on his face as he held up the spatula. I nodded and took a sip.

“How was the couch?” My lips tugged in a crooked smile as he had an unamused expression on his face.

“It was fine. Would prefer to keep your bed warm. But…it was fine.” Nikki exasperated, “I had Arianna’s fairy blanket to keep me warm since you didn’t give me a blanket or a pillow.”

I looked at Nikki, taking another sip of coffee “You didn’t ask for anything last night. So how am I suppose to know?”

Nikki scoffed as he turned towards the stove and continued cooking, “Keep it up and you won’t get any of this.”

I shook my head, “Not hungry anyways.” I smiled when Arianna came out into the kitchen, glaring at Nikki as she climbed up on the barstool next to me.

“Well too bad, you’re gonna eat. You’re too skinny still.” Nikki stares as he put a plate of mini blueberry pancakes, eggs and bacon in front of Arianna.

“Am not.” I told him as I watched Arianna push the plate away from her, “Are too. Your ass is getting smaller.”

Jeez, thanks asshole. As if I can’t see the weight loss when I look in the mirror.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, “Eat your breakfast Ari so we can finish getting ready.”

She stuck her nose up, turning her head away, “I’m not eating that. It’s gross.”

I sighed, “How would you know that? You haven’t even taken a bite yet. Eat, now.”

“It’s gross cause he made it.” She spoke in a matter of fact type of tone, sticking her tongue out at Nikki, “Can I have cereal? I don’t want it.”

Nikki put a plate in front of me, “Look, I’ll eat mine if you eat yours.” I took a bite of the pancakes, moaning as they were good, “Holy crap.” I started shoveling them into my mouth. We’re they that good? Probably not. But I can’t remember the last time I ate something sufficient.

“Can I have yours?” I looked at Ari as she tried reaching for my bacon until I handed it to her, “Babe, you’re eating the same thing as me.” I chuckled as she took her own little pink fork and took a bite from my pancakes.

“I’m gonna go freshen up.” Nikki muttered as he tried smiling at Arianna who still returned a mean little glare towards him. He frowned before leaving the kitchen.

“You know…you can’t be mad at him forever.” I told Arianna as she started eating off her own plate.

“Yes I can.” She stared at me, “…not nice.” She said, mouth full of sugary syrup and pancakes as I shook my head.

“Daddy’s nice and you know it. You’re not being nice to him, calling daddy mean names and not talking to him. He loves you Ari and he’s sorry for what he did.”

“Fine. No more poo poo head.” She giggled before she continued eating. I kissed her forehead before hopping off the chair. I walked down the hallway, yawing as I headed to my bedroom to straighten up and get dressed for the day.

After the morning routine was over and Arianna was ready for the day, she wanted her hair braided with one of her pink bows at the end of it. I slipped on a pair of shoes and slipped a jacket over my shoulders, wincing at the discomfort of putting my arm back in the sling.

“You could ask for help..” Nikki said, watching me struggle before coming over and helping anyways.

“Thanks.” I muttered, “Ari, you ready to go?” I asked her as she climbed off the couch and grabbed her backpack.

Arianna looked up at me and Nikki, “Will you walk me to my class?” She asked Nikki as he smiled at her before patting the top of her head, “Of course I will.”

When we arrived at her school a little while later, Arianna gave me a big kiss goodbye handing her a pink lunchbox right after, “I’ll pick you up later, okay?” I told her as she nodded and grabbed Nikki’s hand, tugging him towards the doors. I got back in the car, sitting down as I listened to the radio.

I glanced over seeing Nikki’s wallet was dropped on the floorboard. I reached down and grabbed it. I looked towards the doors and chuckled to myself. His wallet was stuffed full of cash. He’s such a hypocrite sometimes. He use to give me crap for always carrying around a lot of loose bills. I looked through his credit cards, he’s gotten two new ones that were a nice shiny black. I smiled at his goofy identification card, seeing him try to force a half assed smile. Nikki also had a guitar pick tucked inside the folds. A piece of paper was sticking out, but I realized it wasn’t a paper it was a picture. A picture of me and Arianna that Nikki had took when we spent the day at the boardwalk.

Through the tinted windows, I saw him coming back outside as I quickly stuffed the picture back in and tossed his wallet onto the seat, “Oh there it is. Thought I forgot it at your place.” Nikki grinned as he put his wallet in his back pocket.

“We have some where to be.” Nikki explained as he started driving away from the school.

I briefly glanced over, “Oh yeah? Where are we going?”

Nikki smiled at me, “You, Vanity Blackwood, have an appointment with your therapist.”

The smile fell from my face, turning into a scowl as I contemplated opening the door and jumping out, “You’re joking, right? Nikki c’mon.” I whined as I slumped back into the chair.

“Told you I was making you an appointment sweets. Did you think I was lying? You’re going and I’m gonna sit in there with you.”

*a little while later*

We sat side by side, knees resting against each other as we waited for my therapist to come in. I had my elbow perched up on the arm of the leather couch as I rested my cheek against my fist, watching the clock tick by slowly.

Nikki’s arm was wrapped around the back of the couch, his hand lightly rubbing my shoulder, “What time does Ari get out of school?”

With a monotone voice, “Three.”

I could heard the deep breath of annoyance as he took his arm and hand away from me and places his hands on his knees as he leaned over and grabbed some candy.

My ears perked up when I heard the door open, “Oh! I didn’t know we’d be having guests today. I’m Dr. Lilian Watson. Vanity, it is so nice to see you.”

“Yep, I’m here.” My voice oozed sarcastic cheer as I rolled my eyes, “This is Nikki.” I motioned to him as they shook each other’s hands.

“Oh…the Nikki. Vanity, I see there’s been some progress. What brings you in? It’s been a while since I’ve talked to you.”

I rolled my eyes at both the therapist and at Nikki, “He’s forcing me to be here

“She needed to come and see you.” Nikki butted in as I shook my head, growing more and more irritated.

Dr Watson adjusted in her chair, pushing her glasses up her nose, “Well Nikki, can you tell me why you think she needs to be here?”

Nikki chuckled, “She dislocated her shoulder last week due to driving under the influence of booze and narcotics. Busted her head open and had a bloody nose as well which is why I’m in New York to help her out but she’s not being appreciative of it.”

“Yeah, I see the sling.” She wrote some things down as I side eyed Nikki, “So, were still using?”

I reached for the bowl of candy on the table, “Not since the accident.” I shrugged and stuffed some m&ms into my mouth, “Incase you can’t tell, I’m being watched like a hawk. But I did stop for a while before then and then continued once I started hanging out with Jason again.”

“Who you shouldn’t even be hanging out with after last time.” Nikki butted in as I glared at him.

“I’m sorry? Are you my fucking husband?” I snapped, watching his eyebrows raise in surprise before turning away from me with a light shake of the head in disbelief.

“What happened last time?”

I groaned, “This was a bad idea.” I mumbled, eyes rolling as I sighed, “Jason got physical with me at the bar and Nikki beat him up for it. But Nikki doesn’t have room to talk when he was off getting high with the wife he was suppose to be divorcing when he should have been with his daughter.”

“I’ve gone to meetings in my free time, Vanity. Unlike you who just sits on this guys dick and gets fucking high!” Nikki fought back as he glared at me.

“I don’t do that!” I yelled at Nikki, feeling myself get worked up and by the smirk on his face, he knew it too.

“Okay, okay. Let’s just relax?” Dr Watson took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, “I don’t specialize in couples therapy, so Nikki in your opinion, can you tell me where the issues root from?”

Before Nikki could respond, “We’re not a couple actually so you don’t need to use that phrase.” I pointed out, my tone was extremely bitchy as Nikki let out a hushed Wow.

“Oh yeah? So I’ve just been hanging out here and taking care of you and making sure you’re good for no reason?” Nikki looked at me, “Seriously, not a couple?!?”

“Well we aren’t!!!” I fought back, “How could you even think we’re together?! Because we almost fucked that night?! You aren’t my boyfriend and you for sure aren’t my damn husband!”

In a raucous tone, “You and your fucking ten million reasons why! I had to go back! How many times do I have to explain myself?! I didn’t want to go back!”

“Uh maybe you could of told her to fuck off like the countless times you’ve told me to fuck off!” I continued to argue, my voice becoming hoarse from all the yelling, “Cause it’s all about me and Arianna.” I mocked his voice before rolling my eyes

“Because it is!”

I scoffed, “What? For a few more weeks until you find some new ditzy playboy?!”

Dr Watson cleared her throat as I sunk back into the leather couch, “Okay, let’s take a few breaths to get rid of some of this anger.”

Nikki reached for a handful of candy, stuffing his cheeks until they turned pink, “I’m not angry.” He mumbled as I scooted away from him.

“How is Arianna?” The therapist exhaled deeply as she looked at us with a forced smile.

“She’s fine, trying to get used to someone-“ I glanced over at Nikki “being around again. She’s in kindergarten now and is doing wonderful.”

Nikki piped up, “She’s a great kid, takes after her mother so wonderfully well.” He shook his head as he glared at me. I attempted to speak but he continued, “Coke angry Vanity and all of her fuckin tantrums don’t need to show up when Arianna is around. I grew up with a mother who used so I know what it’s like.”

“Yeah Vanitys mentioned a thing or two about you and your own addictions.”

“I am still trying to over come them everyday. I go to meetings, talk to my sponsor. I actually try.”

“And here comes the sob story.”

If Nikki wasn’t angry before I said that, then he sure as hell was now, “Sob story?! Are you fucking kidding me!?” Nikki grabbed the pillow I was holding onto and flung it across the room, “Me almost killing myself is a god damn sob story to you?! Fuck you, Vanity! You should know better than that! Christ sake, you’re apart of that sob story!”

“Nikki, I didn’t-“

“Didn’t mean it?! You never mean anything because you never fuckin do anything wrong, right?! Little miss princess Vanity with all her millions and millions of oil money can do no harm because everything about you is so god damn perfect, right?!” Nikki shouted, making me flinch at his loudness.

“What have I ever done to you? Except fuck Tommy more than once? Fucked Slash? What have I ever done to hurt you?” I questioned him as he stared at me.

“More than once?!”

“You had intercourse with Slash?” Dr Watson seemed genuinely surprised.

Through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, “You fucked Tommy? Again?! When! You said it was only one time!”

“I-I didnt… I didn’t…”

He arched an eyebrow, “Now you’re gonna lie about it?! Did you fuck him again or not? Tell me right now Vanity.”

“Vanity, it’s alright. Just be honest about it with Nikki. It’s always a smart thing to share your past sexual partners with your current one.”

“I’m not fucking him!” I pointed at Nikki, “I don’t want to touch him and I don’t want him touching me! He probably got some fucking disease from his little wife.”

Nikki was more outraged at the fact I would call him dirty then anything else I’ve been saying, “I am clean, Vanity! Unlike you since you like to hop from dick to fucking dick!”

I smacked his arm, “Don’t talk to me like that!”

“Hit me again Vanity. I promise you won’t like what I do.” Nikki threatened as I almost took him up on it.

“Okay! Okay, stop it!” Lillian raised her voice a tad before clearing her throat, “Vanity, just be honest with Nikki. Nobody is hitting anyone."

“I slept with Tommy when he first came to New York, when he found me. I was emotional and he was there for me. You should be happy he was there for me Nikki!”

He laughed, “Happy?! Happy that my best friend stuck his cock in you?! Why should I be happy that you opened your fucking legs for him again?!”

“So clearly the issues run deep..” The doctor mumbled as I stared at Nikki with tears in my eyes, “I am sorry!”

“Sorry for what exactly?! Sleeping with my best friend? Running from me because of what I did? Sticking a needle into your god damn arm? Or keeping Arianna from me out of spite?!”

“Out of spite? None of this is out of spite, Sixx! None of it!” I cried to him as he shook his head, running a ringed hand over this face.

“Really?! So five years you just couldn’t call or write or fuckin mention we have a kid! Had to find out from coming back here and bumping into you out of luck!”

I looked away from him and at the therapist, “It wouldn’t be hard if he stopped fucking up! Do you know how many times I’ve had to deal with his shit! To pick up the pieces of what he’s done!! Maybe instead of shoving shit up your nose and crying over me like Tommy said you were, you should’ve tried a bit harder!”

Nikki was at his wits end with me, “Tried?! I fucking called your mother every god damn day! I wrote a fucking letter to you only for it to be sent back to the house! Don’t tell me I didn’t try! I would’ve gotten on my god damn knees for you! You were the one that didn’t try! You say I tossed you to the side, no! You fucking tossed me to the side! You left me! You fucking left without a trace! Left everything behind! Everything we had together like I was fucking nothing to you!” I watched him as I saw tears falling down his reddened cheek as he continued yelling his frustrations at me.

“You left me, Vanity. I wanted to fix it. You said it would have been better for us if I had just fucking died when I overdosed. Do you have any clue how that made me felt? How that simple sentence ripped my heart to shreds. I would’ve been satisfied with just your siblings or your mom telling me I was going to be a father. You knew how bad I wanted to be a dad, to have a family with you, to watch you carry my child. You chose to be selfish, Vanity.”

Our eyes stayed locked on one another as we sat in a silence that was choking me, “I’m not selfish.”

“Bullshit Vanity.” Nikki croaked as his tongue stuck out to lick away salty tears at the corner of his lips, “It’s always about you and what you want. You wanted to keep her away from me, you said you could keep going as a single parent not that long ago but I’m sure you would just keep paying Clementine to babysit her.”

“I never wanted to keep her from you!�� My soft expression quickly turned into a scowl, “Do not bring Clem into this! She’s done nothing but help me!”

“Clementine practically takes care of her half the time while you’re off doing god knows what, Van! Don’t you see that?! I’d love to see how to it would’ve went if you didn’t find anyone.”

My eyes narrowed at him, “I’d be able to do it by myself! I don’t need you or anyone.”

My eyes stayed glued to his before I looked away when Dr Watson had put her notebook down, “I think we might be done with this session…”

“Yeah. That’s enough.” Nikki muttered as he fixed his shirt and grabbed his jacket from the table.

“Like I said, I’m not a couples therapist. But I think there’s a lot that needs to be uh, mended.”

He laughed, “No shit.” I quickly swatted his side, “Don’t be a dick. Thank you Dr Watson."

“Yeah, Thanks Watson.” Nikki spoke gruffly as we both started walking to the door, the therapist closing it right after us.

Nikki quickly grabbed my hand as he pulled me down the hallway. I saw his head shaking as he mumbled my name and profanities under his breath, “Ow, Sixx.” I winced as his rings were pinching my skin, “You’re hurting my hand.” I attempted to pull away from his grasp, he looked at me before opening up a door and shoving me inside, “What the fuck is your issue?!” I yelled as he flipped on the switch and slammed the door shut, blocking me from leaving even if I wanted too.

Nikki stepped closer to me, “You have a lot of fucking nerve acting like that in there.” I took a step back and bumped into the trash can Before I grabbed the counter of the bathroom to balance myself, “Just sitting there talking shit about Nikki and all the bad things he’s done to you.”

“I wasn’t talking shit!” I argued back, “And you started it! I was ready to have a nice peaceful session but no, you had to go and open your fucking-“ I instantly stopped talking when he closed the distance between us, roughly grasping my chin in the palm of his hand.

“There you go again! Blaming everything on me! Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking bitch I wouldn’t have to be an asshole to you! You ever think of that one, princess!?” Nikki forcefully pressed his lips to mine causing me to wince against the friction. Teeth scraping against my skin as I soon tasted a drop of blood on our lips, with a breath being deprived from my lungs as Nikki wrapped his hand around my throat, lightly squeezing as he did so.

I tried reaching for a fistful of his hair, on instinct alone his free hand captured mine in his as he held it behind my back. My nails scratched and pinched at his hand only for him to tighten his grip around my neck. A shaky, girly moan escaped through my lips as he took a step back, hand still wrapped around my throat as he broke out in an arrogant grin. His thumb traced over my bottom lip, wiping away the blood before he took it away and sucked it off himself.

I wrapped my fingers into his hair, roughly yanking his head down to continue the heated kiss. My tongue ran over his lip, before gently tugging on it with pearly whites. Nikki groaned as he placed his hands on my hips before his fingers found the button and zipper of my jeans. I pulled away from him, shoving his hands from me as I attempted to push my pants down. I let out a yelp before slapping my hand over my mouth when Nikki roughly grabbed me by my hair and dragged me to him, holding brunette strands by the root as he tilted my head back and pressed soft simple pecks to the front of my neck, “Let’s see if you remember who the fuck you belong too.”

The deep baritone of his voice sent chills down my spine as well as heat straight to my core. I tried to kiss him again but he refused to let me. His hand found my throat again, needy whimpers escaping. I followed his lips, mere inches from one another as his nose brushed against mine, “Nikki…” a pleading moan came from me as he chuckled darkly in return. His sage colored eyes were making my skin crawl in the best kinda way, knowing he was planning, thinking some of the most dirtiest things. I let my hands wander, landing on a silver buckle as I undid it and let it hang loosely on his hips.

Nikki backed me up until I hit the sink counter. He towered over me. one hand at the base of my neck, forcing me to keep eyes on him. I felt cold rings running down my body as he pulled the thin blue fabric down from between my legs.. An attempt to squeeze my thighs together due to the coolness failed when Nikki brought an open palm down on my ass. I closed my eyes before looking back up at him.

“Look at those pretty eyes just begging for me. Thought you didn’t need me, Princess?” I frowned at his words only for him to let out a laugh. His middle finger traced over my lip as I welcomed it, letting my tongue roll over the rough pad before sucking on the tip. Nikki added another finger to the mix, middle and ring now as I gave it the same treatment, “Dirty fucking girl.” He smirked in my face as he took his fingers from my mouth and placed them between my legs. My head tried dropping to watch what he was doing only for him to yank me by my hair, “Eyes on me. Only me.”

My lips parted when his fingers skillfully invaded my body, knuckle fucking deep. It was abrupt and sudden when his fingers began moving at a fast pace inside of me, fingers curling at just the right spot. The vulgarity of the sound of his palm slapping against my body bounced off the tranquil and zen picture frames that hanged on the wall.

“O-oh my god.” My voice was reduced to a whimper as he finally let his lips meet mine. I rested my hand on his shoulder, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt as I broke the kiss, “Nikki!! Fu-fuck!” I cried out for him, feeling him push another finger inside of me as he poked and prodded at the bundle of nerves inside of me. My eyes screwed shut, feeling them roll into the back of my head behind closed lids as I felt myself fall off the edge of pleasure.

“That’s it baby. Come apart for me, let me get a fucking taste.” Nikki relentlessly abused my insides until his hand was drenched with sticky wetness. I attempted to regain composure, pushing hair out of my face as I watched him suck and lick his fingers clean. Tattooed fingers engulfed themselves around chocolate strands of hair as he pulled my face towards his, warm and soft lips finding mine.

“Still taste so god damn sweet baby girl.” Nikki moaned as he grabbed me by my hips, roughly pulling me away from him before bending me over the counter, hair tangled in a fist as my cheek laid against the cool tile.

I closed my eyes, attempting to catch my breath as I listened to the sound of a zipper being pulled down followed by a sickening slap against my skin. I chewed on my bottom lip as I brought my head up, “Watch me.” Nikki growled as he yanked my head up a bit more. His free hand was wrapped around the base of his cock, giving long and slow strokes to himself.

My lips parted with a silent moan that never tumbled out as I felt Nikki press the tip to my entrance before pushing in. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I felt him fill me, completely. I noticed his bangs covering his eyes, but I could tell he was looking down at the intrusion of my body.

“O-oh fuck, Van.” Nikki moaned, sliding his cock out slowly slowly before sliding back into me “Fuck me.” He groaned, taking his hand away from my hair and digging his fingers into my hip His pace started increasing as his hips smacked against my bottom, fucking me harder and deeper.

Tattooed fingers found themselves curled over my shoulder, nails roughly scraping at my skin. My hips naturally started rocking into each of his thrusts, feeling my insides clench around his throbbing length. I closed my eyes, moans of his names falling off my tongue. An arm of his snaked around my body with a hand dipping underneath my shirt as he grabbed my tits, finger tips pinching and twisting my nipples.

“You feel so good, Nikki.” I breathed out, feeling his hand twist into my hair again. My neck crained back, his lips press against my forehead as he thrusted into me hilt deep. He moved my hair to the side, pressing rough and wet opened mouth kisses to my shoulder before nipping at the soft and delicate skin.

“You still take my cock so well, Princess. So fucking tight and wet for me. So…fuckin perfect.” Nikki breathed into my ear, nibbling gently as he did so. I turned my head just a bit, letting my lips find his before he broke the kiss and pulled out of me.

Nikki dragged me into a stall, making the door bang against the hinges as he sat down and pulled me over his hips.

“This isn’t sanitary.” I mumbled, “Ow!” A rude and sharp slap against my ass cheek ended all complaints I had.

“…don’t give a fucking shit.” Nikki stated in a husky tone as he gripped my hips, fingers digging into the skin roughly. I wrapped my hand around his throbbing member as I hovered over him, slowly sliding down onto it before I gripped his shoulder.

Pornographic moans fell from both of our lips as he buried himself inside of me. I started grinding my hips into his, feeling Nikki accommodate himself in the most delicious way. Nikki Sixx being the only man to ever do so.

Nikki cupped my jaw, pulling my face towards his as our lips touched in a slow and deliberate kiss. His tongue found mine as I tasted the fruity gum he was chewing on. His hips started thrusting up into me at a slow pace, “You feel that baby?” Nikki broke the kiss, his bright green eyes borrowing holes into mine. I nodded my head in a sheepish manner, “That’s all yours.”

I wrapped my free arm around his shoulder, leaning into his chest as I focused on his movements inside of me. He reached between our bodies, fingers dancing around my clit at a rapid pace. I closed my eyes, feeling myself clench around him. I knew he was close too by the way he twitched inside of me.

“Go on baby, cum all over this fuckin cock. Let me have it.” Nikki’s voice was strained as he tried holding off to let me hit my peak first.

“Nik-“ I moaned loudly, only for Nikki to put his hand over my mouth when the bathroom door opened up. My eyes rolled as he continued to thrust into me at a slower pace, smirking at me when I felt myself cum as I moaned into his hand.

“Shit..” Nikki whispered as he pulled out of me, taking his cock into his hand and giving himself a few rough pumps before he hit his end. I sat in his lap still, watching him jack himself off for a few more minutes until he relaxed onto the toilet he was perched up on.

We both heard the water start running as whoever came into the bathroom was singing to themselves, “Look.” Nikki whispered as he wrote ‘V&N’ on the stall with his own cum. I covered my mouth to keep my laughter in as I shoved his shoulder playfully.

“So romantic.” I mouthed before getting off his lap and pulling up my jeans and panties. I stepped out of the stall, the other woman smiling at me through the mirror as I washed my hands and fixed my unruly hair, wincing when my fingers brushed past my scalp. The women was taking her sweet time as she started checking her make up and fixing her own hair so I decided to leave the bathroom and waited out in the hallway.

My eyes went wide when I heard yelling coming from the bathroom, “Sorry!” Nikki yelled back as he stepped out of the bathroom, glaring at me, “I thought she left! Not you!” He shook his head at me as he reached for my hand.

“So, you wanna grab some food?” He questioned as he held the office door open for me and we stepped outside.

I wrapped my hand around his bicep as we walked to my car, "Yeah, I would like that." I smiled up at him, Nikki lowering his head down to give me a quick peck on the lips.

Nikki helped me into the car, closing it as I was situated. He started driving to wherever he decided to take us. He rested his hand on my thigh as I intertwined our fingers together.

I hope this meant good things were coming for us.

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themusicplayedherlife · 4 years

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WIP: Our Song

a/n: this is the actual prologue to the story that is only three chapters in. ive been working on this since 2017 and even made this lovely header. i will eventually finish this story, but first i have to finish some sugar and/or unrequited, until then, this story is being written slowly

October 12th

Stark Records

Manhattan, NY

Steve Rogers is a competent man; a man of many talents, he likes to think. A man that has transcended every generation of music and made it his own.

...Okay, maybe that statement is an exaggeration. To his credit, he took many courses on music throughout college and has produced and written music of all genres; and has gained a newfound understanding through learning and experiences. So, he is a competent man with many accomplishments, but why does it feel like he never has any of that in his corner whenever he sits across from his old pal and business partner, Tony Stark?

“Steve,” he starts, removing his dark shades with a deep sigh. “I'm worried. Everything you've been producing has been good, it has been--”

“But it’s not good enough. I know.” He does know, he’s constantly being told by the rest of the board. Their words are as annoying as a poorly written chorus.

Tony rubs his eyes with his thumb and index, a clear sign that he’s exhausted. Working in the music industry can do that to a person, drain their energy until they’re practically dead.

He remembers a time when it wasn’t like that. When they felt excitement every time they found the perfect chord, or the perfect lyric. When they’d be able to sit in front of their workstation and record and edit without a problem. But that was before the board got involved, before money began to be an issue.

He wonders if Tony remembers too.

“Look, the board isn’t happy.” Tony stops trying to wipe away his exhaustion—realizing it’s impossible—to look him in the eye. “I’m trying my best to keep them off your ass, but I don’t know how long I can keep doing that.” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his desk made out of glass. “If you can bring me one song, just one simple minded song that they will like, you can continue doing your emo ballads that you like so much.”

He knows Tony isn’t trying to be condescending, but his jaw still ticks. “And what if I fail?”

Tony makes a face, the kind of face that looks like he just bit into a piece of fruit and was completely disappointed to find it isn’t as sweet as he hoped. “You’re talented, Steve. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t have brought you on board all those years ago. I have faith that you can do it.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Maybe.” Tony leans back, making the chair squeak loudly. “But I do. Why don’t you take the next couple of weeks off to work on new material, huh? Spend some time with your kid while you’re at it. I know you’ll find a spark of inspiration somewhere.”

October 13th

Hydra Records

Manhattan, NY

You sit. Tense. Unsure.

Brock taps his fingers against his desk, listening to the music playing from his speakers—your song. It’s catchy, the beat steady and rhythmic; the melody and harmony twirling and complementing each other well, and one of your best songs yet. You spent countless nights working on it; even risked getting noise complaints from your neighbors (and a scolding from Daisy) and landlord to make it the best it could be. The people you showed it to said it was amazing, the next summer hit, but Brock’s expression isn’t exactly agreeing with their lingering compliments.

“We got drunken hearts and we're dancing more than enough—“

The song ends prematurely with a click from Brock. You don’t have to wait for him to open his mouth to know what he’s about to say—he hates it. “I’ve heard better from you when we were in college, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. There it is. That stupid condescending term of endearment he used on everyone he thought wasn’t worth his time. Including you.

Why did you date him again?

Your eyebrow raises involuntarily. “If you listened to the—“

“No need. If the chorus didn’t catch my attention, then there’s no point.” He disconnects your phone from his computer and hands it back to you with a barely concealed grin. “Don’t you think you’re way out of your element here, sweetheart?”

You clench your fists. You really shouldn’t be surprised at how demeaning and rude he’s being. Brock has always been this way, even back in college. Most people let it slide because of his charming smile and very manipulative reassurance, yourself (unfortunately) included. It took many nights of crying and many therapy sessions to realize the kind of toxic person he was—is. “Excuse me?”

“I heard your jingle for Shadow insurance,” he coos, as if praising a child. “You should really stick to the jingle business, sweetheart, you’re good at! Besides, full fledged songs don’t seem to be your forte. Leave the real music production to the real men.”

The urge to slam your closed fist into his face grows with every word that he vomits. “You know what?” You pick up your bag and stuff your phone into it as you rise from your seat with every intent to storm out of his office. “This was a mistake.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t get all defensive! Are you on your menstrual—“

Before he can finish his abhorrish question you accidentally swing your bag with enough force and span to knock down his coffee all over his keyboard. “Oh my—oops. My bad.”

Brock lets out a frustrated shout, calling in his overworked assistant to clean up his desk. They run into the room alarmed, wide eyes roaming around the room before settling on you and then his boss.

“What are you doing just standing there, you moron? Clean this up!”

They let out a strangled sound, jumping on their feet. “Yessir!”

In the chaos of Brock calling his assistant an idiot as they wipe his desk with some kind of cloth—“That’s my cashmere sweater, you idiot! Can’t you do anything right?”—you walk out of his office with your head held high and fists shaking with barely concealed anger.

#steve rogers x reader #wip #wip wednesday

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decent0distraction · 4 years

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I need to talk about this cause I have no friends and my roommates are mean.

Here's context: https://decent0distraction.tumblr.com/post/615899981117800448/okay-so-im-not-saying-that-i-scrapped-my

Here's some details I just wanna talk about:

- Edward is written as depressed and suicidal, but in the way that he just doesn't want to live, but isn't necessarily trying to die. We cover this in the first two chapters.

- Speaking of the first two chapters, romance doesn't come in for a while. I didn't like how fast everything was in canon; we go from girl sees vampire, vampire obsesses over girl, girl meets vampire, girl and vampire are immediately together.

- The beginning of the story focuses on Edward dealing with thoughts of how he's nothing but a monster and that he sees himself as dead, or should have died. Sad boi hours ™

- And he proceeds to ignore his thirst and pretty much stops hunting altogether. Carlisle doesn't push, but he does try to subtly put Edward in situations where he has to hunt (telling him he needs to go with Jasper after school to avoid any issue/calling him out of school for an hour so he has an excuse/no option but to go)

- Edward's deterioration in health is purely my stupid imagined way a vampire might slowly start to "die" from starvation

- His vision will blur and he'll get dizzy if he moves too fast or pushes himself too far

- He's easily tired

- At one point, he can't read minds without getting headaches

- In the first chapter, instead of hunting like Carlisle intended for him to do, Edward just plans to sit in the woods for an hour and just vibe

- But he hears, never actually sees, a wolf; reads it's mind and it thinks about killing him

- And of course, the iron deficiency equivalent of vampire starvation gets the worse of him and he almost passes out, the 'wolf' disappearing

- The wolf is supposed to hint towards Edward meeting Jacob and the pack, and a later issue, but for now it's just for Edward to suffer and question his sanity

- Edward almost passes out in front of Jasper and our angsty boi goes all big brother on our sad boi

- He literally carries Edward downstairs, catches him a rabbit, and gets him to take it

- Wholesome content = Jasper looking out for Edward and keeping him alive

- In the first chapter, Jasper convinces Edward to go with him when he goes to buy a new motorcycle, which was hand built by our wolf boi

- And in the second chapter, Jasper and Edward walk through the woods to the reservation

- Edward is still weak and as a result clumsy from not eating, so it's a lot of Jasper helping him over roots and stuff and so wholesome ✨

- Edward is cold, cause his vampire defenses are weak af rn, and idk just go with it. Jasper gives him his jacket and it's big on him cause Edward's a bottom in this story (you can NOT change my mind)

- Jasper is low-key pissed about what Edward is doing to himself and they talk about and Jasper kind of yells at our sad boi and Edward realizes he's starving himself because he knows it's slowly killing him

- Jasper and Edward forgive each other and they make it to the reservation

- They meet Jacob, who stares at Edward

- Edward thinks it's because he looks strange; skin hanging off bone and Jasper's jacket pulled around his pale af body

- Yeah, no, sweetie. It's because he thinks you're beautiful and all that poetic shit

- "Here's where (s)he meets prince charming. But (s)he won't discover that it's him till chapter 3." (Maybe)

- I low-key hint that Sam was the wolf in the woods, but I might plot twist that shit. Idk

- (Insert explanation about Edward's body rejecting the rabbit blood here)

- Jasper calls Carlisle, takes our sad boi home

- And I wrote this stupid scene where Carlisle is really cold towards Edward and asks Jasper instead of Edward if he ate that day. He then proceeds to give Edward an IV of nutrients mixed with venom, to start to get Edward healthy again, idk

- I just really wanted a scene where Carlisle goes all doctor on his son and they become his hospital, because so far, Edward has been sort of closed off and cold towards the Cullen family and I felt like I was making them too estranged

- Edward isn't magically not depressed or suicidal anymore, but he does start to try again and this time, he has his family to help him

- Jacob has already shifted in this. So have Leah and Seth

- This means he's all muscle and short hair, and also I have this scene I really like where Edward sees a photo of Jacob with his long hair and he calls him cute and Jacob gets flustered, I'm FINE

- Jacob is told to keep an eye on the Cullens, so he befriends Edward

- But he high key likes the "weird Cullen boy"

- It's cute, ok?

- Edward slowly lets Jacob in, not understanding why Carlisle keeps warning him to stay away from Black and that reservation

- The wolves get restless and dangers arise, Jacob trying to keep Edward away from the war that's been going on between their kinds for centuries

- Edward is kinda naive to that kind of thing, until Jacob transform in front of him and I can't decide if they fight about lies and stuff

That's what I got so far that I can reveal without spoiling too much 😊

Tell me what you guys think???

#twilight #rewrite #rewriting #twilight rewrite #twilight rewriting #twilight memes #edward cullen #jacob black #edward cullen x jacob black #edward cullen/jacob black #edward x jacob #edward/jacob #twilight memes but i'm serious #i'm serious

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