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batsycline69 · 3 days

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Head Above Ground, Feet in the Grave

Summary: You get a tattoo from Jason and realize your first impression may not have been spot on

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Words: 5,576

Warnings: needles, profanity, canon-typical violence, reader has tattoos but is otherwise not described, jason doesn’t know how to flirt.

“So. Whatcha reading?” he asks over the buzz of his needle gun. Your confused look is enough get him talking again. “Saw you with a book out front.”

As soon as he stepped out into the front thirty-five minutes after your appointment was supposed to begin, as peeved as you were, you couldn’t deny he was attractive. One of his broad shoulders leaned into the wall, his thick, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. Dark curls with a patch of white at the front.

“Oh, it’s Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier,” you reply, a little surprised the guy built like a brick shithouse was asking about your reading. Then again, he’s probably just trying to make conversation.

Jason just nods.

Maybe he isn’t trying to make conversation.

The bad news is, up close, he’s even more handsome. Now you can see the little scar that angles through his eyebrow and another that curves up along his cheek. His eyes are intense as he works, his absurdly large hand has a firm grip on your forearm, guiding you as he works. He smells like cigarettes, but only just, and what you can assume is the lingering smell of the timeworn leather jacket sprawled across the chair in the corner. And all of this is bad news because this guy is obviously bad news. How can he not be, right?

It’s just this feeling, one that you couldn’t shake as soon as he sauntered towards you, the smell of cigarette smoke lingering on his worn black t-shirt. Like he’s too cool for you. Even as he’s permanently etching a skeletal bird into your arm, there’s this air about him you can’t quite place.

Before he led you back to his station, you were so certain there was going to be some sort of bikini-clad model plastered to the wall. But yet, the space is surprisingly empty. There’s a little corkboard leaning against a small table with old designs thumb-tacked to the board and not much else.

“How long have you been working here?” you ask.

Despite asking, you already kind of know the answer.

You’ve been following the shop’s Instagram for a while now. You remember the post introducing Jason, the carousel of photos demonstrating his work. Not that you’d tell him right now, but you had fallen in love with his style as soon as you saw it. The sure, thick lines. The moody shading. Bones and knives and bugs. He had no Instagram of his own for his work that you could find; only the posts in the shop with the caption ‘by Jay.’

“Couple months,” Jason replies. “I was traveling around for a while before. This is the first steady place I’ve worked.”

“Oh, wow, that’s cool. Where were you before?” you ask. It’s small talk, and you hate it, but the lack of conversation is uncomfortable in a way that usually isn’t the case. Silence doesn’t bother you. His silence does.

You wonder if his home lacks as much personality as his station. You imagine his apartment is the kind with the mattress sitting on the floor, TV on top of a folding table, and a refrigerator full of cheap beer. Something that doesn’t feel completely moved into.

He gives a small shrug of his broad shoulders. “All around,” he replies.

Even small talk seems to be off the table.

You give a curt nod of your head. A couple minutes pass, and you can’t take it anymore. “Sorry, you mind if I grab my book real fast?”

Jason nods in return, pulling the gun away. “Go for it.”

God, you feel him watching you as you slip off the table, heading towards your bag on the little couch in the corner. Why is he watching? Why is this so awkward? Is it you? Is this guy just that standoffish? You pull out your worn bookand get back into position on the table.

“You good?” he asks, his intense eyes still trained on you.

“Yeah, all good,” you say, holding the book open with one hand as the buzzing starts back up again.

This is pathetic.

Jason has spent the last few years spending his time around the worst of the worst. He’s been with assassins, arms dealers, and soldiers so bad, even the U.S. Military didn’t want them, and yet, he’s fumbling just because someone cute is reading classic literature.

Fuck.

He’s supposed to be better than this. Ever since he got back into Gotham two months ago, he’s been making deals with the worst of the worst—as far as drug dealers go—without breaking a sweat, and yet holding a conversation with you turns him into Mr. Darcy. He’s blowing it, and he cares that he’s blowing it.

At least everyone thinks he’s dead. If this had gotten out to anyone, he’d die again.

It’s been five years since he was resurrected. A couple of weeks have passed since he flew back into Gotham with another one of Talia’s connections, this time intending to stay for good. He found a little tattoo shop near Crime Alley. Close enough to keep tabs on everything, but not so close that he’d be crossing paths with Batman regularly. The last thing he needs is to run into Bruce while trying to come up on top of Gotham’s underworld. Not until everything was ready.

That’s his world. Swept off the street and recruited for a war that wasn’t even his, not really. That’s just what he was sold: security to a kid fending for himself.

Bruce may have believed he had something to show Jason about Gotham, but this city raised him more than anything. Without a stable place to call home, the city’s streets were the substitute. What more did Bruce have to teach him when Jason had already huddled for warmth in these alleys? Ran from cops, knew all the hiding spots. What did Bruce have to offer when Jason already saught comfort in a place where comfort died? In a place where hope was trying to grow on salted earth. A place so haunted, it’s more ghost than city.

Jason was made for Gotham.

After he died, Gotham fell to ruins in the greatest earthquake she’s ever seen. An anomaly. The world wanted to watch Gotham burn, abandon the city and everyone remaining inside it. Leave her buried in the fate the world deemed appropriate for a city so infected that everyone around suffered.

He knows what it means to come back again, maybe when staying gone was what should have been done.

While he learned how to kill, he learned how to tattoo. Bruce always went on about the importance of keeping their identities safe; he chose his playboy routine, and Jason chose this.

It started before Bruce even took him in. One of the older kids he used to sell stolen car parts to gave him a stick ‘n poke in the back of his dad’s auto shop. It’d only been a few weeks after his mom died. Bruce saw it within a few days of living at the manor. He didn’t comment, but Jason saw the scowl when Bruce saw the shitty skull on his ankle. He didn’t approve, and that made his chosen path all the sweeter.

In London, the guys he was staying with tattooed each other to pass the time. That’s how it all really started. He watched their hands as they worked, watched the way the ink shot into the skin. He gave his first tattoo in the seedy back room of some haunt for scumbags. He had yet to feel at home within his body again, like it was just on loan. Like his reanimation was contingent on something that could be taken away at any time.

But he kept living. And he picked up tattooing fairly quickly. He gave plenty of shitty tattoos to men whose lives ran off of fucking over innocent people. Some of them wouldn’t even live to regret his uneven lines. A good number of them, Jason watched die.

None of that, however, negates the fact that he still can’t have a conversation with you.

Every so often, he spares a glance at you as you read. You’re holding the book with one hand, awkwardly turning the page with your pinky in a way that he knows won’t last long. He’s trying to rack his brain for something, anything, to talk to you about once you need a break from your position.

When his moment finally comes, he clears his throat.

“You ever read any Virginia Woolf?” he asks.

He’s going to spoil his whole ‘asshole tattoo artist’ persona because he’s not supposed to be reading tragic modernist writers, but he can’t bring himself to fall into his usual routine. He wants to hide behind the metaphorical mask he wears when he’s not wearing his literal mask, but he just fucking can’t with you.

He doesn’t know you. You’re just someone who booked with him a few months ago. You’re a civilian, and he is supposed to be getting ready for his Gotham takeover. Now isn’t the time. He’s got work to do.

Unsurprisingly, you seem caught off guard by his question when you look up from your book. You try to regain your composure. You seem like someone who wants to be polite like that. Jason’s eyes land on your finger as it slips into your book to hold your place.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’ve read a couple of hers.”

Jason gives a single nod of his head. He breathes as if steadying his aim to shoot. “I’m reading Mrs. Dalloway right now,” he says.

If you were someone he had to threaten, it would be going better than this. He could get you to tell him all of your secrets in under a minute no problem. But he doesn’t actually have to know how to do any of this to know that’s the wrong way to go about it. Besides, how could he forgive himself if he brought you into Red Hood’s world? You don’t belong there.

“Are you much of a reader then?” you ask.

Jason recognizes it for what it is. You’re holding out a hand, practically guiding him into a conversation just like you’ve tried so many times. You notice he’s trying too.

His lip quirks up a bit at the corner. “Yeah, I am. But don’t tell anyone. If they figure out I’m not an idiot, they may ask me to help out more.”

You graciously laugh at his joke.

He likes your laugh. It’s soft, like your skin. He’s tried to not think about it, but he has noticed. He knows you’re going to take good care of the bird carcass he’s tattooing.

When you reached out and told him what you wanted, he knew he couldn’t possibly turn the idea down. He did always have a fucked up sense of humor.

You’ll never know what makes this funny. He can’t do that to you. Maybe you can know Jason the tattoo artist, but you can’t know Red Hood.

Jason looks at you with a softness you miss when you glance away for a minute. “I’ve got a Metamorphosis tattoo over here,” he says, briefly raising the arm holding yours down.

You turn your head, trying to get a look of his Kafka tattoo, and Jason feels a little bit of warmth growing in his chest, even if he desperately wishes he didn’t. He’s getting way ahead of himself like a kid. It’s going to hurt that much more when you realize all the reasons you shouldn’t get involved with him. He shouldn’t be drawing attention to himself. He shouldn’t be getting distracted. This job isn’t for him to make connections with avid readers; he’s here to know what’s happening and when.

For all he knows, you could be a spy, aware of the moves he’s trying to make. Could work for the Penguin. But he’s aware that’s a Bruce level paranoid thought, and he’s not proud to admit that. His ties to Bruce are supposed to be severed forever.

Two hours pass far less painfully than you were expecting. Not in the literal sense, because your arm has started to get sore, but in the sense that you and Jason are finally actually talking, more or less. You take a break, trying to get the blood flow back into your arm from being at an angle for so long.

Your stomach started rumbling half an hour ago, and now you’re scrolling through your phone, chatting with Jason on what you should order. He says by the time food would get here, he’d likely be finished up.

Jason’s already told you he doesn’t do a lot of delivery. He says it’s because things are always fresher at the restaurant.

After the last couple of hours spent talking literature, you know your first impression of him was wrong—there’s a joke about books and their covers somewhere in there—but be that as it may, you still haven’t quite figured him as the sort of guy that’s going to be overly snobby about food.

He says he cooks, and you believe him, more because you like to indulge in the thought of him knowing his way around a kitchen. You also just want to believe it for the sake of justifying the crush you feel creeping in every time he shifts your arm.

You’re not going to hold your breath hoping he opens up to you, but you can tell he’s someone with a story. Someone with history. And that’s something you can respect, because you’ve got your own past you’d rather not shell out just because your tattoo artist is hot. That doesn’t stop your mind from wandering though, trying to fill in the blanks.

Maybe he did some sort of stint in the military. That’s your first guess, at least. You didn’t get any more information on the tattoos he’d done ‘all over,’ and he doesn’t talk about it anymore, so you can’t really figure out anything more than that. You also consider the fact that it’s Gotham, and shit just happens. It’s not your right to meddle in whatever tragedy this city has doled out for him.

“One of the apprentices orders delivery here a lot,” Jason says, and you roll your eyes.

“That’s not helpful, nor does it answer my question,” you say. “Even if you don’t get things delivered, you still have to know what’s good around here, right? You’re not bringing a little brown bag lunch to work every day.”

“And what if I do?” Jason asks. His voice is low, almost like he’s daring you. The features on his handsome face are serious, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes that hints he’s teasing you. And damn those eyes. You’re thankful he’s been spending the majority of your appointment staring down at your arm, because you’re not sure you’d survive two hours of looking at him, seeing where the thin ring of blue around his iris before it bleeds into vivid green.

You laugh. “Then I’d admire your dedication.”

You think he’s mostly being difficult because you offered to buy him food, a perfectly normal thing to do. But explaining to him that you’ve offered to everyone you’ve gotten a tattoo from doesn’t seem to change his mind. He’s stubborn, that much you can tell.

As you continue to scroll your phone, silence settles between the two of you. The silence doesn’t feel so oppressive this time, not weighted by awkwardness and uncertainty. Now it feels like a surrender. Neither of you bring up the beginning of the appointment. Not how he was late, not the tension that seemed to linger between the two of you, not how convinced you were that he actually hated the fact that you were sitting in his session.

“The fries at Wally’s are the best in Gotham.”

His voice comes from behind you, and you jump, turning over your shoulder quickly. He’s peering over your shoulder, eyes fixed on the screen of your phone. You hadn’t even heard him get up from his stool. Last you’d looked his way, he was sitting across from you.

You spit out a curse. “When did you get back there?” you ask, clutching your chest with overdramatic flair.

“What, you didn’t see me get up?” he asks.

You scoff. “No, I didn’t see you get up. What are you, some kind of fucking ghost?”

And Jason laughs.

At the best of the times, you consider yourself a relatively dignified individual. Maybe it’s a bit of flattery, but regardless, that’s what you’d like to believe. And yet, there’s something so incredibly rare about the sound of Jason’s laughter, something that makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. It’s like hearing something long forgotten. Like catching the song of a bird long thought extinct. This isn’t the playful scoff of laughter like when you’d said maybe Northanger Abbey was your favorite Jane Austen book, and he’d said you seemed more like an Elizabeth Bennett than a Catherine Morland; this seems like something secret. Something reserved.

Even if the sound makes your stomach flip, your foul language hardly seems funny enough to warrant such a laugh. Your silly off-handed joke doesn’t seem worthy of the burst of laughter that bubbles up from his wide chest.

“I think the hunger’s getting to you,” Jason replies finally when the laughter settles. He nudges his head back towards your phone to get back on topic. “Wally’s is good.”

You have to yank yourself from your thoughts and will yourself to nod. “Yeah, okay,” you say, feeling like such a loser for the way a single laugh could knock you off your track so quickly. You go back to scrolling through the menu to give yourself something other than gawk at him. “So fries. What else is good?” you ask, not daring to raise your eyes.

Jason crosses back over to his stool and sits. Your face gets hot as you feel self-consciousness creep up thinking maybe you’d been obvious, worried you’ll scare him off. But before you know it, he’s naming off his favorite things. And yeah, maybe you bought more than you alone could eat, and maybe you got the burger he spent a few minutes gushing about. If he doesn’t want it now, he can save it for later.

But nearly an hour later, you have a whole spread of junk food in Jason’s station and a finished bird skeleton plastic wrapped on your arm. Jason rolls his eyes at your generosity, and you threaten to eat everything you bought all by yourself, but he eats the burger and steals the fries you jokingly told him to keep his hands off of.

“So can I ask why you were so late?” you ask.

You’re toeing your boundaries. Maybe you’re intentionally trying to press your luck. Part of you knows you maybe shouldn’t ask. But you do it anyway.

Jason looks up from his burger, wiping a small smear of ketchup off his lip. “You’re gonna think I’m an asshole.” He smirks when he sees you quirk your eyebrow. He was thirty-five minutes late; of course you already think he’s an asshole. At least he’s a good sport about it. “I was out smoking.”

“Mm,” you say with a mockingly serious nod of your head. “Leaning up against a wall, cigarette in one hand, Mrs. Dalloway in the other. I guess you must be so cool I have to immediately forgive you,” you say sarcastically.

“Shut up.”

You smirk and go back to eating your food, unaware of Jason’s subtle gaze your way now that your attention has been diverted.

Jason’s used to a somewhat infrequent eating schedule, otherwise known as he rolls out of bed half an hour before he’s supposed to be at the shop, which doesn’t give him much time to eat. And by the time he’s done with his shift, he’s usually starved. He tries to eat an hour before kicking anyone’s ass so he doesn’t cramp up, so that involves him cramming whatever leftovers he has in the fridge into his mouth the second he gets back to his apartment. Then, he goes back out to work.

He’s become somewhat of a late night chef, putting together whatever he can make as quickly and easily as possible. The sort of skills he’d picked up when he was all on his own, trying to keep himself fed from whatever was available, doing whatever he could to make the best of a bad situation. Shoplifting butter and pasta, crushing up old Corn Flakes in a bag with a hammer to put on top. It was something his mom had done. Something he didn’t want to give up.

For the past two hours, he’s been hoping you’ll say something stupid, like how cool you think Batman is.Instead, he finds you kind in a way he doesn’t really see that often. You tolerate his shit to a certain point, and you push back when he goes too far.

People are scared of Jason, hood on or not. And they should be. They see his scars, his tattoos, his sheer size, and they cross the street. They turn their eyes as he buys bread at the grocery store. They can see him for what he is. But for some reason, you don’t. At least not now.

He’s mapping out his plan of how to take over the city, and you’re giving him shit for being late to an appointment for a job he only has for information. The fact that he met you is just a blip in the greater scheme of things, and yet that’s going to be what he walks away from today thinking about.

A guy came into the shop earlier. A local dealer. Jason played cool, pretended he didn’t have an idea who the guy was. This lowlife didn’t need to know Jason already knew where he picked up his supplies. He’d asked if the guy had any plans for the day, as if Jason didn’t already know about a shipment coming in late tonight. Jason’s plans for the evening had been clear. All he had to do was get through one more appointment.

Except that appointment had been yours.

The shop is closed now. A few stations away, one of Jason’s coworkers is still working. In the lull as you both eat, the faint buzzing of the needle and music playing from the speakers up front. Even if Jason wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s comfortable with you, there’s something of a surrender in the time you spend together.

You don’t know the things he’s going to do once you leave, and you wouldn’t assume them of him. What are you seeing in him because it’s sure as shit not something he’s ever seen himself.

At some point, Jason knows he’s going to fuck it all up. You’ll probably get ready to leave, and he’ll say something as you walk out the door that will make you question all of this. Make you second guess this good opinion of him you’ve managed to come up with. It’ll be for your own good.

His eyes drift over to your arm, your bicep still wrapped up in plastic. He can still feel the warmth of your skin lingering on his palm.

For so long, he’d been used to the dull cold of the apartment he squatted in, frigid air seeping in through neglected walls. As hard as he tries not to, he remembers arriving at Wayne Manor for the first time. He’d forgotten home could be so warm.

The warmth of your arm felt like that.

Since coming back in Gotham, he’d given plenty of tattoos, touched plenty of arms. Body heat is body heat, except when it’s yours.

“Where do you go from here?” Jason asks, looking up from his burger.

You shrug your shoulders. “Home, probably. Gonna get that good post-tattoo sleep.”

It’s cold out. You’re bundled up in your coat, aware of the tenderness of your arm where the fabric brushes up against the flesh.

You’re walking towards your train stop. The sounds of sirens echo somewhere in the distance. Purple light filters out through the blinds of one of the apartments you pass, loud bass temporarily overpowering the distant wail of emergency vehicles for a moment as you walk by, until it fizzles back out into quiet. As the music fades, you hear the sound of a couple arguing from an apartment somewhere up above you.

Across from the stairs up to the station is a bar, patrons hanging around outside smoking cigarettes and laughing. You can feel a huddle of men watching you as you move, but you don’t glance their way, just make your way up the stairs.

Yellow-tinged lights line the station, a lamp every fifteen feet or so. From what you can see in the beams of light weakly dispersing from the streetlamps, you’re alone. You find a spot under a nice shelter, though nice is relative considering the lingering smell of piss and obscene graffiti on the walls, but it’s not out in the open where anyone stumbling onto the stop will find you.

The light above you flickers sporadically. You wish there was somewhere else you could wait.

Jason hadn’t seemed thrilled that you were going out to wait for the train all on your own, but you assured him, somewhat indignant, you could handle yourself.

“You sat really well,” he’d said, and you couldn’t help but entertain the idea of inviting him along on the train with you, but you were not going to stoop to that level.

The sounds of approaching footsteps reminds you to keep your focus. You can kick your feet about Jason once you get back to your apartment.

Three guys stumble up the stairs. And just your fucking luck, you’re pretty sure they’re the guys from outside the bar. They’re laughing, and their voices carry from the opposite side of the tracks. You hope they’re going northbound, that they’ll have no reason to cross the tracks. You keep your eyes fixed away from them, down the tracks, now feeling even more impatient for the arrival your train, hoping somehow it will turn you invisible.

But their boisterous conversation suddenly turns much quieter.

Your shoulders tense, and as subtly as you can, you try to slip your hand into your bag for your pepper spray. Blindly, you feel around, trying to move as little as possible so as to not draw any more attention to yourself, because you have no doubts you’re the reason their conversation has become so hushed. If this doesn’t end horribly, you’ll have to try to remember to clear out all of the junk you have stashed away.

One of the men laughs, and then their conversation stops all together.

Your fingers curl around the tube of spray in your purse.

Without looking, you know they’re moving towards you now. Their shuffled, stumbling footsteps are growing louder. They’re drunk and not looking for their night to be over just yet. Unfortunately, you just happened to be in their way while they were looking for the next phase of the evening.

“Hey!” one yells.

You don’t acknowledge him. Maybe they’ll be drunk enough to think you genuinely can’t hear them and give up. It’s wishful thinking, but what does that matter?

Now you’re regretting pretending you were so tough for Jason because these guys sure as shit wouldn’t even give you a second glance if you were standing next to him.

They’ve crossed the tracks now, and there’s still no sign of train headlights. Your grip on the pepper spray tightens, not wanting it to slip now that your heart is starting to race.

“Hey! You!”

You don’t look.

One of them grabs your arm and tugs you out from the shelter. You wince at the contact against the fresh tattoo. “We’re talking to you,” he laughs.

You’re about to use your pepper spray when it clatters to the ground.

All three men look down at it.

“What’s this?” the second man says, bending down and picking it up.

But before any of them can say anything else, a figure just outside of the ring of light the four of you are standing under. You can’t make out any details about him besides the sheer size of him.

“Let go of her and walk away while you still can,” he growls. The sound of his voice isn’t quite right. It sounds distorted. Your skin prickles with nerves from the sound of it.

The man who picked up your pepper spray turns it towards the figure, threatening to spray.

The figure just chuckles. It sounds cold, metallic. The sound of a gun cocking follows as the figure steps just into the light. The pepper spray wouldn’t do the man any good.

A man wearing a red helmet walks into sight, gun trained on the man holding my arm, but his grip drops instantaneously as he knocks through his other two friends to run, but the other two follow behind almost immediately.

And that leaves you and the guy in the helmet alone.

Gotham has its fill of guys in mask, and sure, there seems to be a new one popping up all the time, but you don’t know this one.

You look up at him, eyes wide with fright. The second the men are gone, he puts the gun back in one of the holsters on his thick thighs, but that doesn’t change the fact that he has them. You don’t know who this guy is, who he works with, whether he’s any better than that group of men or just more armed.

“You alright?” he asks when you don’t say anything. He has a voice modifier, you realize now, though you piece that together slowly.

After a beat, you nod your head. Your hand curls over your throbbing arm. You don’t like that you can’t see where he’s looking. Just two unblinking white voids where his eyes must be. “Yeah,” you breathe. Your eyes fall on your pepper spray. The man holding it must have dropped it when he ran.

When it’s clear you’re not moving to pick it up, the man bends down and grabs it. He holds out a gloved hand, offering it back to you.

Your trembling hand raises and you take it from him, offering a barely audible thanks as you slip it back into your bag.

He nods.

There’s still no sign of a train, and he’s not moving.

“I can give you a ride someplace. If you want.”

Don’t take rides from strangers. You’d heard it just as much as anyone, and the man standing before you is the definition of a stranger. You can’t even see his face; you have no idea who he is beneath that helmet. The one thing you do know is he has a gun, and he’s built like a fridge.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he adds, but his modulated reassurances don’t ease your concern. He senses your hesitation and takes a step back. “Do you want me to leave?”

A few more seconds pass as you consider the question. What if those guys come back? What if some other group comes along? But is giving your home address to the guy with a gun a better idea? And would him standing beside you as you wait for your train make you feel any safer? Could you so willingly accept he wasn’t going to just wait for the moment your guard is down to do something, just the way this city works?

Finally, you shake your head. Neither decision seems like the right one to make. But he did help you. Now you just have to hope to god he’s not going to take advantage of your vulnerability.

You want to ask if he’s one of Batman’s friends, but you don’t find the words.

Instead, you two fall into a silence. For you, it’s tense. You wonder if he feels the same, or if this is just a regular night for him. He stands near you but keeps his distance, like he’s aware how intimidating he could be.

The train is so late. There must be some hold up. One of Gotham’s usuals causing a delay in public transit. Go fucking figure.

“Are you new?” you ask finally. If the train never comes, you might end up taking him up on his offer for a ride, so you may as well try and figure something out about him. Any sort of indication of if you can trust him or not.

There’s another distorted chuckle, though somehow, this one seems less malicious than earlier when threatened with your pepper spray. “You could say that.”

You have no idea how to respond to that, so you don’t.

Silence settles between you again. You can see the lights of the train in the distance. You’re hoping that nothing happens on the train. All you want is to crash into your bed.

The man in the red helmet stands beside you, not pushing any further to make conversation. He waits with you. As it screeches to a halt in front of you, you turn to thank him, but you notice he’s already gone.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #x reader

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kalki-tarot · 1 day

Text

Unqiue details about the person on your mind.

This is a general reading and is not guaranteed to be 100% true.

Pick one emoji :)

🌿 🍂 🌻

Pile 01 🌿

They are someone who takes everything seriously, like they are an emotionally sensitive human being and they can't handle "jokes" that demean them or people who make fun of their insecurities.

They cry while watching sad romance movies. 😭

They don't like public attention, they can be an introverted person. Or they just like to keep their achievements to themselves. They don't like public eye because who knows someone may give you an evil eye. 🧿

As I've mentioned in the first point too, they are someone who gets hurt easily, they prefer to be inside their own shell as a mechanism to feel safe. People may have hurted this person a lot with words.

They may have a cold exterior but are definitely very cool on the inside.

They are filled with surprises, evertime you talk to them, you'll find a new thing about them.

They like philosophy, self help, psychology books. They self reflect a lot.

They are a keen observer of people and situations. They have great analytical skills. They know who's bs-ing with whom.

They come from a family/background where they have been emotionally neglected a lot. They don't have a "safe place". They try to understand and validate themselves through reading psychology and self help books.

No matter what, this person is someone very resilient and secure of who they are now.

They are a great humanitarian and they do charity work or they just help people around them financially or emotionally.

They are looking for their soulmate or partner with whom they can share a deep and secure connection with. They are looking for someone long term and are not interested in hook ups etc.

They are very giving in nature and do for others more than for themselves.

Pile 02 🍂

This person likes babies.

They also like slow music and folk music too. They may like listening to Kailash Kher so much.

Their favorite bird is Koyal, idk what you call it in English you can search it online.

They are a traditional person, they value their family and sanskaars.

This person may work with children, can be a pediatrician, child specialist, nanny, caretaker, nursery teacher etc.

This person is a little dramatic, it's like everyone likes them they don't care, but if that one person does not like them, they go mad.

Sorry to say this, but they are a little ungrateful about life.

This person also stays in their mind a lot, they may overthink and create fake scenarios. They can be addicted to being sad ?

They have this tendency to stay stuck in the past, they fear new things, places, people etc. It's hard for to get outside of their comfort zone.

They believe in true love, soulmates etc. And hope to find their own.

It's easy for them to get bored though.

Their past hasn't been the best, they still can't get over their fears and traumas :(

Pile 03 🌻

They like listening to hip hop songs especially the 2000s ones.

This person has a tendency to run away when they feel like things won't go their way.

They may suffer from anxiety or intrusive thoughts.

They may have drinking issues / alcohol abuse is what i see, they get aggressive after drinking.

They may have gambling addictions too.

This person is working hard to overcome these dark obsessions and addictions.

Their father figure had some problems (can be abusive) hence they and their mother suffered a lot in their childhood. Their addictions stem from here.

They may not really like talking about their past sm, it hurts them.

Surprisingly, the song "chupke chupke raat din" is playing and it translates into smth like "I remember crying silently/while hiding."

Very heavy past traumas and issues.

They may show everyone this cool and calm demeanor but from inside they are literally hurting and fighting with themselves. Omg, i feel so sad for this person :(

They may like listening to ghazals a lot.

Bangladesh & Nepal is significant.

They have seen relationships break and turn out worse in their childhood so now they run away or fear commitments and marriage.

Or it can also be that the person they once loved feared marriage or commitment and it made them fall deeper into addictions.

They see marriage as a cage.

This person has emotionally given up on a lot of things in life like career, emotions etc.

They neglect themselves sometimes.

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writtenbyafan · 3 days

Text

Moments Like These

⟢ Lucifer Morningstar x female!reader ⟢ Warnings: Angst; Alastor being Alastor; OOC HH cast? ⟢ Standalone fic; could be read as a continuation of my other fic "It's the little things".

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[Extermination day is canceled. Adam has been defeated, and the rest of the exterminators have retreated back to heaven.]

[Now it’s time to rebuild the hotel and continue Charlie’s mission to rehabilitating sinners. Lucifer offered to help and has even opened up Morningstar Palace to Charlie and her friends. He wanted to make sure his daughter had place to say during the construction of the new Hazbin Hotel.]

[Plus with his envolment, Lucifer has been presented with the chance to get closer to Y/N. Maybe moving beyond the friendship they've had for years.]

[He be lying if he said he wasn't excited by this thought the most.]

~ Day 1 ~

[During day one of rebuild, Lucifer had been cornered by Niffty. Lucifer was only half listening to the manic maid because he was too busy watching Y/N interact with Charlie. He couldn't hear what was being said because of the distance. That didn't hinder the obvious affection he witnessed on Y/N's face as she listened to whatever Charlie was saying. His daughter was talking animatedly, speaking with her hands as she pointed at various pieces of building material.]

[Y/N smiled and nodded along with the excitable blonde, even laughing a time or two. When it seemed like Charlie had run out of things to say, he watched as a bashful smile broke out across her face. Y/N returned it with a radiant smile of her own. Placing her hand on Charlie's head, Y/N ruffled her hair, handed her a safety helmet and shooed her off back to work with a wave.]

Lucifer, heart eyes: "She treats Charlie so well. Almost like Charlie was her daughter."

~ Day 3 ~

[After a full day of hard work, the Hazbin crew called it a day and headed back to the palace for some much needed rest.]

[It was late into the night when Lucifer woke feeling thirsty. Rolling out of bed, Lucifer ignored his sleep mused hair and grabbed his robe and slippers before exiting his room. Lucifer quietly made his way through the many palace halls towards the kitchen for a glass of water.]

[With his drink secured, Lucifer was passing by the door to a sitting room when he heard soft voices coming from inside. Walking into the room, Lucifer flicked on the lights and bit back a laugh at the site that greeted him.]

Lucifer: “Are you and your friend enjoying a little midnight snack, Y/N?”

[From her spot on the floor Y/N stared at Lucifer in shock. Y/N, in her duck and flower theme pajamas, was laying on her stomach on the plush rug of the barley used sitting room. Beside her a pink piglet was nibbling on a piece of fruit from a small plate she had sitting near her. Y/N had book opened in front of her with a book light clipped on it, allowing her to read in the dark.]

Y/N: "Lucifer! You scared me!"

Lucifer, chuckling: "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Is that your pet?"

Y/N: *shaking her head* "No, Fat Nuggets, is actually Angel Dust's pet. When either he and I can't sleep, we find each other for a little midnight hang out sesh. I'm not sure how it all started, but I don't question it much."

[From beside her, Fat Nugget oinked at the King of Hell, his snout twitching cutley. Y/N smiled at the piglet, reaching over to rub the spot between his little horns. Fat Nugget oinked again as his little devil tail wagged happily.]

Y/N: "Luci, if you're not in a rush, why don't you join us? For a little bit?"

Lucifer, blushing: *actually happy* *smiles and laughs* *grins likes a goofy little idiot*

[With a snap of his fingers the lights to the sitting room are back off. Joining Y/N on the rug, Lucifer lays down on his back staring up at the dark ceiling. In a soft voice, Lucifer asks Y/N if she would read to him. She complied and quietly read from where she left off on the page.]

[When Lucifer felt her fingers gently combing through his hair, he flinched; he had not been touched with such gentleness since his divorce. He was no stranger to women and had felt their hands on all parts of his body, but Y/N's touch made him feel like he belonged some place. He allowed his eyes to close as he savored the attention Y/N was giving him.]

~ Day 5 ~

[Although Lucifer enjoyed that he was getting closer to Y/N, he liked it less when he noticed just how close Y/N and Alastor were. It made him nearly combust when he had to witness Alastor's and Y/N's interactions.]

[Lucifer knew Alastor didn't like to be touched, but he saw that the Radio Demon had no problem when Y/N did it.]

[Other times Lucifer had seen Alastor be the one to initiate physical contact with Y/N.]

Alastor: "Y/N, I've you've been working so hard with the hotel construction. You deserve a reward."

Y/N, smiling: "Oh, I don't need that, Alastor. I'm just doing my part."

Alastor: "Nonsense! Take a seat, I insist."

[The Radio Demon pushed Y/N back into a chair that appeared behind her. A second later Alastor materialized behind her and placed his hands on Y/N's shoulders giving her massage.]

[Lucifer's claws tore at the skin of his palms as he watched Y/N melt in her seat under the Alastors touch.]

Alastor, grinning: "There. Isn't that better, Y/N?"

Y/N, signs contently: *eyes shut* "It feels fantastic Al."

Alastor: "…"

[Alastor doesn't respond to Y/N's comment because Alastor had his eyes locked with Lucifer's. The look of dark rage on the King's face made Alastor giddy. Smiling wider, Alastor moved his hands away from Y/N shoulders, grazing his claws up along the sides of her neck. Y/N shivered at the sensation then groaned when Alastor burring his hands her hair to massage her scalp.]

[Y/N was completely unaware of Alastor's victorious grin or Lucifer storming off.]

~ Day 7 ~

[the day was finally here. the construction o the hotel had been completed and the new place looked spectacular. Charlie and the others were excited to return back to their home and continue their efforts of rehabilitating sinners.]

[Everyone had already returned to the New Hazbin Hotel but Y/N had stayed behind at the Morningstar Palace. Y/N had wanted to personally thank Lucifer for all his help and opening his home up to them. First she had to find the man who suddenly seemed unable to be in her presence.]

[After a few hours of searching every room she came across, Y/n finally ended up at Lucifer's study.]

[Cautiously Y/n knocked on the heavy wood and gold doors of the study. Getting no response, Y/N slowly twisted the handle on the door and stepped inside.]

Y/N: "There you are! I've been looking all over for you. Charlie and the other have already left but I wanted to talk to you before I go."

Lucifer: "..."

[Lucifer doesn't turn around at Y/N entrance. He keeps his back to her as he sits at he worktable, tinkering with a new rubber duck project.]

Y/N: *coughs* "I know I shouldn’t be here but I want to thank you for all you help with the hotel construction. It was very generous of you for letting us all stay here while our home was being rebuilt."

Lucifer: "Sure, it was not problem. I just wanted to be there for Charlie in her time of need."

Y/N: "Lucifer, why have you been avoiding me these last few days?"

Lucifer, startled: *turns around* “I haven't- I just noticed that you've been spending an awful lot of time with Alastor. I didn't want to get in the way."

Y/N, confused: "Get in the way of what?"

Lucifer, sighs: "What are your thoughts on Alastor? Are you- do you like him?"

Y/N: "What?! No! Alastor is just my friend. We are friendly with each other but I don't see him like what."

Lucifer: “Is he really just a friend?”

Y/N, frustrated: "Luci, I'm so lost. Where is this all coming from?"

Lucifer: "I just...adore you. And, I don't like the way that, Bastard, looks at you. I hate when he touches you."

Y/N, bewildered: "Are you actually jealous of Alastor?"

Lucifer: "Me, jealous?"

[Lucifer rises out of his seat to finally face Y/N.]

Lucifer: "Yes. Because… because I think I'm falling in love with you, okay? I can't pretend anymore."

Y/N: "..."

Lucifer: *clears his throat* "Please say something."

Y/N, tearfully: "You silly little man. I never thought that there would be a day that you would actually return my feelings."

Lucifer: "W-what?"

Y/N: *grabs Lucifer's hands to tug him a little closer.*

Y/N: "I'm saying that it's the same for me. I love you, Lucifer, have loved you for quite a while if I'm being honest."

Lucifer: "But why did you never say anything?"

Y/N: *holds up Lucifer's left hand as an answer.*

[Lucifer's the gold wedding band shined in the light of his study.]

Y/N, bashful: "This didn't exactly inspire a lot of confidence in my feelings being reciprocated. I thought you were still waiting for your Lilith to return. So, I kept quiet all these years. I didn't want to put you in a awkward position."

[Lucifer stares at his wedding band for a moment before gently pulling his hands out of Y/N grasp. He didn't miss the small flash of hurt that colored Y/N features before she covered it with a smile of solemn acceptance. ]

[It's that action from Y/n that solidified Lucifer's next move. Pulling the ring off his finger, Lucifer wound his arm back and threw the wedding band across the room.]

[The ring bounced off one of the walls of the study then fell to the floor where it got lost in one of the many rubber ducky piles around the room.]

[Y/N watched this happen in shock, staring at Lucifer with an unreadable expression.]

Lucifer, blushing: “Can I hug you?”

Y/N, nodding: "Of course."

[Lucifer wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Y/N waist and nestling his head against her chest.]

[Y/N wrapped her arms around Lucifer's shoulders. Removing his top hat so that she could rest her chin on the crown of his head.]

[Over come with the sudden rush of emotion that her feelings were returned, Y/N pulled her head back to press a kiss to Lucifer's forehead.]

Lucifer, weeping: "Do it again."

Y/N: *places soft kisses to each of Lucifer's cheeks*

Lucifer, whimpers: "More."

[Y/N beams at Lucifer's sweet plea. Tenderly putting her hands on either side of his face, Y/N angled Lucifer's face just a little bit closer before finally claiming his lips in sweet kiss]

END˚♡˚

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel drabble #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader

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lucysarah-c · 15 hours

Text

Euphemisms

Summary: Levi may not have attended school, but he knows a thing or two about pregnancy… and also periods. (Levi takes care of you during your period) Author's Note: I wrote this story a while ago for my main fic. Then, I wrote a different version for the final cut of the fic, so I decided to re-arrange this one so it could be a one-shot. Warning: Suggesting themes, mentions of pregnacy. The reader is a virgin. Word Count: 3.5k

The calendar that was peacefully and innocently lying on top of Erwin’s desk. ‘March…’ her mind read, ‘It’s March already, the 7th to be precise.’ Her mind tried to count days, desperately trying to find missing days that could make the counting lower. Biting her nails with worry, this was a new topic for her to be stressed about.

Levi had joined the military only a year ago, right? He hadn’t been promoted yet, but the gossip in the halls said it was imminent. Perhaps because in the few months he had been part of the Scouts, he had already killed more titans than anyone before. Maybe it was because he worked directly for Erwin, who kept ordering her to write letters to the military board requesting the special promotion of Captain for those who were impressive additions to the military but hadn’t gone through the regular training.

The yet-to-be Captain and she had locked eyes in the past, or… done more than just locking eyes. That was the issue now. Every single time Levi was dragged into Erwin’s office because he had replied with his colorful vocabulary to a higher-up or fought another cadet, she was there. One thing led to another, and during common chores or after training, they had gotten more “familiar” with each other.

Y/N wouldn’t even dare to complain. The thug that Erwin had decided to bring to the surface kicking and shouting was many things. Rushed wasn’t one of them. She had clarified to him that she had never had a boyfriend before, or anything to be more precise, and he had reassured her that she could set the tempo. They would do anything that she felt comfortable with.

“Lev- Ah-“ she whimpered as he kissed her neck enthusiastically and his fingers played thoughtful circles over her clit.

“You like that, hm?” Levi replied almost as joke, it was obvious that she did by the way she rocked her hips against his hand.

“I-?!”

“Shhh,” he hushed her, half as mockery, half because they were breaking curfew “Don’t worry, I won’t go too far… two fingers are all I need,”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she tried to concentrate on work, pen marking the time as it repeatedly hit the paper she was supposed to be reading while her mind recalled the exact scenes that, she believed, had dragged her into this situation.

The little knowledge that had been shared with her was more lies and tales than realistic information. The sudden crucifixion of her actions a couple of months ago passed in her mind as a picture book, one after the other, as her less pure side made an emphasis on bringing back the mental sequence of him taking off his shirt while smirking and then going down to kiss her, or better say devour her, taking her breath as if he needed the oxygen from her lungs for himself. Perhaps, the rocking of his bare hips against hers, with his manhood in full display for her to see as it pressed against her lower stomach.

‘Maybe it takes longer to show… no no, maybe I’m not. But what if I am?’ ‘Who do I tell? Who do I ask? What do I do?’

“Oi, are you going to tell me what the fuck is up with you or not?” Levi asked, pissed off already after an entire day of him asking, “You alright?” and her answering with a face that seemed far from okay, saying “Yes.” He was resting his body on the railing of the watch post, with a hot cup of tea between his hands.

“Nothing,” her voice came out whispery and sad, and he sighed loudly and groaned in pain.

“Just say it. Don’t be like ‘nothing,’” he emphasized the last word with sarcasm and disdain and kept going, “with the most fucked up face. It’s obvious that something is going on. Don’t be a pain in the ass and say it. Cut the show.”

A part of her wanted to be mad at him for saying that she wasn’t making a show or a scene. “It’s nothing that concerns you,” her response came dubitable, which made Levi keep up the demanding attitude, as if this time he wasn’t taking that as an answer. “It doesn’t concern you… you as a man.”

There was a brief silence before he sighed loudly. “You’re on the rags, that’s it?” She raised an eyebrow at the euphemism that was a bit more “street-like” than what she was used to. “You’re on your period, you’re bleeding. That’s what I meant.”

Leaving aside that it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last that despite both of them talking the same language as every human inside of the walls, Underground slang was so distant from what she was used to that sometimes that they got lost in translation. When she got what he meant, she blushed intensely, ashamed. “No, and God, you could be a bit more delicate about it.”

Possibly, she wasn’t used to bringing the topic around the other gender. She had been told (since it happened for the first time) the bearable minimum amount of information: “You’re a woman now, it will happen every month, men must not know.” Telling Levi was breaking one of the three rules set in stone for her. The second rule was also broken, so she felt like stepping on completely foreign land.

The permanent wrinkled frown in Levi’s complexion was slightly changed with the addition of a raised, thin eyebrow. “If you’re not, then what’s the problem?”

She joined in the frowning and avoided his glance with questionable security and a mortified appearance. “More like… the lack of it?”

“Why are you worried about it?” Levi’s straightforward nature was testing her limits of politeness.

“Well, you know!” she cussed at him. “That I may be expecting,” she whispered the last part, terrified that someone might even hear her, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere. As if those words could travel through walls and arrive at someone.

This was the time for him to be shocked and surprised. His eyebrows raised, and his eyes opened. Suddenly, even without him wanting, a pang of hurt appeared in his face. Levi was quick to question, “Are you fuckin’ someone?”

Perhaps the details or the official title of what they were sharing hadn’t been discussed yet, but Levi somehow thought it was rather clear that they were exclusive. However, since she seemed genuinely worried, Levi considered that perhaps he was the only one taking this more seriously. The idea of him misreading the relationship was like a bucket of cold water mixed with the raging fire of jealousy. He took a sip of his tea, mostly to disguise the disappointment mingled with hurt.

Her coldness was lost, and she pressed her lips together while raising both eyebrows, irritated. “You!”

The former thug, not following her train of thought, admired her in confusion before saying, “How could I get you knotted up?”

Levi’s usual frowning expression changed slightly as he was certainly not getting the point of the conversation. “Are you fuckin’ someone else?”

Gasping in disbelief, “Are you already questioning my loyalty to you?” She felt dreadfully offended. She turned around and gave him her back. “My grandmother was right. Men back up so easily. They leave you as soon as they find out.”

He shook his head slightly while wrinkling the nose, as he tried to process everything. He was completely confused but at the same time he got a rush of relief at her words. “You… you think you could be knock up?”

“Couldn’t you be softer about it? You say it so harshly,” she complained about his sharp tongue. As a silent reply, the hand that wasn’t holding the cup left his trousers’ pocket and raised as he also cocked an eyebrow, completely misunderstanding what was wrong with his choice of words. “I don’t know, maybe a bun in the oven or with child.”

She was freaking out inside and out, and Levi dedicated his best disinterested look to her after her correction of words. “What am I going to do?” she questioned to no one in particular as she felt the fear kicking in.

Levi’s expression remained the same as he gave it a thought, and then said almost as if he was confused of his own actions too. “I … I haven’t put it in yet,”

She seemed to have completely ignored him. Once he had finally concluded there was actually no real problem he sighed and then said, “Then you’re not pregnant, chill. Calm down.” As soon as those words left his lips and she turned around with a dead gaze, his free hand raised again but this time as some sort of white flag. “Fine, fucking terrible choice of words.” Aware that not a single person in human history had calmed down after being told so.

“You don’t know that,” she murmured as a reply to his first statement.

“I think I kinda do.” The calmness in his tone and the disinterest in his face made her even more infuriated.

“People in my life, especially my family, had made it clear before. Messing around with a man could lead to pregnancy. We were both naked and your… your thing was touching me and close by. I don’t know! Maybe it worked somehow,” she desperately tried to express her fears until she heard him chuckle. It was starting to be tiring to dedicated him dead glances.

“Sorry,” he apologized, probably realizing that laughing in her face wasn’t helping. “I may not be the most educated moron around here, but that simply is not how it works. I didn’t put my dick in, not even close, so you’re safe.”

“Are you implying that you know more than everybody around me?”

“More about sex than you? Apparently, yes, I’m sure of that.” As he arrived at the end of his reply, he couldn’t stop a side smirk from appearing on his features, and then he took a sip from his tea. "If getting knotted up was that easy, girly, there would be more kids than fucking grass.”

Her stubbornness didn’t allow her to believe him. She walked around the watch post worrying, “What if I need to carry it on? Will I lose my job? Erwin will be so disappointed in me! I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready to be a mother either.”

Levi rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You know, there’s no fucking schools down there but I’m sure about this.” He commented, thinking to himself so stupidly prudish surface people were compared to the underground. “You’re not knock up. I’ve to put it in and shoot my load for that to happen”

When he noticed she wasn’t really paying attention, Levi took a cup and filled it up with tea. He placed it in her hands and grabbed her face. His rough, calloused hand applied pressure on her cheeks and raised it slowly, to look up at him even when they were more or less the same height. “Calm the fuck down. Why would I lie to you? If it was possible, don’t you think I would freak out? Drink the tea and relax for goodness’ sake. We are one week away from an expedition, and you’re stressed as a fucking cornered rat. Of course, your period is not coming down.”

“Alright,” she stuttered. “But what if I am? You’re not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?” She gave him her best doe eyes.

“Of course,” he replied, mostly to not argue with her but the thought that she was still considering it made him roll his eyes.

Stress is never an excellent ally. He was right in everything. They came back from the expedition; she relaxed for a few days, and it came right in. If there’s something worse than a period, it's a late one. Her hormones were messed up, and everything hurt twice as much.

"Trying" was a generous word for her attempts at pretending she wasn’t in so much pain that she wished she'd never left her bed. It was a mix of the constant discomfort from the unrelenting waves of pain and a boiling sensation in her lower belly. Not to mention the random rushes of intense pain in her butt that made her feel as if time froze until the sensation slowly passed. She felt moody, mostly because the uniform felt like it was pressing in all the wrong places. It was too tight, complicated, impractical, itchy, and either too cold or too warm. She wanted to put on a long shirt and lay in bed for a week.

Her fork moved the food from one side of the plate to the other. She was hungry, but not for breakfast. The usual meal felt like an insult to her state. ‘I want comfort food, not healthy stuff for training,’ she thought.

“Why the shitty face? Are you constipated?” Levi asked bluntly. Her initial thought was, ‘Yes, try going to the bathroom normally when you feel like dying.’

“I have a headache,” she replied miserably.

Levi hummed a positive reply, “Ah,” looking her from the other side of the table and simply stated, “Your blood finally came,”

She choked on the glass of water she was drinking, coughing loudly. When she finally recovered, her embarrassed expression made it clear how she felt. “Don’t say that! Or at least not like that. Haven’t you imagined that a headache is a social clue since you’re a man and I don’t want you to know?”

Levi, who once again didn’t understand her reactions, kept his uninterested facade and raised the teacup to his lips. “I don’t get your fucking embarrassment. Men know about it. It’s not a secret.”

“It’s girls’ stuff,” she tried desperately to keep the traditions she was told, while Levi was obstinate about going against them.

“It’s normal. Why are people here on the surface so fucking obsessed about hiding normal shit?” Levi, still getting used to another society, snarled.

The need to argue left her body as she writhed in pain from another cramp. She tried to hide it as best as she could, even though Levi already knew; she felt like expressing her pain was something he didn’t want to hear.

“If you feel that bad, go to bed and rest.” His voice was calm and monotone as always, but there were hints of compassion escaping his stoic expression.

“I can’t tell the superiors,” she used as an excuse.

Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Who cares? What’s the point of you training while feeling like this? Go, rest, and I will tell Erwin.”

“Erwin shouldn’t know,” she cried out loud, as if that was the worst fate.

“Don’t be an idiot. Erwin has hair on his balls. He knows how it works.” Levi felt as if she was talking nonsense but when he saw her conflicted face, he added, “I will tell him you caught a cold, whatever, so rest. I’ll do your chores.”

“You sure?”

“Just go.”

She did exactly that. At first, she felt she shouldn’t because she could bare it, but as soon as she arrived at her shared bedroom, changed her clothes, and laid quietly on the bed, she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She fell asleep; it was still early anyway, so it was more like resuming the rest of the night than an actual nap.

Later, a few hours before dinner, she was feeling quite bad but wasn’t tired enough to take another nap. Laying on her side, curled up as she read a book slowly because it was hard to read from that position, she heard a knock on the door. It was unusual because her friends would have just rushed in.

“Come in!” she said, slowly and lazily sitting up.

Levi's figure appeared, and she felt the urgent need to smooth out her hair, which was heavily tangled from lying in bed all day. “What are you doing here?” she questioned quickly, running her hands through her hair. “Men are not allowed in the female barracks.”

Levi left a tray with tea and some buns with jelly, probably leftover from breakfast, on her nightstand as he moved next to her between the two bunk beds. “Who is gonna keep me out?” he replied monotonously, as if they both knew nobody was going to pick a fight with him or get on his bad side by snitching to a higher-up.

Before she could thank him, he asked, “You have a hot water bottle?”

“Yeah, but it’s cold already,” she replied, still confused. He extended a hand as a silent gesture for her to give it to him.

Once she handed it to him, he declared, “I’ll come back later. Drink the tea before it gets cold. Bread with jelly was the closest thing to something your bratty sweet tooth would like.”

She accepted the warm cup he handed her with a tender smile. “Thank you so much, you shouldn’t have.”

“How are you feeling?” Levi asked, keeping his eyes on her while she tasted the tea. ‘Chamomile,’ she noted.

“Could be worse, I’ll survive,” she replied, still embarrassed that he was around. “Did you warn the higher-ups?”

Levi nodded. “Told them you had a headache. Erwin said to take it easy today and let him know how you feel tomorrow. He mentioned something about administrative activities or some bullshit like that if you’re still not feeling well enough for training.”

She accepted the white lie without question. While resting warmly in bed, she thought, ‘If it’s only him knowing, I could get used to this kind of pampering.’

The white lie was necessary because when Levi walked to Erwin, who was leading his squad’s early morning training, he stood in front of him and said, “Y/N isn’t training today, she’s bleeding.”

The blunt words made the blond, who was casually writing on a spreadsheet, snap quickly in shock and then chuckle slightly out of nervousness. “Oh, alright, I’ll write her down as indisposed.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking ashamed, too?” Levi rested his hands on his hips, looking deeply at his squad leader.

Erwin, probably smiling at the unexpected situation, said, “Well no, but usually people are a bit more discreet… especially the girls.” Levi clicked his tongue, annoyed, before Erwin added, “I highly doubt Y/N told you to tell me that.”

“She told me to say she had a headache.”

“Of course,” Erwin chuckled, knowing those were not her words. “Try to be softer next time, especially if you ever have girls under your command. They get really embarrassed, especially when they are young.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Got it. I’ll add it to my long list of stuff that you fuckers from the surface get scared about.”

He was ready to go back to training while Erwin let the swears slip by as if he was tired of calling Levi’s attention to those. Then the shorter man asked, “Do you have chamomile tea?”

Erwin raised his attention from the spreadsheet to look at Levi and simply replied, “No. I have black tea.”

He clicked his tongue, “it’s for the brat,” Levi clarified, as if that would make a difference.

“I imagined, but no. I can give you black tea if you want.” Erwin insisted, confused about the specificity.

Levi frowned. “That doesn’t work, moron. Caffeine makes cramps worse. Chamomile works better. Don’t you know that?”

The blond shook his head, not ashamed of admitting his lack of knowledge. “Usually, female cadets don’t talk to us about that.”

“About their bleeding? Don’t you have a little sister?” Levi questioned back, as if that was reason enough.

“Step-sister, and she was born after I joined the military. We never shared a household,” Erwin explained as he went back to his work, disinterested. “And we prefer to call it indisposed,” he added, instructing him again.

“Tch, got it. I’ll add it to the other list of stuff I should say instead,” Levi said, ending the conversation as he turned around and walked away.

Or so he thought, because Erwin spoke up again. His attention was still on his paperwork while he switched the weight from one leg to the other, making the little rocks of the training ground move and crack. “Euphemisms.”

The former thug looked back over his shoulder, frowning, and asked, “What?” from a slightly bigger distance now.

“Euphemisms,” Erwin repeated as if the question was because the cadet didn’t hear it. But as soon as the blond didn’t get an answer, he proceeded to explain, “A euphemism is a word or phrase used to avoid saying an unpleasant or offensive word.”

Erwin had no intention of displaying his education to the former thug, more of a plain explanation. The blond even raised his eyes and did a slight smile as a “white flag,” not trying to sound superior in his explanation.

Levi replied with his best deadpan expression, “You surface assholes know that but not about chamomile tea? You should check your priorities.”

This time, the black-haired cadet truly walked away, hearing his superior chuckle a bit. “Check with Hange. They may have the tea,” Erwin called after him.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Ps: If you ask me... Erwin know they are fucking lol

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certifiedlibraryposts · 3 days

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hi! i was wondering if you have any recommendations for getting into nonfiction books if you're too advanced for children's nonfiction, but find that most adult nonfiction seems to be geared towards people who already know a lot. i used to find so many new, random facts when i was a kid, but now all i read is fiction. also, there's so many topics, it's overwhelming! any advice would be great :)

Oooh, I'm usually more of a fiction gal myself but I've started dipping my toes into nonfiction a little bit. Here's a few thoughts I had:

Find topics you think are fun or are important to you. There are plenty of nonfiction books that are easy to digest, and it might help if you chose a topic you're already a bit familiar with. Off the top of my head I know I've seen multiple books about the making of Star Wars movies at a library recently, or there's books about things like food or video games!

Look for memoirs/biographies of people you're interested in!

Browse nonfiction audiobook selections in Libby or Hoopla! Audiobooks count as reading I'll get in a fight over this. I've found audiobooks are my favorite way to experience nonfiction, if you enjoy podcasts then it's a similar experience! (Fuck Amazon Audible)

Ask others for recommendations, like friends or librarians! (Or maybe some folks in the replies have some good recs too hoohoo).

And honestly, I don't belive there's any shame in reading below your level. Maybe having a peek at books written with a younger audience in mind can spark some inspiration on what kind of topics you'd like to find more advanced books on?

If anyone else has any tips feel free to share ^^ I hope you enjoy getting back into nonfiction!

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dulc3vida · 2 days

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you.

rafe cameron x bunny!reader

part 1. this is my au so don't think too much about canon lore. characters, times, events, ect... might not match but PLEASE JUST ENJOY THE STORY PLEASE JUST GIVE IT A CHANCE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASe

warning: 18+ read at your own risk. this is a dark fic loosely inspired by the tv show you. dubious content lies ahead, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

UNC Chapel Hill: September, Sophomore Year

there was nothing rafe cameron hated more than being tutored. it made him feel stupid, needing someone to explain and break down concepts that others understood easily. ward used to lose his mind trying to find rafe new tutors because in all honesty, when rafe felt cornered or helpless, he got nasty. saying the rudest things that made these well-paid, private tutors basically discard a paycheck, was one of the first times rafe ever felt true power. the first time he ever came close to knowing what his dad felt like, even though his dad had a much better reputation than rafe ever would.

rafe especially hated english. the books were boring and he could never be bothered to sumbit more than a half baked essay regarding the text. that's how he ended up in the study room in the library sitting across from you. he remembered you from class, the TA. you always sat besides prof. callahans desk and you looked younger than any TA he had ever had, probably even his age. your face was familiar but rafe couldn't put his finger on it. you were clean, you smelled good, and your nails were done which meant you had the time and money to take care of that kind of thing when most college students forget to feed themselves. you occasionally looked up from the signup sheet as the minutes ticked 5 past 3pm, where only rafe's name was signed.

"i guess we can start now." you mumbled, flipping your notebook open. "this weeks quiz is going to cover part 1 of crime and punishment. have you... started the reading?"

rafe's hard gaze bored into yours and he shook his head without another word. he was thinking about how cute and neurotic the way you had your notes organized was and how soft you spoke to him. were you scared of him? rafe was intrigued.

"okay, no biggie. we can just start there. did you check out a copy of the book?" you asked, pulling out your own copy that was bursting at the seam with sticky notes and colored tabs. again, rafe wordlessly shook his head. "good thing we're in the library. come on, let's go see if they have any left."

rafe followed close behind you, you could practically feel him breathing down your neck as you walked through rows of books before finding the one you were looking for. you showed rafe how to check a book out before returning to the study room. "okay. let's start."

you began dissecting the book from the very beginning, soft voice describing the historical context of the book. rafe was surprised at how well he was keeping up. it didn't hurt that you were cute, nose all blushed and button, scrunching up whenever you couldn't read your own handwriting in your notes. a pair of clear framed glasses sat on the bridge of your nose which you constantly adjusted due to your eyelashes hitting the glass. you had a habit of licking and biting your lips, applying lipgloss on every "brain break" as you called it. maybe all this time, all he needed was a cute tutor that he could stand looking at.

in between writing notes and flipping through the book, he caught glimpses of a "j" necklace dangling in your cleavage. did your name start with a j?

"what's your name?" rafe asked once the two of you began packing your things up. it was now 7:30 with the sun beginning to set. you told him and he repeated it under his breath.

"my friends call me bunny though." if you're bunny, who is j? you tossed your bag over your shoulder and let your hair down from the claw clip that was holding it up. it billowed over your shoulders and you tucked a few stray strands behind your ears after taking your glasses off. you weren't the shy good girl he met at the beginning of the session, no, you were different. good girl in front of everyone but he knew there was another energy in you that he wanted- no he needed to see. rafe watched you leave, staying a few steps behind, where he could comfortably watch you and before he knew it, you were jumping into the passenger side of a beat up old brown van that pulled up, and leaning over to give whoever was driving a kiss.

rafe felt a familiar, red hot anger wash over him. the first time he felt that anger was when sarah was born and ward wouldn't stop fawning over her. ward basically forgot he had a son when sarah was born which made rafe incredibly insecure. that insecurity built a home inside rafe's heart, where any little inconvenience could turn it into an ugly monster with sharp teeth and a desire to tear everything in sight into fucking pieces. this time, the monster was awakened at the reality of you having a boyfriend.

against his better judgement, rafe ran to his truck the second you took off, speeding down the road he saw you drive down. it took him a minute, but he managed to find the shitbox on wheels you were riding around in. he made sure to stay far enough away to where it didn't seem suspicious, but close enough to where he wouldn't lose you again.

he wouldn't lose you again.

he repeated that phrase to himself as he drove into jacksonville and while he parked his car a few spaces from the van in a place where your little group was fully visible. you came to the beach. there was 3 guys, 1 girl, and you. gone were your leggings, tank top, and cardigan. instead, you donned a pair of cutoff jean shorts, a bikini top, and a huge smile on your face as you settled yourself in the blonde boys lap.

rafe thought he recognized the group you were with, but he was hoping his eyes were just playing tricks. of course, it could never be that simple because rafe did know them. the pogues. what were they doing on the mainland? he hadn't seen them in a while and was getting used to not having to see or smell them other than when he went home for holidays.

jj, he knew worked in the cafeteria ever since he graduated earlier in the spring, which is probably how he met you. rafe had never been fond of jj, in fact, rafe lived to antagonize jj back on the island (if he cared for the cafeteria food, he would probably be in there a lot more to mess with him) so him having you felt like poorly timed karma. to be completely honest, rafe hadn't expected such a dramatic shift of power dynamics when coming to college because now there was at least 10 other rafe's who were dating the girls he should have been dating. he did just fine at parties, more than fine, but he was starting to get tired of drunk girls who just lied there all limp and sweaty or threw up on his dick (happened twice freshman year and he didn't enjoy it like he thought he would). the first decent, eligible girl he meets is getting her pussy dug out by jj maybank of all people and it felt like someone, somewhere was laughing at his misfortune. it almost made him want to give up on you.

almost.

he would never let jj maybank win at anything, let alone your heart. there was just something about you that he couldn't let go. the only thing he couldn't figure out was why everyone else was here too? none of them had a chance of getting into chapel hill. you either had to have perfect grades, be incredibly wealthy, or be a legacy student. thankfully, rafe managed to be 2/3 of those things.

rafe sat back in his seat and just observed you. he cracked his windows open and tried to listen to your conversation but he was too far to hear anything other than laughter and unintelligible voices. he pulled his phone out and typed your name into instagram, easily finding your very public page.

rafe decided to do some digging. he would start at the bottom. scrolling all the way back through a very curated feed (rafe could tell you pick and choose which of your old posts get to stay up and which ones ruin the feed) rafe felt his heart sink.

he knew you.

OBX: Summer 2018

"come on, bunny, i don't wanna go without you." your friend, esther, pleaded. she had been invited to rafe camerons party, a coveted event where anything and everything happened. esther was dating rafe's friend kelce, who invited her to the party.

"you're not even gonna talk to me so what's the point in going." you responded, filing your nails while you laid in bed.

"honestly, when's the last time you really went out? you only ever go to the country club and don't say your parents make you because last time you weren't even with your parents."

"well, the old men buy me drinks if i talk to them and make them laugh. sometimes they give me money. one of them gave me this tiffany bracelet." you stuck your wrist out to show off the silver bracelet with the heart tag which was branded with the company's insignia.

"that's kinda gross." esther scrunched her nose. you only shrugged your shoulders.

"so is going to a party at rafe camerons house. jungle juice is probably roofied" rafe had been the stereotypical jock douchebag who only hung out with other jocks, cheerleaders, or other impossibly gorgeous girls. you saw right through him which is why you never caved. not when he invited you to his lunch table, not when he asked you out, not when he tried to grind against you on the dancefloor at junior prom and called you a bitch when you pushed him away. at some point, rafe stopped trying trying with you and turned his attention and "where my hug at?" energy towards other girls who were much more susceptible.

"so we'll pregame. just please don't make me go alone." in a flash, esther sat on top of you and pinned your arms down while a string of "please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top!" tumbled out of her mouth.

"OKAY!" you had enough, but were still giggling. "i'll go, just get off of me so i can change."

"yay!" esther rolled off of you. "wear the black one, the one that makes you look slutty."

"aren't we supposed to be getting you laid?" you asked, looking through your closet that was practically overflowing with expensive name brands.

esther looked down at her hands. "me and kelce already..."

"no way. really?" she nodded and you squealed rushing over to hug her. "babe i'm so proud of you! wait- why do you need me there then?"

"its the first time i'm meeting his friends and i'm nervous." she explained, now looking through your clothes with you. "i need a buffer, yknow, a cute friend who can keep my boyfriends friends occupied."

you blinked. "so basically, you're whoring me out?"

"you just told me that you talk to old men for money and gifts."

"yeah and they don't even get to see me in my little black dress."

when you arrived at the party, it was in full swing. rafe caneron's parties had a reputation. booze flowed, drugs were shared, and there were enough rooms in the house for every couple to get busy in. it was the perfect haven for teen delinquency.

you were unimpressed, as per usual, with rafe's antics. he had been in the pool when you arrived, a girl on either side of him while he smoked a joint.

"how long do i have to stay?"

"until you start enjoying yourself."

you went to the bar. grabbing a red solo cup, you mixed yourself a drink of cherry vodka and coke. you chugged it, always having the attitude that when it came to alcohol you had to get right to the point. when you finished it, you made yourself another one.

"excuse me." a hand gently placed itself on the small of your back which made you jump. "my bad, didn't mean to scare ya- hey you're esthers friend right?" it was topper. "i just saw her with kelce. i'm topper." he stuck his hand out.

"bunny." you took it.

"whatcha got there?"

"chery vodka and coke."

"nah nah nah- you like the cherry vodka?" you nodded and he took your cup from you. "let me make you a drink."

"okay." you watched his every move as he fixed cherry vodka, cranberry juice, and lime in a brand new cup. "thank you. what is this?"

"it's called a cherry bounce. cheers to you, bunny. hopefully this isn't the last time i see you."

you only smiled at him, tight lipped and gently tapped your cup against his before taking a drink. "topper, this is really good. make me another?"

"you're not even done with that one yet." with that, you drank the rest of your cup. "okay, party girl." he took your cup back and fixed you another. "you wanna dance?"

you hated to admit it, but you actually were having a good time with topper. he was funny, kind, nice to look at, and he was a good dancer. the night was going so good, until esther invited you and topper to sesh with her, kelce, and rafe as the party died down.

it wasn't the sesh that was bad, no, you even managed to be polite and sociable with rafe. it was after the sesh when your drinks had caught up with you and you needed to pee. "esther can you show me where the bathroom is?" you asked but it fell on deaf ears as esther and kelce were mouth fucking.

"c'mon. i'll show you." rafe got up and began walking inside the house without another word. you quickly followed, only wanting to relieve your bladder and be alone for a few minutes to gather yourself and your thoughts that were racing on account of the sativa blunt you had just smoked.

rafe walked up the stairs, basically torturing your bladder with every step until he got into his room. "just use this one."

you were too desperate to argue about whatever his intentions were bringing you here so you went in and almost tripped over yourself getting to the toilet. you made it through, no accidents happening and feeling a lot more gone than when you walked up the stairs.

you stepped back into rafes room and he was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. "you okay? you were in there for a while."

"yeah." you stumbled over to sit next to him but he got up and went to his window. "just a little dizzy."

"everyone fell asleep." rafe watched his friends make themselves comfortable on the outside couch on this hot summer night. you climbed over his bed and looked out the window at the sight of your friend asleep on her boyfriend's chest and topper asleep, hugging a pillow.

"do i get a prize?" he cocked his head at you. "for being the last one awake at a rafe cameron party?"

"what do you want?" rafe asked you seriously and you sighed, lying back against his navy blue sheets.

"for you to not be such an asshole." you murmured and stared at the ceiling. "i mean, you're really cute but you ruin it by being... you."

"i knew you had a thing for me." rafe must have only heard half of what you were saying because he was taking his place back next to you on his bed. "c'mere." he patted his lap and it didn't take much more coaxing than that to get you crawling into his lap. he positioned himself the way he wanted you, straddling him with your crotch right on top of his. "been waiting for you to finally come around." he trailed his hands up and down from your waist to your ass. "y'gonna let me inside that pretty pussy babe?" rafe whispered in your ear, sending all your intoxicated arousal straight to your core.

if you had been in a clearer state of mind, you would have never even been in rafe's room, but here you were letting him guide your hips to grind against you through the thin layer of your black lacy panties. your short dress had already ridden up your thighs, exposing you even more than you already were.

unexpectedly, rafe tugged the top of your dress down and leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth. when he grazed his teeth against your sensitive, hardened peak, you gasped and jolted against him. "rafe." you whispered, trying to get his attention because your head was spinning. instead, his hand found a place between your legs and pushed your panties to the side, dragging his fingers through your folds and spreading your wetness. he used it to rub your clit in circles, encouraged by your whimpers in his ear. "oh rafe..." you felt your orgasm building quickly due to your drunken state, but you also felt a pit building in your stomach. this felt wrong.

you blinked and you were on your back. your dress had found a place across your stomach and your panties were torn off of you without your knowledge. you closed your eyes, hoping if he thought you were asleep that he would just stop.

of course, things would not be that simple.

while your eyes were closed, rafe got undressed and slipped a condom over his cock. he grabbed a pillow and placed it under your hips to prop your pussy up for him at the perfect angle. he took his cock and tapped it against your clit. "wake up, sleepy girl." you only whined and tried to close your legs but he forced himself between them so you couldn't.

your eyes snapped open when you felt the intrusion of his cock. "uhhh..." you let out a mixture of a moan and a whine. the stretch burned because no matter how wet you were, rafe was objectively big, especially the mushroom tip of it. you didn't know if it was the liquor, the weed, or what, but you could basically picture what it looked like based on the way it felt inside you.

rafe gave you no time to adjust and set a punishing pace off the bat. he had one of his large hands splayed over your stomach, pushing down and making you let out a short, loud moan. "let me hear you. wanna hear how good i fuck this pussy." rafe grunted while thrusting in and out.

you, in your state, were incredibly embarrassed no matter how good he hit your spots so you were barely letting any noise escape your mouth.

"always playing hard to get... you're gushing around my cock... and making a mess on my sheets... but you still act all stuck up..." rafe spat at you through his teeth and you let out another high pitched whine. he punctuated each word with a hard thrust, his balls now slapping your ass with vigor. "gotta put you in your place, huh?"

he flipped you over and pulled you onto all fours. his hand splayed across your back this time and pushed your chest into the bed, creating a beautiful arch to your back. "so fuckin pretty." he moaned when the slid back into your tight warmth. the change of position did nothing to help you hold onto the little composure you had as he was now deeper than before, mushroom tip generously rubbing against your g-spot and his balls now smacking your clit. you were too far gone to care how you looked throwing your hips back against his. "fucking slut." he grunted, grabbing a handful of your hair. "y'wanted this huh? yeah, yeah, you been needing this huh?"

you could only moan as he painfully gripped your hair and pushed himself balls deep, rolling his hips against yours. "you like the way i fuck you baby?"

"mhm..." you had your eyes closed as you focused on the tension building in your stomach. a heavy hand landed a smack against your ass.

"use your words. you like my cock?"

"i love it..." you desperately moaned out.

"good girl." rafe pushed your head back into the bed and drilled his cock into you brutally. you were struggling to hold your hips up, but rafe held you up with one arm. "fuck... m'gonna cum. y'gonna let me cum in this pussy?" rafe grunted and pulled out, sliding the condom off before thrusting back into you. "there we go." he spoke through gritted teeth. "thatagirl, pussy feels like heaven."

you felt the difference and opened your mouth to protest but all that came out was unintelligible pants and moans.

then you saw white.

your orgasm washed over you, making your pussy clench and flutter and cream around rafes cock. you felt rafes hips stutter against yours and then you felt hot ropes of cum paint your insides. you couldn't stop moaning because rafe was still inside you, slowly thrusting and rubbing your clit. "so fucking tight..." he commented as he watched the way your pussy suctioned his cock and pulled out.

against your knowledge, rafe had been recording since he got you in doggy and was still recording. "shit..." he groaned as he focused the camera on your glistening pussy. a drop of his cum came dribbling out and he pushed it back in, earning a soft "ahhh..." from you. he played with your sensitive cunt until you came again for the camera and passed out.

when you woke up, you were alone. for a brief moment, you hadn't remembered what happened and were just confused as to where you were. you peered around the room and saw your dress and torn panties and it all came rushing back. the drinks, the sesh, having sex with rafe cameron. he must have changed you because you didn't remember putting on one of his shirts or sweats.

you checked your phone and your parents had been blowing you up since 8am. it was noon. you had missed calls from esther and a series of texts that said she couldn't find you in the morning and hopes you made it home safe. "shit." you groaned and got out of bed, legs sore from the sex you could only remember flashes of. you tidied the room up and changed back into your clothes before walking downstairs with your heels in hand. you slowed as you reached the foyer, hearing voices from the parlor.

"i don't know dude, doesn't feel right to watch this."

"she was totally cool with it, c'mon."

"you're gonna wanna see this."

you recognized the voices as topper, rafe, and kelce. then a video began playing and at first it just sounded like porn, then you realized it was your moans streaming through rafes phone.

"you like the way i fuck you?"

"mhm..."

"use your words. you like my cock?"

"i love it..."

"good girl."

you felt sick to your stomach as you heard the boys commenting on the video. how could you be so stupid? of course rafe would record you without permission while you were off your ass last night. you only blamed yourself as you walked home from tannyhill.

the video followed you around over the summer and you only managed to escape it when you went off to college.

rafe never thought twice about you after that.

JACKSONVILLE: Present.

rafe stared at your instagram feed in utter disbelief. he hadn't thought about you or the video since that summer. he honestly forgot it even happened. he wasn't a douchebag, he was a handsome young man who took all the opportunities presented to him (as he told himself). was sending the video around immature and stupid? probably. he was a kid though. everyone makes mistakes, or at least that's what he tried to tell himself as he looked through old pictures of you. did you remember him? you must have. you looked different from the last time he saw you but he looked the same. you definitely knew who he was the second he came into the study room and he didn't know how to feel about that. it made his job easier and harder. he already had a connection with you, but he would have to go through a grueling apology process that he really didn't care for. he just needed to have you.

as he scrolled into the more recent stuff, he couldn't help but notice that you didn't post jj on here at all. the page was a monument to you, all the better, and you were gorgeous on here. 2k followers with 1k likes on every post you made and comments that varied from "you're so gorgeous" to "just give me one chance." you had a highlight titled "my <3" and there was only one picture of you holding jj's hand with the song "melting" by kali uchis which was posted only a month ago.

he left your profile and went into his camera roll, into the hidden folder and scrolled back to 2018. he found the video and pressed play, his cock getting hard immediately and straining against his pants. soon enough, he had his phone pressed to his ear and his hand down his pants as he watched you and kie gathering firewood. soon enough, he was cumming in his hand to the sound of you saying that you loved his cock.

rafe managed to clean up a little and continued to watch you, well into the night as you and your friends built a bonfire and smoked a joint. it was midnight when you all had decided to leave. he followed the dirty old van back to campus and learned where your dorm was, watching you and jj head in.

rafe made it back to his dorm at around 3:30am. the more he learned, the more questions he had. rafe fell asleep with only one thing on his mind.

you.

#rafe cameron x bunny!reader #rafe cameron prompt #dark rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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natsgrave · 1 day

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TO BE LOVED IS TO BE KNOWN | wanda maximoff

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you. I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you. I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night, and now I see daylight, I only see daylight. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime! masterlist

In the heart of a bustling city, amidst the clamor of everyday life, there was a small bookstore called "Whispering Pages." This quaint shop, with its creaky wooden floors and shelves overflowing with books, was a sanctuary for those seeking solace and understanding in the pages of stories. It was here that two souls, Y/N and Wanda, found each other and began a journey that would teach them the true meaning of love.

Wanda was a quiet, introspective woman with a penchant for losing herself in the worlds crafted by her favorite authors. Her days were spent managing the bookstore, and her nights were filled with the comfort of a good book. She was content in her solitude, finding companionship in the characters and stories she cherished.

Y/N, on the other hand, was a vibrant, outgoing woman with a zest for life that was contagious. A journalist by profession, she was always on the move, chasing stories and capturing moments. Despite her busy lifestyle, she had a deep appreciation for literature and often found herself wandering into "Whispering Pages" to escape the chaos of the outside world.

One rainy afternoon, as Wanda was engrossed in organizing a new shipment of books, Y/N entered the store, shaking off the droplets of rain from her coat. She walked to the counter, where Wanda was carefully arranging a display of classic novels.

"Excuse me," Y/N said, her voice warm and friendly. "Do you have any recommendations for a good read on a rainy day?"

Wanda looked up, momentarily startled by the sudden interruption. She saw a woman with kind eyes and an inviting smile, and despite her usual reserved nature, she found herself wanting to engage.

"Well," she began, her voice soft but steady, "it depends on what you're in the mood for. Do you have a particular genre in mind?"

Y/N leaned against the counter, considering her question. "I think I'm in the mood for something introspective, something that makes you reflect on life and love."

A smile tugged at the corners of Wanda's lips. "I think I have just the thing." She walked over to a nearby shelf, selecting a book with a worn cover and handing it to Y/N. "This is one of my favorites. It's a beautiful exploration of what it means to truly know and be known by another person."

Y/N took the book from her, their fingers brushing briefly. She glanced at the title and nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Wanda. This looks perfect."

Over the following months, Y/N became a regular visitor to the bookstore. Each visit brought with it a new conversation, a deeper connection. They discussed books, life, and their own hopes and dreams. Wanda found herself opening up to Y/N in a way she had never done with anyone before, and Y/N, in turn, shared parts of herself that she usually kept hidden.

One evening, as the sun began to set and the bookstore was bathed in a golden glow, Y/N approached Wanda with a sense of purpose. "Wanda, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Wanda hesitated for a moment, her heart racing. She had grown accustomed to their conversations, to the way Y/N made her feel seen and understood.

She nodded, a shy smile spreading across her face. "I'd like that very much."

They walked to a nearby café, their conversation flowing as naturally as the evening breeze. As they sat across from each other, Y/N reached for Wanda's hand. "You know, Wanda, I've been thinking a lot about what it means to love someone. I used to believe that love was about grand gestures and passionate declarations, but you've shown me that it's about something much deeper."

Wanda squeezed her hand gently, her eyes meeting Y/N's. "What do you mean?"

"To love someone is to truly know them," Y/N said softly. "It's about understanding their fears, their dreams, their quirks. It's about seeing them for who they really are and accepting them wholeheartedly. And Wanda, you've made me realize that I've never known anyone the way I know you." She added, "You have a way of speaking that is uniquely on your own, a melody that dances in the air and lingers long after the words have faded. Your voice, soft and melodious, carries a warmth that can soothe even the most troubled soul. When you speaks, it's as if each word is carefully chosen, imbued with meaning and intention. Whether you're sharing a grand idea or simply recounting on your day, there's a sincerity in your tone that draws me in." Y/N started. "Your laughter is like a burst of sunlight breaking through the clouds on a gloomy day. It's infectious, a sound that bubbles up from deep within you and spills out in a cascade of joy. I love the way your eyes light up when you laughs, how they crinkle at the corners and sparkle with mirth. It's in those moments, when you're lost in laughter, that I see the purest, most unguarded version of you—a sight that never fails to make my heart swell with affection."

Tears welled up in Wanda's eyes as she listened to Y/N's words.

"One of the things I adore most about you, Wanda, is your kindness. It's not always in grand gestures, though you're certainly capable of those, but in the little things you do every day. I've seen you comfort a stranger who looked lost, offer a smile to someone who seemed down, and take the time to listen to a friend in need. Your empathy knows no bounds, and it's in these small acts of kindness that your true beauty shines." Y/N continued to ramble, "You also have this habit of tucking your hair behind your ear when you're deep in thought, a gesture so simple yet so endearing. I've watched you do it countless times, each instance a reminder of how intimately familiar I've become with your little quirks. And when you're excited about something, your whole face lights up." She stopped for a moment before gazing at Wanda's eyes, "But perhaps what I love most about you is your unwavering authenticity. You are unapologetically yourself, never trying to be anything other than who you are. It's a rare and precious quality, one that draws people and makes them feel comfortable in your presence. You have a way of making the people around you feel seen and valued, of creating a space where we can be our true self without fear of judgment."

"Y/N, I've always been afraid of letting people in, of being truly known. But with you, it feels different. It feels right." Wanda stated, tears in her eyes.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with emotion. "Wanda, you are the most incredible person I've ever met. And I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know you even better, loving you for all that you are."

It's the small things, the details that might go unnoticed by others, that have woven Wanda into the fabric of Y/N's love for her. She is the embodiment of everything Y/N cherish, a constant source of joy and inspiration. To love Wanda is to know her, truly and deeply, and Y/N count herself incredibly fortunate to share this journey with Wanda.

Years passed, and "Whispering Pages" became more than just a bookstore; it became a testament to their love. Wanda and Y/N built a life together, filled with the understanding and acceptance that comes from truly knowing and being known by another person.

In every glance, every touch, every word, Y/N find new reasons to fall in love with Wanda all over again. She is her muse, her confidante, her greatest adventure. And as long as there are new things to discover about Wanda, Y/N know that her love for Wanda will only continue to grow, blossoming like the flowers she so adores, forever and always.

In the end, they realized that love wasn't about perfection or always having the right words. It was about being present, listening, and cherishing each other's hearts. And as they stood together, surrounded by the books that had brought them together, they knew that their love was a story worth telling, one that would endure for generations to come.

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ivesambrose · 6 hours

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🤍 WHAT YOU'RE MANIFESTING NEXT 🤍

1. 2. 3.

Starting off new pick a cards with something sweet and simple that everyone can look forward to.

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected]

Masterpost

Services Offered

Thank you for the tip

Picture 1

Its likely you've felt rather helpless and alone, as though life has been testing you to the point it feels like a schedule to get to them and tick them off in your mental notepad once done. It is likely you've felt extra strained in your home environment or hometown, you may have attempted to leave but something or the other comes your way. You may have felt consistently blocked or unable to leave or unable to find a solution to a problem you've been facing in regards to your house or family.

A small part of you then decided to turn the worst case scenarios in your favour somehow. One of the ways being, "all of these sufferings will be rewarded. At least, mine will." I imagine you said this to yourself through gritted teeth. I want to tell you that the first thing you're manifesting is learning and accepting that suffering for rewards and accomplishments as poetic as they sound, shouldn't be the default settings you function under.

You're manifesting -

• A solution and clarity. No more illusions that worry you from taking the next step or making a decision.

• A community that allows you to bloom. New friends and network.

• Relocation.

• An end to apathy and boredom.

• An end to turmoil, stagnation and feeling of lack and helplessness.

• The beginning you've been anticipating as everything ends around you.

Timings: The coming 3 months.

Picture 2

You may have felt a lack of proper guidance in your life. That no matter what mentor came through or what ever path you sought to follow, everything somehow got complicated when you looked up to it. So many contradictions and so many lies. So you decided the only constant guidance are your own experiences and intuition. There's a life of adventure you seek, a career that lets you live the way you've wanted, for your words to inspire others without coming off too preachy and pretentious. Life has lacked stability likely due to external forces because you've time and time again done your best to obtain the stability that had been taken away from you. There's an intention you had set some time back and that is finally coming into fruition. Thing is, you knew it was going to happen anyway no matter how dire it seemed, you just needed to water this intention by directing your energy to it. You're manifesting -

• Increase in creativity with the energy to express it as well. Feeling in charge of your life. Leading rather than being led.

• Travelling to foreign locations for higher education or job/career. A career that lets you travel or involves travel.

• More money or increase in finances in general.

• More things or subjects to learn and achieve proficiency in.

Timings : Sooner than you expect. (Likely Gemini season for some)

Picture 3

You don't really shy away from challenges but certain incidents have made you question your faith and entire belief systems, later people and lastly yourself. You're trying to find a middle ground for yourself and also wondering how many transformations till your quiet breakdowns stop. Some of you really want to leave, something that brought you comfort is only bringing you anxiety now and giving you extreme mood swings. It seems as though you're wondering if any efforts you're putting into what you want is even worth it. Quiet your mind for some time. Even for a minute. Till the minutes eventually pass and your mind feels quiet for once. It's okay to have a head full of no thoughts at times. You're manifesting -

• Emotional regulation.

• Better health.

• Luck and expansion.

• Knowledge that you can put into use.

• For some better relationship with a maternal figure or their parents.

• Sudden wealth or unexpected wealth or property.

• Protection from distrustful and downright vindictive energy.

• Success, recognition and enjoying the fruits of your labour. Succeeding in anything you've been wanting to manifest for yourself actually. No extra steps or rules and regulations to follow. Simply acceptance.

Timings: Within 2 months.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #pac #pick a pile #tarot readers

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ronearoundblindly · 3 days

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For my favorite Steve 🥰💙🖤 (Fools Rush In)

29. Describe their nighttime routine.

30. What are their respective love languages? Do their love languages work well together?

38. Who’s got a quicker temper?

Questions are from this ask game and about this post-Endgame AU with Steve Rogers x lab tech!Reader.

There's no TV in your shared apartment because there are so, so many monitors on the compound. Steve likes some peace and quiet, to listen to records or the radio, or simply to read. Nighttime offers less drawing inspiration than daylight outdoors, but occasionally he'll putter with some sketching. That's harder to do while sitting right beside you on the couch, or while you lay with your head in his lap (and vice versa). Even if Steve reads, he has one hand on you, resting. In fact, he particularly enjoys books on tape because you two can snuggle and just relax.

This is your time to chat about the day, too, but since not everyday is very exciting, being present is enough.

All that is done in the living room because Steve is a bit of a purist in what you do where. Eat at the table. Relax on the couch. Sleep in the bed. Do not eat in the bed; that's not what it's for. Weird old fart...

It's fine to get sleepy on the couch, but it's very rare to stay asleep there all night.

For the most part, bedtime routines in the bathroom are separate. There's a His & Her's sink in the master bath, so if that's all anyone needs, you brush teeth and wash face side-by-side.

Steve starts out laying on his back with you curled up against his chest and hip. He does progressive relaxation to force his muscles to release tension from the day. He's so bulky now that this is crucial. It helps elongate his spine so when he does turn over to spoon you, Steve is properly gelatinous to mold around the back of your body.

Sometimes, if Steve can tell you're not asleep yet, he'll start humming your song, and he enjoys that he can hear your smile when you chuckle and wiggle deeper into his hold.

He runs hot, so Steve prefers a fan on in the bedroom which serves as low, white noise. He doesn't mind if you need a thicker blanket, however, he just mostly likes the air circulation.

If it's not obvious from Steve's nighttime routine, his love language is quality time. He appreciates the quiet moments you spend with him more than most celebrations. Time is precious to Steve Rogers. He understands its value. You giving him your time means everything.

(Not trying to make assumptions about every reader's love language, but I'm gonna wing it for Keeps.)

You thrive on words of affirmation, and Steve becomes better and better at communicating. He starts out so guarded because of the life he leads: his job is acts of service, he doesn't experience physical touch like other, he's...sorta terrible at gift giving, and Steve is being watched and listened to constantly. He's leery of everyone and everything. F.R.I.D.A.Y's everywhere--worse than J.A.R.V.I.S was--which takes a lot of getting used to.

He gets better, though. Steve has had to get comfortable with a lot of new-to-him behaviors. Not that he wouldn't have been nice and communicative with a girlfriend in the '40s, but he never had a girlfriend before. He's had zero practice, and at first, he's very awkward. Eventually, the words come easily, albeit always softly in public. He hates the idea of anyone else being in your relationship. They're there anyway.

Fools's Steve says "I love you" to you often, but the words have about three thousand variations of intonation and subtext, from playful to pissy. If you aren't alone, it's usually whispered.

Other than that, Steve not only tells you how lovely you look--even when you don't feel beautiful--but annoyingly and obviously means it every single time. You can see it in his eyes and his body language. It took a while to accept that he truly loves you and finds you beautiful. Your mind fought against accepting that. You were convinced by his every hesitation that it meant he couldn't possibly love you, but that wasn't true. That's not what was going on.

Steve took a while to sift through his feelings and hangups, but the question was never whether he loved you or was attracted to you. He worried whether or not he could be the partner he wanted to be to the right person.

Technically...Steve???? This one's a little complicated.

You get truly angry only after something has been stewing for a long time. Consistent, tiny annoyances or frustrating behaviors eventually boil to the surface in infrequent rages.

Steve, on the other hand, is cool as a cucumber until the most random, damndest things just 🫰🏼set him off. He's a cheeky bastard when his feathers are rumpled the wrong way. It's odd and totally hilarious.

He spends so much time as Cap letting everything just roll off his back like a duck in water. He has to go with the flow. He can only control himself and what he does in the future. He gives orders, yes, but humans err; Steve understands that maybe nothing he plans will go correctly. He's prepared for that.

But...what Steve isn't prepared for is people putting a vinyl record in the wrong dust jacket with no indication as to where the correct one will be. What kind of imbecile-- He can't stand his to-go order being totally opposite what it's supposed to be because seriously he didn't even make any substitutions! And absolutely hysterically, he can't handle there not being a 'wet floor' sign when the very shiny floors happen to be very slippery.

For a big man, Steve falls hard.

He got some great height though... Spun nearly 200 degrees mid-air before flopping the landing and bouncing against the far wall. Spectacularly funny when you know he isn't hurt. It's not even a pride or ego ding for Steve; he's simply furious that someone not-him could have been the one to slip.

So yeah, technically Steve has the quicker temper, but his anger lasts less time than yours.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @rogersbarber @im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg

@georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @claireelizabeth85 @jamneuromain

#ro answers #ask game #fools rush in series #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff

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storiesofsvu · 3 days

Text

Alex Blake SFW Alphabet

Alex Blake x reader warnings: none really, some sexual situations talked about. SURPRISE! Two things in one day! a WIN. I thought maybe sitting down and doing some headcanons from templates might help get the ball rolling on creativity so you might see a few more things like this pop out this week! <3

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Alex is relatively affectionate, especially around friends or in private. She wants to make sure her friends and partner know that they are cared about and just how much. She doesn’t shy away from a squeeze on the hand, hugs or quick kisses in public. At home with you she’s very touchy, a hand on you as often as possible, curled up on the couch with you while she reads and you watch tv. She also shows her affection by picking up little treats for you whenever she’s out during the day. Whether it’s a candy bar added to the grocery order, or a post card from a city the BAU has visited recently, she loves having something to give to you when she gets home.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

First and foremost, she’s loyal. Once she knows you, and trusts you, trusts her gut that you are a friend, she’s always going to have your back and make sure to help you with whatever it is you might need. I like to think that she’s a pretty friendly person and isn’t afraid of striking up conversations with strangers in public. She’s someone that has lots of ‘regular’s’ that she runs into during her errand running and the like, ya know what I mean?

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Hear me out: Alex is the biggest snuggler. She adores it, especially after a long day of either teaching or profiling. It’s quiet, soft, tender, the easiest way to show affection without having to move and it literally releases endorphins to make everyone feel better. She loves being sprawled on the couch and having you slotted between her legs, either propped up on her chest while you read together, or curled around her so she can play with your hair. At night she loves being tangled up in your limbs in bed, simply holding each other as you fall asleep.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Alex has been there done that. And she kinda always thought that was it for her, she’d had her love, had her marriage and now was married to the job. Until she meets you and realizes that there’s room for more than one great love in each life. She doesn’t particularly want to get married again, knowing all the extra ordeals that go along with that, but she’ll happily commit to a life partner, and lbh, if a ring and a party make you happy, she’ll definitely go for it.

I like to think Alex is a very clean person. Like, not overly wiping down every surface with Lysol constantly, but her apartment is always clean and tidy. There is almost always a coffee mug on the coffee table in some level of half drunk, but that’s about it. Her dishes are dealt with right away, things don’t get left out, everything has a home and is almost always in it. You do often tease her about her “clutter” being the pile of books that somehow seems to move from room to room (and they’re always all together in said stack, it’s never one or two moving around). Cooking wise she’s good. Nothing extravagant. She knows the basics and usually sticks with that. Though she also does really enjoy finding a new recipe to experiment with at least once a month.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

(I’m ngl. Part of me really wants to say she would like, just ghost and disappear without continuing communication. Cause.. she literally hates conflict, vanishes on her family and peaced out on the BAU without an actual goodbye.. LOL)

BUT, our girl has more respect for that when it comes to people she’s romantically interested in, even if that has faded. It’s going to be quick, a rip the band-aid off situation and she’ll likely do it at your place so that it’s private and she can leave quickly once it’s done and you have some privacy to grieve alone.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

One of these days I’ll remember that this is down here and not cover it under D, LOL. So, as stated, she doesn’t necessarily care for marriage again, but if she was to find love again she’s fully committed to it and will love you for the rest of her life. She *might* consider marriage if it’s an absolute dealbreaker for you, but it’s usually something she’ll bring up on the first date or so, so you both know from the start and the likelihood of her running into it down the road when she’s fully in love and invested isn’t as likely.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Listen, when this bitch isn’t dealing with unsubs, she is the most gentle fucking soul on earth. She is Mother. She is tender, loving, caring and just so sweet. Her touch is always soft, fingers trailing across your skin, drawing patterns on it while she listens to you tell stories. She’s generally pretty gentle and tender in the bedroom as well, she prefers to praise, overstimulate or edge, teasing with her words rather than physical pain. If you ask she might experiment a little bit more into that pool but she doesn’t like to inflict pain.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Alex is a hugger, even if it’s just a small, quick one to say hello/goodbye while she drops a kiss to the top of your head. If she’s been gone for a while she yearns for a longer, deeper one, truly sinking into the embrace, wrapping herself tightly around you as she tucks her head into the crook of your neck. Her hugs are always full of love and affection and a way to kinda say what’s on her mind without actually having to say anything. Like, you literally cannot tell me she doesn’t give amazing hugs.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

For a linguist, she’s not great with words when it comes to feelings/conveying things properly in relationships (both romantic, and platonic). So she’s gonna show you that she loves you before she actually says it. She also knows that other ways of showing love can mean more than the simple words of saying it, it shows that she actually really means it rather than just throwing the phrase around a lot. So she’s not someone who does say it a lot, she prefers to keep it for the moments when it really does mean a lot, or the extremely private, intimate moments in the dark as you’re falling asleep together.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Alex is another one of those insecure jealousy types. She’s confident in herself and in your relationship, but you are a little bit younger, and she can be more introverted. So sometimes seeing you out with your friends flitting around like a social butterfly she wishes that she could be more like that, or more social, especially when it comes to your group of people. She’s not one to make a scene about it, but there has been more than one occasion where she’ll approach you, press a soft kiss to your cheek and say she’s going home, feign an excuse of being tired or not feeling great and *insist* that you stay out and have a good time.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Her kisses are soft, tender, and only for you. They can definitely be fiery in the right situation, but she uses kisses as a primary way to express her love. She loves to kiss the top of your head, your cheek, the tip of your nose, the back of your hand, and of course your lips. When she wants to make you absolutely melt, she’ll wrap herself around you from behind and trail kisses up and down your neck until you’re putty in her hands and practically dragging her into the bedroom.

She loves you kisses no matter where you kiss her. There’s something about the little grin on your face before you leave a kiss anywhere on her body that absolutely gives her butterflies and makes her blush, even to this day. Alex has a particularly soft spot for the way you’ll kiss her inner thighs before going down on her.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Loaded question my dude.

Alex is incredibly good with kids. She loves being around them and will happily spend an afternoon running around the yard with JJ’s boys, even “suffering” through cleaning up, bath time and adores reading them bedtime stories. She’ll always offer up babysitting services for her friends and absolutely adores getting to be “Auntie Alex” but it always leaves her drained and full of a sense of missing out, especially as she watches her friends’ kids growing up and hitting milestones and she simply yearns for getting to see her own son do the same.

And to follow up with that; no she doesn’t want to have any other kids. Of her own or adopted. She knows that she would be absolutely terrified from the moment of conception that everything was going to go wrong again. She knows she would be a helicopter parent and be obsessively overprotective and every time the kid so much as coughed her mind would go straight to the worst case scenario and she knows she can’t handle that.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Her mornings are relaxed, both work mornings and weekend mornings. The only difference is having to say goodbye on workdays (and getting up a little earlier). There’s the morning paper, followed by the morning crossword, coffee of course and breakfast.

On the weekends those things generally all still happen in bed, or curled up on the couch with a couple of fuzzy blankets while you enjoy the quiet of the morning, the sun getting brighter, birds chirping outside and each other’s company.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are fun, a little more spirited, more laughter and fun sprinkled in there as you wind down from the day, likely accompanied by a glass of wine or two. Dinner is likely cooked together, even if together means one of you cooking while the other sits on the counter and keeps them company. There’s music playing through the house, stories of your days/weeks told and plenty of stolen kisses while you’re waiting for a pot to boil or timer to go off.

Evenings are spent either on the couch or out in the back yard on the fancy furniture, lounging together while you read, watch tv, or catch up on work. Alex adores the nights that you scoop up one of her books of poetry and climb into her lap so she can read to you while playing with your hair.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Homegirl keeps a lot pretty tight lipped. There’s a lot she’s going to keep to herself and it’s going to have to actually be asked specifically to her before she’ll bring it up. She’ll mention that she was married before, she likely still has a decent relationship with James so that comes up pretty quick. But otherwise it’s a little thing here, a little thing there and there’s likely still some things you don’t know about her when you’ve been together for years.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

She’s got the patience of a fucking god. Alex doesn’t do angry, she can do frustrated, or annoyed, but she really doesn’t get that angry often. And if she does she’s going to bottle it up and save it for work when she can/needs to take it out on an unsub. If the two of you get into it and things are starting to explode into something where things might be said that you don’t really mean, she’s always the one to hit pause, put a pin in it and the two of you both walk away and cool down so you can sit down and discuss the actual issue at hand later on.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

With her brain?!?

Of fucking course she’s remembering like, 98% of the things that you tell her, hell, even the things you don’t tell her. She’s just got a way. She caught the way your eyes lit up at the sight of a molten lava cake being taken to a table when you were out to dinner and the next time you were having a rough day she ordered one delivered. She borrowed your phone once when hers was dead to use your Spotify and discovered which artist you had on repeat 24/7 and of course got tickets to their concert for your birthday. You always stole a particular sweater of hers on cold days and you felt bad, giving it back after a day cause it was so cozy and she needed to be warm too so she bought it in five other colours for both of you to share.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

The moment that she knew she was in love with you. It was something small, domestic, just quietly and intimately sharing the same space for hours on end. Maybe the first full weekend you hadn’t left her apartment and seeing you move through her space with no issues, making yourself at home and she knew that she liked her home a hell of a lot better with you in it.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Alex is the perfect amount of protective. She knows you can take care of yourself and never wants to be overbearing, so she lets you live your life when you’re apart. However she is the one to always make sure you’re attentive when you’re alone at night, that your car door is locked as soon as you’re in it, if your apartment doesn’t have a security system when you meet you better bet that she’ll make you install one. She insists that anytime you’re out with your friends you call her to come pick you up when you’ve had too much to drink. If you’re out together and she can sense that you’re uncomfortable because of the idiot hitting on you, she’s gonna wrap an arm around your waist, press a kiss to your cheek and get you outta there as quickly as she can.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Regular dates not so much, but if she’s been out of town for a while she makes sure to plan something nice, it’s never anything crazy or over the top, but an excuse for you to dress up a little bit so she can take you out for a nice dinner. Anniversaries are always sentimental for Alex, there’s flowers, time spent together likely at home with a homecooked or take out dinner before the night is spent in the bedroom. Gifts for big days are always similar, they’re things that you’ve talked about loving, or something that’s rare, hard to find, something you mentioned in passing a couple of times that she happened to come across. Or homemade presents, ones made with love instead of bought with money.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Overworking FOR SURE. It’s pretty often that you have to wander into the home office well past midnight and drag her to bed. She’ll argue that she ‘only has one thing left to do’ but will thank you beyond belief in the morning. She also has a tendency to work through her meals, something that only got worse once she was at the BAU, so you’ll always make sure she has lunch packed, and if she’s teaching you’ll swing by to have lunch with her.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Alex isn’t overly concerned. She’s always professionally put together, makes sure she looks good in that sense, but make up isn’t something she delves into too much, and she’s never going to think about going under the knife for beauty things, she’s just going to hope she ages gracefully.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Hmmm….. No. I think that she would be fine. She’s always been a pretty independent person; she spent a lot of time apart from James and she never had too much of a problem with it. She doesn’t need a partner to feel secure and like she’s a whole person, she’s all that on her own. She’d also thought she was going to be single forever post divorce and had no issues with that, meeting someone new was just a happy coincidence.

X = Xtra (A random head canon for them.)

I can’t think of anything totally random so you’re getting something canon related. Her and Strauss were in the academy together and they definitely fucked or were in some kind of relationship that obviously didn’t end well. She also had a little crush on JJ, whether she realized it or not.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

She’s not a fan of dumb people, and we’re not talking like, college dropouts, she’s fine if you didn’t go to post secondary school. We’re talking plain logic, street smarts. If someone has zero interests and thus nothing to ever educate themselves on, she’s not into it. (like, this could be some insanely smart thing that like, Reid is into, or it could be something like different strains of weed, she does not care, just use your brain for something). Even worse than that to her is people who *play* dumb. She’s got zero patience when it comes to that.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Has a nightly routine that she sticks to every night, no matter what. If she’s on the road, up late, whatever, she absolutely always has to brush teeth, wash her face, apply some minimal skin care, turn down the lights and read at least a small chapter before she can go to bed. She likes to keep routine and normalcy and this really helps with that.

___________

@svulife-rl rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @evilregal2002 @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @happenstnces @whiteberryx @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @theclassicgaycousin @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me @scorpsik @riveramorylunar @h-doodles @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @s1ut4nat @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @tommyriddleobsessed @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @ara-a-bird @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @nachofriess @cx-emerald-cx @momily

#alex blake #alex blake x reader #criminal minds #alex blake headcanons #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds fanfic #alex blake fanfic

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subsystems · 2 days

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hope sending ask is ok rn, i have hard time looking resource. looking for book how to co-exist with independent dissociative parts (have system but not feel safe in saying DID yet). cannot do therapist addressing parts yet but want to cope in daily life. hope can help. or others comment/reblog and give. thank you 🍀

This ask was sent a while ago, I hope you're doing okay now anon. You say you can't talk to a therapist yet but I hope you have someone else in your life who is supportive and you can talk to about these things! You shouldn't have to face this alone.

Even though you don't have therapeutic support, it's still possible to build up communication and cooperation with your parts. I reblog a lot of tips and resources to my coping tag if you want to check that out. Here are some other resources that you might find helpful:

DID/OSDD Self-help Masterlist There are so many resources here, categorized by different topics. You'll find stuff here for both survivors and loved ones, and you don't need to have DID/OSDD to use them!

Beauty After Bruises Blog You'll find so many articles here on coping with daily life as a dissociative survivor. I love how they're written, they feel very approachable and almost calming to read.

Dissociative Living Admittedly, I haven't read many of these articles but the few I've seen have been good. I think their writing is very approachable for people who are new to all of this.

DIS-SOS Lots of advice and informative articles on living with DID here -- in both English and German! I've found some really interesting and unique coping tips here, I definitely recommend it. It's actually because of this blog that I discovered one of my favorite methods of system communication.

CTAD Clinic Youtube Channel A channel run by the director of this clinic which specializes in dissociation and trauma. I've watched probably all of his videos -- they're very good! Lots of the videos provide tools and self-help tips on coping with dissociation & dissociative parts!

Carolyn Spring's Blog You'll find amazing articles here about trauma and dissociation, but do be aware that the author is both a professional and a survivor with DID herself. She isn't afraid to talk about her lived experience, shining a light on the reality of trauma and dissociation which can be confronting but oh-so empowering to read.

System Speak Podcast A podcast run by a DID system. She talks about her own healing journey as well as interviews professionals and dives into the psychology behind trauma and dissociation. Personally, I think the website is a bit hard to navigate but every podcast I've listened to has been extremely informative and relatable!

Self-help books can also be extremely useful if you don't have access to a therapist. You can find a bunch of free downloads here! I would recommend starting with "Got Parts? An Insider's Guide to Managing Life Successfully with Dissociative Identity Disorder" by ATW. Personally, I think this is the best book to start with. It's a bit old and there are some outdated ideas in it, but I think it's a very gentle entry into learning system communication and coping with DID if you have never worked with a therapist.

Some other resources that might be useful:

Strategies for coping with distressing voices

FREE 100 page e-book for trauma survivors

Talk/vent to listeners on this non-crisis support chat line

Apply for a grant to receive financial help or a therapy box -> (Also learn about the Therapy Box Project! If anyone is able to donate, please do!)

- Sunflower

#actuallydid #actuallyosdd #actuallytraumagenic #actuallydissociative #dissociation #complex trauma #resources #DID support #sunflower answers #once again i apologize for how long it takes me to reply to asks

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petew21-blog · 21 hours

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Who will save Rivia now?

Henry looked at himself in the mirror. No, he doesn't care what he looks like. This man will do anythin for the Witcher story to be as accurate to the books and games as possible. But now he feels as if he has failed. The story is going sideways and he is contemplating if he truly wants to act in the TV series.

Scene 47

Director:"Ok Geralt. This is the scene where Jakier talks to Geralt about finding an amulet that would help them finish the banshee."

Henry:"I recall, but an amulet wouldn!t be needed."

Director:"Well... we made another change to the story. We need the numbers and the viewers want Jaskier to have another romance. But we think your bromance with a bit of spice might help the ratings. So, we'll just gve you some of the new script and then we'll let you do whatever you feels is right."

Henry:"Are you... This says that Jaksier grabs Geralt's penis and sucks it. What kind of an idiot wrote this?!? You know what. No. I am done. Sorry. I am leaving!"

Director:"Oh come on Henry. Ecerybody loves it now. Nobody cares how the story truly goes. Come back. You still have a contract!"

Henry went into the toilet to be alone for a while. A knock followed

Outside of the door Joey (Jaskier) and the director stood.

"I already said no. So there is the door, thank you very much."

Director:"Henry, if you choose this we have to replace you. And the replacement would be Joey here."

Henry pictured some of the scenes he did with Joey in the lake.

Henry:"I'm sorry, no offense Joey, you really gained a lot of muscle for the past two years, but do you two really think that Joey replacing me as the Witcher will get accepted by the fans? I don't think so."

Director:"This is your contract. You can read it after, but you signed it and gave a consent to replace you, therefore I am not doing anything worng here."

Flash of light

Henry opened his eyes. He was now standing on the hall next to the director. "What the..."

Director:"Security. Please escort Mr. Batey into my trailer and lock him up there. I need to have a word with Mr. Cavill here."

Henry screamed the most horrible words I have ever heard in my life. The director still kept smiling at me. It was kinda creepy I must say. I was nervous what he was about to tell me.

Director:"Now. Joey. Your contract also included being silent about any of the replacements. Now, you are Henry and Henry did the same. So unless you wanna go to a court with Netflix, I suggest you come back to the set in 30 minutes. We have a new lovestory to set up."

Joey went to the mirror. He was now one of the hottest men on the planet.

"Mannn. What a body."

He chcecked out the rest of this present and let's just say that Joey won't be sleeping tonight.

Another story from the inbox: Could you do an Henry Cavill and Joey Batey body swap? It could happen while they r recording the last season of the witcher

#body swap #male body swap #body switch #celebrity body swap

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heartl3ssromantic · 3 days

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Pls do literally anything pazzi, I’m in so deep 😭 something cute or more than that if you want…

hi anon! ofc!! i hope you like it i decided to make it simple and cute since im not comfortable writing smut just yet!

(also sorry in advance for this atrocious blurb (i think thats what you call it someone correct me if not!) im fairly new to writing one shots, since im a wattpad writer and it takes everything in me not to make a whole books worth of work in one post with a backstory, climax, ending, and pretty much everything within an actual book)

feel free to suggest anything!!

My beautiful secret

summary ➪ in which both azzi and paige are in a relationship that has to be kept hidden from the media. until they accidentally get exposed from a 3 second clip from one of the girls live

always taking requests feel free to send me one!

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

azzi pov! (mainly cause im so bad at writing 3rd person pov 😞)

“azzi!’ ice shouted for me from the other room. i shut my computer as i walked out of my room walking into the living room where ice and kk were. “guys im trying to study what do you want.” i wasn’t actually studying, just watching my favorite netflix show, but thats besides the point. “were gonna go live, come join us pleaseee, you never join in on any.” kk was practically begging for me to join in. i never join in on them cause i know all the questions are gonna be about paige and i.

but since paige isn’t here at the moment whats the worst that can happen? “fine whatever, let me just text paige cause shes gonna be here soon.” i pulled out my phone and typed out the message to paige as ice started the live. i turned off my phone as i pressed sent and sat down. or so i thought i pressed send and sat down.

immediately as the live started people started flooding in with tons of questions. most of them being about paige, i moved myself more off screen but to where they could only see about half my body still reading some of the comments.

like i said, most of them are asking about paige, if someone is dating paige, if im dating paige, and anything along the lines of paige.

i answered a few questions that weren't paige related, but seeing the lives comments slowly start to talk about her more i just stayed quiet not wanting to further instigate in the rumors.

after about 5 minutes i heard the door to the dorm open and paige came inside. i looked at her smiling as i turned my attention back to the live, i didn't notice paige coming up to me as she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss on cheek making me momentarily forget about the live.

"hey baby." i heard her whisper as she proceeded to kiss me on the cheek as i smiled, we soon got brought out of our thoughts as we heard kk gasp as she grabbed her phone quickly as she ended the live.

"oh shit." i said as i looked at kk with wide eyes. both kk and ice looked at me with some sort of fear in their eyes from what just happened.

"i thought you texted her! ice said to me as she pointed at paige who was now sitting next to me on the couch with a worried look on her face.

"i did!" i pulled out my phone to check paige and i's chats only to find out i didn't actually send it. "oh." is all i could mutter as i looked at paige.

"maybe no one recorded that?" she said looking for a sense of comfort.

"i highly doubt it, people always record our streams." kk spoke up as i leaned back against paige.

"you know what? let people talk, it honestly shouldn't even matter. so what if they find out were dating?" i looked up at paige as she said that with a worried expression.

"are you sure? i mean either way theres no denying it now but are you 100% okay with it?" i ask trying to make sure she means what shes saying.

"yeah, im honestly tired of having to hide our relationship from everyone, i want to be able to show off my girl for once." i smiled as she said that as my phone buzzed from tiktok.

"im glad you say that, cause that clips already getting posted everywhere." i say laughing a bit making a joke out of it.

"well whatever they have to say doesn't matter, what matters is that were happy." paige smiled then leaned down to give me a quick kiss to which i happily returned.

"get a room y'all, seriously." we looked over at kk as we started laughing at her acting disgusted.

"you're just mad i have an awesome girlfriend kk." i said to her to which she just rolled her eyes in a playful manner and started talking to ice.

paige wrapped her arms around me as we just sat there in silence listening in on ice and kk's conversation, things like this make me feel like i don't have a worry in a world.

in the arms of my amazing girlfriend, having fun with my friends, and not having to worry about what someone is saying about paige and i online.

maybe our relationship becoming public wasn't such a bad idea after all? maybe its what paige and i needed for us.

#azzi fudd #ice brady #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #basketball #kk arnold #wbb #ncaa wbb #cwbb #pazzi #pazzi is real #blurb #my fic

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ffverr · 3 days

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hello I come to you with a request. I watched x men 97 recently and was saddened by how little time the whole magneto in charge of the x men storyline got and I know he does this longer in the comics (I can't say why but the phrase "its seven in the morning max..." lives rent free in my brain) so I wanted to ask if you have any recommendation for comics from that era / any recommendations for comics with mister magnet-os because I want to get into x men comics but comics as always are so daunting

It is my great pleasure to answer this!!

Disclaimer 1, I am still going through a lot of the issues of this era but I will try my best to make it as clear a guide as I can for you!

Disclaimer 2, Headmaster of the school and leader of the X-Men are quite different positions that they kind of fused together in the 97 show so I do want to make it clear that magneto in the "seven in the morning" era is headmaster of the school, teaching young kids, while Storm is leading the X-men team and Scott is leading the X-factor team, so with that said:

Magneto's teacher arc starts in uncanny X-Men issues 199 and 200 (iconic issues containing the trial of magneto that was adapted in the show!) And then he is headmaster of the school in the book "The new mutants" by Chris Clermont, from issue 35 to issue 75. It is A LOT I admit and he gets a more minor place considering the book is about the kickass young class of new mutants that he's teaching. But it is worth checking out! Many consider this to kind of be peak magneto because.... he's trying so hard to be a good teacher and to handle all these kids and it's very humanizing for him!

I mean look at him and his 8 kids!

Now, how to get into Magneto overall? Let's get into it:

I believe it is impossible to get into Magneto without reading his ultimate origin story, Magneto: Testament by Greg Pack. It is a quick intro, it barely features his powers (not an action comic) and it WILL absolutely make you cry. I consider it essential magneto reading!

Next up: Two One shots if you want to get a quick primer on the character pre moral arc instead of sitting through his few appearances in the Stan Lee comics:

A classic one: X-Men: God Loves, Men Kills by Chris Clermont. It is an iconic comic book one shot that can be read out of continuity just to see what his deal is when he's not necessarily on the side of the X-Men but fighting for his own ideals! It's also a brilliant comic book!

If you want a more recent retelling of the first appearances of magneto you HAVE to read X-Men Mythos that retells magneto's major first appearance in the 60s in quite a beautiful and amazing way! It also has an absolutely insane magneto scene that makes me scream so do check it out as a primer! (So this would "chronologically" come before God loves men Kills)

Now for his switch from ridiculous villain of the 60s/early 70s to complexe guy in the classic era (80s), read the issues 149 and 150 from the run Uncanny X-Men by Chris Clermont. This is THE pivotal moment for "good guy" Magneto

(know that after issue 150, somehow he falls in the ocean from asteroid M, is rescued from a shark attack by Scott's girlfriend lee forester. They have a quick relationship where he struggled with his change of morals then he comes to the new mutants)

if you want to continue chronologically you read the issues 199 and 200 that I recommended at the start then go to the new mutants I talked about!

If you want MORE MODERN comics, then I advise you get right into what's happening at the moment!

House of X powers of X are two series that intertwine (you'll easily find them in the right order) by the same writer, Jonathan hickman!

It serves as a status quo change/relaunch of the X-Men universe and it is absolutely brilliant! Magneto plays a big part of the story and it's basically all about the mutants winning for once! Don't worry too much if you don't know most of the history of characters, you'll get used to it quickly (that's what I did!) I'd say it's a bold but very functional intro to X-Men comics!

Then he appears as a major character in the GREAT series X-Men Red by Al Ewing alongside Storm, his eternal equal and great duo in my eyes (funny how when he's peak she's always somewhere around)

In this he is- epic, depressed, suicidal, sassy, it's great magneto stuff! This series is widely regarded as the best X-Men comic out right now!

(if you want context for this book read the event X of Swords, or I could explain if interested)

That's about all I will lay on you ! If this is hella confusing, don't hesitate to dm me! I can detail more cleanly exactly what you have to read and when!

Good reading!

#magneto #erik lensherr #ffverr answers #comics ARE so daunting #but the trick is just to get into it until you piece together what the hell is happening and the history of it all #or in other cases you have me! who can talk about magneto and the X-Men for 5 hours to five you the big picture #x men comics #xmen #marvel #ffverr reading guides #x men #xmen 97

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rileyglas · 2 days

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Demonic Convergence - Pt. 1 - First Impressions

Hazbin Hotel OC Story x Alastor

It is here! Althea and Alastor meet an interesting new face in Cannibal Town. All the praise and credit to @laudrawin for not only providing her OC interactions but also the first incredible art piece for Part One! Story below the cut!

Meet the OCs

It was a quiet afternoon in Cannibal Town. Althea sat by the fountain, book in hand, as she waited for Alastor’s meeting with Rosie to wrap up. Thanks to Rosie the town was usually quite pleasant. Other than their acquired taste for flesh, the cannibal demons were polite and proper (so long as they weren’t too hungry).

Althea’s reading is abruptly interrupted by sounds of feral snarling and yelling, causing her to jolt to her feet. She snaps her eyes towards the sounds coming from an alley across town square. Looking closer she sees a small group of demons huddled together, growling through hungry smiles. In the back of the group Susan shouts her usual insults and profanities, “Scrawny little shit! You idiots are wasting your time! Just snap him in half! Don’t break your teeth on him!” ~Uhg Susan…~

Between the cannibal’s heads and shoulders, a tall yet thin man stood slightly hunched with blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His eyes glow teal as some bones float in front of him, pushing the cannibals away. The man looks like nothing but a sack of bones and ink and today he seems to have messed with the wrong people at the wrong time.

He huffs, the shine in his eyes flickering. He feels his power slowly vanishing as one of the bigger cannibals manages to pick up a bone and break it. Though terrified, his expression remains cold and emotionless.

Althea can see he is far from prepared to handle the group before him. ~Must be a newbie~ she thinks to herself. Luckily over the years, she's earned a good reputation amongst the town thanks to all her help during the Exterminations. She pushes past the group with ease, placing herself between the cannibals and the man, "Alright guys move out! Go find someone with a bit more meat! What were you gonna do, use him as a toothpick? Let's go! Don't make me get Rosie!" she shoos the less than thrilled cannibals away.

Turning her attention to the person behind her, she notices the blood still dripping from his mouth, "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

A couple bloody black feathers rest beneath him. His eyes stop shining, returning to their usual teal color. He's scratched and bitten, on the surface it appears as nothing serious. The demons seemed to have just taken a few tiny tastes, however the tattoos across his skin hide most of the purple bites and bruises.

"These- mindless zombies-" He grunts, frustrated. To Althea, his irritation seems to come from the unfair fight but this was far from the truth. Inside he was seething over the lack of ability to control his attackers.

His perturbed expression makes her cock her head in intrigue, "Zombies? I mean I guess - wait what was with that glowy shit? It usually takes a while for newer sinners to figure out any possible power they possess." She takes a step back, realizing this might not be some weak, everyday new arrival to Hell.

“I’m not here for chatting” His eyes flash, attempting to conjure a portal beneath him. A small one flickers at his feet before disappearing again. He huffs at how much the attack weakened him, “Fuck-“

His gaze darts back to Althea. He takes a breath attempting to speak but is only met with blood expelling from his lungs in a deep cough. ~How fine, now they’ll come like sharks to blood~ he thinks. He ponders how losing would work here in Hell or rather, how dying works. Does it just… send him to the beginning of Hell again? Does his power vanish, forcing him to train all over again? Whatever the answer, he didn’t wish to find out. He looks at the blood in his hand, realizing the gravity of his injuries.

Althea stands on guard, still staring at the man. “What!?” He barks, agitated by his more than public failure. Her eyes narrow at him, trying to understand exactly what and how much power he has. She raises an eyebrow, "Look, you can keep your secrets. However being arrogantly stubborn won't get you far here. Let me heal you." She extends a hand to him. Should she trust this stranger? Her first instinct is to say no. But she knows at this moment, he isn't a danger and obviously needs help.

"Don't touch me!" He hisses, stepping away. "Don't you dare to put a hand on me!" His body tenses despite his weakened state. It's a primal feeling. What one would see as rage was really just his fight or flight response, his pupils shrank even more if that was possible. He continues to step back until bumping into the brick wall behind him. The idea of being cornered makes his anxiety skyrocket.

Seeing his apprehension, she retracts her hand and takes a few steps back. "Yeah guess saving you from becoming an afternoon snack isn't enough to earn your trust." she scoffs, somewhat frustrated by his coldness. She turns to leave but seeing him injured and backed against the wall makes her agitation melt into something softer.

She hangs her head in personal defeat, throwing her words over her shoulder, "You obviously don't how things work around here so let me give you some advice - if someone in Hell is kind enough to offer help, you should take it."

Althea faces him once again, eyes glowing a soft pink as she draws her power, "It would be wise to have -" she flicks her wrists, summoning a few needles floating above each hand, " - acquaintances in higher places."

With another quick movement of her wrist the needles disappear. She smirks at the man's reaction, "Name's Althea by the way. If you decide to heed my advice I'll be over by the fountain." She turns on her heel and begins walking back to the town center.

"Can't you just not touch me?" He grunts, unimpressed but knowing he needs healing. "You can't trust anyone in Hell and I'm not becoming your pet for accepting your aid." He spits more blood, "Vexel." He tries to stand as straight as possible with a soft, ironic bow in introduction.

A smirk crosses her face, but she drops it before walking back towards him. "Vexel...I do not require someone to be a pet to me but I do require them to keep their mouths shut on what I can do." her once kind tone is now just as cold as the man in front of her. "But since you're not here for chatting I suppose I don't have to worry about that."

She extends a hand once more, slower this time to not intimidate him, "And unfortunately, I have to do something a little more intimate than just hold your hand. Nothing here is easy, you'll come to learn. But I promise it doesn't hurt...well it won't hurt you." She braces for another refusal, already sensing his extreme discomfort in her offer.

"I talk to no one, generally." Vexel’s eyes snap to her hand, instinctually sticking to the safety of the wall behind him. He straightens as much as he can, demonstrating his near two meters of height. Fear bubbles in his chest. He tries to subdue the feeling with deep breaths to no avail. "Be quick." he commands through a frown. As he tightly closes his eyes, the sense of a familiar presence helps ease his mind ever so slightly.

Althea sighs, feeling conflicted. It was uncommon for someone to have such apprehension towards her, especially one with his stature. He towered over her, how could he...be scared? It was hard to imagine he was actually fearful of her, so realistically, that can't be it. There's something more.

~I'm probably going to regret this~ she thinks before cautiously moving closer. Noticing he was already grimacing at the mere thought of touch, her usual method of healing (a kiss directly on the wound) would probably only make things worse. Instead, she gently places his hand across his chest before pressing her lips against the back of his knuckles.

A flash of pink lights up the alley as her power exudes from his wounds. After a few deep breaths Vexel can’t hold back any more. Overcome with disgust and anxiety, he harshly pushes her away with the back of his hand. His force, combined with the hot sting across her skin and the sharp stabbing in her lungs, causes her to crumple at his feet.

He keeps his stare just above where she fell, taken back by how his wounds had vanished. It was painless, just as she said it would, but how? A look of utter confusion paints his face.

After a tense moment, Althea brings herself to her knees, panting as the pain in her body fades. In the brief moment of contact with him, she sensed a power unlike any she's encountered before. Her thoughts race, ~Who the Hell is this guy~. Looking up, she notices his demeanor change.

"Don't think too much about it. I get the feeling you've seen crazier shit than that." her words breathless but playful. She goes to stand, staggering from the unexpected head rush of healing someone with such rooted power.

"I had." He grunts, eyes wandering the rooftops before staring back to Althea. An ease washes over him seeing how disorientated she’s become. He puffs out his chest, "I'm not interested in - contacts - but since I'm back in shape, I should be able to show you what failed with those people of yours, healer."

Taking another step back, she braces against her knees to ground herself. Static floods her ears, signaling Alastor is close by, "Well might want to make it quick before -"

A voice echoes off the walls, "And who do we have here, my dear?" The Radio Demon materializes right next to Althea. He wraps a protective arm around her waist as he stares face to face with Vexel, eyes flashing to black dials.

She steps in front of Alastor, "This is Vexel. He just had a bad run in with the locals." she says in a tone warning him to stand down.

"Vexel? What a name! I'm Alastor, quite the pleasure." Alastor sneers through a toothy grin. He extends a hand only to pull it back immediately, continuing to glare at the thin man.

"You have a guard dog too? How smart." Vexel bites, maintaining his cold stare. He cockily raises his chin with an accompanying authoritative tone, "Mind to be my test subject for a moment, Alastor?"

Alastor’s grin wavers at the odd request, "Bold to ask such things of someone you just met. However -" he hands his microphone cane to Althea before rolling up his sleeves, " - I'm all for a good show." he taunts arrogantly.

Althea looks to Vexel, eyes silently begging him to tread lightly with the demon he knows nothing about. A pit forms in her stomach, unsure of what 'test' he is about to perform. His irises begin to shine bright as he focuses on Alastor's crimson stare. Neither man dares to show their true emotions, hiding behind their own masks. One with a smile and one with a cold, emotionless stare.

The Radio Demon feels Vexel gradually seeping into his thoughts. The tips of his fingers go numb while threads of teal magic come out of thin air to embrace him, settling into every pore. Both glow with power. A silent war raging between their minds.

"Uhm Vex - " Althea squeaks out but is quickly cut off by Alastor. "I'm fine." he hisses, trying to fight against this unknown power. As soon as Vexel finds a crack, he exploits the weakness to gain control. "Too much pride." He mutters through a devilish smirk.

His control spreads, forcing Alastors legs and arms to go numb, teal cuffs now entrapping his wrists and ankles. Vexel's hair spreads and flows with power, his own body feeding on magic from their environment. His source of magic is a common one for Hell, death itself.

In awe of the scene, Althea stands speechless as she watches Alastor lose himself under Vexel's control. Her attention is broken only by a sudden whizzing above the alley. Following the sound, she notices a Voxtech drone, closely watching the events unfold. ~Fuck, Vox doesn't need to see this~

"Hey guys, this is super cool and all but it needs to stop. NOW!" she throws a needle at Vexel, hovering it just between his eyes to get his attention. "We have a less than welcome audience." she announces irritably, eyes pointed to the drone.

He releases Alastor at once, hearing the urgency in her voice. He extends his hand, focused on the roof tops. Althea watches a tiny bird-like skeleton fall from above, landing not so gracefully on his arm.

"I'll be in touch, Althea." Vexel opens a portal beneath him. His body disappears into it and swiftly closes behind him. He groans, plopping himself in his armchair. The small skeleton chicken, Heniffer as he so affectionately named her, scuttles away to fetch him a snack. Still in the alley, Alastor shakes his head trying to shake off Vexel's power. He looks up to see the drone, promptly grabbing Althea and shadowing back to the hotel. "The fuck happened to you!?" she gasps once they make it back to their room, still in disbelief of how easily Alastor fell under power. He looks to the floor, distraught and confused, "I - I don't know. But I am definitely going to find out." he growls. The feeling of defeat sparking a rage deep in his mind.

Back at V Tower, a deep chuckle rumbles in Vox's chest. Sitting in front of his many monitors, he all too much enjoyed watching the new face overtake Alastor with ease before summoning a portal.

'Ah...looks like the Radio Demon and his little bitch have finally met their match. I believe I need to meet this dark haired mystery man. He could be...quite an asset." he ponders out loud, devising a plan to obtain another ‘V’ to use for his advantage.

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