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@skeletonwoman
Hey! 👋 You ok? Haven't seen you on my dash in a while. 😟
Hey!! I’m okay! I haven’t written in a long time but I come back to reread my fics, and remember what writing felt like, every so often, thank you for checking in, I appreciate it so much
Wee woo wee woo
YOOO i also have a writing blog on here (@ doctorettes) and write for charles (actually primarily - absolute husband) and i fucking love your one shot you did with him where hes been Different ;))) your writing style fucks so hard. r u still writing for him ?? abd also yeees lets be minecraft buddies
Hey!! I went and read some of your stuff, its great! And thanks for your appreciation, it is greatly appreciated lol. I maybe write for him, I never know who I write for, just whoever the inspo sticks out for ig - and yeees hmu hmu let's be
Excuse me ppl who read fanfiction on here
SOMEONE BE MY MINECRAFT FRIEND
I wanna play with someone else cmon cmon let's do it be pals cmon yeaaaa
J is for Judgement
This is a part 2! Comes after a part 1, and a part 1.5!!
You smile at Dick when he darkens the pet stores doorway.
“Hey baby, hey baby,” he greets and you snort, coming around the counter to give him a hug. You’ve never been much of a hugger, but hell, he’s just the cuddliest.
Also he smells like a tasty man.
Pulling apart, he leans against your counter, an attempt at being casual and you hide a smirk.
“So, bestie,” he begins and you waver in place. Luckily the space is empty apart from the two of you. “I’ve got a thing tonight, if you’re interested in coming.”
“Going out on the town with my bestie?” You begin, about to rain him in stupid compliments.
“Ah- not, the town…” He cuts in and you hum, wrinkling your brow. “Dami is throwing the dog a birthday party,” his tone drags the words as if it’s a chore, even though it sounds like tonight might be the best of your life, “and it’s just a small gathering, family and close friends. I was wondering…”
He gives you a sneaky look.
“Yeeees?” you sing-song back and he licks his lips, trying to hide smile.
“If you were interested…” His mouth drags the words out and you feel like you’re vibrating from the inside out.
“Innnnn?”
“Coming with me to the party tonight?”
“Yeah!” You shout, throwing your fists in the air and bouncing around in a circle before pulling up in front of him, dropping your excitement and blanking your face. “Yeah, sounds cool, no biggie, if you want, no prob, Bob.”
Dick beams at you, still leant against the counter. “They’re going to love you.”
“You bet your ass they will, Richie!” Your bravado has his expression softening with affection, even as your stomach flips with a sudden and crushing panic. Hiding this, you catch his hand in one of yours and swing them. “I am excited to meet Barbaraaaa.”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes and grinning, before pushing off the counter and dragging you about the store.
“Help me get the damn dog a present, it can be from both of us, obviously,” he says, before muttering. “Dogs birthday party, Jason didn’t get a birthday party last year but the dog does?”
You don’t tell Dick about the guy today. You know he notes the scrawled number on your hand and he smiles a little, but when you don’t mention it, he doesn’t ask.
As you’re walking home, Dick having promised to pick you up later, you stare at your phone.
Debating.
Screw it.
Me: Hi, this is Y/N from the pet store, I didn’t get your name today
You wait ten seconds before shoving your phone into your pocket out of anxiety and instead focussing on tonights hellscape.
You have to make these people love you. You have to!
Ignoring the silence and stillness of your pocketed phone, you instead focus on reviewing what you know about Dicks family.
Surprisingly- little.
Honestly? You barely know anything about them.
Except:
He has two dads, Alfred and Bruce
He has four brothers, Jay, Tim, Duke and Damian
He has two sisters, Steph and Cass.
He has one not sister, Barbara, also his unrequited love
He doesn’t have favourites between any of them.
Luckily, as you start up your stoop and your chest starts to heave, your phone vibrates in your pocket.
Unknown Number: I’m Jason
You wait. For something, anything.
After two minutes, you’ve entered your apartment and, phone still in hand, made your way to your closet.
After ten, you’ve set the phone back on your bed and are deciding between a red bodysuit and a yellow crop top.
After twenty, you’re in the shower and anxiously shaving your legs even though you’ve decided to wear long pants.
At the thirty minute mark, out of the shower with your hair wrapped but before you apply moisturiser, you pick up the phone and give in.
Me: What do you do, Jason?
Putting it back down, without much expectation, you pick up the moisturiser once more but pause when the device beeps again.
Jason: I’m a freelancer, mixed martial artist.
Jason: Do you like lunch? Or breakfast food.
You try to grin too wide at the messages. He seems a little… unsure, maybe. You’re into it.
Me: I love lunch, and breakfast- for lunch or breakfast. What do you think about dinner?
You nab your red bodysuit and slip yourself into it, then fight on your favourite pair of pink corduroy pants. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you frown, look at your closet, frown harder.
No.
“You’re hot.” You growl to your mirror self. “I am hot. And I am loveable and tonight is going to be great and tomorrow you can go out with Jason and kiss that gorgeous face.”
His visage pops up before you, scarred and unusual.
You hope his scars are more innocent than- well, than other scars in this city.
Maybe he got them in the womb, or terrible acne that forms perfect lines.
Oh boy.
Jason: I usually work nights, late, and I’d hate to cut our night short because I need to get to work
Your lips purse.
Oh shit!
Dickard: I’m coming up, you better look hot
Shoving away your awful, awful, just awful realization, you look back up at yourself in the mirror and grimace. Throwing on a light coat of lipstick and a layer of mascara, finishing off the makeup you’d been wandering through while texting with-
No.
Leaping up, you grab your jacket- that guys jacket-
Oh hell, you’re so dumb.
Pushing out every thought to do with night time activities and vigilantes and, worse, villain criminals, you throw on the jacket, put your phone and wallet in the pockets, slip on some shoes and snatch your keys.
“Shit,” you murmur, spinning around and nabbing your perfume from the table and spritzing yourself and the jacket. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Bounding for the door, you wrench it open just as Dick raises his hand to knock. You stare at each other, for a moment, while you pant.
“Running late?”
Shoving Dick backwards into the hall, you lock up behind yourself and turn back to him with a cheesy smile. “Show me your Daddy, Dicky.”
His expression goes blank and you hiss out a breath.
“No. No! Don’t-”
“I think maybe-”
“Oh shut up,” you growl and he laughs, throwing an arm over your shoulders and leading you out of the building. “Y’know, I’ve don’t know that much about your family. Like I know the cast, obviously but you’ve literally never told me where you live, and you’ve never-”
Dick grimaces, and you can tell he’s unsure and maybe embarrassed.
“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll figure it out, I doubt they know much about me, anyway!” You laugh, your throat tight and panicked and he offers a weak smile and a quick squeeze.
“Oh, f*ck me, Dick.” You stare at the gates.
The Gates.
Not to heaven, or arkham, or anywhere so pedestrian, oh no.
“F*cking Wayne Manor, Grayson? As in Dick Grayson, adopted son of Bruce Wayne?”
Dick shrinks in his seat, driving up the lane, since the gates had opened automatically, for him.
“I’m going to kick your god damn ass, Grayson, I’m going to end you, you’re the worst, literally the worst,” the car stops, “you’re so f*cking dead, you dumb bitch, I can’t believe you’ve done this,” your door opens, “and I’m just so excited to meet your family, Dick! Hahaha!”
You take the hand proffered through the car door and rise to come face to face with- shit- Tim Drake.
Recognisable, famous Tim Drake.
“Hi! Dicks brother Tim! He’s so proud of you,” you greet and Tims lips twitch upwards at the sides, though his slightly warm, slightly protocol expression changes little beyond that.
“Welcome, Y/N, Dick’s mentioned you a lot and we’re all so excited to finally meet you. In the flesh.”
You try not to frown at his weird phrasing, only for it to get worse.
“Oh. Did Jason leave his jacket in your car again, Dick?” Tim asks, his gaze moving from the jacket on your shoulders to Dick, who is sidling up beside you.
Jacket. Jay. Jason. Phone number. Freelancer. Night time work.
Shit, shit, shit, please be a coincidence, please be a coincidence. F*cking Dick, f*cking shit, damn, heck.
You smile absently at the pair.
“Oh, no, this one is apparently very similar to Jasons but Y/N has assured me she found it in her building,” Dick assures him, and you look between the two, gauging their reactions.
Tim grimaces, and Dick frowns at him.
A vigilante gave you this jacket. You just got the phone number of a possible vigilante named Jason. Dicks brother Jay is named Jason and he’s got a jacket like this.
Please.
Hell.
You spot others emerging behind Tim, from the gigantic Wayne Manor doors.
Dick’s eyes dart to them and he slings a comforting arm over your shoulders.
“Let’s get in and out of the cold, hey Tim? C’mon, lead the way.” His voice is jovial but he holds you back a second as Tim sends him a look then starts toward the doors. His face tilts toward yours, a soft whisper coming through your hair to your ear. “I’m so sorry, I should have said something sooner, it’s a- it’s hard to explain, you know I’m adopted, we’re all pretty adopted around here and it’s such a difficult situation and its not like I have the greatest relationship with Bruce and- I’m sorry, Y/N, I should have said something sooner.”
The apology brushes over you and you tilt slightly against him, your forehead setting against his shoulder and he presses a kiss onto the top of your head.
“Thanks, kiddo.”
“We’re two years apart, you galumphing oaf.” You growl back, just as you step through the doors and come face to face with a group of people staring at the pair of you.
Your eyes lock on a beautiful red haired woman, her face stark for a long moment as she takes in the pair of you before everything on her face is hidden with a blink of an eye.
Oh crap.
You step out of Dicks grasp, pointedly, and offer a weak smile to the red haired girl. Barbara.
Shit, hell.
Everyone stares at the movement and it takes you a second before you see him.
“Is that Jasons jacket?” A kid asks loudly, Damian, hopefully, but your eyes don’t stray from the man at the back.
Jason from the pet shop.
“Relax everyone,” Dick laughs, his eyes moving from you to Jason and the pair of you stare at the obvious expression on his face. Dicks voice trails off. “It’s not Jasons…”
“Jesus and the Joker,” you gripe, your eyes darting from Barbara to Jason to Dick.
“So this is your jacket?” Dick asks, gesturing to the beat up brown coat on your shoulders. “How’d she get it? How’d you get it?”
Jasons head twitches in a shake, eyes locked on yours and you squint at him.
“No! Jason. Don’t make her lie. How’d this happen? Why’s she still got it?” He glances at the staring group and sighs. “She got it like a week ago.”
“Three days.”
You grit your teeth, glaring at Jason.
“Shall we, everyone, head into the living room? Alfred, dinner?”
Your eyes dart to Bruce Wayne, his voice and face clearly recognisable from several television segments, and you watch as the group silently and with thick tension move single file through a door. Beside Bruce, another man, Alfred, you guess, steps up close to him and murmurs something before Bruce nods.
Beside you, Dick tangles your fingers.
“Hey, best friend?”
Your eyes slide up to his and he offers you a pathetic smile.
“Dick,” you say softly, as the others exit, leaving the pair of you a moment. “Cards on the table, a group of those people who run around at night visited me and then that night you were out with Jay one of them visited again and he gave me his jacket and then he took it back but then he gave it back and then Jason came into the pet shop today before you did and I got his number and I texted him and I realized that hot guy Jason from the store was some kind of vigilante guy because of what he said and now I get here and they’re the same person and your brother Jason is the Red Hood? And he’s running around with other vigilantes who have hair the same as these people we’ve just walked into and please call me crazy, Dick, that I’m a big ol’ loon, please?”
You don’t mess with the f*cked system in Gotham and you certainly don’t get involved with someone involved with the f*cked system.
“I’m Nightwing.” Dick says in a rush. “And kinda Batman.”
Your nose wrinkles as you try not to burst into tears.
Just… One thing after another.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dick pulls you into his chest and you don’t resist. He’s Nightwing but he’s still your Dickie, your platonic soulmate. “I was going to tell you soon, but I know how you feel about all of it and I didn’t want you to hate me or my family before you met them.”
“Dick!” Someone yells obnoxiously before being loudly hushed.
“I didn’t know about this Jason thing, I wish he’d have spoken to me, this is my fault for mentioning you to them.”
You hug him tight before pulling back and shaking out your hair. Pasting on a smile, you beam at your best friend.
“It’s a party, Dick, for a dog, I think we should focus on that for now and hope I haven’t ruined any chance to make Barbara like me.” You laugh half-heartedly, before taking his hand and stepping purposefully toward the doors everyone else waits behind.
Heck this was a heck one like just definitely took a while and quite stressful to write idk what was going on
DURING PATROL OR SOMETHING IDK
Jason: I can jump higher than any tree.
Dick: How?
Jason: Trees can't jump.
Jay is for Jacket
Hi!
So i recnelty posted J is for Jacket, and i really liked it but i felt that a lot of the nuance i was seeing as i was writing wasn’t being included. And i know it can be cheap to write the same story from two different perspectives but i just couldn’t not include the thought here, it was wriggling in my brain. so this might be a mini series and if it requires more Jason POV’s they’ll pair up in title like this
It’s him, Barbara, Cass and Steph. Not his usual group but sometimes a guy just needs some time with the girls.
Or that’s what he’ll tell Tim when he starts in on him about it. More than that, the girls are savages that definitely think exactly what he’s thinking.
They’ve all seen the texts, seen the smiles, seen the change. Dick had come right out and told them, he’s met a girl and shes his soulmate. It was a small kick in the chest for everyone, for different reasons, but none of them could deny the new wind of joy at the manor. Everyone was smiling more just Dicks radiant happiness.
He’d actually taken to avoiding the place.
And tonight, since it’s just him and the girls, they give in to the curiosity and take a wander over to her building. Light stalking aside, everyone is surprised when they see her just sitting there on the ledge.
He doesn’t think she’s there to hurt herself but Babs does, for a split second. He reads it in her stutter step.
Only one thing for it, he thinks. Just to reassure Babs, he promises. Just to see if they can see what Dick sees, he wishes.
It’s a few days and he’s back.
He doesn’t have a clue why, he’s not in love with a strange girl who sits beside four idiots and somehow emits such a calming influence that the four of them are nearly drunk by the time they leave.
Barbara promised to look into that and her, without telling Tim, but he can’t wait.
So after blowing up some idiots, Jason lets Dick go when he says that she told him to tell Jason its bed time, and when it actually works, when Dick realizes they’re done for the night and he can go to class tomorrow, he grabs his face and kisses him.
Idiot.
She’s a terrible influence on him.
And there she’s sitting, staring into the bright lights and the bright night and she doesn’t react when he sits down and the wind picks up but he senses her calm at his presence. Maybe she likes him too.
The thought makes his mind whirl, both with embarrassment that he wants to steal Dicks girl and the desperate hope that she might like him too.
She shivers.
His jacket is halfway off before he’s realized he’s moved and then suddenly its draped over her shoulders.
“Thank you,” slides through the air to brush his ears and he smiles behind the mask.
“You’re welcome.” He’s unsure why she thanked him, he probably should wash the jacket.
She’s wearing his jacket.
Shit, Dicks girlfriend is wearing his jacket.
But he can’t just snatch it off her now, her arms are in it and she’s so close to the edge.
Leaping to his feet, he races off into the night. What is he going to do? He just left Dick and immediately went to flirt with his brothers girlfriend!
That wasn’t his intention, though, obviously, he just wanted to see her. Calm down.
He’s got class with her tomorrow, he never shuts up about how he can’t wait for Tuesday and Wednesday to hang out with her.
He gets it now.
No! Not the point.
He’s back at the manor before he knows it, mask off and hanging from his fingertips, knowing there’s no way he can patrol tonight and knowing he can’t go home to his dark, cold apartment. The manor always has room, and the lights are always lit and its always warm.
Hurriedly, he steps into the warmth of the foyer and exhales a long breath.
No place feels quite as much like home.
He didn’t spend much time here, in the before, but it probably has less to do with being familiar with the place and more to do with the memories of his brothers hidden in the spaces.
Damian creeps through a door and stares at him as he stands in the middle of the room like a weirdo.
“Evil Spawn,” he offers as a greeting and the kid scowls. “What’re you doing awake? What time is it?”
“Midnight,” he says with that eerie knowing voice. He shouldn’t be so young and have that voice. “You’re here very early.”
“Yeah, it really is early.” His eyes drop to his feet, still parked in the middle of the room.
“Where’s your jacket?”
He scowls at his feet before wiping the expression away and replacing it with a more defined scowl. “I fucking lost it.”
Damian scowls back at him. “What’re you going to do then? Where’d you lose it? How’d it even come off?”
“I don’t know! I think I fell off a roof, a low one obviously, and I guess it got stolen? I don’t know.” He moves toward the doorway Damian’s standing in, knowing what comes next.
“Kneel down here,” Damian gestures to the floor in front of him and pulls a torch from his back pocket. One small hand captures his cheek while the other points to the roof and moves left to right. Then comes the torch. It’s all so well-choreographed now, allowing an eleven year old to check him for a concussion. “You’re good.”
He grins up at his tiniest brother, who scowls and rolls his eyes.
Without warning him, he rises and ruffles his hand through Damians hair, drawing a vicious curse from the childs lips. “You gonna make me something to eat, favourite sibling?”
“No.” Damian immediately counters sullenly, but he heads toward the kitchen all the same. “I’m throwing the dog a birthday party, by the way. Gifts are expected.”
This is why the manor is home, this is what makes it warm and bright.
He doesn’t get the text till late. 2pm late.
Dickson Grayne: Yo is your jacket missing I think ik where it is
Dickson Grayne: if urs is missing
He scowls at the phone, deciding not to respond. He doesn’t want to lie but she clearly wore the jacket in front of Dick without realizing they were connected. He’s gotta get it back, she can’t keep it, clearly.
He stares at the clock on his phone before he tosses it under his pillow and climbs into bed.
“Can I have it back?” He blurts before he can think and she wrinkles her nose at him, clearly annoyed, though he catches her smile as she turns to collect it from across the room. She hugs it when she picks it up.
Honestly, it looks like she sniffs it.
Maybe she has no sense of smell because he suddenly really feels the need to wash it before he gives it back.
No! No giving it back. Damn.
“Here,” she says, holding it out with a sad face. “I’m sad to see it go, it’s amazing and I’m jealous you own it. Where’d you get it?”
Before he can control himself, a harsh no escapes his masked lips and she flashes a scowl at him before masking her expression.
“Thank you for lending it to me, I really appreciated it, and have a wonderful night, Red.” The words hit his back and he stops for half a second to absorb them before taking off. He can’t think of her or the nickname right now.
Despite this, he thinks about her all night and when four am rolls around, he finds himself dropping his jacket onto her doorstep and taking off.
The first pet shop he finds will be fine. He’d have gone to a supermarket but he knew the evil spawn would know and be able to tell the difference.
It’s Titus’s birthday, and Damian is demanding everyone be present with presents for the dog.
No one celebrated his birthday last year but the dog gets a full party? Sure.
The bell rings as he walks in, already heading where he can see the collars and leads. Is that what the dog needs? New leash?
The moment he thinks it a rejection follows. Ace, letting someone leash him? As if.
All the same, he takes his time looking over the options and colours. He has no idea what he’s looking for at the this point, as he moves to the dog toys. It’s a great dane? Do they need special toys? Does Titus need special toys cause he’s a “special” dog? Should he be getting him a bat shaped toy?
He moves to the cat toys. More likely to find something bat shaped there.
A tickle runs over the back of his neck and his eyes follow the feeling to see- her.
She’s here. Staring at him. Does she- know?
He never asked what Dick had told her, what she knows. Does she even know who he is? Has Dick ever even mentioned his zombie brother?
She starts toward him and his eyes flicker over her features- she doesn’t recognise him. She has no idea who he is.
A flush of pleasure fills his body as he notices her check him out.
Good.
No! Bad!
She stops next to him as he forces his eyes to the toys before him.
“Anything I can help you find today?”
She sounds so different. His jaw tightens slightly, irrationally, and he inhales an unsteady breath at the distance she places between them.
Christ, he sounds like such a stalker.
Lowering his voice to how he imitates batman, he says “dog toy.” Hesitates. “Great Dane.”
She beams at him, still distant, and gestures to a pink elephant. Her voice is pretty darn sweet when she explains. “Some customers have issues with the colour but this guy is really the best on the market right now for dogs like great danes. Its tough, light weight, machine washable and there’s a squeaker inside.”
He grabs it before she finishes speaking, absorbing every word she offers him.
Disgusting.
He can’t help himself from offering a thank you, despite the seething and roiling mass of self-loathing in his gut. No one deserves love as much as Grayson, no one.
His gaze trips down to the elephant in his hands and he smiles. Damian is going to hate this, and Titus is going to love it. By the time he looks back up, you’ve taken off and he’s following your beckoning wave just like the stupid dog he’s gotten the gift for.
A flurry of short actions finishes off the transaction and Jason clutches the bag handles in his fist.
“Thank you,” he says, keeping his voice as Batman as he can.
He turns in a rush, storming two steps toward the doorway before he feels his gut tug him hard, and spin him back around.
Without thinking about consequences, Dick, Barbara or the Red Hood, Jason nabs a pen and her wrist, scribbling down his mobile number and asking her to text him.
It’s only out on the street when the doubts and worries crash back in does he realize that he forgot to disguise his voice.
“F*ck.”
Babby: Heads up, you know who is coming tonight
Jason stares at the text, his good mood melting away. Tonight was supposed to be his brothers, his siters, Alfred, the dog and Bruce. He was going to watch his brothers be happy, ignore Bruce and give Alfred a smile. Hell, he might have even let Dick hug him and rustled the Kids hair.
Now?
Ah, hell.
yea!!
Part two? yEAH!
J is for jacket is soooo good, i hope you write a second part bc it had me feeling things, soft things, thank you (i would have just made a comment on the story but I'm to much of a chicken) p.s your writing is amazing 💛
Hi your appreciation is everything!
I'm like halfway through writing a Jason POV because I wrote that one and I had all his thoughts in my head and I had to get them out before I wrote a second part
No guarantee on either because my mental health/writing inspo is so messy lol but I love that you loved it!!
You're a treasure!!
✨Jason Todd by Nick Robles ✨
J is for Jacket
A little something different now! I’ve always loved Jason Todd best but recently i’ve actually started to learn more about the entire batfam and Jay himself, so here’s the inspo from that
Edit: i created a second/alternate POV part called Jay is for Jacket
This city is damn terrifying.
You’re a little crazy obsessed with it, the damn crazy terrifying bit.
Like its truly damn crazy terrifyingly sick.
Just a little though, right here on the corner of your buildings roof, with the moon hidden by the clouds above, and the lights sprawled before you, its incredible.
Four different people land on the roof behind you, coming from some other building somewhere, and you try not to move. This high up its usually some kind of hero running around trying to stop something bad.
Funny that, the heroes on the rooftops and the villains in the basement.
I wonder if that’s a metaphor…
Usually, if you keep still, the heroes move on quickly enough without even noticing you.
This time, you’re so zoned in on the lights and being still and quiet that you don’t even notice it until those 4 people sit themselves beside you on the ledge.
“Oh, oh!” You jump, hands gripping the edge so tightly as you wobble. None of them move to touch you, and you’re unsure if that’s good or bad.
What if you’d fallen?
“I’m not going to jump,” you offer to your visitors but they remain silent.
A quick dart of your eyes left, shows you a mop of red hair and a bat mask, and right, shows you a red almost ski mask hood. You can’t tell who’s beyond the two immediately on either side of you. Ignoring the non-gothamite voice in your head, you settle in with your guests and just watch.
It’s a long hour before they leave and you wonder how many people got mugged while they sat with you.
Then you go back downstairs and to bed.
“You’re such an ass!” You shout, kicking out at Dick, who dances away from you with a laugh. “You’re always bullying me!”
Dick laughs harder at that and you scowl. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m the best,” he promises, a twinkle in his eye and your heart thuds hard. He’s so romantic.
“Hey, Dicky,” you say softly and he pauses grinning to himself to look at you earnestly. “I think you’re wonderful, and you’re the most handsome person I’ve ever met, and I love that I got to know you.”
A bright blush fills his cheeks as you speak and he beams at you.
“I freaking wish we were in love, we would be so good at it,” he bemoans, gazing at you, eyes full of love, and you cackle.
“You couldn’t handle this, baby boy, I’d break your sweet heart.”
He nods, eyes serious and lips twitching.
Ahead, your building looms and as you step onto your stoop, you turn to your best friend. “Really, Grayson, you’re my best friend and you’re special.”
“And you’re mine. I suppose you’re special too, but, y’know, I’m extra special.” He grins at you charmingly and you ruffle his wind-mussed hair.
“You going to your class tomorrow?” The two of you both have classes on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and usually walk to and from campus with each other, even if it means getting there an hour early or leaving an hour late, just so you can spend some time together. Of course, sometimes you, or he, just don’t go to class.
“I don’t know, I’m hanging out with Jay tonight and you know how he is,” he says and shrugs.
You do know. You’ve been hearing about Jay for the past year, since you’d met your platonic soulmate in Dick Grayson on campus. Jay his baby brother, Jay the maniac, Jay as an idiot, broken Jay, stupid Jay, Jay his favourite sibling, Jay the best.
“Well, tell him I say that its time for bed and give him a Fredo kiss for me, throw him off his game.”
Your words bring another smile to Dicks face, your intent, and you trot up the steps and through the door of your building, offering him a last wave before you shut it. The plan is to make, eat and clean up dinner, then hunker down with your assignments.
That’s the plan.
It’s 10.48pm, you’d just checked the time on your phone, and you hear a distant explosion.
There’s no flash of light or mushroom of smoke so you figure its just another Gotham night, though you wouldn’t be too shocked if there was.
An hour later, a hero lands on your buildings roof and sits down beside you. He’s alone, the red hooded guy, which is odd but not suspect.
Your ass is cold, you should be doing your assessments and yet…
You shiver and startle when the man beside you moves- you’d both been so still for so long you’d forgotten he wasn’t a statue.
He sets his jacket over your shoulders and you whisper a soft, “thank you.”
“No problem.”
His voice is startling as well. It’s not rough and unused like you’d expected from someone so comfortable sitting in silence for so long. It’s actually- hell, what’s the word?
One minute he’s there, the next he’s gone.
Without his jacket.
Pulling it tighter around yourself, you’re glad. It smells nice, if a little smokey, and the residual warmth when he’d placed it on your shoulders had felt like nothing else. It lingers, fighting a losing battle with your body heat.
You’re never taking this off.
Unless he asks for it back.
Not even then.
“Where’d you get that jacket?” Dick asks, his eyes squinting and suspicious. “And when?”
“I stole it, obviously, and last night.” You don’t want to tell him you consort with superheroes, it’s a little weird, maybe braggy, definitely not something you should advertise. “I found it hanging over this,” you pat the round ball at the end of your stoops stone railing, “and now it’s mine.”
Dick stares at you for a long minute as you both walk toward campus. “Are you sure?”
“What do you mean, am I sure, Dicky? Obviously I’m sure.” You bite your lip. “I didn’t steal it, if I thought it belonged to someone in my building I would’ve asked around, you know that. I don’t want to get beat up by some angry guys girlfriend.”
Dick grins at the image, momentarily distracted and you bite out a quick question about Jay and their night last night, and he takes the bait.
He does look at the jacket strangely several times though.
It’s 6pm when a banging knock hits your door. For a second, you’re terrified.
More than a second.
Checking the peep hole, your breath whooshes out of you at the sight of a red mask.
Damn!
Unlatching your locks, you pull open the door and stare at him. He’s got to say it if he wants the jacket back. He has to ask.
“Can I have it back?”
Damn!
Your lips curve upwards even as you sigh loudly. Leaving the door open, you head across your tiny apartment to your armchair and pick up the discarded garment. For a moment, you hug it close and catch a teasing whiff of that just… Something scent.
“Here,” you say, crossing back to where he stands in the doorway and holding it out. “I’m sad to see it go, its amazing and I’m very jealous you own it. Where’d you get it?”
“No,” he says and you frown.
That’s not fair. But you don’t argue, since he’s totally capable of killing you and hiding your body.
“Thank you for lending it to me, I appreciated it, and have a wonderful night, Red,” you call after his retreating back and you watch him pause at the nickname before continuing back to the stairwell.
The next morning, rushing out the door for work, your feet tangle in material and you catch your falling self on the wall. There, waiting on the ground outside your little apartments door is the jacket. The jacket!
Grinning from ear to ear, you snatch it up and shove it over your arms and run for work.
Midway through the day, a shockingly good looking guy enters the store and you watch him browse the leashes and collars section for a long time before he wanders to the dog toys, then to the cat toys.
Your supposed to go ask if he needs a hand but he’s a bit rugged and controlled and intimidating and handsome and you’re unsure if you can move from this spot.
The shock of white at the front of his hair would be his most striking feature if he didn’t look up at that exact moment and lock eyes with you. Pretty, pretty, pale blue eyes.
This is what you were supposed to have with Dick.
This is love.
Or lust.
Both work.
Seizing on the eye contact, you head toward him with a customer smile. “Anything I can help you find today?”
For a second, his breathing seems to pick up as he stares at you and you force your smile brighter.
Oh boy.
Then he clears his throat. “Dog toy, great dane.”
His voice is weirdly deep and curt but you push past the strangeness. He’s a customer and they just be like that.
Beaming a smile, you gesture to a durable and hot pink stuffed elephant. “Some customers have issues with the colour but this guy is really the best on the market right now for dogs like great danes. It’s tough, light weight, machine washable and there’s a squeaker inside.”
He snatches it off the shelf, his eyes on you before they drop to the elephant and his lips tip up in a small smile. You wave him after you and check him out.
“Thank you,” he says, just as gruffly as before and you smile a goodbye. He turns, then pauses before turning back to you. Clearing his throat once more, he nabs a pen from the pen cup beside your till and your hand in one move. Quick as a flash, you feel the end of the pen tickling over your skin and you look down to see a number forming.
“Text me,” he says before rushing out the door in a flurry of movement, stealing your pen in the process.
Something about his voice at the end there, vaguely familiar.
i assume i’ll be writing another part but i also might not, my mind is a fickle SNAKE
Edit: Part 1.5 is noted above but here’s part 2!
Your Soulmate Sucks (2) (Warren Worthington)
Hi! This one is a sudden part two to a wildly popular fic written oh so long ago. Original fic was a soulmate AU where a band on your wrist glowed like a torch/flashlight under a pinky and then turned bright white when you met your soulmate. This new one was actually inspired by @emrysaaryn who commented this take(roughly) on the first one. I should link it, my bad. HERES THE FIRST ONE. THE ORIGINAL, THIS SUCKS(WARREN WORTHINGTON).
and heres the new one
“I don’t want redemption! I’m fine how I am!”
“You’re not! I can’t keep saying this to you, you’re not okay!”
“You don’t know me! You act like you’re all knowing and you’re not, you’re just a lonely kid without a family!”
“F*ck you, Warren, truly. Get f*cked.”
Your screaming match abruptly ended, you step through the wall without a backward glance. He’s wrong. He’s a dick and he’s stupid and he’s wrong.
It’d been a month since your parents had contacted you. Your phone call running along the lines that they were sorry, they’d continue to pay tuition but you shouldn’t come home anymore, you’re just too different, too much, too exhausting. It was a hard lesson to learn, three months into a new semester with a brand new soulmate, that you’re now alone.
You have Warren.
Except for when you don’t.
Something smashes in the room you’ve just left but you don’t look back. His rich daddy can fork out the money this time. You’re tired of constantly calming him down- when you’re apparently the one setting him off.
You can see Jubilee down the hall, and you switch to invisible mode,
You’re not in the mood for her enthusiasm right now, for her love and affection and gentle kindness that worms its way into your heart and makes you feel guilty for such things as turning invisible at the sight of her.
Instead, you traipse your way out of the godforsaken mansion- a prison now that you’ve got nowhere else to go- and into the woods behind the school.
You’ve gotten into the habit, since your parents calls became irregular at best and absent at worst, of sitting inside trees.
There’s something intensely soothing in letting go and pretending to be without consciousness, a mindless being searching for sunlight and water both from above and below. You’re ever growing, ever decaying, non-sentient.
Warren would start another screaming match if he knew just why you sat inside trees, everything about your privilege and this minor setback and the future you have together and that he needs you so why can’t you need him too.
You’re almost deaf when you hear it. Him.
Sliding out from inside the bark, you bring yourself back to a solid state and watch him move toward you.
Hes so hot.
This is a ruse. He could’ve just landed by the trees, he doesn’t need to parade himself like this.
He’s so hot, though.
You watch his cheeks flush and a smile quirks your lips.
He’s tricking you, you’re angry at him, he was so cruel.
His own mouth curves to match yours and his eyes are shy as they watch you.
You’re so in love.
Stop! Oh boy.
“Hey,” he starts, awkwardly at five feet away. “I’m sorry.”
Neither of you have said it yet and you definitely cannot be the one to say it first. He’s put together, in control. Even throwing things and screaming and crying, he’s still got that something you don’t. A power.
“I shouldn’t have said that, you don’t deserve me screaming things like that at you.”
You swallow hard.
“I hate when you lecture me,” he holds up a hand, stalling your words in your throat. “I know you’re not doing it on purpose, and half the issue is coming from me anyway, but it just… I hate being reminded that I’m not quite enough. I know I’m not and I’m trying, for you, but if you could-”
“Warren,” tears streak your cheeks and the word comes out rusty. He shrugs a little and you sniffle. He shifts in place.
“I love you, you know?”
The words appear in the air, out of nowhere, except…
“I’m sorry too,” you continue, stepping through the gap between you as he sways forward but doesn’t move. “I hate you sometimes, it’s jealousy- even when you’re a total mess, you still have this thing that just feels like power, over me, over the space, over others. I can’t help stabbing at you when you’re always unruffled.”
“You’ve seen me throw a pillow at a mirror then kick a borrowed hacky sack in a fit of rage.” His dry tone makes you grin, even as you cry.
“Even then, I didn’t doubt you’d be back together in minutes and I’m… not. I can’t seem to get myself back together and I’m so tired all the time trying to keep up-”
His arms and wings encircle you, your face pressed to the crook of his neck as he presses kisses to your ear and temple.
“It just happened, give yourself a break. I love you too but you expect too much from yourself. I know how tired you are and its been driving me crazy trying to figure out how to help you. But I can’t. God dammit.” His frenetic words make the lump in your chest lighten.
Warren cares. Warrens here. Warren will always be here.
You squeeze him tighter, your fingers clutching at the soft back of his shirt.
“I don’t mean to rush you and what you’re going through, I just want you happy and it feels like the entire time we’ve been together, you’ve been unhappy.”
“Bad for the self-confidence?” You joke, pulling back slightly so you can see his eyes.
He chuckles sadly, and vaguely nods. “I wasn’t what you wanted when we met, and I wasn’t good. Jubilee told you stuff and I bet everyone else has too. And you’ve been unhappy. I know its got nothing to do with me, but…”
“I know. You’re the same though, you had just come out of a massive trauma and I wanted to be stable for you, like someplace soft and gentle you could come to- and instead we keep screaming at each other.”
Warrens grins and you chest flutters.
Too much. He’s just hot.
And precious.
“It’s kind of nice.”
That’s not cool. You frown and he blushes but his smile doesn’t abate.
“I know gentle and soft might seem great but it’s so nice to not have to tip toe around you. Fighting with you is so relaxing. Hey, maybe that’s what you’re seeing. Whenever we fight, I know it’ll be okay- maybe that’s the thing you hate so much.”
“I don’t hate it!”
“You just said you hate it!”
You step out of his arms and scowl. “I did not say that!”
“Here we go-”
“Learn to shut up, Warren, you’re such a-”
“Like you’re not? Get over yourself, oh I’m so sad because you’re always in control, come off it!”
“I just told you my feelings and you’re yelling at me, what is wrong with you?!”
A wild grin splits his face and for a moment the skies clear and your heart flutters and the birds sing and the world is easy.
Then you remember that your soulmate sucks.
I hope everyone enjoys it as much as the first, it was a suddden hit of inspo and honestly I realize now maybe a signal i’m coming out of the you know what- its too soon to tell of course. Lets pretend this is nothing.
Sorry to the request sitting half written in my word doc, it is what it is.
ignore editing mistakes, i posted it on a high at 2am
if you’re still taking request, could you write for peter maximoff because that shit was fire!
Peter who?
Maximoff or Parker
edit: wow i am a fool
its called reading comprehension ella
but yea maybe, we’ll see how we go
Do you still take requests ? 😊
Yesssss
archie riverdale wants what scott mccall has
“the epic highs and lows of high school football” WISHES it could be “my mom does all the grocery shopping”
I got depression and stopped writing
Stiles: no one is asking you to take your shirt off. Stop taking your shirt off
Derek: can't hear you, my shirt is over my ears
