Those floor to ceiling windows Geoff has in his office are great and all, very prestigious, perfect for gazing out at his kingdom, but they have to have come back to bite him at some point.
Surely there has been a moment when he’s staring out, halfway through updating Burnie on how things are going when in quick succession he spots one of his cars screaming down the road with a barrage of police in hot pursuit, in turn chased by what bizarrely appears to be motorcycle-drawn chariots, a series of parachutes popping in the distance as a distinctly familiar jet starts to plummet from the sky, and panicked civilians scattering every which way in the face of a lone tank rumbling down the plaza.
There must have been a moment when Geoff’s pressed his forehead to the cool glass, closed his eyes as Burnie chattered away unaware in his ear, and wondered when the fuck he lost control of his life. Also, how soon it would be possible to install blinds.
You lay awake next to Jason, staring up at the ceiling. The Gotham air was hot and sticky, and your sheets and night-clothes clung to your skin. You listened to the ceiling fan spinning above you, how the pull chain for the light clicked softly against the fixture as it swung. The soft hum of the spinning blades was calming, and you felt it fan the warm air down onto the bed. The soft electronic beep of the digital clock on the bedside marked the start of another hour.
You sighed softly, and turned your head to face Jason. “Are you awake too?” you asked in a hushed tone.
Jason hummed in response and rolled closer to you. He wrapped his strong arms around your smaller frame, and you clicked your tongue at how the humidity made your skin stick to his. “Can’t sleep?” he murmured, his lips pressed against your neck.
“Yeah,” you sighed in response, draping one arm over his neck and tangling your other hand in his hair. The heat of your bodies pressed together on the summer night was uncomfortable, but you didn’t mind so much.
“Me neither,” he said, speaking slowly. He pressed a series of soft, loving kisses to your jawline. “Wanna do something?”
“Like what?” you asked, humming slightly as he kissed your jaw.
“We could go out for a ride or something,” he suggested, rolling onto his back and taking you with him.
“That sounds nice,” you agreed, sighing contently as you rested your head against his chest. You listened to his heart, beating steadily, and felt the rise and fall of his chest. You remembered the pain you’d felt when he had been dead, and the gratitude you’d felt upon his return. The gratitude you still felt every time you saw him, every time you considered how lucky you were to have him.
“Earth to (Y/N),” Jason said, pulling you from your straying thoughts. “We should go and get ready if we’re gonna go for that ride, okay?”
“Okay,” you responded, rolling off of Jason’s chest and getting out of bed. You went over to the closet and changed into clothing suitable for a motorcycle ride, and Jason did the same.
Neither of you spoke, and the buzz of the ceiling fan provided the background noise in the small, dark room as you both prepared to go out. Once you were ready, you made your way over to Jason, who waited, leaning in the doorway.
“Ready to go?” he asked, smirking down at you ever so slightly.
“Ready when you are, Jay,” you replied, smiling in return.
You walked out of the small apartment together, Jason locking the door behind you. You went down the stairway and soon you were outside. The warm nighttime air was somewhat refreshing, although Gotham’s pollution meant that the air always smelled ever so slightly like monoxide from cars.
You got to the place where Jason liked to park his motorcycle and donned your helmets. You had never expected Jason to be a safety-first kind of guy, but he was strict on the fact that you wore a helmet and the right kind of clothes if he ever took you out on a ride. You found it quite endearing.
You got onto the motorcycle after Jason and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your feet on the foot pegs.
Jason started the bike, and the engine came humming to life. “Ready, babe?” he asked, making sure he didn’t startle you when he started moving.
“Yep,” you confirmed leaning forward into his back, the leather of both your jackets brushing together.
From there, you took off, speeding quickly down the streets of downtown Gotham.
You smiled in excitement as you felt the warm wind whip against the small sections of exposed skin near your wrists and neck, and you felt the road underneath you pass by smoothly.
You watched in amazement, and fell a little bit further in love as Jason shifted his hands and feet on the handlebar and driver’s pedals to adjust to your surroundings and the texture of the road. You could practically see his brow furrowing in confident concentration.
A few minutes later you were cruising on a relatively open freeway. Only a few other cars shared the road with you. The lights around you blurred together in streaks of yellow and red against the dark blue of the night skyline.
Every once in a while Jason would shift lanes, weaving in and out of the dotted lines skillfully. The silence between the two of you was a comfortable one, and you found a strange mix of comfort and exhilaration. Comfort at Jason’s strong presence in front of you, and your arms around his torso, and exhilaration at the loud buzz of the motorcycle and the streaks of lights that whizzed through your line of sight at a million miles an hour.
You’d been riding comfortable for a while when you noticed Jason’s body tense slightly more than usual. You weren’t sure why, but suddenly you had a bad feeling in your gut. You assured yourself it was nothing, and continued to maintain the silence between you.
Jason shifted over to the right side of the road and suddenly you realized what the issue was. Out of one of the the rear view mirrors that were attached to the handlebars you saw a pickup truck coming up fast behind you.
Your hold around Jason’s waist tightened in anxiety, and your gloved fingers dug into the leather of his jacket.
“We’re gonna be fine, baby.”
You could barely make out Jason’s voice over the sound of the engine and the other cars, but you nodded your head as best you could with the helmet on, hoping that he recognized your sign of acknowledgment.
The pickup truck accelerated so that it matched your speed and for a few minutes it travelled next to you, seemingly inconspicuous.
The next thing you knew, it was shifting into your lane, pushing you closer and closer to the barrier that was on the right side of the road.
“What the hell is this guy doing?” Jason yelled, trying to slow down to allow the truck into the lane. It decelerated along him, however, and continued to push you into the barrier that separated the road from a nasty looking tangle of trees.
“What the fuck?” Jason cried out, and decided to go faster to try to slip away.
You clung onto him tightly as you accelerated rapidly.
Once again, the driver of the truck decided to follow, and Jason slowed down to normal speed in reluctant compliance, deciding that if this had to happen then it would hurt a hell of a lot less at a slower speed.
“Damnit!” he cursed as you were pushed all the way into the guardrail, and sparks flew as the metal of the bike scraped roughly against the stone barrier.
For the tiniest instant, the pickup truck driver seemed to ease up again, and shift back out into the left side, but before Jason could take the opportunity, it was crushed.
The truck sideswiped you, and hard.
The motorcycle collided violently with the guardrail, and you felt your body jerk as you collided with it.
By some miracle, Jason had managed to angle the motorcycle to stay on the road, but he was quickly losing control of the bike.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Jason cussed, as you skidded once again against the barrier. You felt like it was happening in slow motion.
You saw Jason’s hands being torn away from the handgrips as sparks flew all around you and chunks of shrapnel soared through the air.
The instant dragged out for what felt like minutes, but soon time caught up to you, and you saw concrete flying towards your face, or maybe you were flying towards the concrete. You heard a loud crack as the face shield of your helmet hit the pavement and your body collided horizontally with the road.
Everything was hazy as Jason slowly awoke. He felt concrete underneath him and his head hurt like hell. In a strange daze, Jason slowly sat up and removed his helmet, trying to see his surroundings through bleary eyes. He could hear his own heartbeat as well as the blood rushing through his veins. Everything echoed strangely.
His vision cleared up slightly, and he could see what was around him. He could see that his bike was trashed, ripped into chunks of smoking metal, and he could see blood on the road. That was strange. Blood on the road? He wasn’t bleeding.
A slow realization dawned on him, and he felt a pit form in his stomach. He felt useless as he crawled towards the wreckage of the bike, unable to make himself stand. He tried to call out your name, but his voice failed him. It was dark, and the only light by which he could see was a street light a small distance away.
He saw a small form lying in the road just a few feet ahead, and he forced himself to get to it– get to you– as fast as he could.
You were lying face down in the road, your limbs splayed out at awkward angles. The fiberglass of your helmet was scratched up badly. Your clothes were ripped and torn and blood soaked several sections of your clothing.
Jason’s heart dropped. He couldn’t tell if you were even alive anymore. Gently, he removed your helmet, careful not to jostle your body. But then again, for all he knew, there was nothing but a corpse in his arms. He was relieved to find your face was mostly unscathed, with only a few minor scratches and bruises here and there.Carefully and slowly, he peeled away your torn and bloodied jacket. The lacerations he found underneath made him cringe. There were bone deep cuts and pieces of skin that had been torn, and places where he couldn’t tell where the cuts stopped and the thick streams of blood started.
His first instinct was to cry out. To cry out for help, because for the first time in a long time he was willing to set aside his pride and scream for help. But he knew better than to waste his voice crying out into deafening traffic.
With a shaking hand, he reached into his pocket to find his cellphone. His fingers wrapped around the small device as he pulled it from his pocket. The screen had cracked but was still useable, and he dialed nine-one-one from the emergency call screen.
They picked up almost immediately, and Jason managed to choke out his location so that they could send an ambulance.
The phone slipped from his fingers as he finished the call and clattered to the asphalt below.
His hand hovered above your mouth, and to his relief he felt short and shallow breaths. You were still alive. ‘But for how long?’ he thought, hopelessness clouding his thoughts.
No. He couldn’t afford to think that way. Not in this situation.
He wasn’t sure how long it took for the ambulance to arrive. All he knew was that it had finally gotten there, and every second it took felt like a second too long when he held your bruised and bloodied body in his arms.
The minute the paramedics had reached him they were asking him too many questions about things he was too dazed to remember and taking you out of his arms and onto a gurney.
Jason allowed a paramedic to guide him into the ambulance and suddenly the stress his body was under finally set in as the adrenaline wore off. He was dizzy and a newfound nausea had him leaning over a bucket with an emergency responder holding his hair out of his face.
He barely registered what was happening as the doors of the ambulance were shut and the vehicle started moving. He blinked as someone shone a flashlight into his eyes and said something about a concussion. He was moved onto a second gurney, even though he was sure he didn’t need it. Jason was vaguely aware of his surroundings during the drive to the hospital, but his thoughts mainly centered around your safety. He kept trying to ask the paramedic that hovered over him about you, but he wasn’t entirely sure his sentences were coming out correctly.
The white of the inside of the hospital contrasted starkly to the night sky and suddenly everything was indistinguishable from everything else. Just a meaningless blur of white walls and white uniforms and white machines and white lights.
He groaned slightly as black spots danced across his vision. It was getting harder and harder to think, and the bright lights were hurting his head.
He couldn’t quite place when—or if—he lost consciousness, and the next thing he knew he was lying in a hospital bed, Bruce at his side.
Request: ‘Hi could you do fan fic where Shiro
gets back from a hard mission with the team and his s/o helps him destress you
can make it smutty or not Ps love you blog!’
A/N: I love this request a lot. I
will try my best to make it smutty, but I’m not really good at smut anyway. So
I hope you enjoy regardless of the fact!
Also this got really deep and I‘m
Heathers trash so…
Song- Seventeen (The Heathers)
You and Shiro
were inseparable. As soon as he got in through that door, he had your lips on
either where your shoulder and neck met or the shell of your ear and he would
place a fond kiss on either of those places. Either way, he really cared about
you, no matter what. That also meant he gave you the responsibility that you
had to cope/calm him down when he was either stressed or angry…or both. Which
you knew was the worst combination.
Shiro as the
leader of team Voltron, knew that he had to take the most responsibility. He
had to take the fall when it came to his whole team messing up. You knew he
took the brunt of the force of the dealing blow. He would risk his life for his
team…because it was his sole duty as a paladin of Voltron. That means…you had
to be there for him when he needed it the most.
What gift do the ChoiMatos want the most and how would they hint that they want them? And to top it off, what gifts would the others give them and how would they react to them? Idk if this counts as a choimato birthday bash since it includes the rfa too but I think it'd be cute!
Countdown to the Cake: 3
What RFA gets for the twins:
I see him as the type of person who gives what he would like to have
Since he likes his bike as much as Saeyoung likes his cars, probably something related to that (don’t ask me what, I know shit about cars and bikes, let alone cool gifts related to that)
For Saeran, a very cool jacket with the finest leather and maybe some spikes. (hey, just because he’s a changed man, doesn’t mean he has to dress like a square)
He has a very limited budget, so it’s nothing too over the top, but it’s from the bottom of this heart, he makes sure to point that out in a very sweet card along with the gift
I said in that fic for Saeyoung because I truly believe he would get him some comics, maybe some shojo mangas to educate Saeyoung a little
He’s so scared of asking Saeran what he wants, so he goes for something related to electronics, maybe a vintage game? (lowkey he wants a partner to game with, take the hint Saeran)
The most thoughtful gifts you can think of, even for someone she’s not that close like the twins
For Saeyoung, a basket of muffins and cupcakes, some of them are light (boy needs to eat something besides HBC at least this day of the year)
And for Saeran, headphones. She knows how he really needs a break from everything sometimes and some music maybe will help. She even has suggestions of nice songs, if he wants. (Spoiler: they are all from Zen’s musicals)
You may think he asked Jaehee to choose something and he would just pay, but he actually picked the gifts himself
For Saeyoung, the first exemplary of the upcoming collection of Elizabeth the 3rd dolls
For Saeran… honestly, it doesn’t matter, what really moved Saeran was the note aside the gift. “The past is in the past, now. Welcome to the family.”
What the twins want and how do they ask for it:
He doesn’t know how to be subtle.
Lemme just drop some hints I want a new cool stereo for my baby.
“Guys, don’t you think we should go on a road trip? It would be nice driving long hours non stop with some good music on. Oh yeah, we can’t because my favorite baby doesn’t have a cool stereo, it would be nice to have a cool stereo. By the way, do you know my birthday is coming?”
As for MC, he would say “ahh you don’t have to, come on… What did you get me?”
He would enjoy literally anything you’d give him.
But if it’s a cat, he would explode with happiness.
He doesn’t bother dropping hints.
If you really wanna know what he wants, just ask him.
“I want at least one day of peace and silence in this house.” “Okay, can I get you new boots too?” “Please.”
From MC, he’s too embarrassed to actually say what he wants, so he just asks a little quality time to get some ice cream in the park.
And when they’re alone and he’s feeling more relaxed, he’ll ask for his gift.