#and posted the in between step to clown on us

[tarotphil]

twins <3

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC x DP fanfic Idea: Gotham Gossip

Meta-human rights are a touchy topic in Gotham. While the city is known for Batman's view on them, it's also known for Bruce Wayne's viewpoint.

The Dark Knight did not welcome Metas, while the Light Knight worked tirelessly to employ charities and programs to support Metas. Both men- if Batman was a man- influenced Gotham so intensely that their viewpoints became the face of the public.

Even people outside of Gothman learned what "Are you a Dark pawn or a Light pawn?" meant when it was spoken about during national debates.

Really, it was no surprise that Batman and Wayne got caught up in a rather explosive public argument over the subject. Or rather, Wayne yelled at Batman during a hostage situation when his party boat got taken by a group of masked men.

Thankfully, Batman was able to save everyone on board, and although he didn't stick around to argue with Wayne, it was noted that Batman seemed intrigued by a few of Wayne's passionate rants. A few reporters were excited to point out there may be a chance of growth within the vigilante, but it was overshadowed by gossip rags that used this incident to make up a wild rumor of Wayne being a bitter ex with Batman.

This rumor runs for months, with various people posting online proof of a relationship. It sparks debate and anger, with other people responding by fact-checking and countering the "proof." Eventually, the argument moves away from Meta-human rights and falls into celebrity gossip, which has Wayne steaming.

People ignore his passionate activism to better the lives of Metas, only watching his speeches, marches, protests, and donations to various charities to gain new proof of his nonexistent romance that may or may have been in his early twenties when he mysteriously vanished to see the world.

That's when the video comes out.

A young teenager wrote a song parody of what was happening. A soft acoustic guitar accompanied his short words, accusing the masses of caring more about a wealthy man's pants being on or not than the lives of his people.

This young teenager is Danny Fenton, a known meta from a small town in Illinois. This quickly turned into people attacking the boy, who released another song using the hateful comments as new lyrics.

Wayne reposts one of his sons, claiming it a masterpiece, which is when one fan notices the similarities between the two. She makes a post talking about how Wayne and Fenton could be father and son as a joke, expecting people to take it seriously.

Overnight, the internet finds out that Fenton was, in fact, adopted into his current family after being surrendered at a fire station anonymously. More and more people started to notice the similar features between the rich man and the small-town singer until a video of Fenton using his powers was leaked.

Fenton's power is invisibility. This resembles another well-known Gotham dweller who can appear and disappear through the city's shadows. It's not long before Fenton is being called the love child of Batman and Wayne.

It leads to so much media attention and harassment aimed towards Fenton that Wayne steps in. He offers to take a paternity test to finally put the rumors to rest and let the young boy vanish from the limelight (should he stop writing songs).

The only problem?

The test is positive. Wayne is Fenton's biological son. The whole nation loses their minds when it's leaked by a very regrettable intern at the clinic where the test was done. (To be fair, the intern's email was hacked, so when she scanned the papers for herself, they were able to steal them)

Worse, Joker thinks it would be hilarious to kidnap Wayne's newly discovered son and, on live TV, give him another paternity test against Batman. The clown is laughing hysterically while his men prepare the results, only to become more gleeful when it's a match again.

Fenton is the son of both the Dark Knight and the Light Knight. It matters little that Batman's DNA is slightly messed up, as various people already suspected him of not being human.

This just proves Fenton is not a meta-human but rather half-human and whatever the hell Batman is. Joker is having a ball reading out the results, proclaiming he would help Fenton meet his biological grandparents with his one guarantee.

His words are cut off when Fetnon- unknown to the viewing public- escapes his bonds and swings an axe from the emergency fire station inside the aged wearhouse at Joker's neck. The clown collapses to the ground dead, the boy bathed in his blood, and the half-finished joke is cut off by the sound of choking blood etching across every screen in Gotham.

The remaining goons and Fenton stare at each other in stun silence while one is brave enough to rasp. "But Batman doesn't kill."

"Do I look like my absent father to you? Besides, Joker venom is a war crime. I'm within my rights, and if I'm not, I would have killed him again anyway."

Fenton quickly outshines his fathers in the public's eye because no matter where one stood on the Meta Rights, everyone stood on the "Kill the Joker" debate.

[crowsofdarkness]

Bill Skarsgard

All of my works are intended for ages eighteen years or older since most of them are smut. MDNI.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY, TRANSLATE, STEAL, OR POST MY WORK ANYWHERE.

REQUESTS FOR BILL/ANY OF HIS CHARACTERS ARE CLOSED.

UPDATED ON 06/09/25

Vampire!Bill

Shower Smut with Eric Draven

On Your Knees For Bill

A Certain Clown Facetimes You | Bill Brings Your Fantasy To Life

Red Carpet Smut

Cock Drunk With Eric Draven

Eric Draven Makes You Watch

Eric needs you to pull him from the darkness

Mustache Riding With Bill

Hate Fuck With Eric Draven

Eric Marks What's His

Eric Get's Handsy

You And Eric Make A Sex Tape

Fuck Buddies with Eric

Vampire!Eric Misses You

Valentines Day With Bill

Eric Delivers Your Punishment

Pennywise Follows You Into The House Of Mirrors

Vampire!Bill Needs You For Eternity

Prisoner!Eric Draven: Part One | Part Two

Baby Daddy!Bill Skarsgard: Part One | Part Two

You Get Handsy With Eric

Your Camera Roll Dating Bill: Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Bill's Camera Roll Dating You: Part One

Your Camera Roll Dating Eric Draven

Lazy Day with Bill

Wedding Day

NSFW Photos: ONE | TWO |

Neighbors: Bill Skarsgard x OFC! Rose-A simple chance encounter inside the laundry room with her new neighbor seems to change Rose's life without warning.

The Grey: Eric Draven(Bill Skarsgard Version) x Witch!OFC-For centuries, Nyx ran The Grey. One day, a group of thugs sneak in to steal something valuable to her and she makes it her mission to destroy everyone until she gets it back. When Eric Draven stumbles into her lair asking for help in his own revenge, Nyx agrees for a price. A love begins to form between the two of them, something that had been forbidden for Nyx. Will she break the rules for this love or use him to get back what’s rightfully hers? ON HOLD

A Fight For Darkness: Eric Draven( Bill Skarsgard) x Reader-An unknown text and a list full of questions for what happened to your sister leads you down to the underground fight ring that belongs to none other than Eric Draven, The Crow. Once he captures your eyes with his, the web you were desperate to untangle suddenly tightens. ON GOING

Who Are You?: The Winter Soldier: Bucky Barnes x Agent Fallen x The Crow: Agent Fallen was looking for a ghost, her ghost. With direct orders to shoot on sight to anyone who stands in her way, she soon finds herself at a crossroads when facing another ghost. The Crow. As they work together to find The Winter Soldier, Fallen and Eric Draven have to also work out their complicated relationship with each other. ON HOLD

Camboy: OF!Bill Skarsgard x Viewer!Reader[AU]- Bill isn't ashamed of the work he does, showcasing his body online for anyone willing to pay. His number one rule was never to make a connection with anyone who either sent him messages or paid for private one-on-one video sessions. That was until you decided to request a certain private session. ON GOING

El Este Aici: Count Orlok x OFC!Elenor-Elenor grew up hearing folklore about her family lineage. When death takes someone close to her, she’s forced to step foot into a home she was exiled from. Something draws her towards a box in the attic and once she opens it, she’s visited every five years by the darkness she was destined to always find.  ON GOING

The Bet: Eric Draven x OFC! Lucinda- Eric didn't give a shit about the new bakery that opened up across the street from his auto shop. And he definitely didn't give a shit about the pretty owner that seemed to always catch his eye. He told himself and others that she wasn't his type. So, why did Eric agree to a bet that involved making her fall in love with him within the month and then ghost her as soon as she uttered those three words? The answer is simple: he loves the thrill of the game.-ON GOING

The Mark of a Serpent: Fallen Angel! Eric Draven x Human!Reader- Eric wandered the earth for centuries as one of the Fallen, forever in debt to the one he fell for. With blood on his hands, he walks away from a murder he'd been ordered to do, unaware of the witness who had seen everything. Now to prove he deserves his spot among the Fallen, Eric needs to kill the witness. He had every intention until he saw a certain mark on her neck-COMING SOON.

Your and Bill's first time together

First kiss with Boy

Boy is tied up and you want a taste.

Size Kink with Bill

"I think I'll Keep You" and "Who did this to you?" w/ Marquis

Eddie Barish(Locked) Wants To Come Home

[prettygirl-gabi]

A Somewhat Realistic Timeline for “Through the Lens” (Up Until February 2025)

⸻

October 18th, 2024 – First Night with the Team

• Y/N joins the UConn Women’s Basketball team as the official photographer for her final project.

• She’s assigned to capture the team’s season from behind the lens, with her professor encouraging her to focus on storytelling through emotion and movement.

• Paige Bueckers, already a legend at UConn, catches Y/N’s attention almost instantly. There’s something about the way Paige moves on the court that Y/N finds captivating, even through the camera.

• Y/N starts attending every practice and game, slowly becoming part of the team’s environment.

• Paige, while focused on her super senior season, begins noticing Y/N’s presence more than she expected.

⸻

November 7th, 2024 – The Camera Incident (vs. Boston University, W, 86-32)

• During UConn’s blowout win at the XL Center, Y/N positions herself courtside, hoping to capture a shot of Paige in action.

• In the third quarter, Paige makes an aggressive block, sending the ball flying… directly into Y/N’s camera, shattering her favorite lens.

• Y/N is devastated and avoids Paige after the game, feeling embarrassed and frustrated.

• Paige tries to approach her in the tunnel, but Y/N brushes past her and leaves before Paige can apologize.

⸻

November 14th, 2024 – Locked in the Practice Gym

• KK and Azzi, more so KK already aware of the weird tension between Paige and Y/N, scheme to lock them in the practice gym, til they talk it out.

• Paige, desperate to apologize, she sees Y/N’s backup camera and records a heartfelt apology video while Y/N steps away to the bathroom. In the video, Paige awkwardly admits:

“I’m sorry for breaking your camera… and for whatever this weird energy is between us. I feel like I’ve been trying to figure you out since you showed up here. And now… I just want you to stay.”

• When Y/N finds the video later that night while editing, her heart softens for the first time. And she makes a copy and gives it to Paige at the next practice.

⸻

Mid-November to December 2024 – The Slow Burn Begins

• Paige starts showing up more when Y/N is around, lingering after practice, making excuses to talk to her, and even offering her hoodie when Y/N forgets hers during a cold gym shoot.

• Y/N catches herself taking more candid shots of Paige during quiet moments—her laugh during team huddles, her focused stare before free throws, and her rare smiles when she thinks no one’s watching.

• Paige starts posting Y/N’s pictures on her Instagram with captions that make her teammates clown her in the group chat.

• Azzi, KK, and Ice start calling Y/N “Paige’s personal paparazzi.”

⸻

December 23rd-26th, 2024 – UConn Holiday Break

• Y/N stays on campus to edit her project while the team goes home for the holidays.

• Paige, who usually spends Christmas in Minnesota, randomly texts Y/N:

“Bet your camera roll memories are missing me.”

• Y/N laughs at the text but doesn’t respond immediately.

• A few hours later, Paige sends another message:

“I’m comin back early. You wanna grab pizza when I get in?”

• They spend that night driving around Hartford, talking about everything except basketball. Paige opens up about her fear of leaving UConn for the WNBA and not knowing who she is outside of basketball.

• Y/N realizes she’s falling for Paige, not just through her camera lens, but for who she is off the court.

⸻

January 5th, 2025 – Villanova Game (Paige’s Knee Injury)

• During a hard-fought game against Villanova, Paige goes down with a minor knee injury and is ruled out for a week.

• During the game, Y/N rushes to the locker room to check on her, but Paige brushes it off, trying to act tough.

• Paige snaps, “Y/N, seriously. Go back out there,” she said, her tone softening. “You’ve got a game to film. I’ll be fine.”

• Y/n , stunned by Paige’s sudden mini outburst, responds in a soft yet firm tone telling her if she wasn’t out of the locker room and on the team bench she was gonna come back.

⸻

January 6th, 2025 – Y/N’s Grandmother Falls Ill

• Y/N gets a call that her grandmother in Georgia is sick and decides to fly home for a few days.

• Paige finds out through KK and begs Coach Geno and CD to let her fly to Georgia to support Y/N, despite her injury.

• Paige arrives at Y/N’s childhood home the next day, surprising her on her grandmother’s porch.

⸻

January 7th-10th, 2025 – Georgia Trip (Paige Finally Sees Y/N Beyond the Lens)

• Y/N’s grandmother immediately picks up on the energy between them and starts teasing Y/N about her “little basketball girlfriend.”

• Paige spends the next few days by Y/N’s side, helping take care of her grandmother and distracting Y/N with random late-night Waffle House runs.

• One night, while sitting on Y/N’ back porch during their all nighter talking session, Paige admits:

“You see me clearer than anyone else… and I want you to keep seeing me. Off the court, through the mess, through all of it.”

• Y/N feels her heart completely fall for Paige in that moment.

⸻

January 11-12th, 2025 – Back in Connecticut / Paige Finally Asks Y/N Out

• After returning to UConn, Paige finally asks Y/N on a real date.

• With KK’s help, Paige sets up a late-night picnic on a quiet beach just outside of campus.

• The setup is simple—pizza, fruit, and cookies from the dining hall—but it’s the most thoughtful thing Y/N has ever experienced.

• Under the stars, Paige finally confesses

• Y/N agrees to be her girlfriend, officially ending the months of tension between them.

⸻

January 14-16th, 2025 – Visiting Paige’s Family

• Paige invites Y/N to visit her family with her.

• Y/N meets Paige’s stepmom and little brother, Drew, for the first time.

• Drew takes an immediate liking to Y/N.

• Paige watches fondly, teasing Y/N when Drew actually manages to score on her.

• During a quiet moment, Paige’s dad pulls Y/N aside and tells her, “I haven’t seen Paige this happy in a long time. You mean a lot to her.”

• That night, Paige and Y/N share a moment talking to Paige’s dad.

⸻

January 19th, 2025 – Aubrey Griffin Checks Into a Game for the First Time in 381 Days / Paige Reaches 2,000 Career Points

• The moment is emotional for the whole team. Y/N captures every second through her camera.

• Paige and the rest of the team cheer loudly when Aubrey finally checks in.

• Y/N positions herself for a better shot view, knowing Paige is on the verge of a major milestone.

• In the second quarter, with a little over eight minutes left, Paige sinks a signature jumper, officially reaching 2,000 career points.

• The crowd erupts, and Y/N snaps the perfect shot of Paige, arms raised, soaking in the moment.

⸻

January 21st, 2025 – The Mall Incident (Marcus Tries to Approach Y/N)

• Y/N, Paige, Azzi, and Ice take a break from basketball and head to the mall for a casual shopping day.

• While browsing, Y/N’s ex, Marcus, spots her.

• He attempts to approach her, but Paige immediately moves in front of Y/N, with Azzi and Ice flanking her sides.

• Marcus, seeing the trio’s protective stance, backs off, but Y/N feels shaken.

• Later, Paige pulls Y/N aside, cupping her face gently. “You don’t have to deal with that alone. Not anymore.”

⸻

January 23rd- 25th, 2025 – dorm incident/Creighton Game (Away in Nebraska)

• Y/N goes to her dorm to get a new memory card for her camera, Marcus is there tries to trap her, Azzi and kk come with campus security to save her

• Y/N getting mentally prepared for the game coming up soon and buried herself in school work the days leading up to the Creighton game

• UConn dominates Creighton, leading 56-38 in the third quarter.

• With 00.8 seconds left, Paige attempts a full-court football pass to Sarah for a buzzer-beater.

• The ball doesn’t go in, but the effort is incredible.

⸻

January 27th, 2025 – Y/N Falls Sick Due to Stress and Legal Issues

• Dealing with the stress of the dorm incident and legal follow-ups, the school and traveling, Y/N’s body finally gives in, and she gets sick.

• Paige, being sad cause she can’t get cuddles or kisses.

• Paige insists on making Kayla take care of her since Y/N made Paige leave so she wouldn’t get Paige sick.

• Despite feeling terrible, Y/N feels warmth from the care her friends and Paige show her.

⸻

January 29th, 2025 – DePaul Game (Away) / Y/N Finally Feels Well Enough to Work Again

• Y/N, finally feeling better, travels with the team to DePaul to capture the game.

• Paige notices Y/N still looks a little tired and makes sure she takes breaks.

• Y/N still talking precaution of waiting til she is full clean of any sickness to be near Paige.

⸻

January 31st - February 2nd, 2025 – Paige Gives Y/N a Promise Ring

• Between January 31st and February 2nd, Paige surprises Y/N with a promise ring.

• Kk and Aubrey helped picked it out

• Y/N, stunned, tears up as Paige slides the ring onto her finger.

• kk and Aubrey trying to barge in on their cute moment….

And that’s all for now…..

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @0phantom0 , @yailtsv , @authentic-girl03 , @elalfywhore , @jadasogay , @vamptizm , @sitawita , @starfulani , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @thatonesuschix , .... (more to be added)

[conchcronch]

Kinktober 2024: Day 5

WC: 2700

Summary: He's overworked and desperately needs you to help him, too bad he's got a mountain of work to get through before the day is done.

A/N: I'm not all that thrilled with this piece tbh, likely I'll come back to revise it post kinktober, but let me know what you think! I've been lovingly calling this part 'Croc-Warming'

You were so tired of wandering the barren walls of Crocodile’s ship, convinced you had memorized every wood grain of every board that made up this boat. By the fourth pass by his office door this evening you thought maybe this was your chance. 

For days you had been begging for him, every moment you had in private you were running your hands along him, trying to press up against him, anything to try to draw him in. But nothing would work. His excuse of being overworked and exhausted had been reasonable, he was at Cross Guild meetings every day, coming home and shutting himself in his office until the wee hours of the morning, but it had been so long since you had touched him you were sure he was craving it at least half as much as you were. 

The heavy office door made such a pleasing sound when you tapped your knuckles against the door, pausing for a second before hearing his low voice beckon you in. “Hi” You poked your head in, watching him look up just enough to see you before looking back down at the weighty document that sat in front of him. 

“If you’ve come to whine about when I’m going to fuck you, I can make it quick. I have about 200 pages of some agreement the clown insists is a ‘bonafide’ venture for us to pursue, so I have no time for you.” You tried to not let the last part cut too deep, knowing he was overextended and hadn’t been sleeping much. But if you could just convince him somehow, you knew for a fact he would feel so much better. 

“Can I help?” You tried to keep your toe soft, stepping past the threshold of his office and closing the door behind you. The wood was cold on the bottoms of your feet, your fluffy socks doing little against the frosty waters cooling the bowels of the ship. He looked up at you, fully, pausing to pull his cigar from between his teeth as he racked his eyes over you. You had intentionally come down in a nightgown he had bought you, the deep purple fabric hugging you in all his favourite ways. ”I could make you a coffee if you wanted, to help you stay awake.” You stepped closer to him, even going around his desk when he didn’t immediately stop you. “But that might make falling asleep even harder for you.” He hummed, his cigar back between his teeth as he lowered his gaze back to the legal document in front of him. You stepped behind him, thankful for how low he kept his desk chair so you were able to reach his shoulders. “Is this okay?” You asked, leaning forward so he could feel your warm breath puff out over his ear. 

“Yeah” You silently began working the tension out of his shoulders, your fingers struggling to push deep enough into his tissue to make much of a difference but when you heard him groan you knew you were somehow helping. Slowly you worked your fingers up to his neck, digging your fingers into his dense muscle, rubbing circles with your thumbs on his bare skin. “Why do I feel like you have ulterior motives for doing this?” You could feel the vibrations of his voice in your fingers as you moved them back down to his shoulders. 

“If by ulterior motives you mean, I want to help you relax, then yes Sir you bet I do.” He grumbled at your use of the title, loving the way it sounded in your mouth. 

“Were you always so sly?” He asked, taking his cigar out of his mouth and leaning his head back so he could look up at you. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, moving your hands to comb through his slicked back locks, the gel beginning to break down and leave behind his well taken care of hair. He closed his eyes, sighing as you pressed kisses along his hairline. “I’ve missed you.” He hummed, which was the closest thing you’d get to him saying he had missed you. 

“To be clear, your advances haven’t gone unnoticed.” You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips that were pressed to his forehead. “But I know if we start, there’s no chance my work is getting done.” 

“You’ve been working 12 hour days for the last month, I think you can spare an hour or two for some self care.” He sighed like the weight of the seas rested solely on his shoulders.

“You have no idea how untrue that is.” You felt him begin to fidget, slowly pulling his head up which was your que to move away. “I’m sorry kitten” He reached around and grabbed your hand in his, tugging you to his side so he could see you, his eyes scanning over you as he chewed the tip of his cigar “and you look so pretty for me” you nodded, looked up at him through your lashes. He moved his large hand from your wrist to your body, running from your stomach up to your breast, thumbing your nipple through the thin material before dragging it up your neck, cupping your cheek in his hand. “I wish I didn’t have to work..” There was a sadness in his eyes, something you hadn’t ever seen there before. It was different from your moments of intimacy, where he looked at you with what you can only assume is love, this felt like remorse, remorse for having to choose work over you. 

“It’s okay,” You pressed your face into his palm, holding onto his forearm with both hands as you savoured this moment of quiet contact because you weren’t sure when you would next get to experience it. “I’ll leave you to it then.” Kissing his palm before guiding his hand away from your face as you stepped away from his desk, “Try to get at least a little bit of sleep.” You looked back at him as you paused at the door, noticing the way he opened his mouth for a second like he was about to say something, giving him time to decide. 

“You can stay…If you want.” 

“You don’t mind?” He looked down at the papers in front of him

“I don’t.” It was late but you weren’t about to turn down the only invite you’ve gotten from him in who knows how long. You walked over to the elaborate couch he had opposite his desk, taking up your spot in the corner and watching as he worked. 

After a few quiet moments of you watching him, you couldn’t help but shoot your shot. “Y’know,” You paused, waiting until his eyes met yours, an eyebrow quirking when he saw the look in your eyes. “If all you’re doing is reading, you could read over here.” You patted the crushed velvet cushion next to you. 

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to get much reading done if I accept?” Despite the question that went answered, he pushed himself up, gathered the papers and walked over to the couch. He sat down, next to you, his hooked arm over the back of the couch, resting the stack of paper on his knee. 

Everything about his proximity was driving you crazy, his cologne, the smell of his hair gel and watching his ringed fingers turn page after page. As you chewed the inside of your lip you scooted closer to him, leaving against the side of his chest and bringing your legs up against the soft fabric. At first you had started reading the words strewn across the pages, trying to follow the legal jargon being used but when you felt his arm wrap around you, holding you tightly against him you were reminded of the yearning between your legs. 

Very slowly you ran a hand across his chest in what you hoped appeared to be a soothing gesture, rather than that of longing. But he knew you too well to assume your touch was anything other than a pleading gesture, but despite that, he didn’t stop you. Your hand moved across his wide chest, following the lines of his muscles as you slipped lower down his stomach but stopping at the hem of his vest. Every part of your brain was screaming at you to go lower, to slip your hand beneath the waist of his dress pants, to run your hand along his cock. And gods you wanted to, you’re confident you had never wanted something so badly before in your life, but you forced yourself to abstain, knowing the Guild had become something very important to him and you didn’t want to get in the way of that. “I wouldn’t stop you.” His words came out so casually, a puff of sweet cigar smoke flowing from his mouth and down over the papers. 

“You wouldn’t?” You moved so you could look up at him, watching as his lilac eyes scanned line after line not stopping to meet your gaze.

”As long as I can still read, I won't stop you.” As if a gun had just been shot, you jumped to your knees, hands on his chest to support you as you moved to straddle his wide waist. He moved his head from side to side as you positioned yourself, your fingers working quickly to undo his belt, then his button, then his zipper. His underwear sat low on his hips, a dark treasure trail leading down past the fabric, beckoning you to follow it. ”Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so determined.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, finally watching you pull the waist of his boxers up enough that you could fish out his cock.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was half hard, the moment he had sat on this couch he knew where the night was going. He knew you were completely unable to resist him when he was so near, knowing the moment you leaned against him that he had you right where he wanted you. 

When you finally pried him from his pants, he let out a long low groan, missing the feeling of your hands wrapped around his cock. He tried his best to focus on the pages, and when your hands left him he thought he may be out of the woods. That is, until he saw you hiking your dress up over your hips, exposing your bare cunt to him. 

He opened his mouth to protest, but when you raised yourself up onto your knees and rubbed his swollen head against your soaked entrance he couldn’t stop the long moan he was too slow to smother. 

“I knew you m-missed me.” You sighed, rubbing him between your folds enjoying the way he was struggling to hold the pages steady behind you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He huffed out, the words barely slipping from between his clenched teeth. 

“I’m ah I’m keeping your cock warmmm.” You slowly lowered yourself down, his cock head pushing past your ring muscle with the sting of stretch. 

“Fuck you’re too tight.” He pinched his eyes closed and his jaw clenched. 

“It’s fine I’m s-stretched.” It was taking every ounce of your self control to not sit straight down on his cock but you knew it would be too much. “Just lemme get it all in then I’ll stop b-othering you.” Piecing your sentence together was a struggle, the feeling of his length stretching you more than your fingers ever could was causing your brain to blank. 

When you finally sat against him, his cock nestled between your tight walls you laid against his chest, a shaky sign leaving your body. “You settled now?” You nodded, one hand feeling your lower stomach, half expecting to feel him bulging out of you. 

The sound of his heartbeat steadying as you leaned your head against his chest lulled you into a sleep you didn’t even realize you needed. His hooked arm wrapping around your waist to keep you against him while his hand flipped page after page. 

You didn’t know how long you had been asleep but you awoke to the sound of a heavy stack of papers falling on the ground, his hand rubbing down your back slowly. “Fuck kitten.” He groaned quietly into your hair, his lips moving against your head as he raised his hips to push himself somehow deeper. “You’re so good at keeping my cock nice and warm.” You blinked sleepily, looking up at him through heavy lashes. 

“Are you all done?” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Think you can get up on those knees of yours and ride me?” You pressed your hands to his chest, supporting yourself against him as you pushed your body up onto your knees, his cock sliding out of your hole. “Take it real slow kitten, I won’t last long as it is.” 

His eyes were focused down at your cunt, watching it sink down on his cock. The curved side of his hook ran down your back, pressing into the small of your back and making you arch into him. “Touch yourself.” He leaned back, his hips bucking up as he relaxed into the couch. He loved watching you do all the work, his eyes following your hand as it slid down your stomach, your fingers slipping down until your clit was between your index and middle fingers. You moved them slowly, rubbing along either side of the sensitive bud as you rode him. “How’s it feel?” 

You nodded, furrowing your brows as you pinched your eyes closed in an attempt to put together a coherent sentence. “It feels…fuck it feels as good as the first time.” His hand moved from your hip to your cheek, drawing you into a kiss. It felt like it had been years since he had kissed you like this, tongue sliding along yours as he groaned into your mouth. “Croc” you whispered as he swallowed your words “Will you cum inside me?” He didn’t answer right away, just smiled against your lips. 

“Only if you cum first.” You nodded, his lips overtaking your own again, ending any further conversation. The combination of your fingers moving against your clit, his tongue entertaining with your own and his cock bullying its way against your cervix, it didn’t take long for you to clench around him as the crashing wave of orgasm overtook you. 

Your legs tensed, slamming you down and taking him as deep as he could go. Your walls quivered around him, ushering him to his own climax. The air was knocked from his lungs, the pleasure overtaking his body entirely as he filled you with his cum. The feeling of warmth flooded you, and just when you thought you could never feel more full then you did, he just kept going. His hips thrusted up into you, each thrust weaker than the last until they slowed and you could lay limply against him. 

“Fuck” was the only word he could produce, all others seems too far away. He rubbed his hand along your back, not minding the thin layer of sweat that had gathered on any exposed skin. “Kitten, let’s get you up.” He leaned forward, speaking directly in your ear. 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“I’m not ready to move yet.” Your voice was raspy, clearly you had been louder than you realized. 

 “I want to get you cleaned up before bed.” Your eyelids feel heavy and the stiffness in your hips was beginning to morph into a pain. “I’ll run us a bath and then we can get some sleep.” A bath sounded so nice, you wanted to tell him how badly you wanted that, but words were just out of reach. 

“You’re…you’re going to come to bed tonight?” Slowly he lifted you off his cock, shifting you to being carried bridal style as he walked through the halls you had spent so much time pacing through, waiting for him to finally let you in. 

[macrocest]

Introducing Springcest Fest!

Springcest Fest is a shipcest (fictional incest) bingo event with a special challenge: to include all 3 squares of your bingo in one work. 

You can choose from any of three of the 3x3 bingo cards below (they are also on BlueSky). 

The pink card was designed by @cassetteinability, the yellow card by @goldenbi, and the white card by @litcest, with help from @rotting-clowns.

The goal is the same as any other bingo: to make a row, column, or diagonal by using each of the prompts, except this time you have to include them all in one work… or if you’re feeling particularly inspired: a full blackout card where you fill every prompt in one work. 

This event will run from April 20th to June 20th.

Works do not need to be posted specifically on AO3, they can be posted anywhere. Any type of creation is accepted for this event except those generated by AI. Examples of what you could create: fic, digital art, a painting, a moodboard, a rec post of a book that fits the prompts, a playlist, origami, a sweater, a pie… If you can make it fit the prompt then go for it!

Link to the AO3 Collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SpringCest

Macrocest is on Tumblr, Bluesky, and Dreamwidth. Microcest is on Tumblr, Bluesky, and Dreamwidth.

Q: Will it count if I make canonically non-related characters be related in this event?  A: Absolutely, you can do that! They do NOT need to be related in canon for it to count in this event. You can make them related in any way that you please (including siblings, parent/child, long lost uncle/aunt, or even pseudocest like step-siblings, godparent/godchild, whatever!) You could even make it incest-roleplay (aka fauxcest) between non-related characters.

Q: Can I use each prompt in a different chapter? A: Yes, as long as they are all in one single work.

Q: I have two different AO3 accounts, could I do two bingo cards? A: Yes, you can do multiple bingo cards!

Q: Could I do two bingo cards? A: Yes, you can do multiple bingo cards!

Q: Can I post the bingo card on social media? A: Absolutely! And if you want you can tag us too!

Q: Can we write NSFW for a prompt? A: Absolutely!

Q: Could I make art? A: YES!!!! PLEASE DO!!!

Q: Is faux-cest allowed? As in people not blood related partaking in roleplay? A: Yes! Faux-cest, pseudo-incest, step-siblings, incest play, implied incest, etc. are allowed.

Q: If I post a link to my work on Tumblr/BlueSky will you reblog my post? A: Yes, we will reblog every work that tags our Tumblr/BlueSky account. Give us 72 hours to have it reblogged before reaching out to us about it. If we still have not reposted it in that time, then please feel free to DM or send us an ask about it.

Q: How should I incorporate the prompts into my work? A: Feel free to use the exact word/phrase in your work, or just use the prompt as a general idea. (Example: if the prompt is ‘not in the swimming pool!’ then you can use that as a quote from one of the characters, or simply write about a scene where something ensues that maybe shouldn’t be done in a swimming pool.)

Q: I don't think I understand this prompt... A: Do not be afraid you will get the prompt “wrong,” they are all up to your interpretation. However, if you really need a clarification or there is a confusing typo, please email us.

Q: What is the word count requirement? A: There are no word count requirements! You can go as short or as long as you would like.

Q: Can I change the spelling in my prompt? A: Yes! You can change the spelling since they are all Americanized, and you may do the in-universe equivalent of the object (e.g. “Family Portrait” instead of “Family Photo”).

Q: One of the prompts says "mom" but my pairing is not with the mom. What should I do? A: Some of the prompts have suggested family members. These are simply suggestions. You can switch these if they do not fit your fandom, but also remember the mentioned family member does not need to be part of the pairing to be a part of the story/prompt. (e.g. "Mom's favorite" could be a brocest main pairing where one brother is jealous of the other being mom's favorite.)

Q: It's past June 2025. Can I still post a fic/art in this collection? A: Yes, you can still submit a work after June 2025.

Q: Can we combine a prompt here with another event? A: Yes! As long as it follows the rules of both/all of the events!

Q: Can I submit the work on AO3 anonymously? A: You can absolutely submit your work anonymously.

Q: When are these works due? A: The due date is June 20th, 2025, however the collection will remain open for works indefinitely. If it’s past that date and you want to post, please do! 

Q: Can I mix 2 of the bingo cards? A: Yes, you can mix the prompts into one story and cross off both prompts! However you still need bingo on at least one card to get an official bingo. 

Q: Can I write a whole fic with each chapter being about one prompt? A: Yes, you can definitely write one fic where each chapter is a different prompt! It does not need to be a oneshot.

Q: Do reader-insert fics count? A: Yes! We accept reader insert fics! 

Q: Do you allow RPF (real person fiction)? A: Yes! We accept RPF works! 

Q: I liked a prompt so much I used it for another pairing that's not incest. What should I do? A: If it is pseudocest or fauxcest or has incest themes then it can still be used in this collection. But, if you use a prompt for a non-incest pairing with no incest themes, just add it to our Oops Not Incest collection instead!

Q: I have another question that wasn’t answered here. Is there somewhere else I can ask? A: Any other questions can be asked by sending us an ask on Tumblr, emailing us at macrocest@pm.me, or tagging us on Bluesky.

Rules:

1. All works/creations need to include (fictional) incest, but every fandom is welcome! 2. Relationships can include more than just the incest pairing, but the incest pairing must feature. 3. NSFW, kinky, Dead Dove and dark content is welcome, but please tag them accordingly. 4. No AI or LLM (Large Language Model/Generative Artificial Intelligence) works allowed.

[seat-safety-switch]

"Get in the fucking car, loser. My name is Detective Tina Clownhater, I came from Upper Precinct, and we're going to the fucking circus. One of the clowns was found dead in among about 72 others stuffed into a tiny car, and we think it's Japanese."

"The car?"

"The clown."

I'd heard of Detective Clownhater before. Read some of her reports when they came around the inter-office mail. Circus division. She also did carnivals, which people think is the same thing, but really it isn't. As we rode in silence to the Carny District, I decided I wasn't going to like her. Mostly, it was because she still clung to an outmoded, indulgent, and inefficient mode of transportation known as the 2003 detective-issue Crown Victoria. My own City II Turbo would have been a much more enjoyable ride, but I didn't want to press the issue. Chief was already getting on my case about racking up the mileage per diem anyway.

Maybe I should introduce myself, too. My name is Archibald Shitpope, and I'm a detective for the city police. Every detective here specializes in something – they figured it was more efficient than having us all fight over the same books in detective school – and for me, my passion carried me to Japanese-made economy cars. You'd be surprised how often they crop up in my cases. This was going to be a bit outside of my remit, being a Japanese-made economy clown, but I'm a professional. I'd do the job.

I regretted that promise as soon as we stepped onto the crime scene. Besides the copious amount of blood and viscera thrown about the scene ("explosive decompression," explained Todd the CSI, in between Instagram updates of the most grotesque parts,) the clowns had been stuffed into a Fiat. An Italian-made shitbox. It's amazing they weren't burned alive. From what we could tell from interviews, the clown used to be Takenobu Unchipiero, a famous clown actor in his home country. Top of the industry, I was assured. After a series of gambling scandals, he was forced to retreat to North America, where our standards for clowns are much lower.

I was about to ask Detective Clownhater to buy some business-class tickets to Tokyo so we could "chase up some leads" – I wanted to buy an S660 while the auction market was still soft – but the amount of boiling rage behind her eyes indicated to me that she had already assumed I was going to do that. Instead, I returned to my work of checking the crime scene and interviewing witnesses, only intermittently pausing to take a look at the latest wheels posted to Up Garage's terrible website.

That's when Todd cracked it for us. While mopping up what was left of poor Takenobu, an artificial heart fell out. I couldn't help but notice its unique design: a triangular pump that spun eccentrically in a housing. A rotary engine, in other words. No normal person would have such a heart. Mr. Unchipiero was up to his neck in debt with the Wankel Mafia.

[trafalgarology]

Please Please Please (Don't Prove 'Em Right) Chapter 6

Trafaglar Law x afab Female!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter warnings: slight mentions of doing the nasty. MDNI!

Summary:

You are the Heart Pirates' beloved cook and sniper. However, you were also an insufferable troublemaker who always seemed to get on Law's nerves. He swears he's going to get rid of you one day, but as much as he hates it, why does he find you fascinating? Was it because you reminded him of someone he was greatly fond of?

As your relationship with Law grows, he only hopes you don't fucking embarrass him. After all, he has an image to uphold as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.

This story starts off as short stories between (Y/N), Law and the Heart Pirates, then picks up into the One Piece canon timeline, starting from Punk Hazard. This is a slow-burn Law x Female Reader story!

Updates every Monday!

Cross-posted in Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57651295/chapters/146705491

Chapter 6: Chicken Feet

Chapter summary: You and Law leave the crew behind to journey to Punk Hazard. You meet Monet, but seeing Law and Monet together makes you uneasy. Chaos ensues when your jealousy reaches to new heights each time you catch them together.

A/N: HELLO! Thank you so much for your patience friends! Writer's block is gone and it's time to get rolling! This story is canon-compliant, but it's not going to follow the actual story 100%. This isn't proofread so yeah sorry lol

Also CW/TW: slight mentions of the nasty if you squint, use your imagination folks.

I also created a taglist. Let me know if you want to be a part of it!

wc: 4k

You were instantly hit with regret when you and Law stepped foot at Punk Hazard. It was a month since you and the captain dropped off the crew at Zou to assist him in his mission to stop Doflamingo, but you desperately wanted to turn around and return for them. But it was too late, and Law seemed amused with the sight of you shivering in the vast cold land of the half of Punk Hazard. 

"Wow, it's not that cold here," Law said sarcastically as he walked towards a large door by a mountainside. While keeping his head forward, you saw him look at you with a smirk on his lips. Annoyed by your captain's sarcastic remark, you stooped to the ground to grab a handful of snow and chucked it at the back of Law's black coat. The man chuckled, clearly unbothered by your tantrum.

"Shut up! If you told me that we would travel to the fucking Arctic, I would've dressed better!" you comically spat at him. 

"I told you (Y/n)-ya, you should've worn that boiler suit." the man tutted back at you.

There was no arguing that. You fought tooth and nail against your captain on wearing anything else but those damned boiler suits, and now you're paying the price for it. So you opted for a cute black fur coat that went down to your knees and black leggings, but it was not enough to keep you warm in the insane cold environment of Punk Hazard 

"I'd rather die than wear those ugly boiler suits! We're not with the crew anyway!" you argued back.

You and Law now stood in front of a giant steel door. With his slender finger, Law knocked on the door. A few seconds passed before the door scrapped open, revealing a pale white man with spiked black hair. He stood very tall, but he didn't have any legs as it was replaced with gas. His yellow eyes bore into you and Law before his lips turned into a sinister smile.

"Well well well! What do we have here? Shuorororo!" the man creepily giggled. "A warlord at my doorstep? I'm honoured!" Then he took a look at you who was behind Law, and his eery smile widened even more. "And you brought along a sweet treat!"

"Caesar Clown. I came here for some business with you." Law said with a calm demeanour. Although he spoke professionally, there was a slight tone of aggressiveness. "I've heard about your production in SMILE fruits and SAD and I'm greatly intrigued. So, I'm offering that we can be business partners, to help you with production and distribution."

"And why should I engage in a partnership with you?" Caesar questioned.

The tattooed doctor hummed before he gave his answer. "You can use my Warlord status as protection."

The pale man smirked, "I already work for a Warlord. I won't disclose his name, but the JOKER already compensates me well."

"What about extra protection from another Warlord?" you piped up behind your captain.

The two men looked at you. Law stared at you with amusement while Caesar held a bewildered expression.

"That doesn't seem to be a bad idea. Good thinking (Y/n)-ya." your captain said with praise. He then turned his head back at the gaslike man. "The JOKER may be a good employer, but he will backstab you Caesar-ya. But with me, I can be that backup plan just in case things go wrong with your little business, hm?"

"Little?! For your information, my work is greatly sought after! I am the second-best scientist in the world and my work and weaponry directly supply an Emperor of the Seas!" Caesar scoffed.

You stepped up and took your place beside Law. "More of a reason to partner with my captain! If all goes to shit with the production of SAD, who do you think is first to blame?" you piqued up.

That seemed to get the mad scientist thinking. "Well well. You're not just a pretty face after all. Shurorororo!" 

Even though you cringed at the compliment, you couldn't help but swell with pride, seeing that Law gave you a tiny smile of appreciation your way. 

"The two of you come inside! I'm warming up to this idea of being business partners with another Warlord..."Caesar started to ramble as he ushered the two of you inside the facility.

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

You really wanted to go back to the Polar Tang now.

The facility wasn't bad at all. Everything was provided: space, a place to rest, and food. But you felt that something suspicious was going on and you couldn't figure out what it was. Law refused to tell you why he wanted to stay on Punk Hazard, but you understood it was all to avoid compromising the mission. He even exchanged his heart with Monet, another person staying in Punk Hazard, so that no one could betray one another.

Speaking of Monet, you hated the woman. Something about here didn't sit right with you, but you couldn't figure out why.

As you walked the laboratory corridors, you spotted that a research room had its door slightly cracked open. Curiosity got to you, prompting you to peek inside. Standing at the door, you touched your chest and muttered 'Calm'. With the newfound Devil Fruit powers you gained a month ago, you could take away sound from yourself and your environment. And it proved very useful now that you were peeking in this room.

There, Monet was sitting on a chair, writing notes on a desk. To her left, was Law, sitting on a couch to her right and Caesar was standing in front of him. They were engaged in a conversation, and you couldn't help but listen in.

"So, you're Trafalgar Law. Also known as the Surgeon of Death. You hail from the North Blue. You ate the Op-Op Fruit." she spoke as she was writing away.

Law glanced at her as she continued to speak. "You also brought your subordinate, (Y/n). A formidable sniper and a cook at the Heart Pirates. She hails from the East Blue. You said she ate a Devil Fruit recently but no information about its type."

Monet turned from her chair to face the two men to her right. "There are former prisoners that are on this island who were affected by a poison gas. Can you heal them?" she asked. 

Your captain continued to stare at her. Meanwhile, Caesar continued the conversion. "I'll let you and your subordinate stay here, so long as you assist me and don't tell anyone else about this lab. Are we clear Trafalgar?" 

"So be it. Also, you are not to tell anyone that (Y/n)-ya and I are here. That includes Joker alright?" Law said firmly.

A light giggle passed Monet's lips. "Caesar, I say that it's fine that he stays here. Besides, he's cute," she said as she threw a wink in Law's direction, much to his dismay. 

An unpleasant shiver went down your spine as your chest started to tighten. 

Now you really didn't like her. That was strike one. 

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

 A week slowly went by as you and Law stayed at the Laboratory. You found out that there were children and giant children, who were staying at the lab because Caesar said he was finding a cure for them. Of course, you didn't believe him, and you took it upon yourself to find out that the kids were actually guinea pigs for Caesar and his messed up experiments. But with your given circumstance, you knew that Law had a plan to take down Caesar and the SAD factory, so it was a matter of being patient with him. So the most you could do right now was feed the kids and keep them safe. 

Tonight, you made the kids spaghetti and meatballs, and when you presented it to them in the Biscuit Room, which was where they were staying, they all cheered joyfully.

A small smile graced your lips as you watched the kids eat the dinner they made you.

"This is amazing (Y/n)!" a giant girl named Mocha exclaimed. She wolfed down her portions and reached out her bowl to you. "Seconds please!"

"Good thing I made two buckets full of spaghetti, you kids got big appetites!" you giggled as you gave the girl another portion. 

"I'm so glad you came here! The food you make is awesome!" A blond boy named Sind cheered.

The rest of the kids shouted with joy as they continued to eat. As you were serving the kids their second portions, you didn't realize that Law walked into the room and made his way beside you.

"Oh, hello Mr. Snow Leopard!" A giant kid named Konbu called out.

You turned your head to see your captain with a sour face. He was not fond of the nickname the kids had given him.

"Hey, Captain Snow Leopard. Fancy you seeing here." you teased.

"Don't be copying these brats too (Y/n)-ya, address me properly." he scowled. 

A cackle left your lips while you prepared a plate for him. "Oh, don't be mean. You know these kids are going through a hard time by being here, and we're the only ones decent enough to take care of them."

"You're forgetting that Monet takes care of them as well," he answered back as he reached out to take the plate of spaghetti from your hands.

The smile on your face fell as Monet's name was mentioned. Your grip on the plate tightened as Law tried to take it.

"I see that you're getting comfortable with Monet, are you captain?" you said in a high-pitched voice, laced with discontent. A smile appeared on your face again, but it was clear that you were irritated.

"I would like a plate of spaghetti please." your captain said as he tried to pull the plate away from your iron grip. 

"Hm, I don't feel like giving it to you now." you singsonged. You pulled the plate away from his tattooed hand and gave it to Mocha instead.

"Are you mad at me?" Law gritted, clearly irritated by your actions.

"I don't know Cap, did you do something to piss me off?" you shot back at him.

The doctor grabbed the collar of your black jacket and brought your face close to his. "Don't start this again (Y/n)-ya. If you have an issue then spit it out." he lowly said. 

You raised your right hand which was holding a pair of tongs, and smacked Law's head with it. The tattooed captain let go of his grip on you and proceeded to clutch his head as he stumbled back in surprise.

"You're a smart man, figure it out yourself!" you shouted at him. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Law shouted back.

The two of you grabbed each other's collars and started to hurl more insults at each other.

The children watched the quarrel between you and Law with amusement. They started to whisper amongst themselves.

"They're funny!"

"They remind me of my mom and dad. Now I miss them..."

"Wow, I've never seen (Y/n) this mad before, it's funny!"

You and the tattooed captain were butting heads until Monet made her way into the Biscuit Room.

"Time for your candy!" she called out. The kids dropped their plates and proceeded to run toward the green haired woman. 

Pulling away from your captain's collar, you started to clean up the plates and utensils littered on the floor. "There's your woman," you muttered while cleaning up.

"Hm?" Law said, "What did you say?"

"Hi, Monet! Did you want some spaghetti? I made some for dinner!" you called out while ignoring Law.

Monet made her way to you. "Oh, I would love some!" Then she looked at Law and smiled. "If you haven't eaten yet, would you like to join me for dinner Trafalgar?" 

Law 'tched' in response. In the corner of Monet's eye, she saw your face deepen into a scowl. The sight of you being mad made her smile

That fucking woman was pushing you buttons and she was enjoying it. The handle of the pot started to crack as your hand gripped as tight as ever in anger. However, you managed to shove down your emotions and flashed a fake smile towards her and Law. The doctor raised his eye in skepticism as he saw you set down the pot and prepare two plates of spaghetti.

"Oh, how nice would that be? Here you go! You two enjoy dinner!" you said with fake cheerfulness. Shoving the plates into their hands, you quickly scrambled to set the plates and pots into the rolling cart and sped out of the Biscuit Room. 

"Thank you (Y/n)! Your cooking is always delicious!" Monet thanked you.

The tattooed captain just stared at your back as you were leaving the room. He knew something was up with you. Sighing in exhaustion, he brushed your behaviour aside as he started to think about the mission he was currently in. 

Unbeknownst to Monet and Law, you were unbelievably angry and veins started to pop on your forehead as you made your way back into the kitchen. Heavy stomps echoed throughout the hallway as you angrily pushed the food trolley. With your hands tightly gripping onto the trolley bar, you took a deep breath and sighed. 

That was strike two. One more strike and you were going to beat both of their asses to the snowy grounds of Punk Hazard. 

------------- 

You heard that Law agreed to give Caesar's henchmen limbs. It was one of the conditions that Caesar implemented for you and the captain to stay at Punk Hazard, aside from exchanging the literal hearts of Law and Monet to prevent backstabbing.

So when you were walking across the halls of the laboratory and heard the deathly screams of grown men echo throughout, you weren't surprised. 

"Looks like the captain is performing surgery today." you giggled as you skipped along the hallway. Deciding that you wanted to see the disembodiment in action, you quickly followed the sounds of agony. But as you were nearing the door, the screaming suddenly halted. As you slowed down your pace, you quietly made your way to the door and heard light shuffling and Monet's voice, You leaned up against the door with your right ear to listen.

"Alright, I'm ready Trafalgar," Monet said. "Are you sure this won't hurt?"

More shuffling was heard until Law spoke up. "First time? Don't worry, I'll stick it in slowly."

Your entire body froze as your mouth dropped in horror. "What the hell are they doing in there?!" you hissed to yourself. 

You heard a light grunt and a sharp inhale. More shuffling.

"Oh my, that's kind of big now that I look at it," Monet commented. "It feels weird too."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it," You heard Law reply. "Now, hold still, I'm going to shove it in."

Oh that was it. That was strike three. And you know what they say. Three strikes and you’re out. And by out you meant that you were going to kill your captain and that green-haired witch.

Your mind short-circuited as you assumed that your captain and that damned woman were up to no good. With your mind and heartbeat going 100 miles per hour, you grabbed the handle and swung the door wide open, screaming; "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN THERE?!"

And as soon as you laid your eyes upon Law and Monet, your heart stopped and your feet were stuck in place.

There they were, with Law's back facing you and the green-haired woman lying on her back on the couch. The doctor's left tattooed hand was holding onto her right leg which was up in the air. Your captain's face was turned to you with his face widening in horror, and Monet tilted her head to the left to look at you. 

What set you off was when Monet glanced at you, her long green hair was dishevelled.

Steam started to blow through your ears as you glared hole into Law and Monet. Your entire body started to shake uncontrollably as your chest heaved up and down aggressively.

Realizing that he was caught in a position that already caused a great misunderstanding, Law quickly let go of the leg he was holding onto and scrambled to make your way towards you. What you failed to see was that Monet's left leg was now replaced with a giant talon.

"(Y/n)-ya, you can't just barge into here while-" he started but you cut him off.

"CAPTAIN TRAFALGAR LAW! WHAT IN NEPTUNES GREAT BEARD ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT BITCH?!" you bellowed. 

Unable to think straight, you stomped past your captain headed towards the large bird talon on the desk in front of the couch. As you picked it up with your right hand, you whipped your head to glare at the insufferable woman lying on the couch.

"You've got some nerve seducing my captain like that!" you shrieked as you swung the limb towards Monet. She promptly dodged your attack and screamed, running away from the couch and onto the other side of the room.

"(Y/n)! It's not what you think! He just-" she started to explain before you swung at her again.

"I don't want to fucking hear it!" you screeched as you chased the poor limping woman around the room.

"Shambles!" Law grunted. And as soon as he said it, you swung the talon once more towards Monet, only to knock down a bookshelf onto the floor.

You whipped your head to face the captain once more. Law shuddered as he saw your eyes glimmer with hate. It was screaming bloody murder, and he was on the receiving end of it.

"YOU! Oh, you've got some nerve! You men disgust me!" you screeched as you stomped towards the doctor. With your left foot planted in front, your right arm swung up, reading to assault the man with the bird limb.

"(Y/n)-ya wait! Whatever you're thinking, we didn't do it!" he yelped as he jumped to the side to avoid your attack. However, he didn't know that you were quick enough to see through his actions and the back of the talon hit him on the side of his head, which successfully smacked him to the ground.

Your left hand reached out to the pistol that was hoisted on your hip. You drew it out and pointed it to the man on the floor, "Falling for a woman like that? How despicable! I-!" you started to lecture, but your voice drowned out as you realized that your outburst of anger took all the energy out of you.

"I-" you started to speak but your voice failed you. As your hand fell back to your side, you started to wonder why you acted like that. Even if they had something between them, it wasn't your place to care, unless you were...

"...Jealous? Are you jealous (Y/n)-ya?" Law called out as you returned to your senses. The discomfort that once reflected in his eyes was replaced with amusement as his mouth raised in a smirk.

Your eyes widened at the revelation as your heart started to pound. A bright red flush appeared on your cheeks.

"There's no way," you muttered. The limb that once was on your hand dropped to the ground as you stumbled back in shock. Glancing at Law, who now stood up with his arms crossed, you shot a nasty glare as the smirk on his face widened even more. 

"Why would I be jealous?! I was just protecting your dignity!" you sputtered. The captain made a stride towards you as he chuckled.

"What a stupid reason. You expect me to believe that?" he teased. 

He was now looming in front of you as you backed up to a wall. Your head was bowed down in embarrassment as you refused to look into his steel grey eyes. 

"I wasn't jealous..." you lowly muttered.

"Somehow that's not believable," Law answered back. He dipped his head to your eye level so that he could make eye contact with you, but you whipped your head to the side, still refusing to meet his eyes.

Amused by your sudden 180-degree change in mood, your captain stood straight up, placed his hand on the back of your head, and kissed your forehead.

The once freezing temperature of the laboratory now skyrocketed into a burning hot sensation as Law made an out-of-character advance toward you. Whipping your head up to face Law, your face was now burning hot with more embarrassment.

"Captain! What was that for?" you yelped in surprise.

Law simply chuckled. "Sometimes, I wonder what goes on on that interesting head of yours. One minute you're beating me with a bird limb and then the next I find out it's because you're jealous."

You shoved away the man in front of you and pouted. "I am NOT jealous! I just had to straighten you up and remind you that we're on a mission here!"

"Oh please, if anything, you were the one who forgot that we had a mission (Y/n)-ya." he retorted. 

"Whatever, now help me clean up this mess," you sneered as you proceeded to pick up the fallen books that you knocked down from your rampage. The tattooed captain chuckled and proceeded to assist you in a comfortable silence for a while before he spoke up again.

"(Y/n)-ya?" he said as he hoisted up the fallen bookshelf.

"Yeah what is it cap," you said with disinterest as you continued to collect the fallen items. 

"You know you'll always have me right?" he announced.

Your heart picked up slightly at the confession. Then A smile graced your lips as you turned your head to face Law. "Shut up and put that bookshelf up, Cap," you finally said as you tried to dismiss your feelings. 

The captain sighed as he shook his head. A rumble of laughter started to escape his chest, and you followed suit. Amidst the chaos that happened in one of the laboratory rooms, you and Law couldn't help but share one of the many moments you had with one another, even though the two of you were far away from home.

----------

Bonus Scene:

In the Polar Tang, the Heart Pirates were nowhere to be seen. That was because all of them were inside the captain's quarters, staring at a small book at the captain's desk. The cover of the book read 'Journal'.

"So, should we open it?" Penguin asked, with his hand hovering over the notebook. 

"Yeah man, let's do it!" Shachi affirmed.

"Guys, what if the captain finds out?" Bepo chittered.

"You idiot, there's no way he'd find out if he's not here!" Ikkaku chided the Mink.

"Sorry..." Bepo muttered.

 Penguin picked up the book and slowly opened it. "Alright you guys, here we go..."

Everyone leaned in and peered over Penguin's shoulders as the notebook opened. As soon as the first page was opened, a bunch of folded envelopes fell out and scattered on the ground. The entire crew crouched down and picked them up.

"It's addressed to (Y/n)," Hakugan announced.

"This one too." Jean Bart said.

"This one as well!" Uni called out.

"Wait a minute, are these all love letters for (Y/n)? And he never gave them to her?" Shachi said bewilderedly.

"Guys, captain's journal is just filled with yearning for (Y/n)!" Penguin cackled as he skimmed through Law's journal.

The whole crew burst into laughter as they crowded around Penguin once more to read what the captain had to say about you.

----------

TAGLIST:

@hopelesslover06 @shakysif @eyes-ofhell @letmereadchristonabike @bi-narystars @valval08 @urbisexualfriend @emmaiscool22 @deathsmajestysworld @sp1ng @kitsunechan707 @orange-milky

[darlingdreadwrites]

Halloween (She's So Mean)

THIS IS A SECOND PART OF AN AU. IF THIS IS THE FIRST POST YOU SEE, I SUGGEST YOU CLICK ON THIS (“MAIN STORY”) TO READ THE FIRST PART OF THIS AU!!

pairing: Jeff the Killer x GN!Reader

summary: After arriving at Mr. Mann’s Manor of Frights, you decide to walk around.

contains: haunted house with jeff, scare actor jeff, making out and it’s slightly nsfw (under the red divider!!)

warnings: name calling (slut is used), he’s dressed as a murderous clown with blood on him and a fake knife

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

a.n: don’t be following or shamelessly flirt with scare-actors unless you know them personally and they’re ok with it PLEASE

“I want to just walk around,” you tell your friends. They nodded, walking deeper into the festival grounds.

Every few seconds, screams and laughter surround you – all thanks to the scare-actors scattered about. You feel a buzzing thrill under your skin, a mixture of excitement and nervousness propelling you further. You glance at your left, unaware of a man ready to leap out at you.

“Gotcha!”

You stumble back with a yelp, bumping into one of your friends. The man before you, dressed like a murderous clown, laughs maniacally. His sleek, black leather jumpsuit is zipped down just enough to expose a provocative amount of lean, scarred skin of his torso. Blood is splattered over his pale skin. His makeup enhances his almost-white skin, with dark red eyeshadow sweeping across his eyelids and extending under his eyes. The classic clown look is evident in the sharp diamond shapes that stretch from above his eyebrows to his cheeks. A black upside-down cross is drawn on his forehead, while black face-paint is made to look like his mouth is stretched out. Streaks of dried blood trail from his red lips down to his chin, completing the scary look.

You barely have time to respond before he leans in with a devilish grin – your heart hammers in your chest.  You think he’s about to say something else but he only winks at you. He turns quickly to find his next victim, leaving you bewildered and breathless.

You and your friends continue to explore the festival, but your thoughts are stuck on that encounter. You wander through the festival, trying to shake off the chill that his presence left on you. But it doesn’t matter how many fun booths you pass or how many jokes your friends make, he has carved himself into your brain. You want to believe it was only because he effectively scared you.

You start to lose yourself in the atmosphere, the tension in your shoulders easing. The interaction seems to be behind you and your group has moved on to playing games. You’re standing near a brightly lit game stall, watching as your friend fails to properly throw a ball at a bottle. You laugh as another friend steps up to help – only to fail just as terribly.

“Miss me?” Someone whispers, their breath hot on your ear.

You spin toward him, coming face to face with the scare-actor from earlier. He’s so close that you can smell the leather of his suit and a faint scent of nicotine. He laughs sharply, causing you to shrink back against a wall behind you. When he pulls back his arm way too swiftly, you almost scream.

“You’re so hot!” You blurt out without thinking, closing your eyes tightly. Oh, fuck. You’re supposed to be scared. His job is to scare you, and here you were, declaring how hot you think he is.

Your eyes go wide in horror, and you seem to have genuinely caught him off guard for a moment. His taunting grin falters, and his eyes are just as wide as yours. Your face feels like hot coal when he bursts out into loud laughter. He doubles over, one of his hands pressed against his stomach. Your friends join in on his laughter, and you would have kicked him if your embarrassment hadn’t caused you to freeze.

“Oh, god, you –“ he gasps for air between laughs. “What kinda reaction – Jesus!”

“That wasn’t – I didn’t mean to – “You stammer out. You’re absofuckinglutely mortified.

“Nah, nah, you can’t take that back,” he teases as he calms down. Before you can answer, he grabs your wrist and it’s surprisingly gentle. “Since you think I’m so hot, I’m takin’ you with me. That okay?”

“Okay – “

You barely have time to look back at your friends who are now cheering for you. You’d get them back for this for sure. He’s dragging you through the maze of people, and you have to fight to keep up. He’s leading you toward the mansion, undoubtedly heading to one of the haunted experiences. Curious festivalgoers in lines watch as he skips to the entrance of one.

“C’mon, gorgeous,” he drawls, nodding at the worker who steps to the side to let you two in. he looks over his shoulder to flash you a smirk, but he’s also studying your reaction. “Unless you’re too scared.”

You’re too stunned and excited to resist, following silently behind him. A part of you really seems to like how he’s treating you. It was a strange mix of actions – like he was controlling you, but also giving you a chance to refuse. Not that you would refuse.

The inside of the attraction is dark and disorienting. The lights flicker above and cast eerie shows in the already creepy hallway. Every time an animatronic or an actor jumped out, you’d walk a little closer to Jeff. At one point, he got so tired of you practically squishing yourself against his arm that he just wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He pressed the palm of his hand against the side of your head, pulling you closer to him.

“What’s the matter?” He whispers, his lips lightly grazing your ear, and the warmth of his breath causes your brain to short-circuit. “Scared?”

Jeff is relentless, making jokes and flirting to break the tension. You attempt to match his energy, even if it is a bit shaky. A flurry of butterflies weighs heavily on your chest. He leads you down somewhere clearly off of the main path. He pulls back a curtain, revealing a door with a sign that reads “Employees Only.” He opens it with no issue before turning around. He stands in front of the dark corridor, the shadows framing his silhouette. He holds your wrist loosely, giving you another hint that you can stop this at any time.

“Wanna have some fun?” he asks, tilting his head. His tone then takes on a mocking lilt. “Promise I won’t bite… too hard.”

You hesitate for just a millisecond before stepping closer. That’s all the encouragement he needs, his grip on your wrist tightening. Who were you to say no?

“That’s my stupid little slut,” he purrs, walking backwards into the darkly lit hallway and pulling you with him. He looks at you and back to the door – another exit, he seems to be telling you. But you don’t move.

He closes it and the sounds behind it immediately sound muffled and distant. He stares down at you with a charged mischief that almost has your knees buckling. He holds up his prop knife, the flat side of the plastic blade lightly tapping against your cheek. He leans in, his breath hitting your face.

“Last chance to run, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low. He’s surprisingly considerate as his eyes search yours for any hint of uncertainty.

You’re too caught up in the moment to respond as your hands tangle into Jeff’s hair to pull him into an open-mouthed kiss. He doesn’t waste a second, immediately closing the distance. You can taste the copper that lingers in his mouth – fake blood, probably – but it only adds to the intoxicating thrill of the moment.

Your back hits the cold wall, the sharp pain tingling just enough to make you crave his closeness even more. He nips at your lower lip and grips your waist tightly. As his tongue delves into your mouth, one of his knees slips between your legs. He rolls his knee lightly against your clothed groin, the fabric of your jeans stimulating you just right. You moan into his mouth, and he drinks it up greedily, his slippery muscle sliding against yours.

Your hand presses flat against his stomach, the warmth mixing with the heat of your palm. Neither of you seemed to remember – or care – about the blood on his torso. It was dried by now, so, as you trailed your hand up his chest, the substance flaked off onto your hand.

You don’t know how long you had been gone, but all you knew was that you had lots of fun. You just didn’t think what you had done was obvious. That was until your friends squealed when you came back, pointing at and teasing you about the makeup staining the area around your mouth.

[empressdede]

Reconnecting Ringside

Sade is interning at WWE, hoping to gain some insight experience and runs in to Jon, an old friend. What are the chances of these two reconnecting?

Word count: 3.5K

Pairing: Jonathan x OC (Sade)

No warnings, Happy Valentine’s day ❤️••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••Jonathan Fatu adjusted his snapback as he strolled through the halls of the WWE Performance Center, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. Fresh off a promo rehearsal, he was already thinking about heading back to his hotel—until a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Jonathan Fatu? Is that really you?”

He turned, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Sade?”

There she stood—Sade, his old friend from back home. The years had changed her, but the warm smile and bright eyes were unmistakable. She held a media badge around her neck, a notepad in hand.

“Wow,” Jonathan chuckled, a grin spreading across his face. “Long time no see! What brings you here?”

Sade’s smile widened. “I just started an internship with WWE’s journalism team. Gonna be doing interviews, covering events, all that.”

“No way!” He beamed proudly. “Look at you, making moves. This business is wild, but you’re gonna kill it. Trust me.”

Sade laughed. “I hope so! And I’m pretty sure an interview with a certain Uso has to happen soon.”

Jonathan smirked, his playful side kicking in. “Only if you can handle the heat, ’cause when I’m on the mic, it’s straight fire!”

“Bring it on,” she teased. “Just don’t make me roast you on camera.”

Jonathan laughed loudly, shaking his head. “You ain’t changed a bit.”

Before they could say more, a voice called from down the hall—production needed Jonathan on set. He glanced back at Sade. “Yo, we gotta catch up after this. Dinner tonight?”

“Deal,” she replied.

As he walked away, Jonathan couldn’t help but smile. The WWE ring had brought him countless battles—but this? This felt like the start of something special.

-

Later that evening, Jonathan and Sade found themselves at a cozy restaurant not far from the arena. The air buzzed with the soft hum of conversations, but their table felt like its own world.

“So, WWE journalism, huh?” Jonathan leaned back, his chain catching the low light. “How’d you end up here?”

Sade smiled, setting her drink down. “Well, you know I always loved storytelling. After college, I did some freelance sports writing. Then, I saw WWE was offering an internship for media coverage. It felt like fate. And now here I am, about to cover superstars—never thought I’d run into one I actually know.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Man, life’s wild like that. Feels like yesterday we were back home, clowning around.”

Sade’s eyes sparkled. “Remember when you used to practice your promos in front of my camera for my school projects?”

Jonathan laughed loudly. “You mean those cringy ones with the bad lighting? Yeah, I remember. Guess that was my first taste of ‘The Mic.’”

Sade grinned. “I knew you had star power even then.”

Jonathan’s expression softened. “And now you’re here, chasing your own dream. That’s dope.”

Their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, it was just two old friends, worlds apart from where they started, but somehow right back in step.

Then Sade’s phone buzzed with a notification—Interview assignments posted. She opened it and paused, eyes widening.

“Well, looks like fate’s still working overtime,” she said, turning the screen to him.

The assignment read: “Exclusive Sit-Down Interview with Jimmy Uso – Tomorrow.”

Jonathan smirked. “Guess you’re getting that interview sooner than you thought.”

Sade raised an eyebrow, her playful competitive streak kicking in. “Hope you’re ready, Fatu. I don’t go easy on my subjects.”

Jonathan grinned, his tone playful but firm. “And I don’t pull punches. Better bring your A-game.”

Their eyes locked—a spark of excitement, challenge, and something unspoken lingering between them.

“Game on,” Sade replied with a smirk.

The following morning, backstage at a live event, the atmosphere was a mix of buzzing anticipation and focused intensity. Jonathan Fatu—better known in the ring as Jimmy Uso—sat in his dressing room, meticulously going over last-minute details. The mirror in front of him reflected a man who had weathered countless storms in the squared circle, each scar and smile telling a story of his journey.

A gentle knock at the door broke his concentration. Jonathan looked up to see Sade stepping in, notebook in hand and a confident gleam in her eye. The room, usually reserved for quiet pre-match rituals, seemed to brighten with her presence.

“Good morning, Jimmy,” she began warmly. “Ready for our sit-down?”

Jonathan grinned. “Always. It’s not every day I get to be interviewed by an old friend.”

They settled into a pair of mismatched chairs by a small table cluttered with water bottles, a coffee mug, and memorabilia from past events. Sade switched on her recorder and leaned forward. “Let’s start at the beginning. What was it like when you first realized this wasn’t just a game, but your life?”

Jonathan’s eyes softened with memory. “I remember the first time I stepped into the ring—the roaring crowd, the smell of sweat and determination. It wasn’t about winning or losing back then. It was about proving to myself that I belonged in a world where every moment mattered.”

Sade scribbled a note, then asked, “And what about the pressure of living up to a family legacy? Your brother, the rest of your clan—it all adds a layer of expectation.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Family is both the weight on my shoulders and the wind beneath my wings. Every match, every promo, I’m not just fighting for myself but for everyone who’s ever believed in me. It’s a relentless drive.”

The conversation flowed naturally, as if the years apart had melted away. Sade probed further, “There must have been moments of doubt along the way. Can you share one that changed you?”

Jonathan’s gaze drifted to a framed photo on the wall—a candid shot of him and his cousins backstage, laughing after a tough day. “There was a time when I wasn’t sure I’d ever overcome the obstacles. A major injury had me sidelined longer than I’d hoped, and the fear of losing my edge was overwhelming. But in that quiet darkness, I learned that resilience isn’t just about physical strength—it’s about heart, determination, and the unwavering support of those who stand by you.”

Sade’s voice softened. “That vulnerability… it makes your triumphs all the more inspiring.”

“Exactly,” Jonathan replied, a wry smile playing on his lips. “The ring isn’t just about the spectacle you see on TV. It’s about the sweat, the scars, and the moments when you push past pain to become something more.”

A comfortable silence fell over the room as they both reflected on the weight of his journey. Finally, Sade added, “I think that’s what the fans need to hear. Behind every high-flying move and every electrifying promo, there’s a human story. A story of struggle, family, and the relentless pursuit of a dream.”

Jonathan nodded appreciatively. “And thanks to you, Sade, that story is going to be told with honesty and heart.”

The recorder clicked off as Sade closed her notebook. They sat for a moment, two friends connected by time and a shared passion for storytelling—one through the physical poetry of wrestling, the other through the power of the written word.

Stepping out into the corridor, the buzz of the arena waiting just beyond, Jonathan clapped Sade on the shoulder. “I’m looking forward to the next chapter. And hey—if you need any behind-the-scenes action, you know where to find me.”

With a final smile and a promise to reconnect after the show, Sade walked off, her mind brimming with the raw, authentic narrative of a superstar whose legacy was as much about heart as it was about hustle. And for Jonathan, the day had reaffirmed that every story—both in and out of the ring—deserves to be told.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••Weeks passed, and Sade and Jonathan settled into an easy rhythm. Between shows, interviews, and the chaos of WWE life, they always found time for each other—grabbing dinner after tapings, cracking jokes between promos, and sharing late-night conversations that blurred the line between the past and present.

Their friendship felt natural, like they had never lost time. But for Jonathan, something unexpected had started to creep in—attraction. He found himself looking forward to her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she asked the right question, or how she stood her ground during heated debates about wrestling storylines.

One evening, they sat together in catering, plates filled with the usual post-show fare. The energy of the arena hummed faintly through the walls. Sade, scrolling through her notes for her next assignment, glanced up to catch Jonathan watching her.

She smirked. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

Jonathan shook his head, leaning back with a grin. “Nah, just—never thought I’d see you in this world. But you’re killin’ it.”

Sade chuckled, brushing off the compliment. “You always did hype me up.”

Jonathan’s eyes glinted with curiosity, and he tilted his head playfully. “So, tell me… you leave a boyfriend behind to pursue this dream?”

Sade paused mid-sip of her water, then burst out laughing. “Boyfriend? Nah, haven’t had one in a while. Been single for two years now.”

Jonathan’s eyebrows lifted slightly, though he kept his cool. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

She raised an eyebrow, her playful side kicking in. “Why you askin’, Fatu?”

Jonathan shrugged casually, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “Just curious.”

Sade smirked. “You’re terrible at being subtle, you know that?”

Jonathan laughed, rubbing his chin. “Maybe. But I’m good at being real.”

A charged silence settled between them, one that felt… different. Sade felt the weight of his gaze, but before she could unpack it, a crew member called her name from across the room.

She stood, flashing him a quick grin. “Well, just curious, I gotta get back to work. See you later, Fatu.”

Jonathan watched her walk away, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “See you later.”

But as she disappeared down the hall, one thought stuck in his mind: This ain’t just friendship anymore.

-

The more time Jonathan spent with Sade, the more his feelings tangled. Friendship had always been easy with her—jokes, conversations, the comfort of someone who just got him. But now? He found himself noticing everything—the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, how she challenged him in conversations, how her passion for storytelling mirrored his passion for the ring.

But the more he felt it, the more he panicked.

Jonathan wasn’t a stranger to love—he’d been through enough to know how messy it could get. And with Sade? She was his friend. Hell, his best friend. If he crossed that line and it went south, he could lose something he hadn’t even realized he needed so badly.

So, he buried it. Teased her like always. Kept his playful charm front and center.

But his heart kept slipping through the cracks.

One Night After SmackDown

The locker room buzz had died down, and Jonathan was cooling off from his match, towel draped around his neck when his phone buzzed.

Sade: “Still here? Grab a late bite with me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Bet. Meet you outside.”

They ended up at a small diner—not glamorous, but the kind of place that felt real. Sade was deep into a story about a backstage interview gone hilariously wrong, and Jonathan, fork paused halfway to his mouth, just… watched her.

“You good?” she teased, catching his stare.

He blinked, covering with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Just… you really love this, don’t you?”

Sade’s expression softened. “I do. I love getting to know people, hearing their stories. Wrestling isn’t just about fights—it’s about heart, passion, legacy. And you…” She nudged him playfully. “You live that every night.”

Jonathan felt a warmth he couldn’t shake. “Yeah, well… guess I’m lucky I got someone who sees the real side of all this.”

Their eyes locked—something unspoken humming between them for a beat too long.

Later That Week – At the WWE Performance Center

Jonathan decided he needed to do something about these feelings—anything—before they started eating him alive.

So, he did what he knew best: he hit the ring. Training always cleared his head. Except, this time, it didn’t.

Every corner of the ring reminded him of Sade—because she was everywhere now. In his matches, his promos, his downtime. And it wasn’t annoying. It was terrifying how right it felt.

Finally, he stopped, breathing hard, hands on his knees. “Man… what the hell’s wrong with me?” he muttered.

A voice from behind startled him. “You good, Uce?”

Jonathan turned to see Joshua, arms crossed, watching him with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Jonathan lied, wiping his face. “Just workin’ some stuff out.”

Josh wasn’t buying it. “Man, you wrestlin’ ghosts or somethin’? What’s really on your mind?”

Jonathan hesitated, then sighed heavily. “It’s… Sade.”

Josh’s eyebrows shot up, a smirk forming. “Ohhh. Sade. Say less.”

Jonathan groaned, “Man, don’t start—”

Josh cut him off, serious now. “You feelin’ her?”

Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I mean… I didn’t plan on it. But it’s like—she’s my friend, but she���s more than that, too. And I don’t wanna mess it up.”

Joshua clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Bro, when you know, you know. But if you’re already over here sweatin’ and stressin’ like this? It’s ‘cause you care.”

Jonathan looked at his brother, the truth hitting him square in the chest. “Yeah… I do.”

–

Lying on his bed, phone in hand, Jonathan’s thumb hovered over Sade’s contact.

He typed: “You up?”

Then deleted it.

Tried again: “Hey, you wanna talk?”

Deleted that, too.

Frustrated, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Get it together, Fatu.”

But deep down, he knew—this wasn’t something he could fight like an opponent in the ring.

This was something he had to face.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••Valentine’s Day was a week away, and Jonathan Fatu had one thing on his mind—Sade.

The decision to finally tell her how he felt was clear, but how he’d do it? That was where he was stuck. He wanted it to be perfect—something meaningful, something that showed her just how much she meant to him.

So, between training, matches, and travel, he found himself scrolling through ideas—dinners, flowers, maybe something personal like a custom WWE jacket with her name on it. But every option felt too small for how big his feelings had become.

The planning was driving him crazy—and, without realizing it, making him distant.

Sade Notices the Change. At first, Sade didn’t think much of it. Jonathan was busy—WWE life was hectic, and they both knew that. But as days passed, she felt it—text replies were shorter, their usual jokes felt half-hearted, and he wasn’t hitting her up to hang out like he usually did.

After their last interview together, he barely stuck around—just a quick “Good job” and he was gone.

Sade couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Talking to Joshua

Sade decided to get to the bottom of it, and who better to ask than Jonathan’s twin, Joshua?

She found him backstage after SmackDown, cooling down from his segment.

“Hey, Jey,” she greeted, her voice light but uncertain.

Joshua smiled, towel draped over his neck. “What’s good, Sade?”

She hesitated briefly, then got straight to it. “Can I ask you something? It’s about Jonathan.”

Joshua’s eyebrows lifted knowingly. “Oh?”

Sade shifted her weight, arms crossing. “He’s been… different lately. Distant. Did I… do something? Is he mad at me?”

Josh chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, you didn’t do anything.”

Sade narrowed her eyes. “Then what’s going on? We were tight, and now it’s like I barely know what’s on his mind.”

Joshua debated for a second—he knew what his brother was up to, but it wasn’t his place to spoil it.

Instead, he grinned slyly. “Lemme just say this—My brother’s head is in the game… but his heart? Yeah, that’s somewhere else right now.”

Sade frowned in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Joshua gave a small shrug but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’ll see soon enough. Trust me.”

Sade’s confusion only deepened. “You Fatu boys and your cryptic answers…”

Josh laughed, “What can I say? We love a good storyline.”

-

Meanwhile, Jonathan was pulling every string he could to make this Valentine’s Day unforgettable. He called in a favor with WWE production for something special during that night’s show—a personal video package with highlights of their friendship, moments from their interviews, and even a few candid clips.

His heart pounded at the thought of it. This wasn’t just a gesture—this was him laying it all on the line.

But he hadn’t spoken to her much because if he did… he’d slip. He knew it.

Sade, still confused and slightly frustrated, wondered if Jonathan was pulling away from her for another reason entirely.

But what she didn’t know was that Jonathan wasn’t pulling away—

He was getting ready to step closer than ever before.

Valentine’s Day -

Valentine’s Day arrived, and the energy backstage was electric. Red and pink decorations lined the catering area—thanks to some overzealous staffers—and the buzz of the night’s matches filled the air.

Jonathan, though? His heart was racing for a different reason. Tonight was the night. His plan was set—the video package would air after his segment. But before that… he needed to ask her. Directly.

Sade was reviewing her notes for a post-match interview when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Hey.”

She turned, and there he was—Jonathan, looking slightly… nervous? She raised an eyebrow. “Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. MIA. You finally decided to show up.”

Jonathan rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, about that… I’ve been, uh, working on something.”

Sade folded her arms, smirking. “Something so important you had to ghost me?”

Jonathan chuckled softly, but then his tone shifted—serious, genuine. “Nah… something for you.”

Sade’s expression softened. “For me?”

Jonathan took a small breath—this was it. “Yeah… So, listen. I know I’ve been distant, but it’s ‘cause I’ve been trying to figure out how to do this right.”

He stepped closer, his voice steady but warm. “So, I’m just gonna say it plain—Sade… will you be my Valentine?”

Sade blinked, her lips parting in surprise. Of all the things she expected—that wasn’t one of them.

Then, a slow, radiant smile spread across her face. “You mean all this time you were stressing about this?”

Jonathan chuckled nervously. “Yeah… pretty much.”

Sade shook her head with a laugh. “You really are something else, Fatu.” She paused, eyes softening. “But… yeah. I’d love to be your Valentine.”

Jonathan’s grin could’ve lit up the entire arena. “Good. ‘Cause I wasn’t takin’ no for an answer.”

Later that night, as the crowd roared and the lights dimmed for a transition segment, the arena screens flickered to life—playing a special video package.

Footage of Jonathan and Sade appeared—interviews, shared laughs, behind-the-scenes clips… their story. The final frame read:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sade. — Jonathan”

Sade, watching from the interview set, felt her chest tighten—warmth flooding through her.

And as the camera panned back to Jonathan, standing in the ring with a mic, he smiled toward her direction.

“Yo, Sade,” his voice boomed, “Just wanted everyone to know—you’ve already made this the best Valentine’s Day.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Sade couldn’t fight the grin on her face.

The cheers from the crowd still echoed faintly through the halls as Sade and Jonathan stood together backstage, the energy of his Valentine’s Day surprise still buzzing between them.

Sade pulled back slightly from their hug, her eyes searching his. “That… was unreal, Jon. I don’t even know what to say.”

Jonathan’s gaze softened, his hands lingering at her waist. “Don’t gotta say anything. Just… tell me how you feel.”

Sade’s heart pounded. She felt the weight of the moment—the years of friendship, the teasing, the laughter, and now… this.

So, she stopped thinking.

And closed the distance.

Their lips met—soft, warm, and every bit as perfect as she’d imagined. The world around them blurred into nothing, the noise fading until it was just them.

When they pulled back, Sade’s breath was shaky, but her smile was radiant. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jonathan’s lips curled into a grin, his forehead resting against hers. “You have no idea how long I’ve been hoping you would.”

The unspoken was spoken, and everything felt… right.

And as they stood there, lost in each other, one thing was certain—this wasn’t the end.

It was just the beginning.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[gilbirda]

I'm just a simple guard, man

Part 6 of my Danny is an Arkham Security Guard AU (og tumblr post)

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

There was silence and tension as they watched Batman go through the motions, tying up the unmoving but awake Joker and moving him to somewhere closer to the entrance. Joker was surprisingly responsive and lucid, just mellowed and obedient. Somehow it made it better — if he was a vegetable Jason knew Batman wouldn’t let that go until Danny undid what he had done.

Danny.

The Ghost King.

Jason didn’t know exactly what that meant. Heck, until today he didn’t know that ghosts were kind of a thing. Mythical creatures, he could buy. Apparitions, imprints of conscience that were unavenged — that he could buy too. But a Ghost King implied an organized society with status and a legal organization. A power structure.

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that.”

He turned towards the doctor well aware his face showed every emotion.

“The fuck?”

“Did that really happen?” Duke was trying to keep calm, but his eyes were wide open and his hands slightly trembling.

“Yeah?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“But—”

“How the heck—”

“ — how did he do that —”

“ — did he set him on fire!”

“ — and is he even human?”

“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”

“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.

“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”

“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”

“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that place?

Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”

Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”

Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”

“What?”

“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”

“What for?”

She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”

“He can rot for all I care.”

The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.

“You don’t know that place like I do.”

Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”

Duke glanced at Alfred, unsure what to make of that statement. He quietly stood up, getting ready to intervene in case Jason decided to get violent; but Alfred held him back with a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“Again, he deserves it.”

Tired of craning her neck to look up at him, Jazz stepped back. “He deserves the judgment of the people he’d hurt in the past — something my brother and I can promise you will happen.” Given what they saw in the camera feeds, nobody doubted the siblings could ensure it. “But I’m not going to tolerate that my patient spends his last years alive being unnecessarily abused.”

“I told you—”

“What do you think,” she interrupted Jason, her gaze cold and her body tense, “will happen if someone dies full of rage? If in their last moments they wish they could enact vengeance on those that harmed them?” She narrowed her eyes, knowing her words were hitting something in him. “What do you think will happen to the Joker’s soul if he’s abused and tortured at Arkham, and probably killed, after he crosses the Veil?”

“I—”

“A huge pain in the ass, it’s what will happen.”

The tense silence could be cut with a knife. Duke couldn’t understand how Jazz not only managed to stare down the six foot something tank that Jason was, but she also commanded the attention and respect. He was a newcomer to the place and he had done more than enough crazy stuff during his time in a gang; but he still struggled with openly challenging Jason and Cass. And Tim, but that was when the vigilante fell into his weird mumbling-in-the-dark episodes.

“I’m taking you there.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the garage section of the cave. Jazz yanked her arm free and stopped to cross her arms.

“I can walk on my own.”

Jason bristled, opened his mouth to continue their fight, but apparently that was when Alfred had enough.

“If you want to get there in time,” his voice was neutral, controlled, and his face wore his signature arched eyebrow, “I'd recommend leaving right now.”

His tone was final.

Jazz and Jason looked at each other, frozen under the certified Alfred glare. They nodded and walked quickly towards where Jason’s signature red bike was parked.

***

Arkham Asylum was a mess when the duo arrived — police cars flooded the entrance, and the Batmobile stood out like a sore thumb in the midst of all the red and blue lights flashing around.

Jazz cursed under her breath. She would have preferred to not turn the situation into a circus.

They managed to walk through the sea of cops and civilians looking in the compound from the metal gates. Funny enough, the few guards blocking the way didn’t move to stop them once both glared at them at the same time.

Jazz made a beeline at the Director chatting animatedly with Batman. Black Bat was standing a bit back with Red Robin, probably discussing what just happened with Danny, but the Arkham doctor didn’t care about them.

“I demand I see my patient.” Jazz didn’t beat around the bush.

The Director blinked and slowly looked away from Batman, as if he couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to interrupt this moment. “Miss Fenton—”

“Doctor.” She corrected him.

The man cleared his throat, throwing a nervous glance at the silent Dark Knight.

“Doctor Fenton,” the word was spit like it was a curse, “your shift doesn’t start until eight.”

“But the Joker is my patient and I know he’s in there.” She gestured at the looming Asylum with her hand. “After such a traumatic event I need to see him.”

Someone coughed a laugh behind the Director. At least the man had the decency of hiding a smile.

“The Joker is not going anywhere, Miss— Doctor.” He added when she glared at him. “You can schedule a session tomorrow. That is, if your patient is up for conversation.” With that, the man deemed their conversation over and turned back to Batman. “Once again, thank you so much, Batman. I’m not going to ask how you did it this time, but we will certainly appreciate the results.”

Jason was as happy as everyone else that Joker wouldn’t be a problem anymore, but the way this bastard was treating Jasmine was outright criminal. He squared up for a fight and tried to step forward, but a cold hand on his forearm stopped him. Jazz moved her eyebrows up and her eyes went over his body before she looked back towards the police. Several new vehicles joined the party — all the Gotham news channels were here to record the event.

And he wasn’t wearing his suit. Right.

He nodded and remained where he was, but made a gesture towards where the Director was waxing poetry about how good Batman was for their city and how much the city owed him.

Do you want me to beat him up for you? He wanted to ask.

Jazz chuckled, hiding her smile behind her hand. She shook her head and patted his arm a few times.

“Thanks,” she whispered, “but not today.”

He didn’t know how serious she was. This was the same person who pulled a gun at Red Hood and five seconds later forced him into a therapy session. The same lunatic that was excited about having the whole bat flock in her apartment so she could question them.

For the first time since the alarm sounded about Joker’s escape, Jason let himself relax a little bit. Jazz was crazy enough to take on Arkham’s finest and leave victorious.

“Director Kallwick,” her voice was pure steel, “I’m afraid it’s imperative I see my patient after such a traumatic—”

“I think there’s something you are not understanding, Miss Fenton.”

“And what is it?” She crossed her arms.

The Director raised an eyebrow, now fully facing her. It didn’t escape Jason how the man squared his shoulders to look bigger and overpower Jazz. He had seen that behavior way too many times, in many different situations — and he didn’t like it when men like the Director used it against people that couldn't fight back, specially women.

He glanced at Bruce, trying to gauge how much the old man would flip if he intervened anyway. He trusted Jazz, but he really didn’t like the Director right now.

“I’m positive that after today’s… development,” he smiled, “things at Arkham will definitely change. For the best, of course.” He raised an eyebrow. “Starting with streamlining our staff and making sure we count on experienced doctors to treat the patients that really need it.”

Was he implying…?

Jazz hummed, regarding the man with as much contempt as she allowed herself to show. “I know you don’t like me, Mr. Kallwick. You never did. I know you hired me because you needed cannon fodder to sacrifice and keep the Joker entertained.” She smiled. “I’m young, but I’m not stupid. And I know men like you — weak, scared, and cowardly.”

“Hey there young—”

“I know you’d rather let your staff die than develop better and healthier outlets for patient’s destructive tendencies.” She lifted a hand and walked closer, poking the man’s chest. “I know that you look the other way when guards and doctors mentally and physically abuse inmates because you actually think they deserve it.” She poked him again.

“I don’t—” He went to grab her hand.

She moved away from him so quickly and so smoothly that it looked like a dance step.

She smiled. It wasn’t nice. “And I know all about what you’ve been doing with the funds and donations.”

Even in the middle of the noise from the crowd at the gates, you could hear the man loudly swallow.

“I know about the embezzling and the bribes and the interesting filing mistakes and convenient registration mishaps, Mr. Kallwick.” Her eyes slowly turned greener. It was subtle, but you could see that her usual teal color suddenly looked greener than blue. A trick of the lights, you could think, but the bats knew better. “I know you don’t care how or why the Joker is unresponsive, but I do; and if you want me to stay in my lane I highly recommend you stay in yours.”

The man processed her words, the thoughts clear in his eyes. He was probably thinking how she could have found out, or who told her, or how was he going to silence her better.

Jason saw the switch to the later thought as clear as day.

Bruce saw it too.

Before the man said or did anything else, the tall and quiet shadow of Batman placed himself behind Jazz, one hand on her shoulder as an obvious sign of his support. The other two bats placed themselves on the sides of the Arkham doctor, arms crossed, looking down at the man who was realizing too late the mistake he made.

***

“Are you still mad?”

“Hm.”

“You sound like the old man.”

Jazz glared at him, violently stabbing her ice cream cup and breaking her plastic spoon.

“You may need to deal with those anger issues. Have you thought about going to therapy?” He said with a bright smile.

She stood up, not caring about attracting attention. Who was going to pay attention to them, Jason didn’t know. It was way early in the morning — or late at night, it depends on how you see it — and Jazz had demanded they go to the closest ice cream place that was open.

Luckily he knew a place, because of course only in Gotham someone would be crazy enough to have an ice cream shop open at this hour.

“Some vigilantes, and some rogues, really like ice cream. It is an untapped market.” The man running the place said when asked, shrugging like it was obvious.

Jazz sat back down, now with a new spoon, and continued eating her sweet monstrosity of layered chocolate and dulce de leche.

“If you are this mad I highly recommend you take it with Bruce. I’m sure he will be very understanding and accept your feedback.”

She kicked him in the shins, rolling her eyes at his sarcasm.

“Whatever you say, mister Daddy Issues.”

It was his turn to kick her, but she was expecting the movement and moved away before he made contact. She smirked, taking another bite of her ice cream with a smug smile on her face.

God, he hated older siblings and their knowing smiles.

He prepared to kick her again..

“Don’t even try,” a new voice said, the person taking the empty chair on their little table. “Jazz is like a ninja when she really wants to.”

Jason wanted to differ and explain he had trained with literal ninjas, but the speed at which she whipped a gun on him not that long ago came to his mind. Was it a liminal thing? Or a Jasmine thing? Maybe a Fenton thing?

“Hey.”

“Hey back at you.” Danny sighed, taking Jazz’s ice cream cup and biting directly from the top layer. “That bad, huh?”

Jason bit his simple chocolate cone, watching the siblings talk.

“She’s mad because B scary dog privileged his way into making the Arkham Director submit and it undermined Jazz’s authority. She did a neat speech and everything.” He shook his head. “All wasted.”

She huffed and stole her ice cream back. “I didn’t need his support.”

“I know you don’t.” Danny glanced at Jason. “But it’s better if you have Batman’s backup, yes?”

Jazz ignored him.

Jason took the chance to look at Danny, trying to find anything that was different about the young man. He still had the scene back with Joker burned in his mind.

King of the Ghosts.

He would have never guessed, given the scrawny and sleep deprived raccoon of a man sitting next to him. He was still wearing the same shirt and under the fluorescent lights of the ice cream shop, it was easier to see the scars on his arms and hands — and the ones peeking from under his collar.

“Spit it out.”

“Huh?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “You have questions. Ask.”

“I don’t—” He tried to deny it, but thought better about it. Jason bit his ice cream and cleared his throat. “I want to ask about —”

“Of course you want to ask about what happened.”

A soft thump! came from under the table, and given Danny’s glare at Jazz then she probably kicked him for the sass.

“What do you want to know?”

“Why are you being so forthcoming?”

“I’m feeling charitable today.” Another kick from under the table. “Ok, ok! No need for violence.” He sighed. “Jazz’s right. This is not my territory. If we want to stay, we have to play nice with you guys.”

The way he said it, and the way he made a face when he said it, told Jason that Danny was really struggling with trusting the bats with the information. Trust issues he could understand — one wasn’t in their line of work without being betrayed or hurt enough to warrant these issues.

No. It was something deeper.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

There were many questions burning in his mind and he didn’t know how long they had. “Why… Gotham? Why Arkham? Why a guard?”

“You just wasted your time man. You already know the answer for that.” He pointed at his sister, who nodded in agreement. “I followed her.”

“And I came here because I was interested in the rogues.” She added, licking her spoon clean.

Jason shook his head. “I meant — why is the King of the Ghosts… just… here?” He lowered his voice, glancing at the ice cream man. The man was half asleep on the counter and clearly not listening. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Danny responded with a dry laugh. “I have no interest in being the king of anything.”

“But?”

He looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable.

Jason glanced at Jazz, but she was glaring at the table.

“What happened?” He poked the siblings, trying to be soft. It was obviously a touchy subject, and whatever happened was painful enough that they’ve been avoiding any mention of their past before Gotham like the plague.

“It was… It happened a few years ago. I defeated the previous Ghost King, but nothing happened for a while. I thought… I thought things had calmed down since ghosts stopped attacking my town so often. And then, after I graduated highschool, the Observants started harassing me about taking the throne.”

“Did they hurt you?” Jason didn’t know what these “Observants” were, but he could guess from context.

Danny shook his head, stealing Jazz’s ice cream again. “They were fucking annoying, but they couldn’t touch me. As the Prince, I was technically their superior and untouchable.” He bit the cold treat and chewed. Somehow Jason wasn’t surprised Danny never got a brain freeze. “It was a few more years of avoiding them and trying to keep peace in town, as well as trying to get to know the Infinite Realms.” He chuckled again. “I even considered, for a moment, that being King wasn’t even that bad.

“It was a pretty normal day when it happened. I went to the mall with my friends. Sam, she — She had a fight with her parents and went there to cool down and cheer her up. The ghosts came first,” he pushed the ice cream back to his sister, and avoided Jason’s eyes, “but nothing was out of the ordinary. We fought. I defeated them. More and more kept coming, faster than I — than we could contain them.”

“I was away at college, but I later learned that it was a massive all out attack on just Danny.” Jazz placed a hand on Danny’s. “It was a coup attempt.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know that so many people were against me being King, and all that time they were planning the attack, and if I just paid a little more attention… If I wasn’t so—”

Another kick under the table. Danny cleared his throat and tried again.

“The GIW came as well. Things went from bad to worse, and by the end of the day it was an all out war between us, the ghosts doing a coup and the GIW. With our parents at the head of the attack.”

Jason frowned. “But you guys knew they worked with the GIW.”

Jazz gave him a warning look. “We knew they collaborated and consulted for them. We knew about the patent weapons.”

“But we didn’t know that they’d lead an attack on me.”

Danny did a brief pause to breathe, and stole more ice cream from his sister. She just pushed the cup towards him, apparently done with the treat.

Jason followed where the siblings were going. “They knew you’d be at the mall. That… That Phantom would be at the mall.” Danny looked up, his tired eyes confirming his thoughts. “They knew.”

It wasn’t a question.

Jazz nodded anyway. “We don’t know how long they did, but the truth is they knew about Danny. And went for him anyway.”

Minutes ticked by. Jason and Danny made quick work of their ice creams, lost in thought. Jazz checked her phone, frowned, and typed a few messages before putting it away.

“People died.”

Jason blinked at the non sequitur. Danny swallowed the last of the ice cream and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Neighbors, friends, people I knew. That day. They were fine and then they were dead.”

Guilt. It was clear as day.

“Is not your—”

“Don’t.” He cut him off. “Please.”

Jason nodded and decided to move on. “So you won the fight?”

“Barely. The ghosts were either captured by the GIW or retreated when they became outnumbered. Tucker and Sam managed to mess up with the idiots in white’s machines and weapons long enough for us to retreat. But we knew that wasn’t the end of it.

“We packed what we could and I hid at Sam’s, with the excuse that I would help her while she recovered — she broke her arm at the fight. We were a hundred percent sure if… if Jack and Maddie actually knew I was Phantom or not, but just in case.”

“I stayed. They didn’t target me so we were positive they didn’t know about me being liminal, so I stayed home.”

The vigilante frowned at Jazz. “What for?”

“Someone had to monitor them to see what they knew exactly. I also hid away any weapon they could potentially use against Danny.” She shrugged. “Not that it actually helped, because neither came back home in the weeks after the incident.”

“They were at the GIW base.” Danny crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat. The young man looked tired. “Because of course there was work to do with the captured ghosts.”

Jason hummed. “So they’ve been working on experimentation since then?”

Jazz shook her head. “We were telling the truth when we said they weren’t involved in that, at least not by the time we left Amity Park. Back then they were more involved in investigation on ghost containment and weapons research.”

He nodded, and turned back to Danny. “And the coup?”

The young man cursed under his breath. “Dealt with them.”

Jason waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What—”

“Listen, man.” He slapped the table and stood up. “That doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. I dealt with it. I accepted the damn crown and then told everybody to fuck off. And they have done that so far.” He breathed in, breathed out. “I’m nobody’s king, I’m just a simple guard now, okay? Nothing more, nothing less.”

With that, Danny walked away and left Jazz and Jason simmer in the tense silence. He looked at her, trying to gauge if he had said the wrong thing, but Jazz appeared apologetic.

“Before you ask — I don’t know either. Nobody does. He just… after we took down the GIW base, he took the captured ghosts back to the Realms. He came back two days later, hurt and barely coherent, and never spoke of what happened there. To anybody.” Not even me, the hurt statement was implied. “He was… changed. He didn’t say what happened but from what we could piece together it was bad, very bad.”

A myriad of possibilities crossed Jason’s mind. How bad is “very bad”? How much did Danny stir things up at the Realms that he had remained unbothered ever since? He tried to map the scars that he saw, and grimaced at the idea of two straight days of fighting after doing a raid to the GIW base.

Danny was done. With being a hero. With fighting. With trying to do the right thing.

What was even the “right thing” here? Going back to being the King of a dimension that doesn’t want him and he doesn’t want in return? Give it up, and risk someone worse taking control of so much power? Destroying the GIW? Going after their own parents?

He thought about the Joker. He asked Jazz when she was back from checking on the clown, and she willingly shared some details about his state. Jason never felt sorry for the fucker, but gained a new appreciation for Danny and his abilities.

The power to take someone’s soul and seal it inside their bodies — what else could he do? What other otherworldly and potentially devastating powers did he have at his disposal?

What else was he choosing not to face? What else was he running away from?

He stood up and followed Danny outside, finding him standing in the cold morning rain of Gotham. It wasn’t pouring, but it was easy to get soaking wet if you underestimated it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

Both ignored the door when Jazz quietly followed them out of the ice cream shop.

“Good.” The younger man looked up at the gray sky, maybe looking for the sun. Water droplets fell down his face, and he welcomed them with a relieved, albeit tiny, smile. “Because I don’t have anything else to say.”

Jason rolled his eyes. What a drama queen.

He glanced at Jazz, who was shaking her head. “Whatever you say, edgelord.”

She pulled Danny to her chest for a hug, which he only protested with a tiny grumble. Jason chuckled before he was pulled in too by a surprisingly strong grip.

“If I have to suffer sisterly hugs then so do you.”

Jazz giggled but welcomed the addition to her arms, not caring that she could barely hold both of them and her arms fell short. She squeezed them harder towards her chest, humming in delight.

Great, she was a hugger. Jason really didn’t need another Grayson in his life.

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

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[ggensblog]

post-halloween party | b.c.j.

summary: you take care of barty after coming home from a halloween party

inspired by this tiktok

content: alcohol, state of inebriation, gender neutral!reader, first time writing for barty, not dialogue heavy (bro i literally cannot write dialogue), intentional lowercase, this got a lot longer than i meant for it to be tbh, not proof read, but other than that it's just fluffy fluff

i do not in any way support or endorse j.k.rowling

word count: 949

masterlist

you stumbled into the apartment- the sudden give of the front door taking you slightly by surprise. your boyfriend tripped in behind you, nearly taking you out in the process. having just come home from the sirius black’s infamous annual halloween party, the two of you found yourselves in a less-than-sober state. some more than others.

you had paced yourself, finding yourself properly drunk at the beginning of the party and letting it slowly wear off throughout the rest of the night. your boyfriend, however, seemed to constantly have a drink in his hand- whether it be beer pong with james and sirius or shots with evan and dorcas. 

“barty let’s go wash your makeup off” you took barty’s hand in yours and lead him to your shared bathroom, flicking on the light and sighing at the mess of makeup all over the counter from the ‘getting ready pre-party’ barty had insisted on before you left. 

you would deal with that tomorrow. 

instead, barty leaned against the wall, his head lolling to the side, eyes hooded and a goofy smile plastered on his face. his hair maintained its spiked style thanks to the extra strong gel you had lended him, but the clown makeup barty had so carefully applied earlier in the evening was now smeared across his mouth and chin. you watched him for a second to make sure he wouldn’t fall over then got started on clearing a space on the counter to begin your nightly routine.

“you’re so pretty,” barty’s words blended together, you looked up at him in the mirror and raised a brow.

“don’t-” hiccup “don’t give me that, treasure, you’re always so pretty. my pretty love…” barty’s words trailed off and his eyes drifted closed for a second. you turned around and pinched the side of his arm. his eyes flew open and he moved his other hand to cradle where you had pinched him, a wounded expression appearing on his face.

“don’t go falling asleep on me, crouch, we’ve still got to get you cleaned up,” you chided lightly, handing him a bottle of face cleanser as you turned back to continue clearing a space around the sink.

barty went to pump soap into his hands but the bottle slipped to the floor. you laughed quietly and picked up the bottle, instead putting some of the soap into your hands and lathering it between them for a moment. you then took barty’s face in your hands and began to break down the layers of makeup and sweat.

barty turned to fully face you, placing one hand on the wall next to him to brace himself, and another on your hip. you adored barty’s simple connections. whether it be needing to have eyes or a hand on you at all times, you felt his love wash over you in waves over and over again.

as you continue to work the soap into his skin, he melts in your touch. barty’s eyes drift closed and his neck goes lax with his face still in your hands. you eye him fondly, taking a second to appreciate the complete peace of the moment, you run your hands over his forehead and under his eyes, slowly but surely cleaning away the makeup.

when you finish, you give the side of his face a light tap and step away to use the remainder of the soap in your hands to wash your own face. barty’s eyes reopen and he moves closer to you still, leaning in to kiss you. you dodge out of the way.

“rinse your face first” your voice is barely above a whisper in this moment, not needing to speak so loud in the quiet stillness of your home

barty huffs and turns to the sink, flicking it on and starting to splash water across his face.

and the rest of the counter.

you simply grinned, because at the end of the day it was just water.

once barty’s face was clear from makeup and soap, you stepped in to replace him at the sink, spooning water from the faucet to your face. barty once again leaned against the wall, placing both hands on your hips and letting his head drift back as you finished.

you grabbed a towel from the shelf and dried your face and hands then turned, bringing barty’s attention back to you. his pupils were blown out, and his eyebrows were drawn together now. you brought the towel up to his face and wiped away the remaining droplets of water on his forehead and chin.

you put the towel on the counter and turn back to stand there for another moment, placing your hands on barty’s arms as they remain on your hips. you breathe in the stark contrast between this moment and the party you had just come from with blaring music and flashing lights.

this time when barty leans in to kiss you, you don’t dodge him. you let his lips caress yours lightly, softly, and full of his wild love. it was these moments that were reserved for only you; when the crease between his eyebrows was erased and his shoulders relaxed with ease. you drew your arms up around his neck and into the sticky hair at the nape of it.

“thank you, treasure” he mumbles and kisses you once more, slower this time. his thumbs traced circles on your sides. you sighed with content and pulled away with a smile.

“let’s get you to bed,” your hands moved back down to his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze before they travelled further down his arms to take his hands and lead him out of the bathroom.

[sgiandubh]

Show must go on...

... and rather very much in your face, mind you.

Scottish Xena posted two stories at about 7 AM, counting calories, and, in the process, making sure to address roughly any objections that were ventilated on this side of the fandom, including this very page. See for yourself...

What are the odds she'd be talking about nutrition? Right. I am not an idiot. I know when something is way Over The Top - less is more, Xena. Less is always more: there was no need to overdo it like that, placemat and all, if you wanted to remain credible. You read us and you have been instructed to do so, just to perfectly stick to your walking, talking and very profitable Local Innuendo script.

Fair enough. And then, you also tell us that you will be at Hyrox today around noon, to film some ESN promo: your bread and butter, of course. S is just for shits, giggles and that Instagram yield:

So, there's that. *urv connecting dots like crazy, without having the slightest clue of what was discussed at that table. Her own brand of cheap fanfic for the masses, for the other five clowns commenting, out of which three at least are her own sock accounts.

Cue in the Useful Idiot. The Brazilian Tourist and Fan. Uma senhorita tão desagradável, who changed her story in between her first reaction reel and the debrief, back at her suburban Airbnb or where the fuck that was filmed.

First reaction reels:

'Just saw SH.' Not alone, oh no: 'com uma moça'. With a girl. So yeah, she had qualms asking for a pic.

First lie and dramatization. She posts a message for S where she explains she did not dare approach him, but she saw him alright. The one in Portuguese is completely different, though: 'I am going to post the video without sound, because I could only say "what a shame", while I was filming him on the sly. LOL.' I guess she thinks we are all idiots, or something. Also, in her reel, she confirms: 'ele estava almoçando com outra pessoa'/he was having lunch with another person. So far, so good, right?

Six hours later, a second debrief batch of reels, taking her reader's questions. The narrative changes, with a strong bias:

'Yes, he is super accessible and educated! I did not freak out, I just politely asked to take a pic (what I do consider the right way to approach famous people, at the end they are still human beings).'

For the people in the back: she is a lady. And a liar. The worst kind of liar, actually: a narcissistic one. Let's see what else she takes great pains telling us: 'ele tem um fandom bem tóxico'/he has a very toxic fandom. From now on, we just know what to expect, right?

Second answer, she explains he is very tall. He went inside to pay the bill and then he also went towards the bathroom (wtf?), she followed him inside, she asked for the menu, he finally went out and she approached him ('abordei' - 🙄) between the door and her table. Classy.

Cue in to a third answer (and second lie) to a very odd question: 'what did he smell like?' or something along those lines. For this one, I had to ask confirmation from Shipper Mom, who told me two things (she knew next to nothing about the whole episode- no bias): ' it's damn hard to understand what the hell she is talking about, she is eating half of her words. Plus you can tell she is lying.'

He doesn't smell, she tells us. But hey, she also freaked out a bit, finally (I thought she hadn't?!) and then well, 'ele estava com outra pessoa, uma moça, deve ser a namorada dele'/ he was with another person, a girl, probably his girlfriend'. But then he went inside (again? wasn't he coming out of the venue?), 'and the girl stayed at the table'. Things go murky afterwards, like they absolutely always do: she tells us she spoke to her (?), but would not say anything more, yet making sure to tell us she 'saw both of them'.

If anyone has a better version than mine, please step forward: we listened three times in a row, with Shipper Mom, a teacher of Portuguese and published literary translator. She was appalled by this young woman's carelessness and mendacity.

The Brazilian Tourist Fan is 23 years old (and it shows), she presents herself as a journalist and writer:

Seriously? What are the odds?

And finally, to wrap it up, the classical cheering moment, at yesterday's Hyrox: ' yeah, Sarah, nice!'

Nice, indeed.

FFS. Will it ever end?

Yes, it will. Anything ends: even Stalin's terror.

[yukidragon]

Mafia AU - A Sunny Family Name

I was thinking about the Mafia AU and I remembered a detail that slipped my mind in my most recent posts for it. In the SunnyTime Town AU, and in the trading cards for the SunnyTime Crew Show, Jack's parents actually have surnames. Heck, they even have an entire family tree!

Credit to Sauce for their amazing art and ideas as always. Why not consider dropping them a kind word or two? Also, consider supporting them and the rest of the SnaccPop Studios team by signing up for their patreon. Just remember not to share anything privately posted.

Since the SunnyTime Town AU and its clowns play important roles in the Mafia AU, it's only right that I use the proper family name. The Blouins are one of the biggest crime boss families in St. Valen's, with a long and shady history. Jack Blouin is the current head of both their legitimate business and their less than shady dealings.

Marceau Blouin has been in the business of committing international crimes for a long time. He has quite a few rumors about him, but few dare to speak badly of him.

Lucy Connolly, who still uses her maiden name, is very well known in the business world for her bubbly and friendly personality. She is the brains behind their family friendly front facing business. Between her and Marceau, they practically took over the city.

While the parents have stepped back from being in charge, Lucy and Marceau do help out from time to time. You never truly leave the family after all.

Speaking of family members, Caleb Connolly, the estranged brother of Lucy, tries to keep his distance from his sister after he realized just how deep and dark this new life she built for herself with Marceau was. She used to be such a good girl, and he always tried to protect her, keep her from getting into trouble and straying down the wrong path

Where did it all go so wrong?

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[angelickks]

celestial equivalent of a golden retriever ✮ CASTIEL

warning(s). light swearing. awkward cas and max. all around fluff! synopsis. The three times Max attempted to flirt with Castiel and the one time it worked pairing female oc! winchester x castiel

angel talks AGH!! first little drabble posted about max and cas. had sm fun with this one! as always, feel free to leave feedback darlings!

#NAV.ᐟ supernatural mlist ⋆.˚ oc! max winchester

ACT I: Porcelain Problems and Angelic Hands 

The Winchesters found themselves holed up in a haunted antique store in Vermont that looked like it would sell cursed clown figurines and smelt like old socks and secrets. Which is another way of saying: perfect hunt conditions. 

Max held the creepy porcelain doll at arm’s length using tongs, her expression somewhere between disgust and the kind of sarcastic reverence usually reserved for cursed objects and cheap whiskey. Dean paced near the salt bags. 

“Just salt and burn that creepy fuckin’ thing! Salt the creepy doll dammit!"

Sam, half buried in books on haunted antiques, replied “We can’t, this thing’s bound to a soul. Burn it wrong, and we could take out the whole building.” 

Max raised an eyebrow. “So..no flamethrower. Shame” 

Behind her, Castiel stood silently, eyes fixed on the doll like it personally offended Heaven. His head tilted. His brow furrowed. 

“Hand it to me,” Cas muttered. Max obliged, holding the thing at arm’s length with the tongs.

“You know,” Max started lightly, “for an angel of the Lord, you’ve got really nice hands.” 

Cas blinked. Looked down at his hands. Then at the doll, then back at her. 

“Thank you. I…use them frequently.” 

Max blinked 

Dean dropped a canister of salt with a loud clang. “What the hell was that supposed to be?”

“I think that was his version of blushing,” Max deadpanned. 

────

ACT II: Pickup Line from Heaven 

Two nights later, the haunted doll was long gone, the soul safely freed, the group had checked themselves into a suspiciously pink motel outside of Albany. Max found herself out by the Impala in the cool night air, sharpening her demon blade by moonlight. 

Cas appeared quietly beside her, like he always did. Silent. Comfortable in that uncomfortably intense way. 

Max glanced sideways and decided, to hell with it. 

“So…” she started, “do you fall from Heaven often, or just that once?” 

Cas turned to look at her, face utterly blank. Processing. 

“I did fall once,” he said sincerely. “It was extremely painful. I do not recommend it.” 

She stared at him as he stared right back. A dog barking in the distance broke their silence. 

“That was a pickup line,” she muttered. 

Cas looked mildly alarmed. “I did not drop anything” 

She put her face in her hands. “Oh my god, Iʻm flirting with a holy firewall wearing a trenchcoat.” 

Cas stepped closer. “Am I… doing poorly?” 

Max groaned. “No, Castiel. You’re doing perfectly. That’s the problem.” 

Dean opened the door just then and walked out holding a second beer for Max. He stopped. Took one look at Max standing in emotional crisis and Cas looking like a confused golden retriever. 

Turned around. Shut the door. 

Dean, muffled through the window: “Nope. Not tonight."

Dean jumped at the abrupt bang on the door. Turning around slowly only to make eye contact with Max’s blade lodged into the door. 

“Y’know kids shouldn’t play with sharp objects, young lady!” 

────

ACT III: One Honest Moment 

The third time it happened, Max hadn't meant to flirt. That's what made it worse.

They were holed up in an abandoned house, post hunt, Dean asleep and Sam plugged in on his computer. She was carving a protection sigil into her boots, one she redid every hunt. Cas watched quietly from the doorway, as he often did when the world got quiet.

She finally glanced up.

"If you weren't an angel," she asked softly, "what would you be?"

Cas tilted his head slightly, caught off guard by the question but not displeased.

“I think,” he said slowly, “I would like to be someone who makes things with their hands. Like you.”

Max stilled. Looked up at him, really looked.

And for a second, she forgot how to breathe.

Cas stepped closer. His voice was lower now.

“You create. You protect. You stitch the broken back together. That is… divine.”

She blinked fast, suddenly unsure what to do with all the emotions attacking her chest.

And then Cas added, with the devastating sincerity only he could deliver:

"Also, you are very symmetrical. That is attractive to many humans."

Max choked on her tea.

Sam, passing in the hallway, paused.

"Is...is he complimenting your bone structure?"

Max sputtering, "He said I'm hot like a human geometry chart!"

Cas, confused but pleased. "You are."

[succulentsstars]

As most things are, the truth is in the in between.

What I mean is the two takes I’ve seen in the post-power bottom-Phil timeline:

1. Dnp are over sharing their sex life after saying they wouldn’t bc they don’t care about what we think so long as the gen public doesn’t bug them

2. Dnp are obvs making a joke to play off the silliness of the innuendo (which they’ve done longgg before they came out just they just find that funny) and anyone reading into it is by stepping their boundary of not wanting people to demand the juicy details of their person/treat their sex life like the latest hot gossip.

It’s obviously Dan playing to get a rise out of us and a rise out of Phil. But like- it’s funny to them to joke about it. Phil was dying at it. A joke without context is like a gen alpha brainrot meme.

Dan was tsk tsking at us for taking it seriously. But it was obvs like the whole toilets facing each other- they’re the ones who brought it up and made it a thing. Power-bottom Phil was DEFINITELY not a common joke or theme running through the phandom previously.

All the same, Dnp are treating it as a lighthearted joke like “oh hehe I’m teasing Phil for the all of these sex implications about us” and I think we should follow their lead. It is tee hee silly bc those two are our beloved internet clowns.

It’s the whole “labels” thing they don’t like. I mean, Dan had a whole section about it in BIG! And while Phil hasn’t expressed it in the way Dan does, he seems to feel similarly.

Basically no “omg Phil you’re such a bottom hehe Dan has a big dick 😋” (especially in areas they can see) and we’re fine.

Dan’s sexuality reveal started with lighthearted comments for him to test the waters (“wtf is your sexuality” “sexually ambiguous nerd” “and something else in my mouth ((remember how we made that one into a bigger deal than he thought it’d be and it got messy?))” )

Let’s sit back and let them plop some pebbles into to phannie pond. If the TIT era has taught us anything: it’s different now.