#And I was a kid and just wanted to have fun

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main.

---

Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.

The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.

Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.

On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!

It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.

So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.

Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.

He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.

...

Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.

He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.

His head hurts.

"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.

Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.

The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.

A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.

Then, he appears.

It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.

“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”

His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.

The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.

"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"

That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.

It's not real.

It's not real.

It's not-

"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.

The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.

And new.

Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.

The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.

Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.

"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”

Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”

“You could say yes.”

“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”

He seems to have taken the being by surprise.

It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”

“Did you just make up that name?”

The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."

That last sentence had given away more than it should have.

"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.

Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."

He needed a break.

...

And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.

After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.

But that's another story.

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

[foldingfittedsheets]

My mom longs for traditions but lacks the wherewithal to actually develop any. Growing up she’d always try to make some new Christmas gimmick that we could do each year. They never stuck. She’d forget, or we wouldn’t want to continue and she’d give up.

One year she had us sew our own stockings. This wasn’t a huge hit as I was requested to sew immediately upon waking, a skill I largely lack. My brother hated his inadequacy as I don’t think he’d gotten even the cursory education I had with a needle and thread. I think mom thought we’d make new ones each year and they’d be like a fun memento. Our dissatisfaction with the whole thing meant we skipped it the next year and I’ve been using the same janky stocking that I sewed half asleep ever since.

For two years she tried to do holiday cookie decorating but my dad griped about all the sugar in the house while gorging on cookies and the tradition faded away.

For a few years she remembered to always put a geode in the stocking that we could break open with a hammer. It was fun at first, but I had to eventually ask her to stop because I didn’t have anywhere to keep a million geodes.

We went to movies some years but trying to find a film we all wanted to see proved troublesome enough that it fizzled out.

This last holiday she just announced they’d be leaving for December and didn’t do anything with family at all.

She pines for familial connection while having little idea of how to maintain relationships. It’s more important for her to have a smiling picture as a memory than to actually be happy. She wants a picture perfect family that gets along and is constantly disappointed by what she has instead.

One of her favorite photos is the last camping trip we went on as a family, me and my siblings with their kids. She croons about how nice it was to have us all together and I don’t say that all I remember from the trip is learning my brother was a drug addict and seeing my sister hit my nephew across the face.

I reached out recently to suggest that since we’ve all got bikes now and my parents are both officially retired we can do a weekly bike ride. This was met with delight and excitement.

We had our first ride today and it was genuinely pretty fun. We’ll see if it can last a month.

[luveline]

hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!

thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage. 

You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again. 

It’s not fun. 

You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it. 

Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner. 

The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird

A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you? 

You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes 

You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you 

You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush. 

I miss you too, you text back. 

Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later

Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home. 

You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy. 

“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?” 

“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.” 

“Okay, see you in a second,” he says. 

He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all. 

He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.” 

You lean down further. “I’m okay.” 

He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms. 

“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.

“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.” 

You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.

“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly. 

“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask. 

“I don’t want mystery with you.” 

Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes. 

“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks. 

You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand. 

“Or Chinese? What do you want?” 

You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?” 

Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.

Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines. 

[thelostconsultant]

Cheerleader

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

summary: Charles has a cheerleader, and temporary admin Ollie is ready to post about it.

“You just let him do that?” you asked your boyfriend as the two of you were sitting on chairs you had brought closer to the main entrance of the Ferrari motorhome.

You picked that place because you wanted to keep an eye on one of his adopted sons who was having fun with Kimi in the pouring rain without a jacket, an umbrella, or at least a baseball cap that you tried to put on his head before he left. On your side Charles shrugged. “I’ll convince him to get in bed and drink a lot of tea when we get back to the hotel. He’s a good kid, he’ll listen to me,” he said, although his doubts seeped through the cracks on his chill mask.

With a hum, you nodded, then returned your attention to your phone. “Have you seen his tweet from his brief admin era?” When he shook his head, you showed him the tweet that you found hilarious, especially because he was referring to the latest Lollipopman video. “Do you know who he was writing about?”

Fun fact: @Charles_Leclerc does have a cheerleader, it’s just not who you think - OB

Charles looked at you with a smile, then even reached out to take your hand. “You, obviously,” he said lovingly.

“Try again,” you told him with a laugh, and his smile disappeared as it was replaced by genuine confusion. “Well, I do talk to our son, so it wasn’t that hard to find out. Then I asked him if I was right, and guess what? I was!”

For a few seconds he was watching you in silence, the gears in his head turning while he thought about this. “Oh.”

“Oh.”

“I told you he’s a good kid. Loves his dad,” he noted before taking a sip of his coffee. 

Letting out a thoughtful hum, you looked back at Ollie. “He sure does,” you confirmed. “Shouldn’t we… I don’t know, ask him to come inside to dry up a bit?”

“I’ll go, you stay here and look out for my coffee, please.”

[theostrophywife]

brother's bsf! mattheo who you've had a crush on for years.

but he's only ever seen you as theo's little sister (or so he says).

it doesn't matter that you and theo are only a year apart. your older brother is extremely protective of you and so are the rest of his friends — especially mattheo.

you grew up around the boys, which was a blessing and a curse in and of itself. on one hand, you grew super close to mattheo, but on the other hand, he's seen you through your awkward braces and pigtails phase.

lately though, brother's bsf! mattheo starts to notice you. really notice you.

suddenly, you didn't seem so little to him anymore.

but over the years, your infatuation with your brother's best friend calmed to attraction instead. you've come to accept that while mattheo would always be your first crush, that's all it would really ever amount to. a harmless little childhood crush.

thanks to theo, you hadn't gotten much of a chance to date when you were younger, but now that you were starting uni with the rest of the boys, you were determined to push those silly little feelings for mattheo away and start putting yourself out there.

granted, you had a lot to learn given your sheltered upbringing.

boys had taken a liking to you. why wouldn't they? you're pretty, you're smart, and you're the perfect combination of sweet and sassy, but you were also extremely naïve.

brother's bsf! mattheo had to protect you.

it was his responsibility.

theo trusted him to keep an eye on you. so he did.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo glares at any boy that dares to look at you.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo revs his motorcycle and comes in hot when he sees anyone talking to you, handing you the pink helmet he keeps on him at all times without a single word.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo gives you rides to your dorm and takes you out for ice cream after a particularly hard exam.

it's clear that mattheo has a soft spot for you. no matter how vehemently he denies it.

until the night that everything changed.

it was a chilly friday evening when you happily skipped out of your dorm building, eager to attend your first frat party.

the cute boy in your history class asked you to come with him and you immediately said yes despite not knowing what to expect. it seemed fun and exciting and a little bit dangerous.

as luck would have it, you ran into none other than mattheo on your way out. his sleek black motorcycle was parked on the curb, smoke wafting from his lips as he took a lazy drag of his cigarette. leaning against his bike, mattheo raised a brow as you strutted onto the sidewalk.

"where do you think you're going, nott?"

"to a party, matty."

"with who?"

"a friend."

mattheo narrows his eyes at you. "I know all your friends and they're busy tonight. so which friend is it?"

you sigh in frustration. "just a friend from class. god, you sound like theo right now."

"you're not going anywhere wearing that."

"what's wrong with my dress?"

you smoothed down the front of your red minidress self-consciously, shying away from mattheo's intense gaze. his chocolate brown eyes scanned your body, the heat of his stare dragging along your skin.

"for starters, that dress barely covers anything and knowing you, you'll be cold within the first few minutes."

"I'll be fine, mattheo. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

mattheo crosses his arms, huffing at your statement. "so you told theo where you're headed off to tonight?"

you shrugged. "what my brother doesn't know won't hurt him."

"yes, but he might hurt anyone stupid enough to ogle you in that dress. as will I. maybe I should tell him what his baby sister is up to. better yet, maybe I should come with you to this party, hm?"

"no please," you pleaded. "I just want one night where I'm not being treated like a little kid. can you give me that, matty? please?"

you flashed your best puppy dog eyes at him, knowing that he couldn't possibly resist when you asked so nicely.

mattheo considers it for a moment before sighing in defeat. "fine, princess. but text me when you get there and call me when you're home. don't even think about turning your location off or else I'll send a brigade after you."

"yes sir."

"good girl."

before brother's bsf! mattheo could think better of it, you kiss his cheek and promise to call him later that night.

brother's bsf! mattheo watches you strut away in your tight little dress with a soft smile on his face, fully knowing that you had him wrapped around your finger.

by the time you arrive at the party, it's in full swing. music is blaring, drinks are flowing, and the frat house is packed to the brim with people.

you send a quick text to mattheo to let him know you've arrived before spotting aiden.

clearly, your date was already a few drinks in. he greets you with a lingering hug before handing you a red cup. "cheers, y/n."

"cheers," you respond, clinking your cup against his and taking a generous swig. the liquor burns your throat and aiden chuckles as you try to hide your wincing.

still, it does the job.

you loosen up after a few sips. aiden introduces you to his friends and you smile politely, trying not to squirm out of his hold as he pulls you in by the waist.

it's fine, he's just keeping you close in such a packed crowd. he doesn't mean any harm by it.

at least that's what you told yourself.

until aiden tries to make a move on you in the middle of the dance floor. you already told him that you didn't want to dance, but he insisted.

you could smell the liquor on his breath as he grabbed your hips, moving them along to the rhythm of the song. you tried to put some distance between you, but aiden didn't seem deterred by it. in fact, his wandering hands slide down to your lower back until they're planted firmly on your ass. you attempted to pry them away, but he slurred "relax" into your ear before giving your ass a squeeze.

that was the tipping point for you.

with all your strength, you shoved aiden off while he cursed after you. the lights were blinding as you made your way through the crowd, fleeing to the bathroom.

you had brother's bsf! mattheo's number dialed before you even closed the door.

surprisingly, he picks up on the first ring.

"hi matty, are you — are you busy right now?"

"I'm with the boys. how'd the party go, princess?"

"um, I'm still here and I just really want to go home."

you hear shuffling on the other end. presumably mattheo finding somewhere more private to speak with you. "I thought your friend was your ride home?"

"well, aiden's drunk and he's been getting a little handsy the whole night so I don't really feel safe going home with him."

"what?" mattheo hisses. "you didn't tell me you were with a guy. I never would've let you go off alone with some random prick."

"please don't be mad, matty. I just wanted to have fun without worring about my brother hovering over my shoulder. don't tell theo, please. I'll — I'll figure it out. I'll find another ride."

"like hell you are! drop your location. the boys and I are coming."

"no, please. I don't want this to be a whole thing. if theo finds out, he'll never let me out of his sight again."

you could feel mattheo grappling with the situation. part of him wanted to tell his best mate, but all he truly cared about was getting to you as quickly as he could. after a few moments, he sighs. "fine, I won't tell your brother, but I'm still coming to get you. stay where you are, princess and don't hang up the phone. I'm on my way, okay?"

"you really don't have to —"

the argument dies in your throat when you hear the sound of mattheo's motorcycle starting up. he wasn't going to let you talk him out of this. mattheo was coming, whether you wanted him to or not.

"too late. be a good girl and stay on the line with me, sweetheart. I'm coming for you."

brother's bsf! mattheo pays no mind to the boys as they joke about him meeting up with a booty call.

the only thing that matters to him is getting to you.

brother's bsf! mattheo weaves through campus, revving and racing his motorcycle as fast as it can possibly go.

it's too noisy to talk while he rides, but he stays on the line anyways, listening through one earphone as you quietly hum to help calm yourself. mattheo smiles to himself. it's one of his favorite quirk of yours. half of the time, you don't even notice you're doing it. but he does. he notices everything about you.

mere minutes have passed since you first called him, but it feels like an eternity to mattheo when he finally pulls up to the decrepit frat house at the edge of campus.

mattheo parks his motorcycle on the curb, glaring at the prying eyes trained on him. it's not every day that the mattheo riddle, resident bad boy pulls up to a party looking like he's absolutely ready to kill someone with his bare hands.

he has half a mind to burst into the bloody house and pummel that stupid prick for daring to touch you, but the sight of you approaching stops him cold.

you look flustered and fearful, lower lip trembling as you spill out into the sidewalk. mattheo instantly sees red. he vows to make that motherfucker pay for this.

"where is he?"

"mattheo —"

"where. the. fuck. is. he?"

"probably somewhere inside drunk off his arse. I don't know and I don't care. can we please just go?"

despite his anger, you don't balk from him. in fact, you've got both hands pressed firmly against his chest to hold him back.

brother's bsf! mattheo grips your hips, your noses pressing together as he carefully inspects you. making sure you were alright is the only thing keeping him from committing violence.

"tell me where he is."

though mattheo's words are tinged with fury, his tone remains soft and sweet. his voice is nothing but a whisper because even at his angriest, mattheo would never raise his voice at you.

“give me a name, sweetheart. just give me his name."

"it's fine, matty. he's not worth the trouble."

“he left you alone, at a party where you don’t know anyone, got too drunk even though he knows he’s your ride home and got handsy with you even though you weren’t into it. give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck him up right now?”

“I can handle him later. can we please just go home? I'm tired and I just want to be in bed now.”

the cold air makes you shiver as you mentally curse yourself for picking such a skimpy outfit when hours ago you felt foolishly confident in your dress.

brother's bsf! mattheo softens when he sees you trembling. without a word, he takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. the scent of amber and cinnamon envelopes you all at once, lulling you into a calmer state.

"okay, princess. let me take you home."

once mattheo secures the baby pink helmet over your head, he tells you to hang on tight before taking off.

you hug his midsection, resting your chin on his shoulder as mattheo drives slow through the sprawling campus. the streets are empty, but he drags out the ride, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible.

at the strike of midnight, the two of you finally reach your dorm.

although you insist that you're fine, brother's bsf! mattheo walks you all the way up to your door.

the fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you shift your weight form one foot to the other, suddenly feeling shy.

"thanks for picking me up, matty."

"of course, y/n. you know I'd do anything if you're the one asking."

you smile, trying your hardest to hide the blush on your cheeks. "I hope I didn't ruin your night."

mattheo shrugs. "not at all. before you called, I was watching berkshire stuff marshmallows down his throat while the boys cheered him on. trust me, you weren't interrupting anything important."

"still. I appreciate you coming to my rescue and not ratting me out to my brother."

mattheo smiles. "it's our little secret, princess."

the double meaning of the words causes tension between you and the pull that you've always felt towards mattheo feels stronger than ever, tugging you closer.

maybe tonight is the night that you finally feel brave enough to fall.

"goodnight, matty."

brother's bsf! mattheo watches as you get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek like you always do. except this time, you lean in for a proper kiss.

as soon as mattheo's lips touch yours, you feel your entire body erupt like fireworks. it's everything you imagined it to be and more. his lips are soft against yours, supple and inviting. the kiss takes him by surprise, but once he realizes what's happening, he groans into your mouth, the sound of it filled with need.

dazed and confused, you look up as mattheo pulls away, his big brown eyes scanning your face. "we shouldn't do this, princess."

despite his words, mattheo's hand rests itself on your hip, his thumb brushing gentle circles against your exposed skin. you gulp as he stares at you, your lips brushing, your bodies gravitating towards each other no matter how hard you try to fight the pull.

"is it because of my brother?"

"no," mattheo growls. "we shouldn't do this because I don't know if I'll be able to stop once we start."

"I don't want you to stop, mattheo."

as soon as the words leave your lips, mattheo is kissing you again, and this time, he isn't holding back. you cling onto his shirt as he kisses you hard, the force of it hitting you all at once. his fingers dig into your hips as you bend at the waist, desperately kissing back.

his head is reeling and his heart is pounding. mattheo is drowning in your taste, your touch, your smell. you're every drug rolled into one; seductive and sinful. he's addicted and he can't get enough.

brother's bsf! mattheo doesn't want to pull away. he wants to stay here and live in this moment forever, but he knows that if he does, he'll end up taking everything.

foreheads pressed together, mattheo leans in for one last kiss. this one is sweet and gentle, enough to satiate him for the moment.

"sleep tight, princess. I'll see you in the morning."

"see you in the morning, matty."

brother's bsf! mattheo can't help but take one last look at you, a soft smile on his face when he sees your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips.

in that moment, he knows he's fucked. you're his best mate's little sister. he shouldn't have kissed you. he shouldn't feel this way for you. he should've stopped before it was too late, but you were both way past that now.

now that he's had you, he won't want anything else. it's you he'll always crave. it's you he'll always long for. and he doesn't give a fuck what it takes to get you.

brother's bsf! mattheo won't stop until you're his and his alone. *✧･ﾟ:*

[giuseppe-yuki]

Since franco is quite unhinged and not PR trained, I feel like his girlfriend would be equally as unhinged and unpredictable like an orange cat constantly doing stupid things like climbing on stupid things and doing funny stuff around the paddock and becoming a fan favourite duo of unpredictable and hilarious behaviour - especially in the fan zone

FRANCO’S POOR PR MANAGER!!!!!

picture credits from pinterest :)

franco colapinto x orange cat shapeshifter!reader

“franco,” the disheveled looking woman snaps, a look of pure annoyance on her face. “tell your fucking cat to get down from those spare tires right now!

rolling his eyes, franco stops his laughter from looking at you prancing on tires and beckons you over.

leaping off the tower of rubber tires, you scamper over to his side, butting your head playfully against his leg. you couldn’t understand why you couldn’t have a little fun in the paddock though. it was media day, and those were soooo boring. his pr manager was a total killjoy. and besides, the fans loved you, so wouldn’t that be good for your boyfriend’s public image?

as if proving your point, the fans gathered around the fanzone squeal as you pad next to franco and his disgruntled pr manager.

while he stops momentarily to sign a few pieces of merch, you claw your way up his shoulder. the man getting his merch signed laughs, pointing his camera at your purring figure perched on franco.

“yeah, sorry, she does that sometimes,” you boyfriend remarks, recapping the pen and handing it back to the fan.

you grin at him, flashing your sharp cat canines at the camera. suddenly, an epic thought crosses your mind. what if you did a backflip off of franco’s shoulder and landed on the ground perfectly? that would be kind of cool.

gathering your wits, you leap off of your boyfriend and do two flips in the air before landing gently on your four paws. the fans in the fanzone erupt into cheers.

“ha!” your boyfriend laughs, pointing at you proudly leaping in circles on the ground. “simone biles who? make way for next big olympic gymnast!”

seeing the commotion, franco’s pr manager speeds over. “franco!” she hisses, dragging him away from the crowd. “you can not be saying that! we don’t want a bad public image from you slandering simone biles!”

“slandering???” franco says, in shock. “i was not slandering. i was merely making a comparison between her and my extraordinarily talented cat!”

you meow loudly, as if backing him up.

franco’s pr manager just pinches her nose and groans.

it’s not even ten minutes before you accidentally get yourself into trouble again.

a young fan sits on the sidewalk, talking animatedly to his mother, leaving his lunch open and inviting. hey, if he didn't want it, you’d gladly take it. you were pretty much starving after spending a good part of the day doing media duties with franco.

charging towards the open container, you take a huge bite of the contents, which turns out to be lasagna.

the boy turns around, eyes wide at seeing not only the orange cat eating his food, but also at franco colapinto jogging towards him.

“i-i-is this your cat?” he stutters out, blinking quickly at the sight in front of him, disbelieving.

“er, yes,” franco responds. scooting by the kid, he bends down and grabs you by the scruff of your neck, trying his best to separate you from the container of lasagna that you were trying your best to shove into your mouth at an ungodly speed.

the boy, seeing your actions, laughs. “she’s just like garfield!”

your boyfriend only successfully removes you from the container after you’ve devoured the entire piece of lasagna. “sorry buddy,” he says to the kid sheepishly, with your tomato-sauce covered body dangling from one hand. “i’ll give you a piece of merch to make up for the lasagna.”

still manhandling you with one hand, he uncaps a sharpie with his teeth and scribbles his signature on his own williams-branded jacket. he shrugs it off with a bit of difficulty before dumping it in the kid’s arms. the small fan ecstatically beams at franco, and thanks him profusely.

when your boyfriend squeezes by the crowd of people that were gathered to see the scene play out, he finds his pr manager standing with her arms crossed with a rather disappointed look on her face.

“did you even think before doing whatever that was?” she questions franco, simultaneously glaring at you.

when you give her a hiss of annoyance at reprimanding your boyfriend, she just about snaps.

“yeah, you’re done,” she say irritatedly. “franco, take yourself and your cat back into your driver’s room. you're grounded. both of you are prohibited from coming out for the next hour.”

you giggle inside. that’s a win for you, honestly. an hour with just yourself and franco? sounds like a great time to get into a little more mischief!

[writeaboutit]

Donation Boot

How firefighter Abby and Reader met

Hello hello it’s been a bit so sorry but I had this idea for a series of sorts following firefighter Abby x Reader through life. I have ideas for a couple more stories but if you have any suggestions leave them in my inbox for sure 🤍

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none just fluff

You heard her key jingle in the lock from the kitchen. The metal on metal scratching noise was like music to your ears despite it being like nails on a chalkboard to others.

That noise meant your wife was finally home. All day you had been waiting for her to come home, missing her warm cuddles. She left for the station before you had even woken up.

Usually you stirred awake for the briefest of moments in those early hours when you heard the shower start, you made it a point to stay awake just long enough to say an I love you as you sent her off to do her work. You never knew when it might be your last so you didn’t chance it.

But last night the melatonin must have hit you extra hard because you didn’t even register Abby’s movements when she leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to your brow bone before clunking out of the room in her steel toed boots.

You regretted not waking up; no more melatonin for you.

The front door creaked open and you heard your dog’s collar jingle as she ran to greet your wife.

Abby must have been following the dogs lead to your presence in the kitchen because you heard her mutter, “Come on, where’s your momma?”

Your heart was instantly a mushy puddle on the tile floor following the comment. Just as you finished drying your hands the love of your life rounded the corner.

She was wearing her normal uniform. Not the big, bulky, fireproof suit but the fitted jeans and the navy blue t-shirt with the station’s logo over her breast.

You were such a sucker for a woman in uniform, it’s how she caught your attention in the first place. But what kept you around was that blinding smile she had plastered across her face that first day.

You and your friends decided to visit your local farmers market during second year of college. It was a fluke really, you weren’t even planning to go with them but after days of them whining that you could spare a couple of hours away from the text books and come have fun you agreed.

The local fire station had a booth set up collecting donations and the truck open for kids to climb in and take pictures.

One of your friends thought a fire fighter was hot and insisted on getting a picture with him by the truck (her very obvious way of flirting). You couldn’t blame her though because you had your eye on one of the younger trainees.

She was working the booth, tracking donation levels and you knew you would hate yourself for the rest of your life if you ignored your gut.

So, despite you being 19 and a broke college student you approached. They were collecting cash donations in one of the big fire suit boots.

You slipped the only cash you had on you into the dark depths of the boot, ten dollars, and were planning to make your way back to your friends, chickening out of talking to her, when all of the sudden you heard, “Hey, wait!”

You turned around and there she was. She had gotten up from her perch and made her way around the table. It was a bit jarring at first. She was tall, muscular, that tight ponytail made her look very sever, and here she was leaning over you with an expectant look.

“Yes?” you asked hesitantly.

“Don’t you want your coupons?” she asked suddenly realizing that she was close and backing up a step.

“Sorry?”

The confusion must have been written on your face because she immediately explained in a sort of rambily but very cute way, “When you donate you get a coupon to the local grocery store… and some other stores but honestly there all the old lady stores in the mall. The grocery ones the only one worth it.”

You just smiled softly at her over explanation. You expected her to be this over confident, maybe slightly douchy character from the way she approached before but really you could see her nerves peaking through now.

It only made you more attracted to her in all honesty.

“Oh right, yeah thanks.” you took the coupon sheet from her and after a moment of tense silence between the pair of you, you both went your separate ways.

It wasn’t until later that night when you went to cut out the grocery coupon and throw out the rest that you realized she had messily scribbled her name and number onto the think colorful price of paper.

You squealed, your roommate asked what was wrong and then you both quickly plotted on what you should text her.

It was simple really just a quick hey this is so n’ so, how are you?

Your phone only sat face down for a total of three minutes before you heard the chime of her reply and the rest is history.

Now seven years later your wife, the nervous fire fighter with the tight ponytail, was coming home to you. You would share a meal, a shower, a bed. It was the life you always wanted and all because you went to a farmers market on a random Sunday seven years ago.

That blinding smile that caught your attention all those years ago was plastered across her face now in the small kitchen of your small house.

Her setting her bag down on the island brings you out of your memory.

“Hey honey,” you greet, making your way to her.

“Hi baby, what were you thinking about just now?” she wraps her arms loosely around your waist.

“Hmm nothing much just your pretty smile,” she rolls her eyes, never one to take a compliment, “Speaking of which, that smile usually means you’re plotting something. What is it?”

She looks down at you and smiles, “You know me too well. I was plotting on what we are going to do over the next three days that I have off of work.”

That gets you excited. It’s not often that she gets time off of work. Sometimes you don’t even see her for days at a time when she has to sleep at the station. Three days off in a row is practically unheard of.

“Really?”

“Swear,” she kisses your forehead.

“Eek, so what were you planning?”

She chuckles and belts her arms just under your thighs, lifting you into the air, “Oh I think you know exactly what i have planned.”

Her voice turned seductive and husky. You squealed as you became level with her face. You both laughed into a soft kiss, one that was definitely going to lead to a forgotten dinner on the stove and a closed bedroom door.

[akyonceyar]

Tim: I don't understand. I thought we were on the same page about kids. We talked about this. Kon: We did? --flashback-- Tim: Aww, look at these pictures my brother sent of Lian. *shows a pic of Lian going down a water slide* We should do this someday. What do you think? Kon: Are you kidding me? Of course! --present-- Kon: I was talking about going to the water park. You were talking about having kids?! Tim: Yeah! I said "Do you think we can afford it?" and you said, "We'll start saving right away." Kon: So let me get this straight. All that water park money I've been saving, you want to spend it on kids now? Tim: Yeah. Why would you want to spend that much money on a water park? Kon: Look, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say here. I just- I never wanted children. Tim: Well, I always have. Kon: Alright, so how do we handle this? Tim: I mean, there's only one thing to do when 2 people have diametrically opposing views on a subject. Kon: Talk about it lovingly and decide how to move forward? Tim: Structured debate. Kon: Oh. Fun. Tim: High school format. Modified Lincoln-Douglas. Let's take one hour for research and prep. Yeah. Kon: Great. I'll just do a Lincoln-Douglas.

[tiredsmashbros]

SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE

oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.

starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!

here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!

jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!

currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.

and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!

oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away

now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...

if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]

ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd

...

...

...

thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...

[homestylehughes]

bed chem.

pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader

warning(s): fluff. mutual pinning. very slight slow burn. suggestive content. 18+.

wc: 1.5K

an: hi lovesss!!!! I present you with a new fic, finally. this song is loosely based off of "bed chem" by sabrina carpenter, and the one and only quinn hughes. this is one of my favorites, I'm really happy with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy, like and reblog if you did :)

as always, much much love <3

He caught your attention in a room full of people, your eyes stuck to him like glue. Your eyes followed his every movement, watching him wordlessly from across the busy club. Watching how he interacted with the people around him, how his lips broke into a smile as he laughed at something someone said to him. 

He, whoever he was, was beautiful. From his hair, eyes, smile, everything. Not to mention how his white fitted shirt looked on him. The fit was so perfect, it almost looked like it was painted on him. You felt like a creep looking at him, but you couldn't help it. There was just something about him that was almost addictive? Something bad, but yet so so good. 

“Are you done staring at him like a creep, or are you gonna go over and say something?” your friend says besides you, snapping you out of daydream

“I wasn't looking..just observing” you say, clearing your throat, before taking a drink of the watered down cocktail in front of you in hopes to avert your gaze from the Greek god of a man in front of you. 

“Well..he and his friends just looked over here and pointed.” she giggles from besides you

“Shit. Are you joking? Youve got to be joking right?” you whisper-yell to her in a state of panic 

“Nope,” she says, popping the p.

“Oh god, yn they're coming over here now.” she says frantically 

“Oh my god” you say, moving to sit up straighter in your seat. Your eyes move to follow the very attractive man and his friends make their way over to you guys. 

“Shit he is hot, and so are his friends.” your friend gushes out besides you 

“Shut it, act normal, talk to me about something.” you say quickly, your eyes flickering to the men who are moving in closer. 

Your friend starts talking to you about something random, but you can't concentrate on her words. Your mind is locked in the man approaching, that you can't gather another thought about anything else, as you watch them in the corner of your eye. Just as they are about to reach the table, another large group of men cuts in front of them. Wrapping each of the men into hugs, yelling and smiling as they interact, with what you assume are their friends. 

“Youve got to be kidding me” she says, stopping mid sentence of her empty word ramble. 

“ well..thats, that i guess” you sign out, looking as the men pull each other to the bar in the opposite direction. 

“Guy in the white shirt is looking at you, look up look up.” she says slapping your arm 

Quickly reacting, pulling your head up. Your eyes find him quickly, as he looks back at you. Sending you a quick wink and smirk before he turns around following his friends. 

“Oh my gosh. Yn he so wants you” 

“I don't even know if i'll see him again”

“Never say never.” 

You giggle at her opsitism, before throwing the rest of your drink back, hopping out of your seat, moving to grabher hands pulling her towards the dance floor. 

“Come on! We came to have fun, right?” you shout at her, as you two giggle walking hand in hand to the dance floor. 

– 

After lots of fun, maybe too much fun and a few more drinks later. You finally make your way back to your hotel. You come back solo you might add, your friend being pulled away by a hot mysterious man who caught her attention. Leading her to follow him out of the club with a wide smile on her face. 

Sighing deeply as you stare at your shoes waiting for the elevator door to open, a few moments later a loud ding signals in the opening. Heading in quickly, and hitting your floor. Leaning your exposed back against the cool elevator door, the only thing on your mind is taking off your shoes, and washing a somewhat disappointing night out away. 

Just as the elevator is about to close, you hear a man shouting to hold the door. Pushing yourself off the wall to hit the open button. The out of breath man quickly moves in, as you look up to ask him what floor he needs, you're face to face with, hot fitted white shirt man, who's staring at you with widened eyes. 

“What floor do you need?” you ask quietly, struggling to find your words.

“Um, 69 please, oh wait you've already pressed that.” The man finally speaks to you, his deep voice filling the now closed elevator. 

“You're the girl from the club tonight.” he says looking over at you from across the elevator. 

“And you're the guy” you say

“Felt you looking at me, the whole night” he says, his words causing a blush to rise to your cheeks as you look back down at your shoes. 

“Don't be embarrassed, i was looking too.” he continues 

“I saw” you spoke 

“Almost had you too” he says 

“Almost..” you repeat to him softly, your gaze flickering between his lips and eyes. 

“Well we’re here now” he replies 

“You have 9 floors to make something happen..” you trail off 

“Quinn. My names quinn” he says 

“Yn. my names yn” 

“Well yn i only need 2 floors to make this happen” quinn says, quickly making his way over to you. One of his hands meeting your hip as the other holding your face, pulling you into him, your lips connecting as one.

The motion happens so quickly you barely have time to register what your body is doing until you're kissing him back quickly. Your hands tangle themselves into his hair as you pull yourself into his body.

You two are so wrapped up into each other that you don't even realize the elevator has stopped, the door opening slowly. 

Quinn pulls back, his lips swollen as he looks down at you. “How was that for something yn?” he says, dropping his gaze down to you. 

“I think i might need you to show me a bit more” you whisper

“Oh really?” he says as he slowly pulls you out of the elevator. 

“Mhm” you mumble to him

“Lead the way” he says, dropping his hand from you, waiting on your next move. 

You take a second to take him in natural light. Everything about him is intoxicating, you need more. No matter the cost, or how bad of an idea it could be. You don't care, not right now. Before you can give it a second thought, you're pulling him by his hand by your room. Your steps are quick, your body hot with need. 

Reaching your room quickly, dropping Quinn's hand, as you start searching for your key card, you feel Quinn's hot body against yours. His lips finding your neck and his hands back on your hips as he pulls you back against him. Your movements began to halter as he began to get lost in his touch. 

“Quinn..you have to get off me for 30 seconds so i can open the door” 

“Mhm. I know, but I'm getting impatient. I've wanted you all night.” he says against your neck, his warm breath sending chills down your body. 

“You wanna know what i've thought about and what i'm thinking about right now? Hm?” he asks 

“Yes, yes tell me” you gasp out, your hands trying to move quickly, still in search of the key. 

“How the dress would look on the floor, how your body would look against mine. How youd look all fucked out for me in my bed” he says, his lips tight to your ear. 

Just as he finishes his sentence, your hands grasp the key card in your purse. Pulling it out quickly, and tapping it against the door aggressively, pushing the door open as soon as it buzzes open. 

Quinn moves quickly, pushing you in slamming the door, and before you know it his lips are against yours as if they never left. You're quick to turn him around, your hands moving against the buttons on his shirt as he hits the bed, pulling you on top of him; your lips never once leaving each other. 

“You're dangerous” quinn says pulling away from your lips 

“Why's that?” you ask, your hands still working to unbutton his shirt. 

“I've barely had any of you, and i dont think ill ever get enough” he says looking at you

“Who said you ever have to stop, we’re just getting started” you say while unbuttoning the last button on his shirt before pushing it off his shoulders. 

Quinn responds with a look and a small smirk and you know what that means.

[leoruby-draws]

Been on a bit of a roll with posting my drawings lately, just getting rid of some backlog. Anyways, here's a funny doodle of the batkids bothering their big brother Nightwing on a date with Starfire. They're so annoying lmao.

Its kinda a sequel to this comic from way back. I say kinda because I meant to put with the comic itself but I was too lazy to do so. But I'm posting it now!

Speaking of that comic, I got an ask asking for a follow-up to it showcasing Dick and Starfire's kids getting some 'revenge' for them. Here's Mar'i (NightStar) and Jake Grayson popping in from the future! (btw I accidentally deleted the ask, feel bad esp considering how long it took to actually do art they wanted.)

They're all having so much fun! Look at little Jake, I actually wasn't sure if I should put him here since Mar'i is from Kingdom Come and Jake is from The New Order. Two different universes, the ask did ask for both of them so I did so. Also I forgot his eyes were green, aw well.

Speaking of Kingdom Come, I remember reading that in my middle school library along with some other DC/Batman comics. I was already a total weeb and loved manga so I decided to try out western comics too (since I did like the DCAU cartoons). Read them for a few weeks got bored, then picked up Akira and wouldn't read superhero comics again for more than a decade. Just weren't as easy to get into as manga, took some effort to try them again.

Anyways, here's an extra Mar'i as Nightstar:

I love her outfit, such a wonderful design. And its fun to play around with it too, its fun. But I'll probably take off those wings on her headband, they clutter the design I think. Gosh I love doing her hair its so fun.

Here's an extra Mar'i, with Jake included:

Would Mar'i be Robin as a kid? Or take on a different kid hero persona? How about Jake? Just played around with some costumes for them. Look at Jake clinging to Mar'i, think she'll be a good big sister?

Played around with Nightstar's outfit some more . Wanted to draw them longer so make it look like actual wings on her, and also like tassels on a performer's costumes.

Well this was fun to do, hope you like all this!

[igotanidea]

Not your fucking bussiness: Jason Todd x reader (club singer AU!)

***

„Where are you going?”

„Not your fucking business.”

„Oh! You are going to see her again, aren’t you?”

“Who?”

“Come on, Jay, don’t play dumb with me. You are going to see her!”

“And like I said it’s not your fucking business. Mind your own, Harper.”

This discussion was way beyond his level, therefore Jason just grabbed his jacket off the hanger and walked out the door.

“He is so going to go see her.” Roy crossed his arms, watching his friend leaving with a knowing smirk, nodding his head.

His little Jaybird was growing up so fast…

Two months earlier

They were tired beyond anything ever experienced before. Tired, stressed, barely walking more like dragging their feet on the ground, wanting nothing more but a shower and a bed. But – there’s always this kid in class who will ask the teacher for homework just before the end of the lesson. Or – in this case – the one Outlaw member who comes up with the idea of unwinding in the bar. 

“Come on, let’s grab some drinks, it’s been ages since we got wasted.” Roy insisted, clearly not bothered by the frowns and groans of the rest of the group.

“There’s a reason for that, Roy.” Artemis sighed, rubbing her temples “we’re too busy to-“

“We’re so busy we’re actually becoming boring.” Harper cut her off almost brutally.

“Hey! Who are you calling boring?!” The Amazon took a few steps towards the man with a fierce expression.

“When was the last time you looked in the mirror, Arti?”

“When I;m done with you I’ll—“

“Ok, okay, enough!” Kori stepped in between the two fighting friends before things escalated further “we’ve all had enough, there’s no need to add to it.”

“He’s such a jerk though!” Artemis hissed

“Yeah, sure. He and Jason both.”

“Hey!” This time Jason felt the need to intervene and object to the allegation.

“The only guy who’s actually nice in this group is Bizzaro-“ Kori continued, completely unbothered by Jason’s exclamation. 

“I’m bad.” Bizzaro grinned, clearly satisfied by the words coming from the Tamaranian.

“Yes, yes you are, big guy. So. I don’t know about you, Artemis, but I’d actually like to have a little bit of fun for a change. I think we deserve it.”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Jason exclaimed, clenching his fists. Seriously? Were those guys functioning in the same reality as him?!  Gotham was in constant danger, crime lords and criminals lurking in every corner and the Outlaws just decided to grab a drink and unwind?! The hell happened to his team?! They had so much on their heads and now – for some crazy reason – it felt like everyone was agreeing with everyone leaving his opinion as a leader of the team on the sideline.

And he did not like it.

“We are not going anywhere.” He hissed as if that was going to stop anyone.

“we are.” Roy grinned and Jason could sense the mischief in his eyes.

“we are—fuck! Put me down!”

Anyone who dared to look outside their window on that night would have been shocked to notice the infamous Outlaws casually walking the Gotham street with a very angered Red Hood being carried in the iron grip of Bizzarro, kicking and screaming like a five year old kid, very unhappy about such humiliation.

***

Obviously they could not just walk into the bar, dressed like their vigilantes self so the first stop was the nearest safe house, dealing with the quickest ever outfit change, patching up the most serious cuts and bruises. Only after dealing with all that, not even caring about looking presentable, the group walked down to finally grab the drink.

A plan that seemed to drag on forever.

Deep inside, Jason was hoping for a quiet night, praying that at this crazy night hour there wouldn’t be many people in that 24/7 club and he would be able to just snug in the dark corner sipping his drink and checking the surroundings for the possible threats.

And for once it seemed like his prayers were listened to.

As they entered the deserted place, eyes of the already drunk regulars landed on them, but one warning look from Jason made them stop wanting to cause any trouble.

“Oh!” Roy gasped, a little disappointed. “I was hoping that she would be here.”

“She?” Jason frowned

“You mean Y/N?” Kori smiled, “I think it’s past her shift.”

“It’s a shame though.” Artemis added “it’s been too long since we saw her-“

“We?” the frown on Jason’s face deepened. Suddenly he felt terribly left out. Who was this Y/N his friend was so clearly enamored with? And why did it feel like they were coming to see her without him?

As if adding fuel to the fire of his thoughts Bizzaro nodded.

“We no see her often.”

“Oh, right…” It seemed like his friends were leaving him behind and it hurt, but Jason would never admit it out loud, quickly covering his fears with a signature smirk and sarcastic attitude “Guess you’ll have to survive without whoever this girl is. I’ll go grab drinks, regular for you, folks?”

***

He already had enough, heading to the bar and ordering himself a beer, wondering if it would be rude to just take an Irish exit. His group, his friends just dispersed in the facility and to be honest, Jason has never felt more lonely. Sometimes it felt like this family he made for himself was just waiting for the moment to move on with their lives and leave him alone again. And the more he sipped his beverage, the more he worried that things would go back to the way they were. That he’d fall behind those people, who clearly had a way of finding their place in the society. Maybe they were only waiting for an opportunity to lose him.

And ironically, that thought made him want to hold on to his friends even tighter. Preventing him from leaving the club.

Jason shifted on his seat, turning towards the both his friends were occupying, his eyes scanning the place. The Outlaws might have shed the skin of the vigilantes turning into the normal humans, losing their usual vigilance, but he was not going to. If no one else, he was going to make sure those people he held dear (though if anyone asked, there would be very explicit denial and a fair amount of mean jokes on that) were safe.

For a time being, everything seemed secure, but it was Gotham after all. Things could change in a blink of an eye.

And Jason Todd was not known for letting his guard down easily.

Never.

He was always on the watch, careful, a little stand-offish.

And clearly he was right cause all of a sudden he heard the commotion coming from the side of the little club scene. His ears perked at the sound of man’s and woman’s voices, quickly catching up on the fact that he was trying to convince her to do something and she was objecting, though he could not figure out what they were talking about.

“Come on, Y/N- just this once. Just one more-“

“No way! I think I’ve had enough for one night!”

“Please… for me?”

“You want me to get a sore throat? I think I’ve already been taking in more than I can.”

Oh wow.

Jason blushed a little, wondering if maybe that was the time to stop listening to the conversation. 

“Please, Y/N, come on… there are still people here and they’d love a performance…”

Okay.

Now was clearly the time to stop listening to the conversation.

And possibly to leave the place, cause it seemed like his friends just dragged him into a den that was way beyond his comfort zone.

He sighed deeply and joined his friends in the booth ready to force some reason in their heads.

“Okay, people listen up, as a leader of this team-“ he started, meeting with facial expressions ranging from amusement (Artemis) through disbelief (Bizarro) and leniency (Kori) to the open mockery (Roy).

“Not tonight, Jason.”

“Okay, you know what, by all means you stay and have fun but I’m leaving and—” he started again, hoping that his so-called friends would ask him to stay and fight a little.

“Hey, is that Y/N?” Instead, everyone’s heads snapped to the direction of the stage and then a bright smile showed on their faces as they clearly noticed a girl who was far more entertaining than Jason at the moment.

“Y/N! Hi!” Kori waved her hand at the girl “would you give us one?”

For the first time in a long, long time, Jason felt defeated, slumping onto the seat, sipping his drink, not even caring to look into the direction of the stage. He didn’t care.

“Hey Jaybird, look up or you might miss something nice to your sore eyes.”

Huh.

The hell?

Oh…

Oh shit…

Why was his heart picking up the pace and beating out of his chest?

 “Yep, that’s her. And you’re blushing.” Roy chuckled and sipped his drink.

To be completely honest, Jason did not even hear whatever words were coming out of Roy's mouth. She stole all his attention. Making his mind go blank and his ear deaf and his eyes focused only on her. But even in his hazy state he managed to connect the dots, figuring out that the girl he overheard talking was the one his friends were referring to. So maybe they knew her? Was there any chance that they could acquaint him with her? But—this was the girl talking about taking things in and sore throat so what exactly was her job here? Was she a-

No.

No, no, no.

She looked so beautiful, innocent and sympathetic. Alluring but not in the way that would cause any suspicions about her profession. Not that the profession itself was something bad, but this was definitely not Y/N.

Shit, he was blushing hard and knew it, cause the heat he felt was enough of an indication.

“Jason?”

“Hey, Todd, come back to earth.”

“I think he just short circuited!”

The mocking and teasing voices of his friends finally reached his ears, shaking him off his reverie.

“Oh, shut up…” he muttered, trying to control his pounding heart and shaking hands.

“You know I’ve never really seen you like that. Ever.”

“Shut up, Harper.”

“Nah, I don’t think I will. The fact that you are being so affected makes it all even funnier.”

“Come on, Roy. Give poor Jason a break.” Kori laughed. “Our fella here seems to be falling and he hasn't even heard her sing yet.”

“Sing?” Jason raised his head, trying to process the new information and fit it into the puzzle.

“Yeah, sing. She’s a singer here. Wait – what did you think she was doing?”

“Nothing…” he hissed, looking down, not liking the fact he was the source of entertainment and a subject of jokes of his friends.

“Me don’t have an idea” Bizzaro smiled brightly and stood up from behind the table, almost knocking all the drinks down. “Me not going to ask her to sing.”

Before anyone could stop him (not that anyone actually tried) Bizzaro trotted to the scene exchanging a few words with Y/N, pointing at Jason, who wished he had his helmet on to hide himself. No one in their sound mind would point a finger at him when in his Red hood suit. But at the moment he was just a regular guy, unable to fight his real, a little shy and too sensitive nature showing. And also trying his best to not look in her direction.

Due to his hiding state, he missed Y/N lightening up, nodding at Bizzaro, saying something with a cheerful nod and climbing up the scene, fixing her microphone.

“Uh-huh. Looks like she’s about to sing after all. Bizzaro definitely has a talent for convincing people. And Y/n seems to like our little Superman -clone.” Artemis teased, playing on the strings of Jason shaking heart.

He wanted so bad to tell her something harsh and mean, but the melody and quickly following voice made it impossible.

His head snapped towards the scene, watching her.

Definitely in her element.

Shining like a star (no offense to Starfire), feeling the song, putting emotions into the words that otherwise would sound empty and without meaning. But sung by her? Somehow, Jason found himself in a completely different reality, where threats and strategic thinking had like zero meaning. All that mattered was watching her every move. And oh- how much he wanted to just stand up and walk to the stage, seeing her from the close up, instead of being forced to keep his distance, sitting in the booth. (though to be completely honest, even if he tried to walk his shaking legs would probably give up under him).

He was in trouble.

And his friends knew it too.

***

He needed to see her again.

And again and again and again.

Needed to meet her, to get to know her beyond that stage.

He wanted to be able to see her walking on the stage and think that this was his girl being a star.

To assure that whatever men were cheering for her by the stage, offering her drinks and sending her flowers she would only have eyes for him.

Those pretty e/c eyes that crossed with him that fateful night when Outlaws dragged him to the club.

He hated and loved them at the same time.

Because now he turned into a putty and was on his best way to become an alcoholic, using having drinks as an excuse to see her over and over and over. Cursing himself for not having enough guts to just talk to her, settling on watching her from the back of the club like a creep, probably scaring her off.

He had no chance with someone like her.

Not with his scars and baggage and stuff. And his other life. No way. This would only bring her trouble and danger and it was safer to stay in the shadows letting her shine.

But the more he attended her performances – be it on the previously arranged club shows or the quiet nights when she was singing only to the few half-drunk regulars and just for the fun of it – his heart ached for more.

“Where are you going, Jason?”

“Let me guess you are going to the club again?”

“Seems to me like you’re turning into a real party animal.”

‘You don’t like Y/N.”  

Teasing remarks were haunting him for the last two months and at some point Jason decided it was taking too much energy to keep pretending. Every time he was leaving somewhere Roy, Kori, Artemis and Bizzaro seemed to know.

So instead of explaining himself or telling them to leave him alone, he was just grabbing his jacket and leaving without any word. Making sure to only come back when everyone was asleep so he could lay in his bed in the silence and dream.

Dream of holding her hand, of holding her, of forming a real, genuine connection.

But it was just that. A dream. Some crazy fantasy that would never come true for him, no matter how much he was praying for it.

***

“Hi.”

She was standing next to him, extending her hand, and for a second he couldn’t comprehend what she wanted him to do with the fact.

“I’m Y/N.”

“I know.” He only managed to stutter.

“Oh I know you know. You’ve been coming here for the last two months, night by night. One would think you’d learn my name by now.”

“Yeah… um…”

“I’d like to learn your name though. Cause I for sure know you are friends with Biz, but not much more than that.”

“My – my name?”

“Yeah, you know, the title you’re being called on a daily basis?” she chuckled and her laugh sounded equally beautiful as her singing. “Wait, no, let me guess – is it Thomas? Or maybe Todd?”

Jason laughed despite himself.

“What? Did I guess?”

“Not the first name. Todd is actually my second name. Jason is first.”

“Nice to meet you, Jason.” She reached for his hand herself and in any other case he would just avoid physical contact at any cost. But it was different with her.

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N.”

He wanted to say so many things to her. How he liked her singing and how she made his nights magical and how pretty she was and all that mushy, touchy-feely stuff that she probably heard a million times before. Words however never came easy to him, instead sticking to his throat causing him to grunt awkwardly, mentally slapping himself for letting the silence prolong. He could almost feel her slipping from his grasp and losing the one in a million chance.

“Would you like to grab a very early breakfast with me?” he blurted, not really believing what the hell just came out of his mouth, already preparing himself for a hard no. 

“Yes! Thank god!” she looked towards the sky, putting her hands together as if to prayer. She was funny and he already liked it. “Finally someone smart enough to realize that after spending the entire day and half of the night in the bar, I’m not prone to having drinks. I’d love to grab something to eat. I’m starving.”

“A girl with an appetite?” Jason teased, feeling his heart flutter, the tension melting away.

“Yeah, I know, it looks bad, but sorry not sorry, I won’t be eating salad just to pretend to be someone I’m not. How about we grab burgers?”

It seemed like Jason was on the highway to falling in love.

***

The little diner was completely empty, giving them a perfect opportunity to talk and joke and tease and banter and bicker without hushing or judgment.

It turned out that they had a similar sense of humor and fairly similar interests.

Exchanging thoughts on books and their adaptations, talking about dreams and wishes and reflecting on deep stuff has never been this nice to Jason. It felt like he knew this girl for years, finding a kindred spirit in this h/c firecracker.

So only when the first rays of sunshine showed on the horizon and they were practically kicked out of the place, they left their seats going out being hit with the cold morning air. And when she shivered from the chill Jason did the unthinkable, reaching to pull her to his side and running hand up and down her spine to warm her.

And damn, it worked for both of them.

And damn she did not pull back.

And damn when he walked her home, to the door, and they just stood there for what seemed like eternity, like two awkward teenagers not sure what to do with the newfound, deep-level connection.

“So-“

“So-“

“You first.”

“No, no, please, you go first.”

“Um… Can I see you again?”

“Sure! I mean – “ she collected herself quickly “I hope you’ll come to my next performance.”

“Of course, but I was thinking that – um… maybe we can grab early breakfast again? Or – very late dinner, depending on the end of your work?”

“Very late dinner sounds nice…” she smiled at the ground, avoiding his eyes.

“Really!?”

“Yeah… I mean, I told you I always get hungry after a performance. So dinner always sounds nice and – and a nice company would be an added value…”

“So I’m an added value, Y/N?” he asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the slight trembling of his voice due to the emotions.

“I did not say it!” she leaned to kiss his cheek, her lips lingering on his skin for a little longer than necessary. “Now go, before I call the police because I got a strange man harassing me in front of my house!”

***

He sneaked into the house, stepping on his tiptoes to avoid waking up any other member of the team.

Laying head on the soft pillow, ready to start dreaming again, but this time a little more reality-based fantasy –

“Hey Jason, where have you been?” Roy grinned peeking through the door.

“None of your fucking business” Jason grinned back, happier than ever.

***

my dear @ladychibirae! - thank you for this requests, I really hope you like it, cause I sure enjoyed writing it. I just sat down and before I realised, there was a 10 pages story in my docs. honestly, it's been a while since I wrote something so long <3

[m3vl0vesu]

𝑨 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅

..............................................................................................................................

He didn’t smile. 

.

.

That was one thing you noticed about the only other kid in the classroom, one of the many Wayne kids.

 And apparently the only biological one, not that you cared really. His family was none of your business, you should really be more concerned about your own to be honest…never mind. You closed your eyes and sighed, catching the attention of the boy, who was now sitting in your chair. Well it wasn’t yours but it was yours. He watched as  you adjusted the pile of sketching paper slightly to the right, making sure they were all aligned perfectly. He watched you watching the boxes full of dis-arranged paint tubes and bottles, he saw the way your hand twitched at the scene. Weird. 

.

.

It was a Thursday afternoon and every Thursday, after last period,  you would head towards the art room upstairs. It was the only club you ever joined. You got to know everyone there and some even became your friends. But even after the club ended you’d still linger in the room. Even after you'd cleaned up your (and other people’s) mess, and you had put the pencils away, and you had cleaned the paint pots, you lingered. It had become a habit, you enjoyed the quietness. You enjoyed that the only noise you could hear was your breathing. What you didn’t enjoy was that the ‘new’ kid also liked staying behind. 

Ruining one of the only times your mind was quiet…or quieter than usual. I mean it’s not like he was loud or anything no-it was just his presence, you wanted to be alone-no. Needed do be alone. But what can you do? He liked art. He was damn good at it too. 

So there really was no point in being annoyed, just suck it up and deal with it. Like you always do. Why do you always do that? After another sigh, you swing your bag over your shoulder and walk out. You didn’t mean to slam the door, honestly there was no reason for you to be angry, Damian didn’t do anything wrong. Damian. Damian. Ugh. Why was his name also annoying? . . . As you turn the corner you stop abruptly. Looking up you meet the eyes of your Art teacher, Miss Williams, she looked down with an eyebrow raised. You smiled. You really did adore her and her loving nature, she was like a big mama bear. Gotham didn’t deserve her. She was so…her.

 Every other day she had some new fun way to do her hair, today her afro was star-shaped. Fitting. You smile softer, the sound of her voice saying your name pulling you out of your trance. “You're leaving earlier than usual” she states, almost concerned, “is something wrong?” You just shake your head, leaving after a simple goodbye

.

.

.

The bus was almost empty. Your eyes stared at Gotham Academy until it was out of sight. It was a big school, you hated it. 

Hated the rumour-filled halls, the rude pompous pricks that roamed the halls, hated that you were on a scholarship for so therefore could not escape it. And you especially hated how proud your mother looked whenever she saw you in the uniform. As the bus continued to drive you watched the big mansions and penthouses turn into dirty streets and run-down apartments. It was a big difference. Messy, dirty, bloody…home. Your eyes spotted the way the bus driver’s lips tugged upwards as you gave him a small thank you. It was probably the only nice words he heard today, it was probably the only nice words you said today. The worn-out soles of your shoes hit the ground and you begin walking, just a few minutes away from home. Each leaf you stepped on getting more darker than the last, it was almost winter. That meant that after school clubs would be closed. Barely even any schools even have after school clubs in the area, since it’s Gotham. .

.

. After a call with your mother you slowed down, not really wanting to go home. It was quiet on the streets. Oh wait. 

Now it wasn’t. There was shouting, it sounded like two-or more-male voices. You see, there's a rule when you walk the Gotham streets. Do not, whatever you do, look. Just keep walking. And you do. Don’t look. Keep walking. 

Don’t look. Keep walking. 

Don’t look. Keep walking.

Don’t look. Keep walkin- . . . After the very obvious gunshot you heard a distant thud. 

Your feet stopped and your knees felt weak, bile rising in your throat as you stared wide eyes at the pavement in front of you. Don’t look. 

You beg yourself not to turn around. 

So you close your eyes, and beg yourself not to open them. . . . Small arms wrap around you as you lay in bed, your sister mumbling about something going on with her friends. The rest of your journey home was a blur, all you know is that you will not be going school tomorrow. Even if that means lying to your parents. . . .

..............................................................................................................................

>>>>Pt.II

A/N: This is going to be a story based fic with some dark themes. Feel free to click off if any of it disturbs you in any way. I know there wasn’t much Damian in this but there will be more in pt 2! I always try to keep Reader as ambiguous as possible, this is a f!reader fic but you can read no matter what gender! :D Reblogs are always loved and as always Mev loves you!!

[rookiebe]

AU where Nimna is able to have kids but dies in the process. They can't exist at the same time, but I think Altan is cute anyway :')

[bluecollarmcandtf]

M O O N L I G H T ™

Chapter III

It's late, and the last thing I expect to find at my nightly workout is my little bro, dressed up like a personal trainer. He looks ridiculous in that cheesy uniform, not to mention the light pouring out of his skull and the smile stamped into his face! I guess the little idiot signed up for Moonlight™: that was one helluva mistake!

"Good evening, sir," my brother speaks as if we hadn't grown up together, "Is there any way I can aid your fitness journey tonight?"

Hearing Ryan call me 'sir' brings a devious grin to my own face. I've bullied this kid for years, and now he's kissing my ass like well-trained puppy. Thanks to Moonlight™, my annoying little bro is just a mind controlled employee who doesn't realize his brother's here, let alone embarrassing him! I wish I could get my entire family implanted with these little Moonlight™ things. Messing with them would be hilarious!

"Oh yeah," I sneer, "And what's string bean gonna do for a guy like me?"

"Well, sir, as a personal trainer here at Planet Fitness, I'll gladly demonstrate how to use the machines, spot patrons with heavy-lifting, and return equipment when finished."

God, he sounds even more annoying than usual! "You really think a someone like you could spot me?" I scoff and bring my bicep to his face, flexing it inches away from his perpetually open eyes.

"Actually, sir, this body can lift 260 lbs on the bench press without injury. The load you have is well-enough below to ensure that I may be of service. Still sir, the weight you're lifting is a very respectable amount," Ryan's smile beamed at me, but mine fell.

"Whatever, I'll be fine," I retort, "Just stand over there and mop up my sweat when I'm done."

"Yes, sir."

My little brother takes a step back as I get ready to lift. As stupid as he looks, standing there waiting on me to finish, he also looks pretty fit. His company polo might be sweaty and gross, but it's tight against his improving physique. He's clearly been lifting a lot while he's been working here, but his gains should not count if Moonlight™ is the one actually working out that pathetic little body! The only way he could bulk up was by becoming a fucking puppet! Talk about sad!

"Fuck!" I grunt, tossing the barbell back as I finish. I did a few extra sets to prove a point and now my arms are on fire. "Towel!" I snap.

"Yes, sir," Ryan rushes over and wipes the sweat off my brow. I just laugh in his face.

"I think I got some sweat on my sneakers too," I jab, "You can wipe them off and then put twenty more pounds on the bar."

"Of course, sir."

My brother gets on his knees with the towel, giving my sneakers a cursory buff. I don't know what personal trainer has shoe-shining in his job description, but I've heard these Moonlight™ employees can be pretty pliant. Apparently, you can make them do quite a bit with the loopholes in their programming. Maybe I can get Ryan here to do something even more embarrassing than polishing his big bro's shoes!

The next week, I worked out every night.

Turns out, bullying my little bro was great motivation to go to the gym! When I saw him during the day, I never mentioned the fact that I knew; didn't want to scare him off. At night, I had every opportunity to take out my frustrations on him. If he pissed me off during the day, I could boss him around at the gym, ordering him to follow me around and wipe down every piece of equipment. I could call him whatever names I wanted and yell at him as loudly as I pleased; he had to just stand there with the best customer service smile and say "yes, sir."

Playing around with Ryan was fun, but it wasn't until I went out for a drink that I ran into my second brother. I guess he had the same idea to get hired with Moonlight™...

"Can I fix you a drink, sir?" my brother, the middle child, yells over the club's EDM.

"What the hell?" I shout, "Ryan's dumb enough to Moonlight™, but I didn't think you were!"

Sam just stares back with the same flashlight eyes and widely stretched lips. Of course his programming won't let him do anything outside of bartending! He's probably not even conscious in there! Ryan was always a bit of an impulsive twerp, so I wasn't surprised to see him Moonlighting™, but Sam is different. He'd said he'd never put his body to work at night. Something about the behavior of Moonlighters™ always rubbed him the wrong way...I guess he changed his mind.

"A round of beers," I tell him, warily gesturing to the back corner, "For me and our crew."

Sam's glowing stare looks over my shoulder and sees our friends, the guys we both hang out with, "Yes, sir. I'll have it right out for you."

I return to our pals, anxious for my brother to follow. Sam is only a year younger than myself, so we run around with the same crowd, yet he didn't recognize any of our buds. Now he's about to serve them like a fucking waiter. My catatonic brother is about to walk into the most humiliating situation of his life. I just get to sit back and watch!

"Sam?" one of them asks a moment later.

"Here are your beers, sir," my brother plucks the bottles off his tray and sets them out for each of his friends, completely oblivious to their stunned reactions, "Is there anything else I can get any of you?"

"Holy crap, dude!" another pal turns to me, "Since when did your brother start Moonlight? He looks like a total idiot!"

Sam doesn't seem to register the insult.

"I don't know man," I laugh, "Tonight, I guess."

"Fetch us some napkins," one guy quips with an amused flick of his hand.

"Right away, sir." Sam answers a little too promptly, and whisks away.

"Right away, sir, Ha!" the guy repeats with a mock salute, "We've gotta mess with him!"

Sam returns, obediently passing out napkins, but I'm finding it harder to meet his gaze while he's grinning so manically. This situation is starting to feel more awkward than hilarious. These guys will never let him live this down!

"Sam, get over here and give this paying customer a sloppy BJ!"

My brother stiffens, and for a second a jolt of fear runs down my spine, terrified that Moonlight™ will actually make him comply. Pranks are all good and fun, but I do not want to see my brother about to blow another dude!

"I apologize, sir," he finally resumes, "That is not part of my responsibilities as bartender."

Thank God.

"Then get something to clean this up," he laughs wildly, "You spilled my beer!" Our friend then pours half his drink on the crotch of his jeans, staring at Sam with the amused eyes of a drunk fool. This guy always gets weird after a few drinks. I don't know why we still bring him along. Normally, we just ignore him.

"Of course, sir," Sam answers attentively.

For the next ten minutes, I sit in silent horror as my brother returns with a rag, proceeding to get on his knees and wipe down another man's crotch with painful dedication. Of course, our friends are all howling with laughter at this point, taking video evidence that they can embarrass Sam with later.

It feels like a lifetime, but Sam finally stands up, "I hope I cleaned that up well enough for you, sir."

The guy feels at his wet jeans, saying, "I don't know if that's good enough, bitch."

"I'm sorry, sir, let me try ag-"

"No! It's my turn," someone else cuts in, pushing his way to the front, "You spilled some on my ass that needs cleaned up!"

The gang loses it, doubling over with laughter as Sam prepares to spend the next ten minutes wiping down another guy's ass, but I've had enough, "No! We're done here, thank you. Go close our tab," I bark.

"Yes, sir," Sam turns on his heel. His dumb obedience is more disturbing than entertaining at this point.

Our friends all give me a hard time for sending him away, but I'm not having it. Maybe I'm not drunk enough, but they're enjoying this a lot more than I am. At this point, I'm ready to call it a night and go home, so I say my goodbyes and head for the exit.

The walk home isn't a far one, but I pass a few notable places on the way: one being my dad's dark office building. Our old man has been working late nights there lately. In the dimly lit lobby, I recognize someone...

"Dad?" I gasp.

"Good evening, sir," my father says to me without any note of familiarity in his voice.

"Wait, you're moonlighting too?" it comes out as more of an accusation, but at this point I'm fed up with finding family members secretly working random mind-controlled night jobs.

"I am a security guard employed through the Moonlight™ corporation," his gravelly voice sounds foreign, delivering these programmed prompts, "If you'd like, sir, I can help you apply for a Moonlight™ position, and you can start making the most of your sleeping hours too!"

"Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea, dad?" I ask, knowing this stupid security guard persona isn't capable of answering.

"He didn't."

The voice of someone else in the room sends shivers down my spine. I whip around, and see a gangly, middle-aged man stepping forward.

"Jeff?"

"Hi, Jamie," my uncle says, sauntering up to his far taller brother and resting an arm on his shoulder. My dad's attentive posture doesn't waver. He just keeps on acting like the perfect sentry for the building and the perfect armrest for his brother.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on!?"

He sniffles and sighs like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "Yes, I suppose this charade of mine was doomed to be found out sooner or later. I put your father in the Moonlight™ database. He was just wasting his sleeping hours at home in his bed, and he'd always refuse to let me sign him up, so I did it in secret. He makes a great guard. Right Tom?"

Uncle Jeff claps my dad on the back, prompting him to announce a proud, "Yes, sir!"

"See," my uncle turns back to me, "No harm done. Your old man gets paid to stand around in his sleep. Its harmless!"

"But he doesn't know!" I yell, seething at my uncle's sheer abuse of his place in the company, "This has to be illegal, and are you just pocketing Dad, Ryan, and Sam's salaries?"

He rolls his eyes, "I am right now, but the four of you don't even make that much."

"Did you just say the four of us?" I grunt.

"Oops," he holds a hand to his forehead and curses under his breath.

"AM I FUCKING MOONLIGHTING WHILE I SLEEP TOO?" I am screaming at this point, "You're fucked up!" I bark. Angrily, I stomp towards my uncle, but my father takes a firm step planting himself between me and the man. His steady palm is holding the baton at his belt, making me nervous. Is my dad about to beat me up for this creep?

"Excuse me, sir," my dad smiles at my uncle, "Would you like me to escort this man out of the building?"

"That won't be necessary," my uncle says, "I'll just trigger his Moonlight™ shift to start now. You can go back to standing in the corner"

"Yes, sir," my security guard father answers placidly, returning to his attentive stance.

"You wouldn't," I snarl.

"Oh, trust me, I will. As I understand it, overriding a subject's body while awake means you'll be fully conscious. I'll work on something to make you forget this whole incident later."

He presses a few buttons on an ipad, and suddenly my vision is engulfed in a purple haze. My back straightens, my muscles relax, and I feel my face contorts into a giant smile. Suddenly, my entire body seems to be gone from my grasp, and I'm constrained to a tiny space in my head while something else takes over.

"Enjoy your shift," my uncle snickers with a glare.

"Thank you, sir. I will," I feel my voice pushed out of my throat with an excited tone that isn't mine. Before I know it, my legs are carrying me away from my uncle, leaving him with my father, to march down the dark street...

"Here's your order, sir," my voice has the trademarked Moonlight™ eagerness in it as I reach out the window and hand over the meal.

"Fuck off, sleep-freak!" the teen in the driver's seat flips me off, making his immature friends cackle as they speed off. I can't do anything but smile and watch as they weave away. They have no idea I'm actually conscious in here.

After being forced to leave my uncle, I found myself striding into a fast food restaurant through its backdoor. I could instantly tell the place wasnt anywhere I'd eat at because the dumpster smelled like soggy fries and old meat. The kitchen was a fluorescent-lit pit, with a thick feeling of oil hanging in the air. I could barely take in the surroundings before I was changing out of my clothes by some lockers. I was horrified that Moonlight™ was making me fucking strip, but before long my hands were pulling on new clothes: a uniform. The polo felt like it'd been sitting at the bottom of the locker since the last shift, drying in sweat, and the pants were sticky with something unidentifiable. I was mortified to be pulling on a fucking hairnet and apron, but I had no choice.

"Blondie's here early," a smoker's voice purred from behind me. I had a bad feeling he'd been standing there for a while, watching.

"Hello boss," my voice answers, apparently recognizing the overweight, unshaved creep, "I'm ready to start my shift, sir! Where am I needed today?"

I watched as the man licked his stubbly lips, his beady eyes crawling all over me. Without any shame, his sweaty palm groped the growing bulge in his khakis. He was obviously happy to see me, and he probably thought I couldn't actually see him! I guess, every fucking night that my uncle's made me work in my sleep, I've been under the supervision of THIS pervert!?

"Get to the fryer," his scratchy throat moaned, "You know I want you to get nice and sweaty for later."

"Yes, sir. I'll be sure to work up a sweat for you," I answer, confused and disturbed by my response. The cheer in my voice did not match the overwhelming gloom I felt when the man slapped my ass. His hand lingered on my rear for too long, but I couldn't even frown.

Since then, I've been boiling fries and flipping burgers. Every so often I have to hand an order out the window, but my heart races every time I do. Three orders ago, the customer threw their soda back at my coworker, he's a fairly average guy in his thirties, and he was dowsed in Coca-Cola. It didn't keep Moonlight™'s programming from working: he just kept manning the grill, smiling, eyes glowing, and hair dripping with cherry flavored juice.

"Ouch!" at least, that's what I want to say. The oil sizzles and pops, and a few drops of hot grease splatter onto my arm, but I don’t flinch. The control won’t let me.

Suddenly I feel someone leaning in behind me. My spine shivers as my manager says, "It's closing time, Blondie. I'll send everyone home so you and I can clean up like usual." He whispers it in my ear, with his flabby arms wrapped around me like we're fucking lovers! I wish I could vomit!

"Sounds good, boss," I find myself saying.

One by one, the manager dismisses each of my moonlighting coworkers. I can't help but feel jealous as they strip out of their uniforms by the door. It isn't just that they get to leave; they also have the luxury of not knowing what's going on. They're all asleep. I'd give anything to at least be unaware of whatever this fucking pervert is about to do!

My body is preoccupied with whatever shit needs to be done for closing, wiping down the tables, taking out the trash, and more.

"Mop time," the manager suddenly announces, holding the raggedy thing out expectantly.

"Yes, sir," my voice answers, and I drop what I'm doing to accept the mop. The crotch of his pants is unzipped, but my bodies already turned away from him, turning all my attention to swab the tiles floor.

"You're doing it wrong again, Blondie," he purrs slowly, "I'm gonna have to help you like usual."

"Thank you, sir," my voice sounds grateful, but I am anything but. The pervert presses his rotund body against my back and holds my muscular arms with his own chubby ones. I can feel his penis poking into me below his gut, but my body accepts his touch like he's just a boss helping out an employee.

I guess this asshole found a loophole in Moonlight™'s fucking programming. He's going to touch me all he wants under the guise of demonstrating the right way to mop.

The creep spends the next ten minutes guiding my arms back and forth. "Fuck, you're bubble butt feels even better than usual, Blondie," he breathes in my ear. If I had control of my muscles, he wouldn't stand a chance, but right now, they're putty in my boss's arms. Meanwhile, his waist gets busy dry humping his chode into my rear end. "I'm so glad a jock like you was dumb enough to try Moonlight!" he grunts, his tongue dangerously close to my ear. I can only thank God that he can't take my pants off! After several painful minutes of him spitting more disgusting comments onto my cheek, his arms drop mine and plant themselves on my chest. His hands sloppily grope my pecs and pinch my nipples. I've never felt more pathetic. The man makes one final exclamation, "FUUUCK!" and I can tell he has finally gotten off.

"Thanks for the help, boss," I find myself saying.

With heavy breaths, he staggers back. The sudden open air on my back makes me realize just how hot and sweaty that slob was, and I can feel the slimy remnants of his balls slipping down my back and legs.

"Good job as always, Blondie," he breathes heavily with satisfaction.

"Thank you, sir," I answer. My voice hasn't lost its awful chipper quality, and my face is still stuck in a smile like I hadn't just been taken advantage of.

"Finish mopping up, and then you can lock up and clock out," he winks as if we shared some inside joke. I hate that all he sees is my smile.

"Yes, sir," I answer, but the creep has already waddled out of the building and slammed the door shut.

The sudden silence is unbearable. It makes the monotonous task of mopping the sticky floors all the more unpleasant. What's worse is that I can't pause to wash the manager's cum off my back. It soaks into my pants as I work, trapped in my own body. At least I know why these pants are so sticky. Honestly, I hope Uncle Jeff will wipe my memory...

[weird-an]

"How did you know you were gay?" Wilson says when she brings her a veggie wrap and a bag of chips.

House perks up in her seat, nearly dropping the wrap. "What?"

She wonders if it's Christmas already. Did Wilson finally stumble across the word "comphet"? Around two divorces later than expected?

Wilson rolls her eyes, but she's blushing a little. Interesting. "You've heard that correctly."

"When I fingerbanged my bestie in High School. Sleepovers were fun and very wet," House offers a hint of the truth, enjoying Wilson blinking and muttering "Jesus" under her breath. "Why?"

"Your best friend?" Wilson asks, choking a little.

She didn't have one before Wilson. House was a lonely kid and a fucked up teenager.

"Are you jealous?" she teases - just to be a pain in the ass. "Don't evade the question, Jamie. Why?"

"I'm not, I mean- I'm your best friend," Wilson can't seem to get the sentence out.

This is fun.

"Do you want me to finger bang you?" House asks. "Wanna give pussy a try?"

Honestly. She dreamt about it so often, she could pull off a whole show. If she's burdened with introducing Wilson to homosexual pleasures, she'd to it. For the country, science or whatever.

"No, I tried that," Wilson says, very much annoyed.

- House gapes at her.

"I didn't," Wilson admits after a heartbeat. "It's just nice to rile you up."

Only Wilson can do that. This is why House wants to stay with her forever. Therefore, she says: "Bitch."

"I'd… like to try it though." Wilson bites her lips. House wants to bite them, too.

"Buy me dinner first."

"I'm always payin'."

"I'll pay you back in orgasms."

"Deal."