#Anyways they meet Danny at the bar

[ferrstappen]

max, the wag (for the third time) l Max Verstappen x reader

a/n: i was in the middle of writing this when news of Danny coming back to the grid!!! omg I'm so happy of seeing RIC and listening to his radios and everything, it wasn't the same without him <3

also, about requests. Please keep sending them, I've LOVED all the reqs I've gotten but right now im getting ready for my bar exam in a couple of weeks so my time is super super limited, but I promise I'll get to most of them (bc imsorry there are some reqs that I really can't connect with) after the exam, it's one of the things I'm looking forward to <3 but for now this kind of mediocre story telling will have to do...

ANYWAY, HOPE YOU LIKE THIS INSTALLMENT! you can find part 1 and 2 on the master list <3

summary: the continuation of your favorite paddock couple.

Max arrived to the track by himself.

If he was being honest, it wasn’t on his plans to walk alone with the photographers, Red Bull marketing team snatching him for stuff right after he swapped his credential. Even from far away he was able to hear chants of fans and more media than usual. 

But you weren’t right there next to him. 

He knew it wasn’t your fault, Silverstone not being a track where he was usually welcomed with opened arms and he was aware of you not wanting to be too in the eye of photographers who didn’t make questions to you, but there still were different WAGs and outfits or whatever accounts tracking your every step, especially with the new wave of partners and sudden break ups and polemics. 

Still, the selfish part of him wanted you to enter the track with him, even if it was a few steps ahead or behind him, holding your hand and smiling as you complained about the amount of credentials you had to carry: the usual green VIP Paddock, Red Bull something. You’d think after all these years they’d know me, you’d say and he’d laugh.

On the other hand, you finished getting ready and called the front desk to get a taxi to get there, feeling a bit guilty of letting Max go on his own, especially when there were more eyes on the track with Brad Pitt being there and a lot of important people who’d want to talk with him all day. 

Texting Max to let him know you were already by the guests entrance waiting when you noticed some intense flashes getting near. You’d been around a time or two to know this wasn’t usual, maybe in Miami but not when you were on the abandoned back entrance, not very glamorous and low key. 

But you saw her…

Shakira, are you visiting Lewis?

Who are you cheering today?

Shakira, third Grand Prix of the year! 

Did you talk to Lewis before? Is he nervous?

Your eyes followed her, mouth opening when you followed her small frame, exuding class and sympathy, even Alexandra who was also making her entrance stopped to get a closer look of the Colombian bombshell. 

Of course, they didn’t ask her to show and get accredited, she just walked by with a radiant smile leaving paparazzi behind as she kept talking with the friend she came with. 

But wasn’t that a Haas credential?

It didn’t matter, it wasn’t important, because right then your brain made the connections and started dialing Max while nervously biting your polished nails. 

“Baby, everything okay? Are you already inside?” Max answered, but his words were quiet and rushed. 

“Yes, but you’re never going to believe…”

“I’m sorry we have a meeting, please don’t go to the paddock, go straight to the driver’s lounge, okay? Love you” 

He hung up and you wanted to pull your hair out, knowing he is the one and only person you wanted to share this information with, and you were also certain he was the only person who would truly appreciate the gossip and speculation about his fellow driver’s love life. 

Max was able to leave the meeting almost forty minutes later, getting outside for some air until he remembered your call and that you probably were bored to death on the lounge. He was turning around to go there when…

When he saw the one and only Shakira in all of her glory. 

He wasn’t starstruck or anything, being immune to celebrities and the imaginary pedestal where most people placed them, but this wasn’t about that, it was about the way she was supposedly hiding under a cap walking towards the Mercedes garage.

He covered his mouth and hastily made his way to you. 

You didn’t greet each other with the usual peck on the lips and short hug; his slightly widened blue eyes told you exactly what you needed to know as he opened the door to his small room. 

“Please tell me that you saw her!” You said as soon as he closed the door. 

“Yes, just now she was walking to Mercedes,” Max was whisper shouting as if someone would hear him and it was the highest of secrets. 

“Did you see Lewis?” You asked Max but he said no. “What if you try to ask Brad Pitt if he saw her and like if they’re friends… with Shakira?” This time both you and your boyfriend laughed at the idea.

"I did see Sainz trying to go unnoticed with a tall brunette,do you think she is the new girlfriend?" Max asked and you nodded.

"I'm pretty sure he cheated on Isa with her, and I am almost certain she was in the Paddock Club in Monaco during qualifying," Max whistled at the new information.

Now he kissed you, lips fitting perfectly against each other, but your eyes suddenly opened and separated from him. What? Why? What happened? Max was disconcerted. 

“Please don’t laugh at me because this is a serious idea…” You told Max who had your entire attention. “What if we write to Deuxmoi?”

“Deux what?”

“They have all the inside scoops  and sightings, even your name’s popped up once or twice,” Max’s eyebrows rose at the information. “We should write that Shakira was seen on the British Grand Prix and I am one hundred percent sure someone will have more information!” You proposed and Max chuckled.

“Schatz, I can just ask Lewis why she’s here,” Max told you before embracing you, his arms circled around your waist.

You rolled your eyes before resting your head on his chest, but suddenly it hit you, swiftly lifting your head and facing Max. 

“Then why haven’t you asked him yet?!”

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt # 12: Wanna Help Me Win a Bet?

So our scene opens with an older team Phantom (Everlasting trio, Jazz, Val, and Dani) at a bar/club of some sort in New York. They're all catching up on how their lives are going (college, work, internships, milestones, travels, wacky happenings, etc.). Somehow the topic shifts to romantic relationships and the gang begins ribbing Danny for his awkward teen romances. He was an absolute disaster at flirting even if his exes found it charming at the time. It's all good-natured and fun.

Then Danny's like "Hey well least I've improved now" which earns him an eyebrow raise or two. The gang goes "Oh yeah? Prove it. Bet you 100 bucks you can't get that person's number" *points to an attractive black-haired individual sitting at the bar*. And of course, since Danny isn't one to back down from a bet and has his pride to defend he goes off to flirt with a stranger.

On the flip side, we have a Batfam member (or other black-haired DC character) of your choosing (you already know my fav is Jason) sitting at the bar. Why are they there? Idk maybe it's for a case? Maybe they wanted to meet up with friends outside of Gotham? You decide. Anyways, the point is that their minding their own business when a fairly attractive twunk walks up and starts hitting on them awkwardly. And man, this guy is not smooth in the slightest but he's dorky and awkward and kinda cute. They talk to him a bit, teasing and doing some light flirting back. They aren't taking him too seriously, really they're more amused than anything else.

Finally, the guy kinda just gives up trying to be smooth and sighs. He looks at them with a serious look on his face and goes "Look I'll level with you, my friends over there bet me a 100 bucks I wouldn't be able to successfully flirt with you. I'm gonna lean over and whisper in your ear and if you could just agree laugh like I said something witty and give me your number then I'll split the cash with you."

Then he leans over and whispers "Whaddya say, wanna help me win a bet?"

And they let out a genuine laugh and go "You know what? Sure, why not. You're not half-bad and I won't say no to an easy 50" and they grab a napkin, pull a pen out of seemingly nowhere, and give Danny their number (and their Venmo/PayPal/cash app or whatever). They hang out a bit more that night before going their separate ways. A day or two later they get a notification that someone sent them $50 and a message "wanna get coffee/lunch/dinner sometime?"

[leosxrealm]

ᴍᴀɴ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴅ

pairing(s): Charles Leclerc x male! Norris! reader

request: Charles Leclerc x m!reader but his older brother is Lando and he always goes to his races and gradually learns about Charles and grows a hatred for him bc he thinks he's just a rich French (Which Charles constantly corrects) guy but he eventually gets to know him so its like an enemies to lovers kind of thing?

warning(s): fluff!! kind of slow burn, long chapter (3k words), mentions of manipulative ex, alcohol, reader is Charles' gay awakening, also reader and Charles didn't have the best first impression of each other

(a/n): reader's age isn't specified so it can be read as whatever age you want reader to be (21+ cause there's alcohol involved). this was requested so long ago oml. hope you enjoy it anon <3

!not proofread!

Bahrain, 2023

"Can't you fucking watch where you're going?"

"Yo. Chill out, mate," You say, a little taken back by the stranger's outburst and even your own response. You throw up your hands in surrender, leaning your body slightly backward as if to tell the guy in the red t-shirt that you didn't mean any harm. 

You didn't intentionally bump into him. Who even does that? Too busy talking to your sister on the phone, you didn't see where you were going. And it looks like he didn't either. It was a mistake made by both of you. Why was he making such a big deal out of it?

"Don't tell me what to do," he lets out through gritted teeth. Turning on his heels, he walks away. 

"What's that dude's problem anyway?" you scoff, your mood turning sour at the strange dude's behavior. "What dude?" your sister asks. 

That took you by surprise, you forgot you were on a phone call with her. "Some French dude I ran into. He was being a bitch for no reason," you grimace, thinking back to the encounter.

"You know who he was?" your sister asks, curiosity getting the best of her. 

"Nah. Couldn't see his face."

You continued talking to your sister for a while, just until your brother was free from some team meeting that he had to attend after the free practice session.

"You have any other plans for the night?" your brother asks, looking up from his phone. He was definitely planning on hitting some bar with his friends. You could take a break, let yourself unwind for a night, you think.

"Not really," you say with a shrug. 

"Good."

---

"Who's that?" you practically shout, trying to be louder than the music playing. "Who?" Daniel shouts back. You point at the man across the room. He was standing next to your brother, talking to him. 

"Oh! That's Charles," Danny answers with a grin. "Lando and him are good friends. I think," he adds as an afterthought. You hum in response, not like he would have heard that over all the noise. You recognize the man now, he is your friend's teammate. "Oh, they're coming here," Danny says, tapping your shoulder. 

"I don't think I've introduced you two yet," is the first thing Lando says when he reaches you. "Y/n this is Charles," you stick out your hand, giving the new guy a 'hey' as well. 

"Charles this is, Y/n." Charles just gives you a nod and a loose handshake, before disappearing somewhere else. You raise your eyebrow at his odd behavior. 

"Don't mind him. He's a sweet guy, he just had a bad practice today," Daniel says from next to you. You simply shrug, it's not like he mattered to you. 

"Anyway," he grins, summoning two shot glasses from god knows where "Who's ready for some good time?" Lando cheers, ready to have some fun. You shake your head at your younger brother, of course, he's ready to party.

"Not you. You're still practically a child," Danny says while side-eyeing Lando. Your brother opens his mouth, ready to give his friend a piece of his mind before being interrupted by you. "He's right, bro," you nod, "You're what? Like 13?" 

Lando was no longer cheering.

---

"Y/n! It's so good to see you mate!" Carlos says, bringing you in for a side hug. "Carlos!" you laugh, reciprocating the hug, "it's been a while." 

"Yeah, mate. You kinda disappeared on us," he laughs, trying to remember when was the last time he saw you in person. "We were going to get lunch. You wanna join?" 

"We?"

"Uhh...There he is," he says after spotting his teammate. "Charles!" he waves his teammate over, "Do you mind if my friend here joins us for lunch?" You look at him puzzled, you hadn't even agreed to it yet. You shake your head, typical Carlos.

"Uh.. yeah no. It's fine."

You just blink at him, not that he would notice cause he was busy typing away on his phone; he didn't even look your way. A little rude, you'd say. 

---

It's a nice Middle Eastern restaurant that Carlos had picked. You and Carlos were busy talking away, reminiscing about the past, and catching up to date on each other's lives as well. Sure, you had seen his Instagram posts, and known what he had been doing, but hearing it from him was still different. Same for him.

A sudden ring disturbs your conversation with Carlos. "Sorry I have to take this," Charles says as he gets up, and exits the restaurant. You raise your brow, a little confused by his behavior. Not just today, but ever since you've met him. You have seen interviews and fan interactions with him, he certainly did not seem like the grumpy type.

"He certainly isn't like the guy they show on television," you comment, sipping on your wine. Carlos sighs, making you look at him. "What?" you raise an eyebrow. 

"He's a good guy... It's just... I don't know..." he pauses, taking a moment to think, "There's something going on with him." He chews the inside of his cheeks, squinting his eyes to look at Charles who was leaning against his car outside the restaurant, still on a call with someone you didn't know. "I heard, he's having some problems with his girlfriend."

"Trouble with his girlfriend?" you ask, taking another sip of your drink. With nothing to do here, you had been getting bored either way. And a little gossip never hurt anyone.

"Yeah. I don't know the details. It's just what I've heard," he sips his drink, "They looked tense around each other too." 

"Mmm..."

Miami, 2023

"Didn't expect to see you here." 

You turn around, your scotch glass still in your hand. "Charles," you were surprised as well. You didn't expect to see the Ferrari driver at some random charity event. "Care for a drink?" you wave to the bartender, not even waiting for his answer.

"Scotch. Neat," he orders. 

He takes a seat beside you, gulping down his drink in one go. "You good, mate?" you ask, a little concerned about the man. "Hm? Yeah. Don't worry." If he wasn't going to tell you himself, you wouldn't push him. After all, you two weren't exactly friends.

You two stuck to each other for the rest of the evening. It was better than walking around alone. During this time, you had gotten to know a bit about each other as well. He wasn't as bad of a guy as you had originally thought. 

"Yeah, she clearly knew he was flirting with her, and instead of telling the guy she had a boyfriend, she was flirting back. Even letting him cling to her."

"Oh..." you take a sip of your water, deciding on no more drinks for the night.

"And when I asked her about this, she called me a "jealous, possessive boyfriend who's taking away her freedom." Her words, not mine." he continues to rant, using air quotes to emphasize his point. He sighs, she had betrayed his trust; even if people wouldn't exactly call this cheating, in Charles' book, it was. 

"It's all good now. I'm over her," he smiles.

"No wonder you were such a piss baby in Bahrain. No offense," you chuckle slightly.

He looks down a little embarrassed, he knows how he acted like an asshole during that time. And not just to you. He would've understood if you would've given him the cold shoulder tonight. But you didn't.

"Yeah... About that-"

"It's all good, mate. No hard feelings," you cut him off. You knew he was sorry about his rude behavior, it was written all over his face.

"You wanna ditch this event?" you ask, a smile growing on your face. He laughs, not expecting such a question after the (one-sided) heart-to-heart conversation that you two just had. He appreciated it nonetheless. If you were trying to lift his mood, it was certainly starting to work.

"And go where?" he asks after a good laugh.

"I know someone who's hosting a party," you shrug. 

"Ditching an event to go to a party?"

"Ditching a boring event to go to a fun party," you correct, grinning at him.

---

"You never said it was gonna be a houseboat party," he shouts over the loud music. "Welcome to Miami!" you laugh.

You grab his elbow, dragging him towards the tiki bar. Ordering two drinks, you push one in his direction. "What's that?" he eyes the drink.

"This," you emphasize, raising your own glass, "is the perfect way to forget about your gaslighting ex-girlfriend." He laughs, appreciating the humor. The both of you chug down your drinks. 

You drag him over to the dance floor, quite practically forcing him to dance. "Come on, mate," you urge him, "If you wanted to be boring you could've stayed at the event." He laughs, finally loosing up. You two continue to dance, having some more drinks in between. 

---

"Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!..." The chanting continues, daring, challenging you to jump in the water. Charles sneaks up behind you, pushing you into the water. You turn around just before he could, holding onto him, and dragging him in as well.

You submerge, laughing as you do. Charles gasps, still a little surprised, before he laughs as well. He holds on to your shoulder, still heaving. Your shirt that you had worn to the charity event, sticking to your body.

 He eyes you, for longer than he should have. This was new. He doesn't think he had ever been interested in another man's body before. He tears his eyes away, trying to cool down the warmth that suddenly spread throughout his body. 

Your friend, the host, pulls you up, slapping you on the back in the process. You help Charles after, "accidently" pulling him by a little more force than needed. He bumps into you. He doesn't pull away like you half expected him to. He pulls away just slightly enough to see your face. Your hands go to his hips, swaying his body, along with yours, to the beat of the music.

---

The sound of laughter rings out in the surprisingly empty street of Miami. It's a small road, probably that's why. It's well into the early hours of the morning. 

It's media day and Charles knows his manager's gonna hate him when he shows up looking dead, still hungover. He couldn't care less about that now. He hasn't felt this good, this free, in forever. 

He looks to his side, you're walking beside him, one of your hands in your trouser's pocket, the other holding your blazer, a few of your shirt buttons open, slightly exposing your well-built chest and shoulder. 

"I'm so fucking tired oh my god," you laugh, looking up at the sky. Even though you couldn't see the stars because of all the lights, the sky still looked pretty. "Me too," he says, his eyes fixed on you.

"Hm?" you look at him from the corner of your eyes, "something on my face?" 

"Huh? No. Why would you think that?" he clears his throat, averting his eyes. 

"You're staring." The tip of his ears turns red. He can't believe he got caught staring. "Not that I mind." His eyes widened, but he didn't reply. You look at him from the corner of your eyes. Did I make him uncomfortable? you wondered. 

You don't say anything after that as the both of you walk back to your hotel. Charles' room came first. You stood behind him as he unlocks the door. "Wanna come inside?" he asks, turning around, and standing in the doorway. 

You smile, "Can't." He frowns slightly at your vague reply. "I have a flight in a few hours. And I still have to pack and take a shower. I should probably get something to eat as well," you scratch the back of your head, sometimes you get sick of traveling so much. 

His mouth forms an 'O' in understanding. "You're not staying for the Grand Prix?"

"I have yet another event I have to attend," you sigh, "and this one... I can't skip."

You start walking backward, not ready to turn your back on him yet. With both of your busy schedules, you don't know when you will be able to see him next. 

"I'll see you around, Charlie," you give a short wave, turning your back on him, and going to the elevator. Charles watches you leave, till he can't see you any longer. He looks down, a smile gracing his face. You had started calling him that at the party, he had thought it was because you were drunk, but apparently not.

It was truly a night he wouldn't be able to forget.

Silverstone, 2023

Charles has been on the lookout for you ever since he arrived here. It was Lando's home race, and he was hoping you would be there as well. It's Friday when he hears from Carlos that you're in the paddock. Supporting Mclaren, obviously. 

Carlos and you are good friends, right? Would that be enough for you to drop by the Ferrari garage? And you do. You stop by the Ferrari garage to say hi to Carlos, or at least that's what Charles thinks. 

You've been talking to Carlos since you arrived. A different thought inhabits his mind. Do you remember him? Was he even worth remembering?

He doesn't want to find the answers to his own thoughts that are going wild. He doesn't think he can handle you saying that you don't remember him. That night, as simple as it was, meant a lot to him. He doesn't think he can handle the person he's been searching for, ever since that day two months ago, to say that they don't remember him.

"Y/n, I hope you remember my teammate, Charles."

Carlos' voice rings through his ears. He looks up to see Carlos and you walking over to him. You nod, glancing in his direction. Carlos looks behind you to see his engineer motioning him over. "I'll see you later, mate. It seems they need me."

"Charlie," you grin. A sudden warmth spreads throughout his face and body. It's been so long, far too long since he had heard your voice. "Y/n."

"Walk with me," you say to him, quiet enough that even he was barely able to hear it. He walks beside you wordlessly. "How you been, Charlie?" there it was, that nickname again. "Uhh... I've been good. Barely gotten any time to myself after having races back to back."

You nod in understanding. Athletes really do have a tough schedule, don't they? You walk around the paddock, running into a couple of people on the way, who were very surprised, to say the least, at your unexpected friendship with the Monégasque. 

You talk about things, completely unrelated to either of your lives, just enjoying each other's presence. In a people full of paddock, there were only you two. 

As much as Charles loves racing, he wishes he had a little more time before he had to go for the free practice. "Charlies," you call out, making the Ferrari driver stop in his tracks. He turns around, a confused look on his face. "Dinner tonight? On me."

It felt like his face was on fire. Were you asking him out on a date? No, he shouldn't get his hopes up. You're friends with half the grid, maybe they're invited as well. He nods, his face the same color as his car. 

"Great," a grin spreads on your face, "I'll see you tonight." 

---

Charles was trying to tie a tie when he heard knocks on his room's door. He rushes around the hotel room to get to the door. "Y/n..." he trails off taking in your outfit. You looked... expensive. All his previous worries of over-dressing were gone. Now, he was worried that he was under-dressed. 

"Charlie," you greet him. Your eyes land on his messily done tie. "Having troubles?" Charles looks down, following your eyes. "Uhmm..." he clears his throat, a little embarrassed that he couldn't even tie a tie. 

You laugh, following him into his room. "Lemme see," you gesture for him to come closer. He does. He steps a little closer, not too close; he tries to respect your boundaries. You pull him closer by his tie, careful enough to not hurt him.

"How am I supposed to help you with it if you're gonna stand so far away?" you murmur, your hands working on his tie. "There," you smile, "all done." You don't step back. Neither does he.

He looks down, the tips of your shoes are almost touching his. That's how close you're standing. "Should I wear something else?" he questions, "I feel under-dressed."

"You're not. You look perfect," you grin at him, "Trust me, Charlie."

---

You open the passenger side for him to get out. It feels a little weird, Charles thinks, he has always been the one to hold open the gates for people, his dates specifically. He was raised to be a gentleman. It felt different for someone to open the hold the gate for him. 

He thanks you as he gets out of your car. You had insisted to pick him up. The both of you walk towards the restaurant. Charles heaves out a sigh of relief, there's no paparazzi around, at least he could enjoy the night peacefully with you.

"Reservation for two. Under Norris." 

Reservation for two? he gulps. He's happy to be able to spend time with you alone, without other people butting in, but he's also nervous at the same time because you two are alone. 

The both of you are led to a table. He walks behind you silently. The butterflies filled his stomach. Since when did he get so nervous on first dates? Was this even a date? He frowns ever so slightly, he hopes it is.

The conversation flows freely between you two. No cameras flashing in your faces, no people there to recognize you two. It was more peaceful compared to your night spent in Miami. 

Like all good things, the night had to come to an end as well. You find yourself standing in front of his hotel room once again. "Want to come inside?" He hopes this time, your answer would be yes. 

It was.

(a/n): was this close to adding surprise angst once again 🤏🏼 uh and i won’t be making a part two for this. i felt like the ending was perfect so i left it as it was. if you have any drabble ideas with this pairing don’t hesitate to send that in!! hope you guys enjoy this :)

HC: Carlos asked for all the details later when he found out about your veryyyyyy unexpected friendship with Charles

[shekeepswriting]

A Little More Heart

[Syverson x Reader]

Word Count: 3977

Summary: On a night out with an old friend, Sy meets a woman who catches his interest.

Warnings: Just cursing and a little bit of alcohol

A/N: This could become a series? I’ve got little bits and pieces and some fun ideas. Let me know if you’d be interested in that. I’m new to this part of tumblr and very nervous...

Sullivan’s was pretty barren that night, not that anyone could expect much for this late on a Thursday night. A few regulars warming their usual barstools, making conversation and laying out their woes to a characteristically haggard Billy Sullivan as he filled the pretzel and peanut bowls. A duo of middle aged women talking gratuitous shit at a table near the middle of the room with frequent smoke breaks. A  group of four guys, barely on the right side of 21, trying to boost their cool kid points by getting good at pool. One woman sitting at the end of the bar with a notebook, leaning heavily on her forearms in a way that read more fatigue than alcohol consumption. Looked like she was drinking lemonade. 

Everyone who had been there when Syverson and Danny walked in two hours earlier was still holding steady.

They’d made their way through the stages of conversation people usually had drinking with old friends. The short term catch up, funny argument over something stupid, brief foray into more emotional territory, shared memories, hypotheticals. Their night, at least, was starting to wind down. 

When Sy came back from the bathroom, Danny was staring at the woman at the bar, finger tapping idly on his glass. Having known him since he was fifteen years old, Sy knew that face very well.

“Not gonna go your way,” Sy said mildly, with a hint of a smirk.

“No? How d’you figure?” 

“She’s sitting at the very end of the bar with a notebook and pen. She didn’t come here to make friends or get hit on.” 

“She could’ve stayed home to write,” Danny argued, but his face was thoughtful as he watched you.

“We could’ve stayed home to drink.”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Alright, take it easy. I’m not gonna harass the woman. Just gonna introduce myself. If she’s not interested, I’ll go. Not trying to be an ass.” 

“Nah, you don’t gotta try. You’re a natural.” 

Danny squinted, snatching at Sy’s glass and downing the rest of his drink in retaliation. 

“You go then. Looks like you’re running empty anyway.” 

“I don’t do that shit anymore.”

“Oh, I know it. Old man Syverson ain’t known the touch of a woman in fifty years,” Danny said, exaggerating his accent and wiping away an imaginary tear. 

“That’s enough of that now.”

“Come on, man. Look at her. Frowning and drinking alone. She’s your soulmate.” 

Sy shot him a frown, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Not drinking alone though, am I?”

“You talk to her or I will.”  

Sy gave an unconvinced grumble, but the look on Danny’s face made it clear it was no idle bluff. Now, there was nothing wrong with Danny. He wasn’t aggressive or pushy; he knew how to take no for an answer. But he’d give it a solid effort, and he was the most extroverted person Sy had ever met. 

If you were uninterested in company, the way that he was almost certain you were, it would be easier to avoid the whole process entirely. And if Sy took up the bar stool two spaces to your right, Danny wouldn’t have a clear view to know whether or not the two of you actually spoke a word to each other.

He stood up from the table with a deep sigh, making sure his annoyance over the disruption of his night was fully documented.

“Happy hunting, Captain,” Danny said with a stupid grin and a sloppy salute that had Sy rolling his eyes as he turned towards the bar.

As you noticed his approach, your shoulders tensed up, lips slightly pursed but eyes still trained on your journal. Sy gave you space, careful to only observe you through his peripheral vision as he claimed a stool a fair distance from you, leaving a buffer seat between you.

Billy approached as he sat, brought him a beer with minimal conversation.

You fidgeted, clicking your pen three times in rapid succession. 

There wasn’t much more Sy could do to set you at ease without blowing the whole operation, but he set his phone on the bartop, scrolling absently through contacts and pictures to give himself something to do, something to help you feel less observed.

Your leg started bouncing and you glanced at him, quick as humanly possible. 

There was a silent standoff for a few minutes, one Sy was trying very hard to will out of existence. But you were still tense on your barstool, expectant.

You broke first.

“No pitch, huh?”

You were looking right at him this time, fully turned to face him, eyes intense but not unfriendly. 

“Pitch?”

“You left that cozy corner table to come drink by yourself on an uncomfortable bar stool. Usually the kind of move that’s followed by an introduction, maybe some pickup lines. A pitch of some kind.”

Sy turned his head just enough to see the table he’d been sitting at out of the corner of his eye. Danny turned his head away too fast, feigning interest in the record cover art hanging on the bar walls. Idiot. 

“Saw me over there, huh?”

“I’m a woman drinking alone in a dive bar, and you are literally the largest threat in the room. Of course I saw you.”

Sy frowned.

“Not a threat to nobody.”

You raised your eyebrow, reaching out with a speed that had Sy struggling not to tense up as you looped your pen under the chain barely peeking out of the neckline of his shirt. 

“You don’t strike me as the necklace type. Military, right?”

“Retired.”

You hummed, letting the chain drop back against his skin as you retreated from his personal space.  He reached up, patting the shape of his tags as they resettled against his chest beneath his shirt. It felt strange, wearing them again. He wasn’t used to it anymore. Normally they lived in the back of the top drawer in his desk, out of sight and as far out of mind as he could manage to keep them. But anniversaries were psychologically significant. He’d learned that in therapy. So he’d decided to honor this one, the anniversary of his initial enlistment, by putting them on again. Going out with a friend from before… everything. It was why he was here. 

“Military,” you repeated quietly, your eyes back on your notebook again, still tilted out of Syverson’s view as you flipped the page, stared at the blank expanse for a moment before giving your pen two thoughtful clicks. “Always a threat.”

Sy’s stomach lurched uncomfortably.

“Not to you. Not to anyone in this bar,” he said firmly, tilting his head to add as an afterthought, “Long as they mind their fuckin manners.” 

Your mouth curved up at the corner, just the hint of a smile, the first he’d seen from you all night. Not that he’d been watching. Much. It disappeared after only a few seconds, replaced by a focused frown that traced a crease between your brows as you put pen to paper.

His eyes flicked down towards the bartop, but the cover of the notebook still shielded the page from his view. He was tempted to drop it, leave you to your work, whatever that might be. But your body language gave him pause. You had shuffled around on your stool during your brief conversation and remained that way even now, shoulders and hips pivoted slightly in his direction rather than running parallel to the bar in a position more comfortable for writing. He fiddled with the label on the bottle of beer the bartender had brought him, the corner peeling back easy under his thumb before he smoothed it back into place. 

“What’re you doing?”

You glanced up at him, flashing that little smile again, though this time it looked a little sharper, caught somewhere between self-conscious and amused.

“Chasing the muse, I guess.”

Sy raised an eyebrow, gave a neutral hum.

“Not sure I know what that means.”

“Sure you do,” you said quietly, eyes tracing thoughtfully over his face before you turned your attention back to your notebook. “It’s a pretty universal concept, I think.”

“Maybe.” He took a sip of his beer. “Just figured most people don’t come this far south looking for it. More of a New York and LA kind of thing.”

“Just because those are the places most people look for inspiration, doesn’t mean those are the only places you can find it.”

You were some kind of artist then. Interesting. 

“Can I ask what you’re looking to inspire? Or is that too personal?”

That earned him another look, something quiet and appreciative. Two quick pen clicks. 

“You can ask. I kinda want to hear you guess though.”

He looked again at your notebook. It wasn’t the tiny kind, but it wasn’t full sized either. Leatherbound or something like it, not spiral. He couldn’t see the paper to know whether it was lined or not. Could be for writing small amounts. Drawing maybe. You could even be writing song lyrics in there. He hadn’t been around enough artsy people in his life to know a damn thing about it. 

But he was observant, good at cataloging behavior, pretty decent at reading people. When he had first approached, your hand had been gliding in straight lines across the page, but now it was moving more erratically. There was something different in your glances too. Slow, almost too intense to be polite, analyzing. Maybe you were drawing him on that page you kept so carefully hidden from his gaze. Or maybe you were still deciding whether or not he was a threat to you. Sy wasn’t totally comfortable with either option, but he’d prefer to think that the current turn of the conversation was proof of you softening just a little towards him. 

He hedged his bets a little, just in case.

“Don’t see any paint on ya. That’s about the best I can do,” he said mildly.

“That was an awful lot of thinking for ‘don’t see any paint on ya,’’' you said, tilting your head. A bit too gentle to be an accusation, but you still wanted a better answer.

“Alright…” Sy shifted on his bar stool, angling towards you. “Looked like you were writing before I got here. But now you’re either scribbling or drawing. Maybe even drawing me by the way you keep looking at me. Unless you’ve got another reason to be staring like that.”

Right answer. You were smiling again, a little freer than last time.

“I’m not staring.”

He shrugged. “Studying, then.”

“I’ll take studying,” you said with a slow nod. “Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“I’ll live.”

“Of course you will, but that’s not an answer.”

“Sure isn’t,” he said, taking another drink.

His own lips curved up into a smile, almost against his will, when you laughed. Bright and open. You were fully facing him now with the kind of smile that was impossible to ignore, genuine and joyful and inescapably contagious. 

“Let’s try this then…” you said, trailing off into soft humming sounds as you added a few last hurried lines to your notebook before setting your pen down.

You ripped the page out as cleanly as you could manage and set it on the scarred bar top, giving it a little push towards him.

And it was his face looking up at him from the paper, rendered in wild pen strokes of blue ink, but no less detailed for the messy style. The close cut of his hair, sharp furrow of his brows above focused eyes, the beard that had needed trimming for two days at least. Neither unflattering nor romanticized, just honest. The way you saw him. A little intense, a little rough around the edges, but not harsh. There was kindness there somewhere in the lines of his face, but he couldn’t pin down exactly where.

Sy hummed, gestured toward your pen.

“Borrow that for a minute?”

You slid it down the bar to him with a raised brow. 

He nodded in thanks as he took it, snagging an unused napkin as well. With an excessive slowness, he sketched out his very best stick figure, looking up at you with an evaluative stare when he heard a muffled laugh. You dropped your hand from your mouth, meeting his gaze with a playful smile, tolerating the long look with amusement dancing in your eyes.

He dutifully added two dot eyes, pausing for a moment before drawing eyelashes and eyebrows, trying not to tear through the napkin. A very geometric nose followed, and a wide open smile. After another long look he added your hair, actually bothering to get the shape right since it seemed much more attainable even with his limited art skills. 

You were still smiling as you watched him sign the corner. 

“Those your initials or is that your name?” you asked, tilting your head to read the tiny letters.

“My name,” he answered, sliding the napkin and pen back to the bar space between your two stools. 

“Sy,” you said slowly, as if testing the sound of it. He smiled too, just a little, not remembering when he’d last liked the sound of his own name so much. 

“You didn’t sign yours,” he reminded you, and you squinted your eyes at him, knowing full well what he was after. 

Still, you took up the pen and signed the loose sheet of notebook paper. Probably exactly as you signed everything else: mostly illegibly. He could decipher the initials, but not much else.

You let out a snort at the unimpressed look he leveled at you. 

“Now you’re just causin’ problems on purpose.”

“It’s not my fault that you write like a caps lock keyboard and I don’t.”

He sighed. 

“And here I drew you a real pretty picture,” Sy said slowly, tapping the napkin. 

“You did,” you said with a smile. “But I’m still holding out for the pitch.” 

“I still don’t have one.”

“Come on, now,” you said, a challenging spark in your eyes. “I’ve never met a man who didn’t have a pitch. A line. A move. You’ve got something.”

“Haven’t done none of that since I was a teenager,” he said. “I’ve got no use for that shit.”

“Sure you do. Because I’m asking. And don’t tell me you haven’t flirted since you were a teenager. I don’t believe that for a second.”

Sy shifted in his seat.

“Didn’t say I never flirted. Just said I don’t use lines.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully at the distinction, resting your chin on your hand. 

“Come on now. You want to know my name, that’s the price. And I expect your best work, Sy.” 

He let out a deep sigh, rubbing at his forehead. This was about to be real fuckin embarrassing. 

“Alright. Not promising anything good, here. I only ever had two.”

“Efficient,” you said with an approving nod.

“They’re not good,” he repeated.

“But they worked?” 

“Mostly. God only knows why.”

“Stop stalling,” you said in a stage whisper.

“First one…”

“I’m ready.”

He cleared his throat, looked straight into your eyes. 

“Wanna make out later?”

Your mouth dropped open in surprise before stretching into a wide smile. 

“Oh my god,” you laughed. “I wasn’t ready.”

Sy shrugged, took a sip of his beer while you stared at him in awe.

“That worked for you?”

“Yep,” he said with a small smile. “What, you don’t appreciate honesty?”

“I… do,” you answered slowly. “Okay, I guess I see it. What’s the second one?”

“Excuse me, ma’am, I don’t mean to bother you, but I can’t seem to find my phone number. Could I borrow yours?”

“You turned your accent up for that one,” you said with a delighted laugh. “Full force southern charm. My God, what a little heartbreaker you must have been!”

“Now you’re just bein’ mean,” he said, turning back away from you.

“No, I’m completely serious. I fully believe those worked for you, and now I kinda want to see pictures.”

“Now, you’ve gotten more than enough outta me for one night.”

“Fine, fine,” you sighed. 

You picked your pen back up, wrote your first name in small block letters under your artsy scribble, your best approximation of his own handwriting.

“Bullyin me,” he muttered even as he committed your name to memory.

“Imitation is the highest form of flattery,” you said breezily, laughing at the look he shot you in response.

“So, what, you’re some kind of artist then?” he asked, changing the subject. “Draw and paint and all that?”

You shook your head.

“Not really, no. That’s just for fun. I like drawing people.”

He looked at the paper again.

“Well you’re damn good at it. If that’s not the muse you’re chasin, what is?”

“Umm,” you sighed, like you were preparing to give an explanation that you’d given dozens of times before. “I write online for a magazine. It’s… kind of like a travel blog, but it’s less about the places and more about the people? Here…” 

You reached into your pocket for your phone, tapping around for a bit before handing it to him. There was a picture of you at the top, a profile view of you driving, but it was so strongly backlit by a late afternoon sun, that it left your features mostly indistinguishable. Smart. Probably safer that way. Below that, a US map covered in multicolor pins, a calendar view, with dots on days you’d posted, and finally a list of posts. Abbreviated views of each one showed a first name and city, a pen drawing like the one you’d done of him, and the first two sentences of your story. 

He nodded slowly.

“You gonna write a story about me, then?”

You fussed with your hair, shifting uncomfortably on your stool. 

“Probably not. Unless you want me to. I always ask permission first.”

“I’m sure you do. Didn’t mean nothing by it.”

You sighed again. Sy frowned.

“So what’s the problem then? Looks like there’s a lot here. Doesn’t seem like you need a lot of help.”

“I didn’t think so either,” you said with an unhappy smile. “But my editor has decided that I need to attract more dedicated readers. People who check the website every day, not just when they think to. Subscribers. And to do that, I apparently need to add a little more heart.” 

“What’s that mean?” Sy asked.

“Good fuckin question,” you said, lifting your glass as if in a toast. “I guess some sort of emotional buy-in. Something personal and specific so the readers get invested in me specifically, not just the people I talk to.”

“And that brought you down here?”

You shrugged.

“My grandma lives here. Seemed like as good a plan as any.”

“I’m sure she’s glad to see you, whether it helps with your writing or not.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, your eyes softening. “She really is.”

“How long you think you’ll be staying?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got two weeks of posts queued up, so I bought myself at least that long before I have to figure out how to… do the emotion thing.” 

“That damn emotion thing,” Sy said, shaking his head, smiling a bit when it drew a soft laugh from you.

“Yeah…”

“Maybe I’ll see you around again then,” he ventured, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s a tiny ass town,” you said with a smile. “So probably.” 

“You’d be okay with that?” he checked.

You laughed again, nudged his shoulder.

“Yeah, I think so. Long as you mind your fuckin manners,” you said, taking on an overplayed surly tone as you repeated his earlier comment back to him. 

“I always mind my manners,” he said matter-of-factly, glaring playfully at you when it elicited a snort from you. 

“Oh, sure you do,” you laughed, checking the time on your phone.

You took a deep breath in the companionable silence that followed, reaching down to drag your bag up from where it had been tucked safely between your feet. The napkin with Sy’s drawing curled your lips into another smile as you closed it between the pages of your notebook and stowed it in the main zipper pocket along with your pen. Your phone went back into your pocket. 

Looked like his time with you was almost up.

He leaned back on his barstool a little, glancing back at Danny who was now schooling the young guy at pool with a self-satisfied smile. 

When he returned his attention to you, you were giving him that searching look again. 

“About that time?” he asked.

“I think so, yeah,” you said. “It was nice meeting you, Sy. Sorry for giving you a hard time.”

“Nah, you’re not.”

You laughed, shrugged your shoulders.

“I’d like to think it did you some good. But seriously. I had fun talking to you. Thanks for the company.”

He nodded, gave you a smile.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Hope so.”

You took another breath and slid off your stool. Billy came to collect your glass, mostly melted ice now, and you gave him a polite smile. 

There was a moment of hesitation, like you wanted to say something else but weren’t sure what. You settled for a little wave as you started to turn towards the door. Then it was Sy’s turn to feel it, the suddenly urgent need to say something, to drag the moment out just a little longer.

He called out your name, a plan forming in his head when you turned quickly back to him.

“Yeah?”

“Well, ‘fore you go, I figure I should ask you...”

“Ask me what?” 

If you had any idea what he was about to say, you were hiding it extremely well, just staring at him curiously, head slightly tilted and smiling softly. Almost made him change his mind. Almost.

“You wanna make out later?”

Your eyes lit up, a laugh barely kept in check, locked behind a widening smile. 

“Oh, I see. I get it now,” you said, taking a step closer. 

Sy raised his eyebrows.

“It’s the eyes that do it. You weren’t doing the eyes before.” 

“I’m not doing nothing with my eyes,” he argued, but a smile slipped free when you took another step closer. 

“Yes you are,” you laughed. “You’re smoldering.”

“No, ma’am, I don’t smolder.” 

“It’s more lighthearted than most,” you admitted. “Dare I say even playful. But it’s still a smolder.” 

He shrugged easily, eyes scanning over your face.

“Still ain’t answered my question.”

“Did you mean it?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in challenge.

“Said it, didn’t I?”

You looked him over, humming thoughtfully. He didn’t move, kept right on looking until your eyes returned to his.

“I’ll think about it and let you know,” you answered with an unreadable expression.

“And how are you gonna manage that?” he asked, spinning on the bar stool to keep his eyes on you as you moved towards the door.

You clicked your tongue, patting at your pockets with increasing concern until you finally met his eyes with a despairing frown.

“Oh God, you’re right! I totally lost my phone number. Any chance that I could borrow yours?”

Sy shook his head with a sigh, holding his hand out for your phone as you approached him again, an inescapably smug smile on your lips.

“Think you’re real cute, don’t you?” he muttered, biting at the corner of his lip to keep a smile in check.

“You certainly think so, or it wouldn’t have worked.”

He handed your phone back to you, watched you send him a wink emoji before you turned to leave again with a parting flutter of your fingers.

He shook his head again when the door closed behind you and saved your number as “Trouble.”

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

A/N: I’m very nervous. Please let me know what you think and if you wanna read more! Thanks for sticking with me this far

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and hero of cookies final part

All work words count: 14 643 Words in this part: 244 Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay Or Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway This part summary: What happened to Dani (author needs a certificate for being little shit) Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

Dani packed her stuff as soon as she got back from patrol. While doing it, she called Tuck and Sam to coordinate travel plan with them and to make sure she heard where and when correctly. Danny’s birthday were coming, an alien’s autograph would be a good present. Unfortunately she wouldn’t have time to get any of his merch on her way so the sky map she printed in Gotham’s Public Library would have to make it. Because of Sam’s demand she stocked herself in protein bars, other high calorie snacks and tons of drinks. Guy at the register looked disturbed but correctly guessed it wasn’t his business. Thanks for physics meets magic mess that made her backpack lighter. It worked like thermos in a way, though she didn’t even try to understand it.

This flight was going to be challenge not only to her speed but also, mostly, her stamina.

Ancients let her survive.

*

Turns out, phones couldn’t survive falling from over a hundred feet at around 60 miles per hour. Well she had all important numbers (Jazz, Val, Tuck, Sam non- and yes-emergency Danny) on paper phased inside her hip. From Sam’s money she could buy one in Los Angeles and explain the change of number then. She would have to come up with an excuse though.

She wasn’t going to admit she got distracted and bumped into a bunch of pigeons, got startled and dropped her phone like a silly child.

********

I know I could and should post it with previous part but I wanted to build the tension.

Batfam: We will finally meet our almost niece! Dani: Oh, look, plot convienient reason to leave city fast! Dani was setting up most intense and insane work-out playlist known to mankind to get her through her journey when she bumped with these pigeons face first

Starting notes are longer than this part.

Shit, I really should put it with previous part but the tension and potential for drama aaaa I couldn't resist

and @audhumla-sailor is an enabler

Tag list: @pickleking8 @mynameisnotlaura

[samgirl98]

Forgotten Demon Twin 7/?

Prev | Next

“So, does that mean you can get us that sweet, sweet new Wayne tech,” Tucker asked.

Sam hit him in the back of his head.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“No problem,” she said.

“Betrayal from my only two friends!”

The three teens were in Sam’s basement/entertainment room. Danny had just finished giving them an unabridged version of his family’s history. Barring a few things. Like the fact that Bruce Wayne was Batman and his kids were the other Gotham heroes.

“So, what now,” Sam asked. She still couldn’t believe it. Danny was raised by assassins! She wanted to be disgusted; she couldn’t condone any life-taking, but she was also aware enough that it wasn’t Danny’s fault.

Besides, he has stopped, and he was a hero now.

“Now, I tell my parents the whole truth about Phantom.”

Sam and Tucker stared at each other.

“Are you sure, dude,” Tucker asked.

“Yeah, what if they don’t accept it and attack you?”

Danny shrugged, “They took it just fine when they found out during the whole reality gauntlet fiasco.”

“Yeah, but that was then; this is now. Danny, you just told them a cult raised you. There’s only so much you can dump on people before they break. Especially parents. Why can’t you accept me for who I am, mom?”

Sam was breathing hard at the end of her little rant.

“Okay,” Danny drawled, “Your parents aren’t my parents, Sam. I would have to tell them eventually. I might as well get it over with.”

“Are you going to tell them about the Ghost King thing, too,” Tucker asked.

“I’m not the Ghost King yet,” Danny said. Tucker rolled his eyes, “Fine, crowned prince.”

“Yeah, I am,” Danny said. For it to work, he had to be fully honest with his parents about Phantom and everything it entailed.

Sam and Tucker looked at each other.

“If you’re sure,” Sam said, “Just know we will always be here for you.”

“Yeah, dude, the three of us are a team.”

“Thanks guys.”

The three friends sat in silence for a while.

“So, are you really not going to ask for that sweet new Wayne tech?”

“Seriously, Tucker?”

“Boo,” a pillow hit Tucker in the face.

“Hey! A guy should be allowed to ask.”

____

Vlad Masters sat in his office listening in to the three friends.

He was glad he had the foresight to bug more than the Fenton’s home. (Daniel always found the bugs, anyway.) What he had just learned had him reeling. Daniel wasn’t Maddie and Jack’s biological son. Not only that but that buffoon Bruce Wayne was Daniel’s father.

What’s more, Daniel had been raised by assassins.

This changed things. He got up and looked out the window.

Daniel was a valuable asset just for being a half-ghost like him. But now, he was not only the crowned prince of the Infinite Realms, but he was also the biological son of Bruce Wayne. If he could get Daniel on his side, Vlad would have more power than he could have thought possible. Daniel would be his son, and Maddie would be his.

It was time to scheme.

____

Damian got out of the car and left as soon as they got to the hotel room. Bruce was glad he had called Dick to meet them in front. His eldest followed Damian, even if it was from a distance.

Bruce sighed. He had no idea what to do. How do you deal with a long-lost child forgotten by his mother and brother? A child who had been abandoned by the only family he had ever known? A child who Bruce had no knowledge of?

“God, I wish you were here, Alfred.”

As he exited the car, he could’ve sworn he heard the older man speak, “I’m still here, Master Bruce. Always.”

He turned and saw an empty car.

The city must be getting to him.

____

Tim had not slept since he got to Amity Park. Now that the firewalls were gone, he had done research.

What he found disturbed him.

“Duke, come here for a moment,” the newest member of the family walked up.

“Tim, you should really sleep.”

Tim took a gulp of his energy drink, “Read this.”

Noticing her brothers’ tense posture, Cass came up to read whatever had caught their attention.

“That can’t be right,” she said, “that violates the Protection Meta Act.”

“Well, it’s there and it exists.”

The Anti-Ecto Act laws were laws that carried out government-approved genocide. They allowed ecto-entities to be hunted down, studied, and exterminated without prejudice. Not only that, but the way the laws were written allowed for any ectocontaminated human to be classified as an ectoentity and stripped of all rights.

How had the Justice League missed this?

“Bruce is going to be pissed,” Duke said.

“Our new baby brother is in danger,” Cass stated.

Tim kept the tab on the Anti-Ecto Act open and took notes to present to Bruce. He was also able to find fights between Phantom and other ghosts. The kid mostly fought in the air.

Tim took more notes of every power Phantom showed. The list was extensive. He whistled when the kid gave a well-placed kick to a vampire-looking ghost. Tim could easily see the League training. It was easy to notice when you knew what to look for.

He found blogs of teenagers praising the teenager and articles claiming that he was as big a menace as the ghosts he fought. Over the years, though, it seemed that the perspective had shifted on Phantom.

He cataloged the shift after Amity Park had been sucked into an alternate dimension and Phantom had helped save the city.

There were more articles.

Phantom Saves the City from an Eternal Sleep.

Phantom Stop Giant Plant Ghost from Eating Amity Parkers.

The more he read, the more Tim learned. The more he worried for his new brother. He was different from Damian. There were no articles of decapitated people or people stabbed by a sword. Danny didn’t seem to be as violent as Damian had been.

It made sense. Talia and the League didn’t truly raise him. He had had a chance of a semi-normal life.

Tim also looked into the other hero, the Red Huntress.

She seemed more like a ghost hunter than a hero to Time. She shot any and all ghosts. There was an interview of her saying that all ghosts deserved to be exterminated. Yikes.

There was a knock on the door. It was the secret knock Bruce had taught them. Cass opened the door.

“Hey, Bruce,” Tim looked up and saw the weariness on Bruce’s shoulders. The guy must really be going through it. It made Tim feel a bit bad for what he was about to show Bruce, but the man deserved, no, he needed to know what was going on in Amity Park.

“Tim. Found anything?”

“Oh, I found plenty. You might as well get comfortable. This is going to be long.”

So, I'm better from Covid, which means I'll start working again. I won't update as often as I did the past few days but I'll try to update at least once a week.

I hope you liked this chapter.

[artaxlivs]

WE WERE ALLOWED TO ASK FOR TREATS??!!!?!?

*sobs in too busy to check tumblr yesterday*

Okay - I almost went back to that post and tagged you because you're so damn supportive and your comments always make me feel seen as a writer...but then I got 7 asks all within like 15 fifteen minutes and my brain got frazzled. SO, you're late but it's okay, you deserve it anyway.

"Trick or treat?"

"It's the first of November." Steve scoffed, backing away from the door so Eddie could step inside.

"Yeah....I'm late." He shrugged like 'what are you gonna do?' but then he huffed a laugh, "Or maybe I'm getting an early start for next year."

Rolling his eyes, Steve grabbed the almost empty bowl from the side table, "Well, all I've got left is the Mars Bars and a few Milky Ways."

Eddie stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and tapped his sneaker on the tile of the entryway. His plan had been to do this last night, say 'trick or treat' and then offer himself up as the treat. To just...put himself out there. In a big way. Like he'd never been brave enough to do before. But he'd gotten almost all the way here and turned around - twice.

This was Steve. Steve Harrington. Nevermind the status and the money and the fancy car. This was Steve. The guy who'd dragged Eddie's lifeless body back through the gate and kept watch over him in the hospital to make sure the staff didn't 'accidentally' let him die. This was Steve. The guy who had been valiantly trying to make Eddie feel welcomed and less alone.

And Eddie was 99% sure that Steve has been hitting on him for months. He blushed around Eddie all the time for christsakes! But Eddie was such a fucking coward. He couldn't even bring himself to flirt back because that would mean exposing himself to the possibility of rejection.

Last night he'd dressed up like Danny Zuko from Grease because they'd watched it together on one of their weekly movies nights. Steve really loved that movie and had made many jokes - possibly flirtations - about 'summer lovin' and how he understood Sandy's turmoil about dating someone so different from who everyone thought she should date. It should have been a sure thing but Eddie had chickened out. Just like always.

Eddie blew his breath out long and slow, stared resolutely at the HHS on the leg of Steve's old basketball sweats. "What if...what if I wasn't asking? What if that was an offer?"

The HHS got closer as Steve stepped into Eddie's space, "You hiding candy in your pockets or were you offering something else?" Steve didn't touch, even though he was close enough to.

Eddie dragged his eyes up, meeting Steve's hopeful - thank god - ones and he just....said it, "Me? I'm offering me."

Steve grinned, biting his bottom lip and looking relieved. He stepped even closer, sliding his arms around Eddie's neck, resting their foreheads together, "Then...happy day after Halloween to me, I guess."

[jaybirbie]

DeadSerious prompt that’s been rattling in my brain. (Feel free to pick this up if ya want btw) But basically Damian gets in fight with the BatFamily some hurtful things are said and so Damian runs away. Meanwhile Danny has had to flee home after his parents find out about his half-dead status, they meet and slowly fall in love over the course of a wacky adventure road trip. Potentially including a cliche Bar fight, stealing a car, maybe getting arrested? falling asleep under the stars and trying to avoid all of Damian’s siblings.

Anyways just a thought.

Edit: it’s a fic now, first one I’ve ever written! Posted on Ao3. Roadtripped.

[beautifulcrayola]

Praise

This is dedicated to the fantastic, incomparable @gretavanlace 

3 things: I am very very bad at using Tumblr on desktop, you will have to forgive me for the kinks until I get this figured out. 2. THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD. I told Lace it would be out tonight and I’m trying to make good on my promise. 3. I have like 7 other things up my sleeves with the other boys so please please please let me know if you enjoy this. Ok, I love ya, enjoy!

Warnings: SMIUT (18+, minors DNI), unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it), nipple play (very briefly) cunninlingus. (I feel I'm missing a few things cause I forgot what wrote already, but it’s dirty, so mind ya eyes)

“All I’m saying is if you throw her over your shoulder and take her upstairs, she’ll do whatever you want her to do,” Sam grabs the beer to tip it up to his mouth as Danny grabs it to put it back down.

“Think you’ve had enough, kid.”

Sam immediately turns to you and Jake to pout, “Jake, tell him give it back.” Jake chuckles lowly at his little brother, slurring his words and pitching a fit like a 2 year old.

“No, no, little brother, I think Danny may have a point.” Jake grabs the glass from in front of him and pushes it towards you, just far enough out of Sam’s reach.

Sam slumps his shoulders and leans back into the booth. Danny turns to him and chuckles slightly, “We have to go anyways, dumbass over here broke one of the brand new bass amps and his punishment tomorrow is getting up bright and early to fix it.” Sam tries to protest, saying he’s fine and can go another round or two, but the alcohol has settled quickly, his eyes drooping as he hiccups.

Danny rolls his eyes as he settles back on you and Jake, “You need to start paying me to take care of him or I’ll make Josh do it from now on.”

Jake groans, “no, I’ll cough up the money as long as I don’t have to hear Josh bitch and moan about how San cockblocks him constantly.”

“I am not a cockblock,” Sam mumbles out, half asleep and somehow still coherent. Jake and Danny laugh out loud, knowing all too well that this was untrue. They’ve all fallen victim to Sam’s drunk antics more than enough times to know cockblocking was one of the things Sam truly excelled at.

Danny grabs the younger boy by the arm, pulling him out of the booth and hoisting him up on his shoulder, “We’ll see you in the morning, Jake. Take care, love.”

You and Jake had not been dating long, meeting at the end of the Dreams in Gold tour when he was running out of a small guitar shop, knocking straight into you and spilling your coffee. Ever the gentleman he was, he immediately took you to the nearest store to buy you another outfit and another coffee on which he wrote down his phone number on the brown coffee sleeve.

Coming to Nashville had been a surreal experience for you, never one to just take a three week vacation from your job to travel, especially for any kind of partner and especially not one that you’ve only been seeing for a couple of months. But Jake was adamant, he wanted you to meet Danny and his brothers before they dove straight back into touring.

“I’m gonna close out the tab, little love.” he pecks your nose as he climbs out of the booth. You smile fondly at him as you grab your purse and phone, waiting for him to return from the crowded bar. When he comes back, he holds out his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

Piling out onto the streets of Nashville, he holds your hand thumb rubbing over yours every so often. His hands calloused and warm from playing the guitar, sets a fire alight inside your belly. It’s not that you didn’t wanna have sex. You definitely did, it’s really that you never had time. Jake immediately got off tour and started promoting another album, being thrust into the world of his job and you, well, you were not going to push it.

“Baby doll, what are you thinking about?’ He squeezes your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it.

“Me? Oh, nothing important. Just admiring the chaos of the city.” He smiles warmly at you, “I ordered the Uber down a couple of blocks, it’s just easier for them to be on the outskirts of downtown.” You hum and nestle into his side as you walk peacefully down the sidewalk, your moment of peace amongst all the hustle and bustle in a busy Nashville.

When you get into the Uber, you sit peacefully for 30 seconds, looking to Jake. “What’s up, my little love?” You don’t respond, choosing instead to kiss him. Jake groans into the kiss, quietly, as he tries not to alert the Uber driver, “we’re five miles away from the apartment, baby doll, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Who said I can’t finish?” You can’t see him, but you know without a doubt, his eyes have darkened and you notice a slight twitch in his jaw as it clenches. “My pretty little love…who’d have known you were such a bad girl?” His hands smooth up your thigh, slipping under the dress you put on for him and him alone. The Uber jolts to a stop and he slips the driver a $100 bill, mostly for an extra tip and partly as a thank you for not saying anything to the two of you for being sort of disrespectful. The walk to the elevator feels excruciatingly long. His hand rests on your back as he pushes you into the elevator, attacking you with lips on your neck and rutting his cock against your thigh. “You’re gonna be a good girl for me tonight, right? Gonna let me spoil you rotten?”

Your eyes roll back at his words, moaning out softly as he nibbles at your neck.

“My pretty girl…like a little praise, don’t ya?” You nod, panting. It feels a little overwhelming. He smells like whiskey and tobacco and that teakwood smell that you’ve come to know and love. “Jake,” you whimper out as his fingers come up to rub your clit over your panties. “I know, baby doll, I’ve got you. Don’t be loud in the hallway, princess.” He demands as he lets you go as the elevator doors open.

Your legs feel like jelly as you walk slowly out of the elevator, making your way down the hall to his apartment, a place you’ve been to hundreds of times before, but never like this, never for this moment. He comes up behind you, pressing himself into you as he unlocks the door and throws it open. “In,” he growls in your ear, your eyes widening, not in fear, but in excitement. He closes the door and sets his keys down, “go get on the bed, I’ll be right there, little love.” His voice is soft and calm. You journey back to his bedroom, his guitar propped up next to his nightstand, the lamp in the corner lighting up the room softly. You make a bold move and strip, leaving yourself in the panties and bra you bought for him, red like the color of his beloved Les Paul, wanting his thoughts on stage to be of you every night. As you lay down on the bed, you feel your nipples harden in your bra, suddenly feeling uncomfortable on your skin, squirming.

“Love…” you hear a whisper from the doorway, “what?”

You look to him, beautifully sculpted, his soft tummy, his beautiful thighs, his cock straining against the tight gray boxers.

“What are you so worked up for?” He comes over and hovers over you, making you feel small and protected, you giggle nervously. He shines a big smile at you. “Come on then, let’s have them off,” shaking you off any nerves by showing out with his British accent.

He runs his hand down your chest and grazes over one of the nipples as he pops the fastener on your bra, letting you take it off slowly, revealing your breasts to him. He groans out, “holy shit, baby doll, had I known they were fucking perfect, I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He dives his head down and laps at one of the nipples making you gasp out, lightly sucking and nibbling at it, your hips bucking up to chase any kind of friction as he plays with your nipples.

He moves slowly down your body, licking, sucking, being tortuous, “Jake…’

“Doll…” He speaks back, low as he removes your panties, “Jesus fucking Christ.” He licks at your slit, moving up to catch your clit on his tongue.

“Oh fuck, Jake.” You reach down to grab his hair, pulling slightly, pushing his face into your cunt more and more as he violently sucks and licks. He moves a hand up to push a finger into your soaked pussy, moaning lowly, causing vibrations on your clit.

You groan out, throwing your head back, as you close your eyes. He pushes another finger in, curling them to meet your spot, as he thrusts downward into the mattress to gain some friction on his cock.

“Jakey, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper out, making eye contact with him as he eats you out like it’s his last meal.

“Come on, little love, give it to me.”

The string in your belly pops, as your pussy tightens around his fingers and your arch your back, he swings his arm over your hips and keeps you still as you ride the wave. As you come down, you move up to grab at his cock.

“No!” he pushes you down, not harshly but enough to put you back into the mattress quickly. “I know, I know you want to, but you can’t, I’m so fucking hard it hurts and I’ll cum right in your mouth and I want that sweet little pussy wrapped around my cock more than anything right now.” He presses his forehead to yours as he guides you to push his boxers down, you can’t resist though, you grab him, hard and throbbing in your hand and stroke slowly. His eyebrows furrow as he pushes out a harsh breath against your lips, “what did I tell my sweet girl?” His body doesn’t seem to be as mad at you though, as he ruts his cock into your palm. You stop his hips and guide him down to your entrance. He slips his cock through your slit a couple of times, hitting your clit with his cock, making you jump at the overstimulation. He pushes his cock into you, slowly, making sure you’re ok with every move. “Please, oh God, Jake, please move!” He moves slowly, cock making wet loud noises as he moves almost all the way back out and slams into you. “God, your pussy is so nice and wet, shit, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” He thrusts steadily into you, making small little whimpers as his cock slides into you, your breaths coming out in small little huffs. “Not gonna last, I’m afraid, pretty doll.”

His eyes roll back as he drops his head into your shoulder, slamming harder into you, “yeah, you’re such a good little girl taking my cock like this, aren’t you? It’s like your pussy was made for me.” His hand moves up to your throat, tightening as you gasp out, his face coming out of your neck to speak, whispers ghost over your lips. “So wet and tight, poor girl getting just wrecked on my cock.”

You squeeze around his cock, “Jake, please. I want it so bad, want you to cum.”

“Yeah, and where does my little love want me to cum? Maybe on her belly, her ass, maybe inside this sweet little pussy?”

You groan out, “yes Jake, yes, please oh God put it inside me!”

“Perfect little slut wants me to cum inside her? Good girl, my perfect little love,” he drops two fingers down to your clit, “cum on my cock as I cum in you, milk my cock for everything it’s got, pretty baby.”

You close your eyes as your orgasm hits you, hard and fast, stars exploding behind your eyes as Jake groans loudly in your ear, cumming inside you.

He pulls out of you, slowly, watching you whimper, “I know, I’m sorry, don’t move,” he kisses your cheek.

He returns with a damp towel as he cleans you off and then wipes himself off as he climbs into bed, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into him.

“That was good, right? You don’t have any complaints?” You shift in his arms, facing him.

“Complaints? You mean to tell me that people have complained about Jake Kiszka, rockstar god, fucking them?”

He rolls his head away from you and laughs, “no, not really but I didn’t really wanna start now.”

“There’s that ego I fell in love with. You’re perfect, Jake. I love you.”

“I love you. Good night, my little love.”

[builtbybrokenbells]

belladonna | prologue

Too beautiful to resist, and too deadly to survive; the tragic tale of belladonna in all its glory.

Masterlist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of toxic family situations, swearing, smoking

Welcome to the show 🥰 I’ve been incredibly excited to share this with you, so stay tuned for more!

WHERE IT ALL BEGAN

When faced with the tragedy of remembering, it is often perceived as something beautiful.

After living a life as painful as your own, reminiscing on the past is neither easy nor enjoyable.

A deadbeat father, and a stepfather who was present yet absent all the same. A mother who was all but kind, and two brothers who were made fully responsible for all of your successes and failures.

From the moment you were born, life seemed to find every possibly opportunity to strike you down. Despite the relentless effort, you stood up, you kept going, and you survived.

You did not realize until you were much older, but surviving was the easiest part, and the difficulties most often lie within the aftermath. Picking yourself up while still struggling with knowing who you are proved difficult, but you managed to settle yourself into a routine and found a safe place to rest while you pieced together your own personality. Just when you thought you could finally put the burden down for a moment, you found yourself amidst the hardest challenge of all; living a life that was far different than what was destined for you, yet still plagued with the memories of the little girl who once ran so you could walk.

You spent every waking moment avoiding the memories housed in your brain, and when you could no longer avoid them, you crumbled to the ground as you faced them head on. You deconstructed every notion you had of yourself and rebuilt from nothing so many times that your head began to spin when you thought of it for too long. You became a stranger to avoidance, and you made friends with your own demons. Eventually, you made a life out of the hurt that once limited you.

At a diner off the edge of town, you worked night shifts and weekends to make ends meet while you spent the daylight chasing after a dream that you feared might never come true. You went home every night in the dark, the smell of the deep fryer still lingering on your clothes as you smoked as many cigarettes as the walk would allow. When the sun rose in the sky, you would drag yourself out of bed and sit in front of the large panel windows in your living room and write until your mind went numb.

Stories of everyone and everything, synopses of books you wanted to, but would never publish, and poems to air out your own, relentless thoughts. Journals sat around the room, stuffed so full of pictures and words that the spines were near broken. Single pages floated around the space, some with only one word, and some with so many that you could barely read it underneath the mess. You did not have a lack of imagination, nor a lack of patience; writing is a long process, and a good book will take years (That’s what you told yourself, anyway). You lacked inspiration, something to give you the motivation to keep writing and to keep trying, even if you failed. You needed something to write about, because recounting your own tormenting sadness and loneliness was becoming unbearable.

You searched in dive bars with cheap liquor, wondering if you would find meaning at the bottom of (another) empty bottle. You searched in coffee shops with signs that were faded and falling down. You looked for it at the supermarket, in the reds of the strawberries and the greens in the apples. Your eyes gazed up at the old city buildings, wondering if an idea would spark from the crumbling cement and moss-ridden stones. Sometimes, you would pick the sprouts of weeds from the sidewalks to bring home with you in hopes that their beauty, despite their nuis of the gray concrete jungle aesthetic, would flood your mind with some type of passion.

Not even a life blooming amidst the city's fascination with destroying anything green could pry your mind away from the same old boring topics. Months of searching left you with nothing, and eventually, you began to give up on the idea of a muse entirely.

In the serenity of the diner on one particularly late-night shift, cutting through the stagnant air and filling your lungs with a breath of hope, you finally understood that a muse is not something that you go in search of, but rather something that seeks you when the time is right. The laughter was so beautiful that it made your knees go weak and your chest ache for a moment. You wondered how someone could evoke so much emotion within you without you even seeing their face.

The time, of course, was perfect, but when you finally caught sight of the thing you had been craving for so long, you realized that you were not prepared for what the search would bring.

In the diner booth, huddled in the very corner of the building by the window onlooking the streets, sat a man who turned your whole world upside down in an instant. A tattered band shirt with the sleeves cut off and a worn out logo magnified his strong arms, and his curly hair hung down over his shoulders to frame his beautifully crafted face. His jawline was sharp, angling down into a soft chin, and although large, his nose was stunning. His eyes, even from far away, managed to make your stomach flutter with curiosity.

He did not notice you, but god did you notice him, sitting across from a faceless man with long hair, laughing at a joke that was shared between them. His company, although facing away from you, seemed like the louder of the two, and his character bled from him as he spoke. You could not even muster the strength to crane and look at his face, because whatever he looked like paled in comparison to his company. You felt frozen as you watched from the kitchen window, hanging on to every small expression and drinking in every beautiful laugh that fell from his lips.

The first night he visited the diner, you could not find the courage to speak to him, nor could you even bring yourself to walk out into the dining room while he was still sitting. Despite your lack of conversation, you ran home that night and did not get a second of sleep; your nose was buried in a journal and you were too busy pouring your heart out on the paper. You wrote more than you ever had, and with more emotion than you could ever muster before.

The nameless boy was everything you were looking for and more, and proved that a muse was more than a ruby red strawberry amidst unripe fruit, and much more than a measly weed growing between the cracks in the sidewalk. You had been aimlessly searching for inspiration within the inanimate without even considering the fact that the most profound words would be inspired by a living, beating heart.

You vowed that the next time he stepped foot in the diner, you would make your move. You would introduce yourself, smile and take his order as if he hadn’t completely changed your world without even knowing it. You needed more than an echoing laugh, and more than a glimpse from around the kitchen wall. You needed to know him, down to the very things that made his heart beat.

Firstly, you needed his name, and without it, you could not find any more passion. You had milked every opportunity from the miniscule amount of time you had been blessed with his presence (which, admittedly, was a lot).

You needed him in your life, and you needed more than you could even begin to comprehend, because after a lifetime dedicated to forgetting, you found something that made you desperate to remember.

Unfortunately, your life had proved that remembering would ultimately be your demise, and your unwillingness to forget him would turn out be your worst nightmare.

A muse is a source of inspiration in all forms, and the most deadly (and the truest) form of inspiration is a heartbreak greater than itself.

Daniel Wagner was in fact your biggest muse, and to be a true source of inspiration, he was also destined to be the biggest heartbreak you had ever experienced.

05.19.22

06.21.22

07.04.22

08.02.22

08.31.22

09.15.22

Character Guide

Y/N

Vincent

Dylan

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please fill out this form 🤍

[britcision]

Happy WIP Wednesday everyone! Hmmmm… What do I have for you today? Is it Danny’s question?

Nope! It’s Jason! ☺️ because I’m a bad person and I like making you all wait. I will tell you though, you’re getting Waylon’s answer from his own perspective, which is why Danny’s part cuts off where it did

———————

I’ll Take The Highway ii

Jason didn’t exactly object to being led out of the bar by Harley; Danny wanted to talk to Waylon in private.

Jason had figured Danny had something to ask the guy about. He hadn’t exactly expected not to be part of the conversation, but that was fine.

He’d know if Danny got into trouble. Fuck, Danny could handle any trouble Gotham could dish out, probably. And the rogues had some basic manners; not starting shit in Freeze’s place was one of them.

Penguin might put the squeeze on and make your life uncomfortable if you lit up the Iceberg Lounge. Dr Freeze’s cold shoulder was a lot more literal, and he didn’t do “proportional response”.

So yeah, he could be cool and give Danny some space.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Harley wanted to talk to him either, although he still didn’t see the point. But he let her guide him around the side of the building to a back alley anyway.

“Still fine, Harley,” he said before she could get started, both hands raised in front of him.

She gave him an all too knowing look and hopped up to sit on the dumpster. Put her about a head taller than him. Not that he cared.

“Sure, kid. You’ve been goin’ through a lot though, so I gotta ask; is there anythin’ ya wanna talk to Auntie Harley about?” She asked in her sweetest voice, interlacing her fingers under her chin and batting her lashes.

Jason snickered and leaned against the other side of the alley.

Shit, he wasn’t even annoyed with her play acting. The pit was a happy little puddle in his chest, all sunshine and roses.

A week ago he’d have walked away. Been pissed at wasting his time, getting in his way. How much of that had been because of the Lazarus pits, the problems with the ectoplasm he’d apparently been supposed to be solving?

Was that why nothing had ever been enough? Why he always had to keep pushing? Carve himself a patch of Gotham, keep going. Cut the crime out of Crime Alley, not enough.

Take up with the Outsiders, keep himself busy, rushed off his feet so that when he fell into bed for a couple hours a day he didn’t even dream?

When was the last time he’d taken a breath and just… relaxed? It all felt so long ago, but it had barely been a week.

It just. His whole life had unclenched, like it was a muscle he’d finally stopped using.

Fuck, maybe he should talk to Harley about it.

He got the feeling she knew though, those eagle eyes tracking his every move. They’d never really hung out, but he was uncomfortably aware of how well she’d known him.

How much of him was still the boy she’d known?

She was waiting for an answer, and all of a sudden Jason wasn’t sure what he’d say. Knew that if anyone in the world understood, it just might be Dr Harleen Quinzel.

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to meet her eyes. Fuck, he was getting as bad as Bruce.

And if that thought didn’t kick him up the ass…

“You ever wake up one day and realise your whole life’s been going wrong?” He finally asked, glancing up from the corner of his eye.

She’d dropped the cutesy act, leaning forward with her arms braced on the edge of the dumpster, her face professionally calm. Open. Sympathetic.

“Think I might know just a lil about what that’s like,” she agreed softly, and Jason snorted.

“Yeah. Well. Turns out ever since I came back from the dead I’ve been haunted. Literally. And no one ever noticed.”

He hadn’t even come all the way back, but he couldn’t say that. Not yet. But maybe he could share some of the rest.

Harley nodded slowly, giving him her full attention. Just waiting for him to go on.

It kinda felt like being under a microscope, but not in the cold, analytical way Bruce did that always pissed him off. Like she really cared, and was looking for all his broken parts so she could help him fit them back together.

Fuck, if his kid self had ever known he’d one day trust Harley Quinn over the whole Justice League…

Shit, he didn’t even know how much she already knew.

“The pit rage… it’s a psychosis people get, coming out of the Lazarus pit. Makes you angry, violent, stronger, like a blind rage. For most people it goes away. Mine didn’t.”

He almost wanted to laugh, bitter and sharp.

“Because it wasn’t just the psychosis. I’m not fucking weak, I’m not fucking broken, there’s something else living inside me and it made me so fucking angry all the time…”

The frustration was building again, but this time it was his. All his, not a bubble, not a stir, and part of Jason thrilled with it. He could feel however he wanted, just him.

He cut it off though, forcing himself to relax before Danny could notice. Could worry about whatever he was projecting in his aura.

He could kinda still feel Danny’s, which was new. Not brushing against his, not touching like they were close, but he was aware in a way he hadn’t been before.

Like if he shut his eyes he could point in exactly the direction Danny was standing.

“Danny’s the only one who noticed. Well, really, he’s the only one who could. It’s a ghost thing, and he… he got me help. I feel like myself for the first time since… since I came back.”

He hadn’t even noticed how much the background rage burnt through him until it stopped. Until he could look at his family and see their prodding for what it was; concern.

It was still surprising him, and maybe would for a while. Kinda hoped not though. It wasn’t the most cheerful train of thought.

Seeing that he’d run out of words, Harley gave him a moment to find more, then reached over and ruffled his hair. It was barely a strain in the cramped alley.

“Kid, anyone with two eyeballs t’ rub together can see Danny’s real good for ya. So why’s Bruce tryin’ so hard to keep ya apart?” She asked gently, and Jason snorted.

Rolled his eyes and folded his arms, caught himself doing it, and forced them back to his sides.

“Not rubbing his eyeballs together?” He asked dryly. Harley just snickered.

“Please, if we could get ‘im ta stop overanalysing everything that’d be the miracle. So what’s got ‘im on edge?”

Jason hesitated for a long moment, thinking about it. Finally he shrugged; as always, Bruce was a mystery to him. The man who’d taught him all the tricks to pick apart any mystery. Except himself.

“No idea. We played a prank on him and the Mansons at the gala like we told you last night?” He offered, already aware it wasn’t likely to be the answer.

Harley shook her head in agreement, which almost threw him off.

“Nah, you’re right. The whole making-out-in-a-closet shtick is classic, even if he didn’t see through it yet he’s never cared about you boys smoochin’ before,” she agreed, then sighed and tugged him in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Whatever his problem is though, it is his problem Jason, an’ what he pulled at the gala has nothin’ t’ do with you or Danny. I already told ‘im off about not talkin’ to ya and I’m gonna do it again when I catch him. Right now I just wanna hear you say you know it ain’t your fault,” she told him firmly, cheeks held between both hands.

Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes. And the rising lump in his throat.

“I know Bruce’s bullshit isn’t my fault, Harley,” he grumbled through smushed lips. Harley squeezed his cheeks a little tighter.

“Then say it anyway. It ain’t your fault Brucie has a bug in his ass, and ya ain’t done anything wrong to deserve it.” She was firm as the wall behind him, utterly unrelenting.

And she could go on for hours, if memory served. Long enough for Danny to come out and see. That was why Jason told himself he gave in.

Nothing at all to do with the way her words ached and bled a gentle warmth into the icy void in his gut where the anger still roiled.

“It’s not my fault B’s got the emotional capacity of a wet newspaper. I don’t deserve his helicopter bullshit any more than anyone else,” he told her obediently, doing his best not to be too sarcastic.

Harley placed a kiss on his nose and released him.

“That’s my good boy. Now, more about this haunted thing. You boys got a plan?” She asked sharply, head cocked as she watched his face.

Cheeks red, Jason leaned back against his wall and pretended it made him out of reach.

“We do,” he said curtly, looking down at the trash strewn ground. Trying to explain it now would take too long, Danny would be out soon.

Of course Harley noticed, nodding thoughtfully and leaning back, kicking her legs.

“Well, if ya ever want to tell me more, you’ve got my number. An’ I’ll get Brucie off ya back for a while, even if I’ve gotta call in the Boy Scout. Whatever you aren’t tellin’ ‘im, don’t let ‘im rush ya,” she told him firmly. Jason had to smile.

“Aren’t you the one always telling us to communicate?” He asked half rhetorically. Harley grinned and hopped off her dumpster, making her way to the front of the alley.

“It only works if ya wait til you’re ready. Pushin’ an’ rushin’ only makes it worse,” she explained airily, stepping out into the street.

Turning, and freezing like a hound on a scent. Eyes narrowed, she patted Jason on the chest as he stepped out after her, not turning her head.

“Jason darlin’, be a dear an’ run get Auntie Harley her bat. The bike’s parked ‘round the back,” she said ever so sweetly, and that tone combined with the narrow eyed glare meant Jason knew exactly who she was looking at before he turned.

He did it anyway, eyes widening as he caught sight of Batman, in full gear, coming down the street towards them. Accompanied by John Fucking Constantine.

Had he seriously come to chase him away from Danny in person? In fucking costume?

The anger surged, his and the pit’s, held back only by the small woman in front of him. The dainty hand on his chest, that’d turn into an iron bar if he pushed it.

Sure, she couldn’t actually hold him back, but she didn’t need to. Whatever Jason wanted to say or do to Bruce, Harley could do a whole lot worse.

Anger melding into a vicious satisfaction, he turned straight back down the alley with a spring in his step.

————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones s @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 5 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog g @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon n @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi i @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf

[jordie-gvf]

more than friends, jake kiszka

warnings : angst, fluff, language, arguing, allusions to sex,

word count : 1.7k+

melancholy by white cherry got me through this whole thing

Whenever Jake had gone out with the guys, he would bring you along with him. You never cared that he wanted to take you out, but half of the time he was either talking to the rest of the party or he was gawking at other women.

Tonight, you had all gone out for Jake and Josh’s birthday. You called the bar and made reservations for a table. 

No sooner did you sit down, Jake was already eyeing the waitress. You and Jake were not dating per se, but you were a little more than friends. Casual sex now and then, occasional midnight meet ups to smoke, but he had never asked to be more than that.

You were sitting next to Danny, who you had always been close with. Jake hated your relationship with Danny. 

Everyone knew you and Jake were seeing each other, but no one talked about it. Your waitress, Britt, came over and took everyone's drink orders and food orders.

Before she walked away, Jake grabbed her arm and asked her, “Are you on the menu, sweetheart?”

She laughed and said, “No, but I can make an exception for you.”

He smiled at her and let go of her arm, turning to look at her backside while she walked away. Danny had his arm wrapped around you, hanging it off the back of the chair. You nuzzled into his side and inhaled his musky vanilla scent. 

“Mm, Danny you always smell so good.”

He looked down at you and immediately knew what you were doing. He sniffed your hair and said, “Thanks cupcake. You smell good too. What is that, peach?” 

You nodded, “Yup! Peaches and cream,” and put your head back onto him. Britt came over with your drinks and told you the food would be out shortly. 

Jake looked her up and down again and you grabbed your phone from your bra. You went to Danny’s contact and texted him,

Daniel Swagner

Flirt with me?

I will not be partaking in flirting with you, Y/N.

Pleaseeee, I’ll do anything. I’ll clean your apartment.

You already do that whenever you come over anyway!

Just do it for me!

Fine, I guess I can pretend to flirt with my best friend to make her whatever you want to call him jealous.

:)

Britt brought your food out and told everyone to enjoy. She refilled drinks and had to reach over Jake to grab Josh’s glass. 

You knew that she was doing it on purpose, but she put her tits in Jake’s face. You swore you could see his eyes roll back. You decided to ignore it and ate your food.

You had all eaten and finished your food. Danny had been trying his hardest to flirt with you, but Jake wasn’t fazed. 

You all paid and went to leave, but Jake went up to the bar. He lingered for a few minutes and talked to Britt. 

He came back over to the group with a paper napkin in his hand. “Guess who just scored her number?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, so you just stood there, dumbfounded. Sam being Sam, had no idea that you and Jake were seeing each other. 

After Jake finished talking, Sam said, “You gonna call her tonight?”

“Hell yeah. I’ll tell her my door is unlocked.”

You grabbed your purse and flew out to your car. You wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as you could. 

Everyone noticed your speed walking to the car, but only Danny followed. You got into the driver's side and unlocked the car for Danny. Thankfully, you and Danny came together, or else you would’ve been alone.

He got in and you locked the doors, not wanting to be bothered by anyone else. You put your seatbelt on and turned to look at him, “Wanna go get ice cream?”

He nodded and put his seatbelt on as well. Before you left, you saw the rest of them filing out, Jake searching for your car. You very quickly started the car and sped off before he could approach you.

You and Danny arrived at Mimi’s and went inside hand in hand. You were waiting in line when Danny pulled you to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him and he kissed your forehead. 

You and Danny had always been close, everyone you ever met always thought you were dating. Danny had always expressed that the two of you would never be more than friends, that you were both comfortable with being friends.

Danny grabbed his phone out of his back pocket and recorded a little video of the two of you waiting in line, your head on his chest and arms wrapped around him. He typed something on his phone. He showed you and it said, “my favorite girl” with Mimi's location.

He posted it on his Instagram story. You two ordered ice cream and ate it inside. You finished and he threw both cups into the trash.

You two walked back to your car. Once the both of you were settled, you asked him, “Where to, Wagner?”

“Mi casa, por favor.”

“Been practicing the Spanish vocabulary I made you?”

“Every night.”

You smiled at the sweet gesture and made the drive to his home. You approached his apartment complex and he turned his head to look at you. He smiled at you and said, “I had so much fun tonight. We need to do this more often.”

You nodded, “For sure. I’ll text you tomorrow. Have a good night, Danny. I love you.”

“I love you too, be safe on the ride home.”

Once he was in his apartment, you started the trek home. When you got back to your house, you noticed that your living room lamp was on. You had your pepper spray in your hand, just in case. You had it pointed outward as you approached your front door. 

You opened the door and saw Jake sitting on your couch, looking more nervous than usual. Once he heard you come in, he shot up to his feet. You locked the pepper spray and put it back in your purse. 

“Y/N, hi. Can we talk?”

You nodded, took your jacket off and hung up your purse. He sat back down and you offered to get him something to drink. He said no and got up to follow you into the kitchen.

“You and Danny were close tonight.”

“We’re friends. Friends are close. Plus, the guy I sleep with five nights a week decided he wasn’t going to pay attention to me.”

“Really? I’m just the guy you’re sleeping with?”

“As of right now, yeah. Every time I bring up the dating thing, you shut me out. Remember the last time I told you I wanted to be with you? You left my house at three in the morning and I didn’t hear from you for two weeks.”

“Don’t turn this around on me, Y/N.”

You had walked out of the kitchen at this point and into the living room to sit on the loveseat. He followed you and sat on the couch. 

Jake sighed and continued, “You and Danny seem to be quite comfortable. Are you sleeping with him too?” 

You stood up and very offensively said, “Excuse me?” You continued,  “I’ll have you know, Danny and I are just friends. That is all we'll ever be, because I don’t love him the same way I love you! Yeah, I said it! I love you Jake. I love you even when you treat me like shit! I still love you after you go around and get some random waitresses' numbers.”

“You love me?”

“Did I not just say that five times?”

He laughed at your remark and said, “I thought we said no falling in love, did we not?”

“I can’t help it that I fell in love with someone who made me feel so special in one breath and then like nothing in the next. Riddle me this Jake, were you going to call her?”

“I thought about it. But then I realized I have you.”

“Not anymore, get out. Go call Britt. She can keep your ass.” 

You sat back down and refused to look at him. “Y/N, look at me.” He got off the couch and kneeled in front of you, giving you no choice but to look at him. You turned your head and saw his beautiful brown eyes looking at you. 

He took your hands into his and said, “I remembered I had you, and how happy you make me. Truth is Y/N, I love you too. I knew I loved you a long time ago. I never said it cause I didn’t know how you would react. I hate leaving you at three in the morning, because I love waking up next to you. I want nothing more than to wake up with you every morning by my side.”

Tears formed in your eyes and Jake wiped them away for you, “Don’t cry, Angel. You’re too pretty to cry.”

He went back to grabbing your hands and you leaned into his touch. You rested your forehead against his and he put his hands on the outside of your thighs. You sat there and savored the moment you had together. 

He stood up and you blurted out, “Please don’t leave!”

He leaned down and kissed you, “I had no plans of leaving you any time soon, Angel.” 

Jake extended his hand out to you and you grabbed it, lacing your fingers together. “Come on, let's go upstairs. We have stuff to do. A bed to break.”

You shook your head no and said, “Can we just cuddle tonight?”

He nodded and said, “Of course we can, Angel. You know I’ll never say no to cuddles with my favorite girl.”

He picked you up in his arms and carried you upstairs to your room. “So you saw Danny’s story?”

“Oh yeah, I saw it. Funny, I saw it right after I thought about calling her, but I had to get my girl back so I came here.”

He laid you down on the bed and took his clothing off. He went into his designated drawer and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He put them on and tied the drawstring. You were already in a dark brown sweatsuit from tonight, but you had taken your bra off in the car. 

Jake moved the covers and got in next to you. You cuddled into his side and sniffed his hair. “Is that my shampoo?” 

“Peaches and cream, Angel. Peaches and cream.”

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 5: Poltergeist

In which Danny meets Sam - Christopher's congenial manservant who is as strange as the rest of the mansion. Contains: ~3.6k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

Danny had fully expected Christopher to return and gloat like some swaggering, self-satisfied cat, with her the proverbial canary. But after leaving with Nathan, the giant didn’t even return to the room she was kept in��she could hear him speak, assumedly to Nathan, and she heard the front door open, but then the sounds of his huge, hulking footsteps seemed to disappear up the stairs and away, and she was left alone, angry, and utterly confused. 

She supposed she didn’t know what to expect, although none of the possibilities seemed good. What would a giant possibly want with a human, anyways? He’d said Nathan was to “remain in his service” as long as he “required” him. But what did that even mean? What could a human even do in a big-ass mansion like this? Cleaning the floor of even one room would be the endeavor of a lifetime. A month might get one baseboard cleaned, or the dust swept off a single counter. And surely, a rich prick like this had some sort of staff already, giant or otherwise. 

She wondered if the services Christopher “required” were less tasteful in nature, and her stomach recoiled at the thought. He hadn’t said anything that would imply as much—not yet, anyways—and surely, if he’d kept her here for some sort of entertainment, he’d be down here taunting her right now. 

The hours passed uneventfully, allowing the rage bubbling up within her to quiet to a low simmer as she mulled over her predicament with an idle sort of dread, trying to put the pieces together of who—or rather, what—Christopher really was, and what horrors the next month would entail. The only answer she got was silence. 

Whatever the case, her loathing for the giant only increased the longer she waited for something to break the monotony—and so when he did reappear later that night, with the bare remnants of sunlight outside the windows having long since faded into black, she was all too eager to pick a fight. 

“I see his majesty has seen fit to grace me with his presence,” she spat, rising quickly from her seated position on the floor of the cage to stand as tall and straight as she could, exuding as much pure detestation as she possibly could when her whole body was the size of this bastard’s finger. “Touch me again, and I’ll bite your fucking finger off. I dare you.” 

Christopher moved toward her with a frustratingly placid expression, holding what appeared to be a…tiny tray of food in his hand. She hadn’t been expecting even the bare minimum of decency. I suppose he realizes he has to feed the prisoners if he wants his entertainment alive. 

“I thought you would like something to eat,” he said simply. He slid the tray between the functionally redundant bars of the cage. It was much more crude and simple than the rest of the house’s furnishings, and it was laden with food that had been prepared for someone her size to consume. She didn’t know exactly what all of it was, but it appeared far nicer than the traditional prisoner’s meal of gruel and moldy bread. There was some sort of soup in a quaint little bowl, a sliver of bread that was clearly cut from a giant-sized loaf, and even what appeared to be some manner of fruit sliced small enough for her to eat. She could smell spices that she just knew were far too expensive for her or Nathan to ever have afforded, and she felt a quiver of hunger in response. 

She almost caved—but her lip curled into a snarl, and she looked up to meet Christopher’s eyes as rage burned inside of her. “I’m not hungry,” she lied.

He wasn’t fazed—he bent down so that he was eye level with her now. She might have been intimidated by the serious edge to his gaze if she wasn’t so fucking angry at him. “There’s no need to be stubborn, doll. I’m trying to be nice—the least you could do is accept my generosity.” 

His calmness was exceptionally irritating—the way he didn’t seem to even acknowledge the fact that he talked about being nice when she was literally in a cage, when he had literally imprisoned her here, and her friend before her, and just walked about like it was fine and normal and really, she should be grateful. She didn’t care if he was a giant, or if he could easily reach in and crush her in his fist without a second thought if he wanted. If she had no choice but to endure this place for a month to pay off some bullshit debt, then she was going to make this guy’s life hell in the process, giant or not.

She took a few tense, silent steps toward the tray, getting even closer to Christopher’s face in the process. She ignored the way he stared at her, purposefully making eye contact with him the entire time to spite the tiny part of herself that was internally quaking with fear. She slowly bent down to pick up the bowl of soup—a buttery orange color, perhaps made of some sort of squash if she had to take a guess. It smelled delicious, but her hatred had overtaken her hunger for the moment.

With nothing but stubborn silence to punctuate the action, she flung the contents of the bowl at Christopher—she’d aimed for his eyes, but he’d reacted quick enough to take the brunt of it along his hooked nose with a sharp, frustrated intake of breath as the hot soup splashed across his perfect, pristine skin. She tossed the empty bowl at his face, and it bounced off his nose to the floor. 

For a moment, he didn’t move at all—she could tell that he was forcing a frustrated grimace into a neutral expression. His eyes squeezed closed before he opened them again with a steely, dark sharpness to his gaze as they narrowed at her. His lips curved up into a tight smile. “I suppose you’re right. You’re clearly not hungry.” 

With a tense jerk of his wrist, he flicked off the majority of the soup from his face and took the tray back, rising back up to his full height and turning around to leave the way he’d come without another word. Danny didn’t offer any more insults either—she was satisfied for the time being.

She was still riding the wave of what she considered a small victory, reveling in how satisfying it was to make a mess of that giant, to know that the soup had likely stained the crisp white collar of Christopher’s fancy, expensive shirt as he’d flicked it off his face. But as a little more time passed, and she could no longer hear his footsteps near her, the pride ebbed to make way for the twisting coils of hunger and regret in her stomach. She’d left herself with nothing to eat besides the remnants of the soup that dripped along the bars of her cage.

With no giant for her to put up a brave front for, she lowered herself to the cold metal floor of her cage and curled up, hugging her knees to her chest.

It wasn’t the first time she’d gone to bed hungry, but it was no less uncomfortable than it had been all those years ago. And just like in all those unpleasant memories, she was alone. 

Or, well, so she thought.

She had almost forgotten about the strange voice that had led her into the house earlier, the identity of which had become a much less pressing matter once she’d met the mansion’s giant resident. But she’d only been lying down for a minute or two when she heard it again—in front of her, as if there was another human standing in this cage with her somehow. 

“Hey…are you okay?” 

She stood up quickly, turning around in a circle as if she could have possibly missed the fact that her cage had another inhabitant. It was still empty, of course.

“Where are you?” she asked dubiously, walking cautiously up to the bars of the cage to look down towards the floor—which gave her a rush of vertigo, but no clues as to where the voice could be coming from.

“Uh…” the voice trailed off. “I mean, it’s not really important. I just help with things around here.”

Danny raised a questioning eyebrow, increasingly suspicious of the lack of answers she’d gotten in regards to this person’s identity. “I just want to get a look at you, alright? Can I just see you?” 

There was a lengthy pause. “Okay, listen. I know you’ve had to deal with a lot of weirdness today already, so I don’t want to, uh, scare you more.” 

Are they some sort of monster too? Maybe an invisible one? Danny sighed, somewhat tersely. “I can handle it. I have enough questions to deal with already.” 

“O…kay then,” the voice relented. “Well, for starters, my name’s Sam. It’s nice to meet ya, Danny.” 

Danny only nodded, waiting for Sam to appear so that a proper introduction could take place. 

“And, well, you haven’t seen me because I, uh, don’t really have a body.” 

Doesn’t have a body? Are they…some sort of ghost? Is this place haunted? “So…you’re like a ghost or something?” she suggested, with a tone that was much calmer than the sentence should warrant.

“Well, I mean, kinda, but it’s more like, uh…well, the funny thing is, I’m kind of…the house.” 

Danny blinked, wondering if she’d heard right. She was quite certain she had, but the words didn’t make much sense in the order they were in. “What the heck does that mean?”

It seemed as though a breeze flew around the room, though all the windows were closed—the curtains rose and lifted as a wind that had come from seemingly nowhere passed by them in a sweeping motion. Danny could almost feel a slight tingle along her skin, like the strange wind passed by her, too. 

“I can move anywhere in this place, and I can sort of…well, I can control the furniture and stuff. Wanna see?” 

Danny, suddenly feeling even more uncertain, took a few steps back towards the center of her cage, as if that would play any part in keeping her safe. Though it didn’t sound like “Sam” had any malevolence in their suggestion. “Uh…sure…?” 

The pages of a book on a nearby table rustled slightly as an invisible force caressed them. A quiet creaking and groaning came from a source she couldn’t quite place, until she realized that the chair next to the table was moving, seemingly of its own accord. Its plush, elaborately carved arms began to curl outward and inward again, moving impossibly like an awkward, upholstered bird trying to flap its wings slowly. And then, as if the slight amount of movement had been nothing more than a warm up, the short, carved legs of the chair began to hop forward and backwards in a rhythmic little jig, moving almost as gracefully as if the still very chair-shaped chair actually had hips to sway back and forth. It didn’t even make much noise as it tap-danced along the tile floor, moving as lightly and delicately as if guided by the gentlest and most precise of puppet strings.

Danny watched the scene with her mouth agape, not entirely convinced her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, even after all the other strange things she’d seen in the past few hours. 

The chair’s motion stopped as it settled back into the same position it had been in before, no worse for wear and with no indication that it had just taken up a new hobby besides resting there quietly and waiting for someone to sit upon it. 

“Wait, wait! Hold your applause.” 

The voice emanated from the chair this time, or at least from the chair’s direction—sounding a little further away from Danny than it had been before.

The large rug that adorned the tile floor began to flutter its edges delicately, in a manner that suggested it was quite pleased with itself, before the entire thing lifted from the ground and twirled around in a proud spectacle. Danny could do nothing but watch in a state of bewildered shock as the giant, floor-sized rug spun around in midair—she vaguely remembered Nate telling her a story involving a magic rug once, but hadn’t ever imagined seeing one for herself, and certainly not one so impossibly huge. The carpet folded in a few select places in such a way as it moved that it was almost evocative of the way one might turn and pose as they admired their own reflection in a mirror. The fabric bent forward in what seemed to be a gentlemanly bow before it quickly unfurled again and settled slowly back into place, floating as lightly as a leaf in the wind before it took its place on the floor once again.

The mysterious (though now perhaps slightly more explicable) wind seemed to swirl around the whole room once again in a wide circle, rustling book pages and curtains in its wake—and this time, as it swept across the fireplace, a small flame flickered across the logs inside that quickly rose to a crackling blaze. All the lamps that hung on the walls lit up at once, casting the whole place suddenly into a bright, warm glow.

“...ta-daaa,” Sam exclaimed proudly from what seemed to be a painting on the wall to Danny’s left—a portrait of a rather serious man who looked like he would not be very amused at all with his visage being used as a prop for such a carefree, furniture-possessing apparition. 

Perhaps the thing inside of her that should have been scared or baffled beyond reason had finally snapped, because all Danny could manage was an amused grin that spread wider across her face as she looked around the room in awe. “...wow,” she breathed. “Okay, yeah, I didn’t see that coming. That’s…really cool, actually.” 

The portrait that seemed to be currently hosting Sam’s presence didn’t change at all—and indeed, the man it portrayed didn’t seem to be capable of an emotion outside the realm of grim and severe, but she could have sworn that the painting almost blushed. “Aw, thanks. Honestly, you’re too kind.” 

Danny’s head tilted in curiosity, now much more fixated on learning about Sam than she was with feeling discontent about her current living situation. “So…I mean, how did this…did you…how are you-”

“-it’s a long story,” Sam interrupted, “and frankly, I don’t, uh, remember most of it. The details aren’t really important. I’m just…well, I take care of this place. Always have.” 

“Oh,” Danny mumbled, somewhat disappointed. She slowly sat back down on her cage’s floor. “So you work for the giant bastard, huh.”

“...yeah. I’ve taken care of Christopher since he was a kid. It’s been just us here, for a long time.” Sam spoke a little quieter, and much closer to her, as if they were seated in front of her again. 

“Listen, I’m…sorry I didn’t tell you about your friend before. But it was pretty brave of you, to take his place like that.” 

By all rights, Danny should be angry at Sam too—especially since they had apparently been the one to lead them inside this mansion in the first place. They’d tricked her, hadn’t they? 

But she couldn’t find the will to be angry at this invisible anomaly. She was tired—weary from traveling all day, from hunger, and honestly, from the energy it had taken to be so utterly furious at Christopher for so long. And strange as this person was, Danny couldn’t sense any malicious intent from them.

She sighed heavily. “I guess you can’t do much if he’s the ‘master of the house,’ huh.” She spoke the words with a bitter edge to them. “It’s okay. You’re not the one I’m angry at. You didn’t lock me up in here.”

Sam didn’t reply at first, and when they spoke again, they sounded much more hesitant than before. “...Christopher…doesn’t have any ill will towards you, you know. He’s a little rough around the edges, sure, but he doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just been…well, it’s been a while since he’s had company.” 

Danny couldn’t help but give a scornful laugh at Sam’s flimsy attempt to justify Christopher’s behavior. “‘Company’? I’m a fucking prisoner. Do you see this?” she lamented, gesturing weakly around her at the cage. “‘Rough around the edges’ is a really funny way to describe a pretentious prick that makes a habit of throwing people in fancy little cages for his own amusement.”

It felt like the whole house sighed around her.

There was another brief moment of silence, and for a moment she thought that Sam had just left completely. But then their voice spoke up, with just a hint of mischief coloring its tone. “Well…you don’t HAVE to stay in there. Um…hold on.”

“Hold onto wh-AT THE HELL,” Danny cried as the entire cage began to move with her inside of it. From her current vantage point frozen in fear against the bottom of the cage, she couldn’t see much of what was happening below her, but it almost seemed as though the golden stand that had been holding the cage up had become a pair of slim metal legs, moving slowly and evenly across the floor to the open door at the other end of the room.

“Shh,” Sam whispered, their voice still coming from just in front of her somehow as the cage continued to move itself out of the room. Danny complied, her breath catching in her throat as she did her very best not to imagine what it would be like to slide through the bars of the cage to the floor very, very far below her.

The cage crossed the grand entryway before heading further down a different hallway, making all sorts of twists and turns before it stopped in front of a huge door. 

As the cage finally stopped, the room's door swung open silently, and the cage proceeded inwards. They had entered a large, ornate bedroom, with a huge four-poster bed in the middle of it hung with silken curtains and draped with plush blankets. The room itself seemed as though it hadn’t seen much use in a while—Danny could almost see the giant-sized dust motes floating around in the air—but it was still so incredibly elaborate, it felt like a privilege to even look at. She’d never seen such fluffy pillows in all her life, even if they were the size of soft, feather-filled houses. 

The cage bent down slightly, its legs creaking and twisting to lower the part with Danny inside to the level of the bed. The door to the cage popped open, the lock and the subsequent need for a key apparently ignored. 

Danny didn’t stay trapped in frozen shock for long—she eagerly took the opportunity that had been presented to her, scampering out of the cage and stumbling onto the huge expanse of the giant-sized mattress, all but falling into the unbelievably soft blankets that waited for her. 

“Oh! And wait there. I’ll be right back.” The cage moved back out of the room and the door shut behind it. Danny only had a few minutes to sit there in shock before the door opened again, and this time, a rolling cart entered silently. As it got closer to the side of the bed, Danny could see that it was transporting a comically tiny tray of food nearly identical to the one that Christopher had offered earlier. There were a few more plates of various, equally tasty looking foods to go along with it—even a tiny, human-sized tin cup of water.

The cart rolled to a stop right next to the bed, close enough that Danny could easily walk onto it if she’d wanted to grab the food. 

“See? You’re a guest. Anything you want, you just have to ask.” 

Oh, anything I want, huh? “I want to leave,” Danny grumbled.

It almost looked like the cart sagged a little bit, its metal handles bending slightly inward as if it was saddened by her request. “Well, anything inside the house, anyways. Really, this place isn’t so bad once you get used to it.”

The lamp on the bedside table lit up suddenly, illuminating the room. “I’m gonna lock the door, uh, at least for tonight. That way you can have a little peace of mind for now. And remember, if you need anything, just shout! I don’t sleep, you know. And I’m sorry we don’t have any, well, smaller rooms, but if you need to get somewhere, I can help.” 

It seemed like it should be a trick—but even if it was, she was too tired and hungry to care. Besides, it wasn’t so bad to accept the generosity of someone who seemed genuinely friendly, even if they did seem to be working for the same guy who’d tossed her in a cage only a few hours ago.

“Okay. Um…thanks, Sam. Really, I appreciate it.” She eyed the food suspiciously. “Though something tells me your boss wouldn’t really like you doing all this for me.” 

There was a slight pause. “You ought to give him another chance. He’s not as bad as he seems.”

Danny gave Sam a mirthless laugh. “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“Besides, he can’t get upset about you sleeping on a nice bed or getting a little food—you’re a guest! And besides, what’s he gonna do? FIRE me? HAHAHAhahaha—”

Sam’s laughter floated out of the room as the door shut behind them, disappearing down the hallway and leaving Danny seemingly alone again. 

She began to eat in grateful silence, ravenously stuffing as much food into her mouth as she could. It was all delicious, and not just because she was starving—genuinely, it was the best food she’d ever had in her life. All of this seemed a little too good to be true, but she didn’t care. Even if Sam did work for Christopher, at least they were nice. She still wasn’t sure what exactly was going to happen to her here—Sam suggesting that Christopher didn’t plan on doing anything malicious to her was not only hardly believable, it also didn’t answer any of her questions. 

But if she was going to spend the night alone in a strange place, worrying about Nathan and angry at Christopher, at least she could do it comfortably, on a full stomach. She was going to have to take whatever silver lining she possibly could. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Next chapter ->

Danny's not the only one in need of a pep talk. I think Sam probably needs to chat with Christopher, too. Tune in next week for chapter 6: Lessons in Futility!

And thank you for reading!

[e-dubbc11]

Never Again Pt. 3

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Some swear words, alluding to smexy time, violence, some fluff

Word Count: 3.9k-ish

Summary: Part 3 of 3. You’ve been staying with Brock for about 2 weeks since your ex tracked you down, and you’re trying to figure out what to do next because it’s only a matter of time before he finds you again.

Part 1

Part 2

A/N: I had such a good time writing this series, and I appreciate the 6 of you that have read it. 🤣 I’m kidding, I’m kidding 😆 It won’t deter me from writing for Brock again, he’s fun to write for, plus have you seen him? 🥵 I had a hell of a time figuring out how to end this, it was giving me some problems but I hope you like it! ♥️ Oh and I have an ask for Billy that should be out REAL soon! Ok I’ll stop.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The dream you were having wasn’t exactly exciting. The dripping candles in the middle of the table, the crisp white tablecloth, and the dim lights of the restaurant were all very romantic.

Brock looked very handsome in a suit, he wasn’t wearing a tie but it didn’t suit him anyway, the top buttons undone, and he was taking a sip of his whiskey.

“What’s so funny, doll?” He asked.

You continued to chuckle. “I don’t know why you brought me here, Rumlow. You look so uncomfortable right now.”

“Well I thought I’d take you somewhere nice for our first date. You don’t like it?” He asked.

You continued to smile. “Oh I like it fine, clearly you don’t though.” You said, taking a sip of your red wine.

“But it’s not for me, it’s for you.” He said.

You reached across the table to touch his hand. “Well it’s very sweet of you, Brock but I would have been happy with bar food and a cold beer.” You said.

He looked down at your hand as your fingers brushed against his knuckles and brought his gaze up to meet yours. “I’ll remember that for next time, sweetheart.”

This dream was a lot different than the nightmares you had been having. Seeing Danny’s fist coming straight for your face, you could almost feel his fingers squeezing your upper arms, and the pain in your side when he pushed you into the bookcase. Everything felt so real, like the tears streaming down your face as you begged him to stop.

From the violence to all of the apologies, they played on a loop in your mind. You remembered all of the flowers and gifts he brought you and when you thought about it now, you felt so stupid for taking him back all of those times.

Back then, you felt weak, defeated, and worthless but you had become strong enough to leave, not take it anymore and for the first time in your life, you felt strong and in control of how you wanted to live your life.

It had been a long couple of weeks. The tension between you and Brock finally coming to a head earlier tonight and letting go of that tension that sparring couldn’t get rid of. He fucked that tension right out of you and you couldn’t remember the last time you had been that calm or relaxed.

The man was absolutely crazy about you.

You tried to make tea after the shower but as soon as Brock saw your nightshirt creep up to reveal your panties reaching for the box of tea, he was all over you.

The loud sinful noises he continued to pull from you over and over again echoed inside his apartment, you were starting to feel bad for his neighbors for having to listen to it all.

You felt like your entire body was trembling from overstimulation coming down from your high but you managed to ask him, “I may have a hard time walkin’ tomorrow. How much tension were you holding onto, anyway?”

“I’ll admit, at first I didn’t wanna like you but I hated seeing those marks on you, that bruise around your eye made my blood boil and to see how determined you were to learn because you didn’t wanna be afraid anymore. You impressed me, sweetheart and that ain’t easy to do.” He had said.

You imagined that no one else really saw the sweet side of Brock that you had witnessed the past two weeks. The moment he came home with supplies for Peanut, you knew that he was soft but only a little.

You had even caught him petting the cat a couple of times.

“Were you just petting Peanut?” You asked, the corner of your mouth curled up revealing half a smile.

He turned to face you and even though he was caught, he denied it.

“No!” He said, emphatically.

“Because from here, it looked like you were scratching him behind his ears.” You had said, trying to control your laughter.

“Well I wasn’t.” He said.

“Ok, then why is he rubbing up against you and purring? He doesn’t do that unless you pet him first.”

“I dunno.” His gaze aimed at the floor.

You walked over to him slowly, he was facing away from you. Snaking your arms around his waist you pulled him flush to your chest, pushed yourself up on your toes and kissed him on the cheek.

“Whatever you say, Rumlow.”

Falling asleep in an unfamiliar location was difficult but being able to dream and remember that dream was against all odds but you had managed to do both sleeping next to Brock.

You hummed against his chest as he laced his fingers with yours, trying to keep your eyes open but your eyelids just became heavier and heavier.

“So I’m guessing I don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore?” You joked.

You felt him smile against the top of your head. “Not unless you want to, doll.”

“Well I don’t want to.” You said.

He rolled on top of you, his hips in between your legs, and gazed at you with his warm golden eyes. “I don’t want you to either. Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He said, his voice sounding extra raspy as he swept a stray hair away from your face and kissed your forehead.

As soon as he said that, your eyes closed and were too heavy to open again. It felt like you had just closed your eyes when you felt the hand clamp over your mouth. Your eyes shot open and struggled for a brief second when you heard Brock’s voice.

“It’s just me, doll. It’s just me. I need you to be quiet, do exactly as I say and keep calm for me, can you do that?”

You nodded slowly as you tried to adjust your eyes to the darkness.

“Someone’s here.” He whispered in your ear.

Brock slowly moved his hand away from your mouth, reached under the bed and pulled out one of his guns. You started to get out of bed when he stopped you, whisper yelling at you to stay put even after you offered to help.

“Stay there, do NOT move!” He whispered again.

You nodded again.

Carefully, he moved over toward the bedroom door, you could see the faint warm glow of the kitchen night light and then he was gone.

Suddenly, you heard a crash, followed by a struggle and incoherent yelling before you clearly heard a voice yell, “RUMLOW!!! IT’S ME! IT’S JACK…ROLLINS!!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!! I could have shot you, asshole!” Brock yelled.

He called out to you from the other room. “It’s alright, y/n!”

Quickly, you threw on some sweats and walked out into the other room and saw a tall angry looking man standing next to Brock.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Jack?! And how did you get in here anyway?!” He asked and then glanced in your direction. “Oh, y/n…this is Jack Rollins. We work together…Jack, this is y/n…we, uh, sleep together.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks, you were flushed with embarrassment as you covered your eyes and reached out to shake Jack’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” You said.

“Likewise.” Said Jack before turning back to Brock. “Your phone was off and Fury needs us for something, he didn’t say what. And I still had your key from when you were away and you wanted me to water your plants.”

You started to chuckle and bit down on your thumb. “You don’t have any plants, Brock.”

“Not anymore, thanks to this guy!” He said with a raised voice.

You continued to laugh and finally took a good look around. “Well you two made a hell of a mess, didn’t ya?” You said.

“He’s lucky I didn’t fuckin’ shoot him. I should shoot him anyway just for scaring you.” Brock said in a disappointing tone, glaring at Jack. “Lemme just get my stuff, hang on. Will you help me, doll?”

“Sure.” You replied, following him to the bedroom. “Where’s the bag with all of your--?”

Brock turned, pulled you in flush to his chest as his lips crashed against yours. His lips parted and his tongue glided against yours making it difficult to catch your breath.

His touches sent tremors of pleasure down your spine. Your breath was caught in your throat and you could only let out a muffled gasp as he kissed up and down your neck and throat.

“Not that I mind but what is all this for?” You asked, gently tugging on his hair.

He pulled back to look at you. “Just sayin’ see ya later.”

“Oh, ok.” You said with a wink.

“I want you to keep this with you.” He said, placing the gun in your hand. “I’ll let you know how long I’ll be and when I’ll be back, hopefully it won’t take too long.”

Jack called out from the other room. “Come on Rumlow, we gotta go! Fury’s gonna be pissed!”

“I’ll clean up the mess you two made.” You said with a warm smile.

He smiled back. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but when Fury calls, I gotta answer.”

“Are you ever gonna tell me what you do?” You asked in a joking tone.

He kissed the tip of your nose and said, “Maybe.”

“I gotta find Peanut, you two probably scared the shit outta him…be safe, baby.” You said, gently pressing your lips to his.

Brock turned and walked out of the bedroom, leaving you alone for you weren’t sure how long. “I’ll see you soon, doll.”

Before they closed the door behind them, you heard Jack say, “Dude, she is super-hot, does she have any single friends?”

His comment caused a smile to stretch across your lips and you smiled even bigger when you heard Brock’s response. “No, let’s go…you wrecked my house. Get out, now!”

The door closed behind them and you were alone with a mess to clean up and a cat to find.

**********

You decided to wait until the next day to clean up the mess Jack and Brock made. It was late so you stuck the gun under the bed next to you and tried to get some sleep.

You did end up finding Peanut and he slept in the chair Brock had in the bedroom, but it was a little lonely sleeping by yourself.

The next day was spent cleaning up and you even went further cleaning his entire place which wasn’t a complete disaster considering he lived alone.

Brock texted to say he would be back later that night so after you had finished cleaning, you spent the day cooking and even baked some cookies.

You did remember to bring the gun with you to every room you went into even while you were taking a shower.

As you sat on the couch watching a movie, your mind wandered and you were lost in a daze thinking about last night, thinking about Brock touching you, kissing you, and leaving a trail of love bites that only he could see. Goosebumps peppered your skin as you clenched your aching thighs together thinking about it all.

You wanted him home.

Three quick raps on the door snapped you out of your daydream. Without thinking, you walked over to the door and threw it open, as you said, “Did you forget your keys, baby?”

Standing in the doorway was Danny. You tried to slam the door shut but he pushed his way through.

“Hey beautiful. You shouldn’t open the door for strangers.”

You pulled the gun Brock gave you and aimed it between his eyes. “Get outta here, Danny and I won’t have to shoot you.”

Just then, Peanut jumped onto the counter and started meowing.

“Ah, there he is.” Said Danny, walking over toward him.

He leaned down to give him a pet and Peanut swiped at his face, scratching him above the eye. Danny cried out in pain and touched the cut the cat just gave him.

“I told you he never liked you.” You said with a slightly wicked smile, still pointing the gun at him. “Now, get out!”

“You just gonna shoot me, y/n? You don’t wanna try and put those fighting skills to the test? You got lucky last time, knocking me out with the freezer door. Put the gun down, lemme see what you can actually do.”

The day you met Brock, you remembered what he said to you before your first training session. “Leave those bruises uncovered. I want you to take one more look at them because after I’m done with you, those will be the last set of bruises he’ll ever give you.”

You switched the safety on and set the gun on the kitchen counter behind you.

Danny was never going to stop coming after you, he was never going to leave you alone, and you realized that this has to end. It has to end tonight, you didn’t want to have to look over your shoulder anymore when you walked down the street or wonder if he was going to show up at your door again.

You were tired of running and you were going to make him leave.

Brock said you were strong, one of the strongest people he’s ever trained and you didn’t want to let him down or more importantly, let yourself down.

He knew you were very capable of taking down someone larger than you, and that fierce look you had in your eyes when you kicked Brock’s legs out from underneath him.

It excited you and gave you the confidence you desperately needed and the confidence Brock was trying to give you every time you trained together. Rage burned throughout your body, it felt like white hot fire and something inside you just snapped.

You took two steps toward him, took a swing and landed a punch to the nose. Danny’s eyes began to water and his nose started to bleed. His only response was to laugh and when he was done laughing, he said, “Now that’s more like it.”

**********

While Jack was driving back to the apartment, the feeling Brock had in the pit of his stomach was a feeling of uneasiness like there was something wrong back at home. He didn’t want to leave you even just for the day he was gone, not because he knew you couldn’t take care of yourself but because he…missed you.

He had grown to care for you in the past six months and even more so in the past two weeks since you had been staying with him.

“Drive faster, Jack.” Brock said sharply. He had a piercing dryness in his throat which made it difficult for him to swallow.

“I’m goin’ as fast as I can, I’m sure she’s fine.” Jack replied.

Softy and under his breath, Brock said, “I hope so.”

He remembered the day he met you, the pale greenish-yellow bruise on the top of your cheekbone, and the bruises around the tops of your arms…he remembered how angry it made him, how it caused his muscles to tighten and his face to flush with rage.

Brock could tell you were nervous to talk to him. He was hyper aware of how scared you were to even approach him, but also how it took a lot of guts to do that.

You didn’t even lie about why you wanted to learn from him, not that you could with the bruises that were visible.

He didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to relationships, or even friendships for that matter but he knew that he cared about you and couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong at home.

And he was hoping that he would get to you before it was too late.

**********

Once you started landing punches, it was difficult to stop. Danny tried countering but he was predictable. You knew his patterns of how he would go about trying to hit you or grab you, trying to make it so you didn’t get up again but you weren’t going to let him.

Brock was right. There WAS a lot of blood in the face.

With every crack to his body, he would let out a loud groan and wince in pain, yet he would still try and come for you. You didn’t need the help of a freezer door to subdue him this time and you didn’t need to run either.

Using duct tape and rope, you tied him up so he couldn’t escape. A piece of tape also went over his mouth in case he came to and decided to try and call out for help.

“He said he was on his way.” You whispered to yourself. “Please don’t wake up yet.” You said, pointing the gun in Danny’s direction again. “Please don’t wake up.”

Even though the apartment was warm, you felt cold and your teeth chattering together sounded like tap shoes against a dance floor. Wiping the sweat off of your upper lip, the taste of salt and blood danced across your tongue although it wasn’t your blood you were tasting.

It was Danny’s.

Looking around, there was blood and broken glass everywhere and when you looked at Danny’s unconscious body, that’s when you finally let go. Your eyes welled up with tears and you broke down sobbing.

Everything you had been feeling up until that point, all of the anger, frustration, hurt and betrayal hit you all at once like a wave crashing against the shore.

He wasn’t going to do this to you or anyone else ever again.

**********

Time seemed to stand still before you heard your name being called from the other side of the door followed by a few quick knocks.

“Y/n? Sweetheart, it’s me and Jack. I’m gonna open the door.” Said Brock.

They were stunned to see the state of the apartment and a man lying unconscious and tied up on the floor, his face slick with blood.

Their guns were drawn when they opened the door but quickly put them away when they saw Danny.

“Check him!” Brock said with a deep growl to Jack as he rushed to your side.

“He’s alive but he is OUT!” Rollins said.

He was a little difficult to make out because the tears in your eyes made him blurry but as soon as he got to you, Brock brushed the tears out of your eyes, told you to put the gun down, and pulled you close to his chest.

He pulled away to look you over. “Are you hurt?” He asked, gripping your face by the chin and turning it from side to side and looking at your neck.

Danny did get one hit in, he managed to cut your lip and your knuckles were badly bruised and sprinkled with tiny cuts but other than that, you were unharmed.

“Lemme see your hands.” He took your hands in his and saw how badly they were marked up. “You’re gonna need some ice or they’re gonna swell.”

You heard the faint moaning sounds of Danny waking up and watched him struggle to free himself but getting nowhere.

Brock’s face stiffened and suddenly his eyes glowed with a savage fire as he pulled his knife from its sheath, walked over to Danny, pulled him up by his hair, and held the knife to his throat.

“I oughta kill you right now, you piece of shit!” Brock shouted in Danny’s ear.

“Brock, don’t!” You pleaded.

He flicked his gaze over to you and you could see in his golden eyes that he wanted to. He wanted to open Danny’s throat and spill his blood all over the floor. Brock’s lip curled back to reveal gnashed teeth, trying so hard to reel in his anger.

“Please. Put the knife away, Brock. He forced his way in here, let’s just call the police.” You said softly. “I’m ok…really.”

After you hung up with the police, you watched Brock put his knife away and shove Danny’s head forward so hard that it made a “thud” noise against the floor.

Your mouth narrowed to a fine line. “Was that really necessary?” You said in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Brock pointed down at a bloody Danny and asked you, “Was THAT?! You beat the shit outta him, doll.”

“Yes I know I did.”

Brock pulled Danny by the hair again. “You are never gonna bother her again. I’ll kill ya myself if you come near her, tell me you understand, asshole. TELL ME!!”

Danny tried to nod but Brock was still holding on to his hair and he still had the tape over his mouth but he managed to let the both of you know that he understood.

“Mmmm hmmm…” He mumbled.

The police took Danny away and said they would be in touch. Watching him being led away in handcuffs gave you a sense of relief, like for the first time in a long time you could exhale and just…be happy.

Brock never took his eyes off of you. After the cops left, he gently touched your shaking hands. His hands felt warm against your cold skin as he pulled you in close to his chest.

You could hear his heart racing as it beat rapidly against your ear and the fabric of his t-shirt felt soft against his cheek.

“I swear the apartment was clean before all this.” You said, cracking a smile. “I’ll pay for everything I broke, just let me know—“

Brock interrupted and captured your lips in a soft kiss, his stubble scratched against your chin and cheeks, and his hand migrated to the back of your neck.

He held onto you tightly, like he never wanted to let you go.

“You know I don’t care about that. I’m just glad you’re safe, sweetheart.” Brock said, kissing your forehead.

Jack looked over at the two of you with a confused look on his face.

“Wait…so y/n can break a bunch of your shit and gets a pass but you’re still mad about me killing a few houseplants?!” He exclaimed.

Brock gave you a wink.

“She’s a LOT prettier than you are, Rollins! And since you brought it up again, how ‘bout you replace the plants that you killed…right now.”

Jack was trying to stop Brock from pushing him further down the hallway.

“Right now?! Ok well, if I get you new houseplants, will you ask her if she has any single friends?” Asked Jack.

A wide smile stretched across your face and you let out a slight chuckle.

“I’ll think about it, now get out of our house.” He said.

You felt your heart jump into your throat.

“Our house?” You asked.

Brock gave you a devilish smirk. “If you want it to be, I kinda like havin’ ya here.”

“Oh, just kinda huh?” You said with a laugh.

“Yeah, plus you’re a much better cook than I am, doll.” He said.

You raised your eyebrows in agreement. “Well, I can’t argue with you there Rumlow, I don’t know how you manage to mess up scrambled eggs but you do.”

He gave you his signature subtle smile and closed the distance between you. His presence was solid and reassuring as he tilted your chin up and tenderly pressed his lips to yours.

“So what do ya say, doll? Will you stay?”

You returned his kiss before telling him with a smile, “Yes Brock, of course I’ll stay.”

Others that might enjoy: @munsonownsmyass @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @qu1etwolf @redstarsandnightmares @gijos @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @randomlittleimp

[thebubblesareevil]

Am I dead?

Okay so Danny goes out drinking for his 21st birthday and ends up drunk off his ass. The trio are bar hopping all night but at one point Danny goes missing. He got distracted and somehow ended up in a bar under the sea (don’t travel through portals while drunk kids). Anyway everyone is kinda weirded out by this man who is speaking English and they call for some guards because he is clearly intoxicated and they’re not sure what to do with him but when they try to escort him out he thinks they’re trying to fight him and so he beats them up. Kaldur (who was visiting home) hears the commotion and goes to intervene. The room is chaos when he enters the room and someone asks Kaldur to help. Kaldur slowly approaches the stranger who turns around, looks Kaldur straight in the eyes and says “holy shit Am I dead?” Before Kaldur can reply the stranger continues “wait of course I’m dead, and you must be an angel. What the heck did I do to meet an angel. I didn’t even know angels were real but here you are. I’ll have to ask dad about angels when we get to the other side.” Meanwhile everyone around is trying not to laugh at this drunken idiot who is causing the kings apprentice to blush. Kaldur asks what the strangers name is and how he got there and he stops for a moment and thinks he says his name is Danny, not Daniel, not danno, and most definitely not Dan, just Danny please. With his head propped up on his hand leaning on a table he then asks if he could have his name Kaldur tells danny his name and is surprised when he says his full name flawlessly. Kaldur then turns to one of the guards that has picked himself up and tells him in Atlantean that he’s going to take him to the hospital to see if they can sober him up.

Danny jumps up at that knocking over the table which he just stares at for a moment before he says in Atlantean “no no no, no hospitals,” Kaldur, surprised, tells him that he needs to go to a hospital so they can figure out where he came from. Danny walks right up to him and pokes him in the chest and says “nope, no hospitals, it’s not like they can help me remember? I’m already dead!” Kaldur laughs and says be that as it may he needs to sober up. Danny, still poking Kaldur in the chest, asks “then why can’t I go with you, your my angel right? So I’ll go with you.” Kaldur pinches his nose while the guards and trying desperately not to laugh in the background. Kaldur finally agrees after much back and forth to let Danny stay in his guest room. Danny cheers and then asks Kaldur if he would carry him because his legs are just sooo heavy.

Kaldur is questioning his life choices.

Danny wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache looks out the window and sees water. He is not as freaked out about that as he should be. No it’s the fact that he’s in a bed underwater that is the concerning part. He tries and fails to sneak out when he gets caught by Kaldurs mother who then invites him to breakfast. Danny of course accepts because hey free food. Kaldur joins them and asks how he’s feeling this morning. When Danny looks over at Kaldur he nearly chokes, manages to swallow his food and (in true milo thatch style) says pretty boy, pretty GOOD doing pretty good. Kaldurs mom is very amused. Kaldur invites Danny on a walk and asks if he could explain how he came to be in Atlantis. Danny laughs for a few seconds and then a just like no seriously where am I?

Kaldur repeats that he is in Atlantis that the night before he got into a fight in a bar and he refused to go to a hospital, in Atlantean. Danny’s like the language thing I get I speak a lot of languages. Its the Atlantis part I don’t get, because last he checked Atlantis was destroyed by a giant alien starfish around 32 B.C.

Kaldur stares at Danny and Danny stares right back, before saying I think we need to go see the king. Danny nods and the two of them go to leave,

The two of them head to the castle and the talk on the way, Danny asks what happened the night before and Kaldur explained exactly how hard Danny was flirting with him. Danny turns a bright red and chuckles replying that at least drunk him has excellent taste in men. The two of them talk (and flirt) the whole way there. Once they explain what’s going on it’s decided they would go to see the justice league to consult with their magic users. Danny at this point is really confused but is pretty sure he’s figured out what’s going on so he asks who exactly the justice league is and they all look at him like he’s crazy he’s like I guess they’re a big deal huh and rubs the back of his neck. Whelp its official I’ve stumbled into another dimension. Kaldur leads him to a zeta tube and Danny just straight up says no just no that’s not happening. Been there done that died and come back no thank you. Kaldur insists that it’s perfectly safe and asks if he wants him to go first and Danny shouts NO and pulls Kaldur away from the zeta tube. Kaldur and aquaman look at each other before Kaldur suggests that he close his eyes and he would guide him through the zeta tube. It takes a bit of convincing but Danny finally agrees and Kaldur takes his hand and leads him through the tube. They arrive in mount justice where the magic users in the league had all gathered.

Danny is in the middle of a panic attack and there are glowing Lichtenberg figures crawling up his neck as Kaldur slowly helps him calm down with the aid of an incredibly adorable giant wolf named wolf who was just the cutest thing in the world (Conner greatly approves of this). Danny thanks Kaldur and wolf, and then he is brought over and introduced to the rest of the team. Dr fate is suspiciously absent however both Zatanna and Shazam comment on how his aura looks weird, like it’s been touched by death. Danny says that makes sense but doesn’t elaborate. They are all trying to figure out where Danny has come from and how to get him back and Danny says that he honestly has no idea he was celebrating his 21st and the next thing he knew he was in another universe waking up in Atlantis. The debate goes on for a bit and Danny just focuses on Kaldur, he asks him what made him want to be a hero and they end up talking about how Kaldur came to be aqualad.

They all decide to take a break and some of the leaguers decide to approach Danny to ask him some questions. It’s when green lantern comes up to him and says that’s an interesting ring you got there that Danny stares at his hand for a full minute before getting up and repeatedly smacking his head on the wall, cursing all the while. Kaldur asks if he would care to explain why he’s trying to put a hole in the wall and Danny looks right at Kaldur and says “in my defense I was drunk, I am hungover, and there has been a very handsome man distracting me this whole time.” Batman demands an explanation and Danny tells them how this is the ring of rage which has the ability to create portals and how he didn’t even remember putting it on. It looks like while he was drunk he decided to try getting home with a portal and entirely missed the mark, in his defense he’s only had it about a month. Several people looked at Danny like he was an idiot but he just shrugged it off

Danny the raises his hand in the air and concentrates on the ghost zone. A large green portal appears and Danny rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “sorry about all that umm— but before he can continue something comes flying out of the portal smacking Danny in the face only to be revealed as a boomerang? Danny stops for a moment before screaming GANGWAY!! And pushing Kaldur out of the direct path of the portal. Just in time as a large ship comes crashing through. After things settle and Danny has gotten himself and Kaldur up the door to the ship opens only for Danny to once more be knocked to the ground by an overexcited green puppy. Who licks Danny relentlessly before getting distracted by wolf.

In the meantime 3 people exit the ship 2 of which are wearing dark sunglasses. The one wearing a full body red suit charges up to Danny yelling FENTON!! And immediately starts scolding him about disappearing like that and what the hell did he think he was doing. The tall goth woman tells “Val” to quite down that if his head hurts half as bad as hers it’s punishment enough. Danny says thanks to his friends for looking for him and then introduces them to the league. He looks like hes about to continue talking when Tucker cuts him off and says “dude as much as I’d love to stay and chat with real live super hero’s we got to go if the fright knight doesn’t go on a rampage soon your sister will.” Danny looks mildly offended and says “excuse me what am I chopped liver?!”

Tucker looked him dead in the eye and says “I said LIVE superheroes, last I checked you only half qualify” Danny laughs and says fair enough Kaldur questions this and he says that he is in fact dead he told him last night remember? But only half he’s half alive too. Danny calls cujo over but hesitates before making a new portal. He turns to Kaldur and says cujo is absolutely devastated that he has to leave his new friend. Kaldur laughs and says “is he now” danny replies that yes yes he is and would you guys mind if he stopped in every now and again so cujo could have play dates. Kaldur hesitates so Conner jumps in and says that wolf would absolutely love that, kaldur smiles and agrees. Danny gets a huge grin on his face and say awesome it’s a date! He then picks up cujo and says okay buddy I’m not sure if I’m good to fly right now and I gotta lead us home wanna be my noble steed? Everyone looks confused but cujo gives a bark and Danny laughs and sets him down he runs around in a circle before sitting Danny says good boy now grow! And before everyone’s eyes the small (adorably dopey) green dog has turned into a huge serious hound more than twice the size of wolf… who then rolls on his back for some well deserved belly rubs. Danny’s friends board the ship but not before Sam comes up to Kaldur hands him a phone apparently can reach him at anytime so long as he’s in the ghost zone, and parts ways with a friendly threat not to hurt he friend.

Danny climbs on cujos back and they give one last goodbye before leaving through the portal.

Dr fate arrives moments later and is asked what took him so long he only says that it is against the lords of orders rules to willfully interact with the king of the infinite realms. Dick gives Kaldur a big slap on the back and says you hear that looks like you got a date with a king!

Kaldur smiles looking at the green phone in his hand and says “yes, it seems I do”

Okay this got way out of hand this was just supposed to be a prompt, a PROMPT i tell you a PROMPT but it evolved far beyond what it was supposed to be

It’s still a prompt though so if anyone yknow wants to write this in a less chaotic and more thought out fanfiction I would love u forever!! Okay I need sleep have a good night!!

[gilbirda]

Anger Management meet-cute idea:

Jazz is moving into her new place at Gotham U, and Danny's helping her out. They're unpacking her stuff from the car (it's actually Jazz's but Danny will use it for the story so it's his now) when this biker dude parks nearby. Yup, that's Jason Todd, who's got that tough look going on, with his black jacket and his "don't mess with me" vibes.

Anyway, when they're heading inside the building, Jason held the door open for them, and turns out Jason's living right across from Jazz! He's surprisingly nice and offers to help them with the rest of the stuff. Danny's not too thrilled about it, with his little brother's sixth sense, not the ghost sense. He just doesn't want him interacting with his sister anymore! But Jazz is like, "Sure, why not? He's my neighbor! I want to have a good relationship with them" (the neighbors)

After they finish unloading, Jason takes off, and Danny's like, "Please, no more bikers. I know you like them, but seriously, not again."

Finally, Danny leaves an hour later, and then Jason shows up at Jazz's door. He's like, "So you're into bikers, huh?"

They decide to grab a bite, and they end up at a bar, having pizza and playing pool together.

cute!!!!!!!

I'm a sucker for neighbors!AU (of course xd) so this brings a smile to my face.

I can see them being sassy like.

"You don't look like someone who is into bikers." "And you don't look like someone who knows who Emily Dickinson is, but here we are."