#his whole point is that hes just wearing a plain shirt and jeans

[kineticallyanywhere]

Monkey’s Paw pages 130-131 ( START HERE || ao3 || previous || next ) AU after episode 62. The Omega Dads try a more desperate gambit, but   careful what you wish for. Our dads find alternate versions of themselves in a strange dreamscape. Ifyou die in the dream, doyou die in real life?

we are getting real close to some more Monologues that I have been sitting on for more than a year

also this comic will not go about straight up shipping any of the dads, but I call it like I see it vis a vis how they interact with each other and who thinks who is hot

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | s. changbin <3

a/n: finally posting the next skz soulmate au !! i loved writing for sweet baby angel changbin :,,,-) i'm really in my skz feels these days, so hopefully i can write more soulmate aus soon <333 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.6k | warnings: none! | pairing: soulmate!changbin x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

every month, you send a package to your soulmate, knowing only your names before you meet.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“changbin?” chan called from outside the bedroom, “are you ready yet?”

changbin, half-dressed and digging through his closet, answered, “almost!”

chan peeked his head inside, tilting it in confusion, “is something wrong?”

“it doesn’t fit.”

“what doesn’t fit?”

“the new shirt i ordered. i could’ve sworn i ordered it in my usual size…ugh!”

“oh that sucks, but…can’t you just wear another shirt?”

changbin groaned, “yeah, sure, i can. the whole point was to wear that shirt today.”

hyunjin appeared in the doorway, “do you need help picking out an outfit?”

chan explained the vague situation to hyunjin, and, during that time, changbin settled for a plain black t-shirt and denim jacket that matched his jeans. the car arrived to pick them up, so, with a final loud groan, changbin grabbed his favorite necklace from his dresser and headed out for the day.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

as soon as you opened your eyes, you checked your phone to confirm today’s date. earlier that month, your soulmate, whom you only knew as “changbin,” sent you a custom t-shirt in the mail. when you unfolded the shirt, a cute handwritten note slipped out, telling you that it needed to be worn on a specific date because i’ll be wearing one just like it. it’ll be a long workday for me, so knowing that we’re matching will give me the strength to do well! please take a picture, so, one day, i can see how cute you look~~ thank you for being my good luck charm, my love <3

rolling out of bed, you smiled. you had never heard changbin’s voice, but you imagined he always had a bright tone. his messages were always so sweet. even if he sent you a glamorous gift, you cherished the handwritten note more than anything. 

with your outfit completed, photo taken, and your mood at an all-time high, you decided to make the most of your day off. hoping the soulmate airwaves connected you, you thought let’s have a good day today, changbin! i’m rooting for you! as you stepped out your front door.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚  

“all right,” chan sighed, stretching his arms, “i say we move onto the next track, yeah?”

jisung agreed, so changbin checked to see which song they needed to record next, “let’s see…ah, it’s jisung’s song, ‘volcano…’” changbin’s tone dropped, but he spoke again quickly, “who’s up first?”

changbin made a mental note to apologize to jisung later. it wasn’t jisung’s fault that they were recording the song he wrote about his soulmate on the one day when changbin ruined his attempt to have a cute moment with his soulmate. chan, sensing the shift in changbin’s energy, suggested they take a break. even the members who weren’t in a sour mood enthusiastically agreed, all shuffling out of the studio for some fresh air.  

“changbin-hyung!” felix chirped, “want to walk with me? i could use some company!”

changbin couldn’t resist the smile that formed on his face. even in his worst mood, felix’s sunshine demeanor would win him over. as they walked, they chatted about the new animation felix was obsessed with, with felix re-enacting the most interesting parts. changbin’s shoulders relaxed, and he was grateful that the evening air and felix’s voice were so healing. standing at the edge of a slightly crowded street, changbin thought that maybe the bad day was behind him.

“what’s been on your mind today?” felix asked.

“it’s going to sound so stupid.”

felix shook his head, “no way! if it upset you, then it’s not stupid.”

“okay,” changbin sighed, “today, i was supposed to wear this one shirt, but i guess i didn’t pay attention and ordered it in the wrong size. normally that wouldn’t be a big deal, but i sent y/n the same shirt. we were supposed to be matching today…kind of like a good luck charm.”

felix frowned, “i’m sorry. it never feels good when a plan doesn’t work out, especially an exciting one!” felix paused, and then grinned as brightly as he could, “you’re wearing the necklace y/n got you though! you’ve been doing great in the studio today, so that must be working like a lucky charm, right?”

“yeah, probably. it’s just…” changbin frowned, “hearing jisung’s song made me feel even worse. i’m so happy jisung met his person, but i can’t help that i’m jealous. i see how much better he feels on his bad days after he talks to his partner, and it hurts to know that i can only talk to y/n once a month through handwritten notes. it’s beautiful, and i love every word they share, but on days like today, it feels like it’s not enough…”

changbin’s voice trailed off, turning his head toward the opposite side of the street. maybe people-watching strangers could counteract the tears forming in his eyes.

felix rubbed changbin’s shoulder, “it’s okay to feel sad. i know you’ll meet y/n when the time is right, but that doesn’t make it any better in the present moment. maybe you can write out your monthly message to them tonight, if that would help?”

felix glanced over at changbin when he didn’t hear a reply after a minute or so, “changbin? are you with me?”

changbin stared down the street, captivated by someone wearing the exact shirt he was supposed to be wearing today. though his heart was racing, he doubted it was real. he had to be imagining it since he was thinking about you all day, right?

your eyes searched the crowd in front of you, as you were unable to shake the feeling that someone was looking right at you. you slowed your steps, scanning every face to find one you recognized. you were about to give up, but then a familiar necklace caught your eye. everything stopped when you met the gaze of the person wearing it. 

it felt too good to be true. how could you just run into your soulmate on a random evening, in an area you’d only been to once or twice before? besides, he wasn’t wearing the same shirt as you, which he had planned. but that necklace looked exactly like the one you gifted changbin for his birthday. even as you doubted yourself, looking at the man in front of you gave you the feeling that he was the one you had been searching for all along.

you waved at him and asked, “changbin?”

you knew you were correct the second he started giggling and jumping up and down. you laughed, every cell inside you bursting with joy because there he is!

“changbin? what’re you…” felix followed changbin’s gaze, “oh my god! is that y/n?”

felix deciphered a yes!!! amidst all of changbin’s excited noises, so he nudged changbin, “stop waving and go say ‘hello’!”

changbin bounded towards you, unable to stop his smile from growing bigger and bigger as the distance between you two finally disappeared.

“y/n! i’m so sorry i’m not wearing the shirt! i messed up and ordered the wrong size!”

you giggled at the pout that formed on his face, despite the look of pure joy in his eyes, “it’s okay, changbin! you look cute! besides, that would explain why this one isn’t in my usual size.”

“really?” changbin felt relieved, “so i didn’t mess up as badly as i thought?”

“no, not at all,” you shook your head, overwhelmed by the cuteness of changbin, your soulmate, “i can switch with you–since you must have mine in your closet–so we can match next time!”

changbin shook his head, “no way. you look way too cute in that for me to give you a different one.”

“should we share it then?” you joked.

“why shouldn’t we? we’re sharing the rest of our lives, aren’t we?”

you felt heat rush to your face at his words, bringing yet another giggle to changbin’s lips. you heard someone call his name with the news that they had to leave in a few minutes, which prompted changbin to get your contact information. the smile never left his face, even when he started to say goodbye. in his mind, nothing was more exciting than the fact that tonight, he could finally ask you how was your day, my love?

“i’ll talk to you later then, yeah?” you beamed.

“yes, please! i’m so sorry i have to leave right now, but i promise i’ll make it up to you.”

“i do not doubt that, changbin.”

you waved, watching him walk in the direction he came from. after a few steps, he turned around to look at you again.

“what’re you smiling so much for?” you giggled.

“i guess you really are my good luck charm today, y/n.”

you felt butterflies swarm inside you as your laughs mixed, filling the crowded street with pure joy and endless possibilities.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[rambling-at-midnight]

Second Chances (Part 2)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne & Reader

Summary: Your and Jason’s relationship gets off to a rocky start in that, well... it doesn't have a chance to start, because the whole universe is conspiring against Jason. Everything comes to a head when a particle collider in STAR Labs malfunctions.

Word count: 5.8k

Six days after Jason discovered your regeneration abilities finds him waiting at a coffee shop at 8:53 a.m. He anxiously checks his watch again. You agreed to meet at 9, which really means you’ll be there by 9:10. He didn’t want to drink his coffee too quickly (how long did coffee dates last? He looked it up online and the results were inconclusive) so he drank a cup at home before leaving to sate the caffeine addiction every vigilante in Gotham suffered from.

It hadn’t made him more alert. Just more jittery.

Jason’s knee jogs beneath the table. It felt too high school prom to ask what you planned on wearing beforehand, so he used his best judgment (Damian would say Jason’s judgment was never good, but what did Damian know) and wore his only pair of jeans and a plain gray t-shirt. He knows a suit is too formal for a coffee date, and his usual sweats or gymwear is too casual. You’ve seen him in all kinds of clothing, so his appearance barely even matters, but at this point he’s going to sweat through the t-shirt before you even get here.

Instead of fiddling with his clothes, Jason combs his bangs back again.

As he walked through the door, Jason’s stomach had flipped like it was freefalling. A hundred little thoughts occurred to him, like, What if the shop’s closed today or What if this is the only coffee shop in Gotham that requires formalwear?

All his fears were unfounded. In the corner, a hipster wearing a fedora sips on his iced macchiato. Two tables down is a gaggle of GCU students that look like they’re cramming for finals. No one even looked over when he sat down to reserve this table for the two of you. It’s right next to the big ornamental bookshelf in the back of the shop, so hopefully you two will have a little more privacy.

Everything should be fine.

Everything is fine.

Jason checks his watch again: 9 a.m. sharp.

Shit. Should he order you a coffee before you get here? Is that presumptuous? Jason knows your usual order, but what if you have a different one here? What if you’re running even later than normal and by the time you get here all the ice is melted and you drink sad, watery coffee to make him feel better?

He should order your drink. Or maybe he should let you order your drink, and he should buy your pastry. Jason stands, then checks his phone to see if you’ve texted. You haven’t.

There’s no line, so he has no time to ponder the decision. When the barista asks what he wants, Jason panics and orders two drinks and two pastries. He saw something on the internet the other day about how women don’t like that anymore because then they feel obligated to stay at the date, but you know that he won’t pressure you, right? Like, sure, he’s never been in a relationship before, and Jason’s pretty sure he’s been in love with you since before he died, and he also wouldn’t be mad if you moved into his apartment tomorrow and never left, but he doesn’t have any expectations for today.

He thinks you two are compatible. Jason hopes so.

He checks his watch again: 9:04. A terrible thought occurs to him. What if you sleep through your alarm and never show up?

At 9:07, Jason’s order is ready, and when he turns around with two drinks and a bag of pastries in his hands, someone says, “Hi,” at his elbow.

Jason is a highly trained vigilante. The sight of him makes criminals crap their pants. He’s mastered over twenty styles of combat.

Jason jumps and drops the coffees.

Because you’re also a highly trained vigilante, you catch them without a drop spilling. “Hi, Jay,” you say again, eyes crinkling with your smile. You look… nice. More than nice. Just like you’ve seen Jason dressed any way, he’s seen you wear anything, and you never look anything less than perfect. But he appreciates that you put in the effort today.

Jason swallows. “H—” His voice cracks. “Hey, Y/N.” He cringes internally. So smooth.

You check the labels on both drinks and tape a sip of the one for you. “Thanks for ordering. Sorry I was late. Wanna sit down?”

“Yeah, sure,” says Jason. He sits in the chair across from you, then feels awkward with his hands. Should he put them in his lap? Keep them in sight?

You, on the other hand, seem completely at ease. Your eyes flick over him as you take another sip of coffee. Jason’s whole body flushes at your examination. He busies himself with his drink.

After about thirty full seconds of silent coffee drinking, you tilt your head and ask, “So how have you been?”

“Good,” Jason says. “I’ve been—good. You know. Recovering.” Internally, he curses his twisted tongue. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” you reply. Take another sip of coffee. Maybe you’re just as nervous as he is.

Jason nods. “That’s good.”

After another brief silence, you sigh and lean forward. Your eyes sparkle, like you’re trying to share a secret just between the two of you. “This is awkward, isn't it?”

Oh, God. You’re about to tell Jason that you two are better off as friends. “I mean, first dates are supposed to be a little awkward, aren’t they?”

“Well, yes, but because you’re essentially meeting a stranger. We’re not strangers, though. I know basically everything about you, and you know all about me.”

“Oh.” The thought of meeting up with a stranger to establish a relationship doesn’t appeal to Jason, honestly. He doesn’t think he could ever love someone he didn’t know. He doesn’t think he could love anyone more than you.

You cover your mouth with one hand. “Holy shit. I totally forgot. This is your first ever date, isn’t it?”

Jason feels his cheeks flush scarlet. “Well, technically, but—”

“Yeah, hanging out with Janie Morris in the library in seventh grade doesn’t count.” You wave your hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m totally ruining your first first date.”

“I wouldn’t call this ruined,” says Jason. He asks hesitantly, “Would… would you?”

You smile sweetly. “No. I’ve just never gone on a date with someone I liked this much. I’m a little nervous.”

Jason’s stomach flips. He opens his mouth to say something, but the sound of gagging cuts him off.

Damian and his friend, the youngest Kent kid, stand in line for coffee behind an absolute dickhead wearing a Blüdhaven police officer uniform. Dickhead has his back turned to you, ordering for the ungrateful kids, and Damian’s lip is curled while Jon Kent has his tongue out and finger pointed at his mouth, pretending to retch.

“What are you doing here?” you and Jason ask at the same time, but with vastly different tones.

As soon as he pays, Dickhead turns around and grins brightly. “Hey, guys! So you’re the reason Dami insisted on getting coffee before school.”

“Did Alfred give permission for that?” you ask.

Jon shoves his hands in his pockets and whistles. Damian suddenly finds the ceiling very intriguing.

Jason checks his watch. “He’s going to be late,” he says pointedly.

Dick shrugs. “That’s okay. I was late almost every day to Gotham Academy.”

“Yes, because you were a teenage delinquent. Those of us that actually care about our academics—”

As Jason continues to argue with Dick, Damian turns to you and says plainly, “You could do so much better, Y/N.”

“Come here, Dami.” You beckon him forward, and he sidles over reluctantly. You rub at his cheek with your sleeve. Gently, quietly, so he isn’t embarrassed, you chide, “That’s not a nice way to talk about your brother.”

Damian scowls. “He is not—”

Suddenly, the cash register topples over, pushed out of the way by Kite Man’s expanding kite.

You shove the kids behind you. Jason shoves you behind him. Dick shoves all of you behind himself.

Kite Man shouts at the underpaid barista, “What do you mean no one ordered my special drink this week?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the barista says. “Nobody wants green raspberry lattes.”

“Green raspberry?” Jason asks in disbelief. “Does that even exist?”

Kite Man whirls around. “Yes, it does, and it’s fabulous!” He stands in front of the door and shouts, “Nobody leaves until you all have tried my signature drink!”

Well, of all Gotham’s rogues, Kite Man is relatively harmless. It’s probably easier to just try the drinks and tell him that it tastes good instead of fighting.

Judging by the look on your and Dick’s faces—mutual exasperation—you’re all on the same page.

Unfortunately, the hipster in the corner doesn’t agree. He throws his fedora on the ground and raises his fist in the air. Presumably he has something motivational to say about nonconformity or whatever they care about nowadays. Unfortunately, the shop’s glass windows shatter, and four men with Penguin masks and large guns enter.

“Hey!” Kite Man complains. “I was in the middle of holding these people hostage!”

A squat figure waddles into view. “Fly away now, little birdie, or you’ll find yourself between my minions and a hard place.”

Kite Man shakes his head. “Just because you buy into your bird theme doesn’t mean we all have—”

One of the goons cocks his gun.

“Fine,” he huffs, “I’m going. But I’m telling everyone that you stole my heist.”

Cobblepot rolls his eyes. “You do that.”

Clothes rustle behind Jason, and when he glances over his shoulder, your date clothes have been replaced by your Ghoul costume. How did you even do that?

The Ghoul mask has no visible eyes, but Jason sometimes thinks he can see yours through it. “Get down.”

“Ghoul—”

“All right!” Cobblepot shouts. “Everyone, hands up and wallets out. As long as you’re smart birdies, I’ll let you all fly the coop.”

“Speaking of flying, has anyone here ever seen a flying idiot before?”

Cobblepot pauses. Everyone slowly looks up, and up, until they see you perched on top of the ornamental bookshelf.

“They’re about to,” growls one of the goons. He raises the barrel of his gun, but you’re already jumping to avoid the spray of bullets, feet out and aimed right for Cobblepot’s middle.

The force of your jump sends him across the shop. You land much more gracefully, put your hands on your hips, and say happily, “Now everyone has.”

The goons open fire.

Jason flips the table up, then crouches behind it. He pulls Damian down and curls around his soft human body. The Kryptonian kid will be fine. In fact, he’s in front of Dick, doing his best to use his invulnerable skin to deflect any bullets that fly in their direction.

Jason’s teeth grind. He hadn’t brought his helmet because he’s an idiot. There are a couple knives tucked into his left boot, and one handgun hidden in his right, but bullets spew so heavily over their heads that he doesn’t think he can join the fight without his armor.

Bodies hit bodies and people grunt. A man grunts, and you cry out. You grunt, and one of the men cries out.

Dickhead finally does his job. He twists around, face twisted into a snarl, and tackles someone out of sight.

“It’s Signal!” one of the goons screams.

Jason squeezes his eyes shut and covers Damian’s when the force of the sun lights up the room. Judging by a couple screams, the goons weren’t so smart.

When Jason straightens up, two of the goons roll around on the ground, clutching their faces and screaming about going blind. Dick has the other two handcuffed, and Signal has Cobblepot pinned.

Where are you?

Jason scans the entire shop, but he doesn’t see you.

“Todd!” Damian tugs his hand. “This way.”

Jason lets the kid steer him through the shop and out the back door. After a second, he realizes that the kid is following a trail of blood.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You’re in the alley behind the coffee shop, wedged between two dumpsters. Judging by the smear of blood in front of the one meant for recycling, you collapsed in front of it, then dragged yourself between the two to hide. Blood stains your pale suit from the trail of bullets in your stomach. One of the goons managed to hit you with at least seven. They’re all in a straight line across, too, and Jason would admire the marksmanship if it didn’t mean you’re bleeding out in the middle of an alley.

You rip the fabric of your suit until the torn skin is visible. Then you reach into one wound with your bare fingers. Sharp, pained gasps escape your mouth, sounds that would be screams had you more strength.

You pull out one bullet. It rolls away underneath the dumpster.

Jason drops to his knees. As much as he knows, intellectually, that you won’t die, it’s something else entirely to watch you bleed out. “Ghoul?”

Your helmet lolls. You cough, and red stains your mask from the inside out. “Hey, Jace. Sorry. Give me a sec.”

Damian pushes past Jason. You manually push your legs out of the way so he can crouch next to you, ignoring the puddle of blood growing around his shoes. They’re black, so the stains won’t be visible.

“Hey, bud,” you say weakly. “You okay?”

Damian nods. “I am fine.”

“Fucking Gotham,” you mutter. “Not even nine-thirty…”

Someone gasps behind Jason. He whirls around, ready to defend you when you’re unable to.

Dickhead has one hand over his mouth and another over Jon’s eyes, even though the alien can probably see right through his fingers. “Oh, that’s not good.”

“S’okay,” you say. Try to give them all a thumbs-up. “They nicked my spine, actually, so I can’t feel anything.” You cough again, make a choking sound, and go limp.

Jason feels it when you die. His heart twinges, and everything in his vision goes half a shade grayer. There’s less color when you aren’t in the world.

“Oh, my God.” Dick pulls on his hair. “Oh, my God, they’re dead.”

Jason tilts his head. “You don’t know?” He looks at Damian. “He doesn’t know?”

“I don’t know what?”

“Ghoul’s healing abilities are more advanced than we were led to believe,” Damian says briskly. He pulls tweezers out of somewhere and roots around in your wounds, extracting each small bullet with expert precision.

“Dami, stop that,” Dick says. He pulls out his phone. “We need to call someone. Jason, you stop Damian—”

“He has to remove the bullets before they can heal around them,” Jason says.

Dick stops dialing whatever number he’d thought of. He stares at Jason. “What? Jay, Ghoul’s—”

“Dead.” Jason’s mouth is sticky around the word. “Yeah, I know. But not for long.”

“Whoa,” breathes Jon. “I can see them healing.”

“Okay, someone had better explain to me what’s going on right now.”

Jason opens his mouth to, but then you suck in a deep breath and sit up, patting your stomach to check that you’re intact again.

And. Well. That pretty much explains it all.

You and Jason try to plan a makeup first date four days after, just a quick lunch on your work break, but that’s interrupted by a last-minute order, and you cancel when Jason’s already outside the building with flowers in hand. Then you stop by Jason’s apartment for a bookshop trip, but find him passed out on the ground from several stab wounds, and ‘patching Jason’s wounds and ordering takeout’ doesn’t quite count as a first date. Every time Jason visits, Damian is already there with a smug smile to belittle everything he says. Your relationship deserves a proper first date, with nice clothes and the right setting, and he can’t do that simple thing for you.

Two weeks go by, and Jason still can’t take you out on a proper date. The whole universe, and especially Damian Wayne, are conspiring against him.

But tonight will be the night. Tonight, Jason set up a (fake, he doesn’t want to set the whole building on fire) candlelit dinner in his apartment. Tim has been thoroughly bribed to keep Damian busy no matter what, Cass and Babs are handling Crime Alley, and Nightwing is patrolling your usual stomping grounds. Bruce accepted all this as measures to keep Gotham nightlife on its toes, so Jason doesn’t expect any issues from him.

Tonight, nothing will go wrong.

Only two minutes after the arranged meet time, you knock on his front door, and Jason trips in his haste to answer it. He almost brings down the entire table, but his hand narrowly misses hitting the edge. Jason catches himself against the wall and wrenches the door open.

“Hey, Jay,” you beam. You’re dressed somewhat nice, not that Jason’s complaining, but now he feels overdressed in his button down. At least his feet are bare. Speaking of, where are his socks?

“Hey. How are you doing?”

“I’m good, I—”

You stop short at the sight of the dinner. Jason swallows. Is it too fancy?

Then you snort.

Jason’s chest hurts.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “Just—I didn’t think you were the kind of guy to celebrate every milestone.”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, this is our two-week anniversary, right?” You step further into the room and shed your jacket. “It’s sweet, Jay, really, but it’s really not necessary. Between the two of us, I’ll probably forget our one-year anniversary, so at least you’re good with dates.”

“Hang on,” Jason interrupts. “What do you mean, it’s our two-week anniversary?”

“Um, yeah?” You give him a weird look. “It’s been two weeks since we started dating. Or did I get the dates wrong?”

“We’re dating?” Jason squeaks.

You squint, open your mouth, and check the date on your phone. You close your mouth and say hesitantly, “Aren’t we?”

“You never told me that!”

“I didn’t realize it needed to be said!”

Jason splutters. Of course it needed to be said! “I never asked you to be my partner!”

“Well, duh, but you asked me out and brought flowers to my work.” You put a hand on your hip and pop it out. “I thought we would work out the details later. Look, am I wrong? Did I interpret this all wrong?”

Jason could rip his own hair out. “I’ve been trying to take you on one good date this whole time!”

Your face is blank for a while. Then you cover your mouth too late to hide your snort. “Sorry, sorry.” Your hands flap in the air, then you give him an apologetic look and set them straight at your side. “I’m being serious. Just, hon, what about the other dates weren’t good?”

Jason bluescreens at the nickname. He’s not sure how long he stares at you, but once his brain reboots and he realizes he’s standing like a creep, he wipes his chin to make sure there’s no drool on it, then says, “I didn’t even say anything to you when I dropped off the flowers!”

“Yes, I was on call, but I appreciated the gesture.”

“Then that other time, I nearly bled out and stained your clothes with my blood.”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip. “That was kind of stressful, but you weren’t in any real danger of bleeding out. I would have freaked out a lot more if that was the case. Besides, I like taking care of you.”

You have got to stop saying cute shit like that, because Jason’s whole face heats up like a tomato and he can’t muster up any real words. What is it about you that turns him into such an idiot?

“Every time I go to your place, Damian’s there.”

“Damian is literally always at my apartment. I’m afraid that you’ll see even more of your brother if you really start dating me. Since we haven’t been already.”

Jason sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you sidle closer and grab his other hand. Your fingers intertwine with his. “I guess that was kind of stupid of me, huh?”

You shrug. “Not stupid. A little silly. But still cute.” You bounce on your toes and give Jason a look, and all he can think is Oh my God.

Because this is it.

He might have read everything else wrong, but Jason is pretty damn sure that you want him to kiss you for the first time. He might be awful, might be the worst goddamn person you’ve ever kissed, but he’s willing to practice until he’s the best.

Jason’s neck cranes. He leans down and you lean up, eyes fluttering shut, and…

Your phone rings.

Everything pauses. Your eyes open, and a crinkle appears between your brows. “I should take this.” You silence the sound, then look over the electronic screen. Jason doesn’t peek, although his Bat-paranoia is begging for him to.

“Isn’t your ringer always off?”

“Yeah, it’s, um… it’s an alarm,” you say.

You’re a terrible liar.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” You smile, but this time it looks forced. “I’ll see you later, Jay.” Instead of trying for a kiss again, you trap his arms to his side in a bear hug, then dart out the door.

Jason sticks his head into the hallway and shouts, “Are we still getting coffee tomorrow?” That was his backup plan for if something fucked up this attempt at a first date.

And something did.

You’re already gone.

He goes to your weekly coffee spot anyway in the vain hope you’ll show up. Nine o’clock passes, then nine-thirty, then ten.

After two hours of waiting, Jason has to concede that you’re not showing up.

The moment he stands, someone clears their throat, and when he looks back, Damian is in the chair across from him.

“Do you ever go to school?”

“At approximately nine-forty last evening,” started the brat, but Jason cut him off.

“Not interested in whatever tantrum you’re pitching now.”

“Sit down, Todd.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I know where Y/N is.”

Jason sits down.

Damian clears his throat again. “At approximately nine-forty last evening, Barry Allen sent a distress signal to the Justice League. Batman went to Star City to investigate, and he took Ghoul with him.”

“Why would he do that?”

“How should I know, you insufferable hooligan?”

Seriously. Victorian child. It was honestly ridiculous.

Damian lost a bit of confidence. “I am…” He bit his lip. “Worried.”

“Why?”

“I have not heard from Father or Y/N since their departure.”

Shit.

Jason shot to his feet. “Do we have a zeta to Star City?”

Damian scoffed. “Of course.”

“Good. We’re going to use it.”

“Affirmative.”

Jason drags the kid by the collar of his shirt. His bike is too far, so Jason hotwires a car and hauls ass to the Cave. Everyone else in this stupid nocturnal family is still asleep, so no one interrupts them when Damian turns off the zeta’s parental override and plugs in their coordinates. It’s a good thing he keeps a spare suit in the Cave; he hadn’t even thought to grab it from his apartment.

Jason takes a deep breath before stepping through. He’s had some time to think, so he knows exactly what he wants to say. He’ll apologize. He’ll ask to work through why you think your pain is such a non-issue that you’ll throw yourself at death headfirst. You’ll explain your thoughts, and agree to start thinking about your own health, and then maybe you’ll say ‘I love you’ to each other and kiss and live the rest of your lives happily ever after.

Jason steps into a tornado.

A metal plate zips by so close it nearly shears off his nose. Jason cries out and stumbles back, tripping over Damian as he emerges from the zeta.

“Are you sure you took us to the right place?” he shouts over the whirlwind screaming in his ears.

“Of course!” Damian yells back. “I do not make mistakes.”

“Then what the hell is going on here?”

“Unclear! The zeta should have put us in STAR labs!”

Jason stares at the big metal contraption in front of them. “I think it did.”

“What?”

He shouts, “I think it did!”

If Jason is ever going to look at a machine and think, Wow. That looks exactly like a time machine, this is that machine. It’s almost too massive to take in. And something is definitely wrong with it, unless lightning is supposed to be crackling around it and its metal plates are supposed to be peeling off.

Why had the Flash called Batman to help? What could Bruce do that a speedster couldn't?

“He’s gonna kill me for bringing Robin here,” Jason groaned.

Damian shouted, “What?”

“Nothing!”

Something yellow zips in front of them, and all of a sudden Jason can hear. His stomach just about falls out between his teeth when he pukes.

Damian doesn’t puke, although he does look queasy.

They’re now in another room in the lab. Thick glass windows separate them from the tornado. Watching the metal whirl around is kind of hypnotizing.

“Sorry,” says the Flash. “That happens a lot, actually.”

When Jason looks up, Batman and Ghoul are glaring at him. Funny how he can tell, even though neither vigilante’s mask exposes much (or all) of their face.

“Red Hood,” growls Batman, “what are you and Robin doing here?”

Jason looks past him and says to you, “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

Flash looks between you and Jason and coughs into his hand, “Awkward.”

You roll your eyes beneath your mask. “I thought this would take an hour, tops.”

“Things have gotten… out of hand,” says Batman, which is akin to someone else screaming about the apocalypse and end of all humanity.

“Two important pieces in the collider disconnected early this morning,” says Flash.

“Okay,” says Jason. “So put them back together?” Aren’t these two supposed to be Earth’s smartest heroes?

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Quantum mechanics,” says Batman. “Too complicated to explain.”

You whisper behind your hand, “He’s been trying to help me understand all night.”

“So there’s technically good and bad news,” says Flash. “Good news: the malfunction is fixable. Now. It wasn’t before. Bad news: holding the machine together while it resets will kill you of radiation that unwinds your DNA. Good news: if I vibrate at just the right frequency, I may survive.”

“Okay, great,” says Jason. “What are you waiting for?”

“For you four to get out of range of the blast zone, mostly,” Flash says. “There is a small non-zero chance that the whole building will combust.”

“Five minutes should do it,” Batman growls. “Come along, Robin.”

Instead of coming along, Damian says, “What is that?” and points over Batman and Flash’s shoulders.

Everyone turns to look.

“I don’t see anything,” says Jason. He turns around to see Damian’s arms wrapped tight around your middle. By the time Flash and Batman turn back around, the boy’s arms are crossed over his chest as if nothing happened.

“Apologies,” Damian says stiffly. “I must have imagined it.”

Batman knows his son well, and he eyes Damian suspiciously, but at that moment a piece of debris hits the glass at the right angle, and shoots into the room. Flash jumps out of the way and it buries into the wall behind him.

The tornado’s cacophony is even louder, if that’s possible. Flash blurs into motion, and the ground pulls away from Jason. When he stops moving at the speed of light, he’s crouched beneath a desk next to you. Damian and Batman are together under the desk to your right.

Jason peers around the edge. All he can see of Flash is a yellow blur darting all over the machine. For a moment the wind stops, and every piece of debris clatters into the walls, then onto the floor. Jason’s ears ring.

“Is that it?”

There’s a tremendous crash, and Flash slams into the wall. The force of it holds him there for a moment, and then he tumbles to the ground, unconscious.

Batman darts out from the desk to pull the man’s body to safety. He taps Flash’s cheek, but the man doesn’t stir.

Well, shit. How long can they wait for Flash to wake up?

You say something, but Jason doesn’t hear. He shouts, “What?”

Your hands pull at your mask, and you yank it off, ruffling your hair. Jason smoothes it away from your face on instinct.

“Just tell me what to do,” he shouts.

Your eyes close against the wind. Tears escape the corners of both.

Jason feels your gentle fingers around the edge of his mask, and he helps you remove it. “What is it, Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” you say. “This isn’t fair.”

“We can—why are you saying this?” His eyes dart between you and Batman. The tornado in the other room is growing worse by the second, but he’s just looking at you two like some soap opera.

“Hey!” Your fingers latch in the front of his collar, and you yank Jason’s surprised mouth down onto yours. Your noses bump, and he forgets to breathe (he should joke that you take his breath away when all this is over) but it’s… It’s perfect.

His first kiss.

Damian yells, “Gross!”

You pull back. A brilliant smile lights up your face. “Hey. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jason breathes.

Metal clicks around his wrist.

Jason looks at the handcuff, not really understanding your plan until you latch the other cuff around one of the desk’s bolted-down legs. “Don’t you dare,” he says. Jerks his wrist back. The cuff clatters but holds.

“I’ve got a chance.”

“Not a good one!”

“I’ll see you in a sec.” You stand up.

“What are you doing?” Damian hollers.

“Don’t do this!” Jason shouts. He fights with the handcuffs, and they creak, but he won’t get out of them in time to stop you. Anxious desperation courses through his veins. “Y/N, get back here!”

Damian’s head whips between you and Jason. His eyes widen, and he lunges out from behind the desk to stop you, but Batman catches him around the middle and hauls him back kicking and screaming.

You shout to Batman, “Get them out of here!”

The cowled man looks at you for a long moment. Jason’s spirits rise: will Batman stop you?

But then he nods smartly, giving you permission to exit the room and enter the tornado. Batman tears the door handle off seconds before Robin hits it, banging his fists on the metal and screaming your name. He lets Robin tire himself out doing that and crosses over to Jason. “Will you fight me?”

Jason stares at his father, tears brimming in his eyes. “How could you let them do that?”

Voice completely emotionless, Batman says, “It was the most practical risk to take.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s okay.” Batman crouches and reaches a hand out. He strokes Jason’s hair twice, the way he used to when they were younger, and Jason hates the way he leans into it. “I’ll be back for you, then.” He straightens and barks, “Robin, to me!”

Damian whirls around, teeth bared in a feral snarl. “I will not leave Ghoul!”

Jason can’t hear whatever Bruce says to him, but somehow he persuades Damian to help pick Flash’s limp body off the ground. With a flourish of capes, they disappear, and Jason’s left alone, handcuffed to a desk, listening to the tornado in the next room tear apart the love of his life.

The wind crescendos.

Abates.

The building holds its breath, and then—

Whoosh.

Jason curls up into as tight a ball as possible, teeth gritted against the terrible flooding heat. If not for the shelter of an entire wall and desk separating him from the flames, Jason would be burnt alive. No one could withstand—

Jason whirls around and screams, “Y/N!” The stupid fucking handcuff, he pulls against it, and it bites into his wrist, drawing blood. “Fuck, I’m being so fucking stupid—”

Jason braces the metal chain against one of his knives and applies pressure until it snaps. Then he’s up, feet skidding over glass and metal shards, and he bursts through the door to the particle collider. “Y/N! Ghoul!” He can hear his own panicked breathing, but he can’t regulate it.

You’re okay. You have to be okay. You survived a broken neck, severed spinal cord, and seven bullet wounds to the abdomen. Just because Jason can’t find your body doesn’t mean anything. Just because the room is filled with ash and dust and dirt and no fucking body doesn’t mean anything.

Jason screams your name until his throat is raw. The particle collider is ruined, partially collapsed, and Jason slices open his palms on jagged edges trying to shove it away. Are you stuck beneath it? Jason doesn’t even know what parts were broken.

Something clatters behind him, and Jason whirls around, but it’s just Batman.

Surveying the damage, the man abruptly looks old beyond his years. He barely spares Jason a glance before beginning his own search for you.

“Y/N! Please!” Jason begs. “You can’t be dead, you promised—”

“Red Hood,” Batman says, and his voice is so raw that Jason whirls around.

There’s a pale-clothed arm in Batman’s arm. Jason gasps.

Then he sees that it’s attached to a torso.

Batman grunts and tugs, and the rest of you slips out from under a thick sheet of metal. “Oh, fuck,” Jason says hoarsely. He stumbles over the mess and falls to his knees in front of you. “You smart little asshole, you—” Jason feels for a pulse.

Nothing.

What had Flash said? The radiation unwinds your DNA? Is that something Professor Pyg’s sick experimentation could protect you from?

“Hood,” Batman says.

“No.”

“Hood—”

“Fuck off, B.”

Instead of fucking off, the older man pulls down his cowl and sinks to Jason’s level. “You’re bleeding, son.”

“It’s fine,” Jason mutters. His hands are rubbing it onto your suit, but you’re good at getting bloodstains out of the fabric. It’ll be okay. “Come on, Y/N.” His lower lip wobbles, but Jason resists the stone forming in his throat. You’re fine. You’ve always been fine.

Maybe you just need to breathe better. Jason rips off your mask, but that doesn’t help. Maybe he needs to breathe. He removes his own helmet, but that, too, makes little difference.

Physically, you look fine. Jason doesn’t see a single wound.

Of course, it would be hard for the naked eye to recognize unwound DNA, wouldn’t it?

Jason abruptly has a rush of sympathy for Dr. Fries. He doesn’t give a shit how long it takes or if the technology hasn’t been invented yet, your DNA is getting re-wound.

Then you suck in a deep breath. Your eyes fly open.

DC taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3

forever taglist

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit  @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[eilorow]

Civic Transform - Nude Beach

It was a bright and sunny May day when Loïc decided to spend his afternoon at the beach. He still had to study for his finals, but liked to do so in the sun whenever possible. He put on a plain blue T-shirt and jean shorts, along with his sandals, and hopped into his car. The student always wore a shirt at the beach, not that he was ashamed of his body, but simply that he disliked showing any skin to strangers. Even wearing shorts and sandals was a whole ordeal, and he was actually looking forward to fall, when he could safely wear his beloved long-sleeved shirts. Although he wasn’t ashamed of it, his body was still average, at most. Pale and relatively skinny, he never really did exercise, being busy with his college classes. He had semi-long messy brown hair, wore glasses and, at 20 years old, stood at a middling 5’8. Finally, his 3.5-inch long dick, hard, was just enough for him.

When Loïc arrived at the parking lot, it was already halfway filled with cars. “Busy day,” he thought. As long as he could find a cozy, quiet spot, he would have a good time anyway. He grabbed his towel and the book he was planning to read, and headed out to the coast. As he stepped out onto the sand, he saw a clear area with very few beachgoers and no-one splashing around and making noise in the water, which was perfect for him. However, as he was walking towards it, he spotted a big sign only a couple dozen feet away, and went to check it out. It read: “BEYOND THIS POINT YOU MAY ENCOUNTER NUDE SUNBATHERS”. He grunted, annoyed, at its sight. He definitely didn’t want to be next to the “freak zone”, as he called it, but as he looked around the clothed side of the beach, he really saw no other good spot other than the one he was headed to. He decided to go there anyway; he would simply have to permanently look the other way. Loïc eventually laid down his towel on the warm sand and took out his notebook. He made sure to sit down facing the opposite way from the nude beach, and tried to forget that it was even there.

However, as the young man was going through the pages, he found it progressively harder to focus. Something was nagging him at the back of his head, but he couldn’t figure out what. He shuffled on his towel, annoyed, and thought about the nude beach again, and how unpleasant it was to be near such freaky people. He kept trying to read, not noticing how his cock had gotten hard at the thought. It was of no use, though, as the image of the nude beach sign popped up inside his head. His dick started stretching, reaching up to 4 inches long. The words were jumbling up inside his head, letters mixing until he couldn’t read anymore. Loïc got really frustrated; he really needed to review these notes for the upcoming exam. His cock, now thicker and 4.5 inches long, was promptly tugging at his crotch. Feeling pressure in his pants, he looked down and gasped at his bigger meat that was begging for attention. Pretending to ignore it, the student decided to take a break and walk around for a few minutes.

He made a few shy steps around before heading confidently, if unwillingly, towards the sign. As he walked, he started feeling hotter and hotter in a way that became almost uncomfortable. Also, his shirt started clinging tightly to his torso, more so than it had ever done before. It was hugging every curve in his pecs and biceps, which were clearly bigger than earlier. Loïc did everything to keep his privacy, and his clothes on; he disliked those show-off dudes who were always prancing around with their shirts off. However, after tolerating it for a while, the junior simply couldn’t take it anymore; he hurriedly took his T-shirt off and threw it on the ground with no further regard. Finally freed, his muscles grew even more. His biceps and forearms bulged while his shoulders broadened. His torso expanded out to support his inflating pecs, as his abs tightened into a six-pack. His back also grew out and stretched, gaining 2 inches and bringing the growing young man to 5’10.

Still hot, but feeling much better, Loïc still paid no attention to his muscular upper body. It was natural, after all, to be shirtless at the beach. He felt something tight at his left hand, and looked down to see he was still wearing his watch. His wrist, larger since the growth spurt, was now too large for the instrument. With a carelessness he could’ve never had towards it before, he unclipped it and let it fall to the ground. As he did so, he watched his fingers slowly thicken, elongating in front of his eyes as his hands broadened and stretched. He, however, had to quickly thrust them behind his head; he bit his lip as he watched his dick stretching half an inch longer, reaching 5 inches long, and making it especially difficult to keep his bigger, powerful hands away from it. The growth subsiding, he relaxed his arms back to his sides.

Although no longer feeling hot under the sun, Loïc still felt something wasn’t right. “Why am I wearing shorts on top of my swimsuit?” he thought, “I’m at the beach!” As he said that, muscles started growing in his legs, his quads and ass plumping up and tightening his legwear. Undoing his belt and slipping the piece of clothing down, he revealed what was under it; a tight, almost skimpy, white and red striped stretchy swimsuit he definitely didn’t put on that morning, that showed every detail of his new larger bulge. The bathing suit seemed perfectly usual to Loïc, who didn’t notice it, nor his legs growing further, his quads enlarging while his ass was blowing up and his calves were thickening. As he stepped out of the jeans, his legs stretched 2 inches longer, bringing the confused student up to 6 feet.

As he kept walking, he felt the need to remove his sandals. What was a good day at the beach without feeling the sand between your toes? Without hesitation, the 20-year-old boy slipped off his footwear, leaving his sandals behind him, half-buried into the ground. As he did so, his feet started elongating, arching slightly as his body grew another inch, bringing him to 6’1. The now fit student kept walking towards the nude beach sign, almost becoming eager to reach it. The young man barely had any clothing on, at this point, but as much as his body had changed, his face remained practically untouched. 

Seconds later, Loïc was fidgeting with one of the last things he still had on: his chain. It was a present from his parents, who gave it to him when he started high school as a good-luck charm for his studies. He had never removed it as part of a tradition, and also to take every chance he could to be successful. However, now, he felt confused as to why it was so important to him. What was the big deal about studies? Sure, it could help you get a good job, but those jobs were usually boring; the real world was out there, meeting new people, not crammed in some classroom learning about cells and stuff. Playing with the lock, at the back, he clipped it off and watched as it fell on the warm sand. He raised his shoulders and kept walking, not noticing his thickening neck. Suddenly, he gulped loudly, feeling his larger Adam’s apple bob. As he brought up his right hand to feel it, he also lifted his left hand towards his face to feel the changes happening. His nose straightened up and poked out further, his lips plumped up, his cheekbones rose up slightly, his chin pushed out a little, and his jaw broadened. He now looked objectively handsome, with straight white teeth and a sneering grin to match. While his hands were still busy feeling his face, he brusquely let out a deeper groan as he felt his body cramp up again, his muscles thickening up slightly while his spine stretched out an extra inch, bringing him to 6’2. He also let out a weak moan as he felt his dick lengthening slowly, girthing up as it slowly grew an inch longer and reached 6 inches long, leaking out pre.

The growth having finally subsided, Loïc, feeling slightly dazed, stumbled on the sand and caused his glasses to slip off his wider face. As he bent over to look for them, he blinked a few times and noticed he could see perfectly without them. Nonetheless, when looking on the ground, he spotted a pair of colored sunglasses that he recognised as his. He swiftly picked them up and put them on, readjusting his eyes to a more comfortable level of sunlight. The glasses also caused a few changes to his body, spreading a tan over his skin and a dusting of hair around his arms and legs. A well-kept stubble grew out around his jaw while his hair styled out, retracting back inside his head while fluffing up at the top. 

His body and mind truly those of a beach jock, he finally reached the sign at the limit of the nude beach. “Well,” Loïc thought, “there’s only one thing left for me to take off.” The fit 20-year-old quickly took off his bathing suit as he had done dozens of times, pulling it off in one swift motion while keeping it in his hand. He gripped the post as he moaned deeply, his dick going through its last growth spurt. The former A-grade student shuddered slightly as he watched his cock slowly stretch out, while also thickening and plumping up, becoming slightly chubby as his balls dropped down. After a few seconds of slow, pleasurable lengthening, his dick reached 2 inches further. Loïc barely had time to take a breath before he started cumming repeatedly on the sign.

With an 8-inch long cock of seizable girth, Loïc was well equipped to get any guy he wanted. The 6’2 fit, tan and handsome guy definitely didn’t care about school anymore, or about hiding his body. He stood, catching his breath next to the sign. “Whoops,” he thought. “I’m not quite on the nude beach yet.” He put his swimsuit in front of his genitals, more as a tease than anything else, and looked over the area. “I won’t miss this side of the place. I don’t know why I even went there in the first place, through all the boring people. The real fun’s on this side!” he thought again, grinning widely before turning back to join those he used to call freaks, exposing his plump backside for the whole place to see.

[lenreli]

submerge your inhibition

[AO3]

4.6k, Explicit. Models Dream + Hob. Inspired by Ferdie in The Comeuppance BTS.

-

Dream quietly slips into the room, and finds himself relaxing even as the chaos of a photoshoot mills around him. The photographer calling things out, a closed off partition where people are arguing about clothes and makeup, the requisite table of food and crew taking bites from it between running around. 

It’s not his photoshoot, but it still feels familiar. Like coming home, which Dream didn’t think he would feel after― 

But, Lucienne strongly recommended that he get out of his apartment, to be around people that aren’t her. Or his sister. Or his therapist, Matthew. 

So next week he will be having a photoshoot with Robert Gadling, someone that Lucienne seemed to approve of, and he’s learnt the brutal way that he should trust her more. Pulling his black coat tighter around him, he’s been avoiding where the camera’s pointing, re-familiarising himself with everything else first. 

Finally looking towards the main scene, there are many people ― but with just the picture Lucienne gave him, he’s easily able to spot Gadling, leaning against the wall, stare intense towards the camera. And Dream suddenly feels hotter, taking in the brown-and-grey hair and dark eyes, Gadling’s beard looking soft and touchable. 

And most absurd of all, is the ordinary clothes he wears. A brown leather jacket with a grey shirt underneath, belts and jeans and shoes so normal but Dream swallows, brain trying to figure out how this Gadling is the hottest model he’s seen in all his years in the industry, the plain clothes almost sinful. The peek of chest hair from his top, the way the jeans are across the crotch, bordering on obscene, the way it makes Dream’s mouth water. 

Did the man sell his soul to the devil? And he has to be near all that next week?! And function?! 

Any lingering doubts over his libido are quashed as Gadling’s eyes pass over to him, and it feels like the molten core of the Earth bursts in his veins as Gadling moves, settling into a different pose on the wall, hands in his jeans pockets. Dream’s mouth waters as he thinks about sitting in the spot in front of him, hands reaching towards jeans to― 

Apparently, the other people leave, but Dream doesn’t know, eyes stuck on Gadling as they are. Gadling stops looking towards him ― or, the camera, he reminds himself as someone comes over and gives him another jacket, more blood-red leather than the brown as Gadling nods and another touch of makeup gets put on him.

Dream can only watch, spellbound and body tingling as his blood rushes every way as Gadling moves to sit on a chair, intense stare still directed at the camera, and at Dream himself.

Then the photographer calls for lunch and Gadling smiles, lighting up the whole room as he stands up, bouncing on the heels of his feet and Dream blinks as Gadling heads straight for him. “Did our shoot get moved up? Right. Sorry. You can call me Hob, and we’re going to,” Gadling―Hob enthuses, a warm hand brushing onto his shoulder as he gestures.

“No. It is still next week,” he says as Hob breathes, huddling close to him with a soft smile, and Dream thinks that this might be even worse, the warmth from Hob, the bright grin and a faint smell of lemon and bergamot, “I wanted to get the lay of the land first.” 

Hob, still smiling, nods, and Dream doesn’t even feel like protesting as Gadling loosely takes his elbow, guiding them over to the food table. “Ah. Hope you’re still up for it, then!” Gadling says with a particular tone, which Dream’s unable to parse between all the warmth he can feel, the soft smile and brown eyes looking at him as Hob gets a mini custard tart to eat. “Honestly, I was so shocked when you, well, your agent confirmed it that I had to ask my roommate to pinch me, because your work’s so great and―sorry, again. I ramble,” Hob tugs at his ear and Dream blinks. “Also, I keep touching you. Tactile bastard, me,” Hob says with a chuckle. 

Dream blinks and Hob gets another tart, seemingly in no hurry for Dream to speak―”I do not. Mind. It is fine,” he says, surprising himself by meaning it, even with how stilted it comes out as Hob leans against the table, expression intently focused on him and what little words he says. “And you do not mind what―surely, you heard what happened,” he trails off as Hob finishes off another tart, apparently a favourite for him. 

Hob blinks and leans closer, not in a looming way, more for sharing secrets. “I heard bits, but I’m not gonna hold it against you, if that’s what you’re thinking. And honestly, just tell me to bugger off or stop something during our shoot and I definitely will. The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable.” 

The way it’s said, like it’s reasonable and okay, floors him as he tries to get his brain together, not helped with how attractive Hob in general is, and Dream tries not to lean closer to him, like he’s not helplessly magnetised. “I. Thank you. For the consideration.”

Hob’s brow furrows and Dream’s fingers twitch as Hob puts some hair behind his ear, “not so much consideration as common decency, I think. So. Curiosity sated, or will you stay to watch me flail about more?” Hob nods towards the area dedicated to the shoot, brown eyes sparkling. 

And. Well. “You do not flail,” he points out and Hob laughs, bright and loud. The sound of it is infectious, and Dream stops his lips twitching into a smile, feeling proud that he got such a response. Even though he’s sure that Hob laughs a lot, freely and openly. “I have nothing else to do.” There is ― fantasy book drafts in his notebooks, scribbled ideas of clothes and fashion, something gothic and avant-garde that he’s on a rough deadline for, but, Lucienne did have a point, much as he didn’t want to agree with it. 

“Oh, now I have to step up my game,” Hob says, a quick brush shoulder-to-shoulder as someone comes over and motions for Hob to return to make-up, which Hob agrees to with a nod. “Can’t disappoint you, after all.” 

Hob leaves him with a smile, and Dream takes one of the tarts to nibble on, settling on the far wall as Hob gets back into the shoot, easy smiles and demeanour melting off for the broody and intensity of the character he’s portraying, Dream’s shoulder gently burning with the long-gone touches. 

-

Robert Gadling, he learns while looking up Hob’s other photoshoots, is also an actor, starring in smaller roles but slowly gaining traction. And on the day of the fated shoot, Dream tries not to think about that one particular photoshoot Hob was in as they get put into suits, Dream a classic black with a red dress shirt and black tie, hair styled into a windswept mess with the help of lots of hairspray.

And Hob in a matching suit, but with a deep purple shirt. The photoshoot that Dream stared at for a very long time while looking up his fellow model involved Hob in a sharp suit coat, leather gloves and pointed shoes, which he eventually figured out was being sold. And certainly not the idea of a Hob Gadling like that stepping on you, which Dream definitely didn’t think about in detail in bed, as he saved the pictures. 

The photographer, one Johanna Constantine, took a look at them and nodded before barking orders with the set, and Dream tugs at the bottom of his suit jacket, nervousness blooming as the reality of it all becomes more solid.

Their makeup is minimal, apart from lip gloss on Dream’s end. With eyeliner on Hob’s, brown eyes even more arresting as they stare at him. Constantine is still working things out it seems, as they sit in the make-up chairs, waiting for the call. “You good?” 

“Yes,” he says after a deep breath, the set, Hob, everything unlike that time, the harrowing time afterwards. Hob smiles and knocks their shoes together briefly. 

“Constantine may be a hard-ass, but she’ll listen. One time with her, well, she may have punched someone out because I kept saying it wasn’t nice,” Hob offers with a shrug and Dream gapes. “They were fine, of course, and she got into trouble for it, but she will take out anything that, you know,” Hob says, gesturing expansively towards the photographer, who Dream can’t stop himself from admiring now, just a bit. “She’s good to us models.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

-

The photoshoot starts off slow, some standing in the same room, white walls and glass tables, and a red chaise lounge. Eventually drifting closer and closer ― then Hob puts a blunt switchblade to the edge of his throat, the blade facing the camera as Dream is given his own blade, to put on the other side of Hob’s neck as the camera shutter constantly clicks. 

Dream can almost see the story unravelling as their blades are taken away, distrust but tension and his heart jumps into his throat as Hob pulls him closer by his tie, the length of it getting curled around his hand as they stare at each other. As Dream grabs onto the knot of Hob’s silk tie, loosening it. 

Constantine’s orders filter through a far-off place, pulse racing as Hob’s eyes become softer, awe and devotion showing as Dream leans closer, his cheek eventually pressing into the stubble of Hob’s chin, soft and prickly, hiding some of Hob’s face from the camera. “Okay, now look down,” Constantine says and he does, looking at his hand on Hob’s tie, at the soft skin of his neck. 

“Good?” Hob asks quietly, a breath against his ear and Dream swallows a shiver, never realising how cold he was, with Hob as a column of heat, almost engulfed with it as Hob’s other hand, not on his own tie, touches his hip. 

“No complaints,” he replies without moving his lips, voice an octave lower as the tension stretching between them as the hand on hip presses in, can feel nails over fabric and Dream turns his head, their noses brushing, lips almost― 

“Break time,” Constantine barks out and Dream almost swallows his tongue, frustration lingering as Hob moves away, dark eyes sharp and bright. Dream resists leaning back in, the cold of the room bracing as Hob smiles, a loose grip on his wrist pulling him along to the food table. 

“Didn’t think we were working that long,” Hob mumbles, letting go of his wrist to pick at some strawberries, and Dream hums. Blood rushing hot, Dream gets one of the cold cold cucumber sandwiches, nibbling it as the crisp cool refreshes him, and as Hob weaves stories of another set he was on, where every minute felt like an hour, not helped by how much of an entitled prick one of the main actor’s was. 

Dream listens attentively as they finish their food and are whisked off to get their make-up touched up, their jackets taken off. Soon enough, they’re back to the set, this time closer to the chaise. And very close, Hob’s body heat making his tingle― 

And then Dream has to put his hand on Hob’s cheek, greying stubble under his palm as Hob’s hands go to undo his tie, eyes dark and focused on his face. Once again, Constantine’s orders go to some distant place, overwhelmed by the feel of Hob, the soft skin and prickly stubble, his hand going down the other’s jaw, to the edge of stubble on his neck. 

Then Hob’s thumb traces up his neck, the touch scalding hot that Dream doesn’t even realise that Hob’s going back down to his shirt. Constantine’s now the top button comes through and something cold runs down Dream’s spine as Hob slowly unbuttons his shirt―then a second button and― 

He’s attracted to Hob, there’s no denying that, but the undercurrent of fear and disgust, of the shape of what he dealt with― 

“No,” someone says, and it takes for a moment to realise that he’s the one that said it as Hob pulls his hand away, Hob’s brows furrowing. The relief is immediate, guilt and disappointment following after, a complex tangle of emotions as Constantine makes a sound. 

“Hobsie, you okay with Dream undoing your shirt?” Constantine barks and Hob tenses, looking towards the photographer and nodding. “Dream?” 

Dream manages to tear his eyes away to look at Constantine, as he nods and takes his hands off of Hob, taking a step back to breathe. “I apologise,” he croaks.

Constantine scoffs, “nothin’ to apologise for. Now, stop slacking off,” she orders, lifting up her camera with an eyebrow raise. 

“What she said,” Hob says, briefly showing a bright smile and Dream rolls his eyes. Taking another deep breath, he steps closer, next breath filled with the lemon and bergamot of Hob’s cologne, of the warm fabric under his hands as they rest on Hob’s chest. 

Hob’s look becomes soft and intense as he undoes the first button of Hob’s shirt ― and he can hear Constantine grumbling, more to herself then them, this might be even better actually―considering Hob’s closer to the chaise lounge, as he gently forces Hob onto it, the awe in those lined brown eyes making him shiver. Or maybe it’s Hob’s hands going to his hips as Dream undoes another button, chest hair showing. 

The tips of Dream’s fingers tingle and twitch as he slowly unbuttons Hob’s shirt, brain caught on the soft patch of chest hair as he sits on top of Hob, thighs pressed against Hob’s hip, the other’s groin against his, a searing warmth under him as Hob reclines onto the chaise. 

Dream bites down a shiver as a thumb manages to get under his shirt, the hot touch of it on the skin under his shirt all he can focus on for the moment. Perfect. Make the people wish they were you, he hears Constantine say, and his first thought is that he wishes he was doing this without a full crew in the same room, as he reaches the end of Hob’s shirt, revealing a dark happy trail going into black trousers. Straddling Hob as he is, he can feel how wet he is and hopes that the other man doesn’t.

His insides clench as he stares at where their bodies meet, and a sound gets pulled from him as Hob’s hand ― furthest from the camera, brushes his jaw, forcing his head up, his eyes meeting Hob’s, and Dream’s own hands rest on the other’s stomach, dark hair under his fingers. 

Hob cups his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek in the same tempo of the one under his shirt and Dream’s mind crashes, his hands travelling up Hob’s chest, feeling hair under his fingers and Hob continues to stare at him, devotion simple to see. He can almost feel it, making his tingle as Hob looks up at him, as his hands go further up and his hands stop. 

Looking down, he can’t see the scars below Hob’s nipples, covered by hair, but he can feel them, a line of scars, reminding Dream of his own. Though, his own had been made more invisible, compared to the one’s on Hob, and he blinks, staring at Hob in surprise, whose eyebrows raise. 

Whatever thoughts he had about the revelation disappear as the hand under his shirt moves, fingers pressing into his lower back as Hob starts to sit up, his crotch pressed flush against Hob’s, as the other’s face rests on his shoulder, prickly stubble brushing against his neck. Constantine says something, but he can’t catch it over his heart beating in his ear, over the way Hob’s breaths take all his attention, the hand on his jaw moving down his throat, brushing against his shirt and eventually resting against his hip. 

“Meet with me after?” Hob asks quietly, and Dream suppresses a shiver at how he can feel Hob’s words from his chest, can feel his throat moving against his skin.

“And if I say no?” He wrangles out, voice low and the hand under his shirt digs into his skin momentarily as Hob moves back to look at him, eyeliner making the brown of his eyes seem even more darker and Dream tries not to lean in, caught in the gaze as he is.

“Then it’s a no,” Hob replies, shrugging lightly. “So?” 

Dream can count on one hand, the times he’s gone through with the simmering tension that’s happened on photoshoots, but this time it seems more inevitable than most, with the way that Hob seems to warm him up to his bones from the lightest of touches. “Perhaps.”

-

Hob’s car is a “silver monstrosity” as described by the man himself, but Dream’s not interested in it, only that it can get them to the hotel Hob’s staying at. With Hob in jeans and bright pink Miskatonic University hoodie that Hob’s wearing, he wants to get his hands on Hob’s scorching skin again, his own black skinny jeans and band shirt feeling restrictive at the thought. Rolling down the window to let some air in, as well as stopping to stare at his reflection as Hob starts the car, there’s only one thing on his mind ― well, two. “Robert. Really?” He asks, skeptical. 

Hob laughs and shrugs, “I started life with a fancy name, when really, I’m just a guy.” 

Dream squints at the other man, “just a guy,” he repeats, still skeptical. Hob offers another shrug, and the conversation swiftly moves on. Well, Hob picks another thing to talk about, the words relaxing him as he stares out the window, listening to Hob’s gossip from a recent acting job he’s working on.

The soft tones of Hob’s voice settles under his skin as they reach the hotel, and as they get into the mirrored elevator, he realises that Hob still has the eyeliner from the shoot on. Reaching the desired floor, Hob loosely holds his hand, pulling him along until Hob stops and gets out his keycard, opening the door to his room. “Tea? Coffee? Or…” Hob trails off as Dream gives him a flat stare, “it’s polite!”

“Or,” he drawls, leaning forward to kiss Hob, the door shutting behind him as he gets his hands on the other’s stubbled jaw again. An oh is exhaled against him as they move towards the queen-size bed, Hob’s hands gripping his waist as Dream straddles him once more as they continue to share messy kisses, with plenty of Dream biting at the stubble around his lips, the soft and prickly feeling against his tongue pleasing. 

“Whatever you want,” Hob says, mouth unoccupied as Dream bites down his jaw, forcing his head back as he sucks marks into the stubble under Hob’s jaw, pleasure fizzling in his veins at finally being able to do so. Hob’s skin is warm underneath him, and he can feel the other’s racing pulse against his tongue as Hob’s fingers dig into his hips. 

A hand goes into soft brown hair as they continue kissing, and Dream feels smug as he pulls away from it and Hob follows, biting into his lips. In between those, Dream tugs off Hob’s hoodie, then the threadbare grey shirt under it to put his other hand on Hob’s chest, hair curling around his fingers as they kiss again. 

Just like before, Hob’s hands trail under his shirt and he shivers, quickly taking his shirt off in between biting kisses, and Dream lets out a happy whine as his chest comes into contact with Hob’s, only just restraining himself from rubbing their chests together. Though, with the way Hob laughs into his mouth, the intent seems clear as he holds onto the other’s hair, flush against Hob’s chest as he slides down and―oh.

A hard feeling against his crotch, thoughts derailing as he looks down, unable to see anything past their chests pressed against each other. Hob gives him a look from under his lashes, chin resting against his collarbone, “had to wear one of those cock sleeves for our shoot, otherwise…” Hob trails off, and Dream lets out a moan as a hand caresses his spine as Hob blinks up at him, skin tingling as he swoops in for another kiss, deeper and filthier as he grinds down onto the hardness underneath him.

Hob’s free hand comes up to his neck, gripping it lightly, a thumb swiping across his cheek as they kiss, sloppy and wet as Dream bites into Hob’s lips, into the stubble surrounding his mouth as his insides twist with heat. He shivers as Hob’s other hand moves to his front, fingers trailing down the dark hair from his stomach, slowly undoing his pants, and he has to break the kiss to gasp as a hand goes inside―with Hob making a triumphant sound as a finger goes inside his cunt. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Hob whispers, beard scratching down his neck, teeth nipping as well and Dream shudders as another finger goes inside him, fingers curling and twisting and making pleasure spark behind his eyes as he desperately holds onto Hob’s shoulder, other hand going to his hair as he melts. “Is this for me?” 

He can only cry out as Hob’s fingers, skilled and so warm continue to curl inside, and he can feel himself leaking even more around them, as other fingers press against his folds, massaging him gently. “Hob,” he breathes, voice cracking as he grinds onto them. 

“It is,” Hob sounds amazed, and Dream opens his eyes, confused when he shut them as Hob ― stares at him, awe and admiration plain on his face as Hob’s fingers reach deeper, the slow steady bliss making it so Hob is all he can feel, the fingers and warth, the body heat surrounding him as he whines, Hob sucking on his collarbones and up his neck. “You feel so,” Hob groans, another finger being put inside his cunt and he shivers, one of his hands scratching down Hob’s chest. 

“Hob,” he keens, fluid leaking down his thighs, still feeling Hob’s hardness pressed against him―but nowhere close enough. “Need you inside.” 

The hardness against him twitches and Hob whines, licking up his throat as his fingers continue to twist and stretch inside him, “not yet.” Fingers brush against that spot inside, other fingers brushing against his clit and dick and he writhes, orgasm meeting him absurdly quickly and he can only gasp as Hob’s fingers press and curl maddeningly, still relentless through his orgasm, whimpering at come he can feel leaking around warm fingers. 

“Inside,” he orders, voice a croak as Hob laughs, licking up his neck―and Hob’s fingers are still inside as there’s an awkward shuffle to get rid of shoes and pants. With more laughter as from Hob as Dream squirms out of his skinny jeans, Hob’s other hand resting on the small of his back and not helping at all, as somehow he manages it while straddling Hob still, settling fully back onto Hob’s lap once naked, feeling hairy thighs and a hard cock pressed against him as he can’t help but kiss Hob more. 

“I don’t have, I wasn’t―” Hob mumbles says between feverish kisses, fingers twisting inside him and Dream groans, his own fingers tangling into Hob’s hair as he nibbles at the other’s bearded chin. 

“I’m clean,” he throws caution to the wind, and Hob stops, pulling back from the kiss to give him a shocked stare. Dream sets his jaw as Hob opens his mouth, shuts it. 

“I mean, I am too, but still,” Hob stutters, hand on his back fluttering with a gesture and Dream resists rolling his eyes, tugging Hob in by his hair for a kiss. Hob shudders, gasping into him and Dream hums in pride. “If you’re sure,” Dream tugs Hob’s hair, and Hob groans, cock twitching against his cunt, which Dream would rather die than to not feel it―”okay, okay,” Hob strangles out, something like fondness in his tone. 

The fingers leave him and he whines at the loss, looking down to watch as the other’s cock enters him, and Dream gasps at the thickness, the warmth of it, can feel Hob shake under him, nails gripping his hips tightly. “Yes,” he breathes, and Hob lets out a strangled swear as he takes the rest of Hob in, slamming down on his cock, and he moans at the feeling. 

“Dream,” Hob keens, a hand coming up to his throat, tugging him into a sloppy press of lips, and Dream moans at the feel of chest hair on his dick as he presses down, pulling himself up to settle into a rhythm, the cockhead inside of him hitting that spot that makes him see stars, warming him up from within as he squeezes around Hob’s cock. “Fuck.” 

Aside from Hob’s exclamations, there’s the sound of skin-on-skin, and Dream can feel sweat gathering on Hob’s chest―or maybe a mixture of sweat and slickness as he chases his the pleasure heating him up, the constant cold he’s been feeling chased away due to the heat from Hob.

Time has only passed by the slowly building pleasure as he continues to ride Hob’s cock, in no hurry even as Hob’s whines become even louder, teeth biting into his throat―and Dream’s next breath is punched out of him as a finger enters him, another―two fingers on the top of Hob’s cock, curling inside, the rest of the fingers pressing against his dick, and he comes with a whine, gasping into Hob’s hair as his walls squeeze the other’s cock. 

There’s a groan as Hob comes, even more fluids filling him, and he can feel it leaking around Hob’s cock, his fingers as they gather their breath. The fingers leave him, making him squeeze Hob’s softening dick tightly, “stay,” he gasps, resting his forehead against Hob’s temple as he throws his arms around the other’s shoulders. 

“Bossy,” Hob murmurs, smiling and Dream’s cunt leaks as Hob puts his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. “You know, I’d love to tug on your hair too, but I wouldn’t want to break it,” Hob’s other hand goes to the back of his neck and Dream scoffs, almost affronted as he touches it―

And he freezes, nose scrunching as he feels the tacky and stiff hairspray, still in it from the photoshoot. “A shower, then,” he proposes, then frowns, the feeling of Hob, even soft, not being inside him not something he wants to think about. “One more, then shower,” he amends. 

“What?” Hob pouts, arms going around his waist, dark eyes blinking up at him, “how about one more in the shower, a quick one, then we can come back to this?” Hob argues, eyes sparkling even with the harsh hotel lights. 

Dream works his jaw, pulling away from the other’s face with a sigh. “It might be acceptable.” 

“Might be,” Hob repeats, shaking his head and sighing, and Dream groans as Hob leaves him, sliding out from underneath as Hob puts a hand out, “come on. Sooner we shower, sooner we can get back,” Hob says with a wriggle of his fingers, eyes dark and sparkling.

Huffing, Dream curls up on the bed, hiding a smirk behind an arm as Hob’s eyes rove over him, “if you insist.”  

[Fin]

[dsireland86]

I recently had a precious request hit my inbox anonymously regarding a Jolly fic where he and the reader are in a relationship. He's homesick, so the reader decides to make him a Kladdkaka, which is a Swedish cake, to help cheer him up.

Somehow, Tumblr screwed up, and the draft I was working on got deleted 😒 💔

So, here I am fixing a mistake and hope whoever it was that asked for the one-shot, enjoys it!

TAGS: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986

KLADDKAKA

"Noah, you were supposed to have Jolly out of the house by now! What's going on?"

You fussed at Noah quietly, hoping your husband did overhear.

"Annnd I already told you..."

"Shhhhh!"

"I already told you," Noah repeated, quieter this time, "that I have it covered. I'll have him out of here in a few. Stop worrying."

You threw your hands over your face, trying to hide the worry and concern you were having over this whole thing.

Today wasn't just an ordinary day. It was your day with your husband, with Jolly. It was your one year wedding anniversary, and you were determined to make this first year celebration perfect for him. Especially since he was feeling a little more homesick than usual.

The past few days had been hard on Jolly. His family back in Sweden was going through some tough stuff, and it was killing Jolly that he couldn't be there, helping and supporting them like they've always supported him. Even though his mother insisted everything was fine and it would all work out, it didn't stop Jolly from worrying and feeling just plain homesick. It hurt you deeply to see him this way. However, Jolly did what he always did best, and that was put on a happy face and tried to convince you that he was fine. But you saw right through it. So you came up with a plan, recruited Noah, and dived in head first this morning into executing said plan.

"How can I not worry when you know I do nothing but worry, Noah! Worry is my middle name!"

"Y/N, calm down." Noah sat his glass of water down on the counter and placed his large hands on your small shoulders.

"Look at me."

You did, instantly relaxing when you saw the soft sweetness in Noah's eyes.

"I've got you, okay? I know how important this day is for you both. I'm not going to let anything ruin it, including my procrastination."

You laughed, wiping away the few tears that slid down your cheeks.

"Hey, come here," Noah cooed, pulling you in and coddling you for a moment. You relaxed, knowing fully well he was right and that you could trust him.

"It's going to be fine, Y/N. In two days the two of you will be in Sweden, eating all of that weird ass chocolate cake you both like, and having the perfect anniversary getaway."

"It's call Kalddkaka," you irritatingly corrected him, shoving him gently in the chest.

"Well, whatever, the point is, what you're doing for Jolly is the sweetest thing I've ever seen somebody do for the person they love. And regardless if it's your anniversary or not, what you're doing is incredible."

You smiled up at Noah and hugged him tighter, thankful for his support and friendship

"You're great girl, Y/N, an awesome friend and an even more amazing wife. Jolly's lucky to have you."

"You bet your ass I am. Are you hitting on my wife, Skitstövel!"

Jolly came walking into the kitchen, wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of worn-out jeans, with his bare feet patting loudly across the tile floor. His long dark brown hair, which was normally down, was tied up in a loose bun, showing off his perfectly angled jawline.

"Hahaha, yeah, no, I'm not that stupid," Noah joked as soon as you pulled away from him.

"Smart man,"Jolly praised, sliding his arms around your waist the second your arms wrapped around his neck. He lifted you up, and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, taking his handsome face between your hands and kissing him.

"Mmmm, god yeah, I need that," Jolly smiled between your kisses. He sat you on the countertop, lightly caressing your back as you continued to attack his lips.

Your lips trailed from their sweetness over his cheek and jawline, brushing the fine hairs of his trimmed facial hair, and then down the side of his neck. You breathed him in, soaking up the warmth of his skin, feeling his chest move in and out with each breath he took.

"Mmm, happy anniversary to you, too, again, mi Älskling," Jolly sighed, slipping his hands around your neck. He trailed them all over, lightly messaging your shoulders and the back of your neck and snaking their way up into your hair, massaging your scalp tenderly. You let your head fall into his chest as he did this, feeling all the extra unnecessary stress instantly fall away.

"Did your mom call you?"

"Hmmm, she did. Told me things are getting better, but I don't believe her. I need to get over there to see her, Y/N, all of them. I miss them."

You looked up into your husband's handsome face, taking a moment to drink him in. It was then you really saw how tired he looked. Jolly seriously needed a vacation. Luckily, you had one planned for him and you as an anniversary gift. Ten days in Sweden with his family; no work, no music, no responsibility. Just the two of you.

"That smells delicious!"

You pulled the cake out of the oven and sat it on the counter just as Matt and Folio walked into the kitchen. The Kladdkaka turned out perfectly; at least you hoped it did. It was the first time ever making it. You wanted to give Jolly a piece of home to help cheer him up and it would go along perfectly with his anniversary gift.

"Ok, I'm not a chocolate cake kind of guy, but damn Y/N, that looks delicious."

You smiled at Matt, admiring your creation. The dark brown top was baked to the perfect crispiness and when you tapped the cake pan, it jiggled ever so slightly, just like the directions said it should, giving you hope that the inside was baked to the correct consistency.

"Can we eat it?"

"No! It's for Jolly, for our anniversary," you scolded Folio. He was grinning and had a slight glazed look in his eyes.

"Folio, are you high?"

Matt looked at you then at Folio, grinning from ear to ear, before busting out in laughter.

"Oh my god, you are!" you said, joining him and Matt in laughter.

"Okay, okay, I'm not that high. I just took some gummies, that's all."

"That's all huh? How many?"

You looked from Matt to Folio, waiting for his response.

Folio looked as if he was in trouble. "Umm, I don't know, not a lot," he giggled. "Like three, maybe."

You rolled your eyes, knowing Folio's high would last him the rest of the night.

"Great! Now I'm going to have to babysit your ass just to make sure you don't do anything stupid," Matt groaned.

Folio giggled again, making you snicker.

"What is this about, mi Älskling," Jolly questioned you as you made him sit down on the couch. You were so excited to give him his gifts, that your could barely contain your excitement.

"You'll see. Just wait right there, okay."

Jolly's brown eyes stared at you in wonder, lighting up the moment they met yours.

"Come here first" His hand was stretched out towards you. You took it and he pulled you into his lap where he nestled his face in the crook of your neck, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

"I love you, Y/N, my wife, my woman, my love." he mumbled against your skin. making you smile.

"I love you, too, Jolly," you responded, looking down into his face. His hair was down, so you gathered it up in your hands and pulled it back, caressing the side of his face. He hummed, then pulled your face closer to his before snatching your lips with his own. It was a very slow kiss, passionate and heated, making you dizzy with desire and longing to hurry this moment up so you could take him upstairs and give him his "other gift".

"Mmm, okay," you stressed, regretfully pushing away from Jolly. "I want to, baby, I want this so much, but I want you to have your gifts first."

Jolly kissed you again, smiling against your lips.

"Well, then I'm so glad I got you something, too."

"Joakim, this isn't about gifts," you frowned.

Jolly grinned. He knew you hated getting gifts. You found joy in the giving, not the getting. But he was positive that you were going to love his gift.

"Okay, fine, whatever, just wait right there," you giggled, running into the kitchen.

Moments later, you carefully carried out the tray with the Kladdkaka and the envelope on it after telling your husband to close his eyes.

"No peaking," you squealed with excitement.

Jolly smiled, big, tightly keeping his eyes closed.

You sat the tray down the coffee table before him, careful removing the lid.

"Okay," you sighed, wringing your hands in excitement. "Open them!"

Jolly opened his eyes and stared at the cake before him. The dark brown color, coated with the powdery white sugar on top and garnished with the few dark red raspberries, instantly reminded him of home. His dark brown eyes welled up with tears as memories of his childhood and home came rushing back.

"Mi Älskling," he gasped, barely above a whisper. "You did this? All for me?"

At first, you thought he hated it, but now, looking into his eyes swollen with tears, you knew he really loved it. The moment made your heart almost exploded with happiness.

"You really like?" you asked in a worry filled tone.

"Like it? Baby, I love it!"

Jolly reached out and pulled you back into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

"Well, the true test is how it tastes. I mean it looks pretty, yeah, but I have no idea what the inside's like."

"I'm sure it's perfect; like you," Jolly praised, kissing your cheek.

You blushed, cutting a small slice.

"That looks exactly like how my grandmother used to make it!"

You broke a small piece off and picking it up with the fork, you brought it to your husband's lips where he opened his mouth and devoured the bite, closing his eyes.

You held your breath, praying it tasted okay.

"Well?" you asked as he finally swallowed.

"Fuck... that's good."

"Yeah?!" you smiled

"Yeah. Fucking good!"

You squealed in delight, as Jolly took the plate from you and gave you a piece to try and, damn it was so good.

"Okay, one more gift. Here," you grinned, handing him the envelope after hopping off his lap.

Jolly frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Umm, what's that?"

"What do you mean? It's an envelope. Open it."

Jolly reached behind him, producing the same kind of envelope.

"Ummm..."

"Yeah," he chuckled.

"Okay, well you open yours and I'll open mine."

You took the envelope and slowly opened it, as did Jolly.

"Close our eyes?"

He nodded.

You did, pulling out the contents of the envelope. When you opened them you gasped, eyes filling up with tears instantly. In your hands were two plane tickets to Ireland; you're most favorite place in the world, next to Jolly's arms. You looked up at Jolly and he was staring down at the tickets in his hand. You watched the tear drop fall and hit the paper, soaking it immediately.

"Are you okay," you whispered through your tears.

Jolly wiped his eyes, then looked up at you.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered, lightly shaking his head.

You let out a small chuckle.

"I don't deserve you," nodding at the tickets in your hand.

Jolly stood up and reached for your hands. After pulling you up, he scooped you up bridal style and kissed you once you threw your arms around his neck.

"Is this how it's always going to be?" he asked, walking towards the stairs with you tucked securely in arms.

"No, we both know it won't be."

"Hmm, well, " he said taking the stairs, one at a time. "Then lets hold on tight to memories like this, bringing them back to the light when things are too dark and don't seem real. I don't ever want to loose you."

You held onto your husband, burying your face in his chest as your fingers trailed up the back of his neck, feeling his skin prickle.

"Do you feel that?"

"Yes." He shivered beneath your touch.

Jolly looked down at you, standing outside the doorway of your bedroom.

"I am here, Joakim, and I'm real. I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

He kissed you, rolling his tongue over yours.

"You promise," he asked once you parted.

"I promise."

He walked you over the threshold of your room, just like he did on your wedding night one year ago, and with his foot, closed the door, locking you both away from the world for just one night.

[kanekoii]

a breakfast date with shu yamino (100 follower special)

lyra’s notes -> did i write out the whole damn date with him? perchance. it’s my 100 special so it’s gotta be good yk?

pairing -> shu yamino x gn! reader

genre -> a long ass scenario fic

song -> stops making sense - dayglow

warnings -> food mentions throughout, one singular use of name “darling”

the sun wormed its way through the curtains of your room on a warm morning. it was still relatively early, you figured to yourself as you essentially rolled out of bed and checked your phone, seeing a text from shu asking if you wanted to get breakfast with him in an hour and a half or so. even if he was your boyfriend and had been for a few months now, he never failed to make your heart flutter a bit with his romantic actions. once you texted him a reply that you would be happy to meet him for a date, you got in return a purple heart emoji.

shu had woken up not much before you had, just wanting to take you on a date that spanned a whole day like in his dreams. when you agreed, he couldn’t be happier as he jumped out of bed and began getting ready. he hummed to himself gently as he styled his hair and put together an outfit. he usually wears glasses when not streaming, so he’d have those set aside on his bathroom’s counter while he washes his face using the sink. he was still in his pajamas, just lavender purple plaid pants and a plain black shirt. his hair was messy and his eyes still held the smallest traces of sleepiness in them as he looked at himself in the mirror before running a shower.

you dressed in the clothes that made you feel best, that’s how shu liked it anyway. he’s happy when you’re comfortable and happy with what you’re wearing, so you dressed in that. the restaurant he suggested was a bistro in the nearby city’s downtown area. wouldn’t it be such a perfect day to walk or bike there, you thought to yourself as you strolled a few streets down to shu’s apartment. when he opened the door, you got a good look at his outfit for the day: black jeans, black combat boots, a dusty purple colored t-shirt that was slightly baggy on him, a deep purple belt around the waistline of his pants, only visible because his shirt was tucked in slightly, and a necklace with a penguin charm on it. his hair was tied into a messy ponytail at the back of his head, purple streaks poking through at some points. the front of his hair was relatively the same, pink streaks framing his face. the only different from how he usually did his hair was that his blonde bangs seemed more tamed than usual and hung over one of his eyes a little.

he squinted since he didn’t have his glasses on yet, but he was very vocal about the fact that just because his vision was blurry didn’t mean you weren’t the most attractive person he’d ever seen! he’d stumble around before he put on his glasses, deep purple eyes no longer squinting and able to fully see how absolutely adorable you are! when you asked if he wanted to bike to the bistro he suggested only to be met with the question of if you had brought your bike at all, shu couldn’t help but kiss your forehead! he knows it’s cheesy but just seeing you think and try to figure out things is so endearing to him! he’s super big brain, and you are too to him, even if you aren’t the smartest in reality.

his question of “can we both just use mine?” surely didn’t signal you that you would be sat in the little basket on the back of the seat, wrapping your body around him for support as the both of you laugh from joy and adrenaline. he had put on a jacket before you left, just plain black. you buried your face into the hood to avoid the air whipping your face (seeing as he was biking pretty fast by now) and inhaled his calming scent that was present in the fabric, in his hair, on his skin. he smelled like a campfire. not a bad kind of fire, a warm and comfortable one that reminds you of warm summer nights spent with friends around a fire, laughing and sharing stories and eating s’mores until the sun had risen.

breakfast with shu wasn't anything particularly special, just the both of you ordering filling breakfasts and a caffeinated drink of choice. for him, it was coffee with a vanilla flavored cream to balance out the bitterness of it. he couldn't help but smile so happily when he spends time with you, offering you a freshly picked flower upon leaving the restaurant. he knows you have things to do but he wanted to make your morning a little bit better by tucking the fresh flower behind your ear with a quiet “i love you so much. have a nice day, darling”.

[the-fluff-piece]

Just a little bit of rice

a tiny fanfic about a misunderstanding inspired by this post (the picture is also taken from there) I just love it when Law eats rice. Totally sfw with a kiss at the end

I hope you like it - check out my other works below

My Masterlist - Short and Multichapter stories

Headcanon Masterlist

You are on kitchen duty on the worst possible day - it's another 'submarine is swimming through volcanic underwater area' - day and the whole ship is more like a sauna than anything else. The stove is heating up the small room even more and you are glad there is a small window to the common room to let out the heat even a little bit. Lunch hours are over, there are just some leftover rice balls for your captain.

Your boiler suit is zipped open and hanging down for addition ventilation, you are basically working in your bra, so you hastily zip it up again when someone entered.

Law came in and grumpily shuffled to the counter to his rice balls and sat down for his late lunch with a groan. The two of you have known each other long enough now that you don't have to small talk on every occasion. So you just greeted each other with a nod. You couldn't believe that Law was wearing a long sleeved shirt and jeans in these temperatures, at least he didn't wear his hat or you would have died from heat stroke from the sight alone. His raven black hair is the usual mess and his face is blushing from the heat.

For a while, Law munched in silence as you worked, but you couldn't take the intense heat anymore. "Captain...I'm sorry, it's too hot, would you mind if just opened the suit for a bit?" you ask. He looks up from his meal and nods silently and continues to stuff his cheeks with plain rice.

You pull the zipper down and enjoy the wonderful relief of fresher air around your body and immediately feel better. He is a doctor after all, surely he has seen countless bodies over the years and isn't even interested or flustered anymore.

"Good idea", he comments and peeles out of his shirt, to reveal bis tattooed torso to you. Has it just gotten hotter?

His skin ist glistening and he leans back to stretch as you try not to stare too much but he doesn't seem to notice, like always. Instead he finishes his meal and leans forward over the counter, resting his head on one hand, studying you with lazy eyes.

As you collect the plate, you notice that Law has some rice still stuck on his cheek. It looks adorable! Since he doesn't seem exactly talkative at the Moment you indicate the spot with your finger. He looks puzzled and straightens, raising his eyebrow. You need to smile at his expression and tip the corner of your mouth again, saying "right here", with a wink. He rubs the back of his head while looking left and right, blushing dark red up to his ears. Finally, his light blue eyes meet yours and a whicked grin is spreading across his face. He leans forward over the counter, and, taking your chin into his hand, plants a soft kiss in the corner of your mouth, followed by one squarely on your lips. You purse your lips in response to his and hear his low chuckle.

He breaks away and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. The warm smile and dreamy expression of his face is absolutely baffling to you. "Wha-..Law, what just happened?" you stutter. He looks at you bemused. "You just told me to kiss you", he whispers with the most seductive voice you can imagine, "I was happy to fulfill your wish", he mimics your previous motion by pointing at his own mouth. As he does this, he is feeling the rice in his face and his eyes widen.

"You have a little bit of rice there is what I wanted to say..." you explain.

For a moment he is just staring at you, wide eyed. With a quick movement, he shoves the grains into his mouth and turns a velvet red. He jumps up from the chair and with a mumbled "sorry" he leaves - and turns around, almost stumbling over his own feet, to grab his shirt. With the garment held tightly in front of his bare chest, he flees from the kitchen and out of your sight.

now that you've read the whole thing, let me know if you liked it! Feel free to write me a dm or request.

[nectarinesalt]

TICK // 1.1 - gimme danger

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (language, sexual content)

Word Count: 640

☾

There's nothing in my dreams Just some ugly memories Kiss me like the ocean breeze

Now, if you will be my lover I will shiver and sing But if you can't be my master I will do anything

☾

September 1983 - junior year

"Who does your tattoos, Edward Munson?"

The blunt voice behind him took him off guard, appearing out of nowhere. It didn't even sound like a question. More like a matter-of-fact demand. 

Your voice was thick and dripping like honey. Deeper than the voices of other girls in your school. Eddie was so used to the high-pitched, bubblegum-popping, giggling tones of the artificial female species that wandered the halls of Hawkins High.

The cafeteria around him was bustling with all the usual assholes, but suddenly all he could focus on was the figure of you standing behind him.

Finally turning around to lay eyes on the culprit, Eddie was shocked to see you.

He knew you, of course. Or at least knew of you. 

In the back of his mind, he tried to remember if he had ever even spoken to you before. But he would have remembered your unique voice. Eddie's whole life revolved around sounds, melodies, vibrations. 

You were a year younger than him, being a junior while he was a senior. He recalled seeing you in the crowded hallways. Plain hair. A face that said leave me the fuck alone. Weren’t you a part of the French Club or some shit?

His mind was racing, but still responded to you without any sign of hesitation. There were too many witnesses around for him to let his guard down. Bako and Donny, seated at the table with him, openly stared in awe.

Eddie found his vocal cords. "I do some of them. My uncle has a friend that does some of them."

Your disarming gaze bore into him, squinting for a moment. Eddie took a second to glance down at your clothes. Blue jeans. Gray fitted t-shirt. You were plain. No other word for it.

"How much for one?"

"What?"

"A tattoo. How much do you charge for a tattoo."

Again, you didn’t really ask it as a question. It was less of an innocent query and more of a personal space invasion, a solicitation. Your face gave away not a single emotion or even a hint of a personality.

Eddie scratched his head, acting like he was thinking deeply. He glanced at Donny, who looked at him like well, say something, idiot!

"Well, sunshine, that depends." 

That's all he could think of. Why were you suddenly speaking to him? You had successfully ignored each other for the last however many years.

Your shoulders dropped in annoyance, but you still held onto the lunch tray in your hands. 

"Okay, depends on what?"

A wicked grin painted his lips. At the motion of your shoulders falling, he could easily tell that you definitely weren’t wearing a bra. Your tits were smaller than average, basically nonexistent, but Eddie had x-ray vision at the short distance between you and him.

"Hmm… size, the design… location." Leaning over in the plastic chair, he purposely fixed his eyes on your ample behind.

You scoffed at him, "Cool, you're a real Don Juan. Let's get to the point, yeah? I want a quarter sized half moon on my hip. Just the outline, nothing fancy. Need more info?"

Taking his time to answer, mainly because he suddenly found himself entertained by your impatience, he shrugged. 

"Nah. I'll do it for fifteen bucks."

"Deal. How soon can you do it?"

You were all business and no play. Eddie was enticed by your no-bullshit confidence.

A shocking flash of pink passed behind you: a popular girl chatting excitedly with a football player. Neon pink windbreaker, bleach blonde hair in perfect curls. Eddie observed her.

And then he looked back at you. So ordinary yet so different.

"How does this weekend sound?"

You held your hand out in front of him to shake. Your skin was smooth and warm on his callouses.

"Don't fuck this up, Munson. I'll see you Friday."

☾

There's nothing left alive But a pair of glassy eyes Raise my feelings one more time

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Gimme Danger" by The Stooges)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

[resting in bed, kicking their feet and slaying the fluffy pink pajamas as well as bright fluffy pink socks —for real—] Teehee, I have a writing prompt for you!

Which kind of pajamas the mercs use? How do they sleep with them?

Take care! ^-^

What Kind Of Pajamas Do The TF2 Mercs Wear?

————————————————————

Sometimes I forget people have nice pajamas, I wear a pair of thrifted men's pajama pants with holes and a hoodie 😭 (I love it dw)

Mutual appreciation comment time! Love seeing you pop up! I'm always like ❗️that's my mutual! They're so cool!!!

————————————————————

Demo- This man wears wine mom pj's and I will die on this hill. He wears a shirt that says "wine o'clock!" And has pajama pants with little wine glasses and bottles on them. Has multiple other wine pun-themed pajama shirts, each time he wears one you can feel Scout physically cringe. He's just so silly like that. But I don't think he sleeps in the wine shirts, he just wears them when he has to put a shirt on after he's ready for bed. Also has wine socks, to match his whole outfit ofc.

————————————————————

Engineer- Wears dad pajamas. I'm sorry. But like? He seems like the kind of guy to wear thick ass flannel pajama pants with an equally as thick matching button-up. He's got fuzzy slippers (also flannel). Wears socks with those silly dad socks. Wears the entire get up to bed every night. Such a silly goose!

————————————————————

Heavy- Genuinely wears old man pajamas. Wears a plain T-shirt, some warm pajama pants, and a robe. Has bunny slippers, please let me give this man bunny slippers. I don't know guys, in my head, he's so cartoonish. Sleeps in a bed with a patterned comforter has his slippers on and likes handing out the blanket bc it's too small. Ough, silly guy.

————————————————————

Medic- I'm frothing at the mouth. But I'm also torn. I want to say he dresses up in that goofy-looking "Christmas Carol" nightgown with a nightcap and everything but at the same time? I can imagine this man in either white, pink, or red, silk pajamas, you know the ones. In my mind, fits his whole teen girl vibe. This all implies he sleeps, which is a rarity, but when he does it is very glamorous.

————————————————————

Scout- Minecraft pajamas. Kidding! Half kidding? I think he sleeps in a t-shirt and boxers instead of actual pajamas. Minecraft t-shirts and themed boxers? Yeah. Has some thick pairs of clothes for colder nights. Mainly just some nice pajamas pants and a thick hoodie.

————————————————————

Sniper- No pajamas. Wears jeans and a tank top, and a T-shirt if it's chilly. I don't think this man has ever worn pajamas. But in fairness, I don't think he ever continuously falls asleep. Just works and works and ends up passing out in whatever he's wearing. If he ever does finally decide to actually get some rest he has been known to just sleep in boxers.

————————————————————

Spy- Old Hollywood robe. All I need to say. Has an intense sleep routine, wears an eye mask, puffs up all his pillows, and flops onto his bed dramatically with a sigh after a long day. Dramatic bitch. (loving) Sleeps with a blanket pulled up to his chin, and has like eight fans going. Has to have specific conditions to sleep. Crazy man.

————————————————————

Soldier- I can't tell if this man respects the flag code with every fiber of his being or if he'd wear an entire American flag-themed pajama set. I'll go with a mix of both. Wears sweatpants and one of those cliché 4th of July t-shirts that every beer drinking white dad wears. Or he doesn't wear anything, the TF2 fandom has seemed to deam this man someone who doesn't understand the importance of clothes.

————————————————————

Pyro- Unicorn onesie! Or some other form of onesie. They aren't particular. They like comfortable clothes and bonus points if it's really cute too. Has a collection of them. One time Pyro saw Ppy wearing an eye mask and bought one to try. Looks very silly on top of their gas mask. Overall, all these guys are really silly.

————————————————————

Used the word silly way to much. Probably used goofy too much too. I was in a mood you could say.

I hope you like this! This was a favorite to write:) Sorry it took so long, I got way too tired last night to finish this. Also, hope I answered the question right because I kept second-guessing myself halfway through each one 😭

————————————————————

[captain-mj]

Angels of Digitalism

I have the Rock Star AU y'all ordered! Changed it a little to explain why Soap is interacting with them. Will do a part 2 if asked. Very heavy on the GhostRoach

Soap saw the ad and almost flipped. Simple ad honestly. Digital artist needed. Decent pay but there was a line that said they would be open to negotiation. All of that was interesting sure. 

But the thing that drew his attention was the name of the band asking. 

Angels of Digitalism. 

His favorite fucking band was asking if someone could help them with some digital art. 

Something he did all the time!! He was looking for jobs right now and this was perfect. 

Soap applied immediately and almost immediately got a reply back. A little surprising just how fast they responded. 

“Can you get transportation to this location?” He followed it up with an address. 

Soap checked the distance. “Yeah, it’s not too far.”

“Good. Be here as soon as you can. Like…. Right now.”

“Oh! Okay!” Soap rushed to get dressed. He tried to find some of his better clothing that followed the aesthetic of the band. Ripped jeans and a black t-shirt. After some thought, he decided to do a plain one. He didn’t want to wear a band shirt in case it came off weird. Wearing one of their shirts may seem obsessive but wearing someone else’s may be off putting. A few minutes later and he realized maybe he was putting a little too much thought into his shirt. 

Soap rushed over there and while in the car, he thought over the band. So on paper, there were three members. Ghost, the back up vocalist and guitar player, Roach, the main vocalist, and an unknown masked member that goes on stage and fucks with a computer occasionaly. All of them wore masks, covering all of their faces but occasionally letting their hair down, but the third member didn’t even have a name. There were also drums and other instruments, but they weren’t done by a person, but by algorithms and bots. It was part of the appeal. A mix of techno and old style punk that was the whole point. Soap genuinely loved the music, but there was also the performances. It made sense that they’d need a digital artists. A lot of it was based on lights, colors and costuming. Well… So were most performances Soap realized after thinking about it for a minute. But he loved watching their concerts. 

The two of them danced so well. Both of them being so attractive did not hurt. During the last performance, Roach had been shirtless and he did some… Soap had watched Magic Mike and that had been the closest thing he had seen to the dancing he had done on Ghost, all while he continued to play guitar like nothing was happening. 

Also, there was occasionally a person that appeared. It was always confusing because they could never be photographed but 

Soap already knew he didn’t really have a chance. He was not going to be the y/n in a fanfiction who gets either of them. Let alone both of them. 

He got there faster than he expected and rushed out so he could go inside. 

There were two men standing out front. One of them looked… vaguely like Ghost. A little smaller, but he supposed the stage may make him look bigger. The other could be Roach. A little bigger, but… stage stuff. 

Yeah. Stage stuff. 

The smaller one was Hispanic and had a grey hoodie on while the other had a long sleeved tan shirt on and jeans. Both smelled like cologne, but the taller one smelled like he drowned himself in the stuff. 

“Hey.” The American accent out of “Ghost” caught him off fucking guard. “Soap?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’m Alex. This is Rodolfo.” Neither offered their hands to shake so Soap kept his by his sides. 

Soap nodded. “Ah. Little surprised you guys told me your names.”

They stared at him blankly before Alex laughed. “I’m not fucking Ghost. He’s inside. Still wearing a skull mask. Roach is also inside. I’m just the guy running the computer.”

“Oh…”

“I’m their manager. You think I look like him? He’s a twink.” 

Alex glanced at Rodolfo and motioned to him. “I mean… aren’t you also a twink?”

“Get fucked. Anyway, no. I’m not Roach.” Rodolfo sighed. “We have a laptop that’s hooked up to the backdrop. Anything you draw on the laptop appears there. We need you to design some things. Also, do you do traditional art? Like painting and stuff?”

“Yeah.” 

“Cool. We’ll double your pay to also paint the backdrop. Three colors that correspond to the lights. Each disappears when a different light is on.” Rodolfo started to walk and Soap quickly followed to keep listening. “You paint the stuff. You made the designs. We have three weeks to do.”

“What designs do you need?”

“Ghost and Roach will tell you. Basically they’ll show you the routine and you design something around it. They seemed pretty excited about this one since Ghost won’t be playing the guitar.”

“Oh? Why won’t he be playing?”

“Injury.” 

Soap stared at him for a moment before realizing he was being serious. “What?”

“Injured his wrist so he can’t play.” Rodolfo looked at him.

“Won’t that prevent him from performing?” 

“Oh, it’s fine. It’s not in a cast.”

Soap frowned and just vaguely nodded after a minute. “Yeah, okay…”

“Anyway, come on stage.” Rodolfo stepped up on to the stage and Soap followed. Silks, like those from an acrobatic performance, were hanging above them and there was someone wrapped around them high above their heads. 

“Roach. Come down and meet Soap.” 

Soap looked up and watched him spin down, twirling and he tangled the silks right before he hit the ground. 

Okay, that was the exact size he expected. Roach only had a medical mask on. He had medium brown hair that fell around his ears and bright green eyes. Right now, he only had sweatpants and socks on. 

Yeah, definitely a twink. Though he was toned. Probably from his performances and constant practice. 

“Nice to meet you.” Soap kicked himself for his awkwardness but also was happy he didn’t stutter. 

Roach looked him up and down before meeting his eye again, just staring. 

“My name is Soap. Like Rodolfo said.” Soap tried, feeling a bit awkward.

“He won’t talk.” Ghost, he could tell by the fact that his voice was both really deep, gravely and clearly from Manchester, spoke right behind him. Soap definitely did not jump out of his skin. He glanced around but Rodolfo had disappeared. 

“Oh. Like a pre concert thing? Makes sense.”

“No. He’s mute.” 

Soap frowned. “I… I feel like I’m missing something.” 

“He can’t talk. Is that a problem?” Ghost growled at him and Soap looked up at him. 

Oh. 

He was a little scarier up close. Tattoos went all the way up his arms and he had his skull mask on. 

“N-no! Not at all! Just how do you guys… sing?”

“He uses a vocaloid. Obviously.”

“Oh. Yeah, no one knows that.” 

Ghost laughed for a second. “Seriously?? No one?”

“There’s an entire conspiracy theory about it actually. Because his jaw doesn’t move.” Soap glanced at Roach, noticing he was blushing. For a second, he thought he may have embarrassed him before noticing that no, he was just laughing. Roach looked at him, clearly smiling and happy and Soap started to feel flustered. 

Ghost hummed. “God our fans are stupid. Im retiring.”

“NO YOU’RE FUCKING NOT SIMON.” Rodolfo screamed across the venue. “PUT WAY TOO MUCH MONEY INTO THIS. OUR LABEL WOULD KILL US.”

Soap frowned. “Man i really thought it was just the three of you guys…” So his favorite band had more hands on deck than he thought. 

“Nope. Anyway, since Rudy left, I will show you where to go.” Ghost showed him the laptop and both him and Roach watched over his shoulder. Soap quietly opened it, deciding not to bring up how unsafe it was to not have a password. 

“So what did you guys want me to do?”

“So we’re going to have lights flashing on and off that will change the coloring. We’re going to be covered in different paints so there will be tons of color. We need a background in black and white that’s going to follow us during our routine.” 

Soap nodded. “Let me see your routine real quick. I want to draw the lines of movement so that I can make sure I match it.”

The two of them nodded and a second later he heard music he didn’t recognize. Before he could get excited at potentially hearing brand new music, he realized it was Mitski. 

They practiced using Mitski. 

Soap had a lot of feelings about that. 

The two of them circled around each other, both of them masked but wearing much less clothing. There was also the fact that there were no bright lights or makeup to obscure them. 

Soap recorded their performance and watched them. 

Ghost grabbed Roach suddenly and spun him, Roach’s legs going around his waist as they moved. They separated and Roach started to dance along the beams with Ghost all but chasing him. Roach grabbed one of the silks and jumped out of Ghost’s grasp, slowly twirling. They slowed for a second, but Soap wasn’t sure if it was part of the routine. The two of them had made eye contact and they seemed to be enveloped in each other before they went back to moving. 

Their dancing was beautiful. Soap wondered if they were professional dancers or just picked it up due to their performances. Roach moved like a gymnast, twirling in the air and moving with an unearthly grace. 

Finally the song ended and Roach ended up in Ghost’s arms, the two of them just staring. 

Soap paused. He thought Alejandro, the artist they occasionally hung out with, was dating Roach. 

Well, now that he was thinking of it. Alejandro said he was dating someone in the band and Soap had just found out there were a lot more members than he thought. 

He thought so hard that he almost missed the quick kiss Roach gave Ghost’s cheek before stepping away and looking at Soap. 

Soap gave him a thumbs up and cut off the recording. He then drew a mockup of the general lines of motion, making them a little big so if there were slight deviances, the designs would still follow their movements. 

Soap sat on the couch in the back stage area and started to draw. They moved around him and occasionally one of them would look at what he was doing, give criticism and then keep going. He kinda thought that should’ve gave him more instructions if they had opinions but so far all Ghost said was “Get creative”. So a black and white canvas that follows their movements. No theme. There would be colors. Fantastic. 

Soap tried to put… something together. He was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder by Alex.

“Want coffee?”

“Oh. Sure?”

“Good.” He handed Soap forty dollars. “Go get coffee for everyone please. I’ll text you our orders.” 

Soap stared at him but Alex was already wandering off. Look, technically everyone else seemed to also be working hard. Alex was clearly coding something, Ghost and Roach were still practicing and working on music and Rodolfo had a small pile of paperwork in front of him that he clearly needed to get done. Some of the slips of paper had giant red letters and that didn’t look promising. 

But he was also working!! What gives??

After silently fuming about it for a minutes, but ultimately deciding that Alex already gave him the money, Soap went and got the stupid coffee. Rodolfo had an iced caramel macchiato with six extra shots of espresso, Roach had a white chocolate mocha, Ghost had a shaken espresso and Alex had a black coffee. Soap stared at him for a minute to see if he was being pretentious, but he seemed to genuinely like the coffee. 

Like a freak. 

Who likes black coffee from coffeeshops? You make it at home or its just not good. 

While staring at Alex, he watched him kick his leg into the table and it bent. In Half. Not at the knee. 

Soap gagged and Alex laughed. “It’s just a prosthetic. Don’t worry.”

“How did you lose your leg?” Soap asked before wincing. “Oh, sorry. Don’t answer that.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I lost in the war.” 

Soap blinked, trying to do the mental math to think of Alex’s age versus the wars in the area.

“Not like the military. It was me, a dumpster and some raccoons.”

Soap stared at him, trying to figure out the joke here. There was a joke. What was the joke?

“Yeah… the Dumpster one. Lost two raccoons that day. What a waste. They were good dumpster diving buddies, ya know?”

“I’ve never went dumpster diving.”

“Really?” Alex looked so genuinely surprised Soap felt like he should be offended. Instead, he just walked away. 

Soap settled down with his own drink, something unfortunately low in caffeine since he had to be careful with his meds, and started working again. He wanted to get rough sketches of the animations for the background, animations would work better plus they were projecting anyway, he wanted this to be cool and impress these guys even if they were… much more… 

Alright, so they were kinda losers. Still hot though. Even the scary small one. 

The lights went out across the entire venue and Soap let out a… less than manly scream. A phone flashlight lit up in front of him and he blinked.

“Uh… Which of you is it?”

Roach tilted the light so it illuminated his face. He smiled at him and offered him his hand. Soap took it and Roach gently led him outside. It had gotten dark and only now did he realize how long he had been there. 

Roach looked at him for a moment before punching his shoulder and texting him. 

“See you tomorrow - :)”

Soap felt so giddy at having the Roach’s phone number now. “See you tomorrow. When should I come by?”

“We’ll be arriving at 12 so any time after that works.” 

Ghost, Soap could tell because who else would have a helmet with a skull on it, turned on his motorcycle and waved to them. Roach rushed over and got on the back, arms wrapping snugly around Ghost’s waist. Ghost gave a two finger salute to Soap before they both left, leaving Soap to stand there. 

Not the most eventful first day, but they would be working together for at least two weeks. Maybe longer if he could convince them to keep him around. 

Soap finally let the little freak out he had been holding in since that morning in. 

[forevfangirlwrites]

chapter 10 play stupid games, win stupid prizes

It’s a little-known fact that Annabeth Chase did cheer for a year as a freshman before dropping it to fully pursue student council and homecoming committee. (Plus, she wasn’t that good at cheer anyway but that’s beside the point).

And since she bought the outfit for a ridiculous amount of money, she still has it. Its only use is to be worn on school pride day and even then, she switches out the skirt for jeans before the pep rally so as not to be confused with the actual cheer team.

“Wait, I get to ditch my last class?” Percy Jackson is walking over to her locker staring at his phone as he, undoubtedly, reads the reminder email that Mr. Brunner just sent out. “I should’ve joined this years ag-”

The words die on his lips as he looks up from his phone, gaze finally landing on her.

She shakes her head, shutting her locker to turn towards him. “It’s to set up for the assembly, not ditch.”

His normal black band tees and hoodies are swapped for a plain green shirt shrouded in a black zip up jacket that’s been left open. It’s the most amount of effort he’s put in this entire spirit week. And though he’s still wearing the rest of his usual black wardrobe, the pop of color looks nice.

It actually looks better that way.

“I see you’ve finally made an effort,” she says, gesturing towards his shirt, trying not to seem like she’d just been staring at him.

But he doesn’t respond, in fact he doesn’t do anything but stare at her until she realizes that she is also wearing something she normally doesn’t.

And judging by the way he’s looking at her, he doesn’t seem to mind.

Trying to use this information to gain the upper hand (and calm down the flutters that have started in her stomach) she takes a tiny step towards him.

“See something you like Jackson?” she teases, leaning her side against the locker.

She’s expecting him to roll his eyes or maybe even blush, but instead he moves closer. “Very much so.”

Those words should not cause the flutters to turn into a whole storm, yet she can feel herself melting towards him.

Now is the time she should come up with a snarky remark, or tease him, or anything to take the tension out of the situation but she can’t really think when he’s looking at her like that.

Thankfully, the bell rings, forcing them to jump apart.

Though she’s pretty sure she’s lost her upper hand, she makes an attempt to smile sweetly at him before she walks away.

“See you later Percy.”

-.-

“Is there a reason why Jason is walking over to us?” Thalia asks, leaning back to open her bag of chips.

They’re sitting at their usual lunch table with Piper to her right and Thalia in front, giving her the best view of the rest of the cafeteria.

Piper quickly glances back and smiles shyly. “I, uh, invited them to sit with us.”

Thalia has time to shoot her a half-hearted glare by the time Jason and Leo end up by their table.

There’re a few seconds of awkwardness before Jason speaks up.

“Hey,” Jason says quietly, mostly directing it at Piper. Leo, in contrast, just rolls his eyes and sits down next to Thalia.

“Are you guys also bearing the brunt of their relationship or is it just me having to listen to Jason go on and on?” he asks by way of greeting.

Shockingly, Thalia is the first to respond. “You’re not alone there.”

Both Jason and Piper turn at her voice with different reactions, Jason making a face and Piper looking apologetic.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Leo continues, addressing Thalia. “On one hand it’s Jason, on the other it’s Percy.”

“What is Percy saying?” The words leave her lips before she can help it. She leans back, as if physically distancing herself will do anything about the way her heart stuttered at hearing Leo’s words and the immense curiosity they incited.

KEEP READING ON AO3

[class-1b-bull]

What’s every clsss member’s strange/unique fashion choice? You don’t have to go off their character sheets, just go with your gut.

Not proofread we die like men

Also at some point when I wrote this it turned into how I thought they would dress before I saw their cannon outfit but oh well its kinda the same headcanon its just worded differently :>

Awase - his cannon outfit works well with him tbh but I feel like he would unironically wear a full neon orange fit.

Sen - the only thing I can see him wearing is a hoodie and jeans. Not even that honestly, jeans is too much work for him he just spends the whole day in sweat pants and a t shirt lmao

Kamakiri - even before i looked up their casual fits for a previous post I thought Kamakiri would dress the way he does lol.

Kuroiro - his entire wardrobe is just black hoodies and jeans except one outfit which is the most over the top fit you have ever seen. It takes him and 3 hours to get it on but its worth it

Kendo - even her canon outfit I cant see her wearing all that much. I like it but I dont think it really fits her but at the same time I cant think of anything that I think would fit her. Maybe ripped jeans and a turtleneck idkidk

Kodai - i honestly cant see her in anything exsept her skirt and turtleneck combo. It works well for her and her style.

Komori - i honestly thought she would wear cute but simple dresses that ended around her knees or something but her cannon outfit is so much cooler.

Shiozaki - id like to see her in sundresses or something of the sort. Those long ass dresses that are kinda plain and reaches her ankles but theyre pretty anyway. Ykyk.

Shishida - the only thing that he would wear other than his cannon outfit is a full blown tux. I can 100% see him dressing up to go to a fucking mcdonalds. Its just everyday wear to him

Shoda - I cant explain it but I imagined him dressing either like a dad whos in the middle of his mid life crisis or a ceo of a big company. And somehow his canon casual outfit is a mix of the two lmao

Pony - i imagined her in her canon outfit honestly. Not the exact outfit but a crop top and jeans with a few light accessories here and there ykyk

Tsubaraba - ya know those stupid ass t shirts that say dumb shit like 'i have mental Illinois' with Illinois badly photoshopped into a brain. His entire wardrobe is stuff like that

Tetsutetsu - the only thing he wears is t shirts and sweat pants. Jeans if its a special event. He thinks his style is cool so thats all that matters.

Tokage - i really like her cannon outfit and all its all I can see her in honestly. Her style fits her really well.

Manga - i really like the way he dresses cannonly but I cant shake the thought of his entire wardrobe either being hand painted t shirts and hoodies or it all just being tie dye

Honenuki - i honestly have no idea. I have let this ask marinate in my drafts for a couple days and I can not figure out what the hell this dude would wear. Even his cannon outfit I cant really see him wearing. He is a void of any style in my mind and I hate it.

Bondo - his canon casual attire is atrocious but its the only thing i can see him wearing honestly. But id like to see him in one of those massive oversized hoodies and just some jeans honestly.

Monoma - i want him to dress in the most over the top outfits the world has ever seen. I want him to walk out of the dorms looking like a fucking peacock each day (but he makes it work)

Reiko - i see her in jeans and a hoodie more than anything else. She just wears that 90% of the time and like once a month she will show up with the coolest outfit you have ever seen.

Rin - im sure he would like more oversized and comfortable clothes that are good at keeping him warm but I wanna see him in a black sleeveless turtleneck and those baggy pants with like 20 pockets

[awhitehead17]

It’s an open secret

Bruce & Tim, TimKon, Fluff, Humour, Comfort, Amused!Tim, Daddy!Bats.

Summary: Bruce can’t help but be concerned when Conner turns up to the Manor not looking so good. With his paternal instincts going into overdrive Bruce looks out for Conner’s wellbeing in his own way despite the teasing he’s bound to get from his second youngest son,

Enjoy! :D

With convenient timing, a knock comes from the front door just as Bruce is passing through the foyer. Bruce pauses his journey to stop and stare at the wooden structure, at first he wonders if he had really heard something before wondering how long it would take the person at the door to leave if Bruce ignored it.

Bruce wasn’t expecting any visitors that day so he has no idea who could be knocking. It can’t be anyone from the family, Alfred is out all day and isn’t due back home until late evening, his kids are scattered around the Manor either in their rooms or down in the cave.  

When a second knock occurs, although this one sounds more like thumps against wood rather than knocks, Bruce decides to simply deal with whoever is on the other side. It’s probably a nosey reporter. Once at the door he peers through the peep hole only to draw back in surprise a second later. Stepping back Bruce unlocks the door and opens it to reveal Conner Kent standing on his front porch.

The young adult is dressed in a plain black t-shirt, a checked flannel, roughed up jeans and boots. His outfit reminds Bruce of Clark from when he used to live on the farm years ago. Conner is even wearing round thick framed glasses to complete the look.

Bruce raises an eyebrow when the kid doesn’t immediately notice him standing there, considering he has enhanced senses, his lack of awareness is a little concerning. Bruce takes the moment to study the half-Kryptonian. Conner is leaning heavily against the wall beside the doorway lazily looking out over the Manor grounds, while he didn’t look physically injured Bruce’s instincts were telling him that something is wrong.

When Conner still fails to notice his presence, Bruce clears his throat which startles Conner into attention. The teen curses as he jumps and then pushes himself away from the wall to face Bruce.

Conner sends Bruce a weak smile and blinks almost owlishly at him. “Hey Mister Wayne. Is Tim here?”

If anything Bruce is more confused than before. Tim hadn’t mentioned anything about Conner coming over today, and even more so he’s surprised to see the teen currently on his doorstep because to Bruce’s knowledge Conner and Clark were supposed to be away on a mission, he didn’t realise they had already returned home. What also doesn’t make sense is why Kon knocked on the door instead of going through his son’s window as he normally does when he visits Tim, this adds to the reason on why Bruce thinks something is off.

Stepping aside Bruce gestures for Conner to enter. “As far as I know Tim is in his room.”

Conner sends him another smile and pushes himself off the wall and Bruce watches with a frown as the teen seems to be unsteady on his feet as he stumbles into the foyer. He almost lunges at Conner when the half-Kryptonian trips over his own feet and staggers a few steps before thankfully catching himself so he doesn’t faceplant the floor. The whole scene leaves Bruce feeling much more concerned.

Not saying anything more to him, Conner toes off his boots, puts them to the side and heads for the stairs in the direction of Tim’s room. Staying where he’s stood Bruce watches the teenager go just in case something happens to him, of course he knows the kid is practically invincible but his paternal instincts are going in overdrive.

The Kryptonian trudges up the stairs although it looks like it’s a herculean effort for him, he holds onto the railing and uses it as leverage to haul himself up onto the next step. At one point his foot slips off the step which causes him to lose balance, Conner would have faceplanted a second time if he hadn’t already been holding onto the handrail.

Conner takes a visible moment to steady himself before he continues his journey. Once he’s moved on Bruce could see that his handrail now has a hand sized dent in it. He frowns in displeasure but finds he isn’t annoyed by it; he’s more concerned about Conner’s behaviour than the dented handrail. There’s something’s definitely wrong with the kid but he doesn’t know what.

Eventually Conner makes it to the top of the stairs and soon disappears out of sight as he travels down the corridor towards Tim’s bedroom. Once he’s gone Bruce gets his phone out of his pocket and sends Tim a message to give him a heads up that his boyfriend is here. After that he calls Clark.

“Bruce don’t tell me you have another mission already. I only arrived home less than 4 hours ago!” Is what he’s greeted with when the man answers after three rings.

Bruce doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “Conner’s just arrived at the Manor and is acting off. Did something happen to him during the mission you were on?”

“Acting off? Off how? As far as I know he’s been completely fine, tired as we both are, but that’s nothing worth being concerned about.”

Bruce lets out a hum in thought. “He knocked on my front door, has tripped several times since entering, has dented my handrail because he tripped while walking up the stairs and overall he doesn’t look well.”

On the other side of the line Clark lets out a long breath. “I don’t know Bruce. Like I said he was fine during the mission and appeared to be okay once we got home. He’s probably just exhausted, let him sleep and he’ll be good as new.” There's a pause before Clark adds, “anyway what do you mean by knocked on the front door? Why would that be a cause for concern?”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Bruce says with resolution instead of answering the question, “I’ll update you as and when needed.”

Without further explanation Bruce hangs up the phone and continues through the foyer to go back to what he was originally doing. He knows Tim will check over his boyfriend, he’ll have a better understanding to what’s going on with Conner and will know instantly if there’s anything wrong. Bruce will have to remember to check on them in a few hours’ time.

-----------

Balancing a tray on the palm of one hand Bruce uses the other to knock on his son’s bedroom door. While he waits patiently for Tim to answer he rebalances the tray with both hands and looks down at what he’s prepared for the two teenagers.

He's no Alfred, so there’s no big meal he’s prepped and cooked, but he’s somewhat adequate in the kitchen. He’s made a few sandwiches for the boys to share and not knowing what their preferences are he's made a small variety. Alongside the sandwiches are a couple of Alfred’s baked pastries, a bottle of water and a sports drink each, a small fruit pot each and a packet of M&M’s that’s come from Tim’s not-so-secret stash.

Bruce doesn’t know what’s wrong with Conner, if there’s anything, but some food and maybe some sugar could help the kid get some energy inside of him. There’s also the fact that Bruce knows Tim hasn’t once left his room that day yet and it’s nearing mid-afternoon, the kid will need to eat soon.

A muffled “come in” soon reaches Bruce’s ears so he opens the door and enters Tim’s room.

His eyes immediately land on his son and his boyfriend who are sprawled out on the bed. Conner’s back is pressed up against Tim’s stretched out leg as he has his face buried into a pillow. Next to him Tim is sitting up leaning against his headboard with an iPad resting on his bent knee, one hand is operating the device while the other is reached out towards Conner and is currently grasped in Conner’s hold on top of the pillow he’s resting on.

The scene is very domestic and Bruce almost feels bad for intruding. Tim however doesn’t seem to think anything of it, he looks up from his device when Bruce walks in and for a moment surprise crosses his face before a smile takes it’s place.

“Bruce. What can I do for you?”

Sending his son a dry look, and making sure to keep his tone down, he says, “what, can’t I just come and say hello?” He walks over to Tim’s bedside table and sets down the tray, taking a moment to make sure it won’t fall off, and then steps away.

Tim glances down at the tray with a curious look before shooting Bruce the same look. “Not when it’s you. You usually approach us when you either need something, or because one of us is in trouble, or because you need to hunt down one of your kids and hopes someone will spill the location of their whereabouts.”

Bruce pauses and blinks. While Tim isn’t exactly lying it does make him question his relationship with his kids now it’s been brought to his attention. Well, that’s something he clearly needs to work on.

In answer to Tim's reasoning he shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well it’s in fact none of those things. I’ve come by to see how you and Conner both are. Conner didn’t look well when he arrived earlier.”

His gaze automatically drifts to the teen in question, he's still soundly asleep next to Tim, not having at all stirred during their conversation.

Tim’s eyes also wonder to his boyfriend and a faint smile crosses his lips. Bruce couldn’t help but notice how the love-struck expression suits Tim, it makes him look younger like the age he actually is. He’s glad his son is happy. Tim then looks back up at Bruce. “You can talk normally, he’s out like a light and won’t resurface for another two or three hours.”

Bruce frowns, his earlier concerns come back at hearing Tim’s words, although it shouldn’t be because of how calm Tim currently is. If there had been something wrong his son would have reacted by now.

Tim shrugs and moves the iPad onto the mattress. “He’s fine. Kon overexerted himself during the mission and is feeling completely drained. After some sleep, some food, and then more sleep he’ll be good as new. Thankfully he’s not injured.”

Bruce nods, that's also what Clark said. He’s been worrying for nothing.

Tim is sending him a knowing smirk, there’s a glint in his eyes that tells Bruce he's in for a lot of teasing from his second youngest about this situation. However Tim seems to give Bruce a small mercy by not commenting on the obvious, instead he turns his attention to the tray Bruce had set down.

“You didn’t have to go through all that trouble Bruce.” Tim leans over to examine the items closer before he settles back into his position although he now lowers his other leg. Next to him Kon shifts, the teen moves his head more onto Tim’s lap but otherwise continues sleeping on.

Uncrossing his arms Bruce shrugs and puts his hands into his trousers pockets. “I wasn't sure what you boys wanted so there’s a mix and match of things. Plus,” he sends Tim a stern look, “I know you haven’t left your room today and therefore haven’t eaten. You need to eat just as much as your boyfriend does.”

Tim makes a face and outs his free hand over his heart dramatically. “Aw, you do care!”

“Tim.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim waves his hand around flippantly. His expression then grows more serious and he sends Bruce a small appreciative smile. “Thank you. It’s great what you’ve put together. I’ll make sure Kon eats when he wakes and I’ll eat something too.”

“Good, that’s all I ask,” Bruce then pauses, now realising there’s no other reason for him to be in Tim’s room anymore, “if there’s anything else you need just let me know. Conner can stay for as long as he wants.”

Bruce begins heading for Tim’s door and when he’s halfway out of the room Tim calls out to him. “Bruce,” when the man looks at his son he continues, “all teasing aside thank you for thinking and being concerned about Kon. I promise he's fine, just give it a few hours and you’ll be wanting to kick him out of Gotham again.”

Bruce huffs a laugh and shakes his head, knowing he’s not wrong. “He makes you happy Tim. That’s all that matters.”

Before his son could reply Bruce slips the rest of the way out of Tim's room and closes the door behind him. As he starts down the corridor he reflects back, grateful that Conner is indeed alright but even more so that Tim is happy. Relationships can be complicated but Tim and Conner seem to have things working out for them despite what's occurred in their pasts.

As long as Conner keeps making Tim smile then he’s allowed in Gotham as much as he wants to be, not that Bruce is going to tell him that of course. He can’t have the teenager thinking Bruce likes him after all.

[forgodsgoddamnsake]

Belly Dancer - 13

Excuse me, beauties but I'm not in the mood for smuts. So this one is smut free.

Warning though, angst, fluff, mention of anger issues, mention of domestic violence.

Note: we all have mental issues, so talking about it is necessary. No need to be ashamed of your issues.

--

You and Harry got out of the car right in front of the place. It was a plain building, but you imagined what it would look like when you start working on it. You wore a denim skirt, black stockings, black strapless crop-top, sneakers and a black cap over your head. Harry wore casual, he became more comfortable wearing what he actually liked, so he wore a black ripped jeans and floral shirt with a few buttons kept unbuttoned.

“Y/N!” You heard Sam’s voice squeal, pulling you into his arms tightly and spinning you around.

“Oh, god, Sam!” You laughed before he placed you down again.

It’d been a long time since you actually met him in person. Sam was a great guy, handsome, and muscular with silver hair and couple of piercings in his nose, tongue and ears. He was just a little shorter than Harry, but still definitely taller than you. Sam’s eyes were aqua blue, such a loss that he was gay.

Harry was jealous, but the fact that Sam was gay eased this feeling a little.

“It’s been so long since I last seen you, you’re getting more beautiful.” Sam gave you a wide smile, holding your hands in his.

“I know!” You laughed, grabbing him into another hug, “Your hair looks amazing, last time I saw you it was blue.” You brushed his hair a little after pulling away from the hug.

“And your hair grew longer, must be an advantage in bed.” He winked at you and you laughed at his comment.

Harry coughed, catching you and Sam’s attention. Sam’s eyes widened when he looked at Harry, letting go of your hands, getting closer to Harry.

“Oh my! Is this the guy that had you wrapped around his little finger?” Sam asked, eyeing Harry from head to toe. “You and I are friends from this moment on.” Sam directed his smile to Harry, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Oh! Hi, Sam.” Harry was startled by the hug, but he was polite enough to not push him away.

“We’re gonna have a lot to talk about after we finish our little tour. I have many embarrassing stories to tell about y/n when we first met.” Sam said, pulling away from Harry.

“Sounds great.” Harry smiled back at Sam.

“C’mon let’s go.” Sam encouraged, walking towards the place. You and Harry walked hand in hand and entered the place, Sam leading the way.

“I know it doesn’t look great now and you have so many things to do so this place lightens up, but I think it’s a good catch.” Sam told, pointing at the large space where the main center of the club should be. You and Harry eyed the place.

“It’s three-story, there’s the stage, much bigger than the one’s at the club you work at.”

The stage was actually bigger and wider, not too high but high enough so everyone could watch whoever on the stage without having to raise their heads up all the way.

“See this spacious shit is where the dance floor should be, so close to the stage so you can shine bright like a diamond.” Sam sang the last part, you giggled, leaving Harry’s hand to walk freely.

“Here, you can have the bar.” Sam walked to show you the place of the bar before walking you to where the bathrooms should be.

“The bathrooms need a little more work I know, but believe me, sweetness, they’re so huge you can have another dance floor there.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, the ladies’ and men’s bathrooms were huge. Sam walked you and Harry towards the backstage.

“There are like five rooms backstage for all of your dancers, there’s a sixth one, it’s down the hall. There are two bathrooms for the staff also.” Sam said, opening the doors for all five rooms, showing you the space of the rooms.

“What’s different about the sixth?” You asked, walking behind Sam while Harry was walking behind you.

Sam smirked as he turned around to look at you behind him is a room door, “It’s bigger than my whole apartment,” With that, he opened the door for the last room.

The room was huge, there was a private bathroom in the room, a minibar, a space where you could have a dressing room and another space for an office.

“Wow!” You stepped in the room, imagining yourself in there.

“I know!” Sam squealed.

“What about the two other floors?” Harry asked more like a business man.

“Your word is my command! Follow me.” Sam smiled widely, walking you out the room and to an elevator. You three got into the elevator and it stopped shortly when you reached the second floor, you got out.

“As you told me, y/n/n, this is where VIP Gold should take place. Private bathrooms, private bar, you name it!.”

It was an empty huge space, there was A LOT of work to be done. Sam got you back in the elevator and it stopped again in the third and last floor.

“VIP Platinum, lady and gentleman.”

The floor was bigger than the second, but still, the place was nothing to be wowed about the way it was.

When you finished your tour, you got down to the first floor, Sam didn’t stop talking for a second.

“You have a private garage, the place is really a catch, y/n/n.”

You crossed your arms, walking in the place, “How much did the landlord ask for, Sam?”

“Well, this is the problem.” Sam looked nervous, but was stopped as there was a fourth figure entering the place. A middle-aged man walked in.

“Hello, this is Isaac McChain, the landlord. You must be Ms. Y/L/N.” His voice was hoarse and his hand was expanded to shake yours.

“Yes, thank you for your time, Mr. McChain. We were taking a tour in the place.” You shook his hand, but he wouldn’t let your hand go. The man gave you a smirk, and you knew that he was undressing you in his head.

“Harry Styles, Ms. Y/L/N’s boyfriend.” Harry pulled out his hand to the man, glaring at him. His hand was on your waist, pulling you close into him.

Sam was standing a little away, mumbling to himself, “Clash of the titans.”

Isaac had to let go of your hand and shake Harry’s, putting on the most fake smile you’d ever seen. They pulled their hands away just a second after, maybe because Harry almost crushed the man’s hand.

“I hope you liked the place.” Isaac said, looking at you.

“Well, not so much. It’s huge, I’ll give you that, but the work to be done here is beyond imagination. How much exactly do you price this place?” You pulled on your business woman attitude. That was one of Sam’s most favorite scenes, seeing you act tough. Isaac chuckled a little, he was trying to act tough as well, but you wouldn’t fall for it. He gave you the price with a smirk on his face.

“Uh-huh, well that’s too much for a place that requires the same amount to fix. The bathrooms are in a terrible condition, the stage could fall down if a feather stepped on it and don’t get me started with the second and third floors” You went on and on with all the bad things you caught during your tour.

“But you can easily afford all the work, Ms.Y/L/N. An extraordinary dancer like you clearly can appreciate the whereabouts of the building.”

“An extraordinary dancer like me, Mr. McChain, can clearly find another good place just like yours for half the price.”

“So, you suggest that I cut half the price?”

“I’m not saying that, but we can reach an arrangement we both agree on. I’ve made my research; three-story buildings prices are way lower than the price you put for your building. Approximately by fifty grands, I can use these fifty grands to fix the place, don’t you think?”

Harry was amazed by the way you spoke in a professional tone, standing your ground.

“You’re quite a business woman, Ms. Y/L/N.” Isaac said.

You smiled, expanding your hand to shake his. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. McChain.”

You looked over to Sam who wished he had popcorn, “Sam, get the contracts ready with Mr. McChain.”

--

“God, have you seen her? She had him back off by more than fifty grands!” Sam enthusiastically yelled, cheering Harry with his glass of wine.

“That was a total success, y/n.” Harry smiled at you.

You three were having drinks at the bar Sam talked about, you were sitting at a table, celebrating signing the contract for your new club.

“Success? Dude, she outdone herself.” Sam was so happy for you. You noticed how you chose your friends, all of them were happy for you whenever you had something great happening in your life.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Sam. You really did a very great job.” You patted his shoulder, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You know I’ve got your back, Y/N/N.”

“How did you guys meet?” Harry asked, his hand on your thigh, drinking from his glass.

“Now he won’t shut up.” You giggled just as Sam’s eyes widened in excitement.

“Okay let me tell you! I went to this dance class downtown, a friend told me that they give belly dancing classes and I went and guess who was my teacher?”

“Teacher?” You arched a brow at Sam.

Without even giving the slightest attention to you, Sam continued directing his words to Harry, “She was very sweet and friendly. Had to have a friend like her in my collection.”

Harry chuckled and looked at you, “I didn’t know you gave dancing classes.”

“I still do, why do you think I leave at the same time three days a week?” You sipped from your glass of martini.

“Harry, honey, I practically forced her to work her ass off so we could take another step forward. She always wanted to sit on her ass and do nothing.” Sam laughed as you gave him the finger.

“I admit it, you made me work for months with no days off you little shit.” You shrugged.

“But you didn’t like seeing guys belly dancing, now I know you actually teach them?” Harry asked, enjoying catching you in the act.

“I’m hurt.” Sam had a hand on his chest as if he was actually hurt.

“Shut up, Sam! You already know how I feel about guys belly dancing.”

“Well, yeah, but it still hurts.” He smirked at you.

“I’ll have to go to the bathroom before I hit you with something.” You rolled your eyes, standing up and walking towards the bathrooms.

“Tell me about you, green eyes.” Sam asked Harry.

“What would you like to know about me?”

“Y/n didn’t talk much about you, since we worked together most of our talks were business. How did you meet?”

“I, ugh, I saw her dance at the club, messed with her a little and the next thing I know we’re dating.”

“When she told me that she met someone, it was kinda weird. Y/N was used to guys and girls hitting on her, but she preferred being a lone wolf.”

“Believe me, I know how much she gets hit on. I may need to make her wear a shirt with my face on it.” They both laughed until the laughter went down.

“I’ll give you a secret if you promise to keep it.” Sam said in a serious tone and Harry nodded. “I don’t know if you noticed, y/n has many friends. Mostly me, Jessica and Noah are the ones that deeply worry about her, she doesn’t have any family to lean on. Y/N only has her friends, that’s why she tries her best to keep us and never let us go, she treats us like family. She did something for Jessica that perhaps not many people will do.”

“Yeah, I know, Noah told me.” Harry nodded as Sam continued.

“And now you’re looking at the guy who paid his tuition thanks to y/n. She gave me this job and paid me generously when she knew that I was facing some serious trouble paying off the tuition. So, what I want to say is,” Sam’s face got serious like a father’s face, meeting his girl’s boyfriend, “If you play her, God forgive me for what I’ll do.”

--

Not that your friends didn’t like Harry, but they were so worried about you they couldn’t let you get hurt anymore, especially as they knew about your mental status. You couldn’t afford having your heart broken again.

Jessica saw most of it, she’d spend days trying to calm you down from a mental breakdown. While Sam would watch your every move to make sure that you were protected, or didn’t kill anyone.

You weren’t the best person. But you knew how to keep your friends.

You were an amazing friend to say the least, you listened to them, helped them, stood by their side, and most importantly, you fought for them. You fought physically for your friends whenever there would be an issue with another person. Sam was bullied some day at a bar when he accidentally ran into some of his high school bullies, they tried pulling him by the pants calling him the F word. You broke the bottle of beer you had and threatened the guy bullying Sam with it. Violence was not something you chose every day, but you had to choose it to protect yourself and friends against violent people.

--

You, Harry, Jess, Noah, Sam and Sam’s boyfriend Rian decided to take a trip and go for a hike, stay in a cabin and have fun. You rented a place to stay for two nights in a nice cabin that could fit all of you. You asked Harry if Michael could come and have some fun as well and he was fond of the idea, so you called Michael asking if he could join. Michael was happy to know that he was included, you thought that the best option to keep everything going smoothly is to include Michael, so he’d be sure that his friend didn’t replace him.

Harry was driving you, his hand on your thigh as usual. The drive was calm and silent except from the background music, but Harry wanted to break the silence, “Your friends are a handful.”

You giggled, “Why’s that? They’re fun.”

“They are, but they worry so much about you, Sam threatened me.”

“I knew it!” You exclaimed. “Don’t mind them, baby, they caught a few bad qualities from me.”

“So you threaten people a lot?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Mean people.”

“Can I ask you a question, but don’t get offended, please.”

“Sure?”

“You always told me that you were a violent person, but I don’t see that. Why do you always have to remind me about that?”

You sighed, “Defense mechanism.”

“But violence shouldn’t be an option.”

“If you were raised like me, you wouldn’t see that.”

“Then tell me.”

“I never was a violent person, but I grew up in a violent home. My father used to hit us most of the time, and he wasn’t alcoholic or drug addict. It was who he was, that’s way worse, there’s nothing to blame the violence on. And some day, I hit my sister so bad, I put all of the violence I faced on her. Do you know what my father told me when he knew? He said that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I swore that I never lay a finger on any person unless they start it. My sister forgave me, and I never did something like that again.”

“You don’t sound as a violent person, you’re hurt and that’s understandable.”

“Weird that you don’t sound as a violent person though you work as an arms dealer.”

“I grew up with my mother and sister, my father left us because my mother couldn’t accept what he was doing. She wanted to keep us safe, but here I am, keeping my father’s legacy.”

“Your mother raised you good, Harry.”

He smiled at your words, reminding himself that he was raised by a loving mother that taught him how to be a gentleman.

--

You all arrived at the same time at the cabin, it was big and had enough rooms for all of you. You and Harry got out of the car as everyone else did. You carried your bags to your rooms and then gathered in the living room, Jessica had packed meals for all of you, she liked trips and got all excited for preparing food for such occasions.

It was the first time for you to meet Rian, Sam’s boyfriend, but he was a nice guy so it didn’t take you too long to be all friendly with him. Everybody was eating their meals, you sat on Harry’s lap on an armchair, eating together while everyone else was sitting everywhere else. Sam pulled his portable speaker and connected his phone to it and turned on the song ‘Good Girls’ by 5sos and stood on his feet and pulled you off of Harry’s lap to make you dance with him.

So just turn around and forget what you saw

C’ause good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught

Sam would hold you and spin you, dance with you and soon everyone followed, dancing and laughing. Sam went towards Harry who sat there watching you dance and brought him to dance with you. Harry’s smile was getting wider when you pulled him in, hands around his neck while his were around your waist. Everyone was dancing with everyone, you and Noah danced together while Harry danced with Sam, but there was a missing person. Michael. You grabbed him by the arm off of the couch and danced together, he smiled and danced happily with you.

Soon enough the song changed, and Harry’s arms were around you once again. You could smell his cologne from a mile away, he’d catch your eyes if there were a hundred man in the same room. His touch was the only touch you knew. And he could never ask for something more from life other than having you in his arms.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Sam excitedly suggested.

“Let’s play it outside?” Noah added and everyone agreed.

It was already getting late so some of the guys helped put on a little fire to get some warmth, you sat on the ground with a cup of hot chocolate in hand.

“You filthy bitch, get off the ground.” Jessica said to you, taking a seat on a wooden rack.

“I love sitting on the ground, shut up.”

Everyone made a circle around the fire, Harry sat beside you, his arm around your shoulder.

“How do we play?” You asked.

“We take turns, I’ll start.” Sam said.

“Someone’s excited.” Jessica smirked at Sam who rolled his eyes at her.

“Noah, truth or dare?” Sam asked.

“Truth.” Noah answered.

“Wuss.” You commented and he gave you a fake disgusted look. Harry was having a beer just like everyone else.

“What’s your guilty pleasure?” Sam asked.

“Umm,” He thought about it for a second. “I still watch spongepop.”

“Ohh.” Everyone chanted and then it was Rian’s turn.

“Michael, truth or dare?” Rian asked Michael.

“Truth.” Michael answered.

“Are we in fifth grade here?” You teased Michael who looked at Harry, “Shut her up or I’ll do.” Michael said to Harry and everyone laughed.

“She can be as mean as she wants, I’m sorry.” Harry defended you, giggling.

“What’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told?” Rian got the attention back as he asked Michael.

“That’s easy, I told a girl that I didn’t love her, but I did.” Harry’s face went down as he heard Michael’s answer.

“OH god! Why?” Jessica asked.

“It’s a one question per turn, Jess.” Michael smiled sadly, sipping from his can of beer.

After Harry and Michael fixed things, Jessica and Noah met Michael many times, so they grew closer. That was why it wasn’t so weird for Michael to tag along.

“My turn!” Noah said, raising his arm. “You little bitch!” He pointed at you and you playfully flicked your hair.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

“Flash us!” Jessica chanted, and Harry glared at her.

“I don’t care if you’re her best friend, I’ll kill you.” Harry playfully threatened her and she laughed at it.

“Dance for us for one minute straight, no music.” Noah dared you and you smirked at him.

“I’ll kill you, too.” Harry said to Noah that raised his hands in surrender.

“No, I’ll do it.” You stood up and lifted the hoodie you had on a little to show off your belly. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Here’s our stopwatch. Go!” Sam used his phone’s stopwatch and with his signal you started dancing with your belly, not moving anything but your belly’s muscles. You swayed your waist and made waves with your belly muscles for one minute straight till the time was up. Everyone clapped when you finished and you gave them a little curtsy in the end before taking your seat next to Harry again. He gave you a kiss on the cheek as you sat down.

“Harry!” Jessica yelled and Harry’s eyes widened at her in surprise.

“What?” He yelled back at her.

“Truth or dare?” She asked with a smile.

“Dare.”

“Following your girl’s steps, good boy.” Michael commented.

“I dare you to imitate y/n.” Jessica dared and you laughed as you turned your head to look at Harry’s face who was trying hard not to laugh.

“Fine.” Harry agreed. He let go of you to sit straight, he flicked his long non-existing hair, “I’m prettier than her, Harry, right?” He softened his voice as he imitated you. He wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m a badass good girl, who you gonna leave me for?” and with that all of you laughed hard.

“I don’t say that!” You laughed, trying to defend yourself.

He brought you in closer and kissed your temple, “You do every time we fight.”

You went on with your turns until Michael asked you, “Truth or dare, y/n?”

“Truth.” You answered.

“What’s your deepest darkest secret?”

You bit your lip and flicked your hair, “Um,” You sighed, “My family disowned me.”

--

You were in your bedroom, laying on the bed. You excused yourself after answering Michael’s question and not long after, Harry had followed you, entering your room. You were naked except from your panties and the blanket covering your bare status.

“Baby, are you okay?” Harry sat down next to you, brought your head to his chest as you cried.

“Shh, everything’s going to be okay.” He calmed you, rubbing your hair, pulling you closer into his chest as you let it all out.

You cried everything. Everything that made you reach the point you were at.

Harry grabbed your head to look into your teary eyes, “I’m with you, okay?” You nodded.

And as you took your time in his arms, everything actually became okay.

“They didn’t approve of me becoming a belly dancer or leaving home, so they disowned me long time ago.” You said softly, eyes feeling heavy.

“Doesn’t matter. You are a successful, independent, beautiful woman. You don’t need them if they bring you down, they should have supported you. It’s not your fault, Rapunzel.” He rubbed your head as he held you.

“I love you.” You muttered as you fell asleep on his chest.

His eyes widened and looked at you only to see you asleep in his arms, he sighed.

“Unfortunately, I love you, too.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

--

SO?

[gunebuggieswriting]

Good Bad Habits Run In The Family: Chapter Six

DPxDC Crossover, Jason Adopts Danny AU

[AO3] [FF.net] [Wattpad]

First Chapter || << Last Chapter || Next Chapter >>

Jason left as soon as he could, not wanting to be in the batcave any longer after hearing what Duke said. He knew it was Danny as soon as he heard that B had called a meeting about a new superhuman, possibly metahuman or alien, in Gotham. Afterall, Danny had just left his warehouse yesterday, and it didn’t take a genius to connect the dots.

The only thing that had made him doubt was that the first description that Duke had given them, as the Danny he knew didn’t have white hair or a black and white jumpsuit. Actually, Jason was pretty sure that the teen was probably still wearing the clothes he had given him right before he left, a plain red shirt and some black jeans. The thing that made Jason so sure that the unknown super was Danny, was that Duke also said they had glowing green eyes, sharp teeth, and were short. He knew that the kid going around like that was just asking for somebody to notice him, he should have talked to him before, made him more aware that he wasn’t the norm around here.

Perhaps the white hair and odd clothing was what he actually looked like or something, afterall, he sure wasn’t completely human. Now that the whole flock of bats was looking for the teen though, including the man himself, it was even more dangerous for him to be on the streets of Gotham. Duke said that he looked terrified, and although Danny was rather skittish, he also wasn’t afraid to fight. For him to flee like that, or vanish in Duke’s words, meant that he could already be in danger.

Jason hopped on his motorcycle, it humming back loudly to life for a second before he took off. He was going to find Danny before any other bat could. He should have already got to him before Duke, instead of retreating as soon as daylight rolled into the city. It didn’t matter if he was a nighttime vigilante, he didn’t care if others saw him during the day. Nobody except the other bats would question him, but he would risk that to hurry up and find Danny before them. He can cover his ass easily, but Danny on the other hand? Well, he was just a teen, a scared one at that. He didn’t need all the bats cornering him and asking him a whole bunch of questions.

He was heading towards Shelton Street, hoping that he would find some sort of trail that would point him to where Danny could have gone. He drove quickly down the streets, ignoring some of the traffic laws as he passed through the overcrowded city. How in the world did so many people want to live here? He could understand the ones that didn’t have nowhere else to go, but the ones that chose to be here? Absolutely insane people if you asked him.

When he got to Shelton Street, it was disappointingly normal. Everybody was minding their own business, a few of them noticing Red Hood and taking pictures of him or whispering among themselves. It bothered him, a reason he much rather do things during the night, but he could ignore his discomfort in turn for finding Danny. He searched around, and found a tenement that seemed like it should have been demolished ages ago, and guessed that it was probably the one that Duke had mentioned Danny being on.

He went into the alley, scarring off a couple of cats as he walked, and took out his grapple hook, launching into the air as soon as it gripped on top of the roof. Climbing on top of the building, he looked around, seeing nothing out of place. There was a billboard sign, but nothing else out of the ordinary. It was still pretty high up though, and Red Hood used it to have a better look around the place.

There was no sign of Danny, none, absolutely zip. Though he had to have been here at least an hour ago, so he shouldn’t have gone too far. Though, if the boy really could teleport, then that would make it a lot harder to track him down. What if he already found his way out of Gotham? Jason would be looking for nobody.

Not one to make assumptions or give up quickly, Red Hood went back to the alley where his motorcycle still was sitting. He already didn’t have much patience, especially when he was this worried worked up. He felt the need to find Danny, and it was much stronger than last night when the kid first dipped.

Cursing at himself and his weird emotional bullshit, he got back on his motorcycle and began searching rapidly around the area, trying not to miss anything. Every time he saw black hair, he would take a second look, disappointed each time that they weren’t Danny. One time he even saw a person with white hair who wasn’t old, but instead of being some out of the world version of Danny, it was just some girl in her twenties who probably dyed her hair that way.

He kept looking, spreading all over the area, double checking some places to make sure Danny didn’t show up after he left. He knew he probably looked a little crazy, and he felt a little crazy too, searching like mad for a teenager he only knew for about three weeks. Even though he may not know Danny too well, and less than he thought he did it seemed, that didn’t mean he didn’t care about the brat. Jason knew that he could be in danger, and he would be damned if he let the kid be hurt because of some crazed dumbass out there.

It was becoming dark and Jason knew that the dragging feeling in his eyes was him becoming tired, as he hasn’t slept in the last day from everything that has been happening. He was tempted to take off his helmet so he could rub at his face, maybe calm down some of his nerves, when he felt the temperature drop and the air turn stale, almost like he entered some haunted mansion that’s been around for far too long. Though, he knew this feeling, and hope sparked in his chest.

He turned, looking around the alley he was in to see if he could spot Danny. The feeling was still there, so that meant that Danny was still here. He didn’t want to scare him off again, especially after spending the entire day searching every small space to try and find him. “Brat?” He called, glancing around again to see if he could spot the boy. The chill intensified and then warmed back up, and Jason was afraid that he did scare him off.

“Red Hood?” Jason froze, spinning around on his hills to see Danny a few feet behind him, and he couldn’t help but question how the fuck the kid snuck up on him like that. Probably another power thing going on, he really needed to know more about that. Other than that, the kid’s hair was still black, and his eyes weren’t glowing at all, an icy blue like they had been for the majority of his time in the warehouse after he had settled in. “Am I back in Crime Alley or something? I knew I was going around in circles, I’m so fucking stupid.”

“No we’re not in Crime Alley,” Red Hood corrected the younger teen, who seemed more tired than usual, probably not having slept yet either. “I was actually looking for your dumbass.” Danny stiffened, and Jason could visibly see the panic rising in him.

“I- well- I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly- I” Danny tried to get out, his hands going up to his head to thread through it as he avoided looking at Red Hood.

“That’s not why I tracked you down. I’m here because apparently some idiot got caught by Signal.” Red Hood said, crossing his arms, although he tried not to sound too harsh, which was hard with the modified voice in his helmet.

Danny’s eyes somehow got bigger, and bit his lip and looked away again. He couldn’t help but think how Red Hood actually was connected to the other bats like he thought they were, which was given with the bat symbol. Did Red Hood tell them stuff about him? He may not know much, but he did know his name and how he really looked. Shit, Signal saw his other form. Red Hood probably knew now. Who he truly was.

Red Hood saw how the nervous boy was starting to become afraid too, and that was the opposite of what he wanted. If Danny felt threatened in any way, he would bounce and vanish once more. Jason wasn’t trying to scare him, he didn’t want to. “Look kid, I’m not going to do anything, okay? I simply looked for you to tell you that you’re a dumbass for letting them see you and that you need to be more safe or some shit.”

Danny relaxed a bit, letting a worried breath escape his mouth. While he was human he did need to breathe, so he sucked another breath right back in before he spoke. “I know I’m a dumbass, I just sorta forgot about Signal, alright? I’ll be careful from now on, I promise. I mean, I haven’t been caught again all day.”

“What about right now?” Red Hood shot back, lifting an unimpressed eyebrow.

Danny stuttered, flailing his arms for a second before composing himself so he could properly defend himself. “If I didn’t want you to know I was here, you wouldn’t have seen me. The only reason I came out is because I knew it was you from that dumb voice modifier in your helmet that makes you sound like a boy band member who uses monotone instead of autotune.”

“That was one of the lamest comebacks I’ve ever heard in my goddamn life.” Red Hood said, but couldn’t hold but a short laugh and a wide smile that Danny couldn’t see. “Y’know squirt, for somebody being so tiny you sure are feisty. Reminds me of a chihuahua.”

“Those little bastards are feral demons, don’t let the smallness fool you.” That sure got an actual chuckle out of Red Hood, making Danny join in a bit in turn.

Then Danny sobered, his smile turning bittersweet, and Jason hated that look. Last time he saw it was in the warehouse, during his last visit before Danny left for good. He didn’t think much of it at the time, but he knew it meant nothing good now.

“Thank you Red Hood, really. I know I’ve said that a lot in the past couple of weeks, but I really do mean it. Who knows, I might have died that night you found me.” Actually Danny was supposed to die the night that Red Hood found him, but the man didn’t need to know that, and he felt like keeping it to himself anyways. “Though right now, I really want to be alone. I promise I’ll be more careful until I can find a good way out of here without messing more shit up. No more vigilantes for me.” He tried to end with a happy note, but there was still a sadness in his voice that he couldn’t quite place, and neither could Red Hood.

Red Hood wanted to argue with the kid and drag him back to his apartment or tell him how to leave the city, but he couldn’t. There was a certain look in the younger boy’s eyes, and Jason knew that he wouldn’t be able to convince him that whatever was going on could be fixed. It wasn’t his place either. He could see plain as day that although Danny may relax a bit in his presence, but that he didn’t trust him. He couldn’t tell Danny that him being a teen all alone on the streets without a home was something he couldn’t let happen, no matter how much he wanted to, because then Danny would just run away again. He couldn’t tell Danny that he didn’t have to leave, when he saw how convinced the other was that he needed to. He couldn’t tell Danny that he cared for him. That would only freak him out.

Danny’s eyes somehow got bigger, and bit his lip and looked away again. He couldn’t help but think how Red Hood actually was connected to the other bats like he thought they were, which was given with the bat symbol. Did Red Hood tell them stuff about him? He may not know much, but he did know his name and how he really looked. Shit, Signal saw his other form. Red Hood probably knew now. Who he truly was.

Red Hood saw how the nervous boy was starting to become afraid too, and that was the opposite of what he wanted. If Danny felt threatened in any way, he would bounce and vanish once more. Jason wasn’t trying to scare him, he didn’t want to. “Look kid, I’m not going to do anything, okay? I simply looked for you to tell you that you’re a dumbass for letting them see you and that you need to be more safe or some shit.”

Danny relaxed a bit, letting a worried breath escape his mouth. While he was human he did need to breathe, so he sucked another breath right back in before he spoke. “I know I’m a dumbass, I just sorta forgot about Signal, alright? I’ll be careful from now on, I promise. I mean, I haven’t been caught again all day.”

“What about right now?” Red Hood shot back, lifting an unimpressed eyebrow.

Danny stuttered, flailing his arms for a second before composing himself so he could properly defend himself. “If I didn’t want you to know I was here, you wouldn’t have seen me. The only reason I came out is because I knew it was you from that dumb voice modifier in your helmet that makes you sound like a boy band member who uses monotone instead of autotune.”

“That was one of the lamest comebacks I’ve ever heard in my goddamn life.” Red Hood said, but couldn’t hold but a short laugh and a wide smile that Danny couldn’t see. “Y’know squirt, for somebody being so tiny you sure are feisty. Reminds me of a chihuahua.”

“Those little bastards are feral demons, don’t let the smallness fool you.” That sure got an actual chuckle out of Red Hood, making Danny join in a bit in turn.

Then Danny sobered, his smile turning bittersweet, and Jason hated that look. Last time he saw it was in the warehouse, during his last visit before Danny left for good. He didn’t think much of it at the time, but he knew it meant nothing good now.

“Thank you Red Hood, really. I know I’ve said that a lot in the past couple of weeks, but I really do mean it. Who knows, I might have died that night you found me.” Actually Danny was supposed to die the night that Red Hood found him, but the man didn’t need to know that, and he felt like keeping it to himself anyways. “Though right now, I really want to be alone. I promise I’ll be more careful until I can find a good way out of here without messing more shit up. No more vigilantes for me.” He tried to end with a happy note, but there was still a sadness in his voice that he couldn’t quite place, and neither could Red Hood.

Red Hood wanted to argue with the kid and drag him back to his apartment or tell him how to leave the city, but he couldn’t. There was a certain look in the younger boy’s eyes, and Jason knew that he wouldn’t be able to convince him that whatever was going on could be fixed. It wasn’t his place either. He could see plain as day that although Danny may relax a bit in his presence, but that he didn’t trust him. He couldn’t tell Danny that him being a teen all alone on the streets without a home was something he couldn’t let happen, no matter how much he wanted to, because then Danny would just run away again. He couldn’t tell Danny that he didn’t have to leave, when he saw how convinced the other was that he needed to. He couldn’t tell Danny that he cared for him. That would only freak him out.

He couldn’t do anything to stop Danny, say anything to let him stop himself, so he sighed and decided that there were some things he couldn’t do. “Fine then Danny, just know that you can always come to me if anything happens. I’ll probably be somewhere in Crime Alley, but if I’m not, go to one of my people and they’ll help you until I can get back. I’ll make sure to tell them to keep an eye out for you, but I won’t tell them much, does that sound good?”

Danny was surprised once more, but nodded his head silently, not trusting his voice at the moment. He could tell he was on the verge of another breakdown like he had several times that day, probably because of how stressed he’s been since that morning and how tired he felt. Red Hood was offering him help, but he knew it was selfish to take it, as he’s already taken so much and put the other in way too much danger. Taking in a deep breath to try and temporarily calm his nerves, he gave Red the most of a smile he could give him, which wasn’t much with how much his lip wanted to crumble into a trembling mess. “Thanks.”

Then he turned around and went right back into the shadows, turning himself invisible and disappearing into the now new night, flying slowly as he willed himself to not turn around again. Tears welled up in his eyes, and it wasn’t just because of Red Hood, but being reminded from all the times that his family and friends had offered him help. He had selfishly taken theirs too, and it led them to their death. He wasn’t going to do the same to Red Hood.

Red Hood watched him vanish right back into the shadows he appeared from, standing there for a moment, keeping his ear strained in case anything happens to Danny while he was still near. After a few minutes of nothing but the usual sounds of the city at night, he turned around and headed back to his motorcycle, a newfound feeling of disconnectedness in him as his thoughts failed to form beyond basic things. He didn’t know what he was exactly feeling, but he found that he really hated it, but couldn’t bring himself to try and push it away as it became all consuming.

Revving up his motorcycle, he drove off and back towards Crime Alley. Maybe a night patrol around the area before speaking to his commanders about the new rule with Danny would make him stop feeling like this. It usually worked when Red Hood was having a bad day, so why not right now?

------☆------☆------☆-----☆-----☆-----☆------

Tim watched as Red Hood zipped around on his motorcycle, during broad daylight, and searched. He knew what he was looking for too, or who to be more exact. After Tim had the realization from the camera footage he had removed his Red Robin costume to his civilian clothes, because unlike Red Hood, he wasn’t an idiot. He followed him around, well, the best he could anyways. It was a good thing that Red Hood actually kept his tracker on this time, because it made it a lot easier to know where he was going. The other must have been really distracted if he forgot about that and didn’t pay attention to if anybody was tailing him.

He had been following Jason all day, going all throughout the city near Shelton Street and double checking areas sometimes more than once. He was beginning to think that he would never find the superhuman, and he was becoming more doubtful as the sun began sinking. Then Red Hood stopped in an alleyway, and Tim rushed to get over there. When he was finally near the man’s location, he made his way on top of a building close to the alley, so he could spy listen from up above on the rooftop without being noticed.

Cautiously peering down, seeing two people in the alley, and he assumed that the other was the person that Jason was looking for as he was talking to them. Not able to hear what they were saying, he threw down a bug with a microphone and put an earbud in his ear so he could listen in. He almost felt bad for doing so, after hearing how private and emotional the conversation went, but it was important information nonetheless.

From what he could gather, the raven haired kid was in fact the same white haired teen that Duke reported earlier, meaning that he had two forms. This one was most likely to blend in easier with the other people, which was honestly pretty smart on his end. Though it made Tim wonder why he didn’t use it earlier when Signal saw him? Maybe he thought nobody was there and wanted to relax for a second.

Another thing was that the teen trusted Jason enough to give him his name, which was Danny. Whether that was his actual name or not was up for an internal debate later, but Tim stored it away and continued to eavesdrop. After hearing Red Hood make an offer that was incredibly out of character for the man, and the small and somber thanks he got in return, he watched them both make their separate ways.

Everything really was coming together, making a bigger picture for Tim to understand and look at, slowly but surely. Though he needed more information to really know what was happening, before anything terrible happened. It sounded like Danny was afraid of something, not Red Hood, but something else. Was it Gotham? Was that why he wanted to leave? Was it having to do with him being somewhat or entirely inhuman?

Tim didn’t know, but he desperately wanted to. If this Danny was that important to Red Hood, then there must be a reason, and a good one at that. Whatever was harming Danny or making him so afraid that he couldn’t allow Jason to help him, Tim would get to the bottom of it too. He swore that he would keep everybody in Gotham safe, and it included Danny too now as long as he wasn’t the one harming others.

Getting the bug from the alleyway and beginning the long trek back to the Wayne mansion, Tim had a feeling that something much bigger than just some lost superteen being scared was going on, and he didn’t like it. He would patrol for a bit longer tonight, just to make sure everything was fine. He wasn’t going to try and check on Danny.

------☆------☆------☆-----☆-----☆-----☆------

Tim may have been spending a lot of his extra time looking after Danny. A lot more than he was willing to admit. A few days that have passed since he eavesdropped overheard the conversation between Danny and Red Hood in the alley way, and over the course of those days Tim has found himself seeing Danny more than he meant to. Sometimes he would intentionally seek the superhuman out, and other times he would accidentally come upon him. Every time though, nothing strange happened, at least nothing that signaled that Danny was anything other than human.

The first time that Tim had found Danny again was the night of the deep talk between the teen and Jason, and he had been looking out for him while he patrolled. He saw him walking down a street, obviously looking for a place to safely stay the night, if checking buildings and little nooks in alleys was enough to tell that. It concerned Tim that Danny didn’t have a place to live, but he already figured that when he thought about how he had lived with Red Hood for a couple of weeks. Tim may have stayed out longer that night than he usually did, keeping an eye on the teen while he kept another eye on the city, watching both in case something happened.

Luckily, Danny did eventually find a place that he seemed to deem good enough for the night, which was one of the newer abandoned buildings, which didn’t have too many cracks in it yet. It still made Tim worry, and he had to push the urge to go up to the teen and straight up drag them to an actual bed where he would be much safer. Didn’t Danny listen to Jason at all? What happened to the promise of being more careful?

Tim decided to not confront Danny, aware he would scare him much like the others seemed to. Plus, Danny probably had enough of the vigilantes in Gotham to want any more interrogating talking to him. Retiring for that night with a racing mind, Tim wasn’t able to get sleep, instead hiding out in the batcave in front of a computer trying to figure out who Danny truly was. There had to be some information on him, about some superhuman who had two different looks. Yet, Tim found nothing, there was zero data of any kind about a super powered teenager named Danny. It made Tim feel a bit more confused, and wary, but he thought about how Danny was. How secretive and elusive the teen could be when he really wanted to be.

The next time Tim saw Danny, it was completely by accident, with Tim in his civilian identity. He was going down the block for the coffee store that allowed him to put in as many espresso shots as he liked, and he really needed the energy at the moment, when he saw the black messy hair that belonged to Danny. He didn’t think about it at first, his brain supplying him that there were many males in the city with black hair, as he had only seen the hair, but when Danny moved away from the walking crowd and allowed Tim to see more. He knew it was Danny then, the lanky body of the teen unmistakable.

Tim had glanced back at the coffee shop he was nearing, debating for only half a second, before giving in and running after Danny. He didn’t really follow Danny, being more curious than worried, and only watched him for a few minutes. Again, nothing abnormal happened, Danny continued to walk down Gotham’s busy streets like he has always been there. The only reason Tim knew he wasn’t was from how the teen would flinch at sudden loud sounds such as the wails of a siren flying by or shying away from looking up at the tall buildings. He felt like Danny may have come from a smaller city, or maybe even a small town, but it was all speculation, and Tim had coffee to drink.

When Tim went out again as Red Robin that very night, he was searching for Danny. This time to see if the other finally found their way out of the city. It wasn’t that confusing, was it? Surely the teen could find his way after spending so long here. There were plenty of highways and streets that led the way out of Gotham, and if anything, Danny could have just walked in a straight path and found a way out that way. What if Danny didn’t actually want to leave? Did he lie to Jason or Duke? Or is there something else pressuring him to leave? Tim once again thought about Bruce and his actions towards the nonhuman population of Gotham.

Bruce did allow anybody to live in the city, but he was a bit sensitive when it came to those who weren’t entirely human, or human at all for that matter. He had grown a lot from that whenever he adopted Jarro and Duke, but anybody could tell that the man still held some suspicions towards them, no matter how harmless they seemed. If they were unknown, he treated them as if they were a threat. Maybe it was just the over cautious and paranoid side of B talking that drove him towards that. Hopefully it wasn’t because he didn’t like other races than humans and Jarro. Afterall, he had sworn to protect everybody in Gotham as well, which included those who weren’t human.

The third time that Tim saw Danny was also when he was Red Robin, but this time he was in the middle of a fight with a group of petty muggers. He was taking them down rather easily, as they seemed untrained when it came to fighting. It didn’t matter if they outnumbered Red Robin, he had more skill than all of the bozos put together.

It was while he was kicking another mugger in the knee when he felt a small uneasy feeling rise inside him. He didn’t know what it was, but it distracted him for only a second, just enough for one of the men to punch Tim in the jaw. He had felt the air grow colder as he spat out blood, but his body ran hotter from a spike of anger as he swiftly and mercilessly knocked the guy unconscious. He knew that he had hit them with a bit of extra force than necessary, especially since he knocked them clean out, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

It was while he was tying up all the men that the cold atmosphere warmed up a bit more, although the feeling he felt didn’t go away. It was similar to whenever he felt like he was being followed, but different all the same, as it was the same uneasy feeling somebody would feel when entering a graveyard. He hadn’t known it was Danny, but when he exited the alley and saw a small snippet of a boy with black hair running into an alley across the street and the feeling he had immediately lifting, he knew who it was. Was Danny watching him too?

Other than that and the odd vibe, Danny seemed painstakingly average. He never saw his eyes glow, the sharp teeth that Duke talked about, or the white hair that flowed with magic. Danny seemed human, and Tim was almost starting to doubt that he was anything but in the first place. It didn’t make any sense to Tim. How did somebody who before seemed to have a hard time hiding what they truly were, begin doing it so well that it tricked even the most perceptive of people? He didn’t know how to feel about that.

The last time that Tim saw Danny was early the next night. He was trying his hardest to track down Danny once again, hoping that somehow his questions would be answered. He was surprised he was able to go this long without truly being caught, if that time Danny watched him fight was not him getting caught that is. Didn’t Danny have some sort of power that allowed him to sense others when they got near him? Shouldn’t it be working on Tim?

He was standing in an alley, by himself, looking at particularly nothing. This was the first time that the vigilante has seen the other teen doing something that most would call unordinary behavior, and it interested him. He watched, being completely silent and staying what he thought was out of sight. He waited, anticipating for something to happen that would somehow solve this entire mystery.

Nothing did happen, Danny just stood there, and in all honesty it was starting to freak out the self acclaimed detective. Then, as soon as Tim blinked, Danny was gone. Nowhere in the alley below. This caused Tim to freak out, having to swallow down a surprised yelp as he flinched, not expecting that. Did this just prove everything that Duke said? Could Danny actually teleport?

Then the cold air he was starting to grow used to the past few days around Danny increased, causing an involuntary shiver go through Tim. The pressure of the area felt heavier, and it made Tim tense, not moving a muscle afterwards. After a few seconds of realizing how quiet everything became, even the city acting like it was waiting for something to unravel.

Finally letting out a small breath, Tim peeked behind him, seeing that there was in fact a figure there. Seeing this, his heart picked up and he spun around and faced the stranger with two batarangs flying out of his hands. He watched with wide eyes as both of the sharp objects flew right through the other like they were made out of fog, not even scraping them. Then there was a flash of green lights and Tim realized that it was coming from the person’s eyes.

Danny. It was Danny who somehow appeared right behind him without him realizing it. Did the superhuman teleport behind him? Was it just luck that he did that as soon as Tim blinked, or was it another power?

Tim stood there, frozen in a fighting position as he stared at Danny with heavy pants. He hasn’t been that spooked in a while. Now though, he had a good look at the teen. He really did have glowing green eyes, looking similar to neon lights in a mini golf course with how bright they were. They dimmed a bit, allowing Tim to have a better look as he tried to assess his situation, as so far Danny hasn’t tried to harm him.

“It’s not fun being watched is it?” The teen finally said after several minutes had passed by.

“Wha-?” Tim’s confused noise was the only thing his sleep deprived brain could offer for the moment, his thoughts scattering fifty different ways. Danny snorted, his hand immediately going to his mouth as he did so, the green eyes completely fading away as he tried to hold back a giggle. Blue eyes, the teen had light blue eyes and black hair. Tim wonders if B would adopt him if he saw him like that.

“Damn it- I- I was trying to be serious for once. Stop making this so hard, I’m supposed to scare you.” Danny said, still choking down giggles with his bright blue eyes glistening with amusement. They also appeared to be glowing with how the moonlight reflected on them, and Tim squinted his eyes and titled his head to make sure they weren’t. This only made Danny laugh more. “What- what the actual fuck- why are you looking at me like that? You look like a cat- holy shit- I can’t.”

Tim gave the giggling mess of a teen a blank stare as he stood up and straightened out of his fighting pose. “Okay, ‘mister glowy eyes’, you look like one of those stereotypical halloween cats.”

Danny stopped laughing, his eyes blinking with surprise. “My eyes were glowing?”

Well that just threw Tim through a loop. Did he really not know his eyes glowed? Why was everything about this kid so complicated? “How the fuck do you not know?”

“Oh shit, are they doing it right now? I can usually control it, shit, how long has this been going on?” Danny’s amusement earlier was completely gone now, replaced with nervousness.

“No, they’re blue right now.” Tim answered, wanting to lean closer and get a better look at his eyes, but refrained, remembering that Duke said that Danny fled after he tried to get closer.

“Oh, um, that’s cool.” Danny awkwardly replied, his hand going back and scratching the back of his neck. “So, I came up here to try and scare you, but it seems that kinda failed.”

Tim wasn’t about to say that he basically jumped out of his own skin when he saw Danny’s shadowy figure behind him. “How did you pop up behind me like that? I only looked away for half a second at that.” Might as well try and get some answers while Danny seemed like talking.

“None of your business weirdo.” Danny said, arms over his chest. “I should be the one asking you about why you’ve been following me around so much these last couple of days.”

So, Danny did know that Tim has been watching him. “How’d you know that?”

“You’re not that good at being sneaky.” Danny flatly said while giving Tim a face that read “are you serious”.

“Are you sure it just isn’t your powers?” Tim shot back, ruffled from the insult of his skills that he carefully crafted and mastered from years of practice. Totally not from the days he used to stalk Robin and Batman.

Danny went rigid once more, and he didn’t respond for a few seconds before his face turned into a scowl. “Stop stalking me.” He practically growled out, and although Tim saw a small twitch of Danny’s eyes and a hint of green coating them, they didn’t start glowing again. Danny must be trying to suppress it, but it was too late for that in Tim’s opinion.

Tim scoffed and allowed his cape to cover the front of his body as he shifted to lean on his left foot. He didn’t say anything though, and Danny glared at him for a few more seconds before he turned away and went to the ladder that went down the building, taking it down. Tim watched him leave, making no movement as he saw Danny go down the ladder. He wondered why the other didn’t just teleport away like he usually did, but he guessed it was because he was making more of an effort to hide it. It was about time to learn that, albeit a bit too late.

Tim was going to keep an eye out for Danny no matter what the boy said, but he kept that to himself. Though he may not use the same methods, as it seemed to be disturbing Danny. Which he isn’t dumb, he knew he was going a bit overboard. Perhaps approaching this situation differently was a better option, instead of following the poor boy around Gotham.