#there's the making of a terrible crossover here

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

A Visit

Note: A short one but filled with all the right amount of tension. (:

Your face scrunched up in determination as you pulled yourself up one more time, the burn in your arms mentally pushing you further. Just one more is what you kept telling yourself. You were 5 pull-ups from breaking your record and you’d be damned if the exhaustion kept you from achieving it. Soft rock music played in the background as you could feel the sweat beading down your back and forehead, the small basement windows didn’t do much to cool you down during your workout. Jethro had installed the pull up bars for you, saying something about load bearing beams and it was safer to install them down in the basement. He just forgot to tell you how hot it got down there.

You lifted yourself up one last time before dropping to the floor with a guttural cry of accomplishment. The cold polished concrete floor felt nice against your overheated skin. You took a minute to catch your breath before going over to turn the music up a little louder and begin some simple stretches.

Starting in the butterfly position on your yoga mat, you leaned all the way forward, your forehead almost touching your toes and counted to 10. You moved onto some hamstring stretches and then some hip crossovers when you spotted Jethro at the top of the stairs.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked from the floor with a smile.

"Not long enough," was his cheeky reply as he descended the stairs and stood over you. He was dressed in his work attire, making you wonder if he was just here for a visit or if he had yet to change into his casual clothes.

You sat up on your hands and crossed your legs in a sitting position, cocking your head to the side with a smirk.

"Here for work or pleasure?"

He kneeled down in front of you, his large hands resting on your thighs as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Why not both?"

You gave him what he wanted, sitting up so you could properly wrap your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his short hair. Making out with Jethro was definitely one of your favorite past times. He always took his time, each kiss filled with love and his hands never stayed in one place for too long. Like in the moment, his hands moved from your thighs to cradle your face, fingers creeping towards the back of your neck, angling your head up for a deeper kiss, earning a small moan from you as his tongue met yours.

Just as you were about to really get into it, uncrossing your legs and kneeling on your knees so you were both at the same height, he pulled away, peppering kisses down your neck.

"As much as I'd love to continue this, I've got Torres waiting in the car outside for me. I just wanted to stop by and tell you that I might be late for dinner tonight. We're on our way to follow up on a lead."

You groaned at his words and threw him an almost pouty frown.

"You get me all worked up and then just leave me needy. Terrible."

He chuckled and looked down with a smile. "We're in the same boat sweetheart. I come home to find you sweaty and stretching in positions that'd have any man drooling. I can't even stand up right now."

You licked your suddenly dry lips while glancing down at the obvious bulge in his dress pants, before he gave you a warning look.

"I'll make it up to you tonight. I promise."

You rolled your eyes at his insinuation and answered him with a peck on the lips.

"You better."

It only took a few minutes for Jethro to gain control of his body again as you used the time to head upstairs and package some leftover homemade enchiladas for his team, spotting Torres through the window, drumming his fingers on the open car window, clearly becoming impatient.

You met Jethro at the front door, handing him the tupperware of food with a kiss.

"Be safe," you told him, just like every time he left for work.

"I'll try," he teased with a wink, walking out the door. You gave Torres a wave which he reciprocated, eyes lighting up when he saw Jethro headed over to him with food. You were sure the quickest way to his heart was a good home cooked meal.

You waited till they drove off, the car no longer in visibility before shutting and locking the door, headed back down to the basement to finish your workout session.

[toasters0422]

my mom made me watch austin powers and it said that Dr.Evil went to 'Evil Medical School'

And Immediately thought "oh that's where Dr.Zor got their degree."

[gothamcityneedsme]

back in my td debating of 'how dark should it go'

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Dead Boy Detectives: Fic Recs

My latest hyperfixation is Dead Boy Detectives, so oc I've been reading and commenting on a ton of fic. And it's been really nice because the response of the authors has been so warm. I don't think I've ever gotten so many replies so quickly! Also, the fandom has inspired me to actually start writing again for the first time in two years and I've got a great idea for a fanvid. (Any tips on how to make one would be appreciated! 😅)

So in tribute to the lovely fandom, here's a fic rec post (nearly all payneland):

in this city there's a thousand things I want to say to you by laiqualaurelote

Edwin has a sexual awakening and it blows Charles' mind. And other things. Very funny and well written. Also features minor Edwin/Cat King and Edwardian flirting.

I also highly recommend the saviour of the broken, the beaten, and the damned by the same author, which is a kind of multiverse!Edwin fic? Featuring Edwin dying? And Niko time travelling? Trying to save time? Anyway, interesting to see Edwin alive, ageing and in different periods of time/his life.

For the First Time Twice by MmmCookies

Amnesia fic! Charles loses his memories and thinks he and Edwin are married. Very cute (tandem bike date!) and well written, though Edwin's point of view still manages to be angsty. Also, the yearning is off the charts and the most recent chapter turned up the heat.

I guess you're stuck with me by Punny_Puck

AU in which Edwin and Charles actually got married pre-show. Funny, cute with a sweet marriage proposal prequel. Instant comfort fic.

Dance the Night by Gruoch

The gang are hunting an energy-sucking vampire that targets beautiful people, so naturally Edwin MUST disguise himself as the hottest girl in London. This one starts out fun and campy then takes a hard left turn into Serious Business. Prepare yourself for emotional moments, worldbuilding and some really excellent horror.

Long Past Time by sanctuary_for_all

Charles proposes to Edwin post canon. It's a short and sweet established relationship fic with some cool worldbuilding about ghosts and their ability to shape their clothing/appearances.

lay my hands on heaven by Opossum_Subatomic

I had to include a PWP and this is a great one. Extremely well written, in character and romantic. And explicit, obviously.

Data Points by Asidian

Edwin learns to cuddle. It's a production and completely adorable. I love a fic that explores the difference between the boys' physicality and this one's really on point. The writing and characterisation are great and it's nice to see Edwin taking care of Charles.

I also recommend Lanterns In the Dark, which sets the scene for Charles and Edwin's first meeting with some gut-wrenching details about Charles' homelife and Edwin's escape from Hell.

When I Was a Young Boy by flowerbritts

A Good Omens crossover and AU in which Aziraphale is Edwin's adopted father. Family reunions and revelations abound. Also, Edwin gets to be a teenager and slam doors while shouting, as he deserves.

The author has also written Wait, I'm Coming Too, which is a very sweet post canon 'Charles Worries About Edwin and Realises His Feelings' fic inspired by that 'Edwin reading Heartstopper' fanart. Both fics deserve more love!

A Slight Miscalculation by kantigone

Idiots in Love and Didn't Know They Were Dating. Crystal and Niko are the real MVPs, for real. A treat.

Terrible at Keeping Secrets (5+1) by ASingularSadSoggyPringle

Interesting demon!Edwin AU. Charles is a precious cupcake in this fic and Edwin is mostly the same with some Darker moments. I loved the concept and the author adds in some great, creepy details.

somaesthesia by perexcri

Edwin's journey from being touch-averse to touch-starved... at least when it comes to Charles. Palmistry is involved. I loved Edwin's characterisation and the unresolved sexual/romantic tension was on point.

And possibly I like the thrill (of under me you quite so new) by Leandra

Edwin explores his sexuality and re-negotiates his relationship with Charles. Meanwhile, the gang take on the case of a ghost who wants them to matchmake his still-living lover. Crosses over with The Sandman. And Edwin gets to be confident and flirty as a treat.

Always by How You Doing (FancyMeetingYouHere)

Hurt/Comfort fic in which Edwin has a traumatic flashback to the doll-head demon spider and Charles looks after him. Charles reading Good Omens to Edwin is a nice, meta touch.

Made You Look by Baby_Spinach

The agency are hunting an incubus that decides to take on Edwin's appearance. A repression explosion ensues. Fun fic.

Shape Me by dearheartdont

This one's actually a character study of Charles and his mixed race Indian heritage (so no Edwin) and it's so well done. It's also part of a series in progress about Charles growing up in the 80s with all the racism and homophobia that that entails. I look forward to seeing where it goes.

The Most Tender Place In My Heart by coloursflyaway

Edwin shares memories of how he fell in love with Charles, who figures out his own feelings in the process. It's super sweet and involves fun pre-show flashbacks and defintely deserves more attention!

I also loved Won't Fear Love by the same author, in which Charles takes Edwin out on dates and breaks the cuteness scales. And shout out to Good Enough which is the first fic I bookmarked for this fandom! 🥳

Anyway, thank you to all these amazing writers for making this fandom so special! 🥰

[fluentmoviequoter]

People Like Us

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!SWAT!sniper!reader

Summary: Mid-Wilshire officers need assistance, so your SWAT team joins them to diffuse a hostage situation. As a result, Lucy learns that Tim has a girlfriend.

Warnings: hostage situation, this is early seasons but I added Nyla bc I love her, fluff, crossover, some grumpy!Tim

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Can you see me now?”

“Street,” you sigh into your radio. “Why are you whispering? You’re 46 yards away, it’s not like I’m going to locate you by sonar.”

“So, you’re saying you couldn’t shoot me from here?”

“Considering your big head is square in my sights, no, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“My head is not big!”

“Are you two done?” Hondo asks tiredly.

“Depends,” you answer with a smile. “Why are you asking?”

“20 Squad,” Hicks calls over the radio. “Mid-Wilshire division just requested tactical support. There’s a hostage situation at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, corner of Wilshire and Fairfax.”

“Let’s roll!” Hondo commands.

You stand from your position and ignore Street’s static murmur of “That’s where you were” as you return your long-range precision sniper to its case.

“I need my AR-10,” you request as you approach the SWAT parking lot.

“Loaded in Black Betty,” Luca yells from the driver’s seat.

“You’re the best, Luca!”

“I know.”

“Officer Lopez?” Hondo inquires as you exit Black Betty at the corner of Ogden Street and Wilshire Boulevard.

“Thanks for coming,” she answers. “We’ve got an active shooter and at least fifteen known hostages. Our shooter, Wayne Ritter, entered the building, toured the exhibits, then disarmed a security guard and started making demands.”

“How long ago?” Deacon asks.

“About an hour. We’ve had a hostage negotiator on the phone with him several times but he’s not making any progress.”

“Has he fired any shots?”

“At least three. We’re not sure if anyone is injured.”

“You’ve got officers on the east side of the building by the urban light display,” you point out. “You think he’s going to use that exit?”

“Just trying to cover our bases,” another woman answers. “I’m Officer Harper, I work with UCs, just assisting the detectives on this one. Ritter’s a prime suspect in a carjacking turned homicide a few miles from here.”

“There are three sets of doors on the north side of the building. Open into a fenced area that backs up to Fairfax,” Tan says, looking at a virtual map.

“Can he get to the underground parking from there?” Luca asks.

“If he hops the fence, yeah.”

“We’ve got officers blocking off the parking area,” Angela explains. “And three groups waiting on Fairfax, including my rookie. If he leaves, we’ve got him.”

“We’re just more worried about what he’ll do to get out,” Nyla adds.

You look around the immediate area as Deacon gets more information about the employees, security guard, and the operating cameras inside the museum. When Hondo notices your furrowed brows, he steps toward you.

“What are you thinkin’?”

“Three doors at the back into a fenced area is a terrible choice. A few doors and an emergency exit to the east trap you with a bunch of cops. The building’s probably locked down, so he can’t get to parking from inside,” you list off. “If he hasn’t tried to leave, it means he’s looked. There’s only a few windows in the building.”

“You want to find him.”

You nod and point toward the intersection of Wilshire and Fairfax. “There’s windows on this side, facing south. If I can locate him, I can take him down.”

“We can’t get you close enough,” Harper interjects. “We’ve got deadly force authorization, but we can’t risk putting you anywhere near his eyeline."

You smile at her concerns, and Street steps back.

“Can he see 433 feet above street level?” you challenge.

“145 yards?” Luca asks incredulously.

“The AR-10 shoots up to 600.”

“It’s not about the gun,” Deacon adds.

You turn toward Hondo, hoping he has more faith in you than the rest of your team.

“She can do it,” Street argues.

Lopez watches you and Hondo, and Nyla raises her phone to her ear.

“5900 Wilshire Boulevard,” she says. “31-stories?... Yes, sir…” She ends the call and tells Hondo, “SBE officials are allowing us to use the building as we need.”

Hondo sighs and shakes his head. “You’re lucky I trust you.” He smiles as he adds, “That we all trust you. Get up there and find this guy.”

You nod and then pull your AR-10 onto your back and run down Wilshire Boulevard to enter the skyscraper.

“Hopefully he actually has a big head,” Street calls after you.

A shot rings from the museum, and Angela raises her radio to ask, “Bradford? Where’d that shot come from?”

Tim and Lucy duck behind a concrete art installment east of the museum as a shot echoes off the smooth surfaces surrounding them.

“Bradford? Where’s that shot come from?” Angela asks.

“Northeast corner,” he answers. “Chen and I are south of the gate.”

“SWAT team’s here and we’ve got a sniper getting in position. Any sign of our hostages?”

Tim moves to the end of the abstract wave he’s using as cover but can’t see anything through the dark windows of the door closest to him.

“Nope. Nolan’s in the garage. Interior access can’t be far from where that shot came from.”

“Nolan?” Harper calls. “What’s your status?”

“All clear down here. The doors haven’t opened. We’re holding a few civilians on the far east wall. The shot was above us,” Nolan explains. “Probably not far from the south entrances.”

“Can somebody get a thermal reading?” Nyla asks loudly.

“Walls are too thick from this direction,” an officer answers. “Airship One is two minutes out, going to try to get a shot from the roof.”

“Send us in,” Hondo suggests. “We’ve got thermal scanners, if we can get to a window or door, we can find this guy.”

“Harper, Lopez!” someone calls from the mobile control center. “Grey’s on the phone with Ritter!”

Hondo follows Angela and Nyla into the trailer, where Sergeant Grey has a call on speaker.

“I understand, Wayne. We’re working on getting that for you. But I need to know that everyone inside is okay. We heard a shot, and you aren’t trusting me enough to tell me what happened.”

“‘Cause nothing happened!” Wayne snaps.

“Okay,” Grey concedes, turning to look at Angela. “Then can you tell me how many people are with you? We’ll need to help them, too.”

“They don’t matter!”

Someone screams in the background, a sound laced with fear. Wade shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Twenty minutes,” Wayne demands. “Or there will be one less person for you to help.”

“Mr. Ritter!”

The line beeps, and Wade slams the button to silence the ended call. “He is progressing and if we don’t get some eyes in there quickly, we’re going to be cleaning up a slaughter instead of recovering hostages.”

Hondo raises his hand to his ear, and the Mid-Wilshire officers watch as he smiles.

“I might be able to help with that,” he says.

When you finally reach the thirty-first floor, your adrenaline is pumping, but your breathing is slow and even. You had to stop three well-dressed businessmen from getting on the elevator with you. One even had the nerve to flirt with you until he saw the gun at your back. So, when you finally step out onto the roof, you sigh in relief. At the northwest corner, you lower to one knee and raise your handheld scope, which shows distance, wind direction, wind speed, and crosswinds.

“Perfect,” you murmur.

After you raise your gun to your shoulder, you lean toward your dominant side and use the ultra-clear scope to look into the southern windows. You move your steadying hand to your radio, propping the gun against the concrete pillar before you, and switch your radio on.

“Hondo, I’m in position,” you alert. “Got eyes in the back windows.”

“10-4,” he replies. “I’m with Mid-Wilshire’s watch commander. If you get a shot, take it.”

“Can I get a physical description of our guy?” you request. “I’d rather not pull an accidental Jack Traven and shoot a hostage.”

“Right here,” Grey offers as he pulls up Wayne Ritter’s record on a laptop. “Security cameras are showing him in dark blue jeans, a white or yellow button-down shirt, and a new mustache.”

Hondo raises his phone and takes a picture of the screen, then speaks to you as he types. “I’m sending you a picture. 5’10”, dark hair, wearing dark blue jeans, a light button-down, and he’s got a mustache now.”

“New look for a new crime?” you joke.

“New attempt, at least,” Hondo agrees. “Deacon and Street are moving to the east side to assist, and Luca and Tan are taking Black Betty to 6th and Fairfax in case he tries to run.”

“Hondo, is anyone covering the west side of the building? If he finds a way to bail that direction, he can get to Orange and disappear.”

“You have someone on the west side?” Hondo asks the people in the trailer with him.

“All units,” Wade radios. “Who’s covering the west side?”

“Bradford and Chen,” Lucy answers. “There’s only one egress route, but it’s locked.”

“Don’t try to open doors, Chen!”

“I didn’t! I can see the lock.”

Wade shakes his hand and gestures to the radio in a there’s your answer motion. Hondo smiles knowingly and relays the information to you.

“Is there exterior roof access?” you ask.

“Not that we know of.”

“Hondo, I’ve got movement,” you alert, shifting your weight as you prepare to shoot.

“Movement at the northside doors, too,” Street calls.

“Eyes on several subjects on north side,” a Mid-Wilshire officer notifies.

“He’s planning a roach light,” you and Tim Bradford radio simultaneously.

“Roach-light?” Nyla asks.

“When you turn on a light, roaches run in different directions and you can’t pick out any particular one,” Hondo explains. “I thought our girl was the only one that used that nasty analogy, but I guess she’s infecting your people with it, too.”

“That’s not the only thing she’s teaching him,” Angela points out. “He’s learning some manners, too.”

“Who?” Nyla asks.

“Focus,” Wade encourages.

Hondo switches his radio from his earpiece to the small speaker attached to his vest as officers continue alerting Grey, Lopez, and Bishop of movement in the museum. He shakes his head and prepares to call out for you just before you radio.

“Eyes on Ritter. I’ve got a shot.”

Wade nods, and Hondo commands, “Take it.”

You exhale as you squeeze the trigger. After your shoulder jerks back slightly, you reposition yourself to watch the impact. The bullet hisses through the air for only a second, and then the glass of the center window shatters before Wayne Ritter hits the ground.

“Suspect down,” you radio. “Code 4 here.”

“All units, Ritter is down,” Wade alerts. “Repeat, Ritter is down. Move in for hostage recovery.”

“Street, Deacon, move in on southern windows,” Hondo says as he exits the police trailer.

While you watch through your scope, he meets your team and, with Street, covers Deacon while he climbs through the broken window and kneels to secure Mr. Ritter.

“Nice shot,” Deacon applauds, looking up toward the roof you’re waiting on.

“Thanks, Deac,” you answer. “Hey, Street, that’s how you get someone down while making sure they can still pay for their crimes on this side of the grave.”

“Say that to my face,” he retorts.

“I am. You just can’t see me.”

“Hondo,” Street begins.

“I’m not getting in the middle of this. Get this guy to transport so we can help with recovery. Deac, on me.”

As Street pulls the injured shooter toward a waiting police cruiser, you lift your rifle and return to the roof access door. The trip down is faster than it was going up, and you walk toward a group of officers gathering the hostages outside of the museum.

“Who’s that?” Lucy asks as you walk to Nolan’s side.

“How can I help?” you offer before she gets an answer. “My team is clearing the upper levels.”

Nyla calls your name, jogging toward you. “Ritter didn’t have the gun on him, and he’s saying that he had his own plus the one he lifted from the guard.”

“I’ll find them,” you reply. “I’ll let my team know so they can keep an eye out too.”

“I’ll help,” Tim offers.

You nod and step away with him as Nolan joins you. Lucy watches you go, completely enamored by you and your skills.

“Who is that?” she repeats.

“The SWAT sniper?” Angela clarifies. “That’s Bradford’s girlfriend.”

Lucy’s jaw drops as her eyes widen. “She is Bradford’s what?”

“Your TO didn’t share that? Shocking.”

“Is there really a sniper here?” Jackson asks excitedly. “The one time I agree to go somewhere without my TO, I miss a sniper.”

“Not just a sniper,” Lucy explains. “Bradford’s sniper girlfriend.”

“Well, duh, she’s the best sniper in LA county.”

Lucy throws her arms up and asks, “Did everyone know except me?”

“Bishop knows too,” Jackson adds to mess with Lucy.

“As much as I’m not enjoying all this TO-rookie talk, I’ve more cases to work,” Nyla interrupts. “It was kind of nice to meet you all.”

“See you around!” Angela calls.

“You sound sure of that.”

“Call it a hunch, partner.”

Nyla waves off Angela’s teasing tone and turns toward an unmarked car. As Lucy continues asking questions about how someone like you ended up with someone like Tim, you search the museum for the weapons Ritter left behind in his attempt to flee.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just storm in and save the day,” you tell Tim as you circle an art display.

“Last time I did that, you threatened to shoot me,” he points out.

“Because you need to stop putting your life in danger when there are better options.”

“You mean like calling you?”

You smile at Tim over the top of the ceramic statue and shake your head. He raises his brows and prepares to speak before Nolan clears his throat.

“I found a gun,” he states when you look over. “I’m sure it can wait, though.”

“Where, boot?” Tim snaps.

You look at him to communicate a silent warning to be nice.

“Behind the plaster self-portrait over here. Looks like a standard issue private security piece,” Nolan answers.

You follow Tim to the wall and nod as you look at the weapon. While you tell Hondo, Tim tells Grey. In less than five minutes, you locate the other gun and regroup with your team outside the museum. Several officers thank you for your assistance or applaud your clean shot, and you ignore Street’s dramatic and sarcastic fawning over you.

“Oh, you shot that unarmed man so well! Will you please sign my face?” he asks, clasping his hands together as he raises his voice.

“Uh, excuse me?” someone asks, looking between you and Street. “Is it true that you’re dating Officer Bradford?”

“You must be Lucy,” you realize, offering your name and hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I swear none of it is true.”

You lean toward her and whisper, “Tim’s not as hard on you when you’re not around, just so you know.”

“Why are you dating him?” she blurts out. “You’re so different, so nice, and he’s so… Tim.”

“People like us tend to find each other on accident,” you explain. “I got lucky with Tim.”

“What Officer Chen is trying to ask is why you’re dating a cop that is nowhere near as talented or cool as you,” Hondo offers, smiling at something over your shoulder.

“Is she asking that?” Tim muses behind you. “That’s interesting.”

“Honestly, it’s a fair question,” Lucy admits, shrugging.

“Why do you seem so surprised?” you wonder aloud.

“I’m shocked! I thought he was single, for one, but you’re amazing! You can do anything!”

“Or date anyone,” Street adds. “Hondo has been trying to make her see that for years.”

Hondo shakes his head, looking at Tim as he promises, “I have not.”

“Now that we’ve established she’s too good and talented for me, Chen, maybe we should get back to work,” Tim announces.

“Why bother?” you tease. “I already did all the heavy lifting.”

Hondo’s phone chimes, and he sighs before he says, “We gotta roll.”

“I’ll see you tonight?” you ask Tim.

He nods and doesn’t complain when you step toward him and kiss his cheek.

“Don’t be too hard on Chen,” you whisper.

“She’ll be busy spearheading your fan club,” he grumbles. “Or starting a petition for you to dump me.”

“People like us work, Tim. That’s why we’re so great together.” You step back and smile as you call, “Nice to meet you, Lucy.”

“You, too!”

After you get into Black Betty and close the door, Lucy and Tim stand side-by-side and watch until the lights disappear between buildings.

Lucy sighs. “I want to be her when I grow up.”

“I wasn’t aware you’d planned that far ahead.”

“Maybe I will start that petition now.”

[lnfours]

a nonsense christmas | l.n

summary: f1 heartthrob meets pop girlie central

face claim: sabrina carpenter

warnings: social media!au, language, this is my second ever social media au pls bear w me

y/ny/l/n 📍london, england

liked by landonorris, madisonbeer, zendaya and 1,200,732 others ‘sue me’ mv is out now! 💋 829,382 comments

zendaya i’m obsessed with you

y/ny/l/n

tell thomas to move aside bc im coming over.

zendaya

LMFAAOOOO

y/nfan1 lando norris??? what’re u doing here??

formulawhore

i was just about to ask the same thing 😂

madisonbeer i’m literally in love with you

y/ny/l/n

will u pls accept my hand in marriage?

madisonbeer

of course

landonorris london, huh?

y/ny/l/n

🫣

fan1

Y/N X F1 CROSSOVER??

danieleicciardo wait, landonorris, this is her?

dannyric3444

WHAT DO U MEAN DANIEL

landonorrizzz

WHAT DO U KNOW DANNY!!!!

landonorris

whatve you done, mate?

landonorris 📍london, england

liked by y/ny/l/n, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 3,899,013 others home is where the fun is 😁 1,820,848 comments

maxfewtrell home is where i am, that’s all that matters

formulaonefan444

ur the best wag of them all, truly

landonorris

keep telling yourself that, mate 😅

y/ny/l/n as a wise man once said: london, huh?

landonorris

you can’t use the same lines on me that i use on you

y/ny/l/n

or what? 🥴

fan1

OH????????

danielricciardo

lando.jpg content??

landonorris

🫣

maxsredbull

OH YES WE WON!

madisonbeer

i didn’t know u knew how to dress 🤨

landonorris

funny 😐

madisonbeer

i’m ur fav 🥰

landonorris

ur just full of jokes today aren’t u

madisonbeer

ik where u live

landonorris

😰 uh oh

y/ny/l/n

📍london, england

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, riabish and 2,031,672 others london is cool i guess 993,839 comments

madisonbeer one chance is all i’m asking for PLEASE

y/ny/l/n

u always have a chance 🥰🥰🥰

madisonbeer

TELL HIM TO MOVE THEN!!!!

fan2

HIM?? WHOS HIM???? MADS!!!

landonorris nice hat

y/ny/l/n

thanks 😁

oscarpiastri

didn’t know you had a new merch line out, mate?? landonorris

landonorris

FUCK OFF???

y/ny/l/n

oscarpiastri LMFAOOO

lewishamilton lovely to meet you ❤️

y/ny/l/n

you too!! 🥹🫶🏻

lando.jpg 📍london, england

liked by y/ny/l/n, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 1,210,039 others don’t let her fool you, she’s in her element 732,939 comments

madisonbeer she’s so pretty

y/ny/l/n

shut up i’ll marry you

madisonbeer

FINALLY

fan3

the way he captures her?? YOU CANT CONVINCE ME THEYRE NOT A THING!

landonorrizz4

oh they DEFINITELY ARE

dannyriccowboy

SHE WAS AT THE MIAMI GP!! IM CONVINCED THEYVE BEEN TALKING SINCE

formulaoneee

OMG SHUT UP!!!!!!

y/ny/l/n

hey, ur pretty good at this photography thing!

lando.jpg

helps when i’ve got a pretty good model

f1lewis44

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

y/ny/l/n 📍london, england

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, madisonbeer and 2,673,482 others it’s cuffing season, or whatever sza said 914,444 comments

madisonbeer FINALLY!!!

y/ny/l/n

:)

lewishamilton 🥺🥺 the note

y/ny/l/n

I KNOW 🥺🥺

oscarpiastri i don’t think u understood what she meant by big boy

y/ny/l/n

oh no, TRUST me, i got it 😌

oscarpiastri

IM GONNA GO WASH MY EYES WITH BLEACH

danielricciardo

IM JOINING YOU oscarpiastri

charlesleclerc this is adorable, actually

landonorris whoever wrote that has terrible handwriting

y/ny/l/n

and no rizz 🙂

landonorris

now that’s a violation

landonorris 📍london, england

liked by y/ny/l/n, maxfewtrell, lewishamilton and 3,444,009 others tis the season 1,932,004 comments

y/ny/l/n love ur face 🤍

landonorris

love urs more ❤️

maxfewtrell that last pic 😭

landonorris

im honestly surprised she hasn't stabbed me yet

y/ny/l/n

sleep with one eye open tonight

landonorris

oh no

madisonbeer so like... hard launch of soft launch?

landonorris

both

danielricciardo FINALLY GOD DO U KNOW HOW HARD OF A SECRET THIS WAS TO KEEP

oscarpiastri

^!!!!!

landonorris

SORRY

charlesleclerc

what kind of cookies were u making tho?

landonorris

chocolate chip 😁

charlesleclerc

ayeee

f1fan04 I KNEW IT!!!

y/n/l/n 📍london, england

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, riabish and 2,873,004 others wrote a cute christmas song about a cute boy, 'a nonsense christmas' is out now 🧡 1,229,983 comments

madisonbeer MY EARS HAVE BEEN BLESSED

y/ny/l/n

me whenever u release new music

landonorris 🧡 i love you

y/ny/l/n

i love u, too, my papaya boy 🧡🧡

fan5

‘my papaya boy' IM CRYING

maxfewtrell i don't know what i was expecting but it wasn't THAT MY GOD.

y/ny/l/n

🫶🏻

danielricciado 'im talking big snow balls' now...

charlesleclerc

i never thought we'd hear her sing about balls but here we are

oscarpiastri

idk how im supposed to look the two of you in the eyes ever again

y/ny/l/n

CAN YOU BLAME ME??? IM NOT GONNA APOLOGISE, I MEAN LOOK AT HIM!!!

landomclaren043

real.

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

TENDER LIKE A BRUISE ─── ethan landry 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “A lover? Maybe. Something tender, anyway. But tender like a bruise.” — ‘The Winner’s Kiss’, Marie Rutkoski

pairing. spiderman!ethan landry x reader

warnings. swearing, mention of blood + death, mildly suggestive

summary. its late at night when you get a knock at your window. first, its a familiar mask, then a really, really familiar face. (1) (2) (3) (4)

a/n.  i honestly just wanted an excuse to write about patching up this lovable dork. this is also the weirdest crossover ive ever made but hey! if the shoe fits, the shoe fits (ethan landry is 110% spiderman nerd coded). an early warning: this is sooo all over the place. i fr do not know where this is going or if i should make a part 2

i.

You’re staring at your monitor, half-asleep and half-wishing your econ class got a bomb threat so you didn’t have to get assigned homework, when you hear a knock at your window. 

It was four-am on a Thursday in the middle of March, so you were expecting a knock. It was probably Quinn, or maybe even Tara, knocking on your window to get into the flat because they lost their keys somewhere at the frat party and didn’t want to alarm Sam. 

Having the room with the fire-escape window was a blessing and a curse. For one, the view was beautiful, and you could sneak out without any of your roommates knowing. On the other hand, however, any stranded friends of yours snuck back in through your window. 

Well, whatever. You slammed your laptop shut on your desk, and walked to your window. In the journey, however, you paused. 

The crime rate in New York had gone up terribly recently, and you had remembered that case just a few weeks ago about a man who broke in through a fire escape window… 

You weighed your options: open the window, oh it’s just Annika, shoo her out of your room, continue Econ homework. Open the window, oh it’s a murderer! Die, don’t finish Econ homework. 

You opened the window. 

Then: “Spiderman?!” You all but screamed, taking a hesitant step back. 

It was Spiderman, the guy in the spiderman suit, New York’s “friendly neighborhood Spiderman”, the hero who fought crime in Brooklynn and swung around Times Square, that Spiderman. 

And he was here. On your fire escape, awkwardly shuffling (which reminded you of a certain dork who was at that Halloween frat party right about now), hands behind his back. 

“Spiderman? What the— fuck, are you—?” You repeated, and you could practically hear his stumbling thoughts as he gestured incoherently to himself, arms flailing about. 

“Hi?” He settled on, then groaned, lifting himself into your bedroom. You took another step back, tentatively eyeing the little league baseball bat you had in the corner of your bedroom, a keepsake from home. 

Once more, the thoughts of those recent window-entry break-ins flashed in your head, and even though it was Spiderman, what if it wasn’t? What if it was just some weirdo freak in the costume, about to use your trust of the hero to their advantage?

Spiderman, solemnly, seemed to notice this hesitation in you. “I’m not— I’m not going to hurt you, I just…” Spiderman sighed, and then all at once and far too fast, he pulled his mask clean off. 

Suddenly, a familiar head of curls were splayed out on an equally as familiar brown-eyed face. 

“Landry?” You said in the same tone as before, except this time it was Ethan Landry, Quinn’s awkward, younger-by-3-minutes brother, who ended up rooming with Chad, your own friend from highschool, after Quinn moved in with you.

Your only conversation had been nods in Econ, handing him a drink at a party, asking if he’d seen Quinn, him asking if you’d seen Chad, and now… whatever this was. 

“This” was Ethan Landry in the Spiderman suit — because he was Spiderman(!!!!), the biggest mind-fuck you’d had since you found out Sam’s bio-dad was a weirdo murdering loser rotting in jail with his oddly homoerotic, equally as murderous, bestfriend — politely closing your window and dusting himself off so as to not get your room dirty. 

This was not the shock you were hoping for right before midterms. 

Then, you saw how pale-faced and sweaty Landry was, a red-and-blue gloved hand pressed against his abdomen, slowly hunching further. 

“Sorry— I,” He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out between his teeth, “I got cut, and I— your apartment was closer than Chad and I’s place, and I also couldn’t go there, because I lost my keys while I was swinging—“ 

“Hold on— Landry! Back up a moment!” You protested, interrupting his anxious rambling. “Let’s get you patched up first, okay? I won’t accept any of your answers until then.” 

Quickly, you wrapped an arm around him, helping him limp over to your small, crowded apartment bathroom. 

You situated the 6'0 giant you’d only referred to as “Landry” for the better half of the past six months onto the toilet, then rummaged through your bathroom closet, searching for the first-aid kit Quinn had used on her latest hook-up just last week after he bonked his head on her bed frame. 

(That was hilarious and disgusting, having to sew stitches onto one of her hookups while she wore a police costume and him a bright prison suit. You were not going to pry, but crudely speaking, it was a shock to find out Quinn was… kinky.) 

When you finally got it, you turned, having expected Landry to have pulled the top half of his suit off. Instead, he sat, head leaning against the tiled bathroom walls, cloaked hand still pressed firm against his wound. 

“That thing’s got a zipper on it, doesn’t it?” You said, taking a peek at the backside of Landry’s suit. 

He nodded. 

“So?” You said, expectantly placing your hands on your hips. But Landry stayed still, as if something was holding him back. 

“By gods, Landry, are you embarrassed?” You said, aghast. By the looks of his increasingly red face, you were right.

Extremely affronted at his ill-timed shyness, you swiftly found the zipper to his Spiderman suit and helped the boy peel off the top half. 

“Jesus, Ethan, you’re practically bleeding to death. Stop being so shy, I can handle you of all people.” You whispered to him as you did so, and he let out a shaky breath. 

(Not because of the wound, but rather how close you were, his real name on your whispering lips as you almost graced the side of his face, your hands undressing him. He felt like he was on fire. 

Fuck, Ethan thought, then, immediately after, shook himself mentally of such thoughts.)

Then, with several beads of sweat dripping from Ethan’s forehead, a low groan coming from him, you saw just how bad his wound was. 

It was a messy, leaking gash on the left of his lower stomach, blood staining his thin skin. Landry seemed entirely focussed on the pain, eyes squinted and body wincing with every labored breath. 

So, you moved swiftly, opening up your bottle of rubbing alcohol and throwing the cap behind you, informing Ethan it was going to “hurt like the time Sam punched you square in the nose because she thought you were hooking up with Tara” (to be fair, that did hurt a lot — Ethan cried a little, after it, and you had to silently hand him tissues) before dousing his wound in the solution. 

Ethan’s back immediately arched in pain, head thrown back, and you could hear him bite back a soft whimper. His now-bare hands grabbed at the closest thing he could — your sweater sleeve, which was apparently at the perfect height for his incredibly lanky, though shockingly well-built, arms to hold — squeezing down in pain. 

“I’m sorry, truly,” you whispered, on your knees in front of him, as he was far too tall to perform this stitching up without doing so. 

(You continued by knotting your needle and thread, ignoring the odd predicament you had found yourself in, on your knees in a cramped bathroom, so close you could feel Ethan’s warm breath on your neck. You swallowed, head fuzzy, then blinked rapidly, trying to get your thoughts back on track.)

If that had bothered him, you were more than worried at how he’d react to your poor stitching ability. You’d only ever fixed up a hole in your shirt, so any sewing knowledge you knew, you were going to apply to Ethan’s skin now. 

“I’m gonna stitch it up now, okay?” You said, in a soft, dulcet tone, considering the pain he was going through. 

Ethan nodded vehemently, probably more so interested in getting it all over with. 

You made quick work of the operation, sewing his skin together, back and forth, back and forth. Your concentration drowned out any and all of your thoughts, except for a stuttered keen or bitten curse word from Ethan every now and then, that effectively shattered the mental wall you’d been building. 

Finally, you unraveled the white roll of bandages sitting on the counter, and wrapped a thick dressing around his abdomen, crossing over his left shoulder to give it some stability. 

(Your elbows had been propped up on either side of Ethan’s thighs, and you were so carefully focussed on wrapping his gash correctly that you hadn’t realized how close you were to his… well, him. 

Ethan had, however, and gulped at how suggestive his view was, looking down and just seeing the crown of your head over his lap. So Ethan looked away, squeezing his eyes shut and desperately focussed on keeping something down.)

Finally, you finished, rubbed your sweaty palms on your thighs, and looked up at Ethan, who was leaning back, head on the wall. Your cheeks dusted pink, seeing how he stared at you through his long, brown lashes, slowly blinking, lips parted. 

You coughed, looking away from the boy, and got up. “You okay to stand?” 

Ethan blinked, then nodded, heaving himself up from the toilet seat. He limped across the hall to your bedroom, then sat on the chair sitting by your desk. 

“You should sleep here tonight. I don’t think your sister will ever forgive me if I let you go to bed alone with a knife-wound.” You flashed him a smile. “But first: what the hell was that?”

Ethan bit his lip. “Surprise?”

You gave Ethan a look, settling on your bed across from him. “I thought you were at that halloween party, with Chad and Quinn?”

“Okay, fine. I was at that party, but I… kinda sort of stole a police’s walkie talkie, like, two years ago and I’ve been using it since to hear about any crime going on. There was a 10-31 — an active burglary,” he said, noting your confused face, “at a local bodega, so I told everyone I was going home, and left. They’d run into an alley by the time I got there, so I followed them, and things got a little… messy.”

You nodded, following the story carefully. “And when did… all of this start?” You gestured to him in the half done up Spiderman suit. 

“Well,” Ethan averted your gaze, “When I was seventeen, I went with my dad to a crime scene during a stupid Bring-Your-Kid-to-work-day activity. The place was a real hole-in-the-wall illegal animal testing lab, and I was being dumb, touching things I shouldn’t have, geeking out over whatever latest smuggled in Oscorp tech they had blown up, when a spider bit me in the neck. After peeking through the case files, I found out it was a radioactive spider. The next few days after that I got sick, then got better, and one day after that I woke up and I could do crazy shit like climb my bedroom walls.”

You blinked, digesting the large threshold of information. Just as you were about to ask another question, Ethan let out a large, teary eyed yawn. 

All at once he seemed so much more tired than you thought he’d been, all the pain he’d experienced showing clearly on his delicate features.

Your brows knit together. “…Okay, I think it's time you change out of those clothes, I order food, then you go to bed.” 

Ethan agreed numbly, hunching over on the chair he was sitting on. Quickly, you began digging through your closet for clothes that might fit his muscular frame — a feature that surprised you as much as finding out he was Spiderman, considering you thought him to be a skinny and lanky tree. 

After a moment, you pulled out two pieces. “It’s all I had that would fit you,” you said quietly, handing him a pair of pink Hello-Kitty pajama pants you bought in the wrong size, and a “I Survived My Trip To NYC” shirt Mindy gave you back in highschool. “Sorry.”

“No, I—“ Ethan fumbled awkwardly, taking the clothes from you, ears tinged red, “thanks. For everything.” He settled on, looking from his hands to your face.

You peered up at him, analyzing the boy-hero. His deep brown eyes, the freckles that danced across his cheeks, how his lips pursed, watching you look at him.

The air between the both of you had suddenly turned static, and you were so much more aware of how flush you were against one another.

Ethan’s gaze flitted from your eyes to your lips, trailing across your face almost unbearably slow.

But then you blinked, sobered, and stepped away from him. “I’m— gonna,” you caught your breath, “I’ll let you change.”

You quickly exited, leaving Ethan in the room alone.

(Ethan’s face burned, terribly red while he felt feverish just by the slight touch of your fingers on his own. How you had stared at him, your eyes coursing over his entire being—

There had been something there, but Ethan could not find it in himself to pry.)

[bonnie-ollea]

CLICK ON IMAGE FOR BETTER QUALITY

EHEH so here's TSC in my little TOH crossover.

I just realized that my post are terrible quality until you click on the post, I've looked it up and I promise not to make the same mistake again.

Sadly I noticed AFTER making this, so this has the same problem.

Also, I used they/them pronouns for TSC even though I believe all the stickman are male, but I thought non-binary was better idk.

I have a little story, nothing too intricate for these guys, they won't be TOH characters' counterparts, for example TSC isn't Luz's counterpart.

I still have no idea what to do with my backgrounds, lol.

I hope y'all like it tomorrow I'll see who else to make.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Oh my God… as soon as I read your post I had a thought… Probably unnecessarily cruel… What if the Children of Oda (46) and Ai (7) end up in Tayvat with the reader… This would make things more difficult for the poor reader. Because In addition to trying to survive, there is also the need to take care of children… And absolutely ordinary children without abilities. And the rest will panic greatly. Especially if the reader herself is a child or a teenager, although the plus is that the reader looks like just a young creator, if this seems too cruel and/or difficult, you can ignore or change my request, thank you very much for your attention, good luck!!!

If you were not alone

Part I

_____

Self-Aware! BSD AU x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Characters:

Self-Aware! Platonic! Aya Koda, Self-Aware! Platonic! Katsumi, Self-Aware! Platonic! Shinji, Self-Aware! Platonic! Kousuke, Self-Aware! Platonic! Sakura, Self-Aware! Platonic! Yuu

Reader: Teen! GN! Reader

Warning: English is my second language

👧🏻 🚸 At first, the situation didn't look too bad. Yes, all of you woke up in the wilderness, and you have no idea, how you get here, or how to return home, but, none of you were injured, and hilichurls looked surprisingly friendly and didn't try to attack you.

However, the emotions in the group weren't even slightly positive.

You were hugging crying Sakura and Shinji. The girl buried her face in your chest, and the boy was clinging to your side. 

Katsumi, Kousuke and Yuu were trying to keep themselves together, trying to act as big boys. But you can see tears in their eyes. Soon, they joined the group hug.

Aya was silent. She was a little bit tougher, then Oda's kids. You will be tough, if your adopted father is Vampire Count Bram Stoker. 

But she also was hugging you. Because now, she was a child. Not a Defender of Justice.

You were whispering reassuring words, promising, that all of you will be safe.

You want to believe that.

When you were more or less calmed down, your small group start moving to the nearest city.

Aya, Katsumi, Kousuke and Yuu were walking before you. You were holding Shinji's and Sakura's hands. You were making sure, that no one will get lost.

As the oldest in this group, you must take care of them.

 👧🏻🚸 Mondstadt was strange. From the game, you got an impression, that Mondstadt were a friendly city. So why... Why everyone were glaring at you?

 The answer came in a form of a statue. A statue made of gold. A statue of an adult version of you, made of gold.

 The statue was terrifying. It wasn't too big. It wasn't scary. But sometimes felt wrong. Something in every little bit of the statue made you feel frozen with fear and disgust.

 And, it seems, that your companions got the same feelings as you.

 You felt glares on you. Mondstadt was quiet. Waiting for something.

 The silence were overwhelming.

Yuu's voice could be mistaken for screams in this silence.

 "[Y/N], don't worry, this monster may look like you, but you will be looked much better, when you grew up."

 And the first of many "Imposter! Dirty Sinner!" came.

 🚸👧🏻 Your lungs were still burning. Sakura and Shinji were holding to you for dear life. All of you were chased away from Mondstadt. But, you were sure, that the people of Mondstadt weren't satisfied with simply chasing you away. No. The anger in their eyes. They wanted blood. Your blood.

 It was a miracle, that you survived. And the miracle had a name.

 Klee managed to hide you all away and get you to the Dragonspine. Right now, you, Oda's kids and Aya were resting in Albedo's lab.

While Klee tried to cheered kids even for a bit, you were talking with Albedo.

🚸👧🏻 The situation were terrible. You and kids are now wanted criminals, you can't trust anyone from Teyvat. Your only chance to get home - meet with Alice. The bad news is that she is forced to travel from nation to nation, not staying on one place for too long. There would be a big chance, that you would miss her.

And you must protect six kids.

You stayed with Albedo for a week. You discussed everything you need to know.

You decide to travel to Sumeru. If Albedo wasn't mistaken, Nahida would help you. Maybe, Irmensul have answers and knowledge on how to get you all home. At least, you could hide you, until Alice arrived.

Albedo gave you clothes, backpacks, supplies, blankets and much more. Everything you need during your journeys. It won't be enough for the whole journey. But, at least for the next few days, you won't worry about food and water.

And he showed you something. Something, that took all members of Hexenzirkel to use their powers to get and stay safe. Something, they stole from "Creator". What was left of a previous person, who looked slightly similar to "Creator".

"I don't want to scare you, [Y/N]. I just want you to see, what would happen, if one day they caught you. Or you decide to go to them on your own free will." Albedo looked sad. He can't go with you. He must protect Sucrose and Klee.

You nodded solemnly. You will try to stay safe.

To keep others safe.

🚸👧🏻 During your journey, you were careful. Refusing to go near people. During your journey, you start stealing. You can't let kids become hungry. You did everything a teen can do to keep children safe. While situation never called for that (you always manage to ran away) you knew, that you will fight for their lives.

When people from other nations came to Sumeru, trying to find you, you and kids were hiding.

But you were fond.

According to Lore, Capitano was a noble warrior 

In Teyvat, only your hold was stopping him from striking Aya.

You were angry. You wanted to protest kids.

Your emotions reached their peak. 

What left of First Creator's powers obeyed your silent wish.

The portal opened under your feet.

______

🐾 In Real World, BSD Cast were restless. Six kids and one kid disappeared without a trace! There is no way for them to stay calm.

Especially for two of them.

🦇 Bram Stoker lost two kids.

🍛Oda Sakunosuke lost six kids.

🍛🦇 Oda and Bram are looking everywhere. Criminal underworld lost huge number of criminals because of that. Ida and Bram going after any possible suspect.

🍛🦇 And when, after weeks of being missing, you seven finally returned, and this giant warrior were trying to kill you, their anger gets out of control.

_______

👧🏻🚸🍛🦇 For the next few weeks, seven of you won't be left alone. Oda and Bram will constantly stay close to you.

👧🏻🚸🍛🦇 No one would ever hurt you. You will never be scared, cold or hungry again. You won't need to steal to get food for Aya and Oda's kids. You don't need to fight for their lives.

👧🏻🚸🍛🦇 Journey to Teyvat was stressful. Thankfully, it was over.

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters

[augustinapril]

Heyyy Spence

So I saw that you wanted some batfam requests (especially platonic ones) so I was wondering if I could ask for a batfam (you pick whatever characters you want to be added) x bat!sibling reader who’s getting a special award but doesn’t tell anyone about it? Not bc they don’t think the family will care, they just think that the rest of them are busy and don’t want to bother them. They somehow find out though and are all there so surprise the reader?

If not- that’s totally fine too!!

Take care <333

Spider || Batfam

Paring: Batfam & gn!reader

Sypnosis: You're Brooklyns resident Spider, or The Insect, as Heaven likes to call you. It's a job you've taken with honor, and you're being thanked for it by the city. What you didn't expect was to see your family in the crowd.

Warnings: kind of a spiderman x dc crossover? r is basically the spiderman of DC, talks of heights, violence and terribly written fight scenes, reader is threatened by a villian, swearing, mentions of food, its poorly written I'm sorry!!

wc: 3.2k || nav || m.list

a/n: shout out to @lu-vin-it for being a character in this fic! he also happens to write so you should definitely go check out their stuff (that's a threat not a request). thank you @lemkay-luminary for proofreading!! <3 reblogs > likes!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ´ˎ˗

Gotham City was constantly buzzing with life, along with death. It was a violent city, full of murderers, thieves, robbers, and villians drowning in a thirst for blood. More times than you could count, the city has stolen the life of people you've cared for. 

It held too many bad memories for you to stay. You loved the city, and it would always be your home, but you had a new home in Brooklyn, too.

Brooklyn gave you a breath of fresh air, here you could see the sun most days. It was calming, the warmth of it a comfort. You love it here and the people here love you in return.

"Spider!" A little girl from down below shouted, strawberry ice cream smeared across her face as she pointed up at you. "It's Spider!"

Her father gave her a light lecture on how it was rude to point when you attached yourself to the side of a building, offering the little girl a wave. She waved back, squealing in excitement at the fact that the Spider was waving at her. 

"Y/n, you know those guys we've been tracking for God knows how long?" Heaven's voice spoke through the comms, startling you.

"I don't, actually, I think they've managed to slip my mind." You retorted sarcastically as you jumped off and swung your way to a nearby rooftop.

"You were bitten by an insect, I can treat you like an insect." 

"Spiders aren't insects, they're—"

There was an annoyed huff that cut you off, it made you snicker. "Fuck you. I should make you do all this by yourself, but I don't. Be grateful. Anyways, so I've gotten a location on them, Visage is most definitely there."

"Where?" You asked quickly. Visage has been tormenting the city for a while now.

"Near Plymouth Church. They've been spotted in some run down building near it." 

"Thank you." You responded and the comms cut out.

That's when you jumped, arms behind you, the breeze pushed against your suit. It was exhilarating to fly through the air, being so high above everything else. 

Helping people in the way you do, swinging through the city and hearing people like that little girl call out to you was worth every risk the job came with. You'd put yourself on the line every time because you're here to protect them. 

Which brought you here, on top of some building across from an abandoned grocery store. Your eyes were glued to the doors, as you watched and waited for something to happen.

A man walked out, wearing protective green gear. It was Visage, you knew it was. There was no mistaking him and his rather ugly suit. 

"Visage, my man, what's up?" You jumped over to the power line nearby, standing on top of the wooden pole. His head snapped up to you, and the second it did, you webbed him. Jumping up you yanked him up with you. You grabbed ahold of his head and slammed it onto the pole. There was a crack in his helmet, him falling to the ground and letting out a pained groan.

"Fuck," You heard him hiss under his breath, struggling to pull himself off the ground. You didn't give him much of a chance before you leapt down in front of him, landing before swiping him off his feet.

"I'm gonna kill you," He raised his gauntleted hand and he fired at you from his spot on the ground.

It was one of his weird creations, Vistech as he liked to call it. It made you realize that villians are extremely uncreative when it comes to naming things.

"'I'm gonna kill you' blah blah blah, I've heard it all before. Your words mean nothing." You retorted, moving out of the way of whatever it was he shot at you. He had a nasty habit of creating new concoctions and testing them on you.

You were sure you probably seemed cocky, and the way he tensed made it evident he wasn't very appreciative of your attitude. "You're really annoying, you know that?"

After that he charged at you, gear adding power to his steps. Your senses spiked, making you leap out of his way. His gauntlet grabbed hold of your arm, as he throwed you towards a nearby wall. 

The impact knocked the wind out of your lungs, falling to the ground with a wheeze. You could hear his heavy boots hit the ground with each step he took towards you. You pushed yourself off the ground, then you lifted your hand and shot webbing at his face. His cries were muffled by the substance, his hand scratched to try and get the webs off. 

You fully pushed yourself off of the ground, wincing in pain. Much to your dismay, the second you were on your feet Visage had pulled off the webs. He ran towards you again and you were lucky to move out of the way on time.

You put your hand behind his head and slammed it full force into the wall, knocking him unconscious. You crouched down, inspecting Visage's guantlet, lifting the heavy metal. It was warm to the touch, most likely because of the weird substance in them.

You looked them over, searching for a way to remove them . It was more sophisticated than you originally thought, but you found it eventually. 

You knew Visage wasn't the highest of rank in whatever business he worked for, but he was high enough on there for you to get some information on the entire organization. 

You tied him up with your webbing, and when you heard police sirens you leapt up to the rooftop of the nearest building, Visage's guantlet in hand.

***

The fight had been all over the news.

Some people praised you for your efforts whilst others said you were nothing but a menace, but the mayor, much to your surprise, was extremely pleased with your work.

She made an announcement on television about wanting to thank you personally for everything you've done for Brooklyn.

Which led you here, stood near the entrance of the building the mayor did most of her work in. She looked elegant, black pencil skirt hugging her legs and waist, a matching jacket on top of a white dress shirt. She was so put together it made you nervous.

You didn't look put together. Not that you really could in your spidersuit but you still felt self-conscious. 

Yet she offered you a warm smile, holding her hand out towards you. "Spider! It's nice to meet you in person."

You smiled back, though she couldn't see it from underneath your mask. "It's nice to meet you too, Madame Mayor." Her hand was warm against the fabric of your suit.

"So you and I will just walk out that door," She began, pointing over towards the door. "And I'll greet the crowd, give a speech, and then I'll shake your hand once more. I'll warn you now, there will be a lot of people."

It was strange how you could fight dangerous people and yet the mention of a crowd made your heart rate pick up. 

You nodded, and she smiled again. Her heels clicked loudly against the white flooring of the office building, your steps quieter than hers. You made sure to wear your converse here. There had been many times you forgot to slip on your shoes before heading out of your bedroom window, your mind racing to find reported criminals.

The doors opened, sunlight shined through as you exited the brick building. There was an abundance of people in the crowd, the snapping of pictures and shouts of Spider filled the atmosphere. There were news reporters that surrounded the barricades of the stairs, keeping the rambunctious crowd from getting too close.

"Hello people of Brooklyn!" The Mayor waved, sun reflecting off of her white painted nails. The way she handled the crowd made you envious and it took everything in you not to teeter on your feet to calm the nerves. 

The crowd gave a series of shouts and greetings in reply, making the mayor laugh. She was good at this, but you suppose she had to be. That's when she introduced you, another wave of excited noise spilled from the ocean of people across from you.

"Hello." You replied as you waved and cringed at how awkward you probably sounded. Another group of greetings sounded around you.

People could be loud when they wanted to be, and that amplified in groups. You eyed them, and noticed the little girl from a few days ago again. She rested on top of her father's shoulders—her face was ice-creamless now—and her abundance of red waves was put into braids with ribbons tied at the end.

She made you smile from under your mask, as the beginning of the mayor's speech slipped past your ears. You moved your gaze from her, your eyes looked over the people and that's when you saw them. Your family in the very back.

Dick looked silly. The entirety of his outfit was just Spider merchandise and you were sure he seemed like an obnoxious fan to the rest of the crowd. Jason stood away from him, probably upset that he had to stand so close to Dick when he looked like that. He blended in more with the crowd, he wore simple attire that any normal person would wear in public. Not that he was normal, he just didn't like to stand out in such a way. 

Your father wore a suit. A very pristine suit, as usual, no one except reporters ever wore something so proper to an event like this. 

Steph had the biggest smile ever on her face, hair pulled back by a purple headband, dressed simply in a long skirt and a purple cardigan to cover it. Tim stood next to her, adorned in a sweater Bernard had given him and a pair of shorts. The both of them were on the opposite side of the crowd. Cass was not too far away. 

She had never enjoyed crowds, or people in general. You wouldn't have noticed her if not for your enhanced senses. She leaned against Bruce's car, the entirety of her black attire blended in with the car's paint. Damian was beside her, arms crossed. The warm weather had him in a simple pair of brown cargo shirts, his green t-shirt blended nicely with them.

Damian probably didn't want to come. Not that he didn't love you or anything, no he often talked about how you were the most tolerable out of the rest of his family, he just never saw the point in coming to something he could very easily watch on TV. You were going to make sure to thank him later.

You returned your attention back to the mayor. As she was nearing the end of her speech she turned to you. "—And I'd like to thank each and every one of you for coming here today. The Spider has done so much for our city this last year, and it seemed rude to not provide our hero a proper thank you."

Her hand reached toward you once again, but before she could grasp your hand an intense feeling of danger hit you. Your head snapped up, turning over and noticing a man—one of Visage's men it seemed from the apparel he wore—directing one of the  special guns directly at the mayor. You shielded her quickly, pulling her away just as he pulled the trigger. 

The crowd screamed at the sound, erupting in panic. You should've known this would have happened. Nothing is ever so easy.

 "Are you okay?" You asked the mayor, and she nodded, mumbling a thank you. You once her over just to make sure before jumping back into the crowd. It was almost as if the man multiplied in your short time of making sure the mayor was okay. 

"Can't you guys take days off or something?" You asked, annoyed when you webbed one of the weapons, yanking it out of his hands and sticking it up against the wall of a building. "Seriously, you guys are everywhere. I think you might need to bring this up with your boss."

One of them charged at you, which you swiftly moved out of the way but kept your foot in place, snickering when she tripped on the ground. 

You jumped, legs pushing you high enough to land on the top of a street lamp. You'd yanked one of the men up with you, slamming his head into the light before webbing him to it, leaving him dangling when you jumped down. 

"Do you ever shut up?" A woman shouted, irritated with you. She lunged at you, but hit the wall—hard enough as to where you could hear a loud groan.

"Only if you say please."

There was only one person left, he radiated irritation. It was easy to piss these people off. If it were a sport you'd have 1st place medals galore.

"And then there were two." You joked, watching as he pulled out a similar weapon to the first guys.

"Shut your fucking mouth!"

You scoffed, preparing yourself to attack him before you answered. "Do you people have no manners?"

It was a swift motion, webbing the weapon so he couldn't fire. He tried to rip off the webs before you got him in the face. His sounds of confusion were muffled, and you took this time to kick the legs out from under him, sticking his hand together 

Within minutes, you'd gotten all of them tied up. It was a swift battle—if you could even consider it one—and now you made your way back to the Mayor.

With a quick once over, you knew she was okay. Shaken up, but overall physically okay. You still asked to be sure. "Are you okay?"

She looked at you, offering a smile. "Yes, I'm okay thanks to you. Thank you again, Spider. For everything. I don't know where Brooklyn would be without you."

You couldn’t think of a response. Talking to people was hard, but talking to the Mayor was harder. Especially when she said something like that. “It’s no problem.” You said, though you questioned if it sounded awkward.

After assisting to make sure everyone was okay. You felt a small tug at the stretchy fabric of your suit. Your head drifting in the direction of the source, your heart warmed. It was the little girl from before. “Spider!”

You grinned underneath your mask, crouching down to see eye-to-eye with her, taking notice of the adorable crochet beanie in her head. “Hello. I really like your hat!”

She giggled, the brightest smile you’ve ever seen crossing her features. “It has you on it!”

"It does! Did someone make it for you?"

Her waves bounced around her head when she nodded, grabbing ahold of her father's hand and shaking it around. "My daddy made it for me! Isn't that right, daddy?"

He gave a proud grin, though it wasn't as bright as it would be if he didn't look so exhausted. "Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. I did make it."

"You should convince him to make me one," You joked, looking up at her father. "It's an awesome hat. I'm honored to have such a hat with me on it."

"She wouldn't stop pestering me until I finished," He replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. "She asked me everyday if her hat was done. She loves you."

You warmed and looked back at the child. "And her love will always be appreciated."

After a rather hard goodbye, he led her back towards their small car. It took a few hours, but eventually you were able to make your way back home for a quick meal. You had some spare time before you decided you were going to force yourself back out into the city, hoping to finally give yourself a chance to relax.

Though it seemed your plans had been foiled, the smell of Mac & Cheese filled your apartment, and the slight chatter of familiar voices bouncing off of the fake wooden walls.

"Alfred?" Your eyebrows rose when you saw the man that was basically your second father standing in front of your stove, a pot in front of him as he stirred a wooden spoon through the creamy noodles. "You're making Mac & Cheese?"

Alfred never enjoyed making Mac & Cheese like this, far more into homemade foods rather than the cheap store-bought boxes. He enjoyed putting care into his cooking, and boxed Mac & Cheese took that away. In his eyes, at least.

You set your stuff down, listening to Alfreds words even though he didn't look at you. "I would have made something else, but it seems this was all you had in your cupboard, L/n."

"Fair." You shrugged before you heard someone clearing his throat.

"No hello to your father?"

You looked at him and smiled. "Hello Father."

Jason snickered, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You sound like Damian." His feet on your table made you send him a light glare.

"Better him than you, Jay. And get your nasty ass feet off my table." You shoved his feet off of the fake wood, as you ignored the glare he sent you when you walked by, and ruffled Damian's hair. "How's the favorite brother?"

He huffed in annoyance and shoved your hand away, an incoherent grumble being your only response.

"Y/n!" Steph interrupted, a blur of purple passing your vision as he gave you a swift hug, arms wrapping tightly around you. "We missed you!"

"I missed you guys too." You grinned, brushing a few strands of blonde hair that fell out of her headband behind her ear after she pulled away. "Where's Cass and Dick?"

As if on queue, Dick walked through the door, his hand in the air as he answered. "We're here!" He had a flare for the dramatics, his high-school yearbooks and his years of theater could prove it. 

Cass' entrance was far more tame, as she carefully walked through as to not drop the big yellow box in her hands,closing the door with her foot. "We brought cake."

"Cake?" You weren't expecting cake, and especially not store bought cake. Alfred would be quivering in his boots if he didn't have to hide his irritation. 

"You didn't tell us about the Mayor." Damian interrupted, his arms crossed. Irritation was written all over his face—which seemed to mask his slight pain about the topic—and you were hit with a sudden pang of guilt.

"Sorry, Dami." You began, as you gave an apologetic smile. You looked at all of them, trying to explain yourself. "You guys are all so busy, I didn't wanna pull you away from your work."

The explanation seemed silly now that you said it out loud. It was a stupid reason, your family cared about you a lot and it probably seemed like a kick in the face. You continued, words spilling out of your mouth in an anxiety consumed guilt.

"It's not that I thought you guys wouldn't care or anything I just— I don't know, I didn't wanna pull you guys away from something more important."

"No work could ever come above you," Bruce spoke quickly, taking your hand within his. He squeezed it, as if it were to make his words stronger with meaning.

And in a way it did, it reminded you that your family may be busy, but you all would always put each other first.

˗ˏˋ ★ ´ˎ˗

sorry this was all over the place!! constructive criticism is always welcome!! please consider reblogging if you did enjoy it!!

[literallydavidblib]

I want to try and finish my next work, but Im feeling terrible almost every day. Im travelling soon as well which is a bit of a road blocker, but I'll make it! Im planning on posting my next sprite crossover on davids birthday. No promises!

Anyway, heres a doodle of Hu. Shes probably one of my favourite characters! I plan to make a more detailed artwork of Hu with her hair emulating a lake when I get better. I find her name really cool!

[rhosyn-du]

The Case of the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Dates, chapter 1

Dead Boy Detectives/The Sandman crossover | Jenny Green/Johanna Constantine | Explicit | WIP

Tags for this chapter: Case Fic, Strangers to Lovers, Casual Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Panic Attacks

Link on AO3

For the @sandman-rarepair-fest prompts Strangers to Lovers, AU/Crossover, and Femslash

Summary:

Jenny didn't leave her flat planning to have a semi-public anonymous hookup. She was supposed to be having drinks—and hopefully sex—with a woman she met through a dating app Crystal talked her into downloading—"I'm not saying you should go out looking for your soulmate; I'm just saying maybe you'd feel better if you got laid. Have you even relaxed for five minutes since you got off the plane?"—but Natalya hadn't shown up at the pub she suggested they meet at. But there there was a pretty brunette at the bar with a cocky smirk and a foul mouth who turned out to be every bit as hot as she was annoying and also extremely down for a quick fuck in the restroom and absolutely nothing more than that. Which is probably for the best, Jenny figures. Someone who isn't interested enough to take her home or even ask her name is far less likely to turn out to be a grifter or a control freak or a stalker with homicidal tendencies.

The last thing Jenny wants or needs is to get dragged into another one of the Dead Boy Detective Agency’s cases. Unfortunately, the universe has it out for her. At least the sex is good?

Public restrooms are nicer in London than in Port Townsend. Jenny's been told with a startling amount of vehemence by multiple people that they're nicer all over the UK than anywhere in the States, but she hasn't exactly done a personal survey of the country. Even with her limited experience of public restrooms—toilets, she thinks inanely; they're called toilets here—she can definitely say she's never been tempted to have sex in the toilet of a sketchy pub before.

"Your jeans are too damned tight," the woman whose name Jenny didn't bother asking complains between heated kisses.

"You seemed plenty happy with them when you were checking out my ass," Jenny points out, pausing in her quest to unfasten the truly stupid number of tiny buttons on the woman's shirt to help unfasten her own jeans.

Jenny didn't leave her flat planning to have a semi-public anonymous hookup. She was supposed to be having drinks—and hopefully sex—with a woman she met through a dating app Crystal talked her into downloading—"I'm not saying you should go out looking for your soulmate; I'm just saying maybe you'd feel better if you got laid. Have you even relaxed for five minutes since you got off the plane?"—but Natalya hadn't shown up at the pub she suggested they meet at. But there there was a pretty brunette at the bar with a cocky smirk and a foul mouth who turned out to be every bit as hot as she was annoying and also extremely down for a quick fuck in the restroom and absolutely nothing more than that. Which is probably for the best, Jenny figures. Someone who isn't interested enough to take her home or even ask her name is far less likely to turn out to be a grifter or a control freak or a stalker with homicidal tendencies.

And it's extremely unlikely Natalya would have been this talented with her fingers, holy fuck. Jenny makes a noise she's not at all proud of, head falling back against the wall of the toilet stall as the woman works her clit with deft fingers that don't seem at all hindered by the tightness of her jeans.

"Knew you'd be loud once I got you going," the woman says smugly, urging one of Jenny's legs up over her hip to give her better access.

Jenny wants to argue, but she's really not in any position for it, so she settles for unceremoniously pulling open the last of the buttons on the woman's shirt and finally getting her hands on her tits while doing her best to bite back the sounds she wants to be making.

The woman pushes into Jenny's touch with a pleased hum. "That wasn't a complaint, to be clear." She leans in, their difference in height being just enough to put her lips against Jenny's throat, over the racing beat of her pulse, as she says, "Let me hear you."

"Are you trying to get us kicked out?" Jenny asks even as she shifts her weight so that her own thigh is pressed firmly between the other woman's, and her thumbs brush over stiff nipples.

"Not gonna happen," the woman gasps, rolling her hips eagerly against Jenny's thigh. "The owner owes me."

Any attempt Jenny might have made to ask what exactly the owner owes is completely derailed by the woman sliding two of those clever fingers inside Jenny's cunt as she scrapes her teeth along Jenny's neck in sharp counterpoint. There's no hope of keeping quiet then, not with the woman's fingers inside her while her thumb works her clit, alternating sloppy kisses and sharp nips and sharper curses against Jenny's throat while she rides Jenny's thigh like it's her fucking job.

It's quick and it's frenzied and it's nothing at all like most of the sex Jenny has had in her life. It's also kind of amazing. She tilts her head down so she can capture that filthy mouth with her own, and then lets herself get lost in the slick slide of fingers and tongues, in the frantic rutting and the desperate, grasping pleasure that rises in her like a tidal wave: inevitable and devastating.

Jenny screams when she comes, not even caring anymore who might hear, especially with the woman gasping a litany of fuck, fuck, fuck as she works Jenny through the aftershocks, her own hips starting to stutter. Jenny has just enough piece of mind to grab the woman by the hips, pulling her tight against her thigh as she shudders through her own orgasm moments later.

They stay like that for a few moments as they catch their breath. Just as Jenny is starting to feel the faintest twinges of awkwardness—Do you kiss after a toilet stall hookup? Is that a thing? Should she say thank you? What's the etiquette here?—the woman pulls back with a soft laugh.

"Fuck, I needed that."

Jenny's agreement turns into a gasp as the woman pulls her fingers from Jenny's cunt, seeming to consider for half a second before popping them into her mouth and sucking them clean.

Jenny realizes she's staring and quickly looks away, busying herself with the process of refastening her jeans and making some vague attempt and straightening her clothes so she doesn't look quite so much like she just got extremely well-fucked by a complete stranger.

When she looks up again, the woman is fastening the last of the buttons on her shirt, looking far less flustered than Jenny feels.

"Right," Jenny says. "I'm gonna—" She gestures toward the exit. "Thanks," she adds, and then she leaves before she can find out if that was entirely the wrong thing to say.

She feels a brief moment of relief when she heads back out into the pub and the woman behind the bar doesn't give her a second glance—maybe she hadn't been quite so loud as she thought?—but then she sees how the three women at the table closest to the restroom are looking at her, and she ducks her head and hightails it out into the comforting blanket of fog that feels almost like home if she doesn't look or listen too closely.

She's halfway back to her flat before she realizes that she really does feel better, and much less tense than she has been since she arrived in London four months ago. Maybe even less tense than she's felt since before she watched the woman trying to kill her die a gruesome death in front of her and got possessed by a literal demon and watched her livelihood go up in flames and, oh yeah, started seeing ghosts.

Dammit.

Crystal is going to be so fucking smug when she finds out she was right.

~~~

"I take it the date went well?”

Briana is usually Jenny's favorite coworker, partly because she mixes a better drink than any other bartender Jenny's met, and partly because she doesn't usually ask about Jenny's personal life.

"It wasn't a date," Jenny says, reaching for her apron. "And anyway, she didn't show."

Briana studies her. "But you did have a good time last night." It's not a question.

"A better time than I'm having right now," Jenny tells her, pulling on her hair net.

Jenny is extremely grateful when Briana's questioning is interrupted by the arrival of their boss, who greets them with his ever-friendly smile.

"Ah, Jenny, do you have a minute before you start? I wanted to talk some scheduling with you."

"Sure thing," Jenny says, happily abandoning Briana and her prying in favor of following Rob back to the office.

When the insurance rep told Jenny exactly how long it was likely to take before she saw any money from the destruction of her butcher shop, she'd been livid. That lasted about an hour, until she realized she was in an unfamiliar city—an unfamiliar country—with no money to start fresh like she planned and exactly no experience working for anyone other than herself and before that her parents, at which point it turned to mild panic. When Edwin mentioned that the agency's landlord also owned a pub and had mentioned something about needing to hire new back of house staff, Jenny was extremely dubious. Not only was working a kitchen very different from running a butcher shop, but she was more than a little wary about working for the kind of guy who rented office space to a couple of teenage ghosts.

But Rob turned out to be a decent guy, and almost freakishly normal from everything Jenny's seen. He inherited the New Inn along with the building Charles and Edwin—and now Crystal—work out of and a few other properties from his favorite uncle, but that's the most remarkable thing about him other than the whole seeing and talking to ghosts thing, and she's hardly going to hold nearly drowning as a child against him. The man is a part-time history lecturer at City University and wears loafers, so Jenny figures he's pretty low on the list of people likely to drag her into more supernatural weirdness or attempted homicide, and he pays her better than she's probably worth given her lack of experience.

All in all, it's a pretty good deal, especially since Rob knows she'll be gone as soon as her insurance money comes through and she can find a decent shop space to rent.

Jenny stops dead in her tracks when she sees the two people already waiting in Rob's office.

"No," she says flatly, addressing the two ghosts—one leaning against the office wall and the other perched on the edge of Rob's desk—before turning on her boss. "What the hell, Rob? You said you wanted to talk about scheduling."

It's not that she has anything against Charles and Edwin, but Crystal's two ghost friends are private detectives who take jobs for other ghosts, and the fact that they're ambushing her at work suggests this isn't a social call. The last thing she wants is to get caught up in one of their cases. Again.

"This is about scheduling," Edwin says, "in part."

"We need an assist on our latest case and Robbie's got a friend with the right kind of skills," Charles adds.

"I figure it'll be safer for everyone involved if I make the introduction at the Inn." Rob's tone is apologetic. "You're the only one on staff unlikely to get freaked out if anyone gets shouty about things, so I was wondering if you'd mind closing up tonight so I can invite her over and make the introduction after close. I know you're only scheduled until ten, but I'm happy to pay you double for the extra hours."

"I don't mind closing," Jenny says, "but what's the catch?"

"No catch, I swear," Rob says, holding up his hands. "I wouldn't even ask, but I've got an early lecture tomorrow and would rather not be up prepping the kitchen by myself after I introduce the boys to my friend."

Despite the revelation that Rob apparently has a friend with skills to help Charles and Edwin on one of their cases, Jenny doesn't get the sense that he's trying to deceive her in any way.

She looks at Edwin. "You said 'in part.' So what's the catch."

"Ah," Edwin says, sliding off the desk. "It's not a catch, per se."

"Eds," Charles chides softly. "What he means is, we've got a message for you. From our client."

Jenny feels the bottom of her stomach drop out. "Your client?" she repeats. Their client can only mean another ghost. Someone who died.

"Natalya Mesi," Edwin says. "She wants you to know that she's very sorry for missing your appointment last night, but she was quite dead by then."

~~~

Rob is nice enough to give Jenny some privacy and a very stiff drink—on the house—after Charles and Edwin leave. She goes through the remainder of her shift in a daze, glad that the dinner rush doesn't prove to be too much for her distracted mind to handle and that Eoin doesn't comment on her much more frequent than usual minor fuckups. Jenny decides he's her new favorite coworker.

Crystal arrives just before closing, slipping back to the kitchen to give Jenny a quick, fierce hug.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, and Jenny knows she's apologizing as much for pushing Jenny to download the dating app in the first place as expressing condolences for the death of a non-quite-acquaintance.

"I didn't even know her," Jenny says when Crystal releases her. "Not really."

"I'm still sorry," Crystal insists. "You didn't want to be involved in any of our cases, and I got you involved, sort of, so I'm sorry."

"If I were that worried about it, I would have stayed in Port Townsend," Jenny points out, as if staying in Port Townsend with the memories of Niko and Maxine and her parents and her shop and every person and every dream she's ever lost wouldn't have been a complete nightmare. But. She didn't have to come to London.

Crystal squeezes her arms and offers her a weak smile. "I'm glad you're here."

It's a slow enough night that there are no stragglers by the time closing rolls around, and Eoin is out the door in time for Rob to lock up behind him. Rob says something about his friend running late, and Jenny tries to ignore the two living humans and two ghosts talking quietly at a table in the corner while she cleans the grill and wipes down the counters and refills the condiment bottles, but her eyes keep drifting over to the only people who know the answer to the question that's been plaguing her since that afternoon. The question she didn't have the courage to ask at the time.

She makes it halfway through refilling the salt shakers before stalking over to the table and demanding, "How did Natalya die?"

The four at the table look up at her and then exchange uneasy glances with each other.

"We aren't exactly sure about that yet," Charles says. "That's sort of what we're investigating."

"But you know something," Jenny presses. "That's why you're here to meet Rob's friend, right? Because you found something you need help with?"

"We could be wrong, though," Crystal says. "And it's not anything you need to worry about—"

"All signs point to demonic activity," Rob interrupts, and Jenny is grateful to him for saying it even as the room starts to go fuzzy around the edges.

"The woman I was supposed to meet for drinks was murdered by a demon?" Jenny hardly recognizes her own voice, high-pitched and squeaky as it is.

"We don't know that a demon did the actual killing," Edwin explains, "but we're fairly certain a demon was involved. Your friend is actually quite lucky. A demon could have done far worse than kill her."

"She wasn't my friend," Jenny says faintly, grabbing for a nearby chair to keep herself upright before her knees give out completely.

She misses, and only Rob's quick reflexes save her from falling on her ass.

"I got you," he says as he hoists her with surprising strength into the chair she'd failed to grab onto. "Just breathe. You're safe. No demons here, I promise."

Jenny does her best to follow his instruction to breathe, trying to force her lungs to expand and contract in some sort of regular rhythm. It's not the first panic attack she's had in the past six months. It's not the tenth. But every one is as awful as the last.

She has no idea how long she spends struggling to calm her heart, her lungs, her mind, only that she's only just managed to start feeling like an actual person again when she's startled by the sound of the bells over the tavern's entrance. Which makes no sense, because didn't Rob lock the door?

Dazedly, Jenny looks up only to find the very last person she's expecting to see. She blinks her eyes several times, but the image doesn't change.

"Damn exorcism ran long," the woman says, shrugging out of her pale coat.

This time, Jenny notes a little hysterically, the shirt underneath doesn't have any of those absurd tiny buttons.

"Demons are not terribly respectful of your time, are they?" Rob says wryly. "These are the tenants I was telling you about. Charles, Edwin, and Crystal of the Dead Boy Detective Agency. And this is Jenny, who's on staff here at the New Inn.

“Everyone, this is Johanna Constantine. If you've a demon problem, she's the best person I can think of to help you solve it."

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Marvel

Dumb, Dumber and Dumbass by tempestaurora

As Coach Wilson peered out the window in the living room, May said, very quietly, “You didn’t realise your brother worked at Peter’s school?”

“We all make mistakes!” Sam hissed.

Then Coach Wilson was leaning back and a figure in a hoodie and jeans stepped through the window and into the living room, and Peter’s heart sank into his stomach like a rock. Sam’s brother was, true to story, scarred from head to toe. He could see the puckered skin on his hands, the burns across his bald head. But that wasn’t the shocking part—the shocking part was that he’d already seen it before: he’d seen it when a certain vigilante’s suit had been destroyed three nights before, and Peter had walked with him back to his backpack to loan him some clothes.

“This is Wade,” Sam introduced.

Sam Wilson had two brothers: one was Peter’s gym teacher, and the other was fucking Deadpool.

OR: A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Family Dinner, during which Peter and May meet Sam's family. Meanwhile, Tony sends constant text updates about his search for whoever graffiti-ed Avengers Tower.

Death Before Inaction by hppjmxrgosg

"Fuck off, Nicky.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Hasn’t anyone ever told you spider-napping is illegal?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “You can’t hold me here, I know my spider-rights.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “God, you guys are so old. What are you? Like 27?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Scale of 1 to 10, how upset would you be if I told you I banged your mom?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Or, I got my grubby little hands on the spider-man time line and fucked around a little bit. Not much (everything) changes.

DC / Star Wars (Crossover)

Obi-Wan in Gotham by hoebiwan (+ podfic)

Obi-Wan falls through a hole in the universe and ends up in the Batcave.

Clone Wars

the war has just begun by unintentionalgenius

The first problem was that the Supreme Commander didn’t give them enough warning about what they were stumbling into, when they were ordered out into it. Someone above General Kenobi’s head sent the men planetside in standard-issue gear, without thermal clothing or heat packs or sleeping kit or enough food for more than a single day. They had no extra ammo, no tents, no heavy artillery. They had barely any warning.

The second problem was that Supreme Command underestimated the strength of the enemy; it was supposed to be an easy enough job, holding the planet long enough to route the Seppies and then right back to the ship, leaving a contingent of troopers stationed there to retain what they’d won.

The third problem - the real problem - came when they let themselves become surrounded and the Separatists cut their supply line. Cody’s partially at fault for that one; a better Commander would’ve seen it coming. A better Commander would’ve had more backup plans, been prepared for more contingencies.

Being cut off from re-supply would’ve been a problem before the snow started.

Then the snow started.

I've never made it with moderation by Trixree (+ podfic)

He’d known how some of the men are with younglings—known from Waxer and Boil how sharply those attachments can form with little ones. Hell, the men were raised to be protective, so much so that Obi-Wan has often wondered if their protective drive was not written into their very atoms, some intrinsic part of their DNA.

It wasn’t something Obi-Wan had ever questioned. He’d thought he had understood the scope of it. In reality, he hadn’t understood a thing.

Not until Kamino.

Or: Not all that dive from cliffs make a running head start. Sometimes, the Fall is only a natural progression.

Standards of Professionality by Trixree

"Are we going to pretend I didn’t just find you fucking your General, vod?” Rex hisses over private-comm.

Cody doesn’t even turn his head to look at him. Rex can hear the smile in Cody’s voice when he replies, “No, because I am not fucking my General, Rex’ika. I am fucking Obi-Wan. We are professionals.”

5 times Cody and Obi-Wan struggled to maintain plausible deniability regarding their affections for one another + 1 time they decidedly Did Not.

The Hunger Games

Lover & Loner by amateurwordbender

Haymitch once told him that he’s a survivor. It hadn’t been a compliment; he’d slurred out the words in pity after finding Finnick shaking apart from a panic attack.

Jo’s a survivor, too.

(Finnick and Johanna, from the moment they meet to the bitter end)

Original Works

for the want of a jewel by FormlessVoidbeast

With his country fallen to the unstoppable tide of the Dread Warlord, a terrified king sends a peace offering of his own flesh and blood in the hopes of buying leniency.

When Prince Damian of Miska is accepted as the symbol of his country's surrender and immediately wedded to the Warlord, he expects his fate to be both painful and humiliating, and his death inevitable. To his confusion, the Warlord and his terrible Warlock seem to have no interest in abusing that which they have claimed as their own. As Damian finds his feet and gains friends in a new land, he begins to question everything he once thought was true.

But some jewels were never meant to be sold, and the consequences of Damian's sacrifice are more far-reaching than anyone expected.

[aliferous-ly]

Sometimes Tango sees gold. He's deep in the Warden's den, so surely everything is soaked in blue and green.

Prussian blue. DePrussian blue. Like depression. Eh? Good one, right?

Tango sighs. The gold only flits in the corner of his vision and he's tired, he's endlessly tired but he can't leave until he's done. It's already been so long. He's stuck making shitty jokes to haunted faces that would sooner blastificate his face off than laugh.

But the gold. It's like stardust on his tongue. Memories of hellfire. Gorgeous gilded blackstone, the stuff from his days as a blazeling. No, more like dandelions, like sunbeams through forest branches.

Tango sticks his tongue out in concentration, hopping between crackling soulfires. Navigating his own maze requires skill! Skill that he doesn't always have, admittedly.

Releasing a quiet sigh of relief, Tango approaches an unfinished pillar. He twirls his pickaxe and gets to work. Shulker boxes surround him in short order.

So focused on his work, he misses the gold. He misses the yellow, the soft, the scorching, but it draws near all the same, getting closer and closer-

"Ah! Ow, ow, ow, ow," a voice yelps.

Tango screams, fumbling with his pickaxe and building blocks. Both fall to the ground as Tango whirls, nobody's supposed to be here, especially not-

"Jimmy?"

Jimmy sadly stomps his wing out. Black marks mar the feathers, ugly soot staining the gold. "Hi, Tango."

"What are you... How are you here? What are you doing here? You're - you're on Hermitcraft!" Tango gapes.

"Oh, um, crossover event?" Jimmy tries.

"I didn't think there was one of those right now," Tango says. He roots around in his many pockets, making a small happy noise when he finds his comm. He boots it up and peers at the list of people online.

Strangely, Jimmy's the only non-hermit. Tango scrolls through a few lines of Jimmy-Skizz banter, then sees Grian's message of a simple, "join vc".

"Grian got you on?" Tango says, still mystified.

"No, it was more of a group - Tango, quit distracting me! I trudged through all this - this hullabaloo to see you!" Jimmy punctuates this with hands placed determinedly on hips, expression set to a hopeful scowl.

Tango can't make heads or tails of it. It might have to do with the several shots of espresso coursing through his system. Or the lack of sleep. Or the concentration-fatigue, or the way his eyes have been going crossed when he peers at redstone wiring. Any number of reasons, really.

"...why?" Tango finally asks.

This stumps Jimmy. He blinks a few times and furrows his eyebrows. "Why? What d'you mean why? You're my rancher, that's why!"

Well, that's true. Tango nods. Then he paused, frowns, and shakes his head. "Wait, you can't be down here! Spoilers, Jimmy, spoilers!"

Jimmy snaps his fingers. "I'm not a hermit! And I'm certainly going to watch the videos when hermits release them. I won't spill!"

"I guess..."

"But anyway, let's get out of here. It's so stuffy and - fiery," Jimmy says. He flutters his burnt wing helpfully.

Tango wilts. His desire to see Jimmy and guilt at causing him harm wars with his ever-present need to keep working. "I'm busy, Jim. Gotta keep working. It's already been so long, the hermits are getting antsy..."

Jimmy invades his space and as the cavern trickles to silence, he wraps his arms and wings around him.

Tango's always been weak for him. He exhales. Any scrap of energy still clinging to his worn-out body vanishes, and he rocks further into Jimmy's hold.

To his credit, Jimmy just makes a small noise and adjusts so he can support his weight.

"Come on, then," Jimmy says softly. He runs his fingers through his hair. "Let's go take a rest, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay," Tango breathes. He closes his eyes and sinks into Jimmy's warmth. It's rather terrible of his fellow hermits, he thinks absentmindedly. Using his rancher for such nefarious means.

But now the glimpses of gold haunt him no longer. His precious yellow fills Tango's vision, covering him in head to toe with deep contentment.

His rancher. His rancher. Tango smiles, and everything glitters.

[suzukiblu]

So like I very much love DP x DC as a crossover, don't get me wrong, but it just about ALWAYS seems to be more DP x Batfam-slanted than anything else, or maaaaaybe DP x Justice League, and like . . . yes Jason alone is def enough reason to make it that way, obvi, because dead teenage vigilante and the whole Lazarus-pits-as-fucked-up-ectoplasm concept and just Gotham being Gotham, and alternately the whole "canonically would have to be capable of solo-ing the Justice League due to the existence of Dan's timeline" thing could probably be interesting to play with, but ALSO

ALSO

there are just SO many people who have died and come back in DC canon and/or could one way or another be liminal, if not outright halfas. Or could easily BECOME halfas, if that's your thing (if I am writing anything DP x DC and Jason Todd is NOT a halfa, whether he is on-screen or not, you may safely assume I have been kidnapped and replaced by a terribly misguided doppelganger).

Anyway long story short I wanna figure out an excuse to make Kon a halfa. He was dead for a THOUSAND YEARS, okay, there's OPTIONS there. Shit could happen!! Shit could absolutely happen!!!!

Also Dani is a thing, and really a half-Kryptonian halfa just sounds fucking TERRIFYING, and I want in on that shit. Oh, you get ghost powers on TOP of the Kryptonian powers, Kon? So like . . . do those just overlap or do they, uh . . . MULTIPLY?? Kon? Kon??

. . . Kon do you not KNOW if they multiply oh god.

Anyway I'm very tempted to go that way with the "Tucker is having a normal one" WIP, that's all I'm saying here. Tucker gets a mildly surprising bi awakening and Kon gets cool ghost powers that could canonically stomp the whole Justice League and surely this will all be very normal and fine and not involve the GIW or any weird internal crisises for anyone at all!

And I get to write Data EnKrypton, and therefore everyone wins. 💚

[winter-sol]

leviathan vs. leviathan?! (or an idiot's internal struggle)

word count: 2,4k

pairing: GN! reader / Leviathan

contents: ! nsfw minors DNI. pathetic and jealous levi, begging, praising. handjobs. a light crossover with what in hell is bad? featuring its Leviathan as a fictional character.

Leviathan, as the pathetic demon he is, gets terribly jealous over WHB!Leviathan while you play that game. You are willing to reassure him he's the only one for you.

also at ao3 here 🖤

There was a limit to how long he could endure watching you so engrossed in that damn game. The game with the fictional -and inferior- versions of themselves, the Seven Rulers of Hell. How could you be so interested in that when he is right there?!

He could guess that, in some way, it’s a compliment, considering it would mean your attraction to him transcends the limits of reality and made you want to install the game and meet that Leviathan.

…That Leviathan.

Blond, light-colored eyes, a sensual and mysterious gaze that leaves on their knees anyone who has the bliss to look at his graceful and erotic figure, wearing a tight and elegant black suit. He looks nothing like the disgusting and socially awkward otaku he is, the real one.

“Mmm… So, if I level this up I can get that skill… I see.”

While he observes you from the floor cushion, he thinks immediately you’re only pretending to be interested in the gameplay instead of the demons, his insecurity and envy overflowing and shamelessly escaping his control. He should pretend as well, pretend he’s fine with it. But in that moment, he simply doesn’t care.

“Ahhh, there it is! Hey, Levi, you wanna take a look?” You ask innocently, thinking that he also feels curiosity at it when in his insides he only wishes that shithole of a game never existed in the first place. Fuck them. Fuck that… sexy imposter, he bets he could never summon Lotan and destroy the entire Hell or Celestial or Human Realm.

“Nope, pass.” He says in an indifferent voice as he pretends to focus his attention in an allegedly more engaging game in his console. His pout still goes unnoticed by you, so you insist.

“You gotta be kidding, you really don’t wanna meet your alter ego? He even has completely voiced lines! His voice actor apparently has experience doing these kinds of things, hehe.” You say as you stare at your phone’s screen, with your arms propped on the edge of the bathtub, poking out slightly, while you await your demon’s answer.

“Nope, not interested. I’m grinding so leave me alone.”

His curt tone now actually grabs your attention back to him, and there’s no way you can ignore his expression. He’s literally huddled up in a ball, sulking and avoiding at all costs looking at your direction. You find it hard to contain your laughter in that moment, but making fun of him may not be the best decision. This is the Avatar of Envy.

Smiling to yourself, you get out of his bathtub and move closer to him, laying down behind him and draping your arm around his waist, pulling him into a hug. Without expecting the sudden physical contact, he makes a little jump at your action. “H-Hey! What are you doing?! Get out and stay over there with your little game, since he clearly is a better Leviathan than me, right?”

He must be joking… Is he really that obvious? Now you can’t hold back the laugh, but you do the effort to make it look like a silly, flirty giggle.

“Levi~ What are you saying? No matter what, I only want you,” you tell him in a sweet voice while you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder, his back still turned on you.

“Don’t lie. Deep down, you’d like me to be like that, don’t you?” A tinge of sarcasm is found at the end of that sentence, jealousy fueling his words as he keeps going. “He’s sexier, his voice is more attractive and deeper, and he looks absolutely dreamy. Aaand he totally must have a better body, obviously, ‘cuz he was created for that. Oh, and he doesn’t have this horrible tail I grow in my demon form. Does he even have demon traits or is he just a pretty boy with horns? Hmph.” He scoffs and continues, “And I bet he wouldn’t info dump you or make you all bored with my stupid animes all the time. And he doesn’t have a 2D waifu or husbando since that’s totally disgusting and unattractive, right? Also-.” You can’t help interrupting.

“What the fuck, Levi” You feel like cringing at his rant a little bit but now you’re entertained. “Have you really been staring at him that much? Wow, I mean, I thought you didn’t care about him at all.” You finish that sentence with another giggle, knowing you could be entering more dangerous territory with the teasing, but deciding to test your luck and see how he takes it.

“N-No!! Don’t be ridiculous! Aghh, you normie,” he says grumbling. Mmm… You figure you’ll have to convince him otherwise before he sinks in his bad mood even further.

You reach your hand to his chest, caressing lightly above the fabric of his hoodie, and you get your lips close to his ear. “You seriously believe those pixels are better than you? When you’re this amazing, Leviachan~” You purr his name while you press your fingers over his thick muscles, wanting to emphasize his body’s appeal. “No one makes me feel like you. No one ever will. You’re the only one for me.” You finish with a kiss directly on his neck, sensing how he shivers at the gesture.

“H-Hey! You’re trying to make fun of me?”, he says with a confrontational voice, but you know it won’t last long if you play your cards well.

“No, love. I mean it. You want me to prove it to you?”

You embrace him from the back with both of your arms, sneaking your hands below his clothes. You rub your palms over the hot skin of his torso, fondling him without any subtlety in your intentions, desire starting to flow through you while you cover him with pecks on his nape, his neck, and his shoulder.

“Ngh!” Leviathan responds immediately at your ministrations, air escaping through heavy, ragged breaths while you delight with his reactions. His sensitivity is adorable.

One of your hands travels to his v line, sensing the hard muscle there in direction to his crotch. Expectant, you follow the trail and slide your hand under the hem of his sweatpants that are already flaunting his quickly growing hardness through the fabric. An exciting sight, indeed, that you only want to put your hands onto. And as much as he tries to play difficult to get, he’s easy when you know what to say, where to touch, how to fire his own want too.

You decide to continue with the sweet nothings. “How am I supposed to look elsewhere, hmm? Please tell me because I couldn’t if I tried.” Your hand palms his length through his underwear as he gasps, trying to fight his urges and wanting to prove you wrong even though it’s almost impossible for him now, not when he can feel your touch so vividly, so irresistible.

“A-Ah…” A moan comes out finally as you reach under the fabric and fully grab his erection, your own composure faltering at the sensation of his scorching skin of his long, thick cock.

“Levi.” You say in a low voice while you circle your hand around it, gripping it greedily and dragging it down in a slow, tormenting movement. Your voice is almost a whisper, deviously teasing him “I bet you’re bigger than him”. He shivers at the touch, gasping as your grip goes down, then up, torturing him in a delicious, slow pace. You always enjoy taking your time when it comes to feeling all of him, as much as you can. No one else can have the honor of touching the Third Ruler of Hell like this.

As if awakening something feral in him, a growl comes out while you keep working him with your hand, desire pooling in you as you feel his frame stiff. Before you can continue, he grabs your wrist and turns his head to your direction.

“Prove it”, his voice is hoarse while he looks at you from above with serious, lust-filled gaze that fails at hiding his true desperation. The sunset in his eyes almost nonexistent as black engulf his aching stare. “Show me I’m the only one you need.” You notice him gulping, and conveying his own longing, he gives up his dignity in a low, weak voice “...Please.”

You smile viciously at the display, grabbing firmly the base of his cock and pulling a grunt out of him.

“Of course, love. You’re the only demon for me, Leviathan.”

You kiss under his jaw, licking that sensitive spot for him while you start a quicker pace. A sweet groan echoes through the spacious room, and his body tenses as your grip twists, giving a circular motion that only makes him fall deeper into delirium, a touch so delicious he melts into it, resting his body against yours while his legs spread giving you more access to anywhere you want.

“That’s it, sweetheart, you like this, don’t you?” Your sultry voice makes him shudder, completely surrendering himself to you. In this moment, he couldn’t care less about the other Leviathan, fuck him, he doesn’t even exist but he does, he does and he’s right here for you to take as you please. 

“MC…! Yes, yes, I like it, please,” he cries out, feeling his toes curling at the buzzing ecstasy that fills him violently, your other hand rubbing his nipples under the hoodie, pinching one and gently fondling it after, turning him into a bigger, hungry mess.

He suddenly wonders if you’re even comfortable, his weight resting more on you as he squirms, but any thought dies when your thumb rubs the slit of his dick, eyes watering at the pleasure that defies his own self-control. “Fuck, MC, ahh!!” he whines while precum comes out, making your movements smoother as the strokes only grow harder and faster.

You are delighted by his sounds, possessiveness and power clouding your mind with the desire of him to beg you more, to beg for you to own him and show him he’s the only one. He still gets like that, insecure and jealous over the most stupid things, but you’re ok with it. You’ll reassure him as much as he needs. If that’s the kind of partner he needs, you’ll gladly be that.

“C’mon, baby, tell me, what do you want from me?” You sound playful and delirious yourself, marking your words nibbling his neck again afterwards, starting to abuse the red skin in there. He cries at the bite, closing his moist eyes and his hips moving with increasing frenzy.

“MC… Please, keep saying it… Say you love, say you need me, ah! As much as I need you… please…”

There it is. More begging. It sends electricity through your own body, and you let him fuck your hand as he cries out. You’re as desperate for him as he is for you, and you can only obey him.

“I love you, Levi.” A hungry adoration can be heard in your words, your whisper loud enough for his ears only. You bite his shoulder while he erratically rocks his hips into your hand, searching his own selfish pleasure and bringing himself at the edge of his release. “Come for me, love. You’re mine, mine, mine… I need you, only you.”

Those final words are too much for him, a loud moan resonating as he spills his orgasm on your hand, flows of cum leaking and making the last drags thicker and strained, as he finally collapses. His mind is still on the clouds, vision white as he slowly starts regaining his consciousness. His body starts relaxing, still in your tight embrace, and his breathing is gradually becoming steady once again.

You kiss his jaw, his lobe, and his cheek while you wait for him to recover his senses, soft pecks tenderly awakening him from his intense climax.

“…MC… You’re amazing… hehe.” The light chuckle that decorates his voice at the end makes you smile at his sincerity.

“You are amazing. Now give me a kiss, love.”

He shifts and gets on his side, finally facing you properly. He complies and kisses you gently, a wave of affection and unreleased want filling you as his soft, moist lips presses against yours. You smile into it, letting it grow more passionate in an intimate moment of calm and blissfully quietness. The movements of your mouths are languid, lazy, as you enjoy tasting each other.

After a while, you both part and regain your breathing. The tension between your legs is starting to rise as your own hunger remains unattended. You decided to tease him some more in order to get what you want from him.

“Levi… I need you…” You lock your eyes on his, eager arousal filling your thoughts of getting to claim him one more time.

He widens his eyes as he gets the meaning of your words, smiling and pecking your lips once again. “Yeah… Let me do it for you.”

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

As you two hide under the cozy blanket, he admires the way the voice actor seems to be giving his all in the porn scene of the game happening in that instant. “Wow… this is hot, I give them that.”

You enjoy how he’s finally open to try the game and share this… unique situation with you. You chuckle, “I told you, you wouldn’t hate it. Besides, take it as a compliment, you’re so cool you inspired this little guy to exist!” You scratch the imposter demon through the screen, red lines appearing on his skin as the sound of a breathy moan comes out. “Look, he’s into pain like you sometimes.”

He gives an exaggerated noise as a complain. “H-Hey! That’s… Wait, how would they even know?! It’s just a coincidence… Right?” You laugh at how he ends up admitting it.

“Yeah, but an incredible one.” You say as blond Leviathan whines while you keep stimulating him. You try to give your Levi the phone. “Here, do something to him too.”

He looks at it for a moment, contemplating his options. “Mmm, I don’t know. Wouldn’t that count as some type of masturbation?”

You burst out laughing at that.

“Hahahaha! Holy shit. Maybe? I don’t know, you aren’t him, so...”

“Yeah, I don’t know, it’s kinda weird? Doing these things to this 2D version of myself?”

“…You’re really saying that as if you haven’t jacked off to multiple hentai games before. The audacity of this pervert.”

He looks at you with a horrified expression. “Shut up!! That’s totally different! It has nothing to do with myself! It’s with other characters.”

He really has no shame anymore.