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#when i finally start playing my lil project
pinkanonwrites · 6 months
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Repaying The Favor
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G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 4600+ words NSFW, Valveplug, Miscommunication, First Time, Oral Sex, AFAB Reader - They/Them Pronouns for reader
The sequel to "Oh! That's What That Does?!" is finally here! Same reader, same Rumble, same trying to figure each other out, only this time they get to slam down crazy-style about it. When will Frenzy get his turn in the spotlight? Eventually, I think! Maybe once I've finished a few other pet projects.
NSFW WRITING BELOW THE CUT!
It had been exactly fifteen days since you had last heard from Rumble. 
Not that you’d been counting.
Sure, the cassettes probably had more important things to do than lounge around your workshop waiting for your attention, but that's exactly why it was so odd. They always had better things to do, things that they were pointedly avoiding doing by barging in on your work and taking up what little free space the shop had remaining. But since your little tryst with Rumble, you hadn't seen armor nor optic of any of the usual cassette bot suspects.
Maybe you'd broken some sort of ancient, space robot taboo that you'd never heard of. Or maybe Rumble was just embarrassed that he jizzed all over your jumpsuit. Either way, it wasn't like you had any way of getting ahold of them besides them dropping in, so there wasn't much to be done about the situation but wait.
You were leaving the corner store when you heard it, the cacophonous boom of a jet flying far too close to the tips of the skyscrapers overhead. The sound sent you reeling, bags crumpling to the sidewalk as you hurried to cover your ears. Down the street you could make out the screech of metal smacking against metal, see the flailing limbs of two massive robots staggering clumsily through the street as they traded blows with each other. Neither of them were one you recognized, the red Autobot with the oversized chest window wrestling one of the identical jet Decepticons into a clumsy headlock. As they stumbled about one of them trampled on a car parked along the curb, and you winced as the metal shrieked and crumpled under his massive foot.
Yeah, time to get out of here. You gathered up your bags and ducked into the alley between the buildings, slipping past trash bags and old graffiti, trying not to tread in any unidentifiable puddles. Off in the distance you could hear an emergency siren start to wail, hopefully signaling that whatever the space robots were quarreling over this time would be settled sooner rather than later. All you really wanted was to get back home without any further interruptions.
But as you emerged from the back alley entrance and found yourself hoisted into the air by two massive metal hands around your waist, you'd decided to kiss that chance goodbye. Your bags clattered to the ground once more, bread and fruit and canned goods spilling out around a familiar pair of pedes. When you glanced up to his faceplate, the glow of his visor was nearly enough to blind you.
“Rumble?!”
His visor dimmed enough that you could see his intake, which had just before been pulled into a maniacal grin, drop open in visible shock. Then, as quick as it came, it was gone, replaced instead with a tight, furrowed frown. 
“What’re you doin’ out here?” He barked.
“Buying food. Or trying to, at least.” You glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Ravage pounce on that yellow Autobot with the horns that was always showing up in the news. “You guys having a little play date or something?”
He scoffed out a laugh, quickly stifling it with a clearing of his vents. “Whatsit matter to ya? Didn't think you cared dat much about lil’ old me.”
“Rumble, what…?” Was he seriously pouting? Or maybe trying to guilt trip you? For what, making him cum? “What are you even talking about? I haven't seen you in like, two weeks.”
“Aww, real funny! You know what I mean! I let you poke around in my chassis and run up my charge, an’ after that it's radio silence? Whaddya humans call it… ghosting? Make a mech feel like second-rate shareware, why don't ya?”
You blinked at him once, twice, mind spinning as you tried to process his words.
“Are you- are you mad I didn't call you?”
His optic lights beamed as he bristled, armor flaring with a hiss before clamping tight back to his frame. “I told you to comm me!”
“Rumble, I don't have your number! I couldn't call you even if I wanted to!”
His grip went slightly slack as he stared at you, leaving you dangling from your armpits like a cat. 
“I… I hailed you my frequency. In da EM field.”
“Humans don't have… whatever that is. Do you have a phone number?”
He stared at you again, much longer this time as the discordant crashing of giant metal men continued in the background. Then, with a sudden jolt, you were slipping free of his fingers as he dropped you unceremoniously to the pavement. It wasn't a far fall, just enough to make your feet tingle upon landing. When you looked up you saw he had both servos covering his faceplate, a string of muffled curses eking out between the digits.
Your mind was reeling. He actually wanted you to call him? To… repay the favor? Heat pooled in the pit if your stomach as your mind conjured up wicked memories of his stifled gasps and whimpers, how he’d squirmed beneath you as you prodded around his spark chamber. How behind all the billowing and smashing and Brooklyn-accented bravado, when you got down to the core of him, he was actually kind of… cute.
“You- just- I don’t- Get outta here! Go on, scram! Before you get stomped on or somethin’!” His face plate was flushed and glowing as he shooed at you. You would go, that was certain, you really didn't want to get stepped on after all. But first you were going to say something potentially risky, deeply embarrassing, and undoubtedly very, very stupid.
“Come over.”
His optics shuttered, flickering for a moment as he stared down at you, frozen.
“What?”
“Not right now. Tonight. When you guys are done getting wailed on? Come over.”
He opened his intake, then closed it. When he opened it a second time you caught a wisp of steam slipping through the gap in his dentae. He swallowed, hard. He never stopped staring at you.
“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Awright. I'll be there.”
“Cool. Watch out for the yellow guy.”
“Huh-HGGRRK!?!” You stumbled back a few steps just in time for the Autobot to chuck Ravage directly into Rumble’s helm, sending him crashing into the brick wall beside you.
“Sorry! Are you alright?” The little Autobot called. “You should probably get out of here!”
He didn't have to tell you twice.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The news was just wrapping up their coverage on the ‘latest Decepticon assault’ when you heard a rap on your warehouse’s roll-up door. There wasn't much to see peering out the window, the street only haphazardly illuminated by old street lights. Not that you really needed to look, there was only one guest you were expecting at this time of night anyway. 
You'd stopped at home first, mainly to take a shower and put on something that wasn’t a pair of mechanic’s overalls. But for some reason the nerves hadn't hit you until right now. You clamped down on the prickle of… anxiety? Excitement? Somewhere between the two? As you pulled the strap at the base of the roll-up, the groan of shifting metal slowly gave way to reveal…
“Are you wearing a bowtie?”
“Not bad, eh? Don't say I never cleaned up or nothin’. Here.” As Rumble stepped from the dark street into the light of the warehouse he pulled something from his subspace: a large, green bottle that he offered to you pinched between two fingers. A bottle of wine. Judging by the label, an expensive bottle of wine.
“Where did you get this?” You turned the bottle over twice in your grip, scanning the details on the back. French Merlot, aged… fifteen years? Holy shit.
“Dat fancy Italian place on the corner of Fourth and Vine! What, ya don't like it?”
“I didn't say that!” Rumble positively beamed as you clutched the bottle. “I just didn't expect it, is all. Are you… wining and dining me right now?”
“Is dat a good thing or a bad thing? Your human movies said you’re ‘sposed to bring a little somethin’ somethin’ before, y’know,” There was a sly, lopsided charm to his grin as he pulled the roll-up back down with his pede, clanking shut behind him, “Before you let me run your charge for a change.”
“You know, you don't have to try so hard to im…press… me.” You trailed off, staring down at the bottle in your hands, then back up to him, then back at the bottle, then him again. When you made eye contact with him the slyness seemed to falter a bit, leaving behind something softer in his smile. Something a little more vulnerable.
 How did it take this long for it to click for you? He was wearing a bowtie, for Christ’s sake. 
“Oh my God you're trying to impress me.”
“Eh?” A fidgeting servo tugged at his bowtie- which appeared to be made of… an old seatbelt? “Nah, you're crazy! Dis is jus’ what humans are ‘sposed to do!”
“Oh my God you are!”
“H-Hey, what'd I say about you and gettin’ big ideas?” He tried to deter you, but your mind was already racing a mile a minute. 
“Do you actually like me? Like, want to date me? Do alien robots even date, cause I didn't know th- MMPH!”
With a massive metal palm pressed to your chest, Rumble pushed you back into your adjustable work table, still sitting at a mostly upright angle from the last time you'd repaired him. The table against your back was cold, a sharp contrast to the radiating heat from his servo as he pinned you in place with his hand. His face was inches from yours as he leaned over you, visor now gleaming with frustration and embarrassment.
“You can't get enough of dis, huh? Like pushin’ my buttons so much?” His servo pinned you down just a touch harder, forcing the air from your lungs in a breathy wheeze. “‘Oh, it's so fun to get Rumble all flustered! Lemme mess wit’ his head a lil more!’ Well maybe it’s Ol’ Rumble’s turn to do da messin’ around, huh? See how you like it when someone’s toyin’ with your sensitive bits.”
He bared his dentae as he spoke, another hiss of steam curling around your cheeks. It made your hair stand on end. A hot thrill ran through you, and you fought the urge to let your knees knock together, confident that Rumble would be able to keep you in place with brute strength alone. You could feel his thumb smoothing back and forth across your shirt, and as he glanced down at his servo the glare of his visor lessened slightly.
“...Why’s your fuel pump goin’ all crazy? You scared or somethin’?”
You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, willing your foggy mind to function. “Not… Not scared, exactly.”
There were a few seconds of tense silence, before the wickedest, prideful grin crept back up across his faceplate. 
“Oh? Is dat so?” His other servo rose to grip the top edge of the table, fingers molding to fit the dent he’d left there previously as he loomed over you. “Well maybe we oughta do somethin’ about tha- SCRAP!”
His flirtations were cut short by the sharp SNAP of the stabilizing lock on your workbench failing under Rumble’s weight and flipping 180 degrees over. The world pitched and spun as you tumbled backwards, yelping as the table flipped and deposited you upside-down on the floor, legs sticking akimbo in the air. From between your dangling feet you could see Rumble peering over you with his sly expression wiped off his visor by one of concern.
“Slag! I didn't crush your little pedes when you flipped, did I? Cause I don't no nothin’ about fixin’ up injured squishies.”
Miraculously, you had managed to make it through that ass-over-elbow fall without hitting your head on anything, or Rumble accidentally pinning your legs in place between his bulk and the table frame. “I’m alright! Just didn't expect it, I’m okay.”
“Dat’s good. Here lemme jus’-” You felt a servo close around each of your ankles. With an effortless tug Rumble dragged you back up, tabletop tipping with you as it clunked back into its standard, flat position. Of course, this now left you with your ass and legs dangling off the edge of the workbench, Rumble standing between them with a servo resting on each knee. “Better?”
You sucked in a breath, trying desperately not to look overeager. “Better.”
“Ah, slaggit all…” But instead of putting his servos back on you (where you most certainly wanted them) Rumble began to scratch at the back of his neck, failing to meet your gaze. “Guess I ain't really cut out for all this… whaddaya call it? ‘Winin’ and dinin’?’ Can't even get my servos on ya without fraggin’ it up.”
“Hey, I’m definitely not complaining.” You attempted a jokey tone, but it didn't seem to do much to dampen Rumble’s current self-deprecation. You let the playful edge fall away as you dropped into something a bit softer. “I mean it though. You don't have to try to impress me. I mean it's appreciated! But, y’know, I wouldn't have agreed to this if I wasn't already happy with the bot I was getting into it with.”
“Heh. Even if I end up crushin’ you a bit?”
“That's a risk I'm willing to take.”
He barked out another laugh, accompanied by a coil of thin steam hissing through his gap-dentae. “Well I guess I better make it worth da risk, shouldn't I?”
He snuck a servo under each of your knees, pushing them apart as he rocked his modesty panel against your clothed core. You stifled a gasp, the ridge of sturdy metal almost hot against you, even through layers of cotton and denim. The slow roll of his hips made your own stutter up off of the table, desperate for further friction.
“Cute. You like grindin’ on my panel? Should I make you bust jus’ like this?”
Despite the warm curl of arousal pooling in your stomach from the feeling, you knew this wouldn't be enough to get you off. Rumble seemed to know it too, letting out a low, pleased chuckle at your desperate expression.
“Jus’ yankin’ yer crankcase, sweetspark. I got somethin’ a lot more fun in mind for tonight anyway. Dat is, if you'll start gettin’ dese off.” He hooked a digit through your belt loop and gave them an experimental tug.
“Mmh, what, you don’t want to take them off yourself?” 
“Oh, I’ll gladly take ‘em off ya. Just figured you’d take care of dis part here…” His thick digits slid inward, ghosting over the button of your jeans. “So I don't gotta rip ‘em off ya instead.”
You weighed your options. On one hand, the image of Rumble tearing denim apart with his bare servos as if it was no more than wet tissue paper was far more appealing to you than you would have originally expected. On the other hand… well, they were new jeans.
“I got it.” You mumbled, quietly filing the image away in your brain for later use as you undid your button and zipper. “Careful with th- Oh!”
With a sharp yank, Rumble tugged your jeans and underwear off your legs and let them crumple onto the floor. Shoving himself into the space between your knees, you could only barely make out the top of his helm over the slope of your stomach as he knelt before you, spreading your folds with two digits and… staring.
You waited for a response, a quip, the slow drag of metal over your slick hole, but were instead greeted with silence. Something prickled in the pit of your stomach as you fought the urge to squirm. In the back of your mind you vaguely remembered that you hadn't really gotten to see what Rumble was packing, and only now were you grappling with the truth that you were trying to have sex with a truly alien being. Would your bodies even be compatible? Was he weirded out right now? You tried to pull your knees together, only to be stopped by a rough servo shoving them back open.
“...It's rude to stare.” You muttered.
“EY! I ain't starin’! I'm, uh, admirin’. Dat’s it.” There was a similar tightness to Rumble’s voice. You shuddered as a thumb stroked the crease of your thigh. “Soft… An’ it's supposed to be dat pink?”
“Y-Yeah… that's, mmh, normal.” You shuddered at a wave of steam curling over your sensitive heat as he spread you again, visor locked on your twitching entrance.
“Primus. And you're really gonna let me spike ya in this tiny little hole?” You could feel his thumb just brushing the rim and stifled a groan at the sudden, aching emptiness, the demand to be filled. “I don't wanna tear you in half or nothin’.”
“It’ll fit.” You whined, core tensing around nothing. “We’re, unh, we’re pretty flexible. C’mon, Rumble…” You forced your knees further apart, pushing your hips up into each of Rumble's far-too-light touches. His motor snarled in response, a massive hand gripping the inside of each of your thighs.
“Slag. You're really achin’ for it, aren’tcha?” His voice was lower than you'd ever heard it before, deep and resonant and primal. “But I ain't gonna give it to ya dat easy, doll. Gotta make sure you can take it first.” 
He raised his helm for just a moment, just enough for you to get a peek of his beaming visor and his wicked, gap-toothed grin between your legs. Then he descended, lathing his thick, hot glossa up the length of your cunt. You choked on a gasp, his servos the only thing keeping your hips from rabbiting up off the table. It was hot, his glossa thick and sturdy and drooling with oral lubricant, a thin layer of silicon over sturdier metal mesh dragging up through your folds.
“Easy, sweetspark…” You weren't the only one enjoying themselves. Rumble's low, rattling groan pulsed through your cunt. You swore you could just barely make out him groaning your name but it was lost, muffled as he pressed his faceplate further between your legs and his servos shivered where they gripped your thighs. He was messy and all too eager, arousal and oral lubricant spilling down his chin as his glossa stroked you; slow, deliberate drags up your folds until you were left dripping. At the apex he found your clit and took it between his dermas, a teasing hum rattling throughout his engine that had you gasping, thighs clenching around his thick helm. Your legs jerked as warmth bloomed outward from your core, hips writhing against the onslaught of pleasure. Dragging across his back your heel caught in a rounded divot, pulling a raggedy vent through Rumble’s dentae as his frame twitched.
“”Mmpfh!~ E-Ey, watch da spindle. It’s sensitive in dere…” He groaned, face still pressed into your cunt, servos only dragging your ass further off the table in his efforts to get somehow even closer to you. But instead you dug your heel in harder, pressing into the ridged divot and twisting your leg. The internal ring jerked with a sudden CLICK CLICK CLICK, each pop of noise making Rumble’s frame spasm like he'd just been electrocuted. “FRAG! Primus, that’s- ghh!~”
“Feel good?” You teased, breathless. His optics beamed back up at you, an oscillating, glistening red as you caught another peek of his gap-toothed grin from between your legs.
“So dat’s how you wanna play dis? Don't say I didn't warn ya, doll.” 
You barely had a chance to respond before the noise was punched out of your lungs in a sharp whine as Rumble shoved a thick, metal digit into your drooling cunt. Achingly hard, unrelenting, he flexed it against your rippling walls as his dermas nestled themselves snugly around your clit. The hum reverberating through his frame coursed through your body like a wave, hands scrabbling desperately at his helm as the twinge of pain at the sudden intrusion melted into thick, syrupy pleasure. 
“A-ah, fuck! Rumble, Rumble that's good, that's fucking good.~” Metal clanged as you lolled your head back against the table top, no longer able to keep it upright. Each drag of his digit, textured and ridged and unrelenting, sparked euphoria behind your eyelids. You felt every muscle in your body starting to prickle with pleasure, radiating outwards from your cunt and pooling in your head, your stomach, the tips of your toes…
You all but whined when he drew his digit away, dermas releasing your swollen clit with a slick pop. “C’mon! Rumble!”
“You want it dat bad, huh?” A shadow cast over your rumpled form as Rumble rose to his full height. From between your legs you could catch a glimpse of silver and blue panels fluttering and folding away, one of Rumble’s servos hiking the underside of your knee and the other stroking the gap between his thigh and pelvic armor as his spike rose to full attention. Christ, he was huge, the thick metal rod draped across your lower stomach as he rocked experimentally against you. Each thrust had the tip drooling a translucent, pinkish fluid you remembered scrubbing from the back of your jumpsuit, hot and vaguely smelling of well-oiled machinery and pooling across your bare stomach.
Rumble, for his part, seemed to be as entranced as you felt, visor vibrant and flickering as he stared down at the place his frame rubbed against your soft, supple body. A harsh ex-vent punctuated each roll of his hips, steam coiling around the corners of his slack, open intake as he pulled back, letting the tip of his spike slide wetly through your folds.
“Dat’s it, doll… You're gonna get exactly what you want. Gonna get you bouncin’ on dis spike, jus’ beggin’ for it…” His tone was low, entranced, just barely tinged with desperation. He dragged his tip through your folds again, and again, covering your cunt with his thick transfluid, making your breath hitch whenever he slid over your clit just right. You angled your hips up, guiding it right over your entrance, toes curling at the promise of pressure. 
But before you could utter his name again, or any other placation or demand, you felt the heavy press, the slow, aching slide as he entered you. It teetered just on the edge of pain, muscles twinging at your inner thighs as you forced your legs wider to accommodate his bulky armor. And his spike offered just as little give, covered with a thin layer of silicon like his glossa but still distinctly sturdy, inflexible metal. Your walls rippled helplessly around the intrusion, stretched to a delicious degree as he bullied his way inside you.
About halfway to being fully sheathed in your heat he paused, visor hazy and unfocused, intake still hanging open as he vented steam. A servo was resting on each of your hips, but while one stayed in place the other slid up, up, bunching your shirt around his digits and shoving it up above your chest. There his servo paused on your side, his massive thumb stroking back and forth over your nipple, quickly pebbling under the cool metal.
“Primus.” He breathed, distinctly softer than you ever remember hearing him before (and oh, if that didn't do just as much for your arousal as everything else). Finally, his hips began to move again, that intoxicating ache only beginning to border on near-unbearable when you could feel your ass and the backs of your thighs smushed against his pelvic armor. For another moment he paused, one servo cradling your hip and the other your chest.
Then he drew back, and thrust home.
The first thrust forced the air out of you in a desperate, sharp wheeze. This didn’t slow him, not in the slightest, digits sinking into the plush meat of your hip as he jackhammered into you. Each thrust had the entire table rattling, the sharp clang of metal against metal where his thighs hit the dented table’s edge. His quiet reverence had given way to an onslaught of erotic babble, visor locked on your face as it twisted and furrowed in pleasure.
“Takin’ it so fraggin well… You’re just made for takin’ my spike, aren’tcha?” He scooped his servo under your hip and lifted you further up, all but folding you in half as he loomed over you. His dermas brushed the curve of your jaw, just below your ear, and you could feel the heat of his ex-vent making your skin tingle. “You’ve jus’ been waitin’ for me to frag you stupid, plug up that achin’ valve til you can’t think of nothin’ else.”
“Mmmh…~ It’s so big.” You slurred, thighs slick with sweat and slipping on his plating as you struggled to lock your ankles in the small of his back. His frame shivered like an electric current ran through it, clutching you somehow even closer to his massive chassis.
“Nghh…~ Yeah? You love dis fat spike, don’tcha? Say it.”
“I love it!~”
“You want me to spill my load in this tight little valve, don’tcha?”
“Please!”
“Aghh, slag! Y-You’re gonna get it, sweetspark. You’re gonna take it all, j-just-mmfh!~” His vents were ragged and desperate, thrusts stuttering as he neared his release. You squealed as his thumb found your clit, rubbing the swollen bud in rough, tight circles. Euphoria was buzzing throughout your body, the ache of your lower back buried beneath the onslaught of pleasure and heat coiling in the pit of your stomach and blooming out through your limbs, legs shaking, hands trembling.
Sparks exploded behind your eyelids as your orgasm washed over you, hips jerking weakly against Rumble’s. There was no give to his spike at all, thick and steady and unyielding as your pussy squeezed and pulsed around it. You felt a flood of something molten spill into your core, filling you nearly to the point of aching as it spilled out around the tight ring of your hole around his base. Rumble’s frame stuttered, jittering, a harsh crackle of static and mechanical chatter pouring from his drooling intake where it was still buried in the crook of your neck. Finally, finally, his frame grew still. The only noise between the two of you were your shared, harsh breaths and the low churn of the occasional car driving past outside.
“Mmmmnnghh…” Rumble groaned, shifting his hips to pull his shrinking spike from your core as he rose unsteadily back to an upright position. You could feel transfluid dribbling from your hole as he tucked himself back away- thick, translucent globs spilling down the insides of your thighs and hitting the floor with a splatter. His engine gave a little, stuttering snarl despite himself as he dragged his digit tips through the shimmering line along one of your inner thighs. “I oughta take a picture of dis…”
“Don’t you dare.” You kicked weakly at his servo, legs now tingling with static as blood rushed back to them. He barked out a sharp laugh, effortlessly batting your foot aside. His servo rested atop your lower stomach and gave a teasing press, and you shivered as more globs of thick transfluid drooled from your cunt. “Jerk.”
“Eyy, you love it!”
“Unfortunately.” There was no real bite to your tone, you could tell by the way Rumble grinned. “Think you can give me a hand getting over to the bathroom before my knees give out?”
“Depends. Does dat count as you owin’ me a favor?”
682 notes · View notes
kissedcherries · 9 months
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Love From A Music Video | Charles Leclerc smau.
pairing: Charles Leclerc X Singer! fem ! reader.
face claim: Sabrina Carpenter.
based on this request: Hi, how are you? Sooo i was thinking maybe a smau where Charles is dating a singer and he's playing the guy who Milo was (in Sabrina carpenter's Feathers music video) and this breaks the internet even more and this leads to them dating ??? idk, just like a really wholesome one where she was his celebrity crush like Taylor and Travis's relationship. Sabrina carpenter as a face claim if this okay and thank you.
warnings: badly translated french!
yourusername
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liked by oliviarodrigo, charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 998,245 more.
yourusername very excited for y’all to see what I've been working on💋.
46,933 comments
user8 so nobody else see’s Charles in the likes?
user2 oh no, we see it. he tryna be slick.
user6 yall remember he said she was his celebrity crush?
user5 omg user6 , i forgot about that
Oliviarodrigo so exciteddddd
liked by yourusername
Yourbestiesusername soooo, who’s the dude?
yourusername you come into my comments just to start stuff 😐.
user9 wait… is that charles?
user3 you assume it’s Charles from a sliver of a shoulder?
user9 let me be delusional in peace.
charles_leclerc can’t wait to be able to listen!
yourusername i can’t wait for you to hear it:)
user16 charles…honey, what are you doing here?
user5 OMG IM SO EXCITED. WE’RE FINALLY GETTING NEW MUSIC
liked by yourusername
pierregasly liked by pierre gasly.
yourusername such an honor to have you like my post😁
user7 ooo pierre and y/n???
user10 can women and men not be friends ??
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, sza, and 1,679,234 more.
yourusername feather out now💋.
34,690 comments
charles_leclerc thanks for letting me be apart of such an amazing project ❤️.
yourusername thanks for being my boy toy in my music video ❤️.
carlossainz55 i would like you to know that Charles is giggling right now.
yourusername oh really?
landonorris he’s not lying. i just walked past Ferrari and heard him.
charles_leclerc HES LYING. HES A LIAR. HE LIES.
carlossainz55 i have proof. i can send it to you?
yourusername please do😂
charles_leclerc i feel betrayed.
user3 “Your signals are mixed, you act like a bitch You fit every stereotype, Send a pic.” your honor, i’m afraid she ate.
user6 okay now announce y’all are dating before i contact Ferrari strategist.
lewishamiliton song was amazing, yourusername 🩵.
yourusername thank you, lew lew🩵.
user9 y/n and lewis’s friendship is so 😻.
yourusername has posted on their story.
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replies:
user18 rue, when was this?
carlossainz55 this is no soft launch
user2 is that who i think it is??
yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, landonorris, carlossainz55, and 1,987,345 others
yourusername is this how this hard launch thing works?
24,578 comments
charles_leclerc je t'aime tellement, ma chérie ❤️.
yourusername i love you too, my lil vroom vroom guy ❤️.
yourbestfriend bitch be romantic for once.
yourusername that was romantic wym?
user13 did i expect it? no. do i love it? yes.
liked by charles_leclerc and yourusername.
landonorris my parents🥹 (y/n pls say yes. charles said no.)
yourusername you said no to our son? charles_leclerc?
charles_leclerc but y/n
yourusername but nothing. he is our son, treat him as such.
landonorris 😁😁.
user8 y/n really said charles has no option but to adopt Lando 😂.
charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername, landonorris, and 1,976,455 more
charles_leclerc Je t'aime tellement, ma chérie ❤️.
26,357 comments
user9 damn. charles really pulled a hot ass girl.
user8 right, i thought his ass was awkward
user18 bro pulled his celebrity crush
yourusername Je t'aime tellement plus, mon amour ❤️.
yourusername (i want everyone to know i google translated that. so if it’s wrong , not my fault.)
charles_leclerc it’s the thought that counts, chérie.
landonorris my parents🧡
charles_leclerc i still didn’t agree to that.
landonorris yourusername he’s being mean to me.
yourusername Charlie, what have i told you. Accept our child.
carlossainz55 yk sometimes i worry about you y/n
yourusername it’s okay, Charles does too:)
lewishamilton congrats you two🩵.
liked by charles_leclerc and yourusername
yourusername thanks lew lew🩵.
arthur_leclerc congrats❤️
liked by charles_leclerc and yourusername
charles_leclerc thank you brother❤️.
the end
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p1utofairy · 11 months
Text
PAC🎱
“don't change i like the way you make me feel. can we take our time and do this for awhile?”
• what will their first impression be of you?
disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. it's been a minute y'all <3 i've been a bit busy but here's something new to show my appreciation for the constant love and support. ILY!
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PILE ONE.
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hello, pile 1. i don't know why i have the urge to start your reading off so professional but i feel like your energy reads “come correct or don’t come at all.” OOO okay i respect it! i’m already picking up that your person may feel like you’re out of their league…or their friends might tease them and say that you are. ballin’ by partynextdoor is playing, “i’m out of your league, baby. baby 'cause i’m ballin' for a minute.” i can see your person watching you from a distance, you’re surrounded by your friends laughing and talking, and their friend comes up next to them and says “[Y/N] is totally out of your league!” this may not even be a friend of theirs lol this could totally just be a hater being annoying but people definitely deem you as the perfect catch. your beauty is otherworldly i’m hearing, people constantly steal glances and are in complete awe of your beauty/the way you carry yourself. majority of you that chose this pile are deeply in tune with your feminine side and you like the finer things in life. “diamonds are a girl’s best friend!” is what i’m hearing — also 7 rings by ariana grande/my favorite things from the sound of the music. yeah y’all are it girls for sure! i think they’ll be a bit intimidated and nervous to approach you at first pile 1…they'll definitely be in their head a lot. their thoughts will be so all over the place like “WHAT IF [Y/N] doesn't like me?! or WHAT IF [Y/N] doesn't give me a chance!?" lol but once they finally do muster up the courage to approach you?! it's a wrap! i think that you'll like the way that they try to woo you, it'll be different from the way other people try to get your attention. however, i think that it will take them a while to actually make a move because they fear rejection. once they get out of their own head and take the leap, they'll realize that there was no need to stress in the first place because they peaked your interest all along. they definitely see you as high-value and very classy pile 1. they'll treat you with the utmost respect and go the extra mile to court you the way that you deserve to be. they will not take you for granted. not only do they think that you’re absolutely stunning, but they also admire how you have the brains and wit to match. i also think that visually you two will look very good together, it’s giving power couple vibes. when you pop out with them heads definitely will turn cause i think y’all both match each other’s fly very well — ugh yes!
other channeled messages:
could be younger than you, mama’s boy, dream girl, g.o.a.t by eric bellinger ft. aroc, lil boo thang by paul russell, air sign venus, you make me feel so young by frank sinatra
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PILE TWO.
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hi pile 222! i'm ngl i keep hearing that tiktok sound of that flo milli song that goes "he speedin’ the wraith while his hand on my coochie, he touchin’ emilio pucci." LOLOLOL maybe y'all like that song or you keep seeing tiktok edits with it playing? idk that was random but i feel like it's also your vibe? you have this sultry/seductress vibe but you have such a cute face i'm hearing, i think people may not expect this from you. i’m picking up that some people project onto you a lot and have this expectation/idea of how you should be/should act which is weird…people may have started rumors about you or said you had sex with someone that you didn't. ugh you definitely have undercover haters and i'm also picking up that some of you get sexualized a lot :( you feel misunderstood a lot of the time and people don't realize that there's more to you than what meets the surface. i think that your person may hear of the rumors but won't pay them much mind…they want to get to know you for themselves. they'll think that you're very ambitious, kind-hearted and smart! you have big dreams and they admire how motivated you are to achieve them — it's inspiring to them! you have a zest for life and you know how to turn a negative into a positive, so despite what anyone has to say about you…you'll always succeed and have the last laugh. ngl this turns your person on??!?!?! OMFG I'M CRYING. your person is also very dedicated and passionate so the fact that you match their energy will have them feeling some type of wayyyyy like they want you bad pile 2. they definitely see you as the ultimate trophy like they want nobody else but you, this isn't in a superficial way either…they just love how you never fold under pressure. they love that you can hold your own and you don't need anyone to validate you, including them. they never met someone like you before pile 2, they feel like you're a rare find. like you by bow wow ft. ciara is coming to mind. YEAHHH IT'S VERY MUCH THAT.
other channeled messages:
nyc, baby it's cold outside, agora hills by doja cat, smoking weed, retail job, scorpio, fire signs (esp leo & sag), milkshake by kelis
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PILE THREE.
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hey pile 3! right away i’m already feeling that your person will think that you're hard to catch or too hot to handle…something along those lines. they'll feel like you’re hard to obtain, you might be very private/incognito so they don't know how to reach you. incognito in the sense that you don't post a lot on social media or you don't go out to parties/clubs much, you’re like a mystery. you value your privacy and personal space a lot (and there's nothing wrong with that) but just know this might make it a bit difficult for your person to approach you. i think that you have very high standards and you will not settle for less or compromise any of your personal needs/desires for a situation you know is not worth your time. i don't know…i feel like you might curve this person initially — you may not feel like you're in the right headspace or are in the right capacity to handle a relationship with this person at the time that they reach out or approach you. for some that chose this pile, this could be an old-flame trying to spin the block again but i don't think you'll be very receptive to the idea of giving them another chance. this person is willing to wait and give you the space that you need until you figure out if you want something more with them or not. i think you're more so focused on healing your inner child and pouring love back into yourself pile 3 which is absolutely beautiful, keep going! it's all going to work out in your favor in the long run. a similar dynamic that i pick up between you and this person is elizabeth bennett and mr. darcy from ‘pride and prejudice’ for those of you that watched the movie, you know how it took a good amount of time before they finally got together — but that slow burn/build up between them was sooooo worth it. i think that once you feel ready, this relationship will bloom into something so beautiful, passionate and intricate — something only you two will ever understand but ultimately it's up to you pile 3!
other channeled messages:
u with me? by drake, yearning for your love, long distance, passive aggressive, i made some mistakes, back and forth text messages, mind games
593 notes · View notes
tainted-liquor · 11 months
Text
✮ 4th Baby Mama‧₊˚ ⋅ 「15.10.23」 ft. Earth42 Miles G. Morales
ingredients; Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles!
Listen, ik you said make it just one, but a part 2 is going to be made lol
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It was a warm day out in Brooklyn, New York. The air gently caressed and kissed your skin, leaving your blue plaid skirt flowing as you trekked through the messy streets of Brooklyn. You paid no attention to the gunshots, explosions, or any of the...cherry-wine tinted 'spills' coming from a random trash bag in the alley. You mumbled along to the music you had blasting through your blue metallic beats, putting a slight pep in your step as Summer Walker spoke to your soul.
"I wanna start wit' yo mama, she shoulda whooped yo ass..." you grunted, giggling to yourself before swinging open the massive oak doors to Brooklyn Visions Academy. You felt rather giddy about the day ahead, knowing that you would be getting robotic babies as part of your home economics class. The problem was that you didn't know who you would be partnered with. It was all shits and giggles, and you were pretty sure the task would be as easy as ever. No matter who you were partnered with! Right?
No.
You made your way to the locker, checking your lashes and light makeup in the small mirror you had placed in the top right corner before placing all your unnecessary materials inside the navy blue metal. You did a quick fluff of your slick low bun and threw on your clear-framed glasses. You opened up your spearmint mentos gum, popping two small pieces in your mouth before closing your locker and proceeding through the bustling halls to find your friends. You lowered your headphones down to your neck, pausing the music and locating your girls all crowded together in what sounded like frantic whispers and sharp giggles. Catching up to the rest of the group, you merged into their tight circle to see what was going on as they all looked down at each other's phones.
"Yooo, what's happening? What y'all lookin' at?" You inquired whilst pulling out your phone and opening your school email. You turned your head to face your friend, Tierra, watching as the cyber-blue hue illuminated her facial features as she stared down at her screen with a hand over her mouth. Layla spoke up, nudging you gently so you could see what she was talking about, "They picked the partners for the...the fuckin' baby project at random!" She giggled, tears pricking her waterline as she flipped her screen to show you what was on her phone. You scanned through the list, eyes widening when you came across your name right next to Miles'.
"WHAT!" You shouted, breaking out into laughter with the rest of the group. "They paired me with my fuckin' ex, at least you got that quiet kid!" Tierra grunted, whacking you on the shoulder with a rolled-up homework assignment. You nearly fell on the floor, gripping Katie's shoulder while she held up upright. The idea of raising a baby, real or not, with a stranger sounded hilarious. You weren't mad, but he wasn't exactly the partner you wanted. You originally hoped for one of your girlfriends, or maybe even a cute guy from the basketball team that you could yap about later. But alas, the forms were out and the choices were final, so there was nothing more that you could do.
You were familiar with Miles; saying hi to him now and again in the hallways and always getting the same upward nod in the process. He was known to be an adept artist who wasn't big on having a large circle of friends, but that didn't mean he was weird. You held your stomach as you wiped your tears, easing into the steady flow of conversation your friends began to hold before it was time for you to head to your advisory. You waved bye to your friends before heading to Mrs. Thomas’ classroom for said advisory, where she covered the school's upcoming events and big tests we needed to be ready for. You fiddled and played with a loose curl in your bun, pulling it down and watching as it sprang back up at an instantaneous rate. 
The room was dull and filled with nothing but sleep until the bell rang, signaling for everyone to file out to their next class. You hastily grabbed your things, panicking slightly at the fact that in the next 30 minutes, you would be classified as a ‘mother’. The classroom was warm and comfortable, allowing your nerves to relax slightly as you sat in your usual seat. It didn’t take long for more voices to pour in, loud gossip and strained laughter filling the room as everyone took their respective seats. ”Girl this class finna be the death of me…how we havin’ kids at 8:35 in the morning!” Your friend Jayda mumbled, finally sitting down next to you as your teacher prepared to start today’s lesson.
“Nah that’s what I’m saying…Like, tell me how I got-” you began, cutting yourself off as soon as Ms. Kaylee cleared her throat and stood up from her desk with a warm smile. She spoke, her voice cutting clearly through the silence that hung over the room like a mistletoe over a pair with chemistry as thick as butter, “Alright, everyone! I’m sure you saw the email about your partners for your week-long project, but in case you didn’t have time or missed a couple of lessons I’ll go over everything for a couple minutes before we get started with our gender reveal!” You tensed in your seat, looking over at Jayda with wide eyes and an upside-down smile. The classroom door came swinging open, revealing a Miles who had a tiny matte-black bandage right next to his lip. His uniform jacket was missing, his tie askew, and his sleeves were rolled up to his upper bicep, displaying a ton of tiny scratches and a small bruise above the curve of his elbow. 
The teacher glared at him for what felt like a minute, calmly pulling him to the side to discuss his entrance while you glared at him, too. But you weren’t staring because he was a disruption to the classroom. He looked delicious like this…when he was finally out of his usual blue school hoodie and grey slacks. You watched as he nodded at the teacher, towering over her 5’4 stature before you felt a light tap on your arm. 
“Ayo, stop drooling girl we see you” Jayda laughed, giving her a firm eye-roll as you watched Miles stroll back to his desk and sit down. Ms. Kaylee let go of a deep sigh, shaking her head before continuing with her speech. She gave a brief explanation of what it was that we’d be doing, what the final goal was, and how we would be graded on our project. She clapped her hands together, setting out a bunch of baby holders and car seats before rolling out a massive case labeled ‘RealCare’. “Alright! When I call you and your partner's name, please come up and grab one bath bomb and a pail of water”
The people around you made quick work of finding their partners and grabbing the necessary supplies between chortles and hushed conversation. Your chest felt heavy as you talked Jayda’s ear off, nearing the order of people that you last saw on the Google form she had emailed you earlier. You perked up as soon as you heard your name, turning around to see Ms. Kaylee check off two spaces on her clipboard before beckoning the both of you to come up and grab your things. You sighed, getting up from your desk and grabbing a plain white bath bomb and a small beach pale filled with lukewarm water while Miles grunted and grabbed a car seat, muscles tensing and flexing under the weight of the surprisingly heavy chunk of plastic. He turned over to look at you, nodding his head back to his desk as a signal for you to follow him while you waited for the teacher to finish reading out the pairs. 
“Wassup, Miles” you beamed, pulling up a chair in front of his desk so you could sit face-to-face with him while you placed the sunny yellow pale on the desk, holding the bath bomb as delicately as possible in your cupped hands. He nodded upward, setting the car seat on the floor next to him and cracking his knuckles. His skin was perfectly smooth, his braids laid neatly at the tip of his collarbones and he had a skinny but lean build on him. It wasn’t long after you took note of him avoiding your gaze that the teacher spoke up, instructing you to all drop your bath bombs in the pail of water and then rinse your hands at the sink. You squealed in anticipation, making sure that Miles was watching as you dropped the chalky white bath bomb into the sparkling clear water.
The bucket exploded with color, white foam suddenly turning into shades of bright pink and pastel fuchsia. You beamed from ear to ear, pure joy and excitement illuminating your face as you joined the rest of the class in their shouts of joy, exclaiming their ‘babies’ gender at the top of their lungs. Miles smiled slightly, nodding with a content expression before he leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. Shortly after everyone's joyful exclamation, the teacher wasted no time in collecting everyone's attention and going over the plan for the next week. “You will need to devise a custody plan with your partner, so this means exchange numbers or whatever you need to do now. You may now all come up and select your baby” Ms. Kaylee explained and gestured to the now-open box.
You went up with Miles, quickly scooping up a pretty baby doll with deep brown skin and curly brown hair. You analyzed her little face, taking in her deep black eyes and light pink headband that came with her matching pink onesie while Miles got your baby bag full of supplies and wristbands. Miles cleared his throat, holding up his phone before mumbling “Just send me what days you want me to get her and I’ll make it work.”
You nodded, putting your number in his contacts and vice versa. “Actually,” he stated, gently taking the baby from your arms and hoisting up the bright pink baby bag. “I got her until lunch today. I’ll come find you and we’ll work sum’ out,” he shrugged as you handed him back his phone.
“Oh aight, bet. What we naming her?” You asked, attempting to reach for the car seat, but being instantly denied by Miles. “Uhh…” he mumbled, visibly blanking at the idea of having to name his baby. “Uhh…Anylah?” He smirked, attempting to cover up the fact he just thought of a name on the spot. You looked him up and down, playing over how the name sounded in your mind before nodding slowly. Miles let go of a deep breath, posture relaxing only a fraction before he reached into the bag to put on both of your orange wristbands.
“Aight, I’ll catch you at lunch,” Miles stated, making his way out of the classroom with a heavy load of baby items and a fake baby. You made your way to your remaining 4 classes, internally groaning at how fast the time was passing by.
“She ain’t even tell us these fuckin babies cry…I didn’t know that shit made noise! It started going off in the library!” Your friend Jayda moaned, attempting to shush her fussy baby she named Mariah. “The fuck you mean you didn’t know they cried…it was literally in the paper she gave us about the babies?” You asked, looking at her like she had a second head. She shrugged, eyeing you with slightly widened eyes and a smirk to silently convey that she didn’t read the forms. “JAYDA!” You giggled, half-shoving her as you opened up the doors to the cafeteria. The line was nothing short of demonic, so you decided to hop a couple of places forward with your friends who had already made it to the cafeteria.
The food was mediocre, but at least it was edible. You sat with your girls for a good 5 minutes, enjoying your food and conversing with each other before you spotted Miles making his way over. He held the baby like a football, making space for himself at your table with a low “excuse me” in between you and Tierra. “Aight so my schedule is weird cuz I have work some days, but I’ll make it work what days should I get this thing?” He asked, his voice low and stoic as he began typing away in the notes app on his phone. You gave him a playful glare, attempting to push down the smirk that was forming on your face. “Don’t call her a thing, this is your daughter,” you joked with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “But you can take…Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday!” You exclaimed, taking the baby from Miles and checking your calendar. Great, Wednesday!
“My daughter huh? Aight, I gotchu,” he sniggered before tucking his phone in his back pocket. He tapped on the table, shooting you a wink you swear you hallucinated before retreating to his group of homies without another word. Your head dropped down to your fake baby, fighting back a smirk as you submerged yourself back in your conversation.
Whatever you thought this project was going to be, you certainly didn’t anticipate anything from the road ahead.
It was 1 AM, and your arms felt sore from the constant rocking of this baby that weighed nothing less than 7 pounds. You changed what felt like 4 diapers, fed her for almost 20 minutes, and spent your night pacing through your kitchen to calm her down. You whined along with the baby, praying to whoever was listening that she’d be finished soon. You grabbed your phone from your shorts pocket, quickly dialing up Miles as a last attempt. You felt like you were intruding on his private life, but something in this goddamn world has to give.
The phone rang twice, sighing to yourself when you heard the familiar ringtone come to an abrupt stop. There was rustling, what sounded like a low breathy grunt, before Miles picked up the phone. “Yo…what’s good, whatchu need?” he mumbled, his voice sounding sickeningly velvety as he attempted to shake the sleep from his vocal cords. “Uh, hey. Anylah won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do…Can you come help, please?” You winced, balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. He made a low noise that sounded like a cross of a low hum of approval, and a groan of missed sleep before he got up, stretched, threw on a quick hoodie, and knotted his sweats. “I’ll be over in like…a couple minutes” he grumbled, hanging up almost as soon as you could say “thanks.”
He knocked at your front door not even five minutes later, leaving you to drown in his shadow as he stood over you with a tired, blank, and semi-serious expression. The frosty air from the outdoors nipped at any inch of skin it could find purchase, leaving you to beckon him inside the door as quickly as possible. You handed him the crying infant, watching as his eyes widened by a fraction before returning to their initial low post. “Damn, not even a hello?” He chuckled as he took a wailing Anylah in his arms, rocking the baby at an oddly specific angle. “I know you didn’t just pull up to my crib talkin’ like someone's absent baby father…” you joked, rolling your eyes and taking your respective place back on the couch. 
“Hello, Morales.” You commented, leaning your head on his shoulder sleepily as he sat next to you on the couch. He nodded, somehow managing to hush the baby within the first 45 seconds of holding her. You huffed, feeling slightly irritated at how he managed to finish what you were attempting to do for over an hour in only a minute. “You were rocking her…too fast,” he slurred, clearly tired as he attempted to hold his eyes open. You didn’t even realize that you had fallen asleep, attempting to reach for the baby before ultimately clocking out for the night.
You woke up feeling groggy, sluggish, and plagued by a small migraine. Both Anylah and Miles were nowhere to be found, feeling around for your phone only to grab a purple sticky note stuck to the back of your phone case.
‘Went back home.’
You sighed, shooting Miles a text immediately that let him know to not disappear like that with the doll. You got ready for school, taking a scalding hot shower and repeating your daily routine of thoroughly scrubbing and exfoliating your face. You threw on your uniform, prioritizing the aesthetic of your uniform as you tugged on some rather cutesy slouch socks. You skipped breakfast at home, opting to grab something from the cafeteria before slipping out the front door and facing the cold air once again. Damn, this day was bound to be long as hell.
You reached school, giggling at your phone down the street as you ‘bickered’ back and forth with Miles.
‘alr alr mb. I didnt think it thru.’
‘Fym you didn’t think it through? I thought I was finna fail’
‘u actin like sb baby mama rn.’
‘Ntm now’
‘my fault’
You powered off your phone, jamming the smooth plastic case into the deep pockets of your black shorts under your school skirt. Today you had a class on burping babies and how to properly dress them for the winter, eagerly anticipating the cute little coats they’d provide for your shared babydoll. You took your seat, silently doodling in your notebook until you heard the familiar cold tone fade into the classroom. “Qué quieres decir? Esta mi mamá del bebé es ahí mismo,” he chuckled, carrying both the baby bag in one hand and Anylah in the other. “Baby mama is craaazy…” the boy he was talking to muttered, looking utterly tired and vaguely annoyed.
He took his seat next to you, giving you an upward nod as he cradled Anylah in one arm while he mindlessly scrolled through his phone with the other. 
“Not you calling me your baby mother…”
"It's funny"
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Tags ♡
@ashsostrangee @chessboxx @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x @we-loveebony @kae2kaee @dxrlingcc
591 notes · View notes
britcision · 2 months
Text
FRIENDS IT IS HERE. As promised even! We are technically just under 20k for this chapter, but still not small enough that cutting it in half has stopped it from brutally murdering the app, so…. We’ll see how this posts! 😅
I did myself a whole honkin’ reread on the whole thing too, refreshed my lil reminders of what I named things and all the lil threads I was playing with… and hot damn it’s a beast huh?
The good news is, although we are getting into plot, we are getting out of the heavy stuff, at least for the next little bit! Back to our silly happy fun times with the boys 🥰
And, y’know, dealing with Jason’s death and first transformation and all. Totally all fine! Nothing to worry about! 😇
Today’s chapter is a lil Bruce-heavy in this front half because the main thing stopping me was that I got most of the way through before I realized I needed to rewrite Jason’s entire first scene, but I’m a lot happier with it now 😁
First Chapter and AO3:
Previous Chapter:
——————————
The Finished Core part 1
When it finally happened, Jason’s core coming in was pretty anticlimactic. For all they’d worried it might trigger a transformation, rile up the pit, or even have a physical shockwave… the event itself was almost disappointing. Buried busily in some paperwork for the library, Jason himself hadn’t actually noticed.
He’d already started feeling what he thought might be his core over the past few days; like a vibrating ball of energy, usually in the middle of his chest (although it wandered in all directions). Which would make the knot of tension that sometimes sat in his gut and sometimes went as far up as his throat… probably Pitty.
Not fun having a distinct sensation that went along with everything else the Pit was. Did nothing at all to ease his worries about what the hell would happen when they were both actually completed.
But when the day finally came… yeah, nothing. The soft, warm glow in his chest when he thought about the project had grown steadily stronger over the week and a bit he’d known Danny at that point, so he hadn’t really paid enough attention to notice a change.
They’d still been seeing each other every day, although now that the new school semester had started up it had slowed down to a couple hours in the evening. Jason had dived headlong into his restoration project both on Frostbite’s advice, and to keep himself from counting the hours. Which, apparently, worked?
The biggest disruption was actually Danny blasting in through the wall not a minute later, invisible until he dived through one of Jason’s freshly legal goons and almost knocked the table over. Luckily there were no actual Red Hood links lying around - Catherine’s name was staying clean, which was for the best since Jason still hadn’t thought of a way to bring it up.
Even now, back from another appointment with Frostbite to confirm all was well, Jason didn’t actually feel any different? It was official though; both cores were complete, and now all they had to do was wait until the pit matured enough to actually leave Jason’s body and do its own thing.
Now that he didn’t have any choice but to confront it, he couldn’t have said what he’d expected anyway, but… well, surely there should have been something? More energy? More corruption? Hell, even increased ghost senses or some indication that the powers would be coming in.
According to Danny, intangibility usually came with the pit dropping out of your stomach and feeling floaty. Accidental floating came with a head rush or feeling like falling. Invisibility just fucking happened.
All he felt was weirdly normal? The fancy ecto ice was working, and his little ghost succulent - that or all the time with Danny; even Pitty’s flares of emotion were manageable. The green haze hadn’t come back since meeting Lady Gotham.
And okay, maybe he was pushing that by going right back to the manor the next day, but listen. Frostbite had reminded him to do calming tasks, since Pitty should start being more aware of their surroundings now.
Baking with Alfred was as calming and soothing as Jason could imagine, without stapling himself to Danny in classes. And sure, he’d helped with Danny’s homework the past couple nights, but the guy would get sick of him eventually. Faster if they stayed attached at the hip.
(And that had been another “fun” tidbit Frostbite had dropped on them; if they were actually making their own ghost baby, they’d have been able to trade the core off between them. Jason hadn’t thought anything could make that idea sound appealing, but if he coulda just stuffed Pitty into someone else… well, he probably wouldn’t actually wish its corruption and constant tantrums on anyone else, but having a break woulda been nice.)
Now that his core was done, technically the daily hanging out probably wasn’t as necessary. So long as Jason had some backup plans to keep himself calm and in control. Which should mean that they could go from hanging out as a necessary chore to just… friends.
And since no one in the city wound Jason up like Bruce, if he happened to also be at the manor he’d have a trial-by-fire for his shiny new core. He’d kept his word and tapped out of patrol since meeting Lady Gotham (and apparently Harley had taken the manor in fire and glory the night after and locked Bruce… somewhere for two full days), so he’d not heard from B since.
According to Tim, Constantine hadn’t returned to Gotham at all.
The thought of their names only stirred angry bubbles from Pitty, and Jason absolutely wasn’t self destructive or a masochist, so he was just testing to see how far that’d last. How careful he’d need to be, and how aware the little guy was.
So obviously he wasn’t even all the way into the manor before he ran into the man himself.
Stopping short, Jason’s fist clenched more from force of habit than any actual desire. Sucking in a deep breath, he thought of his ghost succulent (which had started glowing faintly blue a couple nights ago, which was hopefully a good thing?) and carefully unclenched. Nodded a little stiffly.
This would be the first time they’d been alone together since… shit, he didn’t even know. He hadn’t seen the guy without the buffer of at least one other bat in months.
“Bruce,” he said warily, half hoping the man could just… be normal. For once. Nod, say hi, fuck off about his own business. He couldn’t still be on his anti-Danny crusade, could he?
The man actually flinched, face twitching through a couple of expressions Jason couldn’t even guess at. A sudden urge between his shoulder blades did nothing to help, distracting him long enough for everything to be smoothed under the usual masks.
If Bruce just had a damn aura… okay, that’d be one change with the completed core. All of his attempts to reach out with his own aura before had basically involved his whole body actually leaning in the same direction.
That… urge, itch between his shoulders, if that had been his aura trying to reach out, felt more like an entirely new muscle group. Curiosity won and Jason focused, trying to follow the urge and reach out… and wasn’t sure it had worked at all.
Because all he could feel was sorrow and regret, and that didn’t sound like B. At all. His compartmentalizing was out the ass, sure, but what the hell would he actually feel sorry for?
“Jason?” And from the sound of it, not the first time he’d said his name. Great.
Shelving the apparently-faulty aura for now, Jason frowned back.
“I’m here to see Alfred.” It wasn’t exactly a warning. Wasn’t exactly a threat, although it carried the possibility. Meant that if B pissed him off enough to leave, he’d face some British disapproval.
Bruce’s shoulders sagged just a little, and then he drew himself up, his face firm and resolved. Jason tensed automatically; if he actually tried to bar him from seeing Danny face to face, would he still be able to walk away?
That was why he’d brought the glacierfrost. Slipping a hand into his back pocket, he crushed a crystal quickly before the man could open his mouth. Wintergreen mint burst across the back of his tongue, another brief flicker of distraction that, for some reason, came with another pang of sorrow.
“I’m sorry.”
Jason nearly stumbled, and he hadn’t even been moving. Bruce looked… tired, all of a sudden. More tired than he could remember ever seeing him.
“Wait… what?”
Bruce gave him a sad smile.
“It’s been brought to my attention… multiple times… that you should have heard that from me alone first. And then I kept adding more and more to be sorry for. And I know you don’t want to see me, so now seems like the best time to start.” It was jerky, and awkward, and probably the most uncomfortable Jason had ever seen Bruce in a conversation.
Which only served to confuse him further. Bruce overplanned everything; he never acted without at least two layers of backups. It was why he had a million plans for every possible micro-scenario. He didn’t do spontaneous.
“What are you even talking about?” He asked, half exasperated, and Bruce’s smile widened a fraction. That only made it more self deprecating.
“There are too many things to count, but… Jason, I’m sorry I sprung the apology on you at the gala. I thought having the world as my witnesses would show you I meant it, but I should have asked first. I should have apologized first, to you. Alone. I’m… aware what it says about me that I couldn’t.” He was almost wearing one of Brucie’s self-deprecating smiles now, but the edges were raw. Unpolished. Certainly not camera ready.
Real?
Jason’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his brain entirely short-circuited. Of all the things Bruce could have said to him… of all the things the man might apologize for, he’d honestly forgotten all about the damn gala speech.
Forcing himself to focus, he folded his arms and regarded his former father figure warily.
“Sure, that’s a place to start,” he agreed, more sarcastically than he’d meant to. But he couldn’t take it back.
There was another moment of stiffness, and then Bruce’s shoulders sagged as well as he breathed out, still looking… well, so much more human. More breakable, more fallible. Or was that just from hearing him admit he’d been wrong?
“I do mean it, Jason. I did mean it,” he said softly, piercing blue eyes unusually gentle as he looked him over, and suddenly Jason knew what was bothering him.
The mask. The iron mask of Batman, the bumbling shield of Brucie. B always had a mask, over every interaction. Every situation, every possible scene, B always had a character to play. And he played them well.
That was what looked wrong about him. He wasn’t… intentional. His posture was open and unthreatening, his face lax in a way it never was while he held every muscle in check.
This was just actual, sincere B.
Jason wasn’t completely sure why that made him want to run or cry, but it said a fuck of a lot about him too.
More that he just couldn’t bring himself to return it.
Sucking in a sharp breath, seriously considering grabbing for another crystal, he nodded sharply.
“Okay. Now what.” Because that was the thing; Jason had never wanted B to be sorry that he hadn’t come for Jason. That he finally hadn’t been on time to save him from himself.
He didn’t want the apology, he wanted things to change. To be better. For Bruce to accept that it had happened, and Jason was who he was now because he’d decided to be, not the pits or Tallia or the Joker.
He wanted so many things.
Bruce was searching his face, eyes sharp even as he consciously kept the rest of the expression open. Jason could see the tick of muscle in his cheek. Fuck, was it that hard for Bruce not to put on the act?
After a moment, he spread his hands. A gesture of peace? Not holding a weapon, not tensed for an attack?
“That’s all. For now. I just… wanted you to know. I’m sorry. And I’m…” the expression pulled a little, becoming pained, “I have been told I am overreacting to the news from Amity Park as well. I should trust your judgement. So I’m pulling myself from the case to focus on the Anti-Ecto Acts.”
This time Jason’s jaw just dropped. B… Bruce never. Never pulled himself from a case. Not for broken bones, ruptured organs, not even if he’d died.
It was almost worse than the rage; all of a sudden he was lost at sea, the one grounding, immovable rock in his life swept away. Part of him was even angry at that - at B suddenly deciding that now, this time he was going to be reasonable.
When all Jason expected from him was judgement, antagonism, stupid overbearing demands and being held at arm’s length, now all of a sudden the Bat was human.
It was too late to pretend the moment hadn’t happened, to completely hide his shock, but he also couldn’t stop the bluster from rising. Not the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously, even when every part of him that had been Robin desperately hoped this was real.
“And what the hell brought that on?” Not the accusation in his voice, although for once Bruce didn’t rise to it. He just chuckled dryly, like he’d been expecting Jason’s reaction.
“Because you were right.”
And now Jason was fully on edge again, scanning the man more closely for any signs of hypnotism, mind control, that this was a clone or a replacement. A trap or a trick. Because B… Bruce would never…
Bruce raised both hands quickly, possibly expecting Jason to just… jump him. Which, to be fair, would have been a more normal interaction.
“You were the one who brought the Amity Park situation to our attention. And you’re right, that I can’t expect your doctor or any other ghost to come here to help you until it is safe for them to do so,” he added quickly, and Jason rocked back onto his heels.
Of course, the caveat. That made sense, bitter in the back of his throat as it was. Just an inarguable set of facts.
Not like he’d ever actually admit that Jason’s judgement was reliable or anything. Folding his arms again (partly to stop his fists from clenching), he gave Bruce a sceptical look.
“Right, so what finally yanked your head out of your ass about it?” He asked sharply. Bruce gave him that same wry smile.
“Diana. And Harley. And Alfred. And Selena. I have been… extensively informed I had my head up my ass. So. I’m sorry for that too. I just wanted to tell you before I left, since I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”
And it shouldn’t have been funny that he actually looked more pained talking about this, admitting a mistake, than he had when nursing broken ribs in the infirmary. Than he’d looked during any of their fights, than when Jason had all but grabbed his face and forced him to see that it really was him, that his dear little Robin came back wrong.
But dark humour was a refuge for all the bats, and if Jason didn’t laugh he had a horrible feeling he’d cry. All that tension, all those days he’d worried about what he’d say or do when they came face to face again… he’d never have imagined any of this.
Could imagine another bloody battle before imagining Bruce saying sorry.
All of a sudden he was just tired. Ha. Dead tired.
Nothing drained the life out of him like dealing with Bruce.
“Great. So where are you going?” It was almost a rhetorical question; he didn’t really expect an answer.
Should have, though. Obviously B had to stick his foot in it again.
“Amity Park. As Bruce Wayne, not Batman,” he added quickly when Jason’s head snapped up, glare sharpening, “it seems the logical place to begin work on the acts.”
And alright, Bruce didn’t sound defensive. He never did; just obstinate, which meant so many things that guessing when it meant what was a losing game.
Jason groaned loudly, raising both hands to scrub down across his face. Because of course all that weirdness hadn’t changed a damn thing. B was gonna B, creepy and intrusive and all.
“And look into Danny.” He said flatly, locking eyes with Bruce in time to see his expression twitch. Was he actually gonna lie?
Apparently not. Bruce sighed and nodded.
“My focus will be on establishing a connection between “Brucie” and the Anti-Ecto Acts, and investigating the GIW. Danny has been involved in both, and Zatanna has requested the elder Fentons provide me with protection,” he said like it was anything but a weak excuse.
Jason stared at him for a long moment, and then figured fuck it. Actually telling them before he left was technically still an improvement, and Danny and Jason were both well aware that there was gonna be some nosy bullshit.
He’d warned Danny this was gonna happen, and Danny had said it was fine. That he didn’t care about anything Batman might find… and knowing just how badly the Justice League had fucked up was going to eat the asshole alive. Which he could have avoided just by listening.
About to just walk away, Jason hesitated. There was actually one thing… technically not a necessary for a halfa, but fuck it. Might as well get B used to some ghostly etiquette early.
“Have you asked Danny?”
Bruce stilled, giving Jason a complicated look that mostly felt like judgement. Like Jason should know better than to ask.
“I was under the impression that removing the Anti-Ecto Acts is a priority?” He said stiffly, all awkward tension again.
Jason really did roll his eyes this time.
“Sure, but you’re going to his haunt. You text Superman before investigating in Metropolis.” Which technically hadn’t even been true when Jason was actually Robin, but B did text Clark before getting caught investigating in Metropolis. By anything but Kryptonian hearing.
The protocol basically only applied whenever another hero wanted to operate within Gotham because only Batman cared, but it was on the League’s books.
Bruce had picked up the wording though, because of course he had.
“His haunt?” He asked carefully, that tiny tick between his brows that meant he was processing starting up.
Jason rolled his eyes harder. For emphasis. Had JL Dark actually missed this part of the briefing? He was so not writing up Ghost Etiquette 101 for the league. No way.
But. It. Might be kinda cool. To have for himself. Especially since it was gonna be increasingly relevant.
“He’s a ghost hero, B. He died there, he protects the city. He’s like, the only one who’ll actually get your territorial crap, because in his case it’s part of his makeup.”
Actually, might be part of B’s too. Danny hadn’t said how liminal Bruce in particular was, but it really wouldn’t surprise Jason if claiming a haunt was part of it. Or if Lady Gotham had already picked out a spot for him.
That thought stung, so he dismissed it immediately and turned towards the kitchen. Hell with the brownies he’d been planning, he was gonna need something much more complicated to keep his mind off the latest wave of bullshit.
Alfred liked soufflés. Jason could activate the house defences to keep the little gremlins out until they were done.
“Just fucking text him, B. Entering a ghost’s haunt without permission is declaring intent to throw down, and that’s a fight none of us need.” No matter how much he might like to watch B go up against the ridiculous power-set Danny was packing.
Sure, the Bat went toe to toe with the gods, but that was with plans, tech, and often, backup. Apparently he still didn’t know shit about ghosts, so it’d be fun to watch him try and adapt on the fly… especially when even Danny wasn’t sure how many actual powers were on the table.
**
Bruce hesitated for a long moment, looking at Jason’s retreating back.
That had gone… frankly he did not trust his own read on Jason enough to tell. Neither of them had yelled. He’d said what he was prepared to; he was still working on the appropriate format for the rest.
Jason… hadn’t reacted. Not with anger, which was a blessed relief, but not with anything else either. Except disbelief. Exasperation. Shock.
Not really any aggression, though. That had to be a decided improvement. And while part of Bruce suspected he’d been told to inform Danny so the boy could hide anything unsavoury….
He’d known that was likely to happen when he told Jason his plans. Jason would tell Danny; his allegiances there were firmly (and worryingly quickly) established.
Telling Danny himself… there was a chance that Jason had been serious about it being a matter of protocol. A formal request, for contact with an inter-dimensional entity.
Despite that entity being present and active in Bruce’s own city without so much as a nod to the Bat. But then, Batman was not a ghost, despite what the goons liked to suppose.
Firmly marshalling his own suspicions, Bruce pulled out his phone to message the youngest Fenton.
Stopped.
Bruce Wayne didn’t have the boy’s number. But Danny knew at least Nightwing’s identity; it was possible he knew them all.
He was going to Amity Park as Brucie Wayne, not Batman. But Brucie Wayne had no way to get the correct phone number. Unexpected contact from Batman was… well, expected, to an extent.
And his investigations would be handled and presented as Batman. Surely no one would challenge Brucie Wayne to a fight?
Mind made up, Bruce took his vigilante phone out and did a quick scan through his childrens’ updated contact lists. Most of them seemed to have been enjoying the company of the Amity Parkers; it wouldn’t be hard to get Danny’s contact information.
**
So. New year, new problems. Danny used to say it as a joke, but this year it was looking pretty darn literal.
Last year, for example, he hadn’t had to worry about his parents finding out about his supposed “love life” from a magazine (that Jazz must have sent them after they’d gone back to Amity Park, the traitor), and calling to hound him for details.
He’d managed to talk them out of driving the GAV straight to Gotham to threaten Jason into “treating him right”… which Jason thought was funny solely because he still didn’t actually know how large Jack Fenton was, nor how intense Maddie could be.
He still thought of them as civilians, and maybe a little less than competent, thanks to the database and their zero capture record.
Maybe Danny was cultivating that ignorance specifically so he could watch the moment of truth in person. Sue him, it was funny.
Unfortunately, since the magazine had also included that the gala they’d been “hooking up” at had been to celebrate Jason’s return from the dead, his mom had reached the halfa conclusion on her own. Danny had wanted to let Jason decide when to tell her, but that very first phone call the first words out of her mouth had been “Daniel James Fenton, have you met another halfa without telling us?”
And Danny had been so taken aback by them actually noticing anything (it was to do with ghosts, of course they’d noticed, he’d kicked himself for days after) that she’d taken his speechlessness as confirmation.
So.
They had that out of the way before they even said hi.
Despite Danny’s firm assurances that he and Jason weren’t actually dating, the papers were making the whole thing up (the photos hadn’t helped, but his dad seemed to buy that he’d been. Trying to help Jason fix his shirt. After the rogue attack, y’know), his parents had insisted on another call with Jason.
And Jazz. Because he had to introduce his sister to his new boyfriend too.
Jason had… taken it well? Hadn’t gotten much of a word in edgewise, around Jack Fenton’s boisterous laughter and insistence that he come around some time soon. He’d agreed with Danny that they definitely were not dating, which.
They weren’t.
They just weren’t.
They were just. Friends. Who hung out after classes in the evening. And texted all day. And told each other their deepest darkest soul secrets in like, a week after they’d met.
Danny’s mom had seemed a little more convinced by the end of the call, but still insisted Jason should come down to Amity Park anyway, to get to know the family.
Danny was still in denial about it being even a little bit helpful, but Jason had decided to drop the Fright Knight bomb right away. It was the actual real reason they were so close now, so it made sense as an explanation that wasn’t them being partners or whatever.
(Danny still hated it. Resented he couldn’t be trusted to just… have a friend. It always had to be something stupid and dramatic.
And he was totally offended by how immediately relieved his mom had been that he’d have someone “looking after him”. Like he wasn’t a whole ass adult for years already, and the king of a realm for longer than that.)
And now he was gonna have to call them back, and probably get a message to Fright Knight, because Danny’s newest problem was that Batman now had his phone number.
And was asking his permission to go to Amity Park to deal with the Anti-Ecto Acts.
(“Brucie Wayne” was officially the one going for the Acts, the message only said that Batman would be escorting the billionaire and gathering evidence separately, but Danny wasn’t fucking buying it.
And since Batman had his phone number and had used it, Tucker could technically get into Batman’s phone and prove it. Like Constantine showing up at Wayne Manor left a shadow of a doubt.
But noooo, Danny knew all about dramatics and billionaires and their sketchy underground labs. He could play along.)
Which, technically, might wind up solving one of his biggest problems.
It was also gonna completely ruin all the work he and Jason had done persuading the Fentons they weren’t dating; he could already hear his dad booming delightedly about meeting future in-laws. Because why else would Jason’s dad go to visit?
Not like there were actual laws on the books declaring Danny as a mandatory extermination target. Or like the Justice League might finally have gotten their thumbs out of their asses and want to check in.
Clearly Danny’s love life was the only thing that mattered.
At least he wouldn’t have to worry about that crap from Frighty; all the ghosts were gonna know all about Danny and Jason’s soul resonance (be still his beating fucking heart that was still ridiculous). He would have to let him know a superhero was gonna be in town though.
Actual ghosts weren’t likely to mistake Batman for one of their own and these days most of Danny’s rogue gallery was cool about not picking fights with humans without Fenton tech, but Danny figured better safe than sorry.
And.
Maybe.
Really wanted to see Batman and Fright Knight hang out. They were gonna totally love or totally hate each other, and either way he was a little sorry he was gonna miss it.
Unless he gave in and took time off class, kidnapped Jason from whatever work he did, and made the trip home… because he’d been direly warned that if he did show up without Jason, Jack Fenton would drive him back to Gotham personally. So, no. Nope. Not happening.
The long and the short of it was that instead of being blissfully free of his parents nagging him to visit until the summer, he was now fielding calls and texts demanding he come back home for March Break, at the latest. And bring Jason.
Mom wanted to “assess him”, which was fucking terrifying and the more Jason didn’t take it seriously the more Danny was tempted to actually make the trip. It would at least come with a defined end date. And force Jazz to take a break if she wanted to come too.
She at least had been less insistent on calling him every single day to bug him about it; probably because she was busy frying herself to death at university. She’d apologized for missing the group chat too, and the first family phone call, but it wasn’t a huge surprise.
Jazz had had the helicopter parent firmly knocked out of her by double majors, which Danny used to think was a good thing. Now he considered it might actually be a sign she was… not cracking under the pressure? But not taking care of herself.
Hopefully it wouldn’t return full force once she got some actual sleep and decent food in her.
Honestly, Danny wasn’t unaware that this was the most normal his problems had ever been. Just a few years ago he’d have done anything but wish to Desiree that his biggest problem would be “my parents think I’m dating one of my friends”.
Right now it was looking pretty good too, actually. Because at this precise second, Danny’s biggest problem was that he was running out of excuses not to talk to Nocturn.
***
Tim was beginning to think he had a bit of a crush on Tucker Foley. It was a surprise to him as much as anyone else; normally the kind of fawning adoration that tech geeks usually followed him with was an instant turn off. There was just… no point getting close to people who saw him as an idea, not a person.
And, frankly? The mere existence of Timblr probably would have been a red flag for anyone else. Sure, Tucker had closed it down, but it still existed - and Tucker Foley could have taken care of that easily.
The thing was… even under the hero worship he’d caught in Tucker’s eyes when they were first introduced… well, Tucker wasn’t exactly respectful to his heroes. That did tend to follow along with a friend in a teen hero career; everyone else was instantly less cool by association.
Tucker just plain wasn’t a good fanboy. He hung on Tim’s every word, right up until they started talking tech - the subject he most admired Tim for. Didn’t admire him enough not to cut him off half way through an explanation, call an idea “archaic”, or ask if Tim was serious.
(And okay, once or twice he hadn’t been; just testing his technical chops.)
The thing was, Tucker wasn’t only a genius with regular technology, he was a prodigy in an entirely new field of software and occult collusion, and he knew it. He was delighted to upgrade Tim’s systems (although Danny would still need to do the full ecto-infusions; Tucker could interface, but didn’t produce his own ectoplasm), and more than happy to point out everywhere they needed improving.
Tim genuinely respected his opinion, which wasn’t a distinction he gave to many people who’d never worn a cape; he’d already cc’d the other, Lucius Fox, into his and Tucker’s email chains. (Lucius was very enthusiastic about the oncoming apprenticeship - for him.)
And Tucker was funny, allergic to personal privacy, and… well, Tim was pretty sure he’d felt those first twinges when, as promised, he tagged Tucker in to help interrogate the Riddler.
Digitally, obviously. With Tucker’s classes starting back up and the New Years hangovers finally clearing the board, the next time they saw each other in person might be upsettingly far out. But Tucker had cheerfully hacked his way into Gotham PD’s systems and made himself comfortable while Red Robin and Batwoman waited for Riddler to be brought in.
Tim had so few pure pleasures in his life, but watching Kate try to keep a straight face when the interrogation room’s speakers began blasting what was essentially a stripper theme perfect for Eddie Nygma the second the door closed?
Riddler had been utterly baffled as well, talking over the beginning until they reached the chorus, where the singer practically spelled out his name. His stunned silence had given way to a burst of offended protest that was entirely undercut by the way his fingers kept time.
As the teen hero in the room, Red Robin was allowed to snicker at him, but Batwoman had to pretend to be an adult about it.
And when the first song ended, silence had fallen for what must have been a perfectly calculated fifteen seconds, and then the Jeopardy theme began playing.
Of course, soundtracking hadn’t been Tucker’s only contribution to the interrogation, just Tim’s favourite. Red Robin had the tablet from the gala back from evidence, from which Tucker had cheerfully admitted in Matrix style scrolling green text that he’d been the one back-hacking Nygma’s files… and locking him out of them.
And replacing every single link Nygma had clicked from the night of the gala to the day Batwoman hauled him in to a random page from Riddles.com, which Riddler had declared a new vendetta against every time anyone would listen. It was beautiful.
Robins were professionally annoying, it was part natural talent on all of their parts (except Damian) and part intensive training on how to disrupt thought patterns and push people into mistakes. Tucker could have led the class, and Tim had been overtaken by a powerful urge to kiss the smug grin he could feel through Tucker’s text straight off his face.
Of course, Tim had a boyfriend. And had been overtaken more than once by similar urges for almost every one of his friends, when they did something brilliant.
Steph called it oral fixation, Tim preferred positive reinforcement. Conner found the whole thing extremely funny, especially since Tucker still stumbled over his words if Conner was so much as looking at him.
Which made all of his siblings trying to tease him about Tucker’s “crush” on Tim look ridiculous, by the way. Tucker Foley was not a subtle man; he couldn’t even string a sentence together around someone he actually liked.
He could string plenty of sentences together around Tim, the two of them could finish each others’ half the time.
(He wasn’t upset about Tucker’s obvious interest in Conner either; Tim knew damn well his boyfriend was an incredible catch and he was lucky to have him. Tucker’s crush was just… peer review.)
Already he was counting down the days until March Break, when Tucker was going to visit in person again. Honestly, he might push to get a zeta put in nearer to MIT in the meantime.
It wasn’t like the institute was never targeted by supervillains, it would just be practical.
But Tim himself couldn’t suggest that now, because then all of his siblings would jump on the Tucker thing and he’d never hear the end of it. It was a dilemma… because even if Conner or Danny could just go and pick him up again, zeta was just faster.
It had nothing to do with missing time that Conner and Tucker were bonding, or being a puppy waiting for his master to come home, whatever Steph said.
(And honestly, Tucker Foley? Not exactly commanding “master” material. Until he was talking about his area of expertise. Then he was certain and confident and got this really attractive gleam in his eye…)
The quickest solution would be getting all of Team Phantom officially involved in the Justice League, of course. Then he wouldn’t even need to suggest it; close zeta access was vital for all of the heroes.
But Team Phantom couldn’t join the League until Phantom’s existence was no longer illegal. So they had to dismantle the Anti Ecto Acts. Bruce was investigating the GIW, and planning what he probably thought was a secret trip to Amity Park, but none of it was happening fast enough for Tim… because it probably wouldn’t be done by March Break. In two months.
He’d broken more than just the American government in two months; all it took was the right leverage. And a complete lack of self restraint.
So, y’know, Tim had a new side project in and around his other Gotham cases. All he needed was a house and then senate majority, and they could get those laws repealed the second the government came back from break.
Lois Lane was already working on the story, Clark would probably join Bruce in Amity Park (whether he knew Bruce was there or not) for interviews. There was only so much public pressure could do though, and that never worked fast enough either.
Not compared to Tim’s preferred methods. He liked the personal touch.
****
Fun fact, slower core formation? Had not meant slower ghost powers. Not in Jason’s case, anyway; not even a week after his core came in, a coffee cup had slipped straight through his hand and shattered on the floor.
He’d stopped handling Alfred’s good china that day, mindful of Danny’s many horror stories about the school lab’s glassware. Alfred hadn’t actually questioned it, although he’d gotten a couple of raised eyebrows when he slid a junk mug toward the kettle.
It was just a good thing he’d already cut down patrolling; he’d been planning to take a step back anyway for a while. Just until he got the balance right between being Red Hood and the newly resurrected Jason Todd.
He’d had to stop entirely, at least until he got the intangibility under control. Sure, becoming temporarily impervious to weapons would be convenient when he got to choose when it switched off or on. Phasing various limbs half way through solid surfaces and getting stuck though?
No.
Not a chance in Hell. That was not an acceptable risk.
Invisibility had started not long after, which had definitely complicated his trips to the manor; all the bats were good, but vanishing completely out of the blue? That would raise comment.
The good news was that the glacierfrost seemed to be helping there too; either because of the ecto in the ice, or just keeping his emotions regulated, which kept the powers from acting up. Jason wasn’t taking unnecessary risks, but he’d noticed that for at least a couple hours after a hit, he was in more control.
Intentionally turning the powers on was still a struggle, but apparently that’d just get better with time. And probably fighting - that was the common denominator under all his ghost problems.
Ghost Fight Club was officially starting the second he’d got the transformation down, but how exactly they were going to try and trigger that in a controlled environment was still… less clear than Jason would like.
They’d have to work it out soon though; the only other ability that was likely to kick in before he could transform was flight, according to Danny. Time was a-tickin’.
And… alright. It wasn’t like Jason was sat at home every night; that was what he and Danny were doing after school now that they’d cut back to at least a couple days a week. A little practice on budding ghost powers, with backup.
“Surveying his haunt” was what Danny called it, but it basically meant Danny going ghost and Jason putting on a domino he claimed he borrowed from Dick, and the two of them bouncing around the Alley. And occasionally Danny pushing him off roofs to see if flight had kicked in yet.
(It hadn’t, but he still had his grapples, and refused to let Danny rescue him from his own bullshit.)
Sensing the city’s natural ecto had gotten much easier with his core fully developed, and Danny was teaching him how to mark it with his own. Pitty’s ongoing corruption was fucking it up though; it was still producing corrupted ectoplasm, and actually more of it now that they were both whole.
(Jason had started sleeping with Frostbite’s ghost succulent next to his pillow. That was how he’d noticed the new blue glow, which he still meant to ask about. It was still firm and strong, and it… didn’t feel sick?)
Corrupted ecto reeked so strongly of that corruption that it was completely useless for anything else, apparently. So until they finally finished purging Pitty, what all their little adventures actually amounted to was tagging.
Danny made them special ecto-spray-paint, and they spent the nights finding weirder and weirder corners to spray a little mark onto. Jason would have liked to use something to do with Red Hood, for the symmetry, but. Well. He hadn’t worked out how to have that conversation yet.
He’d been making do with little ghost doodles. It had been years since he’d done any real graffiti art, but it was like riding a bike, and the ecto sprayed really well. A cartoon ghost wasn’t all that hard anyway; an elongated little blob, occasionally with little fangs or unattached clawed hands.
He’d been going for something like an Among Us bean, but Danny had declared that he was drawing Pitty, and well… it stuck. Doodling little Pit ghosts was the order of the day, ranging from cute little Pittys (modelling good behaviour, Danny called it) or vicious little bastards, depending on how both Jason and Pitty had been that day.
Because that was definitely one piece of good news, in with all the bullshit new ghost powers was causing. Before he’d felt surges of rage, the moments where the Pit was reaching out and trying to affect him. Universally bad, aggressive, and violent, pre-Danny.
He could kinda feel it all the time now, like a heated scarf draped over his body, or the constant breathing of a dog just behind his ear. It was quiet mostly, and he was beginning to suspect it had cost more energy than he’d ever expected for it to reach out to him at all.
For all that he’d worried about it being too much like raising a kid, it… well, the nice way to say it was probably that it wasn’t that bright. It could talk to him in ghostspeak, kind of; most of what he actually heard felt like emotional reactions, closer to speaking through auras than words despite how much it’d felt like it was crawling up his throat.
The Pit could handle basic concepts, recognised Danny’s name, but other than that? It mostly seemed to follow Jason’s emotional lead… and then dial it up to eleven. Which, yeah, was exactly what he’d been scared of when he thought it might be like, a whole ass person. Toddlers were terrifying little sponges.
Jason’s experience of kids wasn’t exactly what he’d call normal, sure, but Pitty was reminding him less of a kid and more and more of some kind of small and bitey animal.
Which, y’know, was a relief. Sort of. It wasn’t like he could fuck up an animal in the same way as he could a kid. Nowhere near the same level of responsibility.
Just. When he thought about the pit rage, the idea of it being attached to something which literally had fangs and claws was not exactly reassuring. Even at the size of a chihuahua.
A little impromptu art therapy while they marked his haunt wasn’t exactly helping with that part, but it wasn’t hurting. And he was trying to explain that feeling bad was not actually dangerous or harmful… via spray paint.
He was only about 70% sure that Pitty could see.
But it got him out and about, kept him in shape at least for swinging from roof tops, and gave him an excuse to hang out with Danny. It did involve actively avoiding anything he’d normally investigate (at least until he had a reasonable explanation… or brought up the Red Hood thing)… but it felt good. It was soothing.
Even knowing full well he’d made plans, prepared extensively, still had his guys making sure the Alley was safe and all was well, he still found himself itching to patrol on the nights he stayed in.
He could only assume that was part of the whole Haunt thing; he had good people working under him, and a couple of bright lieutenants that while he’d never let them wear the hood, he was comfortable giving them some solo enforcement missions to keep the fear of Red Hood in everyone’s hearts. All relevant parties, anyway.
Luckily he still had the library project as a convenient excuse for the bats. It kept them off his ass, and Jason could admit that it probably wouldn’t have taken much to persuade him to take a night run.
And get his ass stuck half way through some fucking wall somewhere, or lose a foot to a rooftop, and need to break himself free or call Danny in the fucking suit. Nope.
(He’d been tempted to let his family think he was saving his nights for Danny, which wasn’t even completely untrue; Danny wasn’t over every night anymore, not with his school schedule, but if he wasn’t over they texted.
Jason had begun saving a meme folder just for things to show Danny, which had quickly absorbed his full folder for death jokes and just kept going. Danny was going to be a very supportive “father” for their fake pit-kid, and had clearly been stockpiling dad jokes to send back.)
Honestly though, Jason was just relieved he’d already planned to slow the vigilante side for a while in the wake of his official revival; there was a lot that had to be done to come back from the dead, and a lot more he could do with official Wayne backing for areas of Crime Alley that Hood couldn’t touch.
He’d even let some of the bats in on those plans before Danny showed up; it wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t patrolling. They were mostly leaving him alone about it, although Dick had offered to pop his Red Hood gear on and run a couple of patrols if things got too rowdy.
Jason had told him to fuck off, then got his street kids spreading the rumour that Hood was gearing up for something big. Let people think that the momentary quiet was just the first rumbles for an oncoming storm.
Hell, let them think Hood was in cahoots with Jason Todd-Wayne; that or preparing to run him out of the Alley. Let both of his lives work together for a while. The rumours shut half the fucking low-level dealers up; no one was pushing anything within three blocks of his territory, in case Hood was planning an expansion.
That’d boil over after a while and bite him in the ass if he didn’t go and kick something down, but for now it worked. He had so much to do for the library, for the new shelters from the Wayne foundation, for the soup kitchens. He actually was pretty busy, even on his nights in.
Fuck, he’d even taken time to hang out with the actual Alley kids, as Jason and Hood. The mouthy little shits kept him grounded, and maybe he’d tried it as a trial run for Pitty, but since that wasn’t gonna be the same problem he’d kept it up as a test of his own patience.
Which had. Very abruptly. Become the cause of one of his biggest concerns. Because the biggest change since his core came in had actually taken him a couple more days to notice.
Because now, Jason could see the fingerprints of the new entity.
That hadn’t been fun to work out; he’d been intentionally taking it slow until his core formed. Part of him had been sorta hoping to be able to just avoid anything that might set them both off until the Pit was ready to pop out on its own. Nothing related to the new case he couldn’t start, nothing related to the Joker or pits or any of that shit.
So when some of the kids had been showing up with some weird shadowy smudge on their clothes, he’d assumed it was the usual Gotham grime. They claimed not to see it, he threw them at the laundry room and cussed them out, it always came off.
Now the Curse, the Curse was staying out of Crime Alley entirely. He’d seen it during the day once or twice, a shadow attached where it shouldn’t be, a flicker over Damian or Tim’s shoulder. He always knew when the Curse was around now, a frosty fog filled his lungs whenever it was close.
(Danny had called it his “ghost sense”, which was lame but Jason didn’t have a better idea.)
And those smudges didn’t have the same kind of ozone-aftertaste that the Curse left in his mouth.
And then one of his girls, maybe seven years old, had come in with that same kind of smeared shadow sticking through soft black hair. He’d had some sharp fucking words with the older kids about that, he didn’t expect them to stay pristine at all times, but for fucks sake it was clumping.
Basic hygiene fucking mattered on the street, none of them could afford a proper de-matting or even a decent razor to shave their heads, so Jason had instilled the importance of bare-minimum finger combing in every one of them years ago. You could live with a fucking rug dragging at your skull, but it made absolutely everything harder.
He’d sat the girl on a stool and washed her hair in a bucket himself, while repeating the same fucking lecture to the other girls. Noticed half way through that while the sticky shit was indeed washing out of her hair, it wasn’t being broken down by the soap.
It was clinging to him instead, seeping into the creases of his fingers and under his nails. He’d tried not to visibly react, giving her a last rinse and wrapping her hair in a towel-hat that she didn’t stop touching for the next forty minutes, fucking it up a dozen times.
The smudgy crap had washed off his hands eventually, but when he saw Danny the next day he’d visibly backed up a few steps, then given Jason about six shots of ecto because his was apparently rancid again. No prizes for spotting the connection, and from there it was obvious.
And then he’d seen Harley the next day, that same smudgy crap a handprint around her fucking throat, and he’d seen red. Hot, angry, blood red, and it not being green had startled the life out of him.
(Harley noticed. Duh. It was her thing. And while Jason couldn’t just tell her some malevolent fucking entity made from her shitty ex was crawling through the city, he’d been as honest as he could be.
Harley definitely couldn’t see the smudges. Danny hadn’t had any answers or way to make it stop fucking touching people.)
Hypothetically, this was all gonna be good in the end. It’d make things easier, being able to see and track this shitstain’s work.
It did not feature in his “don’t get pissed off or think about work” plan.
It was just faintly possible that obsession, self flagellation, and a desire to be personally responsible for fucking everything might be more than just Bruce’s problem. Could maybe be a family affair.
Jason made more pies. Occasionally narrating what he was doing aloud, half for Pitty’s benefit and half for Danny’s when the little shit was crashing on his couch.
It was fine. He was coping. Another couple weeks, Danny reckoned, and Pitty would be out of his body and he could get back to his fucking life.
With a pet Pit ghost in tow, apparently, but if the worst came to the worst he could fucking soup the thing once it was outside him.
(He was also going to teach Danny to make soup. Proper soup. On principle.)
**
Preparing for his trip to Amity Park had taken longer than Bruce had expected. Not least because Alfred had finally run out of patience, and sentenced him to bedrest for the next 12 hours after he returned from the Justice League meeting lest he unlock the tranquilizer guns and give his children free reign.
In the old days, when he’d just become Batman, Bruce had assumed Alfred would never be able to catch him anyway. He’d been cocky and confident in his skills, and often ignored Alfred’s demands.
And yet the man always seemed to know, raising a disapproving eyebrow at Bruce every time he’d slipped back into the room just before Alfred made his rounds.
And then Steph came into his life, and Bruce learned all too fast that Alfred had merely been waiting for appropriate safeguards. That was three kids along of course, but by now Bruce knew exactly why it had been Steph Alfred had waited for.
His relationship with Dick was too tumultuous. While Dick never feared Bruce and was perfectly happy to join Alfred in nagging and bossing him around, by the time Dick moved out Bruce had half expected to only see his son at Justice League meetings, if at all.
They were different men, and Dick had always had an anger in him that Bruce couldn’t fathom. He’d mastered it, his control very rarely slipping, but… Bruce had trained Dick himself, and he was one of a very short list of people that Bruce had no concrete backup plan for.
Nothing but hope to make him cocky with the first attack, and pray the second caught him off guard.
His relationship with Dick hadn’t improved until Tim came into his life… and helped him get his head out of his ass.
Jason? Jason had been an angel. A scruffy, beaten down angel with badly bruised wings when Bruce first picked him up, but he’d flourished in Wayne Manor. He’d taken to Robin with joy and enthusiasm, but had more devotion to his studies than any of Bruce’s kids before or since.
He’d even stay in to study for tests, and if things had been different… perhaps he’d have been the one to break Bruce’s obsession with his night life.
But Bruce had begun taking that good heart for granted, pushed when he should have listened, and sent Jason to his death.
Tim had a hard enough time keeping Bruce from killing himself, along with anyone who stood in the way of his mission. He was a solemn, serious little boy from the start, and though Dick took a more active role this time around and declared himself a big brother (possibly to spite Bruce)… well.
It had to be Steph.
Steph, who would vehemently deny being one of his from whoa to go, was just like all of his children; a feral little gremlin. But Steph had that one more element too, the one which young Dick had had in spades but pulled back from with Bruce years before.
Steph liked to have fun.
Tim treated Bruce as a mission just as much as Gotham was Bruce’s, and Dick had never forgiven him for Jason. Or the fights that went before. Neither could pick up a Nerf gun and hunt him through the city in pure play in those days.
Until Steph gave them the guns, of course. Now any and every one of his children would happily take a tranq gun from Alfred and merrily stalk him through the manor and city at large, and even to the Watchtower if he tempted fate (and Tim).
Bruce was powerless against them, although pride warred with frustration every single time one of them managed to drug him to sleep. He’d trained them well. Well enough that they’d put what was right over what he wanted, that none of them were even a little afraid of him.
He’d planted the seeds of his own destruction.
So when he’d seen Duke and Dick hanging “casually” around the halls while Alfred escorted him to bed, he’d resigned himself to twelve hours of rest.
He’d slept for sixteen. And woke feeling much better, to his own chagrin. His head felt clearer, the migraine almost gone, and the sudden swoops of nausea had finally begun to pass.
He still had odd moments, especially when he’d been on the computer planning the trip to Amity Park for too long, but he’d reluctantly agreed with Alfred. He needed to fully recover from his concussion; that meant rest. And taking days and weeks instead of hours.
Amity Park would still be there, after all. He couldn’t get back the years they’d been late. He’d had to concede another two weeks.
Zatanna had also demanded an explanation for why he was suddenly interested in the town - luckily the Anti-Ecto Acts provided a sufficient cover. They were even most of the reason he was going.
She could also see the gravity of the situation, and offered to put him in touch with some local specialists who claimed to have tech that would keep him from being possessed. Specialists named “Fenton”. Because of course they were.
She’d offered him a ward as well, but mostly in jest. She knew how Bruce felt about magic, and had told him science was on the table almost immediately.
Bruce knew full well it wasn’t a coincidence. Formerly regarded as quacks, the Fentons had been featured prominently in all of their Amity Park news sources. Usually as menaces and a hazard to society, which aligned with what the Mansons had told him.
Still, their actions had nothing to do with the character of their son. Danny Phantom had been Amity Park’s protector for six years, although he’d not had many serious ghosts to fight for the last three.
As Foley had claimed, the ghosts seemed to have settled into a status of local nuisance that was oddly aligned with the Fentons senior; loud, intrusive, and often an inconvenience to your day, but not the threats to life, limb, or infrastructure that had characterised the first years after the portal opened.
Amity Park’s general consensus seemed to be that Danny Phantom had tamed the ghosts, won over the Fentons, and quite efficiently saved the day. He hadn’t been sighted there much in the past year, but that was because he’d been in Gotham.
In school. Finally being able to study and look towards his future.
His main heroic endeavours in the last three years of his career had involved the same GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward that Foley had told Tim about. They unfortunately had not followed the general trend of de-escalation… although they had been rather subdued in the last year.
It felt different to Bruce, though. Incidents were less frequent, but those occurrences where they did find a ghost had become markedly more violent. The decreased frequency seemed to have lulled the townsfolk into believing they were also less of a threat, but the problem with pushing your enemies into a corner was how much more dangerous a cornered animal became.
There was something worrying happening with the GIW, that would have borne looking into even if he wasn’t also looking to understand Danny better. Preparing everything he’d need for the official investigation was most of what had slowed him down.
Of course, he was going to Amity Park as Brucie Wayne, not as Batman. Vlad Masters’ friendship was going to help him there; the man had been delighted to invite him down for the weekend when Bruce had reached out.
A little faked enthusiasm for football and interest in Vlad’s favourite team and he was a seemingly completely open book. He was more than happy to give Brucie the grand tour of his little town, and even promised a personal escort from the airport.
Bruce was beginning to suspect that getting away from the man might be more of a challenge, although he was another potentially useful source of information on the Amity Park situation.
Not that Masters was a particularly high priority source. But Bruce could admit he may have been hasty to dismiss his views on Danny as being biased, and as mayor he should know something about the GIW operations in his city… and given how many contracts with the agency could be traced back to his companies in the early days of the agency’s formations, he would be a much more serious subject for investigation than a source.
The good news was, everything was now in place. He had Danny’s permission and would be flying down to Amity Park in a matter of hours, and had already bought out the entire top floor of a local hotel, so he should have plenty of privacy to operate from.
With any luck, being able to set things in motion to repeal the Anti-Ecto Acts could also be a first step towards patching things up with Jason… and with Danny. No matter what conclusions Bruce came to in Amity Park, the Justice League owed Danny Phantom a serious apology, and the Infinite Realms some swift action.
Their negligence could have sparked an inter-dimensional war, and nearly had cost a young man his future. Bruce was self aware enough to admit that the guilt of that knowledge was a major factor in why he hadn’t spoken to Danny face to face again.
Yet.
At least Danny had given him permission to visit and explore his haunt. That had to count for something.
He was going to apologize. Probably after giving Jason the proper apology his son so richly deserved. Perhaps Jason would even be willing to help him work out how to properly apologize to Danny too; Bruce wasn’t good at apologies at the very best of times, but Harley had made it explicitly clear that he was going to be getting in a lot of practice.
**
Now, ya can call Harley Quinn a lot of things (and people definitely have), but one thing she ain’t despite the goofball act? Stupid.
Somethin’ was up in Gotham, somethin’ one heck of a lot weirder than all the weird shit that had marked her time in the city.
Oh, she’d gone an’ had another word with Brucie after Waylon told her how Jason’d had to leave through the roof after his talk with Constantine.
(She’d hunt Johnny-boy down later too, probably just after he decided she wasn’t gonna come for ‘im and stopped hiding, but odds on? Brucie’s fault, and Connie was just his unfortunate messenger.)
The thing was, he’d decided to sicc Johnny on poor Jason before they’d had their little talk, so by the time she caught him again he was already all downcast and shamefaced. Already admitting he done fucked up.
And it just wasn’t satisfyin’ to kick him while he was down, an’ while he was already tryin’. He’d even decided on his own to leave both boys alone for now, to let things cool down before tryin’ again.
Now, Mama Quinzel didn’t raise no dummy, she could see a million ways ol’ Brucie’s plan to go and try an’ fix Amity Park for Danny was gonna go wrong. But she wasn’t an expert at this ghost business, so she didn’t pretend to be.
She did exactly what she’d told Brucie to do; consulted an actual expert.
She asked Sammy and Jazzy, Danny’s big sis who was just a real darlin’, in their group chat (which had been popping off since Sammy was a lil sweetheart and set it up for ‘em; Jazzy-boo was of doin’ all kinds of neurological shit but she’d read some psych textbooks in her day, and Harley loved watching a self taught student grow). An’ then she hunted down Jason and Danny, to ask ‘em directly.
Which had been when she’d got her first clue that somethin’ was up; when Jason looked at her like she was still wearin’ a certain other clown’s paint, all stiff and locked up and full of anger.
See, that’d happened before. When they first met, him fresh outta the grave, her fresh outta Hell. When he’d asked if she and Joker were really through, an’ she’d told him hell yeah.
When he’d asked if she’d get in his way of killing the asshole.
That anger, all tight an’ tense an’ burstin’ had been wrapped around his throat then, chokin’ him on it. It was cooler now, more human, more like somethin’ the sweet lil sunshine child who could melt her heart with his tears could feel.
It still wasn’t, ya’know, in the vague vicinity of healthy, but she’d seen Jason Todd about to lose his shit before. An’ his hands shook when he touched her, when he asked what the hell she’d done to her neck.
Harley’d taken a good long look in several bathroom mirrors since. There was nothin’ she could see there, but Harley Quinn had been a short term guest in more than one Hell. There was plenty of shit she was all too happy not ta see.
Then there was ol’ Harvey. She’d run him down faster’n the bats, because she wasn’t also chasin’ Riddler, Great White Shark, at least three new plots from ol’ Pengy, or a suspiciously quiet and freshly escaped Scarecrow.
Two-Face had been all quiet an’ polite since his heist on the young Mr Todd’s party went tits up, so he’d flown under their radar.
Not hers.
Harley always made time for her old friends.
And Harvey had been weird too. Twitchy, on edge, jumpin’ at shadows. That happened if he thought the ol’ Bat was after ‘im, but he’d had no reason to think that. An’ for all he’d flipped his little coin and played up the bit, Harley knew when her friends were off.
Something had put Harvey on edge. Stuffed a bee up his ass and made him all snappy.
He’d even tried to pull a gun! On her! His sweet, darlin’, perfectly loveable and innocent Harleen!
So, ya’know, when she’d touched ground again an’ he’d run outta bullets, she’d knocked it outta his hands before he could reload and reminded him there were more than just Bats to fear. There was also her bat.
An’ by the time they were both all tired out and slumped against each other to order smoothies, he’d admitted he didn’t know why he’d decided to go fer young Jason. To attack their buddy Brucie’s boy.
Now, Harley wasn’t sure Harvey knew silly ol’ Brucie was the Big Bad Bat. She suspected he did, somewhere, in the part of him he hid from all the unpleasantness.
If he knew, he was repressin’ it real deep.
But he’d seen word of the gala, an’ something inside him went dark, and he’d flipped a coin. Got all sorts of plastic explosive of all things ready to really give Gotham a show they wouldn’t forget.
An’ then when it was time to roll out, nunna his cars’d start. An’ he’d flipped the coin again. And stayed home.
She snagged the detonators on his explosives on the way out, on principle. There were some rules after all, and while the Bats could certainly handle anythin’ ol’ Harvey could build, he shouldn’a shot at her.
Harley Quinn was officially out of the rogue game, but that had nothin’ ta do with shit disturbing. She was beginning to wonder though.
Somethin’ was weird in Gotham, a kinda energy in the streets that wasn’t the same black stubbornness she’d known and loved. Somethin’ that felt a little nastier. A little closer to biting.
Now, Harley Quinn was a lotta things. She also wasn’t a lotta the things everyone else thought she was.
She was no quitter. She was no fool. She was no coward to turn tail from some nasty vibes. She might still be a teensy weensy bit mentally disturbed, as you say, but she had her shit together.
An’ she knew when somethin’ else was tryin’ ta play with her head.
Much as she loved Gotham like a second home, she was beginnin’ ta wonder if she shouldn’t head back to Pammy an’ let their mystery of who was givin’ Coney Island a hard time sit with the Bats.
——————
The song Tucker’s playing for Tim and Nygma is here:
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IMPORTANT NOTE! Since about half the tag list no longer links to a blog, I will probably be retiring it for chapter 20, so either comment and let me know you still wanna be on it, or proceed on over to AO3 for alerts!
Part two:
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qiupachups · 11 months
Text
miles.g / wiles
.。.+*☆ headcannons 👾💭
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contents: general hcs, mention of his father’s death, i call 42-miles ‘wiles’, me sorta bullying him
a/n: after a lot of procrastination and harassment gentle encouragement from @vhstown i’m finally posting my hcs. :3c (they’ve been sitting here since july)
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Despite his tough guy exterior and criminal career, he's actually a massive nerd geek. Like: gundham, comics, posters all over his room.
Until you bring up those interests, he won't mention them. But once you start a conversation about them, he can tell you all the lore front to back or tell you where and when each collectible is from. Just listening to Wiles and nodding along will make his day.
Accepting help from others is not an option. Ever. He's an overly D.I.Y guy since his father's death and it's staying that way.
... unless you're very close to him. Wiles will begrudgingly accept your help and then be adamant on repaying you. No matter how trivial it was, he'll show his gratitude through service.
Wiles has great memory and knows all the lyrics to his favourite songs. Go through his playlist and pick something at random- he'll recite them flawlessly!
A good memory also helps with remembering those flashes of songs playing on your lock screen. Just a split second glance? He's adding it to his playlist, maybe listening to it as he works on his latest gear.
Would be a straight A student if he were there half the time. The only thing keeping his total grades down is attendance, where he’s often absent.
However, if he’s in a group project with you, Wiles will put more effort into it. Getting a ‘C’ or GPA point lower is fine if it means keeping Brooklyn safer. What’s not fine is him being the reason for your lower marks.
Unlike his counterpart from 1610, Wiles’ art is more realistic. He tries to capture the subjects’ essence quickly and minimally, so colours are an afterthought.
Accuracy was his pride in art until it came to you. He’d be so nervous in getting your smile right, scribbling failed attempts over and over again. Wiles even resorted to a pencil sketch.
Following the passing of Jefferson, Wiles has gotten much closer to Rio. That’s a no brainer; he was fourteen— a kid. And Jefferson never got to see his son in that overpriced Visions uniform.
Wiles makes an effort to speak more Spanish. He lets his mamí braid his hair even if it hurts like hell. Those stupid telenovelas aren’t that bad on the second watch.
Once upon a time, Wiles used to be a choir boy (keyword: used). He’d love singing hymns and doing nativities before he could read; all for his mamí and dad to see.
However, the christmas after Jefferson’s passing felt… empty. Wiles quickly lost his passion for choir and now just attends mass with Rio at most.
After years of experience being a choir boy, Wiles has the voice of an angel. Not that you’d know, of course— he intends to take that to the grave. But there’s also a deeper, darker secret… he can’t rap to save his life.
An extremely personal and harrowing Musically comment told him so. Following that attack, twelve year old Wiles abandoned his account with only a black profile picture left behind.
Like any other middle schooler, Wiles had a hype beast phase (he denies it). When Aaron got a Hype shirt for Wiles’ 12th birthday, words couldn’t describe how he almost knocked Aaron down with a hug.
The shirt’s first stain had Wiles distraught and furiously searching ‘remove paint on shirt hacks’ on Youtube. His heart would probably stop if he misplaced a gift from you.
Wiles isn’t the best cook, but he can definitely make himself a good meal. With Rio working night shifts and Uncle Aaron doing… jobs, he has to be self-sufficient.
A secret lil’ side project: he’s trying and failing to replicate Jefferson’s mac ‘n cheese. It wasn’t the best, but it was his. Something’s always off when Wiles makes it and he’s not quite sure what.
Sure, cooking isn’t that hard, but baking is like wizardry to Wiles. AP Chemistry and it’s endless calculations felt way easier than making pan de agua with his mamí.
But, mamí didn’t raise no quitter! On a particularly busy birthday, Wiles pulled together a modest little cake for Rio. She burst into tears seeing the shaky ‘!Feliz Cumple!’ written in too-sweet icing.
Calling Earth-42 a wreck is a massive understatement. Shit’s like Gotham, only very real and very deadly. Just breathing in that damn city air makes Wiles’ skin crawl.
Luckily, he’s got an outlet: boxing. A fun hobby he picked up from Uncle Aaron became his release. Wiles might never be in the ring, but Brooklyn’s more than enough.
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a/n #2: what the fuck. this was supposed to be short and silly and fun. exsqueeze me how did this… erm. disjointed mess.
378 notes · View notes
loaksky · 2 years
Text
— 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦
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the lowdown — the one where neteyam screws up and he notices the distance between you.
the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader
the word count — 1.6k
the tags and warnings — a lil angst (i must be a masochist), hurt / comfort, fluff. 
the notes — based off of this request! 
masterlist
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The pressure on Neteyam’s shoulders makes him tense. 
He’d been thrown task after task, whiplash impending as villagers and clanspeople called his name left and right for assistance with responsibilities both great and menial. 
It was a day he cleared to spend time alone, too immersed in playing the threads that held the clan together. But from morning eclipse to now, as the forest is shrouding in darkness, the duty of being a diligent leader-in-training weighs heavy like an anchor. 
He breathes a sigh of relief when he finally settles near a stream, feet in the water as he leans back on both hands and basks in the natural soundscape of the abundant jungle. 
It’s short-lived though, his eyes closing in defeat when he hears someone calling his name. 
“Neteyam?” It’s you, his lover, his star that shines so bright. “Teyam?” 
He stills, hoping the quiet rush of the stream’s waters will blanket his breathing. 
You come poking out of the brush anyways, excited when you see your partner for the first time since last night’s eclipse. 
You kneel behind him, arms coming around his neck as you lean over his shoulder and start planting kisses against his cheek and jaw. 
“Missed you,” you admit, pressing your face again his. “Today was so exciting, you won’t believe what…” 
He’s tuning you out, a heavy sigh blowing past his lips as your voice projects and seems to fill the space. You chatter, and you chatter, and you chatter a mile a minute as you rehash your entire day. 
You’re only excited, still caught up in the throes of your extended honeymoon phase, but Neteyam, quite frankly, is fed up. 
“For once just stop,” he says sharply, and your babbling dies down. 
“Hm?” you hum, hand coming to tuck one of his braids behind his ear.
“Just stop talking, please,” he says firmly. “You’re being noisy and I just want a single moment of peace.” 
Your hold around his neck loosens and he lets out another deep sigh when he feels you settle behind him, opting to brush your fingers across the upper expanse of his back. You’re trying to work out the knots in his shoulders, but he’s grabbing your hand to stop you. 
“Alone,” he reiterates. 
He doesn’t see the way your face falls, the way a flutter of insecurity shutters over your softened expression. He just feels you withdraw, fingers slipping from his grasp as the grass rustles and you stand to your feet. 
He expects you to bid him a farewell, but by the time he’s craning his neck over his shoulder, you’re disappearing back into the brush where you came from. 
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Neteyam seems to sleep the weariness off, that much is clear when he takes a seat next to you the following morning for the first meal and kisses your temple. It sits with you, though, that gutting feeling that maybe Neteyam has underlying feelings that you overlook. 
“Sleep okay?” he asks you, flashing you a small smile as he brushes loose hair over your shoulder to see your profile better. 
You nod despite the lie. Truthfully you had barely slept at all, wracking your brain for signs you missed, moments you spent being overbearing. It still haunts you now as you pick through the fruits and grains on your plate, focusing extra hard. 
“The next batch of warriors will be attempting their rite soon,” he says, biting into a chunk of dried meat. “After everything is said and done…” 
You can’t help but wonder if he’s always felt that way. If every moment with you drains him and he’s just good at keeping up the facade. 
“My love?” Neteyam calls gently, pulling you from your trance. 
You look up at him with wide eyes. 
“Yes?” Your voice cracks, hoarse as you clear your throat.
His brow bone twitches as he seems to search your face. 
“Everything alright?” 
You nod again. 
“Yeah,” you affirm. “All good.” 
But things are not all good, Neteyam comes to realize after a few lonely eclipses. You hadn’t met him at your spot near the waterfalls for evening swims and as he kicks stones on the way back to the camp, he tries to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.
When it hits him, he feels so stupid, freezing in the middle of the buzzing forest. 
“Oh, ________,” he whispers to himself, padding quickly through the grass. 
It isn’t hard to find you, reclined in a hammock, reading a book some of the lab guys had lent to the village for practice. 
As he closes in on you, things seem fine, but he knows better. He knows his sweet girl better than to leave things unsaid. 
You finally look up when your hammock begins to sway with Neteyam’s gradual weight. When he settles in across from you, pulling your smooth legs over his, he speaks. 
“Where have you been, my love?” he tests, fingers absently toying with the threads fastened around your ankle. 
“Here,” you say simply, turning your attention back to the book to flip the page. 
“You didn’t meet me at the waterfall,” he presses, fingertips skimming over your calves. 
“There were many tasks in the village today,” you reply. “I wanted to rest.” 
A prolonged silence envelops you as you continue reading, leaving Neteyam to filter through his thoughts. 
“Can we talk?” he asks, delicately pulling the book from your grasp to draw your attention. 
You blink at him with round eyes and his heart squeezes in his chest. How could he say something like that to someone like you, always so tender and gentle. 
“I want to apologize,” he says, leaning forward to capture your hands in his. “About that night near the stream.”
Your expression doesn’t falter, you just continue to watch him quietly as he mulls over the words. 
“I was really overwhelmed and I took it out on you,” he says, thumb brushing over azure skin. 
“S’okay,” you say softly, smiling at him lightly. “I’m sorry for being annoying.” 
Neteyam’s gaze softens.
“You could never be annoying,” he says, hand coming up to stroke your cheek. “I like when you’re happy and you tell me about your day. I like being with you.” 
He’s pulling you into him so that you rest on his chest, hand coming up to smooth the hair on the back of your head. 
Neteyam doesn’t notice that the smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes as his voice rumbles in his chest.
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You had him fooled for a while, that things were okay between the two of you, but Neteyam was learning to read you. Knew your little tics and nuances. 
You wanted to shake that night, wanted to fall into him again, but it was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched, an ache that couldn’t be soothed. 
You were so in your head that you hadn’t even realized that others were starting to notice, too. Murmurs that there could be trouble in paradise. 
You were starting to read more, blowing through the books in the lab. Anything to take your mind off the burn. You were too busy trying to preserve the peace, of trying to find comfort in your own, that you don’t notice that Neteyam is growing restless. 
It’s another missed meet up when he finally decides that enough is enough. 
When he doesn’t find you in your hammock, his brows furrow, shaky breath blowing past his lips. 
The village hasn’t seen much of you either if his unanswered inquiries are anything to go by. So he follows his gut, searching the ins and outs of the camp for you. Every empty space is added stress, but he tries one last place. 
And of course you’d be there, the place that started it all, fingers skimming the surface of the water as you watch the creatures in the water swim happily. 
“My love,” Neteyam says quietly. 
You ministrations on the water ceases. 
“Hm?” you hum, eyes still glued to a particularly luminescent fish. 
“Look at me.”
You don’t realize how close he’s gotten until you hear him right behind you. When you turn your gaze skywards to meet his eyes, you see the worry etched into his features. 
“Are you alright?” you ask, standing to your feet. 
“I should be asking you,” he replies, hands cupping each side of your neck to coax you to look up at him. 
“I’m fine,” you assure him, unable to meet his gaze. 
“________,” he urges. 
At the sound of your full name, you melt like putty in his hands, eyes squeezing shut in embarrassment. 
“It’s stupid,” you whisper. 
“Talk to me,” he implores. 
You look like you’re chewing on the words, like they want to come out but you’re wrestling with them. When his thumb brushes your jaw like a silent okay, you crumble. 
“Just wanted to give you space,” you mumble.
Neteyam looks wounded.
“Why would you–“ 
“You have many duties to the clan,” you reason quietly “I don’t want to add to it.” 
“Is this about what I said the other night?” he asks fearfully. 
Your silence is answer enough and he crushes you in his arms like you’ll float away. Something tingles in your nose, like you could cry, so you push your face into the smooth planes of his chest. 
“I was being thoughtless,” he says, voice like a roll of thunder behind his ribcage. “You are the highlight of my days, my first and last thought, do you hear me?” 
You mumble something and Neteyam nudges you away gently so that he can look into your eyes. 
“I wouldn’t trade you, change you, for anything,” he says. “Mark my words.” 
You nod, but the gesture is not enough. 
“Are we understood, my love?” he iterates. 
A smile plays at your lips as you nod again. 
“Understood.” 
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neng © 2023
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taglist: @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn , @fanboyluvr, @neteyamoa , @itssiaaax
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muffinrecord · 4 months
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Current Plans + Musings
I don't plan on playing Exedra to the degree I did for Magia Record, or playing it at all. Because of that, I won't be taking an active role in the community and archiving anything for it. Of course, if Exedra has like amazing gameplay and stories then this is all subject to change, but for now I think I'm done with phone games.
The two youtube channels will stay up and I'll check em periodically to make sure there aren't copyright strikes against the content. I've saved all my raw files, especially for the battle animations, so I can remake them in the future if the music ever becomes a problem for some reason.
Google Drive will stay up until Google rots away. I haven't recorded footage in a long time (as in stories, I do for the character doppels and such), but I'll upload things if they're sent to me.
Magia Union Translations still plans on translating things and making videos, especially leading up to the end, but also for after the game is over for whatever wasn't made in time. I'm not sure what form this will take in the future-- if it'll be manual captions added to the videos or not, but I know it WILL happen.
As for this blog, I'm not going to delete it or anything. However I'm going to be taking a step back. I'd like to say that I'll do liveblogs but I mean... *gestures at blog* I've been saying that for years and the only one I really did successfully was the Oriko one lmao. Ahhh oh well.
I'll have more words later, but it was really fun to be part of a fandom experience like this. I'm excited to work on my own original story projects though and quiet down a bit.
...
When I started this blog, I never expected it to have people actually read it. Or look at it. I just wanted a place to gush about how much fun I was having. I didn't even want to tag the posts with "Magia Record" at first because I was terrified people would be mean at me, haha.
But I'm glad I did. I made so many good friends through this game. I'm glad it existed. And it made me happy to have a place where people cared about what I had to say. Some folks actually got their news from here, can you imagine that? They had notifications turned on for this blog. My god.
Anyways, I'm going to be here for the next two months, and tomorrow I'll start reblogging fan projects and initiatives, plus general news. Maybe this blog will turn into a dumping site for art and fanfic reblogs, who knows. I might watch the remaining stuff and add various thoughts here and there.
Otherwise, you can find me on my main blog @malignmuffin, which only reblogs stuff (I don't talk much if at all there). I have another tumblr blog for my comic, but I think I'll reshare the name once I actually have content you can look at on it. It's pretty bare bones for the moment.
Actually it'll be funny if the end of this game is what makes me finally work on it again. I was in the process of working on it when NA came out, and it totally derailed me. Stopped writing, drawing, just focused on this silly little phone game. Now it's like those five years have gone by and I'm going back to where I started, except I think my lil comic is going to be a bit better than it was before. If I actually make it, that is.
If I ever do actually make my comic and start posting it, I'll be sure to update y'all here. hah
Anyways, thanks for being on this wild ride with me. The memories have been great, and I'm glad I had this experience, even if it had to end.
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japhoriaa · 11 months
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# EVERYTHING
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☁︎ he cheated, & you lost everything.
pairings ; 1610 or 42 miles x black!fem!r
warning(s) ; cursing , black reader , "violence", mention(s) of blood.
genre ; maybe angst?
a / n ; somethin off the top cause im feelin a lil uugh, today. if i said this isnt a rant in the form of a fic then i'd be lying.
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he had played you.
played the fuck outta you. all the "i love you"'s , meant fucking nothing. it was like everything that could go wrong in your relationship, was.
first it was the arguments,
then, it was the constant silent treatment,
then, the blocking on social media,
and finally you caught him. all hugged up with some bitch on his instagram. "are you fucking kidding me miles?! who even is this bitch!!"
"man.. ma its just my fri-" -- "no! dont start with that bull miles, tell me the truth bro." you yelled. your voice cracking whilst tears pooled in your eyes.
you were crying,
not only because you were sad, but because you were angry. fucking fuming if you will.
you couldnt believe he would cheat on you after everything. he'd met your parents, your cousins, your whole family, & they all loved him. but not like you loved him.. not even close. "aww, ladybug, its okay." your mother coo'd as she held you.
but it wasnt ok. he cheated on you, and then lied- straight to your face.. you couldnt even be mad anymore, all you could do was cry, and cry. "y/n don't cry, he's a jerk."
is all they could say. but how were you supposed to not cry? he cheated, with her. you figured it would happen one day but now? you'd always been second to her, your whole life.
projects , dance , everything.
you were fucking sick of it.
so here you were. sitting in the principal's office, with a trail of blood running from your nose.
"y/n , your mom's here to pick you up." the lady in the front office spoke. you grabbed your belongings and walked past her.
already knowing you were in for an earful when you got home.
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gadriezmannsgirl · 2 years
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Sister's Best Friend -P.G
I have been dreaming a lot of doing Latina!Reader, I am a bit afraid tho, because I don't know if you guys will like this. I made this with a Venezuelan!Reader in mind, since there aren't a lot of fics of venezuelans!reader, I always see mexican, argentinian, colombian, brazilian (american and european as well) and I wanted to give this a try.
It isn't too much tho, I just put reader a nationality and played with her accent, maybe in the future go in deeper with Gavi's reaction of having a Latina girlfriend. Hope you guys like it! I would appreciate if you leave some feedback!
This is a bit shitty
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Summary: You're Aurora's best friend and Gavi is crazy for you
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It all had started when Aurora invited you over at her house for a college project. It wasn't the first time Aurora invited you over. But it was the first time Gavi was around.
Gavi was crazy to meet you mostly because nine out of ten times, his sister and parents were talking about you and stories the fourth of you had shared. Gavi's not gonna lie, he felt desplazed for a bit.
You having inside jokes with his family, made him want to get to know you and see what's the fuss about. He was confused, he knew and get along with all of his sister's friends. You must have been someone knew.
And you were.
Aurora confirmed his suspicion when he suddenly asked who you were.
"She's the new girl on college I talked about" She replied "Se nota que me escuchas cuando hablo" (It shows you do listen to me when I speak) Aurora complained
"Ajá... ¿Y?" Gavi rolled his eyes a bit ignoring his sister statement "¿Qué más?"
"She's new here, in general. She comes from Venezuela, moved in ten months ago, she has been my friend ever since I met her, she's so cool, Pablito. You'll like her"
"Yeah? Sure" Gavi raised his eyebrows and walked away
And that's how we came into the meeting day. You were laughing with Belén, Aurora's mother about a funny anecdote it happened to you while younger back home.
"Y naguará, no" You covered your face with your hands while Aurora and her mom laughed "I can't..." You were blushing of embarassement a bit when you heard footsteps
"Mamá, que-" Gavi had came in, just in a Barcelona shorts and a white shirt, his phone in his hand as he stared at you with wide eyes
You shut your mouth, looking at the boy as well with a light smile on, meanwhile his face was covered with a frown
"Hi" You had said shyly waving and Gavi swore he had never heard something more angelic than your voice
"Pablito!" Aurora exclaimed coming over to you and hug you "She's Y/N Y/L/N. My new best friend!" She squeezed you making you smile and hug her back "Y/N/N, this is my lil bro, Pablo"
"Un placer" You said extending your hand to him
He quickly got a hold of himself, grabbing your hand and stepping forward to give you two kisses on each cheek, his other hand rested lightly on your waist
"Igualmente" (Likewise) He had said with a smirk "Aurora doesn't stop talking about you, I'm happy I finally got to met the amazing Y/N" You blushed
"Thank you. I can say the same thing, you know... I think I already knew you before meeting you" He laughed
"Sólo le dije como te orinaste los pantalones en tercer grado" (I just told her how you peed your pants in third grade)
"Sabemos que jamás hice tal cosa... No en tercer grado por lo menos" (We know I never did such a thing... Not in third grade at least) He said making the three of you laugh
"In second grade too, right?"
"Oh c'mon, girl. Leave your brother alone and let's go do the project. I feel like it's going to be demasiado largo para nuestro gusto, so ¡vamonos!" You grabbed her shoulders and pushed her into her room
"¡Y/N!" Pablo called you before you could dissapear from the room
"What?" You turned around
"You like Doritos?" You nod several times "I'll take you some in a few" He smiled and you smiled back at him
"Gracias" You said softly
"There are no Doritos for me?" Aurora asked in disbelief
"There are" He said "But you have to look them for yourself, I won't bring you anything" Pablo replied as if it was the most obvious thing ever causing you to laugh
"Why?!" She asked as you pushed her onto her room
"Because she's pretty!" He said from downstairs as you stood there impressed and Aurora laughed at your shocked expression
And that was the beggining of you and Gavi.
You couldn't lie, el chamo was truly beautiful, he always took up on making you laugh and chatting with you about anything. Mostly of your life, he wanted to get to know you and everytime you tried to bring the convo onto him, he'd answer your questions but eventually turn it around to you, ending into telling him stories from your time in Venezuela, what you did as little and going as far to ask for your Uni stuffs even if he doesn't understand anything about Statistics
"La malta con una empanada de carne mechada y con salsa de ajo es lo mejor de la vida... Y ni hablemos de la arepa con suero" (Malta with a shredded meat empanada and garlic sauce is the best thing in life... And let's not talk about the arepa with whey) You always tell him making a smile appear on his face
He has been spending every time possible off with you, he even stole your phone number from Aurora's phone, winning a smack from his sister and watching you give a little pinch on Aurora's arm
"¡Ow, bruja!"
"Let him" You had said smiling
Because yes, you were also gone for your best's friend's brother, but you couldn't help it. It has been four months since you've met Pablo and they were the best four months ever.
Aurora often liked to make fun of the two of you, obviously into each other but not making any move. Instead of being mad, she definitely liked the idea of you dating her little brother.
You ignore her comments, even tho he gave you the impression, you didn't know if he liked you back. And you weren't going to make things awkward in between the two and currently three of you because of that.
You were chatting with Aurora and some of Pablo friends like Pedri, Ansu, they have came from training and all decided to spend a nice evening and also two of Pablo's childhood friends, meanwhile you were studying and chatting around with Aurora.
You laughed at something Ansu had said
"¿Qué? Mano, ¿Que webona' es esa, ah? La coña 'ta burda e' loca, 'sie carajo" (What? Bro, what the hell is that, eh? The girl is out of this world, fucking hell) You reply shaking your head
"For real, Y/N!"
"Pero explica bien la vaina, que fue lo que pasó. Pasito a pasito" (But you've got to explain yourself properly, everything that happened. Step by step)
"¿Suave, suavecito?" One of Pablo's friends, Diego, chimmed getting a smile out of you
"Well, I didn't say it with that purpose but it does go well" The guys laughed.
As Ansu started telling once more from the beggining his story with this girl, you felt an arm wrap around you waist and the other under your knees.
You turned your head to the side and looked to find Pablo, lifting you from your spot that was next to his, to pull you right next to him, without any kind of space. He also grabbed the chair and pulled it closer to him.
"Why?" That's all you asked softly
"You were too far away" Pablo replied audible enough for the two of you, you blushed and leaned a bit into him.
You kept on listening Ansu, the guys sharing your statement and telling him it was the best if he left her.
"Y/N/N" Aurora called for you "Go and bring us some snacks?"
"This isn't my house" You replied.
"Of course it is! Just go inside and grab some snacks for us to eat"
"Why don't you just go?" You ask "I'm way too comfortable here"
"You're younger!" She exclaims as you roll your eyes, standing up
"I'll come with you" Pablo said "I can help you with the drinks"
Both of you entered the house, you went to grab the snacks as Pablo grabbed a Coca-Cola and a few vases, when his phone dinged.
"Aurora asks if you can do the bread and Nutella thing" He asks as you sigh
"Tú hermana jode mucho a veces" (Your sister is annoying sometimes) You said making Gavi laugh.
You went to look for the bread and the Nutella, cutting them and filling them up with the cacao. You were done with your job but you filled a spoon full of Nutella
"¿Quieres?" (Want some?) You offered him a light smile as he shook his head
"Cómelo tú" He smiled putting the Nutella away and helping you clean the little utensils you used.
Once you were done, you washed the spoon and faced Gavi only for him to laugh a little
"Please don't tell me I have chocolate all over my face" You begged covering your mouth with your hand
"Only here" He pointed at his lips the place
"Here?" He shook his head "Here?" He shook his head once more "Here?" He shook his head "Ajá, ¿Y en dónde es la vaina pues?" (And where's the thing then?) You ask making him laugh
"Can I?" You nod watching him step closer to you, he lifted one of his hand in your cheek lightly, caressing it with his thumb, your eyes locked with his.
His other hand came up to your face as well with this one, he swept his thumb over your bottom lip "Done" He whispered licking his thumb quickly.
But none of you bothered to move away from the other, instead you keep leaning in "Can I?" Pablo asked once more this time with different meaning.
You smiled and nodding soon you feel his lips locking yours in a kiss.
"You taste like cacao" He whispered above your lips and pecking them several times, you laughed looking down at the floor but felt how Gavi's hands lifted your head making you look at him once more "I loved that"
You smiled, this time leaning up to kiss him wrapping your arms around his torso
"You don't know how much I wanted to do this ever since I met you" He whispered once more in between kisses
"Glad to know feeling was mutual" You giggled
"Go out on a date with me?" Kiss "Please"
"Joder, claro que sí" You kissed him once more
"¡Ay, Ave María purísima!" You heard someone say instantly separating from each other. Aurora was standing there with a big smile on "First kissing picture, I love it!" She said excited "Took you long guys!" She said coming over and grabbing the Coca-Cola, the bread and the snacks. "Leave you guys alone to keep doing your thing" she winked
"That was awkward" You murmur feeling Pablo smile and nod
"So.... When are you free?"
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@gaviypedrisbride
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awearywritersworld · 2 years
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A misunderstanding makes you feel insecure.
Haikyu x Reader w/c: 1.4k // 1.1k warnings: just a lil angst, but fluffy endings. a/n: back on my haikyu bullshit bc life is tough rn and i needed something pure and wholesome. post!timeskip, hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader characters: Tsukishima Kei // Kuroo Tetsuro
masterlist
Tsukishima Kei
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When Tsukishima first met you in university, he had taken notice of you, though you didn’t really start talking until you were paired for a research assignment. While he was just a tad nervous when you invited him to your apartment to work on it, he didn’t mind as you lived nearby.
An observant person, Tsukishima soon took note of your little quirks, many of which he silently regards as endearing. Your eyes would widen, sparkling with interest as you stumbled upon new articles and discoveries during your research. You always brewed a fresh pot of tea and grabbed something extra at the bakery when you knew he was coming over.
When he told you he plays volleyball for the Sendai Frogs, he was taken aback by how interested you seemed. He informed you about his position and that he started playing because of his older brother. Pink dusted his cheeks when you asked if you could attend his next match, which he agreed to. During the match, a few of his teammates gave him nudges and sly smirks. "You just seem really into the game today, Tsukishima-kun."
Your friendship persisted even after your project had been turned in, and while Tsukki was surprised, he also found that he was relieved. He enjoyed your company, after all. The thought of parting ways with you made his heart skip a beat like some lovesick teenager.
Toward the end of the semester, you're approaching the lecture hall you share with Tsukishima when you spot him talking to one of your classmates, a girl. The sight makes your stomach flip and you freeze, watching their interaction from afar.
"I just wanted to give you this, Tsukishima-kun," she begins nervously, handing him a box of sweets wrapped in pink paper.
"Oh, thanks." His tone is unexpressive as ever.
"You play volleyball, right? Maybe I could come to watch you sometime!"
She's barely finished speaking before he responds, "sorry, but I don't really like having people come to my games. You know, focus and all..."
He trails off and she tries her best to recover. "O-Okay! No problem! I'll see you around."
She scurries away and you can just barely hear him grumble something about annoying admirers and wanting to be left alone. You realize you stopped breathing at some point and all you can think while you harshly exhale is 'oh, god.'
Over the past few months, you had certainly developed a crush on Tsukishima. You feel awful about having gone to quite a few of his games when, evidently, he must have found it irritating. You're staring into nothing with wide eyes when you hear your name being called.
Your head snaps in the direction it came from and your gaze meets Tsukishima's as he approaches you. He greets you as he usually does and you stutter out a reply. Walking into the classroom together, he's squinting at you out of the corner of his eye. It's clear to him that something is up.
"You okay?" he asks as you both slide into your usual seat beside one another.
"Of course!"
That's how the next few days pass--- he knows something is wrong and you pretend that everything is fine. You're quieter than usual and you haven't invited him to hang out at all. Since you're typically the one to take initiative, Tsukishima is left feeling a little lost.
When you don't come to his next game, he finally decides he's going to have to figure out how to resolve whatever is going on. It's already dark outside by the time the team finishes, but he still heads in the direction of your apartment.
With each step, he wracks his mind trying to figure out what the hell he's even going to even say. Did he do something wrong? Have you grown tired of him and his cynicism?
Standing in front of your apartment door, it occurs to him that you might not even be home. He knocks apprehensively and the door swings open a few moments later.
"Tsukki!" you squeak out.
You're in your pajamas, a sight he's never seen before, and it makes his mind go blank. He tries desperately to keep his eyes from trailing down to your thin top and flannel shorts.
"Can I come in?" he finally asks.
"S-sure!" you step aside. "I'll go get some tea started."
He can't help but smile as you hurry off, thinking you might be the cutest person he's ever met. Instead of making his way to the couch, he leans against the doorframe to the kitchen. "Do you need a hand?"
"That's alright, it'll just be a few minutes," you say, reaching up to a high shelf for a tin of tea leaves.
He's behind you in an instant, his body pressed to your back as he grabs the one he knows is your favorite. "This one, right?"
"Yeah, thanks!"
Shocked your voice doesn't betray you, your heart is now hammering in your chest with impossible force. He's still close behind you as he sets it down on the counter. Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he takes a step back.
Once you finish filling the kettle, he speaks up. "Is it okay if I ask you something?"
Setting it down on the stove and turning on the burner, you turn to give him your full attention. "Always."
The way you look up at him expectantly makes him swallow and clear his throat. "I was wondering if everything is okay?"
"What do you mean, Tsukki?"
"Um, you just haven't seemed like yourself the past few days."
He hopes his vague answer is enough, but you tilt your head to the side. "How so?"
If he didn't know any better, he'd think you were trying to torture him.
"Well, you've been less talkative," he nearly winces at how pitiful he sounds. "And then when you didn't come to my game tonight..."
He can't think of what else to say, cursing the way his cheeks heat up. You hardly notice though, too caught up in your own embarrassment and avoiding his eye.
"Oh, that!" you laugh nervously. "You see, I may have... overheard you talking to our one classmates the other day..."
The look on his face tells you he has no idea what you're referring to.
"She gave you a gift a-and asked to come to see you play, but you told her you didn't like when people came to your games." You're talking very quickly by this point. "I-I didn't want to annoy you-"
Tsukishima's eyes nearly pop out of his head in disbelief and he starts to laugh at the situation, but you think he's laughing at you. At first, he fails to notice that tears have begun to slip down your cheeks.
"I'm sorry Tsukki," you apologize, lip quivering.
That gets his attention right away, a look of horror taking over his features.
"No, no, no! I wasn't- I didn't mean to laugh!" His words are jumbled and he tries his best to slow them. "It's just that you're not people, you're... you."
"Oh," you say while wiping at your eyes, not quite yet processing the meaning behind his words.
You still seem so sad and it tugs at Tsukishima's chest, making him panic.
"I like you!" he blurts out and your watery eyes dart up toward his face. "I'm sorry, I thought I was more obvious about it than I was. I-I missed seeing you in the stands tonight and talking to you in class and coming over afterward and-"
He keeps rambling on and you think it might be the longest you'd ever heard the usually very matter-of-fact man speak for. He only stops when you start to giggle, your hand covering your mouth in an attempt to hide it.
The kettle suddenly whistles, breaking any sort of tension that might have lingered between the two of you. You swiftly remove it from the heat before turning back to him.
"I like you, too, Tsukki."
He breathes a sigh of relief, eyes flicking between each of your own. His honesty just moments ago has him surprised and while he'd usually be uncomfortable in a situation like this, oddly enough, he's not.
There's a ghost of a smile adorning his face and he spends a second just looking at you. 'You're... you,' he considers his words from earlier and knows that this is what he meant. You're different from most people. You make him feel at ease.
"You should call me Kei," he states simply, before moving to prepare the tea just the way he knows you like it.
Kuroo Tetsuro
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One afternoon, Kuroo stopped by the coffee shop across from his office building downtown. Pulling the door open, he caught the reflection of a person around his age in the glass. As he moved so that he could hold it open for you, you thanked him with a small smile.
You caught his attention, dressed for some seemingly important job, your hair just a touch messy, but in a way that looked good. While you waited in line, he asked you about your day and his charming small talk left you a blushing mess.
You were in front of him in line, but once you finished telling the barista what you wanted, he stepped up to add his own drink to the order. "On me, of course."
Two years later, you're living together in a cozy apartment and you couldn't be happier. Kuroo is everything you could ever ask for--- charismatic, reliable, thoughtful. It was even his idea that the two of you go out for dinner after work every Thursday.
So when that day of the week finally rolls around, you finish your tasks for the day and head over to his nearby office to meet up. You get off the elevator on his floor and make your way down the hallway, noticing his door is open a few inches. You stop once you hear voices inside.
“Isn’t it hard having a partner, though? I mean, always having someone around, not being able to relax and do your own thing.”
The voice is unfamiliar and your head tilts to the side as you listen.
Your boyfriend chuckles, hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “I suppose they can be a lot sometimes.” 
Inwardly, Kuroo reflects on your late-night bouts of energy when he’s half asleep, your ramblings about the newest show you’ve been watching (he truly does try his hardest to keep up), your habit of constantly asking him for reassurance even though you’re so far out of his league it’s unreal. 
You can’t see the fond smile that bashfully plays on his lips or hear the thoughts running through his mind. Left with just his words alone, you deflate as you’re overcome by embarrassment. 'Well, he's not wrong,' you think.
“Then what’s the point?” the other person wonders.
You can’t bear to hear Kuroo's answer, so you move away from the door and attempt to swallow the lump in your throat. The fact that you’re about to burst into tears at his work, of all places, is probably why he thinks the way he does. A humorless laugh passes your lips as you berate yourself. You dip into the bathroom and force yourself to take a few deep breaths before anyone can see you.
If only you had waited a few moments longer, you would have heard Kuroo's response. "I figured out pretty quickly they could be a handful sometimes, but it's part of what made me love them, you know?"
"No, gross. Don't go all sappy on me, senpai," the young intern rolls his eyes.
It just makes Kuroo laugh, "you asked! Now get out of my office and go tell them you'd love to get dinner with them tonight."
The intern grumbles as he leaves, but Kuroo doesn't miss the grin tugging at his lips. "After you finish your work for the day, of course," the older man hollers from his seat.
Finally having composed yourself, you exit the bathroom, passing the intern and greeting him politely.
You knock once you reach the door to Kuroo's office and his eyes light up, "hey, sweetheart!"
His tie has already been loosened for the evening and his hair is a bit disheveled.
"Hey, Tetsu," you say sheepishly. Even now, he still makes your stomach flutter.
"I just need a few minutes to finish this up," he informs.
"Sure, take your time!"
You try your best to make your voice sound bright and move to take a seat on the couch that's tucked against the wall. Kuroo returns his attention to the computer, but he quickly realizes you're quiet. Weirdly quiet. He peeks over at you and you're just sitting there on your phone with a blank expression.
The soft clicking of his keyboard stops. He says your name and you hum in acknowledgment. "What's on your mind?"
You glance over to find that he's looking at you, his body leaning over his desk in your direction. The expression he wears is a gentle one. His obvious concern and the fact he's already picked up on your vexation are enough to arouse the emotions you'd hopelessly tried to bury earlier. In an attempt to hide your tears, you avert your eyes. The action immediately has Kuroo rising from his seat.
"Hey, hey, hey," he frets, sitting beside you and putting a hand on your knee. "Look at me, what happened?"
The sight of you like this makes his heart squeeze tightly in his chest and when you finally turn to him, his eyes are burning with worry.
"It's nothing, it's dumb," you dismiss, waving your hand.
"Sweetheart, don't say that. Something's got you all worked up." He brushes your hair behind your ear. "Talk to me."
"I-I'm sorry" you choke out.
"There's no reason to be-"
"I know I can be a lot sometimes," you add, wiping at your nose with your sleeve.
Realization and guilt descend upon him in tandem. "You heard-"
"Only some of it!" you clarify before he finishes, "I-I didn't mean to listen in on you, I just-"
He boops your nose, making your words stop in your throat. "You just didn't stay and listen to the part where I told him you it's what makes me love you so much."
He's got a little grin on his face, refraining (with some difficulty) from calling you a dork.
"You said that?"
He hums, "of course I did."
A moment passes and he can sense you're still feeling unsure of yourself, so he continues. "I can be passive and a bit... emotionally closed off at times. It makes me admire how expressive you are and how strongly you react to things, both good and bad."
Touched by his words, you feel all your anxiety ebb away, replaced by a warm feeling in the center of your chest. "Then you'll be happy to know that is perhaps the sweetest thing anyone has ever said and it makes my heart want to explode."
"Ah, see! There it is!" he beams and stands up, offering you his hand.
Once you rise to your feet, he places a kiss firmly on your temple.
"Alright, the rest of this can wait," he decides as he grabs his bag, turns off his computer, and slips his fingers through your own. "I'm all yours."
2K notes · View notes
gummydummy19 · 9 months
Note
Hi Gummy!<3
You shared that awful experience and I imagine...
Captain Sy and his insubordinate younger brother. His brother (let's say, Jim?) flirted with you in a pub. You don't really spark and he seemed a bit too slick for your liking, but Jim is persistent and (gradually annoying). It was not long before Captain Sy came barging in and took his younger brother home (and surprise surprise, Jim isn't reaching his drinking age yet XD), which is how you met. Maybe you met him again a few days later in the same pub, maybe you worked on a project that involves the military (hence Sy)
And somehow one of the worst encounters you have had in your life turns out to be the one in which you met the love of your life :3
Just a lil thot :3
JDHDKHCB JAM WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE THE BEST IDEAS I absolutely freaking love this oml
How I met your mother
Content Warnings: fluff, swearing, unwanted flirting (from Sy's brother)
Word Count: 1.9k+
A/N: Since we're in the middle of the holidays, I decided to give this a little holiday twist :)) Imagine this as a throwback to how you met your hunky husband Sy... In the throwback Jim is 19, Sy is 27, and the reader is 23. In the present Sy is 42, reader is 38, Jim is 34.
Alright? All clear? Everyone good? Let's get this party started then
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The entire family was gathered around your beautifully decorated dining table. It was well past midnight, and everyone was stuffed full of delicious food and the expensive wine you saved for special occasions. Sy had his hand resting on your thigh as you both listened to his dad share stories of when he was in the Navy.
"Fuck!" you heard your 13-year-old son yell from the couch behind you, waking up your 9-year-old daughter who was dozing off on her dad's lap.
"Jacob!" you snapped your head back at him, but the boy just rolled his eyes at you.
He was playing some new zombie-murder-call thievery videogame he had gotten for Christmas, courtesy of his uncle Jim.
"Don't you roll your eyes at your mother", Sy stepped in, "and watch your mouth, or that game is going on the shelf till summer."
"But dad!" he whined
"No buts!"
Now it was your turn to put your hand on your husband's thigh, giving him a sweet look to let him know you'd handle it.
"Jake, why don't you come sit with us for a little bit, hmm? Haven't you played long enough?"
"Oh come on, let the kid have some fun", Jim chimed in, earning an angry glare from his brother Sy.
"Yeah and who better to teach him that than his uncle Jim, right?" Sy spat.
"What's that supposed to mean?", Jim shot back.
"You know damn well what that means."
"Dad?" your little girl tugged on Sy's shirt.
"Yes, princess?"
"Don't you think Uncle Jim is fun?"
"Of course I do, Maya, it's just that Uncle Jim used to give us a whole lot of trouble, just like your brother gives us right now."
"Hey!" Jim and Jacob groan simultaneously.
"Oh, I think Jim caused quite some more trouble than our Jakey", you defended your son, who had finally sat down next to you at the table. You gave him a loving ruffle through his brown curls, remembering what Sy's hair used to look like before he started buzzing it off.
"Yeah well, give him a couple years", Jim joked.
"What kinda trouble did Uncle Jim get into?", your little girl chimed in again.
The three of you exchanged some looks before you finally spoke up. "Oh, I can think of a few things, but my favorite one is the story of how your father and I met", you smiled.
"Oh god", Jim groaned, "Can't you just tell them about the pranks I pulled in college or something?"
"No no", Sy chuckled, "I quite like this particular story".
"I love storytime!" your daughter yelled out excitedly.
"I'm kinda intrigued now too," Jake agreed, grinning at his uncle.
Sy's mother gave her husband a look as she sipped from her herb tea and you knew she loved this story too.
"It was 15 years ago", you started, "Me and my friends had just graduated college that summer. By wintertime, a couple of us had started working, or even gotten married, so we decided to catch up right before the holidays"
Flashback
"I can't believe it's almost been six whole months since we've all gotten together" your friend Sarah chided before taking a sip of her cosmo. “I know, I’ve missed you guys like crazy!” You said honestly. The five of you sat there and talked for what felt like hours, sipping on cosmo’s and sharing the juiciest stories from work or dating drama. It was like no time had passed at all.
“Alright girls, I’m gonna go get another refill anyone else need anything?”, you asked as you got up to walk towards the bar. The drinks were definitely starting to get to your head, but you didn’t care in the slightest. This was the most fun you’d had in weeks.
With a fuzzy head, you made your way over to the bar, still giggling at a joke your friend made 10 minutes ago. Leaning against the polished wood, you managed to catch the bartender's attention. "Um, two... wait, no, three more of these," you mumbled in your slightly tipsy state as you shoved your empty glass toward him.
You were patiently waiting for your drinks when a young, arrogant-looking guy slid up next to you, "Hey there! What are we drinking tonight?" he asked and you rolled your eyes.
"Just a couple drinks with my friends" you replied curtly, avoiding eye contact with him.
"Just you and your girls, huh? No boyfriend?"
"Nope."
"Are you looking for one?"
"Nope."
"Hmm I see, more a hit and run kinda gal, huh?" he smirked.
Damn, this guy was annoying.
"Look pal, I'm trying to have a good time with my girls, alright?" You finally turned to look at him. He sure wasn't ugly, but not your type. Besides, he looked a little on the young side you thought and you started to wonder if he should even be in here.
"That's alright baby, I'm all for good times", he stated with a proud grin, making you roll your eyes again.
The bartender slid over your drinks and grabbed them quickly "I'm not your 'baby', now if you will excuse me", you pushed passed him but his hand gently grabbed onto your waist.
"Oh come on, don't be like that...", if your hands hadn't been full you would have smacked him in the face for sure. You looked down at his hands on you and then straight into his eyes.
"You have about two seconds to get your hands off me before you get covered in Cosmo's and my knee introduces itself to your crotch."
"I just-" he started and you got ready to throw your 30 dollars worth of cocktails in his face.
"JIM!", a loud roar sounded through the bar, grabbing everyone's attention, including yours and the guy holding onto you.
He quickly dropped his hands and took a step back from you as the man who just entered stalked towards him. The entire movement made you drop your drinks, but you were too startled to care.
"L-logan....the hell are you doing here, man?", the boy stuttered and his whole demeanor changed in a split second.
"Me? What the fuck do you think you're doing here?!", you let your eyes roam over his body as he yelled out. He was clearly older than you. And definitely older than the arrogant guy. It was obvious that they knew each other. You wondered how. They seemed like two very different guys. The older one had a casual confidence whereas the younger one had made up arrogance.
You stayed frozen in place as you watched them yell at each other. The more you looked at their faces the more you started to notice similarities. The older one was bigger, with quite a bit more muscle to him, but they had the same strong jaw and nose, and their eyes were the same gorgeous shade of blue. Could they be...
"Miss, I'm really sorry for my brother."
"I uhm,...okay, that's okay", you mumbled.
The man gave you a friendly look before sticking his hand out.
"I'm Logan Syverson, but everyone calls me Sy. And that's my little brother Jimmy. I'm really sorry if he gave you any trouble, he's been acting out a bit lately."
You shook his hand without breaking eye contact. The second your skin made contact with his you felt your stomach drop...weird.
"Hey, I'm not a fucking kid!" Jim yelled out, earning an angry glare from Sy.
"Then maybe you should stop acting like one, Jimmy. You really think I wouldn't notice you taking my fucking bike? Huh?", Sy yelled, "You're taking the truck back home. Gimme my fucking keys back."
Reluctantly, Jim gave Sy the keys to his bike and Sy gave him the car keys in return.
"You didn't drink, did you?" Sy asked with a raised brow.
"No, Logan, I fucking didn't. Okay?!" he snapped before turning around and storming out. While you heard the car door slamming closed and the engine starting outside, Sy turned back to you.
"I'm really sorry about all that..." he scratched through his brown curls before his eye fell on the puddle of Cosmo's on the floor, "Oh christ, uh, here, please let me buy you a new round," he said, already pulling out his wallet.
"Oh no, no it's okay really, you don't have to", you assured him.
"No, I insist. I promise I won't stick around to bother you or anything, but just let me pay for them, please?"
Now how could you say no to that?
"Alright then, if you insist", you gave him a sweet smile.
The two of you walked to the bar and as you waited for your order, you couldn't help but give him a once-over. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans and a black shirt with some old writing on it. He was much taller than you, and big...very big. With a mind that was still half tipsy, you couldn't help the words that left your mouth next.
"You know...", you started, getting his attention, "I wouldn't mind if you did stick around for a bit...to bother me."
You swore Sy's eyes twinkled for a second as you looked up at him. Of course, he found you attractive. You were probably the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Scratch that. Not probably, definitely.
But still, the gentleman in him wanted to politely refuse, given your clouded state and what his brother made you endure already, but then your hand touched his arm and your eyes found his. "Please? I insist", you pleaded, and Sy caved. "Alright then, if you insist...", he was only a man after all, and he could only take so much.
Meanwhile, at the girl's table, everyone was far too drunk and caught up in whatever story they were telling to have noticed what just went down. But all the giggling came to a quick stop when a tall handsome man towered over them with four cosmopolitans in his hand.
"Ladies, this is Sy", you introduced him, holding three more drinks, "My savior of the night, and the buyer of our next round."
End flashback
"Aww, dad was her hero!", Maya yelled out.
"He still is", you smiled, leaning into Sy and pressing a kiss on his shoulder.
"Hold on. So, you tried to hit on mom?", Jake turned to his uncle, "That's gross, dude."
"Alright, okay, I remember that story a little differently", Jim spoke up, looking even grumpier than before.
"He was just a teenager", you defended your brother-in-law.
"I was almost twenty", Jim stated.
"Yeah, that doesn't exactly help your case, bud", Sy spoke up, wrapping his arm around you as you tried to stifle a giggle.
"So what happened after that?", Maya asked curiously.
"Well, your dad was too nervous to ask for my number, so I asked for his."
"Hey! I was just trying to be a gentleman", Sy defended argued, giving your shoulder a squeeze.
"Sure thing, hun", you grinned, "The week after we met up again in that same bar, and the rest is history."
"Is that bar still there?", Jacob asked.
"Actually, they turned it into a restaurant, but it's still called Mickey's."
"Hey, isn't that where...", your son started
"Where your dad proposed to me, yeah." you smiled fondly. "and we still go there every year on our anniversary..."
The end
Taglist;
@metalbuckaroo @princessayveke @montsepliego @scxrletrecsmarvel @hopelesslyrogers @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @tfandtws @vicmc624 @ahahafudge @enchantedbarnes @wickedravyn @pono-pura-vida @amayaraestyles @matchat3a @fictional-hooman @sebastianexplicit @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @jamneuromain @tryingtoliveonmywishes @mrsevans90 @daybreak96 @tiredqueen73 @fallingforunrealisticromance @identity2212 @randomweirdoss @ragamuffin285 @juliaorpll78 @geralts-yenn @imjusthereforliam @bangtanstoeart @squeezyvalkyrie @enchantedbytomandhenry @superduckmilkshake @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @missgaygurl @foxyjwls007 @mollymal @urmomsgirlfriend1 @luxeydior
188 notes · View notes
crybaby-bkg · 11 months
Text
tw: mention of incest role play, mention of fear kink, mention of cum inflation????, scummy gojo, also I have no idea how to word this????
gojo who gets paired up with you for a college project, and you’re fucking reeling for a few reasons. one being; he’s extremely attractive and damn near everyone on campus knows who he is. and also, you’re intimidated by his beauty and popularity, especially since you’re only known for giving out the answers when people ask nice enough in classes.
but he’s so…friendly, when you guys meet up to start on the project. he’s all smiles and helpful answers, bites at the people who come up to him and pretend you’re not even there. he listens to you with this dumb (cute) little look on his face, with his lips slightly parted and his brows raised and his white lashes peeking over the roundness of his glasses whenever he nods.
he’s kinder than you expected him to be. funnier, too, with his shitty jokes that you find yourself snorting at in the quiet library. and when you guys are finished with the project, he still keeps in touch. moves his seat to be next to you in class, texts you and asks you out to coffee, even invites you on a date after a few weeks.
and everything is perfect—until it’s not. until he beds you one day and it’s not as special or magical as you were anticipating it to be. he’s kinda…strange, in a sense, when he fucks you. oddly quiet, like he’s holding back, his hands just a little too tight, his eyes too focused on random parts of your body.
but you sleep with him again and again, until he starts becoming real comfortable with you. almost too comfortable, let’s how weird and strange and almost scummy he really is start to shine through, let the mask he’d be unknowingly wearing this entire time slip away.
“What if we were siblings?” Gojo asks you one night when he’s fucking your brains out. he’s gotten better over these few months, gotten looser and more comfortable. too fucking comfortable.
“Satoru, what in the ever loving fuck are you on about?” you ask him in a gasp as you reach a hand back to keep your head from hitting the headboard. but he’s undeterred, his eyes wild and unseeing as he grips your hips tighter, thrusts becoming sloppier.
“No, I mean in a role play way.” He explains, as if that makes it sound any better. “You know? You’re my sweet lil sister taking big bro’s cock so I won’t tell mom and dad about you sneaking out.”
“You’re a sick fuck.” you tell him plainly, frustrated that your tone doesn’t carry the same bite because his nimble fingers started playing with you at the same time. “Fuckin’ weirdo.”
“Incest role play doesn’t turn you on?” he asks, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy that you wanna kick in the chin. “Maybe, hmm,”
he pretends to be lost in thought, thrusts slowing down and you let out an irritated huff as you slump back onto the bed. but your back arches up when his hips pick up pace again, suddenly slamming into you as he looms over you. one hand cupping your cheek, the other returning in between your thighs as he grins madly.
“Maybe you’d like some fear play, yeah? How’s that sound?” Gojo bends over you until his nose skims yours, his pupils entirely too tiny, makes your breath hitch in your throat. “Me, chasing you around the campus with a big knife, scared that I’ll catch you. You know I would, right?”
he forces you to nod with his big hand cupping your cheeks, pouting your lips at him as you whimper. he kisses you, breathless, chuckling a little under his breath as he mutters something incomprehensible, his cock carving its way deep inside you.
“Maybe even cum inflation? That one’s not the realest thing out here, but I could figure out a way to make that work. You’d like that, right?” he sounds like he’s off the deep end, like every single twisted thought that’s been running through his mind these past few weeks have finally come to the forefront. started spilling out between you two like a cracked dam, like he’s been bottling this up ever since you met him.
you cum only a few seconds after his last inquiry, scared of the way his smile widens, as if your body told him an answer he’s already known.
229 notes · View notes
hyuckie-angel · 1 year
Text
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treasure reaction; college boyfriend
in which they love their partner and their studies (sometimes)
a/n; a lil suggestive in jihoon, yoshi, asahi and doyoung’s parts
최현석 • choi hyunsuk
the making music at 1am boyfriend
the raw talent your partner hyunsuk possesses is no joke
the way music seems to come from his fingertips
magically into the software
renders you speechless sometimes
‘come look at what i made :D’
he’ll never say it but all of his lyric inspiration is you
he’s never failed a project and he knows its because he’s got you there to write about :’)
but anyway
despite adoring his creativity, sometimes he really just has no clue 
like there’s a road in his brain but its one way and the lines are fading
if you get what i mean
it’s really late
the world is silent
you are drifting off into dreams
when out of nowhere you hear a really loud Dm chord blasting through the stereo
‘hyunsukkkkkkkk’
‘yeah? :0′
he’s cute when he’s confused so you forgive him
when he has an early class you sometimes have to get out of bed and force him away from his desk
‘but im almost don-’
‘hyunsuk it is 4am go the fuck to sleep’
sometimes he whips out the guitar at 1am, strumming a few chords and humming along
this you could never say no to
‘i wrote this one for you the other day’
lying there listening to him quietly serenade you fills you with this warm comfortableness 
so you jump out of bed to grab his face 
planting a soft kiss onto his lips
you can feel his grin even with your eyes shut
its safe to say that sleeping doesn’t play a huge part in the relationship, and you could not care any less :)
박지훈 • park jihoon
the ‘if i finish my project will you finish me? ;)’ boyfriend
lord help your soul
jihoon may look like the sweetest, most innocent guy on campus
but oh boy is that incorrect
before you were even dating he was winking at you across the classroom
or running ahead of you to open doors
and despite his wide and elated smile when you finally accepted his advances
he is a fiend
he’s like your own personal devil on your shoulder
‘surely we skip this class’ wink wink wink
you quickly figured out that the best motivation for this man is
well
the intimate kind
the ‘if you finish this project in the next hour ill let you do whatever you want tonight’ kind
he has absolutely no complaints
it was a dream come true when he realised you would reciprocate
besides
both of you would much rather spend a night having fun
than reading coursework and hating life
of course he has his sweet moments
buys you flowers
brings you chocolate when you’re sad
agrees that making a pillow fort is very important rn
cue the next 3 hours of bickering and pillow related injuries
but his tendency to get distracted
makes itself known quite often
of course you use this to your advantage
walking into the room in a tiny little skirt and an almost see through top
you get more attention than you’ve ever dreamed of
and the sex 
you don’t wanna blow up his ego
but it’s just always really, really good
your professor has started to become suspicious
sometimes both of you do fantastic work
but sometimes both your projects look rushed  (¬_¬)
‘we just spent too much time studying for our other class professor i swear’
this boy will be the death of you 
金本芳典 • kanemoto yoshinori
the always late to class boyfriend
you love this boy to the grave
but you cannot count on all your fingers and toes the amount of times he has forgotten about his classes
never once has he done it on purpose
the man just gets so distracted by anything and everything
especially you
he is no thoughts head empty only yn
‘holy fucking fuck i have class rn’
you have his schedule written down in your phone
so when you tell him you’re going to the shops and he says he’s coming
you can tell him 
‘no yoshi you have literature in 5 minutes’
cue yoshi olympic sprinting out of the house
the amount of times he comes back from class with a paper that has been graded 
‘98%... late’
its basically his brand atp
you’re no better sometimes though
if you’re making out and in the back of your mind you know he probably has class soon
but you’d much rather be here
with his hands in you hair and your heavy breaths breaking the silence
you just say nothing
yoshi doesn't care if he’s late because you guys were having sex
in fact unsurprisingly
he quite enjoys it
 as do you lmao
‘yoshi you have class’
‘stfu do you wanna have sex or not jesus’
he’s also developed a sixth sense when around his professors
if he passes by one of them on campus
he immediately leaves your side
jumping behind a bush
as you get confronted by his literature professor asking why tf he missed half an hour of class again
‘just tell them i died’ 
‘no??’
he’s never going to change, but as the wisest men say
yolo
김준규 • kim junkyu
the studies until 5am then sleeps through the class boyfriend
if theres one thing about junkyu
its that sleep >>>>> anything else
(aside from you >> ofc)
he also has this unbelievable fear of failing
so to compensate he spends hours and hours studying
into the night
you wake up sometimes and there’s 4 redbull cans scattered across the desk
and a very unconscious junkyu drooling onto his workbook
you take a photo of him
you gently shake him and wake him enough to get himself to bed
you can always tell how hard he’s working to try and pass his classes with the best marks possible
and you admire him for it
but goddamn does he need to stop staying up so late
you remember the infamous night that he stayed up super late cramming
absolutely determined to pass his exam with the highest marks possible
and then proceeded to sleep through all his alarms
you received a very tearful phone call that morning
‘can you wake me up at 6:30?’
‘junkyu its 5am that is 1 and a half hours of sleep’
‘yea??’
he lives and breaths energy drinks
cue his hands shaking to the point where both of you are like
‘maybe we should go to a doctor’  (≖_≖ )
your favourite thing to do together is nap
because he is always sleep deprived
he turns into a cuddly gremlin when you lie down together
you want to get up and use the bathroom
too bad
wait until he wants to let go
its okay though because he’s so cute
sometimes when you’re napping he unconsciously kisses your forehead and cuddles closer to you
and you have to say nothing so you don’t wake him but also die inside from love and affection
although he is clumsy
and somewhat disorganised
he’s your clumsy and disorganised, and you love him more than anything <333333
윤재혁 • yoon jaehyuk
the ‘whats the answer???’ boyfriend
you met jaehyuk in a class the two of you shared
you could tell he was an absent minded guy
he was often staring towards the front of the lecture hall
looking directly through the teacher
and taking in precisely zero information
but because you were sat next to him
and you liked to think you were a decent person
you would give him a tap on the shoulder every time you thought he was missing something important
this seemed quite mundane to you
just a girl helping out a fellow classmate  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
but the butterflies that birthed in his stomach every time you leant over to help him out
made him feel crazy
so he asked you out
after getting over the initial surprise of this gorgeous man wanting to be your boyfriend
you began to notice all these little habits about him
his confused squint when he’s trying to figure something out
the way he clenches his jaw in understanding
his fiddly hands when he’s losing his attention span
and your personal favourite;
the way he leans over to ask you questions about the class
‘hey what did you get for number 1 coz i got 35 but its not even a maths question?’
he’s also so unintentionally funny
‘babe i lost 17 pens can i borrow one?’
once you snorted in amusement so loudly the teacher said bless you
which made jaehyuk loose his shit laughing
and now whenever you laugh at his expense he says bless you
so you slap him (gently)
he pokes his tongue out 
you pretend to get offended
he laughs and kisses you softly
you forgive him immediately
his attention span in class has definitely improved with you helping him
even the professor has noticed
but
he maaaay or may not be pretending to zone out sometimes
just so you’ll tap him on the shoulder and look at him with your pretty eyes and ask him if he needs anything :’)
浜田朝光 • hamada asahi
the quiet sober; crazy drunk boyfriend
when you first met your boyfriend asahi
his quiet and calm temperament had caught your attention
you’d seen him in the library, head down, brown hair falling in his eyes
and you’d realised that you needed this man
he was beautiful
so you went and talked to him
his responses were
well
limited
‘hi’
‘yeah’
‘haha’
but little did you know his heart had swelled and his palms had become clammy at the sight of you
you and your face that he thought was maybe the most gorgeous he’d ever seen
so two months later you were dating
he’d told you he didn’t drink much
he didn’t care for it
but when you were invited to his best friend jaehyuks birthday party, he told you he’d probably indulge a little
“a little” he said
by the time you got into the uber to go to the party, his cheeks were flushed 
by the time you got there, he was smiling wonkily at you like an idiot
about half an hour later and you’d totally lost him
you weren’t worried, it was a safe environment
but you were curious
so out you went to look for him
and there he was on the roof
ON THE ROOF?!?!
his hangover the next morning was his punishment for doing stupid shit you’d told him
now every time you drink
you wait for an incident ™
sometimes he just gets super horny
‘can we leave plzzz babe ;))’
and sometimes he manages things you don’t understand
‘okey we needa go coz that guys wantz to fite me idk why’
but all times, he is hungover for three days and one of his professors thinks he has an alcohol problem 
‘i’m never drinking again’ :(
김도영 • kim doyoung
the hits on you like you’re not dating boyfriend
just like jihoon
doyoung has this innocent exterior, devilish interior 
kinda vibe
he also has absolutely no shame ever
and so has this habit of constantly putting you in awkward situations 
where people think he’s harassing you
but in reality he’s just being a dickhead
‘hey bby girl you wanna come back to my place tonight?’ ;)
before you had told your best friend that you and doyoung were dating
he had come over, slung an arm around your shoulders and gone
‘hey sexy’
you had turned bright red
and your friend had looked so confused you thought she might have an aneurism
doyoung lives in a share house just off campus with three roommates; jaehyuk, jeongwoo and junkyu
the first few times you’d come over, doyoung turned off the weirdness
opting for just following you around
like a lost puppy
but when he realised his roommates didn’t pay you guys any attention
suddenly he’s backing you into walls
grabbing you from behind in the kitchen
staring at your chest almost all the time
and just being a general menace to society 
you have a really lovely and not embarrassing at all memory 
of a beautiful spring day
5:30pm
you and two friends were walking out of class
giggling at everything under the sun
when a voice echoes through the air
a voice belonging to your beloved boyfriend who’s standing 20 feet away from you with a shit eating grin on his face
‘yo yn... is that a mirror in your pocket coz i can see myself in your pants!!!!’ ;)) 
your physics professor was standing right behind him 
you’ve never seen someone go from confident to embarrassed that quickly
but even though he is your personal humiliation creator
you still let him hit
what can you say, he’s dumb but he’s hot lmaooo
渡辺春虎 • watanabe haruto
the ‘i fcking hate this class’ boyfriend
you were the year above haruto
you in your third year of studies, him in his second
you had dreamt your whole life of becoming a marine biologist
dedicating countess hours to study and achieving perfect scores
it wasn’t a secret that you loved all of your classes
now
one evening you were asked by your professor to attend a lecture and maybe help out anyone in need
and that’s when you first saw him
you thought he was cute immediately, his platinum blonde hair framing his face nicely and his glasses sliding down his nose a little
but you weren’t one for pursuing attraction
so you spent the lecture walking around and giving tips to people that asked
until haruto raised his hand as you walked by
secretly happy, you sat down next to him and asked what he needed
it was basically love at first sight for both of you
you spent the rest of the lecture sitting with him
he found you so endearing 
and you thought he was hilarious
all was going so well
until he opened his mouth and went 
‘yeah i fucking hate this class lol’
you awkwardly smiled
‘this is my favourite class’
his grin dropped dramatically
‘ah- ah i’m sorry idk why i said that’
you weren’t offended in the slightest
but his flustered reaction made you giggle
you began dating only weeks later :)
haruto’s favourite thing was to annoy the shit out of you talking about how much he dislikes the classes you love
you could be sitting in the food court
having a loving conversation
and out of nowhere he goes
‘i’m so glad im not in that class rn’
you deadpan stare at him 
if he sees you studying for the class
‘damn i was gonna stay over but not anymore i guess fuck’
so dramatic i stg
despite wanting to punch him in the jaw sometimes
he makes you laugh more than you had in years
and so you can move past the difference in interests for him
박정우 • park jeongwoo
the second-hand embarrassment boyfriend
like
confidently raises his hand and says the total wrong answer
kinda guy
trips over and sprains his ankle in the food court
kinda guy
not that you’d have it any other way
but damn sometimes you have to restrain from cringing visibly
he’s like a walking sit-com
and you are the audience
your personal favourite pass-time is forcing him to listen to his own actions retold from your perspective
as you wheeze with laughter and he sits there like  (-_-) 
he secretly loves it though
if his misfortune is enough to make you happy
he thinks you might be slightly weird
but your happiness is all that matters to him
so he can deal with it
‘im glad me falling on my ass was this amusing to you thanks heaps babe’
one day you were sitting in a class you shared 
it was business and it was boring but it was both of your favourite class because you were in <3 love <3
and jeongwoo had a question
the professor was walking around the classroom so he was waiting
and as they walked over, jeongwoo opened his mouth
and you watched practically in slow motion as he said
‘hey mum i have a question’
your eyes widened
his eyes widened
the professors eyes widened 
doyoungs eyes widened
you held back on laughing until he’d gotten the answer he needed
and then you and doyoung let loose 
‘hey mum’
‘mummy i mean mummy i mean-’
‘excuse me professor birthgiver’
‘OKAY I GET IT SHUT THE FUCK UP PLEASE’
if he ever gets insecure about anything
you look him dead in the eyes and tell him that he may be an idiot, but he’s your idiot, and thats all that matters :)
소정환 • so junghwan
the spends all his money on you boyfriend
from the beginning
junghwan had been spoiling you silly 
buying you lunches
hearing you say you liked something and immediately purchasing it
you hadn’t thought anything of it at first
assuming it was just a friendly gesture
but the smirks from all your friends told you a different story
after the two of you began dating, his bank account began suffering
you had told him countless times
he didn’t need to be doing all this
but to him, it was his way of showing you he cared
‘you like this? i buy for u bby girl’
‘junghwan no-’
he also wasn’t afraid of showing people how much he spoiled you
read: ‘one time he walked into your class whilst the teacher was talking and everybody looked at him confused and he walked to you and gave you a block of chocolate and then walked straight back out but blew you a kiss just to make sure you were sufficiently embarrassed’
you adore him for it though
no matter how much he tries to humiliate you
you also aren’t allowed to try and pay him back
if he catches you tryna pay for something
or transferring money
its on sight
‘i am a grown man and i am insulted by this behaviour’
sometimes you run to the food court to buy both of you lunch before he gets there
so that he can’t lecture you on spending money
sometimes you think he’s a bit dumb though
you once broke a pencil you’d been using in your art class
and in response junghwan had bought you 83 more
‘why are there 7 parcels at my door rn’
‘damn that shits crazy i have no idea’
despite this
you know his only intention is to be there for you and help you out
so you always thank him with a huge hug 
and only one or two insults about him being a walking wallet
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opossumloverr · 1 year
Text
✪ RAPHAEL HAMATO DATING HEADCANONS ✪
Summary:
Just some silly lil headcanons to start of the summa❗️🫶🏾
Warning(s):
None! all fluff up in here
A/N:
OKAY GUYS ITS SUMMER VAYCAY, IM BACK AND HAVE NOTHING TO DO FOR 75 DAYS, IM A FREE MAN, SO LET'S START IT OFF WITH MY FAVORITE BOY (Gender-neutral reader!)
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I would like to start by saying this man loves you very much and would drop almost anything for you
You need help with a school project? Big red is on his way, you don't know what shoes will match the outfit you picked, oh what a coincidence! he just so happens to have a matching pair of shoes that fits you perfectly, you just want cuddles? lock and loaded baby, come at him
I think I can speak for everyone when I say we all need a Raph in our lives
He protects you from his brother's teasing, even if it's just playing or goofing, he is NOT taking any chances.
He loves to scoop you up randomly, you'll get used to it don't worry
Very cautious when picking you up though, doesn't want his spikes to hurt you, he will feel mad guilty if he was the one who caused you even a little bit of pain, even if it wasn't attentional (please comfort the man)
Appreciates the little moments he shares with you, oh my gosh I actually have the perfect scenario, just imagine...
After a long day full of fun cahoots and mysterious adventures, you two finally decided to go home, you usually go your separate ways after a day like this one, but it was rather late at night, and New York lets the creeps roam at this time, so he offered to ride the subway train with you, even though you were a bit hesitant but agreed cause there's no way your gonna allow yourself to get mugged in the middle of the night and like I said it was late at night so the subway cart that you guys were on was empty, he did wear a Hoodie and mask, just in case, the ride was silent, no noises but the constant screeching of the train tracks, but other than that it was just comfortable silence, Raph was lost in his thoughts, thinking about how the next day will be and how it will end, will it be a good or bad day? or something in the middle; what's the meaning of life? and what happens after death? Where does your soul go to, to heaven? or is it just pitch black forever, will today be his last day-- suddenly, he felt a lightweight on his shoulder, the thoughts that were coming in like a rapid wave started to smooth down to a calm stream of water, he glanced down at your sleeping figure, apparently you thought it was a perfect time to take a quick power nap, how cute! he coos softly at you, loving how you're so comfortable and calm around him. god, he loves you so much ♡,
"I promise I will always be here when you need me, you're my everything, sweetie"
Sorry guys I just felt a little kooky at the moment
If you like to play fight he's totally down, doesn't fight too hard obviously, and lets you win all the time, what a gentleman
He'll hold doors open for you, push your seat out, and then push it back in, hell, he would even do that thing where a guy puts his coat on a puddle so the lady could walk through it even though she's fully capable of walking around it
Takes so many pics of you and him at places, and has a particular folder on his phone with pictures of you guys
When it's family game night or movie night, he always invites you, you are practically a part of the family so why not? (The others don't mind)
It's so common to find you in the lair with how much you go down there on a daily basis
Yall have to do lovely dovey things in a private area cause of his brothers (mostly Leo, his bitchass) constantly changing the mood
Likes it when you watch him workout, it motivates him so much, sometimes he uses you as a weight
Loves to give you piggyback rides for some reason
He likes pickles, LISTEN LISTEN, if you don't like pickles in your burger you'll pick them out and give it to him cause you know he loves em (THE OLIVE THEORY ♡)
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I GOT SOO MUCH MORE BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH I LOBE HIM BUT ILL KEEP IT INSIDE, FOR NOW, CAUSE ITS 5:08 AM RN 💀 sorry for being dead for 5 months, AGIAN, but imma be back on my grind now 🙏🏾 and I'll try to complete all of my 15 drafts 😓 and if you see any grammar mistakes, no you didn't.
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thydungeongal · 2 months
Note
Okay I'm convinced. I want to play an old school dungeon crawl. I want encounter tables that restock, I want to track my lamp oil, I want my character to die and I'm forced to roll a new one at the table. What non-AD&D games would you recommend that do that? Is Rolemaster one of them?
Rolemaster isn't exactly conducive to that sort of play because it represents a direction of fantasy role-playing games that started to de-emphasize dungeon-crawling as an activity, but there are a couple of good ones!
Old-School Essentials is an almost 1:1 clone of my favorite old-school D&D, the Moldvay Basic/Expert version. Elf and Dwarf are classes! There's instant death giant bees! Character creation is 3d6 down the line! The benefit of using OSE, besides not paying WotC, is that the creators keep producing lots of new supplemental materials for it, and it's at the moment one of the most widely supported old-school games. It also has a free SRD with all the basic rules! The rules in the SRD are enough to get you started, and the Classic Fantasy rules are also available in PDF and print, but if you want to add some advanced classes I recommend getting the Advanced Fantasy rules, which converts pretty much all AD&D classes and races into a B/X compatible format. Confusingly, the Advanced Fantasy rules are not supplemental, but instead they contain all the same rules as the Classic Fantasy rules tome in addition to having all the AD&D stuff.
Basic Fantasy Role-Playing Game is a community-driven Creative Commons old-school RPG. Rules-wise I would consider it halfway between B/X and AD&D. While the rules have the simplicity of B/X they have some of the added depth of AD&D (race and class as separate, for one). It is a fantastic project well worth supporting, and entirely free to get started on!
Errant is an interesting one because it is not a clone of any old-school edition of D&D, but a game clearly built around all the game design lessons learned from years of OSR design just poured into one. I have previously described Errant as "maximalist OSR," and that's not because it's particularly crunchy, but because it is full of neat little procedures. It abstracts some things away but it turns resource-management into a really fun little minigame. There is a free version of its rules available which only lacks the art, and if nothing else it is a great resource for borrowing ideas for other games.
And finally, Mausritter. A fantastic minimalist OSR game about playing little mice adventurers. I can't stress enough how fantastic this game is. It emphasizes the fear of being just a lil guy in a world full of big monsters that want to eat you through old-school mechanics. It's also free!
The great thing about these old-school games is that even when the rules don't agree 1:1 they are built on similar enough principles that you can easily borrow materials from one to another!
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