#I don’t wanna make it and have it be empty

[eccentricwritingbaby]

i miss you, i’m sorry 

lando norris x reader

summary - breakup, missed calls, and lando at your doorstep. 

masterlist 

-

do you remember happy together?

i do, don’t you?

“hi, you’ve reached y/n! i can’t come to the phone right now but please leave me a messa-”

click. lando stares down at his phone, the daunting contact photo of you two together and happy staring back at him. mocking him. his eyes are brimmed with salty tears, his head mentally begging you to call him back. 

you had broken up one month ago, pressures of life forcing the two of you to become resentful and angry, with a common thought that you would both be better off apart. after two years together he moved out of your shared apartment, giving it to you, and finding his own. but, within a week, lando had missed you too deeply to even recognize any faults near the end, just hopelessly attempting to contact you in any way. he had called you every day since then, always getting your voicemail and never having the right mind to leave one. 

the boxes scattered around his apartment were just inanimate reminders of you, and how much he wished he would’ve never left. how much he wished he would have fought for you and your love, a love that hadn’t disappeared the more you two were apart, it only grew stronger. 

you said ‘forever’, in the end i fought it

please, be honest, are we better for it?

thought you’d hate me, but instead you called

and said, “i miss you”

i caught it

lando fell back into the couch, his dark phone haunting him as he reminisced. what was so bad about the end? you couldn’t make a few races? he knew his love radiated and compensated for that. he could deal with missed races and conflicting schedules if it meant having you back in his life. as he sits, the slight buzzing of his phone catches him out of his trance, and your smiling face appears on his screen. quick and slightly sweating fingers slide across the screen, answering fast with a clearing of his throat. 

“h-hello?” his voice slightly cracks into the phone. 

“hi,” he hears you sigh from the other line, his smile finally coming back as he hears your current voice, “you called?” 

“been calling,” lando tries to lighten the mood, “‘m glad you called back,”

“me too,” your soft voice is music to his ears, “i, i miss you,” your small confession was everything to lando as his full smile returned to his face for the first time since your ultimate breakup. 

“miss you too, love,” he sighs out in relief, “been needin’ to hear your voice,”

“yours too,”

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry

“how’ve you been?” he subtly asks, his fingers now playing with the hem of his shirt - a nervous habit he had picked up from you in your years together. 

“have to admit, not that good,” he hears your giggle through his phone and his heart jumps with love, “the apartment feels too quiet without you here,” 

“my new one feels too empty without you here,” lando replies, his hand runs down his face, preparing himself for his next question, “listen, i-i know you said you didn’t want to see me but-”

“come over,” your voice interrupts, already knowing what he was going to ask, “please,” your voice drops into your most vulnerable octave, and lando is already scrambling to retrieve his keys in order to head out the door to your old shared apartment, to you. 

“be there in five, love,” he responds swiftly, jogging out the door in order to make it towards you faster. 

everything i know brings me back to us

i don’t wanna go, we’ve been here before

everywhere i go leads me back to you

the gentle knocking at your door brings you out of your post-call fog and back into reality. he was here. the man that walked out of your life easily and then wouldn’t leave you alone to heal is here. and fuck, you were so happy to see him. 

the breakup hadn’t been your first decision either, the words had just shouted out of your mouth before you could think things through in a fit of rage. and lando listened. and left. but now he’s here. 

opening the door you’re faced with the man you loved, love. his bright eyes and curly hair still the same, his hoodie and joggers making him ever so soft, and the smile graced on his face was hard to miss. 

“hi,” he whispers, almost afraid to scare you off.

“hi,” you whisper back, same fears in your brain as his, “come in,” you gesture to the inside of your once shared apartment, and he easily steps in, bringing a warmth that was missing to the space and making it a home again. just like that. 

“wow,” he states, keeping his same quiet demeanor, “i’ve missed this place,” looking around, his eyes land on you, “i’ve missed you,”

“i’ve missed you too, lan,” you take a step towards him, “i miss you, a-and i’m sorry, for everything,”

“why are you apologizing?” he takes your hands into his own, giving them both a soft squeeze, “i should be the one apologizing, i just left when things got hard instead of working on it and figuring it out, i-”

“no no,” you cut off his ranting, “i should have never suggested a breakup, that was my fault,”

“and i should have never gone along with it, i should’ve stayed, should’ve fought,”

“you did fight, lan,” your eyes begin to gloss as you look up at him, “you called and called, i just shut you out-”

“then don’t shut me out now, give me another chance,” his pulls your hands that are in his to wrap around his neck as his own land on your waist, “please, baby, give us another chance,”

“i love you,” you whisper, “i still love you, of course i want to be with you again,” lando doesn’t hesitate, now knowing you’re on the same page as him and moves forward to capture your lips into a breathtaking kiss.

“god i’ve missed this,” he pants, forehead resting against yours, “please never break up with me again,”

“please never leave again,” you whisper back.

“wouldn’t even dream of it, baby,”

[straylightdream]

getaway car

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: hansol vernon chwe x f.reader

↳ The ties were black, the lies were white. In shades of gray in candlelight. I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmate au??, neighbors to lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mc boyfriend is a jerk, the mc ex is physically cheating, mc is emotional cheating, lots of emotions, smut warning below the cut

𝐚𝐧: my next story for SVT inspired by reputation songs by taylor swift. This is part of a loosely connecting series called “all for you” you can absolutely just read this as one shot. Thank you @whimsical-whatever for helping me figure out this story and listening to me ramble about it.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: oral (fem rec), fingering, protected sex, starting to have sex in the shower, multiple positions, this is very fluffy vanilla smut, lots of emotions

When people talk about being in love they always make it sound so grand and wonderful. They don’t talk about the heartbreak that can also be experienced loving someone who doesn’t deserve your love.

Laying in bed you stare at the empty spot that should be occupied by your boyfriend of five years, but instead he’s nowhere to be seen.

In the last seven months things have fallen apart. No matter how hard you think back you don’t think you can pin the moment when it all started. You’re not happy anymore by any means. You’re not even sure you’re still in love.

There’s only one gleam of light in your life. The boy who lives down the hall Vernon. Whenever you see him he instantly brightens your day. You had met when you moved in, but you didn’t really talk until one day he rode in the elevator with you while you were crying. Since that day Vernon has been a fixture in your life. He became a shoulder to cry on when your boyfriend hurt your feelings. He was also someone you could talk to when you wanted to pretend everything was okay.

You tried your hardest to not complain about your relationship all the time. Most of the time you would just say you were sad and needed a friend.

This last week has been bad. It’s quite obvious your boyfriend is cheating on you.

From the moment you met Vernon you felt drawn to him. At first you told yourself it wasn't a romantic feeling but the longer you knew him the more you realized you felt like you need him in your life to exist. You told yourself over and over you were faithful to your boyfriend that this was nothing more than a crush. But the more your relationship starts to crumble the more you let yourself realize you have feelings for the boy down the hall.

It’s another night of fighting with your boyfriend. He’s come home from work way later than he should have. He walks in after midnight and you instantly spot the stain of lipstick on his shirt collar. There is a stabbing feeling in your chest. No matter how hard you loved him he was never going to be faithful to you.

You’ve pointed out to him a handful of times that things he does makes you think he could be cheating, but this is the first time you have called him a cheater. You would think that maybe he would defend himself and tell you that he’s not cheating, but he doesn’t do that. He tells you he cheats because of you. He points all the blame on you.

You scream at him, you're done and it’s over. You feel utterly broken. Sobbing that he broke your heart as he storms out of the apartment saying he needs air.

You sit on the couch trying to gather yourself. Giving yourself a moment before you pick up your phone and rush out of your apartment.

Walking down the hall there is only one person you wanna see. It’s way past one in the morning now. Opening your phone you hit Vernon contact. Holding your phone to your ear it rings about five times before he answers the phone.

“Is everything okay?” It’s rare you call him let alone in the middle of the night.

“Not really. I’m outside, can you let me in,” you start to cry again.

“Yeah.”

Moments later he opens the door quickly. He’s just in a pair of boxer briefs. He must have been in bed already.

“I’m sorry,” you say as tears slide down your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything. He takes your hand leading you into his apartment he shares with Chan and Seokmin.

He shut the door, locking it. He hesitates for a moment before he rests his hand on your cheek and gently wipes away your tears.

“I told him I’m done. He came home after midnight with lipstick stained on his collar. I don’t wanna do this anymore. He doesn’t love me and I can’t love him anymore. I don't love him anymore.” You lean into his touch.

“I’m glad you left him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. You’re sorry for so many things. You know he cares for you and that he probably has always romantically liked you for a while just like you have. And no matter what you do you hurt him in one way or another.

“Stop saying that. You have nothing to apologize to me for.” He gives you a gentle smile.

“Can we go to your room? I don’t want to bother the boys. It’s already so late and I already woke you up.”

Reaching down he takes your hand in his for the first time and leads you to his room. He shuts the door and releases your hand. “Would you mind if I stayed with you tonight?”

“Of course you can stay here.” You’ve never been so happy you stormed out of the house in your pajamas. “Did you want me to take the couch?”

“No, I was hoping I could sleep in your bed with you. I just really want to hold your hand.”

He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips. You crawl under the covers and watch as Vernon turns the light on and crawls into bed next to you. You both lay there facing each other. There is a gap between you. Laying your hand there you want to be close to him. You want him to hold you and to kiss you and tell you you’ll be okay. But that is too much to ask of him.

There is always something about Vernon that he’s always been able to read you. He must notice you’re struggling. He reaches out, taking your hand in his.

“I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I don’t want to live in a building that is haunted with memories of him and I.”

He takes a deep breath squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to. I’ll help you pack your things when he’s gone to work.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” You can’t help the tears that are slowly falling.

“You can stay here with me as long as you need.”

“The boys won’t like that.” You can’t imagine either of the boys would be a fan of another person living in their three bedroom one bath apartment.

“They won’t care. Seokmin is back with his ex and barely lives here and Chan loves you. He won’t mind having you around.”

“Okay, I might need to stay here for a while. My lease wasn’t up for like six more months. Maybe I can find somewhere new by then.” Maybe Vernon has a friend who needs a new roommate.

“You don’t have to worry about that right now.” He wants to pull you close to his body and hold you like he has desperately wanted to.

There is a long moment of silence between you. “I didn't tell him I wasn’t coming home tonight. I just left after I told him we’re done.”

“That’s okay.”

“Thank you.” You’re trying to stop your tears.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he gives you a sleepy smile.

It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep with your head on his chest. His hand gently rubs your side soothing you to sleep. When you dream that night you dream about Vernon the boy who saved you. You dream about him finally kissing you the way you desperately want.

-

The next day you call out of work and send your now ex boyfriend a text telling him that it’s truly over. He’s luckily at work and away from the apartment. When he finally returned to your shared apartment last night he sent you seven texts trying to get a hold of you in the middle of last night.

You expect to receive an angry text responding to you telling him you want to break up but he leaves you on read. It’s probably for the best he does. You don’t think you could take arguing with him.

While he’s at work Vernon and Seokmin come help you pack up everything they possibly can. Seungcheol even brings his truck over to take some of your bigger stuff to a storage unit he has. You could cry at how kind Vernon and his friends are being to you. By the time five o'clock comes around basically anything that ever meant anything to you is long gone from your apartment. Seokmin and Seungcheol left you alone while you wrote a goodbye to your ex telling him he wouldn’t be hearing from you and that you would send him one more month worth of rent and that would be it.

Locking the door to your now former apartment stung. Tears brim your eyes thinking about how much you truly loved this apartment. Vernon takes your hand and brings it to his lips where he places a gentle kiss on top.

Moving on wasn’t going to be easy. You know that even though you have fallen out of love. This breakup is going to hurt. At least you now have Vernon there by your side. How much you desperately wanted to be with him, you wanted to heal and you didn’t want him to feel like he’s just a rebound.

Laying in bed that night, your head once again rests on his chest as he holds you close. “I wanna be with you fully,” you whisper.

“That’s good because I wanna be with you.” He’s slowly drawing circles on your arm.

“I don’t want to jump right into this. I think I need some time before we fully try this. But I’m begging you to be patient with me.”

Gently he presses his lips to the top of your head. “I will wait as long as it takes. I’m just asking that I can still hold your hand and hold you while we sleep. I don’t want to push you into anything else while you heal.”

After that night things stayed like this with Vernon for a while. You lived in his home and shared a bed with him for over a month and half. Vernon was truly your person. He was your rock and you have fallen for him even more.

-

Today has been hell. Anything that can go wrong is. You got yelled at at work, your ex has been trying to contact you all day and on top of that. The icing on the cake is getting stuck in a rain storm without a jacket or umbrella after getting dinner. Luckily Vernon is with you so you aren’t alone getting stuck in a rainstorm. After finding out about your terrible day at work Vernon took you out for dinner to cheer you up. Neither of you had any idea a rainstorm was coming. You had walked from the apartment about a mile to a cafe for dinner, but the rain was making it where you needed to get a cab home.

Running from the cab to the apartment building you can feel the water soaking through your clothes.

Opening the door to Vernon apartment you both instantly notice how quiet the apartment is.

“Chan is at work and I think Seokmin is with his girl. They’re fully back together now,” Vernon says. You’ve only met Seokmin ex a couple times when she came over to see him. She’s a sweet girl and seems like a good fit for him.

“Oh. I think I need a shower to warm up.” You pause staring at him for a moment. “Did you want to join?” You know this means things between you will change. But you desperately want more with him. It’s been a month and half of you living here sharing lingering touches, longing stares, and cuddling at night. You aren’t sure how much longer you could share a bed with him before you lose your mind.

“Are you sure?” He says staring at you with almost a concerned look on his face.

“Yes.”

Walking away from him you head off to the shower that is next door to his room. Luckily the boys aren’t home so you don’t have to worry about them interrupting you. You turn on the hot water waiting for him to walk in. Walking into the bathroom he locks the door as you strip away your clothes. He stands there like a statue as you open the sliding glass door and step into the steam. Your body feels an instant relief as the hot water hits your cold skin.

Standing under the warm water you watch Vernon through the frosted glass. You should feel embarrassed about him seeing you naked but you aren’t at all. This feels natural. You want whatever is going to happen with Vernon to happen. You don’t want to feel guilty for having a crush on him. He’s truly the reason you were able to walk away from your loveless relationship.

“Vernon?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to join me?” You step back under the warm water.

Through the frosted glass you can see him pulling off his shirt. “Do you want me to join you?”

“I want you to.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just takes off his pants and boxers. The glass door slides open and there he is naked in all his glory. You don’t know the last time you saw a man naked other than your ex. Vernon is absolutely beautiful. You hope in the future you can kiss your way across his beautiful skin.

The moment he slides the door shut it doesn’t turn into some lust filled moment. He stares at you for a long moment. A gentle smile on his face.

“Can you come closer to me?” You hold your hand out. Silently he takes your hand stepping closer. The warm water is washing over both of you.

“Thank you,” you don’t think you can ever thank him enough for giving you a reason to leave.

“Don’t have to thank me.”

Reaching up, his hand rests on your cheek, “I feel like you’re supposed to be in my life.”

“I feel like I need you in my life. I feel things for you I never felt for him in those five long years.” He leans down and rest his forehead against yours.

“You know Wonwoo and his girlfriend?”

“You mean the boy who is absolutely in love?” You’ve met all of Vernon’s friend in the last month and half and the moment you met Wonwoo and his girlfriend you realized he was head over heels for his girlfriend. She had told you one night when you were all at Seungcheol and Joshua’s house that Wonwoo made her believe in soulmates. Hearing her say that made you question if soulmates are real. Because if they were, you think you found yours.

“They always say they’re each other's soulmates, and I think you’re mine if they’re real,” he pulls away from you slowly.

Your body feels fuzzy as you process his words. You can’t think straight as you close the small distance between you and crash your lips into his for your first kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair pulling his body closer to yours. You can feel him hardening against your stomach as you deepen the kiss.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this in the shower,” he whispers against your lips.

“Vernon?”

“Yes?”

“I want you in every way imaginable.”

Pulling away from you he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He hands you a towel and starts working quickly drying himself off. The moment you’re both dry and wrapped in towels, you take his hand leading him towards his room.

Laying on his bed with your legs spread wide he’s kissing his way across your delicate skin. He kisses down your mound before pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit. His fingers part your folds as he licks your sensitive bundle of nerves. Slowly he pumps one finger inside. Your soft moans echo throughout his bedroom. He adds another finger earning a moan. Your finger clutch the sheets below you as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

Looking down at him you find him staring up at you through hooded eyes. He watches as you fall apart moaning his name.

Pulling away slowly he dips his fingers into his mouth wiping away your release. You stumble to sit up wanting to return the favor.

“What are you doing?” He asked, crawling off the bed.

“I was going to give you head in return,” you cock your head to the side.

“How much I would love that, I can’t think about anything other than being inside you,” he sighs.

“Oh-“

He reaches into his nightstand pulling out a foil packet. Tearing it open with his teeth. With lust filled eyes you watch as he rolls it down his hardened length.

Laying back on the bed you spread your legs waiting for him patiently.

Hovering over you he’s staring at you like you are the only person in the whole world. Reaching up, you rest your hand on his cheek.

“Do I sound like I’m crazy if I tell you I love you?” He whispers.

“No not at all,” you thought being in love again would be scary, but you think you have always been in love with him since you met him. He came into your life at the perfect time. You met him as you started to fall out of love with your ex. The moment you met Vernon in the hallway with your hands full of groceries you instantly felt something for him. Being around him made you feel like he’s supposed to be in your life.

“I love you,” he says softly. “I need you to know that before we have sex. I’m head over heels for you.” You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. “You don’t have to say it right now baby. I just want you to know how I feel.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Are you ready?”

You nod.

He slowly slides into you. The stretch feels amazing. Lifting your leg you open yourself up to him more. Everything in the world suddenly feels like it’s shifted. Your fingers claw at his shoulders as he thrust into you at a slow pace. His lips are yours kissing you like he needs you to breathe. This feels different than any other sex you've had before. Tangling your fingers in his hair you gently tug him away from your lips. You want to stare at him for a long moment.

“Oh my god-“ you moan.

“You feel like you were made for me,” he moans.

You hook your leg over his back just above his butt pulling him closer to you. His thrusts are incredibly deep with his slow pace.

“Please-“ you can only whimper and whine.

He rolls his hips a little faster. Your hands move down to his butt. Gripping his cheeks pulling him down closer to you. You feel as if you can’t get physically close enough to him.

“Baby do you want to change positions?” He must notice you want to have some sort of control. You seem like you desperately want to touch him.

“Please.”

He pulls out of you slowly and moves so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard. You waste no time straddling him. Slowly sinking down on his length. His hands rest on your hips helping you ride him. One of your hands rest on his cheek while the others rest on his chest right above his heart. Leaning toward you, press your forehead against his.

Silent gasps pass his lips.

“Fuck-“ you moan.

Your thighs burn as you ride him but that doesn’t stop you. Desperate to see what he looks like when he falls apart.

“Are you close?” You whine.

Silently he nods. One of his hands going up to take your breast. Squeezing it before rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers.

“Are you going to come?” He asked.

“Yes-“

You roll your hips a little faster. You clit brushes against his pelvic bone earning a wanton moan. Your second orgasm hits you harder than your first. Your hips stop moving as a white hot wave washes over you. Rolling your head back, you moan. His hands grip your hips as he moves your body up and down his length chasing his own release.

He falls apart moaning your name. You stare at him as he holds you flush against his thighs and he falls apart. The sight of him like this is absolutely breathtaking.

Your chest is heaving as you try to come down from your high slowly. Holding his face with both hands you slowly lean forward pressing your lips to his for a soft kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper the words that have been floating in your head for a while.

“I love you too.” He can’t help but smile.

“Thank you for giving me a reason to leave him.” You’ll never be able to thank Vernon for showing you that you could love someone else, and that someone could love you more than your ex did. He’s showing what it means to find your person. He’s making you believe soulmates could be real.

He pushes your hair away from your face. His thumb drags across your cheek slowly. “Falling in love with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

[meracyn]

heyyy could u write a one shot of kwon x reader where they weren't able to see each other for months (reader travelled to a different country and he had to go to the tournament) but reader finally had the chance to go to the sekai taikai and surprises him? maybe suggestive ;) But fluff is ok too, thank youn!

a/n: LMAOOO SNEAKY ANON but yk what ill do it (hes too fine). crazy how i wrote the bf hcs of him yesterday and now i got 3 reqs lmao, not complaining tho. also i want to find good icons to put on my kwon reqs but I CANT CHOOSE,,

warnings; SUGGESTIVE, cursing (only like..once), uhh thats all i think

Kwon stood up along with the rest of the Cobra Kai members, barely paying attention to the announcements being said at the moment— too deep in thought— thoughts of you.

The past few months were hard. Not just for him, for you too. You had to travel to another country for a while due to a family emergency regarding a very ill relative. Although you both facetimed and texted everyday, the distance was still there. It wasn’t the same.

The Sekai Taikai was able to get Kwon to focus on the tournament, but even so it wasn’t enough. His mind kept drifting off to you. He never thought your absence would affect him that much, but ever since you told him you had to stay there longer, he felt the ache in his chest deepen with each passing day. He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, but he missed you. A lot.

As everyone was allowed to leave, Kwon let out a sigh, head tilted a bit low as he walked with the rest of his dojo. What was up with him? He won every match he had, why did it not fuel him up with satisfaction anymore? Even messing around with other dojos wasn’t becoming as fun. It frustrated him.

“Hey, wanna go with us to a bar nearby later?” Yoon went up to him, slightly nudging his shoulder with his elbow.

Kwon snapped out of his thoughts, and stopped walking. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea, he could forget about the emptiness in his heart. “..Sure, why not. I could use some distraction.” He replied. Without saying anything else, he walked away.

· · ·

You let out a sigh of relief after managing to get inside the building where the tournament was being held. You may or may not have lied your way in by saying you were one of Cobra Kai’s backups and Sensei Kim requested you come here as an emergency.

Those at the desk were a bit skeptical, but thankfully didn’t question any further and let you pass.

You walked past the big hallways, trying to think where the rooms were, thinking he was probably resting. You couldn’t wait to see him again— his eyes, his hair, that stupid yet charming smirk he had on his face.

Suddenly, you passed by a teenage guy scrolling through his phone. Maybe he knew Kwon, it was worth asking.

“Uh..excuse me,” You started, a bit nervous as you walked up to him. “Do you know the room number Kwon Jae-Sung is staying in?”

Demetri looked up, an eyebrow raised at the..random question. Out of all the questions you could have asked, this one didn’t cross his mind. He glanced around the room, noticing how it was only you and him. “I don’t think..I can give out that information.” He replied.

“Oh, no. It’s not like that—” You said quickly. “I’m his partner. I wanted to see if he’s okay.”

“Partner?” Demetri repeated. “As in, sparring partner? Then you should kn—”

“No!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You cleared your throat before continuing, “I meant..I’m his partner..romantically.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Demetri said, before nodding slightly. He leaned in to whisper the room number, then sat back down. “I’m sure he’s doing very fine.. but that’s the number.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Relief washed over you, as you quickly left, going to the elevators.

Demetri watched as you left, before his eyes widened. “Wait. What if they’re not his partner?”

· · ·

Kwon got out of the elevator, laughing along with his team members who were all drunk and held onto each other for support.

Being at the bar did help him be distracted for a while, drinking along while the rest were doing bets on who could drink the most without getting drunk at all.

“Hey, why don’t we go out again for some more fun? It isn’t too late,” One of them suggested.

“Not a bad idea. Let’s go,— Kwon, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. You guys go ahead.” He said. The others left, leaving him alone.

He opened the door to his room, shutting it behind him and turned on the lock. Walking over to his bed, he began to take off his shirt and draped a towel around his waist. Just as he was going to enter the shower, a finger tapped on his shoulder.

As he turned around, he was taken by surprise.

You were standing there, with a mischievous smile.

How did you get in his room? Was he dreaming? Was he too tired after training? Did he drink too much? Did he—

“I got you~!” You said with a chuckle.

He couldn’t feel his heartbeat— he couldn’t believe it. You were here, in front of him. After months of longing, of only talking through a screen, you were standing right there, your bodies’ mere inches away from the other. Without thinking, he closed the distance between you two, pulling you into his arms.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled into your hair, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, feeling the warmth of your body against his.

You laughed softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze, “I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Yeah..and you did,” He replied. “but now that you’re here..” His eyes trailed over your body up and down, voice low. The tension built between you both was obvious, the look in his eyes said it.

His lips twitched into a smirk, pulling you close to him again, “Tell me my love, did you miss me a lot?” He asked, in a teasing yet flirtatious tone.

“Maybe, who knows?” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Want to find out?”

Kwon didn’t reply, his lips crashing on yours as his hands instinctively held onto your waist. The kiss deepened, hinting at the need that every inch of his body begged for. It was obvious to you—he wanted more.

Your fingers went up his chest, your other hand pulling him even closer to you–if that was possible.

He pulled away for a second, as your eyes met. His dark eyes were full of lust, but also shone with a hint of mischief. Before you knew it, Kwon leaned in again, kissing your jaw and trailing down to your collarbone. Removing a hand that was on your hip, he held onto your leg, lifting it up as you curled it around his waist.

Kwon kept kissing your body, the sounds that left your lips only fueling his desire. He had your back pressed against the wall, and began to take off your shirt.

“Fuck..” He silently cursed to himself as he looked up to see your expression— cheeks red as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Looking like a mess, how cute. And just for me, right?”

You nodded frantically, wanting him to stop teasing and continue.

Knowing you were desperate, Kwon chuckled. “Don’t worry love, after so many months apart, I’m not done with you just yet.”

HELP I FEEL SO EMBARRASSED I FEEL LIKE I DID SO BAD ON THIS 💀 well it was definitely interesting to do lol..time to work on those other requests now

[maldaptivedreamer]

Lonely Souls - Arcane

One lonely soul comforts another for a night.

content: Vi x reader, errors/mistakes, pit fighter Vi, alcoholism to cope, drunk Vi, vulnerable Vi, injured Vi, name calling, no sex but intimacy, reader bathes Vi, brief aggression from man at beginning, angst/comfort i think

wc: ~3.5k

a/n: Sooo, this is my first Arcane fic, but insanely excited. Don't know if this good but I have more I'm workin on. Can't believe arcane's over and idk wth I'm sposed to do now.

MINORS DNI NSFW 18+

Main Masterlist

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you massage your temple with two fingers, trying to ease the building headache.

“You frigid whore! Think you’re too good for me!?! For my money!?!” The man struggles helplessly in the unmoving arms of Wik. Wik grunts, his expression unreadable as he gazes at you.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you dismiss Wik with a wave of your hand. He silently turns and disappears, the beaded curtains rattling together behind him. The man’s hysterical screaming rings in your ears.

Sinking back into the plush cushions of the couch, you sigh and shut your eyes.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of heels clicking on the floor interrupts your attempt to ease the strain in your eyes.

You frown and slowly raise your head to face her. With a raised eyebrow, you wait.

Babbette's large, crimson eyes are narrowed in concern. She takes a step toward you, lifting a slim hand. Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly lift your arm into her grip. Her long nails dig into your skin as she inspects the deep scratches marring its surface.

Her eyes darken briefly before she releases your arm, allowing you to pull it back. With a dry tone, you speak. “I’m fine… Guess, I should stick to my regulars, huh?”

Babbette doesn't entertain your joke. She takes a long drag from her cigarette, studying you carefully for a long moment before finally speaking up. “Any chance you wanna tell me why you’re here? You don’t have any clients today…” You ignore the knowing tone of her voice.

Maintaining steady eye contact, you shrug stoically. “No.”

Babbette gives you a meaingful look but nods in understanding, silently waving her cigarette at you as she turns to leave. "Go home. Don't come back unless you have a client," she warns you before disappearing between the beaded curtains.

You watch her leave, the clicking of her heels fading. The silence that follows is deafening, the sounds of the brothel beyond your room feeling far and distant.

Sighing deeply, you rub a harsh hand over your face. The adrenaline from the earlier altercation is wearing off, leaving you feeling drained and hollow.

You know why you're here. But admitting it, even to yourself, feels like a step you're not ready to take. It's easier to lose yourself in the brothel, in the false intimacy and fleeting connections. Anything to avoid facing the emptiness that awaits you at home.

Slowly, you rise from the cushions, your body protesting with every movement. The scratches on your arm burn as you reach for your coat.

Gritting your teeth, you step out into the grimy street. The smell of vomit and stale beer invades your nostrils and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. The pounding behind your eyes intensifies, throbbing in sync with the pulsing of neon lights.

With a huff, you wrap your coat tighter around your body. 

As you continue walking, the crowd thins and the darkness grows deeper. You feel a sense of relief at the quiet, your headache slowly easing.

Your home. Small. Dingy. But it's yours. 

You can feel the tension in your body simultaneously ease and worsen with each step you take. Swallowing hard, you try to push down the growing sense of loneliness in your stomach and the conflicting need to be alone.

The feeling of another person is overwhelming. It burns your skin. Makes you want to peel it back and run… But it can be freeing. Touching someone else, caring for someone else and tending to their needs brings you a deep sense of contentment. You crave, yearn for it, that connection with someone. A connection that you’ll never have.

That sense of loss is overwhelming and you feel a gasp bubbling in your throat. Stumbling into a wall as you choke on your breath, you allow the cool brick to ground you. Closing your eyes, you run a hand over the rough texture of brick. 

A sudden crash and slurred cursing from a nearby alley startles you. The tightness in your chest eases, replaced by a rush of adrenaline as your instincts kick in. As you cautiously approach the noise, your hand slips into the pocket of your skirt.

But as you round the corner, your posture relaxes and your hand falls limp at your side. You recognize the figure- drunk, off balance and stumbling, but familiar. 

Vi. Your heart clenches at the sight of her, drunk and alone.

She’s become one of your regulars. A client, the only client, that makes your job not feel like one. You’ve developed a certain… fondness for her. One you shouldn’t have. One that could get you into trouble… like today.

It's impossible to deny the growing affection you have for her. After all, the loneliness in her eyes is one you know intimately- in every lingering touch, every desperate grip on your skin, every breath consumed.

"Vi?" you call softly, stepping into the alley.

She twists, nearly losing her balance as she faces you. Her clouded blue eyes struggle to find you in the dim light and she squints as she tries to place you. Recognition dawns slowly.

“Princess, watchu doin’ here?” Her slurred words muddle together and you sigh, taking in her disheveled appearance. You can make out a fresh bruise on her cheekbone.

"I could ask you the same thing." Your reply is soft and you take careful steps closer, your heels echoing in the narrow alley. "You okay?"

Vi snorts. "’M doin’ jus’ peachy, princess." Her shoe catches on a pile of garbage and she stumbles.

You quickly step forward, your hands instinctively reaching out to steady her before she falls. As soon as your hands meet her skin, she collapses into you, her head burying itself in the crook of your neck. You grunt as she leans into you, your knees almost buckling beneath you. You can smell the cheap liquor on her breath, mixed with the scent of sweat and blood on her skin.

The smell of alcohol intensifies as she mumbles against your skin, her words barely decipherable. "'M tired, princess… So fuckin' tired."

Furrowing your brow with concern, you hold her close to you, supporting her weight as she leans on you. "Let's get you home." Your voice is tender. "Where are you staying, gorgeous?" You hate seeing her like this. You’ve only ever seen her hurting. You desperately wish you could take away all of her pain, all of her hurt.

She doesn't answer and you gently nudge her, coaxing her eyes to meet yours. Seeing that you have her attention, you repeat your question. “Vi, where’s your home?”

She shrugs and tightens her arm around you. With a vague wave of her hand, she responds, nearly losing her balance. "Dunno. Don't matter."

Your heart clenches at the lost look in her eyes. You know you shouldn't, but… "My place isn't far."

Vi's unfocused gaze finds yours, a flicker of surprise crossing her powder blue eyes before they darken in defense. Her voice is gruff and the clearest it’s been. “You don’t have to.”

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the heaviness in your chest. "I know I don't have to. I want to."

Vi stares at you for a long moment, her brows downturned in a frown.

With a nonchalant shrug of your shoulder, you attempt to give her an unconcerned glance. “You’ve got two options, gorgeous. A mediocre, semi-warm, semi-soft bed. Or a shitty alley.”

After a moment of contemplation, she nods and leans more of her weight against you. "Lead the way, princess."

The walk to your apartment is slow and unsteady. Vi stumbles more than once, and you have to pause frequently to readjust your grip on her. By the time you reach your door, you're both breathing heavily.

You fumble with your keys, struggling to keep Vi upright with one arm while unlocking the door with the other. Finally, you manage to get inside, kicking the door shut behind you.

Darkness greets you as you stagger into your apartment, wincing when your toe painfully collides with a sharp corner.

Vi chuckles at your soft curse, her breath hot against your neck. "Smooth, princess."

With groping hands, you search for the light switch amidst the darkness and roll your eyes. "Yeah and you’re just the epitome of smooth right now, gorgeous."

With gentle yet confident steps, you guide her further into your apartment. You can't help but feel a little self-conscious about the mess of your home, but you try to push those thoughts aside as you focus on helping Vi.

Entering your bedroom, she suddenly tenses up, her muscles tightening beneath your hands. "Wait," she slurs, trying to pull away. "I can't... I don't have any money on me."

A lump forms in your throat at her words. "Hey, no," you say softly yet firmly, facing her with empathy in your eyes. "This isn't about money, Vi. I'm just trying to help you."

She blinks at you, confusion clear in her bleary eyes. "But… why?"

Swallowing back your own emotions, you choose to ignore her question.

Vi grunts as you guide her to your small bed, her weight nearly pulling you both down. You manage to lower her onto the mattress, where she immediately flops onto her back with a groan.

"Shit, princess," she slurs, throwing an arm over her eyes. "Your place is nicer than mine."

You snort softly, moving to remove her boots. "Doubt that. It's a shithole, but it's home."

Vi props herself up on her elbows, watching you with glossy eyes and she repeats her question. "Why're you doin' this?" she asks, her voice small and uncertain.

You pause, looking up at her. Your throat tightens as you find yourself unable to look away at the raw vulnerability in her stare. "I… maybe I see a little bit of myself in you… and I- I care about you, Vi." You admit hoarsely, the words heavy with truth and emotion. You swallow hard, knowing that you are treading dangerous waters with your confession. Your voice comes out in a low whisper, almost apologetically. "Maybe more than I should."

She stares at you, her brow creasing in confusion and uncertainty. But before she can respond, you quickly rise to your feet, needing to create distance between you both. “The water is lukewarm at best, but there’s a shower through the door.” You offer awkwardly, gesturing towards the bathroom with a trembling hand. You try to compose yourself by smoothing down the wrinkles in your dress.

Turning to leave, you wince at the sound of your own footsteps echoing in the quiet room. Hesitating at the door, you spin back to face her with a soft look, hoping she can see the sincerity in your eyes. “Do- do you think that you’ll need help?” Your words hang heavy in the air.

The brothel was a world of its own, where the air was thick with desire and the walls were lined with secrets. While there was a slight sense of yearning with each lingering caress, every gentle brush of the other’s lips, this is different. This is far more vulnerable and intimate than lust. This would mean more.

You both know that this will change everything.

Vi's eyes soften, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. She swallows hard, her throat bobbing. "I... yeah. I think so." She admits, her voice rough.

You silently nod as you try to process the weight of the trust she's placing in you.

With careful tenderness, you help Vi to her feet and guide her towards the small bathroom. Her eyes remain downcast, refusing to meet yours.

Placing her on the toilet seat, you turn to the bathtub. The sound of rushing water fills the cramped space, bouncing off the tiled walls. Guiding Vi out of her jacket, her muscles tense under your touch but she doesn't pull away. You can see the pain etched on her face as she struggles to hide it.

Taking a deep breath, you fight to keep your expression neutral. Her delicate skin is marred with bruises - some still angry and inflamed, others fading into sickly greens and yellows. Small cuts line her arms, their edges crusted over with dried blood.

Setting aside her jacket, you carefully begin to unroll the bandages on her arms. Each strip reveals more damaged skin underneath. Your heart aches as you run your hands over the tender areas, trying to soothe away some of the hurt. Vi's eyes flutter closed, her tense body slowly relaxing under your gentle touch.

Moving on to the next arm, you continue to remove the bandages with careful precision.

As you step away from her, Vi's hand darts out to grab yours in a desperate hold. Meeting her gaze with a reassuring look, you press your lips to her bruised knuckles before gently laying her hand on her lap. Patting it softly, you slowly move towards the tub and turn off the water.

Licking your dry lips, you lower to your knees. Inhaling, your fingers hover over the bandages on her chest. Despite Vi's nod of approval, your fingers still hesitate as they reach for the bandages. She nods again and raises her arms with a wince.You peel away the gauze slowly.. Each layer falls away, exposing more of her skin. You keep your movements clinical, professional.

Not glancing at her chest, you watch her blue eyes. Searching for any sign of uncomfortability or hesitation.

Giving her a soft smile, you shove the bandages in a small pile and raise your hands to her pants. Your soft voice pierces the peaceful atmosphere. “Think you can help me out?”

Nodding, she grunts with effort as she rises from the toilet. Rising, you help her undo her pants and she steadies herself on your shoulders.

Stepping out her pants, she watches you glance at her from beneath your lashes. Vi feels a discomforting warmth at your care, your softness. Licking her dry lips, her voice comes out raspy in vulnerability that she tries to hide. “If I was sober, princess, I'd be taking you apart right now."

You send her a kind but perceptive look."I know, gorgeous." You murmur, helping her step into the tub. "Let's focus on taking care of you first."

Vi hisses as she sinks into the warm water, her muscles tensing before slowly relaxing. You grab a washcloth and begin to gently clean her wounds, careful not to aggravate the wounds that litter her skin. The washcloth quickly dirties and you grab another.

You bring the fresh cloth to her face and begin to wipe her face free of black grease. Vi watches you with heavy-lidded eyes. "I’m sorry." she slurs, her voice thick with exhaustion and lingering alcohol.

You pause, the washcloth hovering over the VI on her cheek, and meet her guilty eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for Vi. Not to me."

She shakes her head, as she pulls away from your touch. Drawing her knees to her chest, she wraps her arms around them and turns to face the wall. "I-” Vi chokes out, but stops as sobs wrack through her body.

You can feel tears cloud your eyes and you envelop her in your arms. She quickly shoves her face into your neck and pulls you to her desperately. 

You ignore the material of your shirt sticking to your skin, the smell of sweat and alcohol that still lingers on her skin. Ignore the rim of the tub as it digs into your hips. Ignore the way her nails claw into your skin in anguish.

You hold Vi as she cries, her body shaking with each sob. Your fingers thread through her damp black hair, gently massaging her scalp in an attempt to soothe her. The water sloshes around her as she trembles, but you pay it no mind, focused solely on comforting the broken woman in your arms.

"Shh, I've got you, Vi. You're safe." You murmur softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "I’m here."

Her sobs gradually subside, replaced by shaky breaths and occasional hiccups. She doesn't move from your embrace, her face still buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel her eyelashes flutter against your skin as she blinks away the last of her tears.

"I'm a mess." Vi’s voice is hoarse and muffled against your skin.

You release an understanding breath and speak dryly. “I don’t know anyone who isn’t, gorgeous.”

You part from her and cup her face gently, your thumb tracing the tattoo on her cheek. “Think you can stand, gorgeous.” You nudge your head at the darkened water. “Your skin’s gettin’ wrinkly and I think you need to rinse off again.”

Vi nods weakly, her eyes still red-rimmed and puffy. You help her to her feet, steadying her as she sways slightly. 

The water drains away, grime and blood swirling down. You turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature before guiding Vi under the spray.

You step into the shower and let her lean on you as you run your lathered hands across her skin. Vi stands still, allowing you to care for her.

You can feel how exhausted she is as she presses into you. Her hands loosely wrapped around your hips.

Humming, you tap her back and tenderly remove her face from your neck. Her long lashes brush her cheeks as she closes her eyes. Your soft fingers rub any remnants of grime and makeup from her face.

Vi leans into your touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips as you scrub the soap through her hair. She releases a hushed breath as your fingers comb over her head, savoring the feeling of your hands massaging gentle circles on her scalp. The warm water cascades over both of you, steam rising around your bodies. 

"Feels nice." She murmurs, her voice barely audible over the sound of running water.

Your lips twitch into a small smile as you continue your ministrations. "Good. You deserve to feel nice, Vi."

Her eyes flutter open at that, meeting yours with a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty. You hold her gaze, your fingers still working through her hair.

"Do I?" she asks, her voice small and hesitant.

Your heart clenches at the doubt in her voice. "You do.” Smoothing your hands across her face, you push her head back and rinse her hair. “Wash yourself and then we’ll be all done, gorgeous.”

Vi nods slowly, her movements still unsteady as she begins to wash her intimate areas. You keep a supportive hand on her waist, ready to catch her if she stumbles. As she finishes, you turn off the water and reach for a towel.

Wrapping the towel around her, you help Vi step out of the shower. Exhaustion is evident in every line of her body and you dry her to the best of your ability. Your clothes and hair leave a trail of water as you guide her back to the bedroom, sitting her on the edge of the bed.

"Wait here," you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll get you something to wear."

You rummage through your drawers, pulling out an oversized t-shirt and a pair of soft shorts. When you turn back, Vi is slumped forward, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow.

Touching her shoulder, you gather the shirt in your arms and stretch the collar over her head. Vi lazily helps you put her arms through the shirt and you bend to drag the shorts up her legs.

Vi's eyelids flutter, her gaze unfocused as you finish dressing her. She mumbles something incoherent, her head lolling forward. You catch her gently, easing her back onto the bed.

"Easy there, gorgeous," you murmur, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead.

You maneuver her under the covers, tucking them around her body. Vi burrows into the pillow, her eyes already closed. You stand there for a moment, watching the rise and fall of her chest, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over you.

Sighing softly, you turn to leave, but a hand shoots out from under the covers, grasping weakly at your wrist.

"Stay," Vi mumbles, her eyes cracking open just enough to meet yours. "Please."

Your heart stutters in your chest. You know you shouldn't. But the vulnerability in her gaze, the need in her voice, makes your resolve crumble.

"Okay." You whisper back. "Just let me change and I’ll be right-”

Her blue eyes shoot open and her grip grows tighter. “Please don’t leave.”

You waver and lick your lips in resignation, nodding. Gently untangling her grip on your hand, she watches you go to your dresser and pull out another pair of clothes.

She calms as you quickly change and climb into bed behind her.

Vi immediately turns and burrows into your chest, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You can feel her breath hot against your collarbone, her body trembling slightly.

"I've got you. I’m here," you murmur, running your fingers through her damp hair.

She nods against your chest. You can feel the tension slowly leaving her body as you continue to stroke her hair, humming softly under your breath.

The room falls silent save for the sound of your quiet humming and Vi's steadying breaths.

[pandapetals]

…i have an idea that im unsure on whether or not i can write it myself & i’m OBSESSED with how well you always characterize logan so hear me out

i’m always thinking about the boxing scene in origins, so perhaps some boxer!logan where he’s teaching his girlfriend self defense in the gym after hours? you can make it as steamy or fluffy as you want!

i’ve just been dying to submit a request because i’m a fan of your work <3

AHH, thank you so much. I love your account so much! I have been wanting to write about Boxer Logan for some time so this request is literally perfect.

boxer!logan howlett x fem!reader - fluff, fighting, teasing, banter, no y/n used, no reader description, soft logan, established relationship

"Alright, sweetheart," Logan said, his voice a low rumble that echoed off the empty gym walls. He stood in front of you, hands casually raised. The white tank top he wore clung to his chest, damp with sweat, and the sheen of it caught in the flickering overhead lights. He rolled his shoulders, muscles flexing in a way that seemed entirely unfair. "You gotta learn how to defend yourself."

You fiddled with the straps of the red gloves he’d given you, tugging at them. "I know, Logan," you said, arching a brow, "but do we really need to do this? I mean, c’mon—what’s the point? I don’t want to hurt you."

He laughed, the sound warm and deep. "Hurt me? Darlin’, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried." He tilted his head at you. "But you’re welcome to give it a shot."

You narrowed your eyes, torn between amusement and the urge to wipe that smug look off his face. He looked too at ease, standing there with his hands up and that teasing smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Alright, fine," you huffed, stepping forward. "But don’t come crying to me if I accidentally break that pretty nose of yours."

"Pretty?" He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

"You would," you muttered under your breath.

Logan spread his feet into a fighting stance, nodding toward you. "C’mon, then. First lesson—don’t telegraph. You gotta keep me guessing." He raised a hand to gesture toward your shoulder. "See, you’re tense here. Makes it obvious what you’re about to do. Relax."

"Relax? That’s easy for you to say," you shot back, shaking out your arms. "You don’t have to punch you."

"Exactly," he said with a wink. "Now focus. Don’t think. Just swing."

Taking a deep breath, you stepped in and threw a jab toward his chest—not too hard, but enough to show you meant business. Logan dodged it effortlessly, leaning to the side as though it were a breeze that brushed past him. He gave you an almost pitying look, clicking his tongue.

"Sloppy," he teased, circling you like a predator playing with its prey. "That all you got, sweetheart? I thought you said you didn’t wanna hurt me."

You glared at him, your cheeks heating. "Oh, I will hurt you, Logan," you shot back, a spark of determination lighting in your chest. "Just wait."

He chuckled, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. "That’s more like it. Now stop aiming for where I am—aim for where I’m gonna be."

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing as you watched him move. He was testing you, but there was something about the glint in his eye—like he was enjoying this, not just the sparring, but you. You tried to read him, to guess his next step, and when he shifted ever so slightly, you swung again, this time aiming lower.

To your surprise, he stepped right into it, catching your gloved hand in his palm with a sharp smack. His grip was firm but careful, and he grinned down at you, clearly pleased. "Not bad," he said, his voice softening. "You’re getting there."

You groaned, tugging your hand back. "You let me get that one."

"Maybe," he said with a shrug, the cocky edge returning. "But you still gotta work on your follow-through. What if I wasn’t nice enough to stop it, huh?"

"Nice? You’re about as nice as a brick wall," you muttered, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding—not from exertion, but from the way he was looking at you.

Logan’s grin softened into something almost fond. "You’ve got more fight in you than you think," he said, reaching out to gently adjust your stance. His hands lingered on your shoulders for just a second before he stepped back. "Now, one more time. And this time, I want you to mean it."

You nodded, steeling yourself. He was still smirking, but there was something else there too—a flicker of pride, maybe, or just the satisfaction of seeing you rise to the challenge. Whatever it was, you weren’t about to let him down.

You shifted your weight, fixing your gaze on his chest as if it were a target. Then, without warning, you lunged forward, throwing your whole body into the punch. He moved to dodge, but this time you were ready—you adjusted mid-swing, your fist just grazing his ribs. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him blink, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

"Well, look at that," Logan said, stepping back and rubbing his side with exaggerated drama. "You almost got me."

"Almost?" you said, crossing your arms. "Pretty sure I felt that connect." 

"Sure, sure," he said, smirking as he leaned closer, his voice dropping. "Next time, maybe try a little harder. You might even make me flinch."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Whatever, let’s just go again.” You stepped back, shaking out your hands like a boxer psyching themselves up.

Logan smirked, circling you slowly, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and challenge. His confidence was infuriating—like he was untouchable, always one step ahead. But as he moved, you caught his focus was on your gloves, like he thought that was all you had to work with.

Big mistake.

You let your shoulders drop, exhaling slowly as if you were done. "Alright, you win," you said, feigning defeat. "You’re too good, Logan. I give up."

He tilted his head, one brow quirking in suspicion, but the grin never left his face. "Oh, c’mon now, don’t quit on me, sweetheart. Where’s that fire I saw a minute ago?"

"It’s gone," you sighed dramatically, letting your gloves hang at your sides. Then, as he paused in his pacing, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you in two quick strides. Logan’s smirk faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he sensed something coming.

Instead of throwing a punch, you leaned in and kissed him.

For a split second, Logan froze. His lips were warm and slightly parted, caught completely off guard by the sudden move. You felt his breath hitch against your mouth, and then—just as he started to kiss you back—you shifted your weight and swept your foot behind his ankle, knocking him clean off balance.

“Whoa—!” Logan grunted as he hit the mat with a thud, his broad shoulders absorbing most of the impact. He blinked up at you in shock, sprawled out flat on his back.

You straightened, grinning down at him as you tugged your gloves off one by one and tossed them aside. “Gotcha,” you said, hands on your hips.

He stared up at you, and you couldn’t tell if he was more surprised or impressed. Then, a slow, lazy smile spread across his face, and he let out a low chuckle that made your stomach flip. "Well, I’ll be damned. That was sneaky."

You crouched down beside him, trying to look innocent. “What’s the matter, big guy? Can’t handle a little creative thinking?”

“Creative thinking, huh?” Logan propped himself up on his elbows, his grin turning wolfish. “I don’t think that counts when you cheat.”

You gasped, feigning offense. “Cheat? Cheat? I think you’re just mad I finally got the drop on you.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” he drawled, his tone playful but laced with a hint of a challenge. Before you could blink, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you forward. You let out a startled laugh as you tumbled down onto the mat, landing half on top of him.

“Logan!” you protested, trying to pull back, but his arms wrapped around your waist holding you in place. He was grinning up at you now, his eyes bright with amusement that made your breath catch.

“You’re gettin’ cocky, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “But I gotta admit, that was a hell of a move.”

You smirked, leaning in just enough to meet his gaze head-on. “Guess you’re not as quick as you thought you were, huh?”

“Careful,” he murmured, his fingers brushing along your side. “You keep talkin’ like that, and I might have to teach you another lesson.”

“Oh yeah?” you shot back, your voice dropping to match his. “And what’s that?”

Instead of answering, Logan pulled you down the rest of the way and kissed you, slow and deliberate. His lips were warm and firm, and he kissed like he fought—with total confidence and just a hint of something wild beneath the surface. The world narrowed to just the two of you: the heat of his body against yours, the rough scrape of his stubble, the way his hand slid up your back like he didn’t want to let you go.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his voice was a low, satisfied rumble. “Lesson one,” he said, his smirk returning. “Never let your guard down.”

[yellowjestertfs]

Altered State: Part 1

IDK if anyone on here will be interested in this story, its kind of a long and slower but thought I would post it anyways. More parts coming next week!

Most great adventures start with a call to arms, a quest from on high, a declaration of purpose to serve the greater good. Edward’s and Leon’s started with a question asked through a mouthful of chips.

“Wanna play this new game dude?” Leon asked words barely intelligible. He stood in the doorway of their living room, his fat frame blocking most of the light. In one hand he held a bag of chips and in the other, he held up an unfamiliar battered keep case, the type that held video game disks inside. The thing had a red and blue design that Edward didn't recognize. 

“I guess. What is that thing, will it work on my Wii?” Edward asked. He lay on the couch, long thin body taking up the whole thing but sat up and moved over to make room for his roommate. 

Leon shook his head “I don’t think so dude, it's like super retro.” He walked over to the TV and started fiddling with the row of older consoles that belonged to their third roommate Alvis trying to see if any could accommodate the game. "It was free though." He said as he found the right one, an extremely retro blocky thing Edward was surprised even accepted disks. Leon booted up the system, the familiar hum of the machine filling the space. “I got it from that comic shop down the street. This buff dude at the counter just handed it to me. Said he thought I would put it to good use.”

“Alvis would kill you if he knew you were touching that,” Edward warned, always the one to show more caution. 

“Fuck Alvis. If he didn't want it to be used he shouldn’t have bought it” Leon countered. Neither of the two were particularly big fans of their other roommate, but Leon especially hated his guts. He only let the guy live with them because it made the rent cheaper and because Alvis’ weird retro tech fit in with their decor of half-finished Lego sets, empty pizza boxes, and superhero posters, and because for the most part, Alvis left the two friends alone, spending all his time in the engineering building or fiddling with tech in his room.

Leon opened the case and took out a dusty disk, growing on it to reveal the title “Altered State” and the manufacturer HunkTech, neither of which either Leon or Edward had ever heard of. Leon put the game back into Alvis’s video game console and pressed play. The TV flickered for a moment, then exploded with color so bright it forced both of them to squint. Flashes of neon light, strange symbols, and spinning images seared into their eyes, leaving dancing after images. Neither of the friends could look away, their senses overwhelmed by the pulsating lights that burned into the back of their brains. And just as suddenly as it started, the TV went black and both friends came back to themselves.

“Oh shit" Edward muttered, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. "Your game just fried the TV!Alvis is going to kill you.”

Leon opened his mouth to defend himself but before he could a green holographic display blinked into existence, floating in the air right in front of him. Growing text marched across the living room floor reading:

"Welcome to Altered State.”

Leon’s jaw dropped. "Uh, Ed? You seeing this?”

Edward stood motionless for a moment too shocked to speak. “What the fuck” he breathed “What's going on?”

Both of their holograms shifted to display naked, pixelated 3D models of the two friends, hanging awkwardly in midair. 

“Eww, what the hell,” Leon said. He tried to avert his gaze but the images followed the motion of his head and stayed even when he shut his eyes. 

Neither of the projections was a particularly flattering sight to behold.  Leon’s short, heavy frame was rendered in painful detail—his soft belly, narrow shoulders, pudgy limbs, and average penis were all fully extenuated under the brutally detailed holographic projection. Edward’s model didn’t fare any better. Tall and spindly, his twig-like arms and knobby knees, paired with a notoriously ugly face, gave him the appearance of a scarecrow. Edward was not helped much in its attractiveness by the acne on his face, the greasy thin hair on his head, and the pitifully small penis between his legs fully visible in the naked light of the hologram. 

“Your the one with your dick in my face.” Edward shot back, cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the display.  

The hologram flickered again, and new text appeared below both their models:

Analyzing subjects…

The text began to blink as new displays blinked into existence on the peripheral of both their vision, only really notable if focused on. Various menus that displayed statistics quests and a list perks were all there, though all were currently blank. The words level one along with an empty an empty progress bar beneath appeared at the top of their filed of view, though only visible to themselves and not the other. 

Neither of the two friends had time to examine the new features in detail as the words under their models shifted again.

“Analyzing Purpose: Class Selection”

"Class selected: Juggernaut.” Appeared under Leon’s character. 

Leon blinked. "Juggernaut?" he repeated, unsure what to make of the development.

Edward snickered, “I think that's the fantasy term for fatty.”

But before Leon could respond, Edward’s display changed too:

"Class selected: Snake Charmer.”

“What like I’m going to play the flute?” Edward asked.

It was Leon's turn to laugh. “No bro, the game just called you a homo.” 

It took Edward a second to understand. “Not funny,” he said swatting his best friend on the arm, blushing somehow harder. “This is seriously messed up. We need to go to the hospital or something.”

“Relax charmochondriac, don't you see what’s happening?” 

“Group psychosis?” Edward guessed.

“No dude, we are in a video game, and we fucking rule at video games.”

“Leon” Edward said warningly. Before he could say more though quests populated onto both their displays.

“Dude chill this is awesome. My first quest is easy too. I bet I can get level ten before you.”

Edward wasn’t as ready to accept this rapid series of unexplainable events but he also wasn’t ready to let his best friend think he was a chicken. “Fine. I’ll meet you back at the house when I kick your ass.”

Leon laughed and with that both boys raced out the door, shoving each other playfully to get out first. From there both took off to opposite sides of campus, towards their various objectives and their differing yet intimately intertwined destinies. 

-

Leon raced, or his version which was something between a fast walk and an awkward jog, across campus to his first quest. It seemed easy enough: “Go to the gym” it read. Leon wasn’t exactly one for physical fitness but he at least knew where the health center was from campus orientation tour.

Despite his slow pace by the time he reached it he was out of breath. For a moment he stood in front of automatic double doors, panting and intimidated. He stuck out like a sore thumb on this part of campus, dressed in the ratty strained Superman shirt and baggy shorts his protruding belly and wild unkempt hair stood in stark contrast to the muscular adonis in low tank tops and tall fit women in matching sports sets who brushed by him without a second thought. Mustering his courage Leon walked through the doors and into the gym. His ears were greeted by the sound of slamming weights, rhythmic grunts, and a small ding as he completed his first quest and leveled up. He watched as the experience bar filled fully, bumping his level up to two and filling his vision with notifications. The bar continued to fill until it had reached halfway to the next level. A notification appeared in a gray box with plain white blocky text.

You have reached level two. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Strength, +1 Charisma +0.3 Intelligence.

Leon grinned as he felt himself change. He couldn’t actually feel himself getting smarter or more charismatic. He wasn't sure if that was because those were more cognitive stats or if it was because the increase was marginal compared to his strength. Either way, it was a strength that Leon felt himself receive. It wasn't much. Leon didn’t suddenly become a hulk or a bodybuilder but he felt something shift. His shoulders widened slightly, his chest inflated a bit and his butt became less saggy. A single vein buried deep in the layers of fat in his arm engorged itself with blood and snaked its way to the surface, pushed upwards by growing muscle and diminishing fat. He felt physically stronger, faster, like he might be able to actually run a bit without throwing up. He didn't actually look all that different, a quarter of an inch taller, a few pounds shifted from fat to muscle, but inside he felt amazing, electric, like this is what he was made for. Leon suspected that feeling had to do with the other notification waiting for him just below the first.

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Gym Rat: as a juggernaut, you feel comfortable in all athletic spaces.”

Leon felt all his worries and insecurities about being in the gym fade away. He scanned his student ID and strode past the muscled jock at the front counter confidently, flashing him a smile and a slight wave. Leon felt just as comfortable in the gym as if he was at the comic book shop, no more, he felt like he was at home chilling with Edward, like he could do anything and give a damn about who judged him. Leon knew he should be concerned about how this game had physically changed his body and mind so easily but he was too invigorated, too electrified, and he had another quest to do. 

“Do a push-up.” It read simply. 

Leon hadn’t tried to do a push-up since 8th grade gym class but he felt confident he was capable of it with the boost to strength he had received. Leon weaved through the various machines and stations manned by the university’s resident hunks and athletes, some gave him dirty looks but most looked right through him. Leon found he couldn’t care less. He found a corner of the free mat and assumed the push-up position. Despite the recent slight boost to his athleticism, it was a task easier said than done. Leon went down as far as he could until he felt his arms begin to shake, about an inch, then pushed himself up with substantial effort.

To his disappointment, the quest still read as incomplete. He reasoned it must be due to his, form. He tried to go lower but ended up face-first on the mat, unable to push himself up. He went to his knees and did a push-up but that didn’t count either. Nor did a push-up with his butt out in the air, or one in which he rested on the ground for a few seconds in the middle. Leon was about to give up when he saw a guy around his age approach. 

He didn't have the same gorilla bulk as some of the huge men in the gym but his body was visibly lean and defined through his tee-shirt, maybe a runner. “Need any help there” he asked. Leon couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or mocking but his new total comfort in the gym provided by his “Gym Rat” perk made him not care. 

“I’m trying to do a push-up.”

“Just one?” The guy asked with a grin. 

“Gotta start somewhere,” Leon said humbly. 

“Your problem is your stance.” He said. He instructed Leon to assume the plank position and then went about correcting Leon’s form. His arms were too close together, his core was not properly engaged, back not fully straight. The man introduced himself as Cal and then instructed Leon to try again. Leon tried another pushup lowering his body slowly “Lower, lower” Cal called Leon and complied though his face turned red and he wanted to die. Cal didn't let him stop till the tip of his dick was practically touching the mat. Then he went back up, slowly and with more exertion than he had ever used in his whole life. 

He was rewarded with a ding and a slew of notifications. 

“You have reached level three. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Strength, +1 Charisma +0.3 Intelligence.” 

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Perfect Form: as a juggernaut, you instinctually know the proper form to maximize the performance of any athletic endeavor.”

Leon felt his body shift again from where it lay crumpled on the mat. His stomach deflated slightly, and under his man boobs pecs started to form. His legs lengthened a bit causing his shorts to only reach his knees instead of past them. The changes were as small as the first but Leon couldn’t help but feel amazed. He tried to do another push-up and found that his body now naturally assumed the perfect position without him having to think about it. With his new points in strength, he was able to push out another perfect military-style push-up, and two more before he flopped down onto the mat, fully spent.

“You're getting the hang of it,” Cal said smiling. If he had seen Leon's body change he made no indication. “good luck on your workout,” he called out as he left.

“Yeah see you around man” Leon called after him. He felt on cloud nine. At this rate, Leon would reach level 10 by the hour. On cue, two more quests appeared for him to complete. He wondered how Edward was doing, if he had even gained one level by now. Maybe once Leon had power gamed his way into OP status he could help his friend with a quest or two. 

-

Edward walked across the quad at a brisk pace. He would have run if his bony arms and legs didn't make him look like a chicken when he did. Edward wasn’t quite as sold on this whole bizarre real life video game thing as Leon was but he also wasn’t about to let Leon leave him in the dust. Edward's first quest was pretty simple if non-specific, “be within 50 feet of 30 or more people”. 

Edwards tendency to avoid large crowds gave him the advantage of knowing exactly where they often were. The coffee shop by the quad came right to his mind. At this time of the day, the place was packed with students either leaving or going to their mid-day classes. The place terrified Edward, the thought of so many eyes on him, judging him, mocking him, and yet Edward reasoned there was no harm in at least checking the place out, it not as if the quest required him to talk to anyone. 

As he walked Edward wondered at the game. Leon, true to self had accepted the game right away without question. If his friend was muscular instead of fat he might be called a himbo. It wasn’t that he was dumb, he was getting a degree in public health, but he also didn't have a habit of thinking things through particularly throughly. Their freshmen year Leon had built a glider out of the shower curtain and broke his arm jumping off the second floor of their dorm with it. And last year Leon had thought it was a good idea to subscribe to some shady porn website that had given his computer a virus so corruptive even tech wizard Alvis couldn’t remove it. 

Though they were inseparable best friend Edward was the opposite. He was much more cautious about everything, sometimes to irrational extremes. Last semester Edward had almost dropped out because he was too nervous to get approval for his classes from his sociology advisor. If he was scared of his sixty-five year old sweet as candy professor talking to guys he liked was surly out of the question, not that he would have any hope of success with his appearance. 

As Edward walked across the quad he avoided eye contact with students crowded onto the open green sitting and chatting or throwing frisbees. Edward felt drowned in the sea of people, though the lawn wasn’t nearly dense enough to fulfill the quest. 

The line for the coffee shop was out the door which made him want to throw up. He walked slowly forward waiting for the quest to complete. Finally, when he was only a few feet away, practically in line the quest was fulfilled and his experience bar to level two filled fully.

Edward heard a “ding” in his head and several notifications filled his vision startling him.  

“You have reached level two. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Charisma, +1 Intelligence +0.3 Strength.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“People Person: Those around you feel your natural charm and are more likely to accept you in a neutral or positive way, potentially even striking up a conversation.”

Edward felt a strange itch on his brow and a pressure on his jaw but ignored it. He didn't know what to make of the messages. The stats seemed somewhat consistent with role-playing video games, and he supposed the break down made sense with his class. Still, he wasn’t sure how something like charisma would be incorporated into real life, nor his new People Person perk. As a sociology major Edward knew all too well how complex human interaction was. The perk seemed to imply that not only would the game be changing him but also the people around him and their perceptions. He wasn’t sure if that was even possible not to mention ethical.

“Introduce yourself to a stranger,” the next quest said popping up on the side of Edward's vision. That more than any ethical quandary made Edward scared. It was all well and good for the game to claim that people would react positively to Edward but he knew firsthand that wasn’t true. 

“Hey, are you in line” two girls who had walked up behind him asked. Edward froze, realizing he had positioned himself at an awkward spot half in line half not. The girls didn't seem disgusted by his presence but they also didn't seem particularly enthralled, they just wanted to get their coffee. 

Edward nodded his head, the best he could do with his crippling social anxiety. He moved more obviously in line and the girl went back to chatting. As the line crept closer Edward tried and failed several times to work up the courage to introduce himself to the girls. He came up with various scenarios in his head of how he could make an introduction, all of which ended with the girl calling him a creep. 

Finally, after ten minutes, Edward reached the front of the line. He realized in his attempts to complete the quest he hadn’t so much as glanced at the menu. 

“What will you be having today” a tall tan worker asked, his tattooed arms pleasantly stretching out the sleeves of his shirt. Edward just opened and closed his mouth like a fish, mind suddenly blank of every coffee drink ever, including coffee. 

The worker, whose name tag ironically read “Tag” saw his confusion and smiled. “It's a big menu I know. It's fall, so you can never go wrong with a PSL.” He saw Edwards look confused and he sheepishly clarified “Pumpkin spice latte.”

“I’ll do that,” Edward said, voice quiet but clear. He took a deep breath then before he could think about it blurted out “I’m Edward by the way”. 

Tag gave a handsome grin and wrote the name on a cup. “Thanks, Edward, I’ll that get you out for you right away.”

Edward heard a “ding” but ignored it and the notifications that popped up as he paid on the tablet Tag turned towards him. His hands shook as he selected the largest tip options and stumbled over to the designated area to stand while waiting for a drink and looked at the notifications. 

“You have reached level three. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Charisma, +1 Intelligence, +0.3 Strength.”

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Social Sync: You are naturally attuned to the tone and rhythm of conversation making awkward pauses and interruptions a thing of the past.”

New quests popped up as well, two this time. “Make someone laugh” and “Offer someone advice.”

As the messages appeared Edward felt the same strange pain in his face, like the soreness he sometimes got after smiling all day with Leon. He lifted a hand to his face and felt skin much smoother than his normal rough, dry, pockmarked complexion. His weak chin, which had always been a source of insecurity no longer felt totally concave but pushed out somewhat lending a strange sharpness to his jaw. Edward was about to take out his phone to examine his reflection when he heard a voice beside him. 

“He’s so dreamy, isn’t he,” a man said in his right ear. All his life Edward had been painfully scrawny, wrists the size of cucumber and ribs showing through his pale skin. This man was even more slender like he could break with a strong gust of wind. He held a coffee cup that had the name Trent on the side. The guy didn't seem to mind Edwards's silence and continued staring at Tag longingly. “The coffee here is so bitter but the eye candy is so sweet” he mused. 

“Yeah that guy is what I would call a full-sized candy bar” the comment came out before Edward had time to think. It was a mediocre joke, wordy and unoriginal to a fault, but to painfully shy and unfunny Edward he felt like he was a standup comedian. Trent smiled and gave a slight chuckle, though his quest remained incomplete, probably because the laugh was fake.

“He’s a Snickers, and let's just say I’m not allergic to nuts.” Edward tried again, this time eliciting a better reaction from Trent. A slight giggle was all it took for the quest to complete and Edwards' experience bar to increase half the way to level four. 

“Well both of us are going to go hungry. He’s straight.”

“Really” Edward asked. As a closeted gay until he was 19, when he had finally worked up the courage to tell Leon, Edward thought he had pretty good gaydar, and that Tag guy was anything but straight. “How do you know?” He asked Social Sync perk causing him to put the perfect pause between his declaration of doubt and his question without him even noticing.

“He used to date some girl” Trent responded with a touch of disgust.

“Maybe he’s bi,” Edward said and Trent’s face lit up as if he had never considered the thought.

“Oh wow, do you really think so” He asked excitedly. “Now that you say it he is kind of flirty when he gives me my drink.”

“You should just go up and talk to him” Edward advised sagely. “I mean what is the worst that could happen.” The advice was hollow seeing as how Edward had never even breathed in the direction of any of his crushes. Trent seemed to sense this and looked at Edward dubiously. The game system however didn't seem to care. It marked his “give advice” quest as complete and alerted him he had reached level four with a ding. At this rate, Leon didn't stand a chance of reaching level ten before him. 

“You have reached level four. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Charisma, +1 Intelligence, +0.3 Strength.”

“Sage: Your charisma gives you an innate knowledge of people's desires, both conscious and unconscious. Note: The higher your charisma the more attuned this sense becomes. Note: this effect is 92.22% more effective on people with a penis.”

Edward felt a shift both in his physiology and in his brain, like before he felt his face move, bones like continental plates drifting every so slightly apart into a more attractive configuration. 

Inside his head, he felt something shift far more drastically. The three +1 boosts to his intelligence had been so slight he barely noticed them, just a slight speeding up of his thoughts and a boost to his reasoning ability. This new change in his mind was drastic, impossible not to notice. A sixth sense emerged, filling his head with a source of knowledge he wasn’t quite sure what to do with. It was almost as if he had gained the ability to read minds only not so strong and without any words, only feelings. Suddenly Edward felt Trent’s desire, a sexual one, not just for the barista, but also for the group of frat boys in the corner of the shop and strangely enough for Edward. He felt others' desires too, though much less clearly. 

Two guys standing to his left both hoped the other would buy the alcohol for tonight's party. The other men in the shop only gave wisps of desire. Edward suspected that had something to do with proximity and his still relatively low charisma.

The women on the other hand Edward could barely sense, only receiving a small tingle like TV static instead of anything readable. Edward wondered at that strange 92.22% bonus towards men. Edward took a moment to reflect on the class he had been assigned. Could Leon be right? Could the name of his class be a gay joke, that he was meant to charm not venomous creatures in baskets but instead the snake in men's pants? It seemed somehow too vulgar for a video game though Edward knew that was illogical. If it was true it begged some concerning questions, like how the game had known he was gay and what exactly it was setting him up to do. 

“Would you go talk to him?” Trent asked suddenly snapping Edward back to the present. His sixth sense faded to the back of his mind, though he could still sense Trent’s desire. “Sorry I know that's a lot to ask but I think you would have more luck than me.” He looked at Edward with puppy dog eyes filled with earnest hope. “Be my wingman?”

A notification appeared obscuring a part of Edward’s vision. 

“Quest offered! Set up Trent and Tag romantically. Reward: XP”

A box under the quest notification had two boxes with “yes” and “no” options. Edward had no idea how to select either option. Out loud he said “I’ll do my best,” the notification disappeared and reappeared small in the quest part of his interface. 

Trent smiled “Really? I can’t thank you enough.” He felt Trent’s desire shift from lust to hope. “Just like using a pickup line or something. Don’t make it too awkward” he said suddenly nervous.

“Don’t worry I got this,” Edward said with about 1000% times more confidence than he felt. He had absolutely no business getting other people's tail when he was still a virgin himself. Edward just knew he was going to make an absolute fool of himself.

-

It turned out that the quests to advance to level four were not as easy as Leon had imagined. The first quest “run a lap” proved exhausting but doable. Leon made his way to the elevated track that encircled the gym and with perfect form, if less perfect endurance, ran the loop. Before the game, Leon would have had to walk most of it, but the two levels and six points he had gained in strength allowed him to push through with a slow jog. The quest's completion bumped him 3/4 of the way to level four. He had no doubt the other quest would get him all the way there if only it was possible. 

“Do a pull-up.” How hard could one pull up be? Extremely difficult it turned out. Dangling from the elevated bar Leon tried with all his might to heft his flabby body up. He only managed to lift his head halfway before the effort became too much and he was forced to give up. 

Leon knew it wasn’t his form keeping him from completing the exercise like it had been with the push-up. Instead, it came down to a plain and simple lack of strength. Leon didn't know what to do. He felt frustrated that he had hit a roadblock so soon. He looked at the experience progress bar, so tantalizingly close to the next level. Maybe he would have to do it the old-fashioned way. Train his back and his biceps extensively until he could do a pull-up on his own. Leon knew something like that would take weeks if not months but he was nothing if not stubborn.

Determined not to give up Leon found a set of dumbbells and began to lift with perfect form. The activity didn't provide the same instant gratification as leveling up did, but Leon was starting to understand how people could get addicted to this. As he worked his eyes wandered to the graphical display imprinted on either side of his vision. He found he could unfocus on the information and the display would blur unobscuring his vision. He focused again and the quest and progress bar came back into his field of vision. Leon couldn’t tell if he was imagining it but it seemed as if the bar was more full. He did a few more curls and watched the progress bar tick up the tiniest amount. He lifted the other arm and it moved again. He grabbed the largest weight he could conceivably lift and using all this strength curled it with both arms, the progress bar moved, still not much but more than before. Leon grinned. He was pretty sure he had just found an exploit.

Thirty minutes later a tired Leon prepared for his last set of leg presses to get him to level four. The “exploit” he had found wasn’t as much of a hack as he had originally hoped. Working out gave him experience to fill the bar but not nearly as efficiently as quests. He had to go from machine to machine loading up the maximum amount of weight he could lift, not much, and completing various exercises until that part of his body was completely exhausted. His “perfect form” perk ensured that he was able to complete each exercise to its fullest despite not knowing how to do any of the exercises. All he had to do was approach a machine or a set of weights and his body would suddenly assume the position.

Even with his perfect form protecting him from injury Leon was exhausted. The day's gym session was more exercise than he had ever done in his life. His hair was matted to his forehead and dark sweat spots had appeared around the collar and pits of his Superman shirt. His body felt like a sack of bricks like he could fall asleep and not wake up till his next birthday. Leon persisted and as he performed his tenth leg press he heard a ding. His legs slammed back to their resting position and he breathed heavily, feeling his body begin to change and notifications pop up. 

“You have reached level four. You receive attribute points based on your class: +3 Strength, +1 Charisma +0.3 Intelligence.” 

“You have gained a class perk.”

“Animal Endurance: The rate at which athletic activities tire you is decreased significantly while the rate of recovery is greatly improved. Note: the potency of this effect scales off of strength.”

Leon felt his muscles harden, his arms bulge, his legs bulk up and shift. His core burned as his abs shredded themselves and strengthened. The layer of fat on Leon’s body, though still present thinned. Underneath it his muscles went from average to distinctly fit, no great titan yet but also not a slouch either. His weariness from all the exercise it took to reach level four drained away thanks to his perk and Leon once again felt reinvigorated. 

He marched over to the nearest pull-up bar and with only a small amount of effort hoisted himself up with the power of his upper body. The completed quest brought him a third of the way up to level five. Two more quests appeared. “Bench press a third of your body weight.” And “exchange workout tips”. Neither seemed especially difficult. 

Leon looked around to see if he could find Cal to knock out the more social of the quests but the helpful runner was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Leon found a benchpress machine and went to load it up. Leon was shocked to realize he had no idea what his body weight was. Before Altered Reality, Leon had weighed 230 pounds, now though he could be anything. Leon squinted at the holographic display in the sides of his vision and found with effort he was able to bring up a stats page. 

Leon: 

210 Pounds

5’10’’ Feet

Strength: 11

Charisma: 7

Intelligence: 8.9

When he played video games with his roommates Alvis was the one who focused on the numbers, min-maxing his character to be the strongest possible. Edward liked to talk to the NPCs, to understand the story, and Leon, well Leon liked to punch things and not worry too much about the boring stuff. Still, with his 8.9 in intelligence, Leon couldn't help but notice some changes to his body composition. There was the inch in height his body had gained from those three levels and the twenty pounds of weight he had lost. Leon suspected the total loss was more like 30 or 40 pounds of fat but that the added muscle made up the difference. His stats were interesting too. Leon hadn’t much thought about it but based on the quests and perks he had received the Juggernaut class seemed to be one that focused on athleticism. Despite that, he still received a marginal boost to charisma and intelligence at each level which he supposed were meant to keep him well rounded. Leon did the math, the current numbers would mean that his intelligence before the game had been eight, which seemed right, and his strength a two, also unfortunately right. The four in charisma seemed rude, but Leon supposed he had never had much luck with women for a reason.

Doing math once again Leon loaded up the bench press, factoring in the weight of the bar to reach seventy pounds one-third of his weight. He assumed the position under it, with perfect form thanks to his perk; then with substantial effort, Leon lifted the bar over his chest and with as much control as he could manage lowered it. That was the easy part, the hard part was pushing it back up. Leon clenched his toes, bugged his eyes, and pushed with all his eleven strength upward. His mind suddenly flashed to the bar crushing him, rolling down onto his neck and ending this game. Panic more than determination got the bar up and back to its starting position. The quest was completed and the progress bar to level five was filled in another third. 

Only once the bar was fully returned to its resting position could Leon see the girl standing over him, upside down from his prone view. 

“I was ready to pull that thing off you.” The girl said in something between a mix of condescension and admiration. Leon sat up.

“Umm, thanks.” He said nervously. He recognized this girl from his advanced biology seminar, although she didn't seem to know him. She looked very pretty with her high ponytail and tight yoga pants, which only made his voice stutter more. “I’m Leon.”

“Cassy,” she said.

An idea came to his mind. “Got any tips for this one?” Leon asked, hoping to knock out his remaining quest. 

Before Cassy could answer though a tall man in a low-cut tank top that showed off his ripped torso and cannonball shoulders approached and wrapped his mammoth vascular arms around her. “Cassy, why the fuck are you talking to this fatty?” He asked as if Leon were some flaming garbage outside his window, offensive to his sight. Leon recognized him as a member of Alpha Sigma, one of the best and most dickish fraternities on campus.  

“Fuck off Hunter” Cassy said rolling her eyes.

“Yeah fuck off Hunter” Leon repeated. He instantly regretted it.

Hunter's eyes went wide, and a vein on his neck began to pulse. Leon stared back at him with a level of defiance he knew defied both the social order and logic. Leon had always been brash, a trait now manifested in full force by the extreme comfort he felt in the gym due to his Gym Rat perk.

Cassy shot him a look asking if he was trying to get himself killed then turned to Hunter to defuse the situation. “Come on babe let's go.” 

Hunter heard none of it. He got right up in Leon's face so close Leon could smell the sweat on his body and the ZYN in his breath. “Listen here tubby, this is a gym. The McDonalds is down the street. Now fuck off or I’ll turn your happy meal into chicken tenders. Ya hear?” He stood up and started to walk away Cassy unhappily following after him. “And don’t ever talk to my girl again homo.”

Leon knew he should be scared but instead, he found the whole interaction funny, his “Gym Rat” perk really might be working too well. “Got any gym tips for me” he called after Hunter, wanting to still get something out of the interaction. He couldn’t wait till he was bigger than that arrogant prick and no one could talk to him that way.

The frat bro turned around “Eat a fucking salad” he called. Leon’s last quest remained incomplete. He wondered why for a second then realized it said “exchange workout tips.” 

“You should really get off the roids, it's killing the last two of your brain cells,” Leon called after him. Hunter moved to turn around, probably to beat the shit out of Leon but Cassy grabbed his hand and dragged him away. The quest completed and Leon reached level five. Not too bad for seven charisma he thought proudly. The now familiar ding sounded along with a wall of notifications. Leon began to feel strange. A biting ache began to thrum in the pit of his stomach. Doubled over Leon rushed to the bathroom, careful to head in in the opposite direction of Hunter and Cassy. 

He burst into the empty men's room and then into the nearest stall he could find. As he sat on the toilet the pain intensified. Something was happening and it hurt like all hell.

-

Edward had no idea why Trent had even started talking to him. That wasn’t something people ever did to ugly Edward, maybe point and whisper, but never strike up a conversation and surly never ask him for help. It must be his stupid charisma and perks scrambling everyone's brain he concluded. Edward was about to turn back to Trent and tell him he had made a mistake and that he actually couldn’t help him when he heard “Edward” yell from behind the bar. He saw Tag the sexy fit barista holding a steaming to-go cup and looking around the coffee shop for Edward. Trent gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up.

Edward felt as if he was moving in slow motion like he was making his way to the gallows. Tag saw him coming and smiled, extending the drink towards him. Edward reached out to take the drink, his finger ever so slightly brushing up against Tag’s hand in the process. He wasn’t sure if it was the touch or just the proximity but he felt his new “Sage” perk activate in vivid detail.

A picture suddenly flashed in Edward’s mind. A subterranean location full of flashing lights and loud rhythmic music, a rave Edward realized. He saw Tag standing alone in an open button-down shirt showing off sexy tattooed muscles. Edward flashed back to reality. His sudden vision had caused him to linger a bit too long grabbing his drink and he jerked his hand away awkwardly. 

Edward retracted his hand and gave a smile hoping to save the moment. “Hey, are you going to the rave tonight?” Edward asked as casually as he could “I think I have seen you at a few before. I heard the one tonight is supposed to be especially hype.”

Tag seemed surprised for a moment then reassessed Edward his demeanor shifting from customer service friendly, to peer in-group easygoing. “You mean sewer fest? I want to man, but all my friends are busy tonight and I don’t want to go alone.”

“Oh damn that sucks,” Edward said. He was mindful of the stares he was getting from the other students around him but couldn’t bring himself to care, this was going too well. “I wish I could go but I have a paper I have to write tonight. My friend Trent was actually just saying he was thinking about going though.” Edward pointed back at Trent who gave a little wave. 

“Oh, I know him.” Tag said when he saw Trent. “That would be sick man. I really don’t want to miss Sewer Fest. How about this,” he took a cup sleeve and started to write on it, “Give your friend my number and tell him to text me” he handed it to Edward. 

“Will do. You two have fun” Edward said as he walked away. Trent looked at him wide-eyed and was about to say something but Edward made a signal that they shouldn’t talk about it inside.

“This is for you,” Edward said as he handed Trent Tag’s number once they were outside. 

“No way. You're actually a god. How did you do that?” Trent asked amazed.

“Don’t get too excited,” Edward said sheepishly. “You're going to a rave, and it’s in the sewer.” 

“A rave? You know what, I’ll take it. I really can’t thank you enough.” 

“Oh, it was nothing. Honestly, you helped me just as much as I helped you.”

Trent ignored the cryptic comment. “Well I should go, I guess I have to find an outfit to wear to a sewer. Would all white be a bad idea?” He handed Edward his phone. “Will you put your number in my phone? I’ll text you how tonight goes.” 

The two exchanged information then Trent left. Edward stood there sipping his latte, which really was too bitter. He saw Trent typing out a message on his phone as he walked away.

Moments later Edward heard a “ding” as the quest was completed and he reached level five. Notifications sprung up in his vision, more than usual. Edward couldn’t read them, he couldn’t focus on anything. His mostly full coffee slipped out of his hand and spilled onto the ground as a golden nebula sprung up around him and his face and body were wracked with pain. He started to scream.

[kybercrystals94]

Heya, I was sneaking in to see if I can make a 333 follower celebration fic request? I would love to read more of your Echo and Fives, they are my absolute favourites out of all the many fics you have written! You were my first friend on Tumblr and it's been so fun to follow you whilst we both write and you introduced me to the Bad Batch Fandom over here! I hope you continue to enjoy every single fic you write for our beloved boys (and girl!) from Clone Force 99 - I know I do!

:) <3

Thanks for the fun request! I always love writing these brothers 🥹

I decided to take a break from my usual Echo and Fives devastation stories and write something lighthearted and (hopefully) funny!

I hope you enjoy your special fic, friend!! ♥️

Tasteful

Read here on Ao3

Rated: G | Words: 333

“How about this one?” Fives turns the data pad to Echo.

“Ew. What is that?” 

“A rancor,” Fives says, pulling the data pad back. 

“It’s heinous,” Echo tells him. 

Fives grins. “Well, I like it.” 

Echo rolls his eyes. “If you get that tattooed on your face, I will never look at you again.” 

“Aw, c’mon, Echo. Don’t be like that.” 

“I like to be able to sleep at night, thanks.” 

Fives turns the data pad again. “What about this one?” 

“Somehow worse.”

Fives types something then gasps. “What about a skull over half of my face?”

“What about no?”

Fives groans loudly. “What about you being supportive of my impulsive decisions?” Checking his chrono, Fives leaps up. “Gotta go. My appointment is in a few minutes. Don’t wanna be late.” 

Echo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because not getting a face tattoo would be a travesty.” 

Fives snatches the pillow out from under Echo and pelts it at him. By the time Echo sits up to retaliate, his brother is gone. Sighing, Echo puts the pillow back under his head and returns to his manuals. 

**

“I’m back!”

Echo wakes with a start and nearly throws his data pad across the room. “Maker, Fives! Do you have to yell like that?” 

“Always,” Fives says, perching on the edge of Echo’s mattress. 

It takes Echo several seconds to process that Fives is back from getting his tattoo. Fives’ face is shockingly empty for a man who’d been hounding Echo for the past week with examples of obscene, and very permanent, facial markings. 

“I thought you were getting a tattoo on your face,” Echo says, pushing himself into a sitting position. 

Fives huffs. “Wow. You didn’t even notice. Right here, di’kut!” Turning his head, Fives points to the crisp lines of the number five on his temple. 

“That actually looks good,” Echo says incredulously. 

“Of course it looks good,” Fives preens. “It’s tasteful.” 

Echo grins, relieved Fives did not get the rancor…or the half skull.

END

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[deantfwinchester]

Love Me Right

Part 1: Henrietta’s

Pairing: ConstructionCEO!Joel x Waitress!Reader

She's eventually gonna be a teacher again bc let's be real, i'm a one-trick pony.

This is a Millionaire Joel AU x Most Eligible Bachelor Trope

Summary: Joel Miller, CEO and Co-Founder of Miller Construction, hasn't been dealing with an Empty Nest very well. His family and friends have tried their best to cheer him up since Sarah left for college in the fall, but the storm cloud above his head remains. On top of that (or perhaps because of it), he has just been named one of Austin's Most Eligible Bachelors.

What will that mean for the new-in-town waitress he meets in his favorite diner? As far as she knows, he's just an average contractor.

Warnings: age gap (reader late 20s, Joel late 40s); family-centered trauma and conflict; lethal levels of fluff otw

A/N: Bear with me for this one y'all. My imagination is ambitious and my brain is obstinate. Title inspired by Sabrina Carpenter’s Short ‘n Sweet - bc i can’t stop fckn listening to Juno 🫣

Word Count: 4.6k

_______________________________________________

“Tommy, there ain’t a chance in hell that’s gonna happen. Why on earth did you bring this to me?”

“Well they talked to Joanna at the front desk first. She said wasn’t going to bring it up to you, but I couldn’t just let it slide,” Tommy raises his eyebrows at Joel, shooting him a mischievous look. “Because one - I wasn’t gonna pass up the chance to see this look on your face, and two - would a little publicity be so bad?”

“Who in their right mind is gonna choose a fuckin contractor from the goddamn ‘society pages’?” Joel bristles at his brother’s amusement with an unwavering scowl.

Tommy stares right back, but the playful nature of his expression is unmarred. “Most men won’t Joel - but their wives will.” Tommy’s salacious grin is damn near wider than Joel’s ever seen. Christ, he’s loving this.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Joel says plainly, rolling his eyes.

“Come on brother, think about it - plenty of busy men in this city with bored housewives in need of a project. He tosses her a few thousand to redo the dining room - well who’s gonna do the job? She hasn’t got a clue where to begin and then BOOM! She sees the list of Austin’s Most Eligible Bachelors in the paper - where she finds a photo of the distinguished CEO and senior founder of Miller Construction—”

“Senior, seriously?,” Joel deadpans at him. Tommy ignores him, continuing to wax poetic.

“And can’t help but wonder if the rest of his staff is as dashing as he appears to be,”

“Flattery’s cheap Tommy.”

“Of course then she meets with me and the deal is sealed.” Tommy smiles smugly now that his story is complete.

“Boy can you paint a picture,” responds Joel, rolling his eyes at his brother’s antics. “So you wanna parade me around like a two-bit hooker, huh?

“Whaddya say — can I give ‘em a call?”

“If you’re so hell-bent on ‘marketing’ why don’t you do it?” Joel says flippantly.

“Well I’m not a bachelor anymore, am I?,” he grins brightly at him. This time, it’s sincere.

“Don’t break your arm pattin' yourself on the back, Tommy. Maria mighta said yes, but there ain’t a ring on your finger yet. She’s still got a few months to wise up,” Joel challenges, his tone playful.

Tommy glares at him, but then gives a sobered nod. “You’re right about that. I know I’m a lucky fucker, and I’m not interested in testing that luck - even for a charity auction. Sorry to the dogs, or the food bank or — is it old people?”

“Hell bent on it, and don’t even know what it’s for? Christ - it’s a Make-A-Wish thing Tommy, damn,” Joel replies, looking bewildered at his brother’s callous and cavalier response.

“And isn’t your attention and concern for the bigger picture just what they need in volunteers?” Tommy retorts, expression still smug but eyes hopeful. “What, ‘s it gonna kill you to go out for once? It’ll be a formality at worst and maybe even a good time if you loosen up a bit.”

“I can think of a number of other ‘worsts’ than a formality,” Joel muses

“You’re gentleman enough to handle it just fine,” Tommy continues.

It has been quite a while since Joel’s been out of his house for much other than work or routine, and even longer since he’s been out with anyone other than Tommy, Maria, and the guys from work here and there. He’ll admit, he hasn’t been dealing with an empty nest very well. He’s done a pretty terrible job of keeping busy since he dropped Sarah off at school back in the fall. She’d gotten in exactly where she’d hoped, and made friends fast - for this he was over the moon - but he misses her like crazy. He’s been swimming back and forth in swelling pride and stabbing grief since September, ecstatic and aching all at once. He knew Tommy’s intentions were relatively pure, business interest aside. He knows they’ve been worried about him for a couple of months now - they haven’t exactly been subtle — they’d started having him over for dinner damn near once a week.

This newfound hobby of Tommy’s, cooking like a grown-up, had become the ruse en vogue for getting Joel out of his house. As Maria’s caseload grew at the law firm, Tommy wanted to make sure she had a real meal to eat when she finally got home — so he started cooking. Joel had to admit it was real sweet, watching his brother dive headfirst into learning a new skill just to take care of his bride-to-be. He claimed it only made sense with his far more flexible schedule, but Joel knew it made Tommy proud to be able to do this for her, and the very fact he wanted to made Joel proud as well.

Once Sarah left for school, however, Tommy quickly discovered his brother’s less-than-satisfactory habits of microwave dinners or forgetting to eat in general. He was a fair chef in his own right once upon a time, but without his little girl there to feed, bothering to make a balanced meal fell by the wayside. Joanna, a kindly woman in her seventies, had been one of the first to notice the change in Joel’s demeanor and the drawn nature of his features. Not much younger than the boys’ mother would be today, Joanna worked at the front desk of Miller Construction, greeting clients with a maternal warmth that, Tommy had to admit, was in part strategic. Disarm a client while they wait with a smile and you’d be able to pry open their hearts and their pockets.

Joanna was not unaware of the role she played in this game, though she did not approve. She’d informed Tommy of her concern for Joel, and the regular dinner invitations followed suit. This, accompanied with Joanna’s tugging Joel along to a nearby diner for lunch a couple of times a week in November had practically pulled Joel through the fall slump and into the new year. The holiday visits home from Sarah had helped a great deal, as well.

Joel wasn’t blind to his friends and family’s kahoots to help him through this patch. Though he sometimes grudgingly obliged to Joanna’s pestering him out the door because she hadn’t “seen you eat a bite all day. Four cups of black coffee don’t count, and you know it. Up!,” or Tommy’s employing Maria to send a text herself inviting him to dinner after he’d tried and simply received the finger, he was grateful for their efforts and care. Sarah was too, but he didn’t need to know that. Those lunchtime diner visits soon turned into breakfasts — a preemptive measure on Joanna’s part to add some time out in public to Joel’s routine of home — office — work site — home. Eventually she’d pavolv-ed him into it, and Joel was at the diner for coffee, breakfast, and one of the only physical newspapers left in existence every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at first following behind Joanna and eventually on his own.

Joanna had been with the Miller brothers since the business was far smaller, just a few years after its inception, when they started needing a receptionist/secretary/assistant, just someone who knew how to manage their slowly growing demand. She’d been a friend of their mother’s and had taken up some of the slack when she’d passed, grieving alongside her friend’s sons and looking after them in her wake. She’d been one of the only reasons Joel and Tommy had been able to build the tiny Miller Bros. into its current position as Miller Construction, multi-million-dollar contracting firm, and the largest in the Austin Metro area. Joel’s practical thinking and creativity combined with Tommy’s ambition and idealistic hopes of grandeur got them into successful meetings with investors that Joanna quietly set up via her husband’s business contacts. Their vision reminded her so much of their mother’s optimism she couldn’t help herself. She’d keep an eye on Sarah when Joel needed and ensured they were taken care of in the moments they would have needed their mother around.

As the boys’ surrogate mother figure and Sarah’s Aunt Jo, it came as no surprise that amid Joel’s season of empty-nested loneliness Joanna had begun encouraging him to “get back out there” and claimed that she “won’t be around forever” and “would like to see him settled before I go.” Classic maternal guilt-tripping, and Joel told her each time that he hears 70 is the new 50. She told him to try that again in a few years when he hits the real 50.

Truth of the matter was, Joel had been alone for a long time. He’d seen people on and off while Sarah was growing up, but it was a rare occasion, and no fling had ever lasted more than a couple of months. With Sarah at home, it never mattered much to Joel — he had someone to care for who was the best company he’d ever had right in front of him. She’d needed him a little less as she’d grown up, but he always had a purpose.

Joel was a natural-born caretaker — between brotherhood and fatherhood, he took to it like a tadpole to water. With Sarah away at school and his little brother engaged, however, he couldn’t figure out where to put all that love, and so it crackled into grief like a blackening candle wick, blooming into a flower of ash that nestled in his chest. The cloud of soot hovered around him for a while as he went through the motions of his everyday. Tommy, Maria, and Joanna all wanted to see him find his way again, as did Sarah when she received honest reports from her family members after some prodding. He always put on his biggest smile for her, never wanting her to worry, but she could see something hurting in his eyes, just below the surface.

While it may have been blatantly out of his comfort zone, Tommy and Joanna jumped at the opportunity to convince Joel when the Most Eligible Bachelors’ Auction came knocking. He needed something to disrupt his routine, with the added bonus of his coming out into the social scene like a plaid-clad debutante with a few extra crow’s feet.

After rolling the last few months’ events around in his mind for a couple of minutes while Tommy answers a phone call, Joel is broken from his reverie. Tommy’s standing in front of him again, waving a hand back and forth.

“Hey ground control - you with me?,” he asks before Joel’s eyes focus on him once again. “Can I give em a call?,” and this time Joel notices the concern in Tommy’s eyes as his joking facade flickers with hope. It’s more than just publicity, and he owes it to them to give it a shot.

Joel releases a measured sigh, relenting. “Can’t believe I’m saying this but sure, fuck it. Call ‘em back,” he says rolling his eyes, resigning himself to whatever nonsense his participation will entail. He reminds himself it’s for charity, and returns to his computer, refocusing on his work as Tommy darts out of his office to return to his own, reporting his success to Joanna along the way.

_______________________________________________

You got lucky with this job at Henrietta’s, with its flexible hours and fairly livable wage, you had time to settle into your new place and get to know the city. You spend your off days wandering around, doing research on local schools and prepping your applications for summer school and the new year.

Never had you pictured yourself leaving students mid-year, and having to do it hurt like hell. You missed the kids you left behind every day, but when a friend caught wind of an acquaintance needing a subletter for a little studio within your price range, you didn’t have much of a choice. You needed to take up the lease starting in January, or you’d be starting over at square one. It had been a long time coming, this encroaching need to run and start over somewhere new. Staying in your hometown was no longer an option — work may have been a saving grace, but the other areas of your life were suffering. You knew healing couldn’t begin without separation. You needed to be far away from everything — it was the only way you could picture trying to feel whole again. Grad school had ended the previous year, so you fled.

With each mile you put between you and your family, you started to feel like your lungs could fully inflate once again. The oppressive air of scrutiny and memory that swam around you at home dropped off piece by piece with each passing mile marker. You’d put a few states between yourself and your parents once it was all said and done, and while it was scary, starting from scratch all over again, it was invigorating. You’d done it at eighteen when you left for college, you could damn well do it again with eight years’ more life experience under your belt.

You’d walked into the diner on your second day in the city. You had some money saved up from time living at home, but knew it would dwindle quickly with rent to pay and no salary coming in on the regular. You would need something to keep busy and pay for necessities until the end of the spring semester. When Diane, the manager caught sight of you, bright-eyed and looking like a deer in headlights, she welcomed you with a warmth you’d only read about in books. She interviewed you then and there and offered you a job on the spot, waiting tables on the breakfast and lunch shifts at least four days a week. She told you your “sweet smile and wide-eyed look will do wonders for you in tips, precious!” You think it’s probably just teacher face you can’t shake, and hope she’s right — maybe it could do you some favors until you get back in the classroom where you belong.

Diane’s rounded face was accentuated with wonderfully deep crow’s feet and smile lines that suggested a lifetime of sharing this warmth, and her dark hair streaked with gray around her hairline and temples rested atop her head in a frazzled bun. She made you comfortable out the gate, and had set you up with a uniform immediately. More aptly, she handed you a t-shirt and an apron to go over your leggings. You were thankful for the relaxed dress code, knowing plenty of other establishments required a much more specific ensemble. Once you’d changed she introduced you to your shift lead, Reggie, and the line-cook-on-duty, Tony, patting you comfortingly on the shoulder and insisting they welcome you, hoping to keep you around to solve their persistent staffing issue.

While Diane was quite a bit older than you, somewhere in her mid-fifties, Reggie and Tony were younger, floating between mid-thirties and early forties, if you had to guess. Reggie was a slim black man you’d put in his thirties, and he greeted you with a smile and an exclamation that he was more than ready to gossip ad nauseum with someone so much closer to his age. He’d been the one to fill you in on Diane’s immediate taking to you, letting you know with little ambiguity that you were just a few years younger than Diane’s daughter, who had moved out of the city about a year ago, and that you favored her to boot. Reggie had called this particular gossip session your orientation.

“Don’t get me wrong honey, Diane’s a sweetheart. But never have I seen her offer a position on the spot. I think having you here may do her some good,” he’d said, before turning to fill you in on Tony the line cook. “Yeah Tony’s hot, but he chain smokes like a chimney and doesn’t care at all when I ask him to keep his second hand smoke to himself on the days I have a performance!,” he shouted pointedly at Tony, who only looked up long enough to give Reggie the finger and wink at you. Tony was a muscular Italian guy in his forties with tattoos of a sort that didn’t quite match up with the gold chain and cross pendant hanging around his neck. When your eyes went wide at the wink, Reggie giggled a bit and leaned toward you. “Don’t worry, Tony’s a little sleazy but harmless. He’ll hit on anything in a skirt, but as soon as you tell him you aren’t interested he’ll back off and won’t bring it up again. He’s a good guy, but don’t tell him I said that.”

Over the course of your shift you discovered that Diane’s been at Henrietta’s for fifteen years, Reggie is a drag queen and lounge singer by the name of Wizz Tiria at a few different clubs around town, and Tony has a few other business ventures he mentions on and off (the details of which he keeps to himself), but never misses taking his Mom to church on Sundays. You share a good bit about yourself as well in exchange — what brought you to Austin, why now, and where you may go from here. It doesn’t take long for you to make yourself at home among this eclectic little bunch, and for the first time in a really, really long time, you’re content with the peaceful monotony of these early winter days.

_______________________________________________

It’s a brisk February morning when you walk into the diner for your shift. You’ve spent the last month working in the cozy little greasy spoon, so you’re still getting to know the regulars, but you’ve caught on pretty quick. You’ve been working the Tuesday, Thursday, and weekend shifts, but when Diane loses another server, you’re eager to pick up the slack — extra pocket change and keep your mind busy. The company’s pretty good too. Thus, you find yourself walking into the diner at 7 AM on a Wednesday morning with a hoodie over your t-shirt and a scarf to ward off more of the wind cutting into your cheeks. You head to the staff room to remove your hoodie and don your apron and emerge, finding the diner a bit colder than it had been up to this point. You’d kept a light jacket or a cardigan on you previously, but today’s need for something heavier led you to selecting a favorite hoodie to throw over your work t-shirt — which you didn’t quite think through until you came into the dining room and felt a chil run up your spine. Diane catches sight of you before you can still yourself.

“Sweetie, what on earth fo you think you’re doing?,” she asks like you’ve done something obviously egregious.

“Huh? What is it?,” you ask innocently, but you know the answer. She can probably see the goosebumps you feel rising on your arms.

“You need somethin’ on under that, you’re gonna freeze in here today!,” she chastises.

“Yeah, I brought my hoodie, but forgot I’d be taking it off. It’s not so bad in here, I’ll be alright,’ you tell her reassuringly.

“Absolutely not. Wait, hold on a second - REGGIE! We got any more o’ those long sleeve souvenir shirts in the case?!” she hollers after him.

“Hold awn!,” he hollers back, Southern twang taking center stage when he yells, just like the rest of them. After a few seconds he emerges with a few in hand. “Got a few left. Ugly as hell, probably why they’re still here. Watcha need ‘em for?”

“Sweetie, go on and change into that before the rush starts. Not the staff shirt, but the branding’ll be fine in case Jason drops by,” she says, rolling her eyes. She pats you on the shoulder, nudging you toward Reggie to take one of the shirts. They’re bright green with a gaudy design on them that makes you laugh when he hands it to you. Jason’s the owner of Henrietta’s, and so you’ve heard, the bane of Diane’s existence. You’ve only heard tale of this rotten Jason thus far, never quite laying eyes on the mythical beast. You really hope today in this goofy shirt isn’t the day you do.

You return to the dining room a few minutes later clad in the neon green monstrosity, tugging at it in a futile effort to make it look better. “Happy now, Diane?!,” you holler as you enter, only to find her standing directly in front of you at the hostess stand, face to face with a man you’d never seen in here before — who you almost run right into, not looking where you’re going. He’s tall and broad with dark brown curls laced with grey streaks, and gray patches in the short beard that frames his jaw. He catches you when you nearly bump right into him, and you look up to meet the deepest brown eyes you’ve ever encountered. Your cheeks go red when you realize what you’ve done.

“Whoa there,” he says, smiling down at you as you stutter out an apology. “It’s alright, no harm done,” he responds, voice gentle but deep. It’s true, he didn’t even budge when he caught you, and you’re fairly certain if you’d fallen, the outcome would’ve been the same.

“Sorry about that Joel. C’mon, your table’s ready,” she says, patting Joel’s arm and leading him forward, not before turning back to you and saying, “Certainly am. Now go grab some coffee for Table 7 for me, will ya sweetie?” with a smile. You’d just run almost smack into a customer, and she wasn’t upset with you or anything. You shouldn’t be surprised, that’s just Diane, but you’re used to much larger reactions to small mistakes. You just nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, but your eyes are drawn once again to the man she’s leading away. He’s looking back at you with a smile that sends a shiver down your spine, one you’re certain has nothing to do with the chill in the air this time. He’s wearing a plaid button-down and a utility jacket, with cheeks and a nose tinged pink from the cold. You tear your eyes away anxiously and head for the coffee pot.

You’ve got your hand around the decaf pot, pouring another cup for the regular at the bar counter, when your eyes find Table 7, your next destination. You see the man, Joel, Diane had called him, with his back to you, facing out the window, newspaper in hand. You steel yourself once again, switch coffee pots, and head for his table.

You approach from the side, hoping not to spook him as he’s engrossed in the paper he has in hand. Christ, when was the last time you saw a physical newspaper? It’s kinda cute, you think, seeing someone reading one on a cold morning with a cup of coffee. So picturesque. Especially someone as handsome as he is, and you find yourself staring at his broad shoulders and dark curls again before he looks up from his reading.

“Hey,” you start, a little shaky, “sorry again, about before. Don’t know what I was doing, not looking where I was going,” you smile a little, shaking your head at your mishap.

“Really, it’s fine. You seemed, uh, preoccupied,” he says, looking down at the offending design on the tshirt you’re wearing, before looking back up at you. “It’s certainly a change from the regular uniform, huh?” he says, smiling at you. The way his eyes crinkle as he does plants a warmth in your chest you aren’t expecting. It’s been so long since you felt it, it’s almost unfamiliar. Your cheeks warm as you smile back at him, hoping it comes off as embarrassment from your wardrobe rather than bashful attraction. You’re about to tell him it’s certainly not a permanent solution, when he speaks again. “So, Sweetie, huh? Haven’t seen you around before — that what they call you in here?” he questions, smirk playing at his lips.

You laugh in response and introduce yourself, and tell him this isn’t your normal shift, but you’ll probably be around for it moving forward. You take his breakfast order, and tell him you’ll let him get back to his paper.

You don’t converse much more when you bring Joel his breakfast, just quiet thanks when you refill his coffee cup. He looks so peaceful, you almost hate to interrupt each time. You ask Reggie about him when you both have a minute behind the counter.

“Yep, that’s Joel. Gorgeous, isn’t he? Started coming in a few months back with an older lady, then more regularly by himself. She’s with him once in a while, kinda seems like a mom vibe, but she doesn’t look like him. Anyway, I think he works construction or something, always coming in with those boots on looking like a lumberjack,” Reggie says flippantly. “Heard from the older lady one day when he was in the bathroom — his daughter went to college back in the fall, they’ve been trying to get him out ever since,” he said, looking sympathetic at the thought.

You feel your heart do a little squeeze at this newfound tidbit. A fresh empty nester. You know how hard it’s been for Diane, so much she’s taken to parenting the staff in her daughter’s stead. Staring at Joel’s back as his head is bowed reading the paper, you begin wondering more and more about him. His daughter’s probably around eighteen, so how old is he? You’d guess he isn’t married, and you didn’t see a ring. Who is he? Why does he come here to read his paper each day? And most importantly — how soon can you find out the answers to these questions? You don’t want to ambush him at all and scare him off, but you’re drawn to him, and so very curious.

Meanwhile, Joel is stealing glances at your reflection in the diner window in front of him, watching you laugh with Reggie and the customers at the bar, smiling sweetly when someone makes a request of you. He needs to get out of there before he starts feeling creepy, he thinks. He rises and walks to the counter to settle his bill with Reggie at the cash register, glancing at you when he does so, futilely trying to balance showing interest and being weird. He leaves a nice tip in the jar for all of you to share, but just before he turns to go, he looks back at you, locking eyes.

“Oh uh, Sweetie?,” he says, smirk on his face. He looks almost bashful when he speaks next, like he’s working up the courage. “Glad you’re picking up. Look forward to seein’ you again,” he smiles. The look on his face when he says it is so sincere, you could melt on the spot. He was nervous about his joke, you could tell, but recovered when you laughed in reply.

“Looking forward to it too, Joel. Enjoy your day,” you say, smiling wide in return. He gives a little wave to everyone before grinnig down at his shoes and walking out of the diner into the crisp February air. Your eyes follow him out to the pick-up he hops into, before looking back over to Reggie and Tony, staring at you devilishly.

“And I’m looking forward to seeing this story unravel,” says Reggie, looking over at Tony and grinning, like something juicy has just unfolded before their eyes. The two are laughing while you smile and wave them off, wiping down the counter. Diane emerges from the office at the sound of their hearty laughter, reading glasses slipping down her nose, notepad in hand, and stares back at the three of you.

“What’d I miss?!,” she asks. You’re smiling too much to respond with anything genuine, so you return to your wiping, and let Reggie take the lead.

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 17

Masterlist

Incoming video call from The-Next-Bruce-Wayne…

Incoming video call from The-Next-Bruce-Wayne…

“Hello?”

“Tucker! Just the man I needed to talk to!”

Tucker sighed. He could tell just by the way Danny said his name- they way he said ‘just the man I needed to talk to’ that he was up to something. “What’s up man?”

Danny smiled sheepishly. “Well, uh, first of all did you get the job?” He squinted and looked behind Tucker, probably noting the stacks of moving boxes lined up against the wall. 

Scoffing, Tucker gave him a Look. “Dude, it’s me- of course I got the job. Sam and I have been packing as fast as possible so we can get out there within the month, sooner if she has her way.” He loved his girlfriend but when she wanted something done she was on a warpath until it got done and Tucker… he just wasn’t built like that.

Smiling, Danny glanced off screen for a moment before returning his attention to the screen.

“How are the boys?” Tucker asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly. Danny could argue that he wasn’t their dad all he wanted, and he’d respect that and not call them his kids, but it didn’t make it true.

The sheepish smile returned. “Uh well, that’s one part of what I was calling to talk to you about. I don’t want to overload you while you’re moving, but uh- well… how long would it take for you to make them like, legally mine?”

Tucker’s eyes blew wide. Holy shit- “For real?”

“Miguel and Santi said I was dad-shaped.” He confirmed like it explained anything. 

“You cried didn’t you?”

His best friend crossed his arms. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. We talked about it last night and they’d like to-” Danny choked, looking away from the camera but he couldn’t fool Tucker. He was clearly getting emotional. “They’d like to get their name changed to Nightingale as soon as possible.”

“Holy shit man- that’s amazing!” He hadn’t believed Dani when she’d called the group to inform them that Danny’s recent deistractions had been because he’d taken two boys in and was acting as their guardian. They were twenty-two! No way Danny had decided to just take in a couple of teens and be their dad. But then he’d met them at the birthday party and he could tell they were everything to Danny.

From the way he talked about them to the way he looked at them when he thought they wouldn’t notice, Danny loved those kids with his whole heart. It had been interesting to witness in person and despite Danny’s argument that he wasn’t their dad, Tucker knew he’d be getting this call in the near future. Which is why he already had the paperwork drawn up and faked with everything in place, he essentially just had to click a button to make it happen.

Danny was grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah it’s… I’m… happy they trust me.”

“All right, two more Nightingales coming right up. Now, you wanna tell me why you said we were taking down the GIW then turned off your phone?” 

Yesterday had been a normal day for Tucker and Sam, each working on packing one room while blaring music through the partially empty apartment. The night before they’d all been panicking about Danny’s daycare getting attacked and all the news that came with it, but knowing Danny, he’d gotten into more trouble after the fact and forgot to check his phone before passing out for the night. So they didn’t worry too much.

Just when Sam was saying them should try calling him again they’d gotten the text.

Crime-Fighting, Night-Stalking Vigilantes

The-Next-Bruce-Wayne: Get in losers we’re going to take down the GIW

The-Next-Bruce-Wayne changed the group chat name from ‘Crime-Fighting, Night-stalking Vigilantes’ to ‘Operation Take Down the Plastics’

“What the fuck.” Sam breathed.

Tucker started typing immediately. “You’re seeing this, right?”

Cassandra is typing…

The-Next-Gotham-Rogue is typing…

The Midwest Princess is typing…

Chaos: Fucking finally

TooFine: What brought this on?

Cassandra: Hell yeah, I’ve been waiting to be a part of a GIW mess around for years!

The-Next-Gotham-Rogue: Danny answer your phone

The-Next-Gotham-Rogue: Daniel J Nightingale answer. Your. phone.

The Midwest Princess: Oooh someone’s in trouble~

After two more calls went to voicemail, Sam and Tucker had given up on both reaching Danny and packing and had opted for cuddling on the couch with wine and theorizing about what could have caused Danny’s 180.

“After the scarecrow attack… everyone reached out.” Danny twisted his fingers. “I mean- everyone. People from Amity, numbers I didn’t recognize… one from Wisconsin…” Danny didn’t elaborate on that, Tucker knew that was Vlad and that Danny hadn’t read the messages. “Everyone knows where I am. That puts the boys in danger. So. We’re taking down the GIW. I’ve already asked Red Hood to get Batman and the Justice League to look into them and the Anti-Ecto-Acts and he seemed pretty sure that they had no idea any of this was going on.”

“Wait wait wait- go back- the Red Hood? Danny? How did you manage to get into contact with a crime lord and why haven’t I been informed?” Tucker couldn’t believe this- Danny had been so insistent that he wanted nothing to do with the Gotham vigilantes and here he was name dropping one of them like they were casual besties.

Shrugging, Danny glanced off camera again and frowned. “Uh- I met him a while back and now he drops by once in a while to check in.”

“Danny.”

“I accidentally killed the Joker and Red Hood caught me but he wanted the fucker dead too so he’s been dropping off food and shit at my place as a thank you and he also knows I’ve died and he’s met Phantom.”

“Danny- wha- what the fuck man! Holy fucking Christ!” Tucker keeled over, laughing. “You- you’re telling me that you… KILLED someone, and Red Hood is now feeding you as compensation? And you told him you’re dead?” 

The man on the other end of the line sighed heavily, his eye bags speaking volumes through his silence. “I was trying to help- sometimes I just say things and then I can’t take them back, I don’t know.”

“How- HOW does telling the Red Fucking Hood that you’re dead, help?”

Danny looked off camera again, clearly distracted. “I accidentally mentioned being a teenage vigilante and he had questions. I was all ‘if you take off your helmet’ AKA ‘reveal your identity’ I’ll tell you what happened. But the fucker wheres a domino mask UNDER the helmet! So he took it off and I’m not a liar so I had to tell him. I didn’t tell him everything though. He doesn’t know I’m Phantom. Or that I’m the ghost king. Or anything about the Fentons.”

Tucker could feel his usual laid back demeanor cracking under the weight of Danny’s big mouth. “Oh my fucking god. Okay, putting that aside. You need me to make the boys legally yours and what else?”

“If it’s cool, I’ll portal over later today to get a copy of your files on the GIW. Whenever Hood gets the chance to speak with Batman and hopefully the JL, he’s gonna summon Phantom again and I’d like to have all the information ready for them. Now I’ve actually gotta get going- I think the boys friend wants to hang out? I’m not sure. I’ll talk to you soon, Tuck. Love ya.”

Right, of course, why not. Tucker collapsed back onto the couch and groaned loudly. 

“What’re you grumbling about?” Sam asked, walking through the front door with groceries on either arm.

“Danny.”

She gave him a knowing look. “Help me put this stuff away and you can tell me all about what the fuck Danny did this time.”

~~~~~

“Wait wait wait hold on! I can’t understand you when you’re both talking at the same time.” Danny waved his hands around to silence the boys. “Miguel,” He turned to the older boy. “What’s going on?” 

Miguel shrugged. “Damian asked us over for dinner but he said you should come to ‘cause ‘is dad wanted ta meet you or somethin’.”

“And he said he has a dog and a cat and a cow! I want to see their cow, Danny can we go! Please?” Santi begged, reminding Danny that he was just a thirteen year old kid. “An’ he said he had a buncha brothers and sisters and we could all hang out- can we go?”

Danny thought about the paperwork Tucker would be emailing soon confirming the boys adoption, the drive he needed to pick up to give to the bats, the council meeting he needed to schedule to discuss the GIW, the work he needed to make sure was getting done on the daycare, and he sighed.

“What time?”

“YES!” Santi shot up and started running around in victory.

Miguel checked his phone. “Damian said dinner’s ‘round six-thirty but we could come over at six to meet everyone.”

That was only two hours to prepare. Danny rubbed his eyes. “Okay. I have some work to do before we leave, send me their address so I can figure out when we should leave.” He stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “Make sure Curiosity’s fed and let me know if you need anything, I’ll be in my study at my place.”

It was a few moments later when Miguel sent him the address and, after looking it up, Danny dropped his head to his desk. 

“Only you, Danny.” He groaned into the desk and processed the information that seemed obvious but hadn’t been for him apparently. Damian fucking Wayne. He’d been casually conversing with Damian Wayne, asking favors of him, not knowing who he was, and now he’d agreed to go to dinner at his house. House. Danny scoffed. His fucking manor. 

On the bright side, Duke would probably be there. It wasn’t like Danny was worried about them all being rich assholes or something, nice people like Duke and Damian didn’t come from rich assholes, but he wasn’t mentally prepared to have dinner at Wayne Manor with Bruce fucking Wayne.

Putting aside the work he’d planned on doing, Danny decided to take the rest of the time given to him, to prepare. Starting with a nap. 

Thank Ancients his sleep had been coming easier recently.

~~~~~~~

“Who did you say was coming to dinner again, Dami?” Dick asked, lounging on a couch in the main sitting room. 

Damian looked up from his sketchbook. “You remember the people we ran into at the store a few weeks ago?” Dick nodded. “Them. Nightingale is an acquaintance of mine and he is now a person of interest as well.”

“What do you mean?” Dick sat up.

“I forgot you were not here last night.” Damian tsked, setting down his charcoal and cleaning his hands off with a dirty rag. “Todd brought father a case. A very serious case that father isn’t too pleased about. He’s meeting with the Justice League tomorrow to discuss it, but seeing as Nightingale was specifically mentioned by Phantom, he is now a person of interest.”

Dick blinked. “Phantom?”

Sighing loudly, Damian picked up his sketchbooks and charcoal and stood up. “Read the report, Grayson.”

“Wait! We’re back to Grayson?” His older brother groaned as Damian exited the room with a hidden smirk on his face.

~~~~~~

Distantly, you could hear a young man screaming. “Who the FUCK ARE MIGUEL AND SANTIAGO NIGHTINGALE!?”

~~~~~~

Driving to Wayne manor was wild. And Danny said that as a half dead half alive ghost king who’d been cut open by his own parents and ended up opening a daycare without any plans. So you know he meant it. 

The driveway was long and winding, they had to introduce themselves at the gate so the butler could let them in, and when the pulled up the building towered over them. Now, technically, Danny did own a keep. It was certainly bigger than the manor, but that was a ghost thing. He’d never seen a place so big in the living world.

(And despite his abundant wealth, Danny didn’t care much for his large keep or deep pockets except for what they could do for others.)

Parking in front of the stairs- yes there were actual stairs leading up to this double door front entrance- Danny turned off the car and turned to the boys. “Okay, be on your best behavior- I don’t know this fruitloop so if you want to leave at any time, let me know. But also, have fun.”

Miguel rolled his eyes but Santi was the one who spoke up. “Fruitloop?”

“Crazy rich person.” Danny interpreted

Miguel frowned. “Aren’t you technically-”

“OH KAY!” Danny shouted, not wanting to be reminded that he technically fell under the same category as Vlad Masters and Bruce Wayne. “Let’s go!”

He hadn’t told the boys to dress up, he certainly hadn’t dressed up himself, and they’d all ended up wearing what was most comfortable. Danny at least put on jeans instead of sweatpants and threw on a cardigan instead of his usual ratty sweatshirt. He’d panicked after his nap took longer than it was meant to and barely had the time to shower and throw on some clothes before they needed to leave so he hadn’t had the chance to really think about his clothes.

Miguel fiddled with his bracelets as they approached the door and Danny noted that the boy was already anxious about the evening. “Hey, just try to have a good time. Seriously, we can leave whenever one of us gets tired, yeah?” The boy nodded silently, shifting a tiny bit closer as Danny rang the doorbell.

Opening the front door was exactly the kind of guy he expected. Dressed up, bald, with perfect posture, definitely a rich butler. He heard the footsteps of a couple more people approaching but- wait, wasn’t that the guy from-

“Alfred?” Danny said before he could stop himself. 

The butler offered a small smile. “Mister Danny, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I was unaware that you were the Mister Nightingale that Master Damian informed us would be visiting tonight. Please, do come in.” He opened the door wider, gesturing for them all to step into the foyer.

“Nightingale.” Damian greeted as he stepped into the foyer. “I was unaware you were acquainted with Pennyworth.” It was a statement, but the way he said it made Danny feel like he was being interrogated. 

Before he could respond, Dick stepped in right behind Damian. “Danny! A pleasure to see you again! I didn’t know Damian had befriended your kids.”

“They’re-” Danny started to refute Dick’s claim, out of habit, before stopping himself suddenly. All eyes were on him as he paused and glanced at Miguel who nodded subtly not quite meeting Danny’s eyes. “Yes, Damian’s been helping the boys learn how to take care of their cat. I will say I didn’t realize who either of you were.” He chuckled awkwardly.

Damian tipped his head to one side. “You… did not know?”

Shrugging, Danny took note of the shoe rack behind him and the boys and the lack of shoes on Dick and Damian, and gestured for the boys to take them off. “I’m not from Gotham, I mean, sure I’ve heard of you guys, but I didn’t really make the connection that you were Waynes.” He did his best to keep it casual, knowing well how annoying it could become when people talked to you like you were famous. He was a king after all, some people respected his status.

“Perhaps you should show our guests a more suitable spot to have this conversation?” Alfred offered with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Dick smiled sheepishly. “Sorry Alf, come on, most of the others are chilling in the living room.” 

Following Dick and Damian, Danny wondered how many others there would be. Growing up he thought he was really good with names and faces but after moving away from the small town he’d lived in his entire life and eventually taking up residence in Gotham, he realized he wasn’t any good at them at all. It had taken a long time to memorize his regular kids and parents’ names and who went with who-

“Well how was I supposed to know that? No one ever tells me anything!” A distinctly female voice shouted from the room they were entering. “Besides, who woulda thought Dami would have friends-” She cut off the moment Dick walked into the room and cleared his throat. “Oh come on- you know it’s true!”

Danny frowned to himself. Damian seemed like a pretty nice kid to him. 

“Tt. Brown. I’ll have you know I have plenty of friends. Nightingale, Miguel, Santiago, this is-”

“Wait a minute! They get first names but I’m still brown!” The girl shouted. Her hand movements and tone of voice felt familiar and Danny couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen her somewhere before.

“Everybody calm down!” Dick sighed loudly. “Danny, Miguel, Santiago, this is Steph, next to her is Cass,” the girl waved with a small smile. “And- where’s Tim? I thought he’d be here.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m here, Dick.” A young man grumbled, face buried in his phone. “Was working on something, are our guests- Danny?” 

Okay, once was a coincidence, twice? “Tim?” What were the chances that he already knew half of this family from previous chance encounters around the city? Because he knew Duke, Tim, Dick, Damian, and Alfred, and there couldn’t be that many more after Steph and Cass. 

“Oh my god why does no one tell me anything.” Tim breathed.

Steph shouted and pointed. “HA! Tim agrees with me! Maybe if the demon brat had told us who he was having over this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Uh… I’m not  sure how that would have helped but it’s good to see you again Tim. And nice to meet you, Stepp, Cass. I’m Danny, these are-” He hesitated, still getting used to things. “Miguel and Santiago, my boys. Thanks for having us over.”

The room grew silent and all of the Waynes seemed to be exchanging looks until finally Tim let out a sentence that was genuinely worrying. “Oh my god you’re as bad as Bruce.”

Oh goddamnit. He was a fruitloop.

The room burst into laughter, even Santi and Miguel seemed to understand the joke, Danny just rubbed a hand across his brow and shook his head. Hoping to change the subject, he brought up the only topic he could think of. “Where’s Duke? He’s the only one I knew would actually be here.”

“He was working on some stuff last I checked, he’ll be here soon for dinner though- huh.” Dick paused. “Dami, did you happen to mention to Duke who our company was for dinner?”

Damian tsked. “I did not think it imperative to alert every member of this household who would be coming over for dinner. They are my guests.”

“Yes well, have yourself and your guests wash up, dinner is almost ready.” Alfred said, making Danny and the boys jump. How the hell was he so quiet? The man moved more like a ninja than a butler.

Once Damian had showed them to the nearest bathroom and they’d all washed their hands, they were shown to the dining room. It was… crazy. A crystal chandelier hung above the center of the room, the table was long enough to hold ten people on each side, the chairs were ornate, the floor was immaculate, and Danny was reminded once again that he was inside a multi-billionaire’s manor.

Damian, possibly sensing the boys’ anxiety, offered them seats beside himself and Danny found himself somehow sitting to the left and one down from the head of the table. Tim sat beside him (thank Ancients there would be a buffer between him and Bruce Wayne), Dick sat across from Tim, and Steph and Cass sat across from the boys (leaving one chair between them and Dick for some reason).

“Sorry I’m late!” A familiar voice called, footsteps rushing into the room. “Still not as late as Ja- oh! Uh, hi, Danny!” Duke smiled, confused, and looked around at his family.

Danny offered a smile in return. “Ah, and Damian’s lack of communication strikes again.” He jokes.

“It was not a lack of communication, Nightingale.” Damian corrects. “I simply didn’t see a point in alerting Thomas to your dinner invitation.”

“Riiiight… not like ‘Thomas’ and I are acquainted or anything.” Danny jokes as Duke takes the spot directly across from Damian beside Cass. “Sorry to surprise you at home, I didn’t realize I’d be dropping in on my employee until after I’d already agreed to come over.”

Duke shook his head. “No, don't worry about it! I just didn’t expect it!”

“Ah, Mr. Nightingale.” A deep and buttery smooth voice greeted from the other side of the room. Danny looked up to see Bruce Wayne approaching the table. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Damian’s told me quite a bit about you.”

“Sounds fake.” Danny blurted out before realizing he probably shouldn’t treat every fruitloop he met the way he treated Vlad. “Uh,” Bruce’s kids burst out in laughter. “Sorry, I didn’t.” He cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you too, mr. Wayne.”

Taking his seat, Bruce smiled. “Please, just Bruce is fine.”

“Then you can call me Danny. And this is Miguel and Santiago.” He pointed to the boys who were in a surprisingly deep conversation with Damian about what quantified a hero vs. vigilante vs. anti-hero. He prayed to the ancients the boys wouldn’t bring up any of the ghost stuff he’d told them about.

“Well we’re happy to have you over. It’s not often Damian brings friends home.” Bruce flashed another smile and Danny couldn’t help but feel they weren’t as genuine as they seemed. Don’t get him wrong, Bruce seemed nice enough for a fruitloop, but he definitely didn’t feel like the kind of person who was really this smiley.

On top of that, ever since they’d arrived Danny had been sensing more and more ectoplasm, both throughout the house and on the people living in it. He’d never noticed before (whether that was because everything seemed less ectoplasm-y outside of the realms he’d been living in for the last five years, or because he wasn’t observant, he didn’t know) but Damian had a strong ectoplasm signature. Tim and Dick had a bit of one too, but Bruce? Bruce had been around death no question.

Bruce looked around the table and frowned. “I thought Jay was coming by tonight?” He looked between his kids and the obviously open spot across from Danny and beside Dick. “Has anyone heard from-”

“All right all right- I’m here, don't get your panties in a twist!”  Just as a man Danny recognized waltzed into the room, Miguel let out a groan. Jason looked at the kid for a moment before taking his seat. “Yeah yeah kid, good to see you too.”

Miguel crossed his arms. “Din’t say it was good ta seeya.” 

Danny was still trying to process what was happening. So- there were nine ‘Waynes’ including Alfred, and he’d known six of them before even walking into the manor tonight. Holy shit- how did he not know all of these people were Waynes and how did he always get into these situations?

“Jason, you know our guests?” Bruce asked, surprise lacing his words.

Jason shrugged, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “A guy’s gotta have friends.” 

He was pretty sure Jason said it more to evade Bruce’s questions than anything else, but it was still nice to hear that Jason counted Danny as a friend even if they’d barely had the chance to get to know each other.

“Jason!” Santi gasped. “I finished that book you gave me- did you know it’s a series?” He asked excitedly.

Grinning, the man nodded. “Got the rest of the books if you’d like to borrow them too. But you’ve gotta write an essay about the book first and then we’ll talk about it in depth and then you can pick a different book.”

Santi nodded excitedly before turning back to Miguel and elbowing him. “Be nice.” He hissed.

Miguel eyed Jason warily, neither seemed to know what to say to the other.

Nobody in the Wayne family seemed to know what to say either- was it really so surprising that Jason was friends with them? While it had been a surprise every time someone Danny knew walked in the room, it hadn’t been quite as shocking as it seemed it was for Jason to know them. Maybe he was a bit of a loner?

“Babs can’t make it tonight.” Dick finally interjected. 

Bruce nodded, taking a sip of water. “She had that dinner with her dad, right?”

Dick nodded. “And Wally sends his love but he’s got a work thing.”

Alfred walked into the room and began dishing the first course and oh holy shit Danny didn’t know which fucking fork and spoon to use for everything. Ancients he hated fruitloops and their fruitloopy ways.

“So Danny,” Bruce started. Danny caught Jason rolling his eyes subtly. “Terrible what happened to your daycare, I hope none of the children were hurt?”

Danny nodded, thanking whoever was watching over him from having to pick a spoon for the soup. “Yeah Scarecrow and his goons did some damage but nobody was hurt thankfully. Duke was a great help keeping the kids safe.” He nodded to the boy who smiled sheepishly. “We usually have really good security but I’m going to have my guy look it over since, obviously, Scarecrow shouldn’t have been able to get in.”

“Yes, I’m sure that was quite the surprise-”

“A surprise? Come one B! The man tackled the scarecrow no hesitation! I don’t think he was that surprised!” Steph joked.

Danny blinked. He hadn’t realized the video those teens recorded had started so early. He could have sworn the teens didn’t start recording until after Phantom had appeared. “Ah, well, just had to make sure I held him off until someone showed up. Luckily Phantom was there so-”

“Phantom?” Bruce cut in.

“Just some vigilante who helped out. Not really one of Gotham’s I don’t think. But he took care of the fear gas and the goons and whatnot so Duke and I could watch over the kids.”

“Yeah, and then Red Hood showed up and kicked their asses!” Miguel added enthusiastically.

“Language.” Alfred and Danny scolded at the same time, everyone freezing to look between the two before laughing.

Miguel pouted and muttered something about how cool Red Hood had been while glaring at Jason.

Holding up his hands defensively, Jason smirked. “Hey you don’t gotta convince me kid, Red Hood’s my favorite too.”

Of course he’s your favorite, he’s your boyfriend. Danny thought forlornly.

Miguel untensed slightly. “Just because you got good taste in heroes don’t mean I like ya all the sudden.”

Jason glanced at Danny, smirk intensifying, before looking back. “Whatever you say kid.”

Ancients why was Jason looking at him like that? Danny rolled up the sleeves of his cardigan- why was it so hot in here? Were rich people just always running the heat or something? 

The conversation turned away from the daycare and onto other things. Steph and Cass seemed to be in a debate with Duke about the best flavor waffle- obviously it was chocolate chip- while the boys and Damian continued their previous discussion.

“How did you two meet?” Bruce asked, pointing his knife between Danny and Jason.

Jason sscowled. “The way that normal people meet, old man.” 

“Well we met at a clothing store with Damian.” Dick offered. “I’ve gotta say Danny, I haven’t seen Damian make a friend so easily before, how’d you do it?”

Danny shrugged. “I dunno, he’s a good kid.” Tim eyed him in shock. “He helped me set up my apartment for some cats I found and then I started sending him cat pics. He did the same, the boys wanted a cat, Dami was willing to teach them, now they’re friends.”

Dick choked. 

“Did you just call him Dami?” Tim asked cautiously, looking at the end of the table to see if the boy had heard.

Nodding, Danny leaned to see Damian. “Hey Dami?”

The boy pinched his eyes closed. “Yes? Nightingale?” He sighed.

Turning back to Dick, Bruce, and Tim who all gave him completely shocked looks, he smirked. “Nothing, never mind.”

“Tt.” 

“He’s a sweet kid.” Danny shrugged, finally just taking a wild guess and using one of the spoons to start eating the soup. While three of the Waynes stared at him like he was crazy and one stared at him like he was crazy but in a good way, Danny enjoyed every bite of the best bowl of soup he’d ever had.

Tim stared in awe. “You’re a madman.”

Danny snickered. “I have been told that on occasion. I don’t think this is all that crazy though.” He glanced down the table, making sure Damian wasn’t listening before continuing. “We hit it off right away, he’s a good kid, with a lot of knowledge, and was kind enough to help me.” Starting to grow uncomfortable with the stares he was getting, Danny changed the subject. “Enough about me, Tim, how're your boyfriends?”

Clearly knowing what Danny was doing but not caring, Tim rolled his eyes and started on some rant about how his boyfriend Kon who’d apparently made some bet about who could plan the better date for their other boyfriend Bernard. Tim pretended to be annoyed but it was obvious he loved them and their antics and Danny couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to date multiple people.

For no specific reason.

Just.

Science.

Before he knew it they’d been served the main dish which was amazing if not a bit familiar for some reason. Something about the sauce- taking a good look at what he was eating, Danny made the connection. Vindaloo. Hood brought them vindaloo once and after mentioning how much they’d liked it, he brought it again. Hood had never repeated a dish except the vindaloo. But why would they taste identical? Hood must have his own recipe for the food.

“Alf, you gotta help me out here-” Jason cut into his thoughts. “I can never get the meat as tender as you do! I’ve tried tenderizing it, marinating it, cooking it longer- what’s your secret!” 

Alfred gave Jason a knowing smile and, without a word, turned and left. While Jason pouted Danny finally connected the dots. It was either one of two answers.

One, Hood wasn’t actually cooking the food, Jason was, and Hood was just the delivery boy. Or two, Jason and Hood cooked together so Hood’s recipe came from him. Either way, it more than confirmed his theory that Hood and Jason were dating- Jason literally just said that Red Hood was his favorite vigilante!

Danny wished he could say the food stopped tasting good once he realized, but it didn’t. It tasted even better than Hood’s (Jason’s?), something Danny didn’t think possible.

“So Danny, where are you from?” Dick asked, finally sensing the lull in the conversation.

Swallowing the bite he’d been chewing for way too long, Danny wiped his mouth with the napkin. “A small town in Illinois you probably haven’t heard of. But I haven’t been there in years, traveled a bit, ended up here. Honestly, Gotham’s more like home than the town I grew up in ever was.” 

Dick frowned but Bruce is the one who responded. “Why is that?”

Danny shrugged. “My parents were the town crazies so making friends was difficult.”

Please stop asking about Jack and Maddie.

Of course luck wouldn’t be in his favor. 

“Why were they the village crazies?” Tim asked analytically.

“Father,” Damian cut in. “If we may be excused, I’d like to show Miguel and Santiago the barn.”

Bruce nodded. “Of course, you boys be careful out there.” After the boys had excused themselves, Bruce turned back to Danny. “I’m sorry, you were saying?” 

Something told Danny that Bruce really wanted to know about his parents. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he was being watched. He obviously was, there were many pairs of eyes on him, but it was more than that. He felt like the people watching him were analyzing him, peering into his soul, pulling back his layers and layers of defenses and digging around for what they could find inside.

It felt like back in his parents basement when he first woke up and there were cuffs around his wrists and ankles and a gag in his mouth and his parents screamed at him about killing their son. It felt like when they cut into him for the first time and rooted around in his chest, pushing and pulling with no care for what they moved or damaged, searching, searching, searching, for his core. It felt like when they turned him over to the GIW for further ‘study’ and experimentation and he learned what it felt like to lose a limb and an organ and an eye and-

“Danny?”

Seven pairs of eyes stared at him in concern. “Uh, sorry.” Danny unclenched his hand from the tablecloth and forced an uncomfortable chuckle. “Jack and Maddie were ectobiologists- they studied ghosts, the paranormal, that kind of thing. Makes people think you’re crazy and- to be fair- they were so.” Danny ended with a pathetic shrug and took a sip of water to avoid speaking anymore.

“They studied ghosts?” Steph asked, leaning over Cass to get closer to the conversation. “What was that like?”

Clearing his throat, Danny tried not to feel like he was being interrogated. “It made for an interesting childhood.” He didn’t like the way Cass was looking at him- he thought she could definitely read his body language better than he wanted. “Anyways, I certainly didn’t want to do what they did and eventually decided to move here and open a daycare.” Please let them latch onto the daycare, please-

“How’d they feel about that?” Bruce asked. Oh course the parent in the room would ask how his parents felt about his decision. Jason looked like he was about to say something but Danny was getting annoyed with this line of questioning.

A bit tired of the interrogation, Danny shrugged defiantly. “They didn’t know. I don’t exactly speak to them anymore and haven’t spoken to them since I turned eighteen.”

“Why not?” Dick asked, promptly shutting up when Jason shoved an elbow in his ribs.

“All right, well I think that’s enough interrogating our guest. What would Alfred say?” He asked, looking each Wayne in the eye. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Eat your vindaloo and shut the hell up.” Turning back to Danny, he smiled. “So Danny, what’s been your favorite part of Gotham so far?”

Oh thank Ancients for Jason Todd.

Prev. Next

[slvtforfiction]

Stalker!Ghost brainrot

☆ Stalker!Ghost is ruining my brain

☆ Ghost X Reader

☆ TW stalking obvs

☆ New account layout,will try change old layout as much as possible,requests are open.

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Divider creds to @cafekitsune :)

Masterlist | Pinned Post | Part 2

☆ He’s a shadow himself so becoming a second shadow to you is particularly easy.

☆ Not to say you don’t notice anything’s wrong,you’re paranoid constantly,you feel like someone’s watching you but you can never really pinpoint it and so you sigh daily and quietly accept that you might be going insane.

☆ You start to realise when you come home from the gym,unloading your washing from the dryer and realising that all of your panties are missing and the laundry looks like someone had sifted through it.

☆ That night you don’t sleep,you cry most of the night,shaking and flinching when you hear a noise,scared that someone or something is out to get you.

☆ But Ghost’s not that silly, he’s watching you cry through the window,sighing to himself. He didn’t want his girl to be upset.

☆ As you clamber your way out of bed the next morning,most of the night spent in floods of tears and paranoia,you make your way to work quietly,looking over your shoulder as you walk into town.

☆ Ghost is watching from the shadows and as you open up shop he’s your first customer,getting his morning coffee as you try to put on a smile for the day of work,after all it’s not this strangers fault that your so paranoid.

☆ Ghost gets bold,walking into your house whenever he pleases,he even has a copy of your key at the point.

☆ Ghost doesn’t know what comes over him but after smashing one of your favourite mugs he frowns and places a sticky note on the counter next to five £20 notes.

☆ As you come home from work you still feel paranoid,almost depressed from how watched you felt.

☆ You opened your front door,slowly peaking in almost expecting someone to jump out at you but you see nothing but an empty house.

☆ You walk in cautiously and take off your shoes before walking into your kitchen,looking at the money and sticky note as you enter,suddenly the fear returns,coursing through your body before you read the note.

☆ Sorry love didn’t mean to break your mug,bit of cash to get yourself a new one

Love,ghost.

☆ In a flash decision you decide to find a pen and paper,scribbling down any thoughts left in your head.

☆ Who are you? Please don’t hurt me,if I’ve done something that wronged you in any way I’m so so sorry and I’ll make up for it any way you want I promise,just please don’t hurt me

☆ Your fear doesn’t subside as you walk up to your bedroom,it’s almost like the stalker is taunting you,waiting for you to lose your guard.

☆ You make your way to bed,once again without an inkling of sleep yet once you trudge down the stairs in the morning thankful you don’t have work today you see that your paper is gone and replaced with a sticky note.

☆ I’m not going to hurt you sweets,don’t you worry your pretty little head,I just wanna help you.

Love,Ghost.

Hey guys if you like this post you should follow my Wattpad to get a notification when I post my ghost fic! It’s Christmas themed,slow burn and I know you’ll all definitely love it - Char 💞

Wattpad

out nov 25th 00:00 gmt*

[miss-maam-ava]

Now that we have 100 followers…

[stuckinapril]

reminding myself on this busy morning that i also have dreams of taking piano lessons & singing lessons & also honing my writing skills & absorbing as many books as i used to when i was a kid & at the very least taking up cute tennis dates & dabbling into art & just becoming an artistic generalist. also reminding myself that there are pre-meds out there who managed to pursue something they’re passionate in (some are even professional athletes) & still excelled in medicine & if they can do it so can I

[buckymorelikefuckme]

headcanon: 6

“I loathe you,” you hiss through clenched teeth.

Bucky laughs humorlessly. “Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?” He clutches his chest, pouting in faux pain. “That cuts me real deep, sweetheart.”

You sneer. “I bet it fucking does. You want me so bad you can’t stand it.”

That makes genuine anger flash in his eyes. Satisfaction hums through your veins, because you know you’re right, and he knows you’re right.

“One day I just might get over that,” he finally replies, and you blink in confusion at his easy admission. “But you?” he continues, closing the distance between you until you can feel the warmth of his solid body.

You hate the way you have to crane your neck up to look him in the eye, and you know he’s done that on purpose.

“You will never forget me. I’ll be on your mind until the day you die, and even beyond that, I’ll make it my mission to make your afterlife a living hell with the memory of what you could have had, but were too stubborn to take. Because you’re a fucking coward.”

[whosthere54]

I can’t express how much paper and ink by Madds Buckley is WetBirds coded.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

one of the worst feelings ever is wanting to write but your hands hurt too much or the words just don’t want to work so you just sit there staring at a half finished doc with tears in your eyes bc you want to write and you need to write but everything is telling you that you can’t

[nightmare8-420]

i feel like a part of my soul has been ripped from my chest and i dont know why.