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hellsquills · 1 month ago

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Disclaimer: I know about the duffle bag Filbrick threw at him, but you can ignore that if you want

My thoughts below the cut! (this turned into a whole ass fic lmao)

My personal headcanon is that Filbrick is as much of a coward as he is of an asshole. Therefore, he wouldn't have kicked Stan when he did in canon. Probably not for a while after that.

However, he does try to send him to military school. He keeps talking about how this kid needs to learn discipline and respect, and if he's not gonna bring money to the house, then he should at least bring some honor to his family.

Stan obviously does NOT want to go. Not only because it's a pointless war ("what've the vietnamese done to us anyways?") but because he remembers his mother's face when Shermie got drafted and he will NOT make her go through that hell again. Also, he doesn't wanna die!!!! Hello?????

He talks it out over the phone with Ford, who's obviously just as against it as he is. He tells Stan that, if he gets into a PhD program, he could skip military. Stan laughs in his face. It'd be easier to jump off the plane without a parachute.

And so, he comes up with a plan. When he goes to take his physical, he tries his best to botch it. If he is bad enough, if it looks like he can't do it, maybe he won't have to. Unfortunately, the recruiters are far too used to this by now, and they don't buy it. Stan goes home with a recruitment letter hidden in his jacket.

Everything goes downhill after that. He runs away from home, changes his name several times, does some crime here and there... The military is after him, and it doesn't take rejection kindly.

Stan stays out of contact with his family for a few years. He can't risk getting them involved in this mess. They don't deserve it. So he just leaves, without saying a word, in the middle of the night. No phone calls, no notes, nothing. Not even he knows where he's going. But if it just looks like he abandoned them, maybe they'll hate him. That will make them sound more believable with the police. They aren't covering for him, because they genuinely have no idea where he is. It's the best way to keep them safe.

In that time, Ford doesn't stop looking for him. He finds him every once in a while, but only his phone number, and he knows that could give away his brother's location and get the family in trouble. So, against his deepest instincts, he doesn't call.

One, three, five, seven years pass. Stan has been around almost all the country, and is genuinely considering leaving it. Maybe going to Mexico, or Colombia. Those sound nice. Maybe they'll be nicer to him.

He's passing his time and thinking about this in a small town restaurant in wherever he's in (somewhere he's not banned from, yet), when a family enters. He doesn't make eye contact, but he can't help but stare at them: a man and a woman, probably in their 50s, with 7 kids; one must be older than him, the second one around his age, the third one a little younger, the fourth one a teenager, and the last three between 10 and 15, no more. Except for the last three, they're all taller than him, even the mother, and they have various degrees of blond hair. Their clothes (overalls and plastic boots) suggest they must work in one of the farms he's seen around the state. They don't wear any accessories, except for the glasses that the father and four of the kids have. They're talking loudly and laughing. They look exhausted from a morning of hard work. They seem happy. They... look nothing like his family, and yet, he can't help but think about it.

He can't help the sob that comes to his throat. It's loud and messy from trying to suppress it, which obviously makes it worse. He covers his mouth immediately, and at that point he notices the tears that have run down his cheeks. "Great", he thinks, "that will make it easier to hide, for sure".

He doesn't move. He wants to escape, but that will draw even more attention to him, and he hasn't even paid for the food yet (normally he'd leave without paying, but the old waitress was kind enough to give him some extra food when she saw how little he ordered). He settles for not moving, lowering his head and covering his face, hoping that no one heard (unlikely) or cared (very likely).

"Ya'lright, son?"

The voice startles him. I wasn't very deep, but it was close enough to send his body into immediate danger mode. He looks up at the man towering over him, who's standing in front of him at a prudential distance.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, no worries."

He hates how broken his voice sounds. He's spent more than enough time sweet-talking his way out of trouble, he should be better at this by now. The man looks about as convinced by it as he is himself.

" 'lright then. Can I help ya?"

Damn villagers and their welcoming demeanor. If he wasn't a wanted man, he would appreciate it. But right now, it couldn't be worse timing.

"Come get ya food, kids!" The waitress' yell yanks him out of his thoughts.

"No", he blurts out, and he turns to the man. Least he can do is show him some respect and look him in the eyes. "I'm fine, thank you."

The man smiles lightly and nods. "Okay. Welcome to the town."

Stan watches as the man goes back to his table. He wishes he had been more polite, the guy was just worrying about him, but he can't afford it. They already know his face, he can't risk anyone else recognizing him-

"Sweet Mother of God almighty."

Stan turns to his right. One of the kids, the one about his age, is looking at him like he just grew a second head. He's frozen in place, his eyes wide as plates behind thick glasses. He doesn't say a word, and it's getting increasingly unnerving. Was the bruising on his face still visible? Maybe it's more apparent in broad daylight than in the shitty light that last motel had in the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, I- Can I ask your name?"

The fuck?

"No", answers Stan. Considering how nice his dad was, this guy is pretty rude.

"Son, leave him alone." The mother seems to have manners too, good to know.

The guy does pretty much the opposite. He comes closer to him, until he's right in his path, blocking his exit. That can't be good. Stan feels trapped.

"Are you Stanley Pines?"

Well, that's about it.

Stan tries his best to stay still. This guy doesn't look like a cop, not even an undercover one. But he knows his real name, so maybe someone in his family or friends works in the police; or worse, in the military.

"Listen man, I don't know who you're talking about, but that isn't my name. See?" He reaches for his wallet. He pulls out an ID, with a very clear Jackson Cage on it. He makes a mental note to change it soon, just in case his hunch is right and this guy has connections. "Now, if you excuse me, I'd like to pay for my food and leave. Move."

Stan is already on his feet, but the guy hasn't moved. Stan looks him up and down, trying to appear threatening despite his face probably still being a little red from before. He also gauges how feasible it'd be to escape if things turned bad; the dude is taller than him, sure, but he's also as thin as a toothpick, and by the anxious look on his face, he doesn't seem eager for a fight. The real problem would be evading the restaurant's staff and the other costumers, which include eight carbon copies of the guy in front of him. Probably better to try to de-escalate the situation.

"I- I can't let you leave. Please. I know who you are."

This man is making it really difficult to believe he's not a cop.

"No, you don't. I'm new in town. Move."

"Listen, I-"

"Move out of my way."

"I know your brother."

The words are like a bullet between his eyebrows.

"You look just like him-"

Against his better judgement, he quickly grabs he guy and pins him to the wood in between the booth benches, arm to his throat. If he knows Ford, he knows too much. God he just wanted to have lunch.

The commotion is immediate. He doesn't break eye contact with the guy who's grabbing his arm, whose strength is frankly surprising. He can hear, however, the screams from the dad and the siblings, as well as a couple of gasps from the other costumers. This is not going to go well, but fuck that. He's escaped worse.

"Stop!", the guy shouts as he keeps Stan's forearm from blocking his airway. "Don't hurt him! Don't get closer!"

It takes Stan a second to process what he said. The first part, sure, who wouldn't shout 'stop' when you're being attacked? But the second half doesn't make sense. Is he protecting him? The attacker?

Whatever it is, it works. The family stops in their tracks, still very ready to attack if needed. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the three younger kids moving closer to their mother. For a split second, he feels a pang of remorse for the scene he just caused.

"Hang up the phone, Clarisse, it's okay. Please."

Stan looks in the direction the guy was talking to. Right behind him, the waitress reluctantly puts the phone down.

He looks back at the guy. He looks a little shaken up, probably from the impact his back (and his head?) made with the wooden plank, but he doesn't look scared. He almost looks... sympathetic? Stan is confused as hell.

"I know who you are", the guy whispers, low enough for Stan to hear alone. "You're Stanley Pines, and you have a brother named Stanford. I know him, okay? He's my friend. I met him a few years ago in a quantum physics congress and we've been talking ever since. He told me about his family in New Jersey, and about you. About how he hasn't seen you in years, and how he was trying to find you, to no avail."

Stan is gradually loosening his grip on the guy's neck, who takes a deep breath. He should know better, but- shit, hearing that Ford was looking for him was not what he expected. Even if he doesn't know yet if this guy is lying out of his ass, it's enough to make him doubt.

"I know you were called to Vietnam. He told me. I spent a week with him in his place when he found out, he was unconsollable. When you ran away, he called me. He knew what it meant for you and he thought he'd never see you again, whether you got caught or not. All because of that stupid war." Stan is now trembling a little, he knows it. This guy must know it too, with how close they are. If he stays here any longer he'll break down, but he can't move. Anything to hear his brother's name a little longer. "I know what it's like. Three of my cousins were drafted last year, and I know at least one of them won't be coming back home. Please... let me help you."

Stan meets his eyes. They're green and brown-ish, not unlike the immense fields he's seen in his last journey, the one that led him to this town. With the years, he's learned not to trust beautiful eyes, because they are better at hiding. These ones, however, seem serene and honest, just like his words, and he can't help but believing them. This guy, whoever the fuck he is, knows just about enough.

Stan lowers his right arm. The guy still has his hand on it, but this time is much less defensive and much more comforting. He doesn't complain.

"My name's Fiddleford McGucket, and I'm gonna help you find your brother."

______________________________

Essentially, after this Fidds calls Ford as if nothing happened (per Stan's request, since he's still paranoid about the police tracking his calls) and asks him to come to Tennessee. Ford argues that he's very busy and all, but Fidds convinces him in the end.

Obviously the twins have a dual breakdown and cry their heart out. In this AU they're much less emotionally constipated lol

Ford tells Stan that he's gonna build a house in a small town in Oregon as a part of his research, and asks him to move in with him once it's finished. Stan, of course, accepts.

In the meantime, Stan stays in the McGucket farm and helps them out as a way of laying low. He has a great relationship with his family, and they're very proud of him for what he did (i believe that the McGuckets are hippies at heart, and they're VERY anti-war, especially when it already took three of them)

I don't know how much of the canon storyline would this AU follow, but it's pretty much your average Mystery Trio AU with some different backstory

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dreamofbecoming · 2 years ago

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listen i know we all love steve “completely ignorant of queer culture to the point that bisexuality is a surprise” harrington being roasted and educated in turns by robin and eddie, yadda yadda, good stuff. i read “they made a horror version of rocky?” in a fic recently and cackled. also a big fan of “he knew he was bi from the start and just never talked about it” as a trope, love it excellent well done

but what about steve who realizes after starcourt that the most important person in his life now has this thing that’s a major part of her life that he knows nothing about, and what if he fucks it up? what if he says something ignorant or rude by accident, and hurts her? what if he loses her because he didn’t know the right thing to say? what if he can’t keep her safe because he doesn’t know what to look out for? absolutely fucking not, this steve says

and listen she’d never say anything, because she can tell that he can tell how much she likes teasing him and teaching him things, so he plays dumb, and she thinks it’s very sweet. but she notices when the zines she keeps under her bed that she buys at that one secret bookshop in indy when she can sneak away on family trips start going missing, always one at a time, and replaced in a few days with another disappearing. and she finds the new ones he must have gone to buy the weekend she was at her aunt’s house hidden in the back of his closet when she goes to steal one of his sweaters. and she notices when he slips more of her queerer movie recommendations into his personal take home pile rather than the movie night stack when he thinks she’s not looking.

she doesn’t notice when he drives to indianapolis after she tries to explain to him why she can’t just ask out a cute girl, tries to impress on him the fear attached to every moment of attraction that he simply has never had to feel, but later she finds a crumpled receipt from a diner in one of his jacket pockets when she’s looking for his keys, and the address is across the street from the bar the gorgeous woman at the bookstore told her about, the one she memorized the address of but hasn’t worked up the guts to think about visiting, and she knows he must have gone looking for a place like that, must have been trying to understand, must have been scoping it out to make sure it was somewhere she could feel safe, after she told him she never had.

so when eddie nearly pops a blood vessel when they clock each other and she mentions that steve is the only person she’s ever come out to before, her hackles come up. because she gets it, she does, he’s only known king steve until recently, so it makes sense that he would be afraid, be concerned for her safety.

but steve is her person, and no one- no one- has ever made her feel as protected or as cared for as he does. no one has ever tried as hard to understand her, no one has ever put so much work into making her feel safe and seen and loved. and she thinks maybe even if no one else ever does, that’s ok. because she has steve, and more importantly steve has her, and that means no one gets to question his ally credentials in her presence without a dressing down to remember, no matter how well they mean or how recently they helped save the world.

(and maybe she’s not as surprised as she could be when he figures out bisexuality all on his own, because she’s been reading all the same pamphlets he has, after all. and she’s seen the way he looks at eddie, i mean come on. maybe no one else has noticed, but then, nobody knows steve harrington like she does.)

#stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #steddie #(if you squint)#this got away from me #i just really love love giving steve a bit more credit yk?#like yes he’s very stupid and he has a history of being self absorbed #and we love that about him #he’s very flawed and that makes him interesting #but i really feel like one of his defining traits is his need to be useful to the people he loves #combine that with his abandonment issues and i really feel like he would be scared of fucking up and losing robin #and yeah he would play dumb like he does with dustin and d&d #but i don’t believe he knows nothing about d&d after all this time and i don’t believe he would let himself know nothing about queer culture #i’m just so so attached to the idea of steve who knows that teasing him for being dumb is his friends’ love language with him #so he pretends to be dumber than he is so they have chances to explain things to him #also stobin sharing clothes is so so so important to me just putting that out there #anyway i just think they’re neat #my writing

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brawlite · 2 months ago

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re-reading old fic you've written like, "damn, this really slaps. it's like someone wrote it just for me :)"

#brawls talks #love to get enough distance between me and the writing that it's no longer error-city #and instead a shot of straight vibes right 2 my preferences #like yes i love sharing fic but really when it boils down to it: this is a little present for me

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mattodore · 1 month ago

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birthday boy 🎂

#river dipping #theodore doe #matthias evanoff #a burning house to live in #echthroi #ts4 #ts4 edit #simblr #ts4 screenshots #theo i hope you're having the most insane birthday sex rn i hope it's ******** and ***** and ***'** **** *** **** ***** :)<3 #sorry i put off making your birthday edit for so long that i had to pivot and post this edit instead of the one i wanted </3 #...very funny how similar this is to that LAST render i posted... well so WHAT!! if i think matthias looming is sexy!!#this is based on a photo that everyone was drawing their ocs as so really it's not MY fault he's back there clinging and being a freak #actually if y'all want this pose lmk... i'll share it but fyi it's only meant to be seen from the waist up and idk how it'd look #on a sim that doesn't have the same muscle mass and like. bulk. that matthias has......................................#just got rock hard after typing that... anyway.#HAPPY BIRTHDAY THEO <333333333 LOVE YOU SO MUCH I PROMISE I'M GONNA KEEP WORKING ON THE //ACTUAL// BIRTHDAY EDIT!! like .#posted abt this on the sideblog but the real edit i have planned for him is making me lose my fucking gourd #and it'll probably take me :))) a few more days to figure out #expect a depressing theo-as-a-teenager edit eventually tho. with writing!! accompanying it!!#matthias's face has changed again btw 😭 i redid it almost immediately after i posted that first render attempt so he looks DIFFERENT!!#i posted screenshots of him in cas just the other day on my other acc and he looks so good in them i might post them here too #oh and!! this edit looks massively different than my last because this screenshot was taken with a new preset i made specifically for #the real birthday edit i'm working on... it's a hallway scene so i figured out depth and density to get this really cool fog effect #i'm really excited for it!! in my head the way it looks makes me crazy but idk if i can pull it off properly. but like i WAS SAYING!!#new preset is sooo sexy after i post this i'll reblog with the before and after to show you how good it looks even w/o any editing #like. the colors....... literally have always wanted a preset like this i'm so glad i spent yesterday fucking around with it #ALSO!! i've been doing those oc/ship dynamic templates for fun recently so i might post a few of them here soon #realize i'm rambling so much in these tags bc i haven't been here in forever kfjnkfjhn ummmmm. let me stop.#EVERYONE WISH THEO HAPPY BIRTHDAY RIGHT NOW 🫵‼

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ikeasharksss · 2 years ago

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hey im curious

feel free to rb & explain your answer in the tags!

#i will go first <3 #i reread my own fics all the time!!!#it's so fun!!#i am the target audience for every fic i have ever written #like even if it's a gift/for an event i write it bc i am genuinely interested in it #so of COURSE im going to enjoy looking back on those fics #i have uh 24 fics on ao3 now?#so i dont reread All of them #i mainly reread my longer fics bc i just have the most fun writing them #i encourage ppl to reread their own work bc #1 its fun to see how your writing has changed #(my writing has gone through So Much since i started in 2019 lol)#2 if you write for yourself then youll always love what youve written!#n e way thats my 2 cents #pls share w/ me i am very curious #thanks love ya #fanfiction #fanfic #<- promo tags ig

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luxaofhesperides · 11 months ago

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Ghostlights where Phantom saves Duke or the Signal, and a week later (at a Wayne gala or some other place) Duke recognizes the light/aura coming from Danny

Putting off gala prep was perhaps not the best plan. Duke spent the past month insisting that everything is fine and he has it under control. Duke is also a lying liar who lies, and now he’s frantically trying to pick up his suit in time to get it dry cleaned and altered as necessary.

Alfred would be disappointed in him, but in Duke’s defense, he had to go out of town on a mission to bust a growing drug cartel, and then spent half a week visiting a shelter for metas on the run (unofficial and hidden away) to help everyone find new homes and learn to control their powers. These things take time!

Unfortunately, gala prep also takes time, and since it’s a charity gala for funding the education of every Gothamite student, it’s not one he can slip out of. The entire family is being strong-armed into attending and not making a scene until the donation period in the first half is over.

Duke knows he’s not the only one who’s scrambling to get ready for a gala that’s taking place in three days, but they’re not helping him, so it feels like he’s the only one messing up.

“Sorry!” he calls behind him as he sprints through a group of people.

He could have asked someone to drive him, but he knows they’re all busy and doesn’t want his own poor time management to cause problems for anyone else. Even though he’s sure Bruce is looking for an excuse to get out of a mandatory Wayne Enterprises board meeting that both Lucius and Tim dragged him to.

RIP Bruce. He will be missed.

The Diamond District is full of people walking the streets, sprinting between parked cars and waiting for their rides. They’re all dressed nicely, making him feel out of place. It’s a feeling that’s never left him since he joined the Waynes but it’s particularly bad when he’s left to navigate these spaces alone. Rich people and socialites are a different kind of human, one that Duke doesn’t care to understand; there’s greed in all of them, turning them heartless, and they can give as much as they want to charity but it won’t change the fact that all they do is a performance to make people like them, rather than a desire to do anything good.

The sooner this is over, the better. He keeps going, hoping that he can still make it to his appointment with the tailor. Alfred recommended the store, then set up the appointment, so all Duke has to do is trust their judgment as they get him fitted. He’s still got twenty minutes until the scheduled time, but some unspoken rule makes it so he has to show up fifteen minutes early for better service or risk being turned away and told to reschedule.

Duke slows to a walk when he catches sight of the store, the trying to catch his breath and look more composed before he reaches the door. He takes a moment to straighten his clothes a bit, then opens the door and steps in.

The bell jingles pleasantly above his head. The store is empty of any other customers, and the employee at the front counter looks up with a plastered on smile.

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” she says, then looks down at her phone and types something out before placing it under the counter. A tablet comes out instead and she swipes through a few screens, then sets it down and look at Duke again. “How can I help you, sir?”

“I have an appointment? For a suit fitting. Under the name Thomas.”

She taps on the screen for a minute, then nods and gives him another customer service smile. “Alright, I’ll go ahead and grab the tailor. They’ll be out with your suit soon. Please, feel free to take a seat or browse some of our suits. We just recently got a new collection in from Italy.”

“Sure, thanks. I’ll just… be here, I guess.”

The employee takes her tablet and disappears through a door, leaving him alone in the store. He doesn’t want to sit down, not while his heart is still trying to settle from his sprint through half of Diamond District, so Duke wanders around the neat stacks of dress shirts and vests, pants and belts and shoes lined up neatly against the walls.

He takes a moment to shoot Alfred a text that he’s at the tailor for his fitting appointment. Steph’s sent him a long string of videos online, and he’s just about to go through them when the bell rings again.

Duke glances up and watches a guy walk into the store. He looks around, makes eye contact with Duke, then quickly looks down, taking a seat by the door.

Probably another upper class citizen uncomfortable with the fact that someone in jeans and a hoodie is shopping for suits. Shaking his head lightly, Duke wanders deeper into the store to get some distance between them so they could ignore each other more easily. It’s only until the tailor comes out, and then he can go to a fitting room and be done with this whole thing, so Duke resigns himself to suffering through the tense silence.

How long is he even supposed to wait? He can only look at clothes in one of three colors before he gets bored.

He goes to another rack, trying to see if he can notice anything different about these shirts.

And then he hears a shoe scuff against the floor behind him. He tenses up, but before he can turn around, a belt is wound around his throat, pulling him back and choking him.

Duke drops his weight, tucking his chin and gets a hand against the inside of the belt to try to push it away. His back hits someone’s chest and he’s trapped, focused on trying not to be choked to death while also keeping his vigilante abilities and meta powers secret.

More footsteps come from behind, and a soaked cloth is pressed against his nose and mouth.

Chloroform, he realizes, familiar with the smell from Bruce’s training. But training isn’t enough to keep him from being knocked out, and he quickly slips away from the waking world, falling to the ground.

Just before he passes out completely, he hears the employee who greeted him say, “I’m not sure how much Wayne would be willing to pay for him, but let’s start high and negotiate lower. New kid can’t possibly be worth that much…”

Duke wakes up groggily, memories of what happened quickly snapping into place. He’s too out of it still to get up, but he’s awake enough to be offended. Sure he’s the new kid, and barely even a Wayne, but he’s still worth a lot!

Kidnappers these days. So rude.

He doesn’t hear anyone around him, and it feels like he’s lying on a cold concrete floor. Basement, maybe? Warehouse? Storage unit tucked away somewhere? There’s nothing much to see when Duke is able to open his eyes, squinting bareilly at his surroundings. His arms are tied behind him, wrists bound, but they left his legs alone.

If he could just hit the panic button on his bracelet…

Duke wiggles around, fighting through the lingering effects of Chloroform, and manages to sit up. If he strains his hearing, he thinks he can hear voices outside of the empty room he’s been left in. There’s a window high up, too high for a normal person to reach without help, but if he can use the shadows to travel through it, then he may be able to escape on his own.

First things first: he needs to free his hands before anyone comes in to check on him.

They used zip ties on him, which is inconvenient. He’s learned how to get out of them, but it’s difficult enough without being drugged and having to do it behind his back.

He’s feeling the zip ties bite into his wrists just as there’s a crash from outside the room. His kidnappers yell, alarmed, and are quickly silenced. That’s rarely ever a good sign. Duke renews his efforts to escape, ignore the pain in pushing against his binds like this.

The door opens. Duke hears the small click of a lock disengaging and freezes. Then he gets to his feet, still unsteady, and prepares to ram his head into anyone who comes near him like some sort of deranged battering ram, or a drunk raging bull.

Duke is ready for the worst: a gang hoping to steal away a Wayne hostage, a Rogue, Gnomon popping in to cause trouble for the sole purpose of getting on Duke’s nerve.

He’s not expecting another teenage boy, who is literally glowing, to poke his head in and zero in on Duke. He blinks, then smiles; it’s friendly and sincere, nothing like the employee who helped kidnap him.

“Hey!” he says, coming into the room properly. He’s floating a good foot off the ground, eyes a bright neon green, with white hair that sways as if he’s underwater. “Are you okay? I saw them drag you out of the back of the store and followed them, but I got a bit lost. Sorry for taking so long to get here.”

“...It’s fine?” Duke offers, trying to wrap his head around what’s happening. “I wasn’t expecting a rescue so soon, anyways. Think you can help me out here?”

“Yeah, of course!” he flies closer, then drops down to the ground behind Duke. He hums lightly under his breath, and then Duke feels a cold touch on his wrist and the zip ties are suddenly gone.

Duke blinks, then brings his arms in front of him. He moves around a bit to make sure he’s not hallucination, and sure enough, he’s free and unbound because a random meta teenager vanished the zip ties into the ether, or something.

“Thanks, man. Any idea where we are?”

“Not a clue. I got lost coming here, and I was following them. I don’t think you should trust any directions I give.”

“Fair enough,” Duke laughs. “I’m Duke, by the way.”

“Phantom.”

“Well, thanks for the save, Phantom. Can I treat you to something?”

“Like, coffee?”

“Sure. Or brunch, or ice cream. Whatever you want, really.”

Phantom considers it for a moment, then shakes his head. “Sorry, I would love to but going out in public looking like this,” he gestures to himself, “Is not a great idea. Thanks for the offer though. You got a ride?”

Duke pats his pockets, then sighs. “My phone’s gone. I still have my wallet, though.”

“I fly you to someplace you can call someone, if you’d like.”

“You sure? I could probably just walk out of here and call a taxi.”

“I don’t think walking around by yourself after being kidnapped is a great idea,” Phantom says, doubtfully. “Seriously, let me fly you.”

He should just hit the panic button and wait for someone to show up to get him. He shouldn’t go to some unknown location with a meta he literally just met.

But, you know what? No one else can say they got kidnapped twice in one day, so Duke nods and says, “Sure, sweep me off my feet, Phantom. You gotta commit to this rescue.”

Phantom laughs. And then he does sweep Duke off his feet into a princess carry with a cheeky grin and flies them out the building, which turns out to be an abandoned apartment building slated for demolition.

“Keep this up and you’ll be replacing Superman in no time,” Duke jokes.

“I think I could manage it,” Phantom replies thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m already prettier than him, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely. The glow really brings out your eyes.”

Phantom gets him a few blocks away when Duke recognizes where they are, and quickly directs him into Crime Alley. They land on top of one of Jason’s safe houses, and while he’s sure there’s enough security to take out a SWAT Team, that’s absolutely not going to stop him from breaking in to use one of Jason’s burner phones and eat his leftovers.

He’s set down on his feet gently, and as soon as Phantom sees that he’s fine, able to walk and everything, he floats back up, just out of reach.

“Be careful, okay?” he says, getting ready to leave.

“I’ll do my best. Hey, are you gonna be in Gotham for a while, or…?”

Phantom gives him a tired smile. “Nah. I’m just passing through. As long as my luck doesn’t get even worse, then I should be out of here in a few days.”

“Shame,” Duke says, giving Phantom a very visible once over. He’s pretty tall, and Duke can see some muscle on him, and the tight black outfit really adds to his look. The glow that comes out of his chest makes him look ethereal and Duke is beyond glad that he got such a charming rescuer.

Phantom doesn’t blush like a normal person. He glows brighter instead, curling into himself a bit as he looks away, unable to stop the smile from growing on his face.

“I guess,” he shrugs. “Are you really going to be alright from here?”

“Yeah, man, I have a friend who lives here. I’ll just bother him until he agrees to give me a ride.”

“Alright.” Phantom drifts away, glancing behind him before turning back to Duke. “I’ll get going then. Take care, Duke!”

Duke waves and watches as Phantom begins to fly away. Then Phantom… disappears? Or rather, his body does but Duke can see an orb of light making its way across Gotham, almost like a star fallen from the sky.

He stays on the roof until the light is long gone. When he’s finally ready to go in and steal from Jason, the sun has completely set.

And he still doesn’t have his suit.

Duke sighs, and mentally prepares himself to other day of stressing out about the gala.

Three days of stress and last minute scrambling leave Duke in the Gotham Museum of Modern Art with Steph, Tim, Cass, and Damian. They’re hiding in the photography gallery to avoid other guests, taking a break from being polite and letting thinly veiled, passive aggressive insults slide over them.

“How much longer must we suffer this before we can go?” Damian grumbles, looking like he’s do anything to get his hands on a blade. Which, considering how many people tried to either pinch his cheeks are say some racist remark about him and his mother, is totally fair. Duke would just punch them, but sometimes a little drama helped get the message across.

“At least two more hours,” Tim says, not bothering to look up from his phone. From what few glimpses of the screen Duke caught, he’s leading a Titans missions through text and clever hacking. Though it may be more accurate to call is a Young Justice mission since there’s no way any of this was authorized by a Justice League member.

Also Anita, suited up as Empress, is there. If they aren’t on the news for property destruction and absolutely batshit wild shenanigans, Duke will have to check on Tim to make sure he’s not a pod person sent to infiltrate the family.

“Think we can sneak out without anyone noticing?” Steph asks, looking at the emergency exit longingly.

Cass shakes her head and points to the door leading to the ballroom. When they look over, Dick makes very deliberate eye contact with them and give them a smile that looks stretched across his face.

Tim winces and pushes Duke. “Oh, something went down. Go take over for him and let Dick rest in here for a bit.”

“Man, why does it have to be me?” he grumbles even as he stands. Dick lets out a heavy breath and gives Duke a grateful smile, patting on the shoulder before shoving him out the door.

As soon as he’s back into the main hallway, the music and chatter swell, no longer muffled by the thick walls of the photography wing. A few people come and go from the ballroom, no doubt looking for the restroom.

Or more private places for… other things. Things they definitely shouldn’t be doing in an art museum.

He really can’t wait for this night to be over.

Duke joins the rest of the guests, fake smile on his face, and quickly makes his way to the snack table. He might as well make the most of his time stuck out here. Maybe he could even cause another relationship scandal by implying that Bruce is sleeping with one of partners when in hearing distance of a couple. Maybe even both of them.

Bruce would go with it. It’s hilarious and he also needs something to make these events bearable.

Sadly, he doesn’t see any good targets as he scans the ballroom. A few people are dancing, while others are talking in small circles, closed off from outsiders. There’s an entire table of old ladies with glasses of wine in front of them; Duke considers hanging around them, since they confess to a lot of crimes after a few glasses. It’s fascinating.

Also, he does kind of miss hanging out with the one old lady who’s declared herself his high society grandmother and told him stories of how she used to go to bars to find racist people or Klan members during the Jim Crow era, seduce them, then poison them and get their addresses so a few gangs she was friends with would fuck them up.

Granny Kaliasto is the coolest person ever.

Just as he’s about to finish his last mini rolled crepe, Duke catches sight of one of the few teenagers still in the ballroom. The others, mostly stuck up rich kids no one actually likes, have already left to take over some other part of the museum to gossip until their parents decide it’s time to go home. These two are clearly not part of that crew, what with the girl being very goth and in a poofy, ripped dress, and the boy having already taken his jacket off to keep over his forearm, the top button of his shirt popped open.

They might be cool. He’s hoping they’re cool because he desperately needs some company to keep from dying of boredom while the gala continues on.

Duke walks over to them, going around the side of the ballroom, until he’s close enough to hear them talking.

The boy has his back to Duke, but the girl sees him. She immediately scowls and slaps the boys shoulder, eyes locked on Duke.

“Got another comment about my dress?” she says, voice sharp and acidic.

“Another?” Duke repeats. “I was just bored and wanted to talk to people who were my age. Sorry?”

The boy smacks the girl’s arm, then turns to face Duke. “Sorry about her! Sam is just naturally rude and aggressive. Tonight’s been a bit rough, with this crowd.”

Duke goes to say something, but the words stick in his throat when he sees the boy’s eyes shift from deep blue to an electric green. When he focuses, he can see a faint glow in his chest, the same glow he saw in Phantom.

“Dude? You alright?”

Sam looks him over judgmentally. “I guess it’s nice that I’m not being ogled for once, but don’t do that shit to Danny either.”

“Wait, that’s not what I was doing!” Duke hurries to say, snapped out of his shock. “I just… you look a lot like someone I met recently.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. What was your name? I’m Duke, by the way.”

He holds out a hand, and the boy shakes it with a small smile. “Danny. I don’t think we’ve met. I mean, I’m only here because Sam wouldn’t come to this gala without me, so her parents flew me in.”

“You from out of town?”

“Sam and I are from Illinois. Her parents are traveling around the east coast right now, and they decided to spend a week in Gotham to talk business.”

“I’d ask how it is, but outsiders tend to really hate Gotham, so…”

Sam barks out a sharp laugh. “Oh please, we can handle Gotham. Our town might not be as big and well known as Gotham, but we got our own shit to deal with there.”

“I do get shot at a lot back home,” Danny adds thoughtfully. “And that’s without the ghosts.”

“Woah, what?”

“Up for a bit of a story?” Danny asks, impish grin on his face. By his side, Sam brings a hand up to cover a manic smile, shoulders already shaking with laughter.

This is already better than the grandma gang. Duke leans against the wall, getting settled in, and says, “Always, man. Hit me with it.”

The next hour an a half passes quickly with Sam and Danny dramatically narrating some of the things that have happened in their town. Duke listens, absolutely enraptured, and doesn’t even notice the Waynes file into the ballroom again.

Unfortunately, they bring with them the attention of most of the ballroom, including Bruce and Sam’s parents.

She cuts the current story about Box Ghost short with a heavy sigh. “Hold up, I need to greet the Waynes properly while my parents are watching.” She steps in front of Duke and Danny, holding out a hand with a pained smile.

Tim takes it first, giving a solid shake, and introductions start.

Free from the rules of high society, if only for the moment, Duke leans closer to Danny and whispers to him, “Phantom. Wanna get out of here?”

Danny flinches and turns to him looking panicked. “How did you know?”

“I kinda got magic eyes. I see a lot of things normal humans can’t. Don’t worry about it. I still owe you, so you wanna get out of here?”

He watches as Danny glances around the ballroom, then back to him, clearly weighing out his options. Then he nods and says, “Know where to get a good milkshake around here?”

“Sure do.”

“I guess you’re the one rescuing me this time.”

“Not a rescue,” Duke corrects, and casually picks Danny up over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry, “A kidnapping.”

Danny laughs and waves Sam and all the others goodbye as Duke marches out of the ballroom.

“Don’t bother me for the next two hours!” he calls to the Waynes, “I’m going on a date!”

There are shocked gasps and murmurs all through the crowd. But as he spins around to wave at his shocked and easily amused family, he also catches sight of Granny Kaliasto raising her half full wine glass towards him.

She really is the coolest.

He’s definitely telling her all about this at the next event they attend together. It’ll be nice to have a few stories of his own to share.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #theyre just so casual in this fic #duke gets kidnaps. nbd tbh. saved by a glowing flying guy. nbd. duke clocks dannys identity instantly. nbd.#theyre just chilling. no time to freak out they on a mission to get milkshakes!!#sam is cackling once they leave and people start trying to figure out who they were and how audacious they were in leaving like that #lots of people ask bruce abt duke and his actions. the other siblings are trying so hard to get info abt danny from sam but shes not cracki #dick asks jason to follow them and get info bc this milkshake date is now an urgent mission. jason blocks him.#damian and sam do bond over animal rights and environmentalism later tho. they just share protesting tips and best ways to cause a scene #once again peppering in ocs bc i love making ocs #(<-says the girl literally writing an original superhero novel bc she cant stop making ocs. as if this is news to anyone)#thanks for the prompt!!!

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draagonprincess · 2 years ago

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Seeing 15 year olds making cutesy posts about how to act like your kin type or decorate your room like a den or whatever just... warms my heart in such a tender and specific way. Its the sweetest rebellion in the face of a culture that demands every teenager behave aloof and as palatable to one of three mainstream aesthetics as possible. I wish every kid had such courage and such passion for their individuality. I love it. Every time a young teen makes a kin aesthetic post the world becomes a more delightful, accepting place where kids are allowed to be kids and adults are allowed to have fun

#the dragon writes #otherkin #therian #im only a couple years out of my teens but sometimes it feels like my youth is long extinguished #and i havent seen such brightness for years #i love you therians i love you otherkin i love you enjoying this world we share and the lives we live

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illuminiscentboba · 3 months ago

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[he needs you...tell him he's only human]

k. akaashi comfort fic

tw: akaashi experiencing an depressive episode and he's finally letting you give him the love he deserves during it

check out: are you wearing my merch?!

many things come to mind when akaashi keiji is brought up; for instance, the words helpful, considerate, always has a back up plan for any situation that concerns those he cares about.

but he's only human you remembered thinking last week when you were searching for tissues to clean up the coffee you knocked over, akaashi already a step ahead, having procured the tissues from his bag, asking the waiter for help before you could blink. he really was prepared for everything.

to be loved is to be known and boy does he know you to a T. he knows your habits and silly mannerisms and makes you feel seen and heard. in most of your pictures together he isn't even looking at the camera but you instead. his dark aqua eyes seem to follow you, curious and interested in the framework that you define yourself with.

its cute and charming that he knows what you like and love and remembered even the smallest details and preferences of yours. he is never greedy with his affection but sometimes it worries you.

it worries you when he feels sluggish and his mind becomes cloudy. when he pushes you away as another slump takes over him. you wonder if he just needs his alone time and sometimes thats what he needs but other times he tries to hide himself.

"please don't look at me" he says when you walk in without knocking. normally he doesn't mind but during these slumps he can't take care of himself the way he normally does. he can't help the way he feels judged when you slowly blink at him and the mess of the room. the mess he is. his hair is a mess, its been another day of not brushing his teeth, he already contemplated going back to bed with piles of clothing stacked around the room.

he pushes himself deeper under the blankets as you pad over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "baby, whats wrong?" he sinks deeper under blanket. "i'm a mess." he says miserably.

"so? you've seen how crazy i can look when i'm sick and even when i'm not." he knows that...of course he knows that he knows the cues before your depressive episodes and when to give u space and how to support you with cuddles, eating breakfast together with you on the bed and him in the chair in front of your bed.

but this isn't the same. he's supposed to help you, be considerate and know what to do. taking care of his loved ones is something he's good at, it makes him feel secure, and warm inside to see their smile, to hear their thanks and tell him he's the best.

but he can't be that and when these slumps dictate his week or weeks, he feels the shell of himself, unloveable...like a burden.

so he's been trying to hide it, to hide himself and that part of him from you. but you know, how could you not?

"akaashi i love all of you. the sleepy akaashi, the lively akaashi, the grumpy akaashi, the chatty akaashi, the silent akaashi, the anxious akaashi, the sweet akaashi, the messy akaashi, the witty akaashi." he rolled over now, head and shoulders pooking out of the futon.

you were telling the truth, a fond smile on your lips, the warmth of your words reaching your eyes. you mentioned so many different sides to him, some that he tried to hide and others that he never really thought about before.

"you do?"

he knows you aren't lying but it feels weird, rather uncanny to be appreciated without doing anything. he didn't do a single thing for you in the last few days but yet you've been making surprise breakfast for him, tidying his desk and leaving notes for him, telling him he was cute and handsome. its funny that your words made him feel handsome and better when he was well aware of the state of his appearance.

"of course I do." you stroked his futon covered limbs, itching to hold him. "you don't have to do something for me to prove your worthy of my affection."

his eyes glazed over, a silence falling as he processed your words. you rose from your place on the best, wrapping your arms around him.

so far for most of his life thats how his world would opperate. by doing favors for his parents that they didn't ask for and thus being rained with warm, doing the less desirable work for the team, even relecutantly taking on class duties when people would ask him to, even strangers knew of his innability to say no and how much he cares for others.

his previous partners rejected this side of him, annoyed with his slip ups in their routine, his messy state and coldly didn't accept his attempts to make it up to them, adding to this feeling of worthlessness that would plague him.

every time he went out of his way to make it up to you it was almost like gift exchange. with how much you crossed his mind, he crossed yours and it wasn't long before you were presenting him with stuff he liked, objects that reminded you of him, matching objects, snacks, you name it.

there were less onsided screaming matches at his house, instead hesitant conversation where you two would talk about your feelings and things you liked to be resolved. you asked that he stop trying to make it up whenever he did something wrong and he has, but he still spoils you instead with random affectionate gestures instead.

he let you hold him, fighting the strong urge to struggle out of your reach, does he smell, he feels sticky and gross and he doesn't want you to. your grip tightens, almost as if you've read his mind.

"we're here for each other keiji, i'm here for you on your rough days and your here for me, we're a team. so please don't struggle all by yourself."

right, a team. he forgot that there wasn't supposed to be an imbalance with the roles of teams. every player matters.

"I'll try." he murmurs into your shoulder and you stay like that for a bit, finally letting go to pepper his face in kisses. "i missed my cutie sooo much." why cant he realize that he's still so fine to you, regardless of how messy his appearance gets? that he's still the sweet, cool sexy individual you know, even with the mood drops, when his mental health declines.

"productivity doesn't define you! you define yourself."

"you're only human, baby." you inform him, dodging the hand trying to prevent you from kissing him. as much as he adores you, its summer and maybe staying under his blanket wasn't a good idea with the way the perspiration was sticking to his body.

"y/n please, i really need a shower, i feel disgusting". you let him settle out of the bed, helping him find clean clothes to change into.

"despite that, you're still my super sexy and handsome husband." you remind him, giggling at the blush on his face. even his sulking is cute, you think to yourself as he heads to the washroom, upset that hearing you call him sexy and husband will probably forever rile him up.

note: i might publish the same kind of fic but with reversed pov's? or might make this into a series?

#i needed to hear this #to my pookies overflowing with love that they love to share #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #akaashi drabble #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi angst #haikyuu comfort #akaashi fluff #haikyuu imagines #akaashi x reader #im actually obsessed with him and kemna and all of them...someone help #lumi writes

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