#but...i think it looks really nice? surprisingly?

[fxstpace]

the accidental kiss

summary: one night, when kwon soonyoung is piss-drunk and needs to be rescued by his friends, he accidentally kisses you. now that he’s sober, he can’t stop thinking about doing it again. the problem? he has no idea who you are—but kwon soonyoung is a persistent man, and he is determined to find you.

⇢ pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader ⇢ contains: fluff, comedy, strangers to lovers au, college au, idiots to idiots in love, profanity, alcohol consumption—please let me know if i’ve missed anything! ⇢ word count: 3.7k ⇢ note: happy birthday @etherealyoungk! i love you so much & i hope you like this little fic i wrote for you. i love talking to you and making plans to meet up with you (we will do it. someday) & i hope you have the most wonderful year ahead 💌 thank you to @melonppang for beta reading. set in the same universe as the accidental one-night stand.

The music is way too loud.

It’s the kind that makes your ribs thump and your ears buzz. Someone’s playing DJ in the living room, and judging by the way the bass shakes the floor, they’ve never once heard of volume control. You’re clutching a plastic cup of something vaguely lemon-flavoured—probably spiked, probably a mistake—and trying to figure out how long you need to stay here before leaving wouldn’t be considered rude.

You don’t even know whose house this is.

The only reason you’re here is because Sejeong begged you to come. “Just for a little while,” she’d said, grabbing your arm and giving you those puppy-dog eyes. “I swear it won’t be boring.”

She lied. The moment the two of you walked in, she vanished into the crowd with some guy who complimented her earrings. That was forty minutes ago. You haven’t seen her since.

Now you’re standing at the corner of a too-warm kitchen, next to a sticky counter and a bowl of tortilla chips that someone accidentally spilled beer into. You check your phone, pretending like you have someplace better to be. You don’t. But it’s a nice fantasy.

That’s when, you’ll tell your friends later, someone kissed you.

Out of nowhere, someone barrels into you from the side. Not aggressively—more like a very determined, very wobbly puppy. A slosh of your drink nearly spills onto your shoes. You suck in a sharp breath and look up, ready to mutter a half-hearted It’s fine, but—

“Oh,” he says, blinking down at you.

He’s taller than you. Kind of soft-looking. Flushed cheeks, dark eyes, disheveled hair curling a little at the ends. His lips are parted like he wasn’t expecting you to be there, which is funny, because you’re not exactly trying to hide.

“Hi,” he breathes. “You’re really pretty.”

You stare at him. He smells like peach soju and mint. “Thanks?” you say, cautious.

“I’m Soonyoung,” he tells you, and then leans in like he’s letting you in on a secret. “I was just telling my friend that I saw a UFO earlier. But it could’ve been a drone. I wasn’t wearing my glasses.”

Your brain stalls. “That’s… cool?”

“Are you an alien?” Soonyoung asks seriously.

“What?”

“Because I think you abducted my heart.”

You make a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “Oh, my God.”

“I just said that,” he says proudly, lips stretching into a smile so wide, it makes his eyes crinkle. “And I meant it. I think I love you.”

“You’re definitely drunk.” You blink.

He nods solemnly. “So drunk.”

You don’t know why you’re still talking to him. Maybe because he looks at you like you’re something soft. Like even in his alcohol-hazed brain, he’s trying his best to be gentle. Maybe because he’s clearly harmless and just the right amount of charmingly pathetic. Or maybe because, despite yourself, you’re a little curious to see what he does next.

He sways slightly. You instinctively reach out to steady him, your hand brushing his arm.

Then—without thinking, without warning—he kisses you.

It’s not the best kiss of your life. Not even close. He smells like soju and sweat, and he’s a little off-center. But it’s surprisingly soft. Warm. Hesitant, like he’s afraid you might disappear.

It lasts maybe two seconds.

Soonyoung pulls back, blinking, like he’s not entirely sure what just happened. “Whoa,” he says, kind of dazed. “You taste like… gummy bears. Or maybe that’s me.”

 Your heart thuds. You open your mouth to speak, but—

“Soonyoung!” 

Someone else’s voice cuts in, and a tall guy—broad-shouldered and exasperated—grabs him by the shoulder. 

“Dude,” the newcomer says, dragging Soonyoung backward. “We talked about this. Stop kissing strangers.” He turns to look at you, an apologetic smile on his face. “I’m really sorry about that. When Soonyoung is drunk, he’s—”

“I wasn’t!” Soonyoung protests, eyes still on you. “We had a moment. Right?” He squints at you. “Tell him.”

You don’t say anything. You’re not sure what to say.

“Alright, loverboy. Time to go,” his friend says, hauling him toward the door. You hear him mutter under his breath, “Where the fuck is Wonwoo? Minghao said he’d sent him over an hour ago.”

Soonyoung doesn’t resist his friend’s grip, but as he’s pulled away, he twists to look at you one last time. 

“I’m gonna find you again!” he calls out, grinning like a total idiot. “Don’t fall in love with anyone else!”

He’s gone after that. You stand there, staring at the space he left behind, slightly dazed, slightly amused, and still not entirely sure what just happened.

Someone nudges you with an elbow. “Was that Kwon Soonyoung?”

You turn. It’s a girl you vaguely recognise from a class you had last semester. She’s holding a cup and watching the door like it might burst open again.

“Uh,” you say. “I think so.”

She snorts. “Typical. I’m not even surprised.”

You glance down at your drink. It’s lukewarm now, all the ice cubes that were floating at the top having finally melted. You should probably leave, you think. But you can’t stop replaying it in your head—the way he looked at you, a little glassy-eyed, like you were the only person in the room.

You shake it off and make your way towards the door. It was just a kiss. That’s all it was.

Right?

After Kwon Soonyoung finishes chewing out his best friends—Jeon Wonwoo and his new girlfriend, since they’d conveniently decided to forget to pick him up after they realised their suppressed feelings for each other—all he can think of is you.

But after that, when Wonwoo’s girlfriend leaves, and Soonyoung is sprawled sideways on his couch, legs dangling over the armrest, he brings up The Girl.

“I kissed someone,” he says.

Wonwoo pulls out his laptop and starts working on some assignment. “That’s not exactly new for you.”

“No, but like—I kissed someone. And I think…” Soonyoung trails off, frowning. “I think it meant something.”

“You were drunk.”

“At least I didn’t end up naked in bed with my best friend,” Soonyoung points out and notes, with vicious satisfaction, that Wonwoo’s cheeks turn pink. “But so what if I was drunk?” he continues. “I still remember her. Like, really clearly. She was standing in the kitchen, and there was this lemony drink, and—God, she looked so annoyed at being there, it was kind of hilarious. But then she looked at me, and…”

And what?

You looked at him like you weren’t expecting anything from him. Not even that stupid pick-up line. Not even the kiss. You just let it happen. Let him happen. And then held onto his arm when he almost tripped like he was someone worth steadying.

“I said the alien line,” Soonyoung mumbles.

Wonwoo makes a pained sound. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I did. And I told her I loved her.”

“Oh, my God.”

“But it wasn’t that bad,” Soonyoung insists, even though he’s visibly shrinking into his hoodie like a mortified turtle. “She didn’t slap me or anything. She was just… there. And then I kissed her. And she didn’t pull away.”

“Do you even know her name?” his friend asks.

“No,” Soonyoung says, “but she was drinking from a yellow cup. The lemon one. I think it was hers.”

“That’s not a name.”

“I know.” He sighs. “But I’m gonna find her again. I told her not to fall in love with anyone else.”

Wonwoo snorts. “Romantic. And delusional.”

“Maybe,” Soonyoung agrees, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. A smile tugs at his lips. “But if I see her again, I’m gonna ask her out properly. With flowers or something. Maybe apologise for the alien joke. Maybe not. She kinda laughed.”

He sits up straight, a Plan forming in his mind. It’s haphazard, and sort of all over the place, but Kwon Soonyoung is a determined man. Persistence is both a curse and a blessing—and right now, for Soonyoung, it is the latter.

Somewhere between a hum and a sigh, he murmurs, “She tasted like gummy bears,” and walks out of Wonwoo’s apartment.

You hear it first in passing. Something about a guy. A party. A yellow cup.

You’re not even listening at first. You’re sitting under the overhang by the arts building, sipping your drink and pretending to study. The two girls beside you whisper loud enough for you to overhear, because gossip is gossip, after all, and college is the best time for it.

“—like, actually going around asking people. Told Jisoo she had the wrong yellow cup. Can you imagine?”

The other one snorts. “Imagine being that crazy over someone you met one time.”

Your pen stills. It could be anyone. That’s what you tell yourself. Campus is big; parties are crowded. Yellow cups are practically default. This is nothing.

But then, later that same day, you hear it again—this time in the student union, right outside the coffee shop where you’re waiting for your order. 

“He said she had this look like she was ready to bolt the second someone tried to talk to her,” a guy tells his friend. “Apparently she was drinking some lemon vodka thing.”

You freeze. Fully freeze—because you remember that drink. That sickly sweet vodka thing someone had poured into your cup without asking, and you’d taken one sip, grimaced, and then kept drinking it out of spite. You’d been annoyed about coming to the party, annoyed about your shoes, annoyed about the whole social experiment of pretending to have fun.

That’s when Alien Boy showed up, with the hoodie and the sleepy smile and the godawful pick-up line. The boy you kissed by accident.

You shake the thought out of your head. It’s probably a coincidence. You’re not that girl. You don’t kiss strangers at parties and leave them wandering about campus with nothing but adjectives and a citrus beverage to go by… Do you?

The final straw is the flyer taped to the bulletin board outside the student recreation centre, flapping in the breeze beside a lost water bottle notice and a poster for an improv show.

It reads, in sloppy black marker:

LOOKING FOR A GIRL yellow cup. lemon drink. looks unimpressed by everything. may or may not believe in aliens. if it’s you, please call/text: **********

You stare at it for a full minute. 

It’s handwritten, slanted slightly to the right. There’s no name, just the description. Just the memory of a moment you barely allowed yourself to think about because it felt too much like a glitch in the matrix. A night out of time.

You don’t realise you’ve been holding your breath until someone walks by and bumps into your shoulder.

“Sorry,” they mumble, and keep walking.

You step back from the board like it might burn you. You could take it down, ball it up and pretend you never saw it. Delete the memory of his lips and the way he said, Don’t fall in love with anyone else! like he meant it. But you don’t.

You just stand there for a while, staring at the letters, heart tapping out a strange, staccato rhythm in your chest.

Kwon Soonyoung. You never expected to see him again. You especially didn’t expect him to come looking.

Three days. 

It’s been three whole days since Soonyoung put up the flyer.

He hadn’t expected it to go viral. Or for the music department group chat to roast him in real time for his Sharpie scrawl and poor sense of anonymity. He also didn’t expect his Creative Writing TA to stick a Post-It on his latest assignment that read: Nice character work. This wouldn’t happen to be autobiographical, would it?

But the worst part—the worst part—is the university’s student-run Instagram account posting a story this morning with a picture of his flyer, a crying emoji, and a poll underneath that said:

Would you text him back? 🍋 Yes, lemon soulmate ❌ No, he seems unwell

The “unwell” option is currently winning by 63%.

Soonyoung’s sitting at the quad with a bucket hat pulled down halfway over his face, sunglasses he doesn’t need, and the last bite of a cold bagel in his mouth, when Minghao drops down beside him on the grass.

“You’re trending on all the campus meme pages,” Minghao says, taking a slurp from his iced coffee. “They’ve started calling you The Yellow Cup Guy.”

Soonyoung groans, smacking his forehead against his knees. “I didn’t ask for this attention.”

Minghao raises an eyebrow. “You printed out twenty-six flyers.”

“Yeah, but I used recycled paper!”

“You also went into the psych building and asked if anyone there believed in aliens.”

“I was being thorough!”

Minghao slurps on his coffee again, then pulls out his phone. “Do you want to see the Reddit thread where someone theorised you’re part of a sociology experiment?”

Soonyoung makes a wounded sound, somewhere between a yelp and a squeak. “I’m trying to find her,” he says miserably. “I thought the flyers would be sweet.”

“They are,” Minghao admits. “If you squint and ignore the serial killer vibes.”

Soonyoung flops backward onto the grass, sunglasses falling off his face. “She tasted like gummy bears,” he says to the sky.

“And now you’re known across campus as the alien guy with a gummy bear fetish.”

“Okay, that’s not—” Soonyoung sits up straight. “Wait, is that what they’re saying now?”

Minghao nods solemnly. “Also something about lemon girl being a metaphor for delusion. It’s very literary.”

Soonyoung groans again, tugging his bucket hat lower. But underneath all the embarrassment, all the very justified mockery, he can’t help it—he’s still smiling. A little. Just enough to make Minghao roll his eyes and stand up. “You’re not going to stop, are you?” he asks, dusting grass off his jeans.

“Not a chance,” Soonyoung says, flopping back again. “I told her not to fall in love with anyone else.”

“Very healthy,” Minghao deadpans. “Text me when she inevitably sues you for defamation.”

As Minghao walks away, Soonyoung stares up at the clouds and wonders, not for the first time, if maybe he is just a little bit unwell. But then he thinks of you—of the way you stood there in the corner next to the beer-soaked tortilla chips, looking like you would rather swallow a whole lemon than be there—and closes his eyes and smiles. He places his bucket hat on top of his face to block the sun, and, a little bit tired, decides to take a nap.

You weren’t supposed to take the flyer. 

You meant to just look at it again. Maybe make fun of it in your head a little. Maybe wonder—again—if it was really about you. You were definitely not supposed to peel it off the bulletin board next to the library printers and fold it into your tote bag like it’s a love letter that you’re too embarrassed to keep in plain sight.

Yet. There it is. In your hands. Crumpled and slightly coffee-stained because your lid was loose and life is cruel.

You cross the quad, dodging longboarders and lazy sunbathers, reading the flyer for the twentieth time like the words might rearrange themselves and tell you what to do. Your friends think it’s a campus prank. Sejeong said it’s giving “Wattpad energy.” But your gut—annoyingly, inconveniently���feels otherwise.

“Don’t fall in love with anyone else,” he’d said.

Stupid. Supid and corny and weirdly sincere.

You shake your head, about to shove the flyer deeper into your bag, when a sharp gust of wind launches it straight out of your hands.

“Wait—shit—no—!”

The paper flips and flutters in the air like it’s taunting you. It skates over the grass, dodging a pair of bare feet and a discarded frisbee. You sprint after it, arms flailing, nearly trip over someone’s backpack, and shout a panicked “Sorry!” as you hurtle across the quad.

The flyer lands on someone.

You don’t notice right away—your hair’s in your face, and you’re winded, and someone just yelled “Go long!” too close to your ear—but when you finally spot it, it’s fluttering gently against a stranger’s chest. He’s lying on the grass, bucket hat over his face, like the very image of college student apathy. He’s fast asleep. Or pretending to be. You can’t tell.

You slow down, sheepish now, and hover awkwardly over him.

The flyer is right there, on his chest. One of its corners is tangled in the strap of his messenger bag. Do you… wake him up? Ask him to move? Slink away and pretend none of this ever happened?

You lean down slowly, trying to snag it without disturbing him, but the paper crinkles. He shifts slightly. Breathes out. Doesn’t wake. You stare at him—at the bucket hat, at the sunglasses tucked into his shirt, at the soft curve of his mouth. He looks vaguely familiar, but it’s college; everyone looks vaguely familiar.

Your fingers brush against the edge of the flyer and you ease it free from where it rests on his chest, fold it carefully into your hand, and step back. You don’t look at him again. But the tips of your ears are warm, and your heart won’t stop thudding, and you swear—just as you walk away—he murmurs something in his sleep.

You can’t make out what it is.

TELLING KWON SOONYOUNG THAT YOU’RE THE GIRL HE’S LOOKING FOR

Pros:

Closure

A great story for your grandkids

Directness

He might be just as weirded out

Cons:

Awkwardness overload

Instant regret

He might not remember (please let him remember)

He finds you… and then what?

You stare at your phone, thumb hovering uncertainly over the keyboard. The tiny, blinking cursor mocks you, like it’s daring you to just type something, anything, already.

Your heart is racing, hammering against your ribs in a way that feels almost theatrical. You try to picture it: telling him. The words are clumsy in your head, and even worse when you imagine saying them out loud. You could just leave it, pretend none of this ever happened. You could bury the memory deep, like a time capsule labeled Do Not Open — Ever.

But the thought of it nags at you. Itches under your skin.

You think about the flyer, still tucked into the back pocket of your journal, creased from all the times you’ve taken it out to look at it. You think about the way he smiled—a little lopsided, a little sleepy—right before he kissed you. You think about how ridiculous this all is, how the normal thing would’ve been to move on with your life and let it fade into some fuzzy, alcohol-tinted memory.

Instead, here you are, conducting a pros and cons list like you're weighing a major life decision instead of deciding whether to text a boy you kissed once.

Screw it.

You take a breath, shallow and shaky, and let your fingers fly across the screen before you can talk yourself out of it.

hey, this is going to sound completely insane, but i’m the girl from the flyer. the one you kissed while you were probably drunk off of peach soju. so. hi, i guess?

You stare at the message. Your thumb hovers over the send button. You can practically feel the moment tightening around you, like pulling a slingshot back to its breaking point.

Before you can lose your nerve, you hit send.

The message whooshes away, disappearing into the void of cyberspace where you can no longer yank it back. Your stomach flips violently, your palms suddenly clammy.

You sit there, blinking at the screen, watching the tiny status under your text change from “Sending…” to “Delivered.”

You’re digging through your bag, muttering under your breath about your missing dorm key, when you round the corner of your building at full speed — and slam right into something solid.

Or rather, someone solid.

“Oof—!” The impact sends you sprawling backward, but a pair of hands catches you before you hit the ground. Unfortunately, momentum isn’t on your side, and the next thing you know, you’re both tumbling down in a very ungraceful heap.

There’s a split second where everything feels suspended—the breath knocked clean out of you, your palms splayed against someone’s chest, your face ridiculously close to—

Soonyoung blinks up at you, wide-eyed and startled, and in your panic, you lurch forward—

—and accidentally kiss him.

It's not even a real kiss, more like a clumsy brush of your mouth against his, but it’s enough to freeze time. You jerk back immediately, horror clawing its way up your spine.

“Hi,” Soonyoung says, dazed, still lying on the pavement like you’ve just knocked the soul out of him.

“Hi. What the fuck?” you blurt, scrambling upright.

He sits up slowly, grinning like a lunatic, utterly unbothered. “You’re the girl I’ve been searching for,” he says, almost reverent.

“Um,” you stammer, cheeks flaming. Of course he knows. You were the one who texted him—after forty-seven minutes of pacing your room, after three deleted drafts, after practically giving yourself a heart attack.

“Can I kiss you? Properly, this time?” Soonyoung asks, his voice soft but eager. “I’m not drunk, and we’re not at a party.”

Your brain short-circuits. “How did you even find me?” you manage to say.

He beams, like he’s been dying for you to ask. “Well, I asked my friend Seokmin, because he knows a lot of people, and he asked his girlfriend Jihyo, who asked her roommate Miyeon, who asked her best friend Sana, who asked her boyfriend Jihoon, who told my best friend Wonwoo, and then Wonwoo’s girlfriend told me you might be my best bet.” He shrugs, like this is a perfectly normal chain of events. “She follows you on Instagram.”

You stare at him, completely overwhelmed. It's either adorable or terrifying. Possibly both.

“I—” you begin, but he’s already leaning in closer, his smile turning softer, more tentative.

“So can I?” he asks again, quieter now, a nervous energy buzzing just beneath his words.

You nod helplessly.

This time, when he cups your face in his hands and kisses you, it’s deliberate—not accidental, not hurried—just slow and sure. His mouth moves against yours like he’s been waiting, like he wants to savor it, and the warmth of it floods through you, all the way down to your fingertips.

You kiss him back without thinking, your hands fisting in the front of his hoodie, and he laughs a little into your mouth, giddy and weightless.

When you finally break apart, forehead resting against his, he whispers, “Hi,” again, grinning like an idiot.

You can’t help but laugh. “Hi.”

[bonsubear]

Reader loves Invincible but hates Mark┃Mark/Invincible x Fangirl! Reader┃#3

totally hasn't been a month since I updated this series guys... :p

#1, #2, #3, #?

CW: ooc, cringe prob

WC: 3.5k

Mark wasn’t expecting taking pictures to be so… hard? The idea of taking pictures of himself seemed relatively easy but actually putting it in practice was surprisingly hard.

He took punches from his dad during training that hurt like hell, was thrown around like a rag doll and slammed to the ground that left him sore for weeks against everyday villains and been painted black and blue with bruises that stained his body like he was some sort of volunteer for a body painting class.

No matter what was thrown at him, literally or figuratively, he came back standing tall and strong. Yet, Mark was being bested by a phone camera that could not—no matter how many times he embarrassingly posed in the air—take a good picture of him.

To cut himself some slack, it's tricky to try and take shots when flying in the air by yourself while making it seem like someone else took it.

He tried to set down his phone and put it on a three, five, or ten second timer and make it seem like Invincible was taken off guard by a photo around the city—but it was like there was a curse placed upon him that made every single one of them appear blurry, unappealing, and unattractive.

Mark groaned, laying down on top of a random building, his phone beside him. He dug his hands in his hair, pushing his black locks back as he had been out here taking pictures for hours and still didn't have anything presentable for you.

It's been three days since he got your number, and he hasn't been able to start any conversation with you through text. Mark had hoped to start the perfect conversation with Invincible photos, but that plan seemed to be going up in flames with how he had zero presentable pictures.

Tomorrow is a Monday, and he didn't want to see you without having proved he was an Invincible fan to gain some favorability.

He felt really nervous, anxious, and embarrassed. Mark wanted to present to you what he promised with a silver platter, hearing you light up and praise him with blooming happiness.

It felt so stupid, so dumb but—ugh. He wanted to hear you sing praises towards him, just like how you sing praises to his superhero counterpart all the time.

He would never get riled up or upset about the fact that you would constantly insult and verbally abuse his character every chance you got, but for some reason, he easily gets worked up when his mind would track back to your admiration towards Invincible.

He had this jealousy towards Invincible that he had a hard time coming to terms with. For Pete's sake, Mark was Invincible but every time he imagined you practically drooling over his superhero counterpart in spandex, he wanted to beat himself up.

It was ridiculous. Mark knows he's him, but you don't.

Mark wants to hear you say something nice about him. A praise, a compliment—anything that Mark earned fair and square without the mask. Even a simple "hey, good job I guess!" would suffice.

As long as it comes from you, the most beautiful and gorgeous girl he has ever laid eyes on, he'll be set.

.

.

.

... What.

His body tensed as he immediately sat up from the floor, his face burning with a pink flush as he had taken in the thought that crept inside his mind.

Sure, he wasn't going to deny the fact that you were beautiful—you are! You take care of yourself like crazy with the products you buy and use every time he saw you at school so it's perfectly natural to think you're a very pretty individual—well, even without those he knows that you'll still look amazing!

Mark would be crazy to think you’re not! Hell, if you gave him the chance, he'll kiss the ground you walk on just because of how attractive you are to him!

... What.

His cheeks flushed a deeper pink, edging close to red as his hands flung to hold his face. What was that?! Mark internally screamed as steam was practically emitting from his face because of his embarrassing thoughts.

He felt sick, his stomach doing backflips as a sudden whirl of images of you appeared in his head.

Mark stared and observed you long enough that all angles of you were burned into his memory. Those long moments he looked at you during class was now biting him in the ass, leaving him a redden mess as he tried to calm himself.

That—is definitely not a creepy way to think about a potential new friend, right?

It's nothing weird, he thinks—or more so he tries to convince himself.

He's simply stating the obvious to no one but himself! Perfectly normal thing to do! Mark just really wants to be friends with you because you’re awesome, you’re into nerdy stuff like him and you'll make a perfect potential new candidate for friendship!

Perfectly normal to stare at your number and jot down potential first messages in his notes app to find the perfect one to send to you!

Perfectly normal to rehearse how to talk to you in the mirror for the past three days so that you'll start to see him as a cool guy rather than the guy you hate with a burning passion!

Perfectly normal to search up what other stuff he can buy for you and start putting some money on the side reserved just for you if an opportunity like that ever happens again!

Perfectly... normal... yeah. Normal friend stuff.

"So, this is where you ran off to?" A familiar deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts, causing Mark to jolt. Before standing up, he scrambled to get his phone and put it behind him. "Imagine my surprise when your mom woke me up asking where you were."

"D-Dad! Hheeyy." Mark cringed; his cheeks were still dusted a light pink. "What, uh, what are you doing here?" He squeaked out.

"What are you doing here? Your mom's been looking for you." Nolan raised a brow, looking at his son with curiosity. He was wearing his Invincible suit and was obviously hiding something behind his back.

"N-Nothing! Nothing. I just went out flying for a bit, heh." Mark shrugged his shoulders, trying to remain casual to hide the fact that he had been out here taking pictures of himself for you.

How much time had passed that his dad went out looking for him? It's been a couple of hours sure—but not that long, right?

"Uh-huh." Nolan nodded his head slowly, not convinced at all by the reasoning. With Mark's entire arm hidden by his back, it was clear that his son was hiding something. "I take it that whatever is behind your back is a part of," he paused, raising his hands to do air quotations, "flying?"

"Yup! Exactly!" Mark nodded quickly, toeing around his dad while still shielding his phone behind him like it was some sort of ancient relic. It would be embarrassing if his dad found out what he was actually doing—he would never live it down.

"I'm, uh, going to do some more flying! —so just tell mom I'll be back in a jiff!"

"Have fun with your 'flying'—and whatever your hiding behind there." Nolan let out a dry laugh, watching his son's cheeks flush into a deep shade of red as he stuttered out a reply.

"Behind my—whaaat? I don't know what you’re talking about dad," He raised his free hand to do a circle motion to his head, "I think old age is getting to you—uh, anyway, bye! Gotta go take—I mean, fly! See you at home!" Mark yelped, leaping off the building and taking flight.

Nolan watched the blue and yellow silhouette of his son disappear, zooming past a building with so much speed that he had never seen him have before.

He paused before letting out a deep laugh, shaking his head.

Mark sat at the dinner table. He was helping his mom by folding pieces of square paper into origami swans. It was for leaving a nice touch to the houses that his mom was selling—or something like that.

He didn't really know the whole reason why, listening to his mom absentmindedly as he was busy tapping his foot as his hands mindlessly moved on their own, thinking about you and the photos that he took today.

The recent ones he took before coming home were surprisingly better, but not anything crazy good. They looked so immature, like a baby with wobbly hands took them.

"-rk? Mark?" His mom's voice called out to him, and Mark snapped out of his thoughts. He accidentally ripped the paper origami that he was halfway into making, startled at suddenly hearing his mom’s voice.

"Uh, yeah?” He laughed awkwardly as he stared at the blue paper he just ripped, sheepishly pushing it aside. “Whoops.”

"What are you thinking about? I've been calling your name for five minutes," Debbie laughed, shaking her head as she grabbed the swan origamis that Mark had mindlessly folded. "Thinking about something important?”

He shook his head, his leg jumping up and down.

“Okay. How about someone important?—"

"No!" Mark straightened his back at the mention of 'someone,' an image of you flashing in his mind. His anxious leg stopped bouncing, coming to a halt as he blinked at his mom.

Debbie raised a curious brow at his reaction, his reply to what she had innocently asked being a bit too fast.

Her son cleared his throat, trying to act casually and brush off his odd behavior. "Ha, I mean, no. Nothing important, really."

"Hm." Debbie let out an amused hum, wiggling her eyebrows at her son's contorting face. It was funny, but almost sad how clear his emotions were written on his face. Even though a part of her wanted to find out what was going on with him, she sighed as she decided against it. “Whatever you say, Mark.” She chuckled.

A small silence passed between them, before Mark broke it. "You know, actually, mom I do have sort of a question to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Hypothetically," Mark cleared his throat, gesturing with his hands. "would there be a reason why someone would randomly just hate another person?" He shrugged his shoulders, trying to seem disinterested at the possible answer.

"Hate? That's a strong word. Are you sure hate is the right word in this 'hypothetical' question?"

"Yeah! Like, really hate. Hate to the point," Mark didn't notice the small smile that crept on the corner of his lips, but Debbie certainly did, "where she—they insult you every day and call you a creep and stuff."

Debbie was taken aback at this, blinking before responding. It was obvious that this situation was about him and some other person, specifically a girl with how he fumbled on his words. “Can I have more info about this—“

“Hypothetical—“

“—hypothetical situation?”

Mark squinted, blowing raspberries before speaking again. “Like, this girl, just really hates this guy for some reason even though the guy didn’t really do anything. Or at least, not that he remembers.” He sheepishly elaborated, grabbing another square sheet of paper to continue folding.

“Oh, he must’ve done something alright. No one just hates someone for no reason.”

“But he doesn’t remember doing anything bad!”

“It doesn’t have to be something drastic—it can be something so small that really impacted her.” Debbie explained. “We’ve all disliked a person for the pettiest of reasons that doesn’t really make sense. Something that was so unmemorable to you was so memorable to her, it happens.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, okay, but—wait me? This, this isn’t about me, mom.” He caught her words, his cheeks warming. “It’s a hypothetical question for someone I know at school. Not, pfft, not for me.”

“Sure.” Debbie nodded, a sly smile on her lips. “Not for you.”

“Mhm. Anyway, what do you think the guy should do to get the girl to not, y’know, hate him?” He brought a hand to rub the back of his neck, scratching his nape awkwardly as he inquired.

“Spend a lot of time with her. Even if you have to force some situations.”

“Spend... time with her?” Mark deadpanned; the solution she provided sounded too simple to work. 

Debbie nodded, already seeing the gears turning in his head as he ingested her words. “Just find ways to be constantly around her. Show her you aren’t as bad as a guy that she thought you were from whatever mistake you did.”

Mark hesitated for a moment before speaking, thinking long and hard about the simple wisdom his mom had bestowed on him.

Suddenly, he stood up, knocking his chair backwards as he ran over to the staircase. “Thanks mom! That really, really helps actually!” He smiled, stepping on the stairs. He halted, popping his head around the corner. “But again, the hypothetical situation wasn’t for me—it’s for someone I know from school.”

"Sure it is, I'll believe that when pigs fly!" Debbie sang, wiggling her brows at her son that had a deep flush spread through his face.

"Nice talk, mom!" Mark waved a dismissive hand, running up the stairs to his room.

Argh, it isn’t hard! … Just send it… Send it!

Mark internally screamed at himself; his eyes glued on his phone that was laid flat on its back on the comfort of his bed.

He had been going on a cycle of pacing around the room and staring intently at his phone screen trying to convince himself that sending a message to you wasn’t going to be the end of the world.

But honestly—it might. What if you decide to block him because his first message was weird? Sure, he worked hard on it, but he worked hard on a lot of things yet still screwed it up!

He dug his fingers in his scalp, kneeling in front of the open phone screen that had a chatroom open. The profile picture of the letter of your first name was taunting him, Mark imagining it was sticking its tongue out with how stupid he looked for the past forty-five minutes.

The Vasian had already typed out the message he wanted to send, picking the best one from his notes app. Now, if only he had the strength to just—push the send button!

Mark thought to consult William about this, but he would never live it down. His best friend didn’t need a reason to actually believe that he was into “getting off” at mean girls.

Not that he would ever get off to you in a million years! That would be disrespectful—and indecent! You didn’t deserve to be only used as some sort of finishing material!

Mark Grayson groaned, “Aaahh, what am I thinking?!” He jumped on his best, his phone bouncing. His thoughts suddenly shifted to masturbation rather than sending a text message to kick start his plan—those two didn’t correlate at all!

From his mom’s simple words of wisdom, he realized that she was right.

If he were to force you two to hang out with each other so frequently, you would start not hating him because of how you’ll realize he was a perfect friend for you!

You wouldn’t hate him anymore! Whatever he did to make you hate him so much just—poof! Gone!

… But how is he supposed to make that happen when he can’t even pass the first step of his plan?!

Mark bit his lip, staring up at his ceiling as he fished for his phone that he jumped next to. His fingers grazed over the open screen, accidentally hitting some letters on the keyboard as he tried to grasp for his electronic.

Ping!

His heart froze, the familiar sound of a message sending sounding next to him.

He scrambled to sit up, making his neatly folded bed a mess as he accidentally knocked down one of his pillows to the floor.

He shakily brought his phone to his eyesight, trembling as he saw what he had just done.

Mark Grayson Hey👋🏻 It’s Mark Grayson. You gave me your phone number at the mall 3 days ago. I have the photos of Invincible if you want to take a look 😄 I’ve been busy so forgot to show you😅 z zsl ᴰᵉˡᶦᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ

“Z-Z-S-L?” He read his mistype out loud when his fingers accidentally brushed up against his keyboard. “Who sends Z-Z-S-L?! That wasn’t supposed to be there!” He shouted, embarrassment overriding his entire nervous system.

Should I delete it? No, it’ll only delete on my end—not hers! Fuck, fuck, fuck—

Mark Grayson Hey👋🏻 It’s Mark Grayson. You gave me your phone number at the mall 3 days ago. I have the photos of Invincible if you wanna take a look 😄 I’ve been busy, so forgot to show you😅 z zsl ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

(Y/N) (L/N) oh

(Y/N) (L/N) thats ok ig

(Y/N) (L/N) lemme see

Mark's phone had immediately buzzed three times in only one second after he sent that message, his eyes in shock that you replied so fast. He had expected to wait for a few hours for hours to receive a response, but that seemed to be not the case.

He swallowed thickly, nervous but happy that he got your attention.

Mark Grayson Okay👍🏻 Sending them now🙃 ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

Mark Grayson [5 photo attachments] ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

Mark had only sent you a third of the pictures he had taken today, making sure to choose the best ones.

His back was up against the wall as he had his phone only centimeters away from his face, not blinking so that he would read your reaction the millisecond it seconds.

He subconsciously held his breath, the minutes ticking by so slowly. If he wasn't half viltrumite, he would've probably passed out with how long he was holding his breath for.

(Y/N) (L/N) jsjdjsskk

(Y/N) (L/N) my brain short circuited wtf

(Y/N) (L/N) im legit creaming my pants

(Y/N) (L/N) n u took those ?? thank GOD ur smooth brain didnt mess up those glorious pics

(Y/N) (L/N) hes so fineeeeeeee

Relief crashed over him, his tense muscles relaxing as he let out a giddy laugh. He rolled to his side, his smile reaching his ears as he took a moment to reread your text messages.

Even through text, you were endearing, and it seemed like you were more softer. While you still called him stupid, it was definitely less explosive if you were physically in front of him.

God, he was so happy you liked them.

Mark Grayson Do you believe me that I'm also an Invincible fan now?😁 ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

(Y/N) (L/N) idk wouldnt u like to know weather boy

Mark Grayson ? ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

(Y/N) (L/N) but actually good job n the pics, theyre so up close n personal

(Y/N) (L/N) thx

Mark let out an unimaginable squeal. It sounded inhuman—had he always been able to make a noise like that!? Was it possible to feel this happy and overjoyed over just a few pixels?

He hurriedly replied with a thank you, trying to come off like your small praise towards him wasn't a big deal to him. Which it totally was, but you didn't need to know that.

Mark Grayson Do you want to hangout after school? 🤔 ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

(Y/N) (L/N) tf hell no

(Y/N) (L/N) why would i willingly choose to be seen in public with u

(Y/N) (L/N) i already gave to charity n that was 3 days ago

Mark Grayson Not even if I have more Invincible stuff to show you? 😄 ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

(Y/N) (L/N)keys

Mark Grayson raised his brow. "Keys?" He whispered, tilting his head in confusion.

(Y/N) (L/N) fine wtv, but ur getting in my car so i can swerve in a nearby tree if i have to

(Y/N) (L/N) i know u dont get bitches so its a new experience but

(Y/N) (L/N) dont drool in my car ok creep

(Y/N) (L/N) i'll bill u the cleaning fee if u do

Mark Grayson I won't do that I promise ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

Mark Grayson I'll see you at school tomorrow then! 😊 ᴰᵉˡᶦᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ

Mark Grayson Where do you want to go after school? ᴰᵉˡᶦᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ

The read receipts suddenly turned into delivered, and he pursued his lips in disappointment. Though, his spirits lifted as he reminded himself that he got to successfully get you to hang out with him after school!

While the details of where you guys would be going will be fuzzy since you didn't reply, Mark still took it as a victory!

... Now, he just needs to figure out what Invincible stuff to you show you since he promised it. It couldn't be just more pictures; it had to be something more than that.

Mark sighed—at least he had 24 hours to figure it out.

keys = kill yourself

How I feel updating this fic after a month has passed:

Tag List for All Works: @calicocat-ina-tuxedo

[dewinabsentia]

shutting down summer solstice

hiii this is my first time writing and posting. please be nice<3 title from garamond by arm's length (yes i'm telling you to listen to them) i saw a post about solaris playing dew's guitar and got wrapped up in the idea of her being overwhelmingly fire in her multi elements. dew is an unreliable narrator and panics. 1.4k

thank you @jimothybarnes for being SO kind and encouraging

gorgeous divider by @wrathofrats

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Dew nearly drops his fork. The whole pack is seated around their large dinner table in shocked silence, all eyes on Cumulus.

“I- I can’t go. Not without Copi- Frater.” Cumulus’s voice is tight, like it hurts her to say this as much as it hurts the pack to hear it. “I’m sure Papa Perpetua will be great, but I can’t go.”

Dew looks wildly around the table, gauging everyone’s reactions. Cirrus is staring down at her plate, jaw tensed. The lack of fight proving she knew before the rest of the pack. His chest feels tight in a way that triggers his fight or flight response. 

“So you’re not even going to try? You’re just going to quit?” Clearly, fight winning. He hates the way his voice raises. He hates that this is happening. Why would she leave them? The last tour was great, fantastic even. How can she think staying home is better than being with everyone? Why would she leave after seeing how the pack suffered when Aether- 

“Dew,” Cirrus snaps through gritted teeth before Cumulus can respond herself.

“No,” he mirrors her tone. “This isn’t fair to the rest of us. This should’ve been a pack decision, we- we should’ve had a say,” Dew’s voice wavers pathetically the longer he speaks. He feels Mountain’s hand on his thigh, usually a grounding presence, just makes him tense more. He feels like the room is spinning. 

Cirrus deflates empathetically, already experiencing Dew’s same emotions weeks ago when Cumulus first told her. “It– Ultimately it’s Lus’ decision.” She glances at Cumulus who meets her gaze with tearful eyes. 

“I’m,” Cumulus’ voice cracks, she clears her throat, “I’m sorry. It’s not easy, but I need to stay.” 

It’s been a week since Cumulus broke the news to the pack. They’re two months out from tour. They need a new ghoulette. 

Aurora offered to fill Cumulus’ tour role for the time being. Leaning heavily into her Air element, she picked up on Cumulus’ parts surprisingly well. It’s bittersweet, Aurora flourishing in her new role while Cumulus steps further and further back. She isn’t gone, she’s still in the den and in the practice rooms and at dinner and all around the ministry. Really, nothing has changed about Cumulus’ presence. But the knowledge that the majority of the pack will be leaving without her looms over them all. 

The summoning night is more of a peacocking event for Copia, Frater, to show off to the newly appointed Papa. He’s in his full Papa regalia, not his Frater uniform. Scheduled on a full moon, new black candles ordered, all ghouls requested to be present. None of this is actually necessary, Dew thinks. Phantom and Aurora were summoned on a random night, cheap tealight candles, with only the standing band ghouls present. Dew rolls his eyes as Copia directs them to line the walls of the summoning room. 

Leaning heavy against the wall, arms crossed, Dew knows he’s sulking. At least in Aether’s case it was an emergency, called back to the ministry to be a representative of Copia while he was on tour. He still doesn’t understand Cumulus’ decision, can’t comprehend the willingness to just stay. Mountain nudges Dew lightly with the hand hanging down by his thigh. He sighs, shifting away from Mountain. 

“We’re going to be okay, we’ve done this before,” Mountain’s voice comes soft. 

“I don’t-“ the tightness in his chest returns, but before Dew can fully respond, Copia is addressing the room. 

“Thank you all for coming, I, eh, I know this isn’t the normal summoning routine.” Copia is wringing his hands, the leather gloves squeaking standing out in the usually quiet summoning room. 

It’s dark, it’s always dark in the summoning room. And cold. Dew has never liked being here. The memories, the implications, of every time being in this room, meaning something was changing. Someone new coming in to fill the gap of someone old. He tries not to be bitter towards new summons, he really does, but every replacement hits harder than the last.

“It’s not a replacement,” Aether told him earnestly, “I’m still here, no one is replacing me. I’m just a stay-at-home ghoul now.” He gives Dew a lopsided smile, hoping to ease the pain. Dew looks away, can’t stand to look at Aether knowing they’ll be apart for so long.

“I don’t get why Copia can’t have someone else do the job,” Dew huffs. The more they go back and forth about this, the more he feels the tears fighting their way forward.

“Hey,” Aether gently turns Dew to face him, his voice softening, “I’ll always be here. I’m not leaving you. We’ll just be in different places for a bit, but you always have me and I’ll be waiting right here for you to come home.”

Dew lets out a shaky exhale, forcing away the memories of the night before Phantom’s summoning. He loves the little quint now, he really does, but the initial adjustment period of someone new never gets easier. He’s pulled from those thoughts as the sounds of a papal robe billowing through the door announce the entrance of Papa Perpetua.

“Ah, welcome,” Copia forces a smile. Apparently he’s not too thrilled either at the thought of replacements. “Let us begin.”

Dew focuses on cracks in the black stone floor, counting lines and forming images out of soot marks. He doesn’t know how long Copia explains the ritual for, he doesn’t really care either. He’d rather this be over with sooner rather than later. His attention is pulled back to the present when Perpetua begins lighting the black candles set in a circle on the floor. Copia is watching, almost looming, inspecting every movement of Perpetua. Waiting for a moment of subpar performance to jump in and take over for the new Papa’s first ghoul summoning. For a moment, watching the push and pull between Copia and Perpetua, Dew forgets why they’re actually here. 

Perpetua lights the final candle and takes his place at the head of the summoning circle. Under the candlelight, shadowed by his mask, he looks menacing. Dew can’t help but feel unsettled. He straightens his back, sets his jaw, and decidedly focuses on the flickering of a candle. Perpetua begins the incantations from the dusty tome that Dew is far too familiar with by now. He wishes he didn’t know every syllable by memory. 

With each line read, the flames grow a bit larger. A small breeze sweeps the previously stale room. Something smells like it’s burning, Dew ignores the otherworldly essence of it. The room feels alive as some loose rubble falls from the ceiling. The center of the summoning circle sparks a small flame. It grows in brightness, but not in size. Dew feels a pit in his stomach as the room begins to warm. A dark layer of smoke covers the floor surrounding the center flame, concealing the entirety of the summoning inscriptions. The radiance engulfs the small flame. Dew feels like he’s staring directly into the sun. It hurts. There’s a sudden flash from the growing brightness and everyone in the room startles, shielding themselves from the overwhelming light. 

When the flare settles, in the center of the summoning room, stands a ghoulette. Below her, the floor is singed. She radiates warmth. Dew’s blood runs cold.

“Dewdrop!” 

Copia’s voice is distant as he bolts from the summoning room. From his Papa. From his pack. From his replacement. He doesn’t understand, but what else is there to understand? What other use would they have for a freshly summoned fire ghoul? Was this an elaborate plan to send him back to the pit? Corner him in the summoning room for a quick switch? 

He rounds a corner and the dam breaks. Dew stops running when the sobs shake his whole body. He tucks himself in an alcove to try and steady his panicked breathing. He feels sick. He can’t return to the den, can’t find solace in his pack. Hell, they’d probably drag him right back to the summoning room kicking and screaming. He can’t stay, not like this. 

His head thumps against the wall, a humorless laugh leaving his scratchy throat. Of course this would be his way out. Betrayed by his own pack, his own Papa. He should’ve known his time was limited after a run with two Papas. Third time’s the charm, right? He replaced Ifrit and now he’s meeting his own fate the same way. There would be no need to keep a burnt out fire ghoul around the ministry. 

“Dew!” He hears Mountain’s yell echoing the halls. His stomach drops. He does the only thing he knows how to do.

Dew runs.

[ryewwww]

pls could u write something w john price non-con using his power to manipulate MC, like telling her that he has connections everywhere or smth like that, maybe +tf141 , love and adore ur work❤️❤️!! (English is not my native language, sorry for any mistakes TT)

-> JOHN PRICE?! Say less I love him sm 😩 and thank you, sweet !

-> forgive me, I don’t know much about the military

-> forgive me again bc I know price is not this mean >_<

⚠️: NON CON, manipulation, power imbalance, misogyny, spanking, hair pulling, choking, breeding kink

-> READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION!

You’re a civilian contractor — hired to help manage communications for a military operation linked to TF141.

You’re smart, efficient, and professional

You never thought you’d get an opportunity to work with the military, but the pay was too good to give up

So here you are, staying at the base in your own private suite

So far, things were going pretty smooth

The people were nice and kept you in the loop

The work was alright. Obviously, when there was a high risk situation, it was stressful. But other times, it was breezy.

You weren’t required to really go anywhere and if you were, a team would accompany you

Usually, it’d be the Task Force 141

They were great, friendly and surprisingly chatty

Definitely prioritized your safety over their own

After a few missions, you grew close with the guys, specifically Gaz and Soap because they were closer in age with you

But Simon and John were a bit more closed off

Simon was normally quiet according to Kyle and Johnny but it was unusual for John to be distant

Still, it’s not like he’s required to be your friend so you didn’t read too deep into it

It wasn’t until a few months later that the dynamic started to shift

You played it off as John getting more comfortable with your presence

It starts with little things like a hand on your thigh, rubbing it up and down for reassurance. It was comforting at the moment, but when his fingers neared your inner thighs, you awkwardly pulled away and he smugly smirked in response.

Or when he joined you, Kyle and Johnny for a drink at a bar and started asking some really personal questions like how many partners you’ve had. He also made some snarky, misogynistic comments about how he thinks you’d look better as a house wife with kids and this military life is not for everyone ect ect.

It was all very backhanded and all you could do was awkwardly laugh and be like “ohh noo, I like being independent”

Other times, you noticed things from your suite misplaced or missing

And the only other person that has access to your suite is the captain

But he wouldn’t do that, right? It’s you, you’re crazy because why would the captain invade your privacy like that?

You kept ignoring the red flags, kept blaming yourself till you couldn’t anymore

One night, you’re exhausted — barely functioning after a 14-hour shift.

You shuffle into your suite without thinking, tossing your bag onto the chair.

You don't notice the door easing shut behind you.

The hand clamps over your mouth.

You stiffen, thrashing instinctively, but the arm around your waist is immovable, crushing you back against a solid, muscled chest.

His breath is hot against your ear as he speaks,

"Easy, sweetheart. You'll only make it worse for yourself."

You kick out blindly, but he’s prepared.

One quick shove, and you’re slammed chest-first into the wall.

He presses against you, heavily

His rough palm cups your breast, squeezing, pawing shamelessly as he grinds his hips into your ass.

You cry out under his hand, muffled, helpless.

"Knew you'd be soft," he mutters. "This is where women like you belong."

Tears blur your vision, panic rising like bile, but you can't move, can't breathe, can't think beyond the rough hands roaming your body.

You try to fight. God, you try.

You claw at his arm, your nails breaking against the thick fabric of his jacket.

You stamp your foot against his shin, elbow his side, but it’s like hitting stone.

His chuckle rumbles against your back, low and vicious.

"That’s it, pet. Get it out of your system."

You struggle, digging in your heels, grabbing at doorframes, furniture, anything, but he’s stronger.

In seconds, you're thrown down, face-first into the mattress.

You try to scramble up, but his weight pins you down

You feel the scratch of his beard as he leans in close, his breath hot against your skin, thick with the stink of cigars and whiskey.

"Please... don't," you manage to squeak, your voice shaking so hard it barely comes out.

Your small, pitiful plea earns you nothing — just a slow, cruel grin stretching across his face.

When it happens, you tried your hardest to fight him off.

He ripped your pants down, did little prep before pushing into you

"When he bottoms out, he groans, “fuck, you feel good,"

All you can do is sob when he starts thrusting

Pathetic, broken sounds that are muffled by the mattress as he holds you down by the back of your neck.

You try to make resist, squirm, thrash, anything

But every movement earns you a cruel, bruising slap to your ass or a rough yank of your hair

“Fight and I’ll hurt you more.”

Soon after, you give up. Your arms hurt from being pulled back by him. Your muscles burn. Your throat is raw from sobbing and gasping.

You were exhausted and on the verge of passing out when he finished inside of you.

Price tucks himself away, breathing heavy

You think, well pray that he’ll leave.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he crouches beside the bed again, one large hand roughly grabbing your chin and forcing your glassy, tear-soaked face up to his.

"Listen carefully, love."

His voice is cold now, stripped of even the fake tenderness he sometimes uses.

"You breathe a word of this to anyone, it'll be the last mistake you ever make."

You whimper, trembling, but he keeps going

"You think Kyle or Johnny will believe you? They won't. I'm the fucking Captain. They'll think you're just some desperate little girl who couldn’t handle the pressure."

Then he leans even closer

"You want to lose your job? Your clearance? Everything you've worked for?"

You don't answer. You can't.

But he doesn’t need you to.

"Remember, if I reallllly wanted to," he says casually, "I could make you disappear. Nobody would even know where to start looking."

With that, he left.

From that day, you obviously feared for your safety constantly

The team notices. Of course they do.

Kyle and Johnny especially won't let it go.

"You alright, love?" Kyle asks you one afternoon

"You've been actin' strange, lass," Soap adds, brow furrowed

You want to tell them.

God, you want to.

But you can feel Price's eyes from across the room

And you knew better, so you lie.

You force a brittle smile.

You say, "I'm fine. Just tired."

You try to save yourself.

You file a transfer request

You list every reason you can think of: Need for new experience. Personal reasons. Career growth.

You waited for your transfer to be approved but it never was

It was only when Price cornered you while the others were training, that he slammed a folder of papers in your face

You flinched, heart pounding when your eyes meet his

“Do you enjoy defying me? Because I thought I made myself clear.”

You glance at the papers and it’s your transfer request

[ionlypostmymeemocs]

Okay! So I realized not all people know my TF2 x Clowncore AU. And this is REALLY OLD! Now that's my fault. I should have explained! Sorry!

Here is the AU!

So there was a Blu Medic who really enjoyed his work. One by one, his teammates retired from their jobs, but the Blu Medic didn't because that's how much he loves his work. But surprisingly, the Red Medic from the Red team had retired from his job as well. This means that the Red team needed a new Medic, so Toufort made Blu Medic join the Red team, which he didn't mind. But the Red team didn't like him because he used to work with the Blu team. But he was always loyal to the Red team, and he tried everything so the Red team could feel comfortable with him. But they still hated him.

But one day, the Red team started to be more friendly towards him. He was surprised at first, but he was happy that the Red team finally accepted him. A few hours later, when the respawner wasn't on, the Red team took their plan into action, and they were acting to be nice to the Medic. And when they have trapped him in a corner. They took his life away. When he was a spirit, he didn't move on. He couldn't believe that he had fallen into their trick. They made him feel silly... They made him feel like a clown. Soon, his spirit took on the form of a clown.

Why not... They made him look like a clown. So why not have fun with it? And now...

He is looking for revenge. But of course, he isn't working alone on this. He has helpers who work for him. So far, I called him Clown Medic because I am not creative with names... Yippee!

His very first helpers are three people. A Medic who is a Gothic/Sad Clown, a Medic who is a Mime, and a Fem Scout who was originally to be a circus clown. She doesn't look like one, tho. It's good. I am planning to redesign them all.

The Gothic/Sad Medic name is Woeful. And how he died was because of his own team. He doesn't like to talk about it. He hates it. But his appearance does give a hint of how he died.

The Mine Medic is actually not a human at all. And to be honest... no one knows where he came from. He just appeared. He was found by Clown Medic, who took him in. He is actually the first person who joined Clown Medic's team. And he borderline fell in love with Clown Medic. Anyway, let's talk about his powers. Would you believe me that he uses his imagination as a weapon? For example, he can imagine an invisible box. At first, you won't believe him, and so you might try walking away, but you'll soon be met with a wall that you can't see. Soon, you'll realize that he got you stuck in an invisible box. Another example is that he can make a finger gun, and when he triggers it, you'll die from a bullet that you can't see. He goes by the name "Imitator."

The third one is the Fem Scout. She is actually fully alive! She is a human. She goes by the name Pearl. She also has rollerskates that help to get to her victims faster. She was taken in by Clown Medic when he found her in the rain all alone. I was also planning to make her and Woeful be in a romantic relationship. But now I am like... Nah... I do like MedicScout ship... But now I don't see them in a relationship. I think I am gonna make her look up to Woeful as the older Emo brother that she always wanted. Lol.

So yeah! They are all looking for revenge and want to kill their own teams!

Here are their old designs!

This is Clown Medic and his weapons

Here is Imitator

Here is Woeful

And lastly, here is Pearl

Ugh... Omg... I need redesign ideas... UGH!!!

[kolomo]

@animangacreators challenge 28: winter 2024 ♡ ↳ yubisaki to renren

[moonchild-in-blue]

Oh mother, tell your children Not to do what I have done Spend your lives in sin and misery In the house of The Rising Sun

[s2pdoktopus]

Judgemental kids

And Petrushka

[bookshelf-in-progress]

It's so nice to have this tiny little selection of WIPs to prioritize. Really helps me to keep my focus where it should be.

Wait, what's this?

IT'S A LONG-ABANDONED WIP WITH A STEEL CHAIR!!

[dootznbootz]

...It's kind of wild when the terf that you got into a fight with and had to write an essay on "Why violence is wrong" back in high school now works at the pharmacy where you get your medication from...

[seilon]

one of my number one pieces of advice for transmascs starting t or who want to start t is WASH YOUR FACE. when you wake up and when you go to bed. get a decent acne-preventing facial cleanser and an oil-free moisturizer or whatever works for you and have a routine– preferably before going on t so you’re already used to it. my doctor was really surprised that I hadnt gotten much acne since starting t (almost 2 years now) and though it’s also partly genetics, I know for a Fact based on how quickly my face gets oily now that it’d be infinitely worse if not for getting used to washing my face more often/thoroughly. remember. yes this is like Puberty 2 BUT you have the fuckin heads up this time and can plan accordingly and that makes a BIG difference

[birbfeeder2artisticboogaloo]

imw atcing this film about an autistic lil boy and his mum just said 'can't u be normal for just one second' and i

im not ok with that actually??? these parents are. not great

overall, NOT what i expected of a film called 'come play' 😔

[offthewall1979]

i'm judging everyone, especially self proclaimed mj fans, who says the 2nd act Thriller staging was amazing in mj the musical. i was pleasantly surprised that the first act only had a snippet of Thriller within a medley (which btw WBSS was great). that was nice. we all know Thriller, so referencing it almost in passing like that felt like a nice nod and good use of time. well that got completely undone by the 2nd act. which i thought was in horrible taste. why are we dragging this legend's corpse around like this. they thought they did something really significant with the themes there. they thought they came up with some artsy excuse to (over)use Thriller. 1. it was incoherent 2. even if you can justify it, i don't care, i thought it was way too dark (in a serious, unfun way) and disrespectful to michael

[vamptastic]

It's kinda hard to tell bc I haven't really been out and about much but I do think I'm now at the point where trying to pass as a cis woman is a bit harder than trying to pass as a man. Which is kind of annoying because passing as man is still not super easy. Now if I want to go to the store I have to put on a binder to avoid being hatecrimed instead of only doing so in situations where I actually care what people think of me. But it's nice seeing that passing as male is more within reach and that in a few years and post-top surgery it won't be quite so insurmountable.

[telephoniii]

REALLY…HIM?

☆彡 in which professor trein judges your relationship with the NRC boys

NRC boys x Reader (minus Ortho)

Word Counter: 3K

Warnings: Reader is Prefect, Trein is your father figure, established relationship, possible OOC

A/N: life’s getting pretty hectic so i’m sorry if my upload schedule slows down. i hope you enjoy :>

ace trappola

Can’t say he’s surprised, just disappointed. It makes sense; he was one of your first friends. However, that doesn’t make him any less troublesome. Despite being a first-year, Ace is one of the biggest slackers and troublemakers on campus— much to Trein’s dismay. His main worry is that Ace will poorly influence you. He’s already seeing it with the two of you getting a crazy amount of detentions and scoldings for unthinkable reasons. You’ve got it rough already being from another world, you don’t need a devil on your shoulder convincing you to get into all kinds of trouble. It’s a real shame said devil is your boyfriend. He’ll allow the relationship and all will seem swell. Little do you know that he pulled Ace aside and had a long chat.

deuce spade

A fine pick; Trein is neither severely impressed nor disappointed. He doesn’t think Deuce is too bad, but he believes you could do better. Deuce will need to somehow prove himself to Trein. On the outside, Trein looks like he absolutely hates his guts. His eyes are always staring at Deuce with this sharp look and it gets the card soldier real nervous real fast. In reality, it’s just Trein keeping a closer eye on him + his RBF. He’s relatively neutral on the first year, yet Deuce is fully convinced that his professor wants to set him on fire.

cater diamond

Trein is very annoyed with your choice. He doesn’t like Cater’s social media addiction and would much rather have you hit the books than scrolling through Magicam. Not to mention, he feels as though something about Cater’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a facade, and doesn’t trust him around you. Cater finds Trein scary, but he’s not as intimidated as Deuce. As he does with Ace, Trein takes Cater to have a talk, and—surprisingly— his opinions on the third year improve. He doesn’t fully like him, but he’ll tolerate Cater more so than beforehand. Cater also offers to help Trein make a social media account; it’s cute yet chaotic all the same watching them bond.

trey clover

Before Trein can form a solid thought on Trey, the vice housewarden is subtly trying to win his favor. Trey knows how about his father-like connection to you and immediately shapes up. He gifts Trein different pastries and learns which ones he’s partial to. What really wins the professor over is when Trey starts volunteering to help clean his classroom after class. Trein won’t even know the two of you are already together and he’ll make comments around you like, “That Clover boy is real nice…” Needless to say, Trein approves of Trey long before he finds out you both are in a relationship.

riddle rosehearts

Trein immediately scowls when he hears the news of your relationship. You’d think he’d approve due to Riddle’s intellect and dutiful behavior. Admittedly, Trein does like that about Riddle. But he despises the boy’s bursts of anger, finding them childish and unfitting for a future mage. He’s seen the housewarden go berserk on one too many students and doesn’t trust he won’t do the same to you. Trein doesn’t want you walking on eggshells around your own partner. This is another one who’ll have to prove themselves to Trein. Riddle will be upset when he hears of Trein’s low opinion of him, but gets a surge of motivation to convince him otherwise. You’ll find Riddle working even harder on his studies than before you didn’t even think that was possible in hopes of gaining Trein’s favor. He’ll eventually get it. I imagine that Riddle does some small, heroic deed for you that really shows his love, and Trein just so happens to be passing by and sees it. Once your unofficial official father in Twisted Wonderland gets along with Riddle, expect to be nagged about missing assignments and homework a WHOLE LOT.

jack howl

Similar to Trey, he immediately knows about your bond with Trein. Instead of trying to win over the professor, Jack takes a more blunt approach. He goes straight to his desk after class and tells him about your relationship, being upfront about his feelings towards you. Trein respects it. He thinks that Jack has more guts than most on campus and trusts him to protect you. He’s quite supportive of the relationship, acting as a mentor for the both of you. You can catch him watching the two of you with a tiny smile, murmuring something along the lines of, “Young love.” The two of you remind him of his own marriage with his late wife. It makes him sentimental in a way.

ruggie bucchi

A BIG 180 FROM JACK. Trein thinks this guy is sleazy. Ruggie couldn’t care less in the beginning, finding it funny to practically hang off your shoulder while Trein stared daggers into him. Then it started to seep in that it may or may not be important to get Trein’s approval for a long-term relationship with you. That’s when he gets his act together and completely starts sucking up to Trein. He’ll help out with paperwork, errands, cleaning up, etc! All for free! much to his dismay All Ruggie asks for in return is Trein’s support for your relationship. He catches Trein by surprise with how well his work ethic is. The lengths the hyena goes to for you ends up leaving the professor impressed.

leona kingscholar

Professor Trein is both surprised and disappointed. Now how did this happen? He didn't think Kingscholar was capable of being nice to anyone, let alone get into a whole relationship. Well, he bugs you to tell your boyfriend to start showing up to class. He’s not exactly happy with you dating a huge slacker like him, but Trein knows that Leona is a smart boy. Brash and not his first pick, sure, but he wouldn’t play with your heart or rope you into anything stupid. He trusts Kingscholar to protect you. But if he starts seeing you begin to skip class— which is going to happen, Leona’s going to make you do it at least once— he’ll pull YOU aside and give you an earful. Tough love, unfortunately.

floyd leech

Hell no. All the red blaring flags. Now why would you go and do that? Really? Out of EVERYONE? You bet your bottoms Trein is actively speaking out against your relationship every single time he sees you. He doesn't even want to try to talk to Floyd. Trein is convinced you are addicted to getting in trouble and lets out the biggest old man sigh. Is there any way Floyd can win the professor’s favor? Probably not. And if there was a way, would Floyd even do it? Big fat no. Floyd thinks it is hilarious that Professor Trein disapproves, upping his affections around him with that toothy grin of his. And if you guys have a class together that Trein teaches? Chaos. Expect a lot of paper balls to be thrown at you.

jade leech

“Are you okay??” Is the first thing Trein asks when you tell him you and Jade are in a relationship. Doesn't exactly trust the boy, but Jade tends to behave around him. The professor has always seen him being picture-perfect whenever he’s around which is 100% suspicious, but Trein doesn't have any solid reasons to disapprove. Jade, like his brother, finds the whole situation very amusing. He’s always figuring out new ways to appear like the ‘ideal boyfriend’ to Trein. If he ever talks to the professor he’ll slip in a comment like, “I never disappoint, trust me” and it makes Trein distrust him even more.

azul ashengrotto

Now what bet did you lose for this to have happened? At least Ashengrotto is a star student, you need to hang out around more of those in his opinion. After confirming that, “No, no bet was lost,” and “No, he’s not paying for my love,” Trein was pretty alright with it. The Monstro Lounge is a student-ran organization, it's clear from that the young boy is capable and responsible. He just keeps a very, very close eye on you two. The last thing Trein wants is for Azul to take advantage of you since— knowing him— he seems like the type to do so. Expect frequent questions of “How’s your relationship going?” and “He’s treating you right, right?” Azul is going to get asked to stay after class to talk. Trein then proceeds to threaten lecture him on how to properly treat your lover. He just wants to make sure you don't get wrapped up in one of those contracts he’s heard about. Azul has quite the track record.

kalim al asim

Automatically assumes you’re dating him for the money and begins to ramble about how you should marry for love. Tells you about his late wife and how much he loved her— it is so sweet I'm actually crying. That's the kind of love he wants you to have. You’ve got to reassure him that, “Yes, my certified father figure, I do love him very much and I’m not just in it for the money.” After that talk, he finds the relationship sweet but kind of concerning. Kalim is a nice boy but severely naive and, frankly, incompetent. Trein starts to go a little harder on Kalim in class, not that he was going easy anyway. He scrutinizes the essays he turns in and chastises him for missing an assignment. As he watches you kiss Kalim on the cheek after getting an A, Trein can only sigh and think, “He’s lucky he’s rich.”

jamil viper

Trein’s pretty okay with him. He’s a level-headed guy with passable grades and the title of a vice housewarden. However, the professor did hear about his Overblot and does think that there's more beneath the surface. He doesn't judge him for his Overblot, no. But Trein does keep a closer eye on him to make sure he isn't scheming anything involving you. The professor also tries to push him to do better academically. He’s heard from you about how smart Jamil truly is and can see his potential, so he tries to get him to stop holding back. Jamil is a little appreciative of it and respects Trein as your father figure, but still isn't a fan of sticking out. Nor does he plan on giving into Trein’s attempts.

epel felmier

Is fine with the relationship at first. He was polite, soft-spoken, and a part of Pomfiore. Most students belonging to that dorm are pompous, but respectful nonetheless. Then Epel’s true nature comes out and Trein is constantly reprimanding him for horseplay. It's kinda funny how surprised Trein is by Epel’s country toughness. The professor definitely had his suspicions— nobody at NRC is innocent, he’s learned every student here has some sort of dark side— but he definitely wouldn't have expected this. A part of Trein actually prefers him like this. You are dating someone with a backbone who will defend you. He encourages Epel to be himself around him, promising a judgment-free area. They get along pretty well surprisingly, with Trein being a sort of mentor to him. Overall, very sweet and Trein approves.

rook hunt

In the most blunt way possible, Trein tells you, “Your boyfriend weirds me out.” He thinks Rook is an oddball for sure. No way around it. Is half convinced Rook is stalking him. Because he is. When you explained to your boyfriend about the bond you had with Professor Trein, he got way too intrigued and ended up ‘watching’ Trein like he does to Leona. It's not until the professor makes a passing comment about being paranoid that he’s being watched that you realized, “Oh shit my boyfriends stalking you.” You don't say that to him— you don't want Rook getting in trouble. So you settle on having a really long talk with Rook about it who reassures you he’d never disturb your father figure or the absolutely beautiful bond between the two of you. He still worries you sometimes when he goes missing and randomly reappears by walking out of Trein’s classroom.

vil schoenheit

Trein worries that Vil won’t make the time for you. He’s aware that Schoenheit is a busy boy as he’s missed his class plentiful in the past. He’ll make Vil stay after class for a little to talk to him about it, giving him a fatherly warning about being ready to fully commit to a relationship and the time it takes to manage one. Vil is, admittedly, insulted that Trein doubts his ability to wholeheartedly love you but takes it in stride. He sees this as a sign to up his game in the romance department and properly does so, dedicating more time to pampering you. The professor expresses his concerns to his coworker, Crewel, who talks his ear off about how much of a “good pup” Vil is and that he won't disappoint. Trein can’t help but agree when he spots you walking into class looking more freshened with slight makeup on and a new hair-do that Vil definitely did for you.

idia shroud

Once you break the news to Trein, he immediately asks to meet with Idia one-on-one. The blue-haired student rarely shows up to class! And that iPad isn't going to cut it forever! He needs to be able to size him up in person. Idia, naturally, is scared to death. At first, he immediately declines, insisting that they don't really need to meet up, the whole idea is stupid, and it’ll be fine if he stays right there in his room. Then you sit down with him and tell him how important Trein is to you and… sigh You landed a natural 20 on the dice of persuasion. Idia can’t believe he's doing this. You’re beside him the whole time as he stutters in front of Trein. Is Trein impressed? No, not at all. Yet your confidence in the Shroud and constant praise is reassuring. The professor’s going to make you force Idia into showing up in person in class. His attendance rivals Leona's.

sebek zigvolt

Doesn't really care for Sebek despite the first year's desperate attempts at trying to impress him. Sebek lost him after he started talking about Malleus when Trein asked about you. Ever since then, it’s just been him trying to win him back to no prevail. Kinda sad to watch. He’ll be the biggest gentleman ever: rushing to doors to open them for Trein, scrubbing his whole classroom for him from top to bottom, and yelling at other students to be quiet— though he was pretty much doing that before you two even got together. But every time Sebek gets close to winning the professor’s favor, he ends up going on a tangent about how amazing his liege is, and we're back at square one. You’ve got to rub him on the back and kiss him on the cheek while telling him, “Trein will come around one day!” Even if that day never comes.

silver

Not a fan. He’s witnessed Silver fall asleep in his class one too many times and thinks it's disrespectful. Once you tell Silver, he’s upset as it's not exactly something he can change, but will put in extra effort not only in Trein’s class but in all his classes. He studies with you beside him so you can prevent him from falling asleep when you see him get all drowsy-eyed. Trein immediately takes note of Silver’s hard work and grit as the boy passes his class with flying colors while asking if there’s anything he could do to help him after hours. It's only when he hears from his fellow teachers that Silver has been doing exceptionally well is he actually impressed. Afterwards, Trein will start being more understanding of Silver’s constant sleeping. He won't be any less strict, but he won’t lay into him for it as hard as before since learning it's out of Silver’s control. Trein thinks rather positively of your relationship, comparing it to the ones in the fairytales.

lilia vanrouge

A bit disturbed, to say the least. Lilia is older than him after all. Trein tried to keep a close eye on the two of you, but Lilia always caught him and pursued a staring match. Trein was always the first to look away. Lilia finds it entertaining. He tries to play tiny tricks on the professor, but you stop him at the very last minute. You sit down and try to explain that you deeply care about Trein and, by extension, what Trein thinks of him. Lilia proceeded to suggest that he brings Trein some cookies to win him over to which you immediately say no. Honestly, I don’t see Trein really ever warming up to Lilia. He just pretends the old bat doesn't exist and isn't your boyfriend. Lilia finds that incredibly funny while you're dying inside.

malleus draconia

The fact you were able to get close to the Draconia is an impressive feat to Trein. However, future ruler of Briar Valley or not, he intends to make sure that Malleus treats you right. Right when you tell Malleus that Trein is basically your father, the fae goes straight to the professor, confesses to him about your relationship, and swears to take good care of you with this ominous tone. Trein isn’t very fond of Malleus at first, struggling to decipher whether or not that introduction was genuine. It isn't until you go to him after class, gushing about the late-night walk you went on with Malleus yesterday and shoving cute little polaroid photos in his face does Trein begin to trust the fae. He makes sure to scold you for not being asleep at that time, yes, but he stares at one of the photographs for way too long, imagining you and Malleus as him and his late wife for a moment. A small smile appears on his face. However, he can’t help but think that the two of you are down a similar path; the happiest marriage ever, kids, and one lover outliving the other. A tragedy, but he’ll let you enjoy it while it lasts just like he did. As long as you’re happy.

[apatheticsunday]

Apprentice of the Butler

AKA "Alfred Pennyworth hires an interim butler while he recuperates from a Rogue attack. Who better than adoption bait Danny Fenton?" prompt!!

Okay, so imagine Danny moves to Gotham to pursue astrophysics at Gotham-U but he's having a surprisingly difficult time keeping a job. Every time he gets hired, the place gets burned down or blown up by Rogues; it's like he's catnip for trouble. Somehow, he's always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And Alfred Pennyworth also happens to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He's at the Gotham Market Co-op, where Danny's been recently hired, and suddenly it's gassed by Scarecrow's Fear Toxin. All the employees and customers scramble to put on their gas masks, but Danny's new enough that he has no idea what's happening. He's suddenly seeing Fright Knight, Dark Pariah, and the GIW. So, he Goes Ghost, defeats all of Scarecrow's goonies, and saves the day! If only his boss would think so, too.

Uh, no. Apparently Danny's now on a Wanted List as an undocumented meta?? And his boss can't be investigated by the GCPD (he's, like, four years behind on taxes and has been dodging the IRS for longer), so he regretfully has to let Danny go. But, hey! Maybe if he becomes a documented meta, he can get hired back. Except Danny can't because the GIW can access the meta registration database and he'll be found out faster than he can leave Gotham.

So, Danny's fired again.

And Alfred "Pride & Honor" Pennyworth?? He's not gonna let the child who saved him (because Scarecrow absolutely was going to snatch the Wayne's butler, who better to take hostage than a billionaire's publicly beloved Father Figure??) possibly become homeless. It's clear the kid is a college student and is barely scraping by, probably paying way too much for room and board at Gotham-U. And... maybe his wrist hurts a bit from a fall. He's older now, it's not impossible that he'd get a sprain or a broken bone. (Plus, Alfred knows the look. The same one as Dick, Jason, Tim, even Bruce. There's an immense grief in those small shoulders, fear and loneliness.)

Cue Alfred hiring Danny on as an interim butler while he recuperates (oh, he's terribly injured, thank you so much for helping me, my boy-). And Danny can't say no. I mean, this old man got injured during the Rogue attack he was apart of! And he's asking for help! And it's also nice to have some money. And a bed and... oh, God, he's working for a billionaire frootloop. Uh-oh.

(Alfred absolutely doesn't tell Bruce about his new son apprentice. It's worth it to see Bruce's eyes glaze over as sees a black-haired teenager standing in the kitchen with Alfred, then doing a double take when he realizes it isn't Jason. And the others are banned from the kitchen, so who is this child in his house?? It's not Kon or Jon either??)

Meanwhile, Danny is actually having a great time with Mr. Pennyworth!! The older man is kind, soft-spoken, and really knows his stuff. Danny really enjoys learning how to cook, especially because none of the food comes alive to fight him. Eventually the Batfam just become used to seeing Danny in the kitchens, gardens, around the house with Alfred. He's a cute kid, always smiling and talking about his college classes. He has effortless sarcastic banter with both Damian and Jason, bonds with Tim about some kind of difficult mechanical mathematics or something, trades dad jokes with Dick. He even manages to win over Cass, Steph, Duke, and Babs.

The only one Danny doesn't truly seem to like is Bruce Wayne, although he never outright disrespects him, since he pays the bills and Danny's midwestern manners kick in. Bruce is confused and very concerned because why is this kid literally glaring daggers at him all the time?? Is he going to poison Bruce's coffee?? Danny's just trying to figure out if Bruce Wayne is a "collects vintage dentures" or "keeps teenagers locked in his basement" type of billionaire frootloop. (He'd kinda prefer the kidnapping, Danny does not want to go looking for a wine cellar and find an entire basement of old teeth.)

Bonus if Bruce tries to subtly win the boy over and Danny's just like, squinting at him, white-knuckling a frying pan and muttering, "That's exactly what someone who collects teeth would say..."