#he’s actually terrifying because his eyes are green

[laurrelise]

no one:

nobody at all:

not one single human being:

people with green eyes:

[that-squishy-robot]

I’ve been thinking to much about a modern AU where Grogu is 15 instead of a baby. Luke is a cop and Din is (REDACTED)(literally no one knows what he does. ) or maybe he’s a fire fighter.

Grogu gets arrested because he took Din’s motor cycle out for a test drive and slightly wrecks it. (It’s actually his, but he can’t have until he’s 18).

Luke picks him up and is waiting for him at the police station. He’s there like wow, this kid is literally me when I was his age. But Luke was that way because his father is the police chief, and he was always striving to keep up with him. So hey, maybe Grogu needs someone another parental figure in his life, and Luke tries to bond with him in hopes it keeps the kid out of trouble.

But Grogu is just “What? No. My dad is great. I fucking love my dad.” And “My dad is going to come pick me up, and he’s going to be so disappointed in me. He’ll tell me he’s happy I’m ok, and that he’s disappointed in me. Then he’s going to give me the look, and I’m going to cry…. Then he’s going to call uncle Boba and he’ll be disappointed to.”

When Din gets their to pick him up after breaking several traffic laws in a panic, he looks terrifying. Luke is concerned for Grogu’s safety because this guy looks like he could be in the Mafia. He’s not… probably anyway. But he bee lines straight for Grogu and hugs him. He was so worried he wasn’t even speaking English for at least 3 minutes.

Luke falls head over heels in a second.

[the-sunflower-room]

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader 

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-” Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs. 

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

“If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest. 

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind. 

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

[deadsetobsessions]

“Did this place pick up a ghost when I was dead or something?”

Tim whipped his head towards Jason, who looked mildly perturbed.

“You too?!” Tim demanded.

“What?”

“The ghost! I kept thinking it was a hallucination, you know? But even when I laid off of the caffeine, there’d be a fucking shadow at the edge of my vision! At night! You saw it too, right?” Tim rambled, increasingly agitated. “It even moves the fucking coffee mugs! I know where I left my favorite mug, and it sure as hell wasn’t in the sink!”

Jason blinked at him, face morphing into concern.

“Replacement, when was the last time you got some sleep?”

Tim inhaled. “Jason, I swear to god I will replace all of the shampoo in your twenty six safe houses with glitter glue if you don’t tell me whether you saw it or not.”

Jason nodded immediately. In his defense, Tim grew up to be a scary motherfucker. Diabolical little shit would have been a fucking terrifying villain.

“I knew it.”

——

Danny hummed. Tim was going to freak when he found his cowl three inches to the left.

He merrily avoided all of the set up cameras by simply going invisible and intangible, save for his arms that he uses to sweep the cowl to the side.

He could hear the static on the cameras. Danny grinned. Operation Gaslight, Ghostkeep, Girlboss is on.

——

“Tim-” Dick started, only to be cut short by Tim whirling around and jabbing a painful finger into his chest.

“You owe me this, for that Arkham comment when B went missing.”

Dick raised his hands in surrender, guilt flaring.

“Drake, what kind of pointless scheme are you getting us in, now?”

“Not now, demon brat.” Jason elbows the kid. “Just go along with it.”

“Look.”

“Well. I guess we were right, yeah, Tim?” Duke muttered, eyeing the moved cowl. “My ghost-sight isn’t seeing anything. Not even wind movement.”

“What’s going on, boys?”

“B, there’s a ghost in the manor.”

“He’s freaking out because it moved his coffee mug like three times.” Steph chimed in.

——

“Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you seen anything weird, lately?”

Danny tilted his head. “No…?”

“Not even in the house?” Jason asked.

“Shadows? Anything?” Dick asked, eye bags prominent on the normally exuberant man. Danny snickered inwardly. They’ve been up for three days trying to “catch” the ghost.

“Uh. I mean the floorboards creak sometimes? But in terms of shadows… I think I saw them outside? Kind of looked like Batman, actually. But my eyesight gets bad at night. Why?”

Danny could see in the dark just fine.

“Nothing! Let me know if you see anything, okay?”

“Uh. Sure? Maybe you guys should… get some sleep?”

“Uh-huh.”

The bats file out of his room.

——

Danny locked glowing green eyes with Tim and Dick. He did some quick thinking and contorted his ectoplasm into something more grotesque.

“Kkkhggggghkkkkeeee!!!” He screeched.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” The two of them screamed, both bolting and throwing things at him. It was impressive how fast they backpedaled.

“That was close,” Danny muttered. He quickly scribbled on Damian’s whiteboard with conspiracy theories and dipped before the rest of the bats came thundering.

He fell into a light sleep just as Stephanie checked up on him, work done.

[tititilani]

I can't stop thinking about if Simon had taken Edwin's offer

Like Charles finds Edwin in the hallway as ever but this time there's another boy there too, cowering against the wall next to him. Maybe the dollhead spider doesn't care about Simon, too busy focusing on its favorite target, so Charles is left standing in the hallway with Simon when Edwin is taken.

They get out of hell, but Edwin doesn't confess due to Simon hovering behind his elbow. He doesn't want to confess his emotions in front of his killer, who he probably hasn't even properly figured out how he's feeling towards yet.

The Night Nurse is pissed they came out with an extra soul but Niko's same loophole still applies and Simon stays.

"This is Simon," Edwin says when it's all said and done, finally introducing the boy that's been hiding behind him since the door closed. "He was a...classmate of mine."

"He saved me," Simon says, looking up at Edwin moony-eyed and Charles knows that look and something settles heavy in his stomach.

"Glad to have ya, mate," he tells him even though the words taste sour. This other boy knew Edwin when he was alive, the thought is slightly terrifying to him.

Simon settles in fine with the agency even if the agency feels a little crowded now with five people in it but he continues to moon over Edwin and Edwin just...never tells anyone how they actually knew each other. He reasons it just doesn't matter, that he can't find the right time, whatever.

Charles never really warms up to him, though he tries to hide it, but he sees the looks Simon gives Edwin, a soppy smitten look that is somehow worse than anything Monty or the Cat King ever tried with Edwin because of all of them, Simon arguably knows the most about like Edwardian courting. That, like Edwin, Simon has also survived hell. Charles hates the idea that someone could potentially understand Edwin more than he does.

He hates it so much that nothing further happens between him and Crystal because the idea of Edwin being left alone with Simon bothers him so much. He sees Simon adjusting Edwin's collar one (1) time and it makes him feel sick.

And then there's the fortune-teller.

They only go to her sometimes for cases because she never fails to freak Charles out but her prophecies tend to be accurate like 60% of the time which is pretty good for a fortune teller. She looks at the two of them at the end, because it is just the two of them for once, and then looks just at Edwin.

"How kind you are," she says, the words a compliment but the tone snide. "To house your killer. Pray tell it doesn't come back to you."

"What." Charles says. "The fuck."

Charles is furious, of course, and it takes Edwin a long time to talk him out of smashing Simon's face in with the new cricket bat.

"He's like me," he insists in that quiet but firm voice. Charles wants to scream that Simon is nothing like Edwin - that he doesn't have a fraction of Edwin's kindness or pissiness, that his blue eyes are not nearly as beautiful as Edwin's green - but before he can even open his mouth, Edwin continues. "He...He likes boys, Charles. He likes me."

Oh. Oh.

Charles stares at Edwin who is looking back at him, trying and failing to hide the fact he's terrified, and Charles doesn't give one shit that Edwin likes boys because he's his best mate forever. He's still pissed that Simon is apparently staying but he has to hug Edwin at that. "I'm still pissed you didn't tell me about him," is all he says, swallowing back the other words he wants to say.

Charles grows even more paranoid about Simon being around, who has to get used to the fact that Charles takes to swinging his cricket bat ominously every time he comes within ten feet of Edwin. He finds out that adjusting clothing was an Edwardian courting thing and wants to break something. The very idea the very person who killed his best mate is now trying to put the moves on said best mate pisses him off.

It also makes him think of numerous times Edwin had readjusted his collar or jacket in the past and it makes his non-existent stomach flip.

Eventually, Simon decides he's ready to move on to his after-life and Charles keeps his hands from fisting when he looks at Edwin with that same soppy look. He knows Edwin has forgiven Simon by now but Charles has always been better at holding a grudge and he knows what is going to come out of Simon's mouth before he even asks. He knows that if Edwin says yes, he won't stop him.

Charles also knows that if Edwin does, there is no way he is going to find any kind of his own afterlife.

"You could come with me," Simon says hopefully and the moment after is the longest in Charles' life.

"Thank you, Simon," Edwin says kindly and Charles has to keep himself from crying. "But I have no interest in going anywhere without Charles."

He steps back - away from Simon and back towards Charles. Ears suspiciously pink, Edwin links their hands and they watch as Simon follows the Night Nurse.

[yenqa]

firsts

synopsis — sakusa and you have never had a conversation, and honestly you’re terrified of the man. but one conversation turns out to be many more of your firsts with sakusa.

warnings — reader is scared of men LMFAO, not really any

pairing — sakusa x implied fem!reader

wordcount — 710

a/n — happy birthday to himm! also my first hq post in a while OOPS also not proofread sorry!

You’ve never really talked to Sakusa.

You had been the manager of the volleyball team since your first year–and you had known him since then, but for some reason, you haven’t talked to him unless it’s volleyball related.

In fact–you don’t think you’ve ever had a conversation with him. But there's a first for everything, right?

Itachiyama has made it to nationals (not like it’s a surprise), and everyone has just arrived. The room continues to fill with people you don’t know, so you decide it’s best to stick with your team so you don’t get lost.

Well apparently that was a horrible idea to everyone else. Because you’ve lost everyone but Sakusa. 

And you’re terrified. Surrounded in a room full of men you don’t know sounded like your worst nightmare, and you were living it currently.

Frantically scanning the room for anyone that’s not Sakusa, you somehow can’t spot any of the familiar bright yellow and green jackets your team is wearing.

Everyone knows that Sakusa doesn’t like to be bothered. But when you make eye contact with him, you change your expression to a way where he understands you’re pleading for help.

And he nods once.

Your mouth breaks out into a smile, and you shimmy your way to the crowd. Letting out a sigh of relief–you lean on the wall for support, muttering a small thank you to Sakusa. 

You don’t expect him to say anything back, but you can hear his muffled voice say, “You okay?”

Tilting your head slightly up to make eye contact with him, you smile as you say, “Yeah–I’m fine. Are you nervous?”

You’re not sure why you ask the question, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered. I mean–you were still kind of shocked that he let you even be near him.

“Not really. Are you?”

You’re even more shocked when he continues the conversation. You’d expect he’d be the most rude person if he didn’t want to talk. “I-uhm I am a little bit. But we’re exempt from playing today right?”

Yeah–this definitely is the first and last conversation you’ll ever have with him.

He nods.

Then it’s silent.

Surprisingly, the silence isn't the most awkward thing you’ve experienced. It feels as if you’re just two people co-existing.

You watch as everyone excitedly hugs each other or glares at their next opponent. One person even tries to rile up the other, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

From the corner of your eye you can tell he’s curious, but he hasn’t said anything yet. This time, you take initiative to point at the players, also describing the jacket colors.

And you swear you can hear him laugh.

Not a full–hearty laugh obviously, but a small chuckle. A quiet one that you don’t even notice. But it’s definitely the first time you’ve heard him do anything resembling a laugh.

“You laughed.” You blurt out, before you even realize. 

He furrows his brows, “I did.”

Your eyes widen, “Sorry–oh my gosh, it’s just the first time I’ve heard your laugh before, Sakusa-san. I swear I didn’t mean it like that–you just have a nice laugh–”

And now he’s actually laughing–like not even hard to hear.

He’s laughing, he’s hunched over, shaking and clutching his stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more mortified in your life.

“It wasn’t that funny was it?” You ask, a frown on your face.

Sakusa catches his breath, “Funnier than any of the jokes Komori tries to make.”

“There wasn’t even a joke! And I happen to like the jokes he makes!”

“Only if you’re sick in the head.”

You scoff at his remark, “Wow, Sakusa-san, you’re very hard to please.”

“Kiyoomi.”

“Another complaint?” You tease, trying to play dumb at what he’s trying to imply. 

“Call me Kiyoomi.”

You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, you tuck your hair back behind your ear and mutter, “Okay, Kiyoomi.”

And even though he’s wearing a white mask, you swear you can see his eyes crinkle and you can assume the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. 

You’ve had many firsts with Sakusa today. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile–just maybe next time he’ll do it while his face is fully shown.

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[greyskyflowers]

I'm just such a big fan of Edwin having some permanent issues after a second trip to hell and the final run in with Esther.

I like the idea that he actually has to sleep now. Nowhere near what a living human needs but more then he ever needed before. Maybe sleeping for several hours every few weeks.

Iron wounds take longer to heal, even though Edwin has always had a higher pain tolerance due to his experiences in hell.

When he's really tired, things start to hurt. Tender pain along all his joints, the spots where the demon spider found it was the easiest to tear him apart.

He get bruises under his eyes, headaches, occasionally a little chill, stiffness, and just a general aching all over his body.

It's hard for Edwin to sleep, for several reasons. Nightmares, anxiety, restlessness, and just being stubborn.

The vulnerability of sleep is terrifying.

The idea of leaving Edwin alone somewhere to sleep, even in their office, has Charles skin pickling. Especially knowing Edwin is also reluctant to sleep without him there.

So, Edwin does not sleep alone. Ever. Occasionally he gets left with Niko, and sometimes Crystal, but it's for very brief amounts of time before he's back with Charles.

It should be embarrassing to have these issues now, and it is, but they're even closer after Port Townsend and it's not something Edwin can avoid. He has to sleep now.

Really, it comes down to does he wants to keep it to himself and nap when no one else is around to avoid feeling weak? Or does he want to sleep with the comfort of knowing someone is with him and hell won't take him before he even gets a chance to wake up?

It comes down to how fearful is he of something dragging him off into hell again and the answer is apparently incredibly so.

Also, if he's going to look vulnerable and weak then it might as well be with Charles, who's seen him at his worst.

He tries not to overthink how pleased Charles is each time Edwin seeks him out for a nap or how good it feels to be held, the safest place he can think of is in Charles arms or under his sharp watch.

Charles hovers, and he's aware of it. He can't convince himself to stray too far from Edwin. Part of it's because he's protective, reluctant to leave Edwin in anyone else's hands when he's more vulnerable then before.

Part of it is selfish, he's a little possessive. A sleeping Edwin is not something anyone else needs to see. Edwin in pain is not something anyone else needs to see.

Crystal had recently demanded they have a bed available in the office for when her and Niko stayed over, even though they rarely use it. It's soft, covered in pillows and blankets, and Edwin has taken to hiding away in it when he sleeps. Crystal looks incredibly pleased when it slips that Edwin uses it and Charles is hit with a intense wave of fondness for her.

No one needs to see Edwin like this. Especially not when he loses a lot of his layers and curls up in something more comfortable. It leaves him vulnerable, his throat and wrists bare, and looking smaller without all extra clothing.

Nobody needs to see how he only really lets himself sleep when Charles is in bed with him or close enough in the room to reach out for if needed. He watches Charles do whatever it is he's doing with half lidded eyes, a strip of green that stubbornly stays visible until Charles is closer.

In the beginning they thought it was something temporary. Ghost don't need to sleep, Charles never sleeps. Sometimes he can get himself to relax enough that it's almost like sleeping but it's not anywhere near actual sleep.

They think it's just him trying to make up what Esther took.

But it keeps happening. Again and again.

And it makes them both anxious. Charles is worried about why Edwin suddenly needs to sleep but Edwin is worried about the actual sleeping part.

He does not want to sleep. Sleep means dreaming and nothing good will come from his dreams, he's sure of it.

It's also scary. Sleep is a weakness, it leaves him vulnerable and unaware. He doesn't want to sleep.

In those first few weeks where they all still thought this would pass, exhaustion caught up to him one evening as they were finishing up a long case. Charles was out and he couldn't even think about how wonderful it would be to go to go lay down because Charles was not there.

The office was too quiet. It made him restless and he would have paced but he was feeling especially sore that day. His hands had ached while he was writing and he had to stop frequently to flex them.

He was weak, alone, and rapidly sliding into a decreased mental awareness due to exhaustion. It's not a situation he liked.

They weren't apart for long those days, and still aren't, so Charles is back pretty quickly but it's long enough that Edwin was struggling. He blinked sleepily at Charles, with eyes that itched when they shouldn't have, and he must have looked terrible because Charles straightened up a little bit and his eyes jumped around the room before he relaxed.

He said something, dropped his bag and walked forward until he could put his hands on Edwin and that's it. Edwin leaned forward until he was relying on Charles to hold him up, turned his face into his neck and passed out still standing up.

It doesn't get that bad again. Charles is good about noticing when Edwin starts to slow down, and when it takes him a little longer to string his words together or explain himself. He picks up the way he carries himself different on day where things hurt a little more or how he rubs his temple when he feels a headache coming on.

He herds Edwin to bed like a sheep dog and makes sure everything is locked up so they won't be bothered. Edwin had managed to find a spell that would keep anyone else, living and none, out of their office when activated. It's perfect for extra privacy and security.

Charles hates that Edwin was hurt enough that he needs this now, and he hates seeing him wore down and exhausted... but part of him loves these days.

Edwin sleepy and soft, usually pulling Charles down with him until they're under all the blankets and pillows, tucked on their own little world.

He clings when he sleeps. He buries his face in Charles throat and under his chin like he's trying to hide, presses in as close as he can until they're completely tangled together. Not that Charles has any problem with that. He runs his fingers over skin in soothing gestures and pulls him in close if he starts to show any signs of a nightmare.

He wakes up with hair sticking up and clothes rumpled, blinking at Charles a few times as he tries to wake up enough to remember what's happening. Sometimes, Charles gets lucky and Edwin will stretch out like a cat before readjusting himself to be close again and doze off for a little longer.

It knocks the breath he doesn't need out of his lungs and love sits in his throat until it threatens to choke him.

Sometimes there are nightmares and Edwin shoves himself away desperately with a pained and fearful noise that has Charles cringing. Edwin stares at him from the other side of the bed, eyes big but unfocused in a way that shows he's not actually seeing Charles. He's tight, tense and completely locked up. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. They're both still laying down, and Charles doesn't move even though he wants to. He starts talking, low and soft, keeps doing that until Edwin starts to relax again. It's a slow process and it takes a while before Edwin is relaxed enough that Charles can reach out and coax him back closer. He's exhausted after those little episodes, too tired and his body too sore from being so tense to put up much of a fight as Charles tucks him in close again. Sometimes he's asleep before they're even settled back in, limp with sleep as Charles rearranges him in a way that won't have him aching when he wakes up.

Sometimes Charles is too wired to lay down, even if cuddling is great motivation, and he keeps himself busy while Edwin rests. Sometimes they're in the middle of a case and there's still work that needs to be done, so he does what can while until Edwin is back up and functional.

It's a powerful feeling, having Edwin trust him so much and so openly. Sometimes Charles has to check on him, the quiet and unmoving lump on the bed making him nervous until he looks him over, just to make sure everything is okay. It's hard to tell sometimes since they don't breathe like the living, and Edwin sleeps so quiet. He doesn't even flinch at Charles getting close, nothing triggering those survival instincts gained in hell that would have him awake and moving if it was anyone else this close.

God help anyone stupid enough to try something when they're like this. He'd fight anyone who disturbed them, anyone who woke Edwin up from his much needed rest or threaten to cause them harm. It burns under his skin and it makes his teeth itch.

Nothing would separate them. Nothing could take them away from each other.

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

Not so Fake

Masterlist

Tim stationed himself in the third sitting room in the Manor. It was the closest to the kitchen, and furthest from the bedrooms and entrance of the manor. In other words, the perfect hiding spot from his overactive family that have united to try and make Tim rest. The only member that would find him right away would be Alfred, who already left him a cup of tea with a few of his cookies along with one of his laptops.

A note left on top stating that Alfred expected him to actually relax, and spotting the stickers Tim could tell this was his personal laptop. Taking Alfred seriously, Tim booted up YouTube and decided to watch his new favorite, GalacticPhantom, or Danny. He had found the channel a few months ago when one of his search engines caught a mention of Tim Drake and Red Robin being the same person.

The video in question had started off with a very well made video of the camera zooming down from a space view of the Earth to Danny’s home town, through his window and coming to a screeching halt in front of Danny and his friend Wes. The opening was highly impressive to Tim and the twenty-five minute video that followed had Tim wanting to pull his hair out.

Everything Wes said was true, completely true.

Tim was absolutely stunned and terrified because the other teen had managed to fully pull together who Red Robin was without even being in Gotham. The only thing that stopped Tim from calling a meeting about it, was that no one in the comments believed him. Instead Wes was mocked with the tried and true, ‘what do the butts match?’. He ended up watching every video under the playlist, ‘Wes the Detective’ and every single video hit right on the money but absolutely no one believed him. 

Well, no one but his friends it seemed. Tim had a couple theories about it and if it wasn’t for the fact that Wes has his identity clock he’d be staking out the town now. So he chose to stick to the theory that Wes was incredibly smart, but cursed in some way.

However today Danny had posted a new video and Tim could barely wait to watch it. The title was called ‘This thing wont leave me alone.’ and the thumbnail showed a screaming Danny holding a broom with a humanism but clearly not human girl spiderman to his ceiling seemingly hissing at him.

Tim grinned as he pressed play and settled back into the couch to watch. As the intro came to an end it found Danny in the closet of his bedroom speaking into the camera as if he was documenting his last moments.

“Hello everyone and welcome back to my channel.” He whispered softly only stopping at a noise outside the door that sounded like nails scratching against something. “What the—” the chittering of a badger interrupted him to cover his curse. “Today I’m hiding in my closet because this demon thing showed up and won’t leave me alone.” Something being knocked over in the background was heard causing Danny to freeze again. “I am taking my stand though, I have my makeshift weapon and-and I’m gonna face it. In the event that I don’t come out of this alive, Tucker you can have my Doomed character, Sam just ask them out already, Val you can sell all my stuff, and Wes I’m sorry I gaslight everyone in school that one time into thinking you weren’t real.” 

“That was—you Danny, oh you better hope you don’t survive after this!” Wes snapped from behind the camera, his curse being covered by bird chirps, and a second later Tucker’s head popped up from the bottom right screen. 

“You’re focusing on that rather than the fact Danny said that all to the screen like we weren’t even here.” Danny shushed them all dramatically holding his broom in front of him like a weapon.

“It is time. Remember me views, remember me.”

“So—dramatic.” Sam is heard but not shown on camera, soon after Danny is shown bursting out of the closet startling the humanoid creature with white hair and bright neon green eyes. 

Tim assumes the creature is one of their little siblings decked out in a creepy cosplay, a really creepy one that Sam definitely had to have a hand in making.

The girl immediately starts screeching and hissing at Danny who starts screaming back before starting to swat at her with the broom. Only for her to drop on all four and start crawling around to dodge him.

“Why won’t you stay still!!” Danny cried out as he panted slightly out of breath. The girl let out an evil cackle starting to crawl toward him and the others fast as he head began to turn to the point that it was upside down. Everything was silent before Danny began screaming hysterically while hitting the girl with the broom before she managed to jump on him and they began to fight. The video cut off right as the girl got a good hit on his nose, only to come back to Danny back in the closet with a bloody nose.

“You okay man?” Wes asked from behind the camera as Danny just stared dazed ahead. Danny turned to him, eyes unfocused as he stared at the camera.

“Do-do I call an exorcist? Do we have exorcists around us? Bro I have a demon in my house, and my parents who are ghost hunters can’t even detect it. What do I do?”

“Danny, I think she might have broken your Lego space shuttle.” Val was heard and seconds later Danny was shown back outside the closet in a screaming match with her while fist fighting and rolling all over the ground. 

“THAT LEGO SET COST ME FOUR MONTHS ALLOWANCE!!”

“I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU REGRET BREAKING IT!”

“ALL I DID WAS HIT YOU WITH A BROOM!”

The girl seemed to be responding to him in either gibberish, or a language they created. Which only seemed to anger Danny more.

“ENGLISH! SPEAK ENGLISH!!” The girl paused, stopping herself from landing a solid punch to his cheek before grinning at the confused teen.

“No.” Danny seemed stunned before anger took over again and the fight continued.

“You can_____speaking english! You____daughter of a______!!” The feed cut off before returning to Danny who was sitting on the bed of his wrecked room. The girl in question nowhere to be seen as Val cleaned some blood off Danny's cheek with a grin.

“I don’t know where she went, but I know she is still in my house. Tune in next time I find her because she better have some money to pay me back for my lego set. Thanks for stopping to watch this episode of mine and until next time, don’t let the ghosts get ya.”

“That was pretty interesting.” Dick said as he stole a cookie from Tim’s plate. “Are all his videos like that?” Tim didn’t even blink at his brother's sudden appearance as he moved to type out a comment.

“For the most part, ya. He’s a shit poster, his content is just a tun of stuff that is so outrageous and realistic but clearly not real.”

‘That fight gave off peak sibling energy. It’s giving, I’m gonna fight my sibling to the death because of one slight inconvenience.’

Jason hummed as he picked his book back up, dropping down in front of the couch to reread Pride and Prejudice. “Ya he was definitely fighting his little sister. He held back too much and she wasn’t pulling her punches.” 

“Only Drake would spend his time watching pointless videos.” Damien huffed, causing Tim to roll his eyes.

“Awe Dami, you know Tim is on mandatory rest. No work of any kind.” Dick grinned before jumping up, wrapping his arms around Damien and dragging him down onto the couch.

“Richard!! Let me go this instant!!” Damien screamed struggling to get away from his octopus of an older brother.

“No! I need my little brother cuddles and I need them from my Dami! No escape for you now.” Damian kept fighting Dick’s hold for the next twenty-five minutes while Tim put another of Danny’s videos on and rewatched it with Jason and Dick watching as well. The video in question was one where Danny went through a locker with his friends and went back in time to when his school first opened. Jason snorted, commenting on them making everything black and white. Danny meets a seemingly see-through kid named Sidney Poindexter and it ends with the two of them having a dance off.

“Bruce, why the fuck are your kids watching a video of a kid dancing with an Infinite Relams ghost?” Tim paused, staring blankly at his computer screen before turning to look at Bruce and John Constantine. “Wow holy shit, the Infinite Realms rarely interact with us since Luthor let the Anti-Ecto Acts pass. Yet that kid is interacting with one like their friends.”

“You’re saying this shits real?” Jason asked, closing his book looking at the screen more interested.

“Language Master Jason.” Alfred said as he walked in from a tray of tea for everyone.

“Sorry Alfred.” John nodded as he moved closer, eyes trained on Poindexter.

“If it is not real it is still more similar than could be possible. They’ve definitely had interactions with the Realms.”

“Wait, what are the Anti-Ecto Acts?” Tim asked his attention zeroing in on John.

“Well fuck, you don’t know? It affects like all of you, thought for sure you’d know. Shit this is gonna take so long to explain. We’re gonna have to call a JL meeting for this explanation because I’m not doing it twice.”

Of Meetings and Musings

[lifetimeoftired]

How to Adopt a Dead Kid in Three Weeks or Less (Part 2)

Part 1 || Part 2

As promised; part 2! I would like to apologize to Dick for the trauma I put him through, but honestly it was really fun for me. Also I love the idea of Danny actually trying to leave, but he keeps getting pulled back into family shenanigans because they decided 'mine now'.

Tag list: @tkiesai @sir-ghost-the-green @dreamingaboutsakuratrees @atinygracie @wolfeyedwitch Enjoy<3

Duke squints at the mop of black hair, just peeking out of the blanket. When did Tim get in last night? And really? A couch? He usually at least makes it to the batcave and sometimes even his actual room if he’s going to pass out. And what happened to his sneakers? They look weirdly worn and they’re tucked up under the couch instead of being put away properly. Alfred’s going to be really annoyed when he comes down and finds Tim like this. Duke considers walking away and leaving Dick and Tim to whatever the heck is going on here- it would serve Tim right for being so terrifying about his unhealthy sleep schedule. 

Yet, just as he’s going to walk away again, he notices that Dick’s not moving. He’s crouched there, staring at the sleeping Tim with an unreadable expression on his face. It’s… Unnerving.

“Dick? What’s wrong?”

“Tim’s not breathing.”

Is… Dick okay? The bags under his eyes aren’t as bad at Tim’s but he looks like he hasn’t slept. Duke can only stare blankly at him. Then at the has-to-be-sleeping Tim. Of course he’s just sleeping- it’s Tim! He consumes his weight in poison on a daily basis; there's no way he’s just gone. But the longer he looks at the should be sleeping form, the more Duke realizes the same thing Dick did. There’s no rise in the blanket. No accompanying fall to indicate that the body is breathing and alive. 

Panic wells up where his heart should be- having dug its way somewhere down near his stomach and was now useless beyond a frantic beating. Oh god oh god oh god- Bruce and Jason flash through his mind. Stephanie- Shit. 

“Tim- Tim wake up!” Unthinkingly, Duke grabs for him, unhearing of the noise Dick makes and- It’s only his bat training saves Duke from being flung head first into the wall. 

He twists, feet skidding along the floor and recovers in time to see Tim try to spring up from the couch. Dick snatches their brother mid-jump, and gets wrenched to the side so hard they flip over the back of the couch. Dick bends, ducks and rolls, ends up the other side with Tim in his lap getting the biggest cuddle of his life so easily in a feat that Duke would find impressive later when they all calmed down. 

“It’s us Timmy! Everything’s okay, you're safe.” Thankfully, Tim calms down pretty quickly and waits for his brother to get done with his bear hug.

It’s odd though. Tim doesn’t usually sleep if he’s in a bad enough way to freak out like that. Sure there’s a long list of cases that are ongoing right now, but that usually means so much caffeine Duke can feel his liver cringe in horror. Oh well, the only way to get answers is for their resident caffeine addict to talk, Duke knows he can only wait until their certified Older Brother™ gets it all out of his system.

Duke plunks down with a sigh, and grunts when he lands on something lumpy. Something that turns out to be a ratty old backpack that looked spiritually connected to those cranky old war veterans you see on sitcoms. Was it for a case? Tim’s not exactly a stereotypical rich guy (none of the Waynes were thank god), but any of them would have replaced this thing long before needing to duck tape the corners and shoulder straps like this. He looks over the couch to ask, maybe offer to help and hope Tim actually takes him up on it. But when he makes eye contact, the words die in his throat. Those are blue eyes (icy blue, wide, frozen in fear), and jet black hair (longer than Dick’s, stick up where he’d been nuzzled half to death, scruffy where he hadn’t, bangs styled forward in a way none of them had), but that’s most certainly /not/ Tim.

“Dick? That’s not Tim.” 

“What?”

Dick pulls away from the boy in his arms to get a better look at the wrong boy- Duke himself. Who quickly gestures back at the freaked out, curled up kid. This time, when Dick looks, it’s a much more proper look and notices all the reasons that’s not Tim.

“You’re not Tim.” Dick said stupidly. 

“I am not Tim!” The boy jazz hands awkwardly, his arms tucked close, and adds an even more awkward grin to puncture the statement. “You wouldn’t be the first person to think I’m him if that makes you feel any better.”

There’s a beat where none of them move, then Dick leans back with a long drawn-out groan. Before any questions can be asked, Dick ‘completely unnecessary acrobatics at any given time’ Greyson rocks them both back, laughing at the boy’s squeak, flips forward, and lands on his feet. Only then does he set not-Tim back on his feet with a friendly hair ruffle.

“What makes me feel better is that you’re okay. You gave us a bit of a scare there- I thought you weren’t breathing.” 

“I uh, y’know. Got a deep R.E.M. sleep?”

It’s a really dumb answer. Like, really dumb. It’s clear he never expected to be asked about whatever’s up with him and he doesn’t want to give a real answer. Moreover, it’s clear the backpack really is his because those clothes he’s wearing? Every bit as ratty. The shirt he’s wearing is less ‘white and orange’ and more ‘off white, suspiciously stained, and the logo is cracked to hell and back with very little indication of what it’s supposed to be’. Same with how many tears and faded stains are in the jeans. Also clear, from the way he angles himself, keeping both of them in view, that whoever he is, Duke knows better than he should about all the signs of a street kid.

“You guys weren’t kidding about Bruce’s adoption tendencies.” Duke quickly says. Distracting Dick so he won’t press too fast too soon and scare him off. The others (Jason excluded) are every bit as nosy as said serial adopter is paranoid and it can be a lot. Better to let the new kid acclimate to the manor so he’s not crawling out the window and disappearing into the night. Something Duke thought about doing every time things got to be too much. Which was no less than five times a day.

“I’m not being adopted!” When both Duke and Dick blink in surprise, not expecting the sheer amount of vitriol from Bruce’s latest, he winces and curls back in on himself. “I’m not staying, I mean. I didn’t even mean to wind up here- it just sorta, happened? In fact, I should probably get out of here. If you could just-” He makes a grab for the backpack, and Duke lets it go easily. “Thanks.”

“Hold on hold on-” Dick holds up his hands placatingly. “You haven’t even had breakfast yet! Alfred’s gonna be sad if you don’t join everyone.”

Dick gets a stare that says the kid thinks he’s insane- and Duke kinda can’t blame him. He also thought the Wayne’s were crazy. Because they were. For literally anyone else, random street kids they found pretty much dead on their couch weren’t usually invited to breakfast… At least their particular kind of crazy was nice.

“I know that that sounds, but Alfred really does love it when people appreciate his cooking. I’m Duke by the way.” Duke stands back up, holding out his hand with a smile. Seeing as not-Tim automatically shakes, he guesses the guy did have parents for the better part of his life. “Sorry for not introducing myself sooner.”

“... Danny.” 

Oh yes, a name really does make everything easier. Duke shakes Danny’s hand, and he even gives him a little smile.

“And everybody calls me Dick!”

“Well, people can be cruel.” 

Duke’s laugh desperately wants out both at Dick’s little puppy pout and Danny’s mortified expression, but he chokes it back very elegantly.

“You know, I’ve heard a lot of versions of that joke but somehow it always surprises me.” Dick says with a laugh, and another hair ruffle when Danny grumbles. “C’mon Danny. Let’s get some food in you, you can tell us how you met the old man. Then we get you some new clothes.”

“I like these just fine, thanks.”

“Sorry Danny,” Duke says apologetically. He’s been here long enough to know that stubborn glint in Dick’s eyes. He might insist he’s different than Bruce, and in many ways he is, but Dick’s mother henning is every bit as bad. “He’s going to pout and whine until you let him buy you something. Can we settle on a new backpack for now?”

It’s enough of a compromise for Danny to agree to be herded to breakfast. Bruce isn’t there, but Tim and Cass are. The real Tim is half asleep into his cereal (and grumbles about the bear hug he gets), and though Cass gives the new kid a curious look, she only stays long enough to grab an egg sandwich. Alfred is more than happy to put a big plate of the best food Duke knows he’ll ever eat in his life in front of Danny too- Much to his surprise. Did he really think Bruce would let him stay and not feed him? Hopefully he’d learn that Bruce was a pretty good guy after all and that he was safe here.

-

Over the course of the entire day, Duke learns a few more things about their new brother. 

For starters, Danny could eat. He was surprisingly good at hiding it too. Nibbling here and there and pretending he was eating slow and listening, but the second they pretended they weren’t paying attention, he’d stuff a good portion down his throat and refill his plate. Meaning he was able to eat almost four times the amount they would have reasonably expected out of a starving street kid while making it look like he wasn’t. It could only mean one thing; Duke knew he had to be a meta. No normal person could pull off either the speed or volume. 

The two other things he learned concurrently; That Danny was as accident-prone as he was kind.

Despite originally not really wanting to even go to the mall, with Dick’s good natured pestering and Duke mediating, they managed to convince Danny into not just the new backpack, but several new sets of clothes as well. In that time they saw him run into two separate doors- one of which broke his nose. His response? Crack it back into place and worry far more about the blood smear. Not even a few moments later, he was somehow roped into helping some little old lady carry her bags back to the front (they almost lost him there). Next, in the cafeteria, some unruly children knocked their tray and a good portion of it slapped Danny in the face. All he did was smile, clean himself off, and entertain the siblings with Dick’s help so their mom could take a small break and know nobody was in trouble. On the way out, Danny nearly got hit by an actual car helping some other shop-lifting street kids escape from the mall cop by pretending to trip in front of him. When the guy went tumbling into the street, Danny threw himself forward to push him out of the way of an oncoming car.

Getting back to the manor where Danny was moderately safer was a relief. It meant they could hand him off to a much more capable-of-dealing-with-this-crap Alfred and give Duke a moment alone to discuss things with Dick. The conversation went a little like;

“We need to make sure Danny is never on his own or he’s going to get himself killed. Meta or no meta. Agreed?”

“Agreed. I'll call the others.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

Terrified

Cw: idiots in love, remus being scared of fucking up, maybe some swear words, angst to fluff

Wc: 2.6k

You never want to see Remus again.

Your chest burns as you watch him dance in James’ back garden with a girl who looks nothing like you and all you can feel is bile climbing your throat.

Sure you hadn’t believed him when he’d first asked you out, but his persistence, his kind words and the way he would constantly flirt with you had gotten you to agree to one date.

You’d hoped he was being honest, that he had feelings for you too. Maybe not as strong as yours were, but at least enough.

Now you see you’d been a fool.

One Week Earlier:

Remus and you have been dancing around your feelings for each other for as long as you’ve been friends. You always flirt and tease each other, but nothing ever comes of it. Remus likes you- it sometimes feels a bit more than like, especially when he smells your chamomile conditioner, or when you offer him his favourite sea salt and caramel chocolates.

You feel the same. Remus always wants to buddy read with you, or hear you talk about your day and over the years, you’ve both gotten into a steady routine of either calling or messaging the other before you go to sleep.

It feels very much like the two of you are together already even though you’re not.

Your friends have become annoyed with you both for the amount of teasing banter that’s tossed back and forth that yields nothing.

“Just ask her out, Moony. Bloody fucking ‘ell, you’d swear you didn’t know the girl was tripping up about you.” Sirius moans, sipping his beer as Remus watches you talk with Lily and Mary at the other side of the long table.

You’re all at a pub to celebrate the end of the week, needing drinks after the way work has shafted you all in some way or the other.

You hair’s out tonight, a rare occurrence, and Remus swears that he can smell your shampoo from where he’s sat.

You’ve got on your work pants still, just with a different top- a softer looking top to your usual scrub tops. Even though you’re tired, and the lighting is shit in the pub, Remus’ breath is stolen by you.

“S’not like it would hurt anything.” James chimes in, Remus keeping his eyes on you as he tries to distract himself from acting on his friends’ goading. “C’mon Moony, you’d both be happy together.”

James would never root for you both if he thought there would be any major falling outs and a lack of chemistry, still Remus is hesitant.

It’s a bit different to liking you from the safe title of, ‘just friends,’ to liking you and doing something to turn the title into something else- something more.

You turn in his direction, a wide smile on your face when you find his hazel green eyes across the room.

“You’re far away tonight, Remus.” There’s no real sadness in your voice, but something about your eyes has Remus readying himself to change positions with Mary.

Sirius snickers, “He’s fighting your love, poppet. Doesn’t want to sit too near, lest he embarrass himself.” You frown, twisting a strand of hair around your finger as you examine Remus.

“You don’t actually have to come over.” you say, your mouth curving into a soft pout. Remus doesn’t hesitate in slamming the heel of his shoe into Sirius’ shin.

“Why don’t you come sit with me here, dove? Sirius can go sit with Mary.” you shake your head, turning back to Lily and Mary who glare at Sirius and shake their heads at Remus.

He sighs, sitting back into his chair. Remus’ mood doesn’t brighten till you’re all leaving. James and Sirius have gone to the till to settle up, Mary and Marlene have hitched a taxi, Lily is already in the car per James’ request with the doors locked and you’re standing at the door waiting for Sirius because he’s yours and Remus’ ride home.

“Sirius didn’t mean what he said earlier as anything more than a joke. You know that right dove?” Remus asks gently, scuffing his shoe against the pavement as he takes a drag of his cigarette.

“Mhm.” You pull your arms around you before letting them fall and then reach for the cigarette hanging from Remus’ lips. “Is this the strawberry menthol one?” You ask, looking up at Remus with eyes that seem to ensnare him like a siren ensnares its prey.

“Yeah,” it’s breathy and wispy, unlike Remus in all ways. It isn’t the first time you’ve shared a smoke- you don’t do it half as often as Remus, but every now and then, it’s a nice feeling between your teeth and fingers.

“You also don’t have to just do things to prove them wrong, which is why I gave you the out.” You turn your head to blow the smoke behind you, shoulders dropping just a little more as the smoke curls around your face.

Remus is enraptured. This close he can definitely smell the chamomile shampoo, though it also smells like sterility and sanitizer.

“I don’t need an out when it comes to you,” his hand reaches your lips, thumb dragging against your bottom lip just a second longer than it should before he plucks the cigarette from your mouth.

“You don’t have to keep the flirting up when it’s just Remus.” Your heart is pounding in your chest when Remus doesn’t look away. He tilts his head down towards you just as he takes a drag. It’s a little hypnotic to watch him inhale a little and then breathe out, blowing his smoke just over your shoulder.

Maybe it’s two pints he’d had, loosening his lips, but his words wash over you slowly. “I don’t flirt with you for their benefit, pretty girl. It’s not a farce.”

You feel your palms sweat against your thighs. “Oh really?”

He nods, a small grin spreading on his lips and making him look even hotter with the cigarette hanging from his mouth. “Yes really,” He throws the butt to the floor, stamping it out with the toe of his shoes. “I’ll prove it to you too. How abouts next Saturday, you and I go on a date.”

You shiver when his hand reaches for your elbow, drawing you a tad closer to him and out of the way of the opening door. “Just the two of us?”

Remus chuckles, “That’s how dates usually go, pretty girl.”

You hum, mulling it over in your head. You’re really only dragging it out like this so you don’t seem desperate, just in case this is a joke. “Sure, I’d love to go out with you Remus.”

You’d been excited about the date all week, not telling anyone about it lest you jinx the whole thing. When Friday rolled around you’d been practically bouncing off the walls.

Remus had texted you during the day, a little reminder of the date and the dress code for the fancy restaurant.

Your mind had been reeling with all the outfit options.

In the end, you’d chosen a pretty green dress with silver kitten heels. You’d curled your hair and told Remus you’d meet him at the restaurant.

You’d looked perfect and despite the trepidation over this all being one elaborate joke, you’d been hopeful. So, so hopeful.

Only when you got to the restaurant and texted Remus that you’d been there, he’d not responded.

Twenty minutes passed, then forty five, and you’d almost cried when the pretty waitress came in to ask if you were still waiting or if they could give the table away.

You’d at least ordered a slice of caramel cheesecake and then texted Sirius if you could come over to wallow.

That’s when you’d found out.

“Wallow? Poppet, I’m at a party.”He’s a little hard to hear, but you make him out fine and you frown.

“What party? Is everyone there?” you’re trying to be covert, but with Sirius there is anything but.

“Yeah, Moony’s here too. How come’s you’re not here, poppet?”

You won’t cry on the phone in the middle of the street.

“I’m coming over now.”

And that’s how you find Remus with his hand over your direct opposite’s bum, a flirty smile on his face and where you hear the splinter then shatter of your heart as you watch him kiss her neck.

“Hey poppet, you look like a stunner!” you blush a little, leaning into Sirius just a little. He shoves a red cup into your hand and you hardly even sniff it before knocking the entire thing back without flinching. Sirius laughs, fully impressed. “Okay, I assume you’ve had a rough night?”

“Yeah, but I just came to give this to Remus. When you find him will you give it to him?” Sirius nods, turning to find Remus but you’ve already shoved the box into his hands and making your way to the door.

You spend the entire night in your pyjamas eating the last of your caramel ice cream while you try to remind yourself that you and Remus aren’t a thing. You’re just friends, you just flirt with each other. It wasn’t that serious.

Nothing works, not even when Sirius messages you to tell you he’s never seen cheesecake make someone sad.

You feel a little numb, all through the weekend, avoiding your friends and their invites to bars and brunch.

You last a total of four days, then someone is banging on your door and you have to drag yourself out of bed with messy hair and stained Christmas pyjamas and open the door.

Sirius and James stand on the other side of the door. James is sympathetic, frowning when he spots your red rimmed eyes. Sirius opens his arms to you and the tears are back again.

“Oh poppet. He's a total idiot.” he mumbles, rubbing your back as you sniffle.

“We sent the girls on him,” James says soothingly, squeezing your shoulder.

“He won’t survive them.” you say wetly, stepping back to let the boys in.

Sirius smirks, “Moony’s a fucking twat, he shouldn’t survive them.”

You laugh and so does James. “Isn’t he your best friend?”

James nods, “Yeah, but he can still be a twat, angel girl.” You don’t feel comfortable telling them everything that had happened or everything you felt, but the boys use their tendency of imbuing you with confidence to get you to take a long hot shower, do your hair and find your sexiest outfit. Then, they drive you over to Remus’ apartment. .

Lily, Marlene and Mary are all leaving his apartment when you get there, smirks on their face when they see you.

“Make him work for it.” Mary whispers and you nod, letting Lily kiss your forehead just before sending you to Remus’ door.

“Open your door Remus.” The door opens almost immediately, Remus looks as horrible as you had been before your intervention.

Your friends don’t linger, they all pile into their cars and leave and you’re grateful that for once their nosiness hasn’t overridden their regular senses.

“Fuck,” he mutters, head hung low like he can’t stand to look at you. “Dove.”

“Can I come inside?” you ask and he nods, stepping out of the way so you could walk into his place.

Before you can say anything, Remus tugs your hand to pull you close to him. “Just for a minute.” he mumbles, his arms wrapping around you. Remus can’t stop the deep inhale, all he can smell is you and all he wants to smell is your chamomile shampoo. Maybe even some of your vanilla perfume.

You smell him too, his citrus and mint body wash. His clean cotton laundry detergent and something else that’s distinctly Remus. It feels good to hug him like this, but also you worry about the girl from the other night. You worry about your friendship and what’s going on.

When his hand cups the back of your head and his nose drags along your cheek you feel your breath hitch and your heart speed up. Your legs wobble, knees knocking slightly.

“I don’t know why you stood me up, or why you were dancing with that girl but I suspect she may not be happy to know you get this close to all the women in your life.”

You try for a joke, but it falls flat and Remus pulls away from you like you’ve burnt him.

He sighs, “I’ve been an idiot.” You nod, not wanting to lie.

“It would’ve been nicer if you just said you didn’t want to go anymore.” You’re trying hard not to let your voice crack, the last thing you want is Remus and you to make up just because you’re crying.

Remus bites his lip, the pretty scar slicing through it pulling tight as you watch his teeth sink into it.

“Dove,” you take a step back from him then. You don’t know what’s going to happen but you need a clearer head than the one you have right now.

“I did want to go.” He sounds sincere but you remember being at the restaurant for nearly an hour all alone.

“Then why didn’t you? I stayed for an hour waiting for you.”

Remus flinches. His chest burns with shame, guilt swirls his stomach. “I don’t have a good reason, other than I was scared it was just a joke. Just another thing we say and don’t do.”

You shake your head, “I texted you telling you I was there. Then I called Sirius and he said you were at a party with him and when I came you were dancing with a girl.” You take a deep breath to dispel the emotion clogging your throat. “This isn’t going to go anywhere if you’re not going to be honest Remus.”

His hand is rough against his face as he leans against his kitchen island.

“I wanted to get over you. I knew if I went on the date I’d just fall for you even more and I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship- I haven’t had the best track record when it comes to being in relationships. I’d have rather been friends than be your boyfriend and potentially lose everything.”

You shrug your shoulders, “I’d have rather you said that and cancelled the date. I’d have told you, you have nothing to be worried about and that we’d work through it together. Now, I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”

Remus nods. “I’m sorry dove. If it’s worth anything, it didn’t help. I was thinking of you the entire night and when Sirius gave me the cheesecake I almost ran over to your place. He and James stopped me and made me tell them everything. They told me I was being rash and stupid, said I was going to lose you now for sure.”

You sigh, tears pooling in your eyes finally. “I wish you just told me.”

Remus reaches for you, not being able to stomach the way your chin wobbles. “Darling,” he pulls you to his chest again, letting you cry. “I’ve been such a fucking twat.” You laugh through your tears.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, Remus chuckles. “You have been.”

“You’re really making me work for your forgiveness, precious girl. I don’t mind,” he kisses the crown of your head. “Would it be too much if I asked if you still wanted to go out on a date?”

You pull away, teary eyes looking into his. “Why?”

“I’m still head over heels but I need to prove I’m not a complete and utter knobhead.”

Remus is putting the ball in your court, knows it’s the best thing he’s ever done.

Still, his nerves are on fire. His chest constricts like you’ve already rejected him.

“Now?” He nods.

“You’re already all dolled up, don’t see a point in wasting this outfit in my dusty apartment.”

You nibble on your lip, “Maybe in a few days, Remus. I think we need to let this all settle.”

His smile dims a little but he nods, “I understand, dove. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

You leave his apartment and for the next couple of weeks you and Remus take it slow, slow to hang out, slow in speaking to each other one on one.

When you end up going out, he picks you up at home flowers in hand and a small box of your favourite chocolates.

“Let me do it right this time.”

[leclucklerc]

Something Immortal CL16 - 02. Bad Idea

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Wayne!reader

Summary: Y/n Wayne knows that this is a bad idea. But well, going against the law is something that runs in the Wayne Family.

Word Count: 4.4K

Previous Masterlist Next

“Is B really going to buy an F1 team?”

Y/n looked up from the plate of dessert in front of her towards where Jason was sitting. The both of them are in the VIP lounge of the Monaco GP, waiting for the race to start before being ushered towards the Ferrari garage.

“What makes you say that?”

Jason gave her a pointed look. “I’m not dumb,” he said. “I can see a business talk even if it’s miles away.” At this, he pointed towards the paddock that could be seen from the windows in front of them.

They could see a glimpse of Bruce, laughing and talking with people with different team kits. Y/n recognized most of them as the team principals or even the management team from different F1 teams.

“Y/n, seriously, I don’t have time to become a driver,” said Jason. “And I’ll probably suck at it, most of these guys had been racing since they were in diapers.”

“Still,” defended the woman, fully aware that Jason’s argument was fairly logical. “You don’t have to be a driver, but I think being around Formula One, something that you’re passionate about, can help you, Jason.”

He doesn’t have to be a driver if he doesn’t want to. Hell, truthfully, if Jason really puts his foot down and strictly declares that no, buying a whole Formula One team is not going to help him, then y/n and Bruce will stop. The both of them will leave this silly idea behind and never look back once more.

But she had seen him. How his eyes followed every garage that they passed in rapid attention. How he attentively listened to what John had said about Ferrari’s Formula One team, how he had watched the free practice and qualifying alone the days before.

It’s been a while. Maybe the last time she saw him being this passionate about something was before his death. To see Jason looking forward to something, to see his brother actually enjoy doing something outside of his crime-fighting activities.

“I-“

“Jay,” she said again, reaching out to hold the older man’s hand. “I- I know we’re not the best family. B is not the best father and the rest of us have not been the best siblings but still I-“ she stopped at that, eyes searching for Jason’s own. 

Years of guilt appeared inside of her. Years of missing memories between the two of them. Years full of regret and anger that had soured their relationship beyond words. 

Y/n, only wants what is best for her brother. “I still want you to be happy,” she said, blue eyes with a hint of green meeting hers. “I want to see you laughing again, be integrated into society, and live your dream-!”

Jason looks lost and y/n is really glad that this section of the VIP lounge was reserved for them.

Because the man in front of her looks so fucking vulnerable. 

She still remembers that time when Jason just returned to Gotham. All Lazarus green eyes and rage oozing out of his form. How he had practically attacked Tim, taunting the rest of them, and begged their father to choose him over that clown.

Y/n also remembers the emptiness that appeared in his eyes when they informed him that the Joker was dead.

It was one of the most terrifying moments of her life. Because Jason had it made his mission to kill that clown. To avenge the fallen Robin that had remained unavenged. To finally end the reign of terror that the prince of clowns had put upon Gotham City.

To know that he’s dead?

Well.

There are just so so many things left unsaid between the two of them. Too much pain and history that had happened between the two of them. To see, Jason who had always raged and raged looking this lost is-

“I’ve been wondering-“ said Jason, leaning forward. “Ever since that clown died, I’ve been wondering what the fuck I should do with my life-“

It’s a familiar conversation. Something that Jason had told her months ago under the darkness of the night. When there are only the two of them on top of his safehouse rooftop, sharing a stick of cigarettes to fight off the cold.

Y/n leaned forward, touching their shoulder together. It’s something that they often did before Ethiopia all those years ago. When Jason was nothing but a short and skinny kid that’s not too far off y/n own size. 

It’s been years since Ethiopia and a lot of things have changed.

“Have you decided, Jay?” she asked, eyes closing and head leaning towards his shoulder. “Whatever you want, you know that we will support you.”

Jason was silent for a bit.

The female too, sat there in silence, giving the older male a chance to think it through.

“I still want to be Red Hood,” he whispered, far too low for anyone to hear except y/n. “I still want to make Crime Alley a better place for people to live in.”

Y/n has to fight off a smile at that. Such a typical answer for a bat. Such a typical answer for the son of Bruce Wayne.

“Yeah?” she said. 

Jason hummed. “But I also want to live my life.”

A smile appeared on y/n face. She can feel the excited thrumming of her heart as she continues to listen.

“Oh?” she asked. “And that is?”

“Going to university, getting an English degree,” at this, he stopped. “And living the dream F1 fan life ‘cause my family owned a fucking team here.”

Y/n laughed at that; happiness clear on her face.

Bruce got the honor to wave the checkered flag that marks the end of the Monaco GP.

Her dad looks pleased, but she also knows that inside of that large smile and laugh, her dad simply doesn’t care. This business trip to Monaco had been a risky move after all, if it’s not for Jason’s happiness, y/n doesn’t think her dad would even consider going on this business trip.

In the end, when her dad was handed the checkered flag, the man put the flag into Jason’s hand.

“Do you want to do it, Jay?”

Jason blinked. “Huh?”

“Waving the flag,” answered her dad, letting out a smile. “Instead of me, my son can do it, right?” asked Bruce, turning his head towards where the president of FIA and the chairman of Ferrari stood.

“Of course, of course!” Said Ben, the president of FIA. “It would be an honor for us!”

“But they literally asked for you” answered Jason.

Her dad merely laughed at that. “They said you can do it, son.”

Jason may look like as if he wants to protest, but y/n knows that the man is far too excited at the prospect of waving the checkered flag at the Monaco GP. He may grumble and curse her dad a few times, but he really can’t hide the happiness that’s shining through his eyes at the mere thought of it.

The older man too, seemed to notice his son’s excitement as he let out an indulgent smile as he watched her brother being escorted to his position.

“Jason looks happy,” she said. “It’s been a while since I saw him like that.”

“I know,” murmured her dad. There was silence between the two of them before her dad leaned forward towards her a bit. “I saw you earlier.”

Y/n raised her eyebrow. “What?”

“I saw you flirting with one of the drivers,” replied her dad. “The Ferrari one.”

Ah, she thought. He was referring to Charles. “It was an act, Dad,” she simply said. “You know, like your Brucie Wayne persona? I just think that it will do us some good if we’re on a friendly term with the paddock.”

Her dad stared at her. “There are better ways to do that, like chatting with the FIA president, for instance,” replied the man as he turned his gaze toward where Ben and John were talking with Jason near the track. “I don’t think flirting with a driver will really help our cause.”

Y/n shrugged, “He’s cute, what can I say?”

“Y/n.”

“What?” she hissed out. “I have to watch you flirt with Selina the entirety of my life, let me flirt with cute boys for a change!”

“You know it’s different,” pointed out her dad, leaning closer towards her. “Don’t associate with anyone outside of the masked community.”

The woman rolled her eyes at that.

She knows that the older man has a point. She knows that he’s doing this in order to protect all of them. Not only his hidden identity, but the rest of the family and possibly the rest of the Justice League. Bruce has always put a tight leash on all of his children regarding the interaction and the social circle that they all kept. Most of the time, the man didn’t have to worry considering most of his children worked inside the masked community, resulting in most of their friends being another superhero.

But y/n?

Despite her close association and frequent presence in their nightly activity, she sometimes thinks that her dad forgets that she’s not a vigilante or a hero. Yes, she knows all of their secret identity, yes, she often assisted her brothers on their not-so-legal work.

Outside of all of that, y/n is a civilian. She’s just a normal doctor who’s not saving the world during her past time. She’s a normal woman that’s working in a perfectly legal job.

Friends are hard to come by when you’re the daughter of the richest man in the world. Friends are harder to come by when you’re the daughter of the richest man in the world who is also hiding the fact that he’s the dark knight himself.

“I know,” she hissed out. “It’s a persona dad, I doubt we’ll talk again.”

Her dad gave her a look as if he didn’t believe in that.

And well.

Um.

Charles won the Monaco GP. The first Monegasque driver to do so in the last 93 years. Jason had failed to hide his excitement as he waved the checkered flag.

Her family was there, right in front of the podium as they watched the Ferrari drivers and the McLaren driver celebrating the win that they acquired. Y/n was standing there, smiling politely as she watched the champagne shower that was happening in front of them.

It was also then, that their eyes met.

She was not sure if Charles was looking at her or at someone near her, but the man’s already wide smile had gotten wider as he locked his eyes with her. And it was also then, that Charles sent her a wink.

Huh.

Okay.

Oookay.

I’ll meet you later, he seems to mouth off, a bit quickly, before he continues the champagne shower with the rest of the drivers.

So much for not talking with him anymore.

“Hi, stranger.”

Y/n can’t help the quirk of her mouth at that greeting.

The woman turned her gaze towards the source of the voice, eyes immediately falling towards where Charles Leclerc stood next to her. There’s a smile on his lips, hair tousled and green eyes twinkling.

“Hello,” she greeted back, raising her glass of champagne. “Drink?”

Charles chuckled. “I had enough champagne for the day,” replied the male as he took a seat next to her.

She can’t help but laugh at that. “I mean, you won today,” answered the female, putting down the glass of champagne on top of the table in front of them. “How does it feel to be a Monaco GP race winner? And did you actually drink the champagne that’s being sprayed earlier?” Being sprayed with a bottle of champagne sure is an experience, it seems. 

“Amazing,” he breathed out, inching closer to her. “I guess a change of mindset is the only thing needed to break the curse.”

“I told you,” said the female, amusement dripping on her tone. “Guess I did become a really lucky girl today.”

“I hope so,” answered Charles. “I did remember your words throughout the race.”

“Oh? You did?” teased y/n. “Seeing Charles Leclerc win the Monaco GP live and being constantly on his mind? What a lucky girl I am.”

Charles let out a laugh at that.

The dinner party around them is buzzing with blaring music and drunken chatter. The event itself was hosted by WE and the FIA. A collaboration work between the two entity that marks the beginning of WE’s involvement in the motorsport industry. It was the reason why her dad – a reclusive who hardly leaves Gotham if he can help it – needed to do a business trip in Monaco.

And of course, for the simple reason of buying Jason an F1 team. 

Not that y/n is complaining. She had wanted to visit Monaco forever and this was the perfect opportunity to do it. Watching a Formula 1 race live is a bonus that she will never miss out on.

The dinner party that they hosted was the formal event that they made for the winners of the race. Though, it seems most of the drivers are in attendance. No doubt advised by each of their respective team to gain the elusive Wayne sponsorship.

She knows that the news of Bruce Wayne wanting to buy an F1 team or become a major sponsor had already made its rounds. Even the bigger teams who don’t really need more money came in order to make some kind of connection with Wayne Enterprise.

Truthfully, this dinner party made her nervous a bit. After all, it’s not like she attended a party outside of Gotham.

But still, Charles’s sudden presence helped ease up her nervousness for a bit.

“Where’s your brother?” asked Charles, eyes flickering around the room.

“Ah, Jason is not feeling well,” replied the female. “He decided to stay in our hotel.” Which is a blatant lie. Y/n knows that Jason brought his Red Hood gear all the way here. He’s probably prowling the streets of Monaco, searching for that gang boss who made him join this business trip to Monaco initially.

Charles hummed at that, taking a seat next to her.

“I heard you helped orchestrate this whole dinner party,” started the man.

Y/n laughed at that. “Orchestrating is a big word, considering me and my family just throw some money at the event organizer.”

“Still, I really like the red accents, it was as if you already know that Ferrari is going to win today’s race,” said the male as he gestured towards the red flower as well as the red napkins on top of the tables.

The woman grinned cheekily at that. “Who said I don’t? Maybe I have the power to see the future?”

Charles raised his eyebrows at that, amusement clear in his eyes. “Oh?” he prompted out, leaning forward. “Can you see my future then?”

Y/n hummed, mouth closing in a wide smile as she too, leaned forward. Both of their face are really close to each other. “Hm…” she let out. “I think… You’re going to be really drunk tonight.”

He laughed at that, eyes crinkling. “It’s given,” he said, grinning.

“Really?” she said, sounding amused. “Do you want me to see further into your future?”

“You can?” asked Charles, with a tilt of his head, mouth still grinning. “What a fearsome power that you have.”

The female giggled. “I think I can see…” she whispered. “A future world champion here.”

Now, Charles is full-blown laughing, the glass of champagne that he had been holding now forgotten as he lets the amusement to envelop his very being. 

“Seriously,” he said the first part in French before he switched back to English, “You really know how to appease someone.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah,” said Charles. ��You better be careful, or I’ll think that you’ve been flirting with me.”

It’s a bold thing to say, especially to Bruce Wayne’s daughter.

She knows that she’s one of the most desirable women in the marriage market, considering her looks and her family. Many people had attempted to flirt with her, to trap her with their honeyed words and kind gestures. 

But still, it’s been a while since there’s someone this bold.

“Well, I’ve been flirting with you,” replied y/n instead. “It would be embarrassing if you thought otherwise.”

Yeah, the moment she uttered those words, she knew that this was a bad choice to make.

Because at that moment, she could see the sparkle of interest in Charles’s eyes. The light that suddenly shone behind those green orbs as the man leaned forward toward her. Y/n could faintly smell the cologne that he wore, a masculine one that reminded her of her dad for a bit.

“Oh?” he said, mouth quirking up and eyes crinkling. “I’ve been flirting with you too, if you haven’t noticed.”

Okay, this isn't good. She needs to stop this before they go further and ignite her dad’s anger. 

“I see,” answered y/n with a smile. “Anyway Mr. Future World Champion, I think your team principal is looking for you-“

It was the perfect excuse because she really did have seen Fred wandering around the room in search of his driver. However, whatever she was going to say stopped immediately when a hand reached out to grab her wrist. She immediately looked down, staring at Charles’ palm.

“Hey,” said the male, grinning. “Wanna go somewhere fun?”

She should say no.

Y/n can already imagine her father’s disappointed sigh and the loud protest from her brothers. She can already see her doing the walk of shame tomorrow, with Jason silently judging her. It would be stupid of her to say yes because there are just so many consequences waiting for her if she took up that offer.

There’s literally no reason for her to say yes to someone that she barely knows.

But well-

Charles looked at her with those bright green eyes of his, the corner crinkling up from how wide his smile was. There’s something about his expression – so transparent, so genuine, something that she rarely saw in Gotham – that tickled her heart at the right place.

Maybe it’s the dimpled smile, maybe she was simply swept up by the moment.

But the next thing that she knew was-

“Yes,” she answered.

The smile that Charles let out can ignite the room.

The music is loud. Louder than what she used to.

There’s a huge misconception of her back in Gotham. Due to her father’s public persona, as well as her brother’s less-than-idle nature, the media had portrayed her as a party girl once upon a time.

But really, this is the first time for her to be in a club.

Clubs are not that common to start with in Gotham. Due to the high crime rate, and the many many dangers, clubs scarcely exist in the city. Galas though? Galas happens almost every week. Due to that, y/n only ever attended galas and galas.

So this, this is a new experience for her.

She could see the throngs of people around her, dancing and laughing, fully immersed in the music around them. There’s something about the air that just made everyone highly excited as if there’s no tomorrow.

It didn’t take long for her to be swept up by the atmosphere too.

 “So, how are you enjoying the night?” Yelled Charles as the two of them laughed and danced in the middle of the dance club. Y/n was glad that she had opted for a short dress because really, the ball gowns that she used to wear for galas will be sticking out like a sore thumb in this kind of scene.

 “It’s been fantastic!” answered the woman, amidst the loud music. Her mouth is a bit aching from how wide she’s been grinning but that really can’t dampen her mood. “It’s not my usual scene, but I guess a change of environment is not that bad.”

“Oh? Gotham doesn’t have a lot of parties?” laughed Charles, hand finding themselves around her wrist.

She stepped closer, face almost touching. “Mostly galas, or gatherings,” said y/n, letting out a shrug, before a grin overtook her face once again. “It’s not exactly safe to throw a wild party like this in a city like Gotham after all.” 

Something flickered in Charles’ eyes as he let out a hum.

“So,” started the woman, wanting to change the subject of the conversation. She leaned forward, cocking her head for a bit. “Is Monaco nightlife had always been this lively?”

“It is when it’s my party,” said the man, as they stepped out of the dance floor towards the bar.

Ordering for the both of them, Charles sidled close to her.

“You’re really trying to get drunk tonight?” teased the woman.

“Not too much,” replied the man. “I wanna remember you.”

She hummed. “Well, what’s stopping you?” she asked. “Don’t you think we should make more memories then?”

Charles turned to her, and the grip that he had around her waist tightened.

“Oh?” he said, voice lower. “Are you sure?”

The grin that she lets out must’ve been enough of confirmation because the next thing that she knew, they’re stumbling into Charles’ Ferrari, lips interlocked with each other in a desperate and sloppy make-out session.

She’s grateful that the parking space is located in a discreet place because her appearance right now is less dignified than what Bruce Wayne’s daughter should be. Though, she really can’t seem to care right now. All she knows is the taste of Charles’ lips on her and how his hand traveled all across her body, giving her a delicious tease of pleasure.

They fell into bed together.

That night had been a bit of a blur, to be honest. He remembers dancing with y/n, laughing, and touching her under the club lights. He remembers dragging her to the edge of the dance floor, head leaning forward.

“Can I?” he had muttered, head cocking sideways.

Y/n had let out a laugh at that, hands winding around his neck before she too, leaned forward.

He remembers the sweet taste of her mouth, how she had opened her mouth, letting their tongue meet in a wet mess. How his hands had wandered around, starting from her back before reaching downwards towards the edge of her short dress.

“Let’s take this somewhere,” muttered y/n back then, releasing his mouth with a string of droll still connecting them. “Somewhere more private,” the last part was whispered and he remembers the jolt of arousal that hit him at that very moment.

Charles doesn’t have a clear memory of how they managed to get into his apartment. All he remembers is how he pinned y/n by his front door, savoring her as they rutted against each other like a teenager. 

The night ended with them on his bed, rustling against each other and-

Charles cracked his eyes open, watching the sun filter into his room from the crack of his curtain.

He could feel the pounding headaches as the memories from last night rushed into him like a tsunami. Of him winning the Monaco GP, of him attending the formal dinner, of him and y/n stumbling into bed together-

His eyes widened as he immediately turned his gaze toward the other side of the bed.

Sitting there, still topless with a blanket covering her, is y/n Wayne, brow furrowed as she scrolled something on her phone. That sight immediately warmed something across his heart as he stared at the woman silently, not wanting to avert his gaze for a second.

“You’re awake?” asked y/n, turning her gaze towards him.

He let out a hum, shuffling closer towards her.

At that, y/n’s hand fell on top of his head, caressing his unruly mop of hair. It’s soothing, something that he really needs amidst the headache that’s been throbbing inside of his head. They stayed like that for a couple of moments, basking in each other presence.

The moment didn’t last long because y/n phone rang.

“Yeah?” asked the woman before she stared at him for a moment before she began talking in a language that he didn’t understand.

Charles faintly recognizes it as German. He knows a couple of words, but with the way y/n talking as if she’s a native speaker, well, it’s safe to say that he really doesn’t have a clue about what she’s talking about. The phone call didn’t last long. Only a couple of minutes at best. Though, at the end, y/n let out a sigh.

“Something wrong?” he asked, sitting up.

“Charles, listen,” stated the woman. “This is a bit awkward, but I gotta go.”

He ignores the disappointment that erupted inside his chest. The driver had been hoping that they could have breakfast together before taking a stroll around Monaco before he had to see her off.

“I really enjoyed last night but-“

Before she can even finish that sentence, Charles interrupts her again. “Can I see you again?”

Y/n blinked, staring at him. “Yes?”

“See you again,” said the driver, leaning closer. “I really enjoyed last night. More than simply enjoying it,” he continues. “I like to do it again.”

The woman is still staring at him.

“Of course, I mean not only fucking, but like, I would love to have a date with you,” he continue, tongue a bit tied at the sight of an angel in front of him. “If you give me the chance?”

Honestly, he was not expecting much. A woman like y/n must have had a lot of suitors or partners all her life. Charles will be the luckiest man on earth if y/n even gives him a chance for a single date, let alone dating her.

It was silent for a bit, as the both of them stared at each other with no words being exchanged.

The moment was broken when y/n let out a loud laugh.

It startled him a bit, Charles doesn’t really understand what’s funny about his declaration and yet, he doesn’t really mind it. After all, the sight of y/n letting out such a carefree laugh is something that he will integrate into his memory forever.

“Yeah,” said the woman, finally. “Let’s see each other again.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” grinned the woman. “But next time, bring me to a proper date, okay?”

Charles laughed at that, giving her a single kiss.

taglist!

@piceous21 @myloveforfandom-blog @barnestatic @ilivbullyingjeongin @fangirl-dot-com @halleest @a-beaverhausen @sagestack @redcellghost @mac-daddy-210 @kellysthilaire

[1d1195]

Most V

Read Most here | ~5.8k words

From me: I've been waiting for this part for a REALLY long time.

Warnings: *drum roll* SMUT, semi-public, unprotected, really needy 18+ also, some pretty angsty chats (and more Lauren)

Summary: Harry has been dying for this date for three years. And all the answers it comes with. Even if he doesn't like some of them. She missed Harry. Plain and simple.

With Addie off the phone, she gazed at her reflection for a moment. The girls did an amazing job with her hair and makeup. She felt beautiful. Beautiful enough to be on a date with Harry. He was one of the only people she had ever been on a date with (as much as she did it, she didn’t consider third-wheeling with Addie and Carter actually dating; and knowing Harry was her soulmate put a damper on the memory of her dates with one of the only other guys she dated, Beau, in the ninth grade). It was simultaneously terrifying and wonderful.

The thought of him made the nerves return. Closing her eyes, she smoothed down the skirt of her dress. It was light green. Nearly matched Harry’s eyes, which was why she selected it. There was a slight V-cut at her neck and had fluttery sleeves at the top of her shoulders. Eleanor insisted it looked beautiful against her skin and the skirt cinched slightly at her waist accentuating her curves and then came to a ruffled hem that hit just above her knee. With a pair of wedged nude sandals, she tried to create the effect that her legs were longer, but she slightly felt like she was playing dress up and this was not a date she was meant to go on.

“I just need to jump,” she whispered to herself encouragingly.

The full effect had Harry’s jaw nearly unhinged to the floor as she entered the kitchen. Eleanor punched him in the arm to keep him from drooling. Sarah smiled excitedly. “You look beautiful.”

“Extremely,” Harry nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning her in a way that made her feel naked, but in a really good way. She blushed so cutely. It made Harry’s heart skip a beat.  “Ready?” He asked.

She nodded. Because for the first time in ages she felt so ready to go on a date. Eager. Utterly excited to be alone with someone. “Yes,” she smiled.

*

Dinner passed in a blur. Truly, he was only thinking about the way her smile looked so nice on her lips. How soft her hair framed around her face. The way her skin practically glowed and it was only amplified by the makeup that she decidedly did not need but it looked like she was doing the products a favor by wearing them on her beautiful face. He was only pretty sure they spoke. Chatted about a variety of things but he wasn’t sure he could recall them in detail if asked because he was so overwhelmed by the fact that he was with her, on a date. After all that time.

He suspected there was stuff about work and college. He did remember he told her at least twenty stories about Mrs. Peterson and seriously worried she was one of his best friends, now. She talked about Carter and Addie. Gave an update on her mum and how she enjoyed living closer to her aunt.

But all those details disappeared. He was on a date with her. A date with the love of his life after three years of not seeing her and it was so goddamn effortless to talk to her, make her laugh, and smile with her.

It felt so good he could have cried.

“What are y’going t’do when y’finish your degree?”

“Uh,” she sighed, and Harry sensed her worry almost immediately. Wished he hadn’t made her feel uneasy even a little. Even if it was natural to feel that way.

A little anxiety about her future career was new for her. For the first time in so many years, nervousness that wasn’t because she was worried about him or her love for Harry was a bit of a curve ball. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted it badly, but didn’t know if it would pan out the way she saw it in her mind. “I’m not totally sure, actually,” she admitted. “I’ve got an online portfolio of my work, and I’ve sent it to a ton of publishers, magazines, et cetera,” she took a deep breath. “I could be really stereotypical and just continue waitressing by night and writing by day,” she shrugged. It wasn’t a bad gig. But it wasn’t what she hoped for exactly.

“Someone is going t’pick you up. You are too brilliant t’not be,” he sounded so sure—because he was. If there was anything he believed in, it was her, her dreams, and ambitions. “S’nice it can be... remote, yeah? Let you travel and visit your mum and whatnot,” stay here. With me. He thought silently to himself.

She nodded. “Yeah... I guess. But... I think I’d want to stay here.”

For three years, his heart was not inside his chest. But now it was back, the veins and arteries reconnecting to the rest of his body. Literally putting life back in him. It thudded so loudly he could barely make out the sound of the restaurant around them as he smiled at her. “Good,” he nodded. “Good,” he repeated quietly, relief heavier in his tone.

After a brief protest from her, (and for the first time since she arrived home, he didn’t even look at her as he pushed her hand away) Harry paid and signed the receipt for their meal. Once her glass was nothing but ice, he looked at her expectantly. “D’you want t’get coffee?” He asked, his voice full of hope because he didn’t want the night to end. Not even a little.

She nodded. If the night never ended, she would be glad.

Harry ushered her out of the restaurant, and she held her hand out for his. He took it eagerly and marveled at how her fingers fit the spaces between his; it felt like they were supposed to be there, and his hand was empty, not complete without hers attached to it.

They made their way toward the coffee shop up the road. Holding hands like they had done hundreds of times before. They chatted about the weather. He complimented the way her hair had lighter streaks throughout. She looked good. So good. “Louis and I have been running in the morning,” she told him with a shrug. “I think the sun hits different parts of my hair when it’s up and gives me this highlight effect.”

Harry had no idea he had been running with her. “You have?” He asked. Jealousy flooded him. It wasn’t fair to either of them. It was stupid. But the surprise was genuine.

“Yeah... the first time I went out and I saw him, I chased after him because he didn’t want to talk to me. But I buttered him up with those muffins I—”

“Holy shit, y’made the oat muffins?” He asked in shock. Forget what he said. The jealousy was real. She blushed, feeling bad she let Louis’ secret slip.

“You hate him now, don’t you?”

“Immensely,” he squeezed her hand as she giggled. “Did y’make the blueberry ones or the cranberry ones?”

“Do you actually want that answer?”

“No,” he shook his head quickly. “You’re right.”

“I’ll make some extra,” she offered.

Harry was about to ask her about breakfast tomorrow, but his phone began vibrating in his pocket. It was a great effort and made him feel awful, but he looked at it because he had to. As expected, it was his boss. “M’sorry kitten. S’work. Do y’want t’go in and order?” She smiled, nodding encouragingly. “Tell Lauren I said hi,” he said pressing the phone to his ear and stepping away from the shop a few paces.

Of course, someone was having a family emergency and without a family of his own, Harry was always the first call for overtime and help. There were still hours before he would need to go in. It wasn’t ideal, but still gave him plenty of time to finish his date.

It was well worth getting no sleep if it meant he could spend more precious time with her. It was one thing he was never going to take advantage of ever again. Time with her was the most invaluable thing he had.

“Everything okay?” She asked, holding out a cup to him.

“Thank you. Yeah... jus’... gotta do the overnight at midnight.”

“Oof,” she frowned. Then, much to his delight and surprise, she slipped her hand right back into his, like three years of nothingness didn’t stretch between them. Like they held hands for the last eleven-hundred odd days, every day. “Is that hard?”

For a moment, Harry was speechless, breathless, unable to remember what her question was asking. But then he brought himself back to reality. Harry didn’t like sleeping much. It was where he saw her most. All those dreams of what could have been... so no. It wasn’t hard to do overnights because at least when he was dead tired in the mornings after his shift, he didn’t dream. Didn’t see her. But he didn’t want to make her feel bad. “M’used to it.”

“Well, we can head home if you want to get a couple hours of sleep in before—”

“Do y’want t’go home?” He asked immediately, cutting her off, frowning at the idea of ending their night so quickly.

“No!” She answered just as immediately. Then, with a pink color painting her cheeks, she cleared her throat. “Just... want to make sure you’re... okay.”

Now he dreaded it. The couple of hours that he had seemed like nothing. There was no way he would get all the questions he wanted answered out in the open. But he had to start somewhere. “M’fine. Promise. Do y’want t’jus’ drive around for a bit?”

Silently, she nodded. “Please.”

*

Something shifted as they got back in his car. He wasn’t sure what, but it was a feeling like something had changed in the short time he was on the phone. It was in her eyes, the spiral of anxiety that was beginning to surface from inside her.

It seemed utterly unfair, and he silently hoped she wouldn’t retreat into herself. The thoughts of her leaving like she did three years ago rolled in his head so frequently now that she was home, he had a whole new set of nightmares to keep him company when he did sleep at night.

But right now, she was still in his car, and he had questions to ask.

For the time being, he pointed out new details on road signs that had been fixed and renovations to things in town she couldn’t see from the outside. She asked polite questions but really, he was just wasting time. So finally, Harry went to the next town over. He pulled into a little spot off the side of the road that fit exactly one car and gave a great view of the town. It wasn’t a mountain by any stretch, but high enough to make them feel tall and important.

He imagined it was a popular spot for teens with new licenses to make out as well.

Not that that was his intention.

There was a pause in their conversation. Comfortable and quiet. Then as Harry was about to ask her another question, she bounced in surprise at the sound of fireworks decorating the sky in front of them. “Wow,” she laughed. “All for me?” She winked at him.

He laughed and nodded. “M-hmm, had it all planned,” he watched the sky for a bit but the most beautiful thing he had the pleasure of looking at was her. So, he turned to watch her enjoy the display. She looked so pretty, her face illuminating every few seconds with a different color from the sky. He missed her so viscerally. Like even the freckles on his skin missed her. Every inch of him was plagued with wanting her even though she was right next to him.

If she went silent on him, he was going to lose his mind.

It was now, or never.

“Why did y’do it?” He whispered.

“Do what?” She asked, frowning at his quiet tone.

He closed his eyes, gripped the steering wheel tight. She had to know what he was talking about. “Why did you leave?”

Her breath caught and Harry felt bad for catching her off guard. But she had to know this needed to be said, needed to be dealt with. “Harry,” she sighed, swallowed hard. She looked out the passenger window avoiding the fireworks. “You should just... enjoy the fireworks. This isn’t—”

“Kitten, I need t’know.”

“I know,” her head knocked against the glass. He could just make out her reflection, her pained expression. It was rude of him to press. But he had to keep going. “But we—”

He pressed anyway. “You have t’tell me. Y’jus’ show up after three years of nothing. It killed me.”

“I know,” she croaked. “God, Harry, I know.”

“So tell me,” he was practically begging. “Don’t y’think I deserve t’know? You were m’whole world, kitten. S’not fair of you—”

“Harry, I fucking know!” She clenched her hands into fists in her lap. He was being unfair. In the time they were together they never fought. What did sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds have to fight about? When she left it was just sad. They never argued. So asking her to do this in his car on their first date after so many years, so many days of sadness and heartache, was completely unfair of him.

“I was so lost, kitten,” he wasn’t fighting fair at all. Coaxing her to breaking even though he had every right to know. She didn’t want the night to end and she feared it would if she told him.

“Harry—”

“Please, kitten. Baby, I just want t’understand—”

She choked out an involuntary sob the moment he said baby. “Because you deserved more than me! Okay? You deserved so much more than me and you wouldn’t have let me go so I just left, alright? You deserved more. So much more than me.”

The fireworks seemed quiet after her explosion.

But it didn’t make any more sense to Harry than the very day she first said it. “What does that even mean?”

Clearly, he broke something in her. She cried, hard. Breaking his heart further. He felt like an asshole, but he desperately needed to know. Her pretty makeup was going to be ruined thanks to him. “I don’t know. I don’t know,” she covered her mouth with her hand and sobbed into the window.

At least he had an answer.

Now for the next question. “Why did y’come back?” There was no answer for that. Just her quiet sniffles filled the car. She dug into his glove compartment for a napkin to wipe her face. If Harry wasn't so upset, he would have marveled at how she knew where everything was; some things didn't change even if they had. “Kitten, tell me.”

“Harry,” she whimpered. “Please...”

But he was desperate for answers. Desperate to put his heart back together. “I needed to see...” she croaked, her voice dying part way through the sentence.

“See what?” He was exasperated.

“That you had...” she swallowed. “That you had moved on.”

He turned away from her briefly, face twisting in anguish. He shook his head then turned back to her. He put his hand on her shoulder, asking her to face him and look at him when he said the next part. “Moved on?” He repeated. The words didn’t make sense. “How was I supposed t’move on, exactly?”

She sobbed and Harry wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Hold her and kiss her. He wanted to promise it was going to be okay. The way he always did when she cried. But he couldn’t. He needed to know how she thought that it was possible to exist without her. “I thought if I—”

“You are my soulmate, kitten. You know that.”

She whimpered, cheeks flushed, and tears streamed down her face. It pained him to look at her so upset but he had to finish this. Now. “You don’t believe in soulmates,” she whispered. Almost as if she wasn’t talking to him.

“But you told me we were,” his voice was crystal clear, definitive. No room to persuade him of anything else. She was his soulmate. She believed in them, so it had to be true. He believed in her. So that was enough. Harry gripped the steering wheel for all he was worth. Gritted his teeth as he asked his next question. “Did you move on?” The question was lost to the fireworks and the sound of her cries. But she clearly caught some of it.

“...What?” She whispered, tilting her head at him at a strange angle. Like he just told her that the grass was orange and it rained flower petals.

He inhaled sharply realizing he was agonizing over the thought. How long had he been holding that question in his head? Why didn’t he ask it sooner? Well, he knew why he didn’t ask it sooner. A large part of him never wanted to know the answer. “Do you have a boyfriend? Or... a fiancé?”

“Harry,” she rubbed her hands into her eyes.

“Goddammit," he sucked in a deep breath. "Tell me!” His heart was breaking.

“I didn’t date anyone while I was gone. I told people that I, and my heart, were happily taken. It never even crossed my mind, Harry,” she looked at her lap and swallowed nervously.

The fireworks complimented their evening perfectly. He released the breath he was holding and the grip he had on the steering wheel. The feeling came back to his fingers. His knuckles returned to the right color. “You said y’were taken?” He asked, thinking of the same notion he told Mrs. Peterson whenever she wanted to set him up on a blind date. Her gaze returned to his, and she held it for a moment, still in complete silence. Then she nodded. Her sniffles subsided.

Then she snorted, shaking her head with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “A fiancé, Harry? That’s ridiculous.”

“S’not,” he didn’t smile like she did. It was so serious to him. Felt it in his bones how serious it was. “Because if y’thought I was going t’move on from you... I don’t know, kitten,” he shook his head.

“No,” she repeated. Relief flooded him further. “I couldn’t... I took this first aid class,” she swallowed. “You would be really proud of me,” she smiled more genuinely through tears that filled her lash line. “I thought about all the things you taught me yourself when you practiced first aid and whatnot. I knew so much stuff. I was the class pet—”

“Course y’were.”

“—but we practiced taping wrists and ankles and I had to work with this guy, and I thought he was going to kill me,” she sniffed but that smile never left her lips. “I flinched every time his hand touched mine. He probably thought I was in a horrible relationship and that’s why I was learning how to tape injuries. I couldn’t even tell him that it was the exact opposite because I couldn’t tell him about you.”

Harry was silent, watching the explosion of color against the dark sky.

“I thought you would have moved on,” she whispered.

“Y’got your mom t’leave. I couldn’t even ask ‘bout you. You stopped talking to all of us.”

“If it helps at all, it was really lonely. Even with Addie and Carter...” she shrugged.

It didn’t. The thought of her being sad and lonely felt about as painful as her leaving. He was so grateful she had a friend to look after her. Someone to confide in. Because she left a lot of people behind who loved her, but at least Harry had them to comfort him as best they could.

“I thought about you every day,” she whispered. “I’ve been thinking about writing our story. I’ve been outlining it... reliving every memory through it. Every painful thing. I think it’ll be a series and honestly, I think it will be really good because the ending will be sad, and no one will see it coming because we didn’t see it coming and—”

“Our book?”

She paused. “You were my favorite thing to write about.”

He shook his head. He knew that. It wasn’t a conceited kind of thing. She said it all the time and he knew it. “What do you mean a sad ending?”

Another pause. She closed her eyes and sighed. “You can’t possibly want me back.”

Another long pause. Harry mulled it over and he realized just how angry he was. What had he done wrong that she didn’t feel adored by him? Where had he messed up and not made her feel safe? Did he let go of her hand like when they were on the balcony the other day? It was too much for him. His grip tightened on the steering wheel again. “What is the matter with you?” He put his head on the steering wheel against his hands as he spit the words out. He hated arguing with her. He felt pulled in two directions to have this conversation and comfort her. It seemed impossible to do them both at the same time.

“Harry,” she frowned. “I’m—”

He shook his head and smacked his hands against the wheel as he sat back. “I am never going t’stop wanting you. Don’t you get that? There is no ending with us. There can’t be. I have been waiting for three years for you t’come back t’me. You’re here and y’think I’m jus’ supposed t’have move—”

She was kissing him.

Her lips covered his in a hungry kind of way. Raw, achy, and hot. She pulled away briefly, her breath short pants. Her hand at the back of his head, her fingers pulled and tightened snuggly against locks of his hair. Poor Harry was so surprised he didn’t fully grasp what was happening and forgot to kiss her back.

He hoped she didn’t think it was too late. Or too soon, maybe, for him to agree to this kind of thing. But he only let one additional second pass before his lips were back on hers. His hands held each side of her face pulling her close to him, awkwardly around the console.

She seemed to melt into the kiss, her whole body releasing a long breath that made her shoulders fall, her body sinking forward. Harry moaned quietly into her mouth. One hand slid from her face into the back of her perfectly styled hair. Within five more seconds he started to pull her over the console separating them. He heard the clunk of one of her shoes falling onto the floor. With one hand on the small of her back, he used his free hand to push the seat back to give her more room between his body and the steering wheel.

Harry wasn’t her first kiss. But the way it felt, he may as well have been. She wished he was. There was nothing better than kissing him. There was a familiar possessiveness in the mix of their lips and breath. It was like he was saying no one else was ever going to kiss her as well as he did. Softly, his tongue slid across the seam of her lips to get her to open further.

Harry knew she didn’t like lots of tongue in her kisses. Which was fine with Harry, a quick brush of her tongue against his was plenty and not the part he cared about much anyway. The way she sucked his lower lip into her mouth and traced it with her tongue nearly made him finish in his pants. Her lips were so sweet. Just like her. It was the most natural feeling in the world to kiss her. Like he kissed her yesterday, the day before, all last year, and every other day succeeding her departure. “God,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Hmm,” he hummed. His hands touched everywhere. Roamed along her sides and around her back, up her arms and cupped the sides of her neck. He wanted to touch her everywhere. It felt so good to hold her and the way she moaned made him assume she was enjoying it just as much. It had been ages since she had been touched and that was fine because she didn’t want anyone to touch her but Harry. His hands were warm and felt so good on her back. Even through her dress. Even though it was summer and very warm, she shivered and nuzzled closer. The car was too small and the space between them was too big. “Baby, can we—”

“Yes,” she whispered. It didn’t matter what he asked. She was a yes to anything he said. He groaned into her mouth and slid his hands between them, lifting the skirt of her dress just above her hips so everything was covered but easier to access.

“Kitten,” he moaned when she reached between them as well and fiddled with the button of his jeans. Why on earth would he have a condom? The thought of being with anyone else so intimately was laughable. “I don’t have—”

“I don’t care.”

He groaned again and kissed down the length of her neck, his tongue poking out to lick at the spots he kissed. She thought she was going to pass out, but she didn’t want to miss a second of this feeling. So, she refused to pass out. “I forgot,” he was breathless as he shifted trying to make space between them so he could pull his pants down just a little more, just enough. “Forgot how much I missed this.”

“What did you miss?” She whispered just as breathlessly, her lips against his neck as he reached between the two of them, slid his fingers against her underwear and pushed it to the side. She whimpered at the light friction of his knuckle barely grazing her clit even though it wasn’t his intention.

Harry’s moans were nearly obscene. They turned her to jelly. “I missed everything, kitten. Everything.”

She shivered again at his response. When she felt him lining himself up, pressing through her folds so easily because she was already an aching wet mess for him, she cried out again. The electric feeling coursed through her and it wasn’t fair that she made him lose this feeling for three years. “Oh,” she tucked her face into his neck.

“I’m... fuck, baby,” he whispered as the head of his cock slipped deeper inside her. He didn’t want to know if she had sex while he was gone. In his mind he was the only person that got to be inside her like this—to feel her like this. His voice was raspy. Not even a whisper really. “I’m not...” his other hand that wasn’t helping her slip further down on him cupped the back of her neck. “S’not going t’last...” He couldn’t even give a time frame because he was so far gone. “S’been...”

She didn’t want to know how long it had been for him. The idea he had sex with someone else would probably make her inconsolable while he was inside her and it wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own. She shook her head and kissed the space just below his ear that used to drive him crazy. “I don’t mind,” she promised.

“God,” he closed his eyes and pressed his face to the front of her chest. Her dress was still in the way, but he wanted to rip it off her. He couldn’t because as much as he was enjoying this—and yes, he would have loved to feel her nipples in his mouth—he refused the risk of anyone seeing her naked like that. This was already bolder than anything they had ever done before—and the intimacy of seeing her fall apart was for him only. A possessive stance he would never let go of.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. It was too hot in the car; her skin was damp with sweat from pressing so close to Harry and the exertion of fitting in the small space between him and the steering wheel. She wanted nothing more than to stay glued to Harry like that, his dick deep inside her for as long as she lived. They really were two puzzle pieces just meant to fit together. For a brief moment she paused the way she was moving slowly up and down his cock; hoping that maybe she would just die in that car because at least this would be the last thing she ever did. Their breathing stilled, quieted. He tilted his neck back, smiled as he gazed up at her.

“You’re so beautiful, kitten,” he whispered.

It was embarrassing that she could come that quickly and that hard from just his compliment and he wasn’t even moving inside her.

She gasped so loudly. Her whines and moans releasing from her without warning. She felt distraught and whole. It was practically primal the way she started to bounce up and down again, only ever so slightly, her legs shaking to find purchase on the side of his seat near the door and dodging the seatbelt holder with her knee. It wasn’t conducive to do this here but what choice did they have when they couldn’t wait a second longer?

“Oh my God, fuck, kitten,” he groaned, wrapping his arms tight around her waist, kissing at her throat and the exposed cleavage he did have access too. He met her greedy little bounces to prolong the euphoria that was coursing through her, making her clench around his cock so hard he thought he was going to exist outside of his body. “Baby, I can’t pull out,” he warned her.

They were young, but not in high school young anymore. Getting pregnant wasn’t their worst fear anymore as it was their first go around leading to her going to the doctor and asking for birth control. In fact, getting pregnant probably didn’t even crack the top ten. But even still... “Pill,” she rasped. “Please,” she begged.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned. His hand slid beneath her dress. He pressed the tip of his finger directly on her clit and rubbed perfect little circles on it.

So perfectly, she was going to explode again. The fireworks had nothing on her. “Oh my God, please,” she cried. The plead, the feel of her squeezing around him again, the heat of her and the car... all of it was a heady combination that left Harry completely useless as he finished inside her at the exact moment that she dropped her face to his shoulder again and fluttered around him. As Harry finally released a breath, he had been holding for three years it seemed, he found she was still trying to squeeze her thighs around him to savor the pleasure. He couldn’t blame her. All he wanted to do was make her come over and over.

There were a lot of firsts they shared over their relationship, and Harry was so grateful to have another even after all the time between them. His body twitched as she stayed in place, her breathing finally slowing. Harry felt hot, too hot but didn’t dare remove her from his body. He held her to him as he shifted more, her bum bumped into the car horn. She giggled once and Harry smiled. His breathing slowed, following hers.

The car was silent except for their labored breathing. They were young when they had sex back then. They thought it was good back then. But it didn’t compare to that. She felt a wave of worry that he had practiced all while she was gone. The same worry went right through him nearly at the same time. Maybe she sensed it because he relieved her with one sentence. “I read an embarrassing number of books with scenes like the one we just reenacted.”

Harry sighed with relief; his nose pressed to her ear. His lips brushed her temple and he spoke quietly. “Send me every single page y’read, kitten.”

She giggled making her clench around him as he softened. He groaned involuntarily. He didn’t want to leave her body. Terrified it would never be like this again. As he started to move, she stopped him. “Um... Do you have a towel?” She whispered; her cheeks probably would have flushed asking the question, but it was impossible to tell with the endorphins that flooded her blood doing most of the work now.

Harry felt a little stupid at the moment, so he nodded, then shook his head. He didn’t fully understand her question but wanted to try for her.

“Uhh... here,” he reached in the backseat for a T-shirt with the station’s logo on it. As he shifted, she whimpered at the feeling of him moving inside her again. He kept a hand on her dress, right at her hip and rubbed his thumb soothingly against her.

“I can’t use this and then have you wear it around town,” she frowned.

“Baby,” he snickered. “I wouldn’t wear it... in public," he teased. She lightly hit his chest with the back of her hand.

She slowly pulled off him, falling back into the passenger seat, the T-shirt between her legs. She finger-combed her hair as best she could and checked her makeup for obvious smudges. Harry mussed with his hair quickly and then placed his hand on her knee. She held it with both hands, brought his fingers to her lips and kissed his knuckles no less than ten times.

“That was perfect,” she whispered.

Forget her writing, she was her very own poem. He smiled. “Always, kitten.”

*

Harry took the long way back to her apartment. Her grip didn’t loosen around his hand. Not even when he needed to take a turn. When he finally parked, she looked at him expectantly. “I don’t want t’go,” he whispered. “I would quit right now, if I could. I want t’talk all night and tell y’everything and know everything, kitten. M’so...” he shook his head terrified that if he left right now all the progress, everything would be gone. “I missed you so completely baby. I need t’know everything there is t’know ‘bout you and the last three years and all the thoughts y’had. S’not fair and m’so—”

“Harry,” she smiled, squeezed his hand encouragingly. She brought a hand to his chin and rested her forehead against his. “I’ll see you tomorrow; right after your shift, okay?” she kissed him gently on the lips. A soft brush of promising more.

Relief flooded him. “Yeah?” Their mouths were so close as he spoke, his lips touched hers the entire time.

“I’ll be here,” she promised. That little saying, “it was music to his ears,” never really made much sense to him. But right then it did. It made so much sense. She was music. She was the sun. She was fireworks. “Good night, Harry. Have a good shift,” she whispered and pressed her lips solidly against his once more making him feel like he could do anything.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777

most: @harryspirate

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[hotjaneaustenmenpoll]

Semi-Final Two

Propaganda...

Mr Knightley (2009):

Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST

We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma

GIF by dearemma

I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma

I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.

GIF by night-unfurls-its-splendour

Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:

What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)

Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.

And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.

Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley’s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing

GIF by christophernolan

GIF by sashajames

GIF by christophernolan

I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!

Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.

no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!

He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.

Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!

A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!

GIF by myforeverworldofmovie

It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

GIF by molinaesque

I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.  

This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner

Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Y’all are the absolute funniest most of the tags/comments on part 2 were either “oh shit Nancy????” Like we as a collective Steddie hivemind genuinely forgot Steve and Nancy were a Thing for a minute and I think that’s so sexy of us. OR y’all went “OH THANK FUCK ROBIN REMEMBERS” which. Y’all. Y’all don’t understand how little control I actually have over this fic 😂 like genuinely I’m not creating anything, it’s writing itself, I’m just writing the words down. It’s fantastic. 😂 also keep in mind I have a tentative posting schedule of every 4 days so expect something on/around the 16th! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Eddie runs.

He’s terrified and a coward but it’s kept him alive this long so he runs, books it back to his van, ignores Harrington calling out for him, only realizes when he’s most of the way home that he’s still got the ring clenched in his hand.

He stares at it long enough at a stoplight that someone honks at him when it turns green. “What the fuck,” he whispers again, placing it on his desk when he gets home. “What the fuck.”

Wayne knocks on his door then immediately pokes his head in, which completely defeats the purpose of the knock, but Eddie’s door was open anyways. “Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“Y’alright, kiddo?”

“I think I hallucinated.”

Wayne’s silent for a few long moments. “Did you take somethin’? Or are you bein’ dramatic?”

“I didn’t take anything.”

Wayne sighs. “Wanna tell me what you think you hallucinated?”

He’s about to, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite say it. Like there’s a dam at the front of his mouth, and the words can’t break through. He lets out a desperate chuckle and shakes his head, flopping backwards onto his bed. “I don’t even know.”

Wayne raises a brow, but before he can respond, there’s a knock on the trailer door.

Knock is a polite term for it. It’s more like someone’s trying to break down the door with their fist. “Munson!” Someone yells. “Open this door, dammit, or I will drag you out by your ears!”

“Boy,” Wayne says, looking at him. “What the fuck did you get yourself into?”

Eddie groans, grabs his pillow, and screams into it.

When he surfaces for air, Wayne’s gone, talking to the person at the front door. Eddie vaguely recognizes the voice. Female, young, probably someone he has a class with.

Wayne, the traitor, lets her in, and Eddie’s suddenly faced with a furious Robin Buckley. He blinks. “Buckley?”

He tries to think back, but he hadn’t sold her anything recently—or ever, for that matter—so he has no idea why she’s here, looking like she’s about to murder him. “You said you’d listen.”

He blinks again. Sits up to face her. “What?”

“Steve. He told you.”

“Steve- Harrington? Oh, come on, Buckley, are you delusional too?”

Blue eyes narrow at him. “You’ve got a little stick-n-poke on your thigh. It’s an upside down star. It’s crappy ‘cause you did it yourself, but that’s why you love it. He already said your favorite song, so I won’t repeat it. You’ve had a frankly ridiculous crush on him practically since the moment you laid eyes on him. You call your guitar your sweetheart because that’s what your mom called you, and she’s the one who taught you to play.” She crosses her arms. “I can keep going.”

“I suppose you’re from the future, then, too?” Her words catch up to him and he suddenly blanches. “I, uh, I’m not sure about your second point.”

She softens some, which is rather unexpected, but he’s grateful. “Oh, Eddie.” She sits on the edge of his bed. “Me too. It’s alright. I’m sorry, I got upset because you ran, after you told Steve you’d listen, and…” she sighs, looking around his room, before standing when she catches sight of the ring on his desk. She picks it up and studies it. “This is practically all we have left,” she says softly, and Eddie feels like throwing up.

“Because I die?”

She looks at him like she’s seeing a ghost. “Yeah.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

@paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny Phantom Writing Prompt:

When she comes to, a silver haired man with a matching goatee greets her. Kind of. He’s disappointed.

She’s surrounded in neon green and she is so, so, so confused.

——

Her name is-

Well. It was something else.

What matters is that Vlad doesn’t call her by anything other than “Danielle” and “you.”

She thinks if she wasn’t who she is- if Vlad hadn’t ripped her out of her own life, poured her tattered soul into this imperfect body- she’d believe the father like figure he’s poorly pretending to be. But she knows. This is a show she’s watched many times. Vlad, even if she hadn’t had years of actual life and the foreknowledge of Danny Phantom, she’d eventually clock him as a villain.

“You can do it, Danielle.” He says.

“Obey, or suffer the consequences,” she hears. She knows manipulation when she hears it. Vlad thinks it’ll work. After all, little pod baby Danielle would know no different than the confining walls of her room. But she does know, and the voices of her loved ones bolster her in this delicate balancing act.

So, she pretends to let him mold her. Let him shape little Danielle into a puppet he could pilot as he wishes.

To act like her body’s template, but to be obedient in ways Danny would never allow himself to be. To turn trusting blue eyes up towards the drawling billionaire and pretend to take his word as gospel.

In return, he gives her more freedom. He thinks it’s control, that she returns even when he gives her ample chances to leave. She knows it’s a test, and she’s always been good at those.

She collects evidence, slowly. Because Vlad might have overshadowed people and signed their companies over to him, but he was sloppy. He was sloppy and she was a paralegal.

——

Vlad gives her the mission she’s been waiting for. She goes to Danny with a neutral mask and acts like a person who knows nothing of normal social cues.

It’s what Vlad expects of her.

The time is not yet right.

——

So when the time comes, Danielle makes a decision. She was never the baby Dani. She will never be. When she punches Vlad, she tears into him with everything she has. She makes him bleed and she breaks him and she slaps the anti-ghost belt on him to lock his ability. And she breaks more, just to make sure he might not heal all the way, all the while Danny watches in horror.

And then she starts the process of legally beating him up. Danielle bankrupts Vlad in two months with legal fees, and she takes vicious pleasure in rendering him destitute.

Hah. Try creating clones of your one sided love now, you creepy motherfucker.

——

She’s melting. She makes a joke, because Danny looked terrified and she got attached. Well, it’s hard not to get attached, considering he risked his neck for her even after learning she was there to…

Well.

He saves her. She knew he would.

She’s whole again. Stable. But something in her breaks, because she knows, with a sense of unfathomable knowledge, that she will never rid herself of the name Danielle again. She’s bound to this world. The price for her life was an eternity of imprisonment in a realm where she will never see the people she loves again.

——

“I’m not… I wasn’t always Danielle.” She admits to Danny, Tucker, and Sam.

“What does that even mean?”

She sighed, leaning against the window sill.

“The reason I was stable and my… siblings weren’t was because Vlad ripped my soul out from my body and shoved it into the body of a clone. He killed me.”

Danny stuttered to a close. Grief. She smiles at him.

“Technically, I’m older than you and Jazz.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam says, head buried in her hands. Tucker just stares at her.

“Yeah. Me too. But you shouldn’t blame yourself, Danny.” Danielle knows that look on his face. “I hate him, yeah. But… I can’t change it now. So, I’ll see what this world has to offer.”

“I’m sorry,” Danny says to her.

“I get it.”

And she does. Because Danielle knows what it is to die, now. So does he.

So she flips off the window sill, enjoying her always novel powers of flight, and laughs.

“I’ll be Nellie. You can call me Nellie.”

[evilminji]

You know what would be HILARIOUS?

For everyone NOT involved in the situation?

If the Uzumaki, mad lads that they were, seal master's who routinely moon the Shinigami for funsies that they are, got SUUUUUPER drunk? And were like?

"F-! *hic!* FUCK your fancy ass Summons contract Himiko! I got one TOO, you know. A..An' it's TOTALLY better then yours! It's got BLACKJACK! And hookers!" *falls on their face unconscious*

Needless to say? Not their proudest moment. Actually, their kinda deeply embarrassed. But like FUCK ARE THE BACKING DOWN! Their mouths wrote a check their ass can't currently cash... so the only REASONABLE solution? Apologize and tell the truth? Psh! NO.

Break Reality Until It's TRUE.

THEN they weren't technically lying!

They're a GENIUS~☆! :D

And yes, yes this IS normal behavior for them. It's both cultural AND genetic. There was a REASON people were terrified of those insane mother fuckers.

Because? They just? MADE UP a A Summons Contract. With Who? Dunno! We're gonna find out! But it looks right Seals wise! *signs name before anyone with sense can stop them, does the signs, draws blood aaaand?*

POOF!

Nani THE FUCK!? Says local dead Japanese 16th century fisherman who was flying by to visit the Lair of his buddy the 14th century monk. Behold! A FUCKING ZONE GHOST! He is unsummoned before he can react.

The Uzumaki have A Ghost Contract™.

.........th....they may have fucked up.

YOU THINK?

Roars basicly the ENTIRE Elders council. Who FUCKING FELT THAT. Because EVERYONE Felt that. They're SENSOR. That was a HOLE in REALITY that somehow GLOWED like a BEACON of both absolute Nothingness and Death! You TRAUMATIZED THE KIDS, YOU ASSHOLE!

Still....they ARE ninja. And Curious mother fuckers to the last.

So basically EVERYONE and their dog signs it. They somehow get WEIRDER. Bigger Chakra reserves. Obsessive tendencies. Meh, you win some, you lose some.

But? Then they fuckin DIE. (And their WHOLE ASS VILLAGE SHOWS UP IN THE ZONE. OH GOD, WHAT-!?)

And some grave robbing fuck tries to use the Contract. SUPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!

Ghost Uzumaki!

Your literal worst nightmare!

They DO NOT try using it again. It gets sealed DEEP. Until the Hokage gets wind of it. And, of course, Danzo. The Hokage sends Hound. And Team Kakashi on a completely unrelated but nearby "help a farmer" mission. Danzo sends assassins. Because he's fucking awful.

Kakashi gets the scroll.

Yep. Creepy rambling and shit handwriting, def Uzumaki. Time to go.

He gets attacked on the way back to camp. GDI Root. Well, its you or me. Sucks for you, I guess. They fight. They get a lucky shot. He bleeds on the scroll, doesn't notice. But SURELY... SURELY it isn't CROWDED enough with names that the Uzumaki just added a "and anyone who bleeds on THIS part at the bottom _______ plus does the handsigns" towards the end.... RIGHT??

RIGHT?! Look him in the EYES Uzumaki Clan, RIGHT??!

They would prefer not to answer that. The Vibez here are getting REALLY aggressive, you know? >.> It made sense at THE TIME...

So... he goes to summon his Dogs.

And he SURE DOES GET UM.... plus One(1!!!).

Who the FUCK is this glowing green dog? A puppy? Kakashi seeing the dimwitted looking little thing about to get STABBED tries to rescue it. It takes one look look at him (worried for it), the other dogs (growling at his enemies, fighting) and... turns around, shifting as it does, to HUNDREDS of times it's previous size.

Like an Akimichi transformation.

A sudden, hulking, green WOLF with red glowing eyes and killing intent that would Rival a demon's. The howl is unearthly. It joins the fray like a meat thresher.

Then pops back to a floating, tongue lolling, dimwitted pup the second everything is done.

G...God boy?

Far be it for KAKASHI to fear a dog, no MATTER how dangerous. So he carries it back to camp. Where it seems to instant fall in LOVE with Naruto. They become the BEST of friends.

There's frolicking.

Looking down at the pocket with the scroll he reclaimed? Yeah. Yeah that tracks. According to Pakkun, the pup has a "weird, echo-y" accent and is incredibly scatter brained. Training to be a gaurd dog? WAS Training. IS currently... what.

Okay. IS currently the gaurd dog/pet of an Emperor. Because THATS not alarming. Did the Royal family all... wait... he examines the pup again. Transparent. Was it KILLING intent he felt... or a Deathy pressure? Didn't the Uzumaki have Forbidden soul and death seals? It would stand to REASON...

Oh god damn it.

Pakkun. Pakkun please tell me that pup is ALIVE.

(He can not.) (Hilariously? Dispite being TERRIFIED of Ghosts? Naruto is TOTALLY COOL with Zone Ghosts? Don't be MEAN, Sensei! They're just PEOPLE! It's not THEIR fault They're dead! Now GHOSTS? Spooky and EVIL! Totally different.)

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay