#i spent the night with superman | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

too-much-tma-stuff · 9 months ago

Text

Finally getting help (prt 4)

Masterpost

The bats worked through the night, coordinating and researching everything that needed to be done. Distortion showed up on the camera which they assumed was Vlad trying to get in but he didn’t manage it. After he finished trying from multiple angels including somehow from directly above (well Zatana did say invisibility, intangibility, and flight were the minimal powers they should expect from creatures of the infinite realms.) He turned human again and spent a long time banging on their front door.

He tried to call the cops but commissioner Gordon called Bruce directly to get the full story then told Vlad it could be dealt with in the morning. Zatana was also coordinating people heading to Amity, a full on raid of the GIW, and the Fentons.

Batman and Superman were collecting all the information that the raid team was sending out and workshopping public statements they could sent out to the public and the government about the unacceptable things they had found and the steps the JL was taking to fix it. The government was not going to be happy they knew, with the JL ‘over-stepping’ into their business and actually getting the word out about the atrocities a branch of their government and their pet scientists had been planning. The JL needed to get out ahead of it before the narrative could be twisted against them.

It was first thing in the morning when they did a live broadcast from the watchtower with Batman, Superman, and Zatana telling the world about the parallel world existing harmlessly along side their own, and the way the government tried to exploit it. The atrocities committed under the name of the Anti-Ecto acts with the ignorance of the public as a cover.

It was at the same time that Constantine, Dick, and Cas were raiding the Fenton’s home. Of course they were armed, but so were the bats, and they were used to fighting people who were armed. It wasn’t a particularly hard fight.

A redhead was sitting wide eyed at the kitchen table. “Can’t we just have one normal day!” She suddenly snapped but she was glaring at her parents, standing up and slamming her hands on the table. “First you send Danny away with Vlad even though you KNOW they hate each other and it’s a school day and now this! What did you do to bring the heroes down on us!?”

“I don’t know Jazzybear!” Jack half whined as he was forced into power supressing cuffs to neutralize his minor super strength and sat down in the living room.

“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding, don’t worry sweetie,” Maddie added, both of them were dressed in jump suits which did not help their supervillain vibes.

“it’s not a mistake mate, you’ve been messing with shit you really shouldn’t. And that portal in your basement is a fucking beacon welcoming a war. You’ve gone unchecked for too god damn long, we’re taking over things now.” Constantine told them before stalking down into the basement with Tim on his heels, Batman would be joining them as soon as they were done their press conference.

Cas stayed to watch the parents and Dick approached Jazz gently. “Hey can I talk to you in private please? It’s about your brother,” He said gently and she stiffened immediately. Looking at him in a way that made him feel like she could see straight into his soul and froze him to the spot. After a moment though she just sighed and nodded, beckoning to him to follow her upstairs, to a room that was probably Danny’s not her own. She sat on his bed and grabbed a bear that had been sitting on the edge, waving for him to sit at the desk.

“So, what do you know?” She asked with a sigh.

“Well, last night Vlad took Danny to a Wayne Gala, one of Bruce’s daughter Cas is really good with body language and clocked that something was wrong so she and one of the other kids got him away from Vlad and out of the party. I guess he really needed some adult support because he broke down and told them a lot, about the Phantom thing, the ghosts and… something you’re not going to like. But first I want you to know he’s safe, Bruce Wayne is a licensed foster parent and he’s taking good care of Danny, you can come live with them too if you want.

“We’re going to deal with the ghosts and the GIW and everything else now, I can’t promise by the end of this you won’t need somewhere else to go. I have a feeling if Batman and the Martian family have anything to say about this your parents will end up in prison for their unethical experiments.”

“As long as Danny is okay,” Jazz said firmly. “I was only staying to take care of him anyway, just get me emancipated and a scholarship for Gotham U so I can study while still being close to him I’ll be fine. I’m almost 18 as it is.”

Dick nodded, she was a smart and driven girl, she knew what she wanted, he could respect that. “Now, the thing you won’t like…” he trailed off and took a deep breath. “Danny is pregnant.”

“What!?“ Jazz blanched, gaping at him for a long minute. “That can’t be right! I mean I knew he was trans but he’s usually only interested in girls, how would he even-“ She cut off her eyes widening. “It was Vlad wasn’t it?” She gritted out with an expression the promised excruciating violence.

“Yes,” Dick said shifting awkwardly in his chair.

“Right.” Jazz said and got up, coldly calm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” She grabbed a baseball bat from next to Danny’s bed that seemed to be glowing slightly then marched to the other side of the room, opened a cabinet and pulled out two odd looking guns. Before Dick could say much of anything she had vaulted out of the window and taking off down the street.

“Oh dear,” Dick muttered faintly before heading back downstairs. “Hey Cas can we turn on the news, some sort of local station?” He asked. Cas nodded and searched around for the remote, turning it on to find the channel was already on local news.

Vlad was already on there, talking about how it was awful Bruce Wayne had Kidnapped a local child Danial Fenton, and he could not be allowed to get away with this just because he was rich! But that didn’t last long, they watched for a few minutes before a blur of red hair and blue rushed past the camera.

“YOU TOUCHED MY BROTHER YOU CREEP!” Jazz said as she came out swinging and she must have quite the arm because her first swing sent him nearly flying off the stage. He scrambled to get up as she lunged at him again.

“Now Jasmine you’ve clearly been misinformed, I didn’t do anything-“ His muffled voice was cut off as she swung the bat again and he yelped as she hit him in the stomach.

“YOU GOT HIM PREGNANT! YOU DID THIS! YOU SHOULD BEHIND BARS NOT BEHIND A PODIUM YOU FROOTLOOP!” She shrieked as she swung again and this time he managed to dodge. The cameras following them as Jazz chased him down the street, the sound of his supplications and her shrieking fading out as they became more and more distant.

It took a frantic moment for the camera angle to switch to something else, maybe a drone, which was able to follow them down the street.

“You Don’t UNDERSTAND! I didn’t want to hurt him! I just wanted a perfect son! If he had just agreed to be my son none of this would have happened! When I knew it failed I told him to let them die!” Vlad yelled at her, though that did NOT seem to comfort Jazz at all. She had devolved into shrieking book titles like curses as she chased him with the bat and shot at him with the guns though her aim didn’t seem very good.

Well they had him admitting to it on camera now. As he watched a new actor joined the fray, a girl in a red jumpsuit holding a blaster.

“You did what to Danny!?” She demanded as she pointed the blaster at Vlad.

“Oh cheespuffs!” Vlad breathed, his eyes widening as Jazz trailed off letting who must be Red Huntress take over the chase as Vlad shouted about how he had made her! He had given her her weapons she couldn’t use them against him! Which did not seem to be stopping her.

The camera fuzzed out for just a second and then Valery was chasing a ghost with red eyes and a white outfit. Cas was laughing silently at the show and both of the Fenton parents seemed to be in shock. A few minutes later Jazz walked back in through the front door looking tired.

“Turn that off please,” she sighed as she put the bat down.

“Of course,” Cas agreed and picked up the remote again, turning off the tv.

“Vlad didn’t actually do that, did he Jazzy?” Jack asked softly, he sounded so hurt, as if he had any fucking right!

Jazz looked at him blankly. “How many times have we tried to warn you about him? How many times has Danny told you he didn’t feel safe with Vlad? But as usual you couldn’t see past your own desires. I’m going to go see if the trenchcoat guy needs any help getting into your files,” She sighed before vanishing downstairs.

Dick glanced at Cas, and then followed them, she would have no trouble watching the Fentons and staying quiet whereas Dick felt like he was about to explode. Batman joined them before long and between the three of them they shut the bulkheads on the portal and locked them, secured dangerous chemicals and devices, and downloaded everything they could. There were plenty of prototypes and blueprints, and stuff that could generously be called research.

It was obvious these people were geniuses but it was even more obvious that at some point they had become careless and obsessive. Half of the writing on the blueprints wasn’t legible, dangerous chemicals were not in proper containment, and the weapons were not locked up. Looking at all of this it wasn’t surprising that two of the people they had been involving in their research suffered exposure, it was a surprise more hadn’t. It was easy to tell when Bruce came down he was horrified, it was in the way he froze when he saw the lab, as if his brain was struggling to process just how irresponsible the Fenton parents had been.

“You must be Jazz, it’s nice to meet you. Danny speaks highly of you,” He finally rebooted to say when she waved at him.

“I love my little brother, I always did the best I could to keep him safe from… all this,” Jazz said gesturing at the lab with a sigh. “I wish it had done any good.”

“You did plenty of good,” Dick put in. “Trust me, to a kid having someone care about them can make all the difference.

“All those nights I patched him up after he came back from fighting ghosts. He healed fast but still. I can’t believe… he’s already been through so much and we knew Vlad was up to something! Ellie said she was our cousin but she looked just like him, I should have kept a closer eye on-” She cut off and shook her head. “He’s a good kid, of course if he couldn’t give the babies up, even if it would be better for them if he did. I hope he knows I’d support him either way, I hope he didn’t not tell me because he thought I’d be upset at Him.”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Dick assured her gently. “Being a big sibling is hard, I know. But trust me you’re doing a great job, better than I did with my brothers,” he said, patting her shoulder. “You can ask him yourself later though. We have a lot to get done today to make sure he’s safe.”

She nodded stubbornly and doubled down on her work, directing them occasionally to where she knew they’d find more weapons or logs. She knew her way around the lab to a disturbing extent.

Bruce and Dick both got a notification from Agent A saying that after a substantial sleep in Danny had woken up and was having breakfast. He seemed worried about the family but he was taking it alright, especially since he knew they were busy people. It did motivate Dick to clear things up as soon as they could so that they could get back to Danny though. The last thing he needed was More stress!

They had plenty of evidence of the Fenton parents breaking the law to call the police and have them taken away which gave them all the time they needed to strip the house. They got everything they could and decided to leave Constantine at the house to watch the portal until they could figure out how to shut it down completely without causing any damage. It seemed unstable so they didn’t want to risk it just now, especially without Danny’s input because according to Jazz Danny had made genuine connections in the Infinite Realms.

They wrapped up this stage of the investigation before dinner after being up for about 36 hours. Of course they weren’t Done, there was still plenty to do investigating the government, how they’d gotten away with this and if they had any other nasty tricks up their sleeve. They’d have to manage any backlash from this unilateral move, and they’d have to figure out what to tell the public about Danny since Bruce would be fostering him. But all that could be done after having a family dinner with their new brother and a nap.

part 5

@blacksea21090 @zline @sebas-nights @littlefeather345 @isnt-that-grape @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @shadowkatt99 @fantasticstoryteller @sithlordchimchnga @fanfictionforme2 @iamalittlefangirl25 @bushbees @yotsubaayase @genius11rare @thomasdimensor @ultimatebluff @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @vivavelle @phoenixdemonqueen @jaggedheart11 @amyheart19 @ashenfairytale @thedragonqueen1998 @quotesandanime @j-joshi @unknown707 @baby-glowstick @okami-love @felicityroth @blackroserelina @wanderwithwings @shephardking @stargirl1331 @supermcraig @tkiesai @thegatorsgoose @mushroomymoss @llavalada @drownthesun @theraccoonempire @ark12 @telidina @dasha022

Please subscribe to the masterpost everyone! the tag list is getting a bit to big for me to manage ^^;

1K notes · View notes

gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 months ago

Text

The Return of Superman- Mark

(cw: f!reader called “mama”, a child duh)

Mark had spent a good few decades with a lot of his life documented on cameras. There were music videos, behind the scenes vlogs, cameras, talk shows, selfies, you name it- he did it. There was however, one area of his life that wasn't show or documented for the public. That was you, your marriage, and his son.

There had of course been the announcement on SM's end about Mark being in a relationship, then there was SM the announcement five years later about the two of you being married paired with a post from Mark with a wedding picture of the two of you where your face wasn't seen, and then the last announcement 3 years ago announcing the birth of his son.

Mark completely understood and agreed with your apprehension to show aspects of your life to the public, especially regarding your son. There was the occasional post with you and you can recall the uproar it caused across social media when Mark finally posted your full face on his public account. It was complete madness. People had managed to track down your place of work and even found other pictures of you from your friend's account. You had reason to be apprehensive regarding the privacy of you family.

However, as your son got older, you and Mark got more comfortable sharing more and more about your life, still being mindful of your privacy. So when Mark's managers called and mentioned his own episode on The Return of Superman, you had both discussed it and cautiously agreed with a few conditions. Conditions that were met with no argument since Mark was such a big celebrity to lock in.

Mark was sitting in the confessional, the familiar black curtain behind him as he introduced himself to the camera, "uh yeah, hi. My name is Mark Lee, I've been a member of NCT since 2016. My wife and I have been married for almost 9 years and our son is 3 years old."

He pauses as he listens to a producer as a question. He chuckles and shakes his head, "My son and I spend a lot of time together, but loves his mom. I try to take him out for some father and son bonding, but he cries for mom after an hour, when he play together he always involves her. It's great, I obviously love her too, but I think these few days the two of us will be kind of rough."

The scene cuts to the cameras panning over the space of yours and Mark's home as the commentators laugh and predict what they think will happen.

Mark is shown sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly before putting on his glasses and heading for his son's room. You had left the night before for a much needed girl's weekend with friends. You waited until your son was gone, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses as he slept in his toddler bed before sneaking out of the room and bidding Mark goodbye with his own barrage of kisses and watery eyes. You knew Mark would be fine alone. He was a good dad and his confidence had skyrocketed once his son had grown out of the shaky steps phase.

"Wow, that is such a cool boy room!" One of the commentators marveled as the camera in Mark's son’s room showed the room covered in Spider-man. He had Spider-man sheets, blankets, wall stickers, toys, books- everything.

Mark smiled softly at the sight of his son sprawled across his little bed, still deeply asleep. Mark made his way to the kitchen and began making breakfast. He turned on the rice maker and began cracking eggs into the pan, watching tiredly as they turned from translucent to white.

One commentator cleared her throat, "this is interesting. Isn't it well-known that Mark can't cook eggs? I wonder if he's gotten better or his son likes them?"

The scene shows Mark and his son sitting at the dining table, his son blinking slowly and using both his hands to keep his head up. Mark laughs softly, scooping up a spoonful of rice and fried egg to feed his son. Usually, he'd be able to feed himself but this morning he's just too sleepy and Mark admittedly likes babying him. He is still a baby.

His son tiredly chews, his eyebrows furrowing and his face falling into one of confusion. He opens his eyes fully as he leans away from the next spoonful of food heading for him. "What's that?" his little voice asks as his finger points at the egg.

"It's eggs and rice, bub. Say ah," Mark instructs.

"Mama made it?" his son asks while turning his cheek away from the spoon.

"No, I made it," Mark replies, deciding to instead take the bite of food for himself.

His son scrunches his face up and takes the fried egg from his bowl and places it into Mark's, "yucky, Appa. No thank you!"

Mark tilts his head back with a roll of his eyes as the commentators laugh and compliment his son's good manners despite him calling the egg 'yucky.'

The scene cuts to Mark and his son standing in the entryway of your home, putting on their shoes. As Mark opens the door, his son freezes, "is Mama sick?"

Mark is hesitant to respond, "no, Mama isn't here. Remember it's going to be just me and you until tomorrow night?"

He can hear the familiar catch of his son's breath as he nervously looks up at Mark, "she's ok? She's coming tomorrow?"

Mark feels his heart melt, and the commentators all aww and coo over how cute the 3 year old is. Mark crouches down in front of him, picking him up and hosting him onto his hip, "of course she's coming back. Come on, we're going to go ride bikes at the park and get dinner with uncles later. Does that sound fun?"

His son sniffles and nods, "and ice cream?"

Mark laughs, "yes, and ice cream."

The camera crew follows Mark and his son around the park, watching as Mark teaches the boy to pedal and steer the bike. He eventually gets the hang of it and begins riding around on his own with a big smile. His little laughs and giggles fill the air as he zooms in every direction much faster than Mark or any of the cameramen expected, especially the cameraman tasked with following the boy around with his heavy camera.

It's all going well, no tears, no complaints, not even a mention of you, until the tricycle comes to an abrupt stop and turns when it gets too close to the edge of the grass. Mark sprints over the second he sees the tricycle teeter over and makes it to his son before the tears start.

He keeps calm as he looks his son over for any wounds, finding none and immediately being filled with relief. His son must have just gotten scared from the fall. Nonetheless Mark holds him close and rocks him as he cries into Mark's t-shirt.

"I want Mama," his son cries.

"I know buddy, I'm sorry. Does it hurt anywhere?"

His son continues to cry and shakes his head, his sobs turning into sniffles as he calms down. Mark pushes the hair away from his son's forehead and presses a long kiss to the sweaty skin, "you are being so brave, bub. I know it was scary, huh? I am so proud of you."

"And Mama too?" his son asks with watery eyes.

"Yes, and Mama too. You can tell her all about it when she comes home tomorrow. You can tell her that you heal fast like Spider-man."

His son perks up and his eyes brighten, "like Spider-man?"

Mark nods and stands, with his son in one arm and the tricycle in the other, "Oh yeah, big guy. Just like Spider-man, whenever he gets scared he keeps going, right?"

This sets his son off on his little tangent about Spider-man fighting the Green Goblin, then Doc Oc, and how he uses his webs and how the bad guy loses and Spider-man always wins.

The scene cuts to Mark in the confessional, "I really have enjoyed my time on the show, but I may be worse than my son. If you have me back, can she stay too? Please."

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee fluff #mark lee scenarios #dad!nct #tros-nct

592 notes · View notes

long-live-astronerd-ghost-king · 1 year ago

Text

DPxDC prompt: “Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead” or

Batman Has An Adoption Problem but Phantoms have a Babysitting Problem

~~~~

Alicia lives in Smallville. Danny Fenton spent every summer visiting his aunt.

And until his fourteenth birthday, Danny had no problem with hanging out with a strange child of the Kent family. After all, the Fentons were also considered freaks. He was getting good money for babysitting because he didn’t ask Martha too many questions.

So this is what do the rest of the Justice League see when they bump into the usually newbie-friendly Superman and the Phantom in the hallway:

Superman: "You're like my own personal brand of Kryptonite."

Phantom: ~aww~

Superman: Not in a cute way. You literally make me sick! Have you ever heard of social distance?

Phantom: No :) Tell me, ~I’m dying to know.~

Superman: I hate you!

~~~~

Meanwhile in Gotham,

Dan Phantom is dragging Robin by the neck from Killer Croc’s lair.

Dan: Look, punk, your mother won’t pay me if you don’t live to be a grown-up. Be a good assh...assassin and don't try to play with someone who’s out of your league.

Robin: Fuck off, I am not a baby to listen to a nanny. I'm 10!

Dan:...I’ll call Alfred and tell him you’re fooling around on school night.

Damian: Don't you dare!

#dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc memes #dp x dc meme #dan phantom #babysitting phantom #danny phantom #superman #Damian Wayne #Damian al Ghul

3K notes · View notes

kizzer55555 · 7 months ago

Text

DPxDC: Jarro Adopts an Alien

Ok, so Danny has a space obsession and a protection obsession (I headcanon that as a halfa, Danny has two obsessions like all Halfas do which makes them unique to other ghosts.) and so while he can get his fill protecting people in Amity, he struggles with his space obsession. Sure, he can look up everything he can about space and the stars on the internet. He can stay up until 2 am looking at the stars (who needs sleep? He’s a ghost, he can go days, or even weeks without sleep if he wants, same with a lack of air or food.) but it’s just not enough. He craves to learn more, see more. Just as Dani gets that itch to travel, Danny wonders. What would it be like to see the stars up close? Are they really as hot as a dragons fire breath? Hotter!? Or maybe they are so hot they are cold. What does it look like to see plasma dancing across the surface, or touch the gasses of Jupiter? Does Pluto have ice caves like the far frozen? How many planets are actually out there? What about Mars. There’s a whole species living there with a language and culture Danny can’t even fathom! Oh what he wouldn’t give to talk with martian manhunter or Superman.

And what’s stopping him from exploring this? He can fly. He doesn’t need air. He can go intangible if it gets too hot and he’s practically immune to the cold. He wants to touch a space rock! See if they are smooth because there is no wind or earth to rub against them and erode the surface. He wants to see what planets they come from. What minerals they might have. He wants to know if there are currents in space. All of these things are right there just above the atmosphere. Surely it couldn’t hurt to take a quick peek. So he does. During a particularly bad day Danny flies as fast as he can until the earth’s gravity looses its effects. Until his hair is floating as of it’s in water even more than normal. Until he can feel when breathing no longer became a choice (still not necessary though). And it…was beautiful. To be surrounded by space. To see the earth like this. Pictures just didn’t do it Justice. He flew across the solar system and as he passed planets, he longed to fly through them. To search every crevice and learn their secrets. But he had a bigger prize in mind at the moment. The crown jewel of their universe. The closest star he could find. The sun.

Danny was mesmerized. The plasma really did dance across the surface. Like a never ending performance of science and beauty. There were sparks that few in arcs. Danny flew down and played in them, making a game to see how many he could fly under. His ghost core purred in delight. His obsession had never been more satisfied. He spent hours out there. Just exploring what his solar system had to offer. So when he returned? He couldn’t just forget. Pictures and online science theories had nothing on the real thing. He wanted to explore some more. So he did. Every night he would go out and explore the cosmos. Flying from planet to planet. (Either the Martians were still around and Danny made friends with them, even learning their language, or he just looks at their ruins to learn as much as he can). And with both obsessions now being filled, Danny is more settled. More confident. And he can focus better. Everyone notices the change, even his teachers. They just think that he’s paying more attention to his education now. He’s even better during his ghost fights.

But Danny can fly awfully fast. And he soaks up information even faster. Soon his trips take longer and longer as he flies further out. Sometimes he can barely make it back in time for school. And he can't go every night. Sometimes the ghosts won’t wait for daytime so he has to make sure the town will be safe in his absence. Although he’s been able to take more trips ever since Valerie joined the vigilante ranks. But still, he’s getting farther and farther from earth each night. Until one day he’s visited every planet, every star, every comet or debris in their solar system. Which would be fine. He could deal with that if that was all there was. But it wasn’t. Danny saw the stars just out of reach. He saw places the Milky Way was leaning towards. He saw just the barest hints of new solar systems with new planets and stars. And he knew of legends from lanterns that they had posted online. Heard tales from some scientists that have made better telescopes. And his core itches. It aches to know more. See more. Yet he can't go further. And this puts him in a sort of depression. Suddenly he’s back to his old self. Lagging behind. Distracted. Zoning out. Crashing into a few more buildings during ghost attacks. Yet he tries so hard to be satisfied with what he has. He can still fulfill his obsession…it’s just more like chewing on a granola bar rather than eating a decent meal. He’s almost becoming lethargic.

So one day he goes to Frostbite to see if there’s anything he can do to lessen the effects. But the yeti just takes one look at him and gives him the infimap. And suddenly Danny is in a whole new universe in seconds. The planets are purple. The stars are blue. He’s pretty sure there are furry blob-like creatures living on one of those planets. And suddenly he gets that itch, but holding the infimap, he knows he had time, so he lets himself go.

And for a while it’s good. great even. Since he can’t keep asking the yetis for the infimap, he goes over to Wulf to see if he’s up for an adventure. Most of the time he is and they go exploring the galaxies together. And then Wulf had the genius idea of teaching Danny how to make portals. It took a long time but soon, he could concentrate the surrounding ectoplasm enough to weaken it and pull. It took a while since Danny didn’t have ecto claws and would have to use his pure will. But this would allow him to follow his obsession anytime, anywhere. So it was only a matter of time. And once he figured it out? It was like something was unlocked. Danny had never before understood how Ellie could travel so much. But now he did. That feeling when you discover something new. When you add to your reservoir of knowledge. When the patterns in the universe just click. There is nothing Danny could compare it to. And to explore that whenever he wanted? It was so freeing. While Wulf sometimes still joined Danny’s adventures, Danny did most of his explorations by himself.

He meets various planets and aliens. So many different cultures. He learns thousands of languages. Tries all kinds of foods (and it’s a good thing his ghost self has an iron stomach and he’s basically poison resistant.) even found a whole comet where blood blossoms grew. (Which he most definitely avoided). And wasn’t that fascinating? To find out they were from space.

And then during his travels one day he met a space alien starfish.

It was actually a funny story. A meteor shower was about to attack a planet of talking blue monkey creatures with 4 arms. Danny immediately started diverting them and was soon joined by some lantern corps (which his inner fanboy wanted to talk to so bad.). And a tiny starfish in a…Robin uniform? Oh and the starfish could apparently do martial arts which was interesting to watch him karate chop a meteor. He could also talk directly into Danny’s head which the halfa found more interesting. So they got to talking and apparently his name was Jarro. He seemed to be helping the lantern corps as a ‘proxy from earth’ to make better use of his skills.

Danny would run into Jarro a few more times. Sometimes he was with Lanterns and sometimes he would just be exploring the galaxies. They started forming a pretty strong friendship and Danny would start seeking out the starfish alien to travel with him. He knew all kinds of space facts. Apparently he had an eidetic memory. When they explored, sometimes Jarro would just stick to part of Danny. Wrapped around his arm, his waist, sometimes just sticking to his back like a strange backpack. But they always had fun.

So Danny was happy. He could fulfill both obsessions and got a space pal. Everything was great!

Until the GIW caught him.

It would probably be the worst day of his life. There was an explosion in the lab. Something set up by them after they realized Danny frequented that place often. So they set a trap and blew it up. Thankfully, Jazz was at college during this but both his parents were home. When the explosion went off, Danny had tried putting a Barrier around them all. It took everything he had to maintain it. That’s how they found out he was phantom. Danny had a few moments where his parents said they accepted him but he couldn’t hold the barrier for long. His parents said that they loved him and then everything went green. He woke up in a lab, tired and injured. His only saving grace being that he remained in phantom form. And he was determined to remain so.

Danny’s time at the GIW was a haze but eventually, he managed to escape. Bleeding, and tired, and still recovering from the burns in the explosion, Danny made a portal straight to Amity. Only when he got there, it was a ghost town. Streets were empty, buildings were boarded up. Even the Nasty Burger was deserted. As for his house, there was nothing but a crater left and some scattered debris. Danny looked everywhere but there was no one. No Jazz. No Sam. No Tucker. No one. and he was tired. And everything hurt, and he needed a friend. Someone he could trust. So in a daze he made a portal and tried to just project safe. Safe safe safe. Somewhere he knew he would be protected. And so Jarro got a surprise when his space buddy suddenly popped out of a green portal, bleeding green and clearly passed out. He didn't know what to do. He didn’t know how to help him. But Jarro knew someone who would.

So with a speed never before seen from a tiny starfish, he flew to earth. Bringing his friend straight to his father. Because surely batman could help!

And with his appearance, the green blood, the knowledge of space facts. The lack of wanting to talk about where he came from (and the nightmares crying out for his parents). This is how the bats became convinced that Jarro brought them an injured alien.

#Dpxdc #dcxdp #Kizzer55555 ideas #Danny has space and protection obsession.#Danny can make portals.#Good parents Fenton. But they die. (Sorry.)#Danny and Jarro are space brothers #The bats think Danny is an alien. Danny is unaware of this. Actually Danny is unconscious. He’s not aware of anything.#Danny is very confused why he wakes up in a mansion with a billionaire.#Amity Parkers have slowly been moving away because of ghost attacks. But at the time it was manageable.#When the Fentons house exploded and caused the first casualties everyone evacuated. Making Amity basically get shut down.#Amity becomes a literal ghost town.#Jazz Sam and Tucker think Danny died in the explosion.#Jazz was actually there. She got caught in the edge of the portal explosion which wasn’t as powerful as the core of the blast.#Instead of killing her it changed her into a halfa. So now she has to figure out new ghost powers while processing the death of her family.#(She is put into foster care where she meets a certain speedster that also has red hair.)#Ellie learns of Amity but keeps traveling. She hates staying in one place and focusing on her obsession helps her grieve.#(Her other obsession is family.)#Jazz has never met Ellie.

618 notes · View notes

librababe99 · 2 months ago

Text

Gravity of You

cw: MDNI, 18+, Clark Kent, Fem!Reader, Friends to lovers, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) word count: 3.1K summary: In the quiet heart of Metropolis, there's more to Clark Kent than meets the eye—especially when it comes to the love he shares with you.

A/N: I’ve got a soft spot when it comes to Clark and just wanted to drop my own little fic into the tumblrsphere🤭 plus I’m so excited for the new movie next year! I really looking forward to seeing David as Superman <3

(DC masterlist)

It had been a quiet evening in Metropolis, the kind that clung to the final moments of summer, thick with the sweet fragrance of freshly cut grass and the distant hum of the city streets. The sky above shimmered with the last glow of twilight, fading into the velvet blue of early night. You had just finished work at the Daily Planet, shoulders heavy from the day's demands. But there was a gentle excitement bubbling under your skin because tonight, Clark was coming over.

He had been dropping hints all week about needing a quiet night together, just the two of you. And truthfully, after the nonstop churn of Metropolis, the idea of being alone with him was the only thing that had kept you going through the long, drawn-out workdays. The way his soft blue eyes would meet yours over the rim of his glasses, promising something far more intimate than words could convey—it was intoxicating.

As you stepped into your apartment, the warm glow of the setting sun bathed the living room in golden light. The soft cotton of your dress clung to your body as you walked toward the window, pulling it open to let the breeze in. The sound of traffic echoed faintly from below, but it was distant, barely there—just like the world would soon be when Clark was with you.

You turned on a few lamps, casting a dim, intimate glow throughout the space. A bottle of wine sat on the kitchen counter, breathing in the open air, and your favorite record was spinning softly on the turntable. Tonight was going to be special; you could feel it in the air.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door—firm, yet soft, as if the person on the other side was holding back from using too much force. Your heart skipped a beat as you crossed the room, smoothing your dress out before reaching for the handle. As soon as you opened it, there he was.

Clark stood in the doorway, his large frame filling the space like he belonged there. He was wearing one of his usual button-downs, but the top two buttons were undone, revealing just a hint of the smooth skin underneath. His hair, tousled from the breeze, was just begging to be touched. Those piercing blue eyes of his softened when they met yours, a slow, easy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and rich.

"Hey yourself," you replied, stepping back to let him in.

As he moved past you, you could feel the heat radiating off his body. There was always something about Clark that made the room feel smaller, like his presence filled every corner, every inch of space. Maybe it was because you knew who he truly was, or maybe it was just the raw power that he seemed to hold back every time he touched you—either way, it sent a shiver down your spine.

He glanced around the room, taking in the soft lighting, the music, and the wine. "Looks like you were expecting me," he teased, his eyes flicking back to yours.

"I might've been," you said, closing the door behind him. "Did you want a drink?"

Clark shook his head slightly. "Not right now," he murmured, his voice deepening as his gaze dropped from your eyes to your lips. "I had something else in mind."

You swallowed hard, the anticipation making your pulse race. You had spent enough time with Clark to know where this was headed, but tonight, there was a different kind of intensity in his eyes. Something that made your stomach flutter and your body heat up all at once.

Without another word, he stepped closer, his broad hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and the warmth of his skin against yours sent a delicious tremor through you. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a brief moment before opening them again to find him staring at you with an almost reverent expression.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent. The kiss was slow, savoring—like he had all the time in the world to explore the taste of your mouth. You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. His body was hard beneath your touch, a solid wall of muscle that made you feel safe and completely overwhelmed all at once.

Clark's hands moved down, sliding along your sides until they rested on your hips. He pulled you closer, pressing you firmly against him as the kiss deepened. His tongue teased yours, coaxing soft whimpers from your throat as the heat between you grew more intense.

You felt the edge of the couch pressing against the backs of your thighs, but before you could react, Clark was lifting you effortlessly, setting you down on the soft cushions. He stood over you for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you, breathless and wanting beneath him.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Why don't you show me?" you whispered back, your voice barely steady.

Clark's eyes flared with something primal, something that made your heart race even faster. He slowly dropped to his knees in front of you, his large hands sliding up your legs, pushing your dress higher as he went. The fabric bunched around your hips, leaving your legs exposed to the cool air. You could feel your skin prickling under his touch, your breath catching in your throat as he leaned in, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thigh.

Your head fell back against the couch, your fingers tangling in the fabric as you fought to keep some semblance of control. But Clark wasn’t making it easy. His lips, warm and teasing, worked their way higher, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"Clark," you gasped, your hips shifting as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them just enough for him to settle between them.

"I want to take my time with you." he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

And take his time he did.

Clark's lips traveled lower, brushing over the sensitive skin at the juncture of your thigh and hip. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, and you couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped your lips. He looked up at you then, his blue eyes dark with want, and the sight of him between your legs, looking up at you with such hunger, nearly undid you.

With deliberate slowness, his hands slid up to your hips, his fingers hooking into the thin waistband of your underwear. He pulled them down, the fabric sliding against your skin in a way that made your body hum with anticipation. The cool air brushed against your exposed skin, heightening the sensitivity of every nerve ending.

And then, Clark leaned in.

The first brush of his mouth against you was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. You arched into him, a soft cry escaping your lips as he kissed you there, his tongue flicking out to taste you. He took his time, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of you like he was committing the experience to memory.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, dark strands as you tugged him closer, needing more. Clark groaned against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through your body. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as his tongue worked its magic, teasing and tasting in a way that had you trembling beneath him.

Every flick of his tongue, every press of his lips, was designed to drive you higher, to push you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, tightening with every breath you took. Clark's name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as your hips moved against his mouth, chasing the release that was building inside you.

Clark responded to your need, his movements growing more insistent, more focused. He knew exactly what you needed, exactly how to push you over the edge, and he was relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure.

It didn’t take long before you were teetering on the edge, your body trembling as the tension built to an almost unbearable peak. Clark's name left your lips in a broken gasp, and then, with one final flick of his tongue, you shattered.

The pleasure washed over you in waves, your body arching off the couch as your orgasm consumed you. Your hands tightened in Clark's hair, holding him close as the sensation rolled through you, leaving you breathless and shaking. He stayed with you the entire time, his mouth never leaving your body as he coaxed every last drop of pleasure from you.

When you finally came down, your body limp and boneless against the couch, Clark pulled away, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you. The sight of him, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire, was enough to send another shiver of want through you.

Without a word, Clark stood, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. You watched, still breathless, as he undid them slowly, one by one, revealing the broad expanse of his chest. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him—he was all muscle, hard and defined, with just the right amount of softness that made you want to touch every inch of him.

When his shirt finally hit the floor, you couldn't help but reach for him, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again. This kiss was different from the first—deeper, more intense, filled with the promise of what he was about to do to you.

His lips moved with a hunger that matched your own, and you could feel the desire coursing through him in the way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his body. His muscles tensed under your fingers, the raw strength of him a constant reminder of just how powerful he was. And yet, there was always such care in the way he touched you, like you were something precious, something he couldn’t afford to break.

Clark’s hands slipped to the hem of your dress, his fingertips grazing your skin as he slowly began to lift it. You raised your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head, and the cool air hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. His eyes darkened as they swept over your body, drinking you in as though it was the first time he’d ever seen you like this.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

The compliment sent a flush of warmth through you, your heart racing as his hands continued their exploration. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as his fingers trailed down your sides, brushing over your breasts and waist, igniting a fire everywhere he touched. The intensity in his gaze made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, like nothing else mattered except the two of you in this moment.

You reached up, your hands tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble beneath your fingertips. The kiss you shared was slow and sweet, but the undercurrent of passion was undeniable, simmering just beneath the surface. The room around you seemed to blur, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the feel of his strong body against yours, the heat between you growing hotter by the second.

“Clark…” His name was a whisper on your lips as he pulled away, his eyes locking with yours, searching for permission. He didn’t need to ask; you could see the need mirrored in his gaze, feel it in every deliberate movement he made.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice low and husky, making your body ache for him in ways you hadn’t known were possible.

“I want you,” you breathed, your hands sliding down his chest, fingers brushing against the waistband of his pants. “I need you.”

Clark’s pupils dilated at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. In one swift movement, he had you back against the cushions, his body hovering over yours, and you could feel the strength in every inch of him as he held himself above you, not letting an ounce of his weight press down on you unless you wanted it.

Your fingers fumbled with the button on his pants, desperate to feel more of him. He helped you, his hands moving quickly to rid himself of the remaining barrier between you. When his pants finally fell to the floor, he stood before you in nothing but his boxers, the fabric doing little to hide the evidence of his desire.

You reached out, your fingers sliding over the waistband of his boxers before gently pushing them down. He groaned as you touched him, his breath hitching as he kicked the last piece of clothing away. When he was finally bare before you, you couldn’t help but pause for a moment, taking in the sight of him—so perfect, so human, and yet so much more.

He knelt back down between your legs, his body hovering just above yours, the heat of him intoxicating as he pressed his forehead to yours. His breath was hot against your skin, and you could feel the tension in him, the way his muscles tensed as he held himself back, waiting for you to give him the signal to go further.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice rough with restraint, but you could see how badly he wanted to lose himself in you. It was the same way you wanted to lose yourself in him.

“Yes,” you whispered, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “I’m sure.”

Clark’s control snapped then, but even in his need, there was a tenderness to the way he touched you, a gentleness that made your heart swell. He pressed his body against yours, his lips finding yours again as he aligned himself at your entrance. The first brush of him against you was enough to make you gasp, your body already so sensitive from his earlier touch.

Slowly, he pushed into you, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to his size. You moaned softly as he filled you, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming in the best possible way. He stilled for a moment, letting you catch your breath, and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, you saw nothing but pure, unadulterated love in his gaze.

“God, you feel incredible,” he groaned, his forehead resting against yours.

“You too,” you breathed, your hands running through his hair as you pulled him into another kiss.

Once he was sure you were ready, Clark began to move, his hips rocking gently against yours. The slow, steady rhythm he set sent waves of pleasure rolling through you, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to that edge. You clung to him, your bodies moving in sync, the world outside fading away as you became lost in each other.

The sounds of your combined moans and heavy breathing filled the room, a symphony of desire that made the heat between you burn hotter. Clark’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, as his pace quickened, his restraint unraveling with each passing second. Every movement, every touch, was driving you higher, the tension building within you like a coil ready to snap.

“Clark,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you felt the tension in your belly tighten, threatening to break. “I’m close…”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice strained as his own pleasure built. His thrusts grew faster, more intense, his control slipping as he chased his own release.

With one final thrust, you shattered. The pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your vision going white as the sensation overwhelmed you. Clark followed soon after, a deep groan escaping his lips as he found his own release, his body tensing above you before he collapsed against you, his chest heaving with the force of it.

For a moment, the world was silent, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside and the heavy breathing between the two of you. Clark stayed inside you for a moment longer, savoring the intimacy of the moment before finally pulling out and collapsing beside you on the couch, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you into his chest.

Neither of you spoke for a while, the comfortable silence filled only with the sound of your breaths slowly returning to normal. You nestled into his side, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a sense of peace.

“You okay?” he finally asked, his voice a soft rumble that you felt more than heard.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “More than okay,” you whispered, your hand resting over his heart. “That was… amazing.”

Clark let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I’m glad I could be of service,” he teased, but there was an undeniable tenderness in his voice.

You shifted slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow to look down at him. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and there was a faint flush to his cheeks. But the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world, made your heart swell with love for him.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

Clark’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in that gentle, familiar way that always made your heart flutter. “Only because of you,” he whispered, his voice soft and sincere.

You leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, and in that moment, everything felt perfect. The world outside could wait—right now, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other under the soft glow of the moonlight streaming in through the window.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

#clark kent #kal el #superman #dc fandom #dc fanfic #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #clark kent x reader #Clark Kent x fem! reader #Superman x fem! reader #superman smut #Clark Kent smut #henry cavill #tom welling #tyler hoechlin #david corenswet #loml <3

230 notes · View notes

lvis44 · 12 days ago

Text

Senna or Superman // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: Language, Angst, Talk of this seasons difficulties, Suggestive dialogue, (Felipe Massa jump scare mention), Not Edited

Word Count: 4.3k+

Summary: Brazil 2024 was unforgiving, but amidst it all some greatness can still be achieved.

Notes: Hey y'all, like I said, I was feeling like typing and needed to work on something different for a second and I think I can speak for all of us that today had me feeling all of the emotions. There's definitely some angst in here but a lot of it is just absolute fluff and reader being an absolute Stan of her boyfriend, bc who wouldn't be if they were dating Lewis Hamilton, lets be real. Also, I've said it once I will say it again, I cannot follow a tense to save my life to ignore that. Kisses xxxx!!!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

You hadn’t gotten much sleep and you were feeling it as you sat in the back of the Mercedes garage. Lewis had been hyper and full of anxious energy when he returned to the hotel last night. He had spent most of the previous day bobbing around the paddock like an energetic child, complaining about the delay in qualifying and trying to convince anyone that would listen to him that they should be sent out to try and put a lap together. He’s in Brazil, he wants to put on a show, but he’d been forced to wait much to his dismay and that had left you having to deal with him. He had been hyper after being so ready to go but never getting the release from his adrenaline and also annoyed that the sport had changed so much, yapping on about how when he first got to F1 they would have sent them out and that danger and adrenaline is a key part of the sport. You tried incessantly to get him to chill but you really had to just let him wear himself out, much like an actual child. It wasn’t until later in the evening, laying against his chest after finally convincing him to try to get some sleep, that you really got the answer to his emotions.

“I’m so excited and honored that I’m driving the MP4 tomorrow, but I’m also nervous. I was so prepared to do it today but having to wait, delaying the gratification, it’s really getting to me.” Lewis whispered into the comfortable silence, surprising you with the unprompted admission.

“It’s even more iconic to do it on race day.” You told him softly, rubbing your hand against his warm chest hoping to lighten the weight of whatever way playing in his mind.

He just hummed in response, evidently deep in his thoughts, his arm tightening around you ever so slightly.

“It’s understandable that you’re nervous Lew, you’re driving a piece of history, not just history to the sport but to your own personal journey and career. You’ve been asked to drive your idols car, the man is the reason you found your calling. Superman or Senna, right?” You kept your voice quiet, realizing that he needed to talk this through a bit more but not wanting to disrupt the peace that had settled around the two of you.

He smiled down at you as he heard the last part of your statement, chuckling lightly, “Superman or Senna, yes indeed.” He trailed off for a moment, the soft smile lingering on his lips as he stared at the ceiling, almost as if reminiscing over those years when those were his two goals in life, back as a young boy in Stevenage. “What’s kinda funny is that it’s not that I’m really nervous about driving the car itself, like I feel confident in that part, I feel like I’m more than capable. It’s that I’m nervous that I don’t deserve this or something, this is a big deal and I would never want anyone to regret this decision or something. I honestly don’t even really know, like I don’t know why they would regret it I just, I don’t know. Just not really sure I’m worthy of this.” He finished his rant, letting out a deep sigh.

Hearing his thoughts caused you to sit up, no longer caring if you broke the peace in the room. You stared directly at him, eyes locked with his that were evidently startled at your abrupt departure from your cuddle.

“Lewis, I need you to listen to me. They chose you, Senna's family specifically chose you and asked you.” You started, poking him in the chest for emphasis before putting the same finger over his lips to shush him when he tried to argue. “They could have asked any of the other drivers on the grid, they could have asked a retired driver, they could honestly have asked whoever the hell they wanted, but no they asked for you. Not the current reigning champion, not the owner of the car, not even a Mclaren driver. They asked you, not only because they recognize your talent but because they see him in you. They see the love and respect that the people of Brazil have for you and they see you return that tenfold. This beautiful country made you a citizen for a reason, they see you carry that flag with the same pride as your own. Lew even Felipe Massa said that you deserve to be the one to drive that car and isn’t he like literally suing you right now?”

You finally let out a huff before the both of you erupt in a fit of giggles, Lewis forcefully pulling you back down to him to wrap you tightly in his arms.

“I didn’t know he said that, honestly rather shocking because yeah, pretty sure he is. But ya know, I heard he’s running out of money.” His lips hold a smirk as he looks down at you before you’re both consumed by another fit of giggles. “Thank you,” He whispers once you’ve both calmed down, his lips against your forehead, “I needed to hear that. You know I get too much in my own head sometimes. Still have a hard time believing that all of this is real after everything I’ve been through, where I came from, ya know?”

“I do,” You say, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips, “you’re allowed to still revel in it, even after all this time. It truly is mental, even if it’s been this way for a while now. And by the way, I’m pretty sure the only reason they would ever regret letting you drive that car is if you crash it into a wall and break it, so just don’t do that and I’m pretty sure everything will be just fine.” You giggle, giving him another kiss.

“Well damn woman, no pressure or anything.” He fakes offence before splitting into a grin with you.

“Hey,” you say, your voice softer again, “I know I’m biassed and all, but know that I can’t think of anyone more deserving of this honor and I am so incredibly proud of you. I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back the tears when I see you in that Mclaren tomorrow. You are an incredibly blessed man but you do not take it for granted and I am honoured that I get to see how incredible you are every single day, as a driver, as a partner, but most importantly as a human. Let yourself enjoy this Lew, you deserve it and I will be there watching in awe.”

“I love you so so much.” He says, his voice thick with emotion as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

“I love you too,” You tell him softly, placing a kiss on his chest where he has squished your face into him, “now get some sleep, you have to be up in a few hours for that stupid early morning quali.”

Lewis had left early in the morning, sneaking out of bed around 3:30 to get ready. Only waking you accidentally when he placed a soft kiss on your forehead as he was leaving. He was apologetic, telling you to go back to sleep and that he would see you at the track. Not that you were able to get much more sleep, needing to get up and get ready yourself if you wanted any chance of making it there on time. When you had finally arrived to the garage, you made sure to perch yourself in the back, trying to stay out of the way of all the busy people rushing around you.You only got to see Lewis for a brief moment, only having enough time to give him a quick kiss and send him off with a final good luck encouragement. It was pointless though, you both knew the car wasn’t going to perform to Lewis’ liking. If anything it had somehow gotten worse for this weekend.

As you sat in the garage watching on you couldn’t help but cringe. Lewis was battling with the car, not even making it out of Q1. You knew his mood wouldn’t be amazing when he finally made his way back to you after going to be weighed and speak to the media. You watched the next session, baffled by the sheer chaos unfolding and you couldn’t help but pray that the race would end up being better. The grid was out of position and red flags were being thrown left and right. You let out a sigh when you saw your man finally enter the garage, his helmet still on. He stopped momentarily to speak with some of his engineers, shaking peoples hands and thanking them for their hard work. He finally locked onto you, gesturing for you to follow him as he made his way to his drivers room. When you walked in behind him you could see how heavy his shoulders were. His helmet had been discarded on the bench beside him but he still hadn’t turned around.

“Hey, we knew it was gonna be shit, right?” You said quietly, putting your hand on his damp back.

“Yeah, we did. I’m just so ready for this season to be over.” He finally said, letting out a deep breath as he turned to face you.

“We’re so close babe, so so close. And for now we get to take a little time away from this devil of a car.” You told him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands found your waist. Not caring one bit that he was soggy from the rain and the sweat, just content to be with your guy.

“Still got a race to do hun.” He reminded you, kissing his teeth.

“Oh I know, but let’s not think about that right now. I was talking about you getting behind the wheel of a Mclaren MP4 for a little while instead.” You smirk, leaning up towards his now smiling face.

“A proper race car.” He says, his smile threatening to split his face.

This is what you wanted, you wanted him to revel in the joy, revel in the honor of driving such an incredible car. Enjoy being behind the wheel of a Championship winning car once again even if it was only for a few laps and unlike the cars he was used to winning in.

“A legacy meant for a hometown hero to carry on, and a race car meant for a World Champion. It’s been waiting for another great to stretch its legs and they found just the right Brazilian for the job.” You whispered to him, your faces incredibly close now.

“If you keep talking like that I might end up locking you in here.” His voice is teasing as he wraps his arms around you.

“As much as I desperately want to say yes to that, I do believe you have something to get ready for.” You sigh, pulling back and patting his chest.

“I do, but we’ll use it for motivation later, I might need it.” He says as he peels himself off of you, his voice is playful but you both know he’s dead serious.

“The second we leave this track, I am all yours for as long as you want or need.” You promise, watching as he starts to change and prepare to go meet the Mclaren mechanics that have been looking after the historical car.

You sit in a comfortable peace for a while, occasionally exchanging words about little things that don’t really matter that much, just enjoying being in his space. You know that when the day is over you will have a full debrief, all of the frustration that he’s setting aside for this moment will inevitably bubble up once he’s in the safe privacy of the two of you alone, but for now you entertain his small talk and let him start to get excited about his incredible moment as he gets himself ready. When he’s ready he turns to you with childlike excitement bubbling at the surface and you can feel your heart swell.

“This is a good look for you.” You tell him, eyeing the all white suit with the Brazilian flag at his waist.

“I’m still mad I can’t wear his actual helmet.” Lewis grumbles with a shake of his head.

“I hate to say, I actually agree with them on that one babe, let’s keep your head safe, yeah?” You laugh.

“I know I know, don’t think it would even fit on my head anyway.” He playfully groans, making his way over to you.

“I like the special helmet for this weekend though, it’s still a tribute.” You remind him, knowing he’s half joking but wanting him to be fully confident when he steps out.

He nods, taking a moment to admire you before he’s pulling you close and landing his lips on yours in a kiss that takes you by surprise with its force.

“Thank you, for everything,” He starts when he finally pulls away, his forehead resting on yours, “for reminding me that I’m allowed to revel in this, for keeping me grounded,for letting me be excited, just for everything.”

“Hey, that’s why I’m here. You do the exact same for me when I need it, it’s why we work so well.” You say quietly, your hand coming to stroke his beard gently.

“If I don’t get to see you before I get in the car, just know your words from last night are gonna be in my head the entire time. I’m gonna let myself enjoy this, let myself feel this. Nothing else about today matters other than honouring and paying tribute to my childhood hero and getting to live out my childhood dreams of driving the car that made me want to start racing around the circuit that introduced me to another home.” His voice holds excitement and certainty as he speaks that makes you want to cry and kiss him all at once.

You’ve never been quite so proud of the man in front of you. Yes, you’ve cheered for him since the beginning, before you even met him. You’ve wept when he’s broken records and won each and every championship. Yet nothing quite compares to seeing this amazing moment and knowing just how much he deserves it, knowing that there is no one better to hold this responsibility and honor. There is no one like Aryton Senna and truly there never will be, and there is no one like Lewis Hamilton and there truly never will be.

“You know you’re doing for millions what he did for you, right?” You whisper, hoping he knows just the level of inspiration he gives to everyone watching him, young and old alike.

“I know, and it’s amazing to be able to do that.” He says, his smile warm.

You don’t say another word, giving him a long kiss, feeling connected to him in a way you both need in the moment, albeit for much different reasons. You are pouring every ounce of pride and amazement into the kiss, hoping he can feel it, while he is absorbing the love and reassurance that comes with your touch, letting himself feel his greatness and humble himself all at once. Finally there is a knock at the door, signalling that he really needs to get going, causing you to part from each other reluctantly.

“Okay, I gotta go do the most amazing thing of my entire career.” He says with a smile, “Be here when I get back?”

“I can’t promise I won’t be sobbing out near the pit wall but I will definitely find you, promise.” You laugh, giving him one last kiss before he grabs his helmet and makes his way over to the media garage where the incredible car is being stored for him.

It takes you a little while to get out to the pit lane that is already lined with people. You wish you could be closer, see the car up close but this isn’t your moment. Today is for Senna's family and the people of Brazil, you are just lucky enough to be able to witness the incredible moment in person.You know Lewis is somewhere down the pitlane, most likely trying to stay calm as he geeks out over the amazing machine he is about to drive. He has driven one of Senna’s cars before, but not in a long time, and not in this setting, not with this honor and audience. You also know that no matter how many times he may have had the privilege of being around and driving incredible race cars, he is a racing driver through and through and the excitement will never change. While you’re standing there smiling to yourself, thinking about how excited Lewis must be and taking in the incredible aura of the crowd, you catch sight of the live stream playing on the jumbotron. There he is, getting in his idols car, you watch as he takes a moment to really take it in just before he’s being strapped in. It’s funny to you to see him surrounded by Mclaren mechanics again, to see the goodyear tires you remember from your first ever F1 races. Then they’re rolling him out and the crowd gets their first in person glimpse of the car over the wall and the cheers echo through your soul. It takes a few more minutes for them to be ready and the atmosphere is building with anticipation but then they start the engine. The first rumble sends a chill down your spine and silences the track. The sound of the V10 roaring to life evoked a visceral feeling from you, bringing back memories of why you fell in love with the sport as a child in the first place and you could only imagine what the emotions coursing through Lewis in that moment were. You saw him shake his head in disbelief as he revved the engine and you could just picture the boyish grin that would be covering his face at that moment. Then it cut, he stalled, and you heard the boos and wanted to run and protect him. You knew it wasn’t his fault, and realistically you knew the crowd wasn’t booing him, they were booing the disruption of the soundtrack that was the incredible V10 engine and you also knew Lewis was smart enough to know that as well. The mechanics were quick, getting the engine back up rapidly and soon enough Lewis was headed out toward the track. He took a moment, the mechanics meeting him again and you prayed that everything would go to plan, this moment was too important to everyone for anything not to be perfect. And then you saw him, speeding past you in Senna’s Mclaren down the pit straight. The spray of water adding to the moment as he waved at the fans who were evidently stunned at the spectacle in front of them. Their recently adopted hero bringing them back to a moment with their lifelong hero. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you watched him complete lap after flawless lap, handling the car like he’d been driving it for years. You could only imagine what the emotions flowing through his body must be, so incredibly grateful to be able to witness the moment. When you saw him stop to grab the flag your tears picked up, watching the beauty of the moment as he completed his dream of waving his new country's flag as he drove his idol's car with no hands around the wet track. Everything about the moment was pure poetry.

By the time he parked the car on the grid, you were sure there wasn’t a dry eye in the entirety of Sao Paulo. You watched through teary eyes as Viviane went and spoke to him as he collected himself in the cockpit. You could see her thanking him and you knew that he was thanking her just as profusely. You tried to dry your eyes as you watched them pose with Senna's helmet while Lewis sat in the car, but they came back quickly. You finally managed to pull yourself together just a little bit as you watched him pose with flag but the second he knelt down next to the car as if to thank it for everything it had done for him and his idol, you lost it again, You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself just a bit, your emotions were definitely getting the best of you. You could see the emotion on Lewis’ face as he too pulled himself together to get ready for the interview. He was beaming, eternally grateful for the opportunity. You listened as he described his love for Brazil and the love he has received from the fans, you could hear the emotion thick in his voice the entire time, even through the incredible joy that was paired with it. You knew he meant it when he said it was the ‘honor of his career’ and you were certain this would be a moment that neither of you ever forgot. Everything about it was purely beautiful, seeing everyone pause for something so meaningful, you weren’t sure you had ever seen the sport so at one in your entire life.

When you saw him finally making his way to the pit lane you scramble to try to pull yourself together, hoping to be somewhat emotionally sound when you went to meet him in his drivers room, but he found you first, a strong arm slinking around your waist before you were being crushed in a tight hug. When he finally let you go you took a moment to take him in. The emotions were written all over his face, the weight of the profound moment sinking in for him as the joy was palpable. He took in your state, his eyes softening, knowing that every emotion on your face came from your love for him and your love for the sport.

“C’mon, lets go be alone for a second.” He said softly, guiding you toward the garage.

When you were safely inside his drivers room you turned to him, your words dying on your tongue as they didn’t feel enough to express just how proud of him you were. Instead you opted to grasp his face in your hands and kiss him, hard, tears falling down your cheeks as you did. When you finally parted from him you saw that the smile had never left his face.

“I think you’re more emotional about that entire thing than I am.” He teased you softly, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“Stop it,” You laughed, swatting at him pathetically, “I’m just so proud of you and so happy for you. I can only imagine what that meant to you.”

“Yeah, it was surreal, never had so many emotions at once. It felt incredible, it truly felt like a dream come true.” He said as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you toward him.

“I was right you know, there was no one more suited for that than you.” You tell him softly.

“You were absolutely right, that felt perfect, Viviane was so kind and so grateful, I will never forget this.” He sighs and you can tell the weight of the weekend is leaving his body with it.

“Nothing else that happens this weekend matters, okay? This was what it was all for.” You assure him, placing your hand on the side of his neck.

“Thank you, you’re right, that was truly the only reason I am here this weekend, none of the rest matters in the slightest.” His eyes are soft as he melts into your touch.

“I know you said you wanted to be Senna or Superman but I think you may have achieved both just now. You are more than a hero to just about everyone here, me included.” You tell him softly, staring deep into his eyes as you do.

“That means a lot, I felt it while I was out there. It was a crazy feeling, getting to be that for everyone.” He says earnestly.

“You do it way more frequently than you think, even if you haven’t been feeling it lately.” You assure him, wanting him to know just how much you mean it.

He doesn’t respond but you can tell he’s just taking it in as he lets out a breath and traces circles on your hip. He’s a confident man, cocky at times, but even the strongest of soldiers can be weak in the face of defeat.

“I know you are a natural born competitor, but let's make a deal that your only objective today is just to come back to me in one piece. That’s all I ask of you.” You say after a moment, listening to the rain pickup against the roof.

“I will absolutely come back to you, but I ain’t making any promise about not also trying to pull that tractor as far forward as I can.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay fair enough, just need you in tiptop shape to be my superman when we get back to the hotel tonight.” You smirk, pinching his bicep.

“Well when you put it like that why don’t we just leave on a high note and head back right now?” He asks playfully, pulling you closer to him.

“I’m down, but you’ve gotta go keep being both Senna and Superman.” You giggle.

“Okay, I’ll do my best, but I’m still holding you to that even if this race is shit.” He says, pinching your bum.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

151 notes · View notes

dc-comics-enjoyer · 3 months ago

Text

Hc on the first time Bruce clearly says I love you

(quick note : Bruce tends to show his love through actions that scream "I love you with all my soul" rather than saying it outright. But hey, let’s have some fun with this)

To Dick - He's 12. Him, Bruce and Alfred just came home from a day out. They spent the day at an amusement park for his bday. Dick has never been happier, so just before he runs back to his room, he turns abruptly to Bruce, almost tripping him and with the brightest smile, he says it. "That was sooo cool ! Thank you, I love you !". Bruce is taken aback but the smile is too blinding which pushes him to not overthink : "I love you too, Dick."

To Jason - After a long period of distancing himself, Jason is finally back with the Batfamily. The tension is still there, but Jason is more open to being around Bruce. One morning, Bruce is in the kitchen having breakfast when Jason walks in. For the first time in a long time, Jason opens the fridge and grabs something to eat. Bruce watches him, feeling moved by the casual domesticity. “Jason ?” He says softly. “Mmh?” “Thank you for being around. I love you." Bruce doesn't immediately realize that he said it, and when he does, Bruce practically runs away.

To Cass - She’s gotten into calligraphy and creates a “Love you” sign, which she slides under Bruce's bedroom door. The next morning, Bruce comes into the kitchen holding up the sign, looking preoccupied. Or is he choked up ? Anyway, “Who made this ?” he asks. Cass raises her hand with a shy smile. Without hesitation, Bruce strides over and pulls her into a hug. “I love you too, kiddo.”

To Clark - On the field, Clark has gone rogue due to red kryptonite. After a grueling battle, the League manages to subdue him and Batman uses kryptonite to neutralize him. This time, however, they're not sure Superman's going to snap out of it. Exhausted both physically and emotionally, Bruce drives the kryptonite into his chest and whispers, "I’m sorry, Clark. I... I love you. Please come back." (bonus points if it buys into the cliché and is what makes Clark come back)

To Damian - He's having a particularly rough time, feeling inadequate, but also misunderstood because ultimately he's still a kid and doesn't know yet how to express himself. That night, he lashes out and pushes everyone away, isolating himself. Bruce's heart breaks when he realizes what's really happening and tells him through the locked door : “I want you to know something important: I love you, and I’m really proud of you, no matter what.” Damian swings the door open and clings onto his father with all his might that night.

To Alfred - Bruce is young and has been Batman for just a couple years. Earlier that night, he sees a father and son playing in the park. It's simple, but, through his whole night out, his mind is relentlessly thinking of them. When he arrives home, Alfred is waiting for him, ready to provide comfort. As always. Bruce is taking off his mask, and when he looks at Alfred, he sees a father. "Alfred. I don’t say it enough-- I don't say it at all but... I love you."

To Tim - Bruce is stuck on a case, and lacking on so many others. The past month has been extremely tough. The cases are piling on but he's burning out, he has his nose to the grindstone. Tim gets home after being away for a couple weeks. Immediately, he gets on the cases too and, because he has a clearer and fresher perspective, he points out a few crucial points. Bruce, dark-circled and unkempt, looks up abruptly : "Y--yes, that's right... How did I not-- Damnit finally ! I goddamn love you, Tim."

229 notes · View notes

lolottes · 1 year ago

Text

I admit it's a funny picture:

Superman flying slowly enjoying the sunset after a long day. A white-haired woman arrives who rushes at Superman unaware of his approach (she is intelligible so makes no noise despite her speed) and tackles him complaining about theft, uses her intelligibility to drug him and put him to sleep. Puts it on his shoulder and becomes invisible.

It was filmed and published.

The Justice League spent the night looking for him.

Clark Kent goes to work the next day even though he has a strange facial expression

Ellie worked undercover at Cadmus

So, Ellie has grown up and become an Adult living on her own by now.

She is doing her best to make the most out of her life. She went to school, graduated from College, and even got a Job.

She grew up in a Lab, and learned quite a bit about Genetic Engineering over the course of her life both before and after escaping (Both from Vlad, and from Danny during that Point in time where they were trying to permanently stabilize her).

So, when she gets an offer to join a new start-up Company called Cadmus, she jumped at the opportunity to use her Knowledge to help others. (She was told it was a Research Company that used Genetic Engineering to make medicines)

It wasn't until she had already signed the NDA that she figured out that this was an Illegal Cloning Lab.

Thankfully, she was immune to the Mind Control that they had tried to use on all of the Scientists to make them okay with all of the illegal shit, but she still had to play the part so she could help the poor clones who would be created in this project.

She went Undercover for years. Any time a Clone was deemed a "Failure", she would try her best to save them. She did manage to save a few, sending them to Danny so he could help them find a home, but unfortunately she couldn't save them all.

After a few years, the other scientists began to stress out. The K-Series had been a total failure so far, and none of the Clones had even come close to being Viable. Even the most successful one, identified as Match, couldn't come close to being called an actual success.

So, they went a different route. If Kryptonian DNA didn't want to be Cloned, then maybe they could splice it with some other DNA and force it to work with them?

The Scientists began splicing Human DNA into the Genome, running trials to see if it would be Viable at all before even attempting to create a Full Clone. And they did find some success, preliminary tests showed that Human DNA was uniquely adaptable when it came to splicing, and theoretically it could be used to make a Fully Viable Clone!

When Luthor heard of this, he deemed that nobody aside from himself was worthy of being the "Father", and gave his own DNA to the Scientists to use for the Experiment.

Ellie was put in charge of transporting the DNA to the Lab, but in a random accident (we both know it wasn't, Clockwork), she ends up dropping the Sample. In a rush, she just puts some of her own Blood into the Vial and gives it to the Scientists working on the Gene Splicing Project. (She was panicking, ok?! Nobody would be able to work in a lab like this without getting a little bit of anxiety, and she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep in days at that point!)

They are thrilled! They don't know why, but Mr Luthor's DNA was so much better at Splicing than any other Human DNA they had ever tested before. He was certainly right about his own DNA being the beat suited for the Job!

Ellie meanwhile is having a bit of a meltdown. She can't believe she just gave them some of her DNA! And they already used it to make a Fetus! She's a mother now! She never wanted to be a Mom!

But she guesses that none of that matters anymore. She's has a son now, and she needs to get him out of there. But how to do it? As the only successful K-Series Clone, he was under the most heavily guarded security imaginable, so there was absolutely no way she would ever be able to sneak him out of there. Even if she used her powers, the Security was primed to scan for any and all foreign energy signatures, even Ecto Energy.

So for now, she was stuck. She couldn't break him out, and she also couldn't just leave the Company and let them abuse all those poor clones like that! She just needed to wait for the right opportunity to get her son out of there, even if it meant that she would have to stay behind.

It wasn't until a team of errant Sidekicks broke into the Lab a few years later, that she had a way out for her son.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #DPXDC #danny phantom #justice league #danni phantom #superman #social network #clark kent #I let you choose if he is traumatized and exhausted because he spent the night forcing him to follow Elli's “sensitivity training”#or if she asked amorpho to cover Clark #she wants to make him change #not put him in danger his civil identity/secret identity

729 notes · View notes

twilight-orchid · 10 months ago

Text

You’re Going To Be A Grand….Bat

Part 2 to Shower Suprise Part 3

Jason Todd x gn pregnant reader

Word count 2,303

You bounced your foot impatiently as you and Jason sat in the gynecologist’s purposefully pastel waiting room. He watched you look anxiously around the space, your eyes never settling on any one thing and your head perking to every name called. You fiddled with your new engagement ring, a small smile curling into his lip upon seeing it. He held your right hand gently but firmly, his thumb rubbing circles along your soft skin. He slipped his grip up to your wrist, pressing just enough to feel your wild heartbeat racing.

“Hey, look at me doll.” He said lowly. You turned to look at him, your eyes possessing a frantic look and your pretty face twisted with worry. He let go of your hand to cup your cheek.

“It’ll be alright sweetheart. Either way it goes, it’ll be alright. You just gotta stay calm and breathe. Can you breathe for me?” You closed your eyes as you sucked in a shuddered breath, but you matched his in and exhales. You were both 99% sure you were pregnant, that’s not what you were nervous about.

After further deliberation, the two of you had decided to keep the baby. Jason felt nervous, excited, stressed, ecstatic, and terrified all at the same time. He’d spent the whole night reading about the first trimester of pregnancy and researched what you would learn at the first ultrasound. That was why you were nervous.

They’d go over basics: how far along you are, the baby’s measurements, listen to the heartbeat, etc. However, they’d also possibly hear some bad news: Ectopic pregnancy, developmental screenings, and genetic abnormality screenings are what had you stressing. Of course, chances were everything would be fine, but the couple was still understandably scared.

“Y/l/n?” A nurse called from the now open door. Jason squeezed your hand then stood, grabbing your bag and following you into the office. She confirmed your identity, took your height and weight, then led you into a small room. She had you sit on the cold blue exam table, the paper crinkling as Jason helped you up. He took his place at the chair by your side then once again grabbed your hand. You met his eyes and smiled nervously.

“Alright, I understand we’re doing an ultrasound today?” You nodded and she smiled warmly at you both. She took your basic intake info then had you lay down.

“Now I’m just an exam tech. The doctor will be in after to go over the results with you, okay? Pull your shirt up to your bust and relax. Oh, and sorry in advance, this will be cold.” Once you were settled, she squeezed a clear gel onto your bare belly making you shudder.

“Jesus fuck. That is cold.” Jason chuckled. Between the two of you his kid would be cursing like a sailor by 2.

You both watched the technicians face closely for any sign of what she was seeing as she waved the wand along your belly, but she had an impeccable poker face. And, as someone raised to analyze facial expressions, he couldn’t get a read of her at all. Impressive.

The exam thankfully only took a few minutes and the technician quickly departed to share the results with the doctor. Jason grabbed a couple of the cheap, rough paper towels and brought them over. You thanked him with a smile then moved the wipe the slick gel off. He tossed them for you as soon as you were done.

“You okay doll?” He asked. You still looked beyond anxious.

“I’m fine, just impatient.”

“Well that much I know.” He teased. You smiled and smacked his arm. He pretended to be hurt as if Superman himself had slugged him.

“Oh shut up, drama queen.” You laughed. There was a knock at the door before he could respond.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Hall and I’ll be going over your results with you today. I can see you’re both waiting anxiously, so I’ll cut to the chase: you’re 8 weeks pregnant.” The two now confirmed new parents looked at each other with excitement growing on their faces. He squeezed your hand tight.

“Wait, I didn’t finish.” The doctor interjected. The two froze and looked at her nervously. Oh no, was something wrong? She didn’t look like it was bad news though. A slight smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re pregnant with twins.” She said simply. If there were a window in the room, Jason would swear there’d be a bird suspended in air outside the way the world froze around him. You were the first to break the stunned silence.

“No, I’m not.” You denied, disbelief painting your tone. The doctor laughed.

“Yes, you are.” She grabbed a folder from the counter behind her and handed you a black and gray photo. Not just any photo, your ultrasound. The shock of twins dissipated when you saw the two little blobs that would be your babies.

“They’re not very visually developed at this stage, but you can see their little heads right here and this is their body. They’re about the size of raspberries right now. They’re both perfectly healthy so far as we can tell, but you’ll need to come in monthly for checkups.” Neither responded, their eyes glued to the paper. It suddenly felt very real for Jason. Pregnant wasn’t just a word and parenthood wasn’t just an idea; he already had two kids on the way. He had a whirlwind of emotions raging inside of him.

Twins. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, he thought. He heard you sniffle then turned to you to see tears rolling down your cheeks. He was worried for a moment before you wiped them away with a small laugh.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” The doctor smiled and handed you a tissue.

“It’s alright! Totally normal reaction with your hormones. Congratulations!” Jason still hadn’t said anything. He heard the conversation going on around him, but he felt like he was in a trance.

Twins. Two cribs, two car seats, two beds, twice the diapers, twice the bottles, twice the spit up, and more than likely half their sleep for the next couple years.

“I take it you’re the father?” She asked. Something clicked in his mind, and he looked up to meet your eyes. His head was still spinning, but he knew with you at his side everything would be okay. His signature handsome smile began growing on his face.

“Yeah, I’m the dad.”

You left with a copy of the ultrasound and your 12-week checkup scheduled. Once in the car the two of you made your way home.

“Jay, can I address the elephant in the room?” You asked from the passenger side.

“I mean sure but, we’re in the car and I don’t see an elephant anywhere.” He remarked making you scoff.

“Don’t be a smartass.” You chided. He let out a sigh.

“I know we need to tell Bruce.”

“He’s gonna find out sooner or later, and if you hide it for too long, he’s gonna get his feelings hurt.” Jason barked a laugh.

“You know we’re talking about Batman, right?”

“He’s human, Jay. And he’s really making an effort with you. If you don’t tell him he’s going to think you don’t trust him, it’ll hurt his feelings, and he’ll express it in anger or coldness. Better?” He groaned.

“Fine.” He made the turn that takes you out of the city to the suburbs where the manor was located.

“Wait we’re going right now?”

“I know he’s home right now, and most of my siblings aren’t. It’s as good a time as any.” You didn’t say anything, just squeezed the hand he had resting on your thigh.

“Can you let Al know we’re on the way?”

Telling Bruce had been an issue dancing around his mind just as much as the pregnancy itself. He didn’t expect B to be mad, but he doubted he’d be happy about it. For someone who had a small army of kids himself, B had been very clear about how dangerous it is to bring kids into their world. Plus, Jason had always said Bruce should give criminals the safe sex talks he and his siblings had received. The awkwardness alone would probably set them on a better path.

The manor was only about 20 minutes away from the hospital, so you reached your destination quickly. Which was good, because Jason’s nerves were already shot by the time you arrived. Alfred had clearly been waiting for you as the door was open by the time they were on the stairs.

“Master Todd, y/n, it’s good to see you both.” Alfred greeted with a smile.

“Hey, Al. Where’s B?” Alfred scoffed.

“Where he always is.” The trio made their way through the manor, into the study, then descended into the cave. Being that it was only 11am, they found Bruce in his street clothes typing away at the Bat-computer, his back to the entrance.

“Hey, B.” Jason greeted as they got closer. Bruce looked up from his research and turned to them with his universe famous resting bitch face.

“Jason, y/n.” He acknowledged with a nod before going back to his case. The couple looked anxiously at each other before Jason cleared his throat.

“B, we uh… we actually need to talk to you.” Jason said tentatively. That got Bruce’s attention.

He fully turned away from the computer to face you. You stared at the floor, your hands fiddling anxiously with the hem of your shirt. Jason looked him in the eye, but his face was controlled, intentional. He gripped a folder in his hand with white knuckled strength.

You were both nervous as hell.

He noticed the new ring on your finger, but you weren’t here to announce your engagement. This was something else. Something important that affected you both, that clearly involved Bruce, and that you were anxious about.

“Excuse me.” Alfred said with a small bow, dismissing himself.

“Actually Al, you should stay.” Jason added. Bruce and Alfred both raised a brow to that. There were several potential options mulling around Bruce’s mind, but one stood out as a prominent possibility.

“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.” He said, still painfully deadpan. You both froze, head snapping up like deer in headlights. Shit, you were pregnant.

“Are you serious?” He asked, his voice sterner than he meant it to be but he didn’t bother correcting himself. Jason approached and handed him the folder, then took a step back to your side, placing a reassuring hand on your hip. Bruce flipped it open with Alfred peering over his shoulder.

Bruce had never been there for the pregnancy of any of his kids and had never really been around pregnant people for any extended periods of time, but he knew what a sonogram looked like. And he also knew there weren’t typically two fetuses in the picture either.

“My god, you’re having twins?” Alfred exclaimed. The couple both nodded silently. Bruce sighed.

“After all the talks I had with you boys…” He muttered.

“We used a condom!” Jason defended.

“And birth control.” You added. Bruce groaned and ran a hand over his face.

He looked at Jason, his son. His son that had been through hell and seen the world at its worst. His son who died and was brought back angry and crazed. Bruce’s greatest failure. His son who went on a killing spree, following his own vengeful sense of justice. His son who, after everything, was trying to be a better man. He was a better man. A man who controlled his anger, who was denying vengeance for justice, who had settled in with a partner and really began building a life for himself. Bruce wasn’t the sort to load praise, he found words useless and pretty, so he preferred actions. However, he was proud of Jason in a way unique to his children. And now his son, whom he once thought lost, was having two kids of his own. Bruce sighed again.

“I’m not even 50 and you’re making me a grandpa?” He asked, the slightest quirk at the corner of his lip. The couple paused; a loading screen might as well have been floating above their heads.

“So you’re…” you began.

“Not pissed?” Jason finished. Bruce scoffed.

“No. You’re adults, you can make your own decisions.” He said plainly but paused.

“And, for the record, I think you’ll be great parents.” With that he turned back to the computer and set to work again.

“Oh, and congratulations on the engagement.” He yelled over his shoulder. You furrowed your brows.

“How did he- oh, right. World's greatest detective, I forgot.” Bruce snorted to himself at that last part.

“My congratulations to the both of you. How far along?” Alfred said as he approached the new parents to be.

“8 weeks.” You answered smiling brightly, your hand moving to your currently unchanged belly. Something warm lit in Jason’s chest.

“Well, I wish you luck informing the rest of the family, I’m rather thankful we don’t have neighbors. They’re sure to cause quite the ruckus in their excitement.”

“You think they’ll be excited?” You asked anxiously. Jason knew you were worried about your place in his massive and chaotic super family.

“Oh, babe, they’re gonna be through the roof. Two babies? You kidding? There’s gonna be a war from day 1 to be the favorite aunt or uncle.” You smiled, your nerves dying down.

“Everyone will be together for dinner tonight, perhaps you could join us then? I’m making tortellini.” Alfred tempted. Jason suddenly looked like a kid on Christmas.

“Oh, babe, we have to do it. You’ve never had Al’s homemade tortellini, absolutely killer.” You laughed.

“I guess we’ll see you for dinner tonight.”

Note: I know, I knoooow the twin trope is overdone but the image of Jason trying to juggle two toddlers is just too good. I have one more piece drafted then I may write the whole family reveal, but I’m anxious to write that many characters at once. Also I know I have a pretty nice Bruce, but I don't feel like Batman as a character needs to be an absuive ass to his kids to be himself. And again, I'm a new writer so I'm sorry if it's bad lol. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

#jason todd x reader #Jason Todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x pregnant reader #jason todd x pregnant!reader #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #Jason Todd #red hood #dcu #dc comics #dc #batfam #batman

677 notes · View notes

bloomyeu · 3 months ago

Text

또 다시 밤 (twilight)

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: In the aftermath of a heartbreaking breakup, you navigate the haunting memories of your past relationship with Chan, struggling to find peace in a world that feels forever altered.

word count: 3k

warnings: angst, greif, mean!chan, rlly sad. based off of the song heh

a/n: first fic of changst!!!

series masterlist masterlist | requests

Sitting alone in your small apartment, the city’s hum outside barely reaches you through the dimly lit room. Shadows dance on the walls, casting an almost eerie glow that contrasts sharply with the emptiness you feel inside. This space, once vibrant with life and laughter, now feels like a hollow shell of what it used to be. Memories of Chan, your ex, haunt every corner of your mind, weaving through the fabric of your daily routine.

The apartment is a time capsule of happier days. Chan’s side of the bed remains untouched, a testament to the mornings that once began with shared smiles and sleepy conversations. His side of the closet is still lined with his clothes, a stark reminder of the warmth that used to fill the room. The spare toothbrush left in the bathroom drawer and his favorite shampoo still sitting untouched in the shower are small remnants of a life you once shared.

Your first encounter with Chan happened at the convenience store where you worked the late shift. It was always around 2 a.m. when he would come in, his routine a comforting ritual. He’d purchase the same pack of instant ramen, a simple yet endearing habit that quickly became a part of your nightly routine.

“You’re really making a habit out of this, aren’t you? Is there a secret recipe for that ramen you’re not telling me about?”

Chan flashed you a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Maybe it’s the secret ingredient of sleep deprivation. It keeps me sane while working.”

You laughed, leaning against the counter. “You know, my mom always told me that eating too much ramen would give you cancer.”

Chan raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Really? And here I thought ramen was the key to eternal youth. Guess I’ll have to rethink my diet.”

“Maybe you’re just immune,” you teased back, enjoying the easy banter.

“Of course, I am. I’m Superman, after all,” Chan joked, striking a playful pose that made you chuckle.

What began as casual exchanges soon evolved into something deeper. Those late-night encounters turned into long conversations, each one drawing you closer. Chan had a knack for turning the mundane into something magical. Your talks about dreams, aspirations, and even the quirks of daily life became the things you cherish most. The simple quiet moments with chan.

“You know, I used to think the stars were just there to look pretty. But now, I think they’re like tiny reminders of how we’re all connected. Like us.”

You looked at him, your heart swelling at his words. “That’s a way to think about it. I sometimes think that that the universe is playing matchmaker, bringing people together for a reason. Kinda like cupid ahaha”

Chan smiled warmly, reaching for your hand. “I’m glad the universe brought us together. Without you, I would probably be dead to my instant ramen fixation. You make every day brighter, even the darkest ones.”

Your relationship with Chan blossomed over shared moments and tender gestures. The nights spent under the stars, discussing dreams and promises, became the highlights of your time together. Chan’s charm and sincerity made every moment special, turning even the mundane into something extraordinary.

Your shared experiences—whether it was exploring new places, cooking meals together, or simply enjoying quiet evenings—deepened your connection. Chan’s laughter was a constant source of joy, and his presence became a comforting constant in your life.

Now, as you sit in the quiet of your apartment, surrounded by the remnants of those joyful days, the contrast between the past and the present is stark. The shadows on the walls, the untouched spaces, and the lingering traces of Chan’s presence are constant reminders of the love you once shared. The city’s hum outside is a distant murmur compared to the echoes of laughter and warmth that still linger in your heart.

As you look around the apartment, the memories of Chan come flooding back—each one a bittersweet reminder of the love that once filled this space. Despite the emptiness, you find solace in the cherished moments and the deep connection you once shared.

Chan was everything to you, your rock, your beacon of hope, your home. But that was before everything had changed.

—

The room is shrouded in an eerie quiet, the shadows of the night dancing on the walls as if mocking the emptiness that lingers. The once-vibrant space now feels like a mausoleum of lost love.

You remember the day everything shifted. Chan’s growing distance had become palpable, an invisible chasm widening between you. It started with small things—missed calls, unanswered texts, and fleeting moments of irritability. Each time you tried to address the growing gap, Chan’s responses were curt and dismissive.

The night the reality of the situation crashed down on you was unforgettable. Chan had come home late, and you were already waiting, your heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. The tension in the room was suffocating, a prelude to the confrontation you had been dreading.

“Chan, we need to talk,” you said, your voice trembling as you attempted to mask the fear in your heart.

Chan’s face was a mask of exhaustion and frustration. “can it wait? I’m exhausted, i just wanna take a shower and sleep.”

You stepped closer, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and hurt. “It’s not just about tonight. Its about everything, these past few weeks, the constant ‘I cant talk right now’ excuse, you not responding to my texts, my calls, standing me up multiple times. We’re drifting apart, and it feels like you’re just… slipping away. I’m trying to hold on, but it’s like I’m losing you every day. You aren't even trying”

Chan’s face twisted with anger, his frustration finally spilling over. “Holy Fuck. I’m so sick of your bullshit and your whining. I’m doing everything I can, and it’s never enough for you, is it? You don’t understand how hard I’m working, how much I’m trying to keep everything from falling apart. I have a job, a group to run, I constantly have to be producing, sorry I can't be your little puppy over here to take you out when you feel lonely.”

You recoiled from his harsh words, the sting of his anger cutting deep. “I’m not asking for the world, Chan. I just want to feel like you’re still here with me. Instead, it feels like I’m clinging to a memory of who we used to be.”

Chan’s eyes narrowed, his anger unabated. “Well, maybe if you stopped focusing on what I’m not doing, you’d see that I’m barely keeping it together. Maybe I’m just too exhausted to give you what you want right now!”

The hurt in your eyes was palpable, tears streaming down your face. “So what? You’re just going to give up on us because it’s too hard? I thought we were supposed to face these challenges together, not let them tear us apart.”

Chan’s expression was cold, his voice sharp. “I don’t see how we can fix this if you keep whining for my attention like a fucking dog. Maybe we’re just not meant to be together anymore. I’m done trying to make you understand something you clearly don’t want to. You obviously have an issue with my job and the hours im working, and Its like you want me to quit. You know I can't do that. Honestly i'm sick of you.”

You took a step back, the finality of his words sinking in. “Is this really how you want it to end? Just like that, without even trying to work things out?”

Chan’s face remained hardened, his anger leaving no room for remorse. “I don’t know what more you want from me. I’m at my limit, and I can’t keep pretending everything is fine when it’s not. Maybe we’re both better off apart.”

The tears continued to fall as you struggled to hold back your sobs. “I never wanted this. I wanted to fight for us, to find a way through this mess. But if you’re really done, then maybe this is the end.”

Chan’s silence was deafening, his anger making it clear he had nothing more to say. You took a shuddering breath, feeling the weight of the end pressing down on you. “Goodbye, Chan. I hope you find what you’re looking for, even if it’s not with me.”

As you turned to leave, Chan’s voice cut through the silence, harsh and unyielding. “Good riddance. Maybe this will be easier for both of us.”

You walked away, each step feeling like a heavy blow, the finality of the breakup echoing in the emptiness left behind.

—

The days following the breakup were a blur of desolation. Your grief was a constant companion, a heavy blanket that suffocates you with its weight.

Meals that were once a joy to prepare and share now feel like a chore.

You force yourself to eat, but the taste of food has become bland, unappealing. The mere act of eating feels like an intrusion on your sorrow. You find yourself staring at empty plates, unable to summon the appetite that once came so easily. The thought of food is a reminder of how much has changed, of how your life has shifted from one of shared experiences to solitary mourning.

Every corner of your apartment holds a piece of Chan, and it feels like you're living in a shrine to a lost love. You can’t escape the reminders of him—the way the sunlight filters through the blinds just like it used to when he was there, the lingering scent of his cologne that clings to the pillows, the echoes of his laughter that still seem to resonate in the empty space. Each detail is a bitter reminder of what once was, amplifying your sense of loss.

You feel like you're stuck in a time loop, unable to move forward or let go. The reality of Chan’s absence is overwhelming. You catch yourself reaching for your phone to text him, only to be met with the cold reality that he’s no longer there to reply. The reminders of him—his favorite songs, the TV shows you used to watch together—are painful triggers, causing a fresh wave of heartache every time you encounter them.

You miss him more than you thought possible. The emptiness is consuming, leaving you feeling hollow and disconnected from the world. You find yourself drifting through your days, each one a monotonous repetition of the last. The joy you once found in simple pleasures has been replaced by a pervasive sense of longing. You keep replaying moments from your relationship, trying to find some sense of closure or understanding, but all you find is more sorrow.

Despite your best efforts to move on, you feel trapped in the memory of what you once had. The past clings to you like a shadow, refusing to let go. Your attempts to engage with friends or distract yourself with activities only serve as temporary reprieves from the overwhelming sense of loss. The void left by Chan’s departure feels insurmountable, an emotional chasm that you can’t seem to cross.

Each day is a struggle to get out of bed, to face a world that feels alien and unwelcoming. You try to force yourself into a routine, but the energy to do so is lacking. The weight of the breakup is a constant presence, a reminder of the love you lost and the future you once envisioned together.

In the quiet moments, when the distractions of daily life fade away, the grief is most profound. You are left alone with your thoughts, drowning in the memories of happier times and the pain of their absence. The emotional void is both vast and intimate, a deep well of sadness that seems impossible to escape. The world continues to move around you, but you are stuck, trapped in a cycle of longing and regret, unable to move forward or let go.

—

As the days pass, you find yourself subconsciously drawn to activities and places that hold echoes of Chan. It's as if you’re searching for fragments of the past to piece together a semblance of the love that once defined your life. Each activity is both a source of solace and a trigger for the deep-seated sorrow you feel.

You take a walk through the park where you and Chan used to spend lazy Sunday afternoons. The park, once a backdrop for your shared laughter and quiet conversations, now feels eerily silent. The swings creak softly in the breeze, and you can almost hear Chan’s laughter as he pushed you gently. You sit on a bench, tracing patterns in the dirt with your shoe, as you remember how Chan used to playfully tease you about your attempts to draw perfect shapes. The memories come flooding back, sharp and bittersweet, mingling with the tears that you try to hold back.

Back at home, you find yourself scrolling through social media, a habit you had hoped to break. Chan’s presence is everywhere. His photos, tagged by friends and fans, are a constant reminder of what you’ve lost. You see him in candid shots, his radiant smile captured in moments you were once a part of. His posts about new projects and achievements are a painful juxtaposition to your current emotional state. Each notification feels like a stab to your heart, but you can’t bring yourself to unfollow or mute his updates. It’s as if seeing him, even from a distance, is a way to keep a part of him in your life, despite the growing void.

Your dreams are invaded by memories of Chan. At night, when you close your eyes, your mind transports you back to moments of intimacy and joy. You dream of nights spent under the stars, where Chan’s voice would soothe your fears and his presence would banish loneliness. In these dreams, everything is perfect again, and the pain of waking up is almost unbearable. You wake up with tears on your pillow, yearning for the comfort of those fleeting moments that seem so real and yet so unattainable.

You attempt to engage in activities that once brought you joy, hoping to reclaim some sense of normalcy. You bake cookies using the recipe Chan loved. The smell of vanilla and chocolate chips fills your kitchen, but instead of bringing comfort, it amplifies your sense of loss. You remember how Chan used to sneak into the kitchen for a taste before the cookies were even cool, and the kitchen now feels emptier without his playful presence. You bake the cookies anyway, each bite a bittersweet reminder of the past.

Even your favorite cafe, where you used to meet Chan for your morning fix, feels different. You sit in the same corner booth you used to frequent, clutching your coffee cup with a sense of nostalgia. The barista gives you a sympathetic smile, remembering the way Chan used to order his coffee just the way you liked it. The place holds echoes of conversations and laughter, now overshadowed by the silence of your solitude. You sip your coffee slowly, the warmth of the drink doing little to comfort the coldness in your heart.

You also start a journal, hoping to process your emotions through writing. The pages are filled with reflections on your relationship with Chan, capturing the highs and lows, the dreams you shared, and the gradual unraveling of your connection. You write about your regrets and your hopes for healing, pouring your heart out in a desperate attempt to make sense of the pain.

As you look through old photo albums, you find yourself overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. The photographs capture moments of genuine happiness, but they also serve as reminders of what you’ve lost. You trace the faces in the pictures with your fingers, each image a testament to the love that once brought you joy. The albums become both a treasure trove and a source of anguish, each turn of the page bringing a fresh wave of grief.

Your days and nights are a constant battle between holding on to memories and facing the reality of your separation. The memories of Chan are intertwined with every aspect of your life, making it difficult to escape the constant reminder of what once was. The process of reconnecting with these memories brings both comfort and pain, as you navigate through the lingering echoes of a love that now seems like a distant dream.

As you sit in the quiet of your apartment, the familiar ache of loss has transformed into a tender, enduring sadness. The once vibrant memories of Chan now feel like distant echoes, softened by time but never fully fading. The space around you, while gradually becoming more reflective of your own growth, still carries traces of what once was.

You find yourself gazing out of the window, lost in thought. The world outside continues to move with its usual rhythm, indifferent to the emotional upheaval within your walls. The city lights twinkle in the distance, a comforting yet distant reminder of the life that goes on beyond your small, personal world.

In the midst of this contemplation, a single, lingering wish takes shape in your heart. You close your eyes and allow yourself to dream of a future where paths might cross again. There’s no expectation, no plan—just a quiet hope that, somewhere down the line, life might offer a chance encounter or a moment of reconnection.

You imagine what it would be like to see Chan again, not as a desperate attempt to rekindle what was lost, but as a moment of acknowledgment of the shared past. Perhaps a brief conversation, a simple smile, or even just a nod of recognition—anything that might offer closure or understanding.

The thought of meeting Chan again brings a bittersweet smile to your face. You let the vision linger, holding onto the hope that time might bring unexpected reunions. As you turn away from the window, you carry with you a sense of peace, knowing that the future remains unwritten and full of possibilities.

With a final glance at the fading light outside, you softly whisper to the night

“Maybe someday.”

fin.

series masterlist masterlist | requests

131 notes · View notes

topguncortez · 7 months ago

Text

Slap Shot || Chapter 1

A Jake Seresin Hockey AU

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: You arrive at your new job in North Island, and are hit with memories that you'd much rather leave behind. Jake faces the repercussions of his fight on the ice with his teammate

word count: 2.9k

warnings: grief, mentions of sexism, injuries, losing a parent, locker room talk, hockey inaccuracies, mentions of cheating, workplace harassment, mentions of sex

When you were about five years old, your kindergarten teacher asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up. Most of your classmates gave answers such as “teacher” or “doctor” or “superman”. You, on the other hand, stood in front of the packed gym on the night of your kindergarten graduation, your head held high as you gave your answer.

“A Stanley Cup Winner.”

Of course at the time, you didn’t understand that women could not win the Stanley Cup (you figured that out at age 8 and it caused the meltdown of all epic meltdowns). The closest thing women could get to the Stanley Cup was a gold medal at the Olympics. You worked your ass off from the time you could successfully skate without falling, to your senior year of highschool. Every waking moment you had was spent at the rink, running drills from sunup to sun down. You lived and breathed hockey, and as the daughter of the late great Michael L/N, you had big shoes to fill.

You just never imagined the moment it would all come crashing down.

It was a dumb idea, in hindsight. It was a really dumb idea. Weeks from the US Olympic team tryouts, you agreed to joining your friends at the lake. A place you liked to avoid like the plague. It wasn’t that your parents and coach kept you away from having any fun in your life, you simply chose to ignore the dangerous stunts your friends like to partake in. But for some reason, you decided to take a chance and take a break from the grueling training schedule your coach had created. It was a hot summer day in the middle of July, and a day out on the boat sounded like heaven.

You should’ve said no to trying to wakeboard. You should’ve just stayed on the boat, watching the epic wipeouts by your friends. It would’ve been the smart choice to make. . . but you never were that smart. One bad landing into the wake created by the boat, had you breaking the surface with a horrible scream. Your friends reacted quickly, jumping into the water to help you stay afloat as you screamed in pain, your collar bone protruding awkwardly under your skin. They got you to the hospital quickly where you were told you had broken your collarbone and torn your ACL in your knee. The physical pain wasn’t even as bad as the emotional pain that came a few weeks later.

“I’m sorry, but you will never play hockey at the level you are playing it now. I suggest. . . quitting altogether if you want to avoid having a shoulder replacement before you’re 30.”

A bullet to the chest would’ve hurt less.

At first, you laughed at the doctor’s suggestion, all but telling him to fuck off and asking to see his credentials. Your parents had tried to talk some sense into you, telling you that maybe heeding the doctor’s advice could be beneficial. Your dad knew guys from the league who had shoulder or knee injuries, and it never ended up in their favor. Years of pain and suffering, turning to questionable methods of dealing with the pain, missing out on crucial time with their families or significant others. But you were stubborn, and didn’t want to quit playing when you were about to try-out for the biggest moment of your life.

But you never made it that far. In fact, you never finished your senior season. From the first puck drop, everything was shit. You weren’t as strong as you had been, having lost muscle in both your arms and legs. You felt off balance, and were cautious of every move you made on the ice. You knew the statistics, you were at a higher risk of tearing another ligament in your knee after tearing the first one. Your collar bone, even though it had healed without having to have surgery, clicked and popped anytime you tried to make a slapshot. You were making mistakes you hadn’t made since peewee hockey. Your teammates were growing increasingly annoyed, your coaches were becoming exasperated, and your dreams of making it on the US Olympic team had slowly drifted away. It was a hard choice, but in the middle of your senior year, you decided to hang up your skates for the last time.

Even though you weren’t actively playing, your love for the sport didn’t die along with your Olympic dream. In fact, you found a new way to get involved with the sport, deciding that you were going to major in public relations and team management. Your goal had shifted, and now you wanted to be the first female Hockey manager.

But like most goals, that was easier said than done.

It was 2024, and even with the establishment of the Profession Women’s Hockey League and the US Women’s Hockey team winning numerous gold medals on the world stage, women in the league still weren’t taken seriously. You were told all through college, as you sat in your team management class to choose a different sport like swimming or volleyball or gymnastics. More “women friendly sports”. You weren’t going to throw in the towel and give up on your dream, no matter how many teams had denied you.

When you were hired by the North Island Daggers, you weren’t sure what to expect. They were known as the joke team of the NHL. Always finishing last every season, being most teams shoe-in win when they played against one another. Having gone from working as a PR rep for the Dallas Stars, you felt as though this was a demotion, a punishment for a freelance article you had written about how women were being treated in the NHL. You knew the article was going to be risky when you sat down and wrote it. You just didn’t expect to get a call an hour after the article was published telling you that you were being sent to work with the Daggers.

“We’re happy to have you here,” Beau Simpson, spoke as your heels clicked down the long hallway behind him, “As you can see, we need a little PR help.”

“Yeah, I saw that fight between Holloway and Seresin the other night.” The whole NHL fan base saw the fight, but you weren’t about to tell Simpson something he was probably painfully aware of, “Interesting decision to bench him before going against Endmonton though. He’s your strongest player.”

“Can’t let him get away with bad behavior,” Simpson shrugged, stopping outside a large conference room with glass walls and a large oval table in the middle, “Hey, I’m sorry about your dad. I got the honor of playing against him my rookie year. Hell of a player. Terrible thing, cancer is.”

“Yeah, thanks,” It had been months since your dad died from cancer, shocking the world of hockey. You thought by now you would have been used to hearing condolences from strangers, but they still made your ears burn and your face flush.

Simpson nodded courtly, opening the door to the conference room where two sharply dressed men and a woman sat.

“Gentlemen, this is Y/N L/N, the new PR rep for the North Island Daggers,” Simpson introduced you as the two men stood up, and you immediately knew who they were.

“Pete Mitchell and Tom Kazansky, co-owners of the North Island Daggers,” You answered, shaking both of their hands, “An honor to meet you, both.”

“The honor is all ours, Miss Hamilton,” Pete smiled at you as he sat down.

You wanted to correct him, but decided not to. Sometimes, it was easier to let people call you by your father’s last name, than try and explain why you dropped it and took up your mother’s maiden name. The world of sports was a game of who you know and who you belong to. If your last name was that of a hall of famer, you were almost guaranteed anything and everything you wanted, and you hated that. When you were vying for the spot on Team USA, you wanted it because you were skilled, not because of who your dad was. The same stood now, as you were trying to work your way up in the hockey world. You wanted this job because you were good at it, not because your dad was hockey royalty.

“I’m Mrs. Wright, the executive public relations and human resource officer,” The woman, who’s blonde hair was slicked back in an impressive bun, held her hand out to you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Wright,” You smiled at her, trying hard to not gawk at the huge diamond ring that sat on her finger.

“We’re glad you could join us on such short notice,” Tom spoke, “We know that you just got let go from the Stars for a shit reason if you ask me.”

“Thanks,” You muttered, clasping your hands on the conference table in front of you, “I am happy to be picked up by the Daggers though. My dad really enjoyed his time here as a rookie.”

“Damn, we missed him when he left,” Pete shook his head, as if he were remembering the “good ol’ days” as your father referred to him during his rookie season.

“The reason we hired you, Miss Hamilton,” Mrs. Wright spoke up, breaking up the reminiscing, “Is because we are in the middle of a PR storm. We have a player who has caused quite the controversy lately and is in danger of losing his sponsors. From our research, we know that you do fantastic work with building player profiles, turning rookies into known players, making the bad guys look like the good boys. We need you to do that.”

“Okay,” You nodded, “So am I taking over the social media accounts like I did in Dallas, or-”

Mrs. Wright looked apprehensively at Pete and Tom, who sat up a bit in their seats.

“Not necessarily,” Pete cleared his throat, “You will be paired one on one with one of our problematic players.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, before realization struck you, “Wait. . .” You held your finger up, “You hired me to be a glorified babysitter?”

— — —

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

Jake grunted as he set the barbell back on the rack above him. His gray workout t-shirt was drenched in sweat as he sat up, looking both his agent and trainer in the eye, “I’m fine on my own.”

“You got in a fight,” His agent, Steven, deadpanned.

“Everyone gets in fights, its hockey,” Jake shrugged as Javy handed him his water bottle.

“With your own teammate.”

Jake glanced over to the other side of the workout room, where Wren Holloway was working out with Bradley Bradshaw, still supporting a black eye from the fight that broke out a couple of days ago on the ice. The fight, which was being dubbed “The Dagger Civil War,” was definitely not a highlight Jake liked to have hanging over him. But in the game of hockey, sometimes the tension runs high, and in that particular game, Jake had gone out looking for a fight from the moment the puck first dropped. It was just unfortunate that his opponent was his teammate.

“Look,” Steven shifted on his feet, crossing his arms across his chest, “The fight is the least of our issues right now. We have sponsorships ready to pull out on you because you’ve been labeled the “hot head” and the “problematic child”. And what is this that I hear about an affair with the coach’s wife?”

Jake groaned, standing up from the workout bench, and taking the sweat towel from Javy’s hand. Both of them followed Jake through the weight room. The Daggers might’ve been the worst team in the NHL, having a history of one play-off appearance in the 70 years since they’ve been a team, they sure did have one of the nicest facilities Jake had ever been in. State of the art work-out and physical therapy rooms. Rehabilitation pools, and an indoor track. In-house chefs that served breakfast, lunch and dinner, plus tons of snack shops throughout the building. And the best part, two full sized practice rinks.

Jake walked over to the smoothie shack, where a bright-eyed hopeful girl sat down his regular smoothie order, his name with a heart around it.

“Here you go, Jake,” She batted her eyes as Jake took the smoothie, making a clear display of taking off the sticky note with her number on it and setting it back on the counter.

“Not interested, but thanks,” He nodded, turning back to Javy and Steven, who glared at him, “What?”

“You sleep with her too?” Steven asked and Javy snickered. Jake was going to shake his head no, but had to double check who it was behind the counter, before shaking his head. Steven rolled his eyes as Jake walked towards one of the rehab rooms.

The moment Jake laid down on the exam table, Javy got right to work. Javy and Jake were like a well oiled machine, they knew one another since they were kids, growing up next door to one another. They played on the same youth hockey team, until it became too expensive for Javy’s family to afford. It broke the young boy’s heart to have to give up the sport he loved, and Jake had begged his parents to help Javy be able to play. Even though the Seresins insisted on paying for Javy’s fees and equipment, the boy didn’t have the same passion for the sport as Jake did, and he thought it would be a waste. Instead, Javy found another way to be on the bench next to Jake, working as the team equipment manager, to athletic training assistant, to athletic trainer for the Daggers.

“Shoulder still bothering you?” Javy asked, grabbing Jake’s arm and moving it in a variety of ways.

“Yeah,” Jake grimaced, “Still has that whole clicking thing going on. Guess that hit from Svec was harder than I thought.”

Javy snickered, remembering the hit Jake suffered a few weeks ago, “He laid you out flat, man.”

“Shut up,” Jake grumbled.

“Mhm,” Steven cleared his throat, directing Jake’s attention back to him, “We weren’t done talking yet.” Jake rolled his eyes, which only seemed to infuriate his manager, “This is serious, Jake,” Steven sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Simpson wants you out, wants you so far gone from the Daggers, hell, probably even the National Hockey League.”

Jake scoffed, “I’m the best on the team."

“You haven’t been for weeks.”

Jake huffed again, knowing that Steven was right. He has been off his game for the past couple of weeks. Missing key plays and open teammates. Almost all his shots were deflected or totally missing the net. Not to mention, he felt like his skating had modeled that of a newborn calf, shaky and off balance. The hit from Svec several weeks ago, was just the tip of the iceberg of the list of injuries Jake seemed to have racked up in the past couple of weeks.

“Look, your spot is in danger.”

That got Jake’s attention, making him sit up from his laid back position, “What are you talking about?”

“There’s a kid down on the juniors that is amazing. He’s either been breaking or matching all your records. They are calling him the next you.”

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t really pay attention to any other league but the one he was currently in. Of course, he kept his eye out for any information about the national team. It had been his dream since he got to the NHL to play for Team USA and make it to the olympics. Playing on the junior team had been one of his greatest memories, and when he felt for the first time, he could actually make it in this sport.

How could he have ignored that there was someone breaking all his records?

“Who is this kid?” Jake asked.

“Drake Silvia. He’s signed to UMich, but also a projected first round draft pick,” Steven clenched his jaw, “They want him. And they will have him. . . at your expense.”

Jake felt like his heart dropped to his ass. He had never felt the feeling of fear for his spot on a team before. He’s always been the best. Always been the hot commodity that every team wants, that every coach would roll out the red carpet to get him to visit their team. Before he decided to go straight to the drafts, he had nearly every single college in the country and some in Canada, begging for an ounce of his attention.

“However,” Steven looked around the empty rehab room before leaning in close, “Henderson signed his retirement forms this morning.”

“What?!” Jake spat out, “He’s retiring?”

“No announcement will be made until the season is over,” Steven nodded, “But Henderson is done after this year. . . and the captain spot will be open. It could be yours.”

Besides making Team USA, being named captain has also been on the list of dreams for Jake. All the hockey greats have been captains. Gretzky, Crosby, Hamilton. Jake’s childhood bedroom had their jerseys hanging up in frames. To Jake, no one remembered you unless you were the captain, or won a Stanley Cup. And Jake wanted both. He wanted both as badly as he needed oxygen to live.

Jake sighed, knowing what the answer to his question was going to be, “So what do I have to do?”

A smirk arose on Steven’s cheeks, “If you want to stay on this team, and make captain, you need to abide by the rules. And that means having a babysit-” He shook his head correcting himself, “A personal PR rep.”

“Fine, I’ll take the babysitter.”

taglist: @dempy @marchingicenotes7 @abaker74 @aworldwideapart @atarmychick007 @hookslove1592 @whatislovevavy @lynnevanss @djs8891 @jessicab1991 @senawashere @bethbunnyy @bradshawbaby @coconut152 @jazminlahey20 @averyhotchner @misconceptionmistress @drxgxnslxyer @atinytinaa @hangmansgbaby @buckysteveloki-me @himbos-on-ice @krispybearbouquet @fandom-princess-forevermore @seitmai @ateliersss @kmc1989 @bradshawsvinyl @my-name-is-baby @ashloveshockey

taglist form

202 notes · View notes

cipher-fresh · 9 months ago

Text

Video essays about Superman that I like:

Satirizing Superman & Superman: Collateral Damage by Overly Sarcastic Productions

Superman Isn’t Jesus 1, 2 and 3 by Pillar of Garbage

World of Cardboard and Holy Cow. by Implicitly Pretentious (and a bunch of other videos on the channel!)

I Spent the Night with Superman and Superman is a Love Story by HiTop Films

Superman 1978 retrospective by Rowan J Coleman and retrospectives for movies after that

#Superman #Clark Kent #dc #video essay #video

356 notes · View notes

wolfjackle-creates · 9 months ago

Note

Oooooh, I love the wip ask game!! You know I'm a fiend for your Answer My Call fic, but... Danny is Vlark's Nephew is calling to me, that sounds like so much fun!

Look out tomorrow night (after 9 pm EST) for Answer My Call! Can you tell how much fun I'm having since this chapter takes place in Boston?

As for Danny is Clark's Nephew. I actually kinda forgot all about this one until I was looking through my "Prompt fills" document. And I followed the link I saved and what I wrote doesn't match it at all? So idk if I saved the wrong link or if I just took the barest bones and went in a totally new direction.

Here's the first 350ish words.

-----

Danny was practically vibrating as he followed Constantine through a random junk yard in Chicago and into a shed. He was going to meet the Justice League! And possibly join them! Totally worth the months he’d spent gathering every piece of John Constantine’s soul.

“All right, your highness. This is the Zeta Tube. They’re expectin’ us. After I make this introduction, we’re even, right? You’re not gonna demand anything else from me?”

“Nope! Your soul back for the chance to meet the Justice League with the potential of joining them. You’ve given them the files I sent you, right?”

“Course. Wouldn’t dream of reneging on a deal with the Ghost Prince.”

Danny laughed. “Sure you would.” Before Constantine could protest, Danny continued, “Now, how does this thing work?”

“You just stand right there. I’ll take care of it.”

Unfortunately, Constantine stood in a way that prevented him from seeing what he did. But then it didn’t matter because the room was filled with a strange energy that bombarded him. It tickled. Danny laughed even as the world spun away from him and reality shifted.

When everything came into focus around him again, he was facing a group of people. But his eyes focused on just one. Someone was talking, but Danny could only stare into equally shocked blue eyes.

“—om. Prince Phantom!” Constantine’s hiss finally got through the ringing in his ears.

Danny looked over at the wizard, but then he heard that clearing of the throat. He looked back at the group that had come to greet him. And there was Uncle Clark, dressed as Superman, standing with his arms crossed, foot tapping, and one eyebrow raised.

“I’m waiting for an explanation,” he said as soon as Danny met his eyes.

Danny opened his mouth. Closed it again. Swallowed. “Um…”

And then Constantine was talking again, thank the Ancients. “Superman, this is Prince Phantom, Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms, defeater of Pariah Dark, defender of—”

“Not you, Constantine.” Uncle Clark continued to stare straight at Danny. “I got a Christmas card from your parents just three months ago. I spoke to you on the phone last month on your sister’s birthday. You were alive then. Why do you suddenly not have a heartbeat.”

#dpxdc #clark kent #danny fenton #john constantine #ask game #danny is clark's nephew #and he's not impressed to see his supposed-to-be-alive nephew #at constantine's side #introduced as the *ghost* prince

246 notes · View notes

cherrirui-official · 1 year ago

Text

Friendlocke Violet Gijinkas (Part 1/7)

Since the edited episodes are starting to come out, I figured that bc of that and the fact that I've been keeping this in the back burner for a loooong while now, might as well complete all my friendlocke violet gijinkas!! Some are gonna stay the same while others are gonna have slight/ complete redesigns, so please keep that in mind!

I plan on posting them in order by groups of three, so there's gonna be seven parts in total, all of which I'll be linking here when done vvv

(Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven)

!! These will contain personal headcanons I have for the cast, little fun facts, and also spoilers for Friendlocke Violet (for both the edited vids and the streams) !!

@saltydkart-reblogs

And that's pretty much it, designs under the cut!

LARK:

HUGE nerd. spent most of his time during the Uva Academy studying different kinds of pokemon as well as different fighting styles he can utilize once he is able to go out on his own journey with his very own trainer! Too bad that didn't really help in the long run...

His entire wardrobe consists of McDonald's related outfits. It's fucking insane. He even has some from long LONG ago that aren't available anywhere else.

The bubble pattern on his hair is able to move and change. Nobody knows how this is possible, not even Lark himself. All Lark knows is that his hair looks incredibly stylish!

Speaking of bubbles, he has the ability to blow bubbles whenever and wherever he pleases!

Often keeps himself extremely clean and gets upset if even a small speck of dirt gets on him, despite this he somehow smells like McDonald's food and axe body spray. Disgusting. He's so cool!

Even after death he still likes to hang around the other team members as a ghost, often getting to know the newer members as well as reuniting with the old ones. Sometimes they see him, sometimes they don't. It usually depends.

SARA:

Due to being a human in her past life, Sara is able to actually speak with the other humans in the pokemon world. However she usually doesn't due to it being seen as extremely weird and out of place. She did slip up once while talking in the presence of Arven, who thought it was the weed making him hear things.

Oinkologne are usually unable to do much with their hooves but Sara spent nights practicing how to knit with her new hooves and now she's able to do it flawlessly. I don't know how she managed to do that but go queen!

When first joining the team she'd often have the urge to eat her food related companions. It was a strange time for Sara, but she managed to overcome it.

When Peppy gets sick, she usually is the one who nurses him back to health. She was a human once so she often is able to figure out whatever sickness Peppy has and treat it properly. I suppose she's like a second mother to him.

The bag she carries with her is full of thread that she collected from various Tarountula she encountered on the journey, as well as little things she knits together in her spare time.

For the most part, Sara forgives... but NEVER forgets.

Did you guys know that Sara has a new YouTube channel? Check it out!

Pastey:

Before joining the team, Pastey was a nameless wanderer. He's been down every road in Paldea and knows almost the entire region (except for Area Zero) like the back of his hand.

He's gotten hurt pretty badly throughout the run (ie. the Mikey fight, the Atticus fight, and ESPECIALLY the final battle), however, he does not gain any (physical) scars from those fights. This is bc he's basically an axolotl, and axolotls are usually able to heal without scarring.

Pastey's "arms" are, to put it simply, mud prosthetics. More info here vvv

Pastey HAS met Mall Bingo once before the run, however, he doesn't recognize her. The only reason he does not recognize her is bc she wears glasses. (You know how people somehow aren't able to recognize Superman bc he wears glasses in his civilian attire even tho his face remains the same? It's basically like that lmao)

Unlike the lightbulbs he eats, the gasoline he drinks isn't really mandatory to his diet. Gasoline is like alcohol to him and he drinks it like an absolute CHAMP.

He goes fishing when there's nothing else to do or when he can't sleep at night. He doesn't do this bc he thinks it's fun or anything, only bc it's a "good time passer" or so he claims. Other members of the team will often sit with him and vent out anything that's troubling them at the moment, and Pastey is always there to listen to them.

And that's pretty much it. Next is Joe, Hannah Ü, and Mykyie!

#I am a firm believer that Sara can and will beat ass #No i do NOT plan on making gijinka designs for Chatbike and Phil sorry guys #just getting that out of the way i know how much yall love phil /j /lh #Anyways it feels so good to finally start on this like holy moly #also idk when the others will be done... HOWEVER...#The sketches for Joe Hannah and Mikey are already pretty much done I just gotta make em digital #so ideally they'll be out pretty soonish I'd say... I hope #but yeah if anyone has any questions abt them feel free to send them in my askbox and I'll be happy to answer them as best as i can!#<- No anons tho sorry yall #Also I need to be honest here Lark's outfit kinda does look atrocious and I couldve changed it... BUT...#I honestly thought it was WAY funnier if Lark's attire looked weird on purpose so I kept it like that lol #Anyways sorry for the word vomit here are the tags #friendlocke #friendlocke violet #saltydkdan #should my gijinkas have their own tag...? Sure why not #Violet Gijinka Au #cherris canvas

355 notes · View notes

magewritesstories · 8 months ago

Note

Hi i was just wondering if you could write something of James potter and Fem!reader (established relationship) where basically they are at a Gryfindor party and basically there is this guy who has a huge crush on her and is being low-key creepy about it and it’s just James being the protective bf he is.

If not don’t worry!!!! x

[ ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ] ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ, ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ

summary: James Potter doesn't share anything, especially not his girlfriend TW: underage drinking note: ngl, I don't see James as the jealous type, but he is super protective. Also idek if Amos was in their year, but for the sake of the story he is.

JAMES POTTER IS NOT A JEALOUS GUY.

Really, he isn't. But dear Godrick he's never wanted to bash someone's head in with a bottle of firewhiskey so badly—but that might just be the empty bottle talking.

He watched from a good ten feet away as Amos Diggory flirted with you with a wide smirk.

As mentioned before, James wasn't a jealous guy. He couldn't blame the stares you got whilst walking through the halls, or the way some eyes would linger when you laughed a little too loudly at one of his dumb jokes.

You were stunning, and James didn't blame people for seeing that. Hell, he was glad they did. Besides, he couldn't ignore the tiny ego boost he got from the fact that at the end of the day he was your boyfriend and not any of them.

Amos however didn't seem to understand that.

James's eyes narrowed as he slung his arm around you oh-so casually as he told a (probably stupid) joke. You gave him a small smile, a polite one—yep, definitly a stupid joke.

"You planning on murdering Diggory by glaring, mate?" Siruis asked, walking over to his best friend with a grin, "I'm afraid you're not one of those guys from Peter's superhero books—hey wormy, which one was it? With the laser eyes?"

Peter looks up from his drink in confusion, "Superman?"

"Yeah, that one," Sirius snapped his fingers, "So, is that your plan? Burning Diggory with you laser eyes?"

"The only thing burning in here is Prongs," Remus replied with a laugh. James rolled his eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lily decided to join in on the conversation and added in a teasing tone: "Really, 'cause you look a little uhm... green."

"I'm not jealous, I don't get jealous," He replied with a scoff, glancing in your direction again, "Especially not of guys like Amos Diggory."

His friends all gave him sceptical looks as he grabbed another bottle of fire whiskey. "Why would I be jealous. I have nothing to be jealous about," He insisted, staring intently as Amos dragged you and Dorcas towards the dance floor.

"What about the fact that he's already asked out Y/N like three times?" Peter replied casually. The entire friendgroup turned towards him, "What?"

He jsut shrugged, "Yeah, he just asked her out three times in the past two hours—watching him get rejected twice was awkward, the third time it was just sad."

"And you're mentioning this now?!"

"I thought you knew, I mean you've been staring at them the entire night."

James put down his bottle of firewhiskey and made his way over to the two of you.

"That's not fair—you're just Slughorn's favourite," You replied, smiling as you whirled the drink in your hand.

Amos grinned at you, "Yeah, well, maybe if you spent more time actually listening during class you'd be able to catch up with me. Maybe."

You rolled you eyes at the statement. "Oh, please, Diggory, if anything I'm doing you a favour. If I actually tried during classes I'd leave you in the dust."

"Oh, yeah?" The blond asked, raising a brow at you, "Maybe I should return the favour by taking you to Honeydukes this weekend."

"Hmm, no, I think I'm good," You reply as politely as you can, mustering a small smile.

This was the fourth time Amos had asked you out in the past two hours. And also the fourth time you'd rejected him.

How did he not know you had a boyfriend? You'd think that after that kiss (read: pretty much a make-out session) with James after Gryffindor beat (read: wiped the floor with) Hufflepuff last quidditch match, people would know the two of you were dating.

Apparantly not.

"Besides—" A loud, familiar voice sounded as James put his arm around you shoulder— "We've already got plans for this weekend."

The brunette give you a sloppy kiss and a satisfied grin, "Don't we, babe?"

You smile and nod. "Mhm, you promised me a drink at the Three Broomsticks."

Amos looked between you and James as you gave eachother lovesick stares.

Maybe you were laying it on extra thick just for Amos but they were lovesick stares nonetheless.

"Oh, uhm, well then..." He stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence. James turned to him with a raised brow, "Well, maybe you should be heading towards the firewhiskey."

Amos seemed to take the hint. Finally. He quickly scurried away and out of your sight.

You let out a sigh, "Thank you—for someone so smart that guy really doesn't know how to take a hint."

"Well, good thing you got me then," James replied, grinning from ear to ear as he kissed you again, "Your own personal superman."

You swung your arms around his neck and smiled into the kiss, "Mhm, so lucky."

words → 813

#james potter x reader #james potter #marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader #james potter headcanons #james potter fic #james potter x you #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #amos diggry #gryffindor x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders x y/n #james potter x y/n

358 notes · View notes