#it's already almost february what the actual fuck

[anachronistic-falsehood]

hahaha who else up thinkin about the inevitable passage of time and how me being in college was two years ago and it literally feels like it was yesterday and i feel like i haven't even changed as a person at all since then and yet i feel like a completely different person at the same time and how watching old dsmp videos makes me feel nostalgic for three years ago and yet i remember getting into the dsmp like it was just a couple months ago and someday i will likely think back on this day with nostalgia and have this exact same crisis and time feels like it's moving way too fast and i will never have the time to accomplish the things i want to accomplish and leave my mark on the world before i die hahaha anyone else thinking about that

[captainreecejames]

Down Bad || My Ex is a Footballer OP81 Edition

links [masterlist][my ex series masterlist]

summary it's time you date someone actually your age

pairings ex!andy robertson x reader, oscar piastri x reader

warnings not a good relationship with robertson, cursing

notes guys I'm not a liverpool fan so this was hard for me [kidding]. this took so long because I had trouble getting the dynamic right also I got a new job and working two places has not been easy but I gotta make money in this world.

yn's message august 2022 ---------

ynusername posted august 2022 --------

liked by estebanocon, andyrobertson94 and others

ynusername it's race week again yay!!! But I can't be with my boyfriend booooo

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username1 girl drop him!!!

username2 no boooo actually yayyy!!!

username3 shame she can't be with andy for the start of the season ↳ username4 girl be serious, season started almost a month ago and she was at every home game ↳ username5 yn is a diehard liverpool fan don't worry she was supporting her man

andyrobertson94 gonna miss you babe! ↳ ynusername miss you more!

alo_oficial excited !! 🩷

username6 yn I mean this in the nicest way possible, he's too old for you and he's not good

ynusername posted december 2022 -----

liked by oscarpiastri, alpinef1team and others

ynusername 22 season recap! Thank you so much to Alpine for bringing me into the world of f1 and introducing me to some amazing people, I will always be grateful for the chance you took on me and have love in my heart for you! Now on to being at anfield 24/7 to support my man!!!

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username11 ahhhhh oscar!! I' m fine everything is fine

oscarpiastri have a good break yn! ↳ ynusername you too ossie!

username12 ossie??! i'm screaming i love it already. alpine why did you have to break up my bestfriends that i didn't know were best friends?

estebanocon gonna miss having you around yn! ↳ ynusername oh estie! i'll see you around don't worry.

username13 why the fuck is Andy not commenting? ↳ username14 cause he's a little bitch 👍🏼 ↳ username13 oop

alpinef1team we love you yn! ↳ ynusername gonna miss you babe

username15 damn Andy finally got what he wanted and won't even congratulate her on doing this job ↳ username16 I'm new here, what did Andy want? ↳ username15 he has publicly wanted yn to not work and basically be a housewife, also he's like almost 10 years older than her so it's like weird he wants her to be a kept woman

liverpoolfc we're ready for you! ♥️ by ynusername

yn's messages --------

twitter february 2023 --------

ynusername posted august 2023 -----

liked by landonorris, lance_stroll and others

ynusername first half of the season done with my boss featuring ossie when he sees me sneak into the mclaren garage

oscarpiastri that's literally a lie I don't look like that when you come in ↳ ynusername then why do I have a picture of you looking like that??? ↳ landonorris gonna back him up on this one he does NOT look like this when he sees you ↳ username21 WHAT DO YOU KNW LANDO AHARE WITH THE CLASS

username22 guys not to be dramatic but there's been no Liverpool mention in months, I think she broke up with andy ↳ username23 DONR GET ME EXCITED

ynusername posted december 2023 --------

liked by carmenmmundt, georgerussell63 and others

ynusername sad that the season is over but happy I get a short break from being a full time Alonso Wrangler and part time student. Also lance is sad he hasn't been in a season photo dump so here have this

carmenmmundt 🩶🩶

lance_stroll wtf? ↳ ynusername 🫶🏼 ↳ lance_stroll I sent that to mari ↳ ynusername and she sent it to me ↳ mariloublg_ and I'd do it again ↳ lance_stroll DONT GANG UP ON ME

username34 TWO(2) OSCAR PICTURES? we're winning oscaryn truthers ↳ username35 we need him in the first picture now, no swiping is the next goal

username36 wait, yn are you in classes right now? ↳ ynusername I'm taking 2 classes right now remotely for my masters! ↳ username36 OMG you go girl! ↳ ynusername thanks babe

february 2024

landonorris posted on his story

replies to your story

oscarpiastri delete this

landonorris HAHAHAH

alo_oficial working on getting her to realize

landonorris they are both so dumb

mclaren get a picture together

landonorris you got it boss 🫡

username36 IT'S YN RIGHT! TELL ME IT'S YN LN

ynusername posted march 2024

liked by astonmartinf1, oscarpiastri and others

ynusername and we're back!!! Starting off with some helmet swaps and getting papa stroll a debut on the page

landonorris damn papa stroll gets a pic before me?? ↳ lance_stroll it took me a year to get a debut and even then it was a shit one so shut up ↳ georgerussell63 haha you guys suck ↳ ynusername it's cause Carmen bribed me ↳ lance_stroll and mari didn't? ↳ ynusername she did, that picture is what she wanted ↳ landonorris so what youre saying is I need a gf to bribe you ↳ oscarpiastri damn guess youre never getting your debut on this page ↳ landonorris and how the fuck did you get here???

username41 where's that girl that wanted oscar on the first slide? ↳ username35 RIGHT HERE AND I'M THRIVING

lance_stroll also landonorris that's mr. stroll to you ↳ landonorris okay...

ynusername posted july 2024

liked by landonorris, alo_oficial and others

ynusername oscar i don't have the words to describe how proud i am of you right now but just know that I always believed in you and always will

username51 ughhhh, when will it be my turn

username52 OSCAR WIN SO YN POSTS JUST OSCAR YES

username53 username35 aRE YOU OKAY GIRL? ↳ username35 NO I'M NOT

username35 JUST OSCAR IN EVERY PIC??? AND HE'S CLEARLY LOOKING AT YN? IS THIS MY BIRTHDAY PRESENT?

username54 the way oscar was looking for her >>>

alo_oficial congratulations oscar! ↳ oscarpiastri thank you nando

oscarpiastri thank you yn, you're support means everything to me

username55 no offense but I was kinda expecting more from you here ↳ username35 you want her to confess her undying love for oscar here on a social media post? you want her to do it on the internet instead of just to him privately so you can consume media and be in the presence of a relationship that you clearly have no respect for nor no need to be apart of because they don't know you?? that's what you want? be fucking for real ♥️ by mariloublg_ ↳ username55 first of all you also have a parasocial relationship with them, second of all, it's not weird for me to want her to express more about this when his team was shit to him ↳ username35 i can be excited about her posting him and still fucking respect their privacy. they don't need to post anything for us and it is a PRIVILEDGE that we get to see this. if you make it weird for them and ruin their PRIVATE relationship because you personally think she should be more vocal on social media then maybe you need to do some reflection on how you interact with people

ynusername posted august 2024

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

ynusername summer break is over, now I go back to being a student

load more comments

landonorris yay i can have my osc back ↳ ynusername uhhh... no, you can borrow MY ossie ↳ landonorris agree to disagree ↳ oscarpiastri don't I get a say in this? ↳ ynusername depends ↳ oscarpiastri well i pick you yn ↳ ynusername then yes you get a say

lance_stroll it's about damn time ↳ estebanocon SAYS YOU ↳ alo_oficial none of you have spent as much time with her as I have! I'm the only one that get's to complain ↳ ynusername I was not that bad ↳ alo_oficial yes you were ↳ estebanocon yes you were ↳ lance_stroll yes you were ↳ pierregasly yes you were

oscarpiastri haha babe you have a crush on me? ↳ charles_leclerc you were just as bad ↳ landonorris what he said ↳ oscarpistri damn okay

username35 ahhhh!!! congrats yn and oscar ↳ ynusername thank you! and we both appreciate you being so supportive

username63 see everyone, it pays to be a decent human being! ^^

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Both being in the NSFW content creation sphere, you and Yunho find a mutually beneficial piece of content to film. Pairing: NSFW Audio Creator!Yunho x Only Fans Creator!reader Tropes: Adult Content creator au, friends with benefits au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, the reader is smaller than Yunho by a good amount Smut Warnings: recorded sex, blindfolding, auralism, protected sex, implications of a hand kink, use of the name “daddy”, pet names, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, ripping clothing Word Count: 2,416 Host Tag: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye February Filth Masterlist Before You Interact

Listen to ♡ Often by The Weekend

“You’re sure you’re not going to get kidnapped?” Yeri checks for the tenth time.

“I’m sure!” You laugh, “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve talked with him before, too, several times. You know Yunho and I are friends.”

Yeri’s jaw falls to the floor. You meet her eyes through your mirror after you finish fixing your makeup. You look at her as if you’ve just said the most mundane sentence in the world. On the other hand, she looks as if you just told her you’re not actually who you told her you are.

“You mean to tell me–”

“I haven’t fucked him. Not in the literal sense, at least.” You explain, “We’ve fucked around in DMs before a few times but nothing in person yet. We’re genuinely friends, too, it’s not just about our jobs. He’s seen me. I’ve seen him. We’re both being safe. Now go back to your own apartment unless you want to witness something you probably don’t want to.”

She shakes her head and scrunches her nose. You laugh at her action and start walking her toward your front door. You start to pull your door open to let her out when she starts to sound like a broken record.

“Seriously, if you think he might–”

She’s cut off by someone clearing their throat. She turns around, and you look up. He’s right in the doorway, looking devastatingly handsome. Yeri buttons her lip and slips past him. You bid her goodbye as she’s already halfway to the elevator.

“Come on in.” You smile at the tall man, moving to let him in.

“It’s nice to see you in person finally.” He smiles

You nod, mouth suddenly dry, “I hope it wasn’t too bad of a trip here.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “It was actually really nice. It’s beautiful out.”

You’ve been friends online for a while now, and this sudden awkward tension is almost suffocating. Yunho smiles at you and takes your hand in his. You look at your connected hands before looking back up to his face. You’ve seen him before in pictures you exchanged in the past. Some of them are more distracting than others. Seeing him in person seems to create a whole new level of devastation for your panties and your heart at the same time.

He drops your hand and leans against a bookshelf at the edge of your entryway. He’s nearly the same height as it. You need a stool to reach the top shelf of it. Now you take in just how tall he is. You knew he was tall. Knowing a fact versus seeing it is so different. You already know his cock is big too. You’ve been blessed to see it several times. Your mind starts to wander to your activities planned for the afternoon.

“You okay?” Yunho’s eyes fill with concern, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. We can just hang out.”

“No, no,” you chuckle, “I just forgot how… big you are…” You admit.

Yunho smirks as he leans over you while leaning against the bookshelves. You gulp at the sight.

“Did you, sweetheart?”

Fuck.

Your mouth goes dry again, trying to find a proper response. You knew damn well what the plan was walking into today. Both of you had planned out the entire scene in depth to ensure safety and quality content for your followers. Hearing his voice, seeing that stupidly hot smirk, everything about him renders you speechless.

“Sweetheart?” He calls again, “You still with me?”

You nod, “Just… thinking…”

“About?” He leans in close enough that you can feel his breath against your lips.

“We have a bit of content to film, and–” You stop yourself and stare at his lips for a moment.

“And?” He questions.

Your gaze stays fixated on his lips, “And… I fucking need you right now.”

Yunho doesn’t waste a moment closing the gap between you. The way he pulls you tight against him, combined with the heat of the kiss, makes your knees buckle. You stand there for a while, just kissing him. Your neck hurts a bit from stretching up to reach him, though you’re sure he is hurting more from craning down. By the time you pull away, your lips are puffy and wet with spit. His aren’t in much better condition; he has a bit of your lipgloss smeared near his own lips.

“Is your camera all set up?” He asks, his voice slightly raspier than earlier.

“Mm,” you hum, “You’re okay with your face being on camera?”

“We already talked about that.” He reminds you, “It’s okay. My face isn’t fully a secret to my audience.”

You take his hand in yours again and guide him toward your room. As you had told him before, your camera is already set up in front of your bed. You reach over and press record before you even say another word to him. As much as you’d love to get wrecked by him now, you know the goal is to get content. Your high-quality microphone is already connected and tested to ensure it gets the best recording it can. After all, it’s not just being uploaded to your Only Fans. The audio from today is being edited and uploaded to Yunho’s NSFW audio subscription as well. Short free clips are going to be posted on both of your Twitter accounts in addition to helping with the traction. Before you get in the view of the camera, you slip your shorts off from under your oversized T-shirt. Per the agreed-upon scene, you’re playing the role of his pretty little stay-at-home girlfriend and won’t be needing pants if you’re at home all day.

“You ready, princess?”

You know he’s put on his acting, but he still searches for any uncertainty in your eyes.

“I’m ready, Daddy.” you respond, voice sweet and needy.

Despite neither of you truly having a daddy kink, you both agreed to that title for Yunho to both protect his identity and play into the content you both know people want. You sit on the side of your bed and look up at him with wide, faux-innocent eyes. Yunho hums and leans down to cage you against the bed. One hand slips back a bit to grab a silk tie just behind you. He pulls it off of the bed and leans back a bit to hold it between you.

“We’re gonna play a little game, okay?”

You nod, “Will I get to feel you?”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’ll feel me. You just won’t see a damn thing.”

Yunho leans forward again and kisses you sloppily. The wet sounds of your kiss are enough to make you rub your thighs together. He, of course, notices it and grips your thigh with his other hand. Massaging the flesh, he pushes your oversized shirt up to expose your soaked panties. He guides you back further until you’re nearly laid down. He drops the tie just long enough to pull the shirt off of your body. You’re only left in your panties while he’s fully clothed. That doesn’t last long, though. He pulls his own shirt off. You appreciate his toned body and end up fixated on the noticeable bulge under his sweats. You gulp before meeting his eyes again.

“Can’t I suck you off for a bit? I wanna be a good girl for you.”

Yunho gives you an endearing smile, holding your chin in his hand, “That’s so sweet of you, baby. As much as Daddy would love that, I have other plans for us today. I’m gonna blindfold you now, okay? You know our cues.”

“Colors, if I can speak. If not, two taps for a break and three for a full stop.”

He kisses you again, “That’s my girl.”

It’s for the camera, you know that. Still, it doesn’t stop you from nearly melting at the praise. He takes the black silk tie and carefully secures it around your head, checking to make sure it’s not too loose or tight. You feel him guide you to lie down on your bed and push your thighs apart to be flat across the bed as well. Every sound sounds so vivid. The soft sound of his hands moving across the bedding, the gentle sounds of his breath by your ear, even the light creaking of your bed as he puts his full body weight on it. A gasp escapes your lips as he leaves more wet kisses along your throat. The noises he makes as he kisses you while letting his hands wander are enough to make your panties even more soaked than they previously were.

“You’re so jumpy, baby.” He chuckles, “Relax, let me make you feel good.”

“Daddy,” you whine, bucking your hips when his hand trails along your inner thigh.

“Yes, princess?”

You gasp when his kisses reach your chest, “Need–” 

You let out a broken whine when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples. His fingers lightly trail up and down your thighs, intentionally skipping over the place you need him most. Each time you buck your hips toward his touch, he lightly nips at your chest. The lack of vision only heightens your other senses more. Each time he so much as grazes your body, you jolt in reaction. Each word he says and each noise he makes sends you into another plane of existence.

You feel his body pull away from you, leaving behind a waft of his addictive scent. You feel as he pulls your panties to the side and strokes through your folds. The squelching sounds that come from your lower lips are loud. Each rub against your clit, each time his pretty, long fingers push into you, you feel yourself crave him more. He fucks you on his fingers for a while. His thumb presses perfectly against your clit while two of his other fingers thrust in and out of you at a pace that makes you see stars. His unoccupied hand holds one of your thighs down. His fingers dig into your skin in a way that may leave bruises, not that you mind at all.

“You hear that, sweetheart? You’re so fucking wet. What’s got you such a wreck? Hmm?”

“Daddy, I– fuck! Everything, it’s everything!”

“Everything? It’s how you keep whining and moaning while I finger your pretty little pussy, the way I’m speaking to you, the fact that you can’t see a damn thing. You’re at my mercy, sweetheart.”

You want to close your thighs so badly due to the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. A light slap on your thigh stops your action. A moment later, Yunho pulls his fingers from inside you, and you feel his weight lift off of the bed. The sound of foil ripping fills the space, followed by a low, growly groan. Though you can’t see it, you know Yunho kept his promise to put a condom on.

“Daddy,” your voice wavers with uncertainty.

You feel his hand rest against your waist, “It’s okay, princess. Daddy didn’t leave you all alone. I’m right here.”

The small gesture of reassurance makes your heart flutter for a brief moment. You feel the bed sink again and feel his bare skin against yours. He places a sweet kiss against your lips and whispers a quick check-in.

“You want Daddy to fuck you now?”

“Please, want Daddy’s cock, please.” You whine.

You feel the head of his cock rubs through your folds a few times before pushing in. Your panties are still pushed to the side, though they aren’t terribly in the way. Yunho continues to shower you with filthy comments and praises. Your hands fly forward and feel their way to his hair. Pulling him forward more, you pull him into another sloppy kiss. His thrusts are loud, and the squelching sound of your pussy is louder than it was with just his fingers. Your moans are muffled slightly by his kisses, but still, they’re loud. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it hard to know exactly what is happening.

“Wanna see you.” You request.

“My princess wants to see me now? I thought you liked not knowing what’s coming.” He teases.

“I- I do, but I wanna see Daddy now. Please?”

Yunho gives a particularly punctuated thrust, “Alright, princess, pick up your head a little, and I’ll take it off.”

You do as he says, and light floods your field of view a split second later. It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the light. Once they do, you’re met with the sight of Yunho above you, sat up straight on his knees as he thrusts into you. He has a heated, lust-driven look in his eyes that brings you closer to your orgasm.

“Are you attached to these panties, baby?”

You shake your head at his question. A moment later, the telltale sign of clothing ripping fills the room. You break eye contact for a moment to see that he ripped the seat of your panties and was seconds away from ripping the waistband, too. Yunho smirked at you and leaned in close to your ear.

“I’ll buy you a new pair later, or I’ll pay for you to get some new ones.”

“Daddy, wanna– gonna–”

You’re not on Earth anymore. Your mind is so far gone, lost in the obsession you’ve discovered you have with his voice and the filthy, debauched noises being created in the space. In all honesty, you didn’t even process what he just said to you. All you can think about is the fact that you’re mere moments from your orgasm.

“Pretty baby wants to cum?” He asks, gripping onto your now bare hips.

“Please,” small tears form in your eyes, “Please, please!”

Yunho smirks at you again, “Cum.”

Your orgasm rips through you, stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before. Yunho’s thrusts grow stronger and faster. As you ride out your high, he reaches his own. He releases his load into the condom with a loud groan. His eyebrows furrowed together while his eyes remain locked on your own. You both start to fall from cloud nine around the same moment. Yunho leans down to hover above you and places a small kiss against your collarbone.

“You did such a good job, pretty girl. I’m so proud of you.”

That last comment wasn’t for the camera. That was specifically for you.

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2024© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

[britcision]

FRIENDS IT IS HERE. As promised even! We are technically just under 20k for this chapter, but still not small enough that cutting it in half has stopped it from brutally murdering the app, so…. We’ll see how this posts! 😅

I did myself a whole honkin’ reread on the whole thing too, refreshed my lil reminders of what I named things and all the lil threads I was playing with… and hot damn it’s a beast huh?

The good news is, although we are getting into plot, we are getting out of the heavy stuff, at least for the next little bit! Back to our silly happy fun times with the boys 🥰

And, y’know, dealing with Jason’s death and first transformation and all. Totally all fine! Nothing to worry about! 😇

Today’s chapter is a lil Bruce-heavy in this front half because the main thing stopping me was that I got most of the way through before I realized I needed to rewrite Jason’s entire first scene, but I’m a lot happier with it now 😁

First Chapter and AO3:

Previous Chapter:

——————————

The Finished Core part 1

When it finally happened, Jason’s core coming in was pretty anticlimactic. For all they’d worried it might trigger a transformation, rile up the pit, or even have a physical shockwave… the event itself was almost disappointing. Buried busily in some paperwork for the library, Jason himself hadn’t actually noticed.

He’d already started feeling what he thought might be his core over the past few days; like a vibrating ball of energy, usually in the middle of his chest (although it wandered in all directions). Which would make the knot of tension that sometimes sat in his gut and sometimes went as far up as his throat… probably Pitty.

Not fun having a distinct sensation that went along with everything else the Pit was. Did nothing at all to ease his worries about what the hell would happen when they were both actually completed.

But when the day finally came… yeah, nothing. The soft, warm glow in his chest when he thought about the project had grown steadily stronger over the week and a bit he’d known Danny at that point, so he hadn’t really paid enough attention to notice a change.

They’d still been seeing each other every day, although now that the new school semester had started up it had slowed down to a couple hours in the evening. Jason had dived headlong into his restoration project both on Frostbite’s advice, and to keep himself from counting the hours. Which, apparently, worked?

The biggest disruption was actually Danny blasting in through the wall not a minute later, invisible until he dived through one of Jason’s freshly legal goons and almost knocked the table over. Luckily there were no actual Red Hood links lying around - Catherine’s name was staying clean, which was for the best since Jason still hadn’t thought of a way to bring it up.

Even now, back from another appointment with Frostbite to confirm all was well, Jason didn’t actually feel any different? It was official though; both cores were complete, and now all they had to do was wait until the pit matured enough to actually leave Jason’s body and do its own thing.

Now that he didn’t have any choice but to confront it, he couldn’t have said what he’d expected anyway, but… well, surely there should have been something? More energy? More corruption? Hell, even increased ghost senses or some indication that the powers would be coming in.

According to Danny, intangibility usually came with the pit dropping out of your stomach and feeling floaty. Accidental floating came with a head rush or feeling like falling. Invisibility just fucking happened.

All he felt was weirdly normal? The fancy ecto ice was working, and his little ghost succulent - that or all the time with Danny; even Pitty’s flares of emotion were manageable. The green haze hadn’t come back since meeting Lady Gotham.

And okay, maybe he was pushing that by going right back to the manor the next day, but listen. Frostbite had reminded him to do calming tasks, since Pitty should start being more aware of their surroundings now.

Baking with Alfred was as calming and soothing as Jason could imagine, without stapling himself to Danny in classes. And sure, he’d helped with Danny’s homework the past couple nights, but the guy would get sick of him eventually. Faster if they stayed attached at the hip.

(And that had been another “fun” tidbit Frostbite had dropped on them; if they were actually making their own ghost baby, they’d have been able to trade the core off between them. Jason hadn’t thought anything could make that idea sound appealing, but if he coulda just stuffed Pitty into someone else… well, he probably wouldn’t actually wish its corruption and constant tantrums on anyone else, but having a break woulda been nice.)

Now that his core was done, technically the daily hanging out probably wasn’t as necessary. So long as Jason had some backup plans to keep himself calm and in control. Which should mean that they could go from hanging out as a necessary chore to just… friends.

And since no one in the city wound Jason up like Bruce, if he happened to also be at the manor he’d have a trial-by-fire for his shiny new core. He’d kept his word and tapped out of patrol since meeting Lady Gotham (and apparently Harley had taken the manor in fire and glory the night after and locked Bruce… somewhere for two full days), so he’d not heard from B since.

According to Tim, Constantine hadn’t returned to Gotham at all.

The thought of their names only stirred angry bubbles from Pitty, and Jason absolutely wasn’t self destructive or a masochist, so he was just testing to see how far that’d last. How careful he’d need to be, and how aware the little guy was.

So obviously he wasn’t even all the way into the manor before he ran into the man himself.

Stopping short, Jason’s fist clenched more from force of habit than any actual desire. Sucking in a deep breath, he thought of his ghost succulent (which had started glowing faintly blue a couple nights ago, which was hopefully a good thing?) and carefully unclenched. Nodded a little stiffly.

This would be the first time they’d been alone together since… shit, he didn’t even know. He hadn’t seen the guy without the buffer of at least one other bat in months.

“Bruce,” he said warily, half hoping the man could just… be normal. For once. Nod, say hi, fuck off about his own business. He couldn’t still be on his anti-Danny crusade, could he?

The man actually flinched, face twitching through a couple of expressions Jason couldn’t even guess at. A sudden urge between his shoulder blades did nothing to help, distracting him long enough for everything to be smoothed under the usual masks.

If Bruce just had a damn aura… okay, that’d be one change with the completed core. All of his attempts to reach out with his own aura before had basically involved his whole body actually leaning in the same direction.

That… urge, itch between his shoulders, if that had been his aura trying to reach out, felt more like an entirely new muscle group. Curiosity won and Jason focused, trying to follow the urge and reach out… and wasn’t sure it had worked at all.

Because all he could feel was sorrow and regret, and that didn’t sound like B. At all. His compartmentalizing was out the ass, sure, but what the hell would he actually feel sorry for?

“Jason?” And from the sound of it, not the first time he’d said his name. Great.

Shelving the apparently-faulty aura for now, Jason frowned back.

“I’m here to see Alfred.” It wasn’t exactly a warning. Wasn’t exactly a threat, although it carried the possibility. Meant that if B pissed him off enough to leave, he’d face some British disapproval.

Bruce’s shoulders sagged just a little, and then he drew himself up, his face firm and resolved. Jason tensed automatically; if he actually tried to bar him from seeing Danny face to face, would he still be able to walk away?

That was why he’d brought the glacierfrost. Slipping a hand into his back pocket, he crushed a crystal quickly before the man could open his mouth. Wintergreen mint burst across the back of his tongue, another brief flicker of distraction that, for some reason, came with another pang of sorrow.

“I’m sorry.”

Jason nearly stumbled, and he hadn’t even been moving. Bruce looked… tired, all of a sudden. More tired than he could remember ever seeing him.

“Wait… what?”

Bruce gave him a sad smile.

“It’s been brought to my attention… multiple times… that you should have heard that from me alone first. And then I kept adding more and more to be sorry for. And I know you don’t want to see me, so now seems like the best time to start.” It was jerky, and awkward, and probably the most uncomfortable Jason had ever seen Bruce in a conversation.

Which only served to confuse him further. Bruce overplanned everything; he never acted without at least two layers of backups. It was why he had a million plans for every possible micro-scenario. He didn’t do spontaneous.

“What are you even talking about?” He asked, half exasperated, and Bruce’s smile widened a fraction. That only made it more self deprecating.

“There are too many things to count, but… Jason, I’m sorry I sprung the apology on you at the gala. I thought having the world as my witnesses would show you I meant it, but I should have asked first. I should have apologized first, to you. Alone. I’m… aware what it says about me that I couldn’t.” He was almost wearing one of Brucie’s self-deprecating smiles now, but the edges were raw. Unpolished. Certainly not camera ready.

Real?

Jason’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his brain entirely short-circuited. Of all the things Bruce could have said to him… of all the things the man might apologize for, he’d honestly forgotten all about the damn gala speech.

Forcing himself to focus, he folded his arms and regarded his former father figure warily.

“Sure, that’s a place to start,” he agreed, more sarcastically than he’d meant to. But he couldn’t take it back.

There was another moment of stiffness, and then Bruce’s shoulders sagged as well as he breathed out, still looking… well, so much more human. More breakable, more fallible. Or was that just from hearing him admit he’d been wrong?

“I do mean it, Jason. I did mean it,” he said softly, piercing blue eyes unusually gentle as he looked him over, and suddenly Jason knew what was bothering him.

The mask. The iron mask of Batman, the bumbling shield of Brucie. B always had a mask, over every interaction. Every situation, every possible scene, B always had a character to play. And he played them well.

That was what looked wrong about him. He wasn’t… intentional. His posture was open and unthreatening, his face lax in a way it never was while he held every muscle in check.

This was just actual, sincere B.

Jason wasn’t completely sure why that made him want to run or cry, but it said a fuck of a lot about him too.

More that he just couldn’t bring himself to return it.

Sucking in a sharp breath, seriously considering grabbing for another crystal, he nodded sharply.

“Okay. Now what.” Because that was the thing; Jason had never wanted B to be sorry that he hadn’t come for Jason. That he finally hadn’t been on time to save him from himself.

He didn’t want the apology, he wanted things to change. To be better. For Bruce to accept that it had happened, and Jason was who he was now because he’d decided to be, not the pits or Tallia or the Joker.

He wanted so many things.

Bruce was searching his face, eyes sharp even as he consciously kept the rest of the expression open. Jason could see the tick of muscle in his cheek. Fuck, was it that hard for Bruce not to put on the act?

After a moment, he spread his hands. A gesture of peace? Not holding a weapon, not tensed for an attack?

“That’s all. For now. I just… wanted you to know. I’m sorry. And I’m…” the expression pulled a little, becoming pained, “I have been told I am overreacting to the news from Amity Park as well. I should trust your judgement. So I’m pulling myself from the case to focus on the Anti-Ecto Acts.”

This time Jason’s jaw just dropped. B… Bruce never. Never pulled himself from a case. Not for broken bones, ruptured organs, not even if he’d died.

It was almost worse than the rage; all of a sudden he was lost at sea, the one grounding, immovable rock in his life swept away. Part of him was even angry at that - at B suddenly deciding that now, this time he was going to be reasonable.

When all Jason expected from him was judgement, antagonism, stupid overbearing demands and being held at arm’s length, now all of a sudden the Bat was human.

It was too late to pretend the moment hadn’t happened, to completely hide his shock, but he also couldn’t stop the bluster from rising. Not the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously, even when every part of him that had been Robin desperately hoped this was real.

“And what the hell brought that on?” Not the accusation in his voice, although for once Bruce didn’t rise to it. He just chuckled dryly, like he’d been expecting Jason’s reaction.

“Because you were right.”

And now Jason was fully on edge again, scanning the man more closely for any signs of hypnotism, mind control, that this was a clone or a replacement. A trap or a trick. Because B… Bruce would never…

Bruce raised both hands quickly, possibly expecting Jason to just… jump him. Which, to be fair, would have been a more normal interaction.

“You were the one who brought the Amity Park situation to our attention. And you’re right, that I can’t expect your doctor or any other ghost to come here to help you until it is safe for them to do so,” he added quickly, and Jason rocked back onto his heels.

Of course, the caveat. That made sense, bitter in the back of his throat as it was. Just an inarguable set of facts.

Not like he’d ever actually admit that Jason’s judgement was reliable or anything. Folding his arms again (partly to stop his fists from clenching), he gave Bruce a sceptical look.

“Right, so what finally yanked your head out of your ass about it?” He asked sharply. Bruce gave him that same wry smile.

“Diana. And Harley. And Alfred. And Selena. I have been… extensively informed I had my head up my ass. So. I’m sorry for that too. I just wanted to tell you before I left, since I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

And it shouldn’t have been funny that he actually looked more pained talking about this, admitting a mistake, than he had when nursing broken ribs in the infirmary. Than he’d looked during any of their fights, than when Jason had all but grabbed his face and forced him to see that it really was him, that his dear little Robin came back wrong.

But dark humour was a refuge for all the bats, and if Jason didn’t laugh he had a horrible feeling he’d cry. All that tension, all those days he’d worried about what he’d say or do when they came face to face again… he’d never have imagined any of this.

Could imagine another bloody battle before imagining Bruce saying sorry.

All of a sudden he was just tired. Ha. Dead tired.

Nothing drained the life out of him like dealing with Bruce.

“Great. So where are you going?” It was almost a rhetorical question; he didn’t really expect an answer.

Should have, though. Obviously B had to stick his foot in it again.

“Amity Park. As Bruce Wayne, not Batman,” he added quickly when Jason’s head snapped up, glare sharpening, “it seems the logical place to begin work on the acts.”

And alright, Bruce didn’t sound defensive. He never did; just obstinate, which meant so many things that guessing when it meant what was a losing game.

Jason groaned loudly, raising both hands to scrub down across his face. Because of course all that weirdness hadn’t changed a damn thing. B was gonna B, creepy and intrusive and all.

“And look into Danny.” He said flatly, locking eyes with Bruce in time to see his expression twitch. Was he actually gonna lie?

Apparently not. Bruce sighed and nodded.

“My focus will be on establishing a connection between “Brucie” and the Anti-Ecto Acts, and investigating the GIW. Danny has been involved in both, and Zatanna has requested the elder Fentons provide me with protection,” he said like it was anything but a weak excuse.

Jason stared at him for a long moment, and then figured fuck it. Actually telling them before he left was technically still an improvement, and Danny and Jason were both well aware that there was gonna be some nosy bullshit.

He’d warned Danny this was gonna happen, and Danny had said it was fine. That he didn’t care about anything Batman might find… and knowing just how badly the Justice League had fucked up was going to eat the asshole alive. Which he could have avoided just by listening.

About to just walk away, Jason hesitated. There was actually one thing… technically not a necessary for a halfa, but fuck it. Might as well get B used to some ghostly etiquette early.

“Have you asked Danny?”

Bruce stilled, giving Jason a complicated look that mostly felt like judgement. Like Jason should know better than to ask.

“I was under the impression that removing the Anti-Ecto Acts is a priority?” He said stiffly, all awkward tension again.

Jason really did roll his eyes this time.

“Sure, but you’re going to his haunt. You text Superman before investigating in Metropolis.” Which technically hadn’t even been true when Jason was actually Robin, but B did text Clark before getting caught investigating in Metropolis. By anything but Kryptonian hearing.

The protocol basically only applied whenever another hero wanted to operate within Gotham because only Batman cared, but it was on the League’s books.

Bruce had picked up the wording though, because of course he had.

“His haunt?” He asked carefully, that tiny tick between his brows that meant he was processing starting up.

Jason rolled his eyes harder. For emphasis. Had JL Dark actually missed this part of the briefing? He was so not writing up Ghost Etiquette 101 for the league. No way.

But. It. Might be kinda cool. To have for himself. Especially since it was gonna be increasingly relevant.

“He’s a ghost hero, B. He died there, he protects the city. He’s like, the only one who’ll actually get your territorial crap, because in his case it’s part of his makeup.”

Actually, might be part of B’s too. Danny hadn’t said how liminal Bruce in particular was, but it really wouldn’t surprise Jason if claiming a haunt was part of it. Or if Lady Gotham had already picked out a spot for him.

That thought stung, so he dismissed it immediately and turned towards the kitchen. Hell with the brownies he’d been planning, he was gonna need something much more complicated to keep his mind off the latest wave of bullshit.

Alfred liked soufflés. Jason could activate the house defences to keep the little gremlins out until they were done.

“Just fucking text him, B. Entering a ghost’s haunt without permission is declaring intent to throw down, and that’s a fight none of us need.” No matter how much he might like to watch B go up against the ridiculous power-set Danny was packing.

Sure, the Bat went toe to toe with the gods, but that was with plans, tech, and often, backup. Apparently he still didn’t know shit about ghosts, so it’d be fun to watch him try and adapt on the fly… especially when even Danny wasn’t sure how many actual powers were on the table.

**

Bruce hesitated for a long moment, looking at Jason’s retreating back.

That had gone… frankly he did not trust his own read on Jason enough to tell. Neither of them had yelled. He’d said what he was prepared to; he was still working on the appropriate format for the rest.

Jason… hadn’t reacted. Not with anger, which was a blessed relief, but not with anything else either. Except disbelief. Exasperation. Shock.

Not really any aggression, though. That had to be a decided improvement. And while part of Bruce suspected he’d been told to inform Danny so the boy could hide anything unsavoury….

He’d known that was likely to happen when he told Jason his plans. Jason would tell Danny; his allegiances there were firmly (and worryingly quickly) established.

Telling Danny himself… there was a chance that Jason had been serious about it being a matter of protocol. A formal request, for contact with an inter-dimensional entity.

Despite that entity being present and active in Bruce’s own city without so much as a nod to the Bat. But then, Batman was not a ghost, despite what the goons liked to suppose.

Firmly marshalling his own suspicions, Bruce pulled out his phone to message the youngest Fenton.

Stopped.

Bruce Wayne didn’t have the boy’s number. But Danny knew at least Nightwing’s identity; it was possible he knew them all.

He was going to Amity Park as Brucie Wayne, not Batman. But Brucie Wayne had no way to get the correct phone number. Unexpected contact from Batman was… well, expected, to an extent.

And his investigations would be handled and presented as Batman. Surely no one would challenge Brucie Wayne to a fight?

Mind made up, Bruce took his vigilante phone out and did a quick scan through his childrens’ updated contact lists. Most of them seemed to have been enjoying the company of the Amity Parkers; it wouldn’t be hard to get Danny’s contact information.

**

So. New year, new problems. Danny used to say it as a joke, but this year it was looking pretty darn literal.

Last year, for example, he hadn’t had to worry about his parents finding out about his supposed “love life” from a magazine (that Jazz must have sent them after they’d gone back to Amity Park, the traitor), and calling to hound him for details.

He’d managed to talk them out of driving the GAV straight to Gotham to threaten Jason into “treating him right”… which Jason thought was funny solely because he still didn’t actually know how large Jack Fenton was, nor how intense Maddie could be.

He still thought of them as civilians, and maybe a little less than competent, thanks to the database and their zero capture record.

Maybe Danny was cultivating that ignorance specifically so he could watch the moment of truth in person. Sue him, it was funny.

Unfortunately, since the magazine had also included that the gala they’d been “hooking up” at had been to celebrate Jason’s return from the dead, his mom had reached the halfa conclusion on her own. Danny had wanted to let Jason decide when to tell her, but that very first phone call the first words out of her mouth had been “Daniel James Fenton, have you met another halfa without telling us?”

And Danny had been so taken aback by them actually noticing anything (it was to do with ghosts, of course they’d noticed, he’d kicked himself for days after) that she’d taken his speechlessness as confirmation.

So.

They had that out of the way before they even said hi.

Despite Danny’s firm assurances that he and Jason weren’t actually dating, the papers were making the whole thing up (the photos hadn’t helped, but his dad seemed to buy that he’d been. Trying to help Jason fix his shirt. After the rogue attack, y’know), his parents had insisted on another call with Jason.

And Jazz. Because he had to introduce his sister to his new boyfriend too.

Jason had… taken it well? Hadn’t gotten much of a word in edgewise, around Jack Fenton’s boisterous laughter and insistence that he come around some time soon. He’d agreed with Danny that they definitely were not dating, which.

They weren’t.

They just weren’t.

They were just. Friends. Who hung out after classes in the evening. And texted all day. And told each other their deepest darkest soul secrets in like, a week after they’d met.

Danny’s mom had seemed a little more convinced by the end of the call, but still insisted Jason should come down to Amity Park anyway, to get to know the family.

Danny was still in denial about it being even a little bit helpful, but Jason had decided to drop the Fright Knight bomb right away. It was the actual real reason they were so close now, so it made sense as an explanation that wasn’t them being partners or whatever.

(Danny still hated it. Resented he couldn’t be trusted to just… have a friend. It always had to be something stupid and dramatic.

And he was totally offended by how immediately relieved his mom had been that he’d have someone “looking after him”. Like he wasn’t a whole ass adult for years already, and the king of a realm for longer than that.)

And now he was gonna have to call them back, and probably get a message to Fright Knight, because Danny’s newest problem was that Batman now had his phone number.

And was asking his permission to go to Amity Park to deal with the Anti-Ecto Acts.

(“Brucie Wayne” was officially the one going for the Acts, the message only said that Batman would be escorting the billionaire and gathering evidence separately, but Danny wasn’t fucking buying it.

And since Batman had his phone number and had used it, Tucker could technically get into Batman’s phone and prove it. Like Constantine showing up at Wayne Manor left a shadow of a doubt.

But noooo, Danny knew all about dramatics and billionaires and their sketchy underground labs. He could play along.)

Which, technically, might wind up solving one of his biggest problems.

It was also gonna completely ruin all the work he and Jason had done persuading the Fentons they weren’t dating; he could already hear his dad booming delightedly about meeting future in-laws. Because why else would Jason’s dad go to visit?

Not like there were actual laws on the books declaring Danny as a mandatory extermination target. Or like the Justice League might finally have gotten their thumbs out of their asses and want to check in.

Clearly Danny’s love life was the only thing that mattered.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about that crap from Frighty; all the ghosts were gonna know all about Danny and Jason’s soul resonance (be still his beating fucking heart that was still ridiculous). He would have to let him know a superhero was gonna be in town though.

Actual ghosts weren’t likely to mistake Batman for one of their own and these days most of Danny’s rogue gallery was cool about not picking fights with humans without Fenton tech, but Danny figured better safe than sorry.

And.

Maybe.

Really wanted to see Batman and Fright Knight hang out. They were gonna totally love or totally hate each other, and either way he was a little sorry he was gonna miss it.

Unless he gave in and took time off class, kidnapped Jason from whatever work he did, and made the trip home… because he’d been direly warned that if he did show up without Jason, Jack Fenton would drive him back to Gotham personally. So, no. Nope. Not happening.

The long and the short of it was that instead of being blissfully free of his parents nagging him to visit until the summer, he was now fielding calls and texts demanding he come back home for March Break, at the latest. And bring Jason.

Mom wanted to “assess him”, which was fucking terrifying and the more Jason didn’t take it seriously the more Danny was tempted to actually make the trip. It would at least come with a defined end date. And force Jazz to take a break if she wanted to come too.

She at least had been less insistent on calling him every single day to bug him about it; probably because she was busy frying herself to death at university. She’d apologized for missing the group chat too, and the first family phone call, but it wasn’t a huge surprise.

Jazz had had the helicopter parent firmly knocked out of her by double majors, which Danny used to think was a good thing. Now he considered it might actually be a sign she was… not cracking under the pressure? But not taking care of herself.

Hopefully it wouldn’t return full force once she got some actual sleep and decent food in her.

Honestly, Danny wasn’t unaware that this was the most normal his problems had ever been. Just a few years ago he’d have done anything but wish to Desiree that his biggest problem would be “my parents think I’m dating one of my friends”.

Right now it was looking pretty good too, actually. Because at this precise second, Danny’s biggest problem was that he was running out of excuses not to talk to Nocturn.

***

Tim was beginning to think he had a bit of a crush on Tucker Foley. It was a surprise to him as much as anyone else; normally the kind of fawning adoration that tech geeks usually followed him with was an instant turn off. There was just… no point getting close to people who saw him as an idea, not a person.

And, frankly? The mere existence of Timblr probably would have been a red flag for anyone else. Sure, Tucker had closed it down, but it still existed - and Tucker Foley could have taken care of that easily.

The thing was… even under the hero worship he’d caught in Tucker’s eyes when they were first introduced… well, Tucker wasn’t exactly respectful to his heroes. That did tend to follow along with a friend in a teen hero career; everyone else was instantly less cool by association.

Tucker just plain wasn’t a good fanboy. He hung on Tim’s every word, right up until they started talking tech - the subject he most admired Tim for. Didn’t admire him enough not to cut him off half way through an explanation, call an idea “archaic”, or ask if Tim was serious.

(And okay, once or twice he hadn’t been; just testing his technical chops.)

The thing was, Tucker wasn’t only a genius with regular technology, he was a prodigy in an entirely new field of software and occult collusion, and he knew it. He was delighted to upgrade Tim’s systems (although Danny would still need to do the full ecto-infusions; Tucker could interface, but didn’t produce his own ectoplasm), and more than happy to point out everywhere they needed improving.

Tim genuinely respected his opinion, which wasn’t a distinction he gave to many people who’d never worn a cape; he’d already cc’d the other, Lucius Fox, into his and Tucker’s email chains. (Lucius was very enthusiastic about the oncoming apprenticeship - for him.)

And Tucker was funny, allergic to personal privacy, and… well, Tim was pretty sure he’d felt those first twinges when, as promised, he tagged Tucker in to help interrogate the Riddler.

Digitally, obviously. With Tucker’s classes starting back up and the New Years hangovers finally clearing the board, the next time they saw each other in person might be upsettingly far out. But Tucker had cheerfully hacked his way into Gotham PD’s systems and made himself comfortable while Red Robin and Batwoman waited for Riddler to be brought in.

Tim had so few pure pleasures in his life, but watching Kate try to keep a straight face when the interrogation room’s speakers began blasting what was essentially a stripper theme perfect for Eddie Nygma the second the door closed?

Riddler had been utterly baffled as well, talking over the beginning until they reached the chorus, where the singer practically spelled out his name. His stunned silence had given way to a burst of offended protest that was entirely undercut by the way his fingers kept time.

As the teen hero in the room, Red Robin was allowed to snicker at him, but Batwoman had to pretend to be an adult about it.

And when the first song ended, silence had fallen for what must have been a perfectly calculated fifteen seconds, and then the Jeopardy theme began playing.

Of course, soundtracking hadn’t been Tucker’s only contribution to the interrogation, just Tim’s favourite. Red Robin had the tablet from the gala back from evidence, from which Tucker had cheerfully admitted in Matrix style scrolling green text that he’d been the one back-hacking Nygma’s files… and locking him out of them.

And replacing every single link Nygma had clicked from the night of the gala to the day Batwoman hauled him in to a random page from Riddles.com, which Riddler had declared a new vendetta against every time anyone would listen. It was beautiful.

Robins were professionally annoying, it was part natural talent on all of their parts (except Damian) and part intensive training on how to disrupt thought patterns and push people into mistakes. Tucker could have led the class, and Tim had been overtaken by a powerful urge to kiss the smug grin he could feel through Tucker’s text straight off his face.

Of course, Tim had a boyfriend. And had been overtaken more than once by similar urges for almost every one of his friends, when they did something brilliant.

Steph called it oral fixation, Tim preferred positive reinforcement. Conner found the whole thing extremely funny, especially since Tucker still stumbled over his words if Conner was so much as looking at him.

Which made all of his siblings trying to tease him about Tucker’s “crush” on Tim look ridiculous, by the way. Tucker Foley was not a subtle man; he couldn’t even string a sentence together around someone he actually liked.

He could string plenty of sentences together around Tim, the two of them could finish each others’ half the time.

(He wasn’t upset about Tucker’s obvious interest in Conner either; Tim knew damn well his boyfriend was an incredible catch and he was lucky to have him. Tucker’s crush was just… peer review.)

Already he was counting down the days until March Break, when Tucker was going to visit in person again. Honestly, he might push to get a zeta put in nearer to MIT in the meantime.

It wasn’t like the institute was never targeted by supervillains, it would just be practical.

But Tim himself couldn’t suggest that now, because then all of his siblings would jump on the Tucker thing and he’d never hear the end of it. It was a dilemma… because even if Conner or Danny could just go and pick him up again, zeta was just faster.

It had nothing to do with missing time that Conner and Tucker were bonding, or being a puppy waiting for his master to come home, whatever Steph said.

(And honestly, Tucker Foley? Not exactly commanding “master” material. Until he was talking about his area of expertise. Then he was certain and confident and got this really attractive gleam in his eye…)

The quickest solution would be getting all of Team Phantom officially involved in the Justice League, of course. Then he wouldn’t even need to suggest it; close zeta access was vital for all of the heroes.

But Team Phantom couldn’t join the League until Phantom’s existence was no longer illegal. So they had to dismantle the Anti Ecto Acts. Bruce was investigating the GIW, and planning what he probably thought was a secret trip to Amity Park, but none of it was happening fast enough for Tim… because it probably wouldn’t be done by March Break. In two months.

He’d broken more than just the American government in two months; all it took was the right leverage. And a complete lack of self restraint.

So, y’know, Tim had a new side project in and around his other Gotham cases. All he needed was a house and then senate majority, and they could get those laws repealed the second the government came back from break.

Lois Lane was already working on the story, Clark would probably join Bruce in Amity Park (whether he knew Bruce was there or not) for interviews. There was only so much public pressure could do though, and that never worked fast enough either.

Not compared to Tim’s preferred methods. He liked the personal touch.

****

Fun fact, slower core formation? Had not meant slower ghost powers. Not in Jason’s case, anyway; not even a week after his core came in, a coffee cup had slipped straight through his hand and shattered on the floor.

He’d stopped handling Alfred’s good china that day, mindful of Danny’s many horror stories about the school lab’s glassware. Alfred hadn’t actually questioned it, although he’d gotten a couple of raised eyebrows when he slid a junk mug toward the kettle.

It was just a good thing he’d already cut down patrolling; he’d been planning to take a step back anyway for a while. Just until he got the balance right between being Red Hood and the newly resurrected Jason Todd.

He’d had to stop entirely, at least until he got the intangibility under control. Sure, becoming temporarily impervious to weapons would be convenient when he got to choose when it switched off or on. Phasing various limbs half way through solid surfaces and getting stuck though?

No.

Not a chance in Hell. That was not an acceptable risk.

Invisibility had started not long after, which had definitely complicated his trips to the manor; all the bats were good, but vanishing completely out of the blue? That would raise comment.

The good news was that the glacierfrost seemed to be helping there too; either because of the ecto in the ice, or just keeping his emotions regulated, which kept the powers from acting up. Jason wasn’t taking unnecessary risks, but he’d noticed that for at least a couple hours after a hit, he was in more control.

Intentionally turning the powers on was still a struggle, but apparently that’d just get better with time. And probably fighting - that was the common denominator under all his ghost problems.

Ghost Fight Club was officially starting the second he’d got the transformation down, but how exactly they were going to try and trigger that in a controlled environment was still… less clear than Jason would like.

They’d have to work it out soon though; the only other ability that was likely to kick in before he could transform was flight, according to Danny. Time was a-tickin’.

And… alright. It wasn’t like Jason was sat at home every night; that was what he and Danny were doing after school now that they’d cut back to at least a couple days a week. A little practice on budding ghost powers, with backup.

“Surveying his haunt” was what Danny called it, but it basically meant Danny going ghost and Jason putting on a domino he claimed he borrowed from Dick, and the two of them bouncing around the Alley. And occasionally Danny pushing him off roofs to see if flight had kicked in yet.

(It hadn’t, but he still had his grapples, and refused to let Danny rescue him from his own bullshit.)

Sensing the city’s natural ecto had gotten much easier with his core fully developed, and Danny was teaching him how to mark it with his own. Pitty’s ongoing corruption was fucking it up though; it was still producing corrupted ectoplasm, and actually more of it now that they were both whole.

(Jason had started sleeping with Frostbite’s ghost succulent next to his pillow. That was how he’d noticed the new blue glow, which he still meant to ask about. It was still firm and strong, and it… didn’t feel sick?)

Corrupted ecto reeked so strongly of that corruption that it was completely useless for anything else, apparently. So until they finally finished purging Pitty, what all their little adventures actually amounted to was tagging.

Danny made them special ecto-spray-paint, and they spent the nights finding weirder and weirder corners to spray a little mark onto. Jason would have liked to use something to do with Red Hood, for the symmetry, but. Well. He hadn’t worked out how to have that conversation yet.

He’d been making do with little ghost doodles. It had been years since he’d done any real graffiti art, but it was like riding a bike, and the ecto sprayed really well. A cartoon ghost wasn’t all that hard anyway; an elongated little blob, occasionally with little fangs or unattached clawed hands.

He’d been going for something like an Among Us bean, but Danny had declared that he was drawing Pitty, and well… it stuck. Doodling little Pit ghosts was the order of the day, ranging from cute little Pittys (modelling good behaviour, Danny called it) or vicious little bastards, depending on how both Jason and Pitty had been that day.

Because that was definitely one piece of good news, in with all the bullshit new ghost powers was causing. Before he’d felt surges of rage, the moments where the Pit was reaching out and trying to affect him. Universally bad, aggressive, and violent, pre-Danny.

He could kinda feel it all the time now, like a heated scarf draped over his body, or the constant breathing of a dog just behind his ear. It was quiet mostly, and he was beginning to suspect it had cost more energy than he’d ever expected for it to reach out to him at all.

For all that he’d worried about it being too much like raising a kid, it… well, the nice way to say it was probably that it wasn’t that bright. It could talk to him in ghostspeak, kind of; most of what he actually heard felt like emotional reactions, closer to speaking through auras than words despite how much it’d felt like it was crawling up his throat.

The Pit could handle basic concepts, recognised Danny’s name, but other than that? It mostly seemed to follow Jason’s emotional lead… and then dial it up to eleven. Which, yeah, was exactly what he’d been scared of when he thought it might be like, a whole ass person. Toddlers were terrifying little sponges.

Jason’s experience of kids wasn’t exactly what he’d call normal, sure, but Pitty was reminding him less of a kid and more and more of some kind of small and bitey animal.

Which, y’know, was a relief. Sort of. It wasn’t like he could fuck up an animal in the same way as he could a kid. Nowhere near the same level of responsibility.

Just. When he thought about the pit rage, the idea of it being attached to something which literally had fangs and claws was not exactly reassuring. Even at the size of a chihuahua.

A little impromptu art therapy while they marked his haunt wasn’t exactly helping with that part, but it wasn’t hurting. And he was trying to explain that feeling bad was not actually dangerous or harmful… via spray paint.

He was only about 70% sure that Pitty could see.

But it got him out and about, kept him in shape at least for swinging from roof tops, and gave him an excuse to hang out with Danny. It did involve actively avoiding anything he’d normally investigate (at least until he had a reasonable explanation… or brought up the Red Hood thing)… but it felt good. It was soothing.

Even knowing full well he’d made plans, prepared extensively, still had his guys making sure the Alley was safe and all was well, he still found himself itching to patrol on the nights he stayed in.

He could only assume that was part of the whole Haunt thing; he had good people working under him, and a couple of bright lieutenants that while he’d never let them wear the hood, he was comfortable giving them some solo enforcement missions to keep the fear of Red Hood in everyone’s hearts. All relevant parties, anyway.

Luckily he still had the library project as a convenient excuse for the bats. It kept them off his ass, and Jason could admit that it probably wouldn’t have taken much to persuade him to take a night run.

And get his ass stuck half way through some fucking wall somewhere, or lose a foot to a rooftop, and need to break himself free or call Danny in the fucking suit. Nope.

(He’d been tempted to let his family think he was saving his nights for Danny, which wasn’t even completely untrue; Danny wasn’t over every night anymore, not with his school schedule, but if he wasn’t over they texted.

Jason had begun saving a meme folder just for things to show Danny, which had quickly absorbed his full folder for death jokes and just kept going. Danny was going to be a very supportive “father” for their fake pit-kid, and had clearly been stockpiling dad jokes to send back.)

Honestly though, Jason was just relieved he’d already planned to slow the vigilante side for a while in the wake of his official revival; there was a lot that had to be done to come back from the dead, and a lot more he could do with official Wayne backing for areas of Crime Alley that Hood couldn’t touch.

He’d even let some of the bats in on those plans before Danny showed up; it wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t patrolling. They were mostly leaving him alone about it, although Dick had offered to pop his Red Hood gear on and run a couple of patrols if things got too rowdy.

Jason had told him to fuck off, then got his street kids spreading the rumour that Hood was gearing up for something big. Let people think that the momentary quiet was just the first rumbles for an oncoming storm.

Hell, let them think Hood was in cahoots with Jason Todd-Wayne; that or preparing to run him out of the Alley. Let both of his lives work together for a while. The rumours shut half the fucking low-level dealers up; no one was pushing anything within three blocks of his territory, in case Hood was planning an expansion.

That’d boil over after a while and bite him in the ass if he didn’t go and kick something down, but for now it worked. He had so much to do for the library, for the new shelters from the Wayne foundation, for the soup kitchens. He actually was pretty busy, even on his nights in.

Fuck, he’d even taken time to hang out with the actual Alley kids, as Jason and Hood. The mouthy little shits kept him grounded, and maybe he’d tried it as a trial run for Pitty, but since that wasn’t gonna be the same problem he’d kept it up as a test of his own patience.

Which had. Very abruptly. Become the cause of one of his biggest concerns. Because the biggest change since his core came in had actually taken him a couple more days to notice.

Because now, Jason could see the fingerprints of the new entity.

That hadn’t been fun to work out; he’d been intentionally taking it slow until his core formed. Part of him had been sorta hoping to be able to just avoid anything that might set them both off until the Pit was ready to pop out on its own. Nothing related to the new case he couldn’t start, nothing related to the Joker or pits or any of that shit.

So when some of the kids had been showing up with some weird shadowy smudge on their clothes, he’d assumed it was the usual Gotham grime. They claimed not to see it, he threw them at the laundry room and cussed them out, it always came off.

Now the Curse, the Curse was staying out of Crime Alley entirely. He’d seen it during the day once or twice, a shadow attached where it shouldn’t be, a flicker over Damian or Tim’s shoulder. He always knew when the Curse was around now, a frosty fog filled his lungs whenever it was close.

(Danny had called it his “ghost sense”, which was lame but Jason didn’t have a better idea.)

And those smudges didn’t have the same kind of ozone-aftertaste that the Curse left in his mouth.

And then one of his girls, maybe seven years old, had come in with that same kind of smeared shadow sticking through soft black hair. He’d had some sharp fucking words with the older kids about that, he didn’t expect them to stay pristine at all times, but for fucks sake it was clumping.

Basic hygiene fucking mattered on the street, none of them could afford a proper de-matting or even a decent razor to shave their heads, so Jason had instilled the importance of bare-minimum finger combing in every one of them years ago. You could live with a fucking rug dragging at your skull, but it made absolutely everything harder.

He’d sat the girl on a stool and washed her hair in a bucket himself, while repeating the same fucking lecture to the other girls. Noticed half way through that while the sticky shit was indeed washing out of her hair, it wasn’t being broken down by the soap.

It was clinging to him instead, seeping into the creases of his fingers and under his nails. He’d tried not to visibly react, giving her a last rinse and wrapping her hair in a towel-hat that she didn’t stop touching for the next forty minutes, fucking it up a dozen times.

The smudgy crap had washed off his hands eventually, but when he saw Danny the next day he’d visibly backed up a few steps, then given Jason about six shots of ecto because his was apparently rancid again. No prizes for spotting the connection, and from there it was obvious.

And then he’d seen Harley the next day, that same smudgy crap a handprint around her fucking throat, and he’d seen red. Hot, angry, blood red, and it not being green had startled the life out of him.

(Harley noticed. Duh. It was her thing. And while Jason couldn’t just tell her some malevolent fucking entity made from her shitty ex was crawling through the city, he’d been as honest as he could be.

Harley definitely couldn’t see the smudges. Danny hadn’t had any answers or way to make it stop fucking touching people.)

Hypothetically, this was all gonna be good in the end. It’d make things easier, being able to see and track this shitstain’s work.

It did not feature in his “don’t get pissed off or think about work” plan.

It was just faintly possible that obsession, self flagellation, and a desire to be personally responsible for fucking everything might be more than just Bruce’s problem. Could maybe be a family affair.

Jason made more pies. Occasionally narrating what he was doing aloud, half for Pitty’s benefit and half for Danny’s when the little shit was crashing on his couch.

It was fine. He was coping. Another couple weeks, Danny reckoned, and Pitty would be out of his body and he could get back to his fucking life.

With a pet Pit ghost in tow, apparently, but if the worst came to the worst he could fucking soup the thing once it was outside him.

(He was also going to teach Danny to make soup. Proper soup. On principle.)

**

Preparing for his trip to Amity Park had taken longer than Bruce had expected. Not least because Alfred had finally run out of patience, and sentenced him to bedrest for the next 12 hours after he returned from the Justice League meeting lest he unlock the tranquilizer guns and give his children free reign.

In the old days, when he’d just become Batman, Bruce had assumed Alfred would never be able to catch him anyway. He’d been cocky and confident in his skills, and often ignored Alfred’s demands.

And yet the man always seemed to know, raising a disapproving eyebrow at Bruce every time he’d slipped back into the room just before Alfred made his rounds.

And then Steph came into his life, and Bruce learned all too fast that Alfred had merely been waiting for appropriate safeguards. That was three kids along of course, but by now Bruce knew exactly why it had been Steph Alfred had waited for.

His relationship with Dick was too tumultuous. While Dick never feared Bruce and was perfectly happy to join Alfred in nagging and bossing him around, by the time Dick moved out Bruce had half expected to only see his son at Justice League meetings, if at all.

They were different men, and Dick had always had an anger in him that Bruce couldn’t fathom. He’d mastered it, his control very rarely slipping, but… Bruce had trained Dick himself, and he was one of a very short list of people that Bruce had no concrete backup plan for.

Nothing but hope to make him cocky with the first attack, and pray the second caught him off guard.

His relationship with Dick hadn’t improved until Tim came into his life… and helped him get his head out of his ass.

Jason? Jason had been an angel. A scruffy, beaten down angel with badly bruised wings when Bruce first picked him up, but he’d flourished in Wayne Manor. He’d taken to Robin with joy and enthusiasm, but had more devotion to his studies than any of Bruce’s kids before or since.

He’d even stay in to study for tests, and if things had been different… perhaps he’d have been the one to break Bruce’s obsession with his night life.

But Bruce had begun taking that good heart for granted, pushed when he should have listened, and sent Jason to his death.

Tim had a hard enough time keeping Bruce from killing himself, along with anyone who stood in the way of his mission. He was a solemn, serious little boy from the start, and though Dick took a more active role this time around and declared himself a big brother (possibly to spite Bruce)… well.

It had to be Steph.

Steph, who would vehemently deny being one of his from whoa to go, was just like all of his children; a feral little gremlin. But Steph had that one more element too, the one which young Dick had had in spades but pulled back from with Bruce years before.

Steph liked to have fun.

Tim treated Bruce as a mission just as much as Gotham was Bruce’s, and Dick had never forgiven him for Jason. Or the fights that went before. Neither could pick up a Nerf gun and hunt him through the city in pure play in those days.

Until Steph gave them the guns, of course. Now any and every one of his children would happily take a tranq gun from Alfred and merrily stalk him through the manor and city at large, and even to the Watchtower if he tempted fate (and Tim).

Bruce was powerless against them, although pride warred with frustration every single time one of them managed to drug him to sleep. He’d trained them well. Well enough that they’d put what was right over what he wanted, that none of them were even a little afraid of him.

He’d planted the seeds of his own destruction.

So when he’d seen Duke and Dick hanging “casually” around the halls while Alfred escorted him to bed, he’d resigned himself to twelve hours of rest.

He’d slept for sixteen. And woke feeling much better, to his own chagrin. His head felt clearer, the migraine almost gone, and the sudden swoops of nausea had finally begun to pass.

He still had odd moments, especially when he’d been on the computer planning the trip to Amity Park for too long, but he’d reluctantly agreed with Alfred. He needed to fully recover from his concussion; that meant rest. And taking days and weeks instead of hours.

Amity Park would still be there, after all. He couldn’t get back the years they’d been late. He’d had to concede another two weeks.

Zatanna had also demanded an explanation for why he was suddenly interested in the town - luckily the Anti-Ecto Acts provided a sufficient cover. They were even most of the reason he was going.

She could also see the gravity of the situation, and offered to put him in touch with some local specialists who claimed to have tech that would keep him from being possessed. Specialists named “Fenton”. Because of course they were.

She’d offered him a ward as well, but mostly in jest. She knew how Bruce felt about magic, and had told him science was on the table almost immediately.

Bruce knew full well it wasn’t a coincidence. Formerly regarded as quacks, the Fentons had been featured prominently in all of their Amity Park news sources. Usually as menaces and a hazard to society, which aligned with what the Mansons had told him.

Still, their actions had nothing to do with the character of their son. Danny Phantom had been Amity Park’s protector for six years, although he’d not had many serious ghosts to fight for the last three.

As Foley had claimed, the ghosts seemed to have settled into a status of local nuisance that was oddly aligned with the Fentons senior; loud, intrusive, and often an inconvenience to your day, but not the threats to life, limb, or infrastructure that had characterised the first years after the portal opened.

Amity Park’s general consensus seemed to be that Danny Phantom had tamed the ghosts, won over the Fentons, and quite efficiently saved the day. He hadn’t been sighted there much in the past year, but that was because he’d been in Gotham.

In school. Finally being able to study and look towards his future.

His main heroic endeavours in the last three years of his career had involved the same GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward that Foley had told Tim about. They unfortunately had not followed the general trend of de-escalation… although they had been rather subdued in the last year.

It felt different to Bruce, though. Incidents were less frequent, but those occurrences where they did find a ghost had become markedly more violent. The decreased frequency seemed to have lulled the townsfolk into believing they were also less of a threat, but the problem with pushing your enemies into a corner was how much more dangerous a cornered animal became.

There was something worrying happening with the GIW, that would have borne looking into even if he wasn’t also looking to understand Danny better. Preparing everything he’d need for the official investigation was most of what had slowed him down.

Of course, he was going to Amity Park as Brucie Wayne, not as Batman. Vlad Masters’ friendship was going to help him there; the man had been delighted to invite him down for the weekend when Bruce had reached out.

A little faked enthusiasm for football and interest in Vlad’s favourite team and he was a seemingly completely open book. He was more than happy to give Brucie the grand tour of his little town, and even promised a personal escort from the airport.

Bruce was beginning to suspect that getting away from the man might be more of a challenge, although he was another potentially useful source of information on the Amity Park situation.

Not that Masters was a particularly high priority source. But Bruce could admit he may have been hasty to dismiss his views on Danny as being biased, and as mayor he should know something about the GIW operations in his city… and given how many contracts with the agency could be traced back to his companies in the early days of the agency’s formations, he would be a much more serious subject for investigation than a source.

The good news was, everything was now in place. He had Danny’s permission and would be flying down to Amity Park in a matter of hours, and had already bought out the entire top floor of a local hotel, so he should have plenty of privacy to operate from.

With any luck, being able to set things in motion to repeal the Anti-Ecto Acts could also be a first step towards patching things up with Jason… and with Danny. No matter what conclusions Bruce came to in Amity Park, the Justice League owed Danny Phantom a serious apology, and the Infinite Realms some swift action.

Their negligence could have sparked an inter-dimensional war, and nearly had cost a young man his future. Bruce was self aware enough to admit that the guilt of that knowledge was a major factor in why he hadn’t spoken to Danny face to face again.

Yet.

At least Danny had given him permission to visit and explore his haunt. That had to count for something.

He was going to apologize. Probably after giving Jason the proper apology his son so richly deserved. Perhaps Jason would even be willing to help him work out how to properly apologize to Danny too; Bruce wasn’t good at apologies at the very best of times, but Harley had made it explicitly clear that he was going to be getting in a lot of practice.

**

Now, ya can call Harley Quinn a lot of things (and people definitely have), but one thing she ain’t despite the goofball act? Stupid.

Somethin’ was up in Gotham, somethin’ one heck of a lot weirder than all the weird shit that had marked her time in the city.

Oh, she’d gone an’ had another word with Brucie after Waylon told her how Jason’d had to leave through the roof after his talk with Constantine.

(She’d hunt Johnny-boy down later too, probably just after he decided she wasn’t gonna come for ‘im and stopped hiding, but odds on? Brucie’s fault, and Connie was just his unfortunate messenger.)

The thing was, he’d decided to sicc Johnny on poor Jason before they’d had their little talk, so by the time she caught him again he was already all downcast and shamefaced. Already admitting he done fucked up.

And it just wasn’t satisfyin’ to kick him while he was down, an’ while he was already tryin’. He’d even decided on his own to leave both boys alone for now, to let things cool down before tryin’ again.

Now, Mama Quinzel didn’t raise no dummy, she could see a million ways ol’ Brucie’s plan to go and try an’ fix Amity Park for Danny was gonna go wrong. But she wasn’t an expert at this ghost business, so she didn’t pretend to be.

She did exactly what she’d told Brucie to do; consulted an actual expert.

She asked Sammy and Jazzy, Danny’s big sis who was just a real darlin’, in their group chat (which had been popping off since Sammy was a lil sweetheart and set it up for ‘em; Jazzy-boo was of doin’ all kinds of neurological shit but she’d read some psych textbooks in her day, and Harley loved watching a self taught student grow). An’ then she hunted down Jason and Danny, to ask ‘em directly.

Which had been when she’d got her first clue that somethin’ was up; when Jason looked at her like she was still wearin’ a certain other clown’s paint, all stiff and locked up and full of anger.

See, that’d happened before. When they first met, him fresh outta the grave, her fresh outta Hell. When he’d asked if she and Joker were really through, an’ she’d told him hell yeah.

When he’d asked if she’d get in his way of killing the asshole.

That anger, all tight an’ tense an’ burstin’ had been wrapped around his throat then, chokin’ him on it. It was cooler now, more human, more like somethin’ the sweet lil sunshine child who could melt her heart with his tears could feel.

It still wasn’t, ya’know, in the vague vicinity of healthy, but she’d seen Jason Todd about to lose his shit before. An’ his hands shook when he touched her, when he asked what the hell she’d done to her neck.

Harley’d taken a good long look in several bathroom mirrors since. There was nothin’ she could see there, but Harley Quinn had been a short term guest in more than one Hell. There was plenty of shit she was all too happy not ta see.

Then there was ol’ Harvey. She’d run him down faster’n the bats, because she wasn’t also chasin’ Riddler, Great White Shark, at least three new plots from ol’ Pengy, or a suspiciously quiet and freshly escaped Scarecrow.

Two-Face had been all quiet an’ polite since his heist on the young Mr Todd’s party went tits up, so he’d flown under their radar.

Not hers.

Harley always made time for her old friends.

And Harvey had been weird too. Twitchy, on edge, jumpin’ at shadows. That happened if he thought the ol’ Bat was after ‘im, but he’d had no reason to think that. An’ for all he’d flipped his little coin and played up the bit, Harley knew when her friends were off.

Something had put Harvey on edge. Stuffed a bee up his ass and made him all snappy.

He’d even tried to pull a gun! On her! His sweet, darlin’, perfectly loveable and innocent Harleen!

So, ya’know, when she’d touched ground again an’ he’d run outta bullets, she’d knocked it outta his hands before he could reload and reminded him there were more than just Bats to fear. There was also her bat.

An’ by the time they were both all tired out and slumped against each other to order smoothies, he’d admitted he didn’t know why he’d decided to go fer young Jason. To attack their buddy Brucie’s boy.

Now, Harley wasn’t sure Harvey knew silly ol’ Brucie was the Big Bad Bat. She suspected he did, somewhere, in the part of him he hid from all the unpleasantness.

If he knew, he was repressin’ it real deep.

But he’d seen word of the gala, an’ something inside him went dark, and he’d flipped a coin. Got all sorts of plastic explosive of all things ready to really give Gotham a show they wouldn’t forget.

An’ then when it was time to roll out, nunna his cars’d start. An’ he’d flipped the coin again. And stayed home.

She snagged the detonators on his explosives on the way out, on principle. There were some rules after all, and while the Bats could certainly handle anythin’ ol’ Harvey could build, he shouldn’a shot at her.

Harley Quinn was officially out of the rogue game, but that had nothin’ ta do with shit disturbing. She was beginning to wonder though.

Somethin’ was weird in Gotham, a kinda energy in the streets that wasn’t the same black stubbornness she’d known and loved. Somethin’ that felt a little nastier. A little closer to biting.

Now, Harley Quinn was a lotta things. She also wasn’t a lotta the things everyone else thought she was.

She was no quitter. She was no fool. She was no coward to turn tail from some nasty vibes. She might still be a teensy weensy bit mentally disturbed, as you say, but she had her shit together.

An’ she knew when somethin’ else was tryin’ ta play with her head.

Much as she loved Gotham like a second home, she was beginnin’ ta wonder if she shouldn’t head back to Pammy an’ let their mystery of who was givin’ Coney Island a hard time sit with the Bats.

——————

The song Tucker’s playing for Tim and Nygma is here:

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IMPORTANT NOTE! Since about half the tag list no longer links to a blog, I will probably be retiring it for chapter 20, so either comment and let me know you still wanna be on it, or proceed on over to AO3 for alerts!

Part two:

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 16

Part 15

The next day, Steve was probably the clingiest he'd ever been. He thought his heat had ended but the new pack bonds brought on a new crest of lust. For the first time since he had arrived, he ate breakfast with everyone in the kitchen. After the meal, Steve made himself comfortable in Eddie's lap.

Eddie and Jeff were talking about concepts for the next album. Gareth was nursing his coffee, still waking up. Grant got up to refill his own mug and Steve's eyes followed him like a hawk. Eddie was pretty attuned to Steve's wants and needs. And when he felt Steve's fingers brush against his lips while staring at the unaware beta across the room, he had a pretty good idea of what his baby wanted.

"Remember sweetness, you gotta use your words. The boys don't know all your tells yet."

Steve whimpered and whined at first, but not longer after he was purring as Grant ate him out on the counter.

Soon enough though, it was time for Corroded Coffin to return to the public eye. And almost just as quickly, the fans with a keen eye noticed a certain omega showing up much more. Not just on Eddie's arm but the rest of the band's as well.

The more it was seen, the more permanent Steve's position appeared. It was February when the competing hashtags #ccomega and #notouromega showed up. Of course, the overwhelming majority of the fans were in the camp of 'neither one is gonna fuck you, so stop wasting your time arguing about it'.

Eddie was reading through a couple of argument threads, snickering to himself when Steve stepped out of the dressing room.

"What about this one?"

The outfit consisted of tight leather pants, a blazer, and a mesh shirt under that. Eddie's hands fell to the magnetic force that was Steve's nipples and started playing with them through the shirt. He let that be his answer and the online comment wars were forgotten for a moment. The new outfit was for an award show the band was attending and throughout the whole thing, Steve ignored his own reserved seat and stayed planted in Eddie's lap.

Given that it was an award show, many eyes were on it, even those not typically concerned with celebrity gossip. When it started spreading to such a degree, even THEY couldn't ignore it. Helen Harrington should have known something was up the moment Irene got that nasty look in her eyes, taking a sip of her champagne flute before speaking.

"Of course, we can't all have such famous children. Steve has been in so many magazines these days. I think the last one actually caught him with his pants down", Irene laughed haughtily.

Helen's face was tight with control. "You're such a charmer Irene. Not most people would admit to reading such tabloid trash."

It was reaching their circle of colleagues, which meant something must be done about their son. She and her husband Richard discussed as much. Steve couldn't be allowed to drag their name through the mud like this anymore.

-----------------------

Steve had basically taken up residence in the band's house. He slept in Eddie's room, which was now functionally his as well. Every morning he woke up with their scents mingled and it made his omega purr with satisfaction. He liked whenever the rest of his pack's scents lingered on his body too. Every time he went out, people knew who he belonged to, even without a bite.

But the thought of getting a mating bite did intrigue him.

He wasn't sure how to bring it up though. They'd already taken a major step in their relationship. Asking to be mated forever seemed like asking too much too soon. But relaxing in the living room, warming his alpha's cock with his mouth while daytime television played on sounded perfect.

And everyday with Steve was perfect in Eddie's opinion. Valentine's Day needed to be more perfect. He had a hunch why Steve was spending February 13th with Jeff and Gareth. It didn't make him any less crabby about it though and unfortunately Grant was left to deal with his crabby ass. He was even crabbier when he realized Steve had awakened much earlier the next day and that Eddie wouldn't be seeing him until evening.

CC had a radio interview and Steve was off doing who knew what. Eddie had half a mind to send him relentless thirst texts but instead just made sure he remembered they had reservations at a private restaurant. Eddie sent a car to get Steve and by 8 they had both arrived. Eddie was practically drooling at the silk shirt Steve was wearing.

And the thrill of later events got to him as he put a hand to Steve's back and felt something lacy underneath the shirt.

"You got a surprise for me, baby?"

Steve's smile was coy. "Maybe. Maybe I did a little shopping and I needed a couple of extra eyes to make sure it looked right."

Well that explained why the other two tagged along. And Eddie was only a little jealous that they got to see his present early. Only a little. Steve was pressed to his side for the entire dinner, feeding each other and feeling his surprise just under the silk.

"Baby, I don't think I can wait any longer", Eddie murmured against his ear.

"I can't either", Steve whispered back, legs rubbing together.

There was no way they were making it back home. Steve needed Eddie inside him now and he let him know that by letting out quiet whimpers directly into his ear. Eddie bit his lip, getting a naughty thought in his head.

"I've got an idea...if you're into it."

Steve was definitely into any ideas he had and soon the bill was paid and they were rushing back to the car Eddie had driven here. Eddie started driving with one hand, then other cupped Steve between the legs. It didn't take long for Eddie to find what they needed.

A 24 hour car wash.

They both climbed into the backseat as soon as the car was set on the track. Steve sunk down on Eddie's cock and rode him without an ounce of shame, letting his voice ring out among the noises of the brushes and soap and water. Eddie knew he must have hearts in his eyes, watching this beautiful creature, shirt falling open to reveal the dark green lingerie underneath.

When they came, they only had a few moments to make themselves decent as the car started to exit the wash. Steve didn't even try, just lying in the backseat with his pants off while Eddie scrambled back to the front. With very little regard for much else, Eddie peeled out of the parking area to preserve Steve's modesty.

Meanwhile, Steve had few qualms about having his cunt out in the backseat. This time of night, it was dark besides a few streetlamps. he reached down to feel his own wetness mingling with Eddie's cum. Eddie wasn't playing any music, so the sound of Steve's pussy sounded like it was echoing in the car. This man would be the death of him.

The rest of the night was spent in romantic bliss, just the two of them. But Steve had already given the rest of his pack chocolates.

The next morning, Steve's dream of a domestic life with Eddie was interrupted by his phone ringing. Eddie groaned at the intrusion and Steve reached out to grab it and see who was calling him. The number had no name attached, but he knew it by heart. He'd known the number since he was young but it had been years since he'd called it. Or since it had called him.

He ignored the call to stop the ringing and cuddled back up to his alpha. Eddie was all who mattered right now. Not them. He ignored the call that came a couple of hours later, and the few that came the next day as well. He didn't even listen to the voicemails left for him. Whatever they had to say, couldn't be anything good.

It was two weeks later when he got his first piece of mail since he started living here and who else could it be from but his parents. He leaned against the fridge as he opened it, finally curious enough to find out what they wanted.

"So what'd they send you?", Eddie asked before spooning some cereal into his mouth.

For a moment, Steve simply stood there, mouth agape as he read the envelope's contents.

"Sweetheart?"

"My parents.... sent me a cease and desist letter."

Part 17 (final)

Tag Team CLOSED

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[jjunieworld]

─ 𖥻TXT MASTERLIST! ` ˖

key: fluff (☁️), angst (🌪️), smut (🥛), smau (📲), written series (📖), one shot (📓), drabble (📄), other (💬), ongoing (🎬), completed (📨), hiatus (📪), discontinued (🗑️)

note: for my works, i consider drabbles to be under 2k words.

𓊆ྀི OT5/MULTI 𓊇ྀི

꩜ jjunieworld’s 2024 valentine’s day event

꩜ having another member’s pc in your phone (💬,☁️)

꩜ you called your pet “baby” and not them (💬,☁️)

꩜ txt as mitski lyrics (💬,🌪️,☁️)

𓊆ྀི YEONJUN 𓊇ྀི

꩜ romeo & juliet (📲,☁️,📪)

the hybe theatre club has an unspoken belief, whoever plays romeo and juliet in the annual play each year will end up falling in love with each other. this year, you and the person you hate the most get casted together.

꩜ lip gloss! (📄,🥛,☁️)

while getting ready for your date, yeonjun notices how you kept licking your lips after applying your lip gloss. let’s just say you don’t make it to your date as planned…

𓊆ྀི SOOBIN 𓊇ྀི

꩜ all for a bet (📲,🌪️,📨)

choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. you... not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can't get you to date him in a month. unfortunately for you, you're a hopeless romantic.

꩜ the great bake off! (📓,☁️)

after getting fired from your job as a pizza delivery driver, you’re in desperate need to find a new job before you get kicked out of your apartment. that’s when you hear about the local bakery looking for employees. thinking, “why not? i’ve worked with dough before!”, you apply and actually get the job. that’s when you and the son of the bakery’s owner decide that it would be fun to compete to see who can make the most baked goods for a prize.

↳ ꩜ spilt milk (📓,🥛)

after a particularly messy competition week in the shop, you and soobin are told to stay after hours to clean the bakery up. with soobin winning the title of the best baker who ever lived, you have an idea of what his prize should be.

꩜ from the start (📓,☁️,🌪️)

you never really understood the saying “you’ll always remember your first love,” but that was before you fell in love with your bestfriend soobin. now all of it makes sense. you notice everything about him, from his dimpled smile to the way he could go on and on about the things he loves. and that just makes you fall for him more. cupid has shot an arrow through your heart and you can’t take keeping your feelings for him inside anymore.

𓊆ྀི BEOMGYU 𓊇ྀི

꩜ “i dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room” (📓,☁️)

you and your bestfriend beomgyu decide on going to a new year’s eve party so you’re not bored at the start of the new year. the party goers suggest that you all should play truth or dare. one of beomgyu’s friends decides to dare him to kiss the prettiest girl in the room, knowing you have a crush on him.

꩜ don’t delete the kisses (📓,🌪️,🥛)

two years ago, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with your bestfriend beomgyu. two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends. now he’s an up and coming musician and you see his face and hear his music almost everywhere in your local town; not knowing that the songs he writes are about you.

꩜ more than this? (📓,🥛)

when beomgyu asked you to be fuck buddies, you thought it was risky considering your already growing feelings for him. but, you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be close to him in any way that you could. now you’re wondering if the two of you will ever be anything more than this.

𓊆ྀི TAEHYUN 𓊇ྀི

꩜ february 14th (📓,🌪️,☁️)

this has to be the worst day of your life. and just your luck, the day keeps repeating. over and over again. and you don’t know why. you get to relive the same day where you finally garner the courage to ask your crush, kang taehyun, out and get to relive the part where he rejects you each time.

꩜ 6:41 a.m. (📄,☁️)

you’re awoken early in the morning from taehyun’s alarm to go to the gym and decide to go with him. you end up distracting him from his routine with your staring and decide to encourage him with kisses to help him.

꩜ meet cute (📄,☁️)

you had a thought and a dream, you were going to be a magician. so you did what one who wants to be a magician does next, you went to a magic store. and what did you do? accidentally knock over a shelf of bang snaps and came face to face with an actual magician.

𓊆ྀི HUENINGKAI 𓊇ྀི

꩜ stupid cupid! (📓,☁️)

hueningkai, better known as cupid, is known for his art in helping people fall in love. shooting his arrows here and there, getting those who are meant to be together. what happens when after he shoots one of his love arrows at you, the other one somehow ends up hitting him?

꩜ spin the bottle (📄,☁️)

you’re what people like to call a “wallflower.” your more extroverted friends have been doing everything in their power to try and break you out of that. so they dragged you along to a party and somehow you’re stuck playing spin the bottle with people you barely know.

꩜ a bed in your shape (📄,🌪️)

for as long as you could remember, you’ve been in love with your bestfriend kai. the only problem is, he never loved you back. yet, you can’t stop imagining your life with him.

↳ ꩜ a life in your eyes (📓,🌪️,🥛)

it’s been almost two years since your childhood bestfriend kai left you in your sacred shared field alone and your friendship ended. now the girl your friendship ended over is out of the picture and you saw him again for the first time since that field. try as you must, you just can’t stop the undeniable pull you’ve always felt towards each other.

𓊆ྀི THOUGHTS 𓊇ྀི

꩜ academic rival!taehyun (💬,📄,🥛)

꩜ your cat vs. beomgyu (💬,☁️)

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Tippington Affair

Summary: Y/N and Dean are unaware of just how similar they are.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None really. Angst. Pining. Some making out. Kissing. Fluff.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 5,314

A/N: In February I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:

hiii :)) idk of you're taking requests rn, but i was wondering if you could write something with dean x fem!reader where dean really loves her for a while but hasn't told her and plan on never telling cause he just thinks he's bad for her or that he's "poison", but he sees her getting close to some guy they're working with and starts to get like suuuper jealous, enough to make him forget he's not supposed to be with her. I absolutely love your writing and your stories, I'm pretty sure I've read them all haha :)) thanks!

It took me a while to get to this, but I hope you think it was worth it! Thank you so much for this request, Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️

Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists

Dean shouldered his big green duffle bag, slamming Baby’s trunk and frowning at his phone.

-

-

Dean scowled at the name “Tippington”. Scott Tippington.

What the fuck kinda name is Tippington? Dean thought angrily. Sounds like he should be taking cigars and brandy in the library instead of out hunting with a flannel and a shotgun. 

Sam joined him back at the car, having just checked them in and got their room key from the front desk. He tossed it to Dean. 

“203.” He told him and they bounded up the stairs two at a time to the second floor of the Sleep Eazzz Motel. 

When they’d spotted the motel on the side of the highway and Dean mentioned stopping, Sam told him the name of the motel was too close to “Sleazzz Motel” and they should keep driving. But Dean had already been driving for almost twenty-four hours straight. Sam offered to take over but Dean said he needed to stretch out on a real bed. 

“Plus,” he’d pointed out, “you have a habit of really riding the brakes.”

So, they’d stopped for the night.

As they walked through the orange motel room door, they both gave a relieved sigh. The outside of the motel was hideous, but the room seemed decent. It actually smelled and looked clean, there was a decently modern TV, one from the 21st century anyway, and to Dean’s delight, both beds had magic fingers.

They each picked a bed and dropped their bags. Sam sat on the end of his bed and ran a hand down his face before turning to his brother.

“Hey, did you manage to get a hold of Y/N? Is she coming?”

Dean dug into his bag and started taking weapons out to clean them, doing his best to seem nonchalant. “N’ah, she’s werewolf hunting down in North Carolina.”

Sam nodded. “Ah. Too bad, we could use her.”

Dean shrugged. “We got this, it’ll be fine.”

Sam grunted his response and started unlacing his boots. Dean sat back on the bed and laid out a cloth to set the weapons on before starting in on his 1911. 

After a minute Sam kicked off his boots and pushed himself backwards so he was leaning against the pillows on the bed as he picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. Dean was quiet until Sam settled on an old episode of The Simpsons and tossed the remote aside.

“Hey, do you know a guy named Scott Tippington? ‘Nother hunter?”

Sam scrunched his forehead thinking. “Out of Utah? Tall guy, blonde?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t know him, that’s why I was asking you. What’s he like?”

Sam sat forward a bit to pull off his overly warm flannel. “Well, if it’s the guy I’m thinking of, I only worked with him once, a few years ago.” He darted a look towards Dean. “When you and I were, uh, apart. After Amy.”

It was awkward for a moment before Sam looked back at the TV and continued on. “Anyway, I don’t remember a ton about him, but we ended up on the same Rugaru case and we hunted it together. He was good, I think. If he was bad or stupid, I’d probably remember him more.” He looked at Dean again. “Why do you ask?”

Dean shrugged. “Oh, just Y/N said she’s working with him again. This is like the third or fourth case in a row they’ve worked together, so I was just curious.”

Sam smiled knowingly. “Ah! I get it now.”

Dean scowled at his little brother and then went back to aggressively cleaning the barrel of his pistol. “There’s nothing to ‘get’.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow.“You’re worried Y/N’s getting a bit too close with this guy.”

Dean scoffed. “Whatever. She’s teamed up with him a couple times, and I just wanna make sure he’s not a tool that’s gonna get her killed.”

“Uh huh.” Sam said in tones of disbelief.

Dean shook his head. “Shut up.”

He didn’t bother arguing the point with Sam any further because he knew Sam would see through him - had been seeing through him for the last four years, since the day they’d first had a run in with the former FBI agent.

***

Dean had been immediately blown away by her. She was a power and a force all unto her own, and she was immediately suspicious of them. 

They were working the case of a shifter who was shifting into different parents, and snatching that parent’s kid. They were pretty sure the bastard was selling the kids to other monsters for obviously horrific reasons.

Y/N was only aware of the most recent kid, snatched ten hours earlier. She was on the case, knowing that a twenty-four hour clock was ticking. There were witnesses and CCTV camera footage of the boy’s father picking him up from school, so of course he was their prime suspect. 

But when Sam and Dean came into the local FBI field office and said they’d been instructed to interrogate that suspect, Y/N had just frowned at them and asked to see their badges again. She’d studied them for a worryingly long time before handing them back.

She squinted at them. “You look kind of familiar to me. Have we worked together?”

Both brothers assured her they’d never met and demanded again to speak with the suspect in custody. She’d reluctantly agreed and taken them into the room. But they got little new information out of the incredibly distraught father.

As they were leaving, Y/N caught Dean’s arm and he’d been amazed with how much that little touch had affected him and how badly it made him want to pull her closer, cover her delectable mouth with his and see what she tasted like.

But she’d merely asked him one more time if they’d ever worked together. When Dean denied it again, she shook her head and let him go.

But early the next morning, she’d been outside their motel room, pounding on the door. Dean’s bed was the closest and he stumbled out of it, half asleep, to open the door. He stood there in his black boxers and gray t-shirt and she seemed momentarily surprised, looking him up and down before she pushed past him into the room. 

“Hey!” He protested. He looked over at Sam’s bed, but it was already empty and made up. Probably out running. Dean thought with an internal eye roll as he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on as Y/N spun around to confront him.

“I know why I know you.” When Dean said nothing, she planted her hands on her hips. 

“You're Dean Winchester. And that guy with you,” she pointed at Sam's bed, “is your brother Sam.” When Dean still stayed silent she moved her hands from her hips and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Also, you’re dead.”

She began pacing back and forth in front of him. “After a horrifying and bloody murder spree across several states, you were both killed - ‘decapitated’ the report said. When I called the sheriff who wrote the report, I found out that both he and his daughter, who just happened to be the coroner who processed the bodies, were also missing and presumed dead.”

She turned back to look directly at Dean and in spite of the seriousness of the situation, he found himself once again caught up in how beautiful she was, in the way her eyes flashed as she studied him. And once again he had the impulse to wrench her forward and crush her mouth under his…probably a bad idea, he thought.

Y/N eyeballed him, but he couldn't decipher her expression. Her voice was stern when she spoke. “I should be here to arrest the murderers who faked their own death.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

She stared at him for a minute before she shook her head. “No, because you and your brother aren’t the only weird thing going on with this case. After you left yesterday I dug deeper into the case and stumbled across six other cases, from local municipalities, of missing kids. The cases had been reported to the FBI for consultation, but they all seemed cut and dry, so the locals took care of it themselves.”

She inhaled deeply, frowning at Dean. “The disappearances of all six kids were reported as parental abductions. In every case, there was footage of the parent picking the kid up from school, but every accused parent vehemently denied taking them. Four out of the six suspects arrested, also had ex spouses who refused to believe their former partner had taken the child because they were in very friendly and functional co-parenting situations. Oh, and all six kids were never found, and no body was ever recovered.”

She shook her head. “Now there is a seventh kid missing and it’s exactly the same situation. If you add to that, two fake FBI agents who are actually mass murderers back from the dead, well I gotta think there’s something more going on here that I don’t understand.”

Sam walked through the door just then,  freezing when he saw Y/N standing in the middle of the motel room. 

“Uh…”

Dean waved him in. “Come on in, Sammy. Time to give the talk.”

So, they’d spilled the beans about who they were and the life they lived. She didn’t believe easily, but eventually she admitted that there had been a few other cases in her ten year career that had felt off, that left her with a bad taste in her mouth about what was really going on.

She’d insisted on helping them find the seven year old boy that was missing, and with her help they’d found the shifter and put a silver bullet in his heart in time to save the kid and return him to his real parents.

After that Y/N tried to go back to being an FBI Agent, but eventually she came to see the boys. 

“I can’t go back to pretending that everything is normal. Everytime we’re going after a suspect, I’m wondering whether they’re actually a monster in disguise, or if they’ve got a monster framing them.” She’d shrugged. “So, teach me to be a hunter. I feel like there’s gonna be a lot of career overlap, and hey, the FBI doesn’t pay great either.”

So they’d helped her out, but she was a very quick study and it hadn’t taken long for her to become a great hunter. They often worked cases together.

Or they had until a few months ago when Y/N had met up with Scott Tippington and started working all her cases with him.

Tippington. Dean thought again, dismissively. Definitely a douche.

***

***

“Cheers!” Y/N reached across the table and clinked glasses with Sam and then turned slightly to touch glasses with Dean who was sitting beside her. 

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Cheers.” He said with a nod. 

They all took a big gulp of beer and then clunked their heavy glass mugs back down on the table. 

“So, how have you guys been?” Y/N asked, wiping her hand over mouth to ensure no beer clung to her upper lip. 

Dean grunted non-committedly and she looked to Sam for further explanation.

Sam chuckled. “That’s Dean’s way of saying taking down that nest of vamps we went after, ended up being a bit tougher than we thought it would be. Three of the vamps were friggin’ huge and they didn’t go down easy.”

“Shit!” Y/N said, shaking her head and looking Sam up and down. “They were bigger than you?” 

Dean answered. “Yeah, believe it or not. One of them picked Sam up like he was gonna bench press him and then chucked him clear across the room. Thankfully, I was too quick and agile for him to catch me.”

Sam snorted. “Yes, you were just like a ninja while the one with the beard had you in a headlock choking you out.”

Dean waved him away. “Got out of it didn’t I?”

Y/N chuckled and took another sip of her beer. Sam shifted his gaze from his brother to her and gave her one of his dimpled smiles. “How about you? How’d your last hunt go? Wolves right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, and then a wraith on the way back. They were both pretty quick and clean. We took them out without a problem.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Right you were working with uh…what was his name again?” He asked, as though the name hadn’t been plaguing his nightmares.

“Scott Tippington.”

Dean picked up his cardboard coaster and began shredding it. “Right. You’ve worked with him quite a bit lately. I guess he must be good.”

Y/N shrugged a shoulder, smiling fondly at the memory of her most recent partner. “Yeah, he is. I like working with him a lot. He makes me laugh.”

Dean nodded, a little rapidly, she thought. “Oh that’s good. Important that your partner can tickle your funny bone just before a demon smashes your head into a wall.”

Y/N frowned. “He’s a good hunter too.”

“Huh.” Dean grunted. “That’s good.” He nodded. “I mean it’s obviously more important that he’s a good hunter so, you know, he's not gonna get you killed. But it’s great that you get along so well too. Important.” He finished with a mumble.

Y/N looked at him askance. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The table was quiet for a minute until the waitress came by to drop off more pretzels and peanuts for the table.

Dean turned a bright smile her way and Y/N felt her stomach lurch as he moved into flirtation mode. She’d seen it many times before, over the last four years, and it never got easier. It was, in fact, the main reason she’d started hunting with Scott. She’d needed distance from Dean. She couldn’t keep watching him walk out the door with yet another new woman under his arm.

But once again, his charm was in full effect as he addressed their waitress. “Thanks sweetheart.” The waitress had long, dark hair, big boobs and a short skirt. She also had a very sweet smile that she flashed his way, making Y/N wanna scream or scratch her eyes out - maybe both.

The waitress popped a hip out as she stood beside their table. “No trouble, honey. Can I get you anything else? At all?” She asked, her warm brown eyes entirely focused on Dean.

Y/N thought the woman was being a little obvious and forward the way she rested her popped hip against their table and leaned forward so that Dean had a fabulous view of the cleavage revealed by her low cut, scoop neck t-shirt.

Dean didn’t even try to hide his ogling and Y/N gritted her teeth as he leaned his elbows on the table, looking up at the waitress. His green eyes glittered brightly with obviously dirty thoughts and promises. “Well, I wouldn’t mind knowing what time you get off.”

The waitress blushed prettily and bit her lip. “Um, I’m off at midnight.”

Dean gave an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Well, how ‘bout that, midnight is just when I was planning to head home. Maybe we could meet up.”

Y/N was clenching her teeth so hard she thought she might crack one as the waitress giggled and nodded. “Okay, maybe you can give me a ride home.”

Dean stared straight into the woman’s eyes and slowly licked his lips before speaking. “Oh, I can definitely give you a ride, sweetheart.”

“Jesus.” Y/N heard Sam mumble under his breath, but she didn’t spare him a glance. 

She was too intent on staring at the waitress who was practically salivating as she stared at Dean, before she giggled again and bounced away from their table. 

Dean watched her go with his head slightly tilted. 

When he swung his gaze back to her and Sam, he seemed slightly angry and she figured he expected them to bug him about his carousing while they were all just sitting at the table.

She wanted to make sure he knew she didn’t care, so she laughed. “Jesus Dean, why didn’t you just mount her right here on the fucking table.”

Oops, she thought, that sounded a bit more angry than teasing. 

Dean shrugged a shoulder. “What? I wanted a date, I got a date.”

Y/N snorted. “A date? A date implies dinner and a movie, I doubt very much you’ll bother with either. You don’t even know the woman’s name.”

Dean scowled at her. “It’s Cindy.” Y/N raised an eyebrow and he shrugged again. “She had a name tag, and I notice things.”

Y/N snorted. “Yeah, especially when they're pinned to a pair of enormous tits.”

Dean wore half a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He drained his beer in one swallow and stood up. “I’m gonna go ask Cindy for another one.”

He sauntered away and Y/N took her hands off the table and shoved them into her lap so Sam couldn’t see her shaking.

She raised her eyes to his and plastered on what she hoped looked like a real smile. “So, Sam, how is YOUR love life going?”

Sam chuckled. “Non-existent and boring.” He took a sip of beer. “How about you?”

“Non-existent and boring.” Y/N said with a small nod.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

“So…” Sam cocked his head. “You don’t have anything going on with this uh…Tippington guy you’ve been working with?”

“What? Ew! No.”

Sam frowned in apparent confusion. “Ew? Why ew?”

Y/N shook her head, her face still scrunched. “Because he’s the same age as my Dad!”

Surprise registered on Sam's face followed quickly by confusion. “Scott Tippington? Out of Utah?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, he's from Virginia, or…no West Virginia.”

“Oh.”

Y/N shook her head and then grinned at the idea of dating the grumpy old hunter. “I mean he's pretty good-looking for a 68 year old hunter. But…I think we're just gonna be friends.”

Sam smiled, chagrined. “That's probably a good plan.”

Dean sauntered back towards them and Y/N felt her stomach muscles tighten at his long-limbed, bow legged stride. Dean moved in a way that always made her take notice. When he was hunting, his movements were crisp and efficient, no wasted motions. He was precise and deadly. 

When he wasn’t hunting though, when he was relaxed, he moved his body through the world with a kind of ease, loose and almost carefree. He reclined in chairs, leaned in doorways, and put his feet up on tables. He stretched and relaxed his tall frame into comfortable positions that always made Y/N wanna climb up into his lap and cuddle.

He plunked himself back down beside her with a new mug of beer. Y/N tried to make her grimace look like a grin.

“So, you got your evening all planned out?”

Dean nodded and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, we’re outta here in about fifteen minutes.” He looked at Sam and winked. “Don’t wait up.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t planning to.”

Y/N let some of her frustration show. “So, you’re really gonna ditch us after like a half hour. I thought we were supposed to be catching up.”

Dean’s jaw ticked as she looked at his profile. “I figured we were all done catching up. Your wolf hunt went great cause you had your amazing new partner and our vamp hunt went kinda shitty cause we could have used an extra pair of hands.”

Y/N scowled at him. “Seriously? Are you pissed at me for hunting with Scott? I wasn’t aware we’d signed exclusive contracts.”

Dean chuckled darkly. “N’ah, we’re definitely not exclusive. You are under no obligation to us whatsoever. So, you’re good.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Y/N said and Dean turned to look at her. “You’re seriously running off to spend the night with wonder tits over there because you’re pouting?”

“Wow.” Dean said with a head shake. “Whatever happened to the sisterhood? That was pretty rude.”

Y/N scowled at him. “You know, you’re right. I should do my part for the sisterhood by going over to that nice girl and warning her to find another ‘ride’.” She said, using air quotes. “Cause God knows she’s gonna come to regret it when she turns into just another notch on your belt.”

There was no hiding her annoyance now and she didn’t bother.

Dean dropped his jovial pretext too and turned to face her better. “Why the hell are you being so preachy and judgemental? Since when do you give a shit who I fuck?”

“Dean-” Sam started to speak but Y/N spoke over him.

“I don’t.” she denied vehemently. “But I mean, Jesus. Do you ever think with anything other than the dick in your pants? I mean seriously, it’s gross.”

“Y/N-” Sam tried again but Dean leapt to his feet, banging the table and sloshing their beer across the wooden top.

“For fuck’s sake.” Sam mumbled as he jumped up too, trying to avoid the beer streaming towards him.

Dean’s face was furious as he stared down at her. “Well I don’t wanna gross you out, so I guess I’ll just go sit at the bar till I’m ready to go.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, guilt plagued her when she saw the hurt in Dean’s mossy green eyes as she slid out of the bench seat to stand just in front of him.

“Don’t bother. I’m gonna take off, got a lot of driving between here and my next hunt.” She stared up at Dean, hoping against hope that he might tell her that they should both stay.

But he just smiled a tight smile. “Yeah, say hi to Tippington for us.”

Y/N gave a terse nod. “Yeah, whatever.” She glanced at Sam. “Take care, Sam. Hope to see you soon.”

She didn’t bother addressing Dean again, just turning away and walking out the door, wishing she could leave behind her feelings for him just as easily.

***

Dean grabbed a rag from the bar and wiped up the spilled beer before sliding back into the seat across from his brother who was frowning at him.

“Dean, what the fuck is the matter with you?”

Dean glared back. “What’s wrong with me? Nothing’s wrong with me. Why don’t you chase Y/N down and ask what the fuck’s gotten into her lately. She goes months without seeing me, us, I mean, and then storms away just because I had the audacity to make a date for later.”

Sam let out a frustrated growl. “You really think she was just mad you made a date, which, by the way, is a very loose translation for what actually happened with the waitress.”

“No, she was obviously mad and took off because she thinks I’m gross, cause she disapproves of my lifestyle, I guess.” He said, trying not to let the hurt bubble up. 

What the fuck do I care what she thinks of my choices? He thought angrily.

Sam opened his mouth to say something more, but Cindy showed up at the end of their table.

“My boss let me off a bit early.” She smiled bashfully and nodded towards the door, clearly anxious to be underway. “Wanna go?”

Dean smiled at her and stood up, grabbing her hand. “Hell yeah, let’s go.”

***

***

There was a pounding on Y/N’s motel door that would have woken her up if she’d actually been asleep. But she’d just been restlessly tossing and turning, feeling guilty about Dean, but hurt over Dean too. The fact that he hadn’t texted back, clearly meant he was still on his “date”.

The long and short of it was she was in a rotten mood and the pounding on her door at two in the morning wasn’t helping. 

Stupid drunken idiots next door.

When they wouldn’t take the hint and go away, Y/N threw off the covers and stomped to the door, throwing it open, ready to tell them to fuck off. But it wasn’t her neighbors on the other side.

“Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, her surprise turning into a frown. “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s your date?”

“I got your text.” Dean answered, brusquely.

He was staring at her, raking his eyes up and down her form standing in the doorway. Two spots of pink rose in Y/N’s cheeks as she realized she was just wearing a ratty old t-shirt and panties. She tugged self-consciously at the front hem of the shirt trying to ensure she was covered. 

She opened her mouth to ask again what Dean was doing, but before she could get a word out, he’d pushed her backwards into the room with his hands at her waist. In one quick motion he kicked the door shut and spun her so he could slam her up against the wood-paneled wall.

She gasped, her eyes wide and her heart slamming against her ribs. Before she could get a word out, he was crashing his lips onto hers and sweeping his tongue into her mouth. He tasted like smooth whiskey and she was quickly drunk on him, her head reeling as his hands moved from her waist to grasp her cheeks and hold her steady.

His mouth ravaged her, pulling shocked and hungry whimpers from her throat. When he finally pulled his mouth away from hers, he simply trailed his silken lips down the length of her throat, while his rough hands strayed down her body to slip under the hem of her shirt and up her ribcage. His hands rested there, and he lifted his thumbs to brush tantalizingly against her rock hard nipples.

Y/N threw her head back, cracking it against the cheap wood paneling and knocking some sense into herself along with the slight pain. 

She shook her head and pushed against his forearms. “Dean! What the hell? What are you doing?”

He pulled his head up, licking his lips and panting heavily. His hands stilled, but they stayed warm against her ribs.

She tried to make sense of what was going on, but his tantalizing lips were still hovering above her and it was everything she could do to not simply ignore her sense of reason and latch on to them again. 

Instead she shook her head again and frowned. “Dean, what's going on? You were supposed to be on a date, remember?” She tried not to let too much vitriol into her voice, but felt like she’d failed. 

Dean’s jaw ticked. “I just drove her straight home.” He paused, still breathing rough. “I don’t want her.” His gaze dropped to her mouth again and he bit his bottom lip. “All I want is you.”

Y/N shook her head, willing herself to wake up and live with the disappointment of this all being a dream. “Dean,” she whispered, “what are you saying? Where is this coming from?”

Dean’s gaze turned sad before he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers. “Don’t date him.”

Y/N frowned in confusion. “Don’t date who?”

Dean shoved away from her and ran a hand through his hair as he began pacing. “I know I have no right to ask you, I have no right to you, no right to love you, I know I’m poison, I know I’m an asshole for trying to make you connected to me, I know I’ll never deserve you.”

He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. “I know Tippington is probably a much better option, but…” He strode three paces back to her and cupped her cheeks in his big hands. “But he can’t possibly love you more, want you more. I know that too.”

All Y/N could do was blink at him and then suddenly his words penetrated her brain and tears flooded her eyes and she begged her mind to just let her keep sleeping, keep living in the dream. 

Dean’s face crumpled and he looked stricken. He pulled her against his chest and she buried her face there. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry. It doesn't matter. Ignore me. It’s okay, I’ll be okay. You don’t have to say anything back. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please don’t cry.”

His voice sounded choked and he rubbed a hand soothingly up and down her back. “I shouldn’t have come here like this. I’m an asshole, just ignore me, okay?” He repeated, and took a shuddery breath. “Date who you want, of course. Don’t cry.” 

Y/N pulled back from the softness of his flannel beneath her cheek, raising an eyebrow as she shook her head. “And what if I wanna date you? Does that declaration of love come with dinner and a movie?”

It was Dean’s turn to stare blankly at her. She reached up and dashed away her tears before wrapping her hands around the back of his head and pulling his lips back to hers. Y/N kissed him for a solid thirty seconds before his brain seemed to kick into gear and understand what she was saying. When he did though, he growled and deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around her ribs and pressing her close. She reveled in the long, hard feel of him pressed up against her, the way she’d dreamed of him for so many years.

When they were both desperate for oxygen they finally broke the kiss and panted harshly as they looked into each other’s eyes, both of them thrilled when they read the real, solid proof of love in the other’s gaze.

Dean’s beautiful face split into an equally beautiful smile. “So, are you really picking me?”

Y/N smiled back warmly and let her hands rest against his scruffy cheeks. “Dean, I love you, and I choose you completely, over everyone, anyone. But…” She grinned at him mischievously. “Scott Tippington is sixty-eight years old and has never been anything more than a good hunting partner. Just so we’re clear.”

Dean frowned. “But Sam said -” He cut himself short before closing his eyes and shaking his head. “So, I was jealous of nothing.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Were you jealous? Really? Like me with the waitress…Cindy.” She gave a little eye roll.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, we’re a couple of dumbasses.” 

Y/N punched him lightly in the bicep. “Speak for yourself. I wasn’t a dumbass, I was a tragic pining heroine. After all, you gave me no hints you felt this way; how could I have possibly known?”

“Are you serious?” Dean asked incredulously. “I did everything but climb into your lap and beg.”

Y/N laughed and then felt her body warm as she laid her hands on his broad chest. “I’d be onboard for that.”

Dean’s eyes darkened as he lowered his head and captured her lips in a long, languid, sensual kiss, just dipping his tongue in to taste her and sipping at her lips.

When he pulled out of the kiss to nuzzle the shell of her ear and then suck her earlobe between his plump lips, Y/N gasped and clutched his shirt in her hands.

“Please.” She whimpered.

Dean gave a soft, slightly wicked chuckle against her neck as he skimmed down her skin. “That was supposed to be my line, sweetheart.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@rizlowwritessortof

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[notenoughncise]

Pretty Baby - Part 1

word count: 2.5k

warnings: alcohol, sex themes but no actual smut

a tightly wound y/n is quite literally knocked off her feet by matty. unbeknownst to her, the boys are playing in the bar she works in. when matty trips over her later in the night, he can’t contain himself.

pretty baby, you look so heavenly

a neo-nebular from under the sun

i was forming, some say i had my chance

the boys were falling like an avalanche

FEBRUARY

you hold your jacket closed with your fist as you run across the street. you didn’t have time to zip it up, you barely had time to grab your phone and put your hair up. it’s fucking freezing. clouds of hot breath appear and disappear as quickly as they came. you check the time on your phone; 5:58.

maybe you’ll make it before 6. if you keep running you can just bolt through the staff door and be on the bar in like a minute and maybe then your boss won’t pull you into the office to scream at you for the 3rd time this week. but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“what the fuck?!” you shout, feeling the air knock out of your chest in an instant as you land on the ground.

“oh shit, sorry. you alright, darlin’?”

there’s a guy standing over you, cig dangling from his lips, hand held out to help you up. if your jaw wasn’t clenched shut from the pain of falling it would’ve been on the floor. dark curls fall over his warm brown eyes, his cigarette stuck to cracked pink lips. for a brief second you find yourself imagining what they would feel like on yours. does he taste like cigarette smoke? or does he just think he looks cool if he has one every so often. what a life it would be, you think, to feel the rough skin of his lips against your skin. to have him drag those cracked lips across your clit. jesus christ. it’s been a while. a serious while. such a serious while that you’re genuinely sat sprawled out on the road and all you can think about is this guy going down on you.

you’re too lost in indecent thoughts about the boy who just knocked you over to properly realise that he’s holding his hand out for you. he looks embarrassed. good. he should be. but the blush in his cheeks makes him look even prettier than he already is. fuck sake - you think, taking his hand in order to pull yourself up. pain shoots through one of your legs and up your side as you come to your feet. rough fingers wrap around your wrist for more support. if he wasn’t so good looking you’d have probably punched him by now.

“sorry, darlin’. i wasn’t looking where i was going, and this thing weighs about twice as much as me.”

you notice for the first time he’s holding a giant guitar case (presumably with the guitar inside), which must’ve been what knocked you down. makes sense, he’s too scrawny to have sent you flying like that. and while he’s scrawny he’s not scrawny. he’s got a white muscle tank on which shows off his arms, despite it being february. they’re toned, almost muscly but not quite enough; probably from lugging that massive guitar case around everywhere. you can’t take your eyes off him. and then you have to.

“shit man, it’s 6.05. we're s’posed to be on in ten.” you can’t see who the voice belongs to, but it doesn’t matter. you feel your eyes go wide.

“fuck.” you whisper, dusting yourself down and readjusting the strap of your work bag. “hey, look man, it’s honestly no worries. i really gotta go - i’m late and my boss is a total wanker even if it’s just a couple minutes.”

he laughs lightly, it’s so gentle you might’ve missed it if you weren’t so glued to his face. the sound makes your stomach twist in knots. you hadn’t realised that he was still holding onto your hand. it might be cold enough for you to pretend it’s the weather making your cheeks so red.

“thanks for helping me up, though.” you say, sheepishly letting go of his hand; not really wanting to but knowing it had to happen.

is it normal to be this weak at the knees for someone you’ve known for all of five minutes? probably not, but it can’t hurt to be delusional every so often. you don’t wait for his response, starting to sprint off to minimise the bollocking you’re about to get when you wander through that staff entrance, but he shouts after you.

“anytime, love. even if i need to knock you off your feet again for it to happen.”

you shake your head and laugh quietly. you don’t turn back to look at him, because you’re honestly not convinced if you look that you’ll stop looking. but if you’d turned your head for just a second you would’ve seen the boy looking after you, getting punched on the arm by his mates, and those pretty pink lips turning upwards in a crooked smile.

-

“and what fucking time do you call this exactly?y/l/n?”

you’re leaning against the inside of the fire exit, breathing so heavily that you think your chest might explode. instinct takes over your body before common sense does as you raise your middle finger at your manager.

“i overslept okay? and then some idiot out there smacked me into the road with his guitar case. so if you don’t mind—”, you pause to look at your phone, “i think 6.08 is not that bad.”

“y/n, it’s a friday night. do you know how busy it is out there? you gotta start showing up on time, i can only bail you out for so long.” he almost looks sympathetic, and you would almost believe him if you didn’t know how much of a cunt he was.

“every single other girl in this building would’ve called and said she wasn’t coming in. you know that. i’m fucking here, okay? give me a minute to fix my hair and i’ll be on the bar.”

the rage in your tone is undeniable, as is the truth in your statement. you and him had spent so many weekends alone on that bar. running around the place like a pair of twats. you always showed up. always. you hear him sigh, watching him shake his head out of the corner of your eye.

“fuck sake.” he seethes, starting to walk away from you. “make it fast, yeah? between you and that fucking band being late I’ve a queue up the bloody street.”

for a second you consider just kicking the door open and going home. you’ve taken so much shit from this place over the years that sometimes you aren’t sure how much more of it you can take. you take a deep breath, pulling your hair out from your clasp and running your fingers through it to smooth it out, before quickly twisting it back up into a half arsed ponytail. as you exhale you can’t help but think about the pack of cigs that you left lying on your bed earlier.

cursing the fact you’d had to survive a friday night in this shithole pub with no fags, you let your mind wander back to the boy for a brief second. the image of that fucking cig dangling from his lips made your whole body pulse. do you wish you had been braver? a little more flirty? asked for a draw, and left him pining after you? only you hadn’t had time. or you would’ve. it was a crime to leave such a good looking man in your rearview mirror.

you could feel yourself clenching at the thought of his fingers around your wrist again. his calloused, rough fingertips trailing your chest; gently caressing your tits; dragging up your slit.

“oi! are you coming through or fucking what?”

“jesus christ.” you mumble to yourself, finding the strength to pull yourself off the door and through to the bar.

-

in all your years as a barmaid here you had never seen the place so busy. the room was so packed that you couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the band that was playing; couldn’t even hear a note off them either. but you didn’t need to hear them in order to know exactly what kind of band they were - barely 18 year old after barely 18 year old leaned over the bar to shout for a vodka diet coke, giggling to their friends about the lead singer while they fumbled for their ID’s and riffled through their purses for a tenner. your thumb was pulsing from pushing on the draft tap so often, head pounding from the lack of nicotine.

“hiiiiii! can i have two shots of tequila rose, please? and two glasses of malbec?”

“fucking hell, that’s quite the combination, love.” you laugh at the young girl across from you. she can’t be much older than all the other girls in here, but she had a much more chill vibe about her. “you got any ID on you?”

“oh yeah, sorry, here it is,” she mumbles, fighting with the clasp on her bag. “sorry i’ve changed my hair since I got the photo done.”

you smile and hand it back to her, turning your back to get her drinks.

“what’s the deal with them anyways?” you ask her, placing her wine on the bar. “every girl in a ten mile radius under the age of twenty seems to be in here tonight.”

“aw mate, don’t.” she laughs back at you. “i’m just here because my brother’s the bassist, but every single girl in here is convinced that matty is god’s gift to this earth.”

she taps her card to the machine, thanking you genuinely. as she wanders back over to her table the sea of people suddenly starts to disperse. you quickly pull your phone out of your back pocket; 11.40pm. last orders were coming up. thank fuck. even though it was only a seven hour shift it felt a million years long when bands were on. the whole bar had to get cleared out, cleaned, and the band had to get all of their shit out. usually turning a seven hour shift into a near enough nine hour one.

you survive the next five minutes, then ring the bell for last orders. and of course every fifty something man decides he needs six pints of guinness. and of course every young girl is panic buying shots like they’ll never see them again. and of course you’ve just split an entire bottle of cherry sourz down the front of you while trying to change the spout.

“dan?! can you finish this off, i need to change this shirt - i’m fucking covered in sourz.”

he looks as done in as you feel, handing you a dish towel and tucking a cig behind your ear as you speed off.

“lighter’s in the office. you look like you need it.” he jokes. he’s alright sometimes, but you’d never admit that out loud. especially not in his earshot.

the bliss of the first draw in the cold february air is borderline orgasmic. you shrug off your sticky top and sit on the back step for a bit. it’s no big deal, every member of staff ever employed here has seen your tits at this point.

you’ve only got a draw or two left when the wind’s knocked out of you for the second time this evening. you topple off the step, landing on your back on the concrete. it isn’t a hard fall, but it isn’t exactly comfortable.

“oh fuck, oh god. i'm so sorry, are you alright, darlin’?” tour heart perks up at the familiar voice. you lift your head up off the ground to be met with dark curls and soft brown eyes, a furrowed brow and a panicked expression hovering over you.

“we’ve got to stop meeting like this.” you laugh softly, slowly pulling yourself up off the ground.

“jesus, i’m so, so sorry, angel.” he says getting down in front of you, brushing some of the dirt off of your shoulders.

you watch his face as his eyes trail down to your chest, his breath audibly hitching. every hair on your body stands on edge. and what the fuck was actually going on? you don’t even know this boy’s name and you’re kneeled in front of him as he openly eyes your tits.

the air around the two of you feels so heavy. neither of you say anything, but he leans forward. you feel panic surge in your chest, almost embarrassed at the fact you can feel yourself getting wet. but he only wipes his thumb under your eye; “eyelash,” he says softly. “make a wish.”

you shut your eyes gently, silently wishing for a kiss as you blow the eyelash off his thumb. your cheeks burn even hotter. pussy clenching. this is fucking ridiculous. but you’ve never seen a man like him in your life.

“good girl.” he whispers. and you stifle a moan. you watch as he smirks, loving every bit of control he seems to have over you.

“i don’t even know your name.” you whisper back.

“matty,” he tells you, placing his hand on your waist under the guise of keeping you steady, “does knowing that make you feel better about being on your knees for me?”

your breath hitches. your face is so close to his that you can see every little imperfection. but it just makes him look even better.

“this is fucking insane.”

“yeah. little bit, angel.”

in an instant, he closes the gap between you both. soft lips roughly kissing you. for a second you don’t know what to do, but your brain kicks into gear eventually and you kiss him back. he tastes like cigarette smoke and wine. you whine gently into his mouth as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip, and you feel him gripping your waist tighter. fuck.

you don’t know how long the kiss lasts. both of you resisting the urge to take it further, considering you were on the ground outside a fire exist in the depths of winter. but it’s hard. he’s got one hand cupping your cheek still, the other now kneading your tits. your fingers are fumbling with the button on his jeans when you hear the office door slam.

you pull off matty. getting to your feet and shoving on your sourz soaked t shirt. you wander back inside. leaving him kneeled on the concrete.

“sorry,” you breathe out, “kinda forgot that i’m meant to be working.”

he laughs, rubbing his face with his hands, the same hands that not even 30 seconds ago were leaving bruises on your hips.

“s’all good darlin’. i’ll be back next week anyways.” he winks.

[icarus-star]

adoration. | ollie sway ♥︎

a/n: haiii guys!! :3 fluffy, rushed valentines day smut for my sweet sweet boy. afab!reader, no specifiedppronouns. praise, brief overstimming, fingering. very ooc ollie, i'm still not super good at writing him.

february 14th. ollie wasn't always too thrilled about the holiday. seeing couples together, happy and smiling. it's something he never thought he'd have. it's something he always wished he could have.

once you came along? it was probably one of his favorite days. as he had already set the table a couple of hours prior to you coming over. a plate on each side, along with a wine glass next to each plate. in the center, a vase of pink peonies and orchids, with a single red rose mixed into the bunch. plus the currently unlit candle next to the vase of flowers.

ollie was dressed the finest he could be. in his white button up, black vest and dress pants. it was really the only formal attire that he owned. he also debated on tying his hair up. he knew that you liked his hair, as long and thick as it was, but he also knew that it would be more appropriate to tie it up in the back. he decided on tying it back in a low ponytail, a curled strand of his hair loose as it was refusing to go back with all the rest.

knock knock! you had arrived early.

for a moment, ollie panicked. and then he remembered that he had already gotten everything done. he had cooked, set everything up.. and now he was opening the door.

"hey," he said with a sheepish smile. you looked so good tonight, so pretty.

"hii, ollie. :3" you greet back, entering his home like you had so many times before. "i like what you're doin' with your hair." you giggled, noticing how he tied it up for tonight.

♡

you and ollie sat across from one another at the dinner table, him sipping the red wine he had poured into his cup minutes ago as he listened to you talk. he liked listening to you talk. "oh, i almost forgot," you mumbled, grabbing something from out of your bag. "they're for you." you smiled, handing ollie a tiny heart-shaped box. it was just one of those little things of chocolate, probably about three or four pieces in it, but to him it was still thoughtful.

ollie smiled. "thank you, so much." he says with genuine gratefulness. any gift from you is perfect to him. "i actually got you something too," he says, leaning over the table towards you.

he placed a quick peck against your lips, pulling away right after. "uh, actually more than that.." he said in a hushed tone, kissing you a bit deeper. both of you moved away from the table, closer together. his lips moved so gently against yours.

the two of you stumbled together into the living room, you collapsing onto the couch for ollie to climb on top of you. the kisses deepened, becoming hotter and a bit rougher. with your lips against his, you pulled the hair tie out of his hair, allowing it to waterfall to his shoulders and get in your face. you liked it this way.

his hands moved down to rid you of any clothing below your waist, his index and middle finger quickly finding their way to your needy clit. "fuck," you groaned, throwing your head back against the arm of the couch.

ollie kissed down your neck, as you had given him full access. "you're so perfect." he whispered into your ear, hurriedly pushing his finger's into your cunt. this caused you to moan a bit louder, especially as he began curling them inside of you. "so pretty.. love you so much," he muttered, his thumb circling your clit.

"ollie, fuck!!~" you whined. "please, hah! kiss me again~?" you moaned, your brain foggy from how fast ollie was going with his finger's. he wasn't usually like this. of course, he complied with your wishes, his lips on yours again.

your tongues slid together, almost distracting you from his hand on your pussy. his finger hit that softer, spongey spot inside, making you gasp into the kiss. he chuckled, brushing the tips of his finger's over that spot again. "you're really cute," he mumbled, kissing your jaw.

you couldn't help but whimper at every little touch, he made you feel so good. his thumb against your clit, his other two finger's hitting every spot perfectly in your cunt. you both could tell that you were close. "cum for me, okay? please, cum on my finger's." he whispered into your ear.

you swallowed back, nodding your head. "mhm, yeah..!" you whined, your chest heaving with every exasperated breath.

"you can do it, just focus on me. uh huh.. like that," he cooed against your cheek. "wanna make you cum so badly, i love you, i adore you." he murmured, every word causing you to get closer to the edge, right until "i need you to cum for me.." the sensation of release washed over you, causing you to let out a breathy moan as ollie kept going.

it was too much, he kept up the same rhythm that made you cum, repeatedly drawing circles over your clit, his finger's hitting that perfect spot inside. he didn't want to stop, he wanted you to feel the best you could. "olliiiee, please!! s'too much. :(" you whined, which finally caused him to stop.

he pulled his finger's out of your throbbing cunt, licking them clean of all of your wetness. "m'sorry for going for too long, just wanted to make you feel good." he mumbled, positioning himself to lay next to you on the couch, your head rested on his chest.

"wait, you didn't cum t--" before you could finish that thought, ollie was hushing you. "i don't care, i wanted this to be about you. not me." he says, kissing your temple.

[lesbian-gnf-archive]

you should take about The Hoodie Saga I think . i have so many demons (<- was there for the whole thing) but I think baby fans have no idea of the lore behind that damn smile hoodie. George was so insane for that 🤕 my man really said what if I pretend you're my boyfriend ?

Okay baby dnfers buckle up, this is one of the most insane sagas.

So in December 2020 during the famous Trident stream Dream reveals that George told him he wanted to buy a 5xl hoodie, take a picture of it, and caption it "Just stole Dream's hoodie". Dream tells him that wouldn't be funny and George is like "tbf it'd be kinda funny" and that was that for a while. So George is insane, nothing new.

And then flash forward to February of 2021 and Dream mentions on a Karl(?) stream that George actually bought the hoodie and he had video called Dream to show him how big it was. Dream in his words "took so many screenshots, but he'd kill him if he posted them". So George bought a 5xl hoodie and showed it off to Dream privately and sounds like had no intention of posting pictures himself. Okay.

Onto the famous second red hoodie stream still in February (I couldn't watch it live cuz I was hanging out with my friend 😒) and Dream has been teasing George the entire stream with Quackity. Quackity mentions he has incriminating screenshots of George and Dream mentions he has the ones of his hoodie and he'll post them if George reaches his subgoal. George tells him not to. Dream says he has to pick which ones he wants to share and calls them "the cutest pictures of George ever" (direct quote.) He then posts them:

(I don't have the second pic saved but it's a 100% candid of George doing absolutely nothing)

Next (still in February I believe) George streams and he's clearly wearing the hoodie. Chat is spamming it and he's giggly and flustered and says "And, the hoodie-" on accident instead of stream or smth. Later on the stream Sapnap joins and reads a dono saying "Does George wear cologne? I'll answer this, no." And George says "I actually put cologne on before the stream" and Sapnap asks "why??" And George responds "It just smells good, I don't know." He then says "I sprayed Dream's hoodie with cologne" and takes a big whiff of the collar. So. George almost never wears cologne but he put some on the hoodie that he calls Dream's and he had no intention of sharing this until it was brought up and he smelled it. Cool.

And then months go by and George wears it again, does a fit check and calls it a "very basic, but comfy fit"

And then in October 2021 George posts a TikTok about his leaky roof and Dream mentions it while they're doing a podcast. He goes "Wait, George, did you put that hoodie on for the TikTok or were u just wearing it? (Definitely already knew he was just wearing it)" "I put it on for the TikTok 🙄 No I was just wearing it, you know that" "Let's fucking go*

And that's the last we see the hoodie until December 2022 where George wears it for the first ever Dream Team Christmas streams and it's the first time we the audience had seen it in over a year. Which is still the craziest thing he's ever done he knows what he was doing like

And that's the dnf Dream Hoodie Saga of 2020-2022

[emerxshiu]

FORGOTTEN LAND'S SECOND ANNIVERSARY :3

I AM SOOOO BACK

I started this drawing yesterday around afternoon and finished it just a few minutes earlier.

I went with a messier type of drawing instead of more clean like the elfilin one from yesterday, i find it fun doing it like this, mostly cause i dont have to worry about making it perfectly so i dont get as frustrated as normal. Id place this one as my second best digital drawing. im pretty sure i havent posted what i consider my best digital drawing here, tho i do have it in instagram, i might post it here one day, tho these two are way too tied up, i love how this came out, its not exactly like how i imagined it but its really close to it, and also itd say that since i dont tend to play around lighting that much, this was such a joy to draw and i cant help but stare at it a lot, at least until i start hating it because i made quite a lot of errors. i also changed my elfilis gijinka just a tad bit from last time, but its not that big of a difference, mostly.

ofc i had to draw elfilis for forgotten land's anniversary, i tend to deny it in my head but yeah they're my fave of the kirby characters even tho i hate them a bit. I wanted to draw some more doodles, like, elfilis eating cake, kirby car, a bunch of other stuff (not elfilin cuz i already drew him yesterday) but when i tried i couldnt draw anything more, guess this drawing burned me out a lot, huh?

you can definitly tell i spent all the efforts on him cuz if you look a bit closer to the bottom part you'll see its almost barely detailed, but i mean, they're the focus so make sense i guess for me not add that much detail there. um also, maybe because i dunno i had OVER 130 LAYERS jeez no wonder firealpaca was slowing down so much, i need to manage my layers better next time, tho i did do something i keep forgetting, wich is naming them (most of them at least) that was a real life saver

Also, antares (fecto elfilis' spear/cadaceus), as always, was a pain to draw, but this time its probably been draw the most accurate out of every other drawing ive made with it in it, i didnt notice it was like, a little curved when it reached the blade

some close ups since his face is a bit hard to see

silly :3

fun fact! actually, this is technically a redraw, somewhere around between february and march i started a fecto elfilis drawing for the first anniversary, but i couldnt finish it in time, and i never finished it

thats...quite the improvement! (i remember being so proud of it)

also his wings are like that cuz i did not want to draw the pattern, its way too hard, i literally copy pasted it, wait, i was talking about the 2024 version but i looked at the 2023 one and i just noticed it also has the pattern copy pasted, i guess some stuff never changes since i still abuse the ctrl+c ctrl+v to this day

Also i ended up making a huge error there, i was planing to add the phantom spears from orbital pulsar (the attack he does first when you battle them at lab discovera) but theres an innacuracy, when they do the attack, they always close their eyes, i had actually sketched him (well i mean both these drawings are basically the first sketch (2023) or second sketch(2024) with some color, shadows and lighting. i didnt do lineart in the 2024 one cuz i wanted to be a bit like the og i made (too bad i sketched that one with black since the og was sketched with white due to me drawing the bg first)) with his eyes closed but them decided to make them open for a reason i cant remember, maybe i thought itd look nicer? idk

ive had the idea of redrawing this for quite some month now so it was kinda already planned

background cuz i think it came out really pretty

doesnt have the little stars since without elfilis and the structures it looks fucked up. the actual sky in game is more blue, but the clouds have some orange, in the 2023 ver. i made the sky orange, and in the 2024 ver i wanted it more accurate, but i didnt wanna loose the orange sky, so i did a gradient. pretty...

also here's a screenshot i took when i was like halfway trough it, its barely noticeable but i changed his mouth in the final drawing

I really love katfl, like a buncha whole lot, its basically almost my first mainline kirby game. 100% the demo, finished the game in almost one day, i literally play it monthly, like, every month i put the card in my switch, start it up, get morpho sword, and go shred elfilis in lab discovera. i would probably not even be here on tumblr and the kirby fandom if it werent for it. and i love it so much i genuinly cannot express how much i like it and treasure it with words or anything

Thank you for reading my unnecesarily long rambles lol

I hope i'll post tomorrow and dont forget like usual

Jambuhbye!

[pub-lius]

Why don't you have any detailed posts about Steuben smh do better

AW FUCK NO MY REPUTATION!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE THE GAY HISTORY PERSON IF I DONT HAVE A DETAILED POST ABOUT STEUBEN!!!! i have to fix this...

Early Life

Friedrich Wilhelm August Heinrich Ferdinand Baron de Steuben was born on September 17, 1730 in Prussia. He joined the Prussian army at the age of 17, so he got a real early start.

Note: I've written his name here as "Baron de Steuben", as this name is from a French record, however he is typically referred to as "Baron von Steuben", as "von" is the translation of "de" from French to Prussian, and they both mean "of" in English. I just wanted to clarify that for the sake of my own linguistically correct sanity

Steuben began his service in the French and Indian War (or Seven Years War if you're a dirty European) as a second lieutenant, and was then wounded at the Battle of Prague, a Prussian victory. Then, he joined General Johann von Mayer's adjutant and principle staff officer in a special detached corps.

Then, he was promoted to first lieutenant and wounded AGAIN at the Battle of Kunersdorf, which was a Russian and Austrian victory. He was then transferred to general headquarters as a staff officer in the position of deputy quartermaster (this is important!!).

He was taken prisoner when Major General von Knoblock surrendered at Treptow, and was released after a year in 1762. He was promoted to captain and then became an aide-de-camp to Frederick the Great, which is as metal as it gets. He joined the King's class on the art of war, where he learned even more super cool military leadership skills.

Life Between Wars

Steuben met St. Germain in Hamburg (a notoriously great place to meet people). If you aren't in the know like I clearly am, St. Germain would eventually be the French Minister of War during the American Revolution. They'd meet again in France when Steuben was serving as Grand Marshall to the Prince of Hollenzollern-Hechingen, and if that sounds made up to you, it's because you don't even know him like I do.

Steuben continued looking for military work, but those European assholes (the British, French, and Austrians) rejected my man for no good reason (probably because he was gay or something). It was during his stay in France where he heard of the rowdy Americans across the pond.

St. Germain introduced Baron von Steuben to Silas fucking Deane and Benjamin "Slim Shady" Franklin, but they weren't able to promise Steuben anything but some regurgitated American propaganda, since, by this time, they were already getting yelled at by Congress and Washington for allowing too many incompetent Frenchmen into the Continental Army. They told him that the only way he could assist in the American fight for independence would be to go to America and present himself as a volunteer to Congress (like Lafayette ended up having to do).

This obviously pissed off Steuben since he was actually experienced trying to get a job, because its not fun being an overqualified, unemployed gay man in 18th century Europe. But still, he settled for being a volunteer, and set out for America, his passage being paid for by the French government.

WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETERRRRRRR

Steuben traveled to America with his Italian greyhound, Azor, and his two assistants, Louis de Pontiere (ADC) and Pierre Ettienne Duponceau (military secretary). They arrived in New Hampshire on December 1, 1777. They were almost arrested upon arrival because Steuben had a blond moment and mistakenly dressed them in red uniforms instead of blue. They traveled through Boston to York, Pennyslvania, arriving on February 5, 1778.

In Steuben's letter of recommendation, Franklin mistranslated Steuben's rank to "His Excellency, Lieutenant General von Steuben, Apostle of Frederick the Great", which made him seem way more distinguished than he was. As a result, he was presented a much higher rank by Congress.

Steuben was ordered to report to Washington's headquarters at Valley Forge, where he arrived on February 23, 1778, and was described by a soldier as "a perfect personification of Mars."

Steuben's good first impression also had an effect on Washington, who appointed him temporary Inspector General, and it was in this position that he had his largest impact on American history, and changed the course of the war

Why Every Army Should Have Gay People, An Essay by Publius

Baron von Steuben began his transformation of the Continental Army by writing training drills, overriding the regional trainings of the state militias into a unified and universal regimen. There was a significant language barrier, however, as Steuben originally wrote the drills in French, which were then translated into English by Duponceau, John Laurens, and Alexander Hamilton. Then, they were given to the brigade inspectors, who made the copies which were then copied to be delivered to each officer. There was definitely a more efficient way to do this, but you know. It was also Valley Forge.

General Washington's Life Guard and some men from each state (totalling around 120 men) were used as a model to show the rest of the army how they were supposed to go through the drills. As they trained and demonstrated the drills, Steuben was writing new ones, only a few days ahead, which is a massive time crunch. This was done intentionally to make the drills as simple as he could, so the training of the army was dispersed in a rapid, orderly fashion. This man was a genius, I can't emphasize it enough.

The officers in the British army, which was the standard for Americans in many respects, would allow the sergeants to drill the men, but Steuben said fuck that, I'm gonna do it myself. This made many American officers uncomfortable because the men developed a bond with him because of how talented he was (and the fact that he was funny and used profanity in multiple languages), and along with the fact that Steuben's office seemingly had no limitations, this caused them to complain to the big boss, Washington. To make them feel better, Washington issued orders on June 15, 1778 to govern the Inspector General's office until further word from Congress.

The reformed Continental Army showed off their swag on May 6, 1778 when they celebrated the news of the Franco-American Alliance, which impressed soldiers, officers, and civilians. More happy news came when Steuben was given his commission from the Congress as Inspector General, with the rank of Major General.

It was at the Battle of Monmouth when the new training of the Continental Army was able to take what would have been a losing battle for the Americans to a technical draw. Steuben was actually almost killed/taken prisoner (depending on the mood of the British) during this battle because he was wearing so many metals of honor that he glimmered in the sunlight, and was spotted by the British. He was fine, though.

General von Steuben went to Philadelphia in the winter of 1778-79 to write his book of regulations, referred to as The Blue Book. Lieutenant Colonel Francois de Fleury, a volunteer, assisted in writing it. It was with the assistance of ~Benjamin Walker~ and Duponceau that the blue book was translated into English, which is why we know Walker as being important! And the fact that he and Steuben totally boned! Anyway, Captain Pierre Charles L'Enfant was illustrated it, and the book was used all the way until 1814.

After the war

General von Steuben rejoined the Continental Army in April of 1779 to serve through the end of the war. He was an instructor and supply officer for General Nathanael Greene's southern army from the beginning of the southern campaign until Yorktown. Steuben commanded one of three divisions in the Continentals at Yorktown. He assisted in demobilizing the army in 1783, and resigned his commission in 1784, which is actually the latest I've heard of a Continental General resigning his commission!

Steuben continuously petitioned Congress for financial compensation for mesothelioma (not really) and fuck ass Congress only gave him a part of what he was owed, which was pretty typical. But! New York, Pennsylvania, and Virginia all gave him land grants, which he sold portions off to have enough money to live. So, he retired from NYC to his land holdings to live the remainder of his life.

Oh, and fun fact, Steuben was present at one of the riots in New York that Alexander Hamilton tried to stop, and they both had bricks thrown at them. It might have been the Cadaver Riots, but I could be wrong since I didn't feel like double checking.

Steuben never married, and instead lived with Benjamin Walker for a long period of time. He died on his 16,000 acre farm tract in the Mohawk Valley of New York on November 28, 1794.

Homosexuality

The source I used for this does not mention his homosexuality at all, but I'm going to, because the last thing you'll ever see me do is pretend like gay people didn't exist or are "unprofessional" to talk about in history.

If you say that Alexander Hamilton was gay, you have to say Steuben was, and vice versa. Rumors of homosexuality followed Steuben from Europe all the way to America, and play a large role in why he relocated many times, and never seemed to have a permanent home until the end of his life. This was a form of unofficial exile that many queer people faced in times where their existence was illegal. As soon as your name was associated with possible homosexuality, you couldn't get comfortable anywhere.

But von Steuben wasn't brought down by this, and you've gotta respect that. He threw elaborate parties starting almost as soon as he arrived at the Continental Army. If you're new to the amrev community here, this is what we mean by "flaming shot/pantless parties", because they had shots of liquor that they would light on fire, and in order to get in, at least part of your breeches had to have been missing. While straight men did attend these parties, the subtext in discussions about them seem to imply that they were also a gathering place for queer men.

These parties continued, and some familiar faces were there, such as Duponceau, Walker Hamilton, Laurens, and, later on, Charles Adams. However, I'm not going to speculate on who was fucking who, though it has been largely accepted by historians that General von Steuben and Benjamin Walker were lovers, and I personally think there is substantial evidence to support this when you align their personal correspondence with the close proximity they maintained throughout their lives.

General von Steuben is a figure that is very important to many queer people as a conspicuous queer man in history who had an undeniable impact on the course of American history. Portrayals of Steuben in media typically disregard this, however more and more biographers are discussing his homosexuality and the significance it plays in queer history. So, I'll end this post by saying this: Steuben is just as significant in American history as he is in Queer history, and it is irresponsible to pretend like he isn't.

Source:

National Park Service- Valley Forge

British Battles.com- Battle of Kunersdorf

George Washington's Indispensable Men by Arthur S. Lefkowitz

John Laurens and the American Revolution by Gregory D. Massey

Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow

Anyway, thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about Steuben lol. I didn't previously know much about his life before the American Revolution, so I was very happy to learn. I actually bought a biography about him not long ago, The Drillmaster of Valley Forge: The Baron de Steuben and the Making of the American Army by Paul Lockhart, but I haven't read it yet. If anyone has, pls let me know if it's good or not. After Massey and Chernow, I'm practically on my hands and knees begging for a male author to treat queer history seriously. Anyway, thank you for the ask! I'm going to go watch the george washington mini series for steuben content

[celefrfr]

hiii!! can i get an angst to comfort joost fic where the reader is just having a really hard time lately w everything. like family, work, and just everything in general is stressing her/them out so they get really distant bc they feel bad about burdening joost and joost jusr shows up at their apartment and is like “why” and they break down in tears and it ends all fluffy?

February i almost died.

notes: this is actually a bit gotten from a real story, i removed the happy part of it , made parts different , and i just added joost lol, im good now, dont villanize my mom, she was very sad too because she knew i was always crying, shes a good person

summary: literally look at the request 👍

relationship:joost×fem!reader

WARNING! theres a part where Y/N commits sh (head banging)

Reader was always a very clingy person to Joost, always texting him, asking him to hang out, going to restaurants, but, november came, her mental health started to go down, she felt lonely, like nobody wanted her, like she was a burden, she never spoke, whenever she did she'd get ignored, she always argued with her parents, she made each of them cry at least once, she was guilty, she was close to running away from everyone and never coming back, the only thing stopping her was that she didnt have any money to use, one day, she was in her room listening to music, bawling her eyes out, in fetal position,her mom came in, she kinda screamed "go shower, and do your room." her voice cold "CANT YOU SEE HOW DOING RIGHT NOW?" Y/N screamed back "Y/N, youre never happy." her mom left and closed the door, Y/N got up, and slammed her head into the wall twice, she got white flashes each time, joost lived in an apartment, attached to hers, he could hear the banging, the crying, the screaming, as Y/N was pacing back and forth in her room just crying, joost was trying to find her , she didnt want to be a burden to him, so she ran to a public bathroom and just cried there, her eyes were already puffy from the day before since she cried everyday, when she calmed down, she went back to her house and into her room, just to find joost talking with her parents, he was almost screaming, arguing "YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER IS ON THE VERGE OF KILLING HERSELF OR RUNNING AWAY AND WHAT DO YOU DO? OH YEAH, LETS SCREAM AT HER A BIT MORE, MAYBE SHE WILL BE HAPPY, WHERE IS YOUR COMMON SENSE?" he yelled, her dad yelled back "SHE TRIES TO MAKE HERSELF A VICTIM,SHE NEVER LISTENS" joost didnt even answer, he noticed her rooms door closing so he ran and found her on her bed, staring into nothingness "what happened?" he asked, his tone concerned, he was almost gonna cry too, Y/N didnt answer, she just fell into his arms,crying, she showed him the mark of her head on the wall to him, he didn't say anything, he just packed her bags and got her to his house, made her favorite tea, atleast attempted to, since it was an ethnic recipe, put it near his bed, and got with her, trying to comfort her, he held her to his chest, she gave him a faint kiss on the cheek, the stubble hurting her face a bit, she didnt care, since it was him "Why didnt you tell me anything?" he asked "i didnt want to be a burden to you." she answered, he didnt say anything, just hugged her, he saw her eyes getting heavy, almost falling asleep on him, she looked so cute but so miserable, the only things keeping her alive were him and her phone, he kissed her, and told her "just know that if you even ran away i would find you and come with you.", the period of her life that went from november to february finally ended, she was there, felt happy, loved, for once.

[masterjedilenawrites]

On this here February 1st, I'll be showing some love for the 21st Nova Corps, a unit lead by Marshal Commander Bacara and Jedi General Ki-Adi-Mundi. I couldn't find any other named clones from this unit outside of Bacara, and I haven't written for this guy before, so I'll do some headcanons just for him :)

The 21st Nova Corps

I did a quick dive on Wookiepedia first, and here were some things that stood out to me from what's apparently already been canonized:

The 21st Nova Corps has a reputation for being relentless and exceptionally conditioned/disciplined.

This is in large part due to Bacara having super high expectations, he will kick anyone who doesn't meet them out of the squad, even without Ki-Adi-Mundi's approval.

Actually described as being "at odds with" Mundi, though in another section was said to have a grudging respect for him.

Bacara utilizes aggressive tactics and is extremely strict. He ignores the recommended GAR practice for commanders to remain inconspicuous in battle, and instead chooses to lead his troops from the front.

He's described as a loner and stern. I saw somewhere he was besties with Neyo, too, and they developed combat techniques together.

With that foundation, here are some headcanons I have for him:

Doesn't talk much, but not because he's shy or emotionally constipated. He really only cares about war and rarely meets people who are interested in discussing the topic with as much passion.

Like seriously, he has no other hobbies or interests. Music? Never heard of it. Sports? Boring. Holo-films? Food? Knitting? Yeah no, he's already walking away from this conversation.

If he is comfortable with someone though, he can talk about battle strategies for daaaays.

Fucking hates milk.

Has a mind for improvement. Not quite a perfectionist, he just won't ever settle for "good enough" when something better is still achievable.

Thus, he's constantly working angles in his head, coming up with possible solutions, thinking outside the box. Even for common, everyday situations like getting out of traffic or folding the laundry.

Jason Bourne vibes.

Has one small tattoo on his foot, will never say what it is.

Natural at picking up languages. Fluent in Mando'a but can carry simple conversations in plenty of others. 

Spends his R&Rs pouring over wartime history/strategy books in the archives, with a beer.

If someone asked him on a date, he would straight-up say "why?" So confused.

He would be a pretty good partner, though, if he ever opened himself up romantically.

And if he could ever find someone who meets his high standards...

I also read that he was featured on a GAR campaign poster, and I firmly believe he secretly has a massive print of it taped to the back of his closet door.

Can not roll his tongue. Every other clone can and it pisses him off.

Has the best laugh you've ever heard in your life. He does use it occasionally, but very randomly. Not even his squad has been able to work out what exactly his sense of humor is.

His squad... All are just as intense and passionate as their commander. When they're not fighting, they're training to fight. There's no room for shenanigans or relaxing.

Other clones keep a respectful distance. They know the Nova Corps get sent to some pretty hardcore places.

Most of them have never set foot in 79s, or any bar for that matter.

Bacara goes every once in a while, because he does like a good beer, but he's very out of place. Just... kinda sits there... not doing anything...

He gets hit on a lot because he's smoking hot but has never taken anyone home. Not opposed to the idea of getting laid, but it would take a lot to catch his eye.

Eeeevery once in a while, when life gets a little too still and his thoughts wander past all the combat tactics and weapon factoids that are usually in the way, a deep and vulnerable feeling makes its way to the surface and almost cripples him: loneliness.

He has no idea what to do about it, so rather than face it like he would a charging battalion of droids, he instead pushes it right back down and moves on.

Okay but now I'm imagining Queer Eye showing up to help Bacara find some hobbies and a girlfriend 😂

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831

Other Clones Tag: @kaijusplotch, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @severalseashellsbytheseashore (it won't let me tag you), @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @mishakoon

✨Join A Tag List Here!✨

🌟 2024 Clone Battalion Series Master List | 🌙 Master List of Master Lists

[esilher]

Collaborative December klaine challenge 2023 between @esilher and @mynonah

The Great Bikini Incident by @mynonah "Kurt," Blaine calls as he walks through the door. He frowns. The apartment seems suspiciously dark and quiet. He glances around the hallway to see if he can spot any of Kurt's clothes from today, as a sign that he's home, but immediately realizes it's a futile attempt. How could he tell if any of the 65 pairs of boots and at least 30 different coats were there or missing? Before he can finish the thought, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.  Kurt.

To: Blaine They kept me here for a meeting, I won't be home until later. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you tonight.

To: Kurt Hm... That sounds like a fair offer ;) But really, don't worry about it, Kurt. I love you!

To: Blaine I love you too! Oh, and when I ran home to get my sketches earlier, I left you something special. I can't wait to see you wear it!

Smiling, Blaine walks into the living room and immediately sees a white paper bag on the coffee table with Vogue written on it. The grin slowly spreads across his face. When Kurt brings him something, he always feels like a little kid at Christmas. After photo shoots, they sometimes get to keep the things. The offer is open to the models in the first place, but the accessories are less popular - much to Kurt's delight. Last month, he brought Blaine a pair of designer sunglasses and a beautiful silk jacquard scarf for himself. Blaine peers curiously into the bag and furrows his eyebrows at the surprisingly small amount of red fabric. "It's not even enough for a scarf,"he thinks. "Is it a neckerchief? Maybe a pocket square." He pulls it out of the bag and stares at the small piece of cloth in amazement. Well... Two pieces.   "What the hell?! Is this some kind of joke I'm too tired to understand?" He takes out his phone again.

To: Kurt Kurt, honey. Are you serious?

Kurt replies almost immediately.

To: Blaine I know it's a little wild... but you know... This is fashion! It only works if it catches the eye. It didn't really fit the model, but when I saw it... I knew if it would suit anyone, it would be you! You'll be gorgeous. You already are. I can't wait to see it on you.

"Wow. That's... new," Blaine thinks. He lets out a deep sigh and twirls the tiny red bikini in his hands with a slightly desperate expression on his face.

Soon, though still a little hesitant, he begins to undress to try it on. He goes back to the mirror in the hallway and takes a closer look at himself. After a few minutes, he comes to a decision. "Well... It's weird, but..." turns around and looks at his butt in the mirror,"not that bad..." he says proudly. And damn. If his husband thinks it's sexy, then fuck, he IS sexy! Armed with this newfound confidence, he marches into the kitchen to make dinner. He doesn't change, decides to surprise Kurt, his heart pounding at the thought.

When Kurt arrives an hour later and walks into the kitchen, the first thing he sees is Blaine's curvy butt in a tiny red bikini bottom as he moves delicately to the music filling the room, the string of his apron swaying gently. His mouth hangs open in shock, and he has no idea how long he stands there before he finally finds his voice and speaks.

"Um... Sweetheart?" his voice is much higher than he expected, but at this point he's not surprised.

Blaine turns and gives Kurt his warmest smile. "You're home! Surprise!"

"It... is. Um... don't get me wrong, but... What the hell are you doing?"

"Cooking. Pasta. For dinner."

"No... honey, I mean... what are you wearing?"

"Your surprise gift, obviously. You were right, it's quite wild, but..." Blaine interrupts his own sentence and suddenly throws himself into a seemingly well-rehearsed sexy (or intended to be sexy) pose. Kurt can't believe his eyes, his brain racing wildly. Is it possible to get heatstroke in February? And if so, is it actually him and he's hallucinating, or is it Blaine and he's out of his mind? Suddenly he realizes that Blaine has been calling his name for some time. "Kurt?" He shakes his head and closes his eyes for a moment. Then he grabs Blaine's hand and leads him toward the bedroom. "Wow. This bikini really works," Blaine thinks proudly as he follows his husband.

Once in the bedroom, Kurt guides Blaine to the bed and stops abruptly. On the bed, right in front of Blaine, is another Vogue paper bag.

"THIS is yours," Kurt says simply. "Oh." Blaine's smile slowly fades as he realizes what this means.

Kurt waits patiently, but after seeing Blaine is completely frozen and hopelessly in shock, he reaches into the bag and pulls something out. He shows Blaine a colorful, striped, beautiful shawl-collar cashmere cardigan. The colors are a little too wild, it's almost childish, but still beautiful, and it looks extremely soft and comfortable. Blaine's beautiful face flushes with horror - first white, then almost immediately red.

"I got this bikini for Rachel," Kurt says, unable to hold back the laughter rising in his throat. "But..." he adds, finally catching his breath and running his eyes up and down his beautiful, incredibly embarrassed husband, "you can keep it. It's actually kind of... hot," he says, pulling Blaine closer and kissing him deeply until he feels Blaine relax in his arms.

[t00nyah]

t00nyah explaining project moon without actually explaining project moon

after posting lcb trigger warning i wanted to do this

or

me explaining project moon in the shortest way possible except its goofy af bc im eepy and lazy but im in a desperately talkative mood (i post mostly about limbus company since it came out cmon)

what the fuck is projmoon:

project moon is the coolest ever indie game development team we love them; they've made three games so far, also have an unfinished novel, a...idk, just another novel that was initially a comic but im a hater (im sorry(not)), and another comic

they've been doing it for like 7 years almost and still have no idea what optimization is but its okay we love them

there's a lot of killing and just amoral guys in general who can and will kill thousands. its THE 'your meow meow killed thousands of people' 'and they looked good doing it!' universe. everyone is fucked up there guys. but UMMM thats kinda the appeal

so the games! we all here are gamerzzz!

LC

it all started 6 years ago, when lobotomy corporation released in early access and my gf was like hey look what i found

lobotomy corp is a game where you're a manager in a big company, L corp, and you have to get your guys, employees(lucky ones who got the job) to work with abnormalities(fucked up creatures) so they would generate enkephalin, a big energy resource

except your guys will probably die when you're already so attached to them so you just restart the day each time this happens

theres like a maaassive plot, it is the beginning of literally everything, like some stuff still haunts us in limbus company (looking at a particular individual) and there are more characters that you'll fucking love(sephirahs) and then learn their fucked up story (and then learn your fucked up story and not be happy about it)

ah yes while im on it theres no actual self incert in project moon games im sorry but every character IS a character

gameplay-wise you just have to organize your guys, give them equipment, assign them to a job, make them suffer and struggle to suppress abnormalities if they try to make a mess(kill everyone) and do hard tasks your besties make you do

LoR

later, in like 2018 i think, they almost immediately after full release of LC announced a sequel, library of ruina

library of ruina is a game that continues the story(duh) and i can't tell you much about it without spoiling lob corp too, but in this one you have to USE BRAIN like A LOT because its a STRATEGY CARD GAME

in this one you dont even have a character you play as, you just follow the characters' on their journey. but dw! you'll get your own customizable guys to adore here too!

basically in this game the characters from LC and your guys are called librarians and you have to greet guests of the library, that were specifically invited there and /tp-ed, basically fighting them. every battle has its own story and eventually it branches off into four arcs and oh gott i love library of ruina a'right you meet characters for like one story and then have to fight them knowing their issues and how life fucked them over enough to get there</3

gameplay-wise you build cool decks from cards of those you've killed for your guys, pick guys for fight and then pick cards. simple. i think. not so simple in game but i simplified it

there's also a lot of amazing lore drops, bc in LC we were kinda isolated and focused on the corporation, but in LoR? we get to see all kinda of people of The City, we learn about The City, we learn about factions and all, we get all the lore we missed by being stuck in that manager chair

LCB

okay and now we're here. limbus my fucking company.

limbus company was, again, announced almost immediately after LoR's full release(PM are CRAZY), and released february 27 of this year, and already has more story in word count than lor does or so i've heard...

limbus company is pm's first mobile game(but dw there is a steam release if you're more of a pc person or your phone will explode if you try to install it(and it will)) and their first...(behold) gacha game. yep. but no dont get scared it actually has the best gacha system ever known to men

they've also tried to make it enjoyable without getting into previous games but to me it doesnt feel right i dunno i feel like it's just not that cool without knowing the context and going insane screaming at carmen or connecting the dots, also like the events of LCB are all connected to LC and LoR, so ummm if you try to get into limbus without at least learning what the other games contain be ready i'll personally explode you

in this game you basically play as dante(they/them for the sake of mysteriousness of 'who TF they are') and you have 12 deranged guys named the sinners who are ALL BASED OFF FUCKING CLASSIC LITERATURE did you fucking know pm are fucking literacy nerds and cant have a game without book references without exploding??? well they are.

so the characters (IN CASE YOU'RE INTERESTED) are:

1. gregor (metamorphosis, franz kafka)

2. rodion (crime and punishment, fyodor dostoyevsky)

3. (emil) sinclair (demian, hermann hesse)

4. yi sang (the wings, yi sang (kim hae-gyeong))

5. ishmael (moby dick, herman melville)

6. heathcliff (wuthering heights, emily bronte)

7. don quixote (don quixote, miguel de cervantes)

8. hong lu (dream of the red chamber, cao xueqin)

9. ryoshu (hell screen, ryunosuke akutagawa)

10. meursault (the stranger, albert camus)

11. outis (the odyssey, homer)

12. faust (faust, johann wolfgang von goethe)

also don't forget dante is based on the divine comedy by dante alighieri!

also dante DOESNT FUCKING KNOW SHIT. faust seems to know all shit and never tell dante.

i mentioned it being a gacha game. so like. you dont pull characters. instead you pull the initial deranged guys' alternative versions where they end up on another job like cult leader or a terrorist idk

the best part? you dont necessarily have to get them from gacha in most cases, you can get special currency, ego shards, to get whatever you want separately. also pm added ideality that you get from unfortunate pulls that you can spend on the special identity from the banner. but tbh i think its way easier to get the shards needed than pull that much, not really worth it

gameplay-wise? well. you have to basically just choose your guys' identities(those alt versions, they use them in fights to be stronger), choose their skills, a little similar to ruina (except TBH lcb lets you fuck around and put it on auto until it doesnt really work out (please dont autoplay with r corp ishmael or at least check what they're doing you silly goop they might do friendly fire if you're stupid enough)). the game consists of cantos, chapters that tell you a separate story of a sinner(in the order i gave earlier, not everyone knows that), that have story-episodes(cool ones), story-and-fight-then-episodes(epic ones), and sometimes just-fight-episodes(who the fuck thought those are a good idea?). and in the end of a canto there's always a dungeon. honestly, first two cantos are easy enough to just learn basics yourself, im rambling at this point

there's also hellish grind options and paid stuff like battle pass with the coolest perks ever

also LoR and LCB have mili songs, which is fucking cool, they're such bangers. no no projmoon games' ost in general. just fuckign bangers my guys and i mean it.

well that was fun and games. like i mentioned theres also:

Distortion Detective

im such a fucking fan of this unfinished novel, im so upset they abandoned it </3 pm did say they're probably going to rework it as a game or smth later but in my opinion it just loses its charm if its not a novel

distortion detective ... i cant explain it without spoilers to the games but its basically about moses, the distortion detective, who solves distortions which are like uhhmmm... people turning into some funky shit(that expresses their feelings). and she has a parthner named ezra. they're both poor traumatized women. and stuff happens. thats all i can say without spoiling everything. you learn a lot about the distortion phenomenon from moses' perspective.

WonderLab

wonderlab is a comic made by artist mimi, that follows taii, rose and catt. its about another lobotomy corp branch that actually introduces us to the concept of abnormality aberrations (slightly similar but different abnormalities like we have a little red riding hooded mercenary's(do you remember me mentioning pm being literacy nerds?) team fortress blue team version or whatever) that is used in limbus quite a lot so we old people from LC can be like 'heehehehe this is like like snow white's apple's aberration, so funny, reminds me of good ol' days...'

Leviathan

my main enemy. initially it was a comic, but i think they had to stop working with the artist for some reason and continue it as a novel instead.

issue?

i didnt read it. im so sorry i failed you. but i cant. first vergilius, main character, is ugly AS FUCK and he's STUPID i hate his guts. BUT OH DEAR LORD HE APPEARS IN LIMBUS COMPANY AND I HATE HIM EVEN MORE. AND NOT JUST APPEARS, HE'S THE GUIDE OF THE BUS, HE'S KINDA ALWAYS THERE. I HATE HIS GUTS. oh hey lap-- charon, no, you're good, you're amazing, vroom-vroom, yes, right, you're so right.

i'm pretty sure it has A LOT of important context for some stuff in LCB but i just CAN'T MAKE MYSELF TOUCH IT. please read leviathan for me.

i'm sorry it turned into a looong ramble but here's t00nyah's awful brief guide to project moon. in case you want to know about world-building or the story in particular...i'm always here to dm me. please do. i really love telling people about project moon. there's just a lot to unpack.

edit. okay apparently it was easy to misinterpret my leviathan commentary so im putting this here for the sake of clearing the confusions for future!! tl;dr: i know it wasn't continued as a comic for REASONS, it's OBVIOUS!! and yes, leviathan is important, i just can't make myself read it therefore don't have enough knowledge to write about it(cool idea: write your own post about leviathan if you're seeing this and are enthusiastic about it! i just won't.), i still don't like vergilius, it's just a me-thing. DO read leviathan if you're interested</3

edit2. after thinking for a while, decided to add this just in case: i was given a summary of leviathan! well. it IS something. (opinion on vergilius hasn't changed much sorry not sorry, still a me-thing.) but yeah 👍 all good 👍 still not liking it much, mayhaps because i couldn't read it myself, but. it can be found here in the comment section.