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#it's kinda weird that I have so many bird ones
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It was another competion the entire family all shoving and pushing each other into the car to see more of Damian's art.
Tim is excited for Damian.
He knows what it's like, to stand there and have no one show up. To be there all by yourself for hours the only one to visit your booth being the art teacher.
Ms. Carrington who would ask questions and ignore the tears that pooled in his eyes before helping him pack everything up, sometimes even driving him home because of course neither his parents or Bruce could be bothered to pick him up.
He can't really help the envy that he can feel building in his chest mixing with a good chunk of repressed anger.
A elbow being jabbed into his ribs distracts him.
"Hey what's with the face? Perk up Boy-Loser it's Damian's night."
He turns to Steph the smile that he had been attempting to plaster on falling. It's such a stupid thing it's a nickname so what if it's demeaning, he gets called pretender or replacement by Jason what does it matter.
"Do you ever think it's kinda fucked up that not a single person in this family calls me anything that isn't an insult?" He snaps.
She looks shocked. How fucking dare he have an ounce of self esteem. Someone alert the Media Tim Drake isn't a dormat.
He turns away sliding into the crowd.
There's less then half an hour left before he can leave. Pratically throwing himself down in the empty hallway as far as he can get from this entire night.
"Baby bird and Timmy aren't insults? Or are they I can't seem to keep up with the kids these days."
He turns, of course. You might be able to run from Batman or lie to him, but you can never escape the grasp of Big Brother Nightwing.
"So your admitting that your old?" he joins the banter.
His muscles start to unclench another superpower only Dick Grayson seems to have.
"Never, something you want to talk about?"
Does he? No. Should he? Yah.
"Maybe I just don't want be insulted every day of my life. So weird who doesn't want to be reminded they suck?"
He can hear the whine, he can also hear that everything he just said isn't gonna matter. You don't take whiny little boys seriously. And that's what he is.
"Hmm you know I get called Dickhead or really a lot of just penis related jokes. Always hated them not that it really stops anyone."
He looks finally making eye contact with his big brother. Because he's right. How many times has he heard anyone in the family other than him and Damian call Dick anything nice. Never not once. Maybe Bruce but he can't really picture it.
"Also don't think I didn't notice how annoyed you are with Bruce about this entire night, which I don't blame you for. You know I love Damian kiddo, but yah Bruce is not winning a mug from me or you."
He doesn't really want to acknowledge any of that already exhausted and he will have to apologize to Steph and if he opens the box it will be a car ride from hell home.
"Luckily for you I have a car parked a block up we can escape get ice cream and have a nice sleepover in bludhaven."
He wants to so bad, he wants to throw himself at Dick who knows him so well, who followed him out here, who isn't blinking, the only adult who has ever not somehow fucked him over.
"What about Damian? He will be pissed at me for stealing you or something. He doesn't need another reason to stab me."
He turns to look back at the floor.
"Foolish Drake I will be coming with you Father is being insesently annoying and I much rather talk about art with someone who has a brain cell."
Both him and Dick whip around to see Damian standing there a slight blush on his face hesitation making the corner of mouth twitch. He sees Dick looking on unsure. He doesn't hesitate.
"Thank god I know a great place with that Vegan Cookie Dough you like. What you waiting for Big Bird? Let's go. "
Climbling to his feet he grabs Dick and Damian dragging them to the exit he hears Dick's confused muttering sharing a secret smile with Damian before ignoring it.
The night is finally looking up.
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nolanfa-clayworks · 2 months
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So now I have a *bunch* of sgraffitoed medaillons. Here are all of my bird-themed and sea-themed medaillons patterns, and some variations within what I count as the same pattern. The small ones are for earrings.
Also in case anyone is European, I'll be at a ceramics market in Alsace / Elsass, in Soufflenheim (at the Halle Municipale), on the 17 and 18 of august, where I'll be selling those (among other things)
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witherbythesword · 2 months
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#when i was a kid I was kinda neglected and my parents didn't like me very much but whatever#in tv there would always be these talent#and they would stare little kids with they parents being THERE and PROUD#so in my kid brain i thought: alright so to better my situation i just need to get really good at something and then they'll care for me#and the only skill i had been complimented on before was drawing#so i started teaching myself drawing#birds because i liked them and plants because i thought my mother loved and later skeletons because i was emo lol#and i think how i am so perfectionist in my art (eventhough i try to be happy with just whatever i make these days)#and i think about that quote of suzanne riveca thats like:#(my art) has to be perfect it has to be irreproachable in every way to make up for it#to make up for the fact that it's me#and about that one tweet that went something lile#sometimes we strive for pervection in our art because we hope to one day create something that doesn't look like we made it#and how i love drawing and hat that knife against my throat that hinges my life on it being good#and how no matter what i do#I can't get rid of that sinking feeling that i always have to struggle and earn my place in someones life#even when i know it's not like that and thats just the mentally ill part of my brain being loud and dumb#Like i got so many issues under controll by now#many reason to be proud! and be positive about things getting better and my own strength#but some part of my brain is still that little girl alone in all the empty rooms#and i can't get her out of there#because the strength that girl needed to make it through is the same strength i need to help myself through the waves of the aftermath#like i feel like to heal i'd need to allow mysf to be weak but that prospect of not holding myself clenxhed like a fist is so scary#and also knowing how bad my brain can be who knowd what would happen lol#and I WISH not every therapist in my city that accepts patients was a weird nutjob#so i could talk to them about it rather than the tumblr tag#but this is the hand we've been given and it's the hand we need to hold or however that goes#a few days ago someone called me charming and that was very nice#tumblr still limiting the tags to 30 😔 how is a girl supppse to therapise herself in that economy????#whatever!!! i am shattering like glass but at least i have viddy games and cool people in my life that like me despite it all and music
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keeps-ache · 5 months
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mm i Neeed to go the beach
#just me hi#wauhuhh !#something about just drifting around in water that i am slightly scared of that really makes my brain whir happily lol :>#i am slightly scared of it for two major reasons: 1) fish. lord the fish why are they so scary 2) sometimes i think i'll drown and they jus#won't find the body. which is less rational than the fish so that's why fish is my number 1 fear at all times lmao#/i think out of all the animals on the planet i am the most scared of ordinary fish. not even the deep sea stuff hfbshv#cuz look they're so far down there you Have to assume they look funked. and also they prolly don't like human meat. so it's cool#but regular fish?? some of them eat birds. they eat birds dude. what would they do to me if they knew how to use harpoons??#also they for SURE eat corpses so we loop back to fear no. 2 really just being fear no. 1 hbfhs#/see i'm not even that scared of the animals my parents are determined on exploding. like man if i get eaten that was prolly bound#to happen anyway. i Know how that goes. i know what mauling is lol#i am the only person in this house who will walk around outside on a moonless light w/ no flashlight because if i was sposed to be dead i#can guaranteE there are much better opportunities. funnier ones‚ too#/just looked it up bobcats are SHY little guys. they are just shy babies. except for when they have rabies :)#shy rabies babies <3#/anyway back to the fish. i don't like how there are some that specifically like to eat human skin. mmm no i have never liked that ever not#one little bit. makes my skin crawl hghfsh#i don't care what it does or can do that is NOT cool lil dude ;w;#/hang on i'm googling 'weirdest things fish eat' because i want to scare myself i guess hbfhvbsf :'3#they're only showing me weird fish!!! no !! tell me about a fish that's living exclusively off of plastics!! or car tires !! come on !!!#these guys are just funky looking. and just Kinda funky looking. though this humphead guy is funny lol :)#he looks scary but with a charm that i can't deny#his forehead. and mouf. this guy is awesome#and of course he's endangered because the world is exploding. but it's so cool he exists :D#//anyway fish are scary. and miss humphead is Huge so goofiness aside he's also scary hhfbvs#also why do some of those motherfunkers swim close to shore and bite at you. those guys suck so bad#that's only happened to me so many times but enough for me to have a fear that has lasted for over half a decade lmao#//and anywho i'm running out of tag space lol :)#we're going ot the park!! i'm going to skate :DD !!#i wanna get good at my old stuff again hfsh - so bye! bye !! toodles !!!
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arklay · 2 years
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DANI HAINES x CLAIRE REDFIELD / template.
#mine.#pair: dani x claire#oc: dani#click for better quality ♡#i was originally going to upload both the claire and carlos ones in the same post but their colours clash together i feel so i'll leave it#for now (i mean i still need to get a picture for him cause it's hard finding hd ones of his face model)#anyway!! the cooking one. i've talked about dani and cooking lmao but i also feel like claire is like... they are microwave chefs. or order#takeout. they are not good cooks lmao and good for them honestly!! like i have many thoughts with claire but i won't ramble too too much in#the tags because we all know how i get!! also they both spoil each other but dani is like. a lot. she's... she's a lot. font is supposed to#be similar to made in heaven logo on her new classic costume and jacket but ya know. just the vibes!! you understand!! and helicopter icon#for dani will be used on carlos template me thinks but butterfly for now. couldn't find nice bird ones but i mean. they are both her lil#motifs so it's fine!! but yes now you know what i mean when i was saying their colours are like a watermelon and i'm kinda obsessed with it#OH also dani's jealousy level is higher than both claire's and carlos' which is so funny to me because like they are in a v polycule so#those two are just friends and she's the one with two partners and yet she's the more jealous one. okay dani. i love her#the shut up kiss makes me go insane though... looking at first to confess and first to kiss and gestures vaguely. i'm normal about that!!!#and first thing in my edits tag that isn't blue... this is weird this is so so weird oh my god#posting this now even though people are busy and such but if it stays in my drafts any longer i'll lose my mind soooo goodnight besties hope#everyone is having good holidays!!
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ajdrawshq · 2 years
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for the pmd octopath au i Could have just made each character have color palettes that fit their canon selves and called it good like a normal person (something that most ppl do for pmd aus) but No. instead. i need to make them variants and hybrids to justify every part of them i change
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kazumist · 6 months
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COULD IF YOU WOULD .ᐟ
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✩ — the two times aventurine referred to you as his "work wife" and the one time he seems to have left out the "work" part.
✩ — includes: aventurine x f!reader. fluff (?), crack. cw: ooc!aventurine probably, very messy and i kinda hate this piece LOL. wc: 820. reblogs are very much appreciated !!
✩ — note: trying to write aventurine as his usual self now and not some delusional hc that i have of him yay! (i went through hell and back writing this just to get the dialogue match his way of speaking.) pretend that the ipc holds company dinners btw 🥹.
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you don’t really know how it started. but maybe it’s because your co-workers tease you both too much about how you and aventurine act like an “old married couple” due to your constant banter, or maybe it’s because of aventurine’s (annoying) flirtatious remarks towards you.
however with the constant jokes and all, even aventurine got infected because there’s times when he would refer to you as his “work wife” as well. the first was when you were out at a company dinner. working in the same department with aventurine didn’t really help your… predicament, but for some reason, it wasn’t so bad.
“so how are you two love birds doing?” a co-worker asked, clearly drunk from the way they slurred their words and how red their face was slowly getting. aventurine just laughs at them—casually swinging an arm and resting it on the back of your chair. “my work wife here seems to be doing well, right?” he glances at you, a whiskey glass in hand, as he rotates it with his wrist. he was simply met with a glare in return. people wouldn’t care if you responded anyway because they’re too drunk to even remember this in the morning.
the second time was when you two got stuck in an elevator ride. and the worst part? aventurine purposely pressed at least four floors below your destination on the panel just so he could chat with you. “wouldn’t it be a nice idea to ditch work for today?” he asks, his eyes focused on both of your reflections from the elevator’s doors.
“you’re insane.”
“my dearest work wife, you wound me! i was simply asking you out.”
“no one would ever agree if you asked them in that way.” you refused to make eye contact with him.
“if i asked normally, then where’s the fun in that?”
when the elevator hit the current floor, you made your exit despite the floor not being your destination yet. 
of course, he had called or referred to you as his “work wife” many more times than this. however, as for the third one, it was when you were assigned to work with aventurine to dig up some information in a bar of sorts. a bar is quite a dangerous place in general, but you both had no choice but to split up so work would be faster.
that is, until you started being pestered by some stranger at the bartender’s counter.
no matter how many times you told him to go away (in reality, you really wanted him to go fuck off already), he was just being too persistent. but you couldn’t do anything because it would most definitely cause a scene—and you don’t want that. it was starting to suffocate you, how the stranger kept getting closer.
“dear, who is this?” you knew that voice from anywhere. you looked over to your side and saw aventurine next to you, already wrapping his arm around your waist as he looked at the stranger from head to toe. after telling him that you had no idea, you swore you could’ve seen his jaw clench for a quick second. playing along was mandatory with how the situation is turning now, even if aventurine had to pretend that he was actually your partner (well, technically, he is your partner for this assignment).
“who knew that there was actually someone indecent enough to hit on someone’s wife?” it was weird. you always felt icked by how aventurine kept calling you his “work wife." but this time, it was weird. and you hate it.
because you had a revelation that you liked the fact aventurine called you his wife at this very moment.
aventurine has a way with words. he always does; he knows what to say to rile up someone—to provoke them. it was no surprise that the stranger became another one of aventurine’s victims when it came to his provocative terms. yet, it was all over in a blink of an eye because the guy retreated. (you weren’t able to understand what aventurine specifically said to him, but does it really matter at this point?)
“are you alright?” he asks. 
“yeah. thank you.”
“how about we hit the hay for tonight? i managed to gather some information anyway.”
“agree, i was able to catch some as well.”
“really now? we make a great team, don’t we?”
“don’t let it get to your head, aventurine.”
he chuckles. “i was serious, though.” you look at him, confused. “about…?” aventurine leans to your ear and whispers low: “we could actually get married if you would let me do the honors of asking for your hand.”
thwack!
“ow! hey! i was only kidding! okay maybe i wasn’t but—hey! that actually hurts a lot now!” he yelps as you slap him by the shoulder repeatedly. “you’re insane, i tell you!”
maybe being called aventurine's work wife had its perks after all.
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bratzforchris · 6 months
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Ways to Say "I Love You", C. Sturniolo
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Summary: Five times you knew Chris better than himself, and the one time you didn't<3
Pairing: Chris x feminine reader
Warnings: Mentions of drinking/hangover (y'all i know he's techinally not of legal drinking age in the USA. this is fiction)
Word Count: 4.3k
A/N: I genuinely need this man in my life so bad actually. Anyways, enjoy some tooth rotting fluff. XOXO<3
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1
“Bruh,” Chris groaned, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. “I feel like shit and I don’t even know why.”
You looked up from your phone, eyeing your boyfriend up and down. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” he whined, rolling off the couch dramatically. “My head hurts and I’m tired.”
You sat up from the gray couch, standing over Chris, who was sprawled on the floor, pouting and whining. You definitely felt bad for him, but at the same time, you knew Chris tended to over dramatize the smallest, most random things. “Do you have a fever?” 
Chris shook his head, rolling from his back to his stomach, but not getting off the floor. “I don’t feel sick, but I just feel like horse shit and I don’t know why.”
You observed him for a moment, before an idea dawned on you. Having ADHD, Chris tended to forget to eat and drink, so hyperfixated on something or too many thoughts in his head blocking the reminders to fuel his body. He was medicated for it, which both helped and hurt. Sometimes, he would be able to focus enough to remember his meals, but other times, the meds would dissipate his hunger cues. “When was the last time you had something to eat or drink?”
“Hmmm,” Chris’s blue eyes looked thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged. “Dunno. Which is weird because I’ve usually had like, six Pepsis by now, but we’re out and Matt didn’t go to the grocery store yesterday, so…I don’t know.”
You shook your head with a soft chuckle, helping your boyfriend up off the floor. “I think that might be the problem, sweetheart. Is there something you want to eat?”
“Do we have chicken nuggets?” Chris asked you, picking up one of the stim toys he had left on the floor last night as he followed you into the kitchen. “That reminds me, isn’t it weird that chickens can’t fly? Like…are they even real birds?” he asked you. 
“I dunno, hun. Google it.” You told him gently, pulling the bag of chicken nuggets out of the freezer.” 
“Do you think chickens are sad that they can’t fly? Like do they look at cardinals and go ‘Damn, why can he fly but not me’?” he hummed, flicking at the toy. 
Chris was wrapped up in his own little world as you made his lunch. He didn’t even get the chance to Google his chicken question before he was distracted by a Spotify notification, which led to him loudly singing a Lil Skies song, dancing around the kitchen. As much as you hated how difficult ADHD could be for him, Chris had one of the best personalities you had ever met; he was bubbly and outgoing, always the life of the party and always willing to cheer you up. You quickly plated his nuggets, along with some other random foods that you knew he would love, before sliding the plate across the island too. 
“See if that makes you feel better.” You explained with a soft smile. 
You watched as Chris downed the food, along with a Gatorade you had given him, only to see a smile dawn on his face. 
“I feel better now,” Chris mumbled shyly after a while. “Thank you. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. You literally always know me better than myself, it’s kinda weird.”
“Why is it weird?” You asked with a snort. 
“Cause it’s like you’re magical or something. Which it would be really cool if you were.”
You smiled, kissing Chris’s soft brown hair. “I love you too, hun.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
2
Tour life was difficult. No one would deny that. As much as the triplets were absolutely loving the Versus tour and all the antics they were getting to do, as well as meeting fans, they had to admit that it was exhausting. Not only were they running on an extremely tight schedule, it was wearing on Chris the most, simply because he was getting next to no alone time with you. It wasn’t that he simply wanted the alone time for sexual reasons, rather, you were the only person that could calm his mind, letting him just be. 
“Baby,” You hummed, softly stroking the brunette’s face. It was still dark out, just past six am, but you had a surprise for him, and you knew Chris would later complain about his sleeping in if he found the missed opportunity. “Wake up, honey.”
Chris wriggled beneath the blankets, sleepily blinking his blue eyes. He was freezing and it was dark out; way too early to be awake. “Too early.” he groaned in his morning voice, rolling over to face the wall with the blanket bunched around his shoulders. 
“I have a surprise for you.” You said, a bit more excitement in your voice as you shook him harder. 
The word ‘surprise’ immediately woke the boy up as he rolled to face you. You were already dressed in one of his hoodies and a pair of leggings, eager to get on with your plan. You were practically bouncing up and down like an excited little kid, hoping Chris would love what you had come up with as much as you did. 
“Why the fuck are you awake? It’s dark out,” he moaned. “Come cuddle me instead.”
You snorted at your boyfriend’s dramatics, quietly pulling back his blanket so as not to disturb Matt and Nick. “Get dressed, you big goof. We’re leaving in ten.”
As much as he wanted to argue and go back to sleep, Chris couldn’t deny that he wanted to understand what had caused the giddiness in your aura. He quickly pulled on his favorite hoodie and sweatpants, cramming his messy hair under a snapback as he followed you down the bus steps and out onto the quiet, dark sidewalk. He didn't know where the bus had stopped during the night. Philly maybe? But he didn’t get time to think about that as you simply nodded to one of the members of the triplets security and then took his hand, dragging him down the sidewalk. 
“Where are we going? I miss my blanket.” Chris pouted. 
“Me too,” You nodded, trying your hardest not to disclose the surprise. “But I do have something that’ll make you feel better.”
Chris didn’t know where you were going at this point, but he followed you anyway. He would’ve followed in any life, had someone asked him the question. You two continued to walk for a few more blocks until you stopped in front of a brightly lit diner, its neon signs illuminating the darkness of the street. 
“Pancakes?” Your boyfriend asked, perking up as the smell of bacon drifted from the restaurant. “Goddamn, I knew I made the right choice dating you.”
“I am pretty amazing,” You giggled, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “Let’s eat.”
You stepped into the diner together, immediately being sat at a booth and having your order taken. You and Chris both ordered an immense amount of breakfast food, quite tired of the protein shakes and cereal that came with bus life. 
“How did you, um, find this place?” Chris asked bashfully, stirring his straw around his Pepsi. 
You shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee. “I was just looking for things for us to do alone and it came up,” You hummed. “I love Matt and Nick, I really do, but I also like to have one-on-one time with you, and I could kind of tell you needed some, too.”
“How do you always manage to know exactly what I need when I need it?” he asked with a chuckle, brushing his hand over your knuckles. 
You smiled, a blush dotting your cheeks as your waitress came over with a tray full of all the food you had ordered. “I just do.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
3
“Baby,” Chris whined, sprawling out across your shared queen sized bed. “Don’t leave me. I don’t need food, nor do I want it.”
“But you do.” You said pointedly, looking him up and down as you slipped on your Uggs. 
“Nuh uh,” he fought back, smashing his face against a pillow. “You’re making me feel sick by not laying with me.”
“I’m not making you feel sick. Your choices are making you feel sick. No one told you to drink as much as you did.” You chastised gently, crossing the room to kiss his forehead. 
You and Chris, as well as his brothers, had gone out last night with a large group of friends, to include Johnnie and Jake, Tara, Larray, and Sam and Colby. Things had gotten a little…out of hand, leaving you with a very hungover Chris, who was making miserable noises as he clutched his stomach. 
“You’re not even laying with me,” Your boyfriend pouted. “My head and tummy hurt and I wanna be cuddled and you’re being mean.”
“You’re so grumpy when you’re hungover,” You snorted, kissing his forehead again. “I’ll be right back, babe.”
Chris whimpered again as you propped him up with several pillows, tucking him in and making sure he had water and a bucket nearby. You had opted to get him IHOP, figuring a good amount of carbs would ease the symptoms he was currently experiencing as a consequence of overindulging in alcohol. The time between you leaving the triplets house, picking up food, and returning home was less than forty five minutes total, but it felt like an eternity to your hungover boyfriend who simply wanted cuddles and for his headache and nausea to go away. 
You entered the bedroom, takeout bag in hand. “I’m back. Nothing to cure a hangover like a big, greasy breakfast,” You smiled, settling onto the bed and pulling out plastic containers of food. “Once you eat, you can take some ibuprofen for your headache.”
“I’m not hungry.” Chris whispered softly, feeling too unsettled to eat. 
“You know your tummy will feel better once you eat.” You cooed, stroking his stomach over the comforter. 
“Nuh uh.” he groaned, snuggling further into his pillow and blanket.  
“It will and you know it. You know you can’t drink that much, hun. I dunno what you expected to happen.” You explained softly, pushing some hair out of his face gently. 
As much as he wanted to continue to whine and be difficult, Chris had to admit you were right. A good breakfast and some sleep sounded really, really good right about now. He softly sat up, taking a sip of the Gatorade you had left on his bedside table last night. “Mkay…I’ll try to eat, I guess.”
You didn’t say much as you two began to eat your breakfast. You knew Chris probably had a raging hangover headache right about now, and you didn’t want to make it any worse. Once your boyfriend had had enough to eat and taken the pain relievers, he curled up into your side, placing your hand on his stomach. 
“...you were right,” he admitted quietly, always hating to be wrong. “Now I need belly rubs and sleep.” 
“So demanding,” You fake huffed, kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, hun. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
4
Chris Sturniolo was not the type to let anyone know he was upset. Sure, he would jokingly whine and complain about things when he felt like being irritating to his brothers, but he would never actually let anyone see when his feelings were hurt. You knew this about him, and after a little over a year together, you knew the signs that he was feeling this way as well.
The four of you were currently sitting in Matt’s car in a random parking lot, filming a car video. You opted to sit in the back and mostly listen with an amused look. After all, this was the triplets video, not yours. They hadn’t really planned a topic for today either, which ever bubbly Chris took to his advantage. 
“I need to pee,” he stated to no one in particular. “I got a new water bottle and so now I’ve been motivated to stay hydrated so I need to pee.”
“Why did you say water bottle like that?” Matt snorted. 
The boys continued back and forth with their bickering for a while, mostly making fun of the way Chris had said the word. You simply sat and laughed, enjoying all the weird conversations that came up, that is until Nick harshly interrupted Chris. 
“Do you ever shut up?” he asked. “Like genuinely, do you ever shut your mouth?”
“I do sometimes.” Chris protested. 
“Nuh uh,” Matt interjected. “You couldn’t go five minutes without talking. I bet on it. You’re one of those people on the list Nick was talking about. The one who could benefit from being quiet.”
“Fine. Time starts now.” Chris ‘locked’ his lips and pretended to throw away the key. 
You knew he was just going along with the video, but you could tell by the slump of your boyfriend’s shoulders and the way he had his forehead resting against the cool window that the comments had hurt him more than he let on. Nick and Matt continued to talk for a few minutes, before landing on a topic that immediately sparked Chris’s mind. He quickly decided to speak up, forgetting about their ‘challenge’. 
“You can’t do it,” Matt laughed, a triumphant look on his face. “Chris can’t stop yapping…wait, that should be the title of this video.”
Nick laughed and fist bumped his middle triplet, but you found the joke far from funny. Chris had slowly curled into himself throughout the duration of the video, speaking less and less. He was still appearing to be smiling and having a good time, but his overall demeanor had shifted, and you could tell his brothers’ teasing was getting to him. 
“We should get home. It’s getting late…” You mumbled softly once the car had quieted down. 
Chris turned around in his seat, giving you a thankful smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Matt nodded at your statement, turning the key in the ignition and beginning the short drive back to your shared LA home. Everyone was quiet, which was a rare occurrence in this car. You would’ve thought that Matt and Nick would’ve noticed Chris’s unusual silence, but somehow they didn’t. Your boyfriend lingered to get out as his brothers clomped inside the house, laughing about a random joke. 
“You okay, hun?” You asked, climbing from the backseat to the driver’s seat, resting your hand on his arm. 
“‘M fine.” Chris mumbled, leaning his head  against the window. 
“You don’t act very fine.” You whispered gently, running your fingers through the soft, brown curls at the nape of his neck. 
“Do you think I talk too much?” Chris whispered quietly, turning towards you. 
Under the bright light of the garage, you could see unshed tears welling in his lash line, threatening to spill. That’s how you knew Chris was upset. He almost never cried, unless he was really and truly upset. 
“Honey,” You said sadly, running your thumb across his cheek. “Of course not, bubba. I love listening to you talk.”
“Well Matt and Nick sure don’t.” he huffed grumpily, but a sniffle made its way out.
“Yeah…I was going to talk to them about that, actually. They were kinda being dickheads to you tonight.” You whispered, always hating conflict between the triplets. 
“They were right,” Chris groaned, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t shut my fucking mouth and everyone thinks it’s annoying!”
“Sweetheart,” You cooed, pulling him into a hug across the console. “I don’t, and I say that with every promise in me. I love listening to you talk, Chris. Your voice is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard and I learn so much from you every day.”
“Really?” he sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek.
“Really, hun,” You smiled, softly brushing it away. “I love you.”
Chris smiled, giving you a soft peck on the lips. “You always just know, don’t you? You always know when I’m sick or tired or when something’s wrong. God, I love you.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
5
You had always loved music, ever since you were little. Something about how a simple arrangement of notes could make a person feel so many emotions captivated you. It was like a language that you didn't have to learn to understand. By the time you were eleven, you’d been playing guitar and ukulele, and that later expanded to piano and bass. Music was absolutely your therapy, and you took every opportunity you had to practice your craft. 
You were sitting on the floor of your and Chris’s shared bedroom, strumming softly on your acoustic guitar. For once, the house was quiet because the boys were out filming a video, so you took the time to practice one of the new songs you had been working on lately. Being a music major allowed you very little time for your separate projects, so you would take whatever chance you could get. 
The silence didn’t last long, though. Just as you were playing an Em chord, Chris burst into the room, flopping on the bed. “Hey mamas, how was your day?”
You playfully rolled your eyes, but continued to strum your guitar. “It was wonderful…until I was so rudely interrupted.”
“You know you love me,” Chris teased, rolling onto his stomach and propping his chin in his hands. “Play me a song.”
“God, you are so demanding,” You chuckled. “What’s next? An autograph?”
“Mhm. On my boobs.” Your boyfriend smiled.
You shook your head with a laugh, throwing a guitar pick at him. “You’re insane.”
You didn’t waste any more in Chris’s antics, though. You fulfilled your boyfriend’s request, quietly beginning to play Falling like the Stars and singing along. Chris said nothing more, cherishing the sound of your voice. He loved hearing you sing and play guitar. It soothed him, allowing him to see the passionate parts of you that only came out in your music. He wished that he could do the things that you did, but he had just never taken the time to learn an instrument. 
You looked up at your boyfriend on the bed after you finished the song, smiling softly. You watched Chris for a moment, observing his body language and the way he was looking at you. “Do you…want to learn?” You asked him quietly, a blush dotting your cheeks.
“You’d teach me?” Chris’s cheeks and ears grew pink as he looked at you shyly. 
“I’d love to.” You nodded with a smile. 
Your boyfriend clambered off the bed, sitting down next to you on the rug. You softly began to explain the different parts of an acoustic guitar and how to hold it, before moving onto chords and strumming. Chris had always been a fast learner when he put effort in, and right now was no different. Within the hour, he was already playing slow, soft songs. The chords were still vibrating and it took him quite a while to change them, but it was a song nonetheless. 
“I’m not as good at it as you are.” he pouted after a moment, setting your guitar aside gently. 
“Well I have been playing for ten years, bub.” You chuckled gently, kissing his face. 
Chris wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him and kissing you back deeply. He loved you with all his heart, and you taking the time out of your day to share your passions with him only made him love you more. As the kiss grew heavier, Chris fell back onto the floor, still holding you as he giggled. 
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to play guitar, you know that?” he asked, pecking your forehead. 
“I could tell.” You smiled. 
“You always can.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
+1
“It’s such a nice day out today.” You hummed, soaking in the sun as you laid on your towel. 
Chris fidgeted beside you anxiously, but made an acknowledgement towards you statement so as to ‘throw you off his scent’. He had been planning this surprise for months now and he was currently using every muscle in his body to keep his mouth shut so as not to spoil it.
You two were basking in the sun on the beach in Santa Barbara, towels laid out. You had noticed Chris had been unusually quiet all day, but didn’t really think much of it. The beach usually kept him in his own little world, too distracted by the roar of the ocean and the sand between his feet to notice anyone else. You both had always loved the beach, and moving to the LA area after living in Boston your whole life had been a welcomed change. You practically went to the beach every weekend, but today Chris had led you to a new spot he had found. It was rather secluded, but you loved it all the same. It made things more intimate between the two of you. 
“You’re quiet today,” You said after a while, rolling over and propping yourself up on your shoulder. You looked Chris over from head-to-toe, admiring the tiny features about him like the way his curls had grown more pronounced with the salt air and the birthmark on his back. “Beach getting you relaxed?”
“I, uh, yeah. You could say that,” Your boyfriend tried to smile sheepishly, looking you over. Your lavender bikini hugged you just right, making him even more nervous. If he fucked this up while you looked so gorgeous, he would never forgive himself. “Wanna take a walk?”
You smiled, sitting up quickly and beginning to gather your towel. “Sure!”
“No!” Chris said a bit too hastily. “I mean, you don’t need to bring your towel…I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“You can’t just leave your stuff on the beach, Chris.” You giggled. 
“It’s not like anyone’s gonna steal it. Just–trust me, please?” he asked, giving you those blue puppy eyes you could never resist. 
“I guess so,” you fake huffed, taking his hand in your own. “C’mon, let’s walk before the sun sets on us, silly.”
Chris smiled, taking your hand in his own and starting the trek down the beach. The ocean was calling him as you two strolled westward towards the sunset, but that would have to wait. At least until he had finished his plan. The silence between you was comfortable like always, but this time it thrummed with passionate energy. Chris was pretty sure you had no idea what he was  planning, but then again, you knew him like the back of your hand.
“This beach is so quiet. It’s nice when it’s just us,” You smiled. “How did you find this place?”
“Oh, y’know, doing what I do best. Poking around.” Your boyfriend laughed nervously as you came to a beautiful expanse of rock along the beach. 
You immediately ran towards the beauty, smiling up at the wonder of nature. “This is gorgeous.”
Chris took the opportunity of you having your back turned to feel in the pocket of his swim trunks for the tiny box that he had been hiding from you for over a month now. He would admit that he had definitely had a bit of a struggle keeping the secret from you, but it was worth it to see you now, on this gorgeous beach, looking even more beautiful than the view around you. The brunette turned his head to where Nick was hiding out of sight, holding his camera. As much as he wanted the two of you to be alone for this, he wanted the pictures infinitely more. He couldn’t wait to tell his kids about what would be the best day of his life one day, that is, if you said yes. 
He took a deep breath, pulling the box out of his pocket and then tapping you on the shoulder. “I have a question for you, ma.”
By the time you had turned around, Chris was on one knew, holding a tiny, velvet box that held a gorgeous, heart-shaped, diamond ring. “Oh my god…” You whispered, hand flying to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes.
“You are my best friend, baby. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you that day in ninth grade algebra class. Finding out you felt the same way about me was probably the best day of my life. You always listen to every crazy, stupid, and dumb idea I have and I love you for it. You know me better than I know myself. I love loving you; you are my first, last, and only love. Will you marry me, Y/N?”
“Oh my god, yes!” You squealed, throwing yourself into his arms as Chris slid the ring onto your finger.
Chris sniffled as he spun you around, hugging you tightly and kissing you. “This is why I’ve been acting weird today,” he chuckled and blushed. “I was worried you’d find out. You know literally everything.”
“Not everything,” You smiled, showing him the diamond. “You kept the secret so well. Who all knows?”
“Well,” Chris admitted shyly as Nick stepped out from his hiding spot. “Nick knows, obviously, because I needed his help capturing the moment. Matt knows too. Other than that, no one else.”
“You’re amazing, Chris,” You whispered, kissing him again. “I’ve wanted to marry you since I was fifteen years old, you know that?”
“I love you so much, ma. Always have and always will.” 
As Nick continued to snap photos of the two of you in front of the sunset on the beach, you couldn’t help but to feel your heart swell. You hadn’t known what was going on with Chris this time, but for once, you didn’t even mind. 
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tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @idek3000hi @runasvengence
note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3
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naturesapphic · 3 months
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Pretty please could you do one with billie getting asked who birds of a feather is about and she answers by saying it's about her girlfriend reader etc... (kinda like the one you did with lunch but just a more tame/fluffy version)
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Birds of a Feather interview
Billie eilish x fem!reader
Warnings: pure fluff :)
“Who did you write birds of a feather about?” A fan asked excitedly along with everyone who was desperately waiting for Billie to answer. “Oooh! That’s a good one! Thank you for asking babes!” Billie said to the fan and they squealed quietly as they sat back down and waited for Billie to answer. You were in the next room over watching your girlfriend along with her family and Zoe who was by you.
“I wrote birds of a feather for my amazing, talented, beautiful, sexy, smart girlfriend y/n! Which was so weird for me since I don’t usually write lovey dovey songs but I knew I wanted to make one I mean…y/n is my muse and my inspiration for almost anything and I really felt like I needed to write this song and I did and i absolutely love it so much.” Billie gushed out and you felt your cheeks and whole body heat up at her words.
“Y/n is the first ever relationship I had with a girl. So she was pretty much my first everything that you experience while being with a woman and I’m so grateful that it’s with her. She’s my heart and my everything. We are truly meant to stick together.” She said and at the end of her sentence she looked over and winked at me making everyone cheer and aw at us.
It was after Billie’s interview when Billie came jogging over to you and lifting you up in her arms, making you squeal in delight. She spun you around a couple of times and placed you back down on your feet. “Hi babygirl.” She said as she looked down at you with so much love in her eyes. You felt yourself blush and you look down at the floor shyly. Billie lifted your head up with her fingers under your chin to look at her causing you to blush even more.
She leaned down and captured your lips with hers as your arms flew around her neck and her other hand went down around your waist, pulling you closer to her as she could. You were the first to pull away which made Billie pout, making you giggle. “I love you baby but you have another interview in a few minutes.” You said as you two began walking, following behind Maggie, Billie’s managers, and security guards.
Billie still had a big pout on her face as y’all walked towards her next interview. “I promise when you get done with this one, I’ll give you as many kisses as you want okay baby?” You reasoned with her and she accepted, a big smile on her face causing you to smile. “Oh and what you said up there was really fucking cute I forgot to mention to you.” You said to her and she smirked.
“Oh I know princess. I could see you blushing a mile away.” She said teasingly which made you groan and hide your face in your hands to hide your blushing from her. Billie let out a cackle and removed your hands from your face and started leaving kisses all over your face making you giggle loudly. She pulled away when she heard Maggie calling her to get on the stage for the next interview. “I love you y/n.” Billie said as she gave you one final kiss on your lips and went up the stage waving to everyone with a huge smile on her lips.
You sighed happily as you watched your girlfriend answer more questions about the album and some about you. “I love you too billie.” You say under your breath as you waited for the interview to be over so Billie will be in your arms once again.
A/n: sorry this was one so short but I hope the anon and the rest of y’all enjoyed it! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)
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tranquilpetrichor · 2 months
Text
lesson learned
synopsis: in which a tutoring session turns out to be much more in disguise.
cast: tutor!gunwook x fem!reader ft. gyuvin and ricky (briefly)
genre: high school!au, f2l
wc: 2.2k (2225)
warnings: suggestive, making out, yn’s outfit has a skirt, gunwook kisses yn on neck, they call each other "cute" and "hot, they r nerds, please don’t do this in a study room, barely proofread and edited help
a/n: i swear why is finishing stuff so hard, this could be so much better but i'm happy i managed to finish it. also it's kinda hard not writing from y/n's perspective but it shre is interesting. i wanna make longer fics lol but for now enjoy this bc i love writing about nerds and especially ones who are down bad.
be sure to reblog and like to support your creators!
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bright sunlight filtered in through the windows of the empty study room as park gunwook typed away on his laptop, trying to get homework done quickly.
outside, some students were walking across campus, birds were flying freely, and there were a distinct lack of clouds in the sky.
he would probably be there too, but he was supposed to be tutoring you soon. as boredom was slowly starting to set in, he double-checked the time. it was one minute after your appointment was set to begin.
odd. you weren’t usually late to anything.
before he could ponder it further, you walked into the room, sighed and put your stuff beside him, apologizing for being late. “i was talking to another professor about something, and i didn’t expect it to take that long. my bad…”
something seemed a bit different about you, but he wasn’t sure why. he shrugged the thought off and chuckled quietly.
“it’s no problem, y/n. one minute is nothing. do you prefer the curtains open or closed?”
you waved a hand at the window. “let’s close them.”
he got up and pressed a button on the light switch panel near the doorway, and the curtains automatically came down. this private school sure spent money on interesting things, but at least they were occasionally useful.
cute outfit, he thought.
was that a new pair of boots? it paired nicely with the skirt you were wearing. you managed to look hot and adorable at the same time.
how unprofessional to be distracted by your appearance—he frowned.
snap out of it. it’s time to do math, not stare like an idiot.
luckily, you didn’t say anything, even though he swore he saw a tiny smirk on your face, which you quickly removed in favor of a more neutral expression.
that was weird, he thought as you got your tablet out—the one you liked to take notes on during the calculus class you two had together.
he wasn’t sure of your exact grade in the class, but he heard it was quite high. you were smart, but didn’t seem to have problems asking for help if you needed it. in his opinion, that was pretty admirable.
gunwook noticed that if you did need help, you’d go to the teacher or try and talk to him. the two of you exchanged numbers eventually, texting each other for study sessions.
he loved being able to talk to you more, slowly learning little things about you—like how you wore a certain necklace on big days for luck, that your go-to snack was nuts (he couldn’t help but think of you as a squirrel after that), and that you had a dog named citrus.
he got the feeling that you weren’t the biggest on socializing with many people, preferring to only keep compaany with a few friends. he’s mutual friends with a few of them, like jungwon.
it was refreshing compared to his large friend group (although he loved them) and the many people who were merely interested in him for his looks.
of course, he wouldn’t mind if you were interested in his looks, but hopefully you also liked something beyond that.
you probably did—who else would end up chatting about precious stones or logical fallacies with him? he loved seeing you excited and passionate.
god, his face was probably going to be red if he kept this up.
“i see you said you wanted to look at stuff from the last lecture when you were booking the session,” he said, trying to banish certain thoughts from his head. “series can be difficult, so i get it.”
you nodded, offering him a sweet smile. “yeah, i just wanna go over a few of the divergence and convergence problems on the first practice problem set. i have the problems listed here.”
you pushed your tablet in his direction, and he picked it up.
he glanced at your solution for the first one, nearly written. “i mean, it looks like you applied the test correctly. just to make sure, how did you know to use that one?”
you didn’t hesitate to answer.
“given series is a p-series where p is equal to three. p is greater than three, so the series will converge.”
as expected, you kept up with his questioning. of course you probably knew what a damn p-series is. he’d just wanted to hear your voice some more.
speaking of voices, maintaining a professional tone with you was a miracle. gunwook’s composure and eloquence were paramount to getting him through student council meetings, debates and tutoring sessions, but those skills seemed to want a temporary vacation.
“do you want to move onto the next one?” he said, defaulting to his standard tutor voice.
“mhm. i remember our teacher said there was more than one way to do it. i never tried to figure out the other ways, but now i’m curious.”
gunwook flipped to a certain page in his notebook. “do you want me to show you how i did it? it’s definitely a different method, but we got the same answer.”
you shrugged. “sure. take your time.”
you were twirling your stylus pen in your hands and swiftly tucked it atop your ear. fuck, did you not know how cute you looked? your hair was neatly parted near the middle right now, but he wondered what it’d be like to see you disheveled. at this point, he might be thinking with something other than his brain.
you spent another few minutes talking with him, bringing his memory back to previous tutoring sessions. he remembered you said once that having to justify your reasoning on a topic was one of the best ways to deepen understanding, and that he was skilled at identifying the holes in your arguments.
“that’s why i would hate to lose a debate against you,” you had admitted. “it’s always more fun when we can work together.”
the offhanded comment could’ve had another meeting. as an friend, gunwook couldn’t quite discern your intentions, though. whether you just wanted him at arms length or in your arms was just another guessing game he played.
he was aware that the balance of power was always shifting between you two, but at the end of the day, you two were pretty much equals intellectually, keeping things in equilibrium. however, his underlying feelings of attraction threatened to ruin the balance.
as the session continued, you had a satisfied smile. you asked him about unrelated math proofs and got him off track. why did you want to discuss all this when your sessions were usually more focused? something was definitely off.
“well, that was actually everything i wanted to ask about,” you said to him suddenly, packing up swiftly. “i was just going to go if you don’t have anything else.”
he frowned.
no, please don’t.
what was wrong with him?
“unless, you wanted me to stay..” you continued, a smirk on your face. your laptop was closed and all of your study materials were neatly filed away.
you were definitely teasing him, and it was working, your behavior making him somewhat flustered. there was no turning back if he let himself escalate things right now. he could just let you leave—that’s what rational gunwook would do.
fuck it. rational gunwook was not in the room right now.
he reached out and grasped your arm. “and if i did?”
you smirked and stepped towards him. “then i’ll make sure you don’t regret your choice.”
with that, you pressed your lips to his, surprising him. gunwook quickly recovered, his arm snaking around your waist, pulling you in more.
no wonder you booked the session for an hour and a half.
if anyone opens this door, i’m definitely getting kicked out as a tutor. at least these walls are pretty soundproof.
he pulled away for a bit to catch his breath. "wow, did you come here just to kiss me?”
you laughed, gazing at his eyes. "it wasn't only for that, although i'd be happy to do it again. let me clarify. i have feelings for you.”
you continued. “i’ve honestly thought about it. you’re hardworking, and not just in the classroom. when i see you practicing or studying, you dedicate yourself fully, and it inspires me to do the same. you're kind, even to people who don't deserve it. on top of that, you’ve always been a good person to talk to about anything and everything. i trust you.”
“oh, and i guess you’re cute. and hot.”
you added the last part with a small smile. after each reason, he found himself surprised by your sincere words.
gunwook groaned. “y/n, you have no idea how down bad i am. i don't even remember exactly when it started, but what i do know is that i met someone interesting, someone who challenges me and jokes with me. someone who's beautiful in every way. i'm so fucking into you."
he paused, before deciding to tease you a little. "i have a question about one thing, though. you ‘guess’ i’m cute?”
“well, did you want me to say for a fact that you’re cute?” you asked.
he pouted slightly. “would have been better.”
“fine,” you said, taking his hand. “it is an undisputed fact that you’re cute.”
“thank you.”
"and hot."
"i guess so..." you rolled your eyes, an amused grin on your face. “now can we get back to kissing?”
“i was acually trying to be professional, even though i had feelings for you too,” he whispered against your ear. “but since you insist, i’ll give you what you want.”
not wanting to rush despite his boyish excitement, he leaned down and slowly began to kiss you again, running one of his hands gently through your hair. you closed your eyes.
“want you to take control, gunwook,” you said, your breath hot against his skin and your arms wrapping around his neck.
how could he say no? he was so screwed whenever it came to you. wasting no time, he brought your hips closer to his, enjoying the proximity.
he’d never seen you like this, so blissful and carefree. all he wanted to do in this moment was to make sure you kept feeling that way.
he got a small idea.
“hold on, i’m going to lift you,” he said, and you tightened your hold on him, lifting your legs so that they wrapped around his waist. you looked like a koala, hanging on so protectively to him like he was a branch.
you let out a tiny laugh of glee—it was the cutest thing he’s ever heard.
he moved over to a chair, and carefully sat down with you in his arms. your skirt was spread across your lap, contributing to the newfound messiness of your appearance, and your legs dangled off both sides of the chair.
“let me know if you don’t like something,” he said in between kisses. “the last thing i want to do is pressure you.”
“of course,” you responded, squeezing his shoulders reassuringly.
as a surge of newfound confidence rushed through him, his kisses became more intense, trailing down to your collarbone. you tilted your neck slightly to allow him more access to the area.
shit, he was probably the luckiest guy alive right now.
“so beautiful,” he murmured, tracing your chin with one of his hands, “and you’re mine.”
damn, calm down now.
“wow, for someone who’s so sweet, you sure do have a possessive side.”
he winced. “is it too much?”
you laughed and smiled playfully. “not at all. i find it hot.”
that sentence alone sent a warmth through his body.
“that’s good to know,” he replied with a smirk. he was definitely going to do that more often.
soon, his lips found yours again, like a moth to a flame. damn, he could spend all day doing this (if they had no risk of getting caught).
in his pocket, his phone buzzed, and he sighed, looking at the notification.
gyuvin: r u coming to get ice cream with me and ricky? u said ur tutoring thing with ur gf ends at 4:00
the time was 3:44 pm. wow, were they really at it for that long?
gunwook smiled. gyuvin had texted “gf” as a joke, but little did the poor guy know.
“is it something important?” you asked, still on his lap.
he shut off the phone, looking back at you. “it’s gyuvin. during lunch, me, him and ricky made last minute plans to get ice cream—they’re asking me if i still want to come. i should get going soon.”
of course, his feet didn’t want to move.
you looked intrigued. “do they mind a plus one?”
yeah, they're going to tease me the entire time.
“i’ll ask,” he responded, face somewhat warm from embarrassment. "but one of these days, i’ll take you out on a proper date, just us two. you deserve it.”
your eyes lit up, and you smiled. “i’ll hold you to it, gunwook.”
his phone buzzed again.
gyuvin: yea sure bring her, we support
gyuvin: besides i have ricky he's gonna be my bf now
"they said yes," gunwook said, laughing silently at gyuvin's last message. "let's go in 5 minutes?"
you reciprocated, resting your head gently on his shoulder. "any longer and i don't think i could leave."
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ravenlilyrose · 2 months
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Slightly cryptid Batman idea:
(Not familiar enough with costume evolutions to know how canonical this is, but if DC can mess with the timeline as much as they did with the New52, I can tweak costumes.)
Anyway, Batman here is still human (mostly) but Gotham got to him and now he’s a little… feral? Inhuman? Weird?
Bruce was a rich only child so he’s always been a little possessive, but he was also raised by Alfred, so he doesn’t show it a whole lot and it’s not very bad.
Until Gotham gets to him.
And with most things he’s the same as he’s ever been. But with his Robins? His birds? His babies? That man is now some kind of weird mix of dragon and cat and bear.
They are his and he loves them so so so so so so much, even if he would never use those words. Something deep inside him kinda wants to just gather them all into his cave and never let them out of his sight, but he knows they’d all hate that and he values their agency, so he doesn’t do that.
Instead, he makes sure that everyone knows they’re his.
As many of them as he can convince have a huge bat emblem across their chests. Robin has little bats at the hem of his cape and at his collar. All of their boots have little bat symbols on the sides. Their dominos get more and more overtly bat themed.
Every time he sees one of them with his symbol on them, something in his chest purrs. And if their wearing it in their civilian clothes? That’s even better. (Tim has a huge oversized Batman hoodie that Jason will deny until he’s blue in the face was originally his; Cass has a few sets of bat hair clips; Dick has a pair of yoga pants that are covered in garishly colored bat symbols)
He won’t trap them, he won’t control them, but he’ll mark them as his until they stop him, which none of them seem inclined to do. (A couple of them find it a little weird, but this is so much better than anything else he could be doing that they just go with it. Those whose slightly-feral-cryptid tendencies align most with Bruce’s find that it makes them feel incredibly loved.)
And that’s the story of how the bat kids all ended up covered in bats. And how the main result of Bruce becoming vaguely-a-cryptid is that his kids are covered in bats.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 months
Text
Things Are Changing (Part 14)
Previous | Masterpost | Next
Jason waited at the bar, tapping his fingers on a pint of beer he was too nervous to actually drink. Danny had gone out with the birds of prey tonight to either look after, or make a mess of, crime alley in his absence. He’d find out which one in the morning, though he trusted Danny to keep most of the Chaos under control since he loved their home almost as much as Jason did. 
He wasn’t nervous about what they were doing, he was nervous about meeting Roy again. Which was probably why he was early for the meeting, early enough to get a beer that was no longer as cold as it had been. He sighed at himself and took a sip. 
“Hey buddy,” Roy greeted, biting back a chuckle at the way Jason jumped. 
“Damn you and your light steps. You'd think after growing so much you'd make a little more noise,” Jason sighed, taking another sip from his beer before getting up and hugging Roy so tightly it made him wheeze. “It's good to see you too.”
“Damn, you got strong,” Roy gasped, patting Jason's back awkwardly. “You were such a scrawny kid too.”
“Ya,” Jason chuckled, putting Roy down again. He stepped back a little while Roy ordered a beer and glanced around for a more secluded table where they could talk a little more openly. Once Roy had his beer Jason jerked his chin towards the table, Roy nodded so Jason led the way over to it and they sat together. “It was from being malnourished as a kid, but a dunk in the pits seems to have repaired a bunch of that shit and I absolutely shot up! 
“It was kinda weird because for the first… year there I was barely conscious so when I finally came back to myself it was already to a body that was so much larger than the one I was used to. The LOA had been drilling me on techniques and shit so unconsciously I knew my new size and strength but anytime I tried to do something and thought even a little to hard about it I’d be so fucking clumsy! And you wouldn’t believe how many doorways I hit my head on before I got used to this height,” Jason chuckled, and Roy laughed along with him.
“Damn that's crazy, but also I totally get it. I was kept unconscious by Cadmus for years, when I finally got out of that fucking tube I’d lost my arm,” he held up his prosthetic, which was so good Jason had barely noticed it before. “And my muscles were so atrophied moving around felt nothing like it used to. I didn’t grow That much but it still… it was so fucking weird.” He sighed and took a bigger gulp of his beer, it clearly wasn’t easy to think about still.
“That’s fucked up,” Jason sighed, patting Roy’s shoulder. “Cadmus are a bunch of bastards. If you ever want help blowing up any of their shit let me know. I’m pretty good with explosives and guns now, and Danny would help too, and let me tell you,” Jason whistled softly and gave an almost feral grin. 
“Both you and Dick always go for the powerful ones huh?” Roy cackled, elbowing him.
“Hey! To be fair to me I didn’t know he was this powerful when we got together! I knew that he had a healing factor but that was all I knew until after we moved in together.” Jason said with a dramatic pout. 
“Still, I bet you picked up on the vibe,” He said and Jason sighed because he couldn’t refute that.
“What about you though? You said Lian’s mom is in prison now but who was she?” Jason asked, he figured it was fair game after the teasing about his own relationship, though he second guessed himself when he saw Roy sigh and slump a little.
“Cheshire,” he murmured, tracing the lip of his glass with a finger. 
“No shit!” Jason breathed, shocked but at the same… she was an interesting character, Jason knew she wasn’t all bad, and she was pretty.
“Ya, and she’s a good mom. She adores Lian, but you know how she and Artemis grew up right? They never really had a chance. I tried for years to keep her with us, but I don’t think she can get out of the life for real when she doesn’t know anything else. I can’t keep waiting for her, me and Lian, we gotta move on and make the best of things you know?”
“Ya, I get that, Do you have anyone else in your life now though? Since I’m assuming you and Cheshire aren’t really a thing anymore?” Jason asked curiously. 
“No I haven’t,” Roy said with a little shrug. “I tried at first you know? Especially since people kept saying Lian would need a mom, but dating with a kid is hard. I’d rather just focus on her then try to chase any skirt. Artemiss lives with us off and on so it’s not like Lian doesn’t have a female role model, me and Artemiss just don’t fit together. We tried to kiss one and it felt so fucking wrong! She’s like my sister.”
“I’m glad you’ve got support, and you’re doing great. If you ever need any help I can give, just let me know okay? Maybe it’s kinda sad to say since we haven’t talked in years, but you’re still my best friend.” Jason admitted, shifting awkwardly in his seat.
“Nah, it’s not that weird, you might still be my best friend too,” Roy said with a wry little smile and a shrug. “Sad… maybe, but honestly I’d say we’re both pretty fucking sad already.”
“Well, you’re not wrong, so cheers to that,” Jason laughed and they clinked their glasses together, giving each other sardonic smiles. 
They were quiet for a moment, just drinking their beers before Roy put down his drink and cleared his throat. “So, I assume Danny is your boyfriend I’ve heard so much about?” 
“Ya, that’s him. He’s been with me a long time, even before we started dating. He’s… He’s absolutely amazing Roy, I’m not sure I deserve him,” Jason sighed.
“Oh come on now, of course you do, you-” Roy started but Jason was shaking his head and biting the inside of his cheek.
“There’s a real power imbalance Roy, and you wouldn’t think so given how physically powerful he is, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters more is he worked for me before we got together, and he’s so fucking broken after everything he’s been through. And I’m not kidding Roy, what he’s been through makes what happened to both of us look like a vacation. He sees me as his saviour, he’s said multiple times that he would do anything for me and he means it. 
“Roy…” Jason bit his lip, he hadn’t admitted this to anyone, hadn’t talked about it with anyone. Suddenly he was nervous as hell someone would overhear. “Do you mind if we go back to one of my safehouses to talk about this actually?”
“Sure, you got one nearby? We almost should have started there honestly,” Roy agreed, already pushing himself away from the table. 
“Ya, probably,” Jason chuckled awkwardly, putting down some money for their drinks and following Roy out. “There’s one in walking distance.” 
Neither of them spoke again until they were inside and settled on the beat up couch. “So, what were you going to say?” Roy prompted and Jason groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. 
“I’ve had some serious anger issues since coming back, the Lazarus pit really did a number on my temper and my self control. Danny never defends himself. He’ll defend other people if he thinks I’m going overboard. But I don’t know if he has any self worth beyond what he thinks he can do for me you know? I love him, and he loves me and I love how devoted he is, but he’s almost too devoted you know?” Jason said, having thought better of actually admitting to beating Danny.
“Oh shit man, ya, that’s… complicated,” Roy said with a sympathetic frown. “I’ve never had to deal with anything like that, I don’t really know what to tell you, except I guess, encouraging him to make his own friends and shit, and try to be worth his loyalty?” 
“Ya, I’ve been trying,” Jason sighed, rubbing his face again and ruffling up his hair. “I can’t push him away, both because I love him and I don’t want to, and because he’s explicitly told me losing me would break him, like actually kill him.”
“That’s fucked up,” Roy agreed uncertainly. 
“Ya… But I mean other than that things are great. And He’s hot as hell,” Jason joked, trying to lighten the mood again after all that. It wasn’t fair to have Roy to have any actual advice, this situation was so far outside the realm of the normal.
“Ya? I believe you, the crazy ones usually are,” Roy joked back, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “But pics or it didn’t happen.”
Jason laughed and pulled out his phone, swiping through the pictures he had of Danny, and of Danny and himself. Most of the pictures on the camera were of Danny honestly, and not all of them were fully appropriate. Danny liked to feel watched during sex and the camera would do.
“Damn, he is hot,” Roy agreed with a low whistle and punched Jason’s shoulder lightly. “Good for you dude.
“I can’t wait for you to meet him, you’re going to love him I’m sure. And hey, if you do like him, we like sharing,” Jason said with a meaningful little smirk that made Roy blush and choke. Jason laughed softly at him and switched apps to text Danny he was good to come join them now when he was ready too.
----------
Danny was having fun running with the birds of Prey, they were busting up a trafficking ring Seline had found and doing a damn good job of it too he’d say! The girls were responding better to the ladies and Danny’s obviously queer self than they might have to the bats, and none of the traffickers had stood a chance against them!
Once it was done they went their separate ways, Harley and Salena wanted to make sure the girls got to a trusted shelter safely, and Ivy wasn’t really a people person so without her girlfriend there to help she left quickly too. Danny didn’t mind, he was just waiting for Jason to text him it was alright to come back, it shouldn’t be that much longer. He had already gotten a text that the visit was going well, which made him smile and eased his worry. 
He was just gazing up and the smog covered sky, considering going for a fly to see the stars when he heard a thump on the roof behind him. Danny had a bad feeling about who that was, since either of the brothers would have texted him before showing up. He sighed heavily and turned around seeing Batman looming on the other side of the rooftop. Though maybe it was Danny’s imagination that his posture was more uncertain then it had been before?
“What do you want?” Danny drawled, looking back up at the sky.
“I just want to talk,” Batman said, and Danny definitely wasn’t imagining that his voice sounded softer and less rough. “I… misjudged you at first, I couldn’t accept what Jason is capable of now and you were an easy scapegoat. I understand now that… Well, that it’s not your fault.”
“Huh,” Danny sounded, blinking in surprise and looking back at Batman consideringly. That hadn’t been what he expected. “Well, thanks I guess.”
“Constantine thinks he knows what you are.”
Danny barked a laugh and leaned back a little. “So what’s the old magician’s theory?” He asked, cocking his head to the side with a knowing little smirk. 
“He says you're a halfa, the first one in thousands of years,” Batman shared, and Danny froze for a moment. 
“Huh, I hadn’t expected him to get it right,” He sighed sitting down on the edge of the roof and propped his elbows on his knees. 
After a moment of hesitation Batman came closer and sat down next to Danny, still out of arm's reach, which he appreciated. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, truly. And I’m sorry about what my colleagues said, whether the beings of the Infinite Realms are threats or not, it was an incredibly inappropriate response.”  
“If you just came to apologize, then apology accepted, and you can go now,” Danny said, giving Bruce a suspicious look. 
“No, that’s not all,” Bruce said, steepling his fingers and leaning forward on his knees. “Constantine told me that according to legends Halfas were creatures of balance, guardians of sorts. Do you have any way to learn about your… cultural heritage?” 
“Some of the ancients lived when halfas were still around. Frostbite and Clockwork have told me some. I’m still very young, I’ve been dead less than 6 years-” He noticed Batman wince slightly but ignored it- “It’ll take me a long time to grow into whatever it is I’m supposed to be.  Don’t you hold your breath when I do though. Balance and Justice aren't the same things after all. If I do ascend I’ll be fighting against you as often as I’m on your side I expect,” he chuckled.
“Right,” Bruce sighed. The disappointment in his voice made Danny cackle, though he muffled it with a hand since Batman was playing nice. “Well, the Justice League have a few supernatural consultants on call if you need to talk to someone. And if you need any help, really, let me know.” He stood up and held out a card. “Not that you need it with how close you are with both my-... All of my sons, but if you need any help. Call me. Being alone isn’t easy.”
“I absolutely won’t, but thank you,” Danny said, but after a moment of hesitation he slid the card into one of his pants pockets. Batman seemed satisfied with that, nodded to him. “And I’m not alone, I have Jason.” 
Batman froze for a moment, looking at Danny with wide eyes before Danny realized how that had sounded. He shook his head with a laugh. “No, Jason isn’t a halfa. His resurrection was under completely different circumstances! He’s got a bit of the Realms in him, but it doesn’t flow through him like it does me. He’s still, like, 85% human.”
“That… That’s good,” Batman sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.
“Did you have any more questions?” Danny prompted, cocking his head. 
“You offered help with any Realms beings. Do you expect we’ll have any trouble?” Batman asked, cocking his head a little. 
“Maybe,” Danny said with a little shrug. “It depends if the GIW still has an active portal somewhere, and how good their security is on it. Must be better than my parents used to be or we’d already be up to our eyeballs in confused ghosts, but it’s always a possibility.” He noticed the considering look Batman was giving him and gave a crackling laugh; “I haven’t been back to the realms in years. If anything’s going on there I don’t know about it. Though I’m sure Clockwork knows where I am if they really need me.” 
“Right, thank you for the offer,” Batman sighed and stood up. “And just think about my offer alright? If you need help, or protection, call. Not just from the GIW.”
Batman hesitated, opened his mouth to say something else and then sighed and shook his head. Whatever it was he seemed to have thought better of it as he turned away with a swish of his cape and grappled away. Dramatic bastard. 
Danny chuckled and shook his head at the older hero’s behaviour and pulled his phone out again. He had a text from Jason, telling him which safe house he and Roy were hanging out at and that he should come. And maybe… if he wanted to, to bring lube and the three of them could have some fun. 
Danny grinned sharply and licked his lips beneath his muzzle, well he’d just swing by their nest on the way over then! He texted Jason he would be there soon, and asked if they’d need condoms too.
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dogwithrabies · 4 months
Text
【★】 gn reader but described as afab, kinda mean scara, reader is a masochist lol
【☆】 ignoring the fact that i disappeared for like 8 months, hi, new thingy (reup)
word count: 4.3k
There’s no coming back from those offices. Everyone knows that, it’s like an open secret between the ranks of the fatui.
One gets called in for a “little chat” and then just disappears, there are no deserters allowed in an organization like this. Too many secrets.
The lower ranking soldiers always gossip about whoever the next one is gonna be, it keeps everyone on edge, just one measly mistake in front of a general, or worse, a harbinger and it’s over. It doesn’t help that other privates will often turn on eachother, reporting their comrade’s mistakes to get on their supervisor’s good side, in a sense, the fatui has eyes everywhere.
Your days of walking on eggshells are long over, thank the Tstaritsa, but it doesn’t mean you’re completely safe either. Being a general yourself, you’ve been faced with many hard decisions, sometimes covering up the mistakes of a soldier, sending back touched up reports hoping no supervisor will notice any discrepancy.
“Your empathy will come back to bite you in the ass”.
It’s a sentence the Balladeer threw your way once, it wasn't advice out of the goodness of his (non-existent) heart. Matter of fact, he didn’t even spare you a glance before walking past you, on his way to scold another soldier. How stupid, he must've thought, sharing your already scarce meal with a tiny bird that sought refuge under the shadow of your feet.
But you just can’t help it. In your early days you could only pray someone spared you the same kindness you give out now.
But that was a long time ago. You went on many other expeditions in the Balladeer’s team, somehow always managing not to fess up and prove yourself worthy of your role. It was a noteworthy achievement, after all his bad temper was notorious to anyone who spent even a few minutes in his presence.
The Balladeer does not go out of his way to compliment anyone, flattery is not his style. Just the absence of any reprimand is more than enough to tell you you’re doing good.
However, that does not stop you from wasting time fantasizing about such scenarios.
“You’re doing good.” What a dream it would be to hear that. “You’re being good.”
But the image you have of him in your mind is a far-fetched, rose-tinted version of the one in front of you now. You’re not as stupid as to warp his essence into anything even remotely kind. You know of his temperament, sometimes you’d even go as far as to think he’s not even human.
During an expedition, he slapped a soldier once. It was late in the evening and some soldiers decided to let out some steam with a few drinks. It just so happened that one of them got a little too… feisty.
But the Balladeer did not let go of his face. He just kind of stared at the red mark his hand left, squishing the fat of his cheeks in some weird torturous ritual, moving the skin around to admire the shape of the coagulated blood under his skin. He was so close he could feel the shaky breaths of the poor guy fanning on his face.
He relented only once he was satisfied. He enjoys the fear in people’s faces. No, fear is just an expression, it’s the pure terror that spreads in someone’s whole body that excites him.
He can tell the exact moment when someone switches from being scared to dreading losing their life.
It’s something you’ve seen several times yourself, never hesitate, to end someone’s life. Hesitation makes you waver, staring at someone’s eyes makes you acknowledge that they’re scared, they’re human.
He never wavers. Hm. He’s either incredibly cruel… or just above your kind? You take a mental note of that.
The first thought excites you, that tiny familiar buzzing feeling running down your spine.
It’s so unfair.
No, that’s not right, you quickly shake that thought off. Who would ever dream of being at the receiving end of the Balladeer’s ire?
It’s not the first time you find yourself spiraling that same line of thought. But he’s just so pretty.
You suppose that in order to make it out alive of his squadron one needs to grow tough skin, tolerating his humiliation tactics and aggressions. You just never thought you’d develop a liking to that.
How the mighty have fallen. You used to be so respectable.
You can’t even begin to picture his disgusted expression if he found out that deep down, a part of you hoped he would lay his hand on you.
Or if he knew how many sleepless nights you spent rubbing your thighs together, trying to get rid of a heat that just wouldn’t go away.
Or, additionally, if he knew that the first thing you did in your new private (perks of being promoted) room was to disregard your clothes and immediately push your fingers in your aching needy cunt. Thinking of him.
How absolutely shameful. You wonder if your stay in the fatui awakened something in you. Or maybe you were always like this.
But you’re always so composed. And your fatui mask covers any blushing on your face;
No one would be able to detect your attraction to him based on your behavior.
After all, it was very common to hear creaking sounds at night. That’s just what happens when you force young adults in a shared room together. People just turn the other way. Ignore the sound and go to sleep.
You feel yourself getting warmer at the sight of him walking towards your squadron.
It’s another of those annoying training sessions, you don’t have to participate, just surveil the cadets. It doesn’t fall within your assignments, it’s your Lord Balladeer’s job, but he so kindly sacked you his responsibilities. After all, he’s above watching insignificant men stumble in knee high snow.
But you’re just so distracted.
He’s sitting on a chair with a tiny table in front of him, quickly skimming through huge piles of paper. The huge fur of his coat shields his face from your view (a shame, he looks so cute when concentrating), but he’s not covering anything else. His tiny shorts slightly hike up his legs as he shifts to put one leg over the other, revealing even more skin.
Just how is he not getting cold?
You huff, your breath crystalizing in front of you, forming a tiny mist as if proving your point.
It’s freezing. And he’s out there with his usual attire. Not that you’re complaining, you always had a thing for his legs. Always looking at the way they crease and shift on his thighs every time he crouches to look at something. You always watch him with such an intense gaze.
It’s not weird. It is your job to ensure his safety after all.
Not that he needs it. You’ve seen him in combat, not many enemies survive after the first shock of electro.
It’s scary. It’s exciting.
He also uses it to correct small mistakes. He’s shocked you once after you almost tripped while serving him tea.
It was tiny and barely audible but your finger spasmed in an uncomfortable position, and then it was over.
He let out a humorous hum at your shocked expression, then quickly dismissed you.
You spent the rest of the day thinking about that small encounter.
Thinking about all the other ways he could use his shocks on you. Maybe they could simulate the effects of a vibrator (just a slightly painful one). You’re not allowed to bring anything with you when you join the fatui. And using your hands or humping your pillow always leaves you yearning for more.
So lost in thought. You didn’t even notice the way he was staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Not anger, not disappointment, something more akin to… disbelief.
He knew you would cover up your underling’s mistakes sometimes, he couldn’t be bothered to call you out on that. But to let so many incompetent cadets trip on the same wall, face-planting on the snow and mud without even taking note of that? Right in front of him?
Were you hoping he was too busy with his papers to not notice that, or are not even paying attention?
Your tendency to sometimes space out is something he was very aware of. But you never actively slacked off on your tasks. This is new, not unexpected but new. You were bound to disappoint him, after all, it is in your nature as a human. He needs to stop this before it becomes a habit and gets in the way of his work.
He quickly calls some other general to take your place. You barely register when he calls your name. His voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up in shivers.
“Come.” He firmly says before walking off the training grounds.
You hesitate for a second, your eyes focusing back on the view in front of you. Your lord wants a word with you? Just how deep in thought were you to not even notice him staring holes in your back? It can’t be any good.
You follow after him, catching up with him and watching the back of his coat sway with each step.
The inside of the palace is just as cold as the outside. The only relief a fatuus gets is the mercy of being shielded from the icy winds. It’s only when you set foot inside his office that you finally let yourself breathe.
The whole walk to his private office is full of agonizing spiraling thoughts. Surely this isn’t one of those “little chats”, right? The soldiers guarding the door don’t even spare the two of you a glance, their masks covering your expression, but you’re sure they pity you in some way.
The Balladeer is not known for his kindness, but even through his hate filled vision of humanity, he knows the intrinsic need of every being for validation. Not that he’s going to give them any, he has no interest in building any amicable relations in this organization, lest it serves him to reach his goals the future. But it would also be very troublesome to replace even more of his subordinates. Were he in an altered mood he would’ve just electrocuted on the spot.
Recognizing when one of his useless soldiers actually has a shred of potential is not something he’s very keen on doing, but the alternative is to put up with more incompetent fools, and that’s not on his agenda.
He sits on his chair, moving papers around on his desk. You watch him as he smacks his lips and lets out a silent huff as he finally rearranges the papers to his liking.
You’re shacking, he attributes it to the cold. Humans have always been so much weaker and more vulnerable than him. His skin is cold, glacially cold, but it’s not a feeling he registers.
Even his coat is just for show.
Your cheeks are red, but it’s (at least partially) not from the cold. Now that his coat is off you get a full view of his face. His dashing red liner perfectly contours his eyes, giving them a sharp intense look. He begins talking to you, his voice is calm and smooth, at least he’s not mad at you.
It’s about your zoning off.
It’s not something you do on purpose, but it’s just so hard to focus when you're so damn horny.
Frankly, you’re more surprised he didn’t just slap you on the spot, not that you would’ve minded. Maybe your Lord is showing you his mercy? The thought of him showing you any form of kindness makes heat slowly creep up your face. The cold slowly leaves your body as warmth replaces it, the overwhelming feeling leaving you to fiddle with the hem of your clothing.
“My deepest apologies, it will never happen again, my Lord”.
This is to be expected, addressing him with the right honorifics and apologizing is the correct (and preferred) outcome. He blinks slowly, at least he saved himself a migraine.
What he doesn’t expect is to not see you when he opens his eyes. He didn’t dismiss you. He gets up from his chair but stops when he finally spots you, on your knees with your forehead touching the ground.
“I want to make it up to you, my Lord”, you say, still not moving from your position.
This. This he likes. Usually, he’s the one forcing his subordinates to kneel in front of him, and not in a kind way either. Pressing their face on whatever unfortunate surface they were standing on, purposefully applying more pressure than needed, hoping his boots would leave a heavy mark on their face. Sometimes they would do it out of their own volition, but it doesn’t stem from an urgent need to show him their worship, it was out of fear.
“Hm.” He makes his way to the couch on the side of his desk and sits crosslegged. “Come here,”
But he interrupts you before you can push yourself on your feet- “No, stay like that.
It takes you a second to process that he wants you to crawl your way to him. You awkwardly move your body, trying not to trip on your own coat before settling in front of him.
He puts his hand on your cheeks, lightly squishing them before raising his fingers and taking your mask off, leaving your expression bare before him. It’s no different than any other fatuus mask, but he slowly examines it regardless.
“Go on, show me your devotion, (Name),” he says, shifting so his knees are on each side
Just the fact that he knows your name makes you shudder. You’re not sure of what exactly he wants from you, but you’re already in a bizarre enough situation, so you decide to follow your instincts.
You slowly wrap your hand around his boot, raising it until you can comfortably lower your face, letting your lips come in contact with it. His eyes widen for a moment, as you continue rubbing your face on the side of his boot. Their surface is clean, that bit of snow remaining gets smothered on your skin, melting away.
“Hah”, moving to other boot, you repeat the same motion “At least you know where you belong.”
His voice has a layer of malice to it, like he’s elated by this outcome. Your hand comes in contact with his skin, it’s so cold, like touching freshly piled snow. Opting to rub his legs in a meek attempt at warming them up, you press your lips to his knee, savoring the moment.
Any other person would feel humiliated in this situation, worshipping at your Lord’s feet, but this, it’s like a dream come true to you. Being so close to the object of your attraction makes your head go spinning. It feels unreal just being able to lay your hands on them. You shouldn't press your luck. but it’s so tempting to just reach over and grope him all over.
He would probably kill you.
Maybe.
Perhaps if you’re slow and methodical about it you can manage to get a tiny bit closer to his thighs. Masking your need as devotion.
You place your lips just above his knee, your hands moving under it, rubbing at the soft skin. He’s also curious about how far you’re willing to push yourself. He’s no fool, he knows you’re scared of crossing a line you’re not even aware of. He could be kind and point you in the right direction, but watching you struggle to restrain yourself while mindlessly mouthing at his skin is a show too good to pass on.
Eventually, he widens his legs, just enough to allow you to sit deeper in between them. This new position allows you to reach further. It stuns you for a moment, hesitantly putting your hands on his thighs, looking at his face for any sign of vexation. When you don’t find any, you deem it safe to push further, lowering your face to latch your mouth on the exposed skin. Leaving a slightly wet trail everywhere you go.
He’s let you get this far, and if the way he moves his legs giving you even more access is any indicator of his enjoyment, it encourages you to try your luck.
Your hand slips under his shorts, slowly pushing them up. You lock eyes, and for a second you fear you’ve overstayed your welcome, luckily that’s not the case.
“No markings.” His hand now rests on your head, slowly moving your hair out of your face.
Would it even be possible to leave marks? His skin shows no imperfections and it’s so smooth it makes you want to lose yourself in it. But it also feels… tougher? While rubbing it with your hands, it felt robust, like if you sunk your teeth in it it wouldn’t break even the upper layer. Maybe just leave a mark. A sign you were there.
But now is not the time to get lost in your imagination. Not when the real deal is in front of you, inviting you to have your fill.
You pinch lightly at the flesh of his inner thighs, you’re so close to his crotch, if it wasn’t for that piece of armor around his waist, the side of your face would be squished in it.
“Enough teasing,” He says, and almost as if he was reading your mind, he rids himself of the armor and other superfluous frills attached to it. “Get to work.”
Now that nothing is blocking your view, you can see the bulge that formed under all those clothing.
The sight makes you drool, as you immediately reach a hand to slightly squeeze it. Your eagerness amuses him, but he’s grown impatient. His grip on your hair is much tighter now, dragging your face until it’s directly flush with his clothed erection.
“You better not waste my time” His tone is harsh and firm, and it just makes the heat between your legs worse. When his grip relents, you push yourself away just enough to pull down his shorts. He shifts his hips up, aiding you in sliding them off.
Now that his erection is free, it bounces slightly as your breath fans over it. The tip is a cute shade of pink, beads of precum leaking from it. But he doesn’t give you the time to admire it any longer, grabbing himself from the hilt to slap it on your face a few times. The sound of skin slapping against skin is the only audible thing in the room. It makes your head spin. To think you’d have the privilege of being the one he unleashes his sexual frustrations on.
He pulls your head up, tapping his dick on your lips. You open your mouth, letting him rest his tip on it, and your lips wrap around him, tasting him.
Were it any other situation, you’d take your time in savoring this moment, slowly sliding your tongue around his girth, letting his desire grow. But this is different, like if your performance doesn’t satisfy him he might just kill you on the spot.
And the thought shouldn’t turn you on, for a second the thought of biting him just to piss him off crosses your mind. What a way to go that would be.
Alas, not wanting to keep him waiting, you make an effort to take as much of him as you can, until your nose is flush with his pelvis.
He lets out a satisfied sigh and that slight expression of annoyance leaves his face, your mouth is warm and wet, and the movement of you swallowing around sends shivers down his spine.
“That’s it,” his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. “That’s good.”
The mere hint of him praising you makes you shudder, you’re so soaked your underwear is sticking to your cunt. You want to thank him, but speaking with him in your mouth proves to be difficult, it comes out as an unintelligible hum, whether he understood you or not he seems to appreciate the vibration of your throat.
He pulls your head back, urging you to start moving, seemingly done with just enjoying your throat. You drag yourself back until his tip is once again resting on your tongue, and then push it all back in, as far as you can go. You manage to work up a steady rhythm, one that leaves small moans escape from his mouth. They’re breathy, but every time you manage to wring one out of him is like a win to you. Each little noise of his spurs you on further. One of your hands reaches up to grab the rest of him, moving up and down in synch with your mouth, while the other reaches down and inside your uniform pants, rubbing at your clit.
“F-fuck… You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Your eyes trail up to look at his, his flushed face looking back at you.
“Me using your mouth turns you on.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and to put more emphasis on it he shifts his legs until one of them is resting between your own.
“You’re doing a good job… I guess I should reward you.”
He shoves his boot up, as if kicking your hand away. He wants you to…. oh.
Complacently, you shift lower until your full weight is resting on him, the absence of your fingers replaced by him. It takes you a moment to adjust to this new position, but once you get back on your rhythm you resume your ministrations on him, while slowly grinding on his leg.
His other hand reaches your head, threading your hair before settling a firm grip next to the other, you’re given a moment of reprise before he shoves his hips forward, roughly, holding you in place.
His thrusts are fast and merciless, each one reaching deeper inside your throat. You close your eyes, trying not to gag when he reaches a bit too deep, not that you have the ability to complain, all you can do is try your best to accommodate him as he uses you to get off. Your hips start moving a bit faster too, the thought of you being a mere means to an end in his eyes is turning you on more than you’d like. And he notices.
His cock throbs in your mouth and he lets out a breathy laugh, “So pathetic. Humping my leg like a dog in heat.”
You open your eyes for a moment to look at him. He’s grinning at you, looking at you as if you were something truly beneath him, pushing his hips in rougher as if to accentuate that. The sounds of saliva and cum smacking around your lips are so obscenely loud, you’d have half a mind to almost be embarrassed by it, but there’s a knot tightening in your stomach, and it grows tighter and tighter with every thrust of your hips. It doesn’t help that with every thrust his leg moves slightly up against you, coaxing you into an orgasm.
Your hands clamp on his thighs, hard, the shuddering of your hips slowing down as you unwind on him. You let out withered moans, barely audible but still sending pleasurable vibrations up his length.
You’re straight up drooling around him at this point, saliva sliding down your chin and on his balls. He’s sounding a bit breathier above you, and you can feel him twitching with more vigor inside your throat. Your body limp on his makes it easier to thrust deeper.
He pushes in as far as your throat allows him and stills there. You’re prepared to feel him coming down your throat, but he pushes your head back suddenly, so far back his dick slides off your mouth with a wet pop.
He’s stroking himself above you for a moment until there’s a brief pause, interrupted by a breathless curse as he finishes on the top of your lips, riddling your face with his come.
He sags back down on the couch, basking in the aftermath of his orgasm with you still in between his legs. His chest heaves up and down, catching his breath, but his moment of peace is short lived as he speaks up.
“I guess you did prove yourself,” he says as he slowly tucks himself back in his pants. You squint up at him. You don’t move from your position, still sitting even as he removes his leg from underneath you, breathing slowly and deeply now that his dick occupying your airways.
When you come to your senses you start searching around with your gaze for a tissue or even some rag to clean yourself up, you’re truly in an unpresentable state. Your hair is messily pulled out of its ties, strands flying everywhere and some glued to your face. Your face… Awkwardly, you wipe your lips, trying to at least dry up the saliva but there’s nothing you can do to hide the very evident cum sticking on… everything else. You can’t just walk out in this state- you do have a reputation to uphold. And rumors travel fast- by the end of the day every cadet would know of the shameful state you left the Balladeer’s office in, and it wouldn’t take long for them to put two and two together-
“Oh. This belongs to you.” He says holding your mask, seemingly noticing your inner monologue. “You’ll be needing it out there.” He adds as he puts it back on your face, squishing that bit of cum on your cheeks.
“You can go now. I’ll call you again when I need your… assistance.”
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hitlikehammers · 7 months
Text
feels like home
rating: t ♥️ cw: coming out, softness, recovering from the upside down ♥️ tags: pre-relationship, post-s4, fluff, hurt/comfort, Eddie is having many feelings, the main one being that Steve feels like home, platonic stobbin, supportive platonic soulmates coming out so Eddie feels safe to do the same, injury recovery, still-so-soft
for @steddielovemonth day seventeen: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost (@yournowheregirl)
this definitely takes place chronologically after this one so: have some of these codependent lovebirds as they start to figure their big feelings out ♥️
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It’s weird, and probably unhealthy, that his hospital room—like this—feels kinda like home.
But he thinks it’s okay, to be fair, because it’s not like he thinks this place is home; the smell of antiseptic is still pretty sharp in the air even as he’s gotten disconnected from one machine, drip, or monitor every day until he’s largely free to toddle to the bathroom on his own as long as there’s someone to watch and make sure he doesn’t fall. Wayne’s there for that when he can be, which explains the home associations, but: the rest of the time, in fact—kinda more often than it isn’t?
It’s Steve.
And Eddie struck a deal with himself—no digging in to the fluttery-gooey-warm-chest-squeezy feelings while he’s laid up in a bed—but when he walks around even under supervision, it’s…feeling like he’s cheating.
Plus the feelings are getting kinda…kinda loud.
Because Steve is always there, sometimes he ever stays when Wayne comes, at least for a while. He leaves to keep an eye on the Party, leaves to check up on Max, hits the community hub: but it’s…it’s such a blip of time, honestly, in comparison to being here, with Eddie.
And when he’s gone, it doesn’t…it doesn’t feel at all like home, it feels kinda fucking horrible, so.
Eddie doesn’t even actually have to dig in to that train of thought. It’s pretty fucking clear as-is.
He’s surfacing from kind of, like, a light doze, not even a full on nap, and he’s gentle with the coming-to of it because he can kinda, like, feel Steve’s presence at his side and he’s talking really low anyway, even if he couldn’t, so Eddie definitely knows it’s him, and he could have guessed the other visitor pretty easy even if it wasn’t her voice that was the first to bleed through with actual words:
“She’s,” Robin makes a little stifled whine; “you’ve seen her.”
“Not my type but,” Steve’s saying from next to Eddie; “ I see your point, yeah.”
“She’s like a,” Robin’s voice goes kinda hazy, a little dreamy; “like a fairy creature, or! Or like a prairie woman with those, those hats—“
“A prairie woman who likes boobi—“
“Stop!” Robin hisses low, and Eddie can feel her knock his mattress a little, she must lean over like she wants to enforce her will somehow: “stop stop stop—“
“If you can’t say it you probably shouldn’t be touchin—“ Steve’s saying and god, his voice is so bitching, and Eddie think he kinda fucking lov—
Oh. Oh, well. Shit.
“I’m not touching!” Robin moans, but kinda frantic with it; “the problem is I am not touching!”
And Eddie, too, is not touching the thought he just had about those four fucking letters that are, that, that are—
“Also it’s a gross, immature word,” Robin’s going on and…oh.
Oh.
Okay, so like: even if he’s just kinda in that liminal space of awareness, they have to know he’s more awake than not; his two remaining monitors are different even when he’s calm and just resting, but as the words themselves sink in, now? His heartbeat’s betraying the hell out of him for the staccato it’s pinging on the screen as he processes it: Robin’s showing her cards, though Eddie’d always figured she might be a bird of his feather, but, like—
“Is it though?” Steve’s murmuring low and so, so judgmental; “seems more immature to not say it at all,” and he, he fucking tsks at her, then, and, and—
And then—
Then Steve’s saying words that make no sense at all, like: sure they’re words. In English. Eddie’s very sure of it. So that means he should definitely comprehend them. But…
“You should listen to me, Robs, seriously. I do still like boobies, too. I have insights.”
And Eddie—Eddie’s eyes fly open, he thinks out of shock? That makes the most sense, like he’s startled into full-wakefulness, that tracks as he blinks up at the water-stainer ceiling with his heart in his throat as he tries to find sense in those words, fails, tries again, fucking fails, all as the Corsican Twins cackle over word choice, good god, and then—
“Hey.”
Steve’s grabbing his hand at the wrist and covering it so gently, fucking…cradles it and stories his thumb over the insistent tap of his pulse and meets his eyes, so wide and honest and earnest and if Eddie’s heart wasn’t already primed toward racing it sure as shit would have started just with those eyes on him, and that touch on him, and:
“You okay, man?” and it’s so simple, and Eddie doesn’t fucking know what’s happening on his face, what kind of of shock or terror or something deeper still is seeping from his expression but Steve’s studying him, watching for long seconds that stretch for-fucking-everbefore his jaw squares and his head tiles, something resolute shining through in him and he moves so slowly, lifts Eddie’s hand in his so slowly and Eddie doesn’t even wholly clock what’s happening, let alone that it’s real, as Steve fucking pauses their hands by his lips, so Eddie can feel his breath so warm and he watches, then, waits, and Eddie doesn’t think through what it means when he nods, like it’s not actually a legitimate thought, exactly, he just knows that, that—
Whatever’s happening, and however terrified he thinks he is: he can trust Steve.
Because somehow: Steve’s home.
It’s still fucking earth-shattering when Steve does lean, when his lips brush against the heel of Eddie’s palm, still scrape-covered, and then he reaches just as slow again for Eddie’s cheek to cup, to fucking cradle that, too, and Jesus H. Goddamn Christ—
“You’re safe, Eddie,” is all he says and maybe, maybe Eddie’s reading into it way beyond what he should, but like, it doesn’t feel like Steve’s telling him he’s safe maybe from the lingering threads of a nightmare, or that he’s safe from the government, from the cops, or from the Upside Down coming for them because they all know it’s still fucking coming but Eddie has felt scared of it once, yet, not like this, not here, with—
But Steve’s tone doesn’t just hold that: it’s bigger. He means…
They had to know he wasn’t really asleep, and so, Eddie, Eddie thinks Steve means…
Yeah.
Fuck.
“You’re outta water,” Steve’s saying and Eddie didn’t even notice he’d been reading to pour Eddie a glass from the ever-present pitcher at his bedside then he’s standing, his hand leaving and fuck all if Eddie doesn’t lean into it before he can think twice but Steve just smiles, soft, as he walks out the door.
“We talked about it.”
He turns to Robin almost violently, head kinda snapping her direction with the speed and force he moves with.
“We weren’t gonna hide it from you, but like,” she mashes her lips together, Eddie can see she’s trying to find a way forward with the least possible rambling, but the clearest possible throughway so she can get what she needs to say out, before Steve comes back.
“You shouldn’t feel like you have to,” she hums a little; “be that, you know, open? With us, if you don’t want to,” her eyes are so big and sincere, and Eddie’s pulse is steadying if only slowing by a fraction, but she does help put him at ease, even as she trips a little over the rest: “if you had any thing that was, y’know, kinda private or, something,” she nods to herself and plays with the hem of her shirt: “yeah.”
Eddie nods to himself, and…he can’t, he can’t not ask her, not in this window, because she said they’d talked and if this wasn’t part of it she loves Steve fierce and he could be still a little fresh off death’s door, she’ll still tell him to fuck off if she needs to, so at least there’s that, at least he knows, like, he won’t be allowed to step where he’s not welcome, and—
“I’m,” and fuck, his voice is a mess, he does need a fucking drink but in the absence of one at hand, he clears his throat hard and accepts that consequences of it burning like hell; “he, umm,” Eddie bits his lip and gestures toward the empty door, eyes Robin kinda pitifully: “he said—“
Robin, thank fuck: Robin is merciful, has to see where he’s going, here, and she points to the doorway indicative of who isn’t in it, yet:
“Very both,” she says simply, then point to herself: “very…”
“Boobies?” Eddie suggests and Robin, she just groans.
“Not you too,” and…okay, shit, umm, well—
Eddie… maybe Eddie can be brave. Like, in small doses.
“Actually, ah, I,” he stumbled but then he makes himself take a breath, makes himself try:
“No, not me too,” he says in a rush and looks up at her through his lashes, so fucking vulnerable: “like, very specifically not, me too.”
And she smiles at him so warm and…like, almost welcoming, which is weird but feels, nice? And she pats his arm kinda affectionately and, just—
“Did you decide to take me up on my wisdom so we can actually accept she’s almost definitely into you, and move on to planning your wedding?” Steve slides back in and shuts the door behind him, getting to pouring Eddie some water before he even sits the fuck down.
His fingers brush Eddie’s as he passes it off and, it probably shouldn’t make Eddie all tingly, Steve did kinda kiss his hand? Like, a little?
But that don’t mean shit: Eddie’s all pins and needles and, like, sparkles.
“He’s the only help you’ve got here, Buckley,” Eddie screws his courage up one more time because…because Steve needs to know, too; Eddie wouldn’t put Robin in the position of not knowing whether she can tell her platonic soulmate something, make her keep a secret even by implication but so much bigger that that is, are—
All the things he doesn’t want to poke at, or dig up and examine, that he’s dodging on the excuse of convalescence: all those things taken into account: he trusts Steve. He feels…so much for Steve already, and he feels weirdly sure that whatever happens next, those feelings are only gonna find ways to grow, so—
Steve has to know, not just because Eddie thinks he suspects it, but because Eddie tells him—because it’s….’cause it’s Steve.
“Feels like it’d be foolish not to take the man up on the offer when he’s definitely the expert in the room,” Eddie pushes on, awkward but determined; “seeing as I don’t, umm, know about,” and his eyes flicker to Robin for a second, before they land on Steve to finish:
“About boobies.”
And Steve does say anything, doesn’t look any way save how he’d looked before: calm, and mostly-relaxed, and right next to Eddie, and Eddie’s eyes drop from Steve’s face and find the collar of his shirt, the peak of hair from in between and, shit, shit, he’s talking about tits and then there’s Steve’s chest hair and holy fucking wow he is staring:
“Umm, I mean,” and fucking fuck, now he’s talking—
“Like, not that kind, at least,” and then he forces his eyes down to the sheets over his lap and considers if it’s possible to dissolve into cotton if it’s startchy and uncomfortable as shit, and you happen to be mortified enough to sink into the fucking threads.
But then; then there’s Steve.
Because of fucking course there’s Steve.
And Steve?
Steve takes his cup from him when he could easily have leaned to put it down himself, but then Steve replaces the cup in Eddie’s grip with his own warm hand, like a tether, like a lifeline, like a…
Like a promise.
And when the conversation turns toward strategizing Robin’s approach for Vickie, Eddie’s, he, he just…
He’s home, y’know?
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tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson
♥️
divider credit here
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hanihazeljade · 6 months
Text
Forced Playdate
Timothy is good at keeping good boy image in his appearances in public vicinity but somehow this girl that he was forced to get along with, frustrates every single neuron he has and things go awry.
Part 3 of Disgustingly Green , Skill Issue
(CW: mean, mean, mean Timothy)
Timothy was called one day and he was forced to be nice with this girl, her named is probably Maya or Gia? He didn't remember, she was named in his head as a rambunctious brat.
Well apparently, the brat's father and the weird man that throw him are friends, probably the father is also a weird and idiot person, because birds and their feathers.
Lunch with the kid is a disaster. She use her hands to eat her food like a baby and the food sometimes fly around his plate, making his appetite finally left him. Thank goodness he was not put in a high chair or else he will just drop himself and hope he will die.
If such a kid don't have manners, and the father's friend don't have manners, then by analytical and statistical basis, the father is also a rambunctious brat that doesn't have any manners, and Timothy will do his best to avoid those people.
But of course, the Waynes are twats that doesn't make his life any easier.
Tim doesn't know why he was being forced to be buddy buddy with this uncivilised monkey. At first he can tolerate it as maybe she is just really got a lenient parent, a single father even, but as time goes by Timothy starts to get irritated by passing second.
The little girl, Sophia(?), he still can't remember and he rather stays that way, kept asking him so many questions and kept telling him that they should play. Rolling his eyes internally, he rather jump to Gotham Bay instead of playing with this monkey.
"Didn't your parents taught you manners?" Timothy suddenly asked, losing his cool altogether. The girl just tilt her head. She is already six and yet can't articulate her words better, His mother wouldn't be proud if he was this late bloomer.
"Manners?" she finally replied, titled her head in a manner that some people will say it's adorable, still kind of dumb answer but at least she kinda shut up for now.
"You are a lady, you need to act like one. Not an uncivilised homosapiens." Tim rolled his eyes. The little girl definitely didn't understand what he said, but her father did and boy, was he pissed.
"She's six!" Roy growled, obviously not fancying the idea his daughter is not allowed to be a little kid and be a stuck up spoiled little brat.
Tim just scoffed, like how her mother would whenever his father said something dumb, "And when I'm six, I know how to behave like a decent human being, not some animal who acts on it's instinct." Timothy said as he glared sharply to Roy. The kid was cute but those eyes are not. Roy never thought that he can see the Tim's eyes like that. It was always light and some life in them but now, Tim is like those pretentious rich people he met during Ollie's parties.
"You spoil her too much, but what should I expect to someone who befriend a failure like that man." Timothy rolled his eyes, "You people disgust me."
Tim sighed, he didn't give anyone a chance to speak as he announced, "I will be in my room. I am exhausted dealing with people like you." Timothy said with disgust as he left in silence.
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phantom-0-writer · 1 year
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*standing menacingly at the door* i made u something
anyways lol. i had a lot of school work and was really busy freaking out and stress studying for a singular test that was 4 questions and would be over in like an hour and then i proceeded to cry about it in my car for various reasons.
but yk what that means!
time for our irregular and unscheduled update of
Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program
this episode featuring a fan favorite: Duke Thomas (aka The Signal - but thats kind of irrelevant for this)
you were supposed to read that like it was from a '90s sitcom and the off screen crowd cheers rly loudly.
some house keeping updates: this scene happens in the beginning of the school year (going by the american system should be september) danny meets damian (and upsurges tim on the same day) around midterm which is around october and then the stuff with jason and damian's drawing happens around december. i kinda accidentally burned the irl timeline for anything dc first scene so now im just gonna do whatever i want.
anyways with out further ado:
table of contents
scene 04: after school activities for normal kids
Duke stood around the corner of the classroom awkwardly, wondering if he had made the right call. Sure the bats and the birds had a plethora of hands on deck any time, but most of them specialized as night time heros. Not to say that they were incompetent or anything, they were some of the most skilled and innovative people Duke had ever had the pleasure of meeting. Sure if anything happened, they could handle it, at least until Duke could slip away and show up as the Signal- Alfred and Bruce had assured him so much. But Duke couldn’t slip the guilt of busying away more of his time to after school activities when he could be patrolling or studying instead, 
But Duke had wanted to do something outside of those things, which was specifically why he had made the difficult decision to join a few clubs and after school activities. He could use a break from being surrounded by people who worked the vigilante life-style just to remember how to be a normal civilian. Let himself take a break from constantly be consumed by one case or another, one disaster or another, not being able to do enough no matter how much he tried or how much time he spent patrolling. 
Duke needed to feel grounded, like his feet were on the ground and he could press the brakes and smell the fragrance of life. Even if the fragrance was a forgotten pile of dog s-
“Alright,” The instructor for their culinary club started with a weird German accent that sounded really fake. “I am Herman. You can call me Chef or Chef Herman or just Chef. I will not bore you all with the boring introductions, and let's head right into the cooking, yes. On this paper here I made the partners for all of you to cook with for the rest of the year. If you have problem with it then quit.” 
This Herman guy seemed like quite the character, and was definitely not helping any of Duke’s previous anxieties. Many of Duke’s clubmates seem to think so too, sending their friends various looks. But no one spoke out, and instead shuffled to the front to look at the singular sheet of paper that would assign them their partners. Duke finally made it to the front and saw that he was paired with a Daniel Fenton at Station 7. 
Crossing his fingers that Daniel had at least only a half-rotten personality, Duke made his way over to station 7. The station was already prepped with an assortment of ingredients and cooking equipment. Duke had already set his stuff down claiming the seat closer to the exit (in case) when a lanky kid comes over, “Uh, your Duke Thomas?” He asks hesitantly looking back at the front counter the partner assignment sheet was. 
It took Duke an awkward second longer to realize that this kid was probably his partner. “Oh yeah I am.” He laughed apologetically, “You must be Daniel.” 
“Danny’s fine.” The boy smiled, absentmindedly brushing his messy black hair out of his face, his glacier blue looking at the equipment. Duke couldn’t help but feel like there was something off about Danny. Not in Gotham’s usual psycho-maniac-out-to-terrorizer-the-city-and-kill-innocent-people kind of off, more in a he’s not in sync with the rest of the world off. While Chef Herman explained the general structure of various types of kitchen and kitchen hierarchy that Duke was already familiar with, Duke tried to get a read on him. 
Weird did not mean threat, after all many of the Justice League- heck even the local Wayne/Batclan were pretty weird- and they (usually) didn’t mean any harm. It wouldn’t be fair of Duke to jump the horse like that. 
Deciding he should try to be friendly with him, Duke leaned over, “Is it just me or is Chef Herman’s accent totally fake?” he whispered. 
“Oh, Ancients,” Anciets? “I thought I was just going insane.” Danny sighed in relief with a small chuckle. There was a moment of silence between the two of them where no one said anything for longer than socially acceptable and Duke debated using his powers to see if he could find a clue or something. That seemed kinda invasive, though. 
When the Chef had started instructions on making today's recipe, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Danny helped Duke measure out the ingredients. “So,” Danny tried again, “What are you in for?” 
“What am I…” Duke repeated confused, 
Danny chuckled awkwardly, “Like why you joined the club.” 
Duke seriously needed to get his head in the present; this was getting embarrassing. “Oh.” He nodded in understanding, “I’ve always liked cooking,” Duke shrugged, “When I was little my parents and I would always cook together, and it was always one of my favorite things to do. And I’ve kinda always liked it, but I fell off of it for a while with school and stuff,” emphasis on the stuff “I thought joining a club could help me get back into it and get away from… everything.” That was a little more candid than Duke had planned on being with someone he had met quite literally a few minutes ago, but it felt good to have that out of his chest. The pleasant memories of his parents swimming in his mind. Mixing the dry ingredients, “Sorry that was kind of a lot.” Duke laughed genuinely this time. 
“Dude, no it’s actually so cool that you like to cook.” Danny said admiration was easy on his face, and Duke couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. 
“What about you, then?” 
“Ugh,” He groaned jokingly, “You can’t seriously be asking for my lame ass reason after you pulled out the flashbacks.” Danny whined, letting the oven preheat like Chef told them to. 
“C’mon, it’s only fair.” Duke played along, already ahead of the other groups. 
Danny sighed, “Promise you won’t laugh.” 
“Okay, it can’t be that bad.” Duke could already feel the smile cracking on his face. 
“It is.” Danny drawlled, “So I live in the dorms right, and I got to pull some strings and room with one of my friends from back home this year. And well, let’s just say my family has a bit of a reputation for causing problems, and the kitchen definitely wasn’t an exception. One time my dad tried to make some soup for my mom because she got sick.” Duke nodded approvingly, that was a sweet gesture, “It was all fun and games until the bomb squad had to show up and long story short we had to move.” 
“You’re joking.” Duke gaped at the bizarre story, but at Danny’s solemn expression, Duke couldn’t help but be appalled, “A bomb squad over soup.”
“My parents were never really heavy on lab safety,” Danny added, as if that explained everything, “But I burn one pot of water and maybe make a few extra-crispy eggs, and suddenly its all ‘Danny you’re not allowed in the kitchen unless you start taking actual classes’ and ‘Danny that's a biohazard’.” 
“You burned a pot of water.” Duke echoed, Danny nodded innocently, “Water doesn’t burn.”
“Well, maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.” Danny sneered, trying to crack an egg on the corner of the bowl only for all the shell to fall in the bowl and the yolk on the counter. 
“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true.” Duke said, taking the bowl from him and expertly cracking an egg single handedly. Danny looked on in awe. “You said you live in the dorms?” Duke asked easily. 
“Oh yeah, all of the non-local scholarship kids have to.” 
Before Duke could respond, a girl from the station in front of them whips her head around, “You said you’re here on a scholarship?” She asked almost oppressively. 
Danny just as taken aback as Duke felt, “Uh, yeah.” 
“Me, too. Have you heard anything about the Mentorship Program here? Apparently we all have to join.” The girl’s partner was looking between Duke and Danny confused, but returned to their cooking uninterested. 
“Oh, yeah. They make us all join.” Danny nodded. 
“I heard from some of the older kids, that no one actually gets picked for that. It’s just like a weird formality thing.” The girl spoke animatedly, “What department are you in?” 
“Applied physics and engineering design.” The oven beeps that it was ready but no one moved. 
The girl seemed to deflate that answer, “Oh, I’m doing culinary science.” And with that solid conclusionary statement, she turned around and got back to her work station. 
Danny blinked, processing what just happened and slowly turning to look at Duke for proof that just happened. But the second the both of them met each other’s eyes, they burst into a fit of silent laughter. 
Bent vunuralably over the table, trying to catch their breath, they were accosted by Chef Hermon. “The two of you are having a comedy club, not a cooking club.” Chef crossed his arms at the edge of the table. Duke was pretty sure he was trying to sold them, but the fake accent was making it hard to tell. 
Danny cleared his throat and striated up, “Sorry, Sir.” He apologized quickly. 
“Chef.” Hermon peered at them, his hat looking comically large and lopsided on his head now that Duke was getting a closer look. 
“Sorry, Chef.” Duke amended, trying to keep his cool. 
“Yes, finish cooking your cookies.” He nodded satisfied, leaving their station. 
“Okay so,” Duke tried to recount what the last thing they did was, but one look at Danny trying desperately to hold in his laugh had ruined all of Duke’s efforts as well. Barely managing to get their cookies in the oven, over Chef’s fake german accent and floppy oversized chef’s hat. 
“So scholarship for applied physics and engineering design, huh.” Duke recounted from earlier, impressed. 
“Yeah…” Danny trailed off embarrassed, “It sounds kinda snotty.” 
“Dude. That’s literally one of the hardest departments to get into, and the scholarship is no sneeze either. There’s no doubt you worked your butt off to get that.” Duke assured Danny as they sat in their stools waiting for the cookies to finish. 
“Thanks,” Danny smiled sheepishly. They sat in a much more comfortable silence now before Danny spoke again, “What grade are you in by the way?” 
“I’m in 10th. General studies for now, but I was thinking of doing medicine. You?” 
“I could totally see you as a hot-shot doctor.” Danny nodded approvingly, “11th. Technically, I’m your upperclassman then.” 
“Technically?” Duke asked.
“I mean, how old are you?” 
“15.” Duke supplied confused. 
“Me too. I skipped a grade in elementary school, so we’re actually the same age.” Danny explained, sheepishly. 
“Dude, you're actually way smart.” Duke gaped in awe. 
“Hey medicine isn’t a day walk either.” Danny nudged his arm playfully, “I’m glad the mentorship thing is just for show, though. Now that we’re upperclassmen, y’know. I would not want my hands full with some random rich kid.” 
Duke laughed, “Yeah, that definitely sounds like a lot of work.” 
Easily unfolding the conversation into various topics and interests Duke found that he didn’t mind that the cookies were burnt. Or that Danny was definitely weird. But in a good way. Duke was glad they met and would get to hang out and cook with their weird not-German Chef every week. And if Danny and Duke exchanged numbers and planned to hangout outside of club activities, then well who was going to stop them.
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