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pinkie-quinns · 3 months ago

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rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to ?? | fame au p2 | p1 p3 p4 p5 interlude p6

The picture itself is not incriminating.

In the five years since Eddie’s wet dog apology they have been cordial to each other. Eddie seemed to have finally grown up. Finally got the hint. He doesn’t bug Steve after that night. He stays in his lane.

After a few years it’s a nod at a charity event. A half-smile at the town’s trendy new restaurant. A card when Steve gets an Emmy nod for his HBO series. Steve tries to not mind it. Tries to not let it get under his skin. He doesn’t send Eddie anything when he gets his Grammy.

LA is a small town. Eddie moved back once he finished his first tour. Steve does his best to keep his circle separate but LA is a small town. He nearly ends up at Eddie’s 30th after his coworker tries to drag him to some “rager in Loz Feliz.”

Sometimes, after another break up leaves him feeling shit-all, Steve drives past their dingy old place in West Hollywood. Tries to picture the version of the story where Eddie wasn’t eaten by his monster ego. Lets himself imagine them happy. Lets himself cry over it again. Like it happened yesterday instead of a decade ago.

But then he blinks and it’s been twelve years and yeah, maybe he hasn’t felt home like he did with Eddie, maybe no one else has fit him quite so right. But maybe he was just young and everything felt bigger then.

He feels weirdly at peace about it all. It’s not forgiveness, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to stomach that, but it is acceptance. It took a long time to scar but it's finally just a faded pink line. He’s happy.

And then the photo starts to circulate.

The picture itself is not incriminating.

It’s their old WeHo apartment. Eddie’s hopped on the grimy kitchen counter, acoustic guitar in hand. He’s smiling at Steve and Steve is leaned against the wall and he’s smiling back. And it’s Them. And Steve thinks they’ve never looked so young.

He doesn’t know who took the photo. Maybe Robin or Nancy or Jon. They visited a lot in that first year.

He doesn’t know how it ended up digitized, posted to a random pop culture subreddit.

What he does know is that he and Eddie have never publicly acknowledged each other.

The internet treats the picture like a cute little chachki in the first few days. A buzzpop factoid #67. It’s “Did you know Tommy Lee Jones and Al Gore were college roommates?”

But then news outlets were picking it up. And Eddie was halfway through promoting his third album.

They’re dead lucky the picture is not incriminating.

Steve’s still not technically out– he’s had quiet relationships with men but his team preferred a starlet on his arm at the carpets.

Eddie’s out the way a rockstar is. He’d fuck anything as long as it made him a pervert.

Their teams move fast.

The official story is that they’d both moved to LA to pursue their careers. They roomed together because they knew each other from their small town. Then Steve booked his show and Eddie moved to London and they lost touch.

Eddie repeats it on talk show after talk show. He lies and says they’re still friendly now, but their schedules keep them both so busy. They haven’t caught up in a while. He goes wistful when he says it. Steve tries not to feel downright bitter. It does quiet the chatter down.

In November, his manager tells him he’s presenting at the Golden Globes. The studio had asked him specifically, still under contract to promote their animated movie. He agrees cause he needs eyes on the tiny indie he'd finally gotten made.

In December, he finds out who he’s presenting with.

Steve throws a fit. It’s uncharacteristic. It’s not at all in line with the nice-guy persona he’s spent years cultivating. But they’ve managed to get this far without him actually having to talk to the guy. He doesn’t ever want to have to talk to Eddie Munson again.

His manager lures him off the ledge. It’s too late to change the line-up. He's put in years of work to get his movie made. She reminds him that it’s Hollywood. Everyone has to deal with this shit. Not worth blowing it all up because he can’t handle 30 minutes with his ex.

So Steve plays nice but Eddie skips out on rehearsal. Of fucking course. Twelve years and he’s still so predictable.

Steve reads the teleprompter next to a random PA and decides then and there to say Fuck Healing. He did that. And now he’s being punished. Again. He’s fucking pissed.

He’s pissed that the photo got out. He’s pissed at whoever leaked it. He’s pissed enough to convince himself it was Eddie. He’s pissed Eddie’s shouldering his way back into his life even if it wasn’t him.

And yeah, he’s still fucking pissed that Eddie left in the first place.

Steve first sees him on the carpet. It’s from a distance, and he’s determined to keep it that way for as long as possible. He wishes Eddie dashed for the real thing too, but he knows his ego couldn’t take the blow. Eddie Munson loves attention too much.

Eddie looks great, cause he’s a celebrity & it’s a 10-person job to make him look great.

Eddie looks great cause he’s always looked great. Even when his hair was all frizz and his hygiene habits were questionable at best. And Steve hates him but his dick has never gotten the memo.

Steve deals with it by drinking a lot. It’s the Globes! He sits at his table and smiles and they give him alcohol and he drinks it. It’s stupid and it’s reckless and it’s the only thing that’s gonna get him through this torture. So he picks at his ugly velvet suit and he drinks.

The wranglers grab them 20 minutes before they’re set to present. It’s earlier than usual but Munson’s been known to dash.

They’re sitting on opposite couches in the green room. Eddie’s vibrating. Leg jittering nonstop. Steve’s starting to feel woozy. They’re not talking.

After five minutes, Eddie clicks his tongue and gets up. “Gonna take a leak.” His wrangler starts after him. “Follow me and I cut off your dick.”

Steve looks at the kid, weighing tearily whether his job was more important than his penis, “I’ll- I'll make sure he’s back on time.”

Steve stumbles riled down the hall, opens the door with a slam, “You leak the photo, Munson?”

Eddie’s already washing his hands. Steve catches his reflection in the mirror. He looks weirdly hurt.

“Steve,” Eddie says his name so... sad, “C’mon, man. I- I wouldn’t do that.”

Steve laughs cold, puts his hands in his suit pockets. “Sure, yeah, man. You’d just disappear for seven years. Come back with some horseshit apology because you finally got what you wanted. Cause your ego could finally handle being around me. But sure. You wouldn’t do that.”

Eddie steps back into the wall, looks at Steve with those watery brown eyes. They’re framed by crows feet now. “Steve, I–”

Steve boxes him in, makes it so he can’t slip away this time, “You know there was a week there where I thought you'd fucking died.”

He feels like a live wire. He feels every awful thing he’s felt for a dozen years bubble to the surface.

“Mike Wheeler told me where you went. Mike. Wheeler. I thought you were dead in a ditch, you asshole. Thought I’d lost you forever. But no. You just skipped town– Skipped town because I loved you and you fucking hated me.”

He doesn’t know when grabbed a fist into Eddie’s shirt. He wants to tear it. It’s probably insured.

“Stevie,” Eddie’s blubbering. Their faces are close enough that Steve can see his lip quivering. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”

Now Steve really wants to laugh. Baby. It’s such garbage. Total bullshit.

“I wish you’d died. It would’ve hurt less.” He says it dry, with his big wide movie-star smile. Then he spits, bullseye on Eddie’s cheek, “I fucking hate you.”

It’s so strange to see Eddie up close after all this time. He’s blurry in the memories but so vivid here, so harsh. Makeup cracking into nicotine wrinkles. Different. A mask of the person Steve knew.

He breathes, “I know.”

----

Eddie's tongue still tastes the same.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #twitter threads #fanfic #angst #fame au

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paradiseprincesss · 7 months ago

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ok ok hear me out jonathan crane x batgirl fic? Omggg

moonlight - jonathan crane x batgirl!reader

masterlist

notes: yeah so jonathan x batgirl reader is always made to be dark and i wanted to bring a new perspective to this trope. working hard every day for my pookies so i can feed u new fics all the time

summary: you and your secret lover have little rendezvous throughout gotham, but you both grow tired of the secret keeping and leading a double life. why not just run away together and leave your alter egos behind in the city of gotham?

word count: 3.1k (sigh, this was meant to be a drabble...)

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving), kissing, secret & established relationship, reader and jon are both whipped af lol, FLUFF like...lots of it

you sighed as you leant against the ledge of a terrace that peered out onto gotham city. it was nearly midnight, and here you were, stood alone on the highest floor of a parkade. well, not totally alone.

"thought i might find you here," a voice calls from behind you, "you look rather sad, darling."

turning around, you see jonathan in his usual suit and tie, along with the burlap scarecrow mask covering his face. he makes his way over to you, towering over you by a long shot with his tall height. he peers down at you, his strikingly blue eyes watching you through the little holes in his mask.

"i hate this city," you say solemnly, "everything is corrupt, and everyone has lost all their morals."

"that's gotham for you, sweetheart." he says matter-of-factly, now looking out onto the cityscape with you.

as the warm, summer breeze blows past both of you, neither of you speak. you stay silent at his remark, and he picks up on how your feeling. he knows you - he knows you very well. jonathan sighs, and for a minute, it was like just the two of you existed in this very moment in time.

"we'll move somewhere far away," he says softly, pulling you into his side as his hands rested on your waist, "i promise. i'll find us a quiet house in a quiet neighbourhood, and it'll be just us for the rest of eternity."

you look up at him lovingly, and he returned the same expression as he looked down at you. this wasn't how it was supposed to be - villains and hero's aren't meant to fall for one another. yet, here you were, wrapped in your so called "enemies" embrace. but you wouldn't change it for the world.

jonathan still recalls the day you first met, the memory ever so vivid inside of his mind. you were out fighting crime or whatever it was that you were doing that night, and he was out doing his typical, no-good, illegal activities. you know, fear-gassing and poisoning people; the usual. you'd stumbled across jonathan - or as you knew him back then, the scarecrow - finishing up what appeared to be a drug deal of some sort in an abandoned warehouse.

jonathan remembered the way his heart staggered when he saw you in your tight, slightly very skimpy, little latex bodysuit that you wore. the matching thigh high boots didn't help, and neither did that awfully pretty face of yours. he almost forgot you were batmans accomplice for a second, your appearance distracting him greatly.

"batgirl," he cooed mockingly, watching your every move, "so nice of you to finally join me."

"scarecrow," you sneered, "i've been looking for you."

"i'm flattered, darling. i really am." he says to you, making your blood boil.

"shut up-"

"and might i say, that latex suit is leaving very little to the imagination. if i knew this was how you would show up, i would've made plans to run into you sooner." he says, interrupting you as he cooed mockingly once more with hungry eyes trailing your body.

suddenly, you felt vulnerable and exposed under his scrutiny and lingering gaze. you cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself as you felt his eyes lingering on your body.

"don't bother trying to run-"

"oh, trust me, i'm not running off anytime soon. my goodness, batgirl. aren't you just a sight for sore eyes?" he cuts you off once more, stepping closer to you.

"...what?" you say with a dumbfounded tone, looking at him incredulously.

the two of you often laughed about the way you had met - the circumstances were a little odd, sure, but that just made the whole story of how you met even cuter. jonathan was never one to be so straight forward - until he met you. and you weren't one to fall so easily for a man, but that was before jonathan was in the picture. after your chance encounter with one another, you kept running into each other.

each time, you would threaten him, and he would flirt with you in retaliation. you'd tell him you had him corned for real this time, and he'd tell you that he had no complaints - he once said if you killed him then and there, he'd "die a happy man." the whole back and forth of you aggressively threatening him while he flirted with you went on for months, but eventually you cracked.

you didn't want to cave in, but once you saw what he looked like under that mask, you were folding like a goddamn lawn chair. the second you pulled the scarecrow mask off of his face, your jaw dropped. he was so attractive - and of course, he felt the same way from the moment he saw you. within a minute of the mask being pulled off his head, you were tangled up in his arms as he backed you into a wall, kissing you feverishly.

at first, there wasn’t a title to your “relationship,” but neither of you could give each other up. he needed you and you needed him. that was that. one night, as the two of you met up in secret once more, he asked you on a proper dinner date - which you agreed to, of course. it was romantic; he took you to a gorgeous, high-end restaurant that was classy and very...him. that same night, something shifted in the dynamic you two shared. it wasn’t just scarecrow and batgirl anymore - it was two people who were falling hopelessly in love.

from then on, the two of you were head over heels for one another, but both of you agreed to keep it a secret. when the sun was out during the day, you two were a normal couple; happily in love and holding hands as you walked down the streets of gotham. but by nightfall, you were strangers, no - enemies. it helped that nobody knew your alter egos, so during the day you two could be happily in love. but it was also a hassle to have to sneak around like two teenagers in love when the night crawled around.

his accomplices and the gotham rogues of the city couldn’t know that he was in love with batgirl, and you couldn’t have your accomplices or worse, bruce wayne, finding out you were devoted to the one person you shouldn’t be devoted to. i mean, it was past just a fling at this point.

it was love.

you two shared an apartment together (and a dog!). it was commitment at its finest. at first, the whole secret keeping and hush hush of it all was a little thrilling, but over time it got tiring. why couldn’t you just be happy? why did it have to be this way? you didn’t want to hide it anymore.

as you stood in the empty parkade with jonathan, you suggested an idea that you had been thinking about for a while now.

“why don’t we just run away?” you ask softly, coming back to reality as you looked up at the man who you adored dearly.

“what, like right now?” he asked, watching you through the scarecrow mask.

“what’s stopping us?” you asked before answering your own question, “well, your job actually. never mind, i’m being irrational.”

“i could find a job as a psychiatrist practically anywhere,” he shrugged, “there’s a shortage of doctors in every city.”

“that is true,” you say back, and his hand gripped your waist tighter now, “but what about my schooling?”

“you can transfer, can’t you?” he asked casually.

“…well, yeah.” you say with a small chuckle. you were surprised he wasn’t opposed to such a reckless decision, he was usually the rational one. “i just thought you wouldn’t be so…i dunno, okay with it, i guess.”

“don’t you know how much i love you, moonlight?”

moonlight.

that was his nickname for you. something about it was so saccharine, so sweet but so fitting at the same time. jonathan thought it suited you perfectly because you were his moonlight. beautiful but sensual. your love was magnetic and addictive - magical, almost. just like how the moon brought a sense of calm and comfort to many, you brought a sense of calm and comfort to jonathan.

“you know i love you just as much,” you say softly, intertwining your hands with his, “the most, actually.”

“impossible,” he scoffs playfully, "...let’s runaway. leave our lives behind.”

you smile sweetly at jonathan, a love drunk expression painted on your face - he was truly the only man you had eyes for. “and abandon our…hobbies?” you ask softly.

“i’m willing to leave it all behind,” he nods, “as long as it means i get to have forever with you.”

for a moment, you thought you were going to cry from his sentimental confession. you thought there must’ve been something in the air tonight, but he was also never short of showing you all his love and affection. you stared up at him speechlessly as tears welled in your eyes from the romantic moment shared between the two of you. just two lost souls tailor made for each other.

“moonlight,” he whispered, “you and me, forever.”

“you and i, forever.” you whisper back, and he kissed you softly.

after breaking apart from the kiss, the two of you head back to your shared apartment. neither of you slept that night, and jonathan took the following day off of work. together, you spent the next twenty four hours searching for a new home far, far away. next came the plane tickets, and suddenly, you had bags on top of bags stacked in the departure gate.

“i can’t believe you quit your job for this.” you laugh softly, leaning your head against his shoulder as the two of you lined up to board the plane. “and your…side hustle.”

“i have a new job waiting for me in florida,” he said softly, kissing the top of your head, “and you have your new university waiting for you.”

“this is true.”

the flight was uneventful, you fell asleep on him and he had awoken you when the plane landed. the following week went by in a blur, the two of you moved into your new beach front properly in key biscayne. only fifteen minutes away from miami, it was convenient for jonathan to get to his new job, and close for you to drive to your new university where you continued your studies.

he’d given up being scarecrow, and you’d given up being batgirl.

the two of you disappeared without a trace, and all that you left behind was a note on both your behalves saying you were leaving forever, and that you didn’t want to be found.

“this place is so beautiful. i’m so glad we’re out of gotham, i was getting sick of that city.” you say softly, crawling into bed wearing nothing but your lacy, silk slip.

jonathan opens his arms for you - an invitation to come cuddle, and you gladly accept. “i know,” he whispers, “it’s like paradise. but anywhere is paradise with you, moonlight.”

“you softie.” you giggle, as he started to pepper kisses down your neck, making you shiver.

“i love you,” he whispered against your neck, nipping softly at the delicate skin, “let me show you how much i love you.”

you agreed to it, feeling needier than ever. the warm, summer breeze blew through the half-open sliding door of your balcony. the night was young, and the waves crashed over the shoreline softly as the moon hanging high with the stars illuminated your dark bedroom. it was like something out a romance novel - secluded and romantic.

“moving here was the best decision i’ve ever made,” he said softly, slowly slipping the straps of your lace off of you, “i’d do anything for you - but i think you know that, don't you?”

“please, baby,” you whisper, letting him undress you sensually, “i’m forever yours. my heart is in your hands.”

“i think this is what heaven on earth feels like,” he decides, laying himself down between your legs as he slowly started to drag your matching, lacy panties down, “you’re my favourite.”

before you could spew out any more romantic, poetic nonsense, his face was buried between your legs. a soft gasp left your lips, and your back arched instantly as he licked a long, fat stripe up your folds. the only two sounds to be heard in that room was your wetness as he lapped up your soaking cunt, and the waves crashing onto the shore. two sides of the same coin, in an odd but beautiful way.

perhaps jonathan was right - this did feel like heaven on earth.

finally, no more hiding. no more pretending. no more double life. the night was yours, and you allowed it to take you over. for once, you could scream his name all you wanted into the darkness. you were letting him devour you the way you so desperately wanted him to every single time you’d see him prowling around the streets of gotham. every single time you had to pretend he was a stranger.

but jonathan wasn’t a stranger - he was yours.

the feeling of his tongue on your cunt, licking and nipping softly, caused you to moan out his name softly. he continued to leave teasing little kisses all over your soaking pussy, and when he ate you out like a starved man, your legs were starting to shake.

“oh my god,” you gasp, “i-i’m close.”

“you’re divine.” he mused against your cunt as he continued to eat you out skillfully, his tongue reaching all the right places.

all you could get out were breathless moans and cries before you were creaming on his face, and he didn’t stop. he kept licking, nipping, and kissing every part of your pretty pussy until you had to physically push his head away from your slick coated thighs and trembling legs.

“i could eat you out forever,” he sighs, looking down at you as he started to pull his plaid pyjama pants down, “you taste so sweet, like candy.”

you blush and roll your eyes playfully at his comment, trying to ignore the way it went straight to your head. he pushed you back onto the pillows of the bed softly, and lined his throbbing cock up with your slick folds. you both let out breathless moans when he bottomed out inside of you, and your hands reach up to his shoulders as he started to thrust himself in and out of you.

the stretch was intoxicating, and it felt like his cock was made for your cunt. as the head of his cock continued to brush up against that spongy spot inside of you, your eyes started to roll back into your head from the immense pleasure your boyfriend was giving you right now. your plush walls clenched down on his veiny cock, and both of you were losing yourself in a mixture of moans and overwhelming pleasure.

"you feel brand new every time i fuck you," he said lowly, "jesus - fuck, you feel so good."

his praise had your cheeks burning, but it also had your toes curling and your dripping core clenching on him. as you attempted to look straight into his eyes, you found yourself getting lost in the pools of his icy blue irises. it was almost like he brought you clarity. actually, scratch that - he did bring you clarity.

"i'm, mm, a-already close," you moan as he looked down at you hungrily, "f-fuck, so deep."

he brought your legs up over his shoulder swiftly, pounding your cunt at a deeper angle now. you swore for a minute you were seeing stars as he plowed himself in and out of your slick walls, and you were starting to feel absolutely, positively cockdrunk.

"beautiful," he spoke lovingly, his tone both sweet and saccharine, "cum for me."

the band in your lower stomach snapped as he spoke so softly to you, and your pussy tightened up around his fat cock, causing him to groan at the feeling. your eyes rolled back once more as your legs were trembling over his shoulders, and his name was falling from your lips like you were worshipping him. you did worship him - he was your god.

"thaaaat's it," he groaned, "i need- fuck- i need to fill you up. i need to watch my cum drip out of your pretty pussy."

his words were starting to drive you insane. if you hadn't already lost touch with reality after that heart-stopping orgasm he just gave you, you sure were now.

"please f-fill me up, p-pleeeeease," you begged, whining towards the end of your sentence as your mind started to go blank with the way he was fucking your tight, soaking hole. "i love y-ou, jon-"

as he watched your face twist in pleasure, he couldn't believe how pretty you looked all fucked out from him. your staggered, broken, breathless pleas had his cock twitching. finally, as you told him you loved him, he couldn't hold himself back from filling you up any longer. he almost whispered as his cum spilled into you, painting your walls white as he let every last drop of his seed fill you.

his hips stilled, and your eyes fluttered open as the room went quiet. the only sounds to be heard was the heavy breathing coming from both of you. jonathan smiled sweetly at you, letting out a content sigh before pulling himself out of you gently. you winced slightly at the feeling, but he welcomed you with open arms as you snuggled into his embrace.

quietly, you listened to the splashing water on the shoreline outside of your balcony. the waves were calm today, and the night was warm. the palm trees that surrounded your small, secluded home on the beach brought a sense of tranquility. the both of you let the silence between the bliss linger for a moment longer before jonathan spoke up softly.

"i love you, moonlight." he whispered softly, playing with your hair.

truth be told, jonathan didn't think he could fall any deeper for you than he already had. he just couldn't stop; everything about you made the usually reserved and rather cold ex-con turn soft. you were his night sky, stars, planets and everything in between.

jonathan never knew that he could have moonlight in his hands - until the night he held you.

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cherrrydragon · 6 months ago

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➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER THREE: DEBUT

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ School's in, and so is Spinnerette. Unfortunately that spidey luck doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. Must be a canon in every universe. Crouching off the ledge of the building, you prep yourself. “Back to the ole grind, K.” and then you fly. Leaping off the building, you feel the rush of wind call you. You flick your wrist, sending a web at the nearest building. You swing forward in a graceful arc, flipping and twirling. Each swing makes you faster and sends you higher. You grin under your mask and let out a whoop. “We are so back!” pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: hostage situations, mugging attempts, guns wc: 4.3k

You’re irrational in your worry to don the suit. You know logically the battery can last you months, but it might take months to build a nanite chamber. You don’t even want to spend months in this dimension.

Your makeshift nanite chamber is horrific at best. The cord management breaks several lab safety rules. The amalgamation of cables is tucked away in your closet. You haven’t tried to use it yet because you’re absolutely certain it might cause a city-wide power outage.

Tonight, though, you’ll finally introduce Gotham to Spinnerette.

You won’t patrol in East End, Catwoman’s got that covered. You’re not dumb enough to mess around in her territory. You plan on swinging by Crime Alley and the Narrows, two of the worst parts of Gotham. If you find any of the Bats, you’ll just use your totally awesome charm and super duper hero skills to wiggle your way out of their watch. Hopefully.

You take a deep breath, the suit breathing with you. Gotham is so different from your New York. Your home, the “City that Never Sleeps”, is true to its name. The city becomes so much more alive at night, so much more colorful. You’ve seen many New Yorks and its variants, and you’ve never seen one so… lifeless… like Gotham. In all fairness, Gotham is Gotham and not New York.

You sniff, rolling back your shoulders. “How are things looking, K?”

“My forecast predicts rain to hit in 2 hours. Temperature is 74॰, wind speeds are optimal for swinging. I have intercepted police reports nearby about a hostage situation, shall I optimize a route, [Name]?”

Crouching off the ledge of the building, you prep yourself. “Back to the ole grind, K.” and then you fly. Leaping off the building, you feel the rush of wind call you. You flick your wrist, sending a web at the nearest building. You swing forward in a graceful arc, flipping and twirling. Each swing makes you faster and sends you higher. You grin under your mask and let out a whoop.

“We are so back!”

You tuck your knees to your chest, avoiding a billboard. Below you traffic roars. You perform a dance in the sky, swinging from building to building. You feel that familiar adrenaline returning, a reminder of who you are. The weight of responsibility is momentarily forgotten, replaced by sheer freedom.

You flip one last time in the air, landing in a crouch at your destination. You look over the edge. It’s just one guy waving his gun around madly. In his grasp is a child.

“I’ll fucking shoot, I swear! Get me my money right fucking now!” He’s panicked and desperate, which means he’s trigger happy. Normally you’d defuse the situation the best you can, but now? You have the element of surprise. You’ll act quickly.

You send a web and yank the gun out of his hands, then send another web, hauling the man up to you. You web his mouth shut, fisting his shirt and making him face you. His eyes are fearful, but you can’t think of anything to say. You look over to the tense faces of the police. Among them is Jim Gordon. You know he can’t see you, but he’s looking right at you.

You huff, lowering the man. You wrap him up in your webs with familiar ease, like a real spider saving its prey for later. He yelps as he’s dropped and yanked back up, the cops pointing their guns in his direction. The kid from earlier is safe behind Commissioner Gordon, letting you know your job here is done. The only sound they hear is the thwip of your web as you swing away.

“I’d say that went well. Enough,” you blurt into the silence as you’re swinging.

“Certainly, [Name].” You’ve never been able to tell when Karen uses sarcasm, and you suspect you never will.

Over there! In there! Help!

You swerve to your right, barrelling into an alley. You crawl alongside the wall, slowing down when you hear voices.

“Please, I don’t have any money on me!” A woman cries, hands in the air. “Please, please don’t do this. I-I have a son!”

She’s face to face with the barrel of a gun. “I-I don’t give a fuck! I ain’t stupid either. I see them earrings. Cost a pretty buck, I’m sure. Just give me all ya money, and we can both go our ways.”

The gun in his hands is shaking and his voice is wavering. He’s just as nervous as the woman is.

“His name is Garrett Fields. He recently lost a custody battle for his child to his ex-wife. He spent his last dollars fighting for his daughter.”

You purse your lips. One of your least favorite realizations as you got older was how gray the world is. This guy fought for his daughter till the very end, and look where it got him. It doesn’t excuse his actions, but it does explain them.

You approach him from behind silently. You put a finger to your mask when the lady’s eyes flick over his shoulder. Claws dig into his arm as it’s wretched back and the gun is yanked out of his hands. You face the woman.

“Go.” Your voice is distorted thanks to the suit. She doesn’t need to hear anything else before she bolts out of the alley. You make sure Garrett can see it when you crush the gun in your grip. He whimpers.

“What’s up, Garrett.”

He struggles in your grip. “You with the Bats or somethin’?” He asks hysterically.

“Nah,” you wave. “Trust me, though. You’d rather deal with me.” You drop him against the concrete. You rock back and forth on your heels. “So, sorry to hear about the daughter.” You pull up a virtual interface of her face and show it to him. “She’s pretty cute.”

Garrett goes misty-eyed almost immediately. “Emma…”

You kneel in front of him. “Lemme ask you something, Gar.” Despite the mask blocking his view, Garfield shudders when he makes eye-contact.

“Have you killed or otherwise hurt anyone before this? I’ll know if you’re lying.”

There’s a tear rolling down his face. He’s got anger and sadness in his eyes. You see the fruits of Gotham’s influence weighing down on him. You’re once again reminded that some things are just out of your power. Hurt people, hurt people.

“No,” he grumbles out. He’s not lying.

“Alrighty,” you clap your hands, huffing when he flinches at the clink sound your claws make. “Listen, I know. Times are tough, you’re flat broke. That gun didn’t even have any bullets in it.” He scoffs. “There’s this cafe in East End. Owner’s feisty, but real understanding. I got somebody called [Name] that can vouch for you. We’ll get you set up.”

Garrett scowls at you. “Fuck off. I don’t want your goddamn pity.”

You wave your hands frantically, sitting down next to him. “It’s not pity at all. Understanding. I gotta look out for my little guys. The people who get overlooked or judged too quickly.” You pat his shoulder. “You didn’t kill anybody, so I got you, man.”

Garrett stares at you in visible disbelief. “I’m sending you a couple hundred bucks directly to your bank account. Don’t worry, I stole them from rich people,” you drawl.

He can’t do anything else but chuckle. “You’re fuckin’ crazy.”

You hum. “At least I ain’t Batman. He would’ve put your ass in Arkham.”

“At least with Batman I can guarantee I’ll be alive by the end of it.”

You scoff indignantly. “I wouldn’t have killed you!”

He grunts. “Don’t mean you don’t kill in general.”

You shrug, ignoring his side-eye when you don’t deny it. Sighing, you stand up, stretching. “In return for my endless kindness–” Garrett squints in suspicion and rolls his eyes. “–I just need one simple favor.”

“Of course,” he scoffs out.

“Don’t be like that, I just need you to spread the word.”

“The word?”

“Tell people that a giant spider was around webbing up criminals.” Garrett blinks. “It’ll be funny,” is your only explanation.”

You turn and send a web away in preparation to swing away, smiling at his surprised sputter. “My actual name is Spinnerette.” Facing him one last time. “I don’t mind if you call me Spinner, though.”

Your final parting words are “It’s not the end of the world, friend. Keep looking up.”

“News of a ‘Giant Spider’ Webbing Up Criminals in Gotham! A Good Sign or Not?”

“Giant Spider Makes Home in Gotham City.”

“New Threat in Gotham – How to Stay Safe.”

Bruce Wayne rubs his face in exhaustion. Since last night, many articles have sprung up about this ‘spider’ tying up no-gooders in an actual web-like substance. He couldn’t take a sample for himself, it was far too sticky. But he received word from Gordon that he himself had had a run in with the spider.

“It was definitely human-shaped.” He had gruffed out, “The web dissolved after an hour.”

So there’s a new meta in Gotham acting as a spider. And as a vigilante. Bruce can respect delivering justice, and it doesn’t look like they’ve killed anyone. Even so, he can admit he has control issues (maybe not out loud, though), and an unknown variable puts him on edge.

For now though, Bruce has other things to focus on. “What were you saying, Barbara?”

“Somebody got a perfect score on the entrance exam for GA.”

His brows raise. “And who would that be?”

“Some kid named [Name] Stark. I knew you were gonna ask, so I looked into them. It’s kind of weird, their father’s name is Tony Stark, dude’s loaded. He’s an avid traveler, but nothing seems amiss. [Name] is living on their own in East End, working at ‘Carrie’s Cafe’ and getting sporadic payments from her father. Wonder why the hell they’d choose to live in Gotham of all places.”

His eyebrows furrow. “They’re living on their own?”

Barbara scoffs over the call. “They’re 18, don’t get any ideas. I guess they flunked a grade or something, or maybe it’s a late birthday. They just seem like strange people to me.”

Bruce hums, satisfied. “We’ll give them the scholarship, of course. I’ll address the letter personally. And we’ll give them a stipend, as well.”

“Their dad’s rich.”

“That means nothing to me.”

You chuckle mischievously at the headlines. You’ve been cracking up the whole morning about them. You’ll thank Garrett when you next see him as Spinner.

“A successful debut, if I do say so myself, [Name],” Karen pipes up in your ear. Nari meows in your lap. He’s become a faithful companion (read: cuddle partner) in exchange for food. He’s got a good mindset.

Sam’s at the cafe early for once. They give you a smile as you enter. “I was worried that big ass spider got you.”

“And why would it get me, specifically?” you ask as you put on an apron.

“I know you’re an evil freak from the way you have your coffee,” they scoff.

You stick out your tongue at them. “Nothing wrong with my death brew.” Your preferred coffee is known among the staff for its near poisonous potency. You don’t tell anyone the recipe, because you’re kind of afraid it actually is poisonous for normal people. It did it's job in keeping you awake back in the day when patrol ran late.

Carrie walks out, calling for you. She tells Sam to go handle the register, an obvious sign that she needs to talk to you alone. Sam gives you a look as they walk off. Garret Fields is waiting for you in the back.

“I’ll keep it brief so you can get back to work. He’s tryna get a job and said you can vouch for him?” Carrieis suspicion isn’t hidden. Garrent isn’t the same man from the night before. His posture curves in on itself and his eyes are tired. It’s as if he’s already resigned himself to the worst outcome.

You nod, fast. “He’s a friend. It’s a tough time right now, and he really needs a job.” Garrett’s staring at you. “I promise he’s a good egg.”

Carrie ‘uh-huhs’ but lets it go. “Good enough for me,” she pats his shoulder, hard. “I’ll go get the paperwork, then.” And she’s gone, leaving you with Garrett.

“Understanding, right?” you say, quoting yourself from last night.”

“No kidding,” Garrett huffs, before staring at you again. “Thank you. Both of you.”

You raise a brow. “No questions, you sure?”

“Something about a horse gift and a mouth,” he rumbles. “Y’all got me a job, I owe ya.”

“Don’t sweat it,” you wave him off. “Spinner’s in the helping people business, a.k.a, the hero business. They don’t do it to be owed. They’re looking out for people like us.”

“The.. little guys?”

You nod sagely. “You get it.”

He sighs, simultaneously grateful and regretful. “Thank you,” he says once more.

Garrett settles in nicely the next week. He’s got that southerness that charms people into leaving tips, and he knows how to use it.

“Say oil.”

“No.”

Sam likes him well enough, so that makes him a-okay in your books.

“Big day tomorrow, how are we feeling?” Sam asks during closing time. Tomorrow marks your first day at GA. Karen strongly suggested not patrolling on the basis of getting a good night’s sleep, and you’re more keen to follow her advice in this universe.

“What’s tomorrow?” Gar, pipes from the back.

“Our little scholar got a full ride to GA, signed by the big man himself. Ain’t that right?” Sam is getting good at imitating Gar’s accent.

Getting accepted into GA wasn't a surprise. The surprise was the nature of the letter itself.

“Dear [Name] Stark,

I am delighted to inform you that you have been accepted into Gotham Academy under the Martha and Thomas Wayne scholarship! GA looks forward to seeing you grow.

It is also with great pride that I am able to inform you myself that you have scored perfect on the entrance exam, and are the first in history to do so. You’ll be awarded with a stipend of $500 every two weeks.

I look forward to seeing you overcome challenges and become a part of our community.

Signed,

Bruce Wayne.”

You should've been paying more attention to the answers you were putting down. You had been on autopilot when taking the test, and now Bruce Wayne himself knows about you. To add more insult to injury, you're the first person ever to get a perfect score. You just hope scores aren't available for others to see. You can't imagine the type of vultures that await you if that's the case. At least you can stop stealing from gullible rich people now.

“The hell you doin’ runnin’ with folks like them?” Gar is far more subtle in showing his dislike for Gothams’ elite, but not that subtle.

“Oh, goodie. There's two of you,” you chuckle. You untie your apron. “Uh, for one, it'll look good for me. Two, it'll be easy stuff. And three,” you pause. You can't say you need access to the lab and its funds so you can create a dimensional portal so you say, “and I'm trying to find my rich future spouse.”

Sam cackles, slapping your shoulders. “I've trained you well.”

Gar raises a brow. “Easy? They got college level stuff in that school and you find that easy?”

“They do my work for me sometimes,” Sam states, ignoring Gar's incredulous look.

“Shit, kid. You’re going places.”

You cheekily smile. “I’ll be sure to put you in a nice nursing home.”

You dodge the leftover pastry he throws at you.

You take a bunch of pictures of Nari in the morning when you find him sleeping beside your head. The school uniform is your average private school get-up. You forgo the loafers in exchange for some converse instead. Something about doing your own thing.

Taking the subway reminds you of the late nights of messing around in the empty station with your friends.

“It’s crooked!

“It’s not!”

“It’s definitely crooked.”

The five of you should definitely not be here right now, but teenagers will be teenagers. You showed the gang a spot you found earlier where Miles could spray-paint to his heart's desire. Gwen insists it’s crooked, despite the picture having no defined shape. Miles’ is insisting he knows what he’s doing and Pav is taking a million selfies.

You and Hobie are leaned against a back wall, observing.

“I think I like this.”

Hobie hums, tilting his head to hear you better. “It’s not really talked about, but I know most of us–” you gesture to the trio. “–Spiders have to grow up fast, or don’t really get to grow up at all. I like giving them the chance to be kids.”

You and Hobie are a bit older than the kids. When something happens they turn to you first for answers.

“We gotta… break that generational trauma, or something.”

Hobie chuckles. “I see what you’re saying.”

When Miles is done, he shows you an image of a figure outlined multiple times, showing multiple identities.

You blink when the speakers crackle to life to announce you’ve reached your destination. It’s a short walk to the grounds of GA. Karen is playing ‘calming’ music in your ear. The school feels much more alive now that there are people chatting here and there.

Some people look at you as you walk by, but they’re mostly looking at your shoes. Hopefully the school doesn’t care enough to say something about it. It takes a little longer than it should to find the front desk, but the school is huge so you think you’re allowed some slack. Your schedule has all advanced core classes, Engineering, Ballet, Computer Programming, and Studio Art. Looks like you’ll be starting all your weekdays with Advanced English Lit from now on.

The class is empty when you walk in, and you scurry to the back immediately. You’ve always preferred to see everything happening in the classroom, even before the bite. People fill in slowly, taking up seats randomly. That familiar anxiety comes creeping back in. You tell yourself in your head that everything is fine, but the weight of your situation has been piling up on you. You can pretend everything is fine and that you’re totally okay with being stranded in another universe. You can pretend like you belong, going about your day like a normal person, but that’s all you are. A pretender.

You begin biting your nail. Somebody sits down next to you, and a quiet snap is what you hear. There’s blood crawling down your finger. You bit too much off.

A woman comes into the classroom. She’s got that look about her that says she hates her job, and you get it. Her voice comes out gnarly. “Good morning, class. I hope you’re all settling in comfortably.” You don’t need Nat’s teachings to tell that she’s lying. “My name is Ms. Varley, I’ll be your teacher for the next school year. We’re going to start with some introductions.” The class groans. Ms. Varley tuts. “None of that complaining mess. We’ll start with you.” She points at a poor unfortunate soul.

You zone out as introductions go on. Your ears are filled with snooty accents and proper tones. Most kids talk about what they’re the heir to, barf. Someone mentions how many vacation homes they have.

You stand up when it’s your turn. “[Name] Stark. I like ballet and hot pink,” you pause, thinking of what you can say that’ll make them turn their nose up at you. “I like spiders.”

Predictably, faces of disgust are sent your way. You grin and sit down. Your seat-mate stands up in turn. You’re more occupied with staring head on at the few eyes that are still on you.

“I am Damian Wayne. I am the blood-heir of Bruce Wayne and I have a keen interest in the arts.”

You do your best not to scream. Of course. Of course! You’re convinced this universe has sentience and is belly-laughing at you right now. And he sits right next to you! Why did he choose to sit next to you? There’s an empty pair of desks right over there! God forbid you can just be left alone.

Damian sits down after his brief introduction, you suspect his peers are used to it, if the knowing smiles and head shakes are anything to go by. You sigh and slump down in your seat. You risk a glance at him and will yourself not to jump when you see he is already looking at you.

You feign nonchalance and raise a brow. “Take a picture.”

“You’re not nearly enough of a sight for that.” You bark out a laugh in surprise at the quickness in his answer. Typical.

“Ouch, my feelings.”

“I know you got a perfect score on the exam.” There it is. The bomb. The reason he sat next to you. So, he’s suspicious of you? Great, awesome.

“Yeah, your daddy himself signed my letter. What, you a fan or something? I know I’m pretty awesome.” You’re not sure what you’re trying to achieve with this act, but you can’t really seem to think straight right now.

“I have my suspicions.”

“That I cheated?”

“Perhaps.”

“It’s not a good idea to monologue your evil plans. Why do you care if I did anyway? You know half of these trust fund babies wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for mommy and daddy’s money, right?”

He scoffs. “That much is obvious. And I don’t care if you cheated or not. You wouldn’t be the first.”

“So, what? You jealous that I'm so much better than you? I know, it’s hard to cope.”

His eye-roll is violent. “Wait, I know,” you interrupt when he opens his mouth. “You’re worried I’m a super secret spy working for, like, the Joker or something and that I’m endangering the lives of all the students. You’ve always had dreams of being Robin and kicking ass with Batman so this must be your chance to prove yourself.” What do they say about freudian slips? “How right am I?”

You’re certain his suspicion runs deeper than that, but hopefully your spiel gets him off your ass for a while. He won’t want your (joking) suspicions about Robin to fester and have you realize he actually is Robin, so he’ll let it die.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s one of my better qualities.”

You can feel his eyes on you for the rest of the class. You’d think Robin would be more subtle. The lab for your science class is… fine. Maybe you’re just spoiled from the Tower’s labs. You feel the same when you walk into the computer lab. You should probably start bringing your own laptop to school. The dance studio is cute, though. The teacher is faking a russian accent, but you think you’re the only person who can tell. She only teaches you how to do proper stretches, so at least it seems like she knows her stuff.

Finally, your last period comes down to art class. A chill class to end the day makes you happy. Large windows let the sun cast its rays. You take your seat in the corner. There’s various plants littered around the room, real plants. There’s even fairy lights hanging above. This is definitely going to be your favorite class.

You hum along to the song Karen plays in your ear.

“Harness your hopes on just one person…” you hum.

“Already talking to yourself, I see.”

You look over to where Damian is settling down next to you. “Can’t get enough of me?” You coo.

“On the contrary, I’m already sick of you.”

“Still suspicious of me yet, boy wonder?”

His glare would kill a lesser person. The teacher walks in with a bright and cheery attitude. She’s got that Ms. Frizzle attitude about her that makes you either love her or hate her. You love her.

She sets you all up with your own sketchbooks, high quality ones. You decorate your cover with all the colors of your friends. You draw little coffee cups and pastries in unconventional colors. Big graffiti style letters spell out random phrases. You peek at Damian and see that his notebook just has his name on it, boring.

Ms. M, as she’s allowed you all to call her, begins droning on about color theory and principles and elements and a bunch of other stuff you don’t pay attention to. You count the minutes as you watch the sun slowly set outside the window. You clack your nails together in boredom.

“Hundred bucks for me to moan out loud.”

Damian does a good job of keeping his composure, but you can see the disbelief from your words. He grits out, “Why would I ever pay you to do such a thing?”

“One might feel adventurous on occasion.” You weren’t going to moan even if he did pay you a hundred bucks, you just felt that twitch to say something to dispel the quiet.

You suck in a breath. “So…”

“I have no interest in conversing with you.”

You dramatically whine. “You’re no fun. What does a guy like you even do for fun?”

“It is as I said, I don’t–”

“–wish to converse with me, I know. So, art then? You like to draw?” You lean forward towards him.

“It does not concern you–”

“I think you’re the type of guy to like minimalist art. You’d be the type to find something outta nothing.”

He scoffs, and you know you’ve got him. “Minimalist is the most baseless form of all. The lack of detail is abhorrent and requires no true skill. Classical is far superior, it takes a certain mastery of skill to truly imitate the renaissance–” he pauses. You grin, showing your teeth.

His huff is silenced by your giggles.

notes: i imagine readers NY looking like rottmnt's NY (it's really vibrant and lively-looking if ur too lazy to look it up)

i feel like this chapter is pretty fast paced in the beginning (god forbid i know how to write action sequences) so uh sorry bout that

you've dodged the batfamilys suspicions! for now anyway. except damian ofc. i havent read any dc comics so sorry if dami's ooc.

Nari is short for Narinder, from Cult of the Lamb :D. also, how are we feeling about Gar? when i write him i think about Joel from tlou, and i think im gonna try to channel that as hard as i can lol.

reader was humming "Harness Your Hopes" by Pavement.

bruce when he learns reader is a "teen" living by themself: it's free real estate

#damian wayne x reader #jon kent x reader #dc x reader #robin x reader #superboy x reader

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crow-aeris · 9 months ago

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In honor of mermay, but not related to any prompts:

“I don’t trust that guy,” Jason narrowed his eyes, jabbing a finger at the weird not-human and his half-human son chatting with fully-human Bruce and fully-human Alfred.

“Relax, Jay,” their fully selkie not-human brother drawls with his legs in their giant pool filled with aquarium-grade water, “It’s just Uncle Clark with his son.”

Tim shrugs, “I dunno, they look weird… and smell weird. Cass says theyre- and I quote- really weird, if Cass says they’re weird? Sorry, Dick, they’re weird.”

“So…” Dick puts on a cheshire smile and leans forward, “you can even say they’re Super -weird? Eh? Wha- AUGH!”

Tim yelped, flinging himself out of the pool as Jason lurched forward to yank the selkie into the water. Cass was laughing below the surface, a wide smile on her face as Dick floundered and screeched. Jason had his claws hooked into the selkie’s pants with a bright grin.

“BRUCE!” Dick screeched, the sound of struggle clear within this floor of the manor, and Tim pulls his caudul fin out of the water in disgust, “ALFRED! HELP, I’M- AUAGDHGAGAHDHFPFPSPFGSAGO—”

“What is going on here?” Bruce walked over to examine the scene with an incredulous expression, “Jason, let your brother go!”

The lionfish mer hissed in displeasure, but released the selkie after a stern look from the butler.

“BRUCE!” Dick gasped dramatically, clawing himself onto the floor. His Pelt remained dry, but everything else about Dick was sopping wet. There was even a puddle forming under him.

Tim eyed him warily, flattening his cranial fin as Damian approached with the other half-human, half not-human spawn of the not-human Dick had named “Clark”.

“Grayson, cease you incessant chatter,” Damian huffed before addressing his… “friend”, “Jon, feast your eyes upon our mers.”

The older human walked over while Bruce ranted to Clark about his children’s “dramatics”. Meanwhile, Damian was still talking, “Timothy is a pedigree mer. He is born of a prestigious bloodline, and his scales echo his worth. The previous humans he resided with were not providing him with the proper enrichment a mer of his value should have, and so Father rescued him.”

Tim grimaced at the human’s description before glancing at his red-dappled tail, “Thanks?”

“What do you have to say about me?” Jason swam over and propped himself upon the ledge of the pool with a grin.

Damian sniffed and gave Jason a side-long glare while “Jon” giggled.

“He looks pretty,” the bright boy commented while his… brother(?) hummed.

“I think this guy looks prettier, kinda like a koi.”

Jon examined Tim’s tail before nodding, “Hmm, you’re right!”

Tim frowned, feeling suddenly self conscious at the attention.

Damian sniffed, “Please do not scrutinize Timothy! He is a sensitive mer, and I will not allw you to unsettle him! Jason, on the other hand, is hardier- though I advise you to keep a healthy distance from his spines. His piscine breed is that of a lionfish-”

Jason grins and flashes his fins like the show-off he is.

“-and Father rescued him from an illegal mer trade,” Damian finished.

“What about her down there?” the older half-human asked, peer down at Cass, who popped up to wave and tap Tim’s tail. With a smile, he flicked his tail and artfully drenched the older half-human with the pool water.

“Kon!” the little one exclaimed in shock, and Tim darted away before Bruce coild spot him.

“Jason!” Bruce called again, “We don’t splash guests either!”

“But-!”

“I doesn’t matter if he was annoying, we don’t splash guests!” Bruce sighed in exasperation before returning to his conversation with an amused Clark and an equally entertained Alfred.

Damian continued on with his infodumping, “Cassandra is a mer who escaped from a facility ran by my grandfather, who was trying to create the ultimate weapon for marine warfare.”

“Oh!” Kon blinked in surprise, “That… was not what I was expecting!”

“I kinda feel bad for them,” Jon commented, but Jason waved him off.

“Don’t worry about Cass. If she was in any real danger, she’ll just electrocute you and then rip your throat out!”

“That’s so cool!” Jon chirped eagerly while Kon remained slightly peturbed.

Tim shrugged, “I guess, but it’s kinda… just our lives. Dick has seen so much more of the world than any of us.”

“Maybe, but he’s an asshole,” Jason replied and Cass nodded in agreement. The selkie jerked upright with an affronted gasp and a mock-offended expression.

“Excuse me! I am not an asshole!”

“Mhm, sure not,” Jason countered with a flap of his hand. Before Dick could continue his defense, Bruce approached once more with Clark and Alfred at his side.

The not-human helped Dick to his feet before addressing the two half-human boys, “Alright, boys. It’s getting pretty late, so we should head back to the farm before Ma and Pa worry.”

The boys chorused their agreement before… floating and flying out of the manor? Tim thinks that not-human and his half-human sons were weird.

Bruce took in a breath before kneeling down in front of them, “Okay, kids. I know your thoughts on strangers in the manor-”

Jason interrupted with a flat expression, “If they weren’t kids, then I would’ve stung them.”

Tim huffed as Bruce’s expression tightened, “Okay, I wouldn’t have done something as extreme as Jason, but I really don’t like strangers in the manor… I kinda don’t mind that Kon, though.”

“What?! Tim!” Jason gasped in offense and Tim groans.

“Shut up, Jason! He had shiny things, okay!”

“Timmy has a crush!” Cass teased swimming over to wrap herself around Tim’s torso and drag him underwater. Very wisely, Tim decided it was in his best interest to not fight with the electric eel.

“Ugh, I wish I’d sting him sooner!”

“You will not be stinging anyone,” Bruce admonished, and Tim could hear Jason boo in dissatisfaction before joining Cass and Tim underwater.

“Father, I support Jason’s idea,” Damian chimed in, “we should allow him to sting Timothy’s potential paramore, for Timothy is a regal creature and shall not be paired up with such a thing below his standing!”

Tim groans in exasperation, the sound echoed by Bruce as he thrashed his red-white tail. Suddenly, the water churned and a ringed seal joined them in the pool, his eyes bright with mischief and whimsy.

As Bruce watched his fish (and seal) children tussel together underwater, he pulls Damian close against his side. Alfred rests his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, and the man cannot help but marvel at how far all of them have come since their first introduction into this… messy and patchwork family who now all call the Wayne Manor home…

Bruce could not be happier.

(here’s like, the prequel)

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im-not-buying-it-ether · 5 months ago

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So far the scrapped concepts for Billy Batson week have been

Day 3; Billy visiting the 3 Faces of Evil (Sin, Terror, and Wickedness) to keep them company as a courtesy and then cleaning up the memorial statues of the fallen Council, didn’t get to the part where Billy finds a statue of Ebenezer and Sinclair with his parents to make the point of the Rock as a place of mourning for all the wonders of the world lost (including a champions family)

Day 3; Billy, Freddy and Eugene trying to make their own other-world doorways like Darla did in the Shazam mini comics. Planned to have Billys other-world be reminiscent of the 40’s in a nostalgic way with his family, Freddy’s to be one seafaring adventure after the other with his brother, and Eugene’s would be the fluffy rule breaker of the Rule of Three where his is just the Gamelands where he’s the king. Overall lesson to accept reality over fantasy, no matter how tailor made it was made for yourself

Day 3; Billy exploring the Rock and being put off by its silence and lack of life inside or outside it, wondering outside of it onto its ledges to find the nebula of magic whirling around it and seeing a new side to the beauty of the world

Day 5; Superman POV of the JL:U episode with them in the Justice Lords universe while going through Arkham that holds a lot of lobotomized villians, inspired by my musings of “What if Billy opposed the Lords like he did the Regime at the end of Injustice?” and that led to the scene of Superman recognizing the kid sluggishly kicking a ball back and forth between himself and a fellow lobotomized Baby Dahl.

Day 6; Billy and Mary graduating

Day 6; Billy in his capacity as a reporter trying to avoid the terrifying idea of getting pulled into the Wayne/Bat family while at a party for a Wayne/Sivana merger with Magnificus

Day 7; A seemingly normal meet up of Super-Parents to have a less stressful outing with their kids interacting while they talk about raising sidekicks/partners in crime fighting/kids with powers only for Marvel to join the fray for the first time with a Baby Marvel on the hip

None of these are the ones I plan to post, just the other avenues I did have that probably aren’t getting finished after I typed anywhere between 100-1,000 words on em. The only unwritten scrapped idea is CeCe popping in from the 90th century by accident among other successors to other heroes mantels like Terry or Jon with only one of them speaking English that’s 7,000 years off the mark

#honestly might finish and post some of them independently #but these are the scraps for now #looking back I am just a fan of angst arent i?#man…#Billy doesn’t deserve what I do to him #shazam #billy batson #dc

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deforest · 4 months ago

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imagine this. imagine you have lost all hope and are ready to kill yourself, are in fact seconds from killing yourself, and jon bon jovi appears to talk you off a ledge

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verisimmy · 5 months ago

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Nervous: Woah! Nice try! But I-I'm prepared for your e-every trick!

Olive: Oh really? Are you prepared for TOMBSTONE BOOMERANG?

Nervous: Aaaah!

#bma:day1 #big mummy challenge #the sims 3 challenge #the sims 3 #sims 3 #ts3 #jon ledge #mildred godman #simekken

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leothil · 1 month ago

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Well, I guess we know where they got the inspiration for Brad's big scene in 8x08 from!

#911 #maybe it does make a difference if we make it or not...

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writingwrongwjc · 4 days ago

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Give Me Your Command

Jon Snow X (fem!) Reader

Disclaimers: I do not edit my writings on here, possible grammatical errors. I am new to the fandom, only seen the show (to season 5), and this IS TV Jon I know book Jon is different!

Warning: Smut!!, oral(fem receiving)

For reasons unknown to the rest of the brother you had rode to castle black seeking refudge weeks prior. Since Gilly had already been staying there long before you, you were allowed to stay; given you’d help out with “the womens chores”. The cooking and cleaning they meant. It didn’t bother you much, although you were raised a proper Lady by a prominent family.

Before the world revealed itself so complicated you were even meant to marry the edlest Stark boy but truth be told you had eyes for his bastard brother.

On this day Jon was elected as new Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. He was proud of course but not exactly excited you could tell. Why would he be, you thought. It’s a thankless task and yet another reason the two of you couldn’t be together. You knew from the day he left for the Night’s Watch you’d have to get over your little crush on Jon Snow, but even still you heart longed for what you can’t have. Not in the light of day anyway. When the settled beneath the gleaming snow you snuck from you and Gilly’s shared quarters to his Jons keep across the way; expecting him to be curled up beneath the thick furs on his bed. When you approached the door you noticed the flickering light of candles behind the door. Standing there quietly you pressed your ear to the door to listen for voices. When only the soft crackle of the candles woven wicks could be heard, you opened the door with a quiet swiftness. Jon sat at his desk so entrenched in his work that he had not yet noticed you. You couldn't help but admire his frustrated features in the warm glow. The way his brows furrowed together without force, the way he pouted his lower lip while he thought, jaw clenched tight, and his thick mess of curls draped around his face. Twisting your thoughts deep into their darkness you imagine yourself tugging at his mess of hair, parchment scattered across the floor, ink spilling down the desk. Only for a second you thought about what it could be like to have him as yours and yours alone.

“Seven hells Y/N… It’s late.” He said seconds after you walked in noticing your sudden presence.

You let out a soft chuckle at his schock “Who knew the Lord Commander could be so afraid of a Lady.”

“You only startled me! I expected you’d be sleeping my Lady”

“And I expected the same of you, Lord Commander Snow.” You say coyly.

“Well being Lord Commander is a lot of work, I haven’t got time to rest when I’ve got crows coming for the south, the southeast, the west. I’ve got to find more men, keep the ones I do have from killing eachother.” Jon spits out all at once. “Sorry you don’t wanna here all of that.”

“You’re under a ton of pressure I understand, but I don’t think anyone else is more fit for the job.”

He relaxes his gaze up at you the moment the reassurance leaves your lips, halfway searching for something else to say halfway letting himself enjoy the silence.

“There is one bad thing about it though, you really ought to take your vows seriously now? No more playing around with ‘wildling whores’.” You bring this up not so much to tease Jon about his alleged past relationship with a widling girl but to tease the other men for being so focused on it that they haven’t caught on in the slightest to you and Jon’s flirting

He laughs at the thought, contemplating his next words carefully, not exactly sure if he should say what he's thinking. Then his face straightens itself out, his deep brown eyes filling with lust.

“Technically, our vow is only to take no wife and bear no children.”

“What are you saying, my Lord?” you inch closer to the desk in anticipation.

“It’s Lord Commander, my Lady.” He says, standing from his chair walking around to the front side resting against the ledge and crossing his arms, looking down at you.

“Then give your command, Lord Commander, and I shall do it.” You reach out to him resting your hands on the cool leather taught against his chest. Gliding your hands across his chest until his shoulder rest comfortably in one hand and chin in the other.

Steading his breath he looks you in your eyes, unable to utter a single word. Between your bold words and body pressed right up against his he could hardly think of a command to give.

Instead, he crashed his lips into your own with a light grasp on the small of your back not yet working up the courage to pull your hips into his; although you could tell he desperately wanted to. With his “command” you took lead working your hands down his body as your tongues danced circles and pulling his hands onto your butt guiding him into a firm grasp. Allowing time to feel the comfort of eachothers bodies before moving further Jon took to kissing your jawline gently tilting your head upward by placing his hand loosely on the base of your neck. And then releasing you all together looking you in the eyes for reassurance and as reassurance you unlace your top sliding off your dressing gown, the thick wool and silk fabric bundling up at your feet.

With finesse Jon slides his warm hand onto your breast taking your hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging with little force. Continuing to kiss you steadily, this time more eager to take lead. Just before your lips meet again a quiet moan escapes your lips, swallowed up quickly when he locks his lips onto yours.

“Make me yours Jon Snow.” you whisper, panting for air. He lifts you up with little effort lying you with care onto the desk, the edge just at the bend of your knees. Although, he doesn’t let your legs dangle free for long. He kisses a trail down your body lingering over your breast, sucking on your tender nipple while he grips your other breast in his hands. Continuing on down your abdomen just as quickly as his mouth arrived to your nipple, And in a haze the next thing you know his warm tongue is attached to your center. Your breath races to escape your lungs but your throat is not so eager to let it, resulting in a high pitched whine. As Jon dines on your pussy like he’s never eaten a day in his life you can’t help but to brush your fingers into his messy curls, begging for more with both your hands and your hips. You can feel it, the pressure rising. Grinding against his face with everything in you, and doing your best not to scream out.

“Jon…just… like that.” you moan loudly, bucking your hips, gripping his hair tighter. Startled by your noise he slows down his movements for only a second. Not too long to take you back from the edge. You’re unable to hold back the noise anylonger panting, and moaning, whining out for more.

He come up from between your legs his lips and bead soaked in all of your juices.

“Like honey.” he says with a soft smirk lifting you back up so youre sitting on the edge of the desk now. Bringing you in close kissing you, first on the forehead, then again on the lips and, cupping your head in his hands as he does so. Holding you close as your breathing steadies itself once again.

“I have work to do.”

“It can wait fifteen more minutes right?”

“No but I’m sure you can, that bed is quite soft. He said with with a toothy grin, nodding his head toward the bed that Ghost lay at the foot of.

“Not a minute more, I’ll freeze to death. On your watch.”

Truthfully Jon Snow had finished his duties for the night long before you had even come in but he sat contemplating his future. So when he returned to his work he only sat at his desk worried one of his brothers may have heard your cries of pleasure. Debating on whether or not he should let himself have relese or just be satisfied in yours.

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