#like maybe you can just find another joke...

[bluzebub19]

I have a request for how the Arcane characters (Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Heimerdinger, Ekko) look so that the reader can access their cuteness. Maybe they are doing or saying something to the reader and the reader suddenly starts hugging and petting them, calling them cute. How would they react to this?

Note: So... I'm the only one who thinks Heimerdinger is really cute. Why aren't there fanfics with him? Mysteries of life..

Arcane characters being called cute by their s/o while they're working

Writer's note: Thanks for requesting! It took longer than I expected because I kept deleting some of the dialogue from how cheesy and cringe it sounded lmao. Heimerdinger is not on my list of characters I write for, but I figured I'll write him this one time. I hope you don't mind that I also added Mylo, cuz why not?

Request/s: Open!

Warning/s: Get a dentist. This is some tooth-rotting fluff. Not proofread and english isn't my native language.

Character/s: Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Heimerdinger and Mylo

● Viktor tends to get lost in his work, mumbling equations or sketching out blueprints for his projects. You find this incredibly endearing, but not when he gets so absorbed that he forgets to eat or sleep.

● If you suddenly hug him or call him cute, he’ll freeze in shock at first. He blinks up at you as if you just said something in a language he doesn’t understand. Then, his cheeks will flush a light pink, and he’ll chuckles softly. “Cute is... not a term I hear often. But thank you."

● Over time, he grows more comfortable and secretly enjoys the affection. He may even lean into it, but he’ll never outright admit it. Instead, he might deflect with a shy smile and, “You should focus on more important matters."

● Yeah no, that's a sign for you to keep doing it.

● Jayce is the golden boy—confident, charming, and ridiculously handsome. He likes to appear professional and put-together, but you know him well enough to see through that exterior to the dorky, hardworking man beneath.

● When you hug him out of nowhere while he cooks and call him cute, he blinks for a second but chuckles as he turns to look at you. “Cute? Babe, I’m going for ruggedly handsome and sweet here. But I'll take it."

● Still, he's flattered and loves the affection you give him. And unlike Viktor, he's not afraid or shy to show you he wants more of it. He might pull you closer and say, "You're one to talk." He's a romantic and albeit cheesy guy.

● Now, you probably might be thinking about why and how is he cooking, but that's for another headcanon! (I just realized how I'm not even sure whose side am I on. Can he cook?? Cuz I feel like he can. But I also see him burning food-)

● Jinx, as we all know, is pure chaos, always working on something explosive or messing around. She has a habit of humming and singing off-key to herself while she works, which makes you think she’s oddly cute in her own... quirky way. To be honest, it’s hard not to find her enthusiasm contagious, even if it’s a little dangerous.

● One day, you catch her doing exactly that while painting her trademark designs on one of her grenades. The sight just makes you smile as you walk up and wrap your arms around her, telling her, “You’re so cute when you’re focused like this,” or something of the sort.

● She’ll throw her hands up and turn to look at you, trying to play off your compliment as a joke. “Woah, you might be crazier than me!" She grins and laughs softly, before making her voice sound more gruff, "Ya buttering up the author nightmares with your mooshy stuff!”

● But after her initial over-the-top reaction, she’ll soften. “Fine, soak it all in.” She shrugs and continues working. But deep down, she really loves the affection and she's getting more and more attached to you. You're giving her the kind of love that she thinks she never deserved in her life, so she really appreciates these little things you do. She might even snuggle up to you later, claiming it’s to “soak in all this ‘cute’ energy.”

● Oh, by the way, she'll make this happen a lot more often. By how, you ask? Well, by doing the same thing to you, of course! It becomes a little challenge betweem the two of you who calls the other one cute first and catching them off guard with it.

● Vi is all tough love and sass, but there’s a soft side she shows only to the people she really cares about. You notice this when she’s being protective or just in those peaceful moments when you're both alone together.

● If you call her cute, she’ll raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Cute? Babe, I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

● Later, she’ll definitely tease you about it, saying something like, “So, how’s it feel dating the cutest person in Zaun?” or "Am I still cute?" with a playful grin. She'll be teasing you and making you smile with that while she's half naked and flexing her biceps (she knows you love them), or when she just got done with a fight and is still holding her gauntlets.

● She loves it, don't let that teasing fool you.

● Heimerdinger is an adorable bundle of wisdom and fluff. You often catch him rambling about science with such enthusiasm that you can’t help but smile. Look at him! He's just adorable!

● One day, as he’s showing you a tiny contraption he just finished, you can’t help but reach out and pet his fluffy head, saying, “You’re the most cutest genius ever.”

● Heimerdinger chuckles, his mustache twitching with amusement. “Ah, well, I suppose I do have a certain charm about me, don’t I?”

● He pretends to be unaffected, but you notice the way his tail swishes slightly when you hug him. “I must say, your affection is quite... energizing! Perhaps I should study its effects further.”

● From then on, he might start subtly seeking out your affection—like casually leaning into your hand when you pet him or “accidentally” bumping into you while working.

● Ekko is talking to you about his plans for the Firelights while sketching upgrades for their hoverboards.

● You were quietly admiring him, the way his eyes light up and the focused furrow of his brows, when you suddenly blurt out, “You’re so cute when you’re focused.”

● He freezes for a second, then looks at you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “Cute? Me?” He grins, a soft laugh escaping. “You sure you’re not talking about yourself there?”

● He rubs the back of his neck, trying to act nonchalant, but the smile gives him away.

● “You’re not getting away with saying that,” he teases, leaning in to nudge you lightly with his shoulder. He goes back to doing his work before playfully adding, “But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just start believing it.”

● It's these little things that matters. These moments, even if simple, it gives him hope and motivation to make the world a better place. The way his eyes soften when you look at him in that moment, and how he lets his guard down just enough to show you he cares — it’s clear that, while he teases, he loves the attention, and he loves you even more for it.

● Dude's got lines fr fr

● Mylo has always been the type of guy who had a sarcastic, sassy remark ready. We all know that from how he treated Powder.

● When you suddenly hug him and call him cute, he freezes for a second, unsure of how to react. “Cute? Me?” He scoffs, trying to play it cool, but it's very obvious he's a bit flustered by it. “Out of all the compliments you could’ve picked, you went with cute? I’m more like... cool, and handsome.” He throws a dramatic, exaggerated pose, trying to hide his nervousness.

● Despite his teasing, there's a small, pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tries to act nonchalant, but the way he keeps glancing at you shows how much he’s secretly enjoying it.

● “Seriously, though. I’m cool, alright?” he continues, trying to regain his confidence. “I don’t do cute. But, uh... thanks. I guess.” He says softly as he shrugs, clearing his throat.

● Later on, when no one’s watching, you might catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, a small smile on his face, clearly still flattered.

Can you guys guess which is my favorite based on how long their headcanons are

[cjlouwho]

Sick of It

in which Tommy gets sick, and he and Buck head towards making up.

The first time Buck gets a call from a number he doesn't recognize, he ignores it.

He does the same the second time too.

The third time, he waits for it to go to voicemail so he can block it.

“Why don't you just answer?” Hen asked, annoyed by his grumbling. “Might be something important.”

“No. Someone gave my number to a debt collector and I've been dodging calls for a Victor Fornell all week. It's nothing.”

He'd barely had time to block the number and resume his search for new bread recipes when Bobby was walking out of his office and calling out to him on the couch.

“Buck, Captain Dominick just called me.”

The name got Buck's attention fast. He stood. “The captain at 217? Why? Wh- What's wrong?”

“Calm down, Buck. Tommy didn't show up for work today and Dominick couldn't get ahold of him. You heard from him lately?”

“N- No. No, I- Was Captain Dominick the one trying to call me?”

Bobby nodded. “Apparently, Tommy put you down as his emergency contact a few months ago. Like I said, could be nothing,” he repeated, noticing Buck's heavy breathing, “it's just not exactly like him to not show up.”

“No,” Buck agreed. “No, it's not. Um, Boss, I-”

Bobby held up a hand to stop him. “I'm not stopping you,” he said, “but I also don't want you going alone. Chim,” he said, glancing around Buck to see all the others paying close attention, “why don't you head out with Buck and see what's going on?”

Chimney nodded, getting up and heading for the stairs. “Let me grab my bag and keys!” he called out to Buck. “I'll meet you at the car.”

Buck already had his phone pulled up to Tommy's name, typing out a text to ask if he was okay. He sent one text, then another, then another.

“Eddie, ha- have you talked to him at all? Since we, um, since the breakup?”

Eddie shook his head. “He broke up with you,” he reasoned. “I figured that's the end of that.”

“You're joking.”

“You're my best friend, Man, I wasn't gonna take his side.”

“Eddie, you've gotta b-”

“Okay, okay,” Bobby interrupted. “Buck, you need to get going.”

Buck turned his phone toward Bobby, eyes pleading. “He... He's not answering me, Bobby.”

“Go.”

*****

“His spare key is in one of these,” Buck said, lifting up rock after rock in the flower bed at the front of Tommy's house.

“We could try knocking on the door first, Buck.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck replied, waving Chimney off. “Try it. I'll keep looking.”

Chimney knocked three times, then waited. Called out Tommy's name, and knocked again.

“Maybe he's out?” Chimney suggested just as Buck found the fake rock.

“His car is here, Chim.”

“Could've gone for a walk.”

“When he's supposed to be at work?”

“Just trying to be positive here.”

Buck unlocked the door and entered slowly, afraid of what he might find. “Tommy?!” he called. “T- Tommy, it's Evan.”

“And Howie!” Chimney added. “You here, Buddy?”

They waited for an answer, then continued on into the house when they didn't get a reply.

It was dark inside, the only light filtering in through a couple of open windows.

It was messy too, which was unlike Tommy. He was always so put together; had a space for everything and liked it that way.

But now there were half empty glasses on the kitchen counter, dishes in the sink. Take out containers were on the coffee table in the living room.

There was also a ridiculous amount of plants on every available surface.

“I think Tommy might have you beat in the breakup grief department, Buckley.”

Buck ignored him in favor of calling for Tommy again. “Tommy! You here?”

“I'll check the garage,” Chimney said, he and Buck splitting up to cover more area. Buck headed down the hallway, tilting his head a bit when he noticed a light shining from underneath the bathroom door.

“Tommy?” Buck felt anxious in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. As he neared the bathroom, he heard a weak groan, and then the sound of someone shuffling.

Every horrible thought ran through his head in a matter of seconds. What if Tommy was hurt? What if someone had tried to murder him? What if that was the murderer on the other side of the door right now?

“I'm coming in!” he exclaimed, shoving the door open as he braced himself for whatever was waiting on the other side.

And there was Tommy, lying on the bathroom floor. Not murdered, but definitely not okay.

“Oh my God,” Buck breathed out. “Chimney, in here!”

Buck knelt down beside Tommy, who was curled on his side, eyes clenched shut, practically vibrating with chills even as sweat covered his face.

“Tommy, what's wrong? Wh- What happened?” he asked, resting a hand over Tommy's forehead. He was burning up.

“I- I passed out, I think,” Tommy replied, teeth chattering. He managed to turn his head enough to look up at Buck. “I- Why're you here?”

“Doesn't matter. Chim!”

“I'm here, I'm here,” Chimney said, rounding the corner. “Whoa! Whatcha doin' on the floor, Tommy?” he asked, managing to keep his cool far better than Buck.

“I'm really... I'm okay, guys.” Tommy's weak voice betrayed his words.

“Don't think that's true, Man. Buck, mind giving us a little room?”

Buck nodded, pushing the hair off Tommy's forehead before standing and moving to the doorway.

Chimney knelt beside Tommy, putting on a pair of gloves before beginning to look him over.

“You fall?”

“K- Kinda. I felt like I wa- was gonna puke, so I was l- l... leaning over the toilet. Then I must've passed out.”

Chimney began to feel around his head and neck. “Can you tell me the year?”

“2024.”

“Your name?”

“Tommy K- Kinard.”

“And where are you right now?”

“Ugh,” Tommy groaned, a look of disgust on his face. “My bathroom floor.”

“Alright. I don't think you've got a concussion, but there's definitely something going on.”

“Ya... Ya think?” Tommy deadpanned.

“There's that humor we all know and love. I need to look you over, Bud, but I'm gonna have to move you a little. Can you turn to me a bit so you're laying flat?”

Slowly, Tommy turned, briefly glancing up at an anxious Buck before closing his eyes. “Hurts,” he grunted.

Carefully, Chimney began to feel around his abdomen. “Tommy, you still got your appendix?”

Tommy shook his head. “No."

“What first brought you into the bathroom?”

“Had t- to pee.” He sucked in a shaky breath, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. “Then puke. Then I mu- must've passed out.”

“Mm.” Chimney felt around Tommy's midsection, stopping when Tommy practically jerked away from him. “You been having pain in your side?”

“Mhm.”

“What about your back and/or groin?”

Tommy curled back in on himself, lying sideways on the bathroom floor. “Yeah.”

“Chim?” Buck spoke up from the doorway. “What is it?”

Chimney raised a finger at him. “One second.” He turned back to Tommy, pulling a infrared thermometer out of his bag and pointing it at Tommy's forehead. He whistled when the temperature popped up. “Quite the fever you've got there. Tommy, does it hurt when you pee?”

Tommy managed to glare aback at him.

“It's important, Bud.”

“Mmm,” Tommy groaned. “Mhm. Yeah, i- it does.”

Chimney nodded. He placed the thermometer back in the bag and rested a hand on Tommy's shoulder. “I believe that you, my friend, have a kidney infection. A pretty bad one at that. How long have you been hurting for?”

“Few... Few days. Not this bad though.”

“I'm gonna call for an ambulance. Infection this bad might've gone into your bloodstream. Buck's gonna stay with you while I wait outside for the ambulance, okay?”

“It's really,” he had to stop as a wave of chills came over him. “Really no problem.”

Chimney rolled his eyes, standing and turning to Buck. “I'm afraid he might be close to septic shock,” he whispered. “He's gonna keep fighting against going to the hospital though, however weak he might be. Talk some sense into your man while I put the call in.”

“He's not my-” Chimney pushed past him and headed down the hall, “man.”

Buck moved back into the small space next to Tommy. Hesitantly, he reached out, his hand hovering over Tommy's arm. He'd touched him before, when he was checking for a fever. That had been in a rush, without much thought.

Now, he wasn't sure. Wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch.

He pushed the thought aside as another almost violent wave of chills overcame Tommy.

“It's okay,” he soothed, running his hand up and down Tommy's arm. “It's okay. Chimney's got an ambulance on the way.”

“I think... I just n- need to rest. I- I'll be okay,” he tried to insist. “It's n- nothing.”

“Tommy, it's not nothing. You're crying right now.” Buck leaned forward, gently running his thumb across Tommy's cheek, wiping away a tear. He'd never seen him like this before, and it was terrifying. “Do you wanna try to get up? Would it be more comfortable to wait on th- the ambulance in bed?”

“Don't think I can. Everything gets t- to dizzy when I move.”

“Okay. That's okay. Here, why don't I...” Buck's voice drifted off as he maneuvered Tommy and himself into a better position. One where Tommy's neck wasn't awkwardly angled down in a way that was sure to cause him more pain later.

By lifting Tommy's head slightly (and slowly), Buck managed to slide between him and the bathtub. He straightened out his legs, one on either side of Tommy, then gently rested Tommy's head on his stomach.

Tommy, still on his side, unconsciously curled his hand around Buck's thigh, gripping onto his pants.

It was quiet for a bit, then, “Ev- Evan?”

“I'm here, Tommy,” Buck answered quietly, running his fingers through Tommy's unkept and sweaty curls, softly massaging his head.

“It r-” his voice was cut off by a jerk, chills prickling up all over his body, “really hurts.”

“I know. Help will be here soon.”

“I- I tried to ignore it.”

“I can tell. Not sure that was the wisest choice.”

The side of Tommy's mouth managed to lift into a small smile, but as soon as it was there, it was gone, a grimace taking over.

“Maybe... Maybe I j- just need t- to sleep it off.”

“Well, you can sleep it off at the hospital.”

“I don't... I don't think I-”

“You're going to the hospital, Tommy, whether you like it or not,” Buck interrupted, matter-of-factly.

Tommy jerked again, a little whine slipping out as he curled in closer to Buck. “I- I'm sorry,” he said, nearly whimpering. “I'm sorry.”

Buck wanted to cry. Tommy- big, tall, strong, Tommy- looked so incredibly small right now. Like a scared child, afraid he was going to get in trouble for being sick.

Buck held him the best he could without hurting him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Tommy.”

*****

When Tommy woke up, it was to Buck by his side. He was sitting in the visitor's chair, his head resting on the bed next to Tommy's thigh, their hands intertwined.

It made Tommy's chest ache. He wanted Buck there, wanted him to stay, but he didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve him.

Not anymore.

Tommy wiggled his fingers a bit. He didn't want to startle Buck, but he also thought it'd be best to wake him up.

Buck's head popped up quickly. He let Tommy go, using the back of his hand to wipe away the little bits of drool running down his chin.

“Good morning,” Tommy said, grinning over at him. “Or afternoon?”

“Night,” Buck informed him, causing Tommy to glance toward the window. A drawn shade blocked any potential view.

“I don't... I don't really remember getting here,” Tommy admitted.

“You, uh, you passed out in the ambulance. You'd wake up every once in a while, but you were kinda out of it.”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed. “Long day.”

“That was two days ago, actually.”

“Wow... Long week then, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

After a beat of awkward silence, Buck suddenly stood. “You thirsty?” he asked, pointing over toward the tray table. “I- I can fix you a cup of water.”

“Sure,” Tommy answered. “That'd be good.”

Buck nodded, but didn't move. He stared at the water, making no effort to actually go over and get it.

“Um, Buck?”

“The doctor said twelve more hours and you'd have been a dead man.”

Tommy closed his eyes, readying himself. He knew where this was going. “Buck-”

“What were you thinking, Tommy? You had to have been in pretty bad pain for a few days, at least. You should have gone to the doctor!”

“I know.”

“Or you could have at least called me, or Eddie, or Chimney. Somebody! Let someone know you were sick.”

“They're not my people to call, Buck.”

“Stop calling me that, and don't say that! I don't own them, Tommy, you could have called!”

“Are you really fighting a dying man right now?” Tommy pouted, wincing as moved himself up the bed slightly.

“You're not dying anymore,” Buck corrected, “and yes, I am! Seeing you like that, Tommy, it was... it was terrifying. The idea of you not being around i- is terrifying.”

“I'm sorry. Really, I am. I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't,” Tommy paused, taking a breath. “I didn't really think about calling anyone. It's not what I do when I'm sick. You just power through, you know? I figured I'd get better. Absolutely did not plan on passing out on my bathroom floor. Would have brought a pillow and a blanket with me, made things a little more cozy.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “You're using humor as a defense mechanism.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Is it working?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Tommy sighed, but gave Buck a smile. “Listen, um, thank you for coming and everything. I'm gonna be fine though, so you can-”

Buck's face fell instantly. “I swear to God, if you're telling me to leave.”

“Buck-”

“I told you to quit calling me that! To you, I'm Evan, and I'm not leaving you! I don't know what it is about me that makes you think that that's what I do, but it's not!”

“Evan-”

“And I'm also sick of everyone telling me what I should or shouldn't do, so jot that down!”

“Evan-”

“And I'm sick of you acting like you're not worthy, or whatever the hell you're doing, because it's not true. And I also know you're doing worse than I am with our breakup, which I didn't think was possible! I saw your place, it's a mess! So don't you-”

“Evan!”

“What?!” Buck yelled.

“Why don't you sit down and we'll talk, okay?”

Buck eyed him curiously. “Really?”

“Mhm.” Tommy patted toward the chair beside his bed. “I think we both need it.”

Buck stood straighter, puffing out his chest. “Y- Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He went to sit, but Tommy stopped him before he could.

“But,” he said quickly, “could I get water first? I actually am thirsty.”

“Oh, damn it!” Buck exclaimed, eyes widening. He hurried over to the tray table, pouring a glass of water and grabbing a straw. “Sorry about that,” he said with a little laugh. “Got distracted, you know, yelling at you.”

“It's fine,” Tommy assured him. “I probably deserved it.”

“Oh you definitely did.” He shooed Tommy's hands away from the cup as he brought the straw up to his mouth. “Just sip, I'll hold.”

“Yes, Sir.”

They were both silent for a few seconds while Tommy drank, and then. “Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“I- I want to be here, okay? I need you to know that.”

Tommy stared up at him, giving him a nod. “Okay,” he replied. “I want you here.”

[moonlightwritingf1]

Under the Stars | LN4

ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ━━━━━━━ After months of pinning after Y/N, Lando finally brings her to Monaco. He takes her on a yacht, where things escalate.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 word count ━━━━━━━ 3.2k

ᯓᡣ𐭩warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

"You’re scared of me," Lando said, his voice low, a teasing smirk curling the corner of his lips as he leaned against the yacht’s railing. The moonlight shimmered on the water below, casting a soft glow on his face. His eyes never left hers.

"Scared? Of you?" Y/n scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to shield herself from the weight of his gaze. But she was lying. Her heart raced, her cheeks burning despite the cool Mediterranean breeze. She turned away, pretending to admire the horizon. "That’s ridiculous."

"Is it?" He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne—something musky and intoxicating. "Because every time I get close, you run. Every time I say something real, you deflect. You’re scared, Y/n. Scared of what this could be."

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing tighter. He wasn’t wrong. But admitting that felt like surrendering a part of herself she wasn’t ready to give up. "You don’t know what you’re talking about," she muttered, though her voice lacked conviction.

"Then tell me I’m wrong." His tone softened, but there was an edge to it—a challenge. He moved closer still, until his chest was almost brushing against her back. She could feel his breath on her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "Tell me you don’t feel it too."

---

It had started weeks ago, when Lando had casually mentioned his Monaco apartment during one of their late-night conversations. They’d been texting back and forth for months, ever since they met through a mutual friend at a gathering in London. Lando had been relentless in his pursuit of her, always finding excuses to see her, to talk to her, to make her laugh. And Y/n, despite her best efforts, found herself drawn to him in ways she couldn’t explain.

"I’ve got this place in Monaco," he’d said one night, his voice smooth and inviting over the phone. "You should come visit. I’ll show you around."

She’d laughed it off, thinking it was just another one of his jokes. But then he’d sent her a first-class ticket to Nice, along with a message that read: No excuses. Be there.

And now here she was, standing on a luxury yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean, with Lando Norris himself standing far too close for comfort.

---

The tension between them was palpable, crackling in the air like electricity. Y/n turned to face him, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. "Why do you do this?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Why do you keep pushing?"

"Because I see you," he said simply, his eyes boring into hers. "I see all the walls you’ve built, all the armor you wear. And I want to break through it. I want you, Y/n. The real you."

Her breath hitched. God, why did he have to say things like that? It felt like he was peeling back layers of her soul, exposing parts of herself she didn’t even recognize. "You think you can just waltz in and fix me?" she shot back, though her voice wavered. "I’m not some broken thing that needs saving, Lando."

"I don’t want to fix you," he said firmly, taking another step closer until there was barely any space left between them. "I just want you. All of you. The good, the bad, the messy. Everything."

Her resolve wavered. She wanted to believe him, to let herself fall into the safety of his words. But fear held her back—fear of being vulnerable, of getting hurt. "You don’t know what you’re asking for," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

"Maybe not," he admitted, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. His touch was gentle, almost reverent. "But I’m willing to find out. Are you?"

She stared up at him, her mind racing. This was Lando Norris, the man who had somehow managed to weave his way into her life and under her skin. The man who looked at her like she was the only person in the room. The man who made her feel seen in a way no one else ever had.

Before she could stop herself, she reached up and kissed him.

It was tentative at first, a soft brush of her lips against his. But then his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer, and the kiss deepened. Heat surged through her, igniting every nerve in her body. His lips were warm, insistent, and she melted into him, losing herself in the sensation.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Lando rested his forehead against hers. "Took you long enough," he murmured, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

"Shut up," she shot back, but there was no bite to her words. She could feel the smile spreading across her face, even as her heart continued to race.

Lando chuckled, his hands still resting on her hips. "Admit it," he teased. "You’ve been wanting to do that for a while."

"Maybe," she conceded, her cheeks flushing. "But don’t let it go to your head."

"Too late," he said, his grin widening. "Now let’s see if I can’t convince you to stay a little longer."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her feigned annoyance doing nothing to hide the sparkle of excitement in her eyes. "Oh, really? And how do you plan on doing that?"

Lando’s smile turned wicked, his hands sliding up her sides. "Let’s just say I have a few ideas..."

Lando’s hands lingered on her hips, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist as he leaned in closer. The moonlight bathed them both, casting a soft glow over the yacht’s deck. His lips brushed against her ear, his breath warm and teasing. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to protest, to push him away and retreat into the safety of her own walls, but something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the world—made it impossible. “Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

He didn’t wait for her to say more. His lips found hers in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to savor her. Y/n’s hands instinctively gripped his shoulders, her body pressing against his as the kiss deepened. Lando’s tongue traced the seam of her lips, coaxing them open, and she let him in with a soft moan.

His hands moved to the zipper of her dress, pulling it down with agonizing slowness. The fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but a pair of black lace panties. Lando stepped back, his eyes raking over her body with an intensity that made her skin burn. “Fuck,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “You’re perfect.”

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself, but Lando caught her wrists, pinning them gently at her sides. “Don’t,” he said firmly, his gaze locking with hers. “Let me look at you.”

She swallowed hard, her body trembling under his scrutiny. Lando’s hands slid up her arms, his touch feather-light, before cupping her face. He kissed her again, this time with more urgency, his tongue tangling with hers as he backed her toward one of the plush couches on the deck. When the back of her knees hit the edge, he pushed her down gently until she was lying beneath him.

Lando’s lips left hers, trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and across her collarbone. His hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her flesh like he was committing it to memory. He nipped at her shoulder, eliciting a gasp from Y/n, before soothing the spot with his tongue.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as he kissed his way lower. His lips closed around one nipple, sucking and teasing it until it hardened under his mouth. Y/n arched into him, a moan escaping her lips as he switched his attention to the other breast, lavishing it with the same treatment.

“Lando…” she whimpered, her voice heavy with need.

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with lust. “I want to taste all of you,” he said, his voice rough. Without waiting for a response, he hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and pulled them off, leaving her completely exposed.

The cool night air brushed against her heated skin, making her shudder. Lando knelt between her legs, spreading them wider as he leaned down to press a kiss to her inner thigh. Y/n’s breath hitched, her hips lifting involuntarily as his lips moved higher, nibbling and kissing their way toward her core.

When his tongue finally touched her, she cried out, her hands gripping the cushions beneath her. Lando groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her sensitive flesh. He licked her slowly, savoring her taste as if she were the most exquisite thing he’d ever encountered.

“Jesus, Y/n,” he muttered, his voice muffled against her. “You taste incredible.”

She couldn’t respond, her mind too consumed by the sensation of his tongue swirling around her clit. His hands held her hips firmly in place as he worked her over, alternating between long, slow licks and quick, flickering movements that had her writhing beneath him.

“Lando,” she gasped, her back arching off the couch. “Please… don’t stop…”

He didn’t. Instead, he increased the pressure, his tongue delving deeper as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. One hand slipped away from her hip, sliding up her stomach to palm her breast, tweaking her nipple in time with the rhythm of his tongue.

Y/n’s thighs tightened around him, her body trembling as the pleasure built. She was so close, right on the brink, when Lando unexpectedly pulled away. She groaned in frustration, her hips lifting in search of his mouth again.

Lando chuckled darkly, his breath hot against her wet flesh. “Beg for it,” he demanded, his tone commanding yet playful.

“Lando!” she protested, her voice a mix of frustration and desperation. “Don’t be such a tease—”

But he interrupted her with another slow lick, his tongue dragging through her folds before circling her clit once more. “Then beg,” he repeated, his eyes meeting hers with a challenge.

Y/n bit her lip, her pride warring with her need. Finally, she relented, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please… I need you.”

That was all he needed to hear. Lando buried his face between her legs again, his tongue working her relentlessly until she came apart with a cry, her body convulsing with pleasure. He didn’t stop, drawing out her orgasm until she was trembling and oversensitive, her hands pushing weakly at his shoulders.

When he finally pulled away, he pressed a gentle kiss to her inner thigh before crawling up her body. His lips crashed onto hers, letting her taste herself on his tongue. “You’re mine,” he growled, his voice possessive.

Y/n’s breath was still ragged, her body humming with the aftershocks of her climax as Lando hovered above her. His lips were swollen from kissing her, his eyes dark and hungry. She could see the unspoken desire in them, raw and unmistakable. He wanted her—all of her. And she wanted him just as much.

“Let me,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her hands drifted down his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin. Her fingers grazed the waistband of his shorts, her intention clear. “Let me…” she started again, but he caught her wrist before she could go any further.

“No.” The word was firm, almost a growl, but his touch was gentle as he lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I don’t want you to. Not yet.”

She blinked up at him, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Why?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves lapping against the yacht. “I want to make you feel good too.”

Lando shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned down to brush his nose against hers. “You already do,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “Every time I look at you, every time I touch you, you make me feel more than anyone ever has. But right now, all I need is to be inside you. I can’t wait any longer.”

Her heart stuttered at his words, the intensity in his voice sending shivers down her spine. She opened her mouth to argue, to insist on giving him pleasure first, but he silenced her with a kiss—slow and deep, his tongue coaxing hers into submission. When he pulled away, she was breathless, her mind foggy with need.

“Trust me,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I know what we both need.”

Y/n nodded, her resistance melting away as he reached for the hem of his shorts, tugging them down in one swift motion. Her breath hitched when she saw him—hard and throbbing, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him. He positioned himself between her legs, his hands gripping her hips as he guided himself to her entrance.

The first press of him against her made her gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders. He paused, his eyes locking onto hers, searching for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he pushed forward, inch by agonizing inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her.

“Oh God…” Y/n moaned, her head falling back against the cushions as she adjusted to the sensation of him filling her completely. It was overwhelming, the way he stretched her, the way he fit her so perfectly. She had never felt anything like it.

Lando groaned, a low, guttural sound that sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. “Fuck,” he hissed, his forehead dropping to rest against hers. “You feel… incredible.”

He didn’t move right away, letting her adjust as he kissed her softly, his lips trailing along her jawline and down her neck. His hands roamed her body, tracing every curve as if memorizing her. Every touch was deliberate, every kiss filled with adoration.

When he finally began to move, it was slow—agonizingly so. He pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in, each thrust measured and deliberate. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her hands clutching at his back as he set a pace that was maddeningly unhurried.

“Lando…” she whimpered, her hips lifting to meet his as desperation began to build inside her. She needed more—needed him—but he refused to give in, his movements remaining steady and controlled.

His lips found hers again, swallowing her moans as he deepened the kiss. “Patience, love,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice thick with restraint. Step by step, let your body fucking adapt to mine. “I want to savour this. I want to savour you.”

Y/n couldn’t help but whimper, her nails scraping lightly against his back as she tried to pull him closer. “But I need… more…” she pleaded, her voice breaking on the last word.

Lando chuckled darkly, the sound sending a thrill through her. “Do you now?” he teased, nipping at her lower lip. “What do you need, darling? Tell me.”

She hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing at the question. But the way he looked at her—so intense, so utterly focused on her—made it impossible to hold back. “I need… you,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “All of you.”

A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned down to kiss her again, this time with more urgency. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hips rolling against hers in a way that made her cry out. “Because you have me. You’ve always had me.”

His rhythm shifted slightly, still slow but deeper, each stroke hitting a spot inside her that had her seeing stars. Y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him even closer as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter within her.

Lando’s lips left hers, trailing down her neck to her collarbone. He sucked lightly at the sensitive skin, leaving a mark that would remind her of this moment long after it was over. His hands moved to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples until they hardened under his touch.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as he gazed down at her. “Absolutely perfect.”

Y/n blushed, her eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself in the sensations he was creating. “Don’t stop,” she begged, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Never,” he promised, his voice firm as he continued to move inside her, slow and steady. His lips found hers again, their breaths mingling as he kissed her deeply. “I’ll never stop making you feel this good.”

Her orgasm built slowly, creeping up on her like the tide. With every thrust, every kiss, every whispered word, she felt herself slipping closer and closer to the edge. And when she finally fell, it was with his name on her lips, her body trembling with the force of it.

Lando held her through it, his own release following soon after. He buried his face in her neck, muffling his groan as he spilled inside her, his hips jerking uncontrollably.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, their bodies entwined as they came down from their high. Y/n’s heart was pounding, her limbs heavy with exhaustion, but she had never felt more content.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his arms tightening around her. The yacht rocked gently beneath them, the stars above casting a silvery glow over their tangled bodies. He tilted his head back, his gaze drifting upward to the vast expanse of sky. “Never had sex under the stars before,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion.

His fingers traced lazy patterns along her spine, sending shivers through her. Y/n turned her head slightly, following his gaze. The night was endless, the stars shimmering like scattered diamonds. She felt small, yet impossibly connected to him in that moment. “Neither have I,” she admitted softly, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves.

His lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile as he looked back at her. “Good.” His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Now it’s just ours.” She swallowed, her heart swelling at the tenderness in his eyes.

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice thick with something deeper than desire. “Stay with me the whole weekend. Please.” Her breath caught, her chest tightening at the raw vulnerability in his words. She nodded, her fingers curling into the warmth of his chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside her.

Lando exhaled, a quiet sound of relief, and pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. The stars watched silently as they clung to each other, the night wrapping them in its embrace.

[chaos-vixen]

@starry-bi-sky AAAAAA it’s 1:01am

I’m reading all the dp x dc I can find

And I want more scenes!

Like- Vlad has a business meeting in the morning, so Danny is forced to stay at this fancy ass expensive hotel (small miracle that Vlad got him his own fancy master bedroom type deal) overnight. But before that, we need to leave the party >:)

The Gala was set to end for roughly another hour, maybe hour and a half.

Danny didn’t give a shit.

So what if people parted a little when he walked back into the room. He didn’t give a shit.

He didn’t give a shit when he locked eyes with Bruce across the room. (not with the same damn subtle furrow in his brow he alway had when he was concerned but in public)

He didn’t give a shit when Vlad gave him a thinly veiled stink-eye. (Damned piece’s shite! What right- what right does that smug self serving bit-)

He didn’t give a shit when Tim found him in the bathroom trying to cover at least some of that lingering smoke smell (Didn’t give a when Tim gave him some of his cologne– that it hid the smell decently. Didn’t give’a when he told Tim that he was “Just a bit tired, head’d ou’early”. Didn’t give’a when half way through his goodbye his accent slipped with a wet voice crack. Didn’t give’s when Tim looked him with something horribly close to pity, made worse by the undertone of understanding)

Didn’t give anything (no reactions. No evergreen left for that or caring) when Vlad saddled up to him at the exit wondering just where he was going.

Did’t give a blessed thing about the one paparazzi guy touching it out to see who the first to leave was, not the final flash (heh, just one bright flash of light-) as he stepped and followed the sidewalk to where the cars where, knowing that Vlad was probably seething behind him.

Danny felt numb all the ride back in the car, up in the elevator, and down the hall to their neighboring rooms. Where Vlad, in his infinite wisdom, poked the bear.

“You know,” Vlad started, in all his slimy evilness (yes evilness- sue him, Danny’s too tired for better adjectives), “Ypu have cost me quite a bit of grief tonight, first with the cameras, then wondering off, then with this! Why, it’s like you want me to stop lending a helping hand to your parent’s funds! Or my little nudge for Jazz’s tuition?”

Danny cares. He doesn’t care about much. But Jazz?

He looks Vlad dead in those greedy, self-important eyes, his breath fogs, his rage and grief weighing the air down, thick like blood, suffocating– “You touch her, you threaten her or what she loves, and you’ll face Rath.”

Then he turns on his heel and slams the door (albeit not too hard, it’s a hotel) firmly shut.

A glance to the bed, perfectly inviting and soft. The alarm on the bedside table reads 10:37.

Whatever logic is left in his frizzled brain says that a shower would might help, but the rest says that bed is way to comfy to ignore. The only good thing to come of being forced to travel with Vlad was that the beds were usually not too bad.

Danny ends up staying up late, time slipping away (‘Why are there so many cursed metaphors?’) surfing through florist after florist for the perfect selection (Jay had always loved red—they’d joke about what color their suits would be if they where one of the richy-rich— also the zinnias where weirdly hard to find), though honestly there weren’t as many florists as there typically would be for a city as big as Gotham.

‘Probably Ivy’s fault’ he thinks tiredly, glancing at the alarm 1:07 seems to jeer from its spot on the bedside table.

With a big stretch and a groan, he decides with a mutter, “welp. ‘M already dead anyways”, rolls off his bed and heads to the balcony for a smoke.

Just as he stands, a ding sounds from his phone.

And for one, ancient’s forsaken moment, his stupid, hopeful mind thinks ‘it’s him’-

It’s squashed the the parasite it is.

Jazz, checking in, seeing if he’s alright. He flips back down on his bed, send a quick reply, how he’s turnin’ in early. He doesn’t bother trying to say that the Gala ended early- even hundreds of miles away Jazz could sniff his bs.

He also should maybe sleep. She concludes the same.

And eventually (but not peacefully, never peacefully) he drifts into the darkness.

——————————————————————————————————————

The morning is bright- because idiot tired Danny didn’t bother to close the fucking curtains.

Thankfully, Gotham isn’t exactly early riser either (smog doesn’t let much sun in until it’s bright enough to stab through the cloud coverage). This allowed a peaceful and lazy wake up all up until the Thud Thud on his door. Clock reads 8:23.

‘Never too early for the bullshit is it, dear universe?’ He thinks bitterly, dragging himself out of bed, mentally trying to prepare for whatever this could be.

There, as expected, stands Vlad, with his usual smug self standing straight with a slight smirk- until he sees an unkempt Danny, still in his suit and that smirk drops to a distasteful sneer.

With an upturned nose, “Disgraceful, anyways, I’m headed off to a business meeting elsewhere in the city. Plan leaves at 3 o’clock.”

Danny gives a slight nod, and immediately shuts the door again. That enough frootloop, especially since he hadn’t even had caffeine yet.

The promise of drugs (the legal kind) has his mind finally figuring out a course of action: shower, dress, boy flowers … then a visit to Jay. A proper visit.

So, with a list of tasks in mind, he sets off to do just that

Unbeknownst to him, a certain revenant was just waking up after not falling asleep 3 hours ago.

I desperately want to keep writing- but my shift starts at 7:00 am tomorrow and it’s already 2:24 am! Plz continue this!

also quick headcannon(s)

Danny still smokes the same cig brand Jay use to carry, the first cig he ever smoked, Jay’s brand

Jay is heartbroken at this broken echo of who he knows and loves (/pl)(present tense because angst) crumbled by grief, pit back together given hope just to have it all ripped away again

Alfred wants to see his honorary grandkid

Since Young Danny insisted on helping with dishes

Aaaand it’s now 2:30am

I’m probably screwed a wee bit. Oops!

*2:32

Childhood Friends Danny and Jason

(cw underage smoking / smoking as a form of bonding) (cw Jason thinking Danny killed himself but its only for a moment) (cw depictions of murderous intent? Danny wants to murder the Joker and he's a little descriptive about it

This is… aha. Massive. Word count check: 9k+

this has probably been done before but hey, everyone loves a good trope and I wanted to share my take on this idea. 👏👏 So, Danny Fenton and Jason Todd being childhood friends. The Fentons lived in Crime Alley for a good long while during Danny's childhood. Nobody wanted to fund their research and Jack and Maddie struggled to keep any form of work for a multitude of reasons. Jack worked in construction due to his big build and Maddie had another job elsewhere.

Danny and Jason were friends during that time, really great friends. I'm not super solid on how they met yet but I do know it involves Danny committing petty crime and Jason deciding to jump in and help when he sees Danny struggling. Danny was distrustful (as all crime alley kids ought to be) but they eventually became thick as thieves, committing petty crime together.

While it's all too easy to make Danny the weaker one of the two with Jason protecting him, I actually really like the idea that they protected each other. Growing up (essentially) on the streets means Danny forcibly had to grow a backbone unless he wanted to get trampled all over. He is just as willing to scuffle with the bigger kids as Jason is, and he and Jason regularly fought each other whenever they needed to let off steam, or just because. They were a duo, having each other's backs in tough situations.

(Sometimes the pair of them would sneak out at night and try and get a glimpse of Batman and Robin while they soared through the air. It was like a game between the two of them to see who could spot the dynamic duo first. When they were a little older, Jason would steal his dad's cigarettes and share them with Danny while they searched for Batman and Robin)

So when Danny has to move away when they're eleven years old, it's pretty safe to say that Jason didn't speak to him for a week afterwards. Nothing Danny did could persuade him to otherwise, even when Danny insisted that it wasn't his fault and that he didn't want to move away either, but he didn't have a choice in the matter.

When the week was over, Jason climbed through Danny's window and sat in his room, dead silent and looking upset. he didn't speak until Danny fished out a stolen pack of cigarettes from his bed and handed one to Jason.

(It was a ritual they had where if one of them was upset about something but wasn't saying anything, the other one could then hand them a cigarette -- whether it be the one they were using or a new one -- and that would be an open invitation for the person to vent. The other one who handed him the cigarette wouldn't speak until the venter handed back the cigarette. Then back and forth it would go until the cigarette was gone.)

Jason ranted about how pissed he was about Danny moving, and they promised to try and stay in touch after he leaves. Neither of them had phones, but Danny was determined to send him a letters.

Danny moves to Amity Park and it's... an adjustment, that's for sure. He's angry, grumpy, upset, and every other negative feeling under the sun. He was going to a new middle school with new people he didn't know, away from all of the people he did know and away from his best friend.

(He does however keep his word about sending letters, and mails one out to Jason at the first opportunity.)

He refuses to get along with anyone, butts heads with the teachers, is combative, rude, and openly smokes in class -- which gets him plenty of detentions and a bad reputation. He speaks in a thick Gotham street accent and wears hand-me-down clothes that are too big and baggy on him. (His parents have yet to replace any of their wardrobes as they settle into their new life, and Danny is hesitant to spend the money to get new clothes.)

He only manages to befriend Sam and Tucker because one of the football kids was bullying Tucker and Danny stepped in. It was some blond jerk named Dash and when Dash threw the first punch, Danny broke his nose. Tucker found him later that day and reluctantly thanked him for his help.

Sam and Danny do not get along for the longest time. Sam questions Danny about his upbringing, his accent, his smoking. She judges him for talking back to the teachers despite doing it herself and for ruining his lungs with cigarettes. Danny tells her to fuck off, and when she tries to judge him and Tucker for not being vegetarian, he calls her a privileged brat.

Sam doesn't even look at him for two weeks after, and Danny refuses to apologize. Tucker is caught between a rock and a hard place as his old friend and new friend are feuding with each other.

They... sort it out eventually.

Danny and Jason send each other letters near religiously. Danny complains about Amity Park, and Jason complains about how Crime Alley isn't the same without him. Danny talks about the school and what he's learned, about Sam and Tucker, and how he's been getting into the astronomy books in the library. He steals Jason a book and sends it to him.

When Jason tells Danny that he was adopted by Bruce Wayne, Danny calls bullshit. There's no fucking way Bruce Wayne would even look at Crime Alley, regardless of his charity efforts towards it. But when he checks Gotham news later that week, he's hit in the face with every single news article announcing Bruce Wayne's newest ward; Jason Todd.

Cue freaking out. Jason talks all about living in Wayne Manor and what it's like there. He says that there's a monster library in a part of the house that Bruce says he has free reign over, and that Jason can have anything to eat as long as he asks Alfred to make it and it isn't a desert, and that he has his own monster-sized room that he got to pick out himself and decorate.

(When they both get phones, the first thing either of them do is add each other's numbers.)

When Sam complains about having to go to a Wayne Gala that her parents are dragging her to one weekend, the first thing Danny asks is if he can go with. It surprises Sam and Tucker; Danny was the last person they would have thought wanted to go with. HE hates the rich even more than Sam does. Danny stands firm in his decision, and refuses to elaborate.

"Besides." He says to Sam, with whom he's begun to get along with via 'the enemy of my enemy is a friend'. "Would you rather go alone or with someone you can tolerate?"

She brings him with and convinces her parents to allow Danny to come along, citing that she'll be on her best behavior if they do. They agree, and buy Danny a suit when he says that he doesn't have one of his own.

(He discovers that he hates wearing suit jackets and ties, but vests he doesn't mind. He doesn't like that he has to comb his hair back, but he does to make Sam's parents happy. They give him a crash course in etiquette that Danny's going to forget the next day, and soon enough off they go in a private jet to Gotham)

(he does not tell Jason he's coming.)

he feels mischievous and nervous as they touch down, his stomach swirling as Sam's parents usher them to a high-profile hotel that Danny's only ever dreamed about going into. He feels largely out of place as they walk through the lobby, and falls back on old habits: square shoulders, set jaw, make yourself look like the biggest person in the room.

They get ready in the hotel room, Sam's parents primp and preen for the night incoming, and Sam is dragged into it by her mother. Danny does only what's required of him, and fiddles with the sleeves of his fresh-ironed button-down that's been tailored to his body. He's itching for a cigarette, and didn't bring any with.

Sam's dad helps him with his tie, a bout of kindness that Danny doesn't think is one. Just obligation to prevent Danny from looking like a mess. Sam pesters him again about wanting to come, and his reasons for it, and Danny keeps mum.

He's stone-faced with anxiety as they get closer to the gala, and before they leave the limousine the Mansons rented Sam links arms with him. A form of solidarity that Danny needs as he squeezes their arms together and smiles weakly at her.

The paparazzi are loud, bright, and demanding, shouting questions over questions at them like overlapping tidal waves. Danny ignores them all and focuses on the front doors instead. Sam's parents whisper at the stairs that they are to greet the Waynes first, and Danny's heart leaps to his throat.

His heart is in his ears as they drift closer, Mister Wayne is preoccupied with another rich couple, smiling that charming billionaire smile that Danny saw on every billboard in Gotham, and then some in Amity Park. Getting so close to him feels unreal.

And there by his side is the one and only Jason Todd, who isn't even trying to hide the bored look on his face as he watches Bruce interact with the other adults. He's gotten taller in the year they've been away, and healthier. His hair looks like its been cut professionally and he doesn't look as street kid skinny.

Danny's arm, hooked with Sam's, tightens up, and he resists the urge to rush forward and hug Jason. He watches Jason's eyes sweep left, away from him, and then right, towards him. The air stills for a moment as their eyes lock.

Danny grins toothily at him, lopsided and playful in nature, and sees the moment Jason processes the sight before him. His arm starts slipping out of Sam's at the same time as an ecstatic smile stretches across Jason's face.

His lopsided grin fills out on the other end. "DANNY!" Jason yells, cutting off whatever Bruce Wayne and startling everyone within earshot. There's barely a moment for Bruce to look down when Jason shoves past him and runs at Danny.

Danny yanks his arm out of Sam's, "JASON!" He yells with just as much enthusiasm, and Jason nearly topples them right over when he collides with Danny. His arms wrap around Danny's shoulders, holding onto him tightly, and they're both laughing, spinning around like tops out of joy.

"You didn't tell me you were coming!" Jason cries, sounding accusing. Danny hugs him just as tightly, and laughs when Jason pulls away momentarily to punch his shoulder.

"I wanted it to be a surprise!" He defends, laughing between words as their spinning comes to a stop. They're both reluctant to pull apart, but they do and clutch the sleeves of their elbows tightly. "How could my best friend be adopted by the Bruce Wayne and have me not come confirm it with my own two eyes?"

"I sent you newspaper clippings!" Jason says, narrowing his eyes while his smile betrays his face. Danny quietly notices that his Gotham street accent is faded slightly.

"Oh that's what it was?" Danny's grin turns again, edging into a smirk. He feigns innocence, "I thought that was fire kindling." He has the newspaper clippings hung on the corkboard in his room, proud beyond words about his best friend.

Jason punches him in the shoulder again, hard enough to leave a bruise. "You jackass." He says, ignoring Danny's laughter even when he's holding back his own.

There's a soft, sharp clearing of someone's throat, breaking their attentions away from each other to the one that made the noise.

Bruce Wayne was a tall man, taller than Danny expected, and he looks exactly like his billboards. If less promiscuous than his perfume ads. Danny expects him to be upset with them both for disrupting his pretty rich gala, but instead he just looks gently amused, with an arched eyebrow. Overall though, he just looks fond.

Danny would be the first to admit that Bruce had taken in Jason as a charity case, something to fill the void after his other kid Dick Grayson finally moved out. But Danny’s a good judge of character — or he likes to assume he is — and those are not the eyes of a man who would take Jason in as a charity case. Those are the eyes of a man who actually, genuinely, cares about one Jason Todd.

The wriggly protective thing settles in his chest.

He doesn’t let go of Jason, but he does twist his smile into something a little more polite. Mister Wayne’s eyebrow arches higher, and he turns his blue-blue eyes onto Jason. “Who’s this, Jason?” He has that fancy Gotham Elite accent -- something that sounds like a mix between old transatlantic and faintly British -- that Danny's only heard in passing when he and Jason snuck up to the nicer parts of Gotham.

Jason stares at Mister Wayne, his grip on Danny tightens as his eyes flick to the other onlookers in the room. “This is Danny, B.” He says once his eyes turn back to Mister Wayne. “We grew up in Crime Alley together, he moved to Illinois last year."

Danny can see the uncomfortable expressions cross every rich person's face, murmurs sweeping across the room as soon their uncomfortable gazes turned judgmental and flinty. He's kept track of the tabloids after Jason's adoption, the ones calling him a charity case and looking down on him for being a street kid.

He inches a little closer to Jason, straightening up instinctively, as if they were back in Crime Alley and facing a pack of kids that didn't like them. He can see Sam's surprised expression from the corner of his eye -- he never told Tucker or Sam about where he grew up, although he's sure they had their suspicions.

He looks back to Mister Wayne and meets his blue-blue eyes, his smile has slowly begun to fade. Mister Wayne doesn't miss a beat however, and his smile stays plastered to his face. If anything, it gets a little softer, a little wider. "It's nice to meet you Danny -- Daniel? I'm so glad that Jason has a friend here." He holds out a hand.

Danny eyes him unsurely, and then takes his hand. "It's jus' Danny, Mister Wayne." He says, some of his old accent slipping through as he shook his hand firmly. He would have done it harder, but this was Jason's new guardian, and from Jason's letters he didn't sound too bad. "It's, uh, nice to meet you too. Jason's told me lots about you."

Mister Wayne's brows jump momentarily, he looks intrigued. He looks between Danny and Jason, and claps his hands together softly. "Well, Jay, how would you like to stay with Danny for a while, hm? I'm sure you too have a lot to catch up on."

Hope simmers in Danny's heart, and he glances to Jason to see that same hope on his face. "Really?" He asks, and Mister Wayne nods with a laugh.

"Of course! How could I keep two friends apart? Go on ahead, chum. I'll come get you when the gala ends."

And just like that, Bruce Wayne leaves Jason with Danny, diving back into a conversation with one of the rich gothamites and taking the attention with it as if he were the sun and everyone else a planet orbiting him.

Danny and Jason share grins, and throw their arms around each other with laughter. Danny is on cloud nine, pressing his nose into Jason's shoulder and breathing him in, fingers digging into the back of his suit hard enough to leave wrinkles in his jacket.

Sam demands answers when they finally, for real this time, pull apart. Why didn't he tell her that he was friends with Jason Todd!? Danny slings his arm around Jason's shoulders and keeps him close, and tells her that it was because he wanted it to be a surprise.

Sam's parents have unreadable expressions on their faces, part greed -- Danny is their in to the elusive Bruce Wayne -- and part disdain -- a Gotham street rat. Danny ignores them, they're unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

He introduces Sam to Jason, and Jason to Sam. And off they go to a corner of the room near the buffet table where they can eat and shit talk everyone else in the room in peace.

At some point in the night Sam is called back to her parents to meet some other fancy rich kids her parents want her to get along with, and Danny and Jason go off to the west end balcony to avoid anyone who may try and approach the new Gotham ward.

Danny hops up onto the balcony railing, kicking his feet as Jason pulls a cigarette pack out of his inner jacket pocket, and grins. "Don't tell Bruce," he says, handing the box to Danny first. "He's been trying to get me to quit."

"Hah!" Danny takes one just as Jason slips out a lighter. "That sounds like Jazz. She's been trying to get me to stop since we moved to Amity." Granted, she's been trying ever since she found out before they moved, but now she was even more insistent. "She hasn't found my stash yet."

At the end of the night when the Mansons are leaving and Danny has to leave with them, he walks back to Mister Wayne with Jason to tell him that he's leaving. Mister Wayne mourns his going, and tells him that he's always able to come visit.

"Any friend of Jason's is always welcome to the manor." He says with a blinding grin, pulling Jason close to his side and squeezing him tight. Jason's nose scrunches up, but he doesn't push away.

It becomes a new routine for them. The Mansons are all too happy to bring him with to the Wayne Galas (of which they start receiving more invites to due to their connection with Danny) and Danny is all too happy to spend the evening with Jason again. No matter what, they always end up on the balcony at some point in the night.

And, eventually, Danny is invited to stay at Wayne Manor either for a weekend or for a break. He jumps at the chance when winter break rolls around and his parents start their debate over Santa Claus again.

Danny and Jason stay up late into the night talking or playing video games during their sleepovers, and in the warmer nights they climb out and onto the roof to stargaze. Danny points out constellations - - things he can find in neither Gotham or Amity -- and rambles on and on about space.

There are plenty of times during the Wayne Galas that the event gets attacked by a rogue. More often than he'd like he loses Jason in the crowd, and has later stopped Robin or Batman in his panic to find him.

The first time it happened, he was in tears with terror. He grabbed onto Batman's cape, stopping the man from going back in as he babbled that his Jason Todd was still inside, that he disappeared during the chaos and he couldn't find him. Batman took his hands and calmly told him that he'd find Jason for him, and that he was sure he was okay, but he needed to calm down.

He found Jason later once everything had calmed down, and he screamed at him for disappearing during a rogue attack, if he ever did it again he'll kill him. Then he cried.

The second time it happened, Danny didn't even realize that Jason was gone until everything was already over. They'd been separated before the attack happened. He stopped Robin and Batman before they could leave, trying to keep his breathing under control as he asked again, if they had seen Jason Todd.

"That- that asshole keeps fucking ditching me when these things happen." His voice has an embarrassing wobble in it. "Please-- please tell me you've seen him, that he's alright."

Robin this time steps up to reassure him, that Jason Todd was out of the building. He got him out. "He's probably looking for you too, uhhh..."

"Danny" Danny says, and eyes him up and down. "You're the new Robin right?"

Robin stilled up, and Danny could understand it a little. He'd seen the thoughts on the new Robin online. He wasn't very popular at first. Robin nods curtly, and Batman was shuffled a little closer to him, almost protectively.

Danny grins at him. "Cool." He says, "Me and Jay used to sneak out onto the rooftops sometimes to try and spot Batman and the first Robin, we made it a game." He holds out a fistbump, "Thanks for doing what you do, man. I might not live in Gotham anymore, but I mean it. You're a living legend."

Robin looks like there's something stuck in his throat, and after a beat he returns the fistbump tentatively. "Th- uh, thanks." He stumbles out awkwardly, and then turns away, "Me and B- uh, better go."

Before Danny could even respond, Robin already had his grapple in hand and was grappling away. "You too, Batman." Danny says before Batman can follow.

When Danny sees Jason after that, and weight lifts off his chest and he hits him in the arm again. And then complains that he should have gotten Batman and Robin's autograph, it would have been epic.

By the fifth time it happens, Danny is cussing up a storm when Robin saves him, cursing out Jason and claiming that he needs to put that boy on a fucking leash. "We're a duo!" He scowls when Robin gets him outside, "I got his back, he has mine! I can't have his back when he's got no back to fucking have."

The eighth time it happens, Danny gets held hostage by one of the henchmen. He's become a recognizable friend of the Waynes, and when the Waynes are nowhere to be found, then the next best thing was up to offer. Danny isn't even mad this time around -- just relieved that Jason was fucking off somewhere where he couldn't get hurt.

Robin, however, seemed furious when he arrived, and broke the hostager's jaw with a single flying kick to the face. Jason found him rapidly quick soon after the situation had settled, and apologized over and over again.

Danny slings an arm around his shoulder and laughs that it was fine, Robin saved the day! His legs were shaking with the worn off adrenaline, something he tried to hide from Jason. "I'm just glad it was me instead of you, Jay." He grins. Jason looks like he swallowed a toad.

Jason stops disappearing as often after that, sticking close to Danny's side until the attack was over.

When Danny is fourteen, Jason dies, and his world unravels.

He calls the manor on a late night in April after Jason had stopped responding to his texts. Danny knew that Jason was just recently in a fight with Bruce, but he knows that Bruce loves Jason. He would know where he is, right?

When he calls, Bruce answers with a hoarse "hello?" as if he'd been crying all day, and Danny's blood turns to ice. The anxiety he'd been feeling beforehand doubles in size, and he feels himself stammering.

"Mister- uh- Mister Wayne? Um, I'm calling because Jason--" he hears Bruce inhale sharply on the other line, and his anxiety skyrockets into fear. "--hasn't been answering any of my texts and- and I'm gettin' real worried."

There's silence on the other end, and Danny feels a rock forming in his throat, gross and heavy like he was on the verge of throwing up. "Mister- Bruce? Mister B?"

There's a shaky breath, and then Bruce's voice crackles through the phone. "Um-- Jason, he, he's--" there's a sound like rustling, "he's been killed."

Danny's vision whites out with skyrocketing terror, his mind skidding to a stop. His body rapidly grows hot, and then chills, like a blacksmith striking a heated weapon. "What?"

When the phone call ends, Danny screams himself hoarse. Jazz and his parents come running into his room, his parents equipped with ghost weapons. Instead, they find Danny curled up in his bed, sobbing hoarsely.

Danny almost -- almost -- refuses to attend the funeral, nearly paralyzed with grief. Jazz coaxes him to go, to find closure if anything else, and he drags himself out of bed to go.

He feels numb the entire time. It's closed casket, so he can't even see him for one last time before Jason is buried in the ground. He's silent, and if he think he looks bad, then Bruce looks even worse, like he hadn't slept since Jason died and worse.

Danny grabs his sleeve before he leaves, and when Bruce turns to him with a dull look in his once vibrant eyes, he clings to him tightly. And cries. Bruce clings back just as tight, Danny feels tears drip into his hair.

"Who did it." Danny whispers, voice too hurt to speak any louder, when he pulls back. His fingers curl around Bruce's jacket tightly, desperately. His eyes hurt with tears. "You said he was murdered, B. Please, who did it."

Bruce looks down at him, and for the first time it really does feel like he's looking down at him. His face is blank, and his eyes close in grief. There is no answer, a silent no.

Danny's face twists up all ugly like, and he shakes Bruce's jacket. "Bruce, please. Tell me who did it."

Bruce refuses, his face full of grief.

Danny never returns to Gotham.

Prior to Jason's death and post their reunion, Danny had slowly begun to improve in school. He started caring more, he was putting in more effort, he was doing his homework and was actually enjoying class. There was the bullying from Dash and the A-Listers, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, he was ignoring them for the most part.

Come Monday after the funeral, and Danny breaks Dash's nose when he starts up with his shit. He withdrew into himself, and it was like he was back to square one again, except this time it was much worse.

Everyone knew Danny was close friends with Jason Todd. So when news of his death finally reached the ears of Amity Park, the students of Casper High School kept their distance.

That following Friday, Danny dies in the portal and comes back. A month later he becomes Phantom, the ghost-fighting ghost. the ghost Phantom wears his hazmat suit partially undone, showing a tanktop he didn't wear in death under the initial suit while the sleeves are tied around his waist. Vicious, glowing lichtenburg scars travel up his arm and neck and torso, covering half of his face while a pair of scientist-like goggles covers his eyes. He's bitter and angry, showing off his death.

Look at me, Phantom's form says, I am a dead child. Look at me look at me look at me. Mourn me. I am a dead child. LOOK AT ME. MOURN ME.

A few weeks later he enters the ghost zone and realizes that he could find Jason. And he spends a weekend scouring the ghost zone for him. He finds Gotham in the zone, and rather than finding Jason, he finds Robin.

Danny didn't know he'd died. And he flies towards him, asks him if he's seen Jason, reveals that it's him, Danny Fenton. Robin stares at him, mouth agape, and peels off his mask to reveal Jason Todd.

They both cry, and when Danny tells him how he died, Jason looks pale in the face. "You didn't- you didn't kill yourself because of me, did you?"

Danny fervently denies it. No, no. He didn't, he didn't. It was an accident. Totally unrelated. But enough about that, what the hell happened? Bruce wouldn't tell him anything at the funeral.

Jason clams up, his ghostly face losing its color, and Danny curses himself. He tells Jason that he doesn't have to tell him, he doesn't have to say anything. They sit in silence.

"It was the Joker." Jason says.

That's all Danny needs to know. He nods quietly. 'I'll kill him.' He thinks to himself, a stubborn set in his jaw. "Okay."

It had always been a plan; a thought wriggling in the back of Danny's mind ever since Bruce told him that Jason had been killed.

Not died. Killed.

Danny wanted the fucker dead the moment he realized it. He just needed to know who did it. He thinks Bruce knew it too, could probably see it in his eyes the moment Danny asked him who did it. He isn't sure if he should hate Bruce more for keeping it from him now.

They spend hours together, just soaking in each other's presence. Danny tries to take him through the ghost portal, to bring him back to the land of the living. But much like Kitty, Jason's form is tied to the zone. Danny promises to visit every day.

And he does. Or he tries to. The grief doesn't go away, but with the comfort of knowing that Jason was on the other side, Danny feels a little better. He tells Jason about being Phantom, and Jason helps train him. It feels like they're kids again and are fighting just because they want to. Its a bout of familiarity in a place that feels unfamiliar. All they need are cigarettes.

And then six months later he loses him again. Danny scours the ghost zone for him for the second time, and this time he doesn't find him.

His haunt is still in the zone though. He didn't move on. He's still here, somewhere.

Danny is convinced that Jason was in the Elsewhereness, and looks for him in between ghost fights and his social life. He visits Jason's haunt every day, knowing that Jason should be able to feel when another ghost enters his home. He does not show up.

(He never thinks that Jason came back to life, and Jason doesn't remember his time in the ghost zone)

When Danny is nineteen, Vlad Masters blackmails him into going to another Wayne Gala. Begrudgingly, Danny goes. He's taller than he used to be, having inherited his dad's monstrous height and his mom's leanness. He has piercings, some of them he got after a lost bet from Sam and Tucker, and he's given himself an undercut.

He still prefers vests over suit jackets, and he still smokes. A little less than before, he sneaks a pack into his pocket before he leaves, along with a lighter. Vlad gives him a dirty look the whole time - he knows.

"Don't give me that look." "That stuff kills, you know" "I'm already dead."

It's like deja vu when he arrives; an awful bout of deja vu, that is. The paparazzi is still as bright and loud and annoying as it always was, and they don't recognize him at all. Something he thinks of as a soft mercy up until one of the reporters asks Vlad who he is.

Vlad smiles and tugs Danny into the camera frame, "Why, this is my godson!" He crows, and shoots Danny a look that is downright smug I'm sure many of you may know him as Daniel Fenton?"

If looks could kill, Vlad would be ash. Danny isn't quite sure why he still agreed to this -- blackmail or no. He felt itchy being in Gotham; jumpy. He's never forgotten his vow to kill the Joker, in fact it was something he still desperately wants.

But the threat of Rath, the name he chose for his evil future self, haunts him just as much as his murderous intent. If he kills the Joker, would he stop?

Danny's almost afraid of what he'll do if he ever lays eyes on the Joker in person. He doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from wrapping his hands around that stupid clown's neck and watching the light leave his eyes.

He pushes the thoughts to the side, and smiles lopsidedly as cameras and microphones flood his face, reporters yelling over themselves as they clamor to get a shot of the old Wayne family friend.

Danny turns and walks inside without answering a single question, flexing his fingers in and out of fists. Vlad gracefully hurries after him, and Danny can hear his glare burning into his back.

"You told me to come," Danny hisses to him once he's beside him, meeting Vlad's gaze piercingly, "not that I should play nice."

"Don't embarrass me, Daniel." Vlad hisses back, trying to look the upmost calm as eyes turn onto them. "I'll make you regret it."

"You embarrass yourself, fruitloop." Danny shoots back, walking away before Vlad could get a retort in. He sees Bruce Wayne on the other side of the room.

His heart seizes with nostalgia. He hasn't seen Bruce since Jason's funeral, hasn't spoken to him either. He doesn't know how to feel about him, but he'd been keeping tabs on Bruce both as himself and as Batman.

Danny's feet carry him forwards before he can think about it, silently weaving between the throng of rich people vying for his attention. It's only when he gets closer does he see the little shadow clinging to his side: Damian Wayne.

The newest little bird, Danny realizes, and stifles a smile at the surly expression on Damian's face as two older women coo over him. He reminded him of Sam, who had long since stopped coming to these things the moment she was able to.

The feeling of eyes on him turns Danny's attention away from Damian, and instead finds them back on Bruce's, who stares at him with a little furrow between his brows. As if he recognized him, but he wasn't sure from there.

Danny grins crookedly the moment he's within earshot. "Mister B!" He exclaims, slipping into what remained of his Gotham street accent. Recognition flashed in Bruce's eyes, and the man smiled widely. "Long time no see, old man."

"Danny," Bruce says, his name breathing out like relief. He slips between the crowd surrounding him -- who are now watching Danny -- and pulls Danny into a close hug. "It's good to see you again."

Danny hesitates for a moment -- he wasn't expecting Bruce to hug him -- and returns the gesture. "It's good to see you too, Bruce." He admits. Bruce was still using the same cologne that he did when Danny was a kid. He blinks heavily.

He pulls away quickly, clapping Bruce lightly on the shoulder as Damian quickly latches onto his father's side again. Damian glares daggers at him, fingers digging into Bruce's pantlegs like a possessive little kid.

He made Danny's ghost sense tingle in the back of his throat, creeping up slowly like a spider before stopping suddenly before it reached his mouth. It hummed, and then disappeared.

Danny smothered a frown. Since when did Batman work with ectoplasm? “This must be Damian." He says to Bruce, and holds out a hand to Damian -- he doesn't crouch, he had a feeling that Damian would be less than appreciative if he did that. "You've really expanded the nest since the last time I saw you."

Damian's eyes narrow at him. Bruce laughs lightly, "Ah yes, Tim is around here somewhere. I'm sure you'll see him soon."

"Father," Damian says, his voice layered with an accent. He glares up at Danny with piercing green eyes. "How do you know this man?" He sounds distrustful, Danny respects that and drops his hand.

"This is Danny Fenton." Bruce says, and Danny lets him introduce him. "He was Jason's friend."

An expression similar to bewilderment flashes briefly over Damian's face, and he eyes Danny in disbelief. "Todd had friends?"

Oh. So that's how he wanted to be. Bruce had a little elitist on his hands. Danny's smile drops like a deadweight, and any lingering endearment he had hardens like ice in his chest, fury slowly taking its place like a flickering candlelight. "It's not polite to speak ill of the dead, Mister Wayne." He says coldly, his voice made of chips of ice.

Damian blinks, the disbelief disappearing from his face. The closest thing to a recoil Danny thinks he's going to get. He doesn't care. No one speaks about his best friend that way.

"I grew up with Jason, actually." He continues, breathing in slow and deep, trying to keep the ghostly possessive-protective-rage under control. "I was his best friend."

He turns, almost robotically, towards Bruce, and tries not to look so angry. "I'm going to go find Tim, Mister B." He says, and tries to offer up a weak smile for the man. It comes out as a grimace instead.

"And..." he pauses, flicks his eyes towards Damian, and then looks at Bruce. "I'll... try and keep in contact, B. Tell Dick I said hi, alright? I'll see you in a little bit."

Bruce nods, looking vaguely disappointed and sighing slow through his nose. Danny walks away as Bruce turns to address his youngest, and doesn't bother listening in on what he has to say.

He does, eventually, find Tim Drake. He spots him in a crowd instantly - it's hard not to, and he makes his way over to him. He's not sure Tim Drake would recognize him, Bruce didn't at first and Danny had been around him constantly.

Except Tim Drake does recognize him, much to Danny's surprise. They lock eyes and Tim immediately makes his way over to him. "Danny Fenton!" He says and stops in front of him, "What a surprise, we weren't expecting you tonight."

"Tim Drake," Danny replies, smiling a little as his earlier hurt begins to fade away. "I'm surprised you know me."

"There are pictures of you in the manor with Jason." Tim explains, stuffing his hands into his pockets with an easy-going smile. "It's hard not to know you."

"It’s hard not to know you too,” Danny retorts, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face. “Although you’re a lot taller than you used to be, when you were lurking around Bruce and Jason and I.”

Ohhh Danny recognizes him alright. One part due to all the news articles and tabloids on him after he was adopted by Bruce, and the other part because he remembers the little shadow lurking near plants pots and table legs that used to follow him and Jason around at galas just like these.

Knowing that Jason was Robin, he wonders if Jason knew he was there too.

The effect is immediate: Tim’s eyes grow comically large, and a red tint glows at the tip of his ears as he shrinks back like a turtle trying to hide into its shell. “You— you noticed that!?” He hisses.

“I did!” Danny grins, large and wide, stifling a laugh as the red tint spreads over Tim’s cheeks and nose. He looks mortified. Danny coos. “Aww, I thought it was adorable that Jason had a little shadow. I’m sure he would have loved you if you had just come over and said hi. He had a big soft spot for kids.”

Tim snorts and it— it almost sounds derisive? “Sure he would.” He looks sad, and the mirth in Danny’s chest shrivels up like a flower without light. The smile fades from his face, and all that’s left is a strange, staunch reminder that Danny and Bruce weren’t the only ones that probably mourned.

He touches Tim’s shoulder lightly, “Hey, I’m sorry.” He says, trying to look as apologetic as he feels. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m sorry, I miss him too.” Like a fucking limb he missed him.

There’s something that flickers in Tim’s eyes, passing through too fast for Danny to realize what it is. He assumes its gratefulness, because Tim relaxes a little and offers him a weak little smile. “I wish I had talked to him.”

Danny sees an out and takes it, he forces out a short laugh, grinning widely. “I can tell you all about him if you’d like,” he offers, “I told Mister B I’d keep in touch anyways. I’ve missed him and Alfred quite a lot in the last few years.”

“Not Dick?”

“That dipstick wasn’t around often enough for me to form any sort of emotional attachment to him.” Danny says in a half-complaining tone, placing his hands on his hips. “Although I did like his puns.”

Tim snickers, “I’ll tell him you said that then. Nobody likes his puns.”

“Go on ahead,” Danny grins, laughter swirling in his chest and making his core thrum with warmth. Damn, he’s missed this family. “I stand by my decision. Puns are funny.”

“Let’s get a photo then.” Tim says with a hand already fishing in his pocket for his phone. “He’ll be devastated to know that you were here and he didn’t get to see you.”

“Sure.” And Danny sidles on next to Tim, throwing an arm around his shoulders — and making a noise of surprise when his arm was able to fit comfortably — as if he was just resting it on a counter.

He totally forgot how tall he was compared to Tim. Forgot that he’d been looking down the entire time they’d been talking. “Why’d I get my dad’s height.” He complains, and bends his knees as Tim raises the phone with the front-facing camera on.

Tim snickers under his breath, and takes the picture while they’re both smiling wide. Danny immediately stands up, and peers over Tim’s shoulders to look at the picture.

It’s a good one, with the fringe of Danny’s curls falling slightly over his left eye and making the dimple on his right cheek more prominent. He could see the barely-there smattering of freckles he had across his nose, the ones that became more prominent when the sun was out. His smile was lopsided, Danny’s favorite kind of smile.

He whistles lowly, “That’s a good one,” he says aloud, and smiles impishly at Tim when he looks at him. “You should send that one, I look hot in it.”

Tim snorts, his ears reddening as he looks down at his phone. “Yeah sure, no problem.” He says quickly, and Danny looks away when he pulls up the messenger app. He’s never felt comfortable looking over people’s shoulders when they were on their phone.

“I’m gonna go take a smoke break.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and curls his fingers around the box and lighter inside. “I’ll—“

“Be on the west-end balcony.” Tim finishes, the red in his ears darkening as he glances up from his phone to smile embarrassedly. “I know.”

Danny snorts, “Okay.” His voice is thick with amusement. “Let me know how Dipstick reacts, alright?” He backs up slowly, awaiting Tim’s response. Tim merely waves a hand at him, a weak gesture of “yeah yeah” that makes Danny grin before he flips around and marches towards his favorite smoking balcony.

———————

(Tim pulls up the family group chat and loads the selfie into the text bar. His face feels warm with embarrassment even as his thumbs fly across the screen.

Tim: look who i found at the latest charity gala :) [image]

Hee awaits eagerly a response, and finds he doesn’t have to wait long. Dick’s thought bubble appears on screen, then Cass’s — of which it only exists for a moment before disappearing.

Dick: holy shit, is that who i think it is?

Tim responds quickly, and his message sends.

Tim: yep. He wanted me to tell you that he thinks your jokes are funny.

Dick: they are funny

Tim rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment, really thinks. He weighs his pros and cons. And then his fingers fly across the screen again.

Tim: hey Jason are you not gonna say anything?

There’s no response for all of thirty seconds — of which it stretches on to an uncomfortably long minute — and then Jason’s thought bubble appears.

Jason: what do i have to say to a bunch of idiots blowing up my phone in the middle of patrol?

Tim: harsh. do you recognize the guy in the photo?

Jason’s response is instant. Too fast for him to have actually looked at the photo itself. He’s just trying to spite Tim then. Tim doesn’t care, he has the upper hand here

Jason: no and I don’t care, i have patrol

Tim knows he didn’t look at the photo, and yet he can’t help stifle a shit-eating smile and feign innocence

Tim: really? You and Danny used to be so close, color me surprised

His teeth dig into his lower lip, he doesn’t need to in order to hide a smile. But it gives him something to do. Jason is worryingly silent for a long, long time, and Tim can almost imagine him staring long and hard at the selfie. Tim knows he will be later.

Finally, Jason’s text bubble shows up. It exists for a long time, before finally Tim’s phone buzzes with his message alert.

Jason: that’s danny?

Tim feels all too gleeful. Smugness swirling in his chest like kicked up sand as he types his response: yep! Apparently he showed up today, although I’m not sure with who since I don’t see Miss Manson around here.

Damian: Father says to get off your phone, Drake. We are at a Gala and your behavior is most unbecoming

Tim: can it demon spawn, I was just telling Jason that his friend Danny is here

Damian: He can’t be too important if he doesn’t even know Todd is alive

Tim: how would you know that?

Damian: When Father introduced him as Todd’s friend, I expressed my surprise that Todd even had friends, considering how unpleasant he can be. Fenton became quite cross with me after that and quickly excused himself thereafter

Dick: you said what!? Damian that’s not okay

Damian: Father made that quite clear after Fenton left in a huff. My mistake for thinking that Todd had told his ‘supposed best friend’ that he was alive.

Dick: he didn’t even tell us we were alive at first

Damian: He did eventually, didn’t he? Clearly Todd doesn’t seem to care too much about Fenton if he hasn’t even informed him of his being alive at this point.

Jason’s thought bubble quickly pops up, and then dissipates, then pops up again. Tim quickly pockets his phone before he can see Jason’s response. He doesn’t feel smug anymore, just uncomfortable.)

———————

Stepping out onto the west-end balcony feels like a blast from the past. A painful one at that. Danny’s fingers dig into his cigarette pack, and he pulls it out with a sense of bittersweet familiarity.

It feels like a lifetime ago that he once stood here with Jason. The package clunks dully as his fingers scrape against the side, and he fishes a cigarette out of the box before stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Quite the night isn’t it.” He says to nothing, to ghosts of the past, to himself. He turns and sits on the railing, sticking his legs out like a tripping hazard while Gotham’s hot city wind blows through the air.

He looks up and only sees the ugly pollution yellow sky looking down at him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to him. He loves the stars and yet when faced with a smog that covers it, he feels more at home.

Danny’s fingers find the lighter, and with a few clicks a small open flame appears in existence. There’s a poem here, he can feel it. But he feels too tired to find it.

The cigarette lights, and the lighter dies in response. Returning back to his coffin-like pocket until he needs to use it again. He pulls a leg up, resting his chin on his knee with a heavy, tired sigh.

He soaks in the sounds around him. The ugly city warmth nips at his jaw. The music inside is muffled by the force of two glass doors and walls on all four sides, and Danny can hear late night traffic coming by on the road nearby. It’s a special kind of ambience you can only find on the west end balcony.

Half a decade ago, Danny had played a part with that ambience with Jason. Now it was just him, and Jason was nowhere to be found. It left a hopeless kind of feeling in his chest. An all-suffocating kind of fear that filled him head to toe with an intensity only ghosts could have.

His body winds up like a spring, and Danny holds his breath. When he exhales two minutes later, the spring stutters and jolts, and his body relaxes with a tremble.

He misses Jason. He misses Jason.

Ghosts are emotional creatures. They feel it from their crown to their soles. And emotional wounds never really heal. They scab over and fester, waiting to be picked at again and again so it can bleed as fresh as it did when it first opened.

Danny’s grief is never going to go away, he thinks. It’s clung to him like a parasite; shaped him and molded him. The wound was too close to him when he died, and now it will stay with him forever.

He opens his eyes when his ghost sense tingles, a heavy feeling in his throat that is neither nicotine nor grief. It’s just like Damian’s, but stronger. Potent. Older. It reaches the top of Danny’s throat and sits at the base of his tongue, like a hand about to suffocate him.

He looks up, cigarette hanging off his lips, and the Red Hood drops down beside him. He stands in the same spot Jason once did, and that alone makes the ghostly core in Danny seize possessively.

Don’t you dare stand where he stood, it hisses, coiling around his lungs like smog. Danny grits his teeth and feels his ghost sense evaporate. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, and nicotine smoke pours out like a cheap version of his ghost sense.

“Red Hood.” He says plainly, his free hand coiling and uncoiling like cat’s claws against the railing. “A surprise to see you here.”

Danny knows through process of elimination who most of the Gotham vigilantes are: Dick is Nightwing, Bruce is Batman, Tim is Red Robin, Damian is Robin, and Cass is Orphan. There are a few who he doesn’t know, however. Like Batgirl and Red Hood.

It’s fine, he doesn’t need to know. Danny of all people understands the importance of a secret identity.

Red Hood doesn’t say anything, just stares at him as if he’s a deer in headlights. His body all tensed up like he isn’t sure what to do now that he’s here in front of Danny. Like he wasn’t expecting Danny to be here at all.

Danny’s brows furrow. “Sorry, am I in your spot?” He asks, and begins to push off the railing. “I didn’t think vigilantes used the Wayne Hall west-end balcony, I can leave if you want.”

He’s already begun to move towards the door.

The Red Hood lurches in his spot, “No!” He yells, and Danny stops in place with raising eyebrows. Red Hood’s fingers cringe, and he straightens up.

He’s shorter than Danny, he notes. Which isn’t much of revelation. Everyone is shorter than Danny.

“No,” Red Hood repeats, sounding sturdier than before, “No. You’re fine. I’m just stopping here for a quick rest before resuming patrol.”

…Danny doesn’t question it. It’s none of his business about other vigilantes and their practices. He shrugs and breathes out more smoke, “Alright.” He says, and walks back over to the railing to sit on it. “I’m Danny, by the way.”

The Red Hood nods, and a silence falls over them. Danny doesn’t care enough to make it feel uncomfortable, but the Red Hood seems unsettled by something. Lost in thought. He leans his back against the railing similar to Danny, and then switches a few seconds later to a new pose.

He does it again, and again, and again. Until finally he flips over and leans his stomach against the railing, arms resting against it. It is starkly like what Jason used to do, and Danny stares at him long and hard.

He frowns. And says nothing.

When Danny’s cigarette is nothing more than a butt of nicotine, he crushes it in his hand and watches the ash flutter down to the ground. The heat stings his hand, but its nothing his ghostly healing can’t fix.

The Red Hood is already holding out another one when Danny’s hand drifts to his pocket for the box.

Danny stares at him, sudden wariness opening up like floodgates that sit at the bottom of his stomach.

His frown deepens, his eyes flicker up and down at Red Hood. His hands hover over his pocket. “I have my own.” He says, and watches subtly as the Red Hood hides a wilt. As if he’d been expecting Danny to take it.

“Alright.” The Red Hood says, trying to sound unbothered. He retracts the cigarette away from Danny, quiet all the way. He’s looking away.

Danny plucks the cigarette out of his hand, startling the Hood enough that Red snaps back to look at him. Danny yanks his lighter from his pocket. “I won’t say no to a free cigarette.” He says, slightly muffled with the stick between his teeth. It lights.

Silence falls over them again, and when one minute stretches into five, whatever hope that had been digging into the shoulders of Red Hood finally pulls away and leaves him slumping subtly.

‘A ciggie for your thoughts?’ Nine year old Jason Todd whispers one night with an impish grin, holding up a cigarette pinched between his two fingers. ‘I stole it from my old man. He won’t even notice its gone.’

Danny is halfway through it when he speaks. “The Joker killed my best friend.” He says, and watches from the corner of his eye as the Red Hood flinches. Is he startled by Danny speaking, or startled by the bluntness of him starting?

“He beat him to death.” Danny continues, staring stone-faced away from Red Hood. His grief claws up his lungs and burrows into his heart again. His fingers dig into the railing. “He beat my best friend to death.”

The Red Hood is silent, his body as still as the grave. Silence stretches out between them both, and like he’d been thinking, the Hood finally speaks: “How do you know?”

He’s not holding the cigarette, he broke his and Jason’s rule. Danny bounces the stick between his fingers. “His ghost told me.” He says, taking a trembling breath. “His ghost told me so, before he disappeared.”

The Red Hood says nothing, and Danny gathers his thoughts. The ones that had been buried deep next to his core, shoved down ever since Danny learned of Rath and a terrible future where a world is destroyed by one ghost’s hands.

Danny has never said it out loud before. His face scrunches up briefly, and then smooths out when his eyes squeeze shut. “I’m going to kill him, Red Hood.” He murmurs when he opens his eyes, turning his face toward the vigilante. The sound is sucked out of the air.

The Red Hood stares at him, but he doesn’t say a word. Danny pushes on, teeth grinding into teeth as he flips his silvery scarred hand back and forth. Palm up, palm down. “It’s why I haven’t been back to Gotham in a while.” He admits, voice still quiet. “If I see the Joker I will kill him, and I won’t feel bad for it.”

“Not today though,” he says, and closes his hand, “today I’m here on a favor to Vlad Masters. Then after this I’ll go visit my friend. I need to apologize for not seeing his grave in a while. I’ll have to stop by a florist to see if they have any zinnias. Jay likes those.”

He takes out the cigarette in his mouth and breathes out one last cloud of smoke. And then he crushes the cigarette stick under his foot and walks back inside.

[mistyjessart]

The Odyssey Modern AU: Christmas edition

For your consideration: the Odyssey but as a Hallmark Christmas movie where Odysseus travels to New York for work and is trying to get home to Hawaii?? (I needed a long domestic flight shhhhh it was either this or Vancouver to Newfoundland) in time for Christmas dinner with Penelope and Telemachus after missing it for the last 20 years straight

The Trojan War is some really big business venture or something that took literally forever for them to sign but they finally did it!!

Polyphemus keeps them after work threatening to get HR involved because they accidentally ate his lunch that he left in the fridge, Polites and some of his other coworkers get stuck there but Ody and the rest manage to escape the office

Athena is Odysseus' boss (and childhood friend) who told him to get everything done more efficiently so he could leave earlier but noooooo he didn't listen and guess who's cutting it close again

The wind bag: Aeolus (from another department, maybe distribution??) sends them home with snacks that they forget to declare and Poseidon the airport security guard sees them after Eurylochus opens the bag in the waiting area and pulls them into the security room until they miss their flight

Circe owns a local motel and wanted to kick them out because she doesn't trust so many dudes around her employees after past incidents, but her and Athena's mutual friend Hermes gives Odysseus some of her favourite tea as a peace offering and he tells her about his wife and kid and she's just like "fineeeeee okay you're a wife guy, I guess I can find you a room"

She calls them a taxi to the airport the next day and the driver Tiresias just keeps giving them ominous life advice and seems to know like... way too much about them and also they're not entirely sure he actually has his license

Odysseus gets a call from his mom like "where are you we're waiting for you" and he's like "I'm on my way home I promiseeeeeeeeee I'll be there this time"

The sirens are various sales reps at the airport

Scylla (baggage check employee) keeps some of them cuz their bags are too heavy so Ody and the rest head to the gate without them

Eurylochus brings snacks again (thinking Chicharron-style snacks, ones you're not supposed to bring on a plane) and Zeus detains them

The suitors are just the neighbourhours who bully Telemachus like "oooOOOOhhhhh ssuuuUUURrreee your dad is tOOOOtally gonna show up to Christmas this year" and making jokes about his mom

Athena (who did leave early and catch the original flight) scares them away and reassures Telemachus that his dad is on his way (while texting Odysseus "see I told you so")

She finds out Zeus is the one detaining them so she calls her dad like "please can you at least send Odysseus on his way, you literally know him, he's just a dumbass sometimes" so Zeus let's Odysseus go catch his flight but keeps the rest of them in security

Calypso is some lady he's seated next to on the plane who hits on him for the entire ten-hour flight

Poseidon, who got transferred to the other airport, recognizes Odysseus from before and pulls him into security again and Odysseus just rips into him until he lets him go

The neighbours are bullying Telemachus while he's out getting last-minute ingredients for dinner when some dude turns up and tells them off and threatens to get their parents so they all run off

Penelope's just like... "who are you and what have you done with my husband, how are you actually on time"

Insert sweet and sappy Christmas dinner with the entire family until Odysseus' sister goes "wait... where's Eurylochus?"

Eurylochus turns up at the door the next morning like "ODYSSEUS YOU MF I HAD TO CATCH ANOTHER FLIGHT-"

[papaya-twinks]

box box! - l.n

Warnings: Swearing, ‘equal rights, equal fights’ joke

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: all the cute things you and Lando did on Boxing Day!

𝐼𝒸𝑒 𝒮𝓀𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔

“Oh god, Y/N,” Lando said, standing on the edge of the ice rink, his feet turned inward slights as he picked at his thumb, his eyes wide. “Lando, I promise it’ll be okay,” you said, doing a twirl on the ice as he stared at the ice, clearly anxious.

“Easy for you to say,” he protested, “you’ve done this a million times!”. You sighed, holding a hand out as he slipped his gloved hand into yours, taking a deep breath. “Exactly, so I can keep you upright and good,” you promised.

“I trust you Y/N,” he said, putting on a brave face for you as he glided onto the ice, his legs shaking as you led him into the rink, his breath coming out in puffs of white. “See? It’s so soothing, isn’t it?” you asked as he nodded, his eyes wide.

“See, you’re a natural,” you smiled approvingly as he let one hand go, his legs moving him slightly forwards. “Yeah,” he said proudly, “a natural…yeah I am,” he moved his other hand out, slowly gliding to you, as you steadied his arm.

“Y/N, did you see that?!” he asked, his eyes filled with childlike excitement, and god, you wished he could be happy like this all the time. “I did, I did,” you said, slowly spinning him round as he let his skates move with yours.

“You’re so good, Lando!” you said, eyes shining as he held onto you. “Look,” he said, doing a clumsy, slow spin on his own, his legs moving round in a circle as you giggled, watching him proudly. “Happy Boxing Day, baby,” you said, kissing his nose.

“Mhm,” he hummed into the kiss, “now race you round the rink,” he said, moving forwards to start skating round, only to stumble, clutching onto the side, “hey, go easy on me!” he called after you as you glided round easily.

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𝒞𝓇𝑜𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔

“So…this way?” Lando asked, turning one of the needles as you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No, baby, I just said, this way,” you said, showing him how to do it as his brow creased, a frown on his perfect face.

“I don’t get it- you’re doing it too fast!” he groaned, catching your wrist in one hand and making you start again, your movements slow and obvious, showing him exactly what he needed to do to create the pattern he wanted.

Trust Lando to completely ignore your advice of doing something easy like a square instead of something hard like making a damn replica of his F1 helmet, and a life size one too! Trust this man to do stuff like this.

“C’mon, look,” you said, lifting his chin and taking the neon yellow wool (which had you ages to find) and showing him the same stitch again, your needle moving perfectly, the hook in your other hand as he watched.

“Baby, this stuff’s hard,” he said, his voice nearing a whine, “remind me to never ever complain when I say it takes you ages to make you stuff,” he said, looking over to the strawberry cow on the side of the shelf.

Crocheting had meant to be a little calming activity for you the day after the hectic mess of Christmas, until Lando had walked up to you with his huge doe eyes and begged you to let him try make something with the wool.

“Maybe crochet isn’t for you, yeah?” you smiled as he nodded, “what about we go do something else for you instead?” you asked as he nodded, stuffing his mouth with the Christmas cookies on the side, a pout on his face still.

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𝐿𝐸𝒢𝒪

You’d gotten Lando a bunch of presents for Christmas and vice versa, but the idea to get him an extra present for Boxing Day was one of the best you’d had, if you did say so yourself, especially seeming as it was the Lego McLaren.

Especially seeing Lando’s confusion melting into a gleeful grin as he saw another present waiting for him under your gorgeous Christmas tree, the excited look he gave you, and then the way he tore the wrapping paper off.

“Y/N!” he gasped as he saw the little Lego McLaren, the one with the mini figure and orange car, his eyes wide as he set it onto the coffee table, clambering onto the sofa beside you, opening the box as the packets fell out.

“Build it, c’mon,” you smiled, clutching your mug of hot cocoa as he put his own down, opening the packet with all the car pieces. You smiled, opening the other one with the mini figure parts, slowly building it into the character.

“Look, it’s you,” you showed him the little mini figure, even with his special helmet as he grinned. “They made me handsome,” he said, watching as you gave the mini figure a kiss. “C’mere,” he mumbled, letting you kiss the real him on the lips.

The rest of the building was filled with giggles and jokes, a pause between the building for a tickling session with you two, before resuming again, to end up with a proper built Lego McLaren with a mini Lando standing on the side.

“Put me in,” Lando said, sliding the character in, “there! A championship winner, that is,” he said proudly, patting the mini figure on its head as you giggled, kissing his cheek again. “Maybe you should be an engineer instead,” you smiled.

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𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓊𝓅

“Only coz it’s Boxing Day,” Lando said, poking your side - you’d been giggling and snickering for ages since Lando had agreed to let you, after ages of whining and begging, for him to let you do his make up, and make him ‘all pretty’.

“Tickles,” Lando mumbled as you blended the foundation into his skin. You were glad he’d let you do a full face of makeup up rather than just simple things like a bit of mascara and some lip gloss, but he loved seeing you happy.

Your smile, with all its radiance, was one of the best things he had in his life, and if it meant looking like a bit of an ass with some make up on his face, he didn’t mind, he’d do anything for you anyways, whether he wanted to do it or not.

“You have such pretty skin, baby,” you hummed, the lights if your vanity reflecting on his skin, sending a gorgeous golden glow onto his face, his lips plump and pretty. “Yeah yeah shush,” he mumbled, cheeks tinged pink.

“Look at you,” you snickered, “all pink, don’t even need blush,”. He rolled his eyes, only to be tutted by you for opening his eyes whilst you were applying the mascara. “Damn baby, those lashes are something else,”.

“Yeah,” he smirked, eyes closed, “get on my level bitch,”. You snickered, punching his arm as you pushed the wand back into the tube, turning his chair to the mirror. “Thoughts?” you said as he looked over his face, a smile on yours.

“Quite good, actually,” he said, running a finger over his glossed lips. “Can your girl fight?” you joked as he kissed your cheek. “You get she can, and she’s damn gorgeous, so don’t even try it,” he teased, pulling you in for a proper kiss.

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𝓂𝑜𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓈

“But baby, we always watch the Grinch,” Lando grumbled, taking a handful of popcorn and eating some, his mouth stuffed full of stone salted goodness. “Exactly! It’s like a tradition,” you said, “our Boxing Day tradition,”.

“Can I cancel my subscription to that tradition? It’s so repetitive!” he said, his voice nearing a whine as you sighed. “Lando, what’s repetitive is your obsession with ‘Dexter’,” you said he mocked a gasp, hand on his chest.

“You take that back, that show is so good!” he said, flicking your cheek as you rolled your eyes. “Fine! Here’s a deal,” you said, “choose a movie that isn’t utter bullshit, and we can watch it, okay?” you said as Lando nodded firmly.

“Anything to get out of who-ville,” he muttered snarkily under his breath, flicking through his Netflix suggestions. “Christmas Chronicle?” he suggested, only to be met with your instant decline, a sigh on his lips.

“Picky little girl,” he said, looking to you, “this one,”. You looked up - The Muppet Christmas Carol. “Please? Pretty please?” he asked, fluttering his lashes (you didn’t even know he could do that) as you sighed, groaning.

“Fine! But we are so watching the Grinch next year,” you said as he nodded, his face beaming as he knew fully well he’d just bat his pretty lashes out of watching that film. “C’mere,” he said, pulling your grumpy form into his side.

“Love ya,” you know that,” he pressed a big warm kiss into your head as you huffed. “Yeah, you bet your ass you do,” you said sassily as he laughed, “having to put me through watching some puppets instead of a green guy…love you too though, you muppet,”.

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𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓃𝒶𝒾𝓁𝓈

“Nice and neat,” you said, watching as Lando layered the baby blue colour onto your nails, his nose very nearly touching your palm from how close he was, the brush moving ever so slowly from your nail bed to the tip.

“Yeah, I’m staying in the lines,” he said, keeping the brush steady. “Oh shit,” he said, a little line skimming from away from your nail, and slightly onto your skin. “It’s fine, just wipe it off,” you said, watching as he grabbed a tissue.

“Y/N, why’s it not going even?” Lando frowned, staring at a little blob starting to form at your nail beds, sliding down thinner and thinner to the tops of your nails. “You’re putting too much on,” you said, examining the nail bed.

“If you put too much, it starts to gather at the bottom,” you explained as he blinked. “What do I do?” he asked, setting the bottle down. “Wait til it’s dry and we’ll file it,” you said, “but continue the other nails,”.

If you were honest, it felt good to have your nails pampered and taken care of the way Lando was doing it, your hands well massages form the moisturiser and creams he’d used to work the tension from your aching fingers.

“Like a professional, you are,” you said, as he blew on your fingers, the other hand already dry. “I wanna do a pattern,” he said, taking a bottle of white nail polish with a very thin brush. “Slow,” you reminded him as he took the brush out.

“Damn, Lando,” you said, looking at the bow he’d drawn on the top of your middle fingers, and the cute little French tip, “you should be a nail artist,” you said as he smiled proudly. “That’ll be one kiss and a cuddle,” he said, accepting your kiss gracefully.

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𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈

“Y/N,” Lando whined, resting his chin on your shoulder as you spooned roast potatoes onto his plate, “I want more potatoes,” he said, his voice demanding as you rolled your eyes, moving some onto his plate.

“Okay bossy,” you said, his hands massaging at the supple flesh of your hips and waist as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “Just wanna enjoy my meal,” he said, the words more directed to you than the actual food on the plate.

“Thanks angel,” he mumbled, pressing a warm kiss to your neck, peppering your skin with little pecks, as he took both plates. “What a gentleman,” you said sarcastically. “I am a gentleman, don’t be so sarcastic,” he tutted.

“You watched me make those food plates and didn’t even offer to help!” you said as he flushed. “Yeah, well, you were doing fine on your own,” he protested. “Sexism, me thinks,” you smiled as he scoffed, hitting your arm.

“As if,” he said as you squeaked. “You can’t hit a woman!” you pushed his hand away. “Equal rights, equal rights, now eat up, pretty,” Lando teased you, kissing the spot he’d tapped, “need to be a beefy girl so you can fight me,”.

“You’re a little freak, Lando Norris,” you said, chewing on your turkey. “So are you, Y/N Norris,” Lando said, a smirk on his face as he watched your cheeks turn that gorgeous shade of red and pink that he loved.

“Got you blushin’, have i?” Lando snickered, nudging you as you rolled your eyes, flicking his arm. “Maybe that should be my Christmas present next year,” you said, pecking him softly as he smiled. “Maybe before,” he hummed.

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[scoupsakakitty]

Just saw your posts the scoups x reader ahhhhh jts so good please continue writing, can i request some more seventeen x reader maybe from another group and the members are teasing them then it turns out they're already talking to each other or they're already together and others would find out accidentally HAHAHA THANK YOU 💖

Secrets and Suspicions | idol!Wonwoo x Reader | fluff

The practice room was alive with energy. The members of Seventeen were scattered across the space, either stretching, joking around, or scrolling through their phones while music played softly in the background. You sat on the couch against the wall, pretending to be invested in whatever video was playing on your screen, but your eyes kept darting toward Wonwoo, who was sitting beside you.

He was close—closer than friends usually sat—and his leg brushed against yours every time he shifted. You could feel the heat of his arm resting casually on the back of the couch, almost as if he wanted to pull you closer but was holding back.

“Y/N, do you want anything from the vending machine?” Wonwoo asked, his voice soft but clear enough to make the others glance in your direction.

“No, I’m okay,” you replied quickly, but your voice betrayed the slight nervousness you felt.

“Since when is Wonwoo so polite?” Minghao teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan chimed in. “He doesn’t even ask us if we want something. Are you special or what?”

Your face burned, and Wonwoo just gave a small, calm smile. “Maybe Y/N deserves special treatment.”

His words sent a ripple of surprise through the room.

“What was that?!” Hoshi practically shrieked, dropping into a crouch as if preparing for battle. “Did Wonwoo just flirt?”

“It’s called being nice,” Wonwoo replied nonchalantly, but the tips of his ears were turning pink—something you had noticed happened whenever he got flustered.

“Ohhh, nice, huh?” Joshua grinned, walking over and sitting on the armrest beside you. “You two have been spending a lot of time together lately.”

You tried to brush it off. “We’re just friends.”

“Sure you are,” Vernon said, leaning back against the mirrors with a smirk.

The teasing continued for a few more minutes before the members got distracted by their usual antics. Wonwoo leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “They’re just being themselves.”

He chuckled quietly. “We might not be able to keep this secret much longer.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You and Wonwoo had been dating for a few months now, but neither of you had told anyone—not even the other members. At first, it had been exciting, sneaking around and sharing stolen moments. But now, with the others picking up on little hints, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep up the act.

Wonwoo reached down and briefly brushed his fingers against yours, a silent reassurance that made your chest tighten in the best way.

———————————————————————————-

The next day, you found yourself in the dorms with the members again. This time, they were gathered in the living room playing games while you and Wonwoo sat off to the side, watching.

“Wonwoo, you’re awfully quiet,” Mingyu said, nudging him. “Usually, you’re focused, but today you’re just staring at Y/N.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “I’m not staring.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” Jeonghan added with a sly grin. “And don’t think we haven’t noticed how you two keep whispering to each other.”

“They’re probably just sharing secrets,” Dino said innocently, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

“Secrets?” Seungkwan repeated dramatically. “Like the secret that they’re already dating?”

You choked on your drink, coughing as everyone turned to look at you. Wonwoo patted your back quickly, and that simple gesture only made the situation worse.

“See?!” Joshua pointed at the interaction. “You don’t do that unless you’re close. Really close.”

“Come on, leave them alone,” Woozi said, finally stepping in to rescue you both. But his slight smile told you that even he was suspicious.

Wonwoo, ever the calm one, simply leaned back and said, “Believe what you want.”

That response did little to ease their curiosity. If anything, it made them even more determined to figure it out.

———————————————————————————-

Later that evening, most of the members had left the dorm to grab dinner, leaving you and Wonwoo alone for the first time all day.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” Wonwoo sighed, leaning back against the couch.

You smiled, leaning a little closer. “Who knew keeping a secret could be this exhausting?”

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo suddenly placed his hands on your hips and gently pulled you onto his lap.

“Wonwoo!” you gasped, but the soft smile playing on his lips made your heart race.

“What? We’re alone,” he said, tilting his head slightly as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

You couldn’t resist him—not when he was looking at you like that. So you gave in, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned in.

The kiss started soft and slow, but it didn’t take long for it to deepen. His hands held you firmly, one resting on your waist and the other trailing up to cup your cheek. The world outside faded away as you melted into him, savoring the warmth and comfort of his touch.

Minutes passed, though neither of you seemed to care. That was until—

“We’re back!” Hoshi’s loud voice rang out, shattering the moment.

You jumped off Wonwoo’s lap so fast that you nearly tripped, scrambling to smooth your hair and fix your shirt. Wonwoo leaned back, doing his best to look unbothered, but the faint redness in his ears gave him away.

“Wait a second,” Jeonghan said, freezing in the doorway as his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “Were you two just—?”

“No,” Wonwoo interrupted quickly, his voice calm but a little too quick to deny it.

“Don’t lie!” DK shouted, pointing at you both. “You were totally making out!”

“No, we weren’t,” Wonwoo said again, crossing his arms as if that would somehow make him more convincing.

“Oh, really?” Seungkwan smirked, stepping closer and squinting at Wonwoo’s face. “Then explain why you’re wearing lip gloss.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly, and his hand instinctively moved to touch his lips. The other members erupted into laughter as your face turned bright red.

“Busted!” Hoshi shouted, practically falling over as he laughed.

“That’s not—” Wonwoo started, but it was no use.

“Nice try,” Joshua teased. “Just admit it already.”

Wonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair before reaching out to grab yours. “Fine. You caught us.”

The room exploded with cheers, whistles, and playful teasing as you buried your face in Wonwoo’s shoulder, groaning.

———————————————————————————-

By the end of the night, the chaos had died down, and most of the members had gone to bed. Only a few stragglers remained, still asking occasional questions but clearly starting to accept it.

“I can’t believe you managed to keep this from us for so long,” Jeonghan said, shaking his head.

“Me neither,” Mingyu added. “But honestly? You guys are cute together.”

“Thanks,” you said, smiling as Wonwoo squeezed your hand.

When the others finally left, you turned to him. “Well, that went about as expected.”

He laughed softly. “At least now we don’t have to hide anymore.”

You leaned into him, letting the weight of the day melt away. It wasn’t how you had planned for them to find out, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

Because now, you could be together—no more secrets.

And honestly? That was worth all the teasing in the world.

———————————————————————————-

[spiderfunkz]

THE APARTMENT WE WON'T SHARE

peter parker x reader

cw: post-nwh, angst no comfort, in this universe everyone forgets tasm!peter, everyone including his own partner. inspired by the song of the title.

it's peter's first christmas alone. he's undoubtedly sad, it would be heartbreaking for you to see him like this, thankfully you will never get the chance to. that's what peter thinks, he's grateful for that. that you will never have to see him in the condition he's always in ever again.

a part of him wants to meet again. to suddenly bump into each other on the subway, to accidentally grab the same book in the library— he hopes to feel the spark again. to see your eyes flicker in familiarity. a sense of déjà vu. as if in another timeline, you were meant to be.

it was supposed to be this timeline. he's supposed to be in your arms right now, opening presents together. he's supposed to give you a gift he's been saving for all year. a perfect present. now it sits, collecting dust on the corner of his room.

he's tried his best to come to terms with it. but gosh, it hurts. he's been on a new date, a couple dates, actually. but he stopped after the third one. he realized that he was trying to find you in every person he meets. nobody can compete, he couldn't find the spark. no eyes shined like yours, no personality was as big as yours, no lashes fluttered like yours. no one was you. he wanted you, not someone like you.

he came close though. to you.

in a café, it was you and peter's spot. he believes that you were there because an essence of him still lingers. that's what he tells himself. you were in your favorite sweater, your hair was beautiful, neat like always. you held your usual order. before peter leaves he saw something, something that reassured him this was for the best.

you were with someone else.

he was hoping to catch you glance at him, or for you to notice him, even if it meant just for a second. but you didn't. your smile was so wide, you laughed at a joke. a joke peter thought he would make. and then you left. stepping out of the café and out of his life. to make it worse. with someone new.

every time he patrols he always hopes to see you. he thinks this is just pure madness, obsession. but he also thinks that this is him genuinely missing you, not being able to move on from someone who is perfect. his life was near perfection with you. his heart is unable to do continue without you, he's trying.

and on christmas, today, he saw you. in apartment building, the moonlight highlighted you, as if it was a cruel reminder from the universe that he will never see that light in his life ever again. he was so focused he tripped on the edge of rooftop.

as he caught his feet, he thought this was a christmas miracle, but then he realized,

it was the same apartment building you two toured together. you gave an idea to peter that the two of you should share an apartment. to have a place of your own, you've always wanted that. peter wanted to, but you were the most excited about it. to have a roommate that is also your boyfriend.

now you stayed there. with no peter. he speculated that you gave the same idea, just to another person. the christmas tree was glowing, the lights were sparkly, you exchanged gifts, and peter finally accepts the fact that he was never really in your life.

the dates you two went; the rooftop parties, the bookstore-reading days, movie nights, the trips to europe that never happened— all never truly existed. maybe not to you, but only to peter. the promises, his photographs, all poof! gone.

it's been a year. it feels so empty. colder than usual.

you seemed warm. he knows it. now you sit, at the apartment you will never share with peter. he swings away, the mask is suffocating. he comes back to his apartment. it's cold, unfurnished. only a simple bed, table, and a chair. he was never good at interior work. however you were. you were great.

what lies on his table is cold takeaway, one fork— he doesn't know where the spoon went, coffee he left untouched, and one single polaroid of you, a clear one, where you were still very seen. the one he took when he fought his old enemies with his brothers. the rest were gone, well.. not really. it was just oddly faded. a silhouette of you is there, but it was just the presence of your absence.

peter kept everything. how unfortunate. he wanted to call, to reach out first, but never did. he shouldn't. there was no one to talk about this to, no one. he thinks that before reaching out, he should come to terms with it. fully.

he wishes you a merry christmas. he hopes you get the message. heart to heart. he hopes there's still a small chance.

a/n: should i make this a mini series?

[callme-holly]

hey! could i possibly have a meetcute with the gang?? like, how you would meet everyone?

and if not (or this as well if you want to) the gang confessing?

sorry i’ve never done this before loll but i LOVE ur writing!!!!

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 [𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞]

𝐚/𝐧: merry christmas y'all!!

Darry Curtis: 

You and Darry met each other at the local store. You were shopping for groceries while Darry had popped in after work to grab some last minute things for dinner. He was in a rush and wasn’t looking where he was going and, in that classic romance movie style, he ran right into you.  He was incredibly apologetic and helped you pick up all of your things, even going as far as carrying them to the checkout for you. Whilst he’s helping you, you both get to know each other and he ends up inviting you to dinner in a panic. 

“Look… I know we’ve just met each other and everything, but do you maybe wanna come over for dinner tomorrow night?”  You’re a little taken aback, closing your truck slowly before turning to face him. “Yeah… Yeah sure, why not. Lets see if your cooking is as good as you say.”

Sodapop Curtis:

You were new to town and decided to stop off at the local DX to get some gas for your car. When you pulled up, Soda was already outside working on another car, flashing you a bright grin as he came over to help you. You both got talking, and soon you were both laughing and joking with each other until Steve came out to hurry Soda along. Before you could leave however, Soda stopped you and asked for your number, which you gladly gave him, telling him to call you when he finished his shift.

“Woah, wait… You got a number I could have maybe… I mean if you want to give it to me.”  You laugh softly, grabbing a receipt from your dashboard and scribbling your number. “Here. Maybe I’ll let you come see the new house when we’re settled.”

Ponyboy Curtis:

You and Pony both shared an English class and just so happened to get sat next to each other one term. He was a little shy and a little awkward at first but it didn’t take long for you to both start up conversation, bonding over different literature and poetry. It wasn’t until you started finishing each other’s sentences that he realised he might be a little more than smitten with you. After class, he catches you at your locker and asks if you want to come over to work on a “project,” which you of course agree to.

“So, uh– I was thinking we could maybe work on that essay at my place. Together?”  You raise a brow at him, nodding. “Alright, Curtis. I’ll be there at 5.” 

Johnny Cade:

You’re walking home when you see Johnny being picked on by a group of socs. Whilst you’re not particularly tough, you decide to intervene, defending him until the group leaves.  Your boldness surprises Johnny, and he thanks you quietly, choosing to walk you the rest of the way to your house. The two of you chat idly the whole way, and when you finally reach your gate, you choose to invite him in, offering to get him something to eat or drink. 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. Most people wouldn’t…. Look, can I get you somethin’ to say thanks? A soda or a milkshake or…”  You shake your head, silencing him. “Just come inside and talk with me.” 

Dallas Winston:

Your dad was the chief of police, and you just so happen to encounter Dallas whilst delivering lunch to your father. He was sitting in your dad’s office and flashed you a cocky little smirk the second you walked in, letting out a low whistle, and throwing little comments in your direction. Your dad, of course, doesn’t agree with Dally’s sudden interest, however, you find yourself falling for the greaser’s charm and end up slipping him your number when your father isn’t watching. 

“Well look at this… You’re way too sweet to be hangin’ round a place like this, doll.” You roll your eyes, handing your dad his lunch. “This is my father’s office.” You smile sweetly, chuckling at the way Dallas’ jaw drops slightly. 

Steve Randle:

Steve catches sight of you when he sees you struggling to start your car in the school parking lot. He watches for a little while before deciding to step in and offer you a hand, his easy-going charm instantly winning you over. As he fixes up your engine, you can’t help but laugh at every little joke he tells, and you both fall into conversation easily. Once your car is fixed up, he gives you his number and tells you to call if you ever need help again. What he didn’t expect was you to call him that night asking if he wanted to go for a milkshake the next day. 

“Your car broken again?” Steve chuckles, leaning against the wall, twirling the phone cord. You huff a laugh. “No. Just wanted to talk to you.” 

Two-Bit Mathews:

Two noticed you getting heckled by some boys at the drive-in and decided to step in, cracking jokes and pretending to be your boyfriend until they left.  However, he ended up staying with you even after they were long gone, the two of you firing teasing comments at each other and laughing together for the rest of the night.  By the time you had to go, he offered to drive you home. Once you finally reached your house, you turned to him with a smile, kissed his cheek in thanks, and offered to go out together again. 

“You really wanna go out with a guy like me, baby?” Two raises a brow at you, his eyes a little dazed as you nod. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? You’re sweet. Pick me up at 7 tomorrow night.”

[cruyuu]

I have to talk about the epilogue (Yuuji part only), you guys, especially after that official art drop because I'm going crazy.

Here, we clearly have Yuko (who we know has a crush on Yuuji) accidentally meeting him in Sendai. This whole moment is romantically-coded, and we even have the usual hints and nudges (such as Yuuji saying he heard where Yuko had been from Nobara) that it isn't truly one-sided either. Key point is that Yuuji loved snow and that he still loves it, and not only that, but that they meet in his hometown when it's snowing. I was informed that Christmas in Japan is kind of like a Valentine's Day so we can all assume this could be a soft nod to a future romance of two people who once knew each other, right? Right????

Yuuji said he loved snow. Yuko specifically says that it's bright, and that it reminds her of him.

Interestingly, the scene of the land filled with snow which is shown reminds me of this:

In the anime this scene is so well-done. The complete darkness of the night around Yuuji is replaced with a shot of Yuuji standing in the middle of a bright, snowy field.

I just find it interesting how on the nose it all is. It practically confirms that yes, that truly is Yuuji's soul that Mahito saw back then, but also, that Yuko is really into him, so much so that she sees who he really is.

So, we have the perfect set up, the perfect time to bring about any sort of confirmation if Yuko will be his romantic interest (because why the nudges if that's not the case) and what's up with the frequent mention of snowing (and them meeting in Sendai, of all places?). Remember that it's also basically love day in Japan, it practically has it all.

And then...

I'm trying my hardest not to ugly laugh right now as I'm writing this but I'm failing. I'm wheezing and I sound like I'm choking. My friend keeps texting me over and over that Gege's insane and at first I thought she was just going crazy over the official art but then... I finally realized why she repeated that over and over after I've read the epilogue.

See, Gege had the perfect opportunity to drop some romantic (or hell, any vibe really) official art of Yuko and Yuuji here. Maybe them just walking the streets of Sendai side by side while the snow is falling, idk, anything. They easily could've done it considering they had everything on the silver platter and it would've made sense. Plus it'll be romantic as hell too.

Why is Yuuji– “Snow is special to me”– dancing in the falling snow with Sukuna, happily laughing while Sukuna appears to be leading the dance? Is this a deleted scene from 265? Is this a joke? Is this confirmation that this is why to Yuuji snow is special? Does this mean that yeah, actually, Yuko's crush will forever be one sided and that all of that between them was nothing? Is Yuko supposed to be a stand in (mirror) for another character... a character who Yuuji promised he'll always live with, no matter if the world rejected him?

Is sukuita real? I can now say it is lmfao. In the episode featuring Yuuji being with a girl who has a crush on him (meanwhile Sukuna's sharing a moment with Uraume) the official art drop is of them... together. Dancing. On love day.

[charliedawn]

Hi! Can I ask for a fic where the slashers have a reader nurse that acts like Kagaya Ubayashiki (from demon slayer) like there calm demeanour and there gentle and fluid manner of speaking.

They can handle criticism and honest about there weakness. The slashers manage to witness how the curse or illness spread to nurse reader each and every day.

The slashers reacting when finding out the real truth of there illness by eavesdropping to there conversation and admitting that they are slowing dying but still wanted to keep working and taking care of them because they care and love the slashers. Nurse reader still keeps working while now being blind and reassuring the slashers they still can handle it.

How would the slashers do now when they found out the truth of there sickness and nurse reader being blind. And nurse reader dies peacefully in there sleep while holding one of the slashers or Norman hand (like trying reassuring or comforting them that they won’t leave or there still here even tho they die) and smile in there sleep. How would there slashers react to nurse reader dying peacefully.

Btw I love your fics there both funny and amazing to read and entertaining I hope your doing well there Author take care 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Bubba noticed the first time you came into his cell and didn’t flinch at his appearance. Let’s be honest here, Bubba is a big guy and everyone who sees his very peculiar mask would at least be a little surprised.

But, you simply sat there—unbothered.

You were calm and even smiled at him. The fact that you were sick didn’t seem to actually matter at first since he didn’t care about you. You were just another nurse…

But then, you weren’t anymore. You started becoming the one who made it possible for his family to visit, who took care of him when he was hurt, who read him and the other slashers stories at night…He started caring because you cared.

And when it was time to say goodbye ? Bubba wasn’t ready. He knelt at your bedside and took your hand between his—crying and shaking as he begged you to stay.

"…My poor little lamb. I can already the black veils of death surrounding you. Slashers can feel Her. Death. And She is holding tight to your heart, dear child."

Hannibal Sr. is very perceptive. He knew from the start, he could smell Her. She was following you around and Hannibal Sr. knew that there was nothing to be done.

You were his favourite nurse. You were the one who gave his children’s gifts to him and who had never once flinched in his presence. He respected you…

When the time came, he took your hand and kissed the back of it.

"…Unfortunate child. Know that whatever time you spent on this Earth, you were good."

When you gave out your final breath, Hannibal Sr. closed his eyes and sighed. Such a shame…

Pennywise was at your door every night. He had tried to heal you—many times. But, his healing powers didn’t work on curses.

Hence, he thought that maybe by standing in front of your door every night, he could spook Death away.

"Not them…Not them..." He repeated over and over—hoping She would hear him. Or that Maturin would save you.

He begged and begged—him who had sworn to never beg for anything ever again—was now begging for your life. A human. A nothing…But if he was to save one person—it would be you.

When he knew there was no other way, he stayed by your side. He didn’t cry, but he held your hand and made jokes all night until he knew there was no laughter left in you. You were gone…

How dared you ? He was death. He was the boogeyman. You had no right to die. He hadn’t allowed it yet.

Michael stayed by your bed side, and you didn’t need your eyes to know that he was worried and didn’t want to leave you—afraid that if he was to close his eyes for even a second…you would disappear forever.

"Michael…It’s okay." You tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen to you. He started crying when he felt that death was inevitable and he held your hand in his.

You smiled at him.

"…I am glad…I got to meet you, Michael. You and everyone else."

Michael’s hand tightened around yours and he decided to get the mask off. Letting you see his face, knowing it wouldn’t change anything and then he whispered.

"…I…am…glad…too."

And then, your eyes slowly closed and Michael shivered as he felt your soul depart from your body. He stayed there hours later—holding your hand.

Freddy came the night he knew you were going to die. He wordlessly sat beside you and you felt him. You smiled.

"…Hi, Freddy."

Freddy was uncharacteristically silent. He looked at you and finally whispered.

"It is…tonight, Y/N."

You nodded.

"I know."

Freddy hesitated before taking your hand.

"…Are you scared ?"

You smiled.

"No. Not anymore…Not when I have a friend with me."

Freddy tried not to cry, but he couldn’t help himself. He sighed and replied with a broken voice.

"…I wish you were an asshole like me, ‘cause at least I’d be sure to see you in hell. But…I know this is goodbye and…I guess the only thing I can do is make sure you get the best sleep of your life tonight."

He put his hand on your eyes and you felt yourself fall into a dream…

You smiled.

"…Good night, Freddy."

He smiled back, even though his hand was shaking.

"…Good night, sweetheart."

"Hum…What do you mean you’re dying ?"

Eddie was taken aback at the news. He stared at you in disbelief for a moment before shaking his head.

"You can’t. That’s not…no. Come on. No." He had tears in his eyes as he took your hands in his and begged you to stay.

He had gotten used to you. You were the only one who knew who he really was. He cried next to your bedside and once you had left this world—he kissed the back of your hand.

"See you soon…Y/N."

Norman stayed awake for days-on-end to stay with you as much as possible. He cooked your favourite food, he played your favourite games and read your favourite books. He thought it would help once the time came. But, it didn’t. It was still so painful to watch when he saw how hard it was for you. He had to see you slowly lose your sight and lock yourself up in your room the days before the inevitable moment of death…

Norman *kisses your hand* : "…If I could die instead of you…I wouldn’t even hesitate to give you my life."

You kept working as a nurse for the slashers, providing for them and making sure that everything would run smoothly once you were gone.

[fourthavecafe]

Love your fics soooo much!! One of my favourite nsfw tickle writers! Would you do a fic where there reader is taking to a guy (maybe unintentionally flirting even) and she gets punished for it by Sakuna or any of them rlly?)

when talking to a neighbor takes an unexpected turn

────୨ৎ────

It had been a perfectly normal day. The air was crisp, the sky cloudless and I was just about to make a cup of tea when a knock at the door interrupted my quiet moment. I opened it to find my neighbor standing there, holding an empty measuring cup.

“Hey” he said with an easy smile. “Sorry to bother you, but do you have some sugar I can borrow? I just realized I ran out.”

I smiled back, naturally polite. “Of course, give me a second.” I disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a small jar of sugar and handing it to him. “Here you go. Make sure to return the jar, okay?” I added with a playful chuckle.

“Absolutely. Thanks so much” he said, lingering for a moment. He made some small talk nothing out of the ordinary asking about the weather, if I’d heard about the neighborhood barbecue coming up. I responded cheerfully, happy to engage in a bit of harmless conversation. It wasn’t like I had much else going on.

The moment seemed unremarkable, but that all changed in the blink of an eye.

Literally.

I hadn’t even turned back toward my living room before I felt the world shift. One second I was standing at my front door and the next, I was lying flat on my back in my bedroom, limbs spread out and tied to the corners of my bed. The jarring transition sent my heart racing as my eyes darted around the room.

What the hell just happened?

“S-Sukuna?!” I stammered as my gaze finally settled on the figure looming over me. His crimson eyes glinted dangerously, his expression eerily calm—too calm.

“You’re quick to call my name now” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. “Where was that loyalty when you were standing there flirting with the neighbor like a common street whore?”

“What are you talking about?!” I snapped, trying to tug at the bindings on my wrists and ankles. “I wasn’t flirting! I was just being nice h-he needed sugar!”

Sukuna tilted his head, his gaze cold and calculating. “Oh, you’re just nice now? Smiling at other men, laughing at their stupid jokes. Do you think I didn’t hear you?” He leaned closer, his tone dipping into something more dangerous. “Let me make something very clear to you. You are mine. My property doesn’t talk to other men, let alone flirt with them.”

“I wasn’t flirting!” I protested, my voice cracking slightly under the weight of his intense stare. “You’re overreacting!”

A slow, sinister smile spread across his face. “Overreacting? No, I don’t think so. In fact…” His claws extended, sharp and deadly, glinting in the dim light of the room. “I think you need a reminder of who you belong to.”

Before I could respond, his claws descended, not with the violence I expected but with terrifying precision. One pair of hands latched onto my sides, his claws tracing slow, deliberate circles over my ribs. Another pair ghosted over my armpits, while the last pair moved down to my hips and inner thighs.

“What are you doing?!” I yelled, jerking against the bindings.

Sukuna’s grin widened. “Teaching you a lesson. Let’s see how much defiance you have left after this.”

The sensation hit me like a lightning bolt. His claws dragged against my skin in a way that was maddeningly light but unbearably effective, sending jolts of unbearable ticklishness radiating through my body.

“N-no!” I gasped, biting back a laugh. “Stop it, Sukuna! This isn’t—ha—funny!”

“Funny?” he repeated, his tone mockingly curious. “I’m not trying to be funny. I’m trying to remind you that you’re mine.” His claws worked with terrifying precision, alternating between slow, teasing scratches and sudden, unpredictable jabs that left me gasping for breath.

I writhed against the bonds but there was no escape. The sensation at my ribs and armpits was relentless, but the claws at my hips and inner thighs were a new level of torture. Every time I tried to twist away, his claws found a new spot to attack, as if he had mapped out every single ticklish nerve ending in my body.

“Okay! Okay!” I managed to choke out between helpless bursts of laughter. “I get it! I get it—ha—please stop!”

But Sukuna didn’t stop. If anything, my pleas seemed to amuse him. “Oh no, we’re just getting started” he said, his voice calm and unyielding. “If you had time to flirt with your neighbor, then you certainly have time for me.”

“I wasn’t flirting!” I shouted, though my words were barely coherent through the laughter spilling uncontrollably from my lips. My stomach ached from the strain of it, tears streaming down my face as Sukuna’s claws continued their merciless assault.

His hands at my sides moved to my belly, where he began tracing maddening circles around my navel. “Such a sensitive spot” he mused, his tone almost clinical. “It’s fascinating how easily your body betrays you. Perhaps if you spent more time obeying me and less time entertaining others, you wouldn’t be in this position.”

“You’re insane!” I managed to yell, my voice high-pitched and breathless.

Sukuna chuckled darkly. “Perhaps. But you should’ve considered that before disrespecting me.” His claws at my hips pressed just slightly harder, sending fresh waves of ticklish agony through my body.

I thrashed against the restraints, my resolve crumbling with every passing second. My laughter turned into breathless gasps, my protests dissolving into incoherent babbling as Sukuna’s claws explored every ticklish inch of my body with terrifying efficiency.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he paused. His claws hovered just above my skin, and I sucked in a shaky breath, my chest heaving.

“Do you understand now?” he asked, his tone calm and measured, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several minutes reducing me to a helpless, giggling mess.

“Yes” I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, what?” he prompted, his claws twitching ever so slightly, a silent threat.

“Yes, I understand” I said quickly, desperate to avoid another round of his merciless tickling. “I’m yours, okay? I get it.”

Sukuna’s smile returned, satisfied and predatory. “Good” he said simply, his claws retracting as he leaned down, his face inches from mine. “Let this be the last time I have to remind you. Do you understand?”

I nodded frantically, my body still trembling from the ordeal.

“Good” he repeated, his voice a low growl. He pressed a fleeting kiss to my forehead before rising to his full height. “Now, clean yourself up and stay away from that neighbor. You won’t like what happens if I see you talking to him again.”

With that, he disappeared as suddenly as he’d appeared, leaving me tied to the bed, breathless and utterly defeated.

As I lay there, trying to catch my breath, one thought echoed in my mind: I really needed to stop answering the door.

[starryjkoo]

will always find it so interesting how army made the "jk is a minimoni anti" joke about him being jealous over namjoon....

https://x.com/jklovesjoon/status/1870891537451950488

Oh my god, that video 😬 just… so corny and unfunny. My thing is, why wouldn’t they just make it a namjikook throuple thing - aren’t ARMYs all about poly-BTS? That’s why the ARMYs who make it about only n*mkook are so transparent to me… 👀

Anyways, imo one of the reasons for this is because there’s actually a lot of HL x JM/JK shippers in this fandom who feel a similar way about Jikook as tkkrs do (just not as extreme lol). Maybe 90% of the fandom are shippers & that also includes a lot of HL x ML shippers who operate like, well, shippers. It doesn’t really matter if they think their ship is real or not, it’s still pretty common to feel jealous/resentful when another “rival” ship is getting all the moments they want for their own ship - especially when a lot of BTS shippers are basically Y/N’s who heavily project onto one member of their ship while being infatuated with the other.

This is pretty common in shipping in general, tons of fictional ships have absolutely batshit insane fanwars so it wouldn’t surprise me if there were lots of non-serious BTS shippers who also got weird and dismissive about Jikook out of the same kind of petty jealousy that tkkrs feel. They don’t even have to be a shipper to feel that way tbh, some people are just really attached to the idea of their faves being the closest (and I’m not saying everyone who ships other pairings that involve JM/JK feel this way, plenty are normal and even like jkk, but there’s definitely a large enough group who are super weird about it…)

I think this is one of the reasons why so many Jikook moments get so heavily OT7-ified compared to other duos. The way that the fandom still refers to JK’s JM live as JK’s "BTS content" live is the biggest example of this to me, it’s actually insane. I remember the way the quotes were just full of people talking about how much JK “missed his hyungs” and how he’s “watching BTS content just like me!”. It felt like none of them even acknowledged that it was a Jimin teasing video either, the whole thing was pretty wild. It's sort of the same situation with AYS and the kinds of clips that would circulate ARMY spaces vs the ones that were noticeably absent.

Like, can you imagine how many ARMYs were probably a little bothered by JK saying that the AYS trips were the best of his life? - literally every brand of JK shipper + the really intense OT7 ARMYs who want to think that they’re only happy as seven and have no individuality outside of being a group, hopefully you know the sort of ARMYs I mean, obviously I know JK loves the group and I’m sure the next BV will be very meaningful.

Anyways, sorry for giving you such a long and serious answer to this lmao 😭 it’s a petty rant and not that big of a deal or anything, but it’s just kind of tiring the way this fandom is constantly downplaying jkks bond, picking it apart and making it about other members. It would be nice if they could just give jkk their flowers and celebrate their moments w/out so much obvious jealousy or whatever. And ofc I don’t care what other people ship or if someone wants to make that whole mini/moni thing about nmkook because they ship it, it’s just annoying that those people will pose as non-biased ARMYs and how all of that has really impacted the whole fandom climate & how jikook are treated/talked about. It’s definitely not the end of the world or anything, but it annoys me enough to rant about every now and then lol.

Also, ofc I know there’s plenty of cool non-jkkr ARMYs who do totally appreciate and hype Jikook!! Maybe even the majority of them are totally normal about it, it’s just that there's enough people who are like this that it’s noticeable and annoying.

I was talking about this with someone the other day but - I’m not sure if you know what a “NOTP” is - I’m pretty sure Jikook make up the majority of NOTPs in the fandom lol.

[omgahgase]

more charthur headcanons/drabbles bc i'm mentally ill over them

charthur cuddling can go one of two ways: they're both suction-cupped to the other octopus style, limbs thrown over hips and hands twisted in hair or night shirts, their legs tangled together so tightly that, in the morning when their bodies ache and their joints click, they have to gently maneuver out of the pile they've made themselves. or, and this one is more likely bc they're both human furnaces so it gets hot under the covers, they're on totally opposite ends of their bed, their blanket lost somewhere on the hardwood floor of their room, but one of them has a hand stretched out, either gripping a hip or gently placed on a broad chest. sometimes both of them do, just to feel the easy rise and fall of their breath. just to know that the other is still breathing

arthur is an avid tree climber. charles will find him sketching out the scene from a branch that should've been difficult to scale to for a man of his size, but arthur somehow got up there. charles will follow him bc of course he does, and when he's sitting pretty next to arthur, their feet dangling and shoulders pressed together, he finds himself giggling. arthur would ask him what's so funny and charles will remind him of the dumb song jack used to sing about his parents when they'd share a kiss in front of him. "charles and arthur, sitting in a tree," charles would sing. "K-" arthur says before he pecks charles on the lips. "I-" another kiss. "S-S-" two more, right on charles nose, the curve of his brow. "I-N-G," he finishes the song by kissing charles twice on both of his cheeks and then plant a big one right on his lips, smiling into charles' laughter

arthur loves dogs, that's a given. he's the type of guy to bring strays back to camp and him and jack would spend all day bathing them and feeding them, making sure they're patched up from injuries and the like. charles doesn't mind dogs, he's fond of cane, but he'd rather his lover bring home a quieter pet, maybe one that charles can tend to without getting slobber all over his clothes. it's not until one day, charles is reading under the shade of a tree when arthur runs up to him, more eager than a honey bear in a bee hive. "guess what i found you." charles doesn't want to guess, but still, he indulges. "more fiber for my bow?" "no." "moonshine for flaming arrows." "no, but i'll get right on that. tomorrow." charles shrugs, dog ears his page and stands so him and arthur are level. arthur also kisses him in greeting bc he can't help himself. as if charles can't help himself either when he pulls away. "what, then?" arthur reaches into his pack and pulls out the most least likely thing charles ever thought he'd have. "you found me a...turtle?" arthur nods, happily, nearly sending his hat flying off his head. "you said you wanted a pet that don't spit on you, an' i thought cats were outta the question too, then i found this 'lil guy in the grass near the pond!" arthur scratches the turtles head with his finger, and charles, despite himself because what the hell? almost coos. the turtle is pretty cute, about the size of arthur's palm, and something in charles' chest tells him to hold it. so he does. and within in seconds, he's in love all over again, with both this small creature and his cowboy. "thank you," he says, reeling arthur in by his handkerchief and kissing him soundly on the mouth. arthur responds in kind, kissing him back and winding an arm around charles' waist. "never thought our first kid would be a reptile," he jokes, smiling into charles' shoulder as charles tucks his new friend against his chest. "it could be worse. you could've brought home an alligator." arthur hums, trails his arms around charles' middle, hooks his chin over his shoulder, and sways. "what a strange 'lil family we got here, huh?" charles chuckles, and sways with him. "i wouldn't have it any other way."

[rewritingtales]

ironic  enough,  one  of  his  newest  friends  is  a  monster  that  goes  by  the  name  of  jeb.  at  least  that's  their  nickname.  they  told  vilem  stories  of  wonderland  and  left  the  man  in  awe,  partially.  he'd  never  want  to  live  there,  for  several  reasons.  the  red  king  sounds  like  a  tyrant  for  starters.  then  there's  the  potions  and  food  that  changes  your  size.  he  doesn't  want  to  be  any  smaller,  or  larger,  thank  you  very  much.  that  gets  him  to  thinking  of  a  solution  to  all  of  this  mess.  everyone  just  needs  therapy.  if  they're  happy  with  who  they  are,  then  they  won't  really  seek  out  becoming  something  else.  tuh.  “i  better  get  to  stepping  then,  huh?  wouldn't  want  to  be  here  when  i  should  piss  off.”  he's  joking  and  for  once  it  shows  in  how  light  his  tone  is.  he  knows  what  zeke  means.  a  part  of  it  is  even  commendable.  “too  normal  for  those  that  are  also  in  between.”  he's  not  himself,  but  he's  getting  the  sense  of  what  it's  like.  with  the  big  bad  wolf  and  with  rory  around  him.  it's  becoming  much  too  normal  for  him.  maybe  he  just  needs  to  get  bitten  into  a  vampire  and  become  every  were-creatures  natural  enemy.  that'd  be  hilarious.  he  continues  to  brush  the  wolf's  hair  a  little  bit  longer  until  making  his  way  to  the  top  of  his  head.  that's  where  he  gives  the  hair  a  small  tug.  simply  because,  if  he  remembers  correctly,  the  man  might  find  that  to  be  rather  enjoyable.  vilem  takes  his  hand  back  so  that  he  can  open  the  door  back  to  the  farm.  that's  where  he  leaves  it  open  with  his  foot,  turning  around  to  motion  for  zeke  to  just  follow  him.  “rory  takes  up  a  lot  of  his  bed  now.  if  you  don't  mind  sharing,  there's  always  my  bed.  if  you  do  mind  sharing,  i'm  sure  we  can  find  another  space  for  you  to  make  comfortable.”  the  farmer  closes  the  door  after  they're  both  inside  and  takes  his  jacket  off.  then  he  peels  his  shirt  off  to  start  getting  ready  to  slip  into  his  pajamas.  it's  not  like  zeke  hasn't  seen  any  of  this  before.  if  anything,  he's  probably  a  little  more  toned  now.  thanks  to  all  of  the  farm  work  that  he's  had  to  keep  up  since  they  hooked  up. 

zeke  was  confident  in  his  strength  &  skill,  so  that  shifters  from  another  world  didn't  really  scare  him.  did  they  make  him  feel  a  little  on  edge,  knowing  they  could  come  here  &  potentially  ...  try  mess  with  what  was  his?  yes,  though  he  got  the  feeling  they  could  find  more  interesting  realms  than  theirs.  it  was  a  great  one,  he  wasn't  trashtalking  his  home  -  not  at  all,  but  he'd  seen  quite  some  wonders  across  the  portals  by  now.  but  knowing  these  threats  existed  somewhere  within  range  only  strengthened  his  urge  to  do  this.  stick  around,  watch,  protect  those  he  cared  about  it  -  however  few  there  were.  he  still  felt  protective  of  his  forest.  maybe  even  the  king's  subjects  even  though  most  of  them  feared  him.  as  they  should.  "it's  my  forest.  everybody  else  can  piss  off."  that  was  not  up  for  debate  -  surprises  or  not.  "that's  ....  not  it..."  was  he  implying  zeke  falling  for  an  animal?  "don't  need  to  extend  anything  anywhere.  perks  of  bein'  me.  too  human  for  the  animals,  too  beast  for  the  humans."  little  shrug.  he  had  what  he  wanted  right  by  him.  he  was  his  own  kind,  though  he  had  no  desire  to  recreate  what  made  him...  him.  bringing  someone  else  like  him  into  this  life  would  only  mean  competition.  lost  in  thought  about  possible  offspring  that  may  turn  out  stronger  than  him  &  that'd  never  happen,  he  didn't  realize  he  had  a  tall  farmer  right  in  front  of  him  until  he  was  right  there  in  his  face  &  personal  space.  head  tilted  to  the  side  in  confusion,  he  couldn't  quite  ...  hm.  "wha—?  oh."  don't  purr,  don't  purr.  he  ...  was  he  petting  him?  sure  was.  little  rumble  in  his  chest,  he  was  not  purring  for  he  was  not  a  feline.  eyes  cast  sideways  &  down,  unsure  what  to  say  until  the  other  spoke  up  again.  why...  did  he  think  zeke  came  for  rory?  rory  always  found  him,  zeke  had  no  reason  to  go  find  him  instead.  he  really  didn't  want  him  to  stop,  but  he  knew  eventually  ....  yeah,  there  it  went.  hand  dropped,  invitation  dropped  &  zeke....  wasn't  sure  he  could  believe  it.  hmmm.  glancing  around  left  &  right,  soft  sigh.  who  was  he  kidding?  of  course  he  wanted  to  be  in  there.  hands  pushed  into  his  pockets,  he  followed  the  other  inside  the  house.

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic fics by...

- haztobegood -

[1]

NailedByLouis: Don’t worry, I cleaned up the mess

Before Harry types out a response, Louis sends another. This time it is a picture. A selfie of Louis licking the blue frosting from his fingers. It is so suggestive, nearly pornographic, the way Louis is staring straight into the camera. Harry drops his phone on his face.

“Ow,” Harry whines as he picks up his phone and looks again. Did Louis intend for that picture to look like that? It’s a much clearer selfie than the one posted publicly. Harry notices a few tattoos on Louis’ wrist, the sharp line of his jaw, his piercing blue stare. Everything about the flirty picture turns Harry on. Blood rushes south as unbidden visions come to mind of what else those fingers, or that tongue, could do to him. He shifts around on his bed, surprised to realize he is getting hard from just one selfie. Harry’s heart races and his palms are damp as he types.

harrysizzles: I’m not sure anything about that is clean

NailedByLouis: Maybe next time you should be here to help me clean up ;)

[2]

Harry’s eyes turn dark as he challenges Louis with a fierce glare. It’d be incredibly intimidating if it wasn’t so damn hot. “I told you not to do that.”

“Whoops,” Louis huffs out a laugh. “I forgot.” It’s not like he regrets tossing the mic and he’s sure his fans loved it, too.

“The mics are fragile and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find replacements easily if one of them were to break, especially once we are in the Midwest. You need to be more careful with the equipment. Don’t make me have to remind you again.”

“Right,” Louis clears his throat. He really needs to get railed if this talking-to is all that he needs to bring him to his knees. Louis aims for feigned nonchalance, hoping his indifference will push Harry’s buttons the way Harry’s warnings are getting to him. He smiles at Harry sweetly, and taps him lightly on the chest twice as he says, “Well, I’ll try to remember next time.”

[3]

“Well, I’m sure Harold would look stunning in a wedding dress someday.” Louis laughs lightly.

Louis' joking tone doesn't ease the sting of the four people laughing at Harry's expense, especially when the thought of wearing a dress hits a little too close to home for Harry. To deflect from further comments about brides and dresses, Harry swats at Louis’ arm. Louis grabs his hand and holds it tight to prevent any further attacks. Unexpectedly, he twines their fingers together at their sides. “You’re right Aunt Sharon,” Louis grins devilishly, “I should put a ring on him so no one else can scoop him up.”

Everyone in the room laughs. Everyone except Harry. He might have found it all funny, if he didn’t want so badly for it to be true. It’s unnerving how spending just a few hours around Louis has made him feel more intense crush and desire to be with him. And all the while, Louis has seen it as a joke. To him it’s a strange situation of helping his friend's little brother to get out of an awkward situation. But to Harry, it had started to feel like so much more.

He should have never agreed to Niall’s suggestion. He should have turned Louis away the moment he’d opened his door.

[4]

By Niall’s third drink he has thrown subtlety out the window. He leans his elbow on the table nonchalantly and asks, “So, Louis, are you planning on showing Harry the Royal Jewels tonight?”

Louis laughs loudly, caught off guard by the brazen question.

“Hey!” Harry whines in protest. He gives Niall’s shoulder a teasing push in retaliation. “I’m not that easy. I require at least one date before I put out.”

Harry winks at Louis. Louis breath catches in his throat, laughter cut short by Harry’s coy response.

Answers below...

[1]

Nailed By Louis

It had started as a joke, just two months earlier. Louis had tried to make recipe from HarrySizzles Instagram account. It looked doable: no strange ingredients, no scary kitchen machinery. Just a simple layered lettuce salad. The result had been catastrophic. His friends had laughed so hard at the disgusting appearance of his salad, and after a few drinks, Louis had been convinced to start his own Instagram to track his food failures.

[2]

More Than a Mic Drop

“You dropped the mic last night.”

“Oh, yeah. I did.” Louis gives a little shrug. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his baggy grey sweatpants.

“That was really careless.” His tone is very stern, unlike his usual bubbly and helpful voice when he suggests Louis try singing a chorus for the third time as he adjusts the sound mix again. Harry levels him a serious look and suddenly the room feels too hot. “You could have broken the mic and we don’t have a lot of spares.”

[3]

Not Another Lonely Christmas

Harry should be more nervous that he’s bringing a literal stranger to meet his extended family, but he figures it can’t be much more awkward than Aunt Sharon’s Christmas parties usually are. Instead, he’s looking forward to having an extra person to buffer the conversation.

A knock comes one minute after eleven. He lets out the breath and opens the door. “Hi there— Louis?!”

Or, the one where the friend Niall sets up as Harry's fake boyfriend turns out to be Gemma's best friend Louis

[4]

The Prince and The YouTuber

The Annual Rosendal Spring Gala hosted by the Royal Family is the most prestigious fundraiser in the country. When a problem with the honorary foundation arises, Crown Prince Louis Tomlinson must pick a new worthy foundation on short notice. He discovers the perfect replacement in an unlikely place, while watching his favorite YouTuber, Harrysparkles.

@haztobegood