#such a fun surprise romp

[refinedstorage]

☆ Streets of Rage 4 // Bare Knuckle 4 ☆

Dotemu 2020

[silverskye13]

Someone left a comment for R&S on my last Helsknight oneshot so I've come to hand deliver it to you like some kind of messager pigeon 🙏

Really funny experience opening my email and being like 'oh new comment! .... Wait. I don't think that's my line. Isn't that from yesterday's r&s chapter?' Laughed my ass off. Someone got their ao3 tabs mixed up apparently

pfffhaha oh no! I'm sorry you got randomly pounced on!

Though since you're here I adored? Evildoers? You are fantastic at characterization anyway, but the way you wrote Helsknight's cynicism, and Evil X's manic, just a little off energy was fantastic.

Also, adore a pair of villains working together, for better or worse.

Fantastic work dude!

[mrsfancyferrari]

Our Doggie

Summary: 4 moments of you, the proud mom and Lando Norris, the protective dad of Chase Norris, the dog.

Song: Miguel - Sure Thing

Part 1 Author’s note: Happy birthday to my favourite boy! Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 5.8k

MASTERLIST - F1

The sun hung high over the bustling Formula 1 paddock, casting a warm glow against the vibrant team banners fluttering in the light breeze.

The aroma of fresh coffee and fuel mixed in the air, tickling your senses as you navigated through the crowd, Chase nestled contentedly in your arms.

Lando walked closely beside you, his signature grin plastered on his face, a look of particular joy you loved to see.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, glancing down at Chase, who was blissfully oblivious to the world around him, his tiny paws resting lightly against your chest.

“Absolutely!” you replied, adjusting the fluffy cream-colored fur of your little dog. “I mean, if the internet exploded over how cute he is, I can't wait to show him off in person again,”

Lando chuckled, his laughter filling your heart with warmth. “I still can’t believe how many fans have taken an interest in Chase. I mean, he’s adorable, but it’s not like he’s driving a car,”

You shared an amused glance. “True, but I think we both know he steals the show everywhere we take him. With those big eyes? He’s irresistible.”

As you made your way towards the McLaren hospitality area, the familiar sight of Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc caught your eye.

To your surprise, both drivers were squatting beside their own dogs—Lewis with Roscoe, a distinguished-looking bulldog, and Charles with Leo, a spirited miniature longhaired dachshund. It was a rare sight to catch them both not in race mode, but at play.

“Hey, you two!” you called out, waving your free hand. “Look who we've brought along!”

“Oh wow, it’s Chase!” Lewis exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he stood up with Roscoe. The bulldog ambled over with a curious snort, eyes fixated on Chase.

“Is that our little Instagram star?” Charles teased, his accent thick with amusement as he crouched down, already reaching out towards Chase. “I’ve seen more of him than myself lately.”

“Guilty as charged!” you laughed, beaming with pride. “And this little guy is ready for his paddock debut for real.”

Lando stretched out his arm and playfully nudged you. “But first,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “let's see if these two dogs can keep up with the fastest little dog in the paddock.”

You raised an eyebrow at Lando. “Fastest? You realize he’s like, what? Two pounds?”

“Let’s not underestimate Chase. He’s a champion at heart!” Lando shot back, petting Chase’s head lovingly. “Right, buddy?”

Before you could respond, Leo dashed forward, tail wagging enthusiastically, and nudged Chase’s paw.

Chase blinked up at the Dachshund, seemingly unsure at first but then quickly warming up to the new canine friend. You felt a smile spread across your face; this would be fun.

“Looks like they’re already sizing each other up,” you said to Lando, who watched proudly.

Lewis rose, laughing. “I think all we need now is a proper doggy playdate. What do you say for a few minutes?”

“Absolutely,” you affirmed. “This could be a whole new Instagram series for me.”

The three of you found a patch of soft grass a short walk from the bustling hospitality area. The sun-kissed spot gave the dogs plenty of space to romp while the energy of the paddock buzzed pleasantly in the background.

As the dogs began to play—Chase scampering after Leo, who darted with boundless energy and charm—you leaned into Lando, who slung an arm around your shoulders. “You know, I didn’t expect today to turn out like this. It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?” he murmured, his eyes glinting with affection.

“It really is,” you said softly, wanting to freeze this moment in time.

You looked over at the three furry friends, enjoying their newfound friendship, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Chase surprised everyone by catching up to Leo and tugging playfully at his tail.

“As long as they don’t dig up the paddock or cause chaos,” Lando added, chuckling.

“Who would have thought you’d become a dog dad this quickly?” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

Lando feigned distress. “Me? It’s all your fault! My life used to involve fast cars and loud engines, and now it includes this little ball of fluff demanding cuddles.”

“Looks like you’ve traded one love for another,” you smiled, leaning in to steal a kiss.

The soft brush of his lips sent a tiny thrill through you that never seemed to fade no matter how many times you shared these moments.

You watched as Roscoe plopped down beside Chase, who was busy barking up a storm.

“Is Chase bringing out the playful side of Roscoe?” you quipped, noticing the bulldog’s effortless charm as he nudged the tiny dog with his nose.

Lewis approached with a proud grin. “I think he is. I’ve never seen Roscoe this active since… well, forever, to be honest. We might be onto something with these doggy meet-ups.”

Charles laughed, joining in their amusement. “Next season, we might need to think about forming a dog team!”

With the race weekend in full swing, you felt a sense of peace that was rarely achieved in the high-speed world that encapsulated your lives.

The dogs chased each other in wide arcs, occasionally stopping to check in with their humans, tails wagging wildly. It was a cookie-cutter version of bliss—a world away from fast cars and flashing cameras, grounded in pure, uncomplicated affection.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue across the paddock, you and Lando settled onto the grass, Chase nestled comfortably between you.

“Can you believe they’re all sleepier than we are?” Lando mused, watching the dog pile settle down in a heap of fur.

“I can’t. It’s like they burned off all their energy in five minutes,” you laughed.

A thought crossed your mind, and you turned to Lando, feeling slightly more serious. “What if we brought Chase to more races with us? He could be a mascot of sorts.”

“I love that idea!” Lando grinned back at you, his eyes sparkling. “I can already see the team merch: Chase-themed caps or something. It’s perfect.”

As laughter filled the air around you, you realized that amidst the chaotic world of Formula 1, filled with roaring engines and high stakes, it was these quiet moments, shared with Lando and Chase, that truly defined your happiness.

You rested your head against his shoulder, knowing deep down that no matter where this journey took you, together, you’d always find the joy in life—the little moments that felt like magic.

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You sink back into the soft layers of your bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp.

The world outside is alive with the gentle trill of crickets, but here, in your sanctuary, the only sounds are the steady heartbeat of Lando beside you and the slight rustle of sheets as he shifts to get more comfortable.

You take a moment to relish this perfect calm after the day’s chaos, the two of you finally alone together after putting Chase to bed in the living room.

You can’t help but look over at Lando, his messy hair fanning out on the pillow like a halo, his lips slightly parted in that relaxed way that makes your heart flutter.

He glances up at you, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

“So, what should we do now that we have time?” you tease, half sitting on top of him, enjoying the playful tension in the air.

He raises an eyebrow, a grin breaking across his face as he fights to suppress a chuckle.

“Hmm, choices, choices,” he says, pretending to ponder deeply. “Should we play a game? Or maybe I could serenade you with my terrible singing?”

His voice dips into a mock dramatic tone that sends a wave of laughter bubbling up your throat.

“Terrible singing sounds perfect,” you reply, grinning as you mockingly glare at him. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to hear your off-key renditions of popular songs?”

“Hey, at least I’m better than the last guy who tried,” he shoots back, pulling you closer to him. “But, fine. You might be the perfect audience for my next hit single then.”

As he leans in, you stroke your fingers through his hair, enjoying the moment. It’s easy to forget about everything else with him here.

The chaos of your day fades, leaving only the warmth of his body and the sparkle of his laughter.

You leaned down closer to brush your lips against his. The kiss tasted like sweetness and laughter—soft and familiar. Just as you were about to pull back, Lando deepened the kiss, his free hand finding its way to your waist.

You melted against him, feeling the electricity coursing through your entire body. “If we keep this up, you might end up forgetting your song.” you murmured against his lips, smiling playfully.

But just as you find a comfortable rhythm, the door creaks open slowly, and you turn your head just in time to see Chase, your little dog, making his grand re-entry.

His tiny body clambers up the stairs with determination, climbing onto the bed with gusto. His tail wags furiously as he reaches you, giving you both a salute of excitement and wanting attention.

Lando bursts out laughing, his beautiful joy filling the room.

“Look who decided to join! Chase! You’ve missed all the fun!” Lando exclaims, rolling onto his back and reaching out for the playful pup.

“Seriously? I thought we put him to bed!” you giggle, scratching Chase behind his ears as he wriggles happily between you and Lando.

“He’s a tiny troublemaker,” Lando laughs, showering the little dog with love as he lifts him into the air. “Just like his human.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “I’m not a troublemaker!” you retort dramatically.

Chase, ever the attention-seeker, wiggles in Lando’s hands, finally settling on your lap, looking up at you with big, innocent eyes. You can’t help but melt.

“Okay, but really, what are we going to do?” you ask again, this time scratching behind the little dog’s ears while seeking Lando’s gaze.

“How about this: let’s have a little movie night right here?” Lando suggests, nodding towards the television tucked in the corner of the room. “But we’ll need snacks, and I have a secret stash of popcorn hidden under the bed.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “A secret stash? Why wouldn’t you share this with me sooner?”

“It’s a special treasure reserved for awesome moments,” Lando says with a wink, and you can’t resist the charming way he always manages to make the mundane feel special.

“Alright, you win. Movie night it is!” you chirp. “But you better make that popcorn perfect, or…”

“Or what? I’ll have to serenade you?” he interjects with wink, causing a giggle to erupt from you both.

“You’d better run and get it, then!” you tease as you flail your arms dramatically, punctuating your point.

You watch as Lando slides off the bed, throwing on a T-shirt, not even bothering to get fully dressed before darting to the kitchen.

While he’s gone, you indulge Chase with a few more scratches and gentle rubs, finding solace in the way the small dog relaxes into your touch.

You love this moment, the cozy intimacy, and the way it feels like your little family is all together in this sanctuary of warmth.

Lando returns with a bowl of popcorn, grinning ear to ear like he’s just won the championship. “Tada! The prize for best boyfriend,” he announces, dramatically presenting the bowl to you.

“Now that is a worthy prize!” you laugh, taking a handful while he settles next to you, pulling both you and Chase into his arms.

You press play on the remote, the screen illuminating the dim room with the warm colors of the movie. As the opening credits roll, you lean back against Lando, enjoying his presence.

Chase shifts between you two, finding a cozy spot against your legs.

For a moment, the world outside feels far away, and it’s just the three of you. The movie is just background noise as you sink into each other’s company, laughing together, whispering jokes, and stealing kisses in between popcorn munching.

“This is perfect,” you whisper after a particularly funny scene, and Lando turns to look at you, his expression softening.

“It really is. Just us, our little family,” he replies, his voice low as he brushes a stray hair behind your ear. He shifts slightly, bringing you even closer, his warmth wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“And somehow, with Chase here, it’s even better,” you add playfully, watching as Chase squirms to get more comfortable.

“True,” Lando agrees, laughing softly. “He’s the best addition we could’ve asked for.”

The night passes in a blur of laughter, cuddles, and shared popcorn, making memories that cling to you like the warmth of Lando's embrace.

As the credits roll on the final movie, you find yourself feeling grateful for this moment, for the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat next to yours, and the constant presence of Chase, who has curled up in a contented ball at your feet.

“Can we do this again tomorrow?” you ask playfully.

“Absolutely,” Lando says with a smile, kissing your forehead before stretching luxuriously. “Every day if that’s what you want.”

With that, you settle deeper into his embrace, feeling the warmth of love wrap around you, content in the knowledge that these quiet nights are the foundation of a happiness you hope will last a lifetime.

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You quietly opened the front door, careful not to make a sound that might wake your boyfriend, Lando, or your dog, Chase.

The remnants of a night filled with laughter and dancing still tingled in your veins, igniting a rush of warmth as you stepped inside the dimly lit apartment.

Your senses were slightly dulled, having indulged a little too freely in celebratory shots and frosty cocktails, but the sight of your sanctuary—a place infused with memories of lazy afternoons and cozy movie nights—brought a smile to your slightly wobbly lips.

You tiptoed through the narrow hall, the familiar scent of sandalwood and vanilla wafting through the air, welcoming you home. As you reached the bedroom door, you pushed it open ever so gently and peeked inside.

A warm glow from the bedside lamp illuminated the room just enough for you to catch the tender scene: Lando, with his tousled hair sprawled across the pillow, and Chase, curled up against him, both seemingly serene and lost in a peaceful slumber.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at the endearing sight.

Lando had always been a snuggly sleeper, and when paired with Chase—who had an affinity for cuddling—it was a charming combination that made your heart swell with affection.

You took a moment to soak in the warmth of the image before deciding to give yourself a refreshing moment, slipping out of your party attire and into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Once the steamy spray enveloped you, you let the impulses of the night wash away. The coolness of the bathroom contrasted with the warmth of the shower, and as the hot water cascaded over you, it washed away the heaviness of the night.

You hummed softly to yourself, chasing away the fleeting thoughts of wild dance moves and flirty conversations, focusing instead on the love waiting for you out there.

After a few minutes, you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a soft towel, the cool air of the bedroom brushing against your damp skin.

You glanced toward the bed and saw Chase stirring. He stretched slightly before lifting his head, his white fur glistening in the low light.

It was moments like these that made you realise just how precious this little family was to you.

And then, without warning, Chase unfurled himself from his cozy position and sprang from Lando's grip like a spring on a watch, bounding toward you with all the enthusiasm and sincerity only a dog could possess.

"Chase! Hey buddy!" you exclaimed, instinctively kneeling down and opening your arms wide.

He galloped into your embrace, nuzzling his nose against you as you laughed softly, your heart swelling with affection.

“I missed you!” you told him, scratching behind his ears, his tail wagging furiously. The rush of love you felt was intoxicating, and for a moment, all thoughts of your night out melted away into nothingness.

As you reveled in the sweet reunion with Chase, Lando stirred, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The moment he caught sight of you kneeling on the floor with Chase beside you, a sleepy grin broke out on his face.

“Looks like someone was waiting for you,” he mumbled, his voice low and gravelly from sleep.

You smiled up at him, a little bashful. “I was just trying to sneak in and not wake you two,” you replied, feeling a subtle warmth creep over your cheeks. “But I guess Chase had other plans!”

“Yeah, he always does,” Lando chuckled, stretching and propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re home later than I expected. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, it was great! Just some dancing and drinks with the gang. But honestly, I couldn’t stop thinking about you guys. I was so excited to come home.” You paused, your heart racing a little as you spoke the words.

Deep inside, you knew there was something incredibly comforting about being home—not just in the apartment, but in the company of Lando and Chase.

Lando’s expression softened, and he sat up fully, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m glad. I was worried you might not come back for a while,” he teased, winking playfully. “I wasn’t sure how long I could have kept Chase entertained!”

You giggled, rising to your feet, both Chase and Lando now fully awake and alert.

“I can’t believe how snuggly you both look together. I wish I had a camera—cute overload!” Your heart fluttered at the idea that even in sleep, your little family brought so much joy.

“Speaking of,” Lando began, scooting over on the bed and gesturing for you to join him. “Come sit with us.”

You quickly hopped onto the bed, crawling between the sheets and cuddling up against Lando's warm side, with Chase settling in at your feet.

Lando wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You smell like fun,” he said, a teasing smile gracing his lips.

“Is that a compliment?” you retorted, nudging his shoulder playfully.

“Absolutely. Fun looks good on you.” Lando leaned down and pressed a soft kiss atop your head, sending a ripple of warmth through you.

“But I have to admit, I’m glad you’re home. It’s always better when we’re together.”

You nestled against him, resting your head on his chest as you felt the beat of his heart. “I feel the same way. It’s like I float through the night, but my anchor is always back here with you and Chase.”

Chase, perhaps sensing the tender moment between you, looked up with his big brown eyes and tilted his head, as though he were in on the secret.

You couldn’t resist giving him a scratch behind the ears, which only elicited a contented sigh from him.

"Aren't you the cutest little anchor?" you whispered playfully.

“That you are, buddy,” Lando said, reaching down to ruffle Chase’s fur. The dog responded with a delighted huff, wriggling his body in appreciation.

The three of you were a perfect triangle of comfort, an unwavering circle of love in a bustling world. Evenings like this were rare and precious—moments you cherished.

“So, what did you get up to today?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Your voice was curious, genuine interest lighting up your eyes that always captivated him.

Lando chuckled, turning to face you. “Oh, you know, the usual—work, a hundred walks and taking Chase to pee outside. I think he might be getting it.”

Chase, as if on cue, laid his head on Lando’s knee, letting out a sigh of contentment.

“Well, at least someone is satisfied with my work today,” Lando said, scritching Chase behind the ears, causing the dog to squint in pleasure.

“You’ve always had that effect on him,” you said, placing your hand over Lando’s for a brief moment, a simple gesture that spoke louder than words.

“I think he might like me more than you,” Lando teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Oh really? Is that so? Right in front of me, too? Chase!” You turned to the dog dramatically. “How could you betray your own best friend like this?”

Chase merely wagged his tail, blissfully unaware of the banter as if to say, “Sorry, not sorry,” before burying his face deeper into Lando’s lap.

Lando laughed. “I guess I just have the magic touch. It must be all those treats I give him.”

“Magic touch or bribes? You’re not fooling anyone, Lando.” You shook your head, unable to keep a straight face.

After a moment, the mood shifted a little. “We should go to sleep now, we’re meeting my parents tomorrow, remember?” you said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

It was getting late, and the thought of the impending family gathering made your stomach flutter with nerves.

Lando nodded, but there was a hint of hesitation in his voice. “I know. I just... I want everything to go well. What if they don’t like me?”

“They’ll love you,” you assured him, rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand soothingly. “Just be yourself. You know how to charm a crowd, especially with your goofy jokes.”

“Right, my jokes,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head. “I think I’ll save the ‘dad jokes’ for later. Maybe I should just stick to polite conversation.”

A soft laugh escaped you. “Polite conversation could go far, or it could bore them to tears. They’re going to want to see the real you—silly, charming, and maybe a little awkward.”

“Awkward? Me? Never.” Lando feigned shock, placing a hand on his chest dramatically. “I’m the epitome of cool.”

“Sure you are.” You smiled knowingly. “But I promise you, they will appreciate your quirks more than you think. They just want to get to know the guy their daughter is dating.”

Lando sat up a little straighter, his posture shifting into something more serious. “But what if they have questions? What if they think I’m not good enough for you?”

“Lando, stop worrying.” You leaned in closer, taking both of his hands in yours. “They’re not expecting anyone perfect, just someone who makes me happy. And spoiler alert: you do.”

He smiled, the tension crumbling between you like a sandcastle washed away by the tide. “Thank you. I guess I just want to make a good impression on them. You mean a lot to me.”

“And you mean a lot to me,” you replied softly. “The sooner you realize that, the easier this will be.”

With a deep breath, he nodded, clearly trying to shake off his nerves. “Okay then. What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Breakfast at the diner down the road, then to their house for coffee. We’ll take it easy,” you said, pulling your legs up onto Lando's to move closer, snuggling deeper against him.

“Sounds good—unless they try to feed us the mystery casserole,” Lando joked. “Then we might have a problem.”

You laughed. “I can’t promise they’ll have their best dish on that day, but I’ll bring backup snacks, just in case.”

“As long as you’re by my side, I can handle anything.” He leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours.

The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, a shared moment that felt like a promise to tackle whatever came your way.

Chase stirred slightly and stretched, yawning wide as if sensing the change in atmosphere before settling back into a comfortable position.

“I think he approves of the plan,” you whispered, glancing down at the sleepy dog, who seemed perfectly content in his little world.

Lando smiled, squeezing your hands gently. “I’m ready, then. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be great.”

“Definitely,” you said, feeling the drowsiness creeping in. Both of you started to settle in as the soft evening light faded into nighttime.

As you both surrendered to sleep, you felt grateful for this little family you had created together, intertwined through laughter, love, and even the occasional awkward moment.

Tomorrow would come with its challenges, but with Lando by your side, you knew it would all be worthwhile. . . .

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

You stood in the kitchen, a whirlwind of activity, as the smell of vanilla cake filled the air.

The clock ticked loudly in the background, each tick a reminder of the approaching moment when you would yell, “Surprise!” at your boyfriend Lando. Today's special occasion wasn't just any day; it was his birthday, a day you had been secretly planning for weeks.

You glanced towards the living room where you had set up decorations—streamers trailing down from the ceiling, colorful balloons bobbing in a corner, and a plethora of gifts waiting to be opened.

Family, friends, and their dogs had all pitched in. You couldn't wait to see Lando's face when he walked through the door; the surprise was your gift to him.

Chase, your fluffy golden retriever, sat obediently at your feet, his big brown eyes reflecting your excitement.

Normally, Chase was skittish around crowds, but you had coaxed him into staying close to you tonight.

“Just a little longer, buddy,” you whispered, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. “You’ll love seeing Daddy happy.”

The door swung open, and in walked Lando, his casual charm lighting up the room. You felt your heart flutter as you quickly gestured for everyone to hide.

The guests stilled their chatter, and you barely contained your excitement.

“Lando! You’re home!” you shouted, breaking the silence as he stepped inside, catching him off-guard. His brows furrowed in confusion before slowly transforming into realization.

“What is all this?” Lando’s voice was a mix of surprise and delight as his eyes roamed over the decorations, resting finally on the cake adorned with candles burning bright.

“Happy birthday, Lando!” you and the rest of the guests cheered, stepping out of your hiding spots with wide smiles.

Lando's face lit up brighter than the candles on the cake. “Wow, you did all this for me?” he asked, his voice warm. You could see the corners of his mouth twitch with disbelief.

“Of course! You didn’t think I’d let your birthday slip by without a party, did you?” you teased, walking over to him. He wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, lifting you slightly off the ground.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured into your hair, warmth radiating from his chest. You could almost forget the anxiety that had plagued you in the days leading up to this; seeing him smile made it all worth it.

After he greeted everyone, the cake was brought out, and the group gathered around him to sing “Happy Birthday.” You led the cacophony with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Lando chuckled, his face a perfect blend of bashfulness and joy as he blew out the candles, the wish dancing on his lips as he stole a fast glance at you.

As the cake was sliced and laughter filled the air, Chase had managed to find a cozy spot on your lap, grateful for the peace among the noise.

In fact, he looked slightly puzzled by the whole gathering of unfamiliar spirits surrounding him, opting to bury his head against you as if it might provide an invisibility cloak.

“Isn’t he the cutest?” a friend commented, pointing at Chase who had planted himself firmly into your lap.

You stroked his soft fur, providing him with reassuring pets. “I think he’s scared of us,” they added.

“He’s just a bit shy,” you replied, glancing down at Chase, who only lifted his head slightly with a soft whimper. “But he’ll warm up soon.”

Just as you were talking, Chase began to wriggle around unexpectedly, clearly seeking something—or someone. You could feel his eagerness in the way he shifted, nudging you.

“What is it, buddy?” you asked, slowly allowing him to move from your lap.

As if freed from a loose leash, Chase bounded towards Lando, catching him off-guard. His tail wagged with enthusiasm, sending a nearby glass teetering toward the edge of the table.

Lando’s face broke into a joyful grin at the sight of his dog coming alive, and it made your heart swell.

“Hey, Chase! You’re finally here!” he said, kneeling down as Chase found his place in Lando's arms.

The transformation from the scared pup to the ecstatic dog was instantaneous, and you couldn’t help but smile as Chase began licking Lando’s face animatedly, as if to say, “Happy birthday, Dad!”

“This is the best birthday gift,” Lando laughed, glancing back at you with his eyes sparkling with love. “Thanks for bringing here! Look at him! He’s so happy!”

You watched as Chase’s little tongue continued to bathe Lando’s face with affectionate licks, trying to express his own birthday wish. “Better than any present I could give you,” you said softly, crossing your arms while leaning back against the counter.

“You’re right about that,” Lando replied, grinning despite the slobber.

“And you know you’re the best present I could ever ask for.” His gaze lingered on you, the warmth of his affection palpable in the room.

As the evening wore on, laughter and chatter filled the house, enveloping everyone in a cocoon of joy.

You walked back to find more snacks for your guests, the melodies of chatter and occasional barks from Chase as he played tug-of-war in the background creating a cheerful, lively atmosphere.

When you returned with a tray of snacks, Lando spotted you and called, “You know, I keep expecting another surprise—like you revealing a hidden talent or something.”

“Oh, please! Not all of us are as talented as you,” you laughed, rolling your eyes dramatically. “What would I even showcase?”

“Juggling? Singing? Interpretive dance?” he teased, showing his cheeky side as he approached, Chase still at his heels.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you said, leaning into him playfully.

As the night continued with games and heartfelt conversations, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of pure bliss. In the moment, with Chase happily rolling around at Lando’s feet while laughter floated through the room, the pressures of life faded into the background.

Here, surrounded by friends and love, everything felt perfect.

As you nestled up next to Lando later that evening, sharing your warm spot on the couch with Chase snuggled between you both, you realized that just like the candles on the cake, these moments were to be cherished—light against the darkness, warmth against the cold.

“Happy birthday, Lando,” you whispered, leaning closer.

“Happy birthday, indeed,” he replied, his smile contagious.

All could be perfect birthdays that lead to unforgettable memories, yet this one would stay forever etched in your heart—a night of laughter, love, and your little family: you, Lando, and Chase. . .

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jamil Viper - Nightmare Suit Voice Lines

Everybody's waiting for the next surprise. In this town, try not to jump out of your skin. (Zero: Bark, bark, bark!)

Summon: This is Halloween! It doesn't matter where we are, it seems what we all have in common is that we want to celebrate and have fun on Halloween.

Groovification: Hahah, I can hear the screams echoing all across town. This ended up being a fantastic Halloween. (Zero: Bark, bark!)

Home: I'll be as gentlemanly as I can.

Swap Looks: Zero, don't romp around too much (Zero: Bark!)

Home Transition 1: As I listen to the sound of the fountain in the town square, I'm reminded of Scarabia. That is... as long as I don't look too carefully at the color of the water.

Home Transition 2: I was thinking this suit was surprisingly comfortable and as it turns out, each individual material making up this outfit seems to be of high-quality. It's rather extravagant...

Home Transition 3: I thought I heard a cat crying, but I soon learned it was the town alarm system... It gives off a bit of an intimidating feeling.

Home Transition - Login 1: There's werewolves, vampires, and other creatures I've never witnessed before... Who would have ever thought there'd be a strange world like this!

Home Transition - Login 2 (Swap Looks): Do you want to go for a walk? I'll go with you. This town under the moonlit sky is actually really beautiful. (Zero: Bark, bark!)

Home Transition - Groovy: I'm surprised you're fine after all those scares. You must really be thick-skinned... Hey, don't get mad, it's a compliment.

Home Tap 1: I see the sconces in the town hall were designed to look like snakes. I rather liked them. Maybe I should look for something similar one of these days.

Home Tap 2: Looks as though Jack-san's got pretty nimble fingers. Did you see how perfectly he made that card tower...? I wonder who would be more dexterous: him or Ace?

Home Tap 3: While Trey was trying to make some snacks, the pumpkin he started to cut started to move... Heh, I never thought I'd ever seen him of all people startle like that.

Home Tap 4: The cuisine here is just as bizarre ―ah, ahem, I mean... unique― as the townsfolk. I rather enjoyed talking about cooking with Sally-san.

Home Tap 5: It seems Malleus-senpai has taken to strolling around Halloween Town. The word is that he's searching for gargoyles, but I'm sure that's not the case.

Home Tap - Groovy: The Mayor and I are similar? How...? Because we're both two-faced? Heh, you sure don't pull your punches anymore.

Duo: [JAMIL]: We'll have them trembling with fear, Riddle. [RIDDLE]: I am fully prepared, Jamil.

Requested by @farfalla049.

[dismightyman]

There was always a hesitance for Soap when it came to the more deeply personal aspects of Ghost. Even with how brazen he was when they started their partnership he wasn't stupid. As hot as it made him under the collar, that mask ghost wore was a bright neon sign that screamed Fuck Off. 

More often than not he towed the line. Hell you could say he danced on it occasionally when the situation allowed, but when Ghost was well and truly shutting him out he knew when to let it go. It’s a source of great internal pride for him to be able to read Ghost well enough to push his buttons while avoiding pushing him to his breaking point. 

As they got closer, there was a larger pool of tolerance for his specific flavor of boldness. The answers to semi-personal questions getting longer, less clipped. The dumb hypotheticals he’d toss out to fill the silence as they smoked were given more thought, instead of outright dismissals he used to get.

Then they fell in bed together for the first time and it was like a flood gate was opened. 

The touches between them got more sure, more intentional. The tidbits that made up Ghost more readily found, and if he didn’t know any better, almost placed at his feet. Just begging to be picked up and stowed away in the little box in his chest that was solely for Ghost. To be seen, judged and found worthy of not just Ghost, but Simon himself was worth more to him than any medal or accolade could ever be. 

It wasn’t just the getting to know Simon that truly made this something Soap cherished, but the fact that Simon seemed to enjoy getting to know him in return. The intentional work to learn what made him tick, what made Soap Johnny and vice versa. It solidified in his mind that this wasn’t just a fling, a rough romp in the barracks sheets every now and again. This in all its fucked up gory messy glory, was love. 

Over the years he’s picked up on a few things that Simon does in his spare time. Not just for maintaining himself and his gear or staying sane, but for actual fun and pleasure. The biggest thing though was the models. 

He told Soap once after a nightmare and a fucking freezing night smoking through an entire pack, that his favorite thing he ever got for Christmas one year was a little model train his mom had gotten him after his father had left the house. 

“It was shite.” He said fondly. His eyes were settled somewhere on the horizon, far away and glassy. 

“The wood was so brittle it snapped more often than it didn’t… and the paint, fucking don’t get me started on the paint…” the small barely there smile he wore as he described the way the cheap paint streaked on the toy made it into Soaps journal that very next day. 

The next time he saw this side of Simon was the first time he’d stayed at his little flat in Manchester. They’d gotten leave together after an OP went slightly south leaving him with a concussion and Simon with a broken wrist. With a very pointed look from Price and a cheeky “Don’t have too much fun mate” from Gaz they were on a train headed north. 

As they made their way up the stairs to his front door, Simon stopped. 

“Before we go in there’s something I should probably mention…” Normally the eye black covered everything except his eyes. Since they were traveling as civilians Simon only had a black medical mask and a cap to cover himself. He apparently learned the hard way how nosey some people would be when he tried to walk the street in a skull balaclava. The blush that sat faintly high on his cheeks was a beautiful surprise and then some.

“Got a wee wife and bairn hidden away ere’ I don’ know about?” Soap said with a bit of a chuckle and a raised eyebrow.

Johnny knew from the crinkles next to his eyes that he was smiling, Simon let out an overly dramatic sigh before speaking again.

“Piss off Mactavish, if anything you’re the wee wife…” he grumbled out, shifting slightly from one foot to the other before he continued. 

“It’s just… I’ve never really… let anyone in here before and there’s…” he trails off looking anywhere but at Soap. 

He grabs Simon’s good hand to get his eyes back on him.

“Unless ye got dead people hanging up to dry on yer ceiling, I doubt whatever yer dancing around is bad enough to turn me off of you” he starts with humor before taking a more serious tone.

“I’ve seen you open a man from navel to chin and grin while you do it… I’m more than gone on you Simon and nothin’ short of Hell freezin’ over is gonna change that” he says lowering his tone to a level that's just for them.  “Honestly, probably not even that would do it” he finishes with a wink. 

“Jesus Johnny…” Simon sighed in a surprised exhale, his blush deepening to a delightfully deep pink.

Without another word he turns, unlocks his flat and steps inside. 

For the most part, in Jonny’s opinion anyway, it’s a fairly normal space for a single active duty man like Simon. There’s a kitchen to the left and a living room to the right with a hallway leading to what he can only assume is the bedroom. The furniture he can see looks old and mismatched, like he grabbed it all from a second hand shop. It's charming in its own way, nothing matches but it somehow all works. As he slips off his shoes by the door he’s mildly confused by the reaction out front, until he sees the wall on the other side of the living room, hidden by the little wall in the entryway. 

As Simon stands sheepishly next to the display he gets a good look at frankly the largest collection of model trains he’s ever seen. From carpet to ceiling there are shelves loaded with tiny dioramas. However as he steps closer and gets a better look he realizes all of the trains are in some stage of destruction. Some torn in pieces, others on fire with tiny people inside panicking, there’s one, he realizes, that’s an almost spot on recreation of a blown out train they had tracked down and eventually killed an HVT in about a year ago. 

After a long moment of soap simply absorbing everything, he turns to ghost standing stock still next to the wall. His eyes assessing, taking in every minor move or facial expression, waiting for some kind of negative reaction he’s sure.

Soap doesn’t let that stand for a minute longer.

“If I told you tha’ this is one of the hottest things I think I’ve ever seen would you believe me?” He’s probably laying it on a little thick but honestly it’s the truth. The level of detail, the time soap knows is required for something like this. The steady hand needed to get the tiniest lines painted straight. It’s a show of skill that he finds very very attractive.

“You’d have made a hell of a demo specialist if you hadn’t been so good with a blade, Jesus Simon how long this take you?” He breathes out, awe heavy in his voice. He steps closer to the wall taking in the finer details. On one shelf closer to eye level, there’s a train car mid crash held up by the thinnest of wire. It’s almost invisible if he hadn’t been looking so hard for it. The people inside are in varying states of being tossed around, upon closer inspection he can see little bloody hand prints on one of the windows. 

“For all of it?” Simon asks stepping closer now that he’s determined soap isn’t taking the piss

“I don’t really keep time when I work on them… I’ve been making these since… well since I started wearing the mask” he’s slowly unwinding the tension out of his shoulders as he talks. 

“Before I just did the regular trains you know, but after… everything it just didn't… feel right anymore, didn't give me the same release, didn't feel like me.” he paused every now and again seeming to look for the right words. 

“Therapist suggested I change what I build to make it different like how I felt different.” he says with audible mirth 

“Not sure this is what she meant but… it worked… so I just kept at it and…” he trails off with a gesture at the wall. 

Soap takes a minute to let that sink in, remembering the bits and pieces Ghost has let slip. He's reminded of the conversation about his mother and it kinda clicks into place. This is Simon's way of connecting the two. The inherent violence of Ghost melding with the memory of who Simon used to be. After a moment Soap moves to wrap his arms around Simon. Gently taking his face in his hands to place a sweet little peck on his lips before pulling back.

“Thank you Simon, fer sharin’ this with me” he says so quietly it's damn near a whisper.

The real genuine smile Ghost grants him is one of the most beautiful things Soaps ever seen. The rest of that leave is spent with Ghost walking through every train disaster he’s ever modeled and them fucking in every room of the house so much so the neighbor comes over to complain about the noise. Twice. 

After they get back Soap starts to pay more attention when he gets to hang out in Simon's room on base. He never clocked it before but after Ghost shows him his little model supply drawer, he notices that ghost is constantly collecting those little aluminum mint tins. The box Simon pulls out of the back of his closet is filled with the things. All of them contain little versions of natural disasters or in several notable exceptions, a terrorist attack or two. He explains to Soap that it's easier to keep them when they are moved from base to base when his whole collection fits in a 4x4 box. He finds out Price is Ghost’s main supplier of the tins, and the ensuing laps he runs in punishment are totally worth calling Price out for the old man he is. (Gaz had to join him in his laps after hearing this and laughing so hard he had to hold the wall for support)

Later on, when Simon brought him to that little cottage in the hills with several bottles of their respective poison, no one for miles, and a bomb made of legos and live class A explosives. An idea that had been percolating was solidified into action. It took a few favors from his sister and a frankly large hit to a few of his paychecks but he would be ready the next time they’d get to share leave.

 Keeping his plan secret from Simon was harder than he thought it would be. Everytime he was lazing about in Simon's bed scribbling in his journal watching him so focused on his projects, he was so tempted to spill and tell him everything. But his opportunity came around sooner than he thought it would. 

Price had announced after a successful round of back to back missions that the 141 had earned some R&R. Apparently there were enough happy parties in the upper brass that they felt the need to reward the taskforce for the good behavior. When the debrief was ending and everyone was piling out Soap leaned over to Ghost to offer his place up this time around. Ghost didn't need much persuading as two days later they were once again on the train north. 

Soap only started to feel anxious as they were making their way up the foot path to the front door. In a comically similar way Soap stopped Simon before he put his keys in the lock. 

“I have a little surprise for ye” he says with a nervous little grin. 

“Do you have people hanging from your ceiling? Or is there a… how did you say it last time… A wee little family I don't know about Johnny?”  Simon is smiling as he pokes fun at him from the last time they did this. 

“You’d love that wouldn’ you, crazy bastard” Soap chuckles. “ No, nothing so devious, just a little something i've wanted to show ye for a while now”

Without waiting for Simon to respond he unlocks his door and pushes in, flicking on the lights. He makes his way into the front room knowing Simon is right on his six. When they are both fully in the room he steps to the side to let Simon see his surprise for the first time.

 Placed right in front of the large window facing the street is a solid wooden work table. He’d looked for quite a while to find something that would match Ghost's height if he felt like standing and would be solid enough to last for years without wear and tear. Getting his sister to watch the house while it was delivered and get the thing put together was gonna cost him some serious sibling karma but it was well worth it. 

Along the back of the table was a small shelf containing every single color of model paint he could get his hands on. He made sure to grab the brand he remembered Simon talking about loving to use but always passing on as he thought it was too expensive. He also made sure to get the brushes he noticed were used the most when he actually was around to watch Simon work. 

Ghost was locked in place staring in disbelief at the station, Soap isn't sure he blinks for a solid minute and a half. 

“Is this for me?” Ghost asks sounds ten years younger as he turns to look soap in the eye.

“Yeah Darlin’ course tha’s for you! If I drag you home with me I wan’ you to be able to do what makes you happy… I want this to feel like home for you too” it's said in a slight rush, like Soap is worried Simon might somehow misunderstand what this means to him. 

Simon takes slow steps towards the table as he looks it over, running his hands on the smooth tops and feeling the sturdiness of it as he pushes on it slightly. He damn near picks up every bottle of paint to look at the colors before feeling the bristles on the brushes. 

“Johnny” Simon says, it sounds a little croaky and Soap thinks hes fucked up majorly before Simon speaks again.

“I love you” he turns to face Soap, he’s not crying, there’s no tears, but he’s a little misty eyed.

 “I love you so fucking much” he sets down the brush he was fiddling with as he takes quick steps to where johnny has been standing. The kiss he plants on Soap is deep and full of just about everything else Ghost didn’t say. When he finally lets him come up for air Soap chuckles.

“You like it?” Soap asks as he lightly scratches his fingers through the short hair at Simon nape. 

“It's fuckin’ perfect Johnny” he says as he goes back in for another deep kiss. It's not until the next afternoon he actually gets to use any of it. 

(this is for @leathfaic who inspired this mess, I wrote it all then read through it but that's about the max editing its gonna get so if you see a mistake fix it in your head and keep rolling. this is my first non OC fic writing so enjoy fellas, if i ever write again it'll be a miracle)

[bat-mom-writer]

Four Left Feet

(Sons) Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne X

Reader(mom)

Bruce Wayne(husband) X Reader(wife)

Summery: You want to teach your sons tango, but it turns into a mess of fun.

Rating: Fluff

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

"Why we doing this again?" Tim mumbled, tugging at his collar as he stared down at his feet.

"Yeah, it's not exactly a Bat-skill," Jason quipped, earning a playful swat on the arm from Dick.

You, watched the three young men with a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. Dick, ever the charmer, had agreed to the lessons with ease. Tim, the cautious one, was probably just here to appease you. Jason, well, you hadn't quite figured out his angle yet. Damain, the youngest, was still too young to fully grasp the concept of dance, let alone tango.

"Because, my dear wards," you began, your voice as smooth as silk, "grace and poise are just as important as strength and strategy." you gestured to the grand ballroom, the chandeliers casting a warm glow over the gleaming wooden floor. "Besides, I've seen you four dance before at charity galas. We're just… fine-tuning your skills."

"Fine," you said, turning on the music. The dramatic opening notes of a tango filled the room. You stepped forward, extending your hand to Dick, who took it with a grin. "Now come here, I'll show you how it's done."

Dick's posture straightened as he stepped closer, your palms touching. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the room around you melted away. "Your left foot forward," you instructed, guiding his leg with yours. "Now, right, left." Dick followed your lead, his movements surprisingly graceful for someone who'd spent more time fighting in the shadows than gliding across a dance floor. You felt a surge of pride. Maybe he had picked up some moves from watching Bruce.

The tension grew as you stepped back, pulling him closer. "To the right," you say, your breath brushing against his cheek. The tango was a dance of passion and control, and it was clear that Dick was trying his best to master it.

Tim, Damian, and Jason watched on, their initial skepticism giving way to curiosity. "Okay, okay," Dick said with a playful smile, finally finding his rhythm. His movements grew more confident, his steps quickening to match the tempo of the music. The smile on your face grew wider.

With a dramatic flourish, Dick spun you around. The fabric of your dress fluttered out like a cloud of moonlight. As he pulled you back in, your bodies connected in a perfect arc, the tension palpable. The way he moved, the way he led, it was as if he'd been born for this.

Jason's eyebrow shot up, a hint of admiration in his gaze. "Alright, I might just have to give this a try," he said, taking a step forward. His tone had shifted from mocking to competitive.

You turned to him, holding out your hand. "Come here," you said, your smile challenging.

Jason grinned and stepped up, taking your hand. He didn't even pretend to do the tango, instead opting to mess around, pulling you into a series of improvised moves. His movements were rough around the edges, but there was a playful grace to them that spoke of a natural athlete.

"You're not even trying," you chuckled, trying to keep your balance.

"I'm just not a 'tango' kind of guy," Jason said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now follow my lead. One, two, five, ten, four."

You couldn't help but laugh as you allowed him to lead you through his chaotic improvisation. He was a whirlwind of energy, making up steps as he went, turning the elegant dance into a playful romp around the ballroom. Despite the lack of structure, there was something infectious about his enthusiasm, and you found yourself enjoying the moment.

"And now, for the show stopper," Jason said, his grip on your hand tightening. Before you could protest or ask what he had in mind, he dipped you low, your back almost parallel to the floor. You let out a gasp of surprise that turned into a laugh as he held you there, his strength surprisingly gentle. The room tilted around you, the chandeliers spinning in a dizzying display of light.

"Jason!" you exclaimed, your heart racing, but his smirk told you he had it all under control. With a swift pull, he brought you back up to standing, your cheeks flushed with excitement.

With a smirk still playing on his lips, Jason executed a dramatic bow, the kind that would have earned him a standing ovation from a Broadway audience.

"Your turn, Tim," you said, turning to the youngest of the bunch, who was now watching with a mix of envy and apprehension.

Tim took a deep breath and stepped up, his eyes darting to Dick and Jason before returning to yours. You placed one hand in his and rested the other on his shoulder. "Don't worry, I've got you."

As the music began, Tim's gaze remained glued to the floor, his eyes flicking up only briefly to check on yours. His steps were tentative at first, as if the floor might give way beneath him.

"Relax, Tim," you murmured, your voice a gentle encouragement.

Tim nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. The music swelled, and you began to guide him through the steps, moving slowly to help him find his rhythm. His movements were rigid at first, his mind likely racing with thoughts of missteps and embarrassment. But as the song progressed, you could feel him start to let go, his body loosening up as he began to trust both you and the music.

"Look at me," you instructed, lifting his chin with a gentle touch. His eyes met yours, and you saw the fear begin to dissipate, replaced by a flicker of determination. You stepped back, pulling him closer in a traditional tango embrace. "You're doing great."

Tim's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, but he managed a small smile. As the music grew more intense, so did the dance. You could feel him trying to keep up, his movements becoming more fluid as he allowed the music to guide him. His steps grew surer, his body moving in time with yours, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest.

"Good," you said, your voice low and encouraging. "I believe I could make a tango dancer out fo you yet."

Tim's eyes widened in surprise, and he stumbled slightly, breaking the rhythm. "Don't push it," he murmured, his smile a little self-conscious.

You rolled your eyes playfully, then chuckled. "Oh, come on. You can do better than that." With a sudden, surprising twirl, you spun him around, watching as his expression shifted from concentration to shock, and then back to determination.

Tim's feet stumbled a bit, but he quickly regained his footing, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity. "I thought I was the gentlemen here," he said with a smirk.

You winked at him. "Sometimes, it's good to keep everyone on their toes. Sometimes literally."

Damian watched the two of you with curiosity, his young eyes taking in every move. He tapped his foot in time to the music, the only indication that he was absorbing the lesson. He was still too young to truly understand the dance, but the rhythm called to him, and he was eager to join in.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. Despite being Bruce's biological son, he was the most unpredictable of the bunch. "Alright, little one," you said, holding out your hand. "Let's see what you've got."

Damian looked up at you with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. He was only eight, and his understanding of the tango was probably limited to what he'd seen in cartoons, but you had a feeling he'd surprise you. He took your hand, his small palm fitting perfectly in yours.

"Okay," you said, crouching down to his level. "We're going to start slow." The music softened, a more gentle tune playing to suit his age. "Just follow me. Left foot, right left, good."

Damian's eyes narrowed in concentration as he stepped in time with the beat. His movements were awkward, his feet stumbling over themselves occasionally, but he had a fiery determination in his eyes that was impossible to miss.

"Good," you said, keeping your voice soft and encouraging. "Remember, it's about the passion, not the perfection."

Damian scoffed, his little brows furrowed in concentration. "I have passion," he said, trying to mimic the intense gaze you'd shared with the others. "But I do not find it in this… tango."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing through the ballroom. "Fine," you said, ruffling his hair gently. "But keep an open mind. You never know when you might need to charm a lady at a gala."

"Mother, I'm eight," Damian said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "The only woman I would find myself dancing with is Jason."

The room erupted in laughter, even Jason couldn't help but chuckle at the innocent jab. "Hey! I have you know I would look dashing in a dress," he said, striking a dramatic pose.

You couldn't hold back your laughter any longer, it bubbled out of you like a fountain, filling the air with warmth. "Oh, you certainly would," you said, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. "But let's focus on the tango, shall we?"

"Yes, let us get back to work," Jason said, a glint in his eye. "Now step out of the way, Mother," he teased, gently pushing you aside. "Let the master be the teacher. Come here, Damian."

Before Damian could protest, Jason had him scooped up in his arms, his little legs dangling in the air. You watched, a mix of amusement and concern playing across your face.

"Jason, what are you doing?" you asked, trying to keep your tone light.

"Teaching him the 'Bat-Tango' move," he said with a wink.

Damian's eyes widened as Jason held him close, moving him through the air in a series of twists and turns that were more acrobatic than graceful. The boy's laughter filled the room, echoing off the high ceilings at Jason's movements.

"Put me down!" he squealed, his giggles only adding to the chaos.

"The trick is to not put your dance partner down for any reason," Jason said to the others, as he spun him around in mid-air.

Dick, ever the showman, took your hand again. "Well, whatever teachers say," he quipped, and before you had a chance to react, he swept you into the air, your legs hanging lose. Your heart skipped a beat, a thrill shooting through you as he whirled you around the room.

"Dick!" you exclaimed, half in protest, half in delight. His arms were strong around you, moving with the same precision and grace as when he fought crime as Nightwing. The world around you was a blur of color and light as he danced with you in a way that defied gravity.

Jason fake gasps, stilling holding Damian, "You dare to challenge the 'Bat-Tango'?"

"I do," Dick said, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "And not only do I, but I dare say, I do it better."

With that, he spun you around faster, your dress billowing out around you like a cloud of silk. The wind from the spin kissed your cheeks, your hair swirling in a dance of its own. You gasped, half in shock, half in exhilaration.

"Is that all you've got, Grayson?" Jason called out, noticing the heightened tempo. He swung Damian around with surprising agility.

"I'm going to be sick," Damian complained, his little face a mix of excitement and queasiness.

"This should be called the 'Ragdoll-ango,'" Tim quipped, watching from the sidelines as Jason continued to whirl Damian around in a series of moves that were more suited to a circus act than a dance floor.

"You dare in the Bat-tango?" Jason repeated, his voice filled with mock indignation as he set Damian down gently. The little boy stumbled a bit, his legs wobbly from the dizzying experience, but his eyes were alight with excitement. "For your insulative comment, you're my next partner."

With that, Jason reached out and grabbed Tim, who squeaked in protest. "I was joking!"

But Tim's protests fell on deaf ears as Jason whirled him around in a series of moves that were more wrestling than tango. The room was filled with laughter and the sound of their footsteps echoing off the polished floors.

"Okay, okay! Put me down before I throw up on you!" you called out to Dick, your voice a mix of playfulness and actual dizziness. Dick set you down gently, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the dance. "Show-off," you murmured, though your own smile was just as wide.

"But you love me non the less," Dick quipped, his hand still holding yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand gently.

"Yes, I do," you replied, your voice filled with warmth. Despite the chaos, there was something beautiful in the camaraderie, in the way the boys had come to see this as more than just a dance lesson, but a chance to connect. You looked over at Tim, his cheeks flushed from the spinning. He was trying to regain his balance, his eyes on the floor as if the answers to his disorientation lay there.

"Okay, okay! Jason, I think you've tortured him enough," you called out, a hint of laughter in your voice.

Jason looked at Tim, his face a shade greener than before. "Oh, come on," he said, his grin not quite reaching his eyes. "It's all part of the training."

"Training for what?" Tim managed to ask, his voice wobbly. "Barfing in public?"

"Jason, drop him," you said, your tone firm but playful, as if you were speaking to a mischievous dog.

Jason's eyes narrowed slightly, and he bent his knees, preparing to set Tim down. But his grip didn't loosen. "Jason," you repeated, your voice a gentle warning.

Jason smirked, his eyes flashing with playful rebellion. "No, Jason." you said again, your voice carrying an underlying current of seriousness. But the look on his face told you that he had no intention of stopping his little game.

"Jason, no!" you called out, but it was too late. With a mischievous grin, he dashed away out of the ball room and into the hall, Tim's legs kicking in the air like a ragdoll.

Dick's eyes lit up with the chase, and before you could blink, he had scooped Damian up into his arms. "Come, little brother, we must save our brother from our brother!" he declared with a dramatic flair.

"Oh brother," Damian muttered, his expression a mask of feigned boredom. Dick sprints off after Jason, Damian being swung side to side with each stride.

You watch them disappear down the hall, the laughter fading into the distance. The ballroom feels eerily quiet in their wake, the music continuing to play but the dance floor now abandoned. You take a moment to catch your breath, a soft smile lingering on your lips.

"Guess I wouldn't get to teach any tango," you murmur to yourself, the words carrying a hint of amusement.

Suddenly the music began again, "Not with them at least."

You whipped around to find Bruch standing beside the sound system, a knowing smirk on his face. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching the chaos with a hint of amusement. You couldn't help but smile back at him. He'd been so busy with Wayne Enterprises that he'd missed the start of the lesson.

"I couldn't help but notice that we have a few… unorthodox… tango moves going on here," Bruce said, stepping onto the dance floor.

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the smirk that tugged at your lips. "I had it all under control until Jason decided to turn it into an acrobatics show."

Bruce chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling in the chandelier light. He stepped closer, extending his hand to you. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Care to show me what you've been working on?"

You took his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin against yours. As the music played on, you stepped into Bruce's embrace, your bodies moving together in perfect sync, as if you'd been doing this dance for years. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close, his eyes never leaving yours. The tension between you was palpable, a silent communication of trust and understanding.

"You tease," you say with a playful smirk, your voice low and intimate. "You already know how to tango."

Bruce raises an eyebrow, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. "Do I?" he questions, the corners of his mouth lifting. He's footwork is precise, each step measured and deliberate. The dance floor seems to shrink around you as you glide in perfect unison. The tango is a dance of passion and control, and in that moment, you could feel the full extent of Bruce's control, not just in his dance, but in his life as well.

"Well, I'm a bit rusty." he admitted, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. But his movements said otherwise. He was as smooth and in command as the night he'd first swept you off your feet.

"Such a liar," you whispered, your eyes locked with his. His gaze was intense, as if he could see straight to your soul.

Bruce leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Am I?"

You met his gaze, a challenge in your eyes. "You're just showing off again."

"Only for you," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His movements grew more intimate, the tango becoming a silent conversation between your bodies. Each step was filled with a subtle tension that spoke of the love and trust that existed between the two of you. Despite the chaos of the evening, in this moment, it was as if you were the only two people in the world.

The music grew louder, the strings more insistent, as Bruce spun you around the room, the fabric of your dress swirling around your legs like a second skin. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and the faint smell of leather from your cloths, but it was the scent of Bruce, the scent of home, that filled your senses.

As the tango grew more intense, the boys' laughter and shouts from the hallway grew fainter, until it was just the two of you, dancing as if the fate of Gotham rested on the beat of your hearts. Bruce's grip was firm, yet gentle, guiding you through the intricate steps with a confidence that was as reassuring as it was thrilling.

With a dramatic dip, he lowered you, your back arching gracefully, your hair brushing the floor. The chandeliers above cast a dizzying pattern of light and shadow across the room, making it feel like you were dancing in the heart of a diamond. For a moment, you were suspended in time, the world around you fading away as you looked into the depths of his eyes.

Then, with surprising gentleness, he pulled you back up, your bodies molding together as one. The music grew softer, the steps more deliberate, as if the world had slowed to match the tempo of your hearts. You could feel the tension in the room shift, the playfulness of earlier replaced by something deeper, something raw and real.

Bruce's hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, his thumb tracing gentle circles. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his chest, the steady beat of his heart. The tango was a dance of passion, and in that moment, it was as if the dance had become a physical manifestation of your love.

The music reached a crescendo, and Bruce spun you out, only to pull you back in, your chests brushing together. The air was charged with energy, and the room seemed to hold its breath as you moved in perfect harmony. Your heart pounded in your chest, the thrill of the dance mirroring the excitement of your early days together, fighting crime side by side.

As the song approached its end, Bruce's steps grew more deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. He leaned in, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you, but instead, he whispered, "You're right, I am showing off."

You grinned, "Know it," and with that, the dance ended with a dramatic flourish, leaving you both standing in the center of the ballroom, breathless.

The sudden silence was broken by the distant sound of yelling, echoing down the hall. The laughter and shouts grew louder, and you couldn't help but worry that the boys had gotten into some kind of trouble.

You sigh, "Lovely while it lasted." The brief moment of tranquility dissipates as the chaos of your unconventional family life crashes back in.

Bruce's smile grew into a chuckle, his eyes alight with amusement. "Yes, it was," he said, his voice a warm rumble in the quiet room. "But the night is young, and I suspect we'll have more opportunities to dance like that."

The words hung in the air, a promise of future moments of shared intimacy and joy, a stark contrast to the life of shadows and danger they often led. You leaned into him, feeling the strength of his embrace, and whispered, "We shall dance again soon, Mr. Wayne."

With a chuckle, Bruce took a few steps back, his hand still holding yours, and bowed deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. It was a gesture that spoke of respect and affection, a reminder of the gentleman he was beneath the cape and cowl. "I await for it," he said, his voice filled with warmth and mischief. He kissed the back of your hand, his lips lingering for a beat longer than necessary. The touch was electric, sending a jolt through your body and igniting a fire in your soul.

You curtsied in response, your heart racing from the intimacy of the moment. "I'll hold you to that," you whispered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

[aniharas]

skinnydipping with felix catton...

drabble warnings: explicit language, sexual content, exhibitionism(?), mention of drugs

...was not on your to-do list this summer. sure, you knew your boyfriend was the embodiment of reckless fun, and that’s why you liked him. unfortunately, this meant many rudely awoken mornings and no opportunities to sleep in. you would whine every time he yanked the covers off of you, though you didn’t complain. the summer heat during your stay at saltburn was no joke.

at first, you always questioned why he always seemed to want to do those things in the morning. felix would always scoff, saying his family was unbearable since you were the first girl he brought home. early morning was the best time to avoid them. surely saltburn was big enough for you both to find a secluded place for some privacy, right?

his claims about his family would be proven right. mrs. catton would always helicopter the both of you whenever you were outside; she even caught you straddling felix at the heart of the hedge maze. mr. catton was always lurking in the castle. doing anything with felix at night would mean that farleigh would find out, and his ears seemed to pick up everything. you’d only get lucky with venetia around, at times being too inebriated to care or even notice.

felix would always wake you up the same, his large hands smoothing up the curves of your body before he’d climb on top of you. “mornin’,” he’d coo in your ear, thumb stroking your cheek. “got a surprise for you. maids’ve left you some breakfast. meet me by the lake.” the surprises would range from watching the sunrise to having a romp in the vast fields as you licked coke off his abs. needless to say, you were ready to expect anything. at least, you thought you were.

he would leave you to eat your breakfast, but not before planting a hungry kiss to your lips, muttering “don’t be late” as he squeezed your ass gently. you’d quickly scarf down your food, throwing on light clothing so you weren’t absolutely drenched in your own sweat as you ran to meet him.

and today, he stood on the walkway by the lake with that stupid grin on his face, a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. two bicycles were parked on either side of him. “snagged the good ones,” he bragged, obviously proud of the achievement.

at first, you thought, ‘really? biking at 8 in the morning?’ but it was only when felix eagerly pushed one bike your way that you thought, maybe it wasn’t so bad as long as he was this happy.

and you were right. you and felix cycled around almost the entire perimeter of saltburn, sweat trickling down your foreheads and backs as the both of you endlessly chatted about what shenanigans happened in the castle the day prior. sometimes, he’d shout, “race you!”, and then take off speeding without even giving you time to react. of course, you wouldn’t indulge him in his competitive fetish, but it left you giggling every time.

after a while, the both of you ended up back at the small lake you had rendezvoused at just before 11 am. the sweat had thoroughly soaked through the white tank top you had thrown on that day, the transparency revealing the skin underneath. maybe you shouldn’t have skipped on wearing your training bra. as the both of you panted to catch your breath, felix’s gaze locked onto your chest, eyes darkening the longer he looked. then, he instantly threw off his shirt while begging you to get in.

“come on then, how else are we gonna cool off?” “felix, i can’t. i...don’t have anything under.” “n’ you think i can’t see that? just take it off, darling. i’ll strip too. get your knickers off.”

you were shy as you cautiously stripped off your clothes, felix teasing you every so often as he’s “already seen it all before”. he had all of his clothes off before you could even protest, wading into the water.

he was sweet and caring as he guided you into the cold, refreshing water, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. he laughed at the way your teeth chattered at the feeling of the water enveloping your bare body. although the water was shallow, you still gripped onto his frame tightly to hide your chest.

at first, the both of you just swam about, getting into major splash fights and once again, felix initiating his one-sided races against you. when you finally caught up to him, he scooped you up into his arms, leaving you giggling relentlessly.

it was only then you felt a warm, tingling feeling in your abdomen as you wrapped your legs around him, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. he tasted like tobacco and remnants of the lake water, the taste becoming more and more prominent as his lips began to devour yours.

he was always the handsy type while making out, not missing a beat as he ran his hands all over your slick body, massaging and squeezing at all your right spots. that’s what you liked about him too, he always remembered how make you melt into him, even more than the summer heat.

the makeout sessions usually didn’t last long, and that proved to be true once again as he held you tight and carried you out of the water. the immediate bite of cold that hit was immeasurable to the heat radiating off of his bare, toned body. your heat brushed against him with each step he took, leaving you whining in his ear, begging for him to let you take him.

felix was never one to waste time, sprawling you out on the grassy shore, before immediately burying his face into your cunt. his tongue always worked wonders for you, but today it felt different. maybe it was the way the warmth of his tongue was so mind boggling after the dip in the lake, maybe it was the tension that was building the longer you swam naked together. regardless, it had you squeezing your thighs around his head, fingers desperately tugging at his soft, brunette locks as his name tumbled from your lips.

he’d groan in response, the vibration surging from his plush lips against your heat so deliciously, a string of curses left your mouth as you threw your head back. he lapped at your folds relentlessly, navigating you with such ease that made you wonder if he knew your body better than you did. the tip of his tongue flicked torturously at your clit, leaving you writhing about just the same way you would if you were in the castle’s finest bed sheets. with felix, it always felt so good, dare you say better each time. it was something you never wanted to grow used to or tired of.

and the way felix stretched you out was something you knew you’d never tire of. his relentless gait rocked your body up and down, leaving your eyes to roll back up into your head with the warm pleasure that spread through your whole body. it was only then that he finally spoke between his grunts, his words, just like before, caring and guiding. “that’s it, baby.” “you’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well.” “keep sayin’ my name babe– just like that.”

you always knew that the moment you looked in his eyes and cried out his name in a way you only knew how, he’d come undone. this time, he let out a strained cry of your name, spilling thick spurts of his seed inside you, overflowing from your cunt almost as if he hadn’t been fucking you every day. you shortly followed, your walls gripping him so tightly as your orgasm left you convulsing.

felix collapsed on top of you just like he had done this morning, the remnants of lake water falling from his hair and onto your neck as he rested his head in the valley of your cleavage. the both of you watched as a stream of your combined fluids traveled from between your legs and down towards the lake, weaving between the strands of flattened grass before it dripped into the murky water. he went back to stroking your face, the lull of your heartbeat easing his own.

“shit– that was inside, huh?” “yeah. i’m on the pill, it’s alright.” “since when?” “your mum slipped me some when i first got here.” “...this family’s fuckin' embarrassing.”

a/n: first time for felix AND first time posting a drabble! ik its a bit long for a drabble but its a lot shorter and different than what i'm used to writing. thank u to miss @loveliestlovelygirl for the drabble idea. ur mind is unmatched. i hope you all enjoy! likes , reblogs , and ur thoughts r appreciated :) inbox is open for any requests!!

masterlist.

[ladybeug]

do you have any fanfic recs?

YEAH i do!

And also can people put fanfic recs in the comments of this ask?? So we get even more recs. THANKS!

here's some of mine:

Metamorphosis by @peachcitt - Its been a couple years since they defeated hawkmoth, chat noir is gone. I read this earlier this year and it was SO good, just deliciously dramatic, and it destroyed me. but like in a fun way :)

Tell me something I don't know by @marimbles - it's marichat. do you want to have fun? don't lie to me, I know you do. this one is so funny and sweet

Final Girl by @picayunearts - AU where marinette turns down the ladybug role. this one got to me deeply. listen im unlikely to ever tattoo a quote on my body but if i DID im not saying it WOULDNT be from this fic.

As time goes by, by @redundant-lava - its like if casablanca was even MORE dramatic and romantic and also starred your blorbos.

Under Oath by @eoscenes - Gabriel is unmasked and everyone is dealing with the aftermath. This one takes some of the season 4 drama between ladybug and chat noir and gives it a real play-out, I read this one when it was half-finished and just loved it, I haven't caught up but it looks like its finished so i WILL be going back. join me :)

Happy Anniversary Surprises by @ming85 - short and so so so sweet!!

Double Entendre by speaks, I don't know their tumblr - no intro, just go check it out. man I just love this one, so fun and such a good reveal.

Sting by KryallaOrchid, I don't know their tumblr - Adrien loses the cat miraculous and gets ahold of the bee miraculous so he can keep helping - but ladybug is NOT having it with the new partner. an oldie and a romp!! lovesquare identity shenanigans galore. have some fun.

anything @buggachat has written is good, and i've loved so many of @coffeebananas works, so go browse both of those authors.

A bunch of others but i cant list them all so im leaving off here!! Tell your favs in the comments. whats good out there?

[weebsinstash]

Kinda obsessed with the idea of a reader pregnant with Lucifer's kid and just he's really into it and wants to get married while the readers there being like damn I just wanted the bragging rights of saying I fucked the king of hell and now I have to be married to him !?!

Reader: ugh oh my god that dick was so fucking good, thanks Lucifer

Lucifer, currently painting sigils with his own blood on your tummy: oh my god, no, I know, right, it was amazing, I had an amazing time

Reader: hey uhhhhhhh by the way, what are you

Lucifer, taking a break from speaking ancient Latin incantations: oh hey, no don't worry about it it's totally cool I'm just, doing a thing here

Reader watching the very foundation of Hell shake around them like an earthquake as all the candles in the room burn higher and the unseen spirits of the damned sing comgratulatory praises for their dark lord: you know this kiiiiiiiiinda feels like you miiiiiight be doing something kinda sinister and magic-y right now

Lucifer, watching his symbol appear on your belly: whaaaaaaaaat, no, that's crazy! It's just a little.... surprise! Nothing to worry about! So hey also completely unrelated but I kind of need to splash some of this goat's blood on you--

I feel like sleeping or even FLIRTING with Lucifer is the ultimate case of fuck around and find out because at the very least you have an all powerful clingy depressed obsessive boyfriend in THE DEVIL and at his very worst you have you know THE DEVIL, treating you as his equal half, wanting all to bow before you, worship you, erecting churches with stained glass telling the Epic Tale of how you two fell in love, wanting you draped in fineries, at his side at all times, having only the best

I just feel like... he's one of those yandere that really could take you 0 to 100. You fuck the guy ONCE as like a drunken one night stand, a real "fuck it why not maybe it'll be fun" kinda romp, and then he's making plans behind your back about marriage because, well, he just loves you so much already that he can't see doing anything else! 🥰 like can you imagine going from getting cream pied to like only a week later some church is getting constructing with like biblical art of "oh how the king of hell met another and fell in love" and it's foretelling some epic saga that hasn't even. Happened yet. Like imagine the whiplash of finding out the guy you casually fucked is dedicating buildings to. A story of. How he impregnated and married you and you guys "lived happily ever after" and you still barely know him

I like the contrasting options of Lucifer intentionally impregnating you vs unintentionally because THE VISUAL of like. He's just nutted and you're laying there amd he looks down and suddenly there's this little glowing moving picture on your skin of a snake twining around, circling, becoming an apple with a heart or some-- this is a real specific genre of fetish I'm discussing here ok we don't need to like exactly describe whatever magical mark of pregnancy the devil gives you fjdnfjf. But the apple appears and he's blinking at it and, finally, it clicks, and he's all "BABY! B-BABY! IT'S A BABY HHHOHHHHH MY GOD" and he's like EXCITED but also just like. Do you think he'd get a little biblical drooling about 'your womb being blessed' or some shit. Your absolute fucking LUCK OR LACK THEFEOF if Lucifer turned out to ACCIDENTALLY BE CORRECT and you kind of WERE created to be his wife or end up with him, like GOD is up there, "yeah Luci I threw you a bone, enjoy it 👍" like SHIT the one time you ARE cosmically fated to have a mate and it's AFTER YOU DIE? It's also LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR???

I feel like, genuinely the only way Lucifer would mistreat the Reader is completely unintentionally, like he has a bout of depression and neglects you a little, or he becomes socially withdrawn and you think he doesn't like you but really he's just feeling sad or working on something that's really important to him. I mean. This is BESIDES the possibility of confinement but that's for your protection and it's not like you're in PRISON. This guy is clearly packed with goofy loving positive energy. He'll be taking you to the circus and to musicals with his daughter like you've always been a member of the family, getting you your own special throne to sit beside his own. He's having audience with like some wretched soul, there are flames, he's being TERRIFYING, telling them how they've betrayed him and he's going to tear their soul to pieces and sentencs them to eternal suffering, and then he turns to you, "I'm sorry am I making it too hot in here shnookums 🥰 I don't wanna make you and our lil hellion uncomfy 🥰" like.... truly, you got yourself a man that can do both

[lurkingshan]

Knock Knock Boys: The Unexpected Delight of the Summer Season

Who would have thought that this little under appreciated pulp would come in and steal the Thai BL summer season with so many bigger, shinier, more expensive shows on air? Not me! But here we are, and Knock Knock Boys is going down as one of my unexpected favorites of 2024.

I liked this show from the start, with its premise of four men, each dealing with various Life Situations, coming to live together in a shared home and developing natural friendships and romantic attachments. Each episode begins with a cold open that puts us squarely in the middle of their latest shenanigan and then we jump back to work our way there over the course of the episode. The writing is clever, the directing and editing is zippy and fun, and the whole thing is founded on queer and sex positive themes. I expected it to be a sexy, comedic romp with a sprinkle of mystery as we learned more each week about what these boys were running from.

And it is that, sometimes. But it is also a surprisingly touching story of queer friendship and finding yourself and your tribe and building courage to live an authentic life with the support of your loved ones. It's a story about making the effort to understand and giving each other space to figure ourselves out. It's a story about the importance of communication and giving others a chance to come through for you. It’s a story about how true friendship and patience and empathy can empower someone to change their life.

And it's also a touching romance, times two. Latte and Almond were the favorites all the way through for most of us watching, and seeing them go from friends to something more to proper boyfriends was so lovely. What I loved most about their arc together is how gently it advanced; despite Latte starting the show as our resident sexually experienced pansexual, he was also clear that sex and relationships are meaningful to him, and we saw that in how he pursued Almond with utmost patience. Almond was completely inexperienced and fixated on another guy when they met, and Latte was his genuine friend in helping him sort through his feelings and move on from Jumper before he was a prospective love interest. When Almond became more aware of the attraction between them and they began dating, it all felt natural, as did the progression of their physical intimacy. They are precious and their relationship has such a strong foundation that it's easy to believe they'll stay together long term.

Perhaps most surprising to me is how much I ended up loving the Peak and Thanwa romance, as well. Peak's journey, and the way it ultimately landed, is what sent this show into the stratosphere, and it's where that theme about patience that I mentioned above comes through most strongly. For much of their story, Peak and Thanwa were caught in a frustrating cycle of constantly misunderstanding each other, and it was mostly down to Peak's failure to communicate about his family situation and the way it was restricting him. These two kept missing beats, refusing to talk, and hurting each other because they just couldn't get it together to clear the air, and that can be hard to watch episode to episode. But once we have the full picture, Peak's behavior becomes understandable, both to Thanwa and to us, and we can only join his friends in rooting for him and giving him strength to be brave. And he was, in one of the most satisfying and heartwarming scenes I've seen in bl this year.

I just can't recommend this show highly enough, and I've kept things somewhat vague above because I hope more of you will watch it now that it's over and available for a binge. This show is not perfect, but it's so heartfelt and you will be rewarded in the end. You can find the show on Gaga and the small but mighty crew of us regular viewers screaming about it every week in the tag. You don't want to miss it!

[night-market-if]

Support Small Authors

I got hit with a pretty big E.R bill for my daughter (thanks healthcare) and my computer after only a year, is already on the fritz. All of this before the holidays and, surprise surprise, my husband is going to be laid off for a bit right after Christmas. Most of you have already bought my game and stories but reblogs would be wonderful.

Welcome to the Night Market. Book 1 in a series. The Night Market is an interactive fiction novel in which you awaken to a lantern filled world with no memory of how you got there. Desperate to get home, you must find the gate that leads back to your world, while navigating a foreign land, rife with political intrigue, arbitrary rules and secrets designed to keep you distracted. Nine barons rule the market , a place so vast that not even they can truly know its scope. But, one baron holds the key to your safe return home. Yet, no one has seen or heard from them in over a decade.

Book 1 Steam

Book 1 Itch.io

The companion piece to the Night Market with dozens of stories and works of art, all relating to book 1. Find out what each of the RO's was thinking and doing when MC was not around and dive further into the world of the Night Market itself.

Buy on itch.io

Welcome to a Night Market Kristus story. My holiday story for this year. A fully interactive story featuring MC, the RO's, and some new characters that have been introduced in the WIP of book 2. Enjoy this fun romp through a holiday horror show and have a few soft moments with your chosen romance.

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Join my Patreon. Here you will receive monthly lore posts. Short stories each month. Decision making on polls. The occasional development blog. And early access to any of the chapters that are coming out for book 2. Join a high enough tier and I will even write a short story or a lore post for you.

Join here

[kodasmind]

Baking Distractions

A/N: Thank you guys for all the of love and support❤️❤️

Warnings: none

Paring: Rhea Ripley x Reader

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the room as you decided it was the perfect day to bake something special. With a smile, you gathered the ingredients for your favorite recipe, eager to surprise Rhea with a homemade treat.

As you began to mix the ingredients, the kitchen quickly filled with the sweet aroma of vanilla and cinnamon. But amidst the whirlwind of activity, you couldn't help but notice the playful chaos unfolding around you.

Luna, Barry, and Bella, Rhea's beloved dogs, had decided to join in the fun, their wagging tails and eager eyes adding to the commotion. Luna chased after the rolling pin, Barry attempted to steal a taste of the flour, and Bella jumped up to inspect the mixing bowl.

"Hey, guys, come on," you chuckled, trying to maintain control of the situation. "I need to focus if we're going to get these treats baked."

But the mischievous trio seemed determined to wreak havoc, darting around the kitchen with boundless energy. They barked and romped, knocking over bowls and sending flour flying in every direction.

Rhea, who had been busy with a phone call, looked up with amusement as she noticed the chaos unfolding. "Looks like you've got your hands full," she said, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

You laughed, trying to corral the dogs as you continued with your baking attempt. But despite your best efforts, the distractions proved too much to handle, and soon, flour was coating every surface, and dough was smeared across the floor.

With a sigh of resignation, you paused to survey the scene before you. It was clear that your baking plans had quickly unraveled into a full-blown disaster. But as you glanced at Rhea, who was now leaning against the counter with a knowing smile, you couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

"Well, I guess we won't be winning any baking competitions today," you joked, shaking your head in disbelief.

Rhea chuckled, stepping forward to help you clean up the mess. "Hey, it's the thought that counts, right? Besides, I think the dogs had fun, at least."

You couldn't argue with that, and as you worked together to tidy up the kitchen, the laughter and camaraderie between you and Rhea made the whole ordeal feel like a cherished memory in the making.

In the end, while the baking may not have gone as planned, the laughter and love shared with Rhea and the dogs made it all worthwhile. And as you leaned in for a flour-covered kiss, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the simple joys of togetherness and the unpredictability of life with Rhea by your side.

[sissylittlefeather]

Role Play Part 2: Clean or Dirty?

A/N: Well, I did it. I turned Good Cop, Bad Cop into a series 😂. So here's part 2! This one takes place in January of 1971 between Elvis and a fem!reader. This is intended to be pure fun, so I hope you enjoy it!

Here is the link to part 1.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also infidelity, he's definitely married

Word count: ~2.2k

After your romp with Elvis, you're pretty sure you'll never see him again, even though he seemed insistent that he'd find you. Still, you're surprised when a mysterious envelope shows up in your mailbox. When you get it inside and tear it open, you're absolutely shocked to find a plane ticket to Vegas and a ticket to Elvis's show at the International later in January. You dig through the envelope for some kind of letter, but all you find is a note that reads, "You pick the role play. -EP"

At first, you consider not going. He's married. But then you think about the way you felt when he fucked you, and even when he just looked at you. One more time wouldn't hurt anything, would it?

You look at the calendar and think about the arrangements that would need to be made to make it to the show. If you start now, you just might pull it off.

******

A few weeks later, you find yourself checking into your room at the still-new International hotel. Elvis has reserved a suite for you, so the bellhop brings your bag to the elevator and you make your way up. When you get to the room your jaw drops. The suite is enormous and decorated elaborately. You have a couple of hours before the show, so you get started on your hair and makeup. Once everything is perfect, you slip into the sequined blue and silver dress you've packed and head to the area where Elvis's concert will be. The usher takes you to a private table and you order a drink. You have a perfect view of the stage, which means he'll probably be able to see you too. You don't have much more time to think about it, though, because the music begins and the show starts.

You watch in amazement as he sings and dances and works the crowd in a way you've never seen before. About halfway through the third song, he looks to your booth and makes eye contact with you. Your heart leaps and he winks, smiling a warm, genuine smile. The show continues through the night and you're spellbound by him. He's incredible. And even if he doesn't come to you tonight, the trip will be worth it just to have seen him on stage. He winks at you a few more times throughout the evening, licking his lips flirtatiously and shaking his hips in your direction. Your heart skips every time and you feel yourself getting more and more turned on by the minute.

By the end of the night, you're really hoping that he will find his way to your suite at some point or you might have to take care of yourself. The wetness that's gathered between your legs is almost embarrassing.

******

When you get back to your suite, you make yourself a drink from the mini bar and sit on the couch. You're not sure how long you'll have to wait before he shows up, if he even does.

You look at the clock on the wall. It's almost 3am and you've already changed into the outfit you brought for your role play. You start to feel a little silly and just as you decide it's been long enough, there's a soft knock on the door.

Grabbing your prop, you go to the door and take a deep breath before opening it.

"Oh, Mr. Presley! You're home early!" You back up and let him walk into the room. His eyes travel slowly down your body, taking in your French maid costume, complete with white apron, lacy hat, and feather duster. "I haven't finished cleaning!"

You turn and bend over to dust the bottom of a table that's pushed up against the wall. His mouth drops open at the view of your ass peeking out from under your skirt. It's clear you aren't wearing any panties.

"I-I-it's fine. I can just hang out while you finish." You stand back up and he slides himself up behind you with his arms around your waist and looks at you in the mirror. "Y/n, honey, this is incredible."

He kisses the side of your neck just below your ear and you shiver.

"Don't break character."

"Yes ma'am." He unwraps himself from around you and makes his way to the couch to sit down. He's wearing a black suit with a yellow patterned shirt underneath, unbuttoned to the middle of his chest. Just the sight of him has you wet again, but you don't want to move too fast and ruin the illusion, so you continue to dust random things around the room, bending over periodically. He grunts and you see him adjust himself so that his cock is up under his belt.

Eventually, you make your way over to him and bend over directly in front of him. He sits forward and puts his hands on your ass. You jump up in false alarm.

"Sir! What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing, I just like the view." You giggle and go back to dusting, turning and acting like you're dusting something behind him. This puts your breasts directly in his face. He groans again and then places his hands on your hips.

"Sir?"

"You can call me Elvis." He whispers as he pulls you down to straddle his lap. You feel his hardness through his pants and your pussy clenches around nothing. "Do you mind if I touch you, honey?"

You smile demurely and bat your eyelashes.

"I work for you. I'm not sure it's appropriate." As you speak he leans forward and kisses your cleavage and then drags his tongue up to your neck where he kisses you again. "But if you're alright with it..." you answer breathily, not able to make anymore words.

He pulls your hips forward to roll into him as he nibbles on your earlobe.

"I'm alright with it. I wanna fuck you, y/n." You moan out loud with his words.

"I wanna let you." Without warning, he stands up and you wrap your legs around him to keep from falling. He holds onto your ass with both hands and carries you over to the bed.

He lays you down on it and then stands back up, removing his belt and jacket, letting them both fall to the floor. Then, he unbuttons his shirt and pants and lets them fall to the floor as well until he's standing there naked, cock bouncing. He slides both hands up your thighs and pushes your skirt up around your waist so that your whole bottom half is exposed to him. Getting down on his knees, he pulls you to the edge of the bed and moves your thighs to his shoulders. He leans forward and licks up your slit to the bundle of nerves at the top. You gasp with the sensation of his tongue on your clit. He moves his tongue over and around you intentionally until you feel your orgasm rushing toward you. He stops for a second and pushes his tongue into you a few times before going back up to your sensitive bud.

"I know you're about to cum, honey. Just let go."

"Yes sir." He drags his tongue across you one last time and your climax explodes between your legs, shooting out to your fingertips and back again. Your release splashes out of you onto the bed and he laps at you eagerly.

"Good girl." He kisses your inner thigh and then nips at you gently. Standing up from his place on the floor, he strokes his cock several times, looking at you splayed out on the bed for him. He can't remember the last time he was this turned on- except for the last time he was with you. Something about you drives him absolutely crazy.

You sit up on your elbows and watch him as he looks at you and moves his hand up and down on himself.

"What?" You ask with a post-orgasm grin.

"Nothing. Don't break character." He says playfully mocking you from earlier.

The bed is tall enough that he doesn't have to bend down much to line himself up with you laying on the bed while he's standing next to it. He pulls your legs up so that your ankles are on his shoulders and pushes into you slowly. You feel yourself stretch around him and the pleasure is almost overwhelming. He begins to move faster, pumping in and out of you vigorously. While he pounds into you, he grabs one of your feet and kisses your ankle. You remembered how much he loved your toenails last time, so you made sure to have fresh polish again.

"Mmm. These sooties..." He looks down at you almost nervously. The familiar term just slipped out, which was unusual since he didn't typically use it with his short-term girls.

"I made sure they were pretty for you." When it doesn't bother you, he relaxes and goes back to fucking into you deeply. His length hits your sensitive spot with each thrust and you feel yourself crashing into another orgasm. He can tell you're getting close, so he takes one of your ankles in his hand and, lowering your leg, exposes your clit to him. Then, he licks his opposite thumb and uses it to rub circles on you as he slides in and out of you.

"Oh, God, Elvis!" You cry out as your climax slams into you from every direction and you cum hard on his dick. His own orgasm is coming quickly and he picks up his pace as it approaches.

"That's it, baby. Take this cock like a good girl." He says as he pounds into you rhythmically. In two more thrusts he shudders and fills you with warmth.

"Fuck, yes, y/n!" He pulls out of you and stumbles to lay next to you on the bed. You look at him as he lays there and think to yourself that you've never seen a more beautiful man.

"I fully intended to take that outfit off of you, but I didn't make it." He chuckles and turns to look at you.

"Eh, it added to the effect. I'm gonna take it off now, though. It's not exactly comfortable." He watches as you sit up and pull the dress over your head, leaving you as naked as he is. "I'll be right back."

You go to the bathroom and he gets up to, you assume, put his clothes back on. In the bathroom, you look in the mirror and assess how fucked out you look. You catch yourself wishing he could stay, but you know he probably can't and wouldn't even if he could.

"Don't try to make this more than it is." You whisper to yourself in the mirror and then walk out of the bathroom. When you get back to the room, though, you're shocked to find him situated in the bed under the covers, still naked.

"You don't have to leave?"

"Eventually. Come lay with me for a while, though." He pats the bed next to himself and you crawl in and snuggle up beside him. He wraps his arm around you and kisses your forehead, again in a gesture that's far too intimate.

"So do you actually have a maid?" You ask kind of off-hand, just to make conversation.

"I do now. I haven't always, though..." He launches into a monologue about what life was like for him growing up so poor. You respond appropriately, but mostly you just listen. He's not sure why he's telling you all of this, but for some reason it just feels good to talk to you. When he reaches the end of his speech, he picks up your hand and kisses your palm, talking into it.

"What about you?"

"Oh..." Without thinking too hard, you start telling him about your upbringing. You're surprised at how easy he is to talk to and how good of a listener he is. You didn't expect to talk to him this much, but before you know it, the sun is peeking in through your hotel room window and you're still naked, cuddled up and talking. He plays with your fingers the whole time and the comfort level between you grows exponentially.

Finally, he sighs deeply and looks to the window.

"I need to go, honey." He squeezes you and then slinks out of the bed to get dressed. You sit on the side of the bed and watch him, trying not to wish he wouldn't leave. Once he's dressed, he stands in front of you between your knees and runs his fingers through your hair. He doesn't want to leave, but he can't tell you that.

"Can I see you again?"

"You pick the scenario next time." He smiles warmly and wraps himself around you.

"I'll be in touch." He kisses your hair one last time and then makes his way to the door. Once he's walked through it, you lay back against the pillows and sigh. You cannot be having feelings for Elvis Presley.

But what you don't know is he's outside your hotel room door leaning his head against the wall, thinking the exact same thing about you.

******

Part 3 soon? Maybe?

Do we want it?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @tacozebra051 @rjmartin11

[cheeseplants]

2024 fic roundup

Can I just create an ask game? I wanted to create a snapshot for 2024 for me, and would love to hear from others, so I’m going to interview myself like a loon.

Please join in if you want 🙂 I know we’re in Dec, so feel free to answer at the end of the month if you wish!

What fandoms do you write in?

Good Omens! Aziraphale/Crowley!

And I wrote one for the tiny fandom of The House in the Cerulean Sea. Linus/Arthur 4ever.

How many words have you published in 2024?

This is a tricky one. My official total is 270,737 words but three of those were collabs. So if I count the fics that only I wrote it’s 117,911. Which is still a bit mind-blowing to me, as I only started doing this Nov 2023.

What is your greatest achievement this year?

It has to probably be my first ever longfic over 50k. I set myself a goal to write something long and follow the beats of a classic romcom. And I did it! It was really me muddling through it trying to work out what the Hell I was doing. But it exists and some people even said they liked it, so I count that as a win. 

It’s called The Apple Doesn't Fall Far and it’s about Crowley inheriting a cottage from his aunt and butting heads with Aziraphale the councillor who is in charge of knocking it down. And spoiler alert. They fall in love

What are your favourite top three fics you wrote this year?

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far - as above! 

Rating: E 

Wordcount: 58,135

It’s sugary sweet with enough light angst to create some nice drama. But it’s mainly cosy, low stakes, comfortable, contemporary British romance vibes. 

The Ecstasy of Eden

Rating: E

Wordcount: 28,303

5 times they used sex pollen, and the one time they didn't Through the Ages fic. Written for the High Sex Pollen Event. It is a fun romp through the ages with some surprising angst chapters that I absolutely love. They are silly piney fools. ALSO I got art made for it!

If we were

Rating: E

Wordcount: 3,362

In 1941 Aziraphale and Crowley imagine their life as humans.

This fic fell out of me almost fully formed. I was half asleep and began daydreaming fic (as you do) and by the time I got to my laptop, my fingers wrote it in basically a couple of hours. It is everything I love. Bittersweet, yearning, them being completely in love but unable to do anything about it, slow dancing, almost kisses and some spice!

What was your biggest pit of despair moment?

The Ecstacy of Eden was a slog at times. I had written chap one and three, but it took so long for me to get chap two into shape. I couldn’t work out what the Hell I was doing. Got beta feedback where they could tell I was clearly feeling really stuck after I wrote it because it was all a bit lacklustre. 

Almost totally gave up. I had a few: I’m never writing again, what’s the point? moments.

Somehow I pushed through and made it work. 

In a lot of ways, that was probably the moment I saw my writing improve the most. BUT IT WAS A HORRIBLE SLOG. Ugh. I wanted to say this because I know we all have them and it’s good to talk about it!

What have you learned?

Honestly, how to use commas better! I can already tell my grammar has improved a lot from when I first started. I don’t rely on epithets as much. I know what semi-colons are for (thanks @fishey-me!)

I am getting better at letting fics breathe. I feel like my background in marketing and comms makes me want to write very precisely and I am slowly learning to cast that off and take time setting scenes. I also found a few tools to help me outline better. 

Romancing the Beat by Gwen Hayes

Take Off Your Pants!: Outline Your Books for Faster, Better Writing by Libbie Hawker

They’ve been invaluable in teaching me what the Hell I’m doing. My main takeaways - work out your character's flaws and work out the theme of the story. 

I also learned what sex pollen is and then wrote a 30k fic about it.

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground?

Ugh, I have one in my drive called Crowley and Aziraphale go on holiday. I imagined it as a canon-compliant fic post S2 where they go on a sort of make-or-break holiday. I just liked the idea of Crowley being all grouchy in the sun and Aziraphale awkwardly trying to flirt over Sangria. ALSO only one bed! But it sort of sits in my drafts and I’ve not done much with it. 

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out?

YES. Many fics!

But I think I’ll have to give my biggest shout-out to @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon for Sins of Knowledge! I’ve help beta more than 100k of that (wow) and it’s a wild ride. Go check it out. 

What three fics have you read this year that you love?

Listen I have tons and tons I’d love to recommend, but I am going to whittle it down!

First up it has to be @happynachohologram who surprised me on my birthday with not only their first ever fic, but basically one of the best South Downs retirement fics ever. I still think about it. It’s under 2k and it’s absolutely beautiful. 

The Best Part by @happynachohologram

Rating: E

Wordcount: 1,702

A throwaway comment from Aziraphale sets Crowley wondering about the best parts of retirement.

-

UGH, next up @gaiaseyes451 This fic changed me. I don’t know if I’ve ever been more hooked while being emotionally devastated as this fic. Mind the tags but it’s wonderful.

A Little Life by @gaiaseyes451

Rating: E

Wordcount: 71,624

When Professor of Botany Anthony Crowley met bookshop owner Ezra Fell one November afternoon both knew their lives had irrevocably changed. From that moment forward, Anthony and Ezra’s existence was intertwined. Their story was written in the moments and memories they created as they moved through life’s chapters of coming together, building a family and facing the challenges of being human. This is a story of unconditional love and the joy and humour, obstacles and grief that inevitably come with choosing the same person, day after day, over and over and over again.

-

Gorgeous pine-scented Crowley and one of the best premises I’ve read in a while. I know most people must have read this but if you haven’t you’re in for such a treat!

Stuck on Me by @zin-lynn-c

Rating: E

Wordcount: 56,538

After a drunken handfasting ceremony goes awry, Crowley and Aziraphale find themselves magically bound to be touching at all times. In order to set the situation to rights, they must embark on a multi-day journey to seek help from the last true witch in England.

What ideas are percolating for next year?

I think my next longfic is probably going to be a road trip with college-aged Az and Crowley. The characters keep yelling at me in my head, so I think they want to be written. So far Crowley is an activist punk who needs a lift back to London after graduation and Aziraphale is a posh boy who represents everything Crowley stands against.

Animosity to lovers my beloved!

It’s probably set in the 90s so no one has a mobile phone and Crowley can be obnoxious with a box of cassettes playing Az a bunch of bebop he pretends to hate. I have a scene of Crowley taking Aziraphale to his first gay bar in my head that I can’t get rid of, so I probably need to write it. 

Who do you want to thank?

OMG all of @goodomensafterdark for giving us a platform and being a lovely bunch of pocket pals! I want to give A BIG shoutout to @happynachohologram for letting me yell all my insecurities at you and for always screeching when I send them pictures of Crowley and Aziraphale holding hands in the South Downs. 

And to @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon for agreeing to beta my 50k longfic! Pretty sure it would never have been published if it wasn’t for you two. 

And @doonarose for organising the madness of the original CYOA!

Anyone in my tags feel free to join in or in fact anyone at all. I'll tag a few more below. Tag, answer any Qs that suit and play along!

@adverbian @isiaiowin @onedappercat @angie-words @brenna

[traeumenvonbuechern]

Historical Romances by Black Authors

Aphrodite wishes to escape the marriage mart but will a second chance with the elusive Duke of Everely change her mind? Aphrodite Du Bell is a diamond of the first water and a favourite of the queen. But her renowned loveliness didn't stop the love of her life, Evander Eagleman, from jilting her and marrying another woman four years ago. Aphrodite has been in self-imposed exile ever since. However, when her formidable mother summons her back to London Aphrodite has no choice but to acquiesce. Upon her return, Aphrodite learns that the newly widowed Evander is in town and, despite her best efforts, the grand society events of the season repeatedly push them together. With each encounter, Aphrodite's traitorous feelings make it perfectly clear that the Duke still holds court over her heart. Why did Evander cast Aphrodite aside all those years ago, and now that they have a second chance, can the couple make strides to mend past hurts?

Ailsa Connery has waited three long years to finally escape her enslavement at Stirling Castle and reunite with her clan. But her carefully laid plans are completely destroyed by the arrival of the infamous Highland warrior known as Dubh Mahoun, the Black Devil…who has plans of his own. Kallum MacNeill's fearsome reputation has long allowed him to keep hidden his secret double life of freeing enslaved captives across the land. It's only when he kidnaps a servant lass—quite by accident—that he finds himself facing a wee predicament. He must accompany the lass home or risk her exposing his true identity. It'd be easy enough…if the feisty hellion didn't fight him at every turn. As they make their way to the Highlands, the perils the two must face are surpassed only by their constant sparring. Soon, their heated sniping sparks heat of a totally different kind. The kind that ignites a hunger that could consume them both. Yet the difficult journey is no match for the dangerous secrets they're about to uncover.

The first novel in USA Today Bestselling Author Beverly Jenkins’s compelling new series follows a Northern woman south in the chaotic aftermath of the Civil War . . . Valinda Lacy’s mission in the steamy heart of New Orleans is to help the newly emancipated community survive and flourish. But soon she discovers that here, freedom can also mean danger. When thugs destroy the school she has set up and then target her, Valinda runs for her life—and straight into the arms of Captain Drake LeVeq. As an architect from an old New Orleans family, Drake has a deeply personal interest in rebuilding the city. Raised by strong women, he recognizes Valinda’s determination. And he can’t stop admiring—or wanting—her. But when Valinda’s father demands she return home to marry a man she doesn’t love, her daring rebellion draws Drake into an irresistible intrigue.

A fun and feminist Regency romp from a master of the genre hailed as "a delight" by Bridgerton author Julia Quinn. Nothing happens in London without Graham Wynchester knowing. His massive collection of intelligence is invaluable to his family’s mission of aiding those most in need. So when he deciphers a series of coded messages in the scandal sheets, Graham’s convinced he must come to a royal’s rescue. But his quarry turns out not to be a princess at all… The captivating Kunigunde de Heusch is anything but a damsel in distress, and the last thing she wants is Graham’s help. All her life, Kuni trained alongside the fiercest Royal Guardsmen in her family, secretly planning to become her country’s first Royal Guardswoman. This mission in London is a chance to prove herself worthy without help from a man, not even one as devilishly handsome as Graham. To her surprise, Graham believes in her dream as much as she does, which makes it harder to resist kissing him…and falling in love. But how can she risk her heart if her future lies an ocean away? 

Jane Austen meets The Princess and the Frog For as long as Prairie can remember, living in paradise has been boring. Her days are filled with helping at her family's resort, sewing, daydreaming, and observing fashionable guests from the sidelines. But when a fairytale-Esque opportunity arises, she does something out of character and agrees to marry a man she's never met. Suddenly, she's navigating a new life that is a world and an ocean away from everything she's ever known. Her new husband, Wright, is decidedly Mr. Wrong. If there's a schedule, he'll ignore it. If there is a rule, he'll break it. If there's a risk, he'll take it. Has the girl who has always had a plan finally met her match? If you're a fan of TV shows like 'Vanity Fair', 'Bridgerton' and 'The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina' or enjoy reading comedies of manners, you'll love 'That, My Dear, Is Love.' This is a full-length, standalone novel featuring a diverse ensemble cast, whimsical magic, and hilarious misadventures. This is a clean romance with a HEA. Featuring some of your favorite tropes: Marriage of Convenience Opposites Attract Reformed Rake

The Davenports delivers a totally escapist, swoon-worthy romance while offering a glimpse into a period of African American history often overlooked. The Davenports are one of the few Black families of immense wealth and status in a changing United States, their fortune made through the entrepreneurship of William Davenport, a formerly enslaved man who founded the Davenport Carriage Company years ago. Now it's 1910, and the Davenports live surrounded by servants, crystal chandeliers, and endless parties, finding their way and finding love—even where they’re not supposed to. There is Olivia, the beautiful elder Davenport daughter, ready to do her duty by getting married . . . until she meets the charismatic civil rights leader Washington DeWight and sparks fly. The younger daughter, Helen, is more interested in fixing cars than falling in love—unless it’s with her sister’s suitor. Amy-Rose, the childhood friend turned maid to the Davenport sisters, dreams of opening her own business—and marrying the one man she could never be with, Olivia and Helen’s brother, John. But Olivia’s best friend, Ruby, also has her sights set on John Davenport, though she can’t seem to keep his interest . . . until family pressure has her scheming to win his heart, just as someone else wins hers. Inspired by the real-life story of the Patterson family, The Davenports is the tale of four determined and passionate young Black women discovering the courage to steer their own path in life—and love.

[artbyblastweave]

I respect you always trying to give Millar a fair shake as an author. I can't stand the guy or his formula, but there's something that has always bugged me:

Superman Adventures, the tie-in comic he wrote for Superman: The Animated Series, ruled. It was legitimately phenomenal, self-contained action/adventure stories. Just really solid Superman work.

How did he off-handedly make something I like so much more? Is he just secretly so good at kids adventure stories, that he just finds it boring and does crap like The Unfunnies instead? Is it related to his time working with Morrison (and allegedly, borrowing some ideas)?

That first thing- him being secretly good at kids adventure stories- I actually think is very close to what's going on. I don't know the specifics of Millar and Morrison's falling out, but it isn't remotely surprising to me that the two of them aligned enough to work together in the first place, because they're both sincerely enamored with the straightforward cornball antics and aesthetics of the silver age- at the end of the day they both think the superhero genre, and genre stuff more broadly, is really really cool.

The bulk of Millar's oeuvre- and in particular his recent oeuvre- consists of short, straightforward, sincere two-fisted romps, within the superhero space and outside of it- Starlight, Huck, Superior, Chrononauts, Beyond, Space Bandits, more still that I haven't read. All jazzed up with violence and cussing, all transparently being written for adaptation by Netflix, but we can briefly be kind. Jupiter's Circle worked for me as well as it did because it married an obvious sincere appreciation for the aesthetics and plots of the Silver Age with an awareness of the seediness and moral rot of 1960s culture that actual silver-age comics didn't or couldn't acknowledge- FBI ratfucking, cowardly superheroic inaction in the face of segregation, capes having affairs with groupies or being forced into comphet marriages for appearances sake. Despite being one of the high-water marks for edginess in his overall career, both Old Man Logan and Wanted are both deeply thematically hung up on the quiet, miserable desperation of a world where evil has won so decisively. In Wanted in particular the villain protagonists won't shut up about how much more meaningful life was before they killed all the joy in the world, and although I haven't read it I'll eat my hat if that same idea isn't in the subtext of The Unfunnies. On the other side of things, I've written previously about how Kick-Ass really didn't work for me because Millar spent the first half of the book convincingly rendering the "superhero" as a unsalvagably pathetic role, but at the last minute he pivoted to trying to write the straightforward goodies-and-baddies story that does genuinely seem to be his default, and the result was a dissonant mess.

So, yeah, if Mark Millar writes a solid Superman it's probably down to him genuinely liking unreconstructed Superman and having a fun time with it, and also not being allowed by editorial to plaster the page in swears and grotesque caricatures. Or it might predate him really leaning into that as part of his brand, I don't actually have a great grasp on what his output from before The Authority looks like. Probably a number of things going on with this.