#which is funny because even if they were legally

[kxsagi]

hihi u need to hear me out on this ok

i think its pretty obvious im a BIIIIG fan of grumy x sunshine so imagine v. expressive reader who also happens to be a professional swooner (constantly compliments ppl and swoons over them, like they'll see someone do smth cool and immediately start swooning temporarily & it's so obvious because they don't hide their feelings) with post-wc kunigami who is mostly the victim to being the only one who can tolerate them enough to be around them most of the time

i think it'd be rlly cool to see how two people (reader & kunigami) with opposite personalities can fall in love with the other despite their differences.

“𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝”

a/n: oooh more kunigami fics i see (i'll gladly write for him bc i know a certain someone loves kunigami)

there are many mysteries in life. how the pyramids were built. why post wild card! kunigami came back from the wild card arc looking like a final boss. and most importantly, how someone like you, swoony! reader, ended up orbiting around him like a caffeinated planet circling a dead star. 

“oh my gosh,” you whisper-squeal, clutching the goal post like it’s the only thing keeping you from collapsing. “did you see that header?! ren, i swear, you make physics look like a suggestion. your neck muscles deserve their own fan club.” 

kunigami, who’s jogging off the field after practice, doesn’t look at you. or anyone. he just grabs a towel from the bench, wipes his face like it personally offended him, and grunts. it might’ve been a “thanks.” or a “please perish.” hard to tell. 

to everyone else, that grunt would be a conversation ender. to you? that grunt is a legally binding contract to keep talking. 

“seriously though,” you say, speed-walking next to him with zero shame. “how do you not walk around breaking door frames with those shoulders? you could do anything. break walls. carry me. emotionally ruin me.” 

he keeps walking. you keep talking. this is your dynamic. 

at some point, everyone else has learned to leave you two alone. they tried, truly, to keep up with you. but you are too much – too bubbly, too expressive, too prone to clutching your chest dramatically when someone opens a water bottle in a hot way. you are a human romcom montage, and kunigami is the only one with the emotional stability to endure you for more than ten minutes. 

“why do you follow him around?” reo had asked once, watching you beam at kunigami while he lifted dumbbells like they were paper towels. 

“because he’s my muse,” you replied, hand over your heart. “have you seen him? he’s a greek statue come to life. if i don’t swoon, who will?” 

reo blinked. “you’re insane.” 

“and in love!” you shot back, twirling dramatically before crashing into a weight rack. 

kunigami had dragged you away by the collar like a misbehaving puppy. no words. just that stern, long-suffering look like he was questioning every life choice that led to this moment. 

but the thing is, kunigami doesn’t hate you. 

which is saying a lot, because kunigami, these days, looks like he hates most things. joy. peace. emotions. breakfast cereals with mascots. he doesn’t even talk much anymore – just grunts, glares, and occasionally sighs like the weight of the world rests on his monster-sized traps. 

but for some reason, when it comes to you, he tolerates. no, endures. worse: lets you stay. 

it’s almost funny how opposite you are. 

he wakes up at 5 AM for protein and silence. you wake up at 9 AM singing about the birds outside your window like a disney princess with a caffeine addiction. he bench presses his trauma. you process yours by giving his biceps names. 

“i think i’ll call this one hercules,” you say one afternoon, poking his right arm while he’s tying his shoelaces. “and this one hector. very greek tragedy. very my type.” 

kunigami doesn’t even flinch. he just yanks the knot tight and mutters, “go bother someone else.” 

“no one else will let me,” you sigh dreamily. “they all tell me to shut up. you’re the only one who tells me to bother someone else, which is basically a soft ‘stay’ if you think about it.” 

he stares at you. expression unreadable. you stare back with heart eyes so aggressive it’s practically harassment. 

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” you whisper. 

he walks away. you follow him like a devoted cult member. 

and guess what? the breaking point doesn’t come with fanfare. no dramatic kiss. no enemies-to-lovers arc climax. no moment of him pushing you against a locker and growling “you talk too much” before your lips crash together like a bad wattpad fic. 

no. the moment it changes is stupid. absurdly mundane. 

you’re both at a vending machine after evening practice. kunigami’s trying to get a protein bar. you’re trying to decide between grape juice or being annoying. grape juice loses. 

“you know,” you say casually, leaning against the machine, “if this was an anime or romcom or whatever, this is where i’d pretend to trip into you and then fall in love forever.” 

kunigami doesn’t look at you. “don’t.” 

“i wasn’t going to!” you protest, flailing dramatically. “i respect boundaries. mostly. but if you did fall in love with me forever, hypothetically, i’d be really good at being your trophy wife. i have practice. i once married a body pillow in vegas.” 

he glances at you. finally. slow. deadpan. “you’re exhausting.” 

you clutch your chest. “say it again.” 

and that, somehow, makes him laugh. not a full laugh. not even a real laugh. just a snort, a half-smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, like his face is trying not to betray him. 

and in that moment, you realize something genuinely terrifying: you’re not just joking anymore. 

because under all the swooning and sparkling eyes and anime-tier speeches about his delts, you actually like him. not just the looks. not just the grumpy energy. but the weird kindness he shows in quiet ways. the way he watches over people without saying a word. how he puts up with your chaos without ever once calling you annoying. how he sees you, not just as comic relief, but as you. 

and worse? you think he might like you, too. 

“you never shut up,” he tells you one night, sitting beside you on the rooftop after practice. 

you’re sipping from a juice box and kicking your feet like a child. he’s watching the skyline like it personally offended him. 

“i do shut up,” you reply. “just not around you. you make me nervous. it’s easier to talk than feel.” 

he glances at you, quiet for a long beat. “you’re not nervous,” he says. “you’re fearless. annoying. bright.” 

“aww,” you sigh. “you’re flirting.” 

he doesn’t respond. just keeps watching the stars. but when you lean against him, all sunshine and sugar and a thousand different versions of too much, he doesn’t move away. 

you smile to yourself. it’s not perfect. it’s not poetic. but it’s real. 

and if kunigami’s okay being your gravitational anchor, then you’re more than happy to orbit forever. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[technically-human]

He did eventually sign it

[bumblingbabooshka]

Thinking about marriage/women's rights on Vulcan Some may think that T'Pring not being allowed to divorce Spock was because he was going through the pon farr but if she were allowed to divorce him at all she probably would have done that a long time ago, confirmed by T'Pol when she's speaking with Koss, who isn't suffering from the pon farr. She says that he can choose another mate (without invoking a fight it seems: note the difference between a 'mate' and a 'challenger') and after he makes it clear that nothing she says will change his mind about marrying her, she finally threatens to declare a kal-if-fee. It's clear that Vulcan women cannot divorce/refuse to marry a man they've been betrothed to under any circumstances if A) He himself doesn't consent to ending their marriage or B) She doesn't have someone else waiting in the wings to be given to in his stead. Though, if the challenger she selects fails to win the fight, she'll have to marry her betrothed anyway unless (again) he decides he doesn't want her after the challenge. That seems like an incredibly unfair system, heavily biased towards men. SNW is an alternate universe in many obvious respects but most egregiously in that T'Pring has a lot of non-canonical agency over her relationship with Spock. It's interesting to me that Vulcan society has women in many positions of power and treats women as equal to men from what I've seen despite these laws. We don't really see Vulcans exhibiting a misogynistic attitude towards women in general but in TOS (perhaps because of its general writing style but it's still interesting to note) both Sarek and Spock take on patriarchal attitudes specifically regarding wives. Amanda says that 'of course' Sarek commands her because "he is a Vulcan and I am his wife." It's worthwhile in my eyes to note that she specifies 'wife' instead of attributing this attitude to women as a whole. Again, with TOS' writing style it wouldn't be out of place for her to say "he is a man and I am a woman." Spock, while in a pon farr induced irritation, states that it's "undignified for a woman to play servant to a man that isn't hers" - again implying that there's something specific about being a Wife in Vulcan society which is different from being a woman in general and demands subservience to a husband. This could perhaps stem from the extreme sense of ownership that Vulcan law has permitted men to have over women. A woman legally cannot point blank refuse marriage. There is no option which guarantees she won't have to marry her betrothed other than death. When T'Pau speaks of T'Pring she refers to her as being 'property' and Stonn, before being interrupted, states he's made 'the ancient claim' - we don't know what this is because he gets cut off but it's obvious they're both using the language of Vulcan law. Men are permitted true freedom to choose. If a woman wants to choose someone else to be with there is no option available to her other than the kal-if-fee which might result in the death of the one she wants to be with. And, if her lover fails, her husband can still just decide he wants to marry her and she'll be forced to. T'Pring gives two scenarios: One where Spock 'frees' her and one where he doesn't - it's still ultimately his decision which is clear when he ends the conversation with "Stonn, she is yours." This again isn't just because of the pon farr as T'Pol also goes through this. Koss can choose another mate and when the option is talked about there's no implication that this would result in any sort of fight (both by the casualness of its mention and by the fact that there's no formal word for it unlike the kal-if-fee.) Also, the fact that Koss does eventually grant T'Pol a divorce and it's all fine means that T'Pol isn't lawfully required to have another man waiting if her HUSBAND doesn't want her. It's ONLY required if SHE doesn't want her husband. Tradition must take precedence over individual desire UNLESS!!! You're a man. Then it's fine. Like, your parents might not be happy but legally you're golden.

[soyboywenzie]

okay, not to argue but

1) this point is mute because aegon was never born of incest anyways

2) he’s still part of the MOST IMPORTANT house in the country, way more than most due to their dragon blood

3) he wouldn’t hold the ancestral seat due to him not being important is he wasn’t viserys son

3) a trade he’d have no part in due to him not being important if viserys wasn’t his dad

4) same thing as the last point. the matters very little to him in all canons

5) the citadel…he did not care about

In short, him being part hightower is the bad thing, it’s his family using him to extend their own power since being apart of house Hightower didn’t get them anything which also got Aegon nothing…because like in house Targaryen succession, they were all pretty low on the ruling list. and Aegon’s relationship with sunfyre seems to be a fanon thing because in canon, he jumped off his dragon to then have it die alone and didn’t wait to find the “bigger and better sunfyre.”

yall over extend house Hightower’s importance to much for a house that is currently being ran by a wizard in a tower…which is hella more interesting than alicent and her family.

I have never understood why people (tb )call Aegon "Aegon Hightower" and act like it's some great gotcha moment. All they're saying is

a) he wasn't born of incest and

b) he's from one of the most powerful families in the country, who

c) hold an ancestral seat located in the oldest city in the country,

d) control trade due to their location beside the sea,

e) have the Starry Sept which is where the High Septon lives as well as

f) the Citadel, which is the foremost center of learning in Westeros.

In summary, I don't get why him being a Hightower is a bad thing. And in any case, he does still have Sunfyre (my beloved dragon) and they have the best dragon-rider bond ever seen. This has been a huge rant, thanks for reading!

[piastappies]

would you maybe write an smau (oscar x norris or leclerc!reader) where the reader is just super clumsy and everyone makes fun of that?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SUCH A KLUTZ ! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

summary. in which reader can’t walk straight to save her life and formula fans (as well as some of the drivers) find it extremely amusing, while her boyfriend is the greenest flag of all time.

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc and 89 623 others.

yourusername rumour has it that the best couple on grid is enjoying the summer break and the rumors are TRUE! though it is also said that the girl in third slide fell off the scooter and got a concussion so her boyfriend took her phone away for three days — this may or may not be true!

view all comments!

user1 oscar is so whipped the guy is the first like whenever she posts something 😭😭

user2 i know ehic isnt a thing in monaco unfortunately but my other european girlies please remember to get yourself an ehic card if you travel across europe it can save you a lot of nerves if you injury yourself on vacay 😭😭😭

priniya european girlies always remember to have a valid european health insurance card! <3

oscarpiastri she might say its not true but it is 👎👎 the girl almost gave me a heart attack

landonorris yourusername someone should lock you up because at this rate youre gonna hurt yourself by breathing

yourusername im having a brat summer ☹️

arthur_leclerc dont think its how it works lutin

francisca.cgomes rumour has it that she didn’t take her girlfriend with her to her trip

lilymhe rumour has it that she broke her other girlfriend’s heart

yourusername NOOOO IM SORRY 😭😭😭 LET ME MAKE IT UP WHEN THE BREAK ENDS

marverstappen1 girl how do you even function with that clumsy brain of yours?

yourusername kellypiquet please tell p that max is making fun of me because i got hurt

kellypiquet she’s making you a card rn

maxverstappen1 our house turned into a glitterlandia because of that card

yourusername I LOVE HER SO MUCH

user3 i honestly cant wait for the pyn reunion in zandvoort 🥹🥹🥹

yourusername same shes my true one 👊👊

charles_leclerc oscarpiastri take your aussie hands off my baby sister or ill crash into you in zandvoort 😁

charles_leclerc for legal purpose this may or may not be a joke

yourusername crash into him and i’ll do something worse than have his hands on me and make you watch

francisca.cgomes

liked by pierregasly, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and 432 621 others.

francisca.cgomes a girls night gone wrong…

— tagged alexandrasaintmleux, yourusername

view all comments!

user4 i bet my LIFE that yn had to go to the er 😭😭😭

pierregasly THIS is what you meant by a surprise??????

francisca.cgomes surprise . . . 😦

alexandrasaintmleux it was fun while it lasted . . .

user5 WHY DOES THE COMMENTS SEEM LIKE YN DIED WHERE IS HER COMMENT

user6 yn rn 💀🪦🪦

user7 you are not funny! hope that helps ❤️

charles_leclerc girl where is my sister 😭😭😭😭

yourusername WHY ARE YALL ACTING LIKE I DIED?????

user8 SHES ALIVE YOU GUYS

oscarpiastri kika you were supposed to bring her back in one piece?

francisca.cgomes sorry it was not my fault

francisca.cgomes literally not my fault this time a guy bumped into her shoulder and she fell 😭😭😭

yourusername i sprained my ankle :(

alexandrasaintmleux we still love you 🫶

user9 ngl i would give my leg to be a part of this friendship

user10 same

landonorris petition to keep yourusername locked in a cage

user11 😧😧😧

yourusername you gotta catch me first 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

pierregasly i second this

lilymhe i third

alexandrasaintmleux ily yn but i fourth ☹️

twitter !

user13 WHEN ITS GONNA BE MY TURN???

user14 i need an oscar in my life but idk if i wanna be yn 😭

user15 you r so real for that oomf

user16 ngl i wish i could be oscar to be with yn

user17 god just knew that if she made yn flawless she would be too much for mortals

user18 she ?

user17 god is a woman and her name is pascale leclerc 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

user19 LMAO

lando.jpg

liked by alex_albon, yourusername, logansargeant and 772 812 others.

lando.jpg never accept an invitation from yourusername for a dinner at her house because there’s a 100% chance she’s gonna burn herself while making you food

view all comments!

oscarpiastri shouldnt have invited YOU

lando.jpg ??? MEAN ???

oscarpiastri dont make fun of my clumsy girlfriend

yourusername when he’s protective ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

yourusername i burnt myself while YOU ALL WERE LAUGHING

user20 oscar was laughing too?😭

arthur_leclerc he was glaring at everyone laughing while looking after yn

user21 oscar is the bestest boyfriend possible i need an oscar in my life

user22 yourusername can you fight?

yourusername i have three older brothers, go figure it out

user22 (｡•́︿•̀｡)

charles_leclerc cant believe they didn’t invite ME and they invited YOU

arthur_leclerc she invited me and enzo LOL

user23 lando.jpg comeback to make fun of oscars gf 😭😭😭

charles_leclerc SHE WAS MY SISTER FIRST

user24 yn is a klutz first human second

oscarpiastri

liked by pascale_leclerc, nicolepiastri, yourusername and 921 728 others.

oscarpiasti a few things that summer break gave me: a dog (yes, i’m officially a dog dad), relaxing time with my friends n family, a fiancée and lots of headaches due to the clumsiness of my gorgeous fiancée.

view all comments!

yourusername i love youuuuuu

hattiepiastri THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT???

hattiepiastri yourusername YOURE MARRYING MY BROTHER????

hattiepiastri HOW DID THAT HAPPEN??

yourusername i flipped a coin

georgerussell63 it probably hit you in the face too, no?

user25 IMAGINE THE FAMILY GATHERINGS???

user26 hold on is oscar gonna go there as charles’ son or yn’s throphy husband??

user27 the family dynamics must be crazy??? because wdym his girlfriend’s brother ADOPTED him??

oscarpiasti fiancee’s*

user27 oh hes not playing

user28 this gon be soooo awkward at the family dinner

yourusername BURN THE PAPERS charles_leclerc HES MINE NOW

charles_leclerc HE WAS MINE FIRST

nicolepiastri i’m pretty sure he was mine first 🥰

pascale_leclerc now we have to share children nicolepiastri

landonorris love you guys but you shouldn’t have a wedding because with yns abilities she might turn the party into a funeral

mclaren so glad to have yn in the mclaren family! 🧡

user29 engagement this engagement that we KNEW you would tie the knot sooner or later WHAT IS THE DOGS NAME 🗣️🗣️🗣️

oscarpiastri pepper :)

user30 yn and lorenzo both engaged in 2024?? leclerc siblings are going STRONG

lewishamilton congratulations to you guys 💚💚

sebastianvettel lots of love and patience with that one, oscar :)

user31 not the girls not congratulating oscyn… fake friends?

user32 gtfo they prob knew abt it already and congratulated them IN PERSON and not in instagram photo comments

francocolapinto lost my chance 😞😔😭😭😢

user33 LMAOOO??? bro saw her at ONE (1) race and fell in love

user34 honestly cant blame him

user35 pls never media train him

yourusername pls franco never change 🫶

pierregasly pls dont elope i need that free food

yukitsunoda0511 dude youre a MILLIONAIRE?

pierregasly dude gtfo

yukitsunoda0511 if i were them i would elope just to spite you

oscarpiastri dont give yn any ideas pls

yourusername no eloping for us i need my brothers to walk me down the aisle 😁😁😁

georgerussell63 to make sure you don’t trip over the dress?

yourusername youre officially uninvited 👎

user36 SHE WANTS CHARLES ENZO AND ARTHUR WALKING HER DOWN THE AISLE??? OH IM GONNA KILL MYSELF

[devotedlystrangewizard]

will never forget the time the school counselor told me that maybe my ex friend couldnt accept me being trans because he was in love with me. or the time he gave my number to his ex and asked her to text me and she informed me that he spent the entire year since i last spoke to him talking about how great i was. actually fascinating. same guy who exploded when anyone even dared to imply he wasnt straight

[timmydraker]

Tim’s parents demand a meeting with Bruce and their son himself to discuss the future of their company and Tim’s place in it. Everyone knows they probably want to get in on Bruce’s wealth and business so they might be able to go from millionaires to billionaires like Bruce.

To everyone’s surprise, Tim accepts and says he’ll do it as long as Bruce will stay with him the entire time.

Obviously Dick refuses not to and Damian insist as the ‘true heir’, which makes Jason want to as well just cause he’s not being left out. Duke promises to stay out of it and keep the girls busy so Tim doesn’t feel cornered or smothered in worry.

So, Bruce and his three sons sit on the meeting with Bruce doing most do the talking and Tim sitting on a chair with his brothers all keeping eyes on him.

Jack and Janet try to give pleasantries to their son but he just stared at them, a blank look that even Bruce can’t decipher if only because he’s never seen it before.

Jack does most of the talking, explaining that Tim still has a set aside amount of many and place in the company but that it’s only there because he’s kept the family name. They explain that they would be happy for Tim to take the Wayne name as long as their son gives up his legal place in the company and hands over his personal funds they gifted him willingly.

They subtly explain that they want him to continue to work with the as he works with WE extremely well, and that they could possibly become partners.

Tim would still be the co-CEO of WE as well as COF for Drake Industries but he must… ‘donate’ money to them regularly as a show of good partner ship.

Bruce is furious that they just want money and haven’t acknowledged their son or the fact that he just turned eighteen, but he remains calm and after almost twenty minutes of talking Dick cuts them all off.

“Perhaps-we could ask Tim himself what he thinks of this offer.”

The growing tension both settles and raises as everyone turns to Tim who is sitting like a statue.

He looks like he could be dissociating but there’s a distinct presence in his eyes like he doesn’t want to miss a single word or second.

Jack sits back and gives Tim a stern look, “Well, son? What do you say?”

Tim speaks in the same voice Bruce has heard him talk to clients he doesn’t like, “I’ll accept, I’ll even give my earnings from the company.” Just as Jack and Janet begin to look smug and his family members look shocked he adds, “on one condition.”

Janet looks at him like he’s the most vile creature ever and covers it with a forced smile as Alfred pours more tea for her as a means to appease the clearly nasty woman.

Everyone waits for Tim to state his condition but none of them are ready for when he looks his parents each in the eye and says in the calmest, most level voice the most shocking sentence nace they have ever heard from both Tim and Red Robin:

“I want you to kill yourselves.”

.

..

…

No one speaks.

Jason and Dick look genuinely afraid, Damian looks taken aback though not nearly as shocked as Bruce is with his jaw hanging low.

Alfred for the first time in his life serving the Waynes spills tea and looks at Tim in a way that shows he is genuinely aghast.

Janet and Jack are frozen looking at their son like he’s a different person, which is funny as that implies they knew he was before.

Tim doesn’t smile or gloat, he does nothing to suggest his words were one big joke or last ‘fuck you’ to them.

He sits still and patient, waiting for an answer.

Janet opens her mouth several times to speak but never gets any words out though Jack manages to get over his shock and fury crosses his face. He opens his mouth, most likely to yell or berate his son but Tim beats him to it.

“It’s your choice. I’ve said all I want, so kill yourself or leave.”

Tim picks up his own tea and watches as Jack and Janet storm out of Wayne Manner.

Silence prevails for a while with none of the family talking until Damian breaks the silence, “Holy shit.”

[imsobadatnicknames2]

tbh one of my biggest fears with gen ai is the potential reaction to it in terms of law with people wanting tighter copyright protections, like in the modern net there are endless remixes of music,art and game mods created by individuals but everyone knows that if the original copyright holders (the corp not the actual creator) had their way those would be eliminated since all they want is to increase their profits,so they'd make themselves the exclusive source of say skyrim like with the paid mods Bethesda tried to do which didn't work out but still shows they were willing to put their foot in the door.

Yeah!!! that's the same opinion I've been expressing pretty much since the very start. It's especially annoying when you bring up how any proposed expansion of copyright laws and the ways they are enforced can legitimately jeopardize so much cool stuff that *is* objectively copyright infringement and people start making the argument that ackshually none of that cool stuff would be affected because fair use exists because like. When they make that argument it shows they clearly don't know what fair use is or what it does or how it works or what it protects.

Like legally speaking so much of the content people love from fanart to fanfics to AMVs to gifsets to funny edits and youtube poops etc etc etc is in a much more precarious position that they can even begin to imagine and it makes me feel insane that so many people legitimately don't see how precarious it is.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! A bit of a request for the batboys (Jason, Tim, Dick, and Damian), just something silly.

I recently saw a video of a girl saying her boyfriend's entire name as if he was in trouble only for her to tell him she loved him. It was funny to me at the time, it was also late at night lol.

Soo... How would the boys react to reader suddenly saying their full name out of the blue as if they were in trouble as a prank? 👀👀🤭

Dick is thinking to death about what he might done to earn you saying his full name, so much so the poor man was sweating bullets which each step he took in your direction

Did he miss an anniversary?

Date night?

Hayley’s vet appointment?

He wanted to know badly so that he could think up a way to make it up to you however you wanted. Steal his clothes because they smell like him, he didn’t care, he just didn’t like you using his full name.

So as he looked you deep in the eyes, mentally preparing for whatever left your mouth, only for you to relax your face and kiss his cheek much to his surprise.

‘I love you.’ You told him sweetly as you smiled at him.

‘What?’ Dick said.

‘I love you.’ You repeated, still smiling.

‘That’s…that’s all you’ve called my full, legal government name for, to tell me you love me?’ Dick asked as though he was waiting for a joke that was never going to come.

‘Yep.’ You said.

‘No catch.’

‘None.’

‘Can you stop calling me Richard now and go back to calling me baby, cutie, dickie bird or -preferable- handsome now?’ Dick again asks as he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders and was finally able to breathe again now that his questions could finally be laid to sleep.

You chuckled as you kissed his lip. ‘Sure, whatever you say, handsome.’

Damian is unfazed.

He’s use to his full name being used and he doesn’t exactly feel anything but annoyance that he has to leave the piece he has spent the better half of a week working on, just to answer your call.

Damian loved you without a doubt but he’s not exactly fond of whenever you try to follow along these tasteless ‘trends.’ Though he knows himself well enough to know that he would never stay upset or mad at you for long, you were his weak spot, his treasure forever and always even if this is the things they kept you entertained.

‘I know you’re not saying my full name for any particular reason my treasure.’ He told you rather plainly.

‘And how would you know there isn’t a reason I called for you?’ You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. Damian copied.

‘Because I have a good memory and I haven’t missed any important date, that’s not until next week, that and the fact that I can see the muscles in your face struggling to keep the smile at bay.’ Damian said as he pointed out your biggest sign that you were lying about something.

You always involuntarily smiled when telling a lie the title made it far easier for Damian to know that what you were saying was far from the truth. It was your Achilles heel and Damian knew how to use it to his advantage.

‘I’m not.’ You said, struggling to stop the smile.

‘You are and you’re doing a bad job at it my sweet.’ He replied as he was now the one cockily smiling, knowing he’s got you where he wants you that you couldn’t do anything but crack under his stare.

‘Fine you loser, I only called you in here to say I love you, there happy?’ You asked as you pouted.

Damian walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘All you had to do is say my treasure.’ Was all he said as he spent the rest of the day with you and Titus.

Jason is immediately in front of you within a heartbeat.

He, much like dick, didn’t like it when you use his full name.

You’re his partner! USE THE CUTE NICKNAMES YOU CHOSE FOR HIM INSTEAD! Who’s this Jason Todd? He only responds to Jaybird, jay jay, or baby with the occasional sweetheart from time to time.

‘Chipmunk, can you please tell me want I did wrong?’ Jason asked as he walked into the kitchen where you called him from.

You furrowed your brows. ‘Wrong? I only called you in here to tell you I love you.’ You replied as Jason started at you for a bit before he pinched your side, making you squeal.

‘You’re a little shit, you know that sweetheart.’ Jason asked as he kept pinching your sides, making you giggle and squeal in his hold. ‘Had me all worked up and everything.’ He adds as he starts biting your neck playfully.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Have mercy!’ You cried, trying to push yourself away from Jason but it was proven nearly impossible when your man was a literal wall of muscle.

‘’All I can hear as the squeaks of a cheeky little mouse.’ Is all Jason said as he continued to tickle, pinch at your sides. He hates it when you call him his full name, it reminded him of lesser then ideal times, sure it sounded far sweeter and loved when it was coming from you rather than theirs, but he’d much rather you call him anything it his full name.

Tim knows what you’re up to the very moment you use his full name.

His detective brain kicks into hyperdrive and goes into the logical explanation as to why the sudden change.

You’ve never used it before, so why now did you use it unless you had seen a cute trend or something that you thought was hilarious on TikTok, or on another social media platform and wanted to try it out for the sake of following whatever was the thing to do.

That or you were genuinely mad and he should at least go talk to you in hopes of de escalating the situation, should it come to it.

‘I love you.’ You said.

‘You’ve said my full name, lured me out of my room, just to say I love you?’ Tim asked with a raised brow as though his heart wasn’t going nuts once again with how much your words easily affected him.

You paused for a brief moment before smiling. ‘Yeah sounds about right.’

Tim sighs but he couldn’t help but feel a smile creep up on his lips. ‘You’re ridiculous sometimes I swear.’ He says under his breath, ‘you almost had me second guessing myself there but I’m glad this is what you called me out for instead.’ He finished as he pressed his forehead against your own, feeling relaxed and clear minded once more.

‘You may say I’m ridiculous but you love it when I keep you on your toes, it’s like a brain exercise in a way.’ You cheekily told him as you kissed his cheek.

‘You call that a brain exercise?’ Tim said. ‘That was barely a brain activity but more like a brain fart if anything.’ He said as you pouted and smacked his bicep, causing him to smile.

‘We can’t all be smart asses like you drake.’ You said and Tim shrugged as he tugged you close.

‘True but you certainly are a pain in the ass.’ Tim replied, which only made you slap his bicep again as he chuckled and you bury your head into his neck.

[mioakem]

shut up i’m talking patreon episode summary (only 7 dollars btw)

jack starts it off explaining the lead up to the situation and saying how dream involved himself out of nowhere. he said it was all very lighthearted leading up to dreams involvement (they don’t like mizkif or xqc very much but found the whole thing funny)

tommy said he didn’t think it would escalate very far and started off talking the piss out of it but after the 3 hour stream he realized it was getting serious. he didn’t want to involve himself with dream very much because a lot of people around him were saying that he shouldn’t speak to dream because of the way he took advantage of him when he was 16. tommy said he attempted to resolve it privately in the past but after the if youtubers were honest video dream sent him very mean and awful messages and after that he told dream he was going to block him everywhere (which he did)

jack says that it’s nearly impossible to resolve drama with dream privately because he makes everything public (and also it’s incredibly hard to talk to him) jack said that after the episode with phil he had a 2 hour long call with dream where they basically just went back and forth and nothing was really resolved

jack says that this episode was filmed right after dreams video dropped. tommy makes fun of the title (i’m sorry but not to tommyinnit). jack then admits that he does talk about dream a lot and he does it because he feels like before everything he was one of the only ones who openly disliked dream. jack says that everytime jack has criticized him in a non joking manner it hasn’t been a rumor. the only time jack has mentioned pedo rumors was when he was drunk and a fan asked if dream was a pedo and he said he couldn’t legally answer that. he said he was drunk and put on the spot. jack said that though he doesn’t think dream is a pedo he does think that messaging fans is inappropriate and strange. jack said that when the allegations came out dream messaged in the discord saying they were false and said he’s open to any questions. jack answered saying that even though he didn’t think dream was a pedo it was a little weird to be messaging fans (especially underaged ones). dream talked to jack privately after that saying that the message annoyed him because jack was being skeptical.

jack then talks about how on dreams stream he said that he knew some rumors about jack but wasn’t gonna say them but then said that there were rumors about jack being unfaithful. jack said that the point of that was that when jack had rumors it was handled privately but when dream had rumors it was very public- which is incredibly hypocritical because dream made jack’s situation public knowing it was false but jack kept dreams rumor private in his own regard.

tommy then jokes about cheating on molly and then goes into the editor thing. jack said that it’s a lie and then passes it over to tommy. tommy said he has nothing to say because there’s physical evidence that he didn’t underpay them (actually very graciously paid them). tommy says that it feels very weird that all his private messages keep going public. jack then starts talking about how the unpaid editor situation was actually about him. he said that he was one month into doing youtube and worked a minimum wage job and asked an editor what they wanted to be paid and they agreed on 50 quid. they said they both were young and didn’t know how much she should’ve been paid and he didn’t make any money from youtube at the time anyways. he said that now youtube is his job and he is much more knowledgeable in appropriate payments.

they then bring up how dream skipped over george and also how the only clip he took from tubbos stream was the one of him agreeing with him. jack says he can’t believe that dream tried to “win” by using straight up lies and brings up how dream has a reputation of lying and he doesn’t know why he did it.

tommy says he said all he needed to say in the video and the video was meant for dream rather than the viewers (except for the promo at the end). he says that dream knows why tommy called him sexist and he said that there’s so much that isn’t out and it’s incredibly miserable. tommy said that he doesn’t wanna do this anymore and he doesn’t feel happy with youtube anymore because of the creators in the space. he says that he won’t be doing the whole youtube thing in a couple years, he will still post videos but he’s not gonna interact with all the shit going around, especially when the people involved used to be his friends. he said that the dream video was kinda meant to be the last time he gets involved with everything. he says that it feels incredibly childish and that he’s appalled that people are pushing 30 and are doing this. tommy said that he makes jokes about mega famous people being dickheads because it’s how he puts his feelings into words. he says that dream is one of the most self indulging person he has ever dealt with in his life and he cannot believe he’s been dealing with him for nearly 5 years- and he doesn’t not intend to continue dealing with him. he says he doesn’t find the whole situation funny anymore and he finds no joy in it- which he did during the logan and mizkif situations. he says that this is no way to live and it’s all pointless to be creating drama like this online and whenever he punches up he’s not trying to cancel anyone he just wants to make a joke. he again says that it’s all childish and that they’re both adults now

jack brings up that there’s no one sticking up for dream and how everyone on the server that has spoken up has disagreed with dream. jack says that a lot of them have felt this way for years- especially him

tommy said that he feels very manipulated by a lot of these people and that it took him a very long time to realize how manipulative some of these people were. he tells a story about when he was just starting out and he did the lobby spamming in a twitch streamers lobby the guy got super mad at him and invited him to call and proceeded to scream at tommy and called him the r slur (he was 20 and tom was 14) he said he was super shaken and messed up from it- but now he’s incredibly used to it and it’s such a shame that he is.

jack said that he started disassociating with dream after the grooming allegations because he didn’t want to be friends with someone who would privately message fans (which was the case). he said that he doesn’t like being grouped in with dream because of the dsmp because he’s bad for his image so he’s tried his best to make it clear that he doesn’t like dream and that’s about all he wants.

they then start talking about how out of the blue everything was. jack said that he would understand his involvement if they had been bullying dream relentlessly for weeks but they were literally talking about mizkif and xqc at the time and

jack said that he’s made his piece why he doesn’t like him and how you don’t have to look very hard to see the manipulative tactics to get people on his side. they both say it’s painful watching him do that. jack said that he’s going to continue making jokes about what dream accused him of because they’re so ridiculous.

tommy says that it’s sad that the only thing that dream took from tommy’s video was that he was lying. he says it’s sad to see everyone come out with there bad experiences with dream and he can’t believe it got this bad.

jack says it’s questionable that dream mocked jack for jack not liking him because of things he’s heard about him and he was gonna keep joking about eveything public about him because it’s funny. jack said that there’s enough that’s true that makes him not want to associate with dream.

tommy says that dream is an impossibly selfish man . jack said that the only thing he’s gonna give to dream is that he’s clearly incredibly socially unaware and genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong- but that doesn’t excuse being a bitch. he says that people have tried to explain that to him but he just doesn’t get it. he also then asks how willing his misunderstanding is- because he most likely is aware of some of it. tommy says he lacks alot of empathy and doesn’t have guilt for the bad things he’s done. tommy says that it’s very easy to simply apologize but just keep doing the bad things and that’s what dream always does. tommy says he doesn’t take dreams apologies seriously anymore and he doesn’t forgive him.

tommy closes saying that he’s done with the drama and this is the last he will speak on it

[oceantornadoo]

ch1 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

masterlist | next

-

“Yer gettin’ married next week.”

You scoff at your brother staring at his Scotch whisky like it holds the answers to the universe.

“And you’re the king of Egypt. Funny, Simon.” He doesn’t laugh. Instead, he glances at Johnny, his husband and right-hand man. The two have a silent conversation, a head twitch followed by a pursing of lips. Johnny’s lips are cracked and split, something you can’t imagine your brother is attracted to. Superb mental health does not run in your family.

Johnny rises out of his chair, a wooden thing that creaks with effort, and takes his leave. He ruffles your hair on the way out while you try, for the thirtieth time, to shove his side. You are, yet again, unsuccessful. He’s built like a tank.

“M serious, love. ‘Ve been in negotiations the past month. It’s happenin’ next Saturday, St Etheldreda's Church.” You run through a list of churches in your head. St. Ethledreda’s is not in Manchester. In fact, you’re pretty sure it’s not in your territory. Which means…

“Why’re you naming a church in London?” Simon’s quiet as his eyes bore holes into yours. This is one of his favorite tactics to use on his men - staying silent until they find the answer themselves. You hate when he uses it on you like you’re under his command and not his younger sister. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“We need an alliance an’ they offered.”

“Then write a fuckin’ treaty! Not a marriage certificate.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.”

“It’s the 21st century.”

“Not in this family.”

That’s something you can’t argue against. Most people outside of your immediate circle don’t even know Simon’s married to Johnny, let alone into men. When he first came to power, you created a sob story for him - early marriage to his (female) childhood sweetheart, then fast-spreading cancer, ending with a man struck by grief. It allowed him a known reason for turning down arranged marriages while making him seem more human than your shared father. No one paid enough attention to you two as children to know the story wasn’t real, and fake certificates of marriage and death are a dime a dozen. Everyone knows he’s close with Johnny, his right-hand man, and that’s that.

“What about my bookstore?” It’s your pride and joy, plus it’s 95% legal. Mostly. 

“There’s bookstores in London.” London. Only 200 miles away, but it’s like another world. Another world where you can’t walk down the street where every single storefront owner knows who you are. Where the cops are on your family’s payroll and don’t blink an eye at the gun strapped to your hip. It doesn’t matter if you were raised away in your formative years, losing your accent and most concepts of slang that baffle you. It doesn’t matter if you only share a father with Simon, that your mother was a Riley employee and not Mrs. Riley. Manchester is your home. 

It doesn’t occur to you that you have a choice, mainly because you know you don’t. The firm, or mafia, gang, or whatever you want to call it, still operates as if women are objects to be traded and bought. Marriages are merely political agreements. Getting to run a bookstore, or cash-cleaning business, as a woman is almost unheard of where you’re from. Others might call you lucky, but it’s more like being a bird in a gilded cage. A glimpse of what a true, normal life might look like. Living in a flat above your store, hosting local book clubs, setting out free cookie samples - all to be ruined when Johnny stumbles through with a gunshot or the newest recruits are sent to grab more bullets from the basement. Every other week, you snap back from your daydream and remember that you’re a mafia princess at the end of the day, though duchess seems more adequate since the Rileys don’t have that big of a territory.

“And who is my husband-to-be in London?”

“John Price.”

“I’d rather marry Nikolai. In fact, I might just go elope.” Simon glares and you glare back. “I’m not marrying John Price.” You clarify, for emphasis. Simon leans forward in his office chair, looming over his desk like a puppet master. You’re in the chair across from him, crossing your legs casually like you’re not discussing your arranged marriage and potential future. “Contract’s done, love. Jus’ waitin’ on yer signature.” Your signature, the one change from the barbaric practices of old England. You could say no, but then Simon would have no choice but to cut you off. It would be a sign of weakness to the other families if he let a delinquent bastard half-sister run his decisions.

“I want to negotiate the contract.” It’s the closest your brother has ever been to rolling his eyes. They twitch with restraint, blonde lashes flickering. “This isn’t a TV show, kid. Yer not negotiatin’ yer bloody contract.” You uncross your legs, hands on your armrest like you’re about to leave. “Fine. Let me go call up the NCA, tell them all about my brother and his scary gang.” He sighs deeply, then pulls out his phone. “Bloody hell. Can’t wait t’ marry you off, fuckin’ arsehole.” You grab the bright pink stress ball on his desk, a stocking stuffer you gave him as a joke, and throw it at him. He doesn’t even bother to look up from his phone, huffing as the ball hits the side of his head. 

“Here.” He tosses you the phone that’s already ringing. There’s no contact name, just initials. JP. “Riley. Got a problem?” A smooth baritone emits from the phone’s tinny speakers. “Hope you’re not busy this weekend, future hubby. I can’t wait to see you.” Simon sighs at the consequences of his own actions. John’s silent on the other end, processing your words. Bit thick, that one.

“An’ why’s that, sweetheart?” It’s a term of endearment but he laces it with vitriol. “We’re having tea on Saturday at my store. Bring your contract and favorite lawyers. See you then!” You hang up before he can answer, tossing the phone back to Simon. He shakes his head at you.

“Smile, Simon. It’ll be nice to bond with your brother-in-law.”

This is going to be a very long marriage.

If you even get down the aisle.

-

Why does reader hate John? Why is she also a little shit? All will be revealed :)

[goddamnitmahtin]

Jason is a Teenage Dad Part 3

The following month after Jason came home with Danny was…. a lot of work to say the least. There were so many things to do now that there were 2 more kids in the house than there used to be and Bruce was not used to acclimating to more than one kid at a time. Last time there was a buffer. On top of that, there were all of the legal and social responsibilities that came with Danny and Tim.

Bruce was able to get Tim’s paperwork squared away pretty easily since the police and CPS were both a joke and didn’t really even look at it before approving it. Which was funny since the adoption papers were written on his Batcomputer since he didn’t feel like going out to pick up a real one. It was identical to a real one though.

Tim was doing well and seemed to be fitting into the household smoothly from what Bruce could tell. Maybe his old life wasn’t so different from his new one. He also did well at his first gala as a Wayne. He didn’t cause nearly as much trouble as Dick used to. He didn’t hang from a single chandelier.

Jason and Danny on the other hand… well Jason was trying his best. And Bruce could tell that he had grown attached to Danny. Which was why he didn’t tell him he was doing a background check on the child to see if he had anywhere to go. If they had someone’s kid and didn’t give him back, Gordon would be on his ass about it.

Bruce couldn’t find anything on the kid. Nothing. He thought he may have found a relative in Amity Park as he found a photo of a boy in a public record year book that looked a lot like him but when he tried to reach out to the family, they denied having lost a child around 3.

After that, Bruce reluctantly looked into the logistics of Jason becoming Danny’s legal guardian. He would have preferred if Danny became Bruce’s ward until Jason turned 18 so he could legally adopt him with much less hassle but Jason didn’t like that idea when he talked to him about it. So Bruce had to figure how to sidestep and loophole his way into becoming a grandpa. It’s been exhausting so far.

Although Bruce was having a bit of a struggle with the changes going on in his home, he wasn’t having as hard of a time as Danny. That kid was definitely in some sort of traumatic situation before Jason found him. He was often hiding or running when he wasn’t clinging onto Jason like a life preserver. So far he hadn’t had any major scares due to Jason being oddly in tune with what to avoid.

The part that was the most stressful though? Explaining to Commissioner Gordon why he had the Joker’s head in his house. No body. Just the head. He explained that one of his kids found the head and brought it home. It wasn’t a lie but he wasn’t going to tell him the exact truth either. He was already lying about the fact that Jason died. The public was under the impression that it was just some joke the Joker pulled and he never actually killed Robin.

Bruce and Jason had covered it up by telling people that because of the whole fiasco Robin was taking a break from the field until it blew over. Although he wasn’t really sure how Jason was going to return to being Robin. Danny never left his side. Not to mention he didn’t really seem interested in it like he was before. Which… was fine. Once word got out that the Joker was dead, the public was pretty 50/50 about Robin. Half saying he was a hero for “killing” him and the other half worried about the ethic implications.

Bruce was going to have to talk to Jason about this more. It wasn’t like Bruce hadn’t fought alone before. He knew how. It was just significantly easier if he had some help. And he was NOT going to call Clark every time something happened. Of course he was never going to force Jason to do it. Infact, Bruce was relieved that Jason might actually want to live a normal childhood. Well as normal is it can be raising a child.

At least the household was finding its own routine again. Everyone was getting used to each other and Alfred was estatic that there were more mouths to feed claiming that he would “not have to hold back my cooking prowess now that I can make dishes meant for many people, Master Wayne!”

This morning, Alfred had outdone himself making a breakfast buffet of sorts that they could all grab from. Bruce got himself a plate and grabbed a little bit of everything. He always enjoyed trying Alfred’s food and he saw some things he didn’t recognize so he grabbed those.

Bruce sat down at the table and watched as the others in the house slowly peeled in. First was Jason who grabbed some toast and promptly left again since Danny often had nightmares and tended to freak out if Jason wasn’t there when he woke up.

Then it was Tim. He watched the boy make himself a plate and begin to eat silently. Bruce hated that. During the first two weeks or so of Tim living there, he thought that was just his personality. Very quiet, avoiding attention until necessary. But then he noticed that Tim commented about being used to being overlooked for “more important things” and it made Bruce’s blood boil to think that was how he was treated.

Bruce could tell that Tim hadn’t lied about that fact. He showed every sign of someone who wasn’t used to even being perceived while in the same room unless he was “needed.” Bruce was working to try and correct that since he knew how lonely a life that was.

“Hey Tim, your awfully quiet this morning. I assume you’ve found yourself a little mystery?” Bruce said, hoping to coax the kid into talking about whatever was on his mind. He had found that this strategy worked more times than not since he loved to talk about his interests.

As always, Tim looked surprised that he was being spoken to at all. Bruce hated that. He was going to make sure this kid knew he deserved attention.

“Uh yeah actually. I noticed that…” Tim began to animatedly talk about how Batman’s fighting style was significantly different when there was no one else around compared to when he had a Robin with him and that he found it fascinating that despite being able to more freely fight without worry of an ally being injured causing more efficient takedowns when it came to combat with a large number of goons, he also seemed to have a slower time with deductive reasoning without another person to bounce off of or talk to, leading to higher risk of civilian loss when it came to certain rogues like Joker or Riddler.

Bruce wasn’t dumb. He had started to suspect that Tim knew he was Batman two weeks ago. He didn’t make that fact subtle. Tim had been very much making sure that every opportunity he had to talk, he was talking about Batman. And he often had very interesting things to say that Bruce actually took to note. Tim wasn’t afraid of being honest about the shortcomings of the dark knight.

The thing was though about Tim’s current subject of fighting style and efficiency, was that he was right. Bruce did have a harder time with unplanned things when it came to taking down rogues. Fighting wasn’t a problem. He knew how to fight alone and he had done it before. But the ability to think on his feet without a person to bounce off of or use in his plans was much harder to do after not having to do it for years.

Bruce hated to admit it but… Tim had a valuable mind that would be perfect for a Robin. If he were to ever want to do that. Which knowing Bruce’s track record when it came to adopted kids…. he probably would. He just don’t know if he wanted to put another kid in danger. He didn’t have any proper training like Dick or Jason. And Jason literally died recently so the reality of what being Robin meant was really looming over Bruce’s mind right now.

Tim’s unapologetic and devastatingly accurate analysis of Batman was only interrupted when Jason reemerged with a newly awake Danny, still rubbing his eyes in his arms.

“Morning Danny,” Bruce said.

Danny scanned the room cautiously and after only seeing the people he was used to, he visibly relaxed, “Morning Grand-B. Morning Tim.”

Jason smiled, putting Danny down and telling him to pick a seat so he could make him a plate. Bruce knew this was a good sign that Danny’s morning didn’t start horribly wrong. No nightmares.

While at first they had a hard time getting Danny to feel safe enough to play or explore or even let go of Jason’s hand, they had made great progress and now as long as Jason was in the room, Danny was able to walk around on his own without as much fear and Bruce was glad to see that he was improving. However the whole Grand-B thing was something that Bruce hadn’t expected. But no doubt that was Jason’s influence.

Danny crawled onto a chair and looked at all the food cautiously as he did every morning. He stared at it for a moment as if looking for something as he did every morning. When he didn’t find anything, he smiled and agreed to eat. As he did every morning. Bruce didn’t know what trauma this kid had that made him distrust food that he didn’t watch get made but he did know that at least he didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

Jason made Danny a plate and poured himself some coffee. Bruce would have said something about it being bad for him to drink it at his age but the last time he did, Jason very dramatically pointed out that other things could kill him faster than coffee. Like the Joker. With a crowbar. It also didn’t help that he learned that Tim also drank obscene amounts of coffee. Bruce learned to pick his battles on that one.

“Hey Tim, how’d your first gala go? I heard you dissed some CEO for embezzlement,” Jason said casually while sipping his coffee. He didn’t look it, but Bruce knew Jason thought it was hilarious.

Tim shrugged, “I just pointed out that according to public record he should have had enough money to pay his employees way better than he does. He’s the one who assumed I thought he was embezzling. Which he is by the way. I did the math and tracked his personal purchases a while back,” Tim said matter of factly.

Bruce wanted to be surprised but from what he had learned and seen from Tim since their meeting, he was crazy smart and had an eye for inconsistencies. A little detective in his own right.

“Daddy are we still going to the observatory tonight?” Danny asked, his plate already cleared of food.

Bruce watched as Jason went into dad mode. It was off putting the first few times he had watched it happen but by now Bruce was getting used to this new side of Jason.

“Of course my little star,” the 15 year old said as he helped Danny clean up the very little food Danny had gotten on himself while eating, “Daddy doesn’t have much homework today so we can go extra early. Are you excited?”

“Yeah!” little Danny exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. This was going to be Danny’s first time out of the manor since moving in. Jason had picked the observatory since not many people went there and Danny really loved space. Bruce hoped that everything went well so Danny wouldn’t be scared of going out again in the future.

Bruce continued eating after Jason and Danny left to get ready for the day. While at first he hadn’t quite liked the idea of Jason transferring his studies to homeschooling, he seemed to be adapting to it well and it gave him more time with Danny to take care of him and help him when he panicked. To be honest… Bruce was very proud of Jason for the Dad he seemed to be becoming.

…

Sam and Tucker knew that it was bad news when the GIW shipped off in their trucks with Danny inside. They knew their friend was probably fucked. But they had hope. Except… that was 7 months ago. And last month the SCP Foundation came through Amity and cleaned up after the GIW who were apparently stealing their SCPs. Sam and Tucker had mentioned that their friend was taken and the foundation said that they would reach out if they found him. Apparently SCPs that were considered not dangerous were allowed to do normal human things like have friends. Who knew. Except that call never came.

At this point the two of them didn’t really know what to do. They didn’t want to believe that Danny was fully dead because he would have come to see them. But they also knew that if the SCP Foundation didn’t find him then the GIW didn’t have him anymore either. But if no one had him, why hadn’t he come home?

They were at a loss until Tucker came across an old text in the Smithsonian online library. It was a list of summoning spells and circles for different being types or certain beings themselves if they were powerful enough. Maybe they could just… summon Danny home?

At first they looked into the ghosts summoning spells but it seemed to be fairly unstable and there was no way to guarantee that the results would be what they wanted so they kept looking until they found a sigil for the Ghost King. The circle and and incantation were well thought out and the entire ritual seemed to be pretty straight forward. Maybe the Ghost King knew where Danny was? Since he was half ghost and all…

So the next thing they knew, Sam and Tucker were in an abandoned shed a few miles out of town drawing a summoning circle on the floor. Tucker did most of the outline work and Sam tackled the sigil that had to be drawn in the center. They took their time with it so it would come out right.

According to the book, some sort of sacrifice had to be made but ii said that it could be literally anything as long as it held value to you. Sam had suggested she bring something from her house but Tucker insisted that the only thing they probably had that was important enough to them both that they had was his PDA. So…. Tucker very sadly set it down inside the circle.

Then they began the chanting. Sam lit the candles the way the instructions described. Tucker followed the hand motions exactly.

Instantly, the circle began to glow as the summoning began to work. They watched as it got brighter and brighter, the green emanating from the portal that opened in the ground filled the entire space. And then… a figure appeared on a massive throne, adorned in a bellowing cape of stars and a crown of ice.

“I am the Ghost King, hi how are you doing? Just throwing it out there before we get started, I’m not into the whole mass destruction thing so don’t ask me to end the world. Oh hey! Sam and Tucker!”

Sam and Tucker were shocked to see Danny in front of them in full on ghost mode. But he looked different. Felt different. More powerful and maybe slightly older? Not the 15 year old they went to school with.

“Danny?” Sam said, frozen in shock.

They watched as Ghost King Danny squinted his eyes at them for a moment before realization seemed to hit him, “Oh you aren’t my Sam and Tucker. Hey Clocky, what universe is this?”

A post it note appeared in the air next to Danny. He plucked it out of the air and read it before saying, “Ohhh that makes sense okay.”

Tucker spoke up this time, “Danny… what’s going on?”

Danny smiled, “Ah well in the universe I’m from, I became the Ghost King. But since the Ghost King is a being of the Infinite Realms, I’m the Ghost King for all universes, not just mine. I am Danny, just not your universe’s Danny.”

Sam and Tucker felt a wave of disappointment wash over them. It was great that Danny from another universe got all powerful and stuff but it was still disheartening that it wasn’t their Danny in the circle.

“Soo… what’s up? People don’t really summon the Ghost King unless crazy shit is going down,” Ghost King Danny said, leaning forward on his throne.

Sam and Tucker explained everything, from the GIW to the SCP Foundation to their Danny never returning. Alive or dead.

“Huh… weird. Well he’s not dead. If an alternate me died I would have seen the paperwork,” the kingly version of their friend said while thinking. Then a tired look appeared on his face as if he had remembered something and it was something quite annoying.

“Clocky… what did you do?” he asked the air. Another post it note appeared. Danny read the note. Then let out a large sigh.

“You two ever heard of Gotham?”

Part 2 Part 4

[thewritingfairy]

Kind of had a funny thought of gotham villains become reader's (nobody's child) third family. Since she works in Penguin's restaurant, she probably gets to know them a little when they aren't committing crimes.

Please forgive my limited knowledge on Gotham baddies 🙏

Harley and Ivy become the big sisters y/n never had. Participate is school gossip, and (Harley mostly) helps y/n with her homework whenever y/n does it during her break. They also drive her home. "Gotham's dangerous ya know?"

Dr. Freeze is the one who acts if she ever has an episode (I hope I'm using the right vocabulary on this) with her illness.

Selina also does wellness checks on her. Being Bruce's... ex? Would she be an ex in this au? Either way, she'd know about y/n and look in on her now and again, also give her little gifts. Were they stolen? Probably.

Mentioned: જ⁀➴Nobody's child

I will be honest, I also have rather limited knowledge on most of the rogues. But Harley and Ivy give me more of an aunt vibe for some reason.

Like; fresh out of jail aunts that are ready to create chaos.

Dr. Freeze I do not know a lot off, like I vaguely remember him from games and comics. But from what I remember he would be the one staying far away as a lot temperature drops or highs can make you iller or make your pain worse.

Selina? Oh, Selina. She wouldn't just give you little gifts, she would fuck with Bruce even more. Flirt with him just to break his heart.

But Slade in Nobody's child? Now the reader in Nobody's child has strong morals but because they work for Penguin Slade will interact with you. Especially because he's kinda obsessed with Dick, which creeps you the fuck out.

To Slade you are better than Dick, while you would never join him and it wouldn't be physically possible he would absolutely offer you a home if he knew you would accept it. He doesn't care about legalities, fuck, he'll pretend to kidnap you! The bats don't have shit on him!

[hellsquills]

Reason To Believe

Man it struck me kinda funny Seemed kinda funny sir to me How at the end of every hard earned day People find some reason to believe

tw: drugs mention

Ford had been receiving mystery calls for a while. They weren't very common, but in the last seven years he had got over 50. They were all fairly similar: he would answer the phone introducing himself, then asking who was on the other side of the line, and then he'd hear some quick breathing and other assorted street noises. Whoever they were, they would always call from a phone booth, not a closed space like a house. Sometimes, especially at the beginning, Ford would wait a few moments to try to get the other person to talk; he never succeeded. Then, as time went on and he became busier with work, he would snap at the caller, demanding them to reveal themselves, because he had no time for stupid games. The worst part came later, when he was in contact with different institutions that were offering him grants and he would be forced to always pick up the phone and wait for an answer, just to be met with more sighing and silence. It was driving him crazy.

He had tried everything: he had waited patiently; he had talked into the phone in hopes the receiver would articulate a single word back; he had changed his phone number a few times and only shared them with scholars, his family and Fiddleford; he had threatened the mystery caller with calling the police, trying in vain to intimidate them... None of that ever worked. In the last few years, he simply settled for ignoring it. Not because he didn't want to know who it was, but merely because he didn't have time for another theory to solve. He had to focus on his work, and he made the stranger know just that.

“It's you again? Wonderful. Make sure you listen to me. If the next time you call I don't hear a word as soon as I pick up, I will track you down. I have the technology to do it, and I will. This is my final warning. Do you understand?”

As per usual, no answer. Ford had hung up feeling like he finally made some progress, even if that was just partially true. He had made Fiddleford aware of his situation after the previous time, in which his friend was in the room when the call came through. The taller man, as usual, had matched his curiosity and was rather interested in the mystery, and he had begun building a tracking device. With their very packed schedules it was taking longer than they initially expected, but it was coming along. It was ready just in time for the next call.

“F! Get your invention, quick!”

The aforementioned jumped out of his bed and looked under it, pulling a box with God-knows-what in it.

“Are you ready?”

“Yessir.”

“Stanford Pines speaking.”

A beat of silence. Expected.

“Stanf-”

“Sixer...”

Ford's eyes nearly popped. He couldn't believe it.

“Sixerrr... tallk t'me...”

Actually, he could believe it.

It was so obvious. Who could have access to his phone number if not the people he gave it to? Easy: someone who got it from someone he did give it to. It also had to be someone close to him: he had thoroughly insisted on keeping this number private and to not share it with anyone he didn't know about. Of course, his mother (definitely not his father) had found the legal loophole and sent it to his only brother that didn't already have it.

Now it was his time to sigh. “Stanley?”

“Heyyy... what's up, whatcha doin'? How's life?”

This was unbelievable.

“Are you serious?” he began, his tone severe but under cont– “Are you serious?!”

No more self-control. Ford had exploded, destroying any remaining patience and curiosity he had before he heard his brother's voice. Even Fiddleford had stopped in his tracks, looking at Ford like he just grew an extra head. He knew about Stanley, his friend had told him about him when he found an old picture of two identical boys on top of a boat in between all of Ford's papers. He hadn't elaborated further, and Fiddleford hadn't pried.

“It was you? All of this time, it was you who was calling me?! For what, just to play with me? Was this just a sick prank of yours?!”

“...”

“Don't you dare stay quiet now!”

“I won't... 'm sorry.”

“Yeah, I bet you are sorry. Sorry because I caught you, I presume. What sort of prank is this?”

“S-Sixer pleas’... liss'n t'me...”

“Maybe I do not want to, Stanley! I have tried to listen to you, and you would not answer! Why should I listen to you?”

The sound of a slap against flesh was his only response, followed by a loud metallic thud. For a split second, Ford's anger turned into concern.

“What was that?” No reply. “Stanley, what was that?”

“Me,” his brother said. “'m tryna stay 'wake.”

“What do you mean awake–” Ford's concern quickly dissipated. The rage that followed was like nothing he had felt in a long time. “Have you been calling me while drunk?!”

It all made sense. The sighs, the silence, the very noticeable slurring that Ford hadn't discerned due to his agitated state... and now the self-beating. His brother was drunk, very drunk, and he was dragging Ford along with him for his miserable ride. The absolute nerve.

“Are you fucking serious, Stanley?! You've been calling me for years only to say nothing, making me paranoid that someone was stalking me, making me lose sleep over this, just because you were getting drunk?! And what, you decided that being miserable on your own wasn't entertaining enough, so you would call me… for what exactly? What were you trying to achieve with this stunt? Are you that much of a coward that you wouldn't even speak as I picked up?”

More silence, only broken by a nearby motorcycle.

“You're unbelievable. Utterly unbelievable. Almost ten years and you haven't had the guts to call me once, to apologize, to even start a conversation. And now it turns out you only do not care to speak to me, but also that this is some sick joke to you!” Once again, Ford's anger was turning into something else, and he knew what it was. He tried to focus on his rage rather than on the tight feeling that was taking over his whole heart. “I don't know what compelled you to do this dozens of times, but whatever you just drank, I need you to sober up and listen: Stop. Calling me. I was already mad at you and I was already mad at the mystery caller. But knowing that you're the same person is just too much. If you want to spend your time making poor decisions and ruining your life go ahead, but don't rope me into this no more! So for the last time, what do you want?!”

Ford's ears were ringing. He didn't think he had it in him to blow up like he did, but there it was; the accumulated frustration he had been feeling for almost a decade, let loose in a few minutes. He was furious, not only at the situation, but also because he didn't want this. He didn't want to explode like that. He didn't want his brother to be the mystery caller. And, above all, he didn't want to know Stanley was only calling him while intoxicated. Like their relationship was something so unimportant that a drunken conversation would do. Like he cared so little that a drunken joke was his way of entertainment.

For as much as he wanted to hate his brother, he couldn't. He could be angry, but not hateful. He had tried for years, but just imagining Stanley stopping by his college to apologize and make up was enough to give him hope. Such useless thing, hope.

“I jus' wanna say goodbye.”

What was that? “What?”

“Goodbye, Ford.”

A chill ran down Ford's spine. He should be angry, why was Stan's voice worrying him?

“What do you mean 'say goodbye'?” His voice was way less demanding than he would've liked. Ford looked up, only to see Fiddleford staring at him with his eyes fully open. At least he wasn't the only one taken aback.

“You won't hear from me again, doncha worry.”

“Stanley, clear your drunken mind for a second and speak. What are you talking about?” Stan said he'd leave him alone, why hadn't he hung up on him already?

“'m dead, Sixer. They're gonna kill me.”

Great. Just what he needed, a paranoid drunk brother.

“Stanley, for god's sake, you're just–”

“I'M NOT DRUNK, SIXER!” Stan screamed, loud enough that even Fiddleford on the other line flinched. “They... they found me... they gave me some'ing... but I ran. I'm out.”

Ford couldn't speak. If this was his brother's last attempt to gain his pity, it was working. He wanted to believe this was some drunken delusion, but Stan sounded incredibly scared. Stan was never scared. And if he was, he wouldn’t show it. In the very offhand chance that he was right...

“They'll find me. The car's outta fuel, and I... I can't even think. Whatever they put in my arm, it's strong. I can't go anymore. I'm so tired.”

A gentle hand on his knee brought him back to his senses. Fiddleford, who was sitting right in front of him on the floor, mouthed the words what's happening?.

“'m so sorry, Ford,” Stan said all of a sudden, and Stanford's heart fully broke. His twin was crying. His brother never cried, not even when he tricked people as kids. When was the last time he'd seen Stan…? Oh. Oh, no. “For everythin'. You're right, always, like always. I tried, I really did, I promise, but I just... I couldn't even be the only thing I was born to be... a brother.”

Ford opened his mouth, only to close it again at the sound of another, harder slap on the other side of the line.

“Listen, I put all ma money on this call, so please... please don' hang up.” Stan's voice was the slightest bit clearer after that second slap, but Ford could only focus on the way his voice was raspy, shaking, and pleading. He couldn't find a single trace of lying.

I won't, he said, only to himself.

“'m so sorry for everything. Everything. Not only whatcha thinkin' 'bout.” Even through the phone, Stan could read him like a book. “'m sorry for not being enough, ever. I wasn't smart 'nough to go study with ya, or strong enough to defend ya from all those assholes at school, or rich enough to get us both outta New Jersey like we wanted.” Ford was trying to make a mental note of everything his brother was saying, and he restrained himself from denying Stan’s words. “I always knew I was useless, but... you were still with me. And I would think it was because we're just twins, but... but you would tell me you liked having me around. Even if I was useless, you wanted me by your side.” Ford could almost see his brother smile while talking about him. “I didn't get it, and I still don't. I know it's different now, and I promise, I know that you want nothing to do with me, but I... I needed to call you before I'm gone, 'cause... I love you. I love you, and I'm sorry, I'm sorry...”

With his brother openly sobbing on the other side of the line, it shouldn't have surprised Ford to find a tear running down his cheek, but it did. It was a wakeup call, a sign that time was still ticking.

“... I'm sorry, I love you, Sixer, I–”

“Stanley, where are you?”

“... what?”

“Where are you, Stanley, come on.”

“I... why?”

“Just tell me!” The anger was there, but it had definitely shifted. His worry was taking over. If what his brother was saying was true, he had to go get him right now. If he was lying... at least he could go and spit in his face in person. Unfortunately, everything in the last five minutes was telling him it wasn't a lie. “Please, before the call cuts. Tell me.”

“What, you're gonna come pick me up?” Stanley laughed humorlessly, and Ford's mind replayed some moments back in their teen years in which Stan would scoff exactly like that.

“What, you're gonna come sleep in my bed?” That time when they were 12 and Stan had such a panic attack that he would not fall asleep.

“What, you think he's wrong?” That time when they were 14 and a teacher screamed and called Stan everything under the sun for not being able to read a text out loud.

“What, you think I didn't deserve it?” That time when they were 16 and Ford learned for the first time that their father had been hitting Stan since they were little.

All those times, Ford had surprised Stan by telling him the opposite of what we was thinking: yes, I'll sleep in your bed if it helps you stop shaking; yes, I think it's wrong that a teacher insults you because you have trouble reading; no, I don't think you deserve to be beaten up by your father. His brother had been shocked to hear those words every single time, like anyone in their right mind wouldn't say the same thing. Or maybe he was shocked that it was Ford who said them. Either way, he had always reminded Stan that he had his back.

When did that turn into this?

“Do you want me to?”

“...”

“Stan, I'm going. If what you're telling me is true and you really are in danger, I'm going.”

“...”

“Stanley, don't fall asleep!”

“'m not...” Stanley's voice was tired, too tired. Ford wasn't sure who would give up first, him or the phone. “Six', I... 'm already dead. It's not worth it. I'm not worth it, and y'know it. Deep down.”

Ford closed his eyes tightly. This self-loathing wasn't new, but it was terrible timing. His brother would shut down whenever he was like this and he wouldn't speak another word on the topic. He couldn't afford that. He needed to make him talk.

“Stan.”

“Yeah.”

“You said you love me, right?”

“...”

“Stan.”

“... more than anything, Six.”

“Then if this is our last talk, please, tell me. Where are you?

“'m... in New Mexico.”

“Okay, New Mexico, good. I need you to be more specific. Albuquerque? Santa Fe? Las Cruces?”

“I don't... I can't remember...”

“Stanley, you have to. Where was the last place you went to?”

“I... was on the run. From Mexico.”

“Mexico and New Mexico are not–” Seriously Stanford? Is this the time for a lecture? “Listen, are you positive you are in the US?”

“Yeah, 'm sure.”

“Alright, so if we've established that, I need you to focus, okay? What city is closer to you?”

“I don't know, I don't know Ford.” Stan's voice was getting increasingly weaker, and now the panic was seeping through.

“Okay, Stan, listen to me.” Stanford's mind was screaming at him to comfort his brother now; he could hear Stanley's breath getting faster, and his voice was getting higher. He was seconds away from a paralyzing panic attack, and he knew for a fact that a 'calm down' would not work on him. He just had to get him to talk, answer his questions, and nothing else. “How much does your payphone charge per minute?”

“Uhh... 15 cents.”

“How much did you put in?”

“I don't know, I think... like four bucks?”

“Okay, good, we have some time.” They did not have time. “After you left Mexico, do you recall the name of any city?”

“Some... they were mostly in Spanish.”

“Okay, good. You were good at languages, I bet you know what they meant. Which ones do you remember? What did they mean?”

“El Paso. The Step… Oscuro. Dark... Corona. Crown... Estancia. Stay.”

“Alright, and the one you're in right now, is it in Spanish?”

“No, this... I stopped here... because I knew the name.”

“What name was it?”

“It's... from a book. I book you read to me.”

“What book?”

“I thought... it was funny. And I stayed here. Before the car broke down.”

“Stan, what book was it?”

“Ford...”

“Tell me the book, come on.”

“I... I can't see.”

“Stan, just tell me the book, or the name, anything! Please, just anything!”

“It's... fine. I'm sorry, Ford.”

“Wait, Stan!”

On the other side of the line, a loud thud was heard against the pavement. Ford shouted his brother's name urging him to stand up, to wake up, to please say something. It only lasted a minute, though, until the signal went dead.

[moonsglare]

convenience, part 1 || tsukishiro yanagi x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

Your heat, rather inconveniently, comes a whole two days early in the middle of your shift at your job. Your boss drops you off at a heat clinic, and you manage to get paired with who you think might just be the most perfect alpha in all of New Eridu.

cw. omegaverse, alpha yanagi, omega reader, all the usual omv stuff like knotting & breeding

notes. wrote this in a haze of horny delirium for tsukishiro yanagi. yes there will be a part 2 at some point because i will most certainly slip and slide back into horny delirium for tsukishiro yanagi one of these days

Heat clinic.

Such a nice, polite word for what’s essentially a fuck-centre.

Yes, you know in reality it’s just another facet of reproductive healthcare services, and there’s nothing really intimate about it—if the dozens of screenings, tests, and legal documents were anything to go by—but the concept itself is still a little funny. The idea that something so inherently primal could just be dressed up in some clinical wording and a facade with the aesthetic of a dentist’s office and suddenly be completely socially acceptable.

A foggy part of your brain is trying to do the same right now and draft up some polite excuse as to why you had to leave work early today, but with the way Yanagi’s cock is literally rearranging your insides, it’s an effort in futility.

You almost melt against the sheets with another low, drawn out moan feeling her all the way in your damn stomach. You barely even remember how you got here; your heat, the damn unpredictable thing it is, had hit early while you were still on your shift. Staying in the store would’ve been a terrible idea, what with it almost being rush hour, and so your poor boss—a beta man, thankfully—had sped you on over to the nearest heat clinic in Lumina Square. And you had writhed and squirmed on the bed that had too many too sterile pillows for God knows how long until they finally managed to send an alpha in to help you. She’d smelled of fresh laundry and warm bread and by that point there really wasn’t much else you wanted to think about besides getting her scent all over you immediately.

“Yanagi,” you whine, wiggling your hips petulantly at her slow, controlled pace. It’s strange, how well her name fits on her tongue despite you only learning it a few—minutes? hours? you don’t even know, honestly—ago. The alpha behind you croons low in her throat, leaning down to brush the bare, sweat-damp skin of your shoulder with her nose. But instead of that skin-to-skin you expect, you get smooth leather instead, and you remember that this is a damn heat clinic, and all heat clinic alphas have to wear a Mask.

It’s a safety precaution, and a sensible one at that; having an omega be accidentally marked during what should just be a transactional encounter would be horrifying for both the alpha and omega, and a world of legal pain for the clinic. Hence the invention of the Mask—a generally non-invasive little leather contraption that covers the alpha’s mouth completely, with well placed openings to still allow for easy breathing and speech. You’re normally more grateful for its existence in keeping omegas such as yourself safe, but right now it may as well have been invented by the devil.

“Breathe,” Yanagi reminds you, her voice ever so soft in a way you’ve never heard an alpha be before. Your previous heat partners, while still somewhat gentle—you’d specified as such in your documentation—still tended to have that typical alpha-ness to them. Demanding and commanding, eager to take and wring as many orgasms from you as they can manage. Which is, of course, exactly what you need, deep in the throes of heat as you are, but it leaves you with a rather heavy mental weight after that takes a while to lift. But Yanagi is calm, measured, and careful, even as she sinks balls deep into you, knot bumping the stubborn ring of your entrance. It makes your basest omega instinct preen with satisfaction at being so tenderly cared for, that you find yourself thinking, quite stupidly, that you could get used to this—to Yanagi.

She coaxes you out of that little reverie with the brush of her thumb against your clit. You jolt, startled but pleased, rocking forward slightly onto the sheets ruined with your slick. Yanagi follows with a roll of her hips, bumping the head of her wonderful cock against that spongy collection of nerves and drawing another warbling cry of her name from your lips. She moves with such patient elegance and finesse that you’d think she wasn’t in rut and had to find refuge in the nearest heat clinic like you. Or, rut clinic, in her case. This particular branch in Lumina Square did both, and what a blessing that turned out to be.

“Yanagi, faster,” you urge, whiny and out of your mind with lust, looking over your shoulder at her. Soft pink eyes meet your own, and her pupils blow just a little wider. You hear her breathe in deep through her mouth, the sound amplified by the Mask, and a primal giddiness runs down your spine. You know what she’s doing; inhaling your scent and letting it coat the inside of her mouth, her throat, and letting it fan the flames of her own lust. She relents with the quietest growl you’ve heard from an alpha, drawing her hands back to rest them on your hips, palms flat against your skin.

And then she’s snapping her hips forward, fucking you, and you’re completely and utterly gone. Your head drops, cheek against the mattress as your arms give out under you, and you melt against the sheets into a delicate arch that has Yanagi twitching inside you. Your brain drips out of your pussy around her cock, not a damn thought in your mind beyond the steady, rhythmic drives of her railing you senseless. You can feel her knot swelling, bumping against the lips of your cunt and it only makes you squeeze tighter around her.

Yanagi pants behind you, nails digging more into the meat of your hips. The scent of her floods your senses, and she almost smells like home were it not for the underlying, extremely faint but still somewhat noticeable scent of ozone and iron. She’s testing the waters with her knot, seeing how much you’re ready to give by pushing it forward ever so slightly then drawing back. It makes your fingers curl in the sheets, more needy whines falling from your lips as you beg her to stuff you full. Yanagi shudders at that, leaning down to—or attempting to—nose the dip of your spine between your shoulder blades.

“I’m going to knot you,” she promises gently, and you mewl in anticipation. “Be sweet for me, okay? Breathe, and relax. You’re doing so well, good girl.”

Holy fuck.

“Likes to be praised” was not an option even given to you on the forms, but somehow, either by luck or intuition, Yanagi had struck absolute gold. You nearly cum then and there at the praise, moaning unashamedly as your cunt clenches like a vise around her cock. Yanagi makes a small, choked noise in the back of her throat, clawing at your hips to steady herself again. It takes her a moment and several calming breaths before she can resume her slow press into you and you bite the sheets to make up for the fact you can’t sink your teeth into her shoulder instead.

Yanagi is already big, deliciously so, but her knot is certainly something else. You’re suddenly grateful for the generous amount of lube that was provided in the room and that Yanagi had the sense to use before she stuffed you full of her cock. It makes the stretch of her controlled slide into you far more bearable—not that you would’ve given up even if it wasn’t. Heat crazed as you are, you’re sure you’d find a way. Thankfully, Yanagi’s foresight made such extremes unnecessary, and she nuzzles soothingly at your neck, by your scent gland as she inches deeper and deeper, stretching you more and more until her knot slips fully inside you with a wet pop.

Your eyes roll back into your head and you cum with a loud cry, inner walls spasming and fluttering around her thick length. You almost feel like you might pass out, utterly light headed, cumming not in spite of the stretch but because of it. Fuck, Yanagi might just have ruined you for any other alpha. You feel your slick spray out and coat your thighs despite the knot buried inside you, and you make a noise between a moan and a sob as your orgasm rips through you viciously. Yanagi rocks and grunts behind you, riding that knife’s edge of stimulation until she’s tipping off of it herself, releasing your hips in favor of bracing herself over you, palms bracketing your head as she spills into you with a stifled, drawn out groan. You feel her throb inside you, pulsing with each jet of cum she deposits into your eager cunt. You can’t help but preen at the sensation of being filled so thoroughly, which Yanagi returns with a low, soothing croon.

She makes sure to lie on her side to recover, deceptively strong yet slim arms holding you close. It’s a welcome reprieve from the many alphas who would simply flop on top of you and crush you into the mattress, and you make a pleased noise, your brain buzzing with happy, satiated chemicals. Her cosy scent just makes you relax further, sweet honey on fresh toast, like home, and you find your eyelids drooping. Yanagi notices, and a lilting, melodic laugh resonates through the Mask.

“Rest,” she says gently, a hand caressing your side, “you did well.”

You have some time to kill anyway, knotted together as you both are. So you take her suggestion, and drift off into a satisfied slumber. What happens next is for your heat-free brain to deal with, but you’re certain of at least one thing: you’re not spending your next heat with anyone other than her.

When you wake, you wake woefully bereft.

Your thighs are parted, and you hiss when something wet and cold touches your skin. You blink open your eyes blearily, and find Yanagi looking down at you from where she kneels by your side, running a washcloth along your inner thigh. Her Mask is off, set on the bedside table now that both of you are somewhat stable enough to head back home and weather the rest of your respective heat and ruts privately. Her lips are curved into a small, glossy smile, and a pair of red-rimmed glasses rest delicately on the bridge of her nose.

“Did you rest well?” she asks, smoothing the washcloth down your other thigh. “I hope you don’t mind that I took some initiative. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or sticky when waking up.”

It takes you a while to find your voice, but when you do find it, it’s utterly wrecked. Yanagi flushes slightly at the sound when you speak, looking ridiculously cute for someone who just gave you the most intense orgasm of your life.

“Yes to the first, no to the second,” you answer, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Yanagi’s smile broadens, and she shakes her head lightly. “I should be thanking you—my rut hit early out of nowhere, and if you weren’t willing…”

“I could say the same for you,” you rasp wryly, watching as she diligently cleans you. She takes care not to give too much stimulation to your sensitive sex, but makes sure to clean up the remaining drops of her cum that still leak from you. “I guess we both got lucky.”

“Quite,” Yanagi agrees, and you see her throat bob as she tries not to focus on the way her seed drips out of your cunt. “In any case, you were… very helpful. Thank you.”

You manage a dry chuckle at that. What a polite alpha. “You weren’t too bad yourself.”

The flush on her cheeks deepens ever so slightly, and she ducks her gaze away from yours, almost bashful. She sets the cloth down on a disposal bin on the bedside table, then turns to grab something further down the bed. A surprised noise leaves your lips when you see what it is: your clothing, all neatly folded. And if your nose is telling you the truth—

“I… took the liberty to scent your shirt,” she admits, still not meeting your eyes. “Just to tide you over until you make it home. It should deter any other alphas from trying anything.”

You swallow, throat suddenly dry. You wonder if you’re dreaming—do alphas this nice really exist? You’ve met your fair share of decent alphas, but they all have that typical alpha arrogance about them. If she hadn’t just knotted you, you might have thought she was an omega with how tender she’s being, and you find yourself thinking for the second time today how you could get so used to this.

“Thank you,” you say eventually. Yanagi nods, relieved, then rises from the bed. She’s already clothed; although, she didn’t take much of her clothes off while fucking you in the first place, just popping a few buttons of her shirt and hiking her skirt up enough to get it out of the way after ditching her corset. She fixes the tassels of her tie, ready to head out the door, and the words blurt out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Do you want to do this again?”

Your jaw clicks shut as soon as Yanagi stills, turning to face you with a puzzled look on her face. She blinks, brows furrowing as she considers your words. “This… again?”

“There’s an option for, uh— scheduled sessions between an alpha and an omega, if they choose,” you explain, trying not to sound as nervous as you feel. “It saves on hoping for another presentation to be available when your heat or rut rolls around.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Yanagi hums, eyes drifting to the side as she takes a moment to consider.

“It’d be convenient,” you continue, unable to help yourself from pressing a little more. If you sound desperate, you can’t be bothered to be ashamed. You’d rather lose your dignity than this damn perfect alpha before you. “And you’re someone who likes convenience and routine, right?”

Yanagi raises a brow. “How did you figure that?”

“Well,” you shrug, attempting nonchalance, “I suppose it was a lucky guess. How did you know I liked being praised?”

Yanagi turns beet red at that, a palm shooting up to cover half her face. Even her ears are a delicate blush colour. “It just… felt right,” she mumbles, her home-like scent thick with embarrassment. You chuckle softly at that.

“See? I think this could be mutually beneficial, Yanagi. What do you say?”

The time it takes her to think feels like it stretches on forever. You can almost see the gears on her head turning, analysing, as if weighing the costs and benefits over every last detail of your proposal. Those pink eyes gleam with an intensity you can’t help but feel drawn to in a way you’ve never felt before with any alpha. Eventually, she turns back to you with a small, polite smile.

“We could give it a shot.”

You grin, feeling relief flood your system so strongly you nearly fall back onto the bed. “Sounds great. I’ll see you next month, then?”

“Next month,” Yanagi returns, and then she slips out the door with the click of heels on cold tile. You flop back onto the pillows when the door closes, unable to stifle a giddy, girlish laugh from spilling from your lips.

God, for once in your life, you can’t wait for your next heat.

[sourcherrybites]

Legally Binding Affairs

Character: Jason Todd x DA! Reader

Disclaimers: My knowledge of the US legal system is based on Law and Order, Criminal Minds and Legal Eagle. I wrote more words than I usually do so the end is kinda sloppy, my apologies babes

Word count: 1.181

➜ Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2

Masterlist

Jason hates you; he despises your very existence because you make his job miserable and eight times more complicated than it should be. Ever since you got to Gotham, you have caused anything but trouble for him, his family, his business AND his crime-fighting activities.

It all started when that dumb fuck of New Jersey's governor announced that to fight the overwhelming crime rate in Gotham they would appoint a brand new DA, the starlight, the ace, the beloved child of the country's justice system; you. A prodigy since law school, with a 98% conviction rate, not reaching 100% because not even you could fight the unfairness when prosecuting rich folks or false allegations.

There you were, standing next to the Governor on TV with a serene look on your kind features, and a body language that said nothing could disturb your peace, a suit tailored to your shape, clean and ironed until perfection, fixed and organised hair and a straight pose. You. Were. Perfection. And maybe that's why they sent you off to Gotham —you were just too good. (suspiciously good)

You made it your goal to turn the Gotham court system into your personal renovation project, From the very moment you stepped out of that courthouse, determination etched on your face, the whole City watched as you won case after case. Your conviction remained unshaken, even in the pervasive corruption that seemed woven into the very fabric of the city. Nothing could stop you —not even the countless attempts to end you. In fact, you managed to reduce Gotham's crime rate by a staggering 1% in just two months—an achievement that was basically historical. (and again, suspicious)

You were stubborn and couldn't mind your own business, and Jason didn't really care; at the end of the day, you became a small spark of hope for Gothamites — that until you threw one of his guys behind bars, then it became personal.

Were you just that stupid that you couldn't grasp the danger you put yourself into by going after high-profile criminals? He was sure that every Rouge in Gotham had a bounty on your head, and you didn't care! You just didn't care! Like you were some sort of masochist, suicidal maniac! But he would make you care, on God, he would; one, because no one wanted the new favourite child of the city becoming another Harvey Dent, and two, he was just absolutely tired of you messing up his stuff.

Drug operations were busted, fights for keeping territories were more common, and the attempts to get the most clients by dealers became more desperate, selling harder and harsher drugs. You were just messing it all up! You just had to stop before you got everyone killed.

"Pretty nice home you got here. The federal government pays well, it seems." His modulated voice echoed through the emptiness of your apartment, it wasn't expensive, you weren't one of the luxurious lifestyles because you just couldn't afford it, but it was neat and well taken care of, the most expensive thing you had was your Computer on your desk, a long, caramel coloured structure next to the window looking at the city.

"Should I add trespassing to your file, Mr. Red Hood?" You asked calmly, in the same calm voice you used when talking to the defence attorneys. He was sitting on your couch, manspreading on your couch, one hand on the back of it to keep up the relaxed posture and the other on the gun that sat comfortably against his left thigh. "Funny little one." He let out a smug chuckle, an edge of annoyance in his voice that couldn't be hidden by the modulator. He stood up, the thud of his boots loud as he approached slowly, probably trying to make you feel smaller, which it did because he was the size of a double refrigerator, but you were, by far, more worried about the files hidden under your couch, in the special plastic pocket in which it usually is the information about the furnishing, him finding that made you nervous.

"Should I offer you a glass of water, sir?" You asked with faked courtesy, barely holding back the subtle shake of your voice, to which he chuckled again. "Thank you, doll, but I have other things to talk with you." He said, clenching and unclenching his fists.

He took another few steps, "You're tense. Are you scared?" Yes, absolutely terrified, about to pee in your expensive suit pants that you wore only once every millennium. You wanted to jump out the window before spending half a second longer with that beast. "Somethin' to hide?" He inquired again. You shook your head, keeping your eyes locked into the whites of his mask. And then you looked back at the couch, a little too low.

Shit.

Both of you pounced at the same time, struggling for two different reasons, you were doing your best to keep him from reaching the files and him barely struggling to keep you away with only one arm. You kicked, pulled, pushed, and clawed at him to keep him from flipping the couch. Meanwhile, he barely did some force to keep you away with the arm which was holding the gun.

He reached one of the files from under the couch, and you yanked his hand away, twisting his elbow at a painful angle and making all the pages fall and scatter around the floor. "You little sh-" He wanted to growl, looking over the mess on the floor until his eyes met the deep blue ones of a picture. Bruce's picture. He violently pushed you away, making you hit the floor with a thump and kicking the air out of you whilst he read the notes, and every page he read made him panic more. Somehow you had noticed things no one else picked on, his pattern of picking up children just at the same time as a new robin hit the streets, analysis on his posture, his voice, coincidences and discrepancies you had found. You had figured The Batman out.

He grabbed another file, the one labelled Grayson, the same story. Drake. Damian. Gordon. Brown. Sionis. Todd. There was no point in keeping the helmet on now so he just took it off and threw it somewhere else in your living room as he flipped on his file. You knew who he was, you knew who his family were and for the first time since he knew about you, he panicked.

"How did you get this....?" He muttered, barely above a whisper, his shaky hand pointing the gun at your face. "Did you show this to anyone else?" His grip on the barrel tightened, his index pressing against the trigger as he snarled. You coughed, placing a hand on your chest. "Lower your gun... and I tell you..." you managed to gasp, sitting up against the wall. "Let's just... talk... Mr. Todd... and I promise I'll explain everything." And that was it, He just needed to hear you out.

But would he?

©sourcherrybites 2025