#Did he ate the little croc:(
Text
Their reaction to you sucking on a popsicle
Zoro took a break from training because robin and chopper were distributing popsicles.
He thought it was the perfect time to sit at the counter with you. Was he right? Was he wrong?
He watched you insert the tip of the popsicle into your mouth. Subconsciously, you began to suck on it softly.
You removed it from your mouth with a loud pop. He stared at your shiny red lips, stained with the popsicle.
he held his blueberry flavored treat, in one hand while staring at you. He was sweating trying to suppress the thoughts rushing through his head. You seen him grit his teeth and you saw his forehead veins popping out.
His eye began to twitch too.
The blue liquid dripped off of the popsicle and onto his lap, as he was neglecting his gifted treat, it began to melt. He didn’t even have a taste of his yet.
“DO YOU HAVE TO SUCK ON THE POPSICLE LIKE THAT?” He slammed his hand on the counter, causing the popsicle to slide off the stick and onto his lap.
The crew turned towards him, getting suspicious of what was going on over there. They know you guys are together so it didn’t take much to put two and two together.
You took a chunk of the blue popsicle off his lap and ate it. You continued to scroll on your phone.
That man was jealous okay 🥲.
Law
You distributed popsicles to everyone because it was pretty hot. You sat on the sofa next to Law.
He had a grape flavored popsicles and you had cherry. He began to his gracefully because it was good and it was from you.
He heard violent slurping coming from your side of the sofa so he started side-eyeing you. But it wasn’t a mean side eye, he was smirking.
By now, your lips and tongue were stained with the red sweetness. Law doesn’t know if he wants to kiss you or keep watching.
“Damn pretty mama.” He said smirking even more.
You stared at him in shock, realizing he was watching you the whole time.
Okay y’all hear me out… what if he said room and swapped with the popsicle.
Luffy
You and luffy both had cherry flavored popsicles. Luffy ate all his in one bite after a few licks.
He turned to you to ask if he could get a lick of yours. But he was to mesmerized watching you suck on the popsicle.
He knew your lips were stained red and taste like cherry now. He smiled from ear to ear.
It made you smile too. Little did you know he was about to say the most embarrassing shit ever.
“Hey Y/N! That reminds me when are we gonna fuck again? That was fun!” He said smiling.
The whole crew turned their heads to face you and luffy. You punched him right in the head. Nami took chopper and left because poor innocent chopper.
Crocodile
Croc won’t have a popsicle. However you do and you’re sitting on his thigh while enjoying the sweet treat.
He watched you silently before chuckling.
“Eager aren’t we sweet girl?” Then he laughed again.
Your face heat up in embarrassment.
Doflamingo
You were enjoying the cold treat snd you sat next to Doffy on the sofa.
“Don’t get that on my carpet.” He said kicking back. You discreetly rolled your eyes because you don’t pay him any mind.
Your tongue were swirling around on the popsicle and your lips and tongue were stained bright red.
He watched you. It should feel illegal the way he was thinking but of course it didn’t. He let out a grunt and licked his own lips.
“What a tease.” said hawk eyeing you.
#one piece#black reader#monkey d. luffy#luffy x reader#luffy x y/n#one piece x reader#sir crocodile#straw hat luffy#trafalgar law#trafalgardwaterlaw#one piece smut#onr piece doflamingo#donquixote doflamingo#zoro smut#zoro roronoa x you#one piece crocodile#one piece sanji
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
When they insult you(Kenma and Oikawa)
A/N this blog is so weird- It’s like 400 styles in one.
Genre: Angst (it’s not SUPER bad- I can write a part two as comfort if y’all would like that)
Warnings: Insults obvi, pregnant reader(oikawa)
Part two
(not having a job)
Being with Kenma is wonderful. He never looks at other girls, fights you, and always is there to support and love you, so of course you did the same.
You’ve been dating him since high-school so you were there for him through his volleyball days all the way to his billionaire status. Naturally, you both loved and were there for each other unconditionally, so it was no surprise when he got down on one knee and proposed.
Currently the two of you were in the process of wedding planning which was super fun, but stressful as hell.
Kenma made enough money from streaming and his business and he loved to stream. So he was still working when he really didn’t need to.
You’d quit your job to focus on the planning and all had been going well.
Now the week was two months away and all you had left was the finishing touches.
All of the major stuff was done, and now all you had to do was plan the little things. Little things that would’ve been really helpful to have your fiancé's input on, so you opened his door slowly to see if he was streaming, which he was, but he was in the middle of a break.
“Hey baby,” you smiled, walking over to sit on his lap, “are you busy right now?”
You couldn’t tell when you walked in, but he seemed pissed off.
“I’ve been streaming for four hours. All I want is a break, what do you want?” He responded harshly.
“Just turn off the stream, I wanna talk about wedding stuff,” you bargained.
“One of us has to work, Y/N. I know it’s fun to just lounge around on the couch and pick flowers but I have a real job. A job I need to support you and this lavish wedding you want.”
After hearing this, you simply got up and left the room. If that was truly how he felt, so be it. There didn’t have to be a wedding after all.
Going into a guest room and slamming the door, you instantly started applying for jobs. Kenma knew you were waiting until you finished college to get a job again, and that he’d support you through getting your masters degree. But clearly, that was a lie.
And you wouldn’t force him to support you any longer.
(Not dressing up)
You were 20 weeks pregnant. Finally at the point where it didn’t just look like you ate a lot. It looked like you were growing a baby. This also meant that it was getting harder to find an outfit that wasn’t just a shirt that was streched out too much, or an ugly maternity dress that made you look even fatter than you felt. Thankfully, Oikawa was there for you ever step of the way. Buying you new things to try on, encouraging you, and telling you how beautiful you looked. But his views changed one day.
Now you and your husband, Oikawa, were walking around the grocery store. Just buying food for the week when one of his old classmates came up to him.
She was pregnant too, and shopping for groceries with her husband. The only difference was she was absolutely glowing. Her bump fit her nicely, and the dress she was wearing looked amazing on her. It gave her a very cheery vibe.
Since you didn’t go to Aoba Johsai, you didn’t know them. So, you just smiled and looked at the food intently, as if you didn’t know what you were going to grab.
After a while they left and Oikawa’s mood seemed to have worsened.
“What’s wrong babe?” You asked, trying your best to keep up with the speed that he walked to the cash register, “and we’re missing a few things.”
“Why can’t you look more like Nami? She’s 24 weeks and she still dresses nicely,” He complained, gesturing towards your Crocs, T-shirt, and sweatpants.
“I’ve tried, nothing you good on me,” you were about to cry. You didn’t know if it was pregnancy hormones or if it was the fact that your husband was berating you in public. It was a good thing the cashier had her airpods in and the store was fairly empty.
“Well maybe you should stay home then. It’s embarrassing when my friends’ wives look better than my own,” he grumbled, picking up the pancake mix and syrup you put in the basket, “seriously? Are you trying to look like a whale?”
Instead of explaining how HIS child was craving it, you simply put it back on the shelf and was silent the entire way home.
That night, after putting everything up and showering you rolled on your side of the bed alone. When he wrapped his arms around your bump as he did every night, you pushed him off. Ignoring him when he tried to apologize and reason with you.
The next day when he apologized, bought you new clothes, jewelry, and the food you wanted you still didn’t talk to him.
It’d take a lot more than bribery for you to forgive his actions.
THIS BELONGS TO CARLEY-CHAN 2023 DO NOT REWORK/REWRITE!!
reblogs and likes appreciated <3
#haikyuu#oikawa#kenma#kenma x reader#oikawa x reader#haikyuu angst#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu scenarios#hq oikawa#hq kenma#Dad oikawa#domestic haikyuu
981 notes
·
View notes
Text
I am back! And with the beginnings of some answers to the mysteries, though sadly not the full John Constantine lowdown! But I will make it up to you all with some Harley shenanigans!
There just wasn’t enough space to get them both in and of course Harley comes first, I stan a queen (Quinn)
We’re gonna take a much closer look in Brucie’s head this time too as he gets a bunch of new information and maybe some new trauma, so this chapter and the next will be a lil Bruce heavy
(Jason is thrilled, believe me)
First Chapter:
Previous Chapter:
———————
Yeah This Might As Well Happen
Jason really wished he could just focus on having a good time with his family. The food was, as always, exquisite, and Sam and Tucker were moaning happily along with the others.
It smelled great. It looked great. It tasted great, but something in the back of Jason’s head just wouldn’t switch off.
Not until Danny came back.
Even the thought that Danny might be in danger while he just ate dinner sat like a lead weight in his stomach.
The expanded aura… well. It kind of helped? Being practically choked by Danny’s presence, aware in every pore of his skin that Danny was there, was fine, wasn’t hurting, did help.
It just. Made it impossible to really think about anything else.
He was barely following the conversation, just reading the intricacies of Danny’s mood changes and losing track of sentences as people said them.
Finally, finally, Danny’s aura shifted again.
Done-got him-no big deal-coming back.
Jason almost sagged in his seat, shoulders unknotting marginally (they probably wouldn’t finish until he could see Danny and prove he was fine).
Sent impatient-relieved-happy-hurry back as well as he could, and nearly dropped his fork at the warm swell of affection he received in return.
Well.
Affection-amused-teasing.
Clearing his throat, Jason did his best to will away the heat along the back of his neck. Nope, he wasn’t gonna blush when Danny wasn’t even here to look at him while smothering him in those feelings.
And it was definitely just the pit curling up into a little buzzing ball of happiness in his chest. Definitely not actually Jason melting like snow under a blow torch.
Whatever.
Danny was fine, he’d be back soon and Alfred had saved them both plates. And sure, maybe something in Jason wouldn’t unclench until he could see Danny in person, but letting Alfred’s cooking go cold was a sin.
He dug into his still steaming plate, forcing his shoulders to relax a little. Tucker and Tim were still talking about tech, currently disparaging what the GIW thought were elite security measures.
Harley had lured Sam, Duke, and Cass into a discussion of her new place in Coney Island at the other end of the table, and yeah, Jason could get interested in that.
Someone might have already asked, but hey. He waited for a convenient pause and leaned in.
“Didn’t Croc move down there with you? He and Riddler attacked the gala last night,” he explained when Harley made a curious noise, head cocking to one side.
Her brow furrowed, so apparently the others hadn’t gotten this far yet. Not sure if he was glad or gonna tease them mercilessly later.
“He what? Yeah, he moved in, but he came back this way ta keep me company as I came up here. Someone’s tryin’ ta give me a hard time cuzza my criminal record, an’ they’re gettin’ intel from one of your local problems,” she added with a shrug, waving her hand.
Cuz yeah, that was also on the list; she’d been up with Ivy, neither of them noticeably causing trouble before apparently Ida Manson got them out of town.
Cass made a small noise of concern and Harley patted her hand, grinning.
“Oh, don’t you worry about me doll, it’s all under control. Thought it might be Pengy havin’ another go at my spot but he burst into tears when I walked in so it’s prob’ly not him,” she said with a very self satisfied smile.
Jason chuckled softly because… yeah, he could picture that. It tracked.
“Smart man,” Duke agreed with a snicker and Harley gave him a fist bump.
“Yeah, I’ll run ‘em down. But why was Waylon at the gala? He jus’ said he was gonna look inta some shit while I was gone,” Harley asked, looking around the table for an answer.
Jason shrugged.
“All their demands were for Harvey Dent. Apparently he was planning to make a run and they beat him to the punch,” he explained, in as much as he understood.
If no one else had a hand on Dent by tonight, he miiiight stretch one of his Red Hood patrols out of Crime Alley to go for a look see.
The man missed his party. The least Jason could do was pay a personal visit.
“Croc mentioned Jason,” Cass noted with a small frown, looking up at him with concern.
And, yeah, that was the other reason he was thinking of getting involved. He couldn’t imagine what the fuck he’d done as a civvie to annoy Dent.
Harley huffed, blowing blonde bangs off her face and lacing her fingers, pointing at Jason.
“Okay, so we gotta go talk to Waylon tomorrow and find out what’s goin’ on. He’s comin’ with me back to Coney when the time comes so he ain’t got time for Arkham,” she said firmly, and something settled in Jason’s gut.
Waylon had so badly wanted the Red Hood not to turn out like he had; another criminal permanently trapped in the system. Yeah, he’d like to return the favour.
Of course, not everyone in the room was up on all the secrets. Sam leaned forward, breaking her quiet streak that as far as Jason knew was her longest ever.
“Wait, you’re going to break that guy out of jail? He wanted to strap a bomb vest to Jason,” she said harshly, finally snapping Tim and Tucker out of their little happy world.
Jason raised both hands.
“He didn’t succeed.” Much as Danny had freaked out about it, Jason wasn’t gonna complain about things that hadn’t happened.
Too much like it actually happened every day, he’d never be done.
Oh. Maybe that was kinda why Danny had freaked out. That probably wasn’t good.
His personal revelation was dampened by Harley waving a hand easily.
“Nah nah nah, we’re not gonna break ‘im out tomorra. He’s gonna tell us what the fuck he was thinkin’, I’m gonna break Dent’s kneecaps, and Batsy’s gonna give a character statement an’ get ‘im released ta me for community service.”
And if any of that didn’t work, they could still just break Croc out the next day. Jason knew the unspoken corollary.
Tucker’s eyebrows raised and he said the very stupidest thing that Jason had ever heard from a genius, and he’d seen Tim on 72 hours of no sleep.
“You know Batman?” He asked incredulously.
Harley stared at him for a long moment. Then snickered.
“Yeah, we know each other from work,” she said dryly, waving her fork, “we go way back.”
The assorted bats snickered to themselves and Tucker sunk back in his chair a little, grinning sheepishly around the table.
“Yeah… sorry.”
Sam rolled her eyes, arms folded as she frowned down the table. She clearly had a bigger question, which was probably fair for anyone who didn’t know the combined Harley-and-bats history.
“And you think Batman will do you a favour? He’s not exactly known to listen to reason,” she pointed out half sarcastically. Not that anyone in the room would argue.
There was a reason Jason loved her.
Harley weighed her up for a moment, then grinned, leaning forward.
“Y’know, kid, I don’t think we were introduced. There’s somethin’ real familiar about you,” she mused, folding her arms on the table and leaning over them, plate slowly nudged aside.
Sam smirked and shrugged. They were meeting a lot of new people these past couple days, but if she’d been doing the gala circuit her whole life?
Yeah, this probably wasn’t the worst. Harley was better than Jason had ever met at a party.
“Sam Manson. Friend of Jason’s through Danny,” she added with a nod to the empty seat still between her and Jason.
Harley beamed, hiking forward onto the table a little more.
“Oh, you’d be Ida’s granddaughter then?” She asked brightly, clearly pleased to have been right. “Your granny’s a real doll, sent me and Ivy on a real sweet vacation this week.”
Sam chuckled softly and nodded, giving Harley a half apologetic half cocky smile.
“Yeah, that’d be my fault. I’m not allowed to come to Gotham if there’s a chance Poison Ivy is in town,” she explained, fingers on her left hand tapping against her right arm.
Both of Harley’s brows went up.
“Oh? Are they scared somethin’ might happen to ya?” She asked, tone already very firmly suggesting she knew the answer.
So did most of the rest of the table, though Duke hadn’t actually heard the explanation last night. Not like he needed to, having met Sam for more than five minutes.
Sam didn’t disappoint. She gave another elegant half shrug, her smile turning fully dark.
“Oh, more the opposite. They think I’ll run off and join her if I see her,” she said innocently. Across the table, Tucker snorted most of a laugh.
A moment later Harley joined him, tossing her head back and laughing.
“Yeah, that sounds like Ida’s girl,” she agreed, wiping a dainty tear from her eye, “she was a real spitfire in her younger days, the stories she told Ivy when they were protestin’ together were wild.”
Sam was practically glowing with pride, and Jason had to admit that he would kinda like to meet her grandmother. He’d met her parents, and… well, maybe awesome skipped a generation.
Harley suddenly stopped, head cocking as she noticed something, a sly smile creeping across her face.
“So if they think you’ll run away with Ivy… whadda they think’ll happen if ya run into me?” She asked with a delicately studied innocence, examining her nails.
“Only good things,” Cass offered, grinning past Jason at Sam. Sam grinned back, giving Harley a shrug and a similarly innocent smile.
“Y’know, they’ve just never mentioned it. Clearly there’s no concerns there,” she agreed, and Jason snickered, raising his glass in a toast.
“None here,” he noted and Sam laughed, clinking her glass against his. Dick raised a hand, fighting a laugh.
“One concern for the integrity of Bruce’s skull?” He offered innocently, and laughed when Jason threw a napkin at him.
“If Bruce’s skull was gonna break it’d have done it years ago,” Steph opined as the voice of experience. Jason raised his glass to her too, but she was a little far to clink.
She grabbed hers up and raised it back anyway, and Sam filled the gap, clinking hers to Jason’s and then to Steph’s to pass it on.
“It’s good for him ta get his eggs scrambled,” Harley agreed from the other end of the table, raising her glass too, “and I’m gonna guess you did some percussive maintenance too that I’ll ask about later.”
“Bruce might still have a concussion,” Duke offered, not completely certain where he sat with this kind of joking, but the kid was new.
You had to watch Bruce try and kill himself going out on patrol with more bones broken than whole a couple times before you gave in to his indestructibility.
Shit, maybe he should ask Danny if Bruce was liminal. For all the guy was technically a default human, Jason knew literal aliens with a better grasp on humanity.
And ghosts, now.
Harley gave him a nod anyway and patted his hand.
“I’ll aim low then sugar, don’t you fret. But to answer yer other question, Sam, Batman’s gonna get Waylon out for me cuz he doesn’t want ‘im in Arkham any more ‘n we do. Bats wants us all ta get better, and Waylon does best left alone,” she explained with a shrug.
“Until you leave him unsupervised and he teams up with Riddler?” Tim asked with a slight smile.
Jason shook his head, leaning forward on his arms too.
“He wouldn’t do it for no reason. He asked what I’d done to upset Two Face, but I can’t think of anything.” They didn’t even cross paths often.
Dent had taken Red Hood’s claim on Crime Alley as a given, learned quickly that Jason didn’t give a shit about playing nice, and minded his business.
“You sound like you know him pretty well,” Tucker said with a slight frown, and Jason shrugged.
Yeah, Tucker wasn’t in on the Robin thing yet. Luckily there was an easy answer.
“I grew up in Gotham. You guys keep coming back and you’ll get a feel for most of ‘em too.”
Tucker hesitated for a moment, probably thinking back to Amity and their own ghostly rogues. Then he nodded, settling back to poke at his mostly finished plate.
Tim still didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t know Waylon the way Jason did. They’d never had the chance to talk beyond the usual Robin-and-Rogue.
Jason could prove his point tomorrow. Maybe bring Danny along.
And like the thought summoned him, Jason’s phone buzzed to a text from Danny.
‘DannyP: who tf is Constantine??👀👀🤣’
**
Bruce sucked in a deep breath, eye closing, and forced himself to exhale.
He fucking hated magic.
So. Analysis.
From what he understood of Constantine’s general capabilities, him being difficult to find by malicious forces was not unexpected. That seemed credible.
Did Bruce count as a malicious force?
A stern self inventory, past the part that insisted he’d never wish harm on a teammate on principle, and… yes.
He would never have followed the impulse, would have stomped it down the moment he found the man, but he couldn’t deny the urge to lay hands was there.
He’d even been devising new layers of paperwork to insist the man fill out. With, yes, malice in his heart. Just a little bit of spite.
If that counted into making the man impossible to contact… well, he’d bear it in mind. And talk with Zatanna and Dr Fate and see it they could fine tune those wards a little more.
No matter how angry he was about Amity Park, he didn’t want anything actually harmful to happen to a colleague. Even this colleague. Although if he had to pick one…
No. That wasn’t a helpful train of thought.
Taking another steadying breath, this one slower and more evenly, he glanced down at the car. Danny wouldn’t hear anything while inside, but that wouldn’t stop him opening a door to ask what the hold up was.
Forcing Brucie’s casual tones on was harder than normal, but that was expected.
“I can’t really talk about that right now. Can you come by to visit tonight?” Bruce paused, checking his watch. Coming up on seven. “In an hour or so?”
*
The smile dropped off Constantine’s face as quickly as it had formed. Of fucking course the bat wanted everyone to run around to his fuckin’ schedule.
Raising hell for John all fuckin’ night and all fuckin’ day but when John actually got back to him it was all “oh now’s not a good time”.
His more spiteful side wanted to insist on right now, he was a busy man and he had shit to do that Batman wouldn’t even wanna fuckin’ think about.
Shit, John didn’t like thinking about it.
But it was only an hour, and he could use the damn zeta tubes, and it wasn’t like he’d been planning on fuckin’ sleeping. Why would he do that?
And if it unfucked his communicators, he could use that hour to ask the Superboys what the fuck they were playing at in Alaska.
And then he could sleep, Bat off his ass and conscience clean. Fuck it.
“Yeah, whatever. Wanna tell me what’s got your damn panties in a twist in case there’s shit I need to get ready?”
So of course Bat-tastic said the two worst words Constantine had heard in his life.
“Amity Park.”
Fuck.
**
Bruce didn’t enjoy the sharp little intake of breath, followed by no sass whatsoever. It wasn’t easy to make John Constantine speechless.
No, this was definitely just satisfaction that the man knew the gravity of what he’d done. That whatever reasons he’d had, he knew Bruce would be waiting for a damn good explanation.
That there might be one.
Bruce didn’t like even considering that an ally would have done something so serious just because he didn’t want to deal with it. Even Constantine.
When the man hadn’t spoken almost a minute later, Bruce took pity on him.
“I’ll see you in an hour.”
Constantine managed a weak agreement and he nodded, satisfied at least that the man would still be there. And if he wasn’t, Bruce could work out a way to reach him again.
Someone had obviously found him to tell him Bruce was looking for him. And apparently there were consequences for Constantine too if he tried to avoid him.
He hesitated for a moment before getting back into the car. He’d been planning to ask Danny gently about Amity Park, to try and work out what had happened.
Something light that might make him lower his guard. Then turn the subject to Jason. How precisely Danny was helping him. What he knew of the pits.
They wouldn’t have time for a full interrogation, not even in the tail end of rush hour traffic, but it would be a start.
But did he want to tip his hand now? Before Constantine gave him the truth about Amity Park, when all it would take was a matter of hours?
Danny likely knew that Brucie was a mask, but it might be useful to keep it on just a little longer.
Light subjects only then. From what Dick and Tim had reported, Danny was equally likely to just drop some huge revelation to see what Bruce would do.
Yes.
Perhaps he could bait that tendency by being innocuous.
Bruce slid back into the driver’s seat, giving Danny his best, emptiest smile.
“So sorry about that. Just a business contact I’ve been having trouble tracking down, so I didn’t want to let him slip away again.” Honesty, in case he could tell.
They would need to get a better idea of Danny’s power-set. If Duke couldn’t do it alone, perhaps Tim’s observation skills could help.
Danny barely glanced up from his phone, shooting Bruce a quick grin before returning his attention to the screen.
“Yeah? Didn’t know anything got done over the new year, I’d have thought everyone was too hung over.” It sounded like a joke, a cheerful prod.
Bruce swore internally anyway, because he was right. Clearly he knew more than an average student.
He didn’t let it show, chuckling along good naturedly.
“Oh I’d have much preferred getting this done with before the new year, but some people are a little hard to get hold of,” he explained jovially, starting the car and backing out.
Danny hummed an agreement, not looking up from his phone. A sharp glance (he could always say he was checking the boy was strapped in) did not show him the screen.
When had Danny strapped in? Bruce would swear he hadn’t when he’d sat, but it was there now.
Clearly his apparent absorption was a trick. Intended to remind Bruce of a typical young adult, make him lower his guard.
Danny stifled a laugh just as they were leaving the garage, and Bruce barely resisted another effort to look over. The screen would still be tilted away.
His opponent was a cunning one.
Or he was overreacting. It could be a real innocence, not a calculated one. A young man paying more attention to his phone?
He wouldn’t have thought it sinister if it were Tim, Dick, Duke, any of their friends.
No.
He couldn’t take that chance. Not with Jason. He couldn’t afford to relax his guard.
It was unfair to Danny, unfair to both of them.
He’d lost Jason once by not paying close enough attention, and Bruce would be the very first to admit that he’d never gotten his boy back.
Jason had returned in body, mind, and soul, just like he’d wished and prayed for for so long. But there was a distance now that Bruce had no idea how to bridge.
He’d thought he was on the right path last night, but a constant nagging in his gut told him he was wrong.
Every time he closed his eyes he saw Jason’s shocked, white face when he’d apologised. It was a blessing he’d had enough to keep him from his bed.
He’d been so sure it was the right move. The next step to closing the distance between them. Offering Jason the public apology, the acknowledgement that Bruce had failed him.
But that was why Bruce would face gods and walk backwards into Hell before he let anything else try and take his baby boy from him again.
“Y’know, you could just tell Jason you love him.”
Bruce nearly crashed the car.
Luckily they were at a red light, so his reflexive slamming hit the brake, not the gas, and the car barely lurched.
When he was sure his heart was still beating, he chanced a glance over at Danny.
The boy was half smirking down at his phone, clearly aware of the consternation he’d caused, and looked up when he felt Bruce’s eyes on him.
And shrugged, like it was nothing.
“Dude, you’re brooding so hard there’s basically a black cloud over your head.”
Add mind reading to the list of suspected powers.
Bruce felt his eyes narrowing before rigid control snapped back into place, keeping his expression Brucie-open.
“What do you mean?” He asked, in a tone he knew gave nothing away.
Danny snorted like he’d told a joke.
“Man, I’m just saying. Jason barely thinks you fuckin’ like him, it’d save you both a lot of trouble if you’d just sit him down and tell him how you feel.”
Bruce hesitated for a long moment, staring into deep blue eyes that suddenly seemed as deep and unreadable as the deepest ocean. As old as time.
Then he forced his eyes back to the road as the light turned and cars started moving again.
That. Couldn’t be true. It was an attempt at manipulation.
A predator expertly analysing what he thought was Bruce’s greatest weakness, striking to do as much damage as he could.
Of course Jason knew that Bruce loved him. He must have. He had to.
There was no way this stranger who by all accounts Jason had known for barely a week could know more about Jason’s life than his own father.
**
Danny hummed softly to himself, most of his attention on his phone as he texted back and forth with Jason.
‘DannyP: ur dad is giving me the biggest cop energy rn 😳🚔🚔’
Mostly ignoring just the solid waves of angst emanating from Bruce like miasma. Poor guy was only wrapping himself tighter in his own head for Danny’s interjection.
‘JTodd: Yeah Dickie comes by it honestly.’
That was probably a sign Danny shouldn’t do it again.
‘DannyP: 👀👀 think he’s mad at me’
Danny wasn’t great at following signs. Or sitting quietly, in all honesty.
‘JTodd: No one told you not to fly back.’
‘DannyP: Imma make it worse 😈😈’
Tucking his feet up to the edge of his seat, he slumped down as low as he could, glancing up at Bruce through his bangs.
“Sooooooo, how was lunch with Vlad? You seem to have survived, so I’m gonna guess football didn’t come up much?” He prodded, still half suspecting Masters had been up to something.
Bruce wasn’t overshadowed, didn’t have any of Vladdie’s taint that said it had happened in the past, but Danny wasn’t gonna rule out something new.
And all the clenching the big guy was doing on the wheel and on his jaw looked kinda painful.
‘JTodd: I’ll give a touching speech at your funeral.’
Bruce did finally force himself to relax though, sucking in a breath like he’d forgotten he had to.
Mood. Danny forgot about breathing a fair chunk too. Didn’t always remember to do it at all.
His posture changed too, shifting forcefully back to the more lax, open lines of his public persona, but there wasn’t much point. Danny could still feel his aura locked shut like a steel trap.
Being Batman kinda seemed like it sucked so far, and Bruce hadn’t even been a high school hero. Guess being an adult didn’t really make everything easier after all.
The smile he shot Danny didn’t show any of the inner turmoil though, so kudos there.
“It was great, actually. Your godfather is a very charming man,” he added, and Danny stuck his tongue out.
“Oh we’re so not calling him that. He’s just Vladdie, nothing to do with me at all,” he corrected vehemently, making a face.
Checked his phone.
‘DannyP: ABORT ABORT ABORT MISSION HE LIKES VLAD 😡🤮😱’
Bruce made a curious noise beside him, and Danny huffed. There were some things that would have been simpler if Vlad had just been brain washing him.
“Oh? He speaks very highly of you, Danny. I’m a little surprised you don’t get along.” The big guy was clearly fishing, and Danny would give him something to catch alright.
“Yeah? Cuz all he’s ever said to me was that I’m weak, lazy, unmotivated, and will never amount to anything without him. Oh, and that he wants to kill my dad and marry my mom,” he added as an afterthought.
And watched Bruce from the corner of his eye. He looked honestly surprised, but Danny had already learned not to judge from his face.
He felt surprised too though. Surprised and suspicious.
‘JTodd: He’s a great judge of character.’
Fuck it was hard not to laugh at his just flawless acting when Danny had the cheat sheet into his heart.
They drove in silence for a block, Bruce apparently not sure what to say, and Danny gave him a pat on the elbow.
“Don’t feel bad. I dunno what he’s playing at either, but he’s really, really good at telling people what they want to hear.”
And didn’t that do some interesting things to the guy’s aura. Danny had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing.
No matter what he fucking said, it seemed to be convincing Bruce that he was sketchier and sketchier.
‘DannyP: okay but literally every word i say’s making him more and more suspicious and he didn’t even get whammied this is bs 😔😒💔’
He did kinda regret that one pretty much immediately, a sudden wave of protective anger pulsing through his aura.
Making a face again, he focused on wrapping Jason up in his own, soothing him with gentle reminders safe-safe-i’m fine-not hurting me.
Yeah, there were some fucking Issues with a capital I that Danny deadass just wasn’t gonna touch until Jazz got a look in.
No matter what though, he didn’t fucking like what it told him about Bruce. About Jason’s relationship with Bruce.
Maybe he shoulda brought the Fenton thermos. He usually had one on him, but his suit hadn’t come with pockets you could hide a thermos in.
For all Sam bitched about her dress, she coulda carried a rocket launcher and no one would have known.
He was so busy focusing on Jason he didn’t actually notice that Bruce was talking to him again until the man had repeated his name a couple of times, now sounding worried.
Feeling suspicious. Sounding worried.
“Danny?”
Danny shook his head, hair flopping around his face and half his attention still on Jason’s cranky ass.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said still half distracted, and felt the suspicion ramp up another notch.
For all that he couldn’t laugh aloud, wrapping the desire and the need to laugh around Jason seemed to be helping. He settled enough to text back anyway.
‘JTodd: Sorry. Probably my fault.’
Well that was bullshit.
“I said I’m sorry, Danny. He mentioned you had a difficult past, but I had no idea…”
And yeah, that probably was too. Easy to prioritise though.
‘DannyP: ur gonna be Jazz’s final psych project if u keep that up and i will not save u 😤🫡👻’
‘DannyP: 🖕💋he’s a grown ass adult and so am i and i can be a sketchy bitch just fine on my own sir’
And since Bruce was going to take whatever he did as suspicious anyway, Danny might as well get him warmed up for Harley.
“Yeah, well, don’t go throwing a public party to all of high society about it. Trust me, I do not need a second creepy billionaire trying to make me a show pony.”
Another block of silence, but Danny was satisfied that this one was at least less certain. Felt like a big decision was afoot.
Finally Bruce sighed and deflated, and for once his aura matched the gesture.
“It was a mistake, wasn’t it?” It almost wasn’t a question. Danny figured that progress deserved a reward anyway. Kinda.
“Well again, Harley Quinn came back from the Amazon to kick your ass about it, so yes. I think we can both agree that was a bad life choice.”
Bruce’s grip tensed on the steering wheel a little and Danny relented. Fuck him for being a softie.
Even when he was also still kinda pissed, it was hard to ignore the sudden doubt, fear, guilt suddenly stinking up the car.
The anger, much more familiar. Danny knew exactly what to do about angry people, but Bruce’s anger felt a little too familiar. A little too internal-only.
“He said you’d never told him you were sorry before, man. Not even once until you shoved him right into the spotlight. What does it say that you can say it to me but not him?” He asked softly.
Bruce was quiet for most of the rest of the drive, but since he actually seemed to be thinking about what Danny had said, Danny left him to it.
It was as they were finally pulling up to the gates of Wayne Manor that he spoke again.
“I may not have been much of a father to Jason, but I won’t see him hurt again. Not if I can help it.” There wasn’t actually any menace in the tone.
Just a stone cold certainty that was way, way scarier.
Well. Probably for anyone who wasn’t the actual ghost king. Or just uncontrollably sarcastic.
Danny grinned.
“Well if this is gonna be your shovel talk, you should be aware that I’ve already been six feet under. It takes a lot to scare me,” he teased, resting his bare feet on the console in front of him.
Outside, the gate swung slowly open. Bruce took advantage of the pause to stare directly at him again, those blue eyes suddenly piercing and not even trying to hide the intelligence within.
“Noted.”
And okay. Maybe Danny needed to invest in some more one liners, cuz that was way fucking cooler than any complicated threat or pun.
Kinda hated how cool it was, actually.
He let just a little of the eldritch creep into the smile he gave back.
“Oh, and Bruce? Samesies. Seems like Jason has a lot more people who have his back than he thinks he does, but now? He’s also got me. And Harley’s probably the nice one.”
If the guy was going to think the fucking worst of Danny no matter what, might as well use that to try and make him be a less shitty dad.
Shovel talking the Ghost King? That took some balls.
Bruce didn’t seem to be noticeably intimidated though. Just stared at Danny for a long moment, eyes narrowed, before he nodded again.
“You don’t know Harley well,” he remarked dryly, heading on up the ridiculously long driveway to the house.
Danny didn’t actually manage to pull all the way back into human tones before he laughed, the shadows stretching and creaking around the sound.
“Yeah, fair point.” He sure as shit wouldn’t argue it where she could hear him after all.
**
It took Steph to finally bring the conversation back around to the thermos.
They’d moved on to telling Harley the actual details of what had happened at the gala, from Bruce’s crimes to Sam and Danny’s.
Harley was absolutely delighted by the whole story, and it was Steph who gave Sam a gentle nudge, grinning at her.
“Y’know, I never got around to asking why you even had that giant thermos. I was with you most of the night and I never saw you drinking from it?” She asked.
Sam chuckled softly, reaching into the deep pocket of Cass’s pants and pulling out the thermos in question. She always had one on her.
Tucker was supposed to as well, but if he knew she was gonna be there? Yeah, he tended to forget. Or save the space for something more interesting.
“Oh, this? Yeah this really isn’t a drinking thermos,” she explained, setting it on the table and sharing an amused glance with Tucker.
Maybe side eying Jason. It was gonna be a drinking thermos for him, poor bastard.
Steph’s eyebrows rose and she reached out, taking the thermos when Sam nodded her assent. Turning it over in her hands.
“Wait, so it’s strictly a combat thermos?” She asked like it was a joke, grinning at Sam as she unscrewed the lid.
Tucker stifled a laugh from across the table and Sam grinned back, leaning back in her chair. The table had been cleared of dinner by now, but dessert they’d wait on Bruce and Danny for.
Speaking of Danny…
“Actually, yeah. The Fenton Thermos is pretty much our best tool for the rogue attacks we get in Amity Park,” she explained with a modest shrug.
Steph looked even more surprised, hefting the unexpected weight of what looked like an empty thermos.
“It made a pretty good throwing weapon,” Dick offered from the end of the table. Tucker snickered and shook his head, holding out a hand to Steph.
“It’s not actually meant to be for throwing, but that definitely worked,” he agreed, gesturing for the thermos.
Turning it to show the table, Tucker pointed to the big green button on the side. The big, obvious green button that you could pretty easily press by accident.
“You can capture ghosts with it once they’ve been weakened, and then Danny lets them out back in the Ghost Zone. It doesn’t actually hurt them, but apparently it’s not comfortable.”
“How do you know, if it only catches ghosts?” Duke asked, a slight frown on his face and he leaned forward to see around Tim.
Tucker shot him a smug grin, twirling the thermos and passing it back to Sam. Clearly enjoying his time in the spotlight, and Sam wouldn’t begrudge him that.
Not when she could bully him about showing off for his new boyfriend later. It was kinda cute watching that hero worship turning into an actual proper crush.
Cuter that Tim was being just an average guy, and Tucker was still losing his shit over it. Sweet revenge for all those times the boys teased her about her crush on Val.
“Well, for one thing pretty much all of our ghosts have stopped trying to attack these days, and some of them are actually pretty chill? Buuuut you can also use it to catch half ghosts,” Tucker explained with a smug grin.
Sam chuckled, taking the cap back from Steph and screwing it back on.
“Danny says it’s like being squished into a really tight sleeping bag. Worse if someone else is in there with him, but they can’t really move or fight in there.”
“If someone’s been a real pain in the ass sometimes Danny keeps them in Soup Time for a week or so as punishment,” Tucker added, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head.
“Isn’t that unethical?” Dick asked, down beside Damian, and Sam raised an eyebrow at him.
“Oh, do the people you arrest only get locked up for a day or so?” She asked dryly and Dick grinned, raising both hands.
“They don’t get locked in really tight sleeping bags. But what happens after they’re let out? They just go back in the Ghost Zone?” He prodded, not quelled by her stare this time.
Good. More fun when people fought back. And, for a cop, Dick wasn’t really all that bad.
He’d probably get fired for that pretty soon.
Sam shrugged, taking over the explanation for now and tucking the thermos back into her pocket.
“Pretty much. Most of the ghosts pretty much just showed up to fight Phantom and the trouble they caused around town was part of that.”
“Phantom being Danny’s superhero name?” Tim asked, looking extremely covetously at where the thermos had disappeared under the table.
Sam stuck her hand in the top of the pocket, keeping it on the lid of the thermos. They didn’t exactly have enough to spare.
Of course Tucker swept in when his boytoy had a question.
“Yeah, that’s him. The town used to call him Inviso-Bill until he actually told someone to call him Phantom instead,” he added, snickering.
Sam couldn’t resist chuckling along; honestly, if she ever learned who’d started that nickname she’d send them flowers. It was fucking priceless.
“Yeah. There were some rowdier ghosts, usually when their Obsessions got triggered, but honestly? Once they were beaten most of them settled down. It was just the ones that wanted to brawl with Danny that kept coming back.”
“We didn’t really have anything else to do with them either,” Tucker pointed out with a snicker, shaking his head, “it was Soup Time, back home, or the Fenton family dissection table.”
Their hosts looked suitably disturbed at that, Harley leaning in from her end of the table to be the voice of the room.
“The Fenton family what the fuck? Didn’t ya say the kid was a Fenton?” She asked sharply.
Sam ran a quick mental check of the list Danny had cleared them to talk about. Yeah, the Fenton parents were on it.
Just not the Ghost King stuff, anything about Jason, and anything specific about Ellie. No worries there.
She shrugged again, fingers tapping on the table. From her guess and Jason’s texting, Danny should be back soon.
“The Fenton parents were the ones who made a portal to the Ghost Zone in the first place. They were really interested in dissecting and studying any ghosts they could catch for a long time,” she explained dryly, not bothering to hide her feelings on the matter.
Duke looked a little sick. Maybe she should tone it down some, for the young and innocent among them.
“But that’d include Danny,” Dick pointed out, suspicion rising towards horror.
Sam fixed her gaze on him, not letting him look away.
“Yeah. It did. Which is why the three of us spent our high school years fighting ghosts and protecting the town in secret, cuz if we told anyone we thought Danny would go on the table.”
“They totally took it way better than we thought though,” Tucker tacked on quickly, searching something up on his PDA, probably for pictures of the GAV. “They’re Phantom’s biggest fans now.”
He tilted the screen to show Tim, whose jaw dropped.
Yeah, to be fair, words didn’t do the GAV’s new paint job justice. Tucker passed the tablet on to Tim to show Duke and Harley, and it made its way around the table.
They were probably running out of time.
Sam leaned in, catching the attention of the rest of the table and making eye contact with most of them.
“Some basic etiquette though, before Danny gets back? You never, ever ask a ghost how they died. They might bring it up, but you don’t ask. Okay?”
“Wait, why not?” Tim asked, his brows furrowing as he turned back to her. “Isn’t that the first thing they do in all those ghost hunting shows?”
Which. Well. Sam had a whole special rant about ghost hunting shows and their bullshit, but before she got started Jason cut her off.
“Cuz dying fucking sucks, Timmy. Do you wanna bug Steph or Dick about the times they died?” He asked pointedly, and Tim flushed.
Yeah, that kinda explained the death taint Sam could just about taste from half the table. She wasn’t going to mention it, because she had some damn manners.
Tim seemed to have gotten the point though, stammering a quick apology and sinking back into his seat. Tucker gave him a conciliatory pat on the shoulder.
“Pretty much the first thing you gotta learn about real ghosts is that ghost hunters have no idea what they’re doing. They don’t even ecto infuse their tech,” he added with a derisive snort.
Sam rolled her eyes, stifling a grin. Alfred had disappeared, which probably meant Danny was imminent.
“Harder to do without a ghost or half ghost on your team, Tuck. But more to the point, do you guys wanna see the Fenton Thermos in action?” She asked innocently, pulling it back out of her pocket to wiggle.
Once again, Harley spoke for the table.
“Hell yeah. Are ya gonna throw it at Brucie again too?” She asked brightly, and Sam paused, considering.
Finally sighed and shook her head.
“Probably not. I’ll let you handle him,” she decided, smirking as Harley reached back down for her trusty bedazzled bat.
“That’s what the ol’ Therapy Bat’s for,” Harley agreed brightly, getting to her feet. She’d clearly clocked Alfred’s exit too. And the approaching sets of footsteps.
Sam grinned and readied the thermos.
**
Bruce had almost forgotten that Harley would be waiting until Danny reminded him. An unusual lapse for him, but he had a lot on his mind.
The only thing he wanted to do was get down to the cave and talk to Constantine; to finally get some answers, both on what had gone wrong in Amity Park and precisely what was keeping them out now.
He had the very tiniest bit of hope that one question might also hold the answer to the other; that it was perhaps something Constantine had done, or could undo.
He did not like having to rely on biased secondary sources for data. It was frustrating to run into so many dead ends.
Luckily for him though, Danny had reminded him, which meant he could take Harley aside, find out what she wanted, and get it dealt with instead of going straight to the cave and being surprised.
As little as he liked John Constantine, he wouldn’t subject the man to Harley if he could help it. Harley was something of a kryptonite to many of the magicians; she broke their rules in ways they couldn’t reconcile.
Bruce absolutely did not doubt Zatanna that Harley had temporarily sold herself to a demon prince and within 24 hours annoyed him so much that he gave her back, deal intact.
She was a force to be reckoned with. And privately… Bruce would hang up the cowl if Constantine decided he wanted to give her methods a try on top of his own.
No. Best keep them as far away from each other as possible.
So he was accompanying Danny and Alfred to the family dining room, where he’d collect Harley and take her to his office.
Half an hour to get through whatever she wanted, and then he could go down and talk to Constantine. The perfect plan.
Part of him hoped that Danny had been right, and she was here to explain what he’d done wrong with Jason.
Bruce would be the first to admit that he just… couldn’t seem to do right when it came to his second son.
He loved Jason dearly, but his death was something Bruce had never gotten over. He’d seen Jason so many times, as he died and as Bruce imagined he’d have grown over those years.
It had been hard for him to believe Jason really was himself, even if he looked nothing like Bruce had always expected. He’d always been so small.
No. He’d refused to believe it. Refused to believe the kind, loving boy he’d known could have become this large and angry killer.
It had coloured their relationship ever since. The things Jason had done, the things Bruce had done to stop him.
The fury with which Jason had forced his real identity down Bruce’s throat until he couldn’t deny it anymore. The one person he thought he could never let down again.
Jason was calmer now. Had a lid on the rage, and just plain walked away when he was on the edge of his control. Bruce admired that, as much as he could.
The only thing Bruce knew how to do with his emotions was push them aside and try to keep soldiering on, and it had cost his family so many times.
He’d thought he was getting better, but when it came to Jason… Bruce knew he still wasn’t thinking clearly. He’d upset Jason at the gala, he knew he had.
He’d seen it in his face, even if Jason had covered it before reaching the stage. He just wasn’t sure how.
Bruce prided himself on his ability to read faces. He was certainly no Cass, but it was his most used skill. Jason’s had never been a mystery to him before.
But somehow all Bruce could see in the older Jason’s face was the shadows of the bruises, the beating that face had worn the last time Bruce held him in his arms.
Cold. Lifeless. A death mask that only ever seemed to clear under Lazarus green rage.
He didn’t know when his baby boy had become so unreadable to him. What part of the horrors which Jason had lived through had made him put on a mask so thick Bruce couldn’t see through it.
And he was afraid to ask. Afraid of what he might see under that mask, and afraid to hear everything Jason had been put through because of Bruce’s failure.
He could have asked Danny in the car. At least where he’d gone wrong last night. They’d been alone, without anyone to overhear. And yet…
Bruce couldn’t bring himself to trust Danny. Oddly he found himself liking the boy more since Danny had threatened him, but his doubts remained.
Vlad had been personable, charming, and open during their meal together, and Bruce knew all too well how vile men could put on a front like that.
Normally he would have trusted Danny’s impression of Vlad over his own implicitly; it was part of the reason he brought his children to galas.
Brucie Wayne was too well known, too powerful, too influential. No one wanted to show him anything but their best, the sides they thought he would like to see.
The truest measure of a person came in the way they treated those they saw as beneath them, and for most adults that would automatically always include children.
Danny’s words tracked with the odd moments of quiet regret in Masters’ face when he talked about his godson. Far more egregious than the “misunderstandings” he’d hinted at, but a testament nonetheless.
There had been no trace of a lie in Danny’s voice or face. And yet.
There was no fear either. Not a trace of concern at being alone in the room together before Bruce returned.
None of the wariness one would naturally expect when a young man faced a much older adult who had at the very least made serious threats towards his family and possibly psychologically abused him.
It didn’t make sense. There was no right or wrong way to respond to an abuser, but Danny’s open antagonism of Vlad pointed at something else. A piece Bruce was still missing of what passed between them.
There were too many unanswered questions about Danny Fenton, and the situation with Jason was too delicate to rely on a single unknown factor.
No.
Danny may take advantage of any perceived weakness to steer him wrong, push him to another mistake, widen the rift between Bruce and his son.
It wasn’t safe. Wasn’t the plan.
For all that she’d been a rogue, Bruce trusted Harley implicitly… at least in matters of the heart. On the off chance she was there for anything else, he could still ask her before she left.
Maybe after he was done with Constantine.
Of course no one was around to give him answers when he had plenty of spare time on his hands. No, they had to come all at once.
Fine.
He may have to leave Jason with Danny for now, but they would hardly be unsupervised. The others would keep a watch for him while he got answers.
Bruce was actually beginning to feel pretty good about the evening by the time they reached the dining room.
And then the door opened, Danny walked through, and vanish in a blur of bright blue light.
Bruce threw up a hand to shield his eyes as light flashed across him, and it went dark a moment later.
Sam Manson was holding the thermos again (his head throbbed a warning), screwing the lid back on with a satisfied smirk.
Danny Fenton was gone. Just gone. Like he’d never been there, until.
“I fucking hate you so much.”
That was Danny’s voice, no doubt about it, coming from… the thermos.
What.
As Steph would say.
The fuck.
**
Harley was the first to recover her voice, throwing both hands into the air and whooping.
“Now THAT is what I call a party trick! You kids ever wanna come out Coney Island way ya can stay with me an’ take a turn at th’ Freakshow if ya want!”
The room froze, temperature actually plummeting as the Amity Parkers both flinched.
(Danny mighta also flinched but he was in a soup thermos, it was harder to tell.)
Tucker spoke up, making a face and exchanging a look with Sam.
“Uh… pass, thanks. Had some pretty bad experiences with clowns and circuses,” he explained, and Harley nodded understandingly.
No matter how much he liked to pretend he was, Joker was hardly the first asshole to wear the face paint.
It was why she didn’t wear hers if she was gonna be anywhere around Jason.
Not like she’d liked the full face stuff Joker did anyway. She could have a lot more fun with eyeshadow and a little lipstick, but some people needed to be terrified.
Harley Quinn’s war paint was satisfyingly terrifying enough that she’d pull it out for special occasions.
“Yeah, that’s fair,” she agreed easily, noted the air began to warm.
So it was one of them doing it. And from the way the two she could see relaxed just after, she’d put her money on Danny. Made sense with the ghost thing.
Anyway, she’d come here for a reason. Strolling casually over towards Brucie, she ruffled a hand through Jason’s and then Sam’s hair.
“Yer all still welcome to come visit though, just call ahead an’ I’ll tell the crew to put the theatrics on hold. I got a whole floor full of puppies and kittens that need some love,” she told them cheerfully.
And paused at a sudden horrible ripping sound, like part of the universe had been velcro and just pulled itself apart.
A glowing green hole opened just behind Sam’s chair and Danny’s head poked through, just a little below Harley’s height.
“You have a fucking what?”
She ruffled his hair too, grinning.
“Yeah, building I inherited had a free floor my aunt used ta rent, I didn’t want anyone upsettin’ my crew and all these lil cuties were just wasting away at the pound so Ivy did me up an indoor park. There’s about thirty of ‘em,” she explained brightly.
Sam snickered, settling comfortably in her turned chair.
“Bet cleaning up after that many is a treat,” she commented dryly and Harley tipped her a wink.
“It’s no trouble! I do the scoopin’ and once a week we load the big bags up on th’ roof catapult and shoot ‘em into the city. At the mayor’s house if he’s bein’ trouble.”
“Harley, I have a theory about who might want you gone,” Duke put in from the other end of the table, all dry sarcasm.
Harley laughed and blew him a kiss, giving her bat a lazy twirl.
“Hey, if he wants me ta stop all he’s gotta do is stop bein’ a pain in my ass an’ I’ll shoot ‘em at the dump,” she told him cheerfully, then turned back to Danny.
Back in the black hair. Didn’t seem like it mattered if he was actively a ghost or not gettin’ sucked inta the thermos. Interesting.
“You need a tow out?” She asked, other hand dropping back to his hair to give a gentle tug.
Danny gave her a slightly suspicious look.
“Do you promise no mind control or creepy clown shit?” He asked warily, and Harley loosed her grip to pat him on the cheek.
“Pinky promise, suga. I’m about to go give Brucie ‘is own private dose of scary clown shit that I’m sure he’ll completely understand that he wants to be in private,” she added more pointedly, giving Bruce a sharp look over her shoulder.
Behind her, Danny shrugged and pulled the rest of his body through the green rip, giving Sam a smack upside the head as his feet touched the floor and snatching the thermos from her.
“Confiscated til you’ll only use it’s power responsibly,” he told her, sticking his tongue out and dropping down into his seat, thermos held preventatively back and over his head.
Which made it all too easy for Jason to reach up and grab it from him, tucking it into the front of his hoodie pocket when Danny whipped around indignantly.
“You’re not responsible either,” Jason pointed out smugly and Danny sputtered but didn’t quite find words to argue.
They were fucking adorable.
If she didn’t have ta go try and beat the sense back inta Brucie’s head she’d have the time of her life just pinching their cheeks and winding them up about what to her studied eye was a pair of oblivious fresh forming crushes.
Young love was just the cutest when it was in that awkward blushy denial phase.
Yeah, Brucie was getting an extra whap for tearing her away from that.
Turning back to the big man, she prodded her bat into the center of his chest.
“So! Whaddaya think, big guy? Wanna give a nice big public apology for ya fuck up or shall we go talk somewhere in private?” She asked firmly, emphasizing those last words into a threat.
Bruce’s attention snapped away from glaring at Danny and Jason to fix on her, clearly analyzing her words. Of all the hopeless little shits…
She was gonna find someone to get him his proper diagnosis. Had to at this point.
Couldn’t be her, she was technically a conflict of interest, but holy fuck the man screamed emotional disregulation with a hefty side of autism spectrum.
At least he’d know what direction he needed help in, as if he wouldn’t promptly ignore any advice that included “talk about ya damn feelings”. Too bad for him.
She gave him another firm poke with the bat and he nodded sharply, gaze snapping from her around to the door.
His shoulders settled just a little, posture relaxing in what she knew was relief as he motioned for her to follow. Still looked tense as hell, but she’d probably only get a dime back for bouncing a nickel off him now.
That was real relaxed for Brucie.
Maybe he was finally self aware enough to accept that he needed some help with all the emotional stuff.
Good. Maybe she’d only do one kneecap.
**
As Harley followed Bruce out of the room, Sam’s phone began buzzing dramatically in her pocket. Abandoning her quest for the thermos, she pulled it out and glanced down.
Grinned wickedly. She’d been expecting this for a while now actually.
“Aw, look, my parents saw our selfies on Twitter,” she cooed sarcastically, Manson Party Voice making a brief return.
Danny scooted just a little away from the still buzzing phone.
“So are you gonna get that?” He asked as Alfred brought him a perfectly reheated plate. “What? Oh, thanks.”
Sam shrugged, hit speakerphone, and set it on the table. They’d posted those pictures pretty much solely for the incoming reaction.
“Hey mom, what’s up?” She said sweetly, still in her public facing voice.
Her mother did not sound nearly as composed.
“SAMANTHA. Where ARE you?! What are you wearing?! Where are your clothes and WHY, in the name of all that’s good, are you anywhere near HARLEY QUINN?! Have you been kidnapped?!”
Sam rolled her eyes hard enough that Tucker faked a fatal injury across the table. She flipped him off as Tim and Duke stifled laughs.
“Yes, mother, I have been kidnapped and just answered my phone completely normally. I’m at the Waynes’,” she added quickly, before her mother could jump to conclusions.
And gave her some new conclusions to jump to instead, but who cared. Still, something seemed to be sticking in her mom’s mind.
“With Harley Quinn?” She asked suspiciously after a moment’s silence.
Which, to be fair, was kind of a good point.
“Apparently she’s a family friend? Like Grandma and Ivy,” Sam added delicately, a vicious satisfaction rising through her.
She’d gotten to say her piece at the gala yesterday and had thought she was done, but. Well. Years of restriction and so on.
She was definitely still having fun winding her parents up.
Her mom’s sharp intake of breath was clearly audible even over the phone, and then the shouting started again.
“Samantha MANSON do not even THINK about going anywhere with that woman! You have responsibilities! School! Your work! We’re coming to pick you up RIGHT NOW, and… where are your CLOTHES?!”
Alfred cleared his throat from behind them, where he’d stayed from delivering Danny’s dinner. Sam half turned and he raised a brow, inclining his head slightly.
She scooted her chair out of the way to let him get closer to the phone, waving a hand in open invitation.
“If I may interject,” Alfred said calmly, not a trace that anything was even slightly amiss, “the young lady’s clothes are in the dryer at present. They will be finished shortly.”
Another long silence. Her mom probably realizing that Sam had her on speaker. And that she would still be on speaker the next time she spoke.
Finally she choked out a terse, “thank you. I do hope she has been behaving herself. We will be there to pick you up in half an hour, Sammy, and we will Have Words.”
Which Sam kinda doubted, given where the hotel was and how long it had taken Danny and Bruce to get back, but time would tell.
At least they weren’t hiring a helicopter.
It sucked to have to leave, but she’d have needed to head out soon anyway. Her flight back to university would be leaving this evening, and at least this way she could hang out with the others until her parents arrived.
No reason not to needle them more though.
“Aw but mom, I’m having such a good time hanging out with Cass,” she sighed, switching from Party to Heartfelt Woe expertly.
Down beyond Jason, Cass stifled a giggle. It clearly sent Sam’s mom into another spiral of conflicting emotions; delight, hope, ecstasy, and ongoing horror at the presence of Harley.
Who, technically, was no longer present in the room, but telling her mom that would only make her feel better, so Sam wasn’t gonna bother.
Honestly, if she wanted to run away and be an ecoterrorist with Pamela Isley, she could just ask Grandma to text her. She didn’t need kidnapping.
Still, apparently the risk of a close contact with Poison Ivy outweighed her mom’s desire to see her cozy up with the Waynes.
It’d have been real sweet if it had been a worry for Sam’s health instead of a worry about what Sam would do to other peoples’ health. The lack of trust stung, truly.
“We’ll be there in half an hour, Sammy. Get your clothes back on and say thank you for having you,” her mom warned, tone sharp and clipped.
And then hung up the phone before anyone could argue, because while she never used to listen to Sam before, she did somehow still know her. Ah well.
Sam sighed, stuffing the phone back into her borrowed pocket.
“Guess my parole has ended. I’ve gotta get back for my next semester anyway, but you have my number?” She asked Steph, looking from her back to Cass.
Both women nodded enthusiastically, Steph sighing and slumping forward into the table.
“Do you really have to go? Harley probably won’t be done with Brucie by then, you’ll miss the best part!”
But in all honesty, Sam wasn’t too upset about that. She’d made her feelings perfectly clear via thermos, and if Jason wasn’t satisfied with Bruce’s real apology she could always come back.
So she shrugged, grinning.
“Guess it’s my turn to get the video recap once it’s all over. You guys’ll film it for me, right?” She asked, looking from Danny to Tucker.
Both of whom gave her a thumbs up.
“We should make a new group chat,” Tucker mused eagerly, already pulling his phone up, “one for all of us.”
“Then we’d know which galas you were coming to!” Steph agreed at once, her own phone magically appearing in hand.
Dick snickered, leaning back in his seat.
“Said like Steph’s ever let Bruce drag her to one against her will,” he teased and Steph flipped him off.
“Hey, if you’d had the good sense not to let him adopt you you wouldn’t have to do them either,” Steph told him primly. Dick rolled his eyes.
“I’m his ward, not adopted,” he argued mostly futilely, and Sam snickered.
“And still have to go apparently. Doesn’t the ward thing end once you’re a legal adult?” She asked innocently.
Dick gave her a deadpan stare.
“Ma’am, if you want to try and wrest an orphan from the hands of Bruce Wayne you be my fucking guest, I gave up years ago.”
Which, fair. Their rifts had been legendary enough to make the circuit. She toasted him with her phone and settled back.
“Point taken. If being a cop didn’t make him give you up nothing will,” she added slyly, and Dick mimed grievous injury, slumping forward onto the table as the others laughed.
Grinning her triumph, Sam turned back to Alfred.
“So if you just show me where the laundry room is I can grab my clothes?” She offered, trying yet again to be helpful.
Being from a rich family didn’t mean having no damn manners, no matter how often it looked like it.
The old man gave her another of his extremely arch expressions, an eyebrow rising as if to question her impertinence. He had to be fucking with her.
“I shall bring your clothes to the downstairs bathroom on this hall when they are done so that you may change, Miss Manson,” he said coolly.
She’d never heard anything like it.
It didn’t sound like he was upset or offended the way people usually did when their voices iced over that sharply. Just… not an ounce of wiggle room.
Not a sliver of a hint that anything he was saying would not happen exactly as he’d decreed it. He sounded more imperious than a king, and she’d seen those.
Sam kinda imagined that’d be what Clockwork would sound like if she ever met the guy.
Duke misinterpreted her decidedly impressed stare with a wry chuckle, apparently misinterpreting her expression.
Fair, since he couldn’t know she was comparing him to the living manifestation of Time.
Well. Ghostly manifestation. Same difference.
“Miss Manson’s probably the best you’ll get out of him,” Duke said almost apologetically, grinning. “It’s gonna be that or Miss Samantha.”
Which admittedly was enough to make her turn to face him, curiosity peaked.
“What do you mean?” She asked, glancing back up at Alfred.
She couldn’t read anything but serenity in his face, but mild amusement practically radiated off him. She’d have to ask Danny what he saw in his aura.
Dick took this one too, sitting back in his seat and grinning at her.
“Alfie’s serious about the whole “proper titles and full names” thing. I’ve been trying for almost twenty years to make him call me “Dick”, and I think he’d be slower to give that up than Bruce’d be to unadopt me,” he explained cheerfully, arm tossed over the back of his chair.
Alfred treated him to a slowly raised eyebrow too.
“As you say, Master Richard,” he agreed placidly and Sam pressed her lips together on a smile.
She didn’t have to turn around to know exactly what face Danny would be making. The last thing he needed was another scary old man full naming him.
And right on cue…
“Uh… can I specifically request Mister Fenton then?” Danny asked and sure enough when she turned, yup, he even had his hand in the air like a child.
Alfred treated him to that calm stare as well.
“May I ask why, Mister Daniel?” He asked, clearly prodding despite every line of both face and posture oozing nothing but polite respect.
Danny fully flinched, which was interesting. He barely reacted whenever Vlad said his name.
Sam adjusted her opinion of Alfred along a couple “scarier than Vlad” levels.
“I have name-related trauma from another billionaire who refuses to call me anything but that,” Danny admitted sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s a really not-fun association.”
“Vlad again?” Tim asked from across the table, sounding sympathetic.
Danny pulled a face at him, sort of grimacing more than a smile.
“Oh yeah. And let’s just say he also does it in super bad situations, so I’d be happier to just never hear it again.”
Sam peaked back over her shoulder at Alfred, wondering what he’d do with this news.
If Danny was gonna be a fixture in Jason’s life (and let’s be honest, he’d be a fixture in Jason’s bedroom by the end of the month), and Jason was a fixture in Alfred’s… they’d see more of each other.
Everyone knew Bruce had been basically raised by Alfred. If he was half as emotionally constipated…
But there was an actual human expression on the old man’s face now, and it looked a damn sight like shame. He cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him.
“My apologies, Mister Fenton. Would you perhaps prefer Mister Danny?” He asked, which would have seemed completely innocuous on its own.
Dick slammed both fists into the table, making half the table burst into giggles.
“Fucking SERIOUSLY?! Is it just me! This is bullshit Alfie!” He declared dramatically.
Tim looked equally gobsmacked, jaw on the proverbial floor as he stared at Alfred, and even Steph looked put out and impressed.
Danny, deeply confused but relieved, stuck his tongue out at Dick.
“Hey, if you want another overly possessive and creepy billionaire determined to control your life you’re welcome to take him off my hands,” he declared smugly, and Sam snorted a laugh.
There was a decided devilry in young Damian’s face too, which vanished almost immediately after it appeared as the youngest spoke up.
“Honestly, Richard, you must admit that Danny’s situation is decidedly more grave than your own,” he said simply, a strong undercurrent of smugness under the words.
Tim threw both hands into the air so hard he almost tipped his chair over.
“Him too?! Come the fuck ON!” He proclaimed to the world at large as Duke snorted half a glass of water out of his nose in a choked laugh.
Tim gave him a hearty slap on the back that was probably supposed to help, the younger boy still wheezing and gasping for air, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him.
There was clearly something of an inside joke going on, and it wasn’t exactly a complicated one.
Danny had already settled back in his seat, perfectly happy with the consternation he’d caused, and Sam joined him.
Watching the dramatics of the extended Wayne clan was even better at home than it had been at the gala. For a show this good, she’d have bought tickets.
**
As she closed the office door behind her, Harley took a moment to give Bruce another, slower once over.
It had been a while since she saw him last, and between what Selina had told her and what the kids told her, she wanted a read on his headspace.
He looked… well, like he had a stick up his ass a mile high, but that was pretty much default for him when he wasn’t being Brucie. Never learned how to take a breath, that guy.
But from the way he moved straight to his desk, not even pausing to see if she shut the door before dropping into his seat, she’d put money on “tired”.
Not just regular nightlife tired either, if he showed it this easily. Freshly shaved, dressed immaculately, face done up with minimal but flattering makeup.
He’d put himself together pretty today, but something was cracking underneath.
Once she was satisfied she’d gotten the big picture, she sauntered after him and hopped up to sit on his desk, foot pressed firmly to the middle of his chest to go for the details.
“So, Brucie, do ya know why I’m here?” She asked expectantly. It’d tell her a lot about where they were starting from; it was hard to fool the big bat, and none of ‘em had been trying.
Bruce raised an eyebrow at her foot, but wisely didn’t move to touch it. Clever boy. He might win a physical fight if they got serious, but he also knew she was damn good at what she did.
If they threw down, she wouldn’t be helping him untwist that mess in his head. And he wouldn’t be walking away unscathed either.
No good with some fresh heroes who weren’t in on the Secret around. She could assume he’d made the calculations, but none of them showed. And wouldn’t it be nice if he hadn’t needed to?
Instead he sighed, leaning further back in his chair and rubbing both hands down his face.
Harley adjusted her estimate from “tired” to “fucking exhausted”. Not a good sign.
“I hope it has something to do with Selina texting you last night about the gala,” was all he said though, cryptic fuck.
Harley pushed with her toes just enough to make the chair roll back.
“Specifically, Brucie. If you can tell me what ya did wrong I’ll make it easier on you,” she teased, waving her bat playfully.
Like they didn’t both know the real damage would be with her words. Bruce preferred the bat though. In all ways, which, ha! She could still rock a killer joke.
He gave her one of his grouchy bat glares too, then slumped. Practically pre-broken. Something had to be up.
“I gave a speech. I… apologized to Jason for not being there when he…” he trailed off and Harley nodded, willing to accept that. Hard topics, and not one they’d discuss today.
Not that she wasn’t waiting with baited breath for Bruce to FINALLY decide he wanted to unload some o’ that trauma. But hey, baby steps.
He looked back up a second later, the mask gone as he met her eyes. He looked agonized.
For Bruce, anyway. Perfectly normal to anyone who didn’t really know how he ticked. But those lines around his eyes, the tension in his jaw?
Harley knew. From watching him when he’d thought he’d failed long ago, and from comforting him when one of the kids got hurt more recently.
“He looked like he’d seen a ghost, Harley. I’ve never seen him so shaken.”
Which Harley did have to bite back an entirely inappropriate laugh at. Jason looked preeeeetty happy to be canoodling with an actual ghost in the dining room right now.
She kept it on lock though. Totally professional.
Honestly, she was a little impressed Bruce had noticed. Jason was infamously his blind spot.
Humming softly she nodded slowly, fingers drumming along the shaft of the bat as she regarded him.
“And why do you think he did that, Bruce?” She prodded gently.
She was gonna have a check in with Jason later, not least for all the deets on his adorable new “friend”. Somewhere private, where the others couldn’t see.
But from what she’d seen tonight… Jason looked good. More relaxed, at ease with himself in a way that really tugged at her heart.
She hadn’t seen a lot of Jason since his return; she hadn’t stayed in Gotham long after breaking free of the Joker. But she’d come back when Selina called, and heard Waylon’s stories.
Of course he hadn’t come back as the happy, cheeky kid full of sunshine and magic. Even if he’d survived the warehouse he’d have changed.
The kid who’d cried at the thought of letting Bruce down so hard she’d foiled Joker’s plans herself so it wouldn’t happen… had been let down even more.
Even from a distance she’d read it in every inch of him; festering rage, pain, moving more like the big Bat than ever. Like his body was just a weapon he was barely connected to.
Like nothing else mattered but his mission, and he’d run on broken legs without even noticing. Like he didn’t think there was anything about him worth protecting.
(It may have factored into one of her own visits back to Arkham, even if Mister J had left her alone.)
The poor guy had been so full of anger ever since he came back, and for all that she’d been Joker’s when he died he’d never blamed her.
If anyone else on Earth knew what it was like to have your life torn to the ground by that bastard, to have nothing left even after you crawled away, it was Jason.
Harley wouldn’t have blamed him for hating her just as much as the clown himself, but he hadn’t. Not even full dark side. Not even that first time, Tim’s blood still on his suit.
He’d tensed to fight, admitted he’d heard about the big split, and believed her when she swore it was true. Even accepted her number, though he hadn’t called for almost a year.
They weren’t close, not like she was with the baby bats these days, but Harley worried about him.
There was something broken in Jason that still hadn’t healed, that he kept gashing himself on its sharp edges. Something that might finally be scabbing over.
So yeah, this was 1000% not the fucking time for Bruce to be all up in his bullshit.
At least he seemed to know that too, shaking his head and slumping forward against her foot so he could rest his head in his hands.
“I… I don’t know. I thought I could show him how sincere I was. Have witnesses who’d hold me to it. Not force him to be alone with me when it’s clearly not what he wants,” he admitted bitterly, shoulders slumping.
Harley let out another low hum, tracking every inch of his posture with alert eyes.
Yeah, that was true. Fucking stupid, especially from a guy as sharp as Brucie, but true. And fully consistent with his character.
Then she sighed, pushing him back upright, foot rising up almost to his collar to make him look at her.
“Did ya think about asking Jason what he wanted?” She asked dryly, fully aware of what the answer would be.
Watched Bruce’s face pinch in annoyance. Probably at himself, which would be good. Sometimes the answer literally was that easy.
He still shook his head, even if he didn’t quite meet her eyes.
“I thought…” he sighed again, running a hand through his hair, but didn’t try and hunch. “I didn’t think. I assumed he would see it the way I did.”
Which he’d clearly already noticed Jason hadn’t. Honestly, Harley was almost proud of the man. He wasn’t usually this emotionally aware.
No wonder he was exhausted. Lotta introspection, using all those brain muscles he abjectly refused to hone.
Harley nodded and crossed one leg over the other, switching out which foot kept Bruce pinned to his chair.
“It’s one helluva lot ta throw at someone in front of an audience, Brucie,” she agreed plainly, and watched with interest as that moment if irritation sharpened.
Almost pulled him back to bat face.
“You sound like Danny,” he grumbled, not actually arguing. Might have tried to cross his arms if her foot wasn’t in the way.
Harley wasn’t having any of it. She knew she’d liked the kid.
“Good, he’s got two braincells ta rub together. What’s more important: that people see you say you’re sorry, or how Jason feels?” She asked sharply, her patient tone evaporating.
To his credit, Bruce didn’t hesitate.
“Jason.” This, there was no question of. Good.
“And who knows best how Jason feels?” She pushed on, eyes narrowing when he hesitated.
“Don’t make me use the bat, Brucie,” she warned him, and Bruce sighed again, shaking his head.
“I know what you want me to say, Harley. But Jason… his emotions are unpredictable. Out of control. I doubt even he knows what they are half the time.”
Which, frankly, they weren’t going to get into at the moment, if ever. Jason’s emotional state was Jason’s business.
Harley fixed Bruce with an unimpressed stare, raising an eyebrow.
“Good thing I didn’t ask anyone to control it, huh? But who. Knows. How Jason feels.” It was barely a question anymore, the tapping of her bat against the desk more an empty threat.
She wasn’t against percussive maintenance, especially where Brucie was concerned; he responded better to violence than words half the time.
Kinda like he needed the stubbornness actually knocked out of him before he could listen. It was why she wouldn’t recommend him to any ol’ civilian friends still in the biz.
Not that they’d have appreciated her recommendation.
He stared her down for a moment, defiant even with the bat to hand. Harley let the other brow rise slowly and crossed her arms, leaning forward to lean on her knee.
Bruce could outstare a cat, but he couldn’t impress or intimidate her and he knew it.
He said nothing, still staring her down, and she could see where his brain had turned off and the stubbornness kicked in.
Fine. She’d played this game before, and she knew what he expected to come next.
Sometimes she even let him have it, a little rough and tumble so he could wrestle himself out of his head by wrestling her. But today, there were way more interesting things for her to do with her time.
Nothing short circuited a pattern of habit like the wrong response. Or a response that pulled up an older pattern.
Still staring him dead in the eye, she stuck her finger in her mouth, licked it wet, then leaned forward to shove it in his ear.
Bruce jerked back, hands almost rising defensively even as he made a disgusted face.
“Harley! Stop!” He protested, already losing a little of that stoic wall, and Harley grinned. It’d worked since they were Jason’s age in college and probably always would.
In his bat-suit, Bruce could take any torture, any indignity and never break. Without that cowl though, he was the same dweeb who’d joined the cheerleading squad with her because Harvey pouted.
It was really a very good thing she’d been on her way out of the rogue business before she cracked his identity, but since he’d always known hers he probably had plans against her.
He didn’t use them though, and she appreciated that, even as she licked her other finger fast and stuck it in his other ear.
“Say it, Brucie, or I’ll lick every pen in this office,” she threatened, watched a smile almost crack. And watched him sag, one of her wrists in each hand, his expression sobering.
Not closing off again though. Now his exhaustion was plain to see, along with the lingering sorrow and regret.
Looked like that little tussle would be enough for today. Probably.
“Jason knows what he’s feeling best. I am sorry, Harley. I never meant to hurt him,” he confessed almost in a whisper, and Harley let her own dramatics subside too.
It wasn’t what he needed anymore.
Hooking her foot in under the arm of the chair, she pulled him back in towards her.
“I know, kid. An’ lucky for you, Jason’s got a lotta people in his corner, and he’s a resilient boy. He’s gonna be alright.” His relationship with Bruce could only get so much worse, honestly.
No matter how the two disasters kept rubbing each other wrong, there was still love there. That was what had hurt Jason so much in the first place.
If he hadn’t loved Bruce, he wouldn’t care what the man thought of him. If he hadn’t thought Bruce loved him once, he wouldn’t care that the Joker lived.
Maybe one day she’d knock their heads together and make them talk it out.
Today, Bruce gave her a helpless look.
“I don’t even know how I hurt him, Harley. I should have asked, I know I put him on the spot, but I never thought… how can I stop if I don’t know what I’m doing wrong?”
Harley sighed softly, straightening back up and tugging her hands back easily, propping them on the desk behind her.
It was a tough one, not because the answer was hard, but because it’d be hard for Bruce. But he might finally be ready to hear it, if he’d done this much of the work without her.
“You know what I’m gonna tell you,” she prodded gently and didn’t push back when he pulled the chair in enough to brace his elbows on the desk on either side of her hips and bury his face in his hands.
Muffled the hell outta his voice, but she could still make out the words.
“Talk to him.” Which, yeah, she had a chuckle at the irony, petting mussed black hair.
“Yeah, yeah, the Bat’s one weakness, clear communication. But you don’t know Jason as well as ya think ya do, Brucie. He’s not the kid you brought home.”
He pushed up at that, frown on his face and mouth open to argue, and she placed a finger across it to shush him.
“I know ya think you know that. But he’s really, really not. And thinking ya still know him the same way is how you keep hurting each other.” She gentled her voice, kept it soft, but he still slumped like she’d punched him.
She went back to petting his hair. He preferred punching.
“Stop trying to surprise him. Ask what he wants. And if you can’t tell him how you feel…” she paused for a moment, let Bruce huff out the beginnings of a grumble, and chuckled softly.
No surprise there.
“Then try writing it down. Write him a letter, and keep it to yourself until you know what you want to say. As many as it takes, and toss ‘em right in the fire. And if ya still can’t say it aloud, hide one in yer underwear drawer or somewhere personal.”
That prompted him to look up again and Harley cocked a brow, grinning.
“What better way ta make one of your nosey lot read it?” She asked, grin settling to a smirk when Bruce’s lower lip slid out in a pout.
Not that fake pretty boy play one he did for cameras, the real Bruce Wayne Does Not Like You’re Right.
Catching it between forefinger and thumb she gave it a gentle tug.
“Seriously though. Try it. It’s easier than tryin’ ta improvise. And always, especially double important if yer gonna be in public, talk ta Jason first. No more surprises, or how’s ‘e gonna trust you?”
He knocked her hand away, but his eyes did that far off thing they always did when he was calculating, so she assumed he was taking it on board.
Finally he nodded, glanced at the clock, and frowned. Rigid mask falling back into place, her old classmate disappearing again.
“I’m afraid I have a meeting, Harley. Cape business. Was that all?” He did actually sound kinda sorry, so Harley forgave him for switching himself off before they finished.
“Fine. But I’m stickin’ around fer a bit, so we’ll talk about the apology thing later,” she warned, giving his chest another sharp poke and then trying to neaten the mess she’d made of his hair with her fingers.
Gave it up as a bad job.
“An’ put the cowl on, ya look like a drowned bat.”
He raised a pointed eyebrow at her, the gesture saying more clearly than words whose fault that was, and let her push him back far enough to stand.
“Thanks, Harley. I probably won’t be back tonight,” he told her, voice already lowering into that bat growl Selina went crazy for.
Hopping off the desk, Harley waved him away and bent to scoop her bat off the floor.
“Yeah, yeah. I gotta check on Waylon tomorrow anyway, but I’ll drop by when I have a minute.” She paused at the door and grinned over her shoulder at him. “The little one didn’t even try an’ stab me today.”
Bruce gave her a tight smile back, already at the clock. Ready for his Grand Descent. Dramatic bitch.
“High praise, from Damian,” he acknowledged, and Harley laughed, heading back out into the manor.
Maybe she’d join the kids for dessert.
**
Bruce had to admit he felt lighter as the door closed behind Harley.
She hadn’t told him anything he didn’t know, not really, but just. Knowing she was here. That she knew why Jason was upset, and would help him fix it.
He was always grateful that she’d been one of the rogues who turned… well, not exactly straight, he kept up with her exploits in Coney Island, but good.
She cared about people, and protected what she considered hers fiercely. Luckily for him, that included his brood.
And. Maybe. Just maybe.
Danny might have had a point.
Perhaps Harley could help him work out why it was easier to tell Jason he was sorry to a room full of people than it was at his son’s hospital bed after a bad patrol.
He changed in the elevator on the way to the cave, the spare suit from his office easy and familiar to put on.
A good thing too, since just as he arrived and settled in front of the Batcomputer to pull up anything he thought he might need (and telling himself it definitely wasn’t evidence against a colleague), the zeta tube activated.
::B069 - John Constantine::
Tonight was finally going to be his night.
**
A hundred feet up in the dining room, Danny Fenton stiffened abruptly mid conversation, senses prickling as someone new crossed his aura.
Well. Someone different. There was no mistaking that potent, crackling cloud of mixed wards and magic. It had been a while since they’d been to Amity Park, but it certainly wasn’t someone new.
A slow, thoughtful smile spread across his lips and he settled back in his chair, ignoring the surprised looks from his companions as he considered this development.
It certainly answered his earlier question.
A hand rose slowly to cup his chin, fingers drumming along his jawline as a slow chuckle slipped free.
Tonight might just be more interesting than the gala after all.
“So that’s John Constantine… huh.”
———————
Next:
Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @somuchyikes
#dp x dc#danny fenton dead and loving it#dead on main#danny x jason#jason x danny#yeah this might as well happen#chapter 11#answers time#somehow bruce is temporarily still in the dark#bruce heavy chapter#getting into the angst a wee bit for brucie#sucks to suck buddyboy
264 notes
·
View notes
Text
STOP YOUR WHINING.
a matt sturniolo fic; or is it ?
warnings: smut, fluff , overstimulation, aftercare, cockwarming ( sit on that dick sis 👅), softdom!matt/ chris , sub!reader, use of Y/N ( i have to.. i have no choice )
, cheating ( don’t do that guys it’s a fanfic!! )
plot;your youtube channel finally hit 4 million subscribers, as a ‘ treat ‘ from your boyfriend and his triplet brothers took you out for your favorite food, you were mad at your boyfriend for having a attitude with you earlier; but you know it’s not gonna last very long.
୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧
you and your boyfriend; matt sturniolo were in your room changing for your celebration, he had a certain look on his face as he was helping you get dressed.
‘ you like this, or this one. huh, pretty ? ‘
you picked out the outfit you wanted, which was one of his favorite shirts and some flared jeans with rhinestones on the two back pockets.
‘ what the fuck are you guys doing in there ? you better not be fucking again we got places to be. ‘ his brother , nick yelled from his room.
you and matt rolled your eyes and continued helping each other get dressed.
not too long later; you end up sitting on his lap at the diner, as a ‘ joke ‘ he slapped your ass and you turned to him glaring at him.
‘ oh, stop your whining, pretty. ‘ matt said.
‘ whatever. ‘ you said, rolling your eyes and listening in to the argument chris and nick were having over who had the best fit on.
since his shirt was obviously oversized on you. he pushed you up and pulled on your waistband on your jeans.
‘you want me to pull these down, pretty?’ he whispered.
‘ yes, please ‘ you nodded back in response.
he put the over sized shirt over your ass and pulled your pants down to get access to your already leaking entrance.
‘ i’m so fucked. ‘ you thought, hoping nobody catches you.
he pushed his shaft into you, letting you cockwarm him until later on, ( wink wink ).
‘ fuck. ‘ you said , lowly.
‘ what’s wrong, y/n ? ‘ his brother, nick asked in concern.
‘ nothing, i’m just starving. ‘ you replied, hoping nobody else asks you anything.
‘ me too, i’ve been waiting to come here ‘ nick replied back to you, doing a little dance earning laughs from everyone else at the table.
matt held your hips and whispered into your ear again. ‘ just wait until we get home. ‘
i’m absolutely fucked now.
you noticed that his brother chris kept giving glares at you two, as if he knew what was going on.
you then got a text from him, your face dropping immediately.
you then saw that he said that he didn’t want you to be all tied up when you got back , what did that mean?
matt was leaving out soon to go buy stuff from target and other stores for her gifts, and he only told chris.
you put your phone down and started ordering for yourself.
‘ and what would you like, ma’am? ‘
‘ uhm, i’d like the shrimp pasta please. ‘
‘ and what to drink ? ‘ the waiter replied.
‘dr pepper. ‘
the waiter walked away from the table to go get the food.
matt took his dick out of you slowly, putting it back in his boxers as you pulled back up your pants by yourself.
chris noticed this and smirked at you; he was awfully quiet this whole encounter.
chris let out a hiss as he put his hands over his pants.
later on; after everybody ate their food and celebrated her channels milestones they all got in the car. nick fell asleep ; chris was on his phone the whole time; brii fell asleep on chris’s shoulder by accident; and matt was the only one alert and awake
‘ okay pretty , i’m leaving out to go grab “ stuff “ you stay here. ‘
you kissed him and went into your room , changed into pajama pants and a regular shirt and your crocs chris got you years back.
you heard a tap at your door and got up and opened it; it was chris.
‘ what do you want ? ‘ you said, doing the handshake with him that you made.
‘ yknow what i’m here for, y/n. ‘ he said, glaring down into your eyes
‘ what do you mean, chris. ‘ you said, gaining a attitude.
he shut the door behind him, guiding you to the bed by your waist and laying you down.
you subconsciously leaned in to kiss him and he automatically returned the favor
he managed to slip his tongue into your mouth; your tongues basically fighting each other in your mouth.
he then moved his hand into your pajama pants, fondling with your sensitive clit.
‘ fuck. ‘ you said outloud, closing your eyes but trying your hardest not to give chris any of your attention.
‘ cmon, y/n. you know you wanna give me atleast some attention.’ he fake whined
stop your whining. you told him.
‘ oh really? let’s see about that y/n. ‘ he replied
then ; he moved down to your pajama pants, pulling them down and then also subconsciously pulling down your panties
you bit your lip, trying not to moan, playing this game of not giving him any attention.
‘ cmon, where’s my attention , ma ? ‘
he then started to tease your clit, making you whine quietly, atleast you thought you were being quiet.
he then got up on top of you, sticking his shaft inside you softly.
‘ tell me when your ready.’ ; he said, atleast he cared.
‘ i think i’m ready now. ‘ you replied
he then started to move inside you, already hitting that sweet spot for you. then feeling like it was time to move faster he did just as he thought; moving his hips at a faster pace. he gripped your hips as he started to go faster and faster.
you absolutely broke. ‘ oh fuck, chris ! ‘
‘ there’s my girl. ‘ chris said, holding the sides of your stomach
‘ fuck. ‘
chris kept going, speeding up multiple times and slowing down, teasing her. this caused you to whine about being teased
‘ stop your whining. ‘ he said,
chris then leaned in for a kiss, making her whine into his mouth.
she clenched around him signaling her orgasm, her legs started to shake.
‘ go ahead, cum for me. ‘ he said, then rubbing her sensitive clit to make her shake more; he started to get close himself, removing his hand from her clit and then scratching her sides, bruising her slightly.
after they both rode out their orgasms, chris took her to take a bath, running warm water for her, since she was already undressed he didn’t have to undress her all over again ; he placed her into the water .
‘ which soap do you want , pretty girl? ‘
she pointed to a scented soap , he poured it into her loofah and bathing her, letting her rest.
he then got some clothes laid out for her, dressing her and then placing her into her bed.
a/n first luh smut or whatever how u doinnn 👅👅
#Spotify#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#smut#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo smut#brusies#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
bad faith📎
“popular”! jungkook x underclassman! reader
genre: angst + hurt/comfort
synopsis: after stumbling out of your apartment when Miya broke the news about Jungkook’s return, you come across a familiar figure at the convenience store.
series: part of my papercuts smau
You walked aimlessly around in your pajamas and crocs, trying to process the revelation that Miya had quite literally dumped on you.
You weren’t running away, at least you didn’t think so, you just needed time to think. It wasn’t as if you hated Jungkook… but the news that he was in the same campus, the fact that you could potentially see him again?
That was hard to stomach.
You didn’t hate him.
But that didn’t mean that you had to be okay with meeting him… right?
It had been your fault. Partially. Kind of. If you hadn’t messaged him in the first place and did better research about his relationship with Miya… Maybe everything would’ve been… okay? You didn’t regret your decision, not really. You wouldn’t have been able to find solace in Miya nor developed the friendship that you had with your messy roommate if you hadn’t completely wrecked her relationship (though she assured you that you didn’t, you knew it was still partially true); you didn’t regret it. Really. Yet you still wonder at times like this how things would’ve been, how you would be if you hadn’t developed feelings for Jungkook.
You felt a surplus of emotions rise in throat that you had to fight to swallow down as you continued to walk. Comments, insults and insecurities that seemed to lie dormant for the last few months rose again with hellfire. Insults about your intellect, your weight, your body, your mind… everything seemed to add to the dark cloud that loomed over your every step.
You sighed as you surveyed your surroundings, it was the convenience store beside your university. Might as well buy a soju or something to ease your nerves (logically you knew it would do the opposite but currently you really didn’t give a fuck).
You brain continued to go into detail about every single feature of yours that made you even remotely inadequate: the little sac below your stomach that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you worked out (of course it wouldn’t, that was your freakin uterus), the hair on your head that never wanted to cooperate, the shape of your nose, etc, etc.
And by the time you had chugged the rest of the soju you had been nursing and had your mask back on, you were thinking of Jungkook.
That motherfucker seemed to refuse to exit your brain.
You missed how you felt with him.
And sometimes you missed him.
Maybe it was the alcohol.
It was an odd feeling, to dislike and love someone at the same time so intensely. You loved the moments, the feelings and sometimes him… But it was always laced with questions. Did he think I was ugly when I snorted while laughing? Is that why he broke up with me? Was it how I ate? Was it my looks? My personality?
Break-ups without specific reasons were the worst.
You let out a loud sigh as heard a small “fuck” from your left. You looked over to the next table to see a lump of black fabric that loosely resembled a guy slumped over. He suddenly sat up and sniffled before checking his phone, whatever notification he got made him groan and slump down on his chair again.
“Jaegguk?” Your question seemed more like a statement.
His doe eyes widened, “Sunny?”
———
“Are you drunk?” You looked over at Jaegguk’s flushed face on the bench next to you.
He held up the hangover medicine that he had finished, “Was. Wish I was though.”
“Guess today sucked for both of us.” You slightly slurred.
“What happened to you?”
“My ex came back.” You shrugged not knowing that the very ex you were talking about was right next to you.
Jaegguk’s eyebrows wrinkled, “The douche?”
You nodded, “Apparently he transferred to our school.”
Jaegguk laughed, “Well your bad day beats mine.”
You couldn’t help but survey his puffy eyes (which did not seem like it was from the alcohol), “What’s wrong with you?”
“I deleted my twitter.” He shrugged.
“You wish you were drunk because you deleted your twitter?” You tried to raise an eyebrow at the statement but your drunken haze left you unable to.
“No…” He looked away as if he was contemplating even answering the question.
“You don’t have to answer. Not if it’s personal.”
“I know.”
You don’t know why made the simple two words made you blush slightly. How often did you say that he already knew it was part of the equation?
Jaegguk didn’t make any move that indicated that he noticed and stood up, “Want to take a walk?”
“Okay.”
———
The cool October air was proving to wake you out of your drunken state as you and Jaegguk continued to chat. Topics jumped repeatedly, starting at with your assignments to his guitar to your respective interests in high school to, eventually, your failed relationships. Jaegguk listened patiently as you explained the situation you had found yourself stuck in with Jungkook. Of course, you didn’t go into deep detail of him… just the way he had made you feel: insignificant, worthless, disposable…
“Sorry.” You muttered by the end of your story, rubbing your eyes away of your tears, “I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional.”
Jaegguk did not respond and simply leaned down while hesitantly bringing his fingertips to the edge of your mask, “Listen Sunny: You are worth so much more than the words of an 18-year-old frat boy.” His thumb grazed your cheek, you could feel it through your mask, “You are and always will be mesmerizing.” He murmured before slowly wrapping his hand around your head, bringing you close, “Don’t forget that.”
They were simple words and at the most, generic. However, coming from his lips they felt like a dose of cold water on the grueling sun that was your mind. They felt fresh and comforting.
You let yourself bury yourself in his chest, “He was the reason I started going to the gym, you know? I felt ugly. I didn’t feel like I was enough.” You felt him visibly tense against you, “but.” You pushed yourself slightly off him so he could meet your eyes, “Not anymore. Not now. Now I’m going for me.”
Your gaze went down to his sneakers before meeting his eyes again, “I’m starting to be slowly okay with who I am, maybe at one point I’ll love her again.” You thought wistfully again to the naïve 17-year-old girl that had giggled over Jungkook’s texts, “I think she deserves that. I think I deserve that.”
Jaegguk didn’t answer, he just pulled you towards him again before burying his masked face into your hair.
———
“It’s late.” Your teeth chattered, damn you for only slipping out with your pajamas in the middle of October.
Jaegguk stared at your shivering form before chuckling, “And cold too apparently.” He pulled off his black hoodie, leaving him in short-sleeved white t-shirt. You couldn’t help but stare impressively at his tattoos when you handed it to you, “Wear it.”
“You’ll be cold too.” You whined.
He rolled his eyes, “I’m not the one who’s shivering right now, love.”
Ignoring the pet name that slipped out of his lips that was very much affecting you, you begrudgingly accepted his hoodie. Yet, you were still shivering.
“How far is your apartment from here?”
Jaegguk asked, noticing your still chattering teeth.
You looked around to see the bar you and your gang frequented, “A-about 30 minutes I think?”
Jaegguk sucked in a breath before checking his phone, “There’s no uber that’s available in the area… you’d still have to wait at least 20 minutes for one to get here.”
“S-shit.” Jaegguk tried to hide his amusement at your simple reaction but ultimately failed.
He looked around the neighborhood again, “My apartment… I share it with one of my friends.” He shifted weight from foot to foot, “It’s about 3 minutes away. If you run.”
“Fucking hell, let’s go!”
Jaegguk made no move, “You’re wearing crocs.”
You looked down, indeed you were, “Oh, I can still run-“
Jaegguk rolled his eyes before he picked you up causing you to let out a startled yelp, “You must be an idiot if you think I’d let you break your ankle at 2 am.”
And with that Jaegguk ran to his apartment, carrying you bridal style in his arms.
———
“Do you feel a little better?” Jungkook asked piling on another weighted blanket on you on his sofa.
You let out an exasperated sigh, fishing your mask from the sea of cloth before pulling in back on, “If you give me another blanket, I’ll be flat as a panini.”
Jungkook froze before breaking a smile, “Glad to see you feel okay enough to make jokes again.”
You smiled before leaning back into the couch with Jungkook joining you. You snuggled to his side, claiming that he was warm when in reality skin was ice cold and in dire need of weighted blankets more than you did.
“Feel better?” He craned his head to look toward you, resting your head on his shoulder.
You could smell him even through the mask.
“Yes.”
The moment was broken by the continuous dings of his phone on the table. Jungkook didn’t even spare a glance at the influx of messages that he seemed to receive. But you were able to see some. Scum. Go die. Fuck you. Manwhore.
Your face flushed red, itching to grab his phone and go off at the malicious texters, “You can get it-“
“No.” Jungkook shook his head, “I know who it’s from. I’ll deal with it in the morning.”
“Okay.” You didn’t ask any further questions though you were dying to ask them or at least give the messengers a piece of your mind.
Jungkook seemed to know the look in your eyes, “It’s my roommate. Well… some of them.
He kinda…” he bit his lower lip through his mask, “He accidentally kind of exposed me.”
You blinked, “Come again?”
Jungkook laughed, “Wait no… not like that…” He shook his head lightly, “Well, I’m not really in touch with most my high school classmates. My roommate is… he was a year ahead of me, so they don’t really have much of a problem with me… but with me…”
“They have a problem with you?” You quipped a brow.
Jungkook’s hesitation seemed to be an answer enough.
“Why?” You pressed.
“Because… Because.” He flexed his tattooed fingers, “I deserve it.”
You didn’t make a movement, you just stared at him. Trying to figure out what in the world the sweet man in front of you did that made his whole graduating class seem to be after him.
“I cheated, remember.” He said almost bitterly, “No one likes a cheater.” He shrugged, “I deserve it, really. It’s not that bad. It was worse at first.”
“How.” You demanded, “How is this better?” You motioned to the phone that continued to ding with hateful messages.
Jungkook shrugged as if you just asked him about the weather, “I mean I lost my scholarship after I got kicked off the soccer team…”
“What?!”
Jungkook looked away, “It was a long time ago… it doesn’t matter now.”
“You think you cheating as a stupid 18-year-old justifies you being cyberbullied after 3 years and losing a scholarship?!” You wanted to simultaneously slap some sense into the man in front of you and hug him.
Jungkook didn’t answer. He didn’t know if it justified it. He frankly didn’t care. Not really. Not anymore. His life was fucked up, he knew that, but he still felt guilty. He could never make right what he did to Miya, what he did to you. Taking the unfair punishments from others was a sort of payment in his mind to atone for his sins.
“I deserve it.” He muttered, trying to convince himself more than trying to convince you. Because he knew that the moment he realized how truly fucked up the situation was, the more devastated he would be. It seemed easier to blame himself for someone else’s malice than believe that they truly hated him.
If it was his fault he could continue on in his journey of self-loathing and delusion that the abuse he was facing was well-deserved. If he finally broke that… he would be faced with the fact that he was hated, and the hate was receiving was unjustified. It scared him.
“Do you remember when you asked me why I like Dramione?”
He slightly cocked his head to the side, “Yes?” It was almost like a question.
You didn’t look at him, you seemed lost in your own thoughts, “Even though Draco’s a bigoted, superficial, pompous and probably racist bully?”
“…Yes?”
You crossed your arms, “I like Draco Malfoy because from an author and reader’s perspective, he has so much potential.” Jungkook took a second to process your words, “Think about it, he’s a from an elite and very ancient bloodline with a questionable upbringing. Highly intelligent. Probably musically talented and very dedicated seeing how he created a wholeass chant for his housemates to sing just to piss off Ron. He was brought into a war as a child like everyone else, a pawn for two older men to use to their own disposal while watching his own parents fear for their lives in their own home. He bullied a girl just because of her background and called her slurs when in fact the Rowling confirmed that he only bullied her because he had a crush on her.” You shifted your gaze at him, “Problematic?”
Jungkook nodded, “Yes.”
You leaned forward to straighten your back, “So for this pompous, problematic, rich boy to ever become a likable male lead or at least someone worth writing about… he has to change. Somewhat.”
You continued, “He has to find the error in his original way of thinking and attempt to make amends. He has to humble himself to a level in which he realizes that blood purity means nothing. That he was wrong. For him to become in anyway a suitable candidate for Hermione Granger, he has to learn.” Your voice seemed to rise, “He has to pay for his crimes.”
Jungkook let out a shuddered breath.
“But.” You softened, “He also has to learn that he can’t change the past. The girl he loved would be the girl who was tortured in his home when he could do nothing but watch. He has to learn that nothing he could ever do could change that moment and he has to learn to live with it. And to still let himself love her and let her love him even though they both know exactly what happened that night.”
You finally looked at Jungkook, “I drew fanart for an unpopular and highly controversial couple because I think everyone deserves a second chance. He is horrible, prideful and a conceited bully, but he is still insightful, intelligent, cunning and loyal. As long as he is able to learn from his past and never commit anything like that again. As long as he strives to do everything in his power to make amends, he can change.”
You studied Jungkook’s dazed face, “You can change.” You stopped to think before looking back at a teary-eyed Jungkook, “In fact, I think you already have.”
25. bad faith🖊
<- prev next->
masterlist
a/n: thanks for reading! please remember to hit that rblg button as a pat on the head for me for a good job (•ᴗ•◍)!
synopsis: flirting with your crush of 3 years wasn’t something you thought of when first getting twitter, a nasty breakup wasn’t what you expected either… but why is it that after 3 years and loads of droning on self-improvement and trying to become “that” girl, your gym buddy reminds you of the one person you wanted to forget?
taglist❕
@epiph4ny @90s-belladonna @bubblytaetae @somelazysundays @flowerprincejin @silscintilla @hangsang-jh @vivisimpact @l7bangtan @bluxjun @mwitsmejk @vwinterr-bearr @xx-sikki-nixx-xx @haitani-22 @wrmnssoul @rjsmochii @halesandy @vicki1031 @peachyjk97 @therapysides @rinkud @pb-n-juju @teti-menchon0604 @jay-fireheart @bjoriis @fancycollectormoon @yoonabeo
message me to be added on the taglist
#bts fanfic#papercuts#bts fluff#bts smau#bts college au#bts college smau#bts fanfiction#jungkook fanfiction#bts angst#jungkook fluff#bts funny#bts memes#bts x reader#taehyung#bts jimin#bts namjoon#bts v#bts oneshot#bts one shot#bts imagine#bts smau college#bts social au#bts scenarios#jungkook scenarios#jungkook oneshot#jungkook fake texts#jungkook fanfic#bts series#jungkook series
252 notes
·
View notes
Note
Jim! I forgot to say I ship you with Jim. He is your designated silly man ^^
JIM!! Thank you XD 💚💚💚
Oh, this made me realise I have been neglecting him a little while I've been hyperfocused on Callahan (I have already written 3 fics for him. It took me months to write the first for Jim 😅😅 Its just the teacher kink thing I swear, Jim will always be my favourite) and the Titanic!! So I had to write this XD I hope you like it too!
Jim Bickerman x Fem!Bartender!Reader || Drabble
Plot: You're just working your shift at the bar like usual, a regular Thursday night with Jim keeping you company on the other side of the bar, when someone you serve slips you something you didn't ask for back... Luckily Jim's got your back.
Warnings: Use of a date rape drug/roofie, talk of head achiness and a vomit mention. Also unedited.
Tagging: @masqueradeball
A glass slips from your fingers and smashes against the ground; cascading across the wood in every which direction. The heel of your hand moves heavily straight to knead your forehead and you groan,; closing your eyes. God, you suddenly have the worse headache... and you're so sleepy...
Did you really drink that much??... you think, trying to recall but struggling to even think through the fog in your brain. You usually drink a little bit with the customers, but not nearly enough to... ah... hurts...
"Fuck," You breath, breathing slowly. And you hear a familiar voice close by, but suddenly everything around you is starting to get blurry. The noises shift and slip away from you- moulding into one. A horrible throbbing inside your head.
Theirs a hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you into the bar and another low voice speaking slowly to you. Something something... it's all going to be okay, something else... come on, I'll look after you. Vaguely you recognise it as a stranger, someone you don't know, suspicious- but you're not strong enough to pull your arm away from him. Somewhere in you theirs a voice screaming not but you give one slow nod anyway, giving the okay because you just want to get rid of this headache (A migraine??)- when another presence appears right by you on your side of the bar.
He's close enough that you recognise the rumbling voice of Jim and immediately relax a bit, leaning into his side to stay up on your feet- his voice is far too low for you to gather what he's saying, though. A moment after his voice disappears again- the strangers hand releases you.
His arm wraps around your waist to further hold you up, as your legs are starting to feel weaker and weaker (Or your body is getting heavier and heavier?? God you're so confused... ow... ) and when you turn to rest more securely against his chest he takes your jaw in his hand and guides your face upwards. "Open up your eyes there, sweetheart."
Now that, you heard. Forcing yourself, you manage to crack your eyelids open and see him frowning at you as he takes a glance at your pupils. His own jaw is set and looks really unhappy. "Jim I- I think ate somethin bad... " You mutter to him, confiding in him since he's here now- he'll look after you. You know it. You're safe now.
~
"Jim I- I think I ate somethin bad... " You mumble into his shoulder after he lets your face go and he shakes his head; feeling grim and pissed off as he watches darkly from under the brim of his hat as the weasel who had his hand on you slip right outta the bar- alive. (Of all the nights to not have a gun on me... )
"... Nup, that's not it, sugar." He tells you, glowering at the door now that the bastard is gone. Jim knows he isn't a gold class citizen himself - not by any means. He's done plenty he's not proud of and even more that he is proud of even though he shouldn't be, because he managed to see a pretty check from the deal, - but anyone who does somethin' like this actually deserves to be thrown to fucken crocs. "C'mon, lets getcha some water."
"Mmm, noo, I feel too sick... "
"Thats why you're gettin water, sweetheart. It tastes like junk, trust me I get it but I promise its good for ya."
Frowning like the cutest little drugged up girl, you crack your pretty eyes open again and look up to plead with him. Using up all your energy. "I'll throw up!"
He smirks, he cant help it- you're too sweet. "Little bit a' vomit ain't gonna scare me off. Lets findya a seat."
Taking a deep breath, you give a nod and then hide back in his shoulder- the lights in this bar are too bright and the world is spinning. And the music is too loud and everyone's voices are too loud and the other bartender still shaking up cocktails is too loud... ughhhh...
Jim guides you to a backroom in the bar, which is slightly quieter with the door closed, and sits you down in a ratty old couch before grabbing you a big glass of cold water for you to sip before stepping back- but you tug at his flannel when he tries to step away and he listens; sitting down beside you and letting you curl back into him. "Sweetheart I gotta call 911 now... "
"Do it here with me." Everything still hurts, everything still aches, and vaguely you're aware that this was done to you-- but Jim makes you feel safe, and his flannel is soft, and you need him. "Please."
Luckily he's more then happy to stick by you, nodding and sneaking your phone from your pocket (he doesn't have one) to use with his good hand; squeezing you comfortingly with his hook-arm. "Alright, ehem-- uh, what's the number again??... "
You don't need to look up to groan at him for that wrong-place-wrong-time joke, and his grin goes wider hearing it. (She's still in there, she's okay. She's fine.) "Jimmm... "
Quickly dialing (as fast as he can with one hand), he puts the phone to his ear and blows hair out his cheeks, nervously. Calling this number should be second nature at this point, but when its for you and not himself, the anxiety comes racin' back. (Goddamnit.) "I know sweetheart, I know. Hold on, it wont be long. We'll getcha help and you'll be jussst fine... "
('Miss Sheriff Reba' is gonna get a hell of a report in the morning, that's for fucken sure.)
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay I just finished reading Alabasta and here are my thoughts!!!
Okay I see why people like Vivi so much, and also why people ship her with Nami, they are extremely cute. Reading about her in fic I was a little like 'idk why people consider her part of the crew so much if she's not with them??' but no I get it now I love her. I'm gonna miss her!!
Usopp!!!! Had so many cool parts!!!!! He's really a very slapstick character and I'm impressed they got him in live action as well as they did even tho I think he was the most changed one. I loved his bit with the hammer, and also the flashback where Nami was getting him to make the climate staff..... where you see him building the hammer before hand!!
Zoro going into a fight like 'cool this'll be a great chance to learn to cut steel' HOW IS HE SO COOL AND ALSO RIDICULOUS and also is this observation haki?? Perhaps???? Idk idk. Also I want an AU where Zoro ate the sword fruit I'm just saying
Chopper is so good and any time any of the crew is interacting with him is so good. Love Zoro scrubbing his fur in the bath!!!!!
Okay so Crocodile is literally just Captain Hook with all the Crocs and the clock shots and the hook, does this make Luffy Peter Pan? Because accurate tbh
Also rip bird guy you were so cool bird guy idk your name but I love your style
Also all their outfits were so cute this arc!!! Esp Luffy!!!!! I wanna draw himmmm
I fucking love the den den mushis and also the running gag with them and Sanji, good stuff. I kept forgetting who was and wasn't with the group so when he called while everyone else was stuck in the cage I was like OH RIGHT lmao
The Supersonic Duck Squad are absolutely not making it into live action but I love them and also their new camel buddy SO MUCH
ALSO shout-out to Smoker omg I now see why people were so excited about the teaser at the end of opla, although I def agree with my sister that 'he is going to invent new kinds of lung cancer' lmao
There is so much more politics than I expected there to be in one piece!!!! The diagrams of where all the different factions were at all the different times were EXTREMELY necessary
okay so I knew from fic that Robin just sort of shows up on the ship and Luffy is like 'yeah sure you can join our crew'. NOT ONE PERSON MENTIONED THE MUTUAL LIFESAVING BEFOREHAND!!!!! SHE SAVED HIM AND HE SAVED HER AND THEIR FATES ARE ALIGNED SHE HAS THROWN IN HER LOT WITH THEIRS!!!! Like idk what her deal is but I'm willing to see where this goes!!!!!
#one piece#reading op#lori chat#and now skypiea I guess????#genuinely i thought that arc was much later but i guess im 200+ chapters in!!!
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
3. Eating Together - 🦘👓
Selfindulgent September Prompts
When I bit into the little charred lizard skewered on my stick, it tasted fatty and chewy. Not bad. It was a ‘New Mexico Whiptail,’ according to a nature book I’d flipped through in Tuefort’s library once. Mick had piked it for us to roast and eat, as casually as he would kill a man. I found that oddly romantic.
My eyes flickered up to watch him from across the campfire, the bright, orange flames dancing shadows on his face as he ate. The absence of his nigh-omnipresent aviators left it plainly bare. I understood there was a significance to that. Humming, I tore out another chunk of my Whiptail lizard kebab, tilting my vision further, skyward.
Tonight, the full moon was pale and fat, radiant. The sunset had bled red into dusk, bruised into purple into darkening, indigo night, stars twinkling icily.
“It’s so lovely out here,” I said breathlessly. And I meant it, too, fruitlessly craning my neck to see, to devour it. His sharp gaze pinpricked into me then.
“You won’t find a sky like that in the city,” Mick claimed, almost proudly. “Tastes good?”
“Mhm,” I answered, nodding. It did. “Y’know, the way it was scurrying about, I barely noticed it, ‘til…”
“Won’t stay still like a croc,” he said, and gestured with his lizard. “Fast little buggers, these ones.” Mick cleaned the morsel off his stick, victorious.
I blinked owlishly. “You’ve hunted crocodiles before?”
Now, this had piqued my interest. Hadn’t I caught sight of teeth hung around his neck? He was grinning a little, one sharp, pointed canine poking out. But when I turned back to him, he quickly looked away. Mick’s eyes were blue - watchful and keen.
“Ah, yeah,” he scratched his cheek. The heat of the licking fire kept the chill from seeping in, beating back the encroaching rim of black desert waste. Still, I inched towards him, and felt warmer. “Back home, you have to sort of… S’bit of a long story.”
I shuffled again. My curiosity had overtaken me.
It had been months for months since we’d first spoken down the phone, and I still didn’t know nearly as much about Mick as I would’ve liked. I was aware of the fancy we shared, baking slow under the vivid New Mexico sun… He was patient, and so was I.
“There’s also those marshmallows in the van…” I hesitated, suddenly bashful. I felt myself grow warmer still. “If you don’t mind telling me?”
And his smile told me that he didn’t.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Azalin Reviews: King Crocodile
Domain Formation: 658 BC
Power Level: 💀💀⚫⚫⚫ (2/5 skulls)
Sources: Islands of Terror (2e), Ravenloft (3e)
Today I am reviewing King Crocodile, the Darklord of the Wildlands. The Dark Powers really jumped the shark (or perhaps the crocodile) with this one, but I am a completist so I will reluctantly review this “King”.
I’m not sure how this particular Crocodile received the title of “King” in the first place. It definitely was not a title passed down through royal blood as it should be. Right of conquest, perhaps? Though he did not take any land over, just bullied a lot of other animals and called himself a “King”. I’ve decided to call him “Croc” for the rest of this review. I’m sure he won’t mind.
Croc lived in the swamps of a tropical rainforest rich with animal life and completely cut off from human society. There he was the biggest and meanest beast of them all, though that amounts to little more than a big fish in a small pond. He was a rotten egg from the start, killed and ate his own parents and brethren and continued on to kill any animal foolish enough to find themselves on his path. They even say he was so evil that the water he swam through became putrid just from his touch.
All of the animals joined forces in their hatred and fear of Croc. If they all attacked him together, they likely could have easily defeated him…but instead they had a parrot fly off and ask for the “hairless apes” to defend them. Instead of defeating Croc for them, the hairless apes did their normal thing and hunted the animals of the jungle and destroyed their homes with fire and axe.
This, in the mind of these creatures, left them only one option and they begged Croc to kill the hairless apes. He agreed, if the animals all gave him a bit of their power. One by one, each animal gave him their power and he was granted the speed, cunning, and fierceness of them all. Well, all but the fly and the snake. The snake, seeing the folly in the plan, refused to partake and the Croc thought it beneath him to take anything from a lowly fly.
Croc did kill all the hairless apes, but when the animals asked for their gifts back, he refused, then slew and ate them all until he was too full to even move. That was when the snake came to him and told him that he would die from either a hairless ape or from something he thought was beneath him.
Was the snake one of the Dark Powers agents? I think it likely, as moments after the snake’s prophecy, Croc and all the animals that aided him were taken by the Mists. Croc’s Domain is much like his original land, but not a single snake lives there. Croc continues to call himself the King of this jungle and devours any and all that cross him or just happen to be near him when he’s hungry (which is always). He lives in fear of the snake’s prophecy and is quick to destroy any hairless ape that stumbles into his Domain, yet it seems that it is the fly that will be his true end. For he has been bitten many times by the lowly creatures and has succumbed to the sleeping sickness and is slowly dying.
A dying, oversized lizard that thinks himself a King. I think this one would have made a better pair of shoes than a Darklord. Still he is “King” of his particular Domain.
#King Crocodile#The Wildlands#Ravenloft#darklordreviews#azalin rex#I honesty really love this Darklord but there's no way Azalin wouldn't be sassy about him
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
Not bothering with anon, LOL.
Hit us with some Vector headcanons. Bonus points if you think any of them are unique ones not a lot of people share with you!
Vector isn't his birth name he changed it to that when he got to the city
He taught himself to talk through media, hench the outdated slang and speech patterns (I did the same and apparently had an American accent when I was a toddler)
He's on the ASC spectrum and gets sensory overload easily due to his crocodilian hearing and the loud noises city's come with...hence the headphones. He often blasts one song repeatedly to drown all but immediate sounds out, but obviously some days they're off.
He'd met Espio in passing a few times before the events of Knuckles Chaotix
Doesn't admit to himself he is Charmys Dad since he's only 20 and has a lot of stuff going on, but he is
Often does overnight shifts on building sites or in warehouses around when rent is due
Can skip meals but lies about it to charmy saying he ate while I plated his food, Espio knows. Its's not ideal but chewing the Gum Helps
Vector gets new teeth pretty regularly since he's a croc and Charmy gives them all to the tooth fairy as a get rich quick scheme
Vectors never actually met another crocodile before and will come up with flat out lied about traditions, sayings and gestures to charmy. It will be the best day of his life when the bee finally meets one
Loves singing along to the radio. Him and charmy know all the jingles
Being 20 he still really loves going out and enjoying the nightlife, even if he has chosen a more domestic lifestyle. If a case has an opportunity to go out he'll jump on it in a heartbeat
Vector smokes and theirs always box in a locked draw in his desk for the end of an incredibly stressful day/case.
Vector and Espio are the king's of inventing silly little games like what people did in the lockdown. Both very competitive too
#sth#authorleaandres#seagull squawks#idk if this is what you wanted#i obviously have more#how many points did i earn UwU
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
12/14
SO !!! as you guys know i missed my math exam and had to take it with M. and when i got there M already had everything all set up for me lol, my test laying perfectly centered on the desk, a sharpened pencil, a scratch piece of paper. all laid out right next to his desk. THATS RIGHT, HE HAD ME SIT NEXT TO HIM THE ENTIRE TIME SO HE COULD WATCH ME. forty-fucking-five minutes of M’s undivided attention. i felt like a princess. when i finished, he looked it over, frowned, and asked if i was confident in my work. i shook my head and looked down at my lap because i was scared my voice would wobble and i’d cry. he picked up my pencil and asked if i wanted help, to which i practically nodded my head off. it was very sweet and i was hoping for maybe a small moment of intimacy, a brief touch, a fleeting glance with emotion locked away somewhere, anything really, but i’m grateful i even got to be near him for so long. he doesn’t wear cologne i don’t think, he just smells like musk but in the best way possible. he ate a yogurt for lunch and asked if i was hungry. i told him i don’t typically eat until i get home for dinner and he shook his finger at me. we also had matching outfits on ! i had on a creme sweater, blue jeans, and my docs and he had a white sweatshirt, blue jeans, and his docs ! i don’t think he noticed but i did and i thought it was soooo romantic and all that sappy stuff like fate.
but this also means no G update :( i really wanna talk to him. i just want to impress him like it’s hard to explain but i want him to think i’m some untouchable cool girl that’s way above all the other students, if that makes sense. like i want him to want to be my friend because he finds me so cool and special and unlike anyone else. which i know probably sounds a little crazy and maybe doesn’t make sense but i just want him to give me attention that he doesn’t give to other students. i want us to have a relationship that only we understand. i want him to see me, and start a conversation first.
i did see J today ! been so long lol. he was wearing his rainbow crocs today. my 5th period is right across from his and the morocco and french game was going on and you could hear him screaming about it, which i found devastatingly adorable.
i’m still confused on how i feel about L. because i saw him in a bereal again today and i just don’t feel physically attracted to him ! but i feel attracted to him every other way ? i’m not sure what’s going on and it’s driving me positively insane.
#xi’s diary#female student#male teacher crush#male teacher x female student#student x teacher#tc blog#tc community#tc feelings#tc love#teacher crush#teacher x student#male tc#teacher crush community#tc confessions
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Y’all I totally forgot it was Wednesday, but I didn’t come empty handed! No answers, of course, just a peek back into dinner while Danny’s off committing Crimes 😏
————-
Jason really wished he could just focus on having a good time with his family. The food was, as always, exquisite, and Sam and Tucker were moaning happily along with the others.
It smelled great. It looked great. It tasted great, but something in the back of Jason’s head just wouldn’t switch off.
Not until Danny came back.
Even the thought that Danny might be in danger while he just ate dinner sat like a lead weight in his stomach.
The expanded aura… well. It kind of helped? Being practically choked by Danny’s presence, aware in every pore of his skin that Danny was there, was fine, wasn’t hurting, did help.
It just. Made it impossible to really think about anything else.
He was barely following the conversation, just reading the intricacies of Danny’s mood changes and losing track of sentences as people said them.
Finally, finally, Danny’s aura shifted again.
<<Done-got him-no big deal-coming back>>.
Jason almost sagged in his seat, shoulders unknotting marginally (they probably wouldn’t finish until he could see Danny and prove he was fine).
Sent <<impatient-relieved-happy-hurry back>> as well as he could, and nearly dropped his fork at the warm swell of <<affection> he received in return.
Well.
<<Affection-amused-teasing>>.
Clearing his throat, Jason did his best to will away the heat along the back of his neck. Nope, he wasn’t gonna blush when Danny wasn’t even here to look at him while smothering him in those feelings.
And it was definitely just the pit curling up into a little buzzing ball of happiness in his chest. Definitely not actually Jason melting like snow under a blow torch.
Whatever.
Danny was fine, he’d be back soon and Alfred had saved them both plates. And sure, maybe something in Jason wouldn’t unclench until he could see Danny in person, but letting Alfred’s cooking go cold was a sin.
He dug into his still steaming plate, forcing his shoulders to relax a little. Tucker and Tim were still talking about tech, currently disparaging what GIW thought were elite security measures.
Harley had lured Sam, Duke, and Cass into a discussion of her new place in Coney Island at the other end of the table, and yeah, Jason could get interested in that.
Someone might have already asked, but hey. He waited for a convenient pause and leaned in.
“Didn’t Croc move down there with you? He and Riddler attacked the gala last night,” he explained when Harley made a curious noise, head cocking to one side.
Her brow furrowed, so apparently the others hadn’t gotten this far yet. Not sure if he was glad or gonna tease them mercilessly later.
“He what? Yeah, he moved in, but he came back this way ta keep me company as I came up here. Someone’s tryin’ ta give me a hard time cuzza my criminal record, an’ they’re gettin’ intel from one of your local problems,” she added with a shrug, waving her hand.
Cuz yeah, that was also on the list; she’d been up with Ivy, neither of them noticeably causing trouble before apparently Ida Manson got them out of town.
Cass made a small noise of concern and Harley patted her hand, grinning.
“Oh, don’t you worry about me doll, it’s all under control. Thought it might be Pengy havin’ another go at my spot but he burst into tears when I walked in so it’s prob’ly not him,” she said with a very self satisfied smile.
Jason chuckled softly because… yeah, he could picture that. It tracked.
“Smart man,” Duke agreed with a snicker and Harley gave him a fist bump.
“Yeah, I’ll run ‘em down. But why was Waylon at the gala? He jus’ said he was gonna look inta some shit while I was gone,” Harley asked, looking around the table for an answer.
Jason shrugged.
“All their demands were for Harvey Dent. Apparently he was planning to make a run and they beat him to the punch,” he explained, in as much as he understood.
If no one else had a hand on Dent by tonight, he miiiight stretch one of his Red Hood patrols out of Crime Alley to go for a look see.
The man missed his party. The least Jason could do was pay a personal visit.
“Croc mentioned Jason,” Cass noted with a small frown, looking up at him with concern.
And, yeah, that was the other reason he was thinking of getting involved. He couldn’t imagine what the fuck he’d done as a civvie to annoy Dent.
Harley huffed, blowing blonde bangs off her face and lacing her fingers, pointing at Jason.
“Okay, so we gotta go talk to Waylon tomorrow and find out what’s goin’ on. He’s comin’ with me back to Coney when the time comes so he ain’t got time for Arkham,” she said firmly, and something settled in Jason’s gut.
Waylon had so badly wanted the Red Hood not to turn out like he had; another criminal permanently trapped in the system. Yeah, he’d like to return the favour.
Of course, not everyone in the room was up on all the secrets. Sam leaned forward, breaking her quiet streak that as far as Jason knew was her longest ever.
“Wait, you’re going to break that guy out of jail? He wanted to strap a bomb vest to Jason,” she said harshly, finally snapping Tim and Tucker out of their little happy world.
Jason raised both hands.
“He didn’t succeed.” Much as Danny had freaked out about it, Jason wasn’t gonna complain about things that hadn’t happened.
Too much like it actually happened every day, he’d never be done.
Oh. Maybe that was kinda why Danny had freaked out. That probably wasn’t good.
His personal revelation was dampened by Harley waving a hand easily.
“Nah nah nah, we’re not gonna break ‘im out tomorra. He’s gonna tell us what the fuck he was thinkin’, I’m gonna break Dent’s kneecaps, and Batsy’s gonna give a character statement an’ get ‘im released to me for community service.”
And if any of that didn’t work, they could still just break Croc out the next day. Jason knew the unspoken corollary.
Tucker’s eyebrows raised and he said the very stupidest thing that Jason had ever heard from a genius, and he’d seen Tim on 72 hours of no sleep.
“You know Batman?” He asked incredulously.
Harley stared at him for a long moment. Then snickered.
“Yeah, we know each other from work,” she said dryly, waving her fork, “we go way back.”
The assorted bats snickered to themselves and Tucker sunk back in his chair a little, grinning sheepishly around the table.
“Yeah… sorry.”
Sam rolled her eyes, arms folded as she frowned down the table. She clearly had a bigger question, which was probably fair for anyone who didn’t know the combined Harley-and-bats history.
“And you think Batman will do you a favour? He’s not exactly known to listen to reason,” she pointed out half sarcastically. Not that anyone in the room would argue.
There was a reason Jason loved her.
Harley weighed her up for a moment, then grinned, leaning forward.
“Y’know, kid, I don’t think we were introduced. There’s somethin’ real familiar about you,” she mused, folding her arms on the table and leaning over them, plate slowly nudged aside.
Sam smirked and shrugged. They were meeting a lot of new people these past couple days, but if she’d been doing the gala circuit her whole life?
Yeah, this probably wasn’t the worst. Harley was better than Jason had ever met at a party.
“Sam Manson. Friend of Jason’s through Danny,” she added with a nod to the empty seat still between her and Jason.
Harley beamed, hiking forward onto the table a little more.
“Oh, you’d be Ida’s granddaughter then?” She asked brightly, clearly pleased to have been right. “Your granny’s a real doll, sent me and Ivy on a real sweet vacation this week.”
Sam chuckled softly and nodded, giving Harley a half apologetic half cocky smile.
“Yeah, that’d be my fault. I’m not allowed to come to Gotham if there’s a chance Poison Ivy is in town,” she explained, fingers on her left hand tapping against her right arm.
Both of Harley’s brows went up.
“Oh? Are they scared somethin’ might happen to ya?” She asked, tone already very firmly suggesting she knew the answer.
So did most of the rest of the table, though Duke hadn’t actually heard the explanation last night. Not like he needed to, having met Sam for more than five minutes.
Sam didn’t disappoint. She gave another elegant half shrug, her smile turning fully dark.
“Oh, more the opposite. They think I’ll run off and join her if I see her,” she said innocently. Across the table, Tucker snorted most of a laugh.
A moment later Harley joined him, tossing her head back and laughing.
“Yeah, that sounds like Ida’s girl,” she agreed, wiping a dainty tear from her eye, “she was a real spitfire in her younger days, the stories she told Ivy when they were protestin’ together were wild.”
Sam was practically glowing with pride, and Jason had to admit that he would kinda like to meet her grandmother. He’d met her parents, and… well, maybe awesome skipped a generation.
Harley suddenly stopped, head cocking as she noticed something, a sly smile creeping across her face.
“So if they think you’ll run away with Ivy… whadda they think’ll happen if ya run into me?” She asked with a delicately studied innocence, examining her nails.
“Only good things,” Cass offered, grinning past Jason at Sam. Sam grinned back, giving Harley a shrug and a similarly innocent smile.
“Y’know, they’ve just never mentioned it. Clearly there’s no concerns there,” she agreed, and Jason snickered, raising his glass in a toast.
“None here,” he noted and Sam laughed, clinking her glass against his. Dick raised a hand, fighting a laugh.
“One concern for the integrity of Bruce’s skull?” He offered innocently, and laughed when Jason threw a napkin at him.
“If Bruce’s skull was gonna break it’d have done it years ago,” Steph opined as the voice of experience. Jason raised his glass to her too, but she was a little far to clink.
She grabbed hers up and raised it back anyway, and Sam filled the gap, clinking hers to Jason’s and then to Steph’s to pass it on.
“It’s good for him ta get his eggs scrambled,” Harley agreed from the other end of the table, raising her glass too, “and I’m gonna guess you did some percussive maintenance too that I’ll ask about later.”
“Bruce might still have a concussion,” Duke offered, not completely certain where he sat with this kind of joking, but the kid was new.
You had to watch Bruce try and kill himself going out on patrol with more bones broken than whole a couple times before you gave into his indestructibility.
Shit, maybe he should ask Danny if Bruce was liminal. For all the guy was technically a default human, Jason knew literal aliens with a better grasp on humanity.
And ghosts, now.
Harley gave him a nod anyway and patted his hand.
“I’ll aim low then sugar, don’t you fret. But to answer yer other question, Sam, Batman’s gonna get Waylon out for me cuz he doesn’t want ‘im in Arkham any more ‘n we do. Bats wants us all ta get better, and Waylon does best left alone,” she explained with a shrug.
“Until you leave him unsupervised and he teams up with Riddler?” Tim asked with a slight smile.
Jason shook his head, leaning forward on his arms too.
“He wouldn’t do it for no reason. He asked what I’d done to upset Two Face, but I can’t think of anything.” They didn’t even cross paths often.
Dent had taken Red Hood’s claim on Crime Alley as a given, learned quickly that Jason didn’t give a shit about playing nice, and minded his business.
“You sound like you know him pretty well,” Tucker said with a slight frown, and Jason shrugged.
Yeah, Tucker wasn’t in on the Robin thing yet. Luckily there was an easy answer.
“I grew up in Gotham. You guys keep coming back and you’ll get a feel for most of ‘em too.”
Tucker hesitated for a moment, probably thinking back to Amity and their own ghostly rogues. Then he nodded, settling back to poke at his mostly finished plate.
Tim still didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t know Waylon the way Jason did. They’d never had the chance to talk beyond the usual Robin-and-Rogue.
Jason could prove his point tomorrow. Maybe bring Danny along.
And like the thought summoned him, Jason’s phone buzzed to a text from Danny.
‘DannyP: who tf is Constantine??👀👀🤣’
————
Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion
(I see some of y’all got your search problem fixed hello!!!!)
#danny fenton dead and loving it#wip wednesday#chapter 11#shit this might be the longest fic i ever done did#so much to do this chapter i’m actually thinking things through#where to fix where to focus#so many good options no bad ones#but yes the fenton thermos is going to feature 😏#bet y’all thought i forgot the rogue attack like it was lf#vlad#but i didn’t
155 notes
·
View notes
Note
(Tw for blood and mild body horror..? Idk if I need to do tws or not)
A week or two later, Clef walks into Malmo’s office with a covered dish.
“Dr. Alto Clef!” Malmo greeted, smiling nervously, “I do hope this interaction won’t involve that shotgun of yours!”
“It won’t,” he deadpanned. He set the dish down. He lifted it, and underneath was a platter of food. Malmo wiped drool from their mouth, looking at him.
“What’s the meaning of this? You know I love a good meal—“
“Yeah. I do. Which is why, in exchange for this, you’re going to tell me how you knew that 166 is my daughter. I know Kathy didn’t tell you,” he drawled.
They paused, took a bite, then moaned at the taste.
“Fuck it, this is good enough for that info.”
Clef leaned over the desk, hat low over his eyes.
“How did you know I had a daughter,” he growled. They shrugged.
“You’re bugged.”
Clef scoffed.
“Nah. I would know if there was a mic on me.”
“All of those things are wrong,” they said, taking a large bite of their food. They swallowed, then shuddered all over.
Clef furrowed his brows.
“So there isn’t a mic on me.”
“Nope, and nope.”
“…what do you mean ‘and nope?’”
They tilted their head.
“There isn’t a mic, and it’s not on you.”
Clef’s hand twitched, wanting to reach for his shotgun. Malmo sighed.
“Okay, how freaked out are you going to get? Because this food fucking smacks, and I don’t want to have to consume all that you are. Especially— oh, you and Konny are so cute together, by the way! When are you two going to go public with that?”
“Back on topic,” he said, flushed. Malmo nodded.
“So, uh. How freaked out will you be?”
“I’m already a bit freaked out, so if you would cut the shit-“
“Speaking of that! I’ll need to uh, make a small incision—“
Clef pulled a knife from his crocs and drove the blade into the desk.
“There.”
Malmo awkwardly pulled the knife out of the table. They took Clef’s arm, and made a little cut.
“It’ll take a little bit,” they said awkwardly, “so while we wait, why don’t we do some deep breathing exercises to keep our tempers under control?”
Clef’s eye twitched.
“Believe me, my temper is— fuck!”
Malmo looked sheepish, nibbling at the plate of food. Clef ground his teeth in pain.
“What is this!?!”
“Just… Deep breaths. It should be at your shoulder by now? Ah! There’s the boy!”
Clef grunted with pain. A thick lump moved his arm, under the skin.
“What the fuck,” he gasped, “what the fuck.”
A fat white worm crawled from his wound. Malmo scooped it up with a bite of food, and ate it.
“See,” they said, “I told you you were bugged.”
Clef let out a hysterical little laugh.
“What the fuck?”
“I’m… Mostly worms.”
“You’re not Dr. Malmo, are you?”
Malmo chuckled.
“Just the skin. And lungs. And brain. And some nerves but it’s… hard to tell at times, you know? I’m glad you’re taking this so well!”
Clef raised his shotgun.
“Hey, put that down! Or-“ Malmo paused, “or I’ll start saying really mean things! About you! And your relationships with people!”
Clef put down the shotgun. Malmo smiled.
“That worm was positively gorged on serotonin and oxytocin, by the way. Konny must really make you happy, oh, that’s so adorable!”
Clef stared at his arm, teeth grit.
“Yeah. Fuckin peachy.”
“We should do lunch more often! Like, make it a thing!”
-Brainworms anon
Clef now feels like he has worms on his arms every time he remembers this and he feels disgusted gearjihjg
1 note
·
View note
Text
Ch.110 - The Rileys - Part 2
Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter
The evening of sightseeing didn't go as planned. Both Kiera and Simon enjoyed their room service around four in the evening, looking like a teenage couple as they ate their food on the bed while they watched television, then changing into something more comfortable while they put on a movie to pass away the time until Kiera had fallen asleep on the ridiculously comfortable bed, even slightly snoring a few times to satisfy Simon's reason to laugh.
Once eight o'clock rolled around, Kiera's eyes fluttered open to slowly focus on the view of the Eifel Tower from their room's window. For a moment, she wondered how she got there and if it were a dream, draping her elbow over her eyes before she slowly sat up, seeing an empty space next to her. "Simon?"
"I'm over here, love," He responded from the balcony, the sliding glass door still slid open while a short glass of bourbon pinched between his thumb and index finger. "Rest well?"
"I did," She hummed. "How long have you been up?"
"Around an hour. I just got off the phone with your mum to check on the kids. She told me that Evie is starting to babble more and thinks she might talk soon."
"Really?!"
"Sure is. I hope her first word is dad." He poked.
"Of course you do," She giggled. "Where'd you get bourbon from?"
"Complementary with the room, love. I like this town already."
She smiled as she joined her husband on the balcony, taking a seat next to him on the bench and crossing her legs while his free arm snaked around her shoulders while her head slowly lulled to lay on his shoulder, enjoying his warmth. "When do you want to go out?"
"Whenever you want to," He chuckled, turning his head to place a kiss against her hairline before taking the last sip of his bourbon, setting the now empty glass on the side table. "What did you have in mind?"
"Well, I was going to sneak out and go gallivanting on my own while I raise your blood pressure while in search of me and then enjoy my punishment once you did find me." She teased, smiling at the glare Simon shot at her.
"I'd prefer you not."
"Why not?"
"Love, a woman like you doesn't go unnoticed. I'd prefer you to not be alone in a city like this."
"Wouldn't it be fun, though? To play a friendly little game of hide n' seek?"
"Not in this place," He scoffed. "That's just trouble waiting to happen, love."
"I'm just playin', babe."
"I know. You can't hold a straight face when you're toying with me."
"You're right, I can't."
"Whenever your pretty little heart desires, I'm ready."
"Well, I wouldn't mind sitting here for a few more minutes," She hummed, rubbing her left hand against his sternum. "Just enjoying the view with you."
"Great minds think alike, love," He chuckled, rubbing his thumb against her shoulder. "Although I wouldn't mind trying out that Hell's Kitchen restaurant."
"I've heard it's really good," She nodded. "Kristen said she and her boyfriend ate there when they came to Vegas a few years ago."
"Your friend seems like the reserved type," He chuckled. "That surprises me."
"She is reserved, but she's smarter than me, that's for sure. She has a good guy now - she deserves it."
"She does."
"Do we have to make reservations for a restaurant like that?"
"I'll find out."
"Okay, well while you're doing that, I'll go ahead and get ready."
"Wear something comfortable, love." He reminded her, reaching his right hand in front of him to playfully tap her rear as she walked by.
"If I do that, I'll look homeless at a fancy ass restaurant."
"I'd rather you be comfortable and look homeless than be in something displeasing for you, love."
"But I want to look good for my husband-"
"You can wear a garbage bag and I'd still look at you the same, Kiera." He assured her, his heart swelling at the genuine smile she flashed back at him at his truth.
He was serious.
If she wanted to wear sweatpants and one of his shirts and a pair of Crocs, she'd still be just as beautiful.
If she wanted to wear a fitting red dress with heels, she'd still look the exact same to him, except he'd offer to carry her shoes for her when her feet began to hurt.
Her true beauty was within her in his eyes - the way she was beyond a great mother to their children, the way she was genuine and caring to the people she loved, but was as stone cold as Simon himself was when it came to work, the way she subtly put herself before her husband and children, the way she accepted Baler as her own the second she took him in. Everything about her was perfect in Simon's eyes.
He just wished she'd see what he saw in her.
With a subtle nod, she proceeded into the room in search of her suitcase, looking through the various folded clothes in search of an outfit she would wear. Although she wanted to wear something comfortable, she was really driven to wear something flattering - something to keep spark in her husband's eyes.
Finding the dress he had never seen before that she and Kristen picked out, her smile grew as she rushed to the bathroom with the dress and her toiletry bag, eager to doll herself up for the evening.
(^ Picture for reference - I think this dress is just so cute and of course I found a picture of a flattering mini dress with Blake Lively, which is the visualization of Kiera's character, so I thought it was perfect!)
After she had pulled her hair into a half up/half down style, she smiled to herself as she decorated her ears with subtle diamond studs before putting on mascara and eyeliner - a simple "face of makeup" that made her feel beautiful.
Even though she didn't need it.
Slipping on a pair of nude heels to compliment the dress, she looked herself over one more time before turning towards the door, gasping at the realization that Simon was standing there, and had been standing there since she had put earrings on.
She blushed when she noticed a gleam in his eyes when they stayed fixated on her. "Love, you look delightful." He breathed, stepping closer to place his palms on her hips, startled that she was almost eye level with him with her heels.
"Thank you," She smiled. "Too much?"
"Oh, not at all. I've got my work cut out for me, that's for sure."
"Hm, how so?"
"You look like a model, sweetheart. I better wear something nice to look like I'm in the same tax bracket as you." He teased, resisting the urge to place a kiss to her forehead.
"I'm a long way from being a model, babe-"
"Far above it, you mean."
"Always talking down, love," He shook his head. "I'm going to start getting ready. While I'm doing that, why don't you go and get my phone and look at the photos your mum sent me of the twins because someone forgot to charge her phone." He winked.
*
The restaurant was busy, yet quiet. Luxury and affordability all in one place. Even though Kiera teased him about wanting to come to Hell's Kitchen was because its owner was British, she couldn't deny that the main course would be just as good, maybe better, than the entree.
Although the restaurant was something quite to look at, her eyes always seemed to fixate back to Simon - her husband - as he sat comfortably across from her, wearing a black silk dress shirt with no tie and matching slacks.
"Getting cheeky, are you?" He smirked from across the table, the steady glow from the candle sitting in the middle of the table highlighting his strong facial features. Although she wasn't able to notice her own subtle reaction, he took a deep breath of pending arousal at the sight of her sneaking a bit of her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked at him.
"I know no such thing," She blushed, breaking eye contact with him. "Just looking at you."
"I concluded that when you'd been staring at me for the past two minutes straight."
"Got a problem with that?" She giggled.
"Not at all, love," He huffed, a lust-engraved smirk threatening to smother his face. "I can tell you what I do have a problem with, though."
"And what's that?"
He sighed as he leant closer to the table, his dark eyes beaming at her with lust, "The fact that you have the audacity to sit here in front of me looking at me with that look in your eye and you're still wearing underwear."
She gulped at his sudden vulgarity, "M-My underwear?"
He smirked, "You heard me, love. Hand 'em over."
"W-What?" Her breath shuddered with excitement, looking around nervously as she hoped nobody would notice. Of course I'm going to obey him, she thought. He's my husband. I want to obey him!
And quite frankly, she enjoyed this new form of foreplay. "Give me your panties." He said sternly, his tone still low.
"R-Right now?"
He nodded.
She grinned nervously before looking around, taking another glance towards the kitchen to assure herself that their food wasn't coming out just as she was justifying Simon's request, his eyes dark with pleasure before she locked her gaze back to him, slowly putting her hands close to her hips and hooking her thumbs on the strap of her thong, slowly pulling them down her legs against her dress until they stopped at her knees, shifting her legs and making it appear that she was scratching her calf to continue riding them down towards her ankles, taking her left foot through before he suddenly said, "Give me your foot."
She grinned, raising her right foot until it stopped between his legs, his hands opening up under the table to cradle her ankle, the subtle chill from his tungsten wedding band pressing against the thin skin of her ankle as his right hand removed her thong from around her foot, stuffing them into the pocket of his slacks before gently letting her ankle go. "Is that dessert for later?" She giggled.
"Easier access, love."
"Is that right?" She smirked, arching her brow.
"You'll find out. That is, if you're up for it."
"I'm always up for you, babe."
"I'll take your word for it."
#simonghostriley#simonriley#simon riley#simon ghost riley#call of duty#callofduty#simon riley x oc#call of duty modern warfare 2#ghost riley#simon riley x og female
1 note
·
View note
Text
Wayside Chapel Daily Devotional 2nd March 2023
Morning
March 2
Numbers 11:4-6 4The rabble with them began to crave other food, and again the Israelites started wailing and said, "If only we had meat to eat! 5We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost–also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. 6But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but this manna!"
They started wailing again. It's easy to join a pity party. The rabble and troublemakers are always among us. They point people toward the temporal and not to Jesus, the eternal. They point to the things that you do not currently possess and not to the blessings at hand. They crave the things of the world and not the things of God.
Did the manna cost? Here they were with miraculous provision and they were whining for something more exotic. It would be hard to have the same meal day after day, and a miracle loses its awe to us when we see it daily. How we remember the good but not the bad! Their babies were fed to the crocs and their backs to the whips, but they want to go back for a nice dinner.
The real problem is that they are not hungry for God. Jesus said that He is the manna that comes down from heaven. They are tired of focusing on one thing. They'd like a little worldly diversion. It shows they had not grown spiritually, and though they were out of Egypt, Egypt was not out of them. Watch out for the allurement of the world. It promises its delicacies but neglects to tell you of the price you will pay for them or how short lived the satisfaction. The Promised Land has plenty to satisfy, but you must be prepared by learning to put first things first. Which will it be for you, forward, or backward?
Prayer: Lord, keep my heart satisfied with You, the true bread from heaven.
0 notes
Text
1/9/2023
Didn’t log anything on Sunday. It was a pretty laid back day, slept away most of it. Texted Al for his birthday.
Today I woke up at before 7 while everyone was getting ready. The dogs were whining and it woke Winnie up so she was popping her head up while eating and slamming it back down on my chest again. Brayden loudly watched TikTok’s until he headed out for school. I fell back asleep after everyone was gone.
Woke up again at about 9. Ate a quick snack and made pre-workout and then packed up my gym bag. I got Winnie dressed in her cute overalls outfit and headed toward the Y. I signed her into child watch and went upstairs. I did a lap around the upper part of the gym and then used the rowing machine for about 10 minutes. I walked on the treadmill for 20 minutes and then went back to the lockers. Mike called so I wandered around for a little talking to him and then I picked Winnie up to head home.
Got Winnie home and changed. I missed a call from my mom so I called her back and had a long FaceTime conversation about how her life was going, it was good. We chatted for a while about Mike and about moving. Mike called while I was talking to her because he needed to be sent money for a permit while he was out in Cincinnati. I sent it over and called him back when I got off the phone with my mom. We talked for a few minutes about work stuff and then Winnie woke up so I hopped off the phone again to feed her. Texted Chase that I would pick him up.
Brayden had volleyball at the Y planned for tonight so when I picked Chase up I decided to go to Walmart to get basketball shorts for the boys. Chase seemed to have a decent day at school. He got KitKats and a few other things at Walmart and I got goggles and a swim cap. When we got home Brayden had locked us out but came to the door pretty quick. I gave him the shorts and let him know we’d all be going to the Y later on.
I made some Indian chickpea and tomato stuff for myself for lunch and then started on dinner. I made baked potatoes, kielbasa and sauerkraut. Mike got home right as food was getting done. The kids didn’t like the sauerkraut and sausage but ate their potatoes, Mike asked for the rest of it to be packed up for lunch so I did. I also made chia pudding for later on.
Everyone got ready for the Y and after searching for and finding my purse, we started that way. I dropped Brayden off at the front and then parked with everyone else. I got Chase signed up for a card at the front and Brayden called to let us know volleyball was actually tomorrow so he was going to work out. We went upstairs to show Chase the equipment and walk laps. Chase just wanted to walk instead so we walked 10 laps with the baby and decided to head home. It was pretty busy and I think Chase and Mike were feeling a little burnt out.
Brayden asked again about sign ups for track and field so I said I would work on it when we got home. We pulled up in the driveway and Mike slammed the door as he got out, I have no idea what he was upset about but he seemed pretty unhappy. We got in the house and Mike and Chase took dogs out. I started on Brayden’s forms and when Mike got in he worked on laundry and played with the baby. It took about an hour to finish the forms and once I finished Mike headed upstairs to bed and so did Brayden.
Threw on Bob’s burgers, had some orange juice, fed the baby and wrote this so I can get some sleep.
I’m feeling burnt out so here are things I am grateful for. I stay home every day with the baby and get to work on myself. Our household is healthy. I got new knockoff crocs today and they are cozy. We have enough money to get by with a bit to spare. Noel is coming on Friday. Tax return forms will get here soon. My husband is kind and loving even when he’s frustrated. The kids didn’t fight me on chores today. Winnie had a very good day, she hardly cried at all. I am getting to know her better everyday.
Tomorrow I need to remind Mike to call the maintenance people and to check for a therapist for Chase. Brayden has volleyball.
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
astral-cataclysm
Existing Against My Will
smartcrutch
SmartCrutch USA
sawnat
*****
alemorenod
Ale.
largando
Untitled