#because why wouldn’t Danny tell him?
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[this is kind of a messy ramble, sorry about that]
Demon Twins AU, except Danny is loyal to the League.
The League of Assassins is a “cult” for a reason. They know what they’re doing. Ra’s has been around for a very long time; he’s seen every trick in the book and then some.
So when his daughter Talia gave him two, near-identical twin grandsons, he had already planned out their lives by the time the sun had set on their first day living. He knew the plans weren’t perfect. Nothing ever went exactly how he wanted it to. But that was the joy of being absolutely fucking ancient. Ra’s adapted better than anyone. If something went wrong, Ra’s will simply work around the issue and live to see another day.
So the boys were raised as he wished. Ruthless, with sharp blades and even sharper wit. They matched each other in every way, blow for blow. Neither won more than the other, and Ra’s encouraged the competition between the twins. Eventually, the battle for title of Heir came, and Damian won that particular match.
Danny was fine with this. Thrilled, even, for his brother to earn the title of Heir. The boys were very close, and worked well to take down targets twice their size. Ra’s approved this, and granted Danny title of Shadow. He was to be Damian’s eternal shadow, a guard. Both Talia and the boys were pleased with this.
But then came the time for the boys to learn how to live without each other. They’d gotten too used to someone guarding their back. Too complacent and too confident in their roles. Ra’s knew it would happen, and so sent Danny off at a very young age to live with some sleeper agents in America.
The Fentons.
Damian would stay here, with Talia, to learn how to be the perfect Heir. He needed to learn how to fight without the assistance of his brother.
Danny would go to Amity Park, and be fostered by the Fentons. He needed to put his skills to practical use and learn how to live without constant orders.
This was their Test.
Damian did quite well, for a while. Until Talia sent him off to his birth father, The Bat. Reports on his behavior declined in quality after that, and Ra’s couldn’t help but feel dissatisfaction with how the Heir had been corrupted.
Danny’s reports were always immaculate, however. His mask never slipped, and he’d worked himself into the hearts of the townspeople. The sleeper agents, Jack and Maddie, had a daughter who was quite enthusiastic about the properties of the mind, and accept Ra’s instructions to teach Danny with ease. It was the ideal situation.
In Ra’s eyes, Danny was thriving. Damian was not.
And then Ra’s died. The League was in shambles. Damian was at peace with his family, away from the cult he grew up in. He assumed Danny had defected years ago, since their mother stopped giving him reports about his twin.
Then Danny showed up at the Wayne’s doorstep, decked out in full League attire, angry and hostile.
“Tell me, dear brother,” he spat. “Why did you not inform me that Grandfather had died? I had to find out through his spirit when it came to visit from the afterlife!”
Damian didn’t know what to say.
#DPxDC#pondhead blurbs#just#Danny and Damian grew up in a CULT#cults have a reputation for a reason#Danny had no reason to even think about defecting throughout his entire childhood#if being loyal to his grandfather was an issue clockwork would have told him#Dan would have told him#the Fentons are part of a league faction operating out of the US#even Jazz is loyal to them and started viewing Ra’s as a grandfather figure the few times he came to visit#Danny LOVES his assassin grandpa and nobody in amity blinks an eye at him#Ra’s does know about the Fenton portal and phantom#because why wouldn’t Danny tell him?#Ra’s dies and his spirit immediately heads over to where he knows the portal is so he can get some help#ghost Ra’s: my grandson. it’s been too long.#Danny with the worst voice crack: why are you DEAD#Talia is still in hiding#or doing whatever she’s supposed to be doing idk#Danny shows up to ream Damian out and yell at him for his disloyalty#everyone is extremely worried about what Danny will do because he is very obviously still in deep with the league#he doesn’t like the talk about being ‘free’ because he was always free. tf you talking about Grayson.#also Damian doesn’t know about the full properties of the Lazarus pits or ectoplasm. he’s the Heir not the Head. that’s private stuff#Ra’s is a smug bastard using his grandson as a way to get revenge on the living#Danny is HIS shadow now.#I must stress Danny is pretty much the same as canon but literally just loyal to his grandpa Ra’s#maybe Ra’s meets clockwork? Ra’s x Clockwork?#their ship name is Sun Dial now I’ve decreed it
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]
“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.
“Batman. What can I do for you?”
“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”
“Pardon?”
Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.
“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”
“No…? Why?”
“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.
“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.
“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”
The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.
“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”
“Hn.”
“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”
Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”
“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”
“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”
“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.
“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”
“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”
“He’s a child.”
“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”
“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.
“Totally. Yup.”
“…Fine.”
“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”
“Yes.”
——
“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.
“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”
Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.
Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…
Ah!
“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.
“Anyways, fork over my payment.”
Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.
“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.
“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”
“I don’t litter.”
“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”
“An alive friend?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”
Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.
——
“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”
“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”
#batman#danny phantom#bruce wayne#dc x dp#bamf danny phantom#dpxdc#dcxdp#hal jordan#green lantern#the flash#Barry allen#mentions of Sam mason#phantom doesn’t pay taxes#but Danny Fenton absolutely pays taxes#his parents taught him how to file taxes#tax season is coming up soon tall I’m stressed#arthur curry#Aquaman#Aquaman and being interrogated on Atlantean history#Batman’s nickname is the litterer#you can’t tell me that batarangs don’t go everywhere#sea cryptic! danny au
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Dead on Main AU 3
Masterpost
So this one is a bit longer, but that's because part of it is the same phone conversation from the other side.
~~~~~
“Road trip!” Dick calls out. All of the- siblings(?)-younger people start to scramble before Bruce calls out for them to stop.
“This is going to be a 12 hour drive one-way, which means we won't be back until dinner tomorrow at the earliest. Not all of you can go.” This causes a lot of frowns and Danny holds in a chuckle. They start arguing over why they should be able to go and Bruce pinches his nose, right between his eyes as they shout at him.
“First and Foremost, I do believe that Masters Duke, Damian, and Stephanie have school tomorrow.” Alfred inserts. Everyone quiets to listen to him, Danny notes. Everyone else they’ll talk over, he must be important, be extra nice to him.
The three must sigh and sit back down at the table.
“Cass, if you wouldn’t mind staying to keep them out of trouble overnight. I’m sure Alfred will see them out to school.”
Cass shrugs, then signs at Dick who responds “Of course!” Danny hadn’t realized that she was speaking sign language this whole time.
Bruce then turns to face Dick and Tim. “You have absolutely no way to keep us from coming.” Dick sing-songs.
“You both have work tomorrow.”
“Actually, Dick and I called out ten minutes ago, family emergency.” Tim shrugs. “We won’t be in for a few days unless things change.”
“Alright, go grab your things.” They both whoop and you can just tell they were both about to start running when they catch eyes with Alfred and just start walking really fast. “Pack light, and grab some changes of clothes for Jason!”
Before they can leave a phone starts ringing. They all look around before all eyes settle back on Danny. He feels around his pockets for where the phone is, before pulling it out and seeing his own number on the caller ID.
“Oh, it’s me!” Danny hurries to pick up as he hears someone mutter “Why didn’t we think of that?” from the table. Dick and Tim are almost immediately right next to him as he mumble out a hello.
“Um, hello, Jason?”
“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?” His heart thumps when he hears his own voice coming out the other side of the phone. It somehow makes the whole situation seem a bit more real then it did before.
“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”
“Hey, we’re his family”
“We’re all his brothers and Cass is his sister.”
“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?”
So much talking at once, Danny tries to focus on his own voice coming through the phone. It’s a little deeper than it usually is, gruffer and lilted like it’s trying to talk in an accent the mouth isn’t familiar with shaping. Danny supposes the voice he’s speaking with now must be doing the same.
“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason sighs loud enough to hear over the phone and Danny chuckles at the response.
“Right, well your name is Danny right?”
“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?” They were all home the last he checked, and Jazz usually tells him before she heads out.
“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”
“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Danny rubs a hand down his face just thinking of that - his homework- being his soulmate's first real impression of him.
“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”
Danny shakes off the embarrassment “I think so?”
“Of course we are!”, “Was he not paying any attention as we decided who should go?”, “We were just planning.” There are so many people talking at once again.
Danny pulls his face away from the phone and turns to the room at large “Stop it, buzz off!”. He turns to face a wall and takes a few steps away. “They said yes.”
“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”
Danny hums, focused on something else. “Look, I do need to warn you…” what if he goes ghost, can he go ghost with Jason in his body? What are his parents working on today? “ about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”
“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?” Weird ice mist coming out of your mouth would be pretty unexplainable at the moment, but random things shooting at him can be avoided!
“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.” Almost everything in that lab is to be avoided, although since he is already in Danny’s body he shouldn’t be bothered by the potential radiation.
“Kid, what?”
“This is really an in-person talk.”
Danny does not know how he would explain this over the phone, with a room of eavesdroppers behind him. Although they’ve become respectfully quiet, more whispers than anything now.
“Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”
“Yep!” That would be best, Jazz will definitely help him. “Is there anything I should know?”
“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”
Danny laughs and puts the phone on speaker before calling out to the room, “You’re on speaker!” so everyone in the room knows as well as Jason.
“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”
“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick has bounded back over to Danny, right up in the personal space.
“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells from the table, where she continued eating at some point.
“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”
Danny starts laughing so hard he doesn’t register everyone else in the room having frozen at the outburst.
“Oh, wow, same.” Danny gets out once he can breathe again.
The room is staring at him again, but they seem to do that a lot.
“You must be Jazz.” They hear coming through the phone. “I’m Jason.”
“Jazz!” Danny calls out.
“Danny would like to talk to you.” There’s a small shuffle.
“Danny?”
“Hey, Jazz! So, apparently I’m the younger, so today’s the day. I’m with his family right now.”
“You have a plan? Are you coming home?”
“Yeah, just. Would you mind keeping an eye on Jason until I get there? It’s going to be a long drive so could you make sure nothing shoots him and that he gets edible food?”
“I’ll take him to Nasty for dinner, don’t worry.” Danny sighs in relief, he knew Jazz would help, but he did not need his soulmate food fighting with dinner.
“Sounds good, he’s in my body so he shouldn’t really be poisoned but Mom and Dad still can’t really cook. Speaking of which! He is in my body so if anything happens with the, um, medical condition, help him through that as well.”
“Of course, Danny.”
“Thanks Jazz! We were just deciding who was coming along, but apparently, it's about a 12-hour drive? So, you guys won’t see us until tomorrow.” There’s a lot unspoken in this conversation, but Danny knows she’ll do her best. “Try not to interrogate him, and no psychoanalyzing!”
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DPXDC prompt ~Dead on main~Someone is walking over my grave
Jason sits on his tombstone and thinks about..something.
He lazily washes off the dirt that has been stuck on his army boots after the rain. It covers the year of his death perfectly. Grinning, he puts out a cigarette by using the mentioned stone. The cigarette butt throws between ugly funeral wreaths.
Danny: Hey, asshole, stop it!
Jason turns around. A very angry twink is rushing at him. The notorious crime lord does not have time to react when a fist hits him. Red Hood falls into a puddle. Shit! His favorite leather jacket!
Jason: What the hell are you doing?
Danny: No. What the hell are you doing?! Just because a man is dead doesn’t mean you must not respect him. You’re in a cemetery. Behave yourself, shithead. Or I’ll teach you manners.
Jason: You’re not from around here. Right?
Danny: So what? I doubt it’s normal to wipe your feet using a tombstone. Even in Gotham.
A malicious gremlin folds his arms on a chest.
Jason sits in a puddle more comfortably and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. Damn, it’s wet.
Jason: If you were gothamite, I wouldn’t have to explain. It’s my grave, idiot. I do what I want with it.
Jason throws useless source of nicotine at his photo with black ribbon. The person who convicted him takes a couple of seconds to compare the vandal to the buried one.
Danny: Aw, shit, man. My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt your break.
Jason’s eyebrow rises in surprise. From the outsider he expected more screaming and running. Not…apologies.
Jason: Yeah? Tell that to my favorite leather jacket. Now you can bury it next to me.
Bad Jason, bad. That’s not how normal people talk.
Danny: I’ll make amends. Tomorrow, okay? It’s my first working day. I’ve decided not to take my wallet. Need to find a safe route.
Jason: First day?
Danny: Yes, new cemetery guard here in the flesh. But I have not had time to meet all of inhabitants. Mistook you for a bad boy in a story. Well, it is your fault too! I understand you’re upset about death or maybe about the color of wreaths but please just put all the shit in the trash. I’m Danny, by the way.
Jason: Ha, I was wondering why there was no regular dude at work. Probably my neighbors drove him to a breakdown. He was an asshole, so no regrets.
Danny: Do you think so? Mrs Dent didn’t seem restless to me, she was quite nice.
The guy didn’t seem to catch the joke. Or was crazy. Why are all the hot people in Gotham are? Doesn’t matter. Why not try, right?
Jason: Don’t worry about the money. You can repay me with something else.
Danny: So you regenerates the suit? Cool. What do you want?
Jason: Um, I don’t get it, but… as compensation, I’m wanna have your number and one date.
Danny: Sure, why not.
Danny looks at the headstone.
Danny:Can you go outside the cemetery...Jason? The place is romantic, I agree, but where I grew up, it’s not customary to bring a mate at the place of rest until you meet parents.
Jason: Seriously? Cheesy horror movies didn’t teach you not to mess with zombies?
Danny: Well, I’ve never had a partner who was attracted to my brilliant brain. It must be pretty nice. And I don’t mind a couple of love bites, zombie boy.
Danny’s playfully batting his eyelashes. Jason can’t help laughing.
Danny: The less fair opinion among my friends is that I’m just brain-dead idiot. But I think they just don’t understand the benefits of adrenaline addiction, miserable humans. *pretends to wipe off a tear*
Jason *pretends to sniff*: Aw, hell, you really are a brainless doll, aren’t you?
Danny: Even so, it just means I’m perfectly safe.
Jason: Don’t think so. I want a piece of you.
Danny: Then don’t be afraid that the feeling is mutual. My teeth are also quite sharp. And when I’m haunting, it’s not easy to get rid of me.
The cheeky smile has given way to a serious look.
Danny: If we don’t get along, tell me right away, I’m not good at reading other people’s emotions.
~~~~~
Red Hood may be the son of the greatest detective but blinded by love Jason realizes that his boyfriend is quite dead only after a couple of months. He used to think Danny was a little…weird. Well, who in Gotham isn’t? It wasn't a problem. But during a funny fight about ignoring Danny in favor of a conversation with Tim , Fenton goes through him to grab his phone and then shouts that 'ghosting him is racist'.
Jason was delighted that he was able to hide his surprise. His boyfriend was too sweet, but sometimes insecure. Jay didn’t want Danny to start being cautious. Evidently, Honey thought from the first day that Jason knows. Let him keep it that way. Nothing has changed.
But now Danny’s promises to haunt Joker for the rest of his life if Jason wants it stopped being just super-hot flirt. So Jason need to make sure he doesn’t sic his darling poltergeist or whoever Danny is on someone. Even if it sounds good.
~~~~~Family dinner~~~~~
Dick: How did you two meet?
Jason: That’s a great story. My brave man beat the vandal who was messing with my grave.
Bruce: What? Who dared?
Danny: Jason, stop. It’s embarrassing.
Jason: No~ My family needs to know that chivalry is dead. My hero. Jason can’t resist a kiss on the cheek.
Danny: Taking this opportunity, I want to thank you all. It means a lot that you accepted Jason even not fully alive.
Alfred: Nonsense. Of course we..He’s family, no matter what.
Danny: Until the death separates us. Even at a wedding, love is promised only for a while. In parenthood, they do not take any oath about it. You’d be surprised how little past relationships can mean to people and how easy it is to hate what we are.
Danny: Damn, I ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.
~~~~~
Jason: B, with all due respect, back off. You should ask Constantine how to help Danny if his family becomes a problem. Don’t mark my babe as a problem.
Bruce: I asked. And he laughed at me and said that you are the one who need protection. not him. Your Fenton is dangerous. Ghosts of such power only emerge in cataclysms after a large burst of energy or reach this level after centuries of battles or cannibalism and battles.
Jason: Seriously, old man? My boyfriend’s not gonna eat me. I’m not Red riding hood and he’s clearly not pretending to be my grandmother.
~~~~~~
Danny: Hi, honey. what’s new?
Jason noted with satisfaction that Danny had eaten all the supplies he had prepared for him.
Jason: Nothing, but now I have an idea for great Halloween costumes for us. They are gonna drive the old man crazy.
Danny: Did you fight again? What is it this time?
Jason: Guess what, now B’s worried you want to bite off my dick or something.
Danny: First, eew, disgusting. Don’t talk about our intimate life with fucking Batman. Why would he think that? I like you whole.
Jason: Whore?
Danny: Idiot.They don’t even sound alike.
Jason: Just admit that I am an eye candy and kiss me already. I need a break from the madness of my family.
~~~~~
Later Danny blackmails Constantine for information about the interrogation from Batman.
Then he sends a short message to the group chat : Tell the future father-in-law that while Jason can cook, he is safe from me.
The chat explodes from questions of Batclan to Bruce. Jay has great brothers and sisters. Danny knew their chaotic energy could be relied upon.
~~~~~
In the morning Jason yells at Tim. Why the hell did Replacement put "Friends For Dinner" from The Land Before Time as his alarm melody?
~~~~~
Bruce *is suspicious of the ghosts at the wedding*.
GhostWriter: Do not think that we like it. The boy is involved in his own version of Twilight. Oh Ancients, I hope the Ancients don't know about it.
Clockwork aka one of Ancients: Come on, that’s sweet. And story will have a happy ending. I guarantee.
~~~~~
Jason's in a date simulator with no chance of losing when everyone thinks he’s in a horror game. Is Danny dangerous? Yeah. Did he hunt when they first met? Who knows. The main thing in the middle of the conversation Danny realised he found a creature with a similar sense of humor. So that made Jason 10 out of 10 aka soulmate and he would kill for him.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dpxdc prompts#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp#dp x dc#ghost hunger au#dead on main#danny phantom x jason todd#danny fenton x jason todd#dirty talk#??? idk
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A few months before Danny gets his powers, while on a trip to Gotham with his family (maybe there was a ghost convention or something). While in Gotham Danny some how figures out that Bruce Wayne is Batman. I don’t know how he figures it out, but he does. When they get back to Amity Danny jokingly makes a power point presentation for his parents about why they should put in their will that if something ever happened to them Bruce Wayne would get custody of him (and Jazz if she’s still underage at the time).
A couple of his points are:
He’s a billionaire so you know he’ll be able to afford to take care of me and Jazz
He has a mansion so lots of space and big rooms
He’s got a butler
He’s already well known for adopting black haired blue eyed children so he probs wouldn’t be opposed to taking me in
He’s got kids of his own already so me and Jazz would get more siblings!!
He’s Batman
Danny did the whole power point as a joke but his parents actually took it kind of seriously. Cause up to this point neither one of them had thought about what would happen to Danny and Jazz if the both of them where to die. So they make a will and put in it that if they both die then Bruce Wayne gets custody of their kids. And then they all promptly forget about it.
Two years later Bruce Wayne gets a call from a man claiming to be the executor of the Fenton will and that Bruce’s presence is requested in Amity Park for the reading of the Fenton will. Bruce is wracking his brain trying to remember who the Fenton’s are and if how he knows them. But the man is coming up blank (cause he’s never actually met them before). He goes to the will reading and is shocked to hear that the Fenton’s, two people he’s never met before, have left custody of their 16yo son to him.
Danny is just as shocked because holy shit that power point was a joke. He didn’t mean for his parents to actually take it seriously and do that!!! And Vlad is pissed. He was sure he was gonna get custody of Danny after killing off the Fenton parents! Bruce is trying to figure out why these two strangers left their son to him. He’s watching Danny with eagle eyes trying to figure the kid out. And he sees the way Danny flinches whenever Vlad gets close or puts his hand on Danny’s shoulder.
Vlad tries to convince Bruce it would be better for Danny if Bruce gave up custody to him(Vlad). He’s know the boy for two years after all and he was actually a family friend. Danny meanwhile is silently shaking his head and giving Bruce pleading eyes silently begging him not to let Vlad take him. Bruce just tells Vlad that the Fenton’s must have had a good reason for giving him(Bruce) custody instead of giving it to Vlad, and he’s going to abide by the Fenton’s wishes.
Bruce leaves with Danny and once in the limo he asks Danny if he’s ever met him or his parents before. Poor Danny has to explain how he jokingly made a power point about why his parents should leave custody of him to Bruce in the event of their deaths, and how he never thought his parents would actually take it seriously. But hey at least he doesn’t have to go live with Vlad now!
#danny phantom#batman#dp x dc#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton#ghost king phantom#it was supposed to be a joke#but the Fenton parents are weird#and extra#and they love their kids#so if their son wants Bruce Wayne to be their back up in the event of their demise#then who are they to say no#Bruce is super confused when he shows up for the will reading#who the hell are these people#the executor of the will didn’t know that the Fenton’s and Bruce didn’t know each other#he saw Bruce Wayne’s name and that he was being left custody of Danny#and he just assumed that the Fenton’s and the Wayne’s where friends#plus Wayne is always adopting orphaned kids with black hair and blue eyes#and Danny fits that perfectly#the man did not question this decision for a single second#vlad is beyond pissed#he killed the Fenton parents to get custody of Danny#and it was all for nothing cause those idiots didn’t leave him custody#he’s trying to figure out how the Fenton’s knew Bruce Wayne as well#Danny is just super embarrassed#it was a damn joke!#it wasn’t supposed to be taken seriously
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two sides of the same coin - mv1
masterlist
Summary: The one where you try to convince yourself that you’re not falling for your teammate, but can’t help it when you realise that he is not that different from you after all.
Pairing: max verstappen x reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: cursing, mommy issues (same), daddy issues, ISSUES OKAY, ISSUES, EVERYBODY HAS ISSUES, J*s Verstappen (yikes), allusions to eating disorders, a singular mention of divorce babe divorce, angst (why am i writing so much angst), daniel ricciardo being the best older grid-brother there is, slight frenemies to lovers if your squint, i don’t really like horner but he’s like the only father figure max ever had so he’s a good guy in this one.
Request: “teammates to lovers with max please!❣️”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i did NOT expect to get this out today, but there you go! it was so much fun to write and honestly, i might slowly becoming a max girl (sorry carlos). anyway, please check the warning tags if you haven’t already, because there might be some possibly triggering content. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
2018
“Do you have to leave?” You ask the Australian in front of you who, coincidentally, is kneeled on the floor and in the middle of packing his bag. “Can’t you just… I don’t know, stay?”
“Come on, cheer up.” He says, “You’re supposed to be happy that I’m changing teams, Y/N.”
You scoff, dropping yourself to lay down and bending your knees to rest your feet on the couch. “I don’t have to be happy about anything.” You throw the tennis ball in your hand towards the wall, catching it and doing it all over again in a pattern in which you know is going to make Daniel mad.
“Any other potential driver would be happy about this, Horner already told you the seat would be yours. So, there is no reason why you shouldn’t feel happy about this.”
“Well, I still don’t.” You huff, turning your head towards the man jokingly glaring at you.
He laughs, gives you a look and returns to his task while shaking his head slightly. “You’re a very weird girl, Y/N.”
“Wow, Daniel. That’s brand-new information.” A third voice interrupts your discussion from the door. It’s Max leaning against the frame with his arms crossed across his chest. You halt the movement of your hands to send him a scathing look.
You roll your eyes, mumbling something along the lines of “No one asked you,” under your breath.
“Play nice, Max Emilian.” Daniel mumbles, making the Dutch groan and you laugh. “Fuck, how did I pack this in the first place?”
“You wouldn’t have this issue if you didn’t get too comfortable in your driver’s room, Danny.” You offer, raising yourself on your elbows to get a better look at the already bursting luggage. “You still have a ton of stuff at the hotel, too.”
“Maybe you should just stop living like a slob.” Max offers this time, making both you and Daniel to glare at him. “Jesus, tough room.”
“You should become a comedian,” you tell him with a voice dripping with sarcasm, “Max Emilian.”
He straightens his posture quickly, “You know what, Y/N–”
“Calm down, children.” Daniel sighs and giving you both the look. “You two need to get along now that I’m not going to be there to stop some kind of childish feud–”
“It’s not childish–” You argue at the same time Max complains, “She pushed me off the track!”
You furiously get up from your place on the couch and walk towards him with an accusatory finger extended towards him. “It wasn’t me, you dickhead, it was Charles! And it was an accident!”
“I don’t care,” He contends, “You were helping him push me off the track.” He shakes his head while mumbling, “Incident, inchident, as if I’m stupid.”
“Why would I help him when I was racing against both of you, Max?”
“I don’t know,” He shrugs, a devilish smirk on his lips. “Maybe you had a crush on him.”
“I- I did not!” Your shout is high pitched, you gasp and start to follow him with enraged steps when he walks out of the room. “You get back right here, Max, you insufferable twat!”
Daniel is left with an empty room and a luggage which is about to explode. “They’ll be fine,” he announces, mostly to himself but also at the poor intern who watches the corridor you’re both walking down in while continue your very loud fight. “Do you think you can get me another luggage?”
2019
It’s not like you hate Max, you don’t hate him at all. In fact, he’s gone out of his way to make you feel comfortable from your change in role from a reserve driver to the second driver at Red Bull. Looking back, you can now say that everything happened so quickly. One day, you were the reserve driver for Aston Martin Red Bull Formula One team, and the next day, Christian Horner invited you to his office to offer you an opportunity of a lifetime. Having a reserve driver who was a woman had already had the team under a large microscope – some calling it a step in the right direction whilst others arguing that it was nothing more than a PR move to gain sympathy. You tried telling your team principle your concerns about the media but he assured you that all will be dealt with and all you would need to do is drive a good race.
So, you left the office with a renewed, and rewritten, contract and never looked back. After that, it was a whirlwind of media duties (both due to your ‘promotion’ and Daniel’s departure), photoshoots, and much more. Your trusted Apple Watch was replaced with a Tag Heuer one, which left you terrified of losing it. But Horner assured you that they’d deal with it – “Should you ever lose the watch, but try not to because it costs a lot of money, okay?” Max was with you in every step of the way, even though his father clearly unapproved of your pseudo-friendship. You sometimes think the only reason the two of you ever became friends is due to the fact that it was forced upon you due to you being teammates, but Max proves this to be wrong every time he brings you coffee in morning briefings because; “I don’t want for them to repeat it and extend the meeting because you’re sleepy,” or when he checks up on you before a race in a particular track he knows you’re anxious about; “Just making sure you’re calmed down so you don’t accidentally hit me,” or how he comforts you after every fight you have with your mother.
Which brings us to another topic – your mother. You suppose what J.D Salinger said was true – Mothers are all slightly insane. And you are allowed to say that, because yours takes the term ‘dance mom’ to a whole other level. You thought since Daniel convinced your mother that he’d take care of you, she’d stay away, but she became very interested in your career as a racing driver. You’d hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but your dreams are crushed like your car when she shows up in your first race. You two have a very public fight, which Christian has to break up for both of your sakes, leaving you to lock yourself in your driver’s room for the remainder of the race. It’s only when your door is knocked you realise the race is over. You’re about to yell back against the persistent knocks that you want to be left alone when you hear his voice.
You get up and open to door to let Max in, only to find yourself crashing in his arms on the couch, sobbing through his calming words. “It’s going to be fine,” he says and somehow you realise maybe the two of you aren’t so different.
2020
Between the pandemic and the new regulations, the 2020 season rocks your world – in a totally not cool way. The paddock buzzes with the health restrictions, everyone wanting to keep their drivers and staff safe. The stress from the unknown which comes from the fact that you’re in a freaking pandemic and that fact that your mother and Helmut Marko is enough to keep you on the edge throughout the whole season. The fights with your mother now more prominent than ever, you’re fairly sure that the poor people who are supposed to be doing their jobs can’t even do that because the fight seems to continue wherever you go. One day it’s about the fact that you couldn’t get a podium, the next time it’s because of the fact that you were third, you didn’t push enough, you pushed too hard, you didn’t use enough throttle, and the list goes on. You can feel the light in you fading with every fight, and the criticising jabs being masked as ‘little comments’, you’re just glad that you’re getting through the season without wanting to explode.
It's between practice sessions when you sit down for lunch with your mother. You both order your food – her a salad, and you a sandwich. After the waiter leaves, your mother lets out an unsatisfied hum.
“What’s wrong, mom?” You ask, trying to keep your voice and facial expression calm.
“Wouldn’t it be better if you ate something healthier?” She asks, her voice condescending in every way you absolutely hate. “It would save your engineers a whole lot of work.”
You sigh, turning your attention to your phone in your hands to appear busy. “The world isn’t going to end if I eat two slices of bread for lunch, mom.” You mumble.
“It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t maintain healthier habits, I heard of this new diet–”
“I think she said she’d prefer the sandwich, Ms. Y/LN.” A voice interrupts, the one which you’ve become accustomed with. When you raise your head up, Max meets your eyes with an expectant look. “I’m sorry to keep your lunch short, but Christian said he wanted to meet us.”
And with that, he quickly whisks you away from your mother. You’re confused when he leads you to his driver’s room instead of Christian’s office. You look at him with raised eyebrows, “I thought we were meeting Christian.”
“Well, I might’ve lied.” He shrugs. Then, he moves towards the serving plate on the little table and motions you to sit. You’re even more surprised to find the sandwich you’ve ordered on the plate. He must’ve anticipated this because he explains it as he offers you the plate. “I was sitting a few tables over and heard you order it, now eat.”
“Thanks, Max.” You whisper with a breathy voice.
“It’s going to be fine.” He whispers back, making sure you eat every bite.
2021
Everything is much more tense this season. Although the go through the races is podium finishes and points (and even a few wins), you realise Max is more on edge than you are. This also puts you in a slight state of panic, as he’s been the one better at keeping the cool between the two of you, but you manage to put your own insecurities aside to help your friend who’s done the same for you for the past two years. It starts with encouraging words and continues with comforting touches which evolve into hands lingering around after hugs. It becomes stolen looks across the rooms or group interviews where they separated the two of you. It later becomes holding each other’s hands under the tables during function and award shows and even holding each other in the comfort of your respective driver’s or hotel rooms.
Max brings home a win in Monaco, while you steal the first place from Seb in Azerbaijan. He’s not bitter about it, in fact he congratulates you and doses you in so much champagne you have to take two showers to get the stickiness off your hair when you get back to your hotel room. While the season seems to be going for you from the race perspective, you realise Max is starting to have more problems with his father. You try your best when it comes to reassuring him, but both you and Max realise that you’re more open to being comforted than him. So, you provide the silence he craves and he eventually lets you know that he is ready for your cuddles. It’s a sad but a good routine.
There’s one incident with an interview during the season. The tensions are high and people are starting to question your ability as a driver more now that you are bringing home podiums and wins. They are sceptical about the fact that you are a woman and question your every move and achievement – but you don’t mind it, you’re doing it for the little girls everywhere who watch you and hope to achieve the same things as you one day.
An interviewer asks, “Isn’t it hard to focus on your task when you’re surrounded with nineteen other drivers who happen to be all men?”
You’re still tired from the previous race and not getting a full night’s sleep the night before, that it takes a while for you to comprehend the question. Thankfully, Daniel and Seb are there to defend you alongside Max. You turn your focus to the interviewer who asked the question as their protests die down. “Well,” you start with a shaky laugh, “I know the past year has messed up us all, but I’m not particularly into anything involving masks or stuff that conceal the face.” There is a nervous laughter around the room and the interviewer is not pleased with your answer. “Shall we continue?” You ask in the sweetest voice you can muster. When you look at Daniel and Max, both of them grin at you while giving you a supportive thumbs-up.
You find yourself in his hotel room in Austin, a couple weeks after the race in Turkey. His eyes are focused on the portable screen as he plays FIFA. You’ve realised it’s a pre-race routine for him – not that you understand, his eyes must be tired after looking at the screen for too long. He asks you if you want to play and you agree, albeit timidly. He lets you play a few rounds after taking over and playing for fourteen hours straight to find himself ranking 21 worldwide.
“You can always join an esports team after this.” You joke, your head is on the back of the couch as you look up at him. He laughs, agreeing you without any objection.
“Maybe I should.”
“What, you’re not going to continue racing until you are an old prune?” You ask.
His face contorts. “No, that’s not the goal, schatje.”
“Then tell me,” You move your hands under your chin to appear more interested despite the sleep in your eyes. “what is the goal?”
“To prove a point, and then I’m free.” He replies, mimicking your earlier pose.
“You’re going to be fine, Max.” You speak in a soft voice; your touch is soft on his cheek when you bring one of your hands to caress the skin. “You’re going to become the champion this year.”
“How do you know?” Max asks, you can tell it is not to be sceptical, but it is in genuine curiosity.
“Female intuition.”
He lets out a big laugh, grabbing your wrist gently and pressing a kiss on the tips of your fingers. “Come on, we have to sleep before tomorrow. He have a race to win.”
He wins, by the way – the race in Austin. And then, he goes on to win the 2021 World Championship. There are tears in your eyes as you congratulate him on the team radios, and after you get out of your car. He brings you on the podium and kisses you in front of the whole world. You realise that he was right all those times after all, everything is going to be fine.
2022
Both of you are in a bubble when you get to the 2022 season. He kisses you before every race, you do the same. You wish each other luck and proceed to race on the track the best you can. You find each other after every race, mostly covered in champagne, and kiss again. Both of your parents were opposed to your relationship at first – your mother and his father. It’s funny to think that now, because he’s introduced you to his mother and you introduced him to your dad, and as far as their approval goes, the love extends both ways. You’ve told your mother to stop coming to races, presenting a clear argument without raising your voice once, which leaves her no choice to agree to your wishes. It was scary to even consider doing it, but the proud look on Max’s face is enough for you to do it all again.
You win the race in Monaco this year. Max is P3, but he looks just as happy as you when you direct your bottle of champagne towards him. Although Carlos is there with you on the podium, in that moment, it feels like the world consists of only the two of you. You go to celebrate with the team, of course. Christian pushing you into the pool and you pulling Max, and consequently him, alongside you. Someone captures the moment and you post it to your social media. Daniel makes sure everyone knows that he approves.
The fight is still on, as Lewis would say. You know both him and Max are still fighting for the title. No one expected you to join the two of them in their fight for the title. The first few races are hard at the start of the season, but you outrace most of your friends on the track after your win in Monaco. By the time you get to Abu Dhabi for the season’s last race, you’re a shaky mess. He takes you into his arms and whispers affirming promises into your ear.
“You’re going to become the world champion,” He announces to you. “I know you’re going to do it.”
Your voice comes out creaking as you question, “How do you know?”
There is a warm smile on his lips as he answers, “Female intuition.”
You both get ready to race before you could answer because of the knock on the door.
“YOU DID IT, Y/N, YOU ARE THE FIRST FEMALE WORLD CHAMPION IN THE HISTORY OF FORMULA ONE!” Horner shouts through your radio.
You’re still shaking by the time you park your car, and can’t get out even when your team huddles around you to celebrate. It takes a while to take it all in, but as you stand on the podium as the reigning champion with the man you love, nothing else matters to you in the world. You look around to see the smile on people’s faces, people shouting and cheering for you, and you even see your father who holds a banner with one of his hands as his other arm is wrapped around your team principal. It’s a bittersweet feeling, winning the same season one of your best friends announce that he is going to become a reserve driver. But Daniel is right there with your dad and Christian, screaming your name with pride. After your national anthem is played and you pop the champagne, you’re trying to get your eyes dry from all the tears as Max suddenly falls to his knees. You kneel with him with panic, of course, thinking that there might be something wrong with his heartbeat or something worse. But right as you’re about to call for help he brings something from his back towards you, opening the small box while maintaining his eye contact with you. There is an uproar of cheers around you, but it doesn’t matter. As far as you’re concerned, there’s only Max and you – and you and Max.
“Marry me, liefje.” He says.
You nod your head, “Yes.”
He gathers you up in his arms after he puts the ring on your finger. You realise that he was right from the beginning, everything is more than fine.
2023
“You need to stop doing this to yourself.” You announce as you watch Daniel struggle with his overflowing luggage – again. “You’re not even driving this season.”
“It’s not my fault, I can’t not take what the fans give me.” He tries to defend himself; he points to the suitcase with frustration. “Can you help me, please?”
“Only because I am in a good mood.” You announce as you kneel beside him and the two of you try closing the monstrosity in front of you.
You know Max is there before he announces his arrival. “Putting my wife to work, Daniel?” He asks. He comes to kneel with the two of you helping you close the luggage up. Then, he kisses you softly on your lips as he mumbles, “Hello, Mrs. Verstappen.”
“Hello, Mr. Verstappen.” You giggle.
“God, you guys are insufferable.” Daniel pretends to gag, receiving glares from the both of you. “Remember when you guys hated each other? Yeah, I miss those days.”
“We never hated each other.” Max shrugs.
“Yeah,” You seem to agree with your husband. “It was just an inchident of misunderstanding.”
“I better be your future kids’ godfather!” He yells behind you as you start to leave (your) driver’s room. “Children, bloody children.” He mumbles to himself, he waves his arms for help when he spots one of the interns, “Hey, do you think you can get me another luggage?”
#monzabee#requests open#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#formula 1#fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#imagine#fluff#angst#smut#max verstappen smut#max verstappen fluff#daniel ricciardo is the best
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Jason can clearly say that becoming a halfa was the best thing that ever happened to him.
If not for the lack of green in his head now a days than it’s because of all the new material he now has to fuck with his family.
He has successfully tricked B into thinking he can stick to things like Spider-Man instead of just turning off gravity.
Damian is now much more wary about threatening people with his sword now that Jason let him cut off a hand without telling him it would grow back.
Currently, he’s slowly gaslighting his brothers into thinking he’s pregnant.
Man, he has really been enjoying his new ability to turn invisible.
Dick, flicks on the closet light: okay now that everyone’s here-
Danny: why am I here again? I’m not even adopted.
Dick: you and I both know that it’s not because B hasn’t offered in his own emotionally constipated way. Anyways we are here to discuss the elephant in the room, Tim, the board.
*Tim, whipping Sheet off, revealing a cork board with strings*
Damian: Grayson. Drake. this is getting ridiculous.
Tim: but it makes sense. Last week Jason started looking up pregnancy symptoms! He claimed they were so that he could help his girls out but then why did he use his personal computer for this “research”?
Dick: now this wouldn’t be concerning in of itself but the last few days Jason’s fighting style has changed.
Tim: he’s still being out “hard hitter” but his style has suddenly became more defensive and focused on blocking his center and core.
Dick: he has also been complaining about aching back and weight gain! He hasn’t drank in two weeks and I swear I saw a bump last night while changing!
Tim: the nausea, the dizzy spells! He was searching up doctors last night!
Damian: Have you buffoons forgotten the fact that Todd is in fact a cis male?
Danny: Actually he’s a halfa, so gender isn’t quite as strict on him anymore.
Dick: .. what do you mean?
Danny: well, ghost are just made of emotions..? So besides a core everything is just subjective preference? Sure he’s not full dead but there’s only like four of us so we don’t really have a lot of knowledge on the inner workings so..
Batfam: …
Damian: Dear lord Todd is with child
Tim: how’re we telling Bruce?
Dick: forget Bruce, HOW ARE WE BREAKING THIS TO ALFRED??
Batboys: *frantic bickering*
Danny: *fazes into the room next door*
Danny: So why did you choose pregnancy of all things?
Jason, gleefully snickering as he brings his head out of the wall: Steph made a bet that I couldn’t and now she has to run around in the scaly pants again for a week!
#dp x dc#writing prompt#danny phantom#danny fenton#batman#dc x dp#jason todd#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#halfa jason#mother hood au#implied mpreg
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Here’s the thing about the Twin AU that people aren’t considering: the Drs Fenton are resourceful! They can make amazing inventions out of household objects and machines!
So when they were accepting a contract from Ra’s to look at the Lazarus Pits in conjunction to their research (ie the best dissertation material ever) they looked at the spare twin that was being sacrificed and said “a perfectly good baby like that would probably be nice to have around!”
Sure, the Spare Heir was ecto contaminated because of the pits and that’s why Ra’s was getting rid of him, but seriously, not everything needed to be brand new these days! Upcycle! Science can fix all the ectoplasm and possession! He’ll be just like new in no time! Take that baby out of the pit and wash em up and take that baby to the Midwest! Teach that baby about stars and Ghosts!
The Drs Fenton take baby danny on their last day, knowing that the league thinks that he’s dead- already sacrificed, Ra’s felt the power shift of the Infinite Realms- and proceed forward like nothing was ever a big deal! They published their findings on the pits, they got another contract/grant and then began the journey to start moving towards their other projects!
Why tell Jazz, she’s only a toddler when they bring him home?
Why tell Danny, he’s just their little man, their Dann-o?
Things will probably be fine, because just like their up cycled machines and portals- an upcycled baby wouldn’t have any problems! Their inventions always worked perfectly! Their son would be just as perfect!
Cue the shenanigans of Damian and Danny meeting, the normal amount of “you’re the clone” finger pointing (which Danny wins because he has actual baby/childhood photos) and then some ghosts of assassins past trying to cause issues for Phantom.
#reduce reuse recycle#dc x dp fic#dp x dc#danny phantom#damian wayne#dc universe#dc x dp#the drs Fenton are actually so environmentally friendly for saving this demon heir baby#sure he’s gross and possessed but he’s still a perfectly good baby! science can fix the rest#Ra’s felt a power shift when Danny was dumped into the pits and presumed the baby didn’t make it#turns out that was Danny’s introduction to clockwork and he thought it would be funny to get this kid a new home in Illinois#demon heir twins#twin au#danny and damian are twins
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He Hung Up (3)
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
Summary: You were vaguely aware of Sam yanking you away from the window, pushing you further into the apartment. Sam stood in front of you, looking you over concerned.
Warnings: Canon typical violence, Death, Murder
Word Count: 4.6k+
Note: So, this story that was meant to be a one shot, then became a 3-part thing, has now turned into 4 parts.
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4
“Let’s play Monopoly!” You smiled excitedly, holding up the box in front of everyone.
Everyone groaned causing you to frown. “Babe, please, it’s been a long day,” Tara said as nice as she could.
You turned, pouting at your girlfriend, giving her your best puppy dog eyes. You knew she could never resist them for very long. You knew she was right, it had been a long day, you went over suspects, got attacked by Ghostface, took a small nap, and now it was nighttime, and everyone was still at the apartment.
“Ugh, fine,” Tara sighed. Everyone else simultaneously groaned, while you smiled wide, jumping up and down. “Only because you got injured trying to protect me.”
You nodded happily. You didn’t care why she agreed to play Monopoly, you were just happy to be playing it. Once Tara agreed, it wouldn’t be long before everyone else agreed.
“I hate Monopoly,” Ethan mumbled.
You paused in taking the lid off the box. You looked to Tara then to Ethan. “That’s exactly what Ghostface said,” you said, squinting at him.
“That’s because Monopoly sucks,” Sam interrupted, plopping herself down in the armchair.
“That’s also what Ghostface said.” You narrowed your eyes at her.
She leaned forward in her chair, glaring at you. You dropped her eyes back down to the box, quickly taking out the board and pieces, laying everything out on the coffee table. You had all the money separated, the properties organized, and all the pieces in the middle of the table for everyone to choose from.
Ethan reached out grabbing for the car piece. You quickly smacked his hand before he could touch it. You snatched up the car, bringing it close to your chest. “I’m always the car,” you said in a serious tone. “You can be the fucking thimble.” You tossed the thimble piece at Ethan who glared at you.
“I’ll be the dog,” Tara said, picking up the dog.
Sam grabbed the battleship, Chad the cannon, Anika the top had, Mindy the boot, and Quinn the iron.
“Whatever, I have econ anyway,” Ethan said. Setting the playing piece down. He shot up from the couch, threw is backpack over his shoulder and stormed out the door without another word.
“Maybe we should invite Danny over,” you said.
“Who’s Danny?” Chad asked.
You smirked lightly when you saw Sam tense at the question. You were the only one who truly knew about Sam’s secret rendezvous with him. You had walked in on them a few times making out in the lobby. For people who wanted to keep their relationship a secret they were quite terrible at it, always hooking up in public spaces where anyone could walk past and see them.
You weren’t going to tell anyone about the relationship though. You knew Sam had her reasons for wanting to keep it secret and you respected that. She would tell the others when she was ready. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t have your fun though. Seeing Sam tense up and glare at you every time she thought you were going to spill the beans was hilarious. You knew teasing Sam did you no favors and it just made her dislike you even more, but you couldn’t help it, she just made it so easy.
“Cute boy from next door,” you answered Chad.
“Yes!” Mindy shouted. “Maybe we can finally get Sam laid!”
Sam glared at Mindy. For once she looked more pissed off at someone that wasn’t you. You tried covering your laugh with a cough. You didn’t need Sam’s death glare back on you. She seemed too busy to catch your laugh though, threatening Mindy with just a glance. Mindy quickly looked anywhere else when she noticed Sam’s glare, leaning into Anika as she took a long sip of her drink.
“I certainly wouldn’t mind the eye candy,” Quinn commented. “I can see into his apartment from my room and let me tell you,” she met everyone’s gaze, smirking. You saw Sam tense slightly, but it wasn’t obvious unless you knew why. “The view does not disappoint. That boy is fine!” she said the last word through gritted teeth, adding a little growl.
You snorted. “Please,” you scoffed. “He may be hot but he’s a huge dork. He definitely wouldn’t complain about being the thimble.”
“Danny is not a dork,” Sam said quickly. Everyone turned, scrunching their brows at Sam. Her eyes widened; she didn’t look at any of her friends, instead choosing to find your gaze. You had a small smile tugging at your lips and just raised your eyebrows in question. She shook her head trying to appear nonchalant. “I mean he doesn’t seem like a dork.”
You openly burst out laughing at that. Sam went back to her usual glaring at you. You continued to ignore it, laughing so hard you fell into a coughing fit. Tara gently patted you on the back and handed you a cup of water. You took it, giving her a thankful nod. You sipped the water, calming down enough that your laugh turned into a silent chuckle.
You couldn’t believe Sam actually believed Danny wasn’t a dork. You knew love was blind but damn you didn’t think it was that blind. The man spent most of his nights ironing his t-shirts. They were freaking athletic type shirts too. That was like the one piece of clothing that never needed to be ironed and yet Danny did it, every night.
Sam had to of been into Danny for his looks at first because there was no way she fell for him by talking to him. Danny was adorable and awkward but couldn’t flirt to save his life. One of the times you had walked in on them in the lobby he was flirting with Sam, and she was giggling so maybe she just liked dorky guys, but you couldn’t help but snort when you heard his pickup line. It instantly caused Sam to glare at you. You were pretty sure the only reason she didn’t turn around and beat you with the mail in her hand was because Danny quickly grabbed it, trying to calm her down.
“I’m sure Danny would love to join,” you said, moving to pull out your phone. “I’ll text him.”
“No!” Sam said quickly. Her saying no didn’t come as a surprise to the others, they were used to hearing Sam say no. You, however, knew this no was different than all the other noes.
“Can we just get this over with?” Tara sighed. You turned to her, mouth hanging open at how she could say something so dismissive about your favorite game. “Babe, I’ve already agreed to play. What more do you want?”
You turned back to the board pouting and grumbling under your breath. You finished setting the board up and then passed out each person's money. You were going to be the banker, but Sam snatched the little plastic tray from you. You raised your hands in defense before peacefully handing her over the property cards. She may hate monopoly but clearly, she was still enough of a control freak to need to be in charge of the pretend money.
You guys had been playing for a few hours and despite their dislike for the game everyone seemed to be having a good time. Sam had ordered a pizza and barely anyone had wanted to get up from the game to go answer the door. Everyone continued to sit around the coffee table, eating pizza with one hand while rolling the dice with the other.
Everyone owned a few properties. You and Sam were the only ones who had all of certain colors and had even started to build a few houses. Tara just rolled, landing on one of your said properties with two houses on it. She pouted, batting her long lashes at you. You smiled sweetly at her; you loved those eyes. You leaned over giving her a soft kiss.
“Pay up,” you whispered against her lips.
She frowned, pushing your shoulder. You broke out into a laugh which caused her to lightly smack you in the stomach. She grumbled about how she couldn’t believe her own girlfriend was actually making her pay. You smirked as she handed you the money, her throwing a glare at you before crossing her arms and leaning back into the couch with a pout. You sat there flipping through the money, making sure it was all there. You may love her but even she didn’t get a pass when it came to Monopoly, you were ruthless to anyone who landed on your property.
After a few more hours it was down to just you, Sam, and Chad. Everyone else had gone broke and had to sell off their properties to either you or Sam but even after getting money from you guys, they quickly lost it again. It was mainly down to you and Sam; Chad was just lucky to still be in it. He had spent a lot of time in jail and owned a couple railroads, the only things keeping him afloat.
“Maybe we should call it a night,” Chad sighed, reaching up to stretch out his back. You and Sam both swung your heads, glaring at him. He stopped mid-stretch, slowly bringing his hands down. “It was just a suggestion,” he raised his hands in defense.
“You just don’t want to lose,” Sam snapped.
“You’re just trying to avoid the inevitable,” you said at the same time.
Sam may hate monopoly and may have been complaining about how long it took at the start, but she was just as competitive as you. You guys had been playing all night and the game was almost over. The idea of quitting now was unfathomable to both of you. How could either of you quit when the end was just in sight.
“It’s after midnight,” he pointed to the clock underneath the TV.
You and Sam both turned to the clock, seeing that it was in fact after midnight, it was approaching two. Anika and Mindy were cuddled up, sleeping on the couch and Quinn had retreated to her room once she lost the game. You glanced to your left and saw Tara sound asleep, curling herself as close as she could get to you. You smiled down softly at her; you hadn’t even realized she dozed off. You and Sam both turned to each other, sitting straighter and narrowing your eyes at each other.
“He makes a point,” Sam said.
“Agreed,” you said.
The two of you kept narrowing your eyes more and more at each other. You weren’t going to forfeit, and you knew Sam certainly wasn’t going to either. You two were at an impasse. You were certain the two of you could knock Chad out of the game in like twenty minutes, but you and Sam were pretty evenly matched, both had solid stacks of money still, close to the same amount of property, and for what one had in property the other made up for in houses.
“Pause until the morning?” Sam asked.
“Okay,” you said slowly.
You two watched each other for another minute before Sam gently set the dice down in the middle of the board.
“Alright,” she said loudly, clapping her hands as she stood up. “Time for bed.” Tara, Mindy, and Anika all jumped awake. “I’ll grab the spare blankets and pillows.”
“We don’t have to stay,” Chad said.
“Yes, you do.” Sam came back into the room with a few pillows and blankets. “It’s late and there’s a psycho after us, again. I’m not letting you go out there alone.”
“Ready for bed?” you whispered to Tara who had sat up but was currently resting her head on your shoulder, wrapping her arm around yours in an iron grip.
She mumbled sleepily and you stood up slowly, bringing her with you. She stumbled on her feet for a second, choosing to keep her eyes closed so she didn’t fully wake herself up. You moved around the table, gently pulling Tara with you, making sure she didn’t bump into anything.
“Hey, wait,” Anika called out, just as you and Tara were about to pass through the kitchen to her room.
You turned, seeing Anika unmute the TV. It was another news broadcast. Your breath caught thinking there might have been another murder, but you were relieved because everyone you cared about was currently safe in the apartment with you. The reporter started speaking, though it wasn’t about another murder, that should’ve made you happy, no one else was dead yet. It didn’t, however, the reporter might not have been talking about a new murder, but he was going on about how Sam was the top suspect.
You didn’t know where the hell those guys got their info from. Sam didn’t do anything wrong. She wasn’t behind the Woodsboro murders last year and she wasn’t behind the current one’s going on. There was absolutely no evidence pointing Sam to any of the murders, she was the victim. People just couldn’t get over the fact that her dad was a serial killer. You didn’t see why that was such a focal point, plenty of serial killers had kids and most of those kids didn’t turn out to be psychos like their parent.
You felt Tara push off from your side. It seemed that the news report had made her wide awake. She moved to the dining room table where Sam sat. You turned away, choosing to pretend to watch the news, you didn’t want to impose on their sister moment. Chad and Mindy quickly joined the sisters, comforting Sam. You smiled softly to yourself at hearing Chad deem them the core four again and say how they were a family.
Sam took the opportunity to mention her hook ups with Danny. The other three cheered and high fived. You had told Sam she wasn’t very subtle; she hadn’t believed you. Turns out you had been right since everyone had suspected them. You took that as your opportunity to slide into the chair next to Tara and join.
“I told you so,” you said, smirking at Sam.
She rolled her eyes, glaring at you before flipping you off. Her reaction only made you laugh more.
“You knew!” Tara screeched, slapping your arm. You yelped in pain. She had managed to smack right where the cut on your arm was. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry.”
“I think I need a kiss,” you said, looking at her with sad eyes. “You know, for the pain.”
She rolled up your t-shirt sleeve, placing a delicate kiss just above the bandage. She then looked up at you, leaning in and giving your lips just as soft of a kiss.
“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.
You could hear the worry in her voice. You knew she didn’t mean to hit the cut. You all had been having so much fun playing Monopoly then picking on Sam. It was kind of easy to forget you had just been attacked. If it wasn’t for the fact that your bicep burned every time you moved it, then you were sure you would have forgotten about the cut as well.
“All better,” you whispered back to her. Placing another quick kiss on her lips.
You swung your injured arm around her back and pulled her into your side. She instantly laid her head on your shoulder. “I can’t believe you knew,” she said again.
“Please, they were so obvious,” you said. Sam threw her hands in the air, leaning her head back as she let out a long groan. “I caught them in the lobby so many times. I’m surprised none of you ever saw them.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” Tara looked up at you with that adorable pout she used when she specifically wanted to make you feel guilty about something. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other?”
“Wasn’t my secret to tell love.” You smirked down at her, she just rolled her eyes, moving her gaze back to her sister and friends.
Sam’s phone started ringing with Danny’s picture popping up. Tara quickly leaned out of your grasp, snatching the phone from Sam’s hands. She held Sam back with one arm while she used the other to bring the phone to her ear, pretending to talk to Danny.
Sam eventually got the phone back from Tara, choosing to ignore Danny, saying she’d call him back. You knew that was a smart decision for her because if she had answered she would be throwing Danny to the wolves with all of you around. There was no way you or any of the others wouldn’t have ripped that phone back out of her hands and given Danny shit for all the sneaking around.
A few seconds later after everyone’s laughter had died down, everyone’s phone went off at the same time. You turned back seeing Anika reaching for her phone on the coffee table, she had also gotten a text. You all opened the message at the same time, seeing a picture of Ghostface in Quinn’s room, holding her against himself as he was about to bring a knife down into her stomach.
Everyone shot to their feet at the same time. Tara ran towards the bedroom door. You were quick to yank her back by the arm before she could reach the handle, pushing her behind you, towards Chad. Everyone stood frozen, hearing Quinn’s scream and stuff crashing around before everything went silent.
“Run,” Mindy whispered.
The door to Quinn’s room flung open. Quinn’s body came flying out, crashing into Anika, knocking her to the ground. You saw Chad keep hold of Tara’s arm, dragging her out of the apartment with him.
You were about to follow after them when Ghostface jumped in your path, sliding into the door so it slammed shut. He stood between you and the door, swiping his knife at you. You jumped back dodging each of the swipes.
Sam ran into the kitchen, searching for a knife or weapon of some kind. Ghostface moved to follow but you charged at him. He pushed you back with one arm while the other came around, trying to stab you in the side. You turned to the side, the knife just missing you.
Ghostface stomped forward, grabbing Mindy by the shoulder the plunging the knife into her side. Anika, still on the floor, grabbed Ghostface’s ankles, trying to trip him up and get him to release Mindy. Ghostface crashed to the floor. You took the opportunity and pulled Mindy behind you. Ghostface turned crawling on top of Anika before stabbing her in her side, choking her with his other hand as he did so.
You grabbed him by the cloak, intending to yank him off of her. When he got to his feet again, he spun around, swinging his knife. You barely dodged it again, somehow managing to keep a grip on his shoulder as well. He pushed you back until your back was against the wall. You each had a grip on each other’s shoulders, you trying to keep him as far away from you as possible, while he tried to use his grip to pull himself closer.
He gripped his knife tightly, bringing it up, aiming for your chest this time. You used your other hands to catch his arm with the knife as it started to come down.
“Sam!” you shouted.
“All the knives are gone!” she yelled back.
“Sam!” your grip slipped, the knife coming closer to your chest before you tightened your grip again. “Sam!”
Sam didn’t answer you; she ran out of the kitchen with the wooden block that usually held all the knives, smashing it into Ghostface’s head. You pushed him off you while he was disoriented.
Sam grabbed Mindy while you got Anika and ran through the apartment into Quinn’s room. As quickly and gently as you could you sat Anika on the bed. Sam pushed Mindy towards the bed before turning and locking the bedroom door just as Ghostface appeared, banging on the door.
“Bathroom,” Sam whispered, nodding to you as she moved a desk in front of the door. You ran towards the bathroom, nearly tripping on the mess of clothes and blood on the floor. You passed through the bathroom, seeing one of Quinn’s hookups lying in his own pool of blood in the tub. You got to the door, the same time as Ghostface did. You tried slamming the door on his foot, but he slammed his body into the door, pushing his way through.
You quickly abandoned the door, running back to the bedroom to get that door. You turned to close the door, with Ghostface right behind you. You almost had it, but Ghostface got his arm through, slashing blindly at you. Sam quickly joined you, helping you hold the door until Ghostface yanked his arm back. With the door firmly shut you and Sam moved the dresser in front of it.
“Hey,” you nodded towards the window where you could see Danny waving his arms from his apartment.
Sam ran across the room, opening the window. “I don’t know what to do!” she shouted at him.
“I got you,” you heard him yell back.
“Are you serious?” you heard Sam ask before seeing part of a ladder come through the window.
“Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumbled. “Is he serious?” Sam shrugged. Ghostface slammed into the door, causing the dresser to move. You braced yourself against the dresser, trying to get better footing to hold it in place. “Go!” you waved her to go out the window.
Sam looked back at you hesitantly then Mindy and Anika.
“Go,” Mindy said. She was holding a hand to her own wound while also trying to comfort her girlfriend. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Sam nodded, eventually making her way out the window and across the ladder. You heard her shout for the next person.
“Go,” Mindy said, nodding at you.
“Like hell,” you said, struggling against the dresser as Ghostface remained relentless. “I got this,” you nodded back at the door. “Go.” You did not think you actually had it, but you needed Mindy to get across the ladder.
Mindy sighed, giving Anika one final kiss before she made her way across the ladder. You closed your eyes, focusing on using all your strength to hold the dresser against the door. You didn’t open your eyes again until you heard Sam call for who was next.
“Anika, go,” you said.
“I can’t,” she cried, shaking her head.
“You have to. Please, I need to hold the door.”
“Nonononono.
���Anika, please,” you tried pleading with her.
“Y/N just go, I’ll be right behind you.”
“No.”
“Y/N, go.”
Anika stumbled over towards you, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the door and towards the window. The two of you stood at the window, seeing the others safely on the other side in Danny’s apartment. You leaned your head out the window, looking down at the ground, it was one hell of a drop. You were seriously hating the fact that Sam chose an apartment on the top floor. Tara had told you Sam had only searched for apartments on top floors, she had said it would make them safer, she had also only looked at buildings with stairs. You understood it, you truly did, but also damn her paranoia.
“Go,” Anika cried again.
“Come on!” Sam shouted. “You got to move.”
“Anika,” you tried again.
“Go!” she shouted, for the first time since you met her, you could hear anger in her voice. “Please, go. I’ll be right behind you,” she assured you again, her voice back to being soft.
You reluctantly nodded, climbing out of the window and onto the ladder. You were never one to be afraid of heights but something about climbing from one apartment to another across an unstable ladder at least twenty feet in the air while a psycho tried to kill you was absolutely terrifying. You stared straight ahead, focusing on Sam and the safety of Danny’s apartment. Your breath caught in your throat with every shift of the ladder underneath you. Before you knew it, you were at the other side and Danny was pulling you through the window.
You instantly joined Sam and Mindy at the window, calling Anika over. It took a lot of coaxing, but Anika finally got on the ladder, slowly making her way over to you guys. She was in the middle of the ladder when your eyes widened at the sight behind her. Ghostface had gotten into the room and now he stood at the window, he impaled his knife in the windowsill before grabbing the ladder.
“Wha-what?” Anika whimpered.
All of you started shouting at her to hurry, encouraging her as best as you could while trying not to panic her even more than she already was. Anika glanced behind her, catching the sight of Ghostface, she began sobbing, shaking her head that she couldn’t do it. Mindy kept encouraging her, telling her she would be fine, and they were all right there waiting for her. She slowly started moving again when Ghostface lifted the ladder, shaking and rattling it, doing everything in his strength to get her to fall.
Anika was almost there. You and Sam both had your arms stretched out, trying to grab hold of her. Her fingers kept grazing against Sam’s, but Sam couldn’t get a good grip on her. With one final toss Anika went over the side of the ladder.
You reached out, stretching half your body out of the window but you managed to grab her, gripping onto her forearm. You held onto the windowsill with your other hand, trying to keep yourself steady as you held her up. Your arm was burning, you could feel your stitches ripping at the strain being put on your arm. Mindy and Danny held onto you trying to make sure you didn’t go out the window as well. Sam leaned over, trying to reach for Anika to help pull her in.
Anika’s grip slipped, her hand sliding down your arm before latching onto your hand. You groaned, gritting your teeth. You caught the slight sight of blood dripping down your arm out of the side of your eye from where your stitches had certainly fully come out.
“I got you,” you said through gritted teeth, looking Anika in the eye. “I got you.”
Her hands were so slick from her own blood, she started to slip out of your grasp again. You tightened your grip as best as you could. It wasn’t any use, her hand slipped, and you were only holding her by your fingertips. You saw her eyes widen with fear at the realization of what was about to happen. Your fingers gave out and you watched as she fell.
You saw her mouth open; you didn’t hear her scream though. You weren’t sure if you screamed. Everything was so quiet. Your eyes never left her. Your eyes never left her body as she smacked into a dumpster then fell onto the pavement.
You were vaguely aware of Sam yanking you away from the window, pushing you further into the apartment. Sam stood in front of you, looking you over concerned. Her mouth was moving but you didn’t hear any of the words she was saying. You let Anika fall. Anika was dead. You had her in your grasp and you weren’t strong enough. She literally slipped through your fingers. It was all your fault.
#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x fem reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter imagine#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#scream#scream 6#scream vi#he hung up
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“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.
“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”
“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.
“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”
“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”
Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.
“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”
Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.
“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”
“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”
Danny paused. God dammit.
“…Fine.”
“YESSSSSS!!!!”
——
Danny-
“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”
-is so damn tired.
“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?”
Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”
Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”
“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.
Danny chimed in.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”
Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”
Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.
“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”
“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”
Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”
Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”
They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.
But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.
“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.
Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”
“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”
“I don��t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.
“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.
“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”
“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”
"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.
"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."
"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.
"Should we be encouraging that?"
"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.
"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."
"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.
"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"
Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.
“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”
Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”
“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”
“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”
“Sure.”
Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.
“No. Bad Tim.”
“Awww, come on Danny!”
#danny phantom#batman#tim drake#bruce wayne#jason todd#dc x dp#dick grayson#nightwing#bamf danny phantom#dcxdp#dpxdc#Tim is a fanboy above all fanboys#Jason is just straight up not having a good time#baby Jason would totally giggle with a kid and punch a grown man in the face right after#jazz: oh how the tables have tabled#jazz Fenton#Danny Fenton#squatter! danny fenton
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enjoy the butterflies - dr3
pairing: daniel ricciardo x genz!driver, max verstappen x genz!driver
summary: daniel explaining a young female driver that winning isn't always the most important thing
word count: 1.1k
warnings: crying and fluff
note: omg, i love the gen-z driver, i know that there are multiple stories already with that trope, but i hope it‘s okay for me to write some more gen-z driver stories
masterlist / taglist
Daniel Ricciardo, the reserve driver for RedBull Racing, has seen pretty much all about F1 in his time as a racing driver. But a female driver racing? This was news to him. He sees you struggling a lot of times, coming back up to your feet too, but struggling most of the time. He felt bad for you, having been in this exact situation at McLaren a year before.
He once again saw you storming away from your garage, tears stained your eyes. You were disappointed with your performance during FP1. The car was okay, you were in a mediocre car, which was okay, because it was running good. But your performance was not good, at least you thought that. Because when you entered the garage, your engineer was standing there, happy about your performance. It was just you who gave you a hard time. You were the first women in a long time racing in Formula 1, you had to show those misogynist assholes that you were capable of the same things as all the male driver on the grid.
Daniel felt sympathy for you, you were a rookie and female too. With Seb not in the grid anymore, he felt like he had to take over the role as grid dad. So, the next time he saw you, he jogged towards you and stopped you.
„Hey Danny, what’s up?“, you tried not to show him your disappointment in your voice. „Hi y/n, the sky, that’s what’s up“, he laughed his significant laugh and smiled at you. You only shook your head, already forgetting why you were angry. Daniel had a way of letting people forget all their negative emotions by just being him. „Jokes aside, do you think I could talk to you for a second?“ You nodded your head, agreeing to spend some time with the reserve driver.
He led you to the RedBull hospitality, you were unsure of being there, not racing for any RedBull team. Daniel noticed your uncertainty and insured that it was okay that you were there. He took you to Max‘s drivers room, never having been inside. The wall had a big flag of The Netherlands on it and pictures of him and Kelly, occasionally one of him and P. As you looked around, Daniel observed you. You were thin, thinner then usual, shoulders were up to your chin, indicating a tense posture. You were stressed and it showed. Even if you didn’t let anyone know how you felt, your body betrayed you.
„Listen“, Daniel sighed, unsure how to actually tell you what he had prepared in his mind. „With Seb gone I feel the responsibility of taking over the grid dad.“ You met Seb once or twice, he was there when you were still karting. But you were never on the same grid as him. Your admired Seb, posters graced your childhood bedroom with his face on them.
You only nodded, not sure what Daniel was trying to tell you. „What I’m saying is, look kid, you’re good or else you wouldn’t have made it to Formula 1. You’re not here because you sucked anyone off, despite what the Media always says. You’re here because you are good!“, his voice loud and decisive. You looked at him, eyes starting to water. You thought you hid your disappointment well, not really anyone noticing it and no one ever spoke to you about it, not even your engineer.
„I see you, always dissatisfied and angry with yourself, y/n you’re a brilliant driver, always in the points in your first season! How can you be disappointed in yourself?“
You started to cry, not believing a word Daniel has said to you. You were not great with compliments, not believing them and always reflecting them negatively on yourself.
„Enjoy the butterflies. Enjoy being naïve. Enjoy the nerves. The pressure. People not knowing your name. All that stuff. You don’t know when it’ll be the last time. Enjoy being a kid.“
He hugged you, seeing you so upset made him feel bad, he didn’t want you to cry, he wanted to take some of the pressure off. He wanted to help you, not make it worse. You hugged him back, tight. With travelling so much and your family not coming to all of the races, human touch was a rarity. You enjoyed being held in his arms, feeling the warmth of another body and not your heating pad for once.
„Thank you“, you whispered, barely noticeable. He only nodded. He held you for a bit longer, letting you break off the hug. When you did, he looked at your tear stained face, he wiped some of the falling ones away. You laughed, overwhelmed with the whole situation. If the media would walk in at this second, the next headline would probably be; ‚RedBulls reserve driver with Rookie?‘ But he was just like an older brother, or as he said; a grid dad. But more an older brother, because with his jokes and his lightnesses he would never be a dad.
You were thankful of him, you were thankful he told you that and you were thankful that he was there for you. And that’s what you told him. He was happy to hear that. Knowing what if felt like being alone on the grid. Your tears threatened to fall once again, when Daniel took of his ‚Let’s Fuck’ ring and gave it to you. „It’s a reminder to just let all the stupid things fuck themselves“, he looked at you and laughed when the first tear slipped from your eyes.
With a loud thump, the door to the drivers room opened and a visibly confused Max was standing in the doorway. „What did you do to the poor kid, look at her, she’s crying!“, Max exclaimed. His face twisted to a confused look. „Nothing, those are happy tears, right y/n“, Daniel asked you and looked at you with hopeful eyes, awaiting your backup. „Don’t worry Max, Danny couldn’t ever do anything to make anyone cry sad tears“, you insured Max. Him now letting out a breath of air, relieved his teammate didn’t make a teenager cry. „But thank you for your concern Max“, you hugged the older man. He didn’t like hugs in particular, but he knew you were a big hugger, that’s why he always let you.
You were grateful for all the people on the grid, from your engineer to every driver. They made you feel welcome and worthy of your seat. And in FP2 you placed your best placement ever. Without all the pressure coming from you, driving felt like your passion again and not just a proof of what you were capable of doing.
°°°
taglist: @ironmaiden1313
#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#f1 imagine#gen z#genz driver#female driver#red bull racing
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—everywhere, everything
keep my hand in yours ('til our fingers decompose)
pairing: daniel ricciardo x female reader
warnings: parent death, angst, language, driving under the influence, underage smoking/drinking
love, mackie... 6.6k. part two of this guy (but I think can be read stand-alone). I hope I make u all sad enough that you never ask me for a part two ever again <3
I hear you’re snooping around the old stomping grounds. I’d love to be there when you do it. Bring your dad if he’s free. It’ll be a good night, lots of strawberry wine—the real shit this time. All love, (always your) Danny.
— —
Danny is notably absent from your mom’s funeral. Granted, he is in Budapest at the time, and he had two races this weekend. You know this because you still keep tabs on him, even if he’s not yours to keep tabs on anymore, even if there’s nobody to blame for that but yourself.
If you didn’t know better, hadn’t spotted Grace, Joe and Michelle a dozen or so people back in line to greet you and your dad, you would have been able to convince yourself Danny didn’t have a clue your mom was even sick. She went quick, less than eight months from her death sentence to… well. From death sentence to death.
Two hundred and thirty-one days since her diagnosis means two-hundred and twenty-eight days since you broke things off with Danny. So even if he was in town, you probably wouldn’t have seen him. You wish you would have though, that he would have appeared in the plethora of grieving faces. Not for you, but for her. She always loved him, even before you did.
Grace’s arms feel like the light at the end of a dark tunnel when she finally gets to the front of the line. She squeezes you tight, the only way a mother knows how to, and you cry in her arms. Grace doesn’t tell you how sorry she is, or that your mom loved you so much, or that she’s in a better place now. She just hugs you and wipes away your tears.
“Danny wishes he could be here,” she tells you, but you don’t want to think about him and you don’t want to believe her.
“Tell him I said ‘thank you?’” you say, a forced smile on your face. It’s got to be the hundredth of the afternoon. If there’s one thing your mom is—was. If there’s one thing she was, it’s loved. Tell him I hate him, is what you wish you could say to Grace. Or maybe tell him I love him.
A million and two hugs later and you find yourself missing his arms more than you should. He was always a good hugger, and you could use a good hug right now.
— —
You showed up at the property fifteen minutes after the event started. You’d hoped to slip in and out, to at least be able to say you went, that you tried. You had no intention of trying to find Daniel, and you figured it would be easy to avoid him, especially if you showed up after everyone else did—it’s his show, he’s the man of the hour, everyone will be fighting for his attention.
You don’t even know why you came, really. Maybe it’s to figure out how the hell Daniel even got your address to send the invite in the first place. You’d moved half a dozen times since he last knew you. Or maybe it’s that you don’t believe, even after seeing it with your own eyes, that somebody actually had success with growing berries in the heat. It could be that you just… It could be simple, that you miss your Mom, and that everything about that place reminds you of her.
Whatever the reason, you put on a long, flowing sundress, tied your hair back, and slipped on a pair of comfortable sneakers and a denim jacket. You didn’t even bother to tell your Dad—knew he’d want to catch up with Daniel, or maybe want to strangle Daniel. You didn’t want to give him the chance to do either. You park on the dirt road that leads to the vineyard, because the parking lot is overflowing, a pattern you’re beginning to notice since he’d taken over.
The place looks the same as it did last time you were here. DR3 Wines still adorn the fleet of ATVs out front, and the wooden letters on the perfectly red barn are still perfectly white. You give your name to the woman working the door, regret it as soon as you catch her announcing your presence over the radio-headset she wears.
Momentarily, you consider turning around and walking right back to your car. But, you aren’t one to waste a good outfit, not if you’d gotten all dolled up like this, so you walk into the Barn with your head down.
It smells the same inside; wood, lavender, citronella and alcohol. There’s candles burning to make it feel cozy, but they do a poor job at changing the aroma in the air. The walls are still hung with photos, and the counter is still that slab of wood. It’s exactly the same as it was a few months ago, and manages to remind you of the place you grew up without wearing your childhood memories like a costume.
Daniel has always been easy to find in a room. He’s loud, his voice and his laugh vibrate off the walls of whatever room he’s in. He’s loud and he’s confident and sometimes it feels like he’s the only person in a room that’s really alive. That’s how it felt then, at least.
It’s been thirteen years since you last shared a space with him, but the fact you can hear his laugh on the other side of the crowded room assures you that while everything has changed, some things have stayed exactly the same.
You can’t see him, but man can you hear him.
You sign the guest book—proof, in case anybody asks. Proof that you did show up. It’s the top of a wine barrel, DR3 2023 branded into the oak—two tops, because so many people are here. It’s covered in signatures and messages from people he loves. You feel guilty even signing it, but you do.
Congrats Dan—your marker pauses. You scoff at yourself. Congrats Daniel. Time flies, 13 years! The place looks beautiful. Wishing you continued success, you write, finishing it off with your signature.
He still wears the same cologne, you realize, when you look up and he’s leaning against the table watching you write. He wears the same cologne, and the same smile, even if less crooked. Everything else about him is different. His hair is shorter, eyes older. His arms are covered in art, face is all together thinner, and his five o’clock shadow is less of a pipe dream and more of a full-fledged beard. He’s taller, maybe. Or you’re shorter. It doesn’t really matter, you suppose.
You purse your lips into a curt smile. He matches—you didn’t even know he could smile like that. “Hi, honey,” he says, leaning over to read your message.
“Hi.”
“Who’s Daniel?” He teases, the smile on his face growing into one you’re much more familiar with. You look back at your writing, but you don’t laugh. If anything, you’re sure you look a little scared. “I’m teasing.”
“I know,” you nod.
“Okay,” he nods right back, slow, apprehensive over your apprehension.
“Sorry,” you force out a chuckle. “I’m being so weird,” and you adjust the strap on your dress. He shoves his hands in his pocket, rocks back and forth on the sole of his shoes. Do you know how weird it is to be face to face with someone you were head over feet in love with? It’s really fucking weird. You put your best smile on your face, “Hi, sorry,” you continue, opening your arms for what you think might be the most awkward hug you’ve ever given.
He’s quick to pull his hands back out of his pocket, like he’s worried if he doesn’t act fast enough you’re going to rescind the offer.
His touch is uncanny; familiar and comforting and unsettling. It melts the years away and you feel just like you did some twelve years ago when you wished so desperately for one of his hugs. You’re nineteen again, and he’s twenty, and everything feels like it’s going to be okay.
“How are you,” he asks quietly, his arms tight around you. “You look great.”
“I’m okay,” you say over his shoulder, and then again, as if you’re trying to convince yourself: “I’m okay. How are you?”
“Oh, y’know,” he shrugs, pulling away from the hug, gesturing your question away. “Same old, same old.”
“Yeah,” you nod, even though you don’t know. Even though it’s been eleven years since you forced yourself to ignore his existence, since you last kept any sort of tab on him. You can’t get over how different he looks. How you’d still recognize him without a second glance. “You look different.”
He laughs, looks down at himself. At his arms, his hands. He can’t look at his face, but it’s different, too. “Yeah, I guess so, huh?” He keeps looking back at you every time he laughs. He makes sure you’re laughing, or smiling at least, before he lets his slip. “Is your Dad here?”
“No. He uh, he wasn’t feeling well.”
Once upon a time, Daniel could spot your lies from the other side of the vineyard. You get stiff and stuttery, he told you, it’s easy when you know what you’re looking for. That was once upon a time, though, and this is now. Now, you don’t know if Daniel remembers any of those little things about you.
His eyes go momentarily soft, worried, almost. “Just a cold, yeah?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, can I get you a drink? Give you a tour?”
You look around the place—not much to tour. Not when it used to be yours, not when one of his teenaged employees gave you a tour a few months back. He seems so excited about the idea, though, so you go along with it. “Sure. Yeah, that’d be nice.”
“Nice, awesome,” he says, looking around the place like he forgot where everything is. He claps his hands together, pulls them apart into a snap, and points at you with both hands. “Stay here? I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” you chuckle, and it’s genuine. “Staying here.”
“I know you, Bee,” he says, walking backwards away from you. B. He totally knows you’re full of shit about your Dad having a cold. “Don’t try to sneak out while I’m gone.”
“I won’t.”
“You promise?”
You nod. “I promise.”
— —
You, Daniel, and your Mom worked the closing shift that night. When he was around, that’s almost always how it went, because the two of you were the only ones who’d worked there long enough to know how to properly close up without a babysitter.
Your Mom worked tediously in the office counting all the money—she was the slower counter of your parents, but it wasn’t like anyone was ever sitting around waiting on her. There was always something to be done, and Daniel was always good at making sure those closing tasks took up more than a chunk of the evening.
You’d cleaned inside, swept the floors and vacuumed the rugs and cleaned the tables and the counters. You washed glasses behind the bar and restocked displays. The landline on the counter rang while you were writing up the day’s inventory, and you almost didn’t answer it, but your parents had told you to improve on your customer-service skills, even when you or the customer weren’t on site.
To your surprise, the voice on the other end was Daniel’s. He was calling from the cellar, is too lazy to come over there to get shot down. “Is your Mom finished counting?” He asked, and you pulled the phone away from your ear to try and listen past the office door.
“I think so,” you say, bringing the phone back to your ear. “We should be heading out soon.”
Sometimes you feel like you can hear Danny’s smile. “You wanna do the lock check with me?”
You slot the phone between your shoulder and your ear, returning your hands to the task of finishing up your paperwork for the night. You needed to be done when he got here, or there was no chance your Mom let you go with him. “How do you know I’m done with my shit?”
You can hear the lull of the old beat up golf-cart engine in the background, can almost feel the vibrations, can see clear as day Danny sitting there, lounging on the leather seat—tanned skin, unruly hair, toothy grin. “You always finish fast so you can daydream about your boyfriend,” he says, turning the last word into his own little sing-songy ballad.
Your pen pauses on the paper, and you roll your eyes. “Jake isn’t my boyfriend.”
Danny laughs, and you roll your eyes again, pretend like you aren’t smiling. “Oh? But you knew who I was talking about!”
“Because you never shut up about him being into me.”
“Because he is!”
You set the pen down for good, now, grab the phone again because you want to make sure your next words come across loud and clear, even if it is the millionth time you’ve told him. “He’s my friend, Danny!”
“Oh, come on!” His laugh intensifies. “I don’t think a guy has ever been just friends with you.”
“You’re my friend, aren’t you?”
His laughter quells, and you’re sure he’s picking on the plastic of the steering wheel. There are so many scrapes on it from the same thing. He’s always picking at it, ever since you told him to give his poor nails a rest. He has to destroy something, you suppose—teenage boy and all—but you prefer a destroyed golf cart steering wheel to a destroyed Danny, so you let it slide. He sighs, and then he clears his throat, and the memory of your question dies in the silence. “Are you coming with me or not?”
“Are you coming to get me?”
— —
The air is chilly—nippy almost, especially with the sun dipping below the horizon like it is. You’re walking stride for stride with Daniel over the gravel path to the cellar, glass of sweet pink wine in your hand. He’s taking you to the strawberry field, per your request, because even after tasting it, even after telling you which field it’s in, you still don’t believe him.
“So,” he asks, one hand deep in his pocket, the other hanging in the space between your bodies. He’s very hesitant with you today, you’ve noticed. It’s nothing like the brash boy you called your first love. He’s gentle, softer, like he’s scared of his next words. “Who finally put that ring on your finger?” The threat of a smile is weak, but the idea of it alone is charming.
You look at your free hand, carefully decorated with several different rings. “Which one?”
He drops his head to his shoulder, gives you a pathetic smile and a matching chuckle. “The only one an ex-boyfriend would ask you about, Bee.”
The sunlight—the little bit that’s left of it—catches the diamond on your ring finger. “Oh,” you shrug, dropping it back to your side. “It’s Mom’s.”
“I know,” he nods solemnly, and your head shoots over to look at him. You don’t know why he would remember that. “Who put it there, though?”
A smile pulls on your lips, and you bury it in the lip of your wine glass. “I’m not engaged, if that’s what you’re asking,” you laugh. “I just wear it… I don’t know, it makes me feel close to her.”
Sunsets at the property have always been gorgeous. When you were younger, you thought that maybe it was the most beautiful place in the entire world. The blues and the pinks and the yellows all mix together into some grand watercolor and tonight is no exception.
The silence that lingers in the air should be awkward, but it’s not. It should be harder to be here, to watch the sunset, to walk the paths you have memorized, to stand next to Daniel after all these years. It’s not hard, though. It’s comfortable, like it was when you were sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and barely nineteen. Like it was all the time you knew him, even before you loved him.
“I’m sorry,” he finally speaks. “She was really cool.”
You chuckle softly. It’s a familiar routine, consoling those attempting to console you about her death. “That’s what everyone says,” you say, even though Daniel might be the first person to posthumously describe your mom as cool. Lovely, you’d gotten more times than you could count. Beautiful and kind and oh honey, she loved you so much, you knew already. She was really cool, that’s a Danny-original if you’ve ever heard one.
“I should have been at the funeral.”
“It’s okay,” you nod, because his presence wouldn’t have changed that your Mom was lovely and beautiful and kind and that she wasn’t around to be any of those things anymore. There wasn’t anything Daniel could have done to remedy that reality. “You were busy. We weren’t together,” and before he can come back with something, insists that it’s a bigger deal some decade later than it was, you change the subject. “What about you, though? Putting rings on anyone’s fingers these days?”
He laughs. A person can only get poetic about Daniel’s laugh so many times before it’s easier to just leave it at that. He laughs, everyone around him lights up, and he laughs some more. “Believe it or not, my work-life balance isn’t super great at fostering long-term relationships.”
You don’t exactly know what Daniel’s work-life balance looks like. The last time you paid any attention, he was racing with Toro Rosso. Every update you’d heard since had been one you weren’t looking for—commercials and posters and billboards and word-of-mouth; more than a couple ex-boyfriends and a few stray friends.
You never cared much about racing. It was Daniel you cared about.
There aren't a lot of specifics you remember about Daniel’s schedule, but you remember that he was almost always coming or going. There wasn’t much staying, and that was before he’d even made it to the big show. “You mean, women like it when their partners are around for most of the year?”
“They do, yeah,” he nods, dimples digging into his cheeks. “Crazy, right?”
“Crazy.”
— —
Danny didn’t go down without a fight. He caught what had to have been the first flight home—home, you’re not sure that he can call Perth home now that he doesn’t live here. He caught the first flight to you, threw wood chips at your window at three-in-the morning. He didn’t need to wake you up, it’s been two weeks since you had any kind of meaningful sleep. You spend the majority of your time in bed looking at the ceiling fan spin or staining the sheets with your tears.
You let him throw mulch for twenty minutes though, hoping that maybe he’ll give up and leave so you don’t have to face him.
You’d done the breaking up over the phone for a reason. It wasn’t that you couldn’t wait until whenever he was home next. You could. It was that you couldn’t break up with him while looking him in the eyes, and you knew it.
Eventually, though, you pull your pajama-clad frame out from under the warm covers, drag your feet the entire way to the window, pulling the curtains open just enough to confirm what you already knew—that it was him in the driveway. His entire face relaxes when he sees you there, forcing the window open. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“What the fuck am I doing?” He scoffs. “What the fuck are you doing?”
You cross your arms over your chest. The night air is cold and your pajamas are scarce. “I’m trying to sleep.”
He rolls his eyes, always dramatic, always over-the-top. “Come down here, honey.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
You stand there in silence, shivering in your bedroom window. He stands there in silence, thick jacket on and a handful of wood chips from the garden in your driveway. It’s a stalemate, and you don’t know which of you is more exhausted. Appearance points to him, but you dread that fact that you’re standing, that you’re tired enough to give up the fight this quick.
“Fine,” you relent, and it’s less than two minutes before you’re running into him on the back porch, slowly closing the sliding patio door behind you so as to not alert anyone else in the house of his presence. “What do you want?”
“Where are your clothes?” He asks, and is already taking his coat off to wrap around your frame. You huff and puff the entire time he’s doing it, because your lack of clothing was a choice—you were hopeful that he wouldn’t keep you long if you were shivering.
“What do you want, D?”
“I want you to talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”
Your lip trembles, and you bite down on it to try and stop it, chew on the skin until you taste copper and then it still trembles. You don’t look at him, you can’t. “You can’t fix it.”
“No, no,” he argues, grabbing your elbow in a plea, stepping closer to you, speaking hardly above a whisper. “Just tell me, baby.”
You yank your arm away, tone a direct contrast to his when you insist: “You can’t fix it this time, okay!? Nobody can fix it.” You point an accusatory finger, like there’s actually something he’s done to deserve this. There isn’t, there never will be. “You can’t fucking fix everything just because you want to.”
He matches, points his finger at you, presses it into the middle of your chest. Your heart races. “You can’t just fucking break up with me because you want to.”
You swat his hand away, offended by the accusation that you wanted this, that any part of you is enjoying this, finding relief in this. You hate this. Fucking loathe it, but it doesn’t change any of the facts. “I don’t want to,” your lips downturn into a frown, all pathetic and trembled, and your voice cracks and shakes half as much as your lips. The tears that burn in your eyes are reflected back in his, tired and bloodshot and wet.
“Then don’t do it,” he pleads.
You gulp around the lump in your throat, voice leaving your body meekly through tears. “I have to.”
“No, you don’t,” he assures you quickly, his hands slotting on either side of your face, the pads of his thumbs wiping your tears, his fingers locking into the hair at the nape of your neck. He shakes his head before he speaks, brown eyes searching yours, begging you to change your mind. “You don’t.”
His hands on your face are what push you over the edge, turn you from poised and sniffly to half-wrecked—choking on sobs and swallowing snot. It all hits you at once, all the weeks of testing, the days of trying to come to terms with a diagnosis, the hours spent grappling with the fact that nothing will ever be the same about you. You’re changed, now, and you’re only going to continue to change. It’s not Daniel’s responsibility to see you through any of this fucking shit. “I do, I do,” you sob. “I have to, I’m so sorry, I have to.”
He presses his forehead against yours, your tears mixing with his every time your noses bump. It calms you, if only slightly, and your eyes close, mind focused on remembering this, on remembering what it feels like to have his skin on yours, to feel his voice in your bones, to breathe in the same air, the same space, the same atoms.
Your breath is shaky, but the pattern is steady. In, out. In, out. Your nose is so stuffed you can’t breathe through it. Your lips are all but touching his, a stray tremble holding the power to force them together. You don’t know if you want to kiss him or not, if it would make things better or so much worse.
He swallows hard, pulling your faces apart. “I love you,” he mutters softly, like a wounded animal, and then he presses a long, hard kiss into your forehead.
You sniffle, your hands holding onto his wrists. “I’m sorry.”
He nods, drops his arms, your hands falling into his. “Yeah.”
He lets your hands go, lets you go. You feel like you might be sick watching him walk down the steps of the patio, along the path of pavers to the gate. A shiver runs up your spine, and you pull his jacket closed over your chest. His jacket.
You wipe a new set of tears from your cheek with the back of your hand. “Your jacket,” you sniffle, “hold on.”
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn back to face you. “Keep it,” he says, unlatching the gate and slipping through to the other side. You sigh, and then you cough, and then you cry some more before finally finding the ability to move again, to go back inside and up to your bedroom, and that was that. That was the last time you saw Danny. The last moment that he was yours.
— —
You’re walking back from the unbelievable strawberry field, quickly approaching the still lively barn, people and smiles and conversations pouring out into the adjacent spaces. Someone appears in front of you with a camera, with two cameras—one professional, and one a cheap polaroid. Smile, they said, and you laughed, your cheeks burning red.
Daniel slinks his arm over your shoulder, and you step closer to his side. He flashes a toothy grin and a shaka sign to the camera. You hear the shutter of the camera take a dozen photos, and then the photographer holds up the polaroid—one for the road, she says, and Daniel pulls you that little bit closer, you blush that little bit harder.
There’s a flash, and then you both relax, the photo printing out of the bottom of the camera. She holds it out Daniel, but he nudges you with his elbow to take it. You do, even though you aren’t sure you want it.
You shake the polaroid while the two of you make your way into the barn. “What do I do with this?” You ask, looking carefully at the developed print.
Daniel shrugs, leaning over. You flip the photo in his direction so he doesn’t have to lean as far, but he still does. “It’s cute,” he says. “You don’t want it?”
“I mean, I’ll take it, but…” But. But I’m going to throw it away when I get home. But it only reminds me of you. But it only represents what won’t be.
He looks to the wall of photos behind the counter, eyeing the display carefully. You follow his sight line, your eyes going to the exact place you remember the photos of you being. You don’t know why you’re surprised that they’re still there, like you knowing they exist means they’d vanish. “Hang it up,” he says.
You laugh. “Where?”
Daniel shrugs. “Anywhere you want.”
— —
The best part about only being able to afford cheap workers, was that you spent every day at the property with a new teenager looking to have just as much fun as you were. Between that, and the plethora of college kids that were constantly leaving to go back to school, to get a grown-up job, to get any job that paid more than your family could offer—there was always an opportunity for going away parties. And party, you did.
You and your coworkers turned friends had slept down by the river more summer nights than you could count, hiding six-packs in the staff locker-room and hiding ziploc bags of joints behind the six-packs.
Tonight, the going-away party is to honor someone whose face you won’t remember in a year, much less thirteen. He’d worked there for the holidays and not much more, and there wasn’t much memorable about him.
The bonfire on the back of the property snaps and crackles, sparking off into the night and lights everyone in flickers of orange and yellow. The breeze has picked up after dark, and the tank-top and shorts you’d donned earlier in the day aren’t appropriate any more, one of Danny’s hoodies—a purple one that sits in his locker just for you to steal and smells like weed and wood from all the past nights just like this one—takes the chill out of the night and keeps the goosebumps off your exposed legs.
The sky is clear and cloudless, a big moon staring back at you and a million shining stars fill the night sky. It’s times like these you think there’s no prettier place on Earth, nights like these where you feel completely rich.
Two joints are being passed around the circle lazily, laughter and conversation filling the air. The first one comes your way from the left, from Daniel. He takes a long hit, the embers at the end of the paper burning orange with his inhale. He holds it in, nodding his way through someone else’s joke, and exhaling into a laugh.
He looks at you, hesitates to hand it over. “I really don’t want a lecture from your parents tomorrow morning,” he teases, playful smile pulling on his lips, mischievous glint in his eye.
You roll your eyes. “They won’t know,” you insist, to no avail. Daniel chuckles, but holds his resolve and passes the joint around you to the next person.
Undeterred, you keep your eyes on the joint that moves clockwise, that comes to you from the other direction, a path with no Danny-sized roadblock. With practiced ease, you take a hit, exhaling slowly, savoring the warmth in your chest. You meet Danny’s eyes on exhale, find them half-amused and half-concerned, brows raised and smile drawn.
“Whatcha got there?” He laughs, gently taking the joint from her. “I told you not to,” he continues, taking a hit himself before passing it along again. You grin, a wave of giddiness washing over you. It always goes like that when he laughs—makes you all warm and fuzzy and silly.
“It’ll be okay, Danny-boy,” you laugh, leaning against him. Lazily, without hesitation, he tosses his arm over your shoulder and pulls you that much closer. You like being closer, can feel his laugh instead of just hearing it. You like the way his arm rests on your shoulder, the way his fingers trace patterns over the fabric of his sweatshirt, every touch echoing on your skin for minutes. You like being close, even if it makes your palms a little sweatier and your heartbeat a little faster. You could get used to being closer, you think.
The fire is starting to die out now, and the air gets colder. You wonder how long your parents waited up for you to get home. The original excuse was that Daniel had forgotten the lock-check, that you wanted to come along and really, it’s no problem to drive her home. After about fifteen minutes, you’d snuck away from the newly-built fire to make a phone call, to let them know you were grabbing food on the way home and don’t wait up for me. You’re sure they did, though, even if only for a while longer.
Anyway, the air is colder and the joints have been smoked through and the beers have been drunk—not by you, you’re too messy when you’re crossed. And not by Daniel, either, who refuses to drive drunk but insists on driving high.
You yawn under Daniel’s arm, find a way to somehow lean in closer. “Sleepy?” he asks, and you nod. Carefully, like he’s done it a million times before, he presses a kiss into the crown of your head. It’s not the millionth time, it’s not even the second time he’s kissed any part of you. It’s the first time you've felt the press of his lips and you think that you’ll feel it there forever. “You wanna go?”
“No,” you say. “I’ll stay, make sure the fire gets out and everything.”
It’s not much longer, anyway, until the fire is being doused with water bottles and beer and everyone is taking turns spraying the same perfumes and colognes over their clothes in a poor attempt to mask the smell of smoke and weed.
Daniel drives you home. It’s not the first time you’ve been the passenger in his old Ford Bronco. It’s not even the first time you’ve been in the truck while he was high. Usually, car rides with Danny consist of cranked down windows and loud music, of louder conversations and excessive laughter. This drive is quiet, though.
His hands are steady on the wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead. There’s no music, the windows are up, and he doesn’t talk. You watch him carefully from the passenger seat, study him in your paranoia. You haven’t done anything, you don’t think. There’s no reason for him to be mad at you. Unless there is.
“Did you have a good time?” You ask. Danny nods. “That’s good.”
He turns to face you at a stop sign. “Sorry,” he laughs. “I’m trying to focus.”
“It’s okay,” you nod.
“It’s harder,” he explains. “It’s hard with you here.”
— —
The evening you’d anticipated is far from the evening that unfolds. Fifteen minutes, maximum, in and out. That was the plan. But then Daniel—Daniel, and all the far-fetched dreams of him making himself at home in your life, all the passing thoughts you’d had over the years about the what-ifs; the grocery bills and the taxes and the white wine and the rusty barn doors. He glues you to his side for hours that feel like minutes.
The event is winding down, people keep coming up to him, firm pats on the back and handshakes and hugs goodbye. They tell him how great the place is, how great the wine is, how great he is, and you move around like his shadow, smiling awkwardly whenever someone catches your eye and waiting for the next joke Daniel has to crack quietly, just to you.
You stand at a high-table next to him, elbows on the tabletop, shoulders bumping everytime one of you moves. There were people around the table, a reason—an excuse—for the proximity, but they’re long gone now. “You know,” Daniel says quietly, dropping his head against his hands, speaking to nobody in the room but you. “I’ve missed you a lot.”
“Yeah,” you nod, speak just as softly. “Me too.”
He takes a long drink from the wine glass in front of him. Liquid courage, you know now, for what he was going to do next. The glass returns to the tablecloth with a soft pat, and he lets out a heavy exhale. “I heard there’s a new coffee place opening in Northbridge?” He asks, and you assume it’s because he knows your neighborhood, wants to know more about it. The wine has made you naive, or maybe you’d just pushed the reality of his implication so far from your mind that it’s an impossible thought.
“Yeah,” you nod. The new coffee shop in Northbridge is a seven minute walk from your apartment, and is on your way to work. You’ve been eyeing the place since the empty building went up for lease. “It’s got this super cute bakery right next door,” you add. “I think they opened last week.”
Daniel nods. “I’d love to try it out.”
“Yeah,” you continue, still genuine and naive and oh-so silly. “You should. I’ve heard good things.”
He laughs, then. Laughs this specific kind of Daniel laugh that you used to get so excited to hear. It meant he was going to do something for—or to—you. He’d laughed like that before he kissed you for the first time, and he’d laughed like that while orange juice ran down his arm and he asked you out for the hundredth time. He’d laughed like that on every anniversary, every birthday, every holiday. It’s Danny’s you laugh. “I’d need someone to go with, though,” he says. And the laugh and the words and the whole thing clicks. Daniel is trying to ask you out. “I don’t really know my way around Northbridge.”
A lie, objectively. One that confirms the assumption you’d just jumped to. Daniel’s first apartment was in Northbridge. He lived eleven minutes from where you live now. He knows the place like the back of his own hand, knows the streets like he used to know you.
You nod into the bottom of your wine glass, watching the liquid spin around the clear glass. “You don’t?”
He purses his lips, looks all deep in thought. “No,” he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I do.”
“Oh,” you frown, your eyes meeting his. It’s really hard to mess with him when he looks at you like that. Hard, but not impossible. “My dad’s usually around.”
He chuckles. “Your dad, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, a smile pulling impossibly hard on your lips. “Retirement and all, you know.”
“Oh, sure.”
“I guess…” you shrug, stop spinning your glass and set it down altogether. You push it slowly across the tablecloth towards the center. “I could always show you around, too.”
He leans back, stands up straight and scratches his beard, makes a piss-poor attempt at wiping the dimpled smile off his face when he cocks his head to the side and says, “As much as I like your dad…”
“As much as you like my dad.”
And, because Daniel was never really Daniel, because he’s always going to be your Danny, no matter the time or the distance or anything else that should get in the way, he says: “You’ve always been my honeybee.”
— —
“Don’t call me that, Mom,” you shouted from the office, gathering your morning gear. You were working tours with Danny, today, and the two of you had spent all morning bickering over who gets to be lead and who has to be secondary guide. While you shoved the batteries into the walkie-talkies, you could overhear Danny successfully pleading with your Mom. Honeybee, she’d called out to you. Let Danny take Lead today, won’t you?
She laughs. You roll your eyes, slipping behind the counter where she leans, where Danny lounges on a stool. You toss Danny’s walkie at his chest, and he catches it before it hits him. She raises her brows pointedly, meets Danny’s eyes in some shared language, a shared silent remark about you. “Why not?”
“Because. It sounds like something Grandma would say.”
Your mom smiles, twirls the end of your ponytail around her finger. “But you’re so sweet”
Danny chokes on his laugh, shooting up straight in his seat to clear his throat, to cough into his elbow. “She is NOT sweet.”
You scowl, shove his shoulder gently. It only makes him, and your mom, laugh harder. “Hey!”
“You make my life sweet, baby girl,” she hums.
Danny nods, falling back into his comfortable spot, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re kinda like a bee,” he says, leaning back even further. Your entire day would be made by him losing his balance and falling flat on his ass. “You make her life sweet but for me…” he pauses. “You’re just this annoying little buzzing I can’t shoo away.”
Silently, you hold up both middle fingers to him, walking backwards out from behind the counter, towards the back door. Your mom only laughs at you, always laughs at you and Danny. “Love you, Bee,” she calls to you, and winks at Danny.
“Yeah,” he calls, the stool creaking underneath him as he properly stands up. “Love ya, Bee!”
#daniel ricciardo edit#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo fic#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel riccardo imagine#danny ric#danny ricciardo#dr3#f1 edit#f1 fic#f1 fandom#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 2023#f1 x you#f1 x reader#daniel ricciardo angst#daniel ricciardo fluff#formula 1#formula one#thank u noah kahan for being daniel coded time and time again#also not me posting this in the middle of the night for Europe on a sunday#shes gonna flop. and she's gonna flop hard
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𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 — 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: highkey just wanna go on a lil date with ethan. i'm guessing he doesn't have much experience with girls but him being nervous would be so 🤭you would've asked him out to satisfy your friends considering you talked about him a lot, not realising he'd say yes. that made you incredibly nervous but i feel like the date would either be a movie (cliche ik) or bowling. maybe a group date? but the rest of group would let you sit alone with ethan to talk to him about star wars or something nerdy. just kissing his cheek before getting off the subway and thanking him for a fun night. crying
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Umm, lots of cussing, fluff. SPOILERS?? I don’t know if this has spoilers honestly.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,867
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader
𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! Char’s gonna give me shit cause I don’t know much about star wars. Also I didn’t do the subway scene. Ugh I hope you like it love!😭
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
“You’re gonna join us for bowling tonight right?” You snapped your head up at Chad who threw a knowing smirk your way. You roll your eyes, fixating your attention back onto your term paper.
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.” You let out a laugh at his bluntness.
“Great!” You emit a laugh of amusement.
“Find a date yet?” This shook your core as your paper was now long forgotten. Your jaw slacked open in shock.
“Date? What do you mean date?” You sat up straighter in your chair. “No one said anything about dates!”
“Are you fucking with me?” Chad’s shoulder fell in disbelief. “I got Tara. Sam’s bringing Danny. Mindy and Anika are coming together. Quinn’s bound to bring along some new arm candy. That just leaves you...” He trailed off in a wince. “And Ethan.”
“But I’m not- Wait he’s going, what the fuck why wasn’t I informed about this?” You quirk an eyebrow at him.
“Cause we know how you get when he’s around. We wanted to ease you into it tonight.” He laughed at you as you grew all flustered. You looked back down at your paper. “Would it kill you to ask him out? Put him out of his misery.” You glance up with a timid glint in your eyes. You find interest in fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Spinning them in a circle to relieve you of this specific conversation you try to avoid. “Mindy still has her obvious suspicions about him. But after rooming with the nerd for months. He checks out okay. I think he’d be good for you.” He reached out to place a comforting hand over your own. “I think it’s time you let yourself have some fun. I know you should...” Then came the dreaded words he hesitated to say. “Wes would too.”
Your eyes meet him for a brief moment. The odds of a repeat from those last ten months were odd. Yet upon losing Wes, you put off any sort of dating. Especially with guy’s you hardly met, yet still conjured up a crush on. Who was to say that this wouldn’t turn out to be a good thing though. Maybe letting loose for once would be good. Just maybe. You weighed your options as you bit your bottom lip.
“Come on...I see those knobs turning. You know you want to...” He sing songed.
“You don’t know what I want.” You pushed his hand away playfully.
“Don’t have to. You’re doing that thing-” He gestured to his lips. “It’s your tell.”
“My tell...Okay!” You raised your hands up in defense.
“So you’re gonna ask him. Before tonight.”
“Well I-”
“Great because he’s coming this way right now...Hey Ethan over here!” Your eyes grew as Chad waved him down.
“Are you fucking kidding me!” You ducked, trying to hide your flustered state.
“Hey guys...” Ethan's charming smile graced you. God that fucking smile did things to you.
“That’s my cue-” Chad pointed in the opposite direction and stood up from his chair. “Hey buddy, what’s up? How about you take my seat, yeah. I gotta run anyway.” Chad gestured over his thumb, then made Ethan plop down right in right of you. He huffed from the firm hand on his shoulder.
“Chad-” You begin to pull at his sleeve.
“Y/n has a very important question to ask you by the way. Okay, you two have a wonderful rest of your remaining classes, alright. See you tonight bud!” Chad pointed at Ethan in his dismissal.
“Tonight? What’s tonight?” Ethan questioned with confusion written over his face.
“You didn’t fucking invite him- Chad! Son of a bitch...” You call after him, as he throws a shit eating grin your way. His thumbs up doing nothing to comfort you in any shape or form. You close your eyes, then glance back at Ethan, who seemed too pure for this world as the corners up his lips lifted into a faint smile. You breathed out a nervous laugh as you sat up tall again. You placed your elbows on the table as you tapped your fingers in a rhythmic pattern on the tabletop.
“You wanted to- ask me something?” He nodded, recalling Chad’s words.
“Yeah I did...” You daze off not wanting to meet his gaze just yet. “I do!” You exclaim quickly. “God I’m not good at this...” You throw your head back as if the ceiling was going to provide you with some answers...and hopefully even the strength. Rather more...have the balls to ask Chad’s cute ass roomate out on a date because heavens know you didn’t have them.
“You think I’m cute?” Your heart and soul freeze up. Your head moves back down, shock didn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.
“Did I say that out loud?” Your chest rises and falls.
“I could lie and say no...” He shrugs. He shrugged, he fucking shrugged. He wasn’t teasing you or giving you shit. He just fucking shrugged, offering to lie to save your remaining dignity. At this point you either went all in, or you grabbed your things and got the hell out of there. Sadly you were glued to your chair.
“I do think you’re cute- hot actually. Like in that nerdy attractive type of way, and you’re fucking tall, which is honestly an added bonus to be honest. Holy fuck okay-” Your palms now laid flat on the table. “I’m honestly not surprised Chad hasn't invited you yet. I think this was his plan...to finally have me ask you out on a date.”
“You-” Ethan begins. His eyes soften.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now, yeah!” You answer his question. “Were going bowling tonight in case you were wondering.” You inquire. “I’m not that great, but I magically get a strike every once and a while, are you any good at bowling?” Your question catches him off guard. He’s still trying to process the fact that the girl he likes just asked him out, and you have yet to let him say yes.
“I think I’m okay.” He laughs out.
“Okay great you’re on my team then.” You nod. You tap and tap and tap your fingers on the tabletop. Hoping the silence that weighed over you like pressure fated, but you both didn’t know what to do. You poured out inner most thoughts out of impulse. No self control, just flat out admitted to your consciousness thought. Good thing you didn’t blurt out the fact you like to imagine it was him as you touched-
“Holy shit, okay!” Ethan readjusted himself in his seat. Mouth agape. His face was beet red at this point.
“Did I say that out lo-”
“Yup, you did!” He chewed on his lips, as he shook his head with his eyes closed shut. “That’s an image I will not be able to get out of my head...” He mutters out slowly.
“I’m gonna shut up now.” You facepalm yourself.
Ethan couldn’t believe this was happening. Let alone half the shit you just admitted to him. Yet as his eyes fell on your embarrassed state. He couldn’t help the beaming smile on his face. He shook his head in amusement. He leaned closer. Placing his elbows on the table as he leaned over half the table now. “Yes...my answers yes by the way.”
You pull down your hands. The slightest peek of your eyes meeting his coy smirk and the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Wait really? I thought I totally just blew it.” You breathe a laugh out.
“No, not with me. Though I don’t think you should tell the next guy after me that you like to touch yo-”
“Yeah, yeah okay! Point taken.” You waved him off. You meet in the middle, with beaming chuckles and giggles. “Though you got one thing wrong...”
“What’s that?”
“There’s no one else- after you that is, if this doesn’t work. Just you...” You shrug nonchalantly.
“Just me?” He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. He doesn’t miss the obvious glance at his arms.
“Just you.” You nod. You both glance away from each other. Growing timid under the others lingering gaze. Though it’s not till Ethan gently brushes his finger against the top of your fingertip, just faintly enough you can’t miss it, that you slowly follow the buttons of his shirt, up to his awaiting gaze.
“You wanna get lunch with me?” He lets out softly. An awaiting lapse of hope falls behind those two brown eyes of his. Your mind was already made up at this point.
“Yeah, I’d loved to.” You give a firm nod, then begin to gather up your things. Your paper would have to be finished later on in the evening, or during the weekend. As you place your laptop back into your bag, and zip it up, Ethan stands up and offers to carry it.
“Here let me...” His signature grin decorated his face again.
“Sure you can carry two bags?” You tease, as he swings your book bag over his left shoulder.
“You did not just say that.” He mocks hurt as you walk out of the study room you requested to be in.
-
Night came around quicker than you would have expected. You and the group had taken the subway to head on over to the bowling alley many classmates suggested to go to. Seeing as you had never done atomic bowling. The group decided to head on around 9 to let you have the experience of bowling in the dark. You thought it had been a sweet gesture on their part. Your eyes grew with excitement seeing the lights turned off, and the monitors playing music videos. The glow in the dark theme satisfied your inner child.
Now you were seated in a booth, laughing about something Ethan was whispering in your ear, well at least from what Chad could tell. His staring caught the others attention, they too now engrossed in the happy pair on a date.
“Okay when did that happen?” Tara scoffed in disbelief, but the smile painted on his face told the group she wasn’t anything other than happy for you two.
“That would be my doing.” Chad bowed for his friends.
“You did that, when?” Tara slapped his shoulder.
“Mmm...Today.” He shrugged then flinched back to avoid another smack from her. “Look, she was hesitant to ask him out. I just gave her that extra push.” He raised his hand up in surrender. Then gestured at the two of you with open palms. “Come on...you can’t tell me that they don’t look good together.” You had thrown your head back in fits of giggles. Ethan watches you with admiration and a longing gaze.
“They do look cute together.” Sam chimed in, then glanced down at Danny, whose lap she sat in. Mindy’s scoff fell through the air though, all eyes fell onto her now.
“I still don’t trust the guy.”
“I course you don’t.” Chad shook his head. “You and your rules.”
“Hello! It’s basic horror movies 101 shit. Never trust the love interest.” Mindy gestured to Ethan resting his arm over the back of your head of the booth. “We’ve only known him for how long? Trust me there’s something about him.”
“Yeah...my roommate likes our friend!” Chad gestured to you. “When’s the last time you’ve seen her smile like that. Heard her laugh. It’s been too fucking long. She’s happy, she’s letting go. Moving on from Wes!” He reminded her with a frown. “Let her have this Mindy. Can we leave the two lovebirds alone now and enjoy this wonderful time tonight. Danny, your turn, my man.” He picked up a ball and gestured it to him. Danny patted Sam’s thigh to let him get up. He took a swig of his beer then took the ball from his hands. “That’s what I’m talking about!” He slapped Danny’s back. The others chimed in with cheers and woops.
“Are those two ever gonna play?” Mindy gestured to you with the rim of her beer.
“Mindy, you added their names in last. There’s ten of us!” He jabbed at her. Then pointed to the screen on the overhead of their lane. The group turned to the monitor screen. Their eyes started from the top and trailed down all the way to the bottom. Yours and Ethan’s name mocking her. She winced.
Quinn
Paul.
Mindy
Anika
Chad
Tara
Danny
Sam
Y/n
Ethan
“I don’t think they seem to mind it though. Look.” Quinn looked off from the monitor then gestured to Ethan, who leaned into your side further. His face hidden as he whispered in your ear.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Sam asked with a laugh.
“You wanna get out of here?” Tara chimed with a deep voice.
“Oh yes, Ethan. I’d love to!” Quinn said in a pitched tone.
“That is not what they’re saying.” Sam rolled her eyes but couldn’t contain her laugh.
“That is exactly what they’re saying!” Tara laughed.
-
“They’re staring at us.” He chuckled softly into your ear. Your smile only widened as you slowly turned towards him. Your eyes cast over to your friends then back to him.
“I know. They’ve been doing that since we sat down.”
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Ethan looked at his arm resting in front of you on the table.
“Probably trying to meddle their way into my love life.” You sigh as you lean back against the arm behind you. You glance over to them, and catch Mindy being the last to avert her eyes. “Though knowing Mindy, she’s still trying to scope you out.” Your heart feels wounded seeing his happy demeanor shift into one of doubt.
“She doesn’t like me very much does she?” He emits a nervous chuckle.
“No, it’s not that. She’s just a bit cautious about letting in new party members. Trust me, she’ll get over it once you get to know her. Once she gets to know you. Trust me okay. You have nothing to worry about.” You reassure him. He dips his head then picks it right back up. His eyes flicker down to your lips then your eyes.
“I trust you.”
“Good, I’d worry if you didn’t.” You hum, taking the opening to let your fingers caress over his lightly, just like he’d done so back in the study room. He chuckles then initiates your hands holding. Your right thumb and his left begin the ultimate thumb war. You both fight to the finish not wanting to lose.
“You’re cheating!”
“You’re cheating!”
-
“Gross...” Mindy takes a sip of her beer.
“What? It’s cute.” Tara slacks her jaw in shock.
“What are they five? A thumb war, really?” Mindy evaluates and gives her opinion as though this was a scary movie she was critiquing for the poor acting of the clueless character who couldn’t clearly sense the presence of the killer creeping up behind her.
“Mindy!” Chad sucks his teeth.
“Hey!” She pouts. “I’m just saying. Shouldn’t they be kissing instead of a thumb war or something? I can’t give my two cents now, but fine, it’s none of my business. To each their own I guess.”
“You’re unbelievable you know that, and quit fucking staring.” Chad greets his teeth as he calls her out.
“Like you fuckers weren’t all doing it earlier.”
“Well, we’re not anymore...so quit it. Alright, who's next? There will be a victor tonight and I’m making sure of it.” Chad clasped his hands together.
“That would be the love birds...who are about to kiss, holy shit. I knew it!” Mindy pointed to the cheesy movie scene happening a booth down from the group. They all whipped their heads around in time to watch a love story in the making. Their hearts warming as a nervous Ethan leaned in, gently planting a slow kiss on you. Chad whistled low enough so you wouldn’t hear him. He placed a hand over where his heart lay.
“That’s what I’m talking about people. Thank you god! I knew that kid had fucking game. Am I a matchmaker in the making or what?”
“Or something...” Mindy snickered. Chad frowned and flipped her off.
“Fuck you, Mindy!”
“Fuck you, Chad!”
“So who’s gonna go break them up...” Anika gave her two seconds of still being present in the moment. All heads looked back, watching as you and Ethan were too engrossed in each other's arms...and mouths. One hand locked into Ethan’s curls as he cupped one side of your face. Chad looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Not it!”
“Not it!” “Not it!” “Not it!” “Not it!”
“Not it!” “Not it!”
“Shit!” Chad cursed. He looked back to your heavy but slow make out session, then to the monitor. A flash present over your name to indicate that it was your turn. “Anyone want an extra turn?” He clasped his hands. Two hands, Tara’s and Sam’s flew up, willing to fill in for the two clearly horny teenagers a booth down.
#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry imagines#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry x fem!reader#my gif#writings by juls
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So! Giving my reblogs to this amazing art by @providencehq their own post so I can keep adding on to this fic at my own leisure.
Please don't ask to be tagged. I'm relegated to mobile and simply cannot keep up with a taglist. All additions will be going in the reblogs on this post, though. So feel free to come back here periodically to see if I've added more.
I'm currently up to 3 chunks with 1 more in planning.
So, without further ado:
Caught and Content
Daniel James Fenton had died at 14.
And every day since then he has counted as a blessing. Especially the good ones, but even the bad ones. The terrible ones. The days so horrid that Danny wouldn’t wish them on the worst beings in the universe. Danny treasured them still. Because every breath, every too slow heart beat, even the ones that pulsed with terror and exhaustion and agony, every one was a miracle. A moment of life that Daniel James Fenton wasn’t meant to have any more.
Borrowed time.
That’s what it was.
Danny had been living on borrowed time since he was 14. And he had long since made peace with the fact that his borrowed time would some day run out.
He’s 20 now. 6 whole years he wasn’t meant to live but did anyway.
A few more months and Danny would be 21, old enough to buy his first alcoholic drink. But even if he lived that long now, he wouldn’t get the chance. The GIW would ensure that. Tuck had celebrated his 21st a couple months ago, and Sam a few months before him. Danny would never get to celebrate his with them.
But that was okay. As said, Danny had long since made peace with the uncertain nature of his borrowed time. He didn’t need to go out to a bar with his friends and celebrate that he had survived 21 whole years. It would have been a lie anyway.
Daniel James Fenton had died when he was 14.
He was in the Watchtower now. Power suppression cuffs and collar making his already battered body feel even more weak and achy. Batman was staring at him. Superman and Wonder Woman seemed to be telling him things. Or asking. Interrogating. Danny paid them no mind. No answer he’d given them before seemed to satisfy. And he already knew what would come next.
These were government sanctioned heros. They were bound to the law. And the law said Danny must be turned over to the GIW. And since Danny had already escaped them and his parents once, he doubted they’d be keen to lock him up again. Research be damned, Phantom was too dangerous to be left alive. Or whatever facsimile of alive Danny existed in right now. Daniel James Fenton had died when he was 14.
So Danny ignored the government sanctioned superheros. He didn’t let his mind wander to tomorrows he’d never have. He had made peace with his death. So now he took every moment left of his breathing beating blessing to turn his gaze out the large Watchtower window.
Nothing else mattered as Danny beheld, breathed in, drowned in the last he’d ever see of the infinite beauty of the cosmos. He let himself relax, smile, and relish in the miracle of being here, of being allowed to see it one last time. And up so close, too.
And when the heros grew tired of Danny’s distraction. When they led him to a new room without any windows to peer out of. Danny stayed relaxed. Stayed smiling. He closed his eyes and waited for his borrowed time to run out. Even as Batman stared and Superman and Wonder Woman interrogated and the power suppression devices drained him of excess energy and he’s pretty sure the GIW were on their way to arrange his execution; he was contented.
Danny was not afraid. He was happy. At peace. Why would he be scared? After all, Daniel James Fenton had died at 14. Every moment since has been a blessing he has been grateful to have.
Because
Daniel James Fenton had died at 14.
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It was quiet. That suited Danny just fine. After all, he had endured enough to realize that noise often meant something was about to happen. Nowadays the only times he heard something that wasn’t caused by himself was if Cujo came to visit. The first time it happened, Danny was afraid he would have to fight again, but all they did was play for a while. The second time he welcomed it, same with every time thereafter.
He had plenty of time to stargaze. Nobody really visited the Antarctic, so it was perfect for him. Cold, quiet, and with no light pollution, so he could see every single star in the night sky. He could see the Southern Lights as they dance through the air, he could trace the paths of the planets as Earth rotates.
He wanted to leave. He wanted to explore. He wanted to see all there was to see, get lost in the endless cosmos, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know if his human half would survive that long without food. He didn’t want to find out.
Besides, Jazz was here. She was still on Earth, and as much as Danny wanted to leave, he couldn’t. Not while she was still here. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to visit her, to see the disappointment that would no doubt be clear in her eyes, he couldn’t completely abandon her.
As with every time he thought about Jazz, he briefly considered visiting her, but decided against it. If she really wanted to find him she could use the Boo-merang. The fact that it hadn’t happened yet was enough proof that his presence was unneeded.
Besides, why would he leave? He has a sick tower made out of unmeltable ice! It’s been furnished with things that, admittedly, he may have stolen, but only things that would have been destroyed soon anyways! He doesn’t cause any of the disasters that endanger so many pieces of furniture, but he’ll take advantage of it! You can only sleep on hard ice so many times before you realize how nice beds really are.
The point is, he doesn’t leave unless he has to. And since he’s furnished the place, he hasn’t had to leave once. It’s been like a slice of heaven- No ghosts to fight, no hunters to hide from, no insane billionaires who can’t decide whether to kill him or adopt him…
Danny looked up at the night sky again. He could see Acrux twinkling brightly overhead.
It was quiet.
———————————————
“I’ve got bad news and worse news.” Constantine announced at the next League meeting. “Bad news, beings from the Infinite Realms are, from this point forward, unable to be summoned. Wouldn’t be too bad if we weren’t trying to make peace negotiations with them, but we are, so it’s not great.”
Batman remained visibly impassive, though anyone who knew him could tell just how unsettled that made him. “And the worse news?”
Constantine sighed. “So… Before they blocked themselves off, I spoke to one of them. The Guardian of Time. He told me that, due to his perception of all time, he knew we would lose. Luckily he doesn’t want humanity to die, but he told me that Phantom ghost has a medallion in his chest that makes him immune to his abilities. As such, our one hope of survival could be anywhere by now. The only things he could tell us were that he’s probably not far from Earth, because he still has living relatives.”
Superman straightened up. “That doesn’t sound like it’s worse news. We know Phantom is near Earth and that he’s got relatives here. Surely he would go back to them, right?”
“Well. I didn’t really get to that part yet.” Constantine shifted uncomfortably. “You have to swear to not tell anyone who doesn’t already know. This is like people learning your civilian identities. If you ever try to use it against them, hell, even insinuate that you’re gonna use it, then they will kill you, and they won’t face punishment from their court because it’s technically self defense. Understand?”
Everyone readily agreed. After a second, Constantine continued.
“Phantom is Danny Fenton. He’s what the Guardian of Time called a Halfa, half ghost and half human. His parents are the ghost hunters who started this whole thing.”
Tag list: @random-dude12 @overtherose @osnii @profounddestinyrebel @currentlyalivebutmentlyd3ad @thatonegirl10 @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @epilepticnerd @alcorbearson @hoarder-of-gender @sirtin @oddessy @naluforever3 @litlecameron @skulld3mort-1fan @nogenderonlyfrogie @screamingtofillthevoid @the-church-grimm @malice-of-the-sunrise @jaytriesstuff @legowerewolf @akikkobara @apointlessbox @midigeria @kumoko-yokai @antmeisteronion @lizz-blizt @anonymousf28 @keegan-parker @sailor-goddess @rowanaway-fromthisbs @yjfk @screechingnoises @myfloweryrose @derpxp @adeniumdream @56thingsinaname @demiourgias @alice-hazelwood @mur-ururu @blue-avis @rosecinnamonbun @babbling-babull @yumeyoruppr @haron-ghost-10 @icedbluesoul @busterkeel @cat-in-a-fedora @sadpersonmadeoffruitpunch
#Quasar AU#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x dc#justice league#so yeah Clockwork knows that the future looks shitty#but when the only chance at stopping it has an artifact that immunizes him to your future sight#what else can you do#yup. next chance Clockwork gets you know he’s gonna take that back.#for now the JL are gonna have to spread out#but Danny lives in a tower made of ICE.#it’s reflective. whoopsie#also the tag isn’t working for a few people#if you asked to be tagged but it isn’t working please understand I tried#also put this off for like a week because of the tag list ugggghhh#part 2
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Every little thing you do- Part 5
Tommy Shelby x reader
Series master list
I changed slightly what I already had written after reading someone’s comment on the previous part 🤭 I always love reading what you think, sometimes it even sparks an idea or two… 🥰
Word count: 3,213
Y/N walked excitedly through the Shelby Company headquarters. She was granted with the permission to open the Shelby Institute, it was incredible how much Tommy’s contacts helped her speed up the process. Now she’d need to interview and recruit teachers, cleaning personnel, a couple of secretaries and enroll the children for the upcoming school year.
But as she got closer, Tommy’s shouting became clearer.
“Don’t fucking try to trick me, Lizzie.” He warned.
Then Y/N flinched when Lizzie raised her voice. “What’s your fucking problem then? If I sleep with Angel, his father or his cousin it’s none of your business!”
“Of course it’s my business!” He exploded. Anger raising at the thought the Changrettas getting sensitive information from his secretary, Lizzie had a big mouth when she wanted to. In more ways than one. “How much is Changretta paying you?”
“So you can choose who I sleep with,” Lizzie spat, “but you are covering Y/N’s pregnancy and treating her as if she was a Shelby!”
She was now able to understand all the secrecy around Tommy’s confident, why suddenly everyone wanted to make sure she was alright, why she was around more frequently. The thought of Y/N fulfilling all the dreams that belonged to her, made Lizzie go mad.
What was happening with the Changretta family? Y/N wondered as she overheard the heated exchange coming from Tommy’s office. The last thing she knew about them was when Danny Whizzbang was falsely killed in front of the Italians. But that was a few years back.
“I know her parents kicked her out.” Y/N heard Lizzie again. “What? You thought I wouldn’t find out? So now you’re pretending to be the perfect little family?”
That’s why Scott disappeared overnight. Lizzie wondered for how long they’ve been fooling everyone.
“Since when do I have to give you explanations, ey? You’re not answering me! What have you told Angel about us?” His hands shook her shoulders abruptly.
“Oh please! Don’t give yourself that much importance, the last thing we do is talk about you. And you don’t have the right to question my decisions, when you’re supporting Y/N and her bastard.”
That last statement was enough for Y/N to feel her blood boiling.
“Repeat that in my face. I dare you.” She opened the door with such force that it slammed against the wall behind. Lizzie paled.
Tommy recognized that look, he barely had time to react and intercepted Y/N midway.
“Y/N calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Y/N shouted, if it wasn’t for Tommy she would’ve already slapped Lizzie. “I’m tired of this, everybody thinks they can call my child bastard just because I’m not married.” She had to bite her tongue to stop her from telling a truth or two to Lizzie. She rarely got angry but once she did, there was no going back.
“Lizzie get out, I don’t want to see you.” Tommy barked as he tried to help Y/N to sit down. Then he realized they had an audience outside his office. “What are y’all doing there?! Go back to work!”
Once he had her settled on the couch, he offered Y/N a glass of water.
“Don’t let her words sink in. It’s bullshit.” He tried, but Y/N was still altered.
“She from all of the people, dares to point her finger at me.” Y/N said sarcastically and rolled her eyes. “And just because I thought Scott was-” she trailed off.
“You’re much better without him, you know that right?” Tommy crouched down, to be at her level.
“Will this ever stop?” Y/N’s voice cracked by the end, emotions at its highest.
“I’ll shoot anyone who dares to say anything like that again.”
His hands tried to calm her trembling fingers. His words managed to earn a small smirk from her, Tommy’s words managed to make her feel better momentarily. But she couldn’t help but wonder for how long she’d be able to deal with comments like that. She’s need to create a shell around her, a thick skin as Ada had told her. Give zero fucks about others people’s opinions.
“It’s like I’ll have it tattooed in my forehead for the rest of my life.”
“What the hell happened?” John demanded to know.
“Get some men to follow Lizzie, she’s been seeing Angel Changretta and we don’t know what kind of information she’s been giving them.”
“Ah the brat!” John made an annoyance face and stormed off.
To try to calm the anger raising, Tommy poured himself a glass of whiskey, not wanting to snap at Y/N for the previous altercation with Lizzie.
The Italians had always give him and his people a bad blood, they thought they were better than anyone else. And in the long run, a relationship between his secretary and one of the Changrettas would bring him more problems than good. Lizzie knew way too much about the business, he couldn’t just fire her.
He needed to find a loose end, something to stop them, to show his power over the Italians. He needed a plan…
Love and sex are a dangerous thing, people get blinded by it and he could’ve a snitch under his nose, he needed to be more cautions with the people he hired and make it clear the unwritten rules and conditions to work for him.
“I should’ve told you sooner.” Y/N mumbled, feeling guilty.
“You knew?” The frown on his brow intensified.
“Not exactly, but one day she started making weird comments about a date and her love life and oh this incredible man…” Y/N shook her face. “I thought she was just bluffing.”
“Yeah you should’ve. But it doesn’t matter now…” he trailed off going for a glass of whiskey, it was still early but he felt like a lion in a cage.
Y/N noticed the way his mind was working, already anticipating to endless possible scenarios and outcomes. Then he paused to rest his arms against a chair and let his head hang loose. The straps of the holster tightened around his shoulders and back, his muscles flexed under the shirt.
“Are you jealous?”
Tommy’s head snapped at Y/N’s words. Taking him by surprise.
“As if you didn’t knew me, you from all of them.” Tommy scoffed, but his eyes softened. “Really? You think I’d be jealous for Lizzie?”
Y/N blushed embarrassed for asking something so intimate. It wasn’t her business.
“Forget I said anything.” She looked in the opposite direction.
“Look at me.” Tommy pleaded with a deep voice. “Lizzie… is not the type of woman that would make a man jealous.” How could he say it nicely? Lizzie was a whore, he didn’t judge her though… But he tried to be cautious with his words.
It took Y/N a moment to register what Tommy meant. But she got the hint wrong. “I get it… just like me, right?”
Mortified, Tommy placed his hands on her shoulders. “No, no that’s not what I was trying to say.” The last thing he wanted to was to hurt her.
“Sure.”
“Y/N…” Tommy whispered, using his forefinger to tilt her head up. “You’re different.”
“The only difference is that she gets paid.” Y/N shuddered, accepting her new reality.
“That’s not true and you know it.” He was too close for her to smell his aftershave and cologne.
His thumb caressing softly her chin.
Shaking her head, she took a step back, but the bold movement made her feel dizzy, her head started spinning.
“What is it?” He asked with worry. “Are you alright?”
Y/N let him guide her to the closest chair. “Yes, it’s just this dizziness, it will go away in a minute.”
But despite Y/N’s efforts to calm him down, Tommy got worrier by the minute.
“Do you need anything?” He eyed Y/N, trying to read her expressions.
“No, thanks.”
“Y/N tell me what I can do for you.” Tommy kneeled before her.
The way he showed her that he genuinely cared about her, melted her heart. Having Tommy’s support meant to her more than words could express.
“I swear I’m fine.”
“Are you feeling poorly?” Polly stepped into Tommy’s office.
“She got dizzy.” He answered for Y/N, looking at his aunt.
“I’ll make you some tea.” She announced before giving Y/N a gentle squeeze on her arm. “Keep her with her head up until it pases, then bring her to the house, I need to speak to you.”
Polly’s look didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy.
He knew those eyes and something was happening, and judging by the look in them it had to be serious.
“I just came to tell you that you can set now the date to open the Institution as soon as we get the personnel.” Y/N announced with her eyes still closed.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard today.” The smile he gave her, was inevitable. “Can I help you with anything?”
“I don’t think you want to go through the interviews and stuff.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at him.
“No.” Tommy answered bluntly.
“That’s what I thought.” She gave him a smile that made him notice something else in her features, something that she didn’t have before, or at least he haven’t noticed… until now.
“Okay so you can sign those papers for me so I can go and sort this out?”
Tommy took the folder and placed his signature on the papers without even reading it. “You’re not taking off my money right?” He joked, the light mood in his voice mirrored in his eyes.
“Absolutely how do you think I’ll feed this baby?” She kept the joke going, feeling a bit better.
“Let me know how this goes.” He saw Y/N take her belongings and the papers. “Y/N how about a party to raise funds for the project? The school needs funding.”
Y/N ran her hand on the door thinking about it.
“A… fancy party?”
Tommy nodded. “With waiters and champagne and shit.” He had access now to the elite members club, people with enough money in their accounts to end poverty but selfish enough to not give away a single coin.
“Could you organize it?” He asked hiding his hands in his pockets.
“Yes, I can do that.” Excitement made her skin tingle, she had never been to a party like that, only once when Lady Winchester requested her to be by her side, but her place was to be back in the shadows, not as a guest.
“You’ll need a dress then. And some fancy shoes too.”
A dress! He had said a dress! She couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of it, she, a no body getting all dressed up to attend a rich people gathering while several weeks pregnant.
“You must not spare on anything, alright? I’ll give you a blank check so you can arrange all of it.” He explained proudly. His dreams finally materializing.
Y/N took in his success, all of the things he ever wanted, he never stopped, never complained. No, instead he focused on finding a way to do all that would take him to where he wanted to be.
His hard work and intelligence was admirable. He never relied on excuses. And despite what everyone might think of his imposing presence, he had a heart of gold and a genuine interest to help.
“Tommy?” Her soft voice pulled him out of his daydream. His blue eyes fixed on hers. “I’m so proud of you.”
She didn’t know how much her words meant to him. How he’d treasure and savor their taste… Y/N was the only person that saw him crying over his mother’s grave, she had been the one who helped him to be a part of the man he used to be when he got back from France, she heard him talk for hours of the horrors he had seen. And now she was helping him materialize his dreams, but in a very subtle way because she wasn’t impressed or interested in the luxury he could afford, she didn’t assume he’d give her everything, no, she wanted to work hard by herself to earn it. She wasn’t accepting anything more than what she thought was fair.
In a world where he could easily get confused and loose sight of what really matters, she was keeping him grounded.
“Do you want to have dinner in your office?” Y/N asked Tommy as she found him in the hall.
After looking at his clock, he guarded it safely again in his pocket, trying to keep his nerves at bay, he had a secret meeting with Churchill in a desert road, he wanted to share some more instructions about the upcoming deal with the Russians and not having total control over when and how things would happen was driving Tommy mad. This was a very delicate matter and the slightest mistake could get them all murdered in a heartbeat.
“No, actually I’ve to go.”
Touching her arm and giving her a gentle squeeze, Tommy asked her to be safe before walking outside. His vehicle roared as he exited the property and Y/N found herself eating alone in the huge dining table.
For her own safety it was better if Y/N didn’t get involved in this. Russians simply didn’t care about anyone, they were fucking mad. He had been actually considering asking Y/N to go somewhere else safe, but knowing her the way he did, she’d take it badly, as if he was trying to get rid of her.
Y/N glanced at the window, it was dark. But she knew it wasn’t her place to ask anything else. Where could he go at this time of the night? With who?
As much as her bond was so close to Tommy, she needed to realize they weren’t stitched or glued to each other and Tommy generally was extremely reserved about his private affairs.
Being alone made Y/N feel miserable and sad, her whole days were filled with lots of people at the Shelby Company Ltd, or the tea time with her grandma at the Garrison or the moments she shared with Tommy once they arrived at Arrow House. So now being by herself it felt so different…so lonely.
“Mary could you please prepare a tea for me?” Y/N asked politely after finishing her dinner.
“I only serve Mr. Shelby ma’am.” The maid added before walking away.
In a few words, she made very clear that Y/N’s presence wasn’t as welcomed as she thought. And her loyalty was reserved for her master, not his unwelcome guest. So without another word, Y/N picked up her dirty dishes and brought it downstairs.
“Miss Y/LN what are you doing?” Asked one of the maids as the chef wiped his hands with his apron.
“I’m going to wash these.” Y/N stated firmly, voice close to break after the humiliating moment she went through with Mary.
If things were as they should be, Y/N would be working under Mary’s supervision.
“Absolutely not, let me handle this.” Gently, the maid retrieved the items and gave the pregnant woman a look. “Can I help you with anything else? Some desert?”
Y/N shook her head. “No, thanks. Where’s the kettle?” She asked instead. This place was huge and there was a walk-in pantry and everything was organized meticulously.
“This is because of Mary right?” Y/N fixed her eyes on the young girl. “What did she do?” But then she placed her hand on her lips, as if trying to say she messed up. “Apologies I shouldn’t have.”
“No, it’s fine… it’s not like I’m Mrs. Shelby.” She sighed and twisted nervously the bow at the front of her blouse. “She reminded me of my place in this house, that’s all.”
The young maid exploded. “She thinks she’s better than the rest of us, just because she’s in charge of everything.”
Y/N studied her features, noticing her reaction was genuine.
“She’s always criticizing the way I do my job, it’s never good enough. And Mr. Shelby doesn’t even care…”
“I know this isn’t my business.” The chef caught her attention. “But she had been complaining about you to every member of the staff, she doesn’t understands why she has to attend you and do things for you when you’re not married to Mr. Shelby.” Duncan explained as he cleaned the stove.
“Oh I’ve heard her plenty of times too, you should talk to Mr. Shelby.” The kind maid suggested.
But Y/N shook her head and thanked the woman for preparing a tea for her. “No, I’m not here to cause Tommy more trouble. And he needs Mary to take care of everything.”
All of this was because Mary had very inflexible thoughts about premarital sex, she was always murmuring “this offends the Lord… or Lord forgive them for that.” So with Y/N being pregnant and living with a man without being married, this was a sin. Y/N was a sinner and in her eyes, she didn’t deserve even a bloody cup of tea.
“Thanks for the tea and the company. I’m sure Tommy wouldn’t mind if you got to have some rest early, all the chores pending can be done in the morning.” Y/N gave them both a smile and rushed upstairs to her bedroom.
The place was huge and she made sure to lock her door, a constant fear of some intruder breaking into the mansion made her feel uneasy. Tommy had a bunch of enemies after all, they wouldn’t care about harming her or her baby just to get to Tommy.
It was too late now to regret anything, it wouldn’t change the course of things. But sitting on the ottoman by the window, she let her mind wander to think of her baby, to imagine if would it be a girl or a boy?
She wondered how would it feel the kicks and her baby would like to hear her singing a lullaby to sleep. Polly already warned her that she’d buy a stroller and a crib for when the baby is born and her grandmother was already knitting some shoes and a blanket. Esme promised to give her a box full of clothes of all sizes so she could choose what to keep, each gesture kept touching her heart, to realize how generous they all were to her, never making her feel bad or unwelcome. She would make sure to let her baby know of all the love that surrounded them even before the birth.
Y/N knew that sometimes blood means nothing sadly, but life always brings a good group of people to replace the others.
But thankfully her baby would’ve lots of arms to cuddle on and a loving chosen family to rely on.
Part 6
Master list
Thank you so much for reading ! ✨🥰 I hope you like this part, as usual, your words is what keeps this going xx
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog (can’t tag) @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactict3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74 @natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee @teawonderfultea-blog1
#that’s what Cill said#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x fem!reader#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby x imagine#tommy shelby fan fic#tommy shelby fanfic#thomas shelby x y/n#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fan fiction#cillian murphy characters
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