Jason agrees to go through the legal hassle of being declared alive again. Mostly so he can go to college like how he wanted.
He would have done it under a fake ID, but he kinda wanted the success of having a Masters in English attached to the name he grew up with.
It's going pretty great, actually! He's making friends, gets to punch random paparazzi's in the face, and learning has always been fun for him.
But one of his college friends, Danny Fenton, is...weirdly obsessed with Wayne Manor?
Jason gets it, he does, the Manor is huge and of course the guy would want to see it as often as he could.
Then he starts to realize that Danny is strangely attentive to Bruce.
Like, actually flirting with Bruce.
Oh no his college friend, who is his age, is flirting with Bruce so hard it's making Bruce blush.
OR; Danny thinks Bruce is hot, and that the outraged faces of the man's children as Danny flirts with him are hilarious. Also Jason started it by trying to flirt with Danny's mom when he met Danny.
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katsuki blames the alcohol for making him stupid.
really stupid.
not that he's had a lot, but his tolerance is low for a guy of his size, and he can feel the edges of his inhibitions dulling with every drink of whatever denki has shoved in his hand. it doesn't taste like absolute shit, which is rare enough to have him indulging, just a bit, for the agency halloween party.
another sip has his head feeling a little swimmy, and before he knows it, his eyes are trailing across the room until they find you. again.
whatever the hell you're supposed to be tonight—a witch, or something else in a pointy hat—is really fucking with him, and has since you walked in. the costume isn't revealing in a sense that it's inappropriate for a work event, but it's...hugging you in all the right places. in every single one of them.
without tights, it would be on the too-short side, but—and no, katsuki can't fucking explain this—something about them is making everything worse. and your calf-high boots ain't helping, either.
it's just—your fucking—hips.
katsuki couldn't tell you what song is playing, but you're swaying back and forth to the tune and one of his canines digs into the plastic of his cup, so deeply that it makes a terrible creaking sound and dents beneath the pressure—and that's when a sharp elbow is delivered to the center of his chest.
mina is at his side when he looks, and her wide, freaky eyes scan his face before narrowing in her little shit-eating way.
"you're a pig."
katsuki chokes, and the little freak takes that as an admission of some kind.
"oh my god," she gasps, mouth falling in all her disgust and awe. "you can't even deny it!" and then she laughs, high and chirpy, and there's no way you can't hear her. "oh, you're down bad."
"cram it," he snaps, sinking his scowl into his cup. "i dunno what the hell you're talkin' about."
"you know i really thought better of you," mina sniffs effectively, turning her face up and away. "not the type to be blantly checking out somebody's ass."
katsuki bristles, and his aggrivation growns until the plastic in his hands starts to melt. "i wasn't—"
"i'm kidding!" mina snorts before flicking him in the nose, narrowly dodging the hand he swipes out at her. "quit being a baby and go shoot your shot already."
"piss. off."
but the hero is unaffected by him, simply scrunching up her face in response before turning on her heel to disappear further into the party.
she's wrong, katsuki thinks, because he's not a pig like sero or fucking dunce face or even kirishima, from time to time, who gets red in the face over a low cut shirt and a pair of tits.
fucking ridiculous, katsuki thinks, because he's way better than that.
it's just—the alcohol. that's making his lids heavy and his thoughts dark and his face hot. has him peeking at you over the lip of his cup, has him picturing you in his head when he's forced to look away.
and, well, maybe, the short cut of your dress has a little something to do with it, too—but he's keeping that shit to himself.
taking it to the grave, even.
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Scamming the scammer
John Constantine was the biggest headache Danny had managed to get, ever. After becoming King he did not think that his first task would be to solve the man's soul problems.
And it seemed quite incredible to him that the hellbazer would consider selling his soul as if it were a used car that he wants to get rid of to buy a new one. He was aware that he needed a soul, wasn't he? That it was not possible to buy a new one? Because he didn't want to be the one to inform him if that was not the case.
To top it off, beings from different domains within his kingdom came explicitly to claim the British's soul, which didn't even make sense, there were thousands of souls! Why did everyone want the same one? And why did he have to be the one to take care of it?
Completely frustrated, he placed all the paperwork for John Constantine in an empty room and locked the door. He smiled as he came up with a plan to improve the situation, it might be worth it.
That's how a drunk John Constantine found himself signing a dubious contract in exchange for the power to turn any liquid into beer, he didn't bother to read the contract, most demons just wanted his soul and this guy looked so human, with a presence so light it must be a minor demon for sure.
This turned out to be a bad decision when the next morning he found himself trapped in a room full of documents, the door locked. Taped to the door was a green note that said "Enjoy doing your own paperwork sir, I hope you're pleased with yourself", and well, maybe he should have read that contract after all.
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💀Mac stealing candy while also traumatizing children and causing heart attacks for s**** and giggles, while over here Wukong is in the front of every door, pushing and shoving any kid in his way leaving a trail of crying screaming children while trying to charm the house owner to give him more than one king size candy bars from each and every house.👻🎃💕🍫
🍭They are both the worst trick or treaters out there an MK has to supervise them from now on😠
Also here's a good scenario I came up with all drawing them.
what if the whole gang goes out for Halloween shopping picking out costumes or material for their costumes and macaque pics of ghosts / zombie/ anything that reminds you of the Dead. Mac's costume upsets monkey King to the point he tries to ignore or tries to bully him into a better costume anything that doesn't remind him that he's actually half dead or maybe out of guilt / fear he just doesn't want to see him macaque in that horrific way again.
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