#first time poster long time stalker

[copperbadge]

Let's Talk About Missing Persons

So, I've seen this post circulating last week, and a few others like it in the past year. I think this probably needs to be discussed every few years, and it feels like time.

First, a few caveats: there are reports on the post that Abby has been located and is fine, so no need to reblog and also that's great news, I'm very happy she is safe. Second, I did not especially doubt the veracity of the post, so I'm not impugning the people who made and posted it, but I also declined to reblog it for reasons I'll get into. Third, I know that especially in marginalized communities it can be dangerous to involve the police, and that Missing White Woman Syndrome means it can be difficult to get media coverage. I understand why Abby's community may have chosen to search for her in the way they did.

However, for everyone's safety, I do not link any missing persons post that requires you to contact an individual to report the missing person's whereabouts. If the poster doesn't ask you to contact the police or a known missing persons organization, I won't do it.

This is for the safety of the missing person.

When you see a post with someone's photo, name, and last known whereabouts, and you are asked to contact an individual -- a family member, partner, friend, etc -- what you are being asked to do is report on the whereabouts of one person you don't know to another person you don't know. You don't know that the person you're talking to isn't an abusive partner or parent, a stalker, or a person who means them material harm. One of the Insta accounts in the missing image doesn't appear to exist, and another has no bio and very little captioning on their images. I couldn't verify that Abby even knew these people.

Again: when I looked at the image, it looked sincere to me. I didn't doubt those people were earnestly searching for a friend they were worried about. But also, an abuser doesn't look like an abuser until they do. So I don't make exceptions, because a missing person is missing but a victim outed to their abuser has strong odds of being murdered. The most dangerous time in the life of an abused person is when they are leaving their abuser. Even if a victim simply logs on to say "Hey, I'm fine, these people mean me harm" the abuser has now flushed them out of hiding, and manipulated them into making a public statement.

If you can't verify positively that the person searching does not mean the missing person harm, you should not be circulating a post, full stop. At the very least, if the community doesn't wish for the help of the police (understandable) or can't get the help of an organization or community (frequent), the missing persons poster should advise you to speak to the missing person, not the searcher, and notify them they're being sought, as long as it's safe for both you and them to do so.

This isn't intuitive. We want to help, and search posters like that tug on the heartstrings. We know that when the police get involved even in something this innocuous, it can be perilous for everyone. But in situations where someone is so vulnerable, we have to concern ourselves first with harm reduction, which in this case means not spreading someone's photo with a stranger's contact information on it.

I'm glad Abby was found and is fine and that her searchers were in earnest. But that will not always be the case, and it's important to remember that.

#missing persons #abuse #trauma #stalking

[astridthevalkyrie]

the floor between you and xavier is thin. you are beautiful. and xavier is tortured.

cw: afab reader, masturbation, nonconsensual auditory voyeurism 😭, xavier being a pervert

i have a midterm in two hours and i spent the last two hours writing all of this. dammit. inspired by this brilliant post (original poster is @skynapple) thank you for giving me permission to write this lolz

once a habit forms, it is incredibly difficult to break. he knows that. he has known that. xavier has had years and years and years to make habits and to subsequently break them.

those twenty-something years he was a nail biter. the tugging of his hair whenever he was tired for around thirty-two decades. six hundred years strong and he still can’t keep a straight face whenever he smells something his nose doesn’t agree with. 

some habits he’s fine with not breaking. 

but this one.

oh, he needs to break this one as soon as possible.

and yet, every friday evening he tells himself that this time will be the last time. when friday morning arrives, he wakes up refreshed and confident that it will not happen again. by the time the clock hits 3 pm, he can already feel his palms become clammy; if he was a cartoon he’d think an ironic bead of sweat would form on his temple. and by the time the sun is going down and the rain has soaked his hair completely, xavier is shoving his too practical key into the too practical lock of his apartment door, and the dread in his chest has already settled with the weight of what he knows he’s going to do.

he could leave. he could go.

he doesn’t.

xavier takes his time changing out of his uniform and showering. the water burns even when he sets it at a lower temperature. his entire space feels too hot. sweat is actually building on his forehead now. 

it’s been a long week, he thinks, as he rolls onto his bed, opting to wear nothing but boxers (and even that’s useless). he tries to remember all the missions he’s been on since monday, and more importantly all the missions you’ve been on. you’re a bit of a braggart, so he hears all about them, and he never minds, because he could listen to you brag about yourself for centuries on end and the whole time he’d only nod along and agree.

the more missions there’s been, though, the more exhausted you are at the end of the week. and the more exhausted you are, the more orgasms you try to pull from your fingers every friday night.

when tara’s over, your music is never loud. your laughs rarely carry over. and your volume has never been disruptive (not that he would consider hearing you to be disruptive at all). it’s as if you know that the walls are thin and you’re trying to be as polite as possible. 

then why is it that when you touch yourself, you’re so loud?

are you trying to make sure he can hear you?

or, and this is what already has him hardening at the thought, are you just so sensitive that you can’t help it?

your first whimper blesses his ears, and xavier shuts his eyes, lying flat with his head against his pillow. closing his eyes helps. it makes him feel less like a stalker who’s crossed through time and space for you, and more like he’s just someone you care for, because this way he can imagine you’re in front of him, on top of him, letting out those first few sweet sounds at his touch.

“mmh,” your voice carries over, and goosebumps litter his arms as he swallows, teasing the line of his boxers with the tips of his fingers. there isn’t a rush. usually, he has just enough restraint to make sure he comes with you.

the next thing he hears is a sharp gasp, and xavier groans lowly, trying to be quiet, or at least more quiet than you. already he’s building tonight’s fantasy up, spurred on by the sound of the rain beating against the window. the last time you and he had spent the night in the rain…

“just stay until tomorrow morning,” you’d urged him, lashes fluttering innocently, not knowing the key that he’d supposedly forgotten was heavy in his pocket. even though he was the one who’d lied, he’d still argued against it, because now that the invitation was out in the open you were too close for his rapidly beating heart, your eyes too inviting and your hands too soft.

xavier imagines he didn’t argue that night. he imagines he’d agreed instead, and had accepted the change of clothes from your closet. the acid in his chest that hisses knowing you even have another man’s clothes in your closet is quickly silenced when you don’t wait for him to leave the room, and instead lift your own shirt right above your head.

he’s never seen you like that. but his imagination is more than ready to supply him with what you’d look like, evidence gathered from how your uniform would cling to you while you fought, or even from how your robes would slip up a little when you were sparring him some hundred years ago—

his hand wraps around his cock without him even realizing it, and he lets out a small, choked moan.

your hands are softer than this. they’d feel better. in the corner of his mind he sees you, topless, pushing him back onto the bed and crawling above him, caressing his face with those soft hands before running them down his chest. your touch does so love to wander. and his body is yours to explore. he’s never belonged to someone else.

he whispers your name and almost as if in response, you let out a cute little squeal, and xavier curses under his breath as he pictures you making that sound while he fingers you. he’d start off with one, just because you seem sensitive. but then he’d add another. and another, and then he’d watch you ride them. 

slowly, he rubs his hand up and down his length, remembering the last time you’d held this hand to resonate with his evol. last week, for a particularly tough wanderer. your palm had been smooth against it, and now the next time you do it he’ll remember that he touched himself to the thought of you with that same hand.

“mmh, don’t tease me…”

oh, you’re speaking today. pleading with an invisible voice, or maybe you really do know that he’s just below you, hanging on to your every word. and he’s disinclined to acquiesce to your request—he’d do nothing but tease you. once he’d make you come once with his fingers, he’d toss your legs over his shoulders and drag his tongue along your folds, bring you to the brink before pulling away. he’d watch the way your lips pout and the way your eyes flare up whenever you’re emotional, and he wouldn’t give you time to complain before diving in again.

“sorry, sweetheart, you know i can’t help it.”

xavier’s eyes fly open with a gasp at the sudden other voice—there’s someone with you. there’s someone in your room, on your bed, with their hands on you. 

there’s a pause, and then he hears you again, letting out a small, “y-you’re so…haah, mean…”

one of his hands curl into the sheets below, clutching them so tightly in his fist that he wouldn’t be surprised if they came off.

someone is touching you. someone is making you—incredible, wonderful, beautiful you—whine like that, close enough to hear you, far closer than xavier has ever been.  

“i’m not mean,” the man who is invading your bedroom right now says, “you can’t look like that and expect me not to edge you. you’re the most beautiful when you’re begging, you know?”

“i could say the same about you,” is your not-so-hushed response, and during the next pause he can barely hear anything but he knows you must be kissing him. him, whoever he is. a date, your boyfriend, the devil—you’re kissing him, those soft, gorgeous lips of yours are against someone else’s when all xavier has done in his time with you is try to tear his eyes off those lips, wondering what they would like against him.

“c’mon,” your voice pleads again, “i need you. i’ve needed you all day.”

the man groans, and xavier hears the kiss this time, one fierce and stolen in the heat of the moment. 

“if you insist. you know i can’t resist you, sweetheart.”

there’s some shuffling and xavier thinks his heart is going to beat out of his chest. he feels…he feels everything, sick and jealous and almost angry, and he can feel himself trembling with every inch of him screaming to get up and confront whoever thinks they can touch your skin and draw those noises from your throat—

but when you let out a high-pitched, muffled cry, xavier’s hand goes back down, and he starts stroking himself with more urgency.

you’ve never been this loud before. and xavier used to enjoy that, thinking of it as a challenge, that if he ever got to have you, he’d make sure you were louder with him than you were with anyone else. he’s brought himself to orgasm at just the idea. but now it’s torture, hearing your voice go up several octaves for someone who isn’t him, for whoever’s hips are roughly colliding against your own, filling his ears with a muted plap, plap, plap…

“fu-u-ck, baby, how are you this tight?” the interloper groans, “gonna make me come, m’gonna come inside you…”

xavier’s skin crawls at the needy moan you let out in response.

the fantasy in his head is ruined. there is no more vision of a seductive version of you having your wicked way with him, but instead he is imagining exactly what is happening, a dirty picture of him in a corner watching someone else enjoy you to the fullest extent. wrecking your beautiful body the way you deserve.

your moans are building, higher and higher, and his back is arching off the bed as he fucks his fist, still trying to pretend like he’s yours and you’re his, that he’s the one burying himself inside your wet heat, that your nails are digging into his back, leaving lines on his skin, drawing blood if that’s what you wanted—

“raf!” you wail, and your voice breaks, and xavier’s eyes roll back, and he spills into his hand.

there’s still a ringing in his ears as he pants, breathing heavily while the sound of skin slapping becomes more desperate, as the intruder—raf— speeds up to try and reach his own end too.

his hand moves on its own. with barely an intention formed in his mind, he presses it to his heart, and he feels a surge of energy run through his chest, no time left to regret anything.

the sounds stop completely.

after a minute, his phone lights up with a notification.

starlight: hey did your lights go out too???

starlight: my room just blacked out

starlight: i had a friend over i’m so embarrassed lol

with his chest heaving as he lays back against the pillows, and his right hand sticky, xavier texts you back with his left, a soft, tired sigh escaping him.

xav: no mine’s still on

xav: i’ve got tea and takeout come over

xav: i’d love to meet your friend

#love and deepspace #l&ds #lads #l&ds smut #lads smut #love and deepspace smut #xavier fic #xavier x reader #xavier smut #lads x reader #lads xavier #l&ds x reader #xavier #l&ds fic #xavier x you #xavier x mc #xavier x y/n #love and deepspace xavier #valkyrie stories

[triple-7-heaven]

ONCE AGAIN

thank you for waiting for me, readers. i do hope you enjoy it ♡ my first aespa fic, awesome! i've been going through it, thus the lack of content, but things are looking up for me. take care of yourselves, until next time :-) pairing: male reader x winter; words: 6.5k ; categories: aespa, winter, reader insert, smut, slightly storyline heavy

Back in high school, there was a girl who shone above the rest, but wasn’t necessarily popular. A girl who was a member of the math club, the photography club, and the dance team, whose evenings were filled with activities, who made many friends, but wasn’t fawned over by the student body in the way the true popular kids were. 

One evening, you were at school pretty late, tutoring in the library. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice the time passing, until the janitor came in and told you he’d be needing to clean the library up, so you’d better scram. Backpack full of books, you rushed out of the library, and quickly made your way through the dark hallway. You turned the corner and nearly collided with a small girl, who grabbed onto your arm to steady herself. 

“I-I’m so sorry,” you said, and the girl looked up at you. Oh, perfect… “Minjeong, shit, I’m sorry…” 

“Hosang, what are you doing here so late?” Minjeong asked. 

“Uh, tutoring… You know my name?” you asked incredulously. She smoothed out your sleeve, folded the collar of your shirt down, and tucked her hair behind her ear. 

“You know mine, too,” she quipped and giggled before running to catch up with her dance team friends, leaving you without room to explain yourself. To explain that no, I promise it isn’t weird, everyone knows your name, Minjeong, I’m not a crazy stalker, and I’m not here to spy on you through the gym windows while you dance. But you never got to explain yourself. To be fair, you did admire her from a distance. In the halls, at lunch, you wouldn’t deny that you looked at her with heart-shaped eyes. As pretty as you thought she was, you didn’t ever talk to her, something you would eventually regret. 

Minjeong dropped out, and you didn’t run into her again. After graduation, you headed off to Seoul to learn how to fly, and soon, you realized someone else had come, too. Billboards, advertisements, you name it. For a solid month, wherever you looked, you saw her. 

The same Kim Minjeong who you nearly sacked in the hallway that night, who, instead of yelling or being upset, straightened your clothes and wished you a good night; who knew your name when you were nobody. She was Winter, now, styled with gorgeous long, blonde hair, imposed over ethereal backgrounds and colors. You had to give it to whatever company she was running with, they made that old crush of yours flare right back up again with the way they marketed that girl. Financially stable enough under an air charter company flying small private jets, you decided you’d buy a set of the group’s albums when they debuted. Sitting on the floor of your apartment, pulling the photocards and posters out of those albums, you felt the full force of the regret from your school days: if you’d only talked to her in high school, you could have her number in your phone right this minute… But you were resigned now to being a fan, and a strongly biased one. That’s all you could be. 

-

Charter piloting has benefits. Loads, surely. You’re essentially a glorified taxi driver, charging rich business people and celebrities $20k for a one hour flight from Incheon to Jeju. It’s morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money, right? As good as the pay, benefits, and overall experience are, the clientele… Well. Nothing you hate more than a stuck-up diva, and it’s even worse when you’re trapped in a flying metal tube with them. But you make do; the idol sightings you get on the job make all the asshole corporates worth it. From old school stars your parents might know, to drama actors and actresses, to the newest generation of idols, you welcomed a ton of each aboard, more than you could ever remember if you didn’t write it down. Unforgettable guests come along now and then; a trio of Twice members one weekend, some big-name producers behind insurmountably popular groups for a surfing trip, and the casts of award-winning shows on celebratory benders. Unforgettable loses its meaning when your secretary hands you today’s clipboard. 

“This is mine? Thought it was… Uh…” you trail off and your eyes widen. The secretary laughs behind the desk.

“I knew it! You’re her fan, right? You always talk about Aespa. And I know you have her photocard in your wallet,” she winks at you as your face fills with an embarrassingly deep blush. 

“It’s not just that, Jihye. I knew her in high school,” you say hesitantly. 

“Oh my God, it’s like a reunion!” the girl squeals. “Wait, were you cool in high school?” she laughs. 

“Uh… I don’t-” 

“Yup, I knew it,” she says matter-of-factly. “Let me guess, the lame, nerdy guy had a crush on the cool-chick future idol?”

“No! Well, I don’t know,” you say. Your mind is too busy racing to think properly. The young secretary giggles to herself as you walk to the hangar. Preflight routines are difficult to complete when your mind’s racing faster than a Blackbird. Would she recognize you? Should you say something? Nah… You’re kicking tires pretending to be busy and the door opens. The trail end of a conversation… 

“-ng is going to be your pilot. He’s a great aviator and an even better tour guide, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you around the island,” Jihye says. That damn secretary. 

“Hosang? I feel like I’ve known someone with- oh, hi,” Minjeong stops abruptly when Jihye walks her around the aircraft to meet you. Long, wavy, dark hair, with bangs curled and blown out to mathematical perfection. Fair, unlined skin of a small and cute face. A simple and comfortable black sweater, a modest manicure, and plain, natural eye makeup. You bow shyly and wave. 

“All good to go?” Jihye asks with the most annoying smile in the world. 

“Yep,” you answer. Jihye departs and you welcome Minjeong to get comfortable while you finish up. A strange look occupies those perfect features as you give her a quick safety brief, then turn to enter the cockpit. Before the door closes behind you, “if you need anything, let me know.” 

Why are you cold with her? Why are you nervous? You hardly smiled at her or asked what she was traveling for… Pure white clouds roll calmly underneath you. You resolve to be nice to her, even if she doesn’t recognize you, because let’s be real, it’s not her fault for not recognizing you. She meets tons of people. You’re just some not-cool kid from high school who had a crush on the cool-chick future idol. A pilot report over the radio snaps you out of it as you enter Jeju International’s airspace. Gusting winds and vertical movement, it’ll be a bumpy ride down. You reach for the intercom. 

“Hey Minjeong, forgive me if I startled you. Looking at some rough air on the way down, but we’re about 20 minutes out. I’d sit down and belt in if you aren’t already, okay? Call if there’s any issues, and think of what you’d like for dinner.” You toggle off the intercom and wonder where the hell that came from. What, Jihye said you’d be happy to show Minjeong around the island, right? So you’ll show her. Your inner autopilot (funny…) takes over and you idly nudge the yoke for your approach phases. Wheels on the ground, hangar door shut, you stand and exit the cockpit. Minjeong looks up at you sleepily, and you sit across from her on one of the bench-style seats. 

“So… dinner ideas?” you ask. Minjeong stands up and points at you groggily, shuffling towards you until her finger pokes the center of your chest. 

“You. You went to my school, didn’t you?” she says, tiredness dripping from her voice. You nod and meet her eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything?” 

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me…” you say softly, honestly. She moves her hand to your shoulder.

“Well you’re bigger, yeah, but… I recognize you. Bigger and taller. Same face,” she says. The smile can’t be kept off your face, unfortunately, and Minjeong smiles too. 

“You sound really tired. Let’s get going,” you say. After a quick post-flight and signing off with the hangar staff, you face her and say: “Gonna change really quick, then we’ll head to dinner.” You slip into the FBO restroom and drop your duffel, then slip out of your annoyingly stiff white uniform shirt. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, then pull on a plain black t-shirt before swapping your slacks for black jeans. One careful ruffle of the hair later, and you’re leaving the restroom to meet Minjeong in the hallway. 

“Alright, ready.” You carry Minjeong’s luggage and she trails behind you, much like a puppy, on the way to the parking lot. The modest rent car’s parked right where the staff told you, so you open the door for Minjeong and she shoots you a confused smirk. You smile back, and hop into the driver’s seat. 

“So what’s the occasion? Family in Jeju?” you ask. 

“Honestly, I… When I get time off, I run a secret travel blog… So I take vacations, and take pictures and stuff,” she says quietly. “I dunno, it’s kind of silly.” 

“How come it’s silly? Sounds fun to me. We’ll have to go to some really cool places so you can write a good post, huh?” you reply. “Now, dinner?” 

“Mm. I’m too tired to think,” she mumbles. Great, now the pressure’s on you to pick something perfect… 

“How about Black Pork Street? Could make for some good photos, and it’s really as good as people say it is,” you say and put the car in gear. 

“Sounds good…” she trails off. Really, really sleepy. But she makes an effort to talk to you. She makes an effort to keep the focus off of herself, and more on you; she asks you how graduation was, since she didn’t go, and you really had to reach deep into your memory for that one. She asks you about flying, about why you chose it, about your life in Seoul, and about how you never ran into each other in the city. You hold yourself back from saying ‘well no, Minjeong, we haven’t run into each other in a city of 10 million people, with about 9,999,999 of those people being more interesting than me.’ When you arrive, Minjeong is lively and excited, telling you about her camera and asking what’s next after dinner. You kick yourself when you start wishing for a specific sort of dessert. Quit being dirty-minded, idiot… 

“Let’s go! I’m hungry,” Minjeong says, dragging you out of your thoughts. She looks perfect taking photos on the street, pointing her camera at the sky, at signs, storefronts, plants, street cats. The way her eyes light up when she takes a good photo, runs over to show you, insists that you take a few of her; she’s not much different than she was back then, huh? A person with a good heart. A person whose heart you’d like to learn. 

“Is it our honeymoon? First date? Must be a first date, you look nervous,” the dorky waiter says, nodding to you. Minjeong laughs, and you blush; the difference between you. 

“Uh… J-just high school friends,” you manage to say. Minjeong jots notes and snaps photos throughout the meal, and as you’re serving up some pork belly for her, she takes a few photos.

“C’mon, make it look nice,” she whines. 

“You’re serious about this, huh?” you laugh. 

“It’s… It’s my baby. My project. My travel blog is like… I dunno, it’s a way for me to be creative, but not be Winter. It’s a way to just be Minjeong,” she slowly explains. “To have a space that’s all my own. Where I can talk about stuff I like, and not worry about press, or netizens, or fans, or anti-fans.”

“I get it. A space of your own. I should call you Minjeong then, right?” you say, nodding your head a bit too fast and a bit too much. She smiles and nods. But she nods like a regular person, not like you. 

Dinner passes without incident. If we can ignore the waiter thing. Do you look like a couple or something? Maybe you do compliment each other. Maybe you seem like high school sweethearts. Maybe you could be. 

“Hosang?” she says as she leans forward. “You in there? Let’s go to the hotel!” You snap out of it for the second time and hop up to lead the way to the rent car. The paperwork Jihye gave you had most of the information listed for Minjeong’s trip, and the hotel she’d be staying in was, of course, the Lotte City Hotel. No less grandeur for the princess. The GPS gets you there quickly, and you pull up to the front doors, leaving the car on as you grab Minjeong’s suitcase. Just as you’re rounding the front of the car and waving goodnight, she makes a confused face.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” she whines. Minjeong the kid… 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I was gonna head to the motel near the airport, that’s where my room is. Did you need something else?” you say. 

God, why do I sound like a customer service bot? ‘Did you need something else?’ Seriously? 

“I… I dunno, I guess I just wanted someone to hang out with,” she replies.

Oh. To hang out? 

“Oh, of course, Minjeong. Let me park, I’ll meet you,” you say. And she’s waiting for you in the same spot once you return to the front door; she didn’t even go inside. Her long, dark hair’s ruffled by the wind. Cute. 

NO. Not cute. Not cute or pretty or hot. She’s my client, my customer, my responsibility; not my crush, my girlfriend, or my next body. Look at the ground or something, for the love of God, Hosang. 

But looking at the ground can’t keep her legs from your peripheral view. She walks through the sliding doors and you follow behind with her suitcase in your hand, and your duffel on your shoulder. Long, slender, perfect legs, and you’re looking right at them. You snap your gaze to the windows and pretend to be looking at the skyline through the windows while Minjeong checks in. After a moment, she turns to you and smiles. 

“Do you have a swimsuit?” she asks. You shake your head. “There’s shops on the bottom floors, go and find one, okay? Meet me on the sixth floor. There’s a pool! The pictures are gonna be perfect!” 

She shoves a room key into your hand and takes the bags from you. You’re left in the lobby, dumbfounded, wondering how you should navigate this. A bellhop whistles at you.

“First night with her? Sheesh,” the young man says. “Score!”

“Weird situation, man. Weird as hell,” you trail off as you walk away, still shaking your head, more so to yourself now. Okay, shops. Swimsuit. You begin to feel insecurity nagging at you. You’re lean, sure, but not perfect. Not as perfect as… Well, nevermind. Quickly, you make your way through the shops, and find a pair of rather plain, mid-length black trunks at a duty free shop, changing into them in the restroom and leaving your shirt on. The elevator ride lasts forever. And ever. And ever. Until the robotic voice announces,

Sixth floor. 

The doors open and you walk quietly out to the open area of the pool. You see one figure in the water already. She’s facing the city, hugging the edge of the pool and gazing at the skyline. The water laps at her back, just below her shoulder blades, and the silky smooth skin of her back is laid out for you, with only thin bikini straps to cover it. Her arms and shoulders are small, toned, but soft. Fancams and jacket shoots could never do justice to the sculpted angel right in front of your face. 

“How’s the temperature?” you say. She turns around. Her top is composed of white strings and back fabric; conservative, but form-fitting to her chest, that Goldilocks chest, the perfect balance of size and shape. Her collarbones are distinct, curved, beautiful. Hell, every curve you can see is perfect, from the angle of her jaw to the base of her neck to the gentle taper of her arms. 

“It’s heated,” she giggles. “Come on!” Insecurity. Nagging. Loudly. 

“Are you sure? I can just hang out and take pictures for you up here, it’s not-”

“Come onnn,” she pleads. You turn away from her and slowly drag your shirt off, then kick your shoes and socks off near where Minjeong left hers. The water is slightly warmer than room temperature, and a welcome change from the chilly air. You sit yourself down on a ledge in the pool, and Minjeong swims to your side, sitting right next to you. Not close enough to touch. 

“See? Isn’t it nice up here?” she says.

“It is. Ever been to Jeju before?” you ask.

“Nope. I think it’s even nicer with a good tour guide.” 

“Ah, come on. I’m not all that.” 

“You’re…” she trails off and sighs. Her hair tickles your shoulder when she leans into you. “I wish I’d talked to you more back then.”

“Hmm? Don’t worry about it, that’s way past us,” you mumble.

“So… If I said I wanted to make up for lost time… What would you say?” she says and you feel her fingertips smoothly run over your leg under the water. 

“I think I’d ask where that idea came from,” you say breathlessly. She moves her hand to your waist, arm around your front. 

“I always liked you. I just didn’t think you liked me, you were always so quiet,” she says. Your hand, now, meets her waist, and your eyes meet hers. 

“Is this okay? I mean… Can you do stuff like this? Now that you’re all famous and everything,” you say, struggling to form any words at all, overwhelmed by the electric sensations of skin on skin underwater. She cups your cheek with a wet hand and nods to the camera bag. 

“Can I get some pictures for the blog? Before… Before I forget,” she finishes cautiously.

Before you forget, huh… Gonna make me take an impromptu bikini shoot of one of the most beautiful women ever. No big deal. 

Minjeong disentangles from you; she tosses you a towel and you dry your hands, then power on the camera. Eyes fixed on the camera’s display screen, you start shooting. She moves through pose after pose, and you can feel yourself hardening. How could you not? A perfect, slim, pale Minjeong, body covered with water droplets, her skin shining in the flash of the camera. 

“Would you check and see if those ones are any good?” she calls to you. You begin scrolling through the photos, and sure, they’re great. It would be hard to take a bad photo of her. 

“Yeah, these are good,” you say. 

“Let’s take a few more, then we can relax a bit,” she says. The camera display switches back to photo mode, and you look through; this time, your heart stops. The screen shows you that Minjeong has shed her top, and now, the camera focuses on her bare breasts, nipples erect in the cold air, water streaming down her chest. Her hourglass shape is all the more prominent now, and you wonder how it would feel to run your hands all over her wet body. You begin to lower the camera, but she shakes her head. “These are just for me. Please?” 

“J-just for you?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. Her poses grow more erotic. She squeezes her breasts together with her arms, grabs them with her hands, and leans over for you to capture a shot of her from the side with her back arched. Now you’re definitely hard, no question about it, but at least now there’s no way she could be mad at you for it. It’s her fault. She moves towards you, and you set the camera on the ground next to the pool. 

“How’d they turn out?” she asks. Her arms reach around the back of your neck, and yours wrap around her waist. 

“You’re evil,” you say into her neck before planting a few kisses there. 

“Oh, how could you say that? It seems like you had a good time,” she says. Her hips grind forward against your cock; she wants you to know that she knows how hard she’s gotten you. “You know, to be really honest, Hosang, you’re the first guy I ever thought about while touching myself.” 

Really? 

“Why?” 

“You’re an idiot- Oh, God,” she’s interrupted by moans as you kiss further down her neck. “I just like you, okay? 

“Well I just like you, too. Always did,” you say. 

“I hope so. Otherwise this could be kind of awkward,” she giggles. You withdraw from her neck to place a kiss on her temple, and finally, on her lips. She tastes so sweet, lips so soft, tongue so aggressive. Her hand grabs onto your hair and she forces your head to turn so she can deepen the kiss. Minjeong seems hungry, desperate. You sit back on the ledge with your high school crush in your lap, her legs around your waist. She’s got both hands on your face, and she observes you like some sort of specimen. 

“What’s, uh, what’s up?” you say, eyebrows raised.

“Your face… As different as it is, it almost looks exactly the same as the face I fell for back then. And I think I’m falling for it again,” she says. You begin to speak, but she places a finger over your lips. “I know what you’re gonna say. Just don’t think about it right now. Don’t. Think. About anything.”

Between her words, she’s taking your hands in hers, and moving them to her bare chest. You swallow. Hard. She’s right. If only for tonight, for this weekend, for a week, you have to just let it go. Her breasts are soft, and she whimpers when you squeeze them. She giggles and moans through a toothy smile when you roll her nipples between your fingers. Minjeong is clay in your hands, melting under every single touch, and it’s your job to make this trip unforgettable for her, to mold her into shapes of pleasure she’s never felt before. 

“You know there’s a sauna,” she whispers through gasps.

“Good idea,” you reply. Water falls from both of your bodies when you stand up with her still wrapped around you, clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree. A quick jog from the pool to the sauna, but the wind still manages to chill you both to the bone. The sauna, though, is comfortably warm. Minjeong in your lap again, you sit on the wooden bench and she devours your neck. Her tongue and breath are hot against your skin and the steam begins to make you sweat already. She stands and takes hold of your hand, beckoning you to follow suit; you stand close to her and she looks up to meet your eyes. Small hands make their way to your waistband. 

“Can I?” she asks softly. You help her slide the trunks down your legs, and your cock springs out, painfully hard, smacking your stomach. Her hand wraps around it immediately, and she moves in to kiss you again. She moves her tongue slowly against yours and her hand works your length all the while; her delicate fingers find the precum dripping from your tip and spread it generously. Delicately, she kneels; cautiously, she licks your cock from the base to the tip before latching onto the head and giving gentle suction. She looks up at you with her deep brown eyes and you place your hands on her head. You’re gentle with her. Your fingers make their way through her hair, and you keep your hips as still as you can, so as not to overwhelm her. You feel the back of her throat suddenly, and a moan escapes your mouth briefly, before you slap your hand over it. Minjeong backs off and strokes you with her hand.

“Don’t… I want to hear you,” she says. You feel your cock twitch, and you let out a sigh. A soft moan when her strokes speed up. “Good…” 

“What if someone-”

“If someone hears? They’ll leave. Don’t worry,” she says. She gives you a few more seconds of suction, tongue massaging your head, then stands back up. You switch places with her, only now, she casually strips her bottoms off and sits on the wooden bench. Her toned thighs spread apart slowly while you stand back to take her all in. 

After all these years, there she is; imagine telling high school Hosang what’s happening right now. Forget moaning her name while I jerk off… She’s right there. 

Beads of sweat roll down your face and body. Minjeong, too; she’s covered in dewdrops of her own. Somehow you think they must look better on her than they do on you. A deep breath, and you step towards her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly under your hands when you give her pert breasts some more attention. You’re on your knees, now, watching her face contort and listening to her voice catch in her throat. If she never wore a bra again, you’d surely be happy. Kisses planted down her body, from her sternum down her stomach, halting at her hipline. You take a moment to stroke her thighs softly with your fingertips, and they shudder. More kisses for her legs, from her ankles up her calves to her inner thighs. Her sweat is salty and sweet. How will the rest of her taste? You look at her again.

"What do you like?" you ask. 

"I… I don't know."

"When you touch yourself, how do you do it?"

"That's embarrassing…"

"When you're using your hands, imagining they're mine, what do you do?"

"..." 

"Show me, so I can do it for you." Minjeong’s eyes are half-lidded, lust-laden. When you look down at her perfect, trimmed pussy, it’s dripping; your words got to her. She takes hold of your right wrist and places your hand on her stomach, thumb on her clit. 

“Slowly,” she whispers. You oblige, and slowly make circles on her clit, spreading her wetness over the sensitive nub. Her next move brings your left hand to her mouth. She sucks on your two middle fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. Wet enough now, she moves your hand, palm up, near her pussy, and nods. “Inside.” The walls of her pussy are so hot, so scorching hot, inch after inch engulfing your fingers. One curl of your fingers and she’s cursing, moaning, bucking her hips. Poor girl must be starving. 

“Is that good for you, Minjeong?” you say. Your voice seems like it’s dropped an octave and slowed down about half a measure. It doesn’t matter; she can’t answer you, anyway. She’s busy stuttering out your name. Temptation gets the best of you and you move your thumb away. Minjeong whines, but it’s soon replaced by a near scream when your thumb is replaced by your tongue. As expected, she tastes incredible, some remnants of salt water from the pool, but overwhelmingly sweet underneath. She clenches around your fingers a bit.

“F- Oh my fucking-” Minjeong stutters. Her eyes roll back in her head. Her delicate fingers grip your hair, not so delicately. Rapid, shuddering breaths cause her toned stomach to rise and fall quickly, her arms and legs jerk, and the salty and sweet flavor floods your tongue. Unlatched from your hair, Minjeong’s hands grab your face and yank you up towards her face; as you stand, the tip of your cock grazes over her clit. 

“Whoops,” she whispers. Her lips are warm and smooth when they lock onto yours. And you feel her hand creep down your abdomen. Your attempt to break the kiss is foiled with Minjeong’s arm around the back of your head, and her other hand moves up and down your shaft. She’s devious, smiling into the kiss as you fill her mouth with moans, tightly gripping your cock and twisting her hand with her up and down motions. 

Kim Minjeong from high school is jerking me off. Kim Winter from Aespa is jerking me off. 

It’s a mindfuck. She kneads the back of your neck and sucks on your tongue. You can’t fuck her in a public sauna… Can you? 

“Minjeong…” you whisper against her cheek. She looks at you innocently. Like someone who isn’t driving you crazy. 

“What?” she giggles. 

“How about we go to your room? Could be bad if, you know, someone sees us,” you mumble. 

“How about once here, and a few more times there?” she says with a wink. “It’s late, baby… No one will come up.” 

‘Baby.’ 

Minjeong guides you towards her pussy with the hand that had never left your cock. Her legs rest on your shoulders, and you grip her pillowy soft thighs to brace yourself for impact, for entry. Her heat begins to swallow your length, quite easily due to how wet and aroused she is, and she makes the hottest noise she’s made the whole night. And now you’re hilted in Kim Minjeong in a hotel sauna with an unlocked door. Her nails scratch at your chest and shoulders frantically. 

“God, so full…” she moans. 

“You want me to fuck you now?” you put the sultry voice back on. She nods. “When you’re using your toys, imagining they’re me…” 

“Please, Hosang, just fuck me,” she pleads. “However you want. However you need.” It’s all you need to hear, certainly. You pull out nearly all the way, and watch your cock disappear inside of her with a grunt. Your thumbs nearly touch as you wrap your hands around her small waist to pull her down around your shaft with every thrust. All inhibitions are gone, any restraints have been lifted; you’re slamming into her hard, and the both of you moan loudly enough for the reception desk to hear. Minjeong’s tight abs contract and relax under your hands, you look at her face to see her drooling with her eyes rolled back. Like, actually, really drooling. 

“Fuck, babe… You’re really enjoying this, huh?” you say gruffly. You swipe your thumb over her chin and she leans down to suck on it instead. Lustful eyes meet your gaze and your thumb pops out of her lips. 

“I’ve been waiting so long,” she says. A quick sigh to punctuate her sentence. “So many years…” 

“Well-” you try to speak, but she clenches herself around you. “Fuck. I don’t think I can wait any longer than I already have-”

“Pull out baby,” she sighs. “I want to swallow you.” 

Regretfully, you withdraw from Minjeong’s tight hole, but the steam keeps your cock rather warm while she kneels down. After a lick from the base to the tip, she takes you all the way into her throat. She takes your hands and places them on her head, looking up at you sinfully. With fistfuls of her dark hair, you pull back, and thrust in again. She gags and coughs, but she never gives up, and soon, you’re shooting rope after rope, nearly convulsing in pleasure. She strokes you into her open mouth, wringing every drop out of your spent cock. When she’s satisfied, she swallows and stands up to kiss your neck and chest. 

“How about… How about we go to the room?” she says. 

“You want me to stay with you tonight?” you ask. She laughs a bit. Her laugh is fluttering and adorable, a sharp contrast with the noises she was making moments earlier.

“Of course.” 

-

After getting dressed and gathering Minjeong’s things, you head upstairs. In the elevator, you stand behind her; she grinds back onto your groin and brings your hands to her chest. Floors fly by and the number on the small screen goes up as you massage her chest and her delicate moans get you painfully hard once again. She rushes in front of you to the room, giving you another view of those creamy, toned legs, and you do your best to catch up. Once inside, she sits on the bed in front of you and waits. Her hands travel slowly from her hips to her knees, and even slower she parts them with her hands to reveal the glistening skin peeking out from her bikini. Her breath hitches when you step forward and gaze down at her. 

“I showed you what to do last time,” Minjeong whispers. “I want to see what you’ll do on your own.” 

“No pressure, right?” you joke, and she smiles. Her thighs are soft and malleable in your hands, and her neck softer under your lips. You untie the bikini top and cast it to the side, then kiss further and further down her neck. Kisses travel down her neck, over her collarbones, down to her sternum. There’s still salt from the pool on her skin, and you lick towards her nipple before giving it a bite. Minjeong jumps slightly and closes her fists in your hair. Your mouth works on one nipple and your hand kneads the other breast, perfectly sized for your hand. After switching sides once or twice, you kiss her stomach. Her hands move to your shoulders as you kneel on the floor in front of her.

Minjeong’s legs are wide open. You slide your fingers into the waistband of the swimsuit and slowly drag the bottoms down. More kisses travel from her knees across her inner thighs and up to her hip bones. She’s still dripping for you and you drag your tongue upwards over her pussy slowly to savor her. You spit on your fingers and slip them inside of her easily. 

“Ohhh my God-” she whispers and bucks her hips. “Go faster…” 

“Mm, so impatient, Minjeong,” you reply. Your tongue returns to her clit and makes smooth circles. She tenses around your fingers when you curl them back towards you, her moans growing louder, grip on your hair growing stronger. Taking her by surprise, you withdraw your fingers and stand up. While her hands work automatically on pulling your swim trunks down, you take a moment to just gaze at her. Her ruffled, semi-wet hair, strands sticking to her forehead and swaying wildly as she kisses up your thighs. Her flushed, glistening skin, cheeks inflating and deflating with the waves of pleasure coursing up your torso as your length disappears into her mouth again. Her pretty shoulders and arms. Her nose buried in your stomach.

Fuck. 

“You’re really good at that,” you moan. With a yelp Minjeong is scooped up into your arms and tossed, more or less, onto the pristine hotel bed. She pats the bed beside her, and you get the message. You lie back and let her mount you. She guides your tip to her entrance, and once in line, she slams her hips down aggressively. You’re content to let her ride. Her body moves in mesmerizing ways as she grinds on you, seeking the best angle for your cock to rub against all the right places. Just as soon as you begin thrusting into her, your phone starts ringing. 

“Dammit, sorry, Minjeong,” you curse and remove the girl from your lap. Fucking spam call? Really? With the phone silenced, you turn around to see her lying back on the pillows. 

Like an animal, you crawl towards her; you feel like one at least, with the way your cock is throbbing. She pulls her legs up for you, and you guide your tip towards her dripping center. The warm feeling envelops you again and you sigh, eyes closed. Your hands find her waist and keep her torso still while you begin to drive into her. You almost can’t even hear her whines anymore, her voice punctuated by each thrust, curses and iterations of your name following every other sound.

“-nside me,” Minjeong’s voice fades in as your stupor breaks a bit. You lean forward and make a confused expression. “Cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me…” 

And something about the way she says it just obliterates any second thoughts you may or may not have had. Her high, airy voice, begging for such an impure action, intensifies the warm, wet pleasure surrounding your cock. It only gets warmer and wetter as your cum dumps into Minjeong, deeper and deeper inside of her, coating your shaft, dribbling out onto the sheets. Your thrusts slow down, but your dick stays inside; you’re tired. You wrap your arms around her waist, and lie down gently on top of her with your face in her neck. She administers gentle scratches to your scalp. 

“You came so much, Hosang,” she whispers. Her legs settle around your back. 

“Drained all my energy,” you laugh weakly. 

“You’re heavy. Can we switch?” she says. So you do; you roll onto your back. Your cock slips out in the meantime, and you both laugh about it. She fits in your arms like she was made for them.

For a long while you lie there. The cold air condition and the crisp sheets are a welcome contrast to your steaming hot skin and the panting, sweating furnace lying on top of you. Minjeong painstakingly brings her hand to your cheek and kisses the other with soft lips. A slow blink. A thought in your mind. 

Is this what it feels like?

“What are you thinking about?” she asks. She knows. 

“How do you feel about me?” you reply. Her expression is mixed.

“How do I feel… I feel like there’s a reason we ended up on this trip together,” she answers. Her body rises as you take a deep breath. “I mean I feel like something brought us together.” 

“What do you want to do about it?” you ask. 

“I want to find out why. There must be a reason this happened, you know?” she says. A small yawn. “Like… There must be something waiting at the end of a journey we can take together to find out. Or something.” 

Together? A journey? 

“Think it might be time for you to go to sleep,” you whisper. Her baby hairs stick to your face when you kiss her temple. The sheets are smooth and cool when you pull them up over Minjeong’s body and yours. She falls asleep quickly. You don’t. You’re thinking about IFR plans and what to say to her in the morning. Your fingers trace along the smooth skin of her hips and lower back for a while. The softness is comforting. And you fall asleep. 

Is this part gonna go in the blog post? 

#aespa fanfic #winter x male reader #aespa x reader #aespa x male reader #aespa smut #winter smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

[thefiery-phoenix]

how about yandere boyfriend h/c for Gun Park 🫶🏻

Sure

YANDERE PARK JONGGUN HEADCANONS

If you have this psychotic fighting obsessed lunatic after you as a yandere or as a significant other, I seriously pray for you and your mental health. He's the cause of people's trauma and gave at least half the lookism characters their own sob backstories. You'd meet him in middle school. He's the heir of the famous Japanese Yakuza organization of the Yamazaki clan. You didn't want anything to do with him at first. He was the poster boy for being a troublemaker and kept beating people up left and right. You hated his cruelty towards the other students and wanted to stay the heck away from him. One day however you accidentally bumped into him and you spilled some water over his shirt. His bodyguards simply glared at you menacingly as Gun stared at you with a cold stoic look on his face. However when you apologized profusely with a flustered embarrassed expression on his face, a small smirk formed on his lips as he watched you with an amused expression, trying to wipe his shirt with that cute little handkerchief of yours

You've managed to intrigue him now, congratulations because you have a stalker on your trail. He quietly observes you in the classes, how you're always quick to answer the questions asked by the teacher, how you're so eager to finish doing your homework...you were such a goody two shoes, the typical girl next door and he found your personality rather amusing. He felt like a predator watching his pretty little prey and he felt a surge of power rush through him. He found out everything about you within 10 minutes and during the lunch period he quietly left a bottle of your favorite drink and left

He promised himself he'd never have time for silly frivolous distractions like love and that nonsense. He was supposed to destroy everyone in his path to attain his great title of becoming the king of the second generation, so why couldn't he fight you when he was about to hit some random moron because they'd dared to challenge him. "Leave. This doesn't concern you" he said with his usual cold look on his face as a slight flash of irritation flashed in his eyes. Why on earth would you defend someone so weak and insignificant when you're supposed to be by his side? Do you not know you belong to him now? However when he sees you extending your arms out and looking at him with a slight angry determined pout and asking him to leave the student alone, for the first time, he actually listened to someone and it was you. An amused smirk formed on his face. "Aww...how cute, a little princess is trying to be a hero...just know things won't always work out your way and you'll need someone like me in the end to protect you...I'll wait for that day to come" said Gun with a slight hint of malice dancing manically in his eyes as he left

A few years later you've heard of his fearful and dangerous reputation around South Korea of how he's busy terrorizing the other gangs with another blonde pest named Goo. However you had no intention of getting involved in things like gang wars and such, your only objective was to just survive high school and get a decent job and make a life of your own. If you thought for a moment he's stopped watching you, you're absolutely wrong. He's always on the lookout for you and is always keeping an eye on you. The other day some random guy started hitting on you despite your repeated attempts of refusing him

"She said no you lousy insect..get lost before I murder you" said a familiar cold voice as he came out of the shadows in his long black suit and black glasses as he smoked a cigarette and glared at the man. "Who the hell are you to tell me what to-" said the man but couldn't finish his sentence as Gun ended up grabbing him by his neck with his hand and flung him to the nearby. He then put out his cigarette on top of the man's unconscious head as he smirked at you. "Well princess...it's been a while since we've met" he said as he strode closer to you. He surveyed your features, you didn't change since the last time he saw you. However what drew him towards you was your childlike naivety and innocence. Something he wanted for himself

"I'll be upfront with you...I don't play games. Go out with me. And don't you dare refuse, you know you don't have that option" he said as he leaned closer to you just to make you feel more flustered which he was getting a kick out of. You sighed and agreed to go out with him as he smiled evilly at you. But deep down, he could feel his heart melt slightly at your acceptance. What a good little doll you were, doing whatever he asked from you

As a yandere, he would be possessive, obsessive and manipulative as well. He's not above to using other people as mere chess pieces just to get whatever he wants from you. But the bright side is, he doesn't hurt you, physically or emotionally. Despite him not being too fond of the idea of romance, he has a pretty good idea of what to do with a partner. He likes taking you out to nice fancy restaurants where there's a private booth so you won't be able to squeal for help. This sadistic MF here loves and lives to see you squirm and get flustered. Don't get too surprised when this jerk here keeps running his hands down your thigh with a smirk on his face

He ALWAYS knows your location, despite you not even telling him. A certain purple haired brat keeps him informed as insufferable as he might be. If you've guessed it was Kouji then good job, you win a cookie. Another blonde psychopath who goes by the name Goo keeps him informed as well. You're not supposed to go anywhere without telling your man where you're going. He'll always be stalking you from the shadows, you're never really alone. He doesn't want you getting involved in gang fights and crew messes and stuff. When you asked him to fight you, he simply cracked a sadistic amused grin. A few seconds later you found yourself on the ground as he pet your head and chuckled softly. "Naive little princesses like you aren't supposed to be in gang fights..." he said as he softly caressed your cheek

He'd rather take this to the grave than admit this out loud but he loves it when you rake your fingers through his hair. He feels like all the walls in his heart are breaking down and he lets out a soft contended hum of approval. Had it been Goo doing that, his fingers would have been bent at an unnatural angle and would have to deal with his incessant whining. He also likes to hold you and have you on his lap. He likes the physical intimacy. Plus the view is great too, there's a reason he wears glasses you know...this shameless perv 💀

Don't underestimate his power. The second you try to leave him or get away from him, he'll end up kidnapping you. He has his own reasons, selfish reasons to be precise. Scream, cry and throw as many number of tantrums as you want, you won't be leaving him anytime soon. There's no way you'll be able to even fight him so the sooner you get that silly little thought from your pretty little head, the better it would be for everyone involved. He'll just think you might need some time to adjust and he'll give you your space. However when you try kicking and punching him, he'll just take them with an amused smirk on his face and coo at you describing your hits compared to that of a bratty little child trying to hit someone

He'd spoil the hell out of you though, whatever your little heart desires it's yours. Just say the word. He also likes it when he comes back from a fight and you patch him up and he can't help but lean in slightly into your touch as he looks at you with a soft affectionate look, reserved only for you, the special one in his heart. Of course, he might be a cocky little jerk to get deliberately injured in fights at times just to feel your touch and to see how adorable you look when you're all concerned and fussing over him. Goo will eventually call him out on his BS only for Gun to whack him across the head with a slight smirk but he wouldn't deny it

Now, as for the people who dare to steal you away from him or try to take you away from him...not even the gods would be able to save them. He will have no mercy when it comes to such people. Perhaps if he's feeling a tad bit merciful and he wants to get home to you quickly, he'll just beat them up till they're literally hospitalized for a month. Or else it's straight up death in the most gruesome and horrendous manner possible. He does not hold back and will go even feral than usual. Some lousy moron tried to take pictures of you while you were unaware of it a few days ago. Gun didn't even bother to hesitate to break the punk's hand and crush it in one go, silently vowing to murder the little pest later on in the night

Don't even bother trying to escape from him, you'll just be making him laugh at this point. He doesn't even need any help tracking you down, like I said before, he'll always know where you are. He can read you like an open book and knows what your thoughts are. He might be cold and aloof at times but he does like cuddling with you and petting your head affectionately. As much as you nag him to quit smoking, that's something he wouldn't give up on. But he finds it amusing and endearing how fussy you get about it and will pull you onto his lap and quickly capture your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss

Ultimately at the end of the day, no matter how ruthless he is he just wants to come back to you and have you in his arms, right where you belong...

#yandere lookism #yandere lookism characters #yandere lookism characters x reader #yandere gun x reader #yandere gun park headcanons #yandere gun park scenarios #yandere gun park oneshots #yandere gun park imagines #yandere park jonggun headcanons #yandere park jonggun #yandere park jonggun x reader #dark lookism #dark lookism x reader #dark lookism characters #dark lookism characters x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons

[greycaelum]

Hey, how do you think younger/teen gojo would react to meeting his future family? Like, would he be over the moon, or like "what, i get married? Gross." If you think this idea could be fun to write, please do. I really love how you write and would really like to read this scenario if you were to write it.

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Transcend }

—Gojo Satoru X Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

Thinking about it now. Since he's in the future, maybe he should see what happened to you too. It's not like he's a stalker. It's more like a friend watching over a friend. That's right, that's it. Fuck who is he joking with? Are you married? Did you stop working for the jujutsu college? D-Did he get to tell you you're his crush?

𑁍 Genre: fluff, time-leap, mystery if you squint

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.6k)—/teen Satoru, mom reader, Saika roasts her dad—/

𑁍 A/N: This is the second shot for this time-travel trope, I hope you like it~

It's not beyond the knowledge of anyone close to him to know he's got a long-running crush on the beautiful girl working as a window for the college. That every mission he's secretly hoping she's the one putting down the curtain so he could at least see a glimpse of her.

So it's not a surprise if he dives head straight to save her after hearing she fell into an unknown domain that distorts space and time.

The blinding sun seared through Satoru's vision. The noisy street followed by the crowd overwhelmed his hazy senses.

"What..?" Tall buildings he's never seen, and billboards he's never stated at bombarded him. But it was the very same Shinjuku he has known. What's with the 3d billboard with a huge cat in it? He doesn't remember that when he passed here yesterday.

The huge billboards. Changes in the scenery. And the shop he used to visit doesn't look the same.

It didn't take him much to understand what happened.

"Future huh? This is crazy." Rubbing the back of his head, Satoru sighed and started looking around. 

That curse must still be too young. The problem now is, how to get out of this time bubble. From the posters he passed on the establishments all of them have one in common, it's the year 2020.

Moreover, than that, he needs to find you first. Your curse energy is nowhere to be found.

"This is gonna be a one-long wild goose chase." He scratch the back of his head and lined up his choices on how to do this mission of finding you.

Thinking rationally he should go back to Jujutsu Tech and find Principal Yaga. Maybe the old man knows something about your location. So he walked and walked and walked. As much as he wants to take a train he cannot, he forgot his wallet in the car. Too distraught after hearing you were in danger.

Thinking about it now. Since he's in the future, maybe he should see what happened to you too.

It's not like he's a stalker. It's more like a friend watching over a friend. That's right, that's it. Fuck who is he joking with? Are you married? Did you stop working for the jujutsu college?

D-Did he get to tell you you're his crush?

"You look so tired."

A young girl with curly hair wearing a white shirt and brown apron pats Satoru's shoulders. She's holding a pot of flowers while looking at him curiously. 

"I have water and snacks inside, come in, you look like a guy who walked from Shinjuku to Tokyo."

Well, he is that man. We're talking about, walking that more or less 7-kilometer distance between Shinjuku to Tokyo. Surely he could've rode the subway but it's different to see how different 2020 Tokyo is.

Satoru's eyes landed on the plaque of the shop and the beautiful varieties of flowers displayed inside the place were seen through the clear window.

Fluer-de-Lis Bouquets

Satoru turn around, and the young lady only smiled. Go... A voice inside his mind whispered as he stare at the name of the shop. He finds himself entering the cozy establishment. Inside, the sunrays reflected in the window seem to glow and the place seems surreal and mystifying. Small butterflies hover over the flowers, the plants are alive... With vibrant petals and beautiful leaves that seem to greet you with their pleasant colors.

"You have beautiful eyes..." The young lady murmured as she set down a plate of souffle pancakes topped with whipped cream and milk tea. Satoru didn't waste time digging in. He is tired and starving after all.

"You haven't seen my eyes yet," Satoru replied touching the sunglasses hiding his eyes. A defensive stance over taking his curiosity. The lady smiled, shaking her head, sitting in front of Satoru to drink her chamomile tea.

"It's rare to see a soul like yours, you see. You don't even belong at this time. I can't help but speak my mind freely." She chuckles and puts a red rose on the table. "Being honest with her and yourself will prove more fruitful than sneaking behind her back. Youth really is rose-colored even for a boy like you, huh?" The woman chuckled. Her brown eyes seems to hold nothing and everything beyond.

Satoru frowned. He's met his fair share of eccentric people. But this one is different.

"What else do you know?"

The woman merely smiled and put a finger over her lips.

"She may or may not end up with you here. You may observe but never intervene for you do not belong here in this timeline. When the time is up, go back to where you came from, from then on the choice is yours."

The next thing he realizes is he's standing at a crossroads. The shop and the woman were nowhere in his sight. The rose in his hand is the only memento that it wasn't a dream.

"Excuse me!!!" A woman came passing through, bumping against his shoulder almost making Satoru stumble forward. "Sorry!!!"

Her faint cherry blossom scent quickly registered Satoru's senses. Did he cancel his Infinity? He doesn't remember...

A bright sparkle hit his eyes, and he could never be mistaken for the swirling cursed energy on the gem around the woman's finger. He could be blind but still recognize it. From the tips of her hair, her scent to the thin but impenetrable film of cursed energy encasing her body is no doubt brimming with his cursed energy. Even with no second glance, anyone who knows him would easily recognize her as his. 

"You!" Satoru called at the running girl but the crowd is too busy for him to get past through. "Hey! Wait!" Satoru squeezed through but to no avail, as he lost sight of her.

Fuck who was that? His head turned to all sides to see even a trace of her but it was gone. Not even a residual of the curse energy. Who was she to have that so much essence of his?

Could it be...?

HE GOT A SISTER?!

Did his parents get him a sibling or what?

... Satoru scratched his undercut. A fleeting thought passed through his mind.

A rose-colored scene, a woman in a white dress and a ring on his hand... Her sweet smile and his pounding heart.

"Nahh, that's not possible." He chuckled to himself. Getting married, huh? Fat chance. Is there any woman who can tolerate him? He doesn't have time for that.

...

But you have time for that. Who did you marry? Is your husband treating you well? You must look gorgeous when you matured more.

Perhaps you grew your hair longer. Or maybe your lips smile wider now making the tiny crinkle of your eyes. You would definitely look so breathtaking. After all these years was he able to finally tell you his little crush?

Did you turn him down? You look like the type that will turn him down and start avoiding him when he confesses.

So many questions are running into his mind until he ended up in some alley and the loud laughter of kids were loud.

He looks up to see a big house covered with tall trees by the fence. It's not possible to see the people outside but he can hear the kids laughing. Perhaps running around the frontyard.

"Ahhh! You kicked it too far!"

A soccer ball flew out the fence and hit Satoru's head.

An irk mark formed on his forehead. Kids! He probably lost his ability to cast Infinity because two Six Eyes users are not allowed to exist in the same time.

The sound of the gate and hurried footsteps came forward.

"I'm sorry for that Onii-san, can we have our ball back?"

Satoru turned around, ready to give the kids an earful. 

"HUH—!"

But the words got stuck in his throat the two fluff of white hair and one with blue eyes looking up to him. 

"Ah!" The title girl was about to say something but the older boy put a hand over her mouth.

"Can we have our ball back Onii-san?"

There are many kids out there with white hair and blue eyes, right? Although unusual it's not impossible to meet kids that look like him when he was also just a kid.

"Hey, who's your dad?"

The curiosity flew out of his mouth before he could suppress it.

"It's Papa!" The little girl who has the same hair and eyes as him chimed up but hid behind her brother's back, just peeking a little at Satoru.

"Kou? Sai? What's taking you so long?"

No one would understand how his throat constricted at the sound of that voice, or how his heart clenched so hard he could barely breathe when the kids ran toward the woman and hugged her hips. Or how disbelief, fear, and relief filled him at the same time when the eyes that met his were yours.

And there was that scent of his cursed energy clinging unto you like a second skin. You were that woman earlier. Is this what he thinks it is?

You look just as stunned as him.

His eyes landed on the kids who looked at him curiously.

"Mama, why does Papa look like a stick?" The little girl poked you and pointed at him.

You were still tongue-tied as you stare at him for a long time.

"W-Would you like some tea inside?" You stammered a bit and pointed to the big house. "I'm sure you would like some zunda cream kikufuku, no?"

"Yeah...?" Satoru was dying inside to ask you so many things. "But, hey..." Satoru summons all courage he has to ask you.

"Did I make you happy enough?"

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

#kaleidoscope series #c&mchapters #gojo satoru x reader #gojo married fluff #teen gojo #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo kouki #gojo saika #gojo satoru x wife #jjk gojo married fluff #jjk gojo fluff

[dairy-farmer]

Is me~ back to haunt you Ask Box o/ because I just had A Thought(tm)

What if~? The OPPOSITE of my Magic Sex Toy idea? Uno Reverse?

But how would that even work? You say. Tim would very obviously notice!

Oh ho ho~ ye of little Faith! *slaps my "join the Church of Civilian Tim" poster I obviously made myself* CONSIDER! Not a cape! Semi-stable schedules!

We open our scene with stalking. As ya do. Tim would prefer you call it "bird watching" or "observing the night life" but... let's be real here. Stalking. He's getting them NICE Premium Pics for his Definitely-Not-A-Stalker-Shrine. There's a newbie on the scene. A gaudy robe wearing mofo.

3 guess what HIS shtick is. First two don't count.

But! Thing is? Tim is no long a wee baby faced pre-teen. He is a Man(tm). Legally, twice over. And well... you find a LOT if Neat Late Night Shops running after the bats. He may have been persuaded by CERTAIN libidos that maybe he should check them out. Who can say? You can't prove ANYTHING. These bags are groceries and no you can't check..

Where was he? Ah, right, Pics of the Nightwing booty. *click*

Tim forgets Rule Number 1.5: ALWAYS keep an eye on what the villian is doing.

By the way... what that bright light? Oh, just a SPELL BOLT. Fuckin DODGE, MAN!

He fails to dodge.

🥺 H-His camera... Night-booty... Also why does he feel? Tingly? He doesn't stick around to figure it out. Grabs his TRAGICLY dead camera and bolts. Not getting caught at the scene of the stalking TODAY, no sir! Batmans definitely gonna check the area and he SHANT be there! Early night it is!

He gets back to his apartment. Still feels tingly... but less? Maybe those charms he looked up how to make protected him after all. Still, shouldn't push his luck, you know? He settles in for the night. Gets a warm shower.

Comes out and eyes the bags he dropped by the bed... and... well...

He DID wrap up early~ Maybe treat for Timmy time. He digs them out.

Weird.

They? We're already pretty life like (it's why he bought them) but... when he TOUCHES one? He swears it gets MORE life like? He really should look this up or something... suspect toys in Gotham and all... but on the other hand? Horny. And the boxes WERE closed. It's fiiiiine.

But which one? It's kinda been a while. And he doesn't want to be sore tomorrow. This one!

So Tim lays back. Let's himself enjoy working himself open. Then works the fake(?) Cock inside himself. And oh~ it's WARM. Twitchs. He let's himself enjoy a slow, lazy session. Get really sloppy and relaxed before finally finding juuust the right angle aaaand~

Across the city, the current Robin, Damian Wayne, is shaking APPART on a roof top. Sweat pouring down his temple, thighs trembling as he tries ro stop himself from rutting up into empty air. It won't help. Won't make the damnable TEASING go any faster. Wet and tight and PERFECT around him.

Came out of NOWHERE. One second he was patrolling, the next barely catching himself from falling. Stumbling into an alchove on some god forsaken roof. Hands fumbling to turn off his comms. Absolutely not. They could NOT hear him like this.

Panting into hands pressed tight over his own mouth to stiffle the sound he wants to make. Beg and demand that magnificent heat go FASTER. Plunge him DEEPER. But he CANT. Because there's no one there. Just him and the slowly increasing pressure in his balls, begging for relief.

Then, like prayers answered, it DOES. He could WEEP. Can't stop the aborted jerks of his hips as he chases his relief. Soon is trembling like the virgin he ISNT anymore as he spills into... into SOMEONE.

They take it so well. So perfectly.

He's RUINED. His hand will never be enough after this. And Tim has no idea.

Sure, he's not stupid. He didn't buy toys the fake cum. (So to be safe plan B it is) But? In the cold like of day? Prooooobably magic sex toys. Eh. It's Gotham. Not the weirdest thing to happen. Tim's keeping them.

And using them.

Thus begins the "phantom lover" incident, as Bruce will insist on calling it. Because "we were haunted by random fuckings" sounds... unprofessional. And he's a Dramatic Bitch at heart.

Damian, obviously, told NO ONE. Patrol? Utterly normal. Mind you business. But Bruce? Uncomfortable conversations for EVERYBODY~☆

See, Tim has a long day. His new camera isn't gonna be in for a WEEK. There is no point in going out. So his evening stretchs long and empty before him. Which... SPEAKING of things both long and things empty... >.>

He remembers. There was an absolute UNIT that he bought. It also has that base... which mean he could put it on the sex pillow. Try riding it... oh he's GOTTA, now.

Lucky for Bruce, he's not even in the cave when it hits. Unluckily, it is a cock teasing hell. Nothing to hold. No body to press close. No skin to run his hands across or ears to whisper filthy praise. So TIGHT. Fluttering and fighting to take him. Sinking little by little. Can't even HEAR him praising them. He can't even distract them, rub their clit and sooth them as muscles relax.

Can't hold them by the hips and work them up and down. They way he knows will work best. At angles that will make them SOB. Just nothing, nothing, nothing. Trembling and eager around him but so SLOW. Pausing again and again to adjust. Can't thrust in, can't pull out, only TAKE it. Let himself be teased.

But OH. When they finally, FINALLY get a rythme? He knows they can hear a word he says. Not yet. But the FILTH he growls. The audacity of what they're doing. He's GOING to find them. Going to pin them done and-

Tim spend the next day sore, but happy. Definitely not an "every day" sort of toy, but holy shit the orgasm. He hasn't slept this well in a WHILE. Though... when he wakes up? The Bats are acting weird. Violent, hyper-focused, seemly shaking down leads with a single minded enthusiasm. Weird.

Speaking OFF. Now he's wondering... does the possibly fake cum... TASTE like real cum?

One way to find out.

And... look. Dick may have been warned, but it's one thing to hypothetically get your bits milked dry and another to be doubled over seeing the face of god. He would gladly kill a man for the ability to grab hold of whoever is doing this and ram home. The mouth on him is a thing of wonder and it keeps TEASING the tip. They keep running soft, pampered, little hands up and down his length. God he wants them to feel him in their GUT. Fuck their face and their ass and any OTHER holes they have til everything is sloppy and wet and-

Yep! From the tast flooding Tim's mouth, that's real cum. Good his he got his shot. But it begs the question... whoms't exactly is he fucking? Tim's not sure he's comfortable with random hook ups. What if, Gods forbid, it linked him to the JOKER or something!? He'd have to blow up the city and everyone in it.

He considers this as he resumes his sta- he means, BIRD watching. Newly be-camera-d. Weirdly enough, now Nightwing is acting off too. What is going ON? Also... he could of SWORN he saw the Red Hood a second ago. Did he leave? Aaw D:>

.....what's that sound?

*boss music starts playing* That would be the Red Hood. Owner of the mythical Common Sense gene. HE immediately phoned a friend! And by THAT we mean he beamed up to The Watchtower to get poked at by magic users until he had a scanner.

Beep beep, mother fucker. You have explaining to do.

OR, counter argument.... Tim makes a run for it. Doesn't GET far. But he Sure Did Try! Jason is unamused. Consent is sexy, kids. And he has the gun to explain that. But! TIM has the panic babbling to explain his horny stupidity and innocence.

Fair enough. He's confiscating them though. If you get horny, just fucking ask.

Wait.... really? Does Jason really mean that?

And... two things. Cute Horny Idiot knows his identity. And.... he never said HE wasn't also apparently a horny idiot. Sure, why the fuck not.

He confiscate the magic contraband... then bends that twink in HALF. Comms off, back into it. Tim can barely breathe, pressed down so tightly to the bed as his guts get re-arranged, callused hands holding his legs spread, his childhood hero rumbling FILTH into his ear as hips snap against his, again and again and AGAIN. The world is hot and fuzzy around the edges and... AND-!

Jason's pretty damn smug that HES not only the one who found mystery twink, but them fucked him incoherent. He seriously considers just... not saying anything. Whoops! Nothing to find here folks. To bad the Watchtower is a fuckin snitch.

So obviously Bruce finds out. And wants to "talk to him". Which inevitably ends with Tim, pressed close to his front, held still as he "fucks him properly". Which as far a Tim is concerned is a god damned excuse to EMPALE him on his monster of a cock. Work it deeper and deeper, all while holding him like a lover, as he absolutely DESTROYS Tim's poor puss. Makes him lose count of how many times he's gotten off. Until everything is too bright and hyper sensitive. Til it's nearly hurting but not quite there and all Tim can think about, as he whimpers and drools, is SLEEP.

Oh... and THEN he wants to talk about how Tim knows their secret identies. Ask him in the morning or Tim WILL cry at you.

He wakes up in Wayne Manor. He did not go to sleep in Wayne Manor. He can't move his lower body with out pain. Bruce is clearly pretending he planned that. Liar.

Then? Karma. His horny chickens come home to roost. Has Bruce introduced you to his sons? This is Dick and Damian. They remember you. And would like a "word".

(The word is sex and they would like it as soon as possible)

👀👀👀!!!!!!!!!!!! a reverse magic sex toy!!!!!!!!!!!!! where tim tortures the other bats by fucking his little pussy with their cocks while they're forced to just suffer and endure it until he's finished. more than once they almost scream from frustration because tim finishes before they do and he pulls them out of his warm, slick little hole. 👀👀👀👀

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #brutim #dicktim #damitim #jaytim

[britcision]

AND HERE WE ARE! Totally getting this out in February well done team! And this is gonna be our last chapter before a wee teeny tiny time skip and Jason’s finished core! What a beautiful day 🥰

We’re getting another two-parter too, because Danny and Jason refused to let me get to the end of this lil introductory arc without at least one more pile of abject fluff! But finally, we’re ready to begin the plot!

Once again, the link to the AO3 version is in the first chapter and the 15th chapter; you can see it in the text for the link if you wanna subscribe to be told when it updates 😁

First Chapter:

Previous Chapter:

——————

So That Just Happened part 1

Back in her own room on the other side of the country from Gotham, Sam Manson reclined back into giant, coffin shaped body pillow her beloved girlfriend had given her when they moved and contemplated her phone.

The brand new Wayne-chat was blowing up satisfactorily, although apparently Tim was a massive stalker too. That was probably a good thing; it meant she hadn’t actually nuked Tuck’s chances with his nerd-crush. Now they could bond over their mutual stalker tendencies.

But, did that make her revenge less effective?

It wasn’t like she was actually out to ruin his life, but she’d kinda like to leave a mark. Something that would make him think twice about letting her think he and Danny had fucking died in Gotham in her absence.

Or. Well. Gone radio silent in Gotham, which was probably actually worse because if they were dead she’d know exactly where they were.

The Wayne chat were all pretty sure Tim and Tucker were together too, and Sam’s new best friend Babs had even pulled up the feed from their living room tv somehow. Sam wasn’t exactly the tech wizard Tucker was, but… after seeing that, she disconnected her and Val’s TV from the wifi.

And settled in to remote watch Tuck get his ass kicked at Spiderheck, apparently. At least for a little while; until something else on her phone caught her attention.

It was… almost funny. While she knew she was a whole three timezones away, she’d never really felt left out before. Like maybe she should have stayed on the east coast…

Not that she regretted it, of course. She had a good job, a good school, a wonderful girlfriend who’d been so excited to get into a good school and really go to town on the business department.

(Apparently there were posters of Val’s face in the ethics classrooms. Sam refused to ask if they were golden example or dire warning.)

She was just… a long way away. Even a long portal away, and… being back with the guys, even in Gotham, made the quiet of their comfy little apartment seem lonely.

Huffing, she turned and traced her fingers through the leaves of her mimosa plant on the windowsill beside the bed. They curled gently shut at her touch, and made her smile. Just like always.

She was happy to be home. She wasn’t technically liminal enough yet that it was her haunt, but… well, for all the jokes Val made, Sam had to admit she’d put down roots. She loved her job at the greenhouses, and her internship at the botanical gardens.

She loved scaring the hell out of the dudebros in Val’s business classes who thought ethics were a waste of time. She loved sharing messages with Jazz about the boys, laughing that even three hours ahead, Tuck and Danny still couldn’t get up before them.

She was kinda considering texting Harley about Timblr too. Not like, for any particular reason; if Tim’s family weren’t gonna embarrass Tucker enough, Harley probably wouldn’t either. She’d probably think it was adorable.

Or, y’know, worrying evidence of obsession. Psych types worried about stuff like that, usually.

Sam was kinda also considering sending Harley Jazz’s number. Jazz might still be skating just on the neurosurgery side of the line, but she’d always been big into psychology. Big enough to try and triple major, and only drop to major-major-minor after the third pre-exam meltdown.

And she could use having someone else do the shrink bit on her a little more often. Although really, for that Sam should make her a professional appointment; friends didn’t ask friends to psychoanalyze their overprotective pseudo-sisters. And Jazz could use more friends.

Jazz could use a transfer to a specialty that would let her sleep once in a while, a more stable supply of fresh ecto, and about six weeks in a meditation retreat to get the accidental telepathy under control, but more friends would be good too. And less stubborn insistence on her second try for double majors.

Maybe the switch to psychiatry full time would be good for her? Or psychology. Sam was a little fuzzy on the difference, which one Jazz was currently still minoring in, and which one Harley did.

(Jazz’s current second major was neurosurgery, which Jazz insisted was totally less taxing alongside a neurology major because it was the same body part. She was the only person in her class attempting the double major though, so.)

Humming tunelessly to herself, Sam flicked back into the group chat. Babs was still sharing the feed… brows drawing in, Sam frowned at the little spider figures still fighting to the death. Now, she wasn’t as big of a gamer as she used to be, but she was pretty sure Spiderheck didn’t actually offer red berets.

Snorting a laugh, she flicked back out of the chat and opened a new one, adding both Jazz and Harley. All it needed was the perfect name… something that would grab both of their attention.

Obvious. Child’s play.

Snuggling back into her coffin pillow, Sam grinned down at her phone screen.

Danny Has A Boyfriend chat was live.

**

Having eight legs wasn’t exactly the same as suddenly having four new ones, or two new legs and two new arms. While the first two were definitely functioning as “hands”, being the ones to pick up and use all of the weapons, Tim had quickly learned that he could grip with any of the eight “feet” that were available.

Yeah, spinning a laser staff all the way down one side of his body and up the other was fucking cool.

He’d adjusted pretty quickly during their “practice” round, while they all got used to the web slinging and worked out how to open the boxes and use the weapons.

(Tucker had swung himself into the lava by accident, so they’d started a second round.)

Tim felt pretty much ready to go, although if he was honest with himself… his only actual complaint was that he didn’t have a camera.

Conner had asked Tuck at the start of their second round if his powers had been nerfed to make it “fair”. Tucker, sweet innocent Tucker, had managed to convey a sidelong look even looking at even without a face on their little blob bodies and said he didn’t think Conner needed a nerf.

He just needed to understand how the powers worked, and they could be incorporated into the system. Which, well, was like catnip for Conner.

At least Tucker seemed a lot less flustered about talking to him while they were both spiders, because Conner had started talking his ear off about TTK and hadn’t stopped since.

Tim was kinda considering swinging over and taking them both out, just to get the game moving. But Conner was cute when he got really into something, and being a headless little spider body did not seem to have changed that.

He spent the time practicing with the webs instead, spinning and tossing himself around the map. It was pretty similar to using a grapple, although he wasn’t exactly sure whether or not the web was coming from his own body.

If it was, it was coming from inside a foot, which wasn’t how actual spiders worked… but Tim was pretty sure that was on Spiderheck, not Tucker.

Being able to run around upside down was the biggest change for him, and pretty cool. Tim scuttled around under a couple of the higher platforms for a while, planning his strategy.

Honestly, he was pretty sure TTK was going to wind up fucking Conner over rather than making anything easier for him. You’d think that flying would be an advantage in Spiderheck, at least as far as avoiding lava or an out of bounds, but Tim knew pretty explicitly how far it took Conner to stop.

It wasn’t exactly on a dime, and in this game? The pace didn’t exactly allow for imprecision.

And they were wasting time talking about it rather than getting used to having an extra six hand-feet.

Still upside down, Tim twisted until he could see the other two spiders. Which was when he learned that… they did kinda have their faces on them. Just, instead of being in a face position, on the front of his body that he was seeing out of, it was just sorta… plastered across the body.

Like a photo skin mapped onto a flat blob.

He considered letting the other two know; if anyone walked into the room, they’d probably be able to see their little faces on the screen. If they were just standing around talking.

Also, the pictures’ mouths weren’t moving, which hadn’t been weird when Tim was listening to them talk and didn’t think they had mouths. Kinda was to look down on Conner’s smiling face and hear his voice at a mile a minute.

Tucker probably already knew, and might have done the faces on purpose? And if he hadn’t, it was gonna be pretty funny to see what happened when he noticed.

He’d gotten progressively better at actually talking to Conner the longer he wasn’t actually looking at him, and the focus being on the game had helped too. Face in the game? Probably gonna throw him again.

And it was probably time to get things actually moving, so he could enjoy that.

Humming softly to himself, Tim scuttled across to the loot crates, found himself a double ended lightsabre, and dropped down on Tucker and Conner’s heads.

**

“Sooooooo…” Danny clapped his hands, doing his best to make his broad grin at least look a little innocent as he floated sideways into Jason’s field of view, “not that that wasn’t adorable and dramatic and everything, super touching, buuuut…?”

He almost laughed as Jason jumped, having apparently forgotten Danny was there for a hot second, then pulled his hand back from Lady Gotham’s to glare at him. The Lady herself didn’t bother hiding her chuckle, settling back to recline once more on a cloud of smog.

“Was there something you needed, Phantom?” She asked with a dry amusement.

Danny shrugged innocently, sticking his hands in his spectral pockets. Much more dangerous than regular pockets, but he’d not been doing more than blob wrangling lately.

“Not so much what I need, just, y’know, trying to keep things on track. I dunno if you’ve got other plans for the night Jay, but we were with Frostbite for a while and if you did…” he trailed off, and Jason grimaced.

“Not what you’d call set plans, but…” Jason trailed off as well, and Danny could feel the guilt even before it tried creeping in.

Nope, not having that. He’d almost talked himself into that bullshit already tonight, none for Jason. He nodded airily, floating up to drape an arm over the larger man’s shoulder.

“All I’ve gotta do is get to bed before midnight, so I’m not rushing now that Tucker’s found himself a new ride.” Waggled eyebrows punctuated that comment with enough emphasis that Jason snickered, darker feelings pushed aside without finding purchase.

“What, you don’t wanna go watch that train wreck in person?” Jason teased with a lopsided half smile.

Danny pulled a face, both at the thought of Tucker’s goddamn disastrous attempts at flirting and… well, the possibility of running into Bruce again. Maybe Constantine.

Danny was maaaaaybe kinda avoiding the wizard since he’d started collecting the other contracts on his soul; it wasn’t like he wanted them for nefarious purposes, it was just fucking weird. He didn’t like owning people. Not even overgrown Sour Patch Kids in trench coats.

(At least Constantine was still alive though. Those unlucky souls who died still bound to Pariah damn near went through a full reboot. No memories, no personality, none of what Danny would have thought of as like, the core components of a soul.

So far nothing anyone had done had been able to help them, and Danny had a nasty feeling the final answer would be Ending them. The Observants didn’t want to, they were perfectly happy with a thrall army so long as they controlled it, but Danny was firm.

No slaves, no thralls. If the only way he could free them was through a final and permanent death… he would.

But Clockwork was still looking, and so long as the ancient of time thought there might be a way… Danny held out hope too.)

For now, he shook his head quickly, holding up both hands.

“No way man. Bruce already hates my guts, I’m gonna keep a healthy distance.”

For both their sakes, really. Jason’s mood every time Bruce had spoken to him today kinda proved he hadn’t listened to Danny’s advice and stepped up. Not that Danny had exactly expected him to; again, hated his guts.

Jason pulled a face but didn’t bother to argue; he’d probably rather not actually deal with the old man for a third time either. Instead he just shrugged, turning his attention back to Lady Gotham.

“Do you know what time it is in Gotham now, my lady?” He asked, and the really weird thing was that it didn’t actually sound weird.

Danny always felt awkward and formal whenever he tried to address a ghost by their title, and Lady Gotham was the very worst because she never bothered to hide when she was laughing at him. Which was, y’know, every time he said it.

(He wasn’t gonna just call her “Gotham” though. That would be worse, so he just sucked it up.)

On Jason’s lips, words like “my lady” just sounded right. Danny flashed back for a moment to snow in a graveyard, and Jason knelt before him quoting Shakespeare. There was something in Jason that was just made for flowery language and dramatic proclamations.

Lady Gotham clearly agreed, bestowing a fond smile upon Jason before inclining her head back for a moment, those red on black eyes glowing suddenly brighter. Looking into the living world, or right up Clockwork’s ass?

“It’s coming to ten o’clock,” she said softly, something almost like regret in her tone. The smile that she turned back to them was softer, sadder.

Danny’d feel bad about being the one to point it out, except, yeah. He’d had to. Ghosts in general didn’t exactly think about time. It was a problem for the living, so - him. And Jason.

Who didn’t seem nearly so sorry with the answer. He nodded, fingers beginning to drum against his thigh.

“Time for a few more questions, then.” That wasn’t a question, and if Danny was completely insensate or possibly locked in a sensory deprivation tank he might have warned Jason about talking to a powerful spirit like that.

It’d need to be a damn good tank for him to miss all the signs though; Jason was so in the good books. Lady Gotham just smiled and nodded, gesturing once more with her traffic cone.

“Of course. And, of course, we will have plenty of other opportunities to speak. I may spend much of my time here, but now that we have been introduced… I can also speak to you there, if you would like?”

It was a delicate question, and Danny hesitated, suddenly wondering if he should… well, elaborate again.

“Uh… yeah, sure? I’d like that?” Jason asked, clearly confused by the reticence, and that made up Danny’s mind.

“She’s not going to sound the same,” he explained quickly, giving Lady Gotham a quick smile. She smiled back, gesturing for him to continue, because none of the damn older ghosts explained shit for themselves.

Danny totally didn’t roll his eyes.

“Like, the way we talk to her in the Infinite Realms is kinda the abstract? She looks kinda human,” he added, gesturing vaguely at the Lady.

Jason’s brows furrowed for a moment, but he felt more curious than concerned.

“So… she’s an anthropomorphic personification, but not in the living world?” He asked, and Danny’s eyes nearly crossed.

He turned to Lady Gotham, hoping that this might be some weird city slang, and she laughed at him. Again.

“Yes,” she agreed with Jason instead, which absolutely did not help. “It’s easier for me to speak with you here, using eyes and ears like your own. But building and maintaining this shape in the living world is… complicated.”

“Because her real body there is the city,” Danny added, privately resolving to ask Sam what the fuck Jason was talking about later.

Honestly, Jason would probably get along real good with Mr Lancer. They both liked weird words.

At least he actually looked a little confused too now; Danny had freaked the first time Lady Gotham talked to him out in the city itself. He gave Jason a consoling pat on the shoulder.

“You’ve gotta see it to believe it, man. Just… it’s gonna be weird.” Not the most helpful, sure, but Danny was doing his best!

Jason nodded slowly, willing to table it for now, and refocused on Lady Gotham, something darker now welling in the purpose building inside him.

“So you said the Joker wasn’t from the Curse,” he said bluntly. Danny flinched, more from the lack of any aura inflection than the remnants he could feel.

Yeah, a lotta Gothamites hated the Joker specifically, but if Danny had even the faintest doubt of who’d killed Jason… the black, leaden lump of Death in Jason’s aura wiped it out.

Lady Gotham stilled too, her own smile fading as she regarded Jason. Those red and black eyes were suddenly so much older, so much sadder.

“Yes,” she agreed softly, lowering her traffic cone to rest at her hip. “Are you sure?”

‘Are you sure you want to know?’

Or ‘Are you sure you want to know now?’

Danny wouldn’t put money on which she’d intended, but it didn’t take a genius to know the answer to both. Stubborn, emotionally repressed, and self destructive as hell, bat-training only left one answer.

Jason nodded firmly now, his jaw clenching.

“Yes.”

Lady Gotham studied him for a moment longer but didn’t argue, inclining her head gently.

“Then I will be brief. While the Curse has always been part of the city, feeding on fear and despair, in recent years we have both felt… something else. I told you of the malevolence on the land?” She asked, and Jason made a soft, impatient noise.

“And that it’s where the Curse comes from, yeah. And that the Joker is different,” he prodded.

Danny made a face. He was usually very much on the side of blunt answers, and knew full well that the Lady wouldn’t actually like, break Jason for being mouthy. He was very, very used to seeing favouritism from the outside, and Jason was clearly a firm favourite.

Maybe because he was currently Gotham’s only actual part ghost child? (To be fair, Danny didn’t think that’d change much in the fullness of time; Jason was his favourite of all the bats alive or dead.)

Whatever it was, his interruption only brought a flicker of a smile to the Lady’s lips, which vanished just as quickly.

“Yes. The Curse is indeed the original manifestation of that malevolence, given form and now, purpose. But even that malevolence came from somewhere; Gotham lies on a crack between worlds, older than time. Every world in the multiverse exist along certain markers; certain weak spots. Gotham is one of them.”

“Of course it is,” Jason grumbled beside him and Danny shifted closer, brushing their shoulders together.

Personally, he figured that if Gotham was a weak point in the universe and all the bad shit just leaked through, they were probably doing pretty well for themselves. Then, he’d seen the depths of the Ghost Zone; he knew what else could be trying to leak through.

Which, obviously, meant the good luck had to end.

“When the Joker died,” Lady Gotham continued, only to be cut off by a startled “What?!” from Jason and a totally-super-dignified squawk from Danny.

“You are not gonna tell me that asshole’s a ghost!” Danny moaned, dragging his hands down his face. Honestly, if he’d missed a whole actual ghost in the city for an entire year too, he was never going to live it down.

Like any of the other ghosts had any fucking clue what it was like being half alive… or living fully inside a city spirit’s haunt. Let them visit Lady Gotham’s and see what they sensed.

“Who the hell killed the Joker?!” Jason demanded, something weirdly like panic spiking through anger. “It wasn’t fucking Bruce-”

Lady Gotham silenced them both with a pointed look, shadows growing suddenly long and dark under her stare. Then she returned her gaze to Jason, her expression sombre.

“The Joker is not a ghost, nor a halfa. Bruce Wayne resuscitated him, which may be all that kept him from becoming a manifestation himself; he was killed not only in Gotham, but by a nexus point, in rage and revenge and hatred.”

There was something dark in Lady Gotham’s eyes now, something black and burning and for half a second Danny could swear he felt that rage himself, deep in his chest.

“Something else leaked through in the short time that he was dead,” she went on, her gaze firmly locked on Jason’s and Danny couldn’t imagine just how much the older-younger halfa was feeling under its full force. “Something small, and hungry, and craving death because it was denied his - the death I believe would give it shape.”

It wasn’t enough for Jason, that much was obvious; bitterness-frustration-grief hung in the air in a cloud almost thicker than the Lady’s smogs, and this time Danny gave in to temptation.

Let his own soothing-sorrow-loss twine through, even if he didn’t exactly understand the cause of the feeling. Jason startled a little, knocked from grumbling something that hadn’t been for anyone but him, but his hand reached back for Danny’s. Squeezed tight, even as the bitterness deepened.

His eyes narrowed, he remained focused on Lady Gotham though.

“Of course. Of course he fucking brought the clown back, even after someone did the world a fucking favour,” he hissed through his teeth, then raised his voice more clearly. “So, what? No one can ever kill the Joker, or Gotham gets another curse? Who’d fucking notice at this point?”

A genuine sorrow and pain passed across Lady Gotham’s face but she schooled it, kept her own aura calm and composed… or at least in closer than they could feel. There was probably a reason she’d put space between them again.

“Not quite, but close,” she agreed softly, those red bat eyes somehow more gentle even against the black pupil. “This other entity is already here, growing each day. Every violent death in Gotham is being consumed by it, which I will admit has strengthened the truce between the Curse and myself. Neither of us wish to feed it any more than necessary.”

Danny’s brows furrowed at that and he tried to think back to everything that Frostbite had ever told him about spirits. Not the dead-people kind, but the Neverborn; entities, concepts, ideas given form. Like time, and cities.

“So… when did the Joker die?” He asked cautiously, and felt surprise jolt through Jason. Lady Gotham gave him a quick glance, and cocked her head at Jason himself.

“Not so long after Jason did. A matter of months, less than a year, though he was dead less than a few minutes.” There was something in her tone, a weight on the words that made Danny think he was on the right track… but that she didn’t want to say it.

Which. Well. That was all kinds of bad fucking news if an entity as old as Lady Gotham was wary of speaking it into being. Luckily, Danny was just a fucked up little half ghost who had absolutely no supernatural tie ins to things like belief.

And he believed in just laying all the cards on the table before he decided if he had to flip it.

“That’s really young for any kind of belief spirit,” he said bluntly, watching Lady Gotham’s eyes. Saw… just a hint of something, creasing the corners, and seriously considered reaching his aura to hers for the first time today.

It’d save so much time to just get the message through feeling, but… if she preferred words, the words had to be important, and Jason probably needed words.

Fuck, they’d all need words, because this was going to be a goddamn bat-briefing if Lady Gotham was filling them in, and Mr Emotional Repression Is My Soulmate was not going to be up to aura reads.

Chewing his lower lip, he thought through the next stage a couple times before speaking slowly, watching for any hint he was still on the right path.

“If… it’s grown fast enough that you both noticed… it’s not new?” He tried, wondering briefly if he’d retroactively doomed them all by thinking about “what else could break through” from the depths of the Zone.

Lady Gotham shook her head though, gesturing impatiently through her smoke to clear it… maybe the first sign he’d ever seen that she didn’t control it entirely.

“No. That much, we are both certain of. This entity… it is new and unformed, with no Name of its own. At the moment, all of the fear it wreaks is only feeding belief in the Curse, which is why it only has death. But there is already a will there, long before it should even have awareness. And it wants to grow.”

“Oh great, so Joker’s got a Pitty 2.0 but his is on the outside,” Jason quipped, irritation sparking through him… and Danny was kinda glad to see it, honestly. Just a little flash of the guy he’d been getting to know in all the dark.

Even Lady Gotham managed a brief smile, and didn’t actually bother refuting it; closing her eyes for a moment, she waved her hand and the clouds of smog between them solidified briefly into a model of the city. Buildings only, but with horribly empty shadows between them.

“The Joker’s death gave it an entrance, and his revival denied it his shape, his Name, and the fear he commands. But it is no longer fixated on killing the Joker - and it was, for several years. It pushed him before it had the power for anything else, driving him further, feeding poison to those around him, trying to have him killed so that it could become The Joker, the pure essence of every bloody mark the clown left on Gotham. And it very nearly succeeded,” she added softly, her gaze turning back to Jason with an almost tangible sorrow.

Something in Danny’s gut iced over, and suddenly he was really, really glad he didn’t know what she was thinking.

**

Bruce looked better as he rose from the table, Diana decided, watching her old friend closely. For all that he’d come with an actual reason for his doom and gloom (for a change), his attitude during the briefing was positively relaxed compared to their own discussion that followed.

He would still be worrying and fretting, she knew him too well to believe anything else, and… she knew why. While Diana had no children of her own (though she had met and heard of other versions of herself who had), she did dearly love her own proteges, and those of her friends.

She remembered Jason as the young, sweet boy who’d stumbled over every word he said to her and stared at her like she’d hung the stars. She remembered Bruce’s grief, Batman’s rage, and the shadow that hung over the Dark Knight with every step until Tim Drake took him to heel.

She knew that there was too much there, the guilt and pain and loss and grief for Bruce to see Jason objectively, and she didn’t begrudge him that. Nor did she condone it.

It only hurt both men, and while she would not give her opinion when it wasn’t wanted… well, she was aware Bruce spoke to Clark of his worries around Jason much more often than he would to her. This time though, she’d had no choice.

She knew the man well enough to know what was truly scaring him in this situation; that Jason would be taken from him again. He was at least as upset by this “Danny” boy as the thought of war with an entire realm.

It would have been cute, if he wasn’t a grown adult man who prided himself on critical thinking. Or actively forcing his son away with his own actions at every turn.

Still, there was one piece of counsel she could give. The thing he hated the most of all was a mystery. And while she also didn’t usually condone his stalking-as-a-sign-of-affection…

“Batman.”

He stopped in the doorway but didn’t look back, still as a statue. At least he was listening.

A fond smile pulling across her lips, Diana shook her head. Let the formal tones of Wonder Woman return to the voice of a friend.

“You see many dangers in the unknown. Perhaps you might reassure yourself by getting to know young Danny Fenton as a person, rather than a potential threat.”

He stayed frozen in the doorway for a moment longer, then nodded his head sharply and swept away.

Diana stifled a chuckle. Honestly, for all Constantine had come to her as if the world were about to end… all of their problems with this Infinite Realm were perfectly clear to her.

The American government had overstepped drastically with their Anti Ecto Acts and would be brought to heel.

The new ruler of the Infinite Realms had turned their head in this direction, and guided them to what must be fixed.

And young Jason Todd, while far from the only hero who had died and returned, had been chosen by this ruler to be favoured with protection, in exchange for service.

Of course, it may all blow out of control and become as dire as her dear friend already seemed to believe it was, but for all Bruce was constantly creating contingencies and backup plans, he very rarely had to use most of them.

She turned her attention to John Constantine instead, the magician seeming much less inclined to make himself scarce than usual. At least he had also calmed considerably, and was even smiling in his own crooked fashion after Bruce.

“You know he’s gonna go stalk that poor kid even more now?” He asked sardonically, pulling another cigarette from his pack but not reaching for the lighter.

Diana hesitated for a moment.

She’d meant for Bruce to talk to Danny, preferably directly. But Bruce did not like talking to new people; not without thorough research and a chance to prepare.

Then she shrugged.

“If it will keep him from disrupting our already tense situation with the Infinite Realms, better that he distract himself with more fatherly concerns,” she said simply.

Constantine snickered again, then frowned.

“Wait, fatherly concerns? For some kid his boy’s known like, a week?”

This time, Diana didn’t bother to restrain her smile, glancing down at the phone in her pocket.

“Merely a week, perhaps, but according to Wonder Girl they have already been caught at least once without their trousers.”

Which hadn’t been part of the official presentation, of course. Nor apparently whatever Bruce had already shared with Constantine, as the mage promptly nearly swallowed his unlit cigarette and began choking.

Diana gave him a carefully gauged slap to the back, sending the now soaked and crumpled smoke across the meeting table, but politely did not laugh.

**

Jason was pretty sure he was going to puke. Or scream. Maybe both.

It wasn’t bad enough that Bruce had refused to kill the Joker, to stop him from killing anyone else, no, he’d fucking brought him back to life. Given the fucking Joker the chance that none of his victims ever got.

None of them except Jason.

And now apparently even wanting the bastard dead was all part of some master fucking plan to make the fucking asshole even worse.

He’d wanted Bruce to be the one to avenge him from the second Tallia pulled him out of the Lazarus Pit, but when he’d come to Gotham… when his plans to carve out his turf, provoke the Joker with an old alias, set the trap had suddenly become stuffing heads in a bag…

He’d thought about it. A lot. About just hunting the fucker down, putting a bullet between his eyes, and leaving him in the Batcave deader than dead.

Had nearly done it, but no. He’d wanted… he’d wanted Bruce to choose him. To put him first, to say he loved Jason more than some moral stance, to value Tim’s life more, and Steph, and Cass, over the fucking scum who would have happily killed every last one of them with a smile on his face just to see if Bruce finally broke.

And Bruce hadn’t.

Bruce had nearly killed him.

And in and around that whole mess, he’d never gotten around to actually thinking about how his fucking daddy issues had saved the Joker’s life for… years, by now.

Jason wasn’t killing anymore. Not like, actively. Intentionally. Not because he thought Bruce was right; something, someone, had to be willing to stand up for the people of Gotham and actually stop fuckers like the Joker from killing them.

But… well, Crime Alley was his territory, and a scared enemy, a cowed enemy who’d seen their life in Jason’s hands and knew just how easily he could end it was more useful than dealing with the power vacuum, or the next million upstarts who’d think they knew better, would be better, and could take on the Red Hood themselves.

Ironically, keeping fuckers like Black Mask and Great White Shark alive and in power (at severely reduced scale) saved him time. Kept him from dealing with all those upstarts himself.

That was how Waylon had put it, back when Jason was considering adding to his bag of heads. It was… like farming. Keep them low, but keep them stable. Break anything new they went for, or anything that got on his turf.

Let them harvest some of the power hungry fucks who thought they could take a piece of the Alley.

And then Dick had noticed. And reached out. And didn’t stop until Jason gave in and reached back.

When Danny came to Gotham. Somehow, it all swung back around to Danny.

And the fact that if he actually believed what he told Bruce, he could have gone to kill the clown himself at any time since returning to the city.

And he never had. The time wasn’t right. Something came up. Something went wrong, or broke, or distracted him before he thought too hard about it.

Killing the Joker hadn’t even been in his original plans for his triumphant return. He’d just wanted to take back the Alley, prove his point to Bruce. Keep his home safe.

When had killing the Joker become such a big part of the plan? Who the fuck had gotten into his fucking head, redefined him as the last moment of his fucking life, demanded his new life be all about how the last one ended?

Eyes narrowing, he looked searchingly into Lady Gotham’s face just in time to catch her slow nod, like she’d heard every thought. Like he’d been speaking aloud.

“I could not stop it from reaching to you,” she said softly, her voice heavy with sadness, “but I could… distract. Get in the way, make its path harder. That you did not give in…”

Something soft, something proud flickered in her eyes again, and it made him want to squirm.

“You may not have consciously known that you fought yet another enemy, yet you triumphed regardless. My dear Jason…” she sighed, heavy with sorrow, and reached out a hand again as though to cup his face.

Jason found himself moving to meet her before he even thought about it. Stopped himself just before it actually got him anywhere.

He wasn’t done being angry yet. He wasn’t even sure he’d actually started. If he could ever, would ever, be angry enough for this.

There was something building in him like a tide, riding high on resentment and his spiralling thoughts. It wasn’t green tinted like the pit rage, his vision was still clear… if anything, it felt sharper, like everything had been dialled up to eleven. Like the terrible, roaring anger was seeking a target.

“I am sorry that you have been robbed of your justice in this way,” Lady Gotham said quietly and once again Jason’s focus narrowed down with her intensity, like she was the only real thing in the world, “that even your own emotions of this, your death, have been used against you. It is…”

She hesitated, actually looking to Danny for help herself for the first time. Judging from the sudden low horror Jason could feel from the other man, he might actually be under reacting.

Or the tide was still rising.

He felt like razing the whole city to the fucking ground, with his own hands, brick by brick. Or puking. Or screaming until his lungs ripped out of his chest, if only he could move.

It felt like something had reached into his brain and cranked up the contrast, made the already neon brights of the Ghost Zone brighter, the shadows darker, the very air prickling at his skin like needles with the urge to do something.

Because if he moved, did anything, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Not when every muscle ached to tear the whole universe apart.

He was almost a passenger in his own skin as something else, a different, slow boiling rage barely under control clamped him in a vice.

“So y’know we talked about not asking about how ghosts died?” Danny said slowly, his voice suddenly low and hoarse.

Jason managed a stiff nod, every muscle twanging tight with tension. It had been pretty important, pre-Ghost-Zone.

And he could put the pieces together, right from the tight hot center of that ball of rage that he was pretty sure was his own core.

“This is worse,” he said gruffly, not bothering to look over. Didn’t have to, when he could feel the face Danny was pulling through the worry-worry-fear-anger-horror still surrounding him.

He… fuck. He was a little afraid of what he might do, if there was even an ounce of pity on Danny’s face, and honestly that panicked him more than anything else. All the rage wanted was a target, and he didn’t think he’d be able to choose what it was.

Danny nodded anyway, making a conscious effort to try and reign his aura in. Like he couldn’t hear the subtext, feel it in Jason’s, or like he could and didn’t care.

It left him feeling cold, icy and alone, but still relieved under the echoing slam of rage in his veins. A little more alone in his own head. A little less watched. Judged. Not good enough.

“Like, worse than worse, dude. Ghosts will throw down and rip each other apart just for fun and no one’s actually hurt, but… you don’t fuck with somebody’s death. You just don’t. It’s the worst thing you could do to a ghost, worse than Ending them. Not even Pariah Dark…”

“Exactly,” Lady Gotham hissed, baring her teeth in something not even remotely a smile, full cheeks and lips suddenly gaunt and hollow as the teeth became fangs. It lasted barely a moment, a flicker before it faded, but it snapped Jason straight out of his fury with a sudden shock of terror.

She’d been intimidating before. Effortlessly, gracefully powerful and commanding, the kind of person people would beg to step on them without a hint of aggression. Those teeth though… just the moment of that rage, of something so powerful suddenly nothing but raw, feral danger…

It wasn’t even directed at him but it still felt like a bucket of cold water down his spine. An instant urge to duck his head, show his throat, convince this much larger predator that he wasn’t a threat.

She was immediately contrite, turning her head away as her face cast into shadow, only the red pupils still visible.

“My apologies. It is… less personal for me than it is for you, yet it seems still too close to my heart.”

Forcing himself to swallow, Jason took a couple of deep, heavy breaths. The anger was still there, kind of. He could feel it in an almost distant way, past the hammering of his heart, but it wasn’t all he was anymore.

It was just… a feeling now. One he was in control of.

The shadows were just shadows again. The green of the Zone no longer blinding.

He blew the last breath out slowly, and let the remnants of the anger go with it.

“No, uh… it’s fine. I think that helped, actually,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and suddenly embarrassed at just how tense he’d become.

Justified, apparently, from both the other ghosts’ reactions, but that didn’t mean Jason wanted to feel so out of control. How close to just… being carried away by the anger.

No matter what anyone else said, no matter what the damn Pit or Joker-monster or whatever the fuck else tried to do, Jason Todd was not going to be defined by rage.

For one thing, he’d never live it down.

Danny sagged beside him, relief as tangible as that last breath flowing out of him, despite the core of concern underneath. That was fine; Jason was still concerned too.

And maybe thinking about his stash of ecto-candies again, but he honestly didn’t feel half as drained this time. He wasn’t even scared of Lady Gotham anymore - that moment had ended as soon as it started. As soon as she’d tucked those terrifying needle-like teeth away. Now she just looked…

Proud. Proud, and fond, and so, so sad. Like Alfred had been the first time he presented Jason with his very own Robin suit for the field.

It choked something inside Jason just a little, made his throat tight and breath hitch.

“You are so much more than anyone gives you credit for, Jason Todd,” she said softly, her sclera softening briefly to a bright, sunshine yellow. Like the cape he’d drowned in as a boy flying from her rooftops, “and they all think far better of you than you believe.”

That caught him up for a moment, confusion pulling into the absolute fucking mess of emotions he was pretty sure he was projecting to all and sundry.

Then Danny sighed heavily and draped himself sideways over Jason’s shoulders like a particularly lanky and bony scarf.

“Yeah, yeah, and your ghost mom is fucking terrifying. Did not need that reminder, Ladyship,” he tossed at Lady Gotham with a cheeky wink, effectively steam rolling the tension yet again.

Jason could have kissed him, but from the angle Danny had flopped on, his options were armpit or hip, and neither appealed.

Sassy comebacks, he could handle. Reassurances that people didn’t think he was a complete sack of shit, apparently not.

The whole batfam were just perfect poster kids for mental health, alright?

The Lady herself laughed softly and inclined her head, not arguing the point.

“Of course. Still, I am sorry Jason.”

He cut her off this time, raising both hands and stopping just short of reaching for the back of his neck again, which was about where Danny’s waist was sat.

“Don’t be. I… think I needed to be knocked out of my head there. I really do feel better now,” he added, and Danny huffed a noncommittal noise and ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, well. You’re allowed to be pissed about it,” Danny informed him like he wasn’t sure if Jason actually knew that.

Which, obviously, Jason absolutely wasn’t. He had a pit ghost baby to teach good habits to, and Danny still had no idea what Jason was like when he actually lost control of the anger. But he could appreciate the sentiment.

And deflect like a Robin.

“Oh, is that a royal decree?” He asked archly, and while this noise was no more coherent than the last it was decidedly more whiny and drawn out into wordless protest.

Which still ended in a very quiet “yes.”

Luckily, quiet enough that Jason could pretend he didn’t hear it.

“Anyway, I’m good. Still gonna kick this thing’s ass for messing with my head, and maybe put it in a blender, but for now I’m good. Chill vibes only for Pitty,” he added with a roll of his eyes when Danny made a confused little chirping sound.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly to herself and nodded, resettling herself to recline on her smog clouds once more.

“Indeed. You currently have more pressing concerns; as little as I enjoy the present situation, it can wait. The Curse and I can monitor this new being’s behaviour through the rogues it has affected; they are noticeably becoming more violent, while the Curse is swaying the rest towards being less. For contrast,” she added before Jason could ask.

Which… might actually explain why Riddler had tossed a broken game box at Croc and the Wayne gala rather than trying to fix it. He’d stripped most of the interesting stuff according to Tim’s report, sure, but Nygma never let a thread go.

So he wasn’t gonna be on this new bad guy’s kill list.

Nor would Waylon, and Harley had been more destructive than homicidal for years. Already making a mental list on the events he’d caught wind of in the last few weeks, Jason didn’t even realise the conversation had moved on without him until Danny stuck a wet finger in his ear.

“What the actual fuck!” Jason demanded, trying to shrug the ghost off his shoulders. And while there was deadass no weight to Danny in this form, it was frankly unfair that he just rolled with the movement like he also didn’t have bones, snickering.

“You had Resting Bat Face,” he explained with a grin, twisting upwards to look down at him in a way that actually really shouldn’t have been doable with a human spine - and Jason had grown up around Dick Grayson, who ran the limit of everything a human spine was capable of.

“He does best with a problem to solve,” Lady Gotham noted with a sly amusement. “This one, however, has no time limit as yet. If I thought you would listen, I would have insisted on telling you at a later date.”

And that was just pointed enough that Jason rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks flush in spite of himself. He just… liked to have all of the information. It’s not like he was Bruce.

“Yeah, well, I like to know what I’m dealing with,” he grumbled, folding his arms and scowling at Danny. Who grinned back and ruffled his hair.

“Well, either way. Not like you need to pull the spandex back on imminently, right? There’s plenty of bats around,” he offered hopefully, and Jason felt a quick pang.

Danny… really didn’t want him to have to be a vigilante. He could taste it in the hope, in the worry, in everything his king was putting off. For some reason, he seemed to think Jason had come back to life and left the masks behind.

Like he hadn’t even thought about why Jason was still in fighting shape to be his fucking knight in the first place.

He knew he’d be annoyed if it was anyone else trying to insist he stay out of the game. He’d shot at Dick more than once for suggesting he go home when he was injured; the rest knew better than to say a word.

He hadn’t even considered giving up the vigilante life when he came back from the dead… except that brief period when he’d sort of been a rogue. He’d never even been a normal crime lord, most of them were way less hands on.

If he looked at the future now, he couldn’t imagine ever giving it up. The rogues would apparently literally always be a problem; the city would always need protectors.

That thought had never made him sad before, and yet…

Was it really the first time anyone had suggested he’d done enough? He’d died, and sure Jason was back now, but Danny seemed to really, actually believe he could stop wearing the mask.

That he’d given enough, given everything, and could and should just have a peaceful life now.

It made him almost ashamed to admit that he’d never even considered the possibility.

For all Jason railed against teen heroes, he’d only stopped being one for a temporary villain arc. Which was apparently at least partially supernaturally motivated, which was fun.

It’d shut Bruce up if Jason ever dragged that out in an argument, but Bruce already thought Jason was too volatile and susceptible to being controlled. Never mind that he hadn’t actually killed the Joker and started the apocalypse or whatever, all Bruce would hear was “someone else made Jason a villain so it could happen again”.

He’d probably try and take Jason off the case of this mystic whatever that was feeding on death. Fuck that noise. Until Bruce got a face to face with Lady G, Jason probably wouldn’t even tell him the details.

(Honestly, if there was even half a chance of avoiding that subject altogether, he’d take it. Bruce got ornery about magic in his city in a way none of the Robins had ever enjoyed dealing with, and that had been back when he and Jason had a good relationship.

Now… well, Constantine had been sticking around, so hopefully he could handle that mess and Jason could just get the actual work done.)

He gave Danny his best reassuring smile anyway, rolling his eyes and reaching to try and ruffle his hair. Found that he actually couldn’t quite reach with the way Danny was twisted around him, which was kinda weird.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard Frostbite. Side effects of the forming core could be pretty much fucking anything, and til Pitty pops out I’m not even gonna do research on anything that’ll set us off.”

Which wasn’t the same as saying he wouldn’t start the case. He could arrange what he already knew, start a plan of action, and organise his next steps without doing any additional research, after all.

Something about Lady Gotham’s delicately arching eyebrow let him know that she, at least, was onto his bullshit. Lucky for Jason, Danny just accepted the words, grinning and twisting around to wrap his whole head in a hug.

And then flowed back off his shoulders like a fucking liquid before Jason could worry about having to breathe.

“That’s great! Oh, and we should set up your haunt too! That’ll help!” Danny enthused brightly, clapping his hands and doing his best impression of a totally solid human that was apparently not his default.

Maybe it was a ghost thing.

Just so long as he never did it in human form, Jason could ignore that he definitely shoulda felt a ribcage being squeezed like that…

And no, Jason absolutely wasn’t wondering about what else Danny could use that noodley flexibility for. Totally not letting Dick know either… for competitive gymnast reasons, definitely.

No one wanted to deal with that.

And then his brain fizzled to a halt as Danny’s actual words penetrated and a sliver of concern slipped in.

Because… yeah. They’d talked about haunts. It was practically the first topic on the list; what to do in someone else’s haunt, what to never ever do even near someone else’s haunt, what a haunt meant to a ghost.

It was soul-underwear again, one of the most sacred parts of a person’s soul; their truest, actual home. Fortress and power source.

Halfas had to have them too, since Danny and Frostbite had both insisted that keeping and maintaining his haunt were going to be vital to his health while his cores stabilized. As in, Frostbite told him not to leave it for long and suggested redecorating as a soothing activity.

(Danny’s was officially Amity Park, which had not escaped Jason’s notice when he was apparently being put on haunt-arrest. It might have been an older halfa thing; very few ghosts actually stayed in their haunts all the time, although Jason could see the temptation.

It also might have been something else, and Jason had this thing about secrets and surprises down the line. He’d ask later, if he couldn’t work it out himself.)

Danny called Crime Alley Jason’s haunt, and that had felt right from the first time he’d said it. Crime Alley was his, his territory, his space, his home more than anywhere else. He knew it inside and out, could feel its moods and taste the changes in the air when something went wrong.

Baby ghosts usually couldn’t claim a haunt of any size as their own, but Jason knew that the Alley belonged to him.

That was before he’d met Lady Gotham. And if she was the spirit of the whole city… maybe he’d been wrong? Maybe it was just through her that he knew it so well?

He found himself looking to her uncertainly, searching her face in case there was any trace of displeasure. Any sign she didn’t want another ghost’s haunt in… well, what was kinda her physical body.

He couldn’t see or feel anything, but when she’d already been so careful about keeping her feelings her own… no better time to ask, really.

“Yeah… about that…” this time he did scratch the back of his neck, Danny safely down beside him. Which was about when he realized that he had no clue how to word the question.

Haunts were personal, he knew that much.

Then again, Lady Gotham said she was his ghost-mom. That had to include stupid questions. Blunt it was.

“Is it weird if I have a haunt in the city? I mean, it’s obviously your city, duh, but how do I… it feels like I’m squatting in your closet,” he said finally, giving up on not being just the most awkward creature in a thousand mile radius.

Danny’s mouth opened and closed a few times, excitement fading to a confused fascination as his words sunk in.

“Y’know, that’s a really good point… except it’s more like he’s squatting in your kidneys,” he pointed out to Lady Gotham, turning to face her too.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly and took a slow drag from her traffic cone, which had almost stopped smoking.

“Ah, I forget the limitations of a halfa’s knowledge… all ghosts begin with a haunt within their parent’s, Jason. From the moment you returned to my arms I opened up the Alley for you, and it has been yours ever since.” She paused to blow out a long plume of smog, which shaped itself into a tiny row of very familiar buildings.

Jason didn’t have to see more than a couple to know what they were; he could feel it right down to his core.

“When you are older, stronger, you may desire another, although being in the mortal world is already a degree of distance, but Crime Alley will always be your first,” Lady Gotham continued as Crime Alley bloomed from the smog before them, tiny and yet more than just an image, more than just a replica; the real thing in the scope of her power.

There were no lights in tiny windows, nothing moving through the smog, and yet it was still clearly alive. No, filled with things that were alive, people and noise and even the rats.

And it was his. His beating heart.

Lady Gotham’s smile was a tender beacon in the fog, her hands coming up to caress the smoking Crime Alley and gently waft it in his direction.

“Every crumbling brick, every pothole, every shadow. It is a heavy responsibility, and one I shall share with you until you decide you no longer need my help, but it will always be yours, Jason. It would not have accepted anyone else.”

The cluster of smoggy buildings fell apart as they reached Jason and for a moment he nearly panicked trying to keep them together, but… he was suddenly washed in a wave of old, familiar scent.

Not the burned rubber and pollution of all the rest of the smogs, the constant smell of the city. This was… floral. Soft, and sweet, and chemical in the way that cheap perfumes always were because they couldn’t have afforded the good ones.

Watered down, because they could get even that so rarely that she would begin refilling the bottle with water when it was barely half empty. Catherine Todd’s favourite perfume.

It hadn’t covered the stink of cigarettes and worse coming from the very walls of their apartment; he’d only smelled it when she was holding him close. Shielding him from Willis’s rage, tucking him into bed, cuddled up on the couch to wait out the rain or sickness.

The smell of home.

It brought tears to his eyes, the pressure of the day threatening to spill over and overwhelm him again.

Intellectually, it felt like another moment that should have been terrifying. More than any show of teeth, this was her strength. Who and what she was, she could break him with a wave of her hand, a wisp of smoke, and yet…

He felt warm. Comforted. Wrapped in her smile and at peace in a way he hadn’t in… fuck it had been years.

There was something else too, a layer under the flowers that only the deepest detective-trained parts of him tried to pluck apart; it was part of the home smell, inextricable, but it didn’t make sense. Wasn’t the perfume. Just the very faintest hint of baking far away, and Catherine Todd had never been able to afford…

Oh.

Of course not. Because Catherine Todd, his mother in every possible sense of the word but one, had never met Alfred.

**

So, the good news: Tucker was currently in the lead for Spiderheck. Bad news: they’d finished the first set (Tim won, but he’d been two ahead from the start which was cheating), and… the game had ticked directly over into another set.

They hadn’t been planning on changing any settings, so it was fine, and Conner and Tim hadn’t noticed anything wrong.

But… Tucker was beginning to worry, just a little. He’d done video games before, with Danny and Sam; no worries, they’d taken a turn directly in pretty much every game they’d played together.

Just, y’know, he knew Danny and Sam really well. And Tim and Conner were really cool, and he understood a lot more about how the Supers worked than he ever had before? But, maybe that was why he’d kinda screwed up.

Because he wanted things to be fair, and didn’t want them to think he’d given himself extra advantages. So they were all spiders, all the same.

And he wasn’t completely sure where the meta controls were?

Danny and Sam always insisted he have a version of the controller somewhere, so they could flick to the menu (and sometimes run riot there too). Last time they did Spiderheck, he’d put the buttons on his stomach, so Danny and Sam could try and hit them for an extra level of difficulty.

But he wanted to be fair. Didn’t want extra powers. And, apparently, technopathy had sorta maybe converted that wish into him not being able to feel it while he was spidered up.

All his combat moves were fine! The break, grab, web commands were smooth and easy, just like every other time he did them. Different attacks, no worries. And, obviously, he hadn’t stood still and tried to look for the code, because they were playing Spiderheck and that was a really easy way to get wiped.

Dodging another swinging attack from Tim, he scuttled at top speed across the platform and jumped behind a box. No weapons here, and he scanned quickly for the next spawn point.

Which, normally, shoulda shown up on two levels; the normal game vision, and the white lined underlay of the code, which he could always see through from top to bottom of the level.

(This was usually an active impediment rather than an advantage in Spiderheck; it was way too hard to know what he could stand on.)

He couldn’t see one, just the platform above and the wall behind.

Maybe he should take an early death, just to give himself a little time to work this out. Just so he could stop worrying. He was 21, he’d had these powers for years, he totally knew how they worked by now.

He just, maybe, might have gotten overconfident.

Danny would never let him live it down if they all had to be rescued from Spiderheck.

And, way more importantly, Tim Drake-Wayne and his super hot boyfriend would only remember him as the loser who couldn’t even control his powers.

Nope. Absolutely not.

A loud buzzing heralded the arrival of one of the spinning laser traps, and Tucker made up his mind. Just one early death. No worries. He had a two win lead, and honestly he’d rather lose the set than admit he’d fucked up.

Scuttling “away” from Tim’s probable next attack, Tucker scurried into the path of the spinning laser trap.

And saw, at the very last second, Conner swinging in from the other side, directly into a laser.

Shit.

**

Sam was comfortably snuggled down into her pillows and thoroughly enjoying the chaos her new chat was creating when she finally heard the door. A little too buried to easily get up, or look particularly graceful doing it, so instead she stuck a hand straight up into the air.

“In here, love!”

And, like the angel of mercy that she was, Val only made her wait ten minutes to get out of all of her winter gear and put the kettle on before coming to save her from her fate.

“Not the fastest rescue I’ve received,” Sam teased, even as Val hauled her easily to her feet. Val grinned back and pulled her in for a quick peck.

“I wasn’t aware I was being timed. I can do better.”

“I bet you can,” Sam laughed, draping her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders. Val gave her another, deeper kiss, then drew back enough to press their foreheads together.

“So, how was Gotham? I saw Danny made the front page,” she teased back, and Sam hesitated.

In amongst all of their various plans for disaster, it hadn’t really come up that whatever they did at the party, it was sure to make the gossip rags. Front page though? That was probably an achievement.

And, given what she herself had done, really annoying.

“What, they gave the front page to him? I blatantly accused at least two CEOs and Lex Luthor of weaponizing misogyny, with citations, and Danny got the front page?” She huffed, drawing back and folding her arms, fully intent on turning away to sulk, but not remotely objecting when Val’s arms snuck around her waist and pulled her back in.

Val’s chin tucked in over her shoulder and the taller woman snickered.

“I know, right? Sadly cold hard facts just fade away in the face of a scandal.” Val sighed dramatically, then dropped a kiss on the side of Sam’s neck. “You’re on page seven. It’s mostly about your parents, but using Lex’s name got a couple other points in. Oh, and Vicki Vale did a three page piece on how Brucie Wayne specifically upholds the patriarchy. I think she quoted you.”

Sam considered that for a moment, her arms automatically coming around to cover Val’s for a brief squeeze. It wasn’t like she’d actually been planning to change anything at the gala. Mostly she’d just wanted to be heard.

It could be an interesting starting point, though. Especially since she got to pick her outfit for the next gala; her mother hadn’t even specified that it had to be a dress on the document, which was definitely a peace offering.

Cass Wayne had looked really good in that suit.

Her cheeks suddenly hot for absolutely no reason, Sam twisted in Val’s arms to kiss her again.

“I’m sorry my mom’s… the worst,” she finished lamely, wrapping her arms around Val again.

The whole fall-from-grace thing may have been seven years ago, and Val had more than moved on, but. Well. Sam didn’t exactly believe all the scars had healed.

Especially when Val stilled for a moment in her arms.

Then she chuckled, wrapping her arms a littler tighter around Sam and lifting her off her feet.

“Hey, at least she’s not actually a bigot. It’s always nicer to be hated personally than in general, y’know?” She teased, echoing something Sam was pretty sure Danny had said to her back in her Phantom-hunting days.

Sam huffed and wrapped her legs around Val’s waist too, raining kisses down on her face.

“Yeah, well, she can still shove it up her ass. You’re my date for the next gala, if you actually want to come.”

Which.

Well.

Was about when she realized that the next gala was probably going to be extra interesting, after all their shenanigans. Maybe they should have been more discrete? More careful?

Her worry must have shown on her face, because Val gave her a very gentle bounce to shake her out of it.

“Hey. Samantha Manson. I would be delighted to go to the next gala with you, and tell all the little journalists that yeah, I’m that Val,” she said firmly once Sam had refocused on her. Then she grinned. “I’ll even be on my best behaviour and not one up Danny until the second one.”

That made Sam laugh again, hugging on tight even as Val turned and easily carried her through to their little kitchenette and sat her up on one of the counters.

“Hey, did you get that autograph from Harley for me by the way? I wanna send it to my dad for his birthday,” she added, sneaking another kiss and then pulling a pair of mugs next to the steaming kettle.

Sam considered hopping off the counter. Didn’t bother, reaching behind herself instead to pull her favourite tea for the month and drop a bag into her mug.

“Yeah, a couple actually. And she said if we wanna meet Ivy she’ll let us know when they’re back on the west coast, but it won’t be any time soon.” That hadn’t been particularly surprising, but it still made Sam a little sad.

Just another reminder that they were on the outside looking in all the way over here.

Valerie stilled, coming back and resting both hands on Sam’s thighs.

“Do you miss being on the east coast?” She asked quietly, those gorgeous green eyes so large and gentle.

Sam hesitated a moment longer, then sighed and let her head thunk back against the cupboard behind her.

“Honestly, I think I just miss being closer to everyone. It’s not far for Danny with the Zone, but if you or I wanna visit anyone we have to hop on an airplane or spend weeks driving, neither of which are good for the environment. We just… get forgotten out here, stuck out of the loop.”

Val raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her face but eyes still soft with understanding.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk. I thought I’d pick up a new phone and rejoin the group chat that day, but suddenly I gotta wait nearly a week for “new secrets”,” she teased and Sam sighed, shaking her head. Not quite able to lift all the way out of her funk.

“Yeah, I know… it probably woulda been fine, Danny shouldn’t have dropped anything at all in the main chat if he didn’t want everyone to see it, I just…”

“Wanted to be more sensitive than he is,” Val finished the sentence, leaning in for another kiss. Not needing to reach up even with Sam sat on the counter. “That’s why I’m still dating you.”

It did pull a smile from Sam anyway and she draped her arms over her girlfriend’s shoulders again.

“For some reason. So, what did you think?”

Val shrugged, her hands sliding up to settle around Sam’s waist.

“About a new halfa? Probably sucks for him. Especially when he’s gotta come out as dead to his family. The Waynes aren’t exactly known for being stable,” she pointed out when Sam snickered.

Which was a fair point.

“They’re actually worse when there’s more of them,” she mused, glancing back towards the bed where she’d left her phone, “and the oldest’s a cop now.”

This time it was Val’s turn to snicker.

“Yeah, I heard. Tuck already sent me the blow by blow of you eviscerating the poor guy.”

Sam preened. Deservedly.

“Hey, you know me, I’m not gonna play nice just cuz I’ve been dragged to some social function.”

The snicker turned to a chuckle as Val leaned in, rubbing their noses together.

“And you know me, baby girl, ACAB all the way, and I still think that should extend to the Justice League. Heard half of Batman Inc also showed up, did you let them have it too?”

“You know I did,” Sam purred, locking her ankles behind Val’s back and nipping playfully at her lower lip. Val laughed, her hands creeping slowly up the small of Sam’s back.

“That’s my little leopard. Tea’s done.” And then, totally unfairly, she reached back with one hand and pulled Sam’s ankles apart, slipping free with a laugh as Sam pouted. “Hey, you’d be more upset if I let it over steep.”

“I can make more tea,” Sam grumbled, finally slipping off the counter, but a rebellious smile made it onto her face anyway. Val toasted her with the french press.

“True that, darling, but I’m not wasting the good coffee beans. Daddy asked me four times if I was sure about taking the train but honestly, he’s a state away now, it’s not worth a flight.”

Setting her teabag aside, Sam squirted in some vanilla agave syrup and took a deep breath. Gotham was fine, but no hotels could match her home tea stash. Not even the Waynes could.

“Beautiful, strong, environmentally conscious, and a Daddy’s girl. How did I land you again?” She asked innocently as Val dropped creamer into her own mug.

“By being all of those but the last one,” Val countered easily, taking a mug and holding an arm out for Sam to tuck under. “Now c’mon, if I’m going to the next gala you need to tell me allllll about a certain cutie Cassandra Wayne,” she cooed, making for their couch.

Sam’s face flushed red and she made to duck away instantly, but those damn vigilante muscles made it so hard.

“Okay, veto, you’re not allowed to do that anymore! My mom is trying to hook me up with her!” Sam did not whine. She. Protested. With dignity. Totally no idea why Val snickered, holding her coffee up and away in her other arm.

“Yeah, that’s the point. How funny would it be if Danny and I both stole a Wayne from you?” She asked with a vicious grin.

Which… did make Sam pause. Because that would be really funny. And Cass would almost certainly be down for it; she wasn’t as loud or attention seeking as any of the boys, but Sam could recognize the wicked gleam in anyones’ eyes when they enjoyed the chaos.

Then she sighed.

“No, we have to be good for the next gala. Otherwise no one’s going to listen to what I actually have to say.”

Val hummed an agreement, guiding her to sit on the plush, well loved cushions. It was an old couch, and a hand-me-down from Sam’s work, but it was just too good to pass up. They could both lie comfortably side by side on the seat, if they snuggled just a little, and the back was wide and plush enough for two throws.

“Okay. The gala after that, then. It’ll make our slow burn long distance romance all the more compelling,” she added when Sam snorted, finally releasing Sam to sink comfortably into oblivion.

Sam swatted at her and put her tea down on the table.

“You’re dreadful. I love you. We’ll ask Cass, lemme just get my phone and I’ll hook you into the group chat with her, Steph, and Babs. They’re Wayne family friends,” she added at Val’s questioning noise, “I haven’t met Babs yet, but Steph is great. You’re gonna love her.”

“Only if we’re going for some three’s company action,” Val snickered as Sam jogged to the bedroom, flipping her girlfriend off as she went.

**

Jason was quiet as they left the Zone. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, especially after the day he’d had and the emotional whiplash.

Danny was doing his very best not to let it bother him. He remembered the early days of being a halfa, how much he’d second-guessed himself, how much every new change and discovery had rocked his world. And he’d been a teenager, all hormones and fire and energy.

He hadn’t even been dead a month before shit got weird.

Jason was twenty-two, and had already been dead for almost seven years. Danny’d like to think he’d found ways to cope, but seven years in himself he was pretty sure he still hadn’t.

Whatever Jason had dealt with in those six and a half years was being ripped up in front of him day by day.

If there was anything he wanted, anything he needed, Danny would be there for him in a heartbeat. Before he could even have to ask, if possible. Aaaand the only thing he couldn’t do that for was if Jason needed space.

Lady Gotham had been able to open them a portal directly into Jason’s apartment; Danny preferred to aim high enough to miss walls and buildings on the way back, but it was her city. She knew exactly where everything and anything was - the portal had been in the back of Jason’s front door.

Danny totally wasn’t jealous. He could come back out almost at the same place he’d gone in, if he was quick. And he could go intangible anyway.

It was still really cool to watch the city spirit do it, the way the realms opened easily and willingly at her touch. She’d given Jason a token, a coin that had to be at least six hundred years old that showed the city’s skyline. Apparently he could use it to get in touch with her, or get back to the Zone on his own if Danny couldn’t take him.

Danny was fine with that. For sure.

The Infinite Realms were dangerous, but the token should bring him straight to Lady Gotham, in an emergency. And then Danny could follow and find her, and find Jason. It was a super reasonable backup plan.

He still found himself hovering in the doorway, unsure if Jason wanted him to stay or go while the other man shrugged out of his coat, boots, and shoulder holster that Danny had totally missed this entire time. And then walked directly into the bathroom.

Danny hovered a little closer, entirely unknowing what exactly he’d do if Jason was crying. Or screaming. Or beating a hole in the wall away from prying eyes. Or, actually using the bathroom for its intended purpose, apparently.

Because Danny forgot Jason was still in mandatory human form at all times.

He couldn’t hear anything from inside the bathroom with the door shut anyway, not even movement or the sink running. But then again, Jason’s family knew Superman personally. That probably lead to some inside jokes and really specific precautions.

Danny hovered back to the door. Stared around at the incredibly clean, well organized display of video games and weaponry on the walls, the double shelf of books.

This, he was beginning to suspect, was a third, larger, more expensive apartment. The furniture and room layouts were about the same, but he was like 80% sure the apartment they’d played MarioKart in hadn’t had as much stuff.

This one had some dishes waiting by the sink though. Given how well organized everything else was, they stuck out.

…

Five minutes. Jason was still in the bathroom.

Danny hated waiting. If he was going to stick around, he could justify it by helping out. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

———————

Part two imminent! All my love to the tag list, you’ll be following the link on this one so you don’t get both separately

Part 2:

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop p @mayoota-blog @xysidhe e @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper r @bun-fish @aroranorth-west  @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking g @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor r @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 8 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf f @frivolous-pastel

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny fenton dead and loving it #dfdali #dead on main ship #chapter probably 18 part 1 #so that just happened #in which there is LORE #and SPIDERHECK #and LESBIANS #feast my children feast

[chirpsythismorning]

Something we should definitely not overlook, because it feels relevant to birthdaygate, is the individual character posters for season 4.

There's actually even an interview with the Duffer Brothers, where they were asked about this theory:

Though, I should clarify, this interviewer got a few details wrong, as it appears Max was actually looking away from the camera, not directly at it. Not only that, but she also wasn’t the only one to do so. She was one out of four total...

Looking directly at the camera: El, Hopper, Murray, Will, Argyle, Steve, Dustin, Robin, (not shown above: Karen, Lucas, Erica, Nancy, Eddie)

Looking away from the camera, to their left: Joyce, Mike, Jonathon, Max

We could deduce that this visual choice was foreshadowing Max getting cursed by Vecna in season 4, and Matt did sort of elude to this in his response to the question, seeing as it was focused only on her. But what could this possibly mean for the other three then?

Initially, it didn’t seem like we got anything substantial enough in s4 that could have possibly paralleled Joyce, Mike and Jonathon to Max's situation, or even being cursed by Vecna like she did for that matter. Well, except—

I do find it interesting that the same episode we see Max slowly discover she has been cursed, in an episode literally titled 'Vecna's Curse', it's March 22nd, Will's birthday, and in real time we are seeing the three people who would definitely never forget Will's birthday, presumably forget.

Because undeniably, the first thing that crosses my mind when it comes to what could possibly connect these three characters with each other, is Will. He's what connects them all. But even more specifically, THIS scene below is what connects them all, a scene which, might I remind you, has a major emphasis on the word 'remember':

Joyce: Do you know what March 22nd is? It’s your birthday. YOUR birthday. When you turned 8, I gave you that huge box of crayons, do you remember that?

Jonathon: Do you remember the day dad left?

Mike: Do you remember the first day that we met?

Vecna:

Not only do I think this means that Vecna most likely took away these three's memory of Will’s birthday, I also think it means he took away this specific memory and all the memories mentioned within it.

If it's all coming full circle and everything leads back to Will, it would make sense that Vecna 'took notes' during this whole incident in 2x08. These memories and these specific people in Will's life played a role in thwarting Vecna's plans last time, so obviously, he's not going to give them the chance to do that again.

This also brings up some interesting questions:

Were those weird POV shots of the Cali gang, that looked oddly stalker-ish, meant to represent Vecna keeping a close eye on them, to make sure his plan was still in motion?

How long will this manipulation (curse) Vecna has on these three last? And to what extent? Will it all just come to a head right away in early season 5, at a moment when they're trying to save Will, but they inevitably fail because all of the relevant things that saved him last time, are now missing from their memories?

And last, but definitely not least, is it possible Mike wouldn’t have gone through with professing his love to El, the way that he did, even going as far as to say his life started the day he found her in the woods (the day Will went missing), if he had remembered already doing the exact same thing with Will…? If he had remembered the best thing he'd ever done was ask Will to be his friend? Because if this theory is correct y’all... MIKE DOESN'T REMEMBER!!!???

Well, that's all (for now)

Please be sure to check out this post if you haven't already, but even more importantly, scroll down to the bottom of that post, because there I have linked all the most incriminating evidence thus far.

And trust me, once you read all of it, it's pretty much undeniable.

I also hope this gives some validation to those of you out there who denied vehemently that Joyce, Mike or Jonathon could EVER possibly forget Will's birthday. Because you were right. Technically, they didn't. Technically it required an inter-dimensional monster for this to be possible at all. So props to ya'll and your faith in these characters! YOU WERE RIGHT!

#stranger things #will byers #stranger things meta #stranger things theory #birthdaygate #stranger things 5 #st5 headcanon #also hate to be the bitch to bring this up... #but you know how we always joked about how jonathon would be the only one to save will bc he knows his favorite song... #well.. in that scene in the shed back in s2... jonathon mentions that memory... #which means he doesn't remember #WHICH MEANS WILL IS FUCKED BASICALLY #yeah it might be good to go back and see everything they mentioned #because it's basically a free for all in terms of vecna swiping those memories right out of their brains #will byers im praying for you #that whole thing about s5 going back to s1 vibes has me scared... #but also there's a lot of foreshadowing that mike is in danger.? #so im not totally convinced he doesn't somehow mess up vecna's plan yet again... #maybe that's how him and will both end up stuck in the upside down together... #yes I will turn this around so it benefits me #what about it?

[futfemfantasies]

Aussie love - Hayley Raso x reader

Request: For hayley raso one say reader travels from Australia too Manchester to watch haykey play maybe she could be just a fan at first and hayley sees reader in the crowd with a australia top with raso on it so hayley goes and introduce her self  and asks reader out and on there dare she kisses reader obviously reader is Australian 

I kind of went a little bit over board with this one so bare with me 😅

Today is the day you finally get to see your favourite soccer team play. Your best friend and you have travelled from Australia for a soccer tour, as you both like to call it. You have bought many tickets to various WSL and premier league games over the month you are there. You and your best friend head out early in the freezing cold to grab breakfast and do a bit of sightseeing before the game. You both decide to eat the local cafe you have grown to love. When you walk in you tell your friend that you’ll get a table. As you sit down, you didn’t notice a familiar ribbon wearing soccer player in the corner. Throughout your breakfast, you didn’t recognise the brunette but you caught her eye several times. Later on, it was getting close to game time so your friend and you decided to head to the field.

After getting through the long lines, you get to your seats and are satisfied with the seat selection your friend chose. You hear the announcer call out the Man City team and you cheer along with the rest of the crowd as they come onto the field. You start taking pictures of the team, focussing on one player in particular. Next the Everton team come out and a small amount of cheers is heard. The two captains shake hands and they pick where their team is starting from. The ref blows the whistle and the game begins. Everton is putting up a good fight but Manchester City are just too good. First Mary Fowler scores a goal then 15 minutes later, your favourite player scores. You scream a tad louder than everyone else and she looked over with a smile.

The end of the game comes around and the Manchester players come around the sign shirts and posters. You get some selfies with other players before your favourite comes in front of you. Hayley greets you and smiles wide when she recognises your accent. Hayley’s signs the back of your jersey and writes something extra on there. You pull down your hoodie and turn back around to see Hayley get told to move onto the people around you. After all the players leave, you and your friend walk out and back to the hotel a block away.

Back in the hotel room, you take off your hoodie and you hear your best friend gasp. You ask her what’s wrong and she said to look at the back of your jersey. You take off your shirt since you have another underneath and turn the jersey around to see the short message written in the most beautiful handwriting.

(Phone number) text me gorgeous xx

Your mouth goes wide and you race to grab your phone. You text Hayley and send a photo of your jersey so she doesn’t think you’re a stalker. Over the next couple of days you two text and call each other, until Hayley asks you out. You immediately say yes and you realise you have no date worthy clothes with you. You go shopping for the next few hours and race back to the hotel to get ready. Your friend does your makeup and hair and as you slip on your shoes, you get a text that says…

Hey gorgeous, I’m in the lobby xx

You squeal like a little girl and your friend rushes you out the door. The whole way down to the lobby you are freaking out. You wipe you hands on your dress pants and take a deep breath. The elevator doors open and you walk out looking around to find Hayley. You spot her looking down at her phone so you send her a text and she looks up with the biggest grin on her face. We give each other a hug then we walk out to her car. A few hours later and you being very over dressed for laser tag and bowling, you arrive back to your hotel. Hayley offers to take you back to your room because she claims “it’s late at night and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you”. You reach your door and Hayley holds your waist and pulls you towards her slightly. She holds your cheek and starts to lean in. You two share what will be your first kiss of many.

After that first date, you went to the next few City games over the coming weeks and surprised Hayley each time. Unfortunately, it was the last game you could go to until you had to fly back home. Hayley knew this and promised to make this game a showstopper. Throughout both halves of the game, Hayley scored two goals and both times pointed to you and made a heart with her hands. This little gesture made you blush and you friend nudged and teased you to no end. The game ended with City winning 4-0 and Hayley makes a beeline to you after shaking the players hands. 

“You played amazing” You say as you give Hayley a tight hug. 

“Only for you” Hayley replies as you both pull away with both of your faces centimetres from each others.

“Can I kiss you?” Hayley asks. 

“You don’t ever have to ask”

You both share a quick yet loving kiss, causing some fans around you to cheer. You pull back and you’re smiling like a kid with ice cream.  

“Where’s your friend?” You look beside you and realise your friend isn’t next to you. You look around and notices she’s talking to Alanna. 

“She’s occupied” Hayley follows where you’re looking and laughs when Alanna is flirting with your friend. 

A few days later, it’s time for you to fly back to Australia but little does Hayley know you’ll be back very soon and permanently. Your friend extended her holiday and you and Hayley think it’s because of Alanna. Hayley pulls up to the airport parking area and you don’t move. You feel a squeeze on your thigh and look at Hayley as she gives you a sad smile.

“Come on babe, I’ll come in with you” You try to hide your smile at the pet name but fail terribly.

You grab your bags and you two walk in hand in hand into the airport. You know Hayley can’t go passed security without a ticket but she stays with you for as long as she can. You walk up to the check in line and wait with the other 20 or so people there. Hayley brings up the dreaded conversation of what you two are going to do with the distance and all. 

“Well actually, we don’t have to worry about that” 

Hayley gives you a confused look and you explain that the company you work for is expanding to London and need some people to help set it up. Hayley smiles widely and hugs you tight. 

“Congratulations! That’s amazing news. When are you coming back?”

“In a month or so”

As you both inch forward in the line, you stand behind Hayley with your arms around her waist. She leans back into you and your chin rests on her head. You have an idea in your head but are tossing up whether right now is the best time to do it. 

“I can’t go on this flight without knowing that you’re mine. Will you be my girlfriend?” You whisper in Hayley’s ear and she immediately turns around and kisses you.

“I thought you’d never ask” 

#womens soccer #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #hayley raso x reader #matildas x reader #mcfc x reader

[dream-meister-translations]

PERSONA 5 : THE PHANTOM X

PERSONA 5 : THE PHANTOM X BETA - PART 5

━

Wonder approaches Merope who is examining a Rise Kujikawa poster hanging up in the station. 

WONDER : (It's Merope...)

MEROPE : The power of the "Persona" should allow one to enter the Velvet Room through this poster...Let me give it a try.

With an elegant swipe of her hair, she turns the poster into a blue doorway and walks straight through the wall into what we can presume is the Velvet Room. Wonder is watching the whole thing transpire. Scratching his head with confusion.

WONDER : (What was that just now...? Ugh. I don't have time to think about it, I'm gonna be late for school...)

-

[The following is a description of a scene cut from the Beta version of the game ]

Above ground, on a crowded platform, Wonder boards the train. He brushes shoulders with a man dressed in a business suit, who nods politely. However, when his gaze lingers on a woman, his expression suddenly becomes unsettling.

-

Wonder is standing in the tram, there are three school girls seated on the bench in front of him. One with pigtails and two others whispering to each other. 

GOSSIPING FEMALE STUDENT 1 : Look at that boy over there...

GOSSIPING FEMALE STUDENT 2 : Oh! He's so handsome!

WONDER : (Are they talking about me...? This is a little embarrassing...)

GOSSIPING FEMALE STUDENT 1 : It must be him...He's wearing the school uniform~ 

GOSSIPING FEMALE STUDENT 2 : I didn't expect to see Ichinami-senpai this early in the morning~ 

The camera pans over to a mature looking male who is reclining against the tram and reading a book. 

GOSSIPING FEMALE STUDENT 1 : Quiet down! Causing a commotion won't be good, it might catch his attention. 

GOSSIPING FEMALE STUDENT 2 : You're right, I wouldn't wanna make him think I'm a creepy stalker or something!

WONDER : (Doesn't seem like they're talking about me...)

STATION ANNOUNCEMENT : Now arriving at Shimokitazawa Station.

WONDER : (Time to get off...)

-

Wonder is standing in line waiting to leave the station and there are two older men with glasses standing behind him.

WONDER : (Ugh...I can't find my tram pass...)

MAN IN SUIT : What the hell is taking so long?

CONCERNED MAN : If I'm late again, it will count as missing a day of work and my boss will be angry...

He gets out of line and searches for his pass. After a few minutes, he is standing with knuckles to chin, deep in thought. The girl with pigtails from earlier approaches him.

WONDER : (I still can't find it anywhere...)

SOFT-SPOKEN GIRL : Excuse me...I found this monthly tram pass on the tram, did you perhaps drop it?

WONDER : (It's my pass!)

SOFT-SPOKEN GIRL : It is yours right? I could have sworn it fell out of your bag...

WONDER : Yeah, it's mine. Thank you.

SOFT-SPOKEN GIRL : Great! Here you go. I'll be on my way then...

-

Wonder makes his way from the station to Kokatsu Academy, heading inside the building.

-

[The following is a description of a scene cut from the Beta version of the game ]

A woman is walking, while looking at her phone, when suddenly a man collides with her. The woman, enduring pain and fear, is quick to flinch back and move away. In a rage, the man follows after the woman. She is screaming and so are the other women around. 

-

Wonder, now inside his classroom, is sitting at his desk droning away, looking bored while Kumi Katayama teaches. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : Alright, let us begin math class. Hm...Why does everyone look so drowsy? 

KUMI KATAYAMA : I suggest we start with a warm-up for our brains. Wonder, how about you answer this one?

KUMI KATAYAMA : In Japan, there is such a thing as "becoming a delinquent" or "going awry." This ideology originates from a certain creature. What is that creature? 

WONDER : A crow.

KUMI KATAYAMA : Unfortunately, the correct answer is a clam. Most people don't understand why this is. Even I was confused at first. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : Typically a clam has two shells that fit together perfectly. This ideology is derived from the concept of a clam whose shells don't fit. It's as if they've "gone awry." Just like those unruly delinquents. 

KUMI KATAYAMA : It seems like none of you are interested... Very well, open your textbooks and let us continue from where we left off last week...

-

The bell for the last class of the morning rings. 

Students are leaving the classroom, but Wonder and Arai are still sitting in their seats. Arai turns in her chair to face Wonder. 

UNSHAVEN MALE STUDENT : Ugh...I'm so bored during class that I start thinking about what to eat for lunch, but I'm not even hungry...

PLUMP FEMALE STUDENT : Why do we still have classes in the afternoon? Ugh...I want to lose weight but it's so hard to stick with it...

MOTOHA ARAI : I saw what happened yesterday. That was crazy! 

WONDER : What do you mean?

MOTOHA ARAI : You were THERE, surely you know what I'm talking about? That lunatic on the bicycle was crashing into everyone on the tram. Thankfully the station staff arrived in time, so no one was seriously injured. But the culprit had disappeared. Do you think he was a "Phantom"? 

WONDER : A Phantom?

MOTOHA ARAI : It's a term they use on a website called "Mogami." Have you heard of it?

WONDER : Mogami?

MOTOHA ARAI : It's a website that posts footage of troublemakers captured by security cameras all around Tokyo. 

MOTOHA ARAI : The person running the website is called "The Wretched God." Of course, that's not his real name. The website is filled to the brim with terms I don't quite understand. 

MOTOHA ARAI : To be honest, I just check it to pass the time. I don't know much else. But, everyone seems to be talking about "Mogami" lately. I heard the number of visitors to the website has tripled in only a few days. It's more than some B-list celebrity fan bases. 

MOTOHA ARAI : Take a look. 

She shows Wonder her phone, on the screen is the front page of the website that says "Mogami." He examines it closely.

MOTOHA ARAI : Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk about. I have something I need to ask you, Wonder. Yesterday, how did you suddenly appear in Shibuya...? You disappeared from the train and then...

SOFT-SPOKEN GIRL : Arai~

The girl with pigtails from the tram approaches the two of them. She seems in a cheerful mood. 

SOFT-SPOKEN GIRL : Oh, you're the guy from this morning...So you and Arai are in the same class, huh? Are you two discussing something private?

MOTOHA ARAI : Ah, never mind. It's nothing important...

SOFT-SPOKEN GIRL : Don't we have plans to go to lunch together, Arai?

MOTOHA ARAI : R-Right. Let's go! Just forget I said anything strange! 

With that, Arai grabs her phone and heads off with the soft-spoken girl, but not before Wonder catches a glimpse of the apps on her phone. The same app that keeps re-downloading itself onto his phone is on her phone too.

WONDER : (That app is...)

Suddenly, Ruferu flies up to the window holding a note in his beak that says "Go to the rooftop for lunch." 

WONDER : (Huh...The note says "Go to the rooftop for lunch." Looks like Ruferu will be waiting for me there...)

#persona 5 #p5x #persona 5 phantom x #p5x translation #persona 5 phantom x translation #persona 5 x #persona 5 x translation #p5px #p5px translation #p5xpart5

[rainbowcarousels]

Ten 'Once Daniel has returned to Trinity Gate' headcanons that no one asked for:

Trinity Gate is a matching Christmas pajamas household. You know you're truly considered a member of the family when you get a pair. Lestat eventually gets his in silk but the same design. Armand, once they've at least opened a dialogue because Marius is also important to Daniel, sends some to Marius and invites him because he's still family and they're trying to sort themselves out.

They don't always spend the day together. Daniel can get overstimulated and Louis is still an introvert, so sometimes they like to have their own space. Armand is the exception - given the choice, he never sleeps on his own. He knows he'll wake first and loves to be curled into someone else's arms. It helps remind him that whatever he dreamt, he's not alone anymore.

Armand braves the intense scents of Lush so Louis can have his variety of candles that aren't as artificial as the Bath & Bodyworks ones. Louis rarely buys them for himself, but when Armand notices he's low on one or feeling down, he likes to give them to him.

Daniel cannot figure out what to get people for their first holiday together until he decides on animal adoption and experience. It ends up being a hell of a family day out: Armand's red panda hangs off his arm and sticks out his tongue, much to his lovers delight. Sybelle is very excited to throw the bloody meat to her new lion friend and Benji laughs himself stupid as the Penguin fusses around him, curious about their companion for the evening. Louis reads to his giant turtle and for a while, everything becomes turtles for him: sweaters, candles, blankets, books, documentaries. Daniel ends up feeling pretty proud of his first attempt to do a 'family' gift.

The first time Daniel really struggles with the noises and intensity of New York, Louis pulls him into his room - a lot more muted than his own or Armand's by his own request - and lets him lay with the curtains on the four-poster Armand insisted drawn and reads aloud to give him something to focus on so he doesn't spiral. It marks a turning point in their individual relationship, that even if it's not inherently romantic, they do very clearly love each other and it's both their homes.

Louis is the first one to split his time between France and Trinity Gate. They all end up doing it just because they don't like being apart for that long and Lestat, being Lestat, also shows up at Trinity Gate half the time during the periods they make it back there. It's unofficial, this Lestat shaped addition to their ongoing relationship, because no one really talks about it. Daniel breaks the stalemate because this is the third time they've come back to TG and tried to squeeze into Armand's giant bed with him and he just says, "I think I've lost track of who's in a relationship and who isn't." Diagrams are drawn.

Daniel and Armand still get into early morning debates from time to time, much to the annoyance of anyone else who's decided Armand's bed is fair game save perhaps for Louis. It ranges from 'do souls exist' to 'is toby the Scranton strangler'. Louis got sucked into the one about whether Jessica Fletcher is a serial killer and had some very strong opinions on the matter.

Daniel manages to surprise everyone over breakfast by asking if he's dead. Louis informs him that yes, he's a vampire without looking up from his book but Daniel clarifies he means that he means in terms of his mortal identity, he has no idea if he's dead or not. Does he have a grave? Did he have a funeral? There's no way Armand wouldn't know, this is right up his friendly neighbourhood stalker street.

Louis walks in on what can only described as simulated oral sex, apologises and asks if he's left his book in there and retrieves it. He does ask later why two vampires would be interested in doing that, but Daniel says it's psychosomatic, Armand in his mouth, his hand scratching through his hair, it still makes him tremble all over and it works as foreplay before drinking. This leads to Louis trying it, but without the memories of doing it as a source of orgasmic pleasure as a mortal together, it doesn't really have the same effect. It's worth it to see Lestat's response when he asks to try it with him; deer in horny headlights is a good look for him.

Armand develops a deep seated love of the fake monster houses that pop up all over. He even decides to volunteer for one, having a great deal of fun playing a monster for the night in a way that makes some people run and others laugh. "You can take the vampire out of the theatre," Louis says, but he at least approves of raising money for charity. He's trying to move past seeing himself as damned, as a monster, but acknowledges Armand's relationship with being seen as one is far more complicated than his own and wants to support his endeavours.

#louis' relationship with guilt is a love story for the ages so i feel like in trying not to seem like a monster charity feels important #also lestat just about faints when louis brings up the idea of simulating a bj #and wonders what exactly armand has been doing with his lover for this to happen #and should he yelling at him or sending a thank you card #armandblr #the vampire armand #daniel molloy #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #poly pile fluff #armand/daniel #lestat/louis #louis/armand/daniel #vc

[madwheelerz]

Okay, so more on what happened with Will. Will is dressed like Marty McFly in the very first episode right?

Marty traveled to the past and had to get back to the future before he accidentally erased himself from existence, and the upside-down seems to be able to suck out your time at least up until the point where Will got taken, as evident by Eddie's poster.

So Lonnie kills Will in timeline 1 -> Mike tries to reset the timeline but isn't able to fully eradicate the timeline due to him not being powerful enough partially because of age -> Mike ends up damaging his mind and losing the memories of timeline 1 and releasing beings/monsters/locations/plots from his subconscious since the energy release weakened the barrier between his mind and the real world

Hence why Mike just makes things up, and they happen. Lucas suggests that El escaped from a mental facility, the same facility Victor Creel is in later. El happens to be right on time to save Mike at the Quarry, despite her being nowhere in sight prior, and when Flayed! Billy tries to end him the first time.

All those Mike & El parental parallels, but also they've been paralleled to twins and the writers account suggesting that El might be Mike's long lost sister from the upside-down.

I think the Creels are something of a mirror/reflection of the Wheelers, hence all the Creeler parallels. Like the way that Henry views himself and his family may shed light on how Mike views himself and his family.

An attic vs. a basement, the only son, a mother who just knows (all those conversations that Karen has with Mike, like she's trying to feel him out or like she knows something), "that's my friend, Mike", constant stalker shots of Mike, Henry for some reason constantly sparing the Wheelers - both Karen and Nancy, the choice to have Nancy as a messenger.

Alice might be meant to represent both of Mike's sisters as like a shared role (Holly's appearance + Nancy's age).

#manifestation theory #imagine waking up and realizing you forgot some pieces #timeline 0

[someone-named-adel]

Okay okay, listen to me

First of all, this is a somewhat (actually not so much) recent thought, so it has no coherence or anything like that.

Listen, listen (actually it would be read?-)

We already have the Isekai through a video game and a series, but but BUT

How about an Isekai a little bit out of the norm?

Like, it has all the usual stuff, the guys stalking (can it be considered as such?) MC since they is the favorite character of the four and blah blah blah blah.

Nothing changes up to that point

BUT

Let's add something else to the formula.

One day, MC feels weird, but in the sense that everything is weird.

The bed they're woke up in, the color of the walls of the place they woke up in, the decor, even their body feels weird.

THte looks down at their hands, and all they can see are green hands, with only three fingers.

Hands that obviously don't belong to him.

Panicking, they starts to get upset (obviously).

Where am I?

Whose body is this?

Is it my idea or am I taller/shorter than before?

Why are there posters, pictures, figurines and more of me around the room?

Is it inside the room of some stalker obsessed with me?

Questions of that kind start pouring out of their mind in a frantic manner.

MC doesn't know what's going on, they doesn't even know if they are sleeping or not, they doesn't even know if they are dead or alive, they just knows there's something terribly wrong.

Okay to make a long story short, MC accidentally mind-melded with one of the four brothers, and the other three don't know that, but they are a bit suspicious of their "brother" because he's not acting like before.

So, MC feels trapped, they are in an unknown world, in an foreign body, and with people who are strangely attached to them.

Notice how their eyes light up when talking about them, how they look at their video game/series/movie like it's their only reason for living, and how they are so aggressive when someone outside of them mentions something about “MC”.

That, plus the strange obsessive thoughts that come up at times in their mind, which are always in the main character.

So there is this situation where MC is trapped in the body of this turtle brother and is bombarded by his obsessive thoughts daily (at this moment they doubt that it is only them in possession of the body, it is not discarded the possibility that both minds merged or both minds are living together, since it is a fact that MC would never have obsessive thoughts for themselves), adding to the demonstration of the other mutant turtles' own obsession, who start to worry about their brother, since he has stopped interacting so actively in conversations about MC (which is, like, almost the only thing they talk about) and seems more distant, also, why does he flinch when one of them mentions a fact about MC? , Why does he sometimes say that what they say is a lie and states the opposite of what they say?

Why does he seem to know more about MC than they do?

It is clear that their dear brother has something on his mind, and they are anxious to know what is so much on his mind, as they wish their brother would go back to his old self.

Because really, this new version of their brother is starting to bother them....

#possesses #character #if someone doesn't understand #Don't worry #I didn't understand anything when I was writing either #yandere tmnt #yandere teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere mikey #yandere leo #yandere rottmnt #yandere donnie #yandere raph #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #basically MC the body of one of the turtles and discovers the sick obsession that these guys have regarding their #and they know it's screwed if the turtles find out

[clintbartonruinedmylife]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 23

"Stalking"

Clint never wanted to be famous. Sure, he had a reputation as an assassin, but that’s not really the same. But then the Battle of New York happened and Clint became an Avenger and from one moment to the next the whole world knew his name and his face. 

Tony and Pepper dragged him and the rest of the team through all kinds of TV shows and to official receptions and to conventions and, and, and… Clint had no idea anymore where he was after a while, he just tagged along. 

He had to write his name so, so many times, on pictures, on magazines, on posters, on tits and other body parts and had to pose for photos and videos and had to smile and give interviews and, and, and…

Clint didn’t exactly hate it… but he wasn’t the biggest fan. Not at all. 

But then - a year or so after New York - the weird letters started. Someone sent him letters, told him that they loved him, that they wanted to be with him. Clint ignored it. Then the person sent pictures. Pictures of him. Pictures of him in all kinds of situations, of him leaving or entering Stark Tower, of him walking his dog, of him eating pizza, of him with other Avengers… of him on the range, of him in his apartment. 

That’s when Clint eventually talked to Pepper and she said that he had a stalker. Clint laughed. Pepper didn’t laugh. And when the first package arrived Clint also stopped laughing. It was his favorite chocolate. Only Nat knew his favorite chocolate… and apparently the stalker. 

Every few days a new package arrived from then on and Clint got more and more nervous. But when there were traces of someone lying in his bed in Stark Tower. According to Tony no one was supposed to get into this part of the tower aside from the Avengers and people they invited in. 

He talked to JARVIS, he talked to Tony but they both said no one was inside of his apartment. But Clint could <i>see</i> that someone was there. It was obvious to everyone with eyes in their head. 

“You’re overreacting,” Tony said. “No one can enter my tower. Trust me.” 

Clint had glared at him for a long moment before he turned around and left the communal area. He took the elevator to get down to the parking garage, a duffle bag on his shoulder. He would move back to SHIELD base, at least for a while. But just when he wanted to mount his bike something hit him in his neck. Clint reached up and had a tiny arrow in his hand. His eyes went wide when he slid off of his bike and landed on the ground. Someone appeared above him, a woman. He had seen her at one of the receptions but he forgot her name. 

She hunkered down beside him, a sweet smile on her lips. 

“Hello Clint,” she said and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s so nice that you finally came to me.” 

#whumptober2023 #no. 23 #stalking #marvvel #fic #clint barton #hawkeye #avengers

[damagedintellect]

Trafalgar Law x reader

💌 Try not to panic: Chapter 2  💌    

Summary: You were used to the absolute chaos that came with being a Straw Hat but nothing could have prepared you for the battle at Sabaody Archipelago. Not when Bartholomew Kuma could yeet you anywhere at his will. Your blood ran cold as you watched your crew disappear one by one. Frantically searching for any trace left behind to indicate where they’ve gone you didn’t see the paw coming down on you. Waking up in the Heart pirates care was the last place you’d expect to be.  

Tropes: Canon compliant, mutual pinning,  Crew swap (reader is a straw hat & power user)

💌 Word count: 3,824  💌   <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

Being on the Polar Tang was weird. It was such a sausage fest. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just different. You were used to Sanji and Brook's perverted nature but it was interesting to see Shachi and Penguin play smash or pass with random wanted posters of other pirates. It was just a different vibe. You also kind of missed the sun. Ikkaku and Bepo showed you around and you liked having a big bear to cuddle with but finding privacy was one of the harder things to do since everyone was fairly close knit. Apparently personal space was not in their vocabulary, it wasn't in your crews either but to them you were some stray that Bepo brought home. At least it meant that they welcomed you in with open arms. How Law ever handled such a physically affectionate crew was beyond you but at least you wouldn't feel homesick.

You learned later that Law would only ever cuddle with Bepo every once in a while mostly on cold nights and pretty much lived in his study. Which made his actual room up for grabs most of the time. As long as you got the hours right you didn't have to worry about running into him and if he did notice you claiming his room he didn't say anything about it. In the coming few days Bepo said the Tang would dock at an island to restock supplies. Which meant you wouldn't have to continue to steal Laws' clothes. Ikkaku and Bepo tried to lend you some things but they just didn't fit as well as Law’s hoodie. Even if you do get something else to wear you probably are keeping that. You were actually surprised that Law hasn't said anything about it before.

For the most part you would help out when you could but with your dominant arm still out of commission you tried not to bite off more than you could chew. Today was one of the more laid back days and since Law was already in his study you figured you could take a nap before dinner was ready.

You shifted slowly to rub your eyes. You had a weird feeling that stirred you from your slumber. Almost like someone was watching you. Upon sitting up you glanced over to the other side of the room to see Law standing there with a towel on his head as he dried his hair. He was already wearing his usual jeans but he was still shirtless. Your mouth fell open as you cursed under your breath.

Shit

Law finally noticed that you were up and smirked. "First my hoodie now my bed (Y/N)-ya is there something you need to tell me?" Law teased playfully you both had become more comfortable in each other's presence the past few days. It didn't make Law any less intimidating to be around but you learned that he could be less uptight and more casual given the right conditions. Which usually happened when you were alone and no one could prove Law had a softer side. You just hoped he didn't see how pink your face was getting.

"Oh haha," you scowl at him to cover up your blush. "What gives, you don't normally come back to your room until after dinner." You stretched avoiding his gaze opting to make the bed the way you found it. "Hmmmm~ stalker," he chuckled, "You're right, normally I wouldn't but we're docking tomorrow. You should shower too. Presumably you haven't since you got here."

"You practically live in my hoodie." he whispered to himself with a soft smile.

You glanced at your arm then back to him. Tilting your head to the side you ask "Can I?"

"As long as you don't get the stitches wet I don't see why not? I could always cut off your arm for the time being if you're really that concerned." He thought about it for a second watching you awkwardly shift from one leg to the other "Or have you not bathed because you need help?" His eyes are sharp observing you.

That was part of the reason, with the other being the lack of privacy thing. Ikkaku usually woke up at 4am to take her shower while everyone was still sleeping. You couldn't bring yourself to do that. Yes you could always use Law’s shower but with your luck he would walk in and it would be awkward and that is a situation you wouldn't be caught dead in. So you've avoided it. You were hoping that since you guys were docking that you could squeeze one in while you knew everyone would be out and about. Though you still would be down an arm. However you could always mimic Buggy’s power and then it would be no problem that you only had one arm. Actually that sounded like a good idea.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't realize Law was looming over you to get your attention. "I asked you a question, you know." His tone was stern as he dipped down to your ear "Do you need help (Y/N)-ya?" Suddenly he was too close for comfort.

"Mimic" you detached your good arm and pushed him away slightly "I'll be fine but if you can take my other arm that would be great. I can only do one at a time." Law straightened up at the action. He's never seen you use Buggy’s technique before. He didn't say anything, just grabbed Kikoku muttering "room" before finishing the job. He turned around placing your arm on the bed for the time being.

"Towels are on the top shelf. I'll put something else for you to wear on the bed."

You curtly nodded despite him still facing away and disappeared into the bathroom. That was exactly the kind of thing you were trying to avoid. You were finally getting along too. It was so awkward again for no reason now. Well not for no reason, maybe it's because Rayleigh put the idea in your head or rather added to your existing thoughts.

As you remove your clothes you think about Law. He doesn't seem like the type to want a relationship anyhow. Rarely showing any interest in women or men for that matter. With how often he pushes Shachi and Penguin away when they try to pat him on the shoulder or when they try to give him a bro hug you wouldn't put it past him to not like physical contact in general. At this point you wouldn't doubt it if he had a fear of intimacy. Come to think of it, he keeps everyone but Bepo at arms length and even then Bepo is only at elbow length. Then again you've only been here a few weeks and you've been out of consciousness for most of it.

Here you go over analyzing every little thing and categorizing character traits for no good reason because at the end of the day you hardly know the guy. Too bad you couldn't look inside his head to see what he was thinking, but then that would be cheating and where's the fun in that. The bottom line remains the same: when two years pass you probably will never cross paths like this again. Between being rational and having a loose grip on your impulsiveness, your time with the heart pirates is numbered and was never your end goal. That however, doesn't mean these feelings will go away.

—

Law was in a similar boat in his office. Would he have even felt like this if someone didn't make the possibility known to him? Was he just using (Y/N) because it would be convenient. Just a one and done situation over the span of two years. Maybe it's just the fact that she's a stranger with no expectations and for once it's nice not having to hold himself to standards. Standards he set himself but that's beside the point. He has a debt to repay one that he will clear at any cost. One that he doesn’t want to drag anyone he cares about into the crossfire. One that having an attachment to (Y/N) would complicate things because she was a straw hat. The gears were already turning and soon his full plan would set in motion. All he needed was intel and he knew how to get it but patience was everything and he needed to focus. Law hates not being able to control matters he should be able to and it shows.

—

After that it seems like you and Law were back at square one which meant you fit right in with the crew and no one batted an eye. He already had a short temper as it was but every time you entered the room his irritation would spike and honestly you don’t blame him you felt the same but you didn’t wear it on your sleeve like he did but maybe he just had a lot on his mind. When the Polar Tang breached he seemed on edge about the whole thing, mumbling to himself things that needed to be done before they could leave and that he wanted to leave as soon as possible. Ikkaku took you to go clothes shopping and you got a few outfits that were comfortable and functional, nothing too flashy. All the while you had Law’s hoodie draped around your waist. You didn’t feel like giving it back and you doubt you would when you finally left.

You also helped pick out food as that was your favorite thing to do with Sanji. You couldn’t wait to get your arm back to show off everything you learned from your cook. It seemed the heart pirates were all mediocre at cooking and rotated who did it every night. Apparently Law was the worst of them all and his crew vetoed him from ever cooking again years ago. You found this extremely amusing. Sanji always told you that cooking comes from the heart. Even if you follow the recipe exactly it doesn't guarantee it will taste good. For the captain of the heart pirates to be bad at cooking you found it ironic but not surprising that his cooking had no heart.

Although it seemed like it wasn’t really anyone's favorite job to do which would be perfect for you to take over while you’re staying. Nearing the end of the day you were exhausted you almost didn’t have it in you to make it to dinner but Bepo convinced you. You were about to turn in for the night when Penguin told you Law wanted to see you in his office, something about getting your arm out of the sling. Apparently he had picked up a brace for your arm on top of everything he was doing.

It felt good to have your arm out of the sling your elbow has been killing you staying bent all the time. You were excited to be one step closer to getting your arm back. Neither of you said much since there wasn’t much to say. You noticed the stack of wanted posters on his desk while you made your way back to the rest of the crew. You only half heartedly wondered what they were for. The next few days were kind of monotonous; it wasn't until a week later that you were able to start physical therapy.

You were back in Law’s office as he was once again bending your arm until it hurt. It wasn’t as bad as the first time he did it but he repeated the actions twenty times over until your wrist was throbbing.

“I expect you to do these three times a day twenty times each exercise. I’ll know if you don’t” You looked at him wide eyed in disbelief “Are you serious?! My arm hurts so much from just doing it once.” He rolled his eyes at you folding his arms as he laid back in his chair “Do you want your arm to get better or not. I’ll give you painkillers if it’s really that bad. Now go bother someone else. I'm busy.” Law grabbed at the wanted posters and frowned. This time you asked about it. “What are the wanted posters for?” you were rocking back and forth on your feet looking over his shoulder.

“What part of bother someone else don’t you understand?” He glared at you but it had been a while since you pushed his buttons so you pressed the matter further. “I am bothering someone else. I was bothering Doctor Law earlier, now I’m bothering Captain Law.” you smirked. He didn’t find your joke very funny by the way his brows furrowed but he caved in and sighed.

“There’s something I need to do that would be easier if I became a warlord. Once I get a solid lead we’re going pirate hunting.” Now it made sense why he’d been on edge lately and also why Penguin and Shachi were allowed to go bar hopping to the extent that they did. You wondered what he needed to do but you didn’t feel like asking you hummed as he continued “It’s none of your concern for the moment just focus on your arm for the time being. I’m not giving you permission to fight until it’s healed.”

You nodded. If he wouldn’t let you fight on the front lines surely there were other things you could do behind the scenes to help. Rayleigh did say you needed to start training at some point. You left his office thinking about all the things you could do that don’t require your other arm. Your biggest fear was being a burden and even though you don’t belong to this crew you owe them for everything they’ve done for you. There was a spark in your eye now you were going to kick physical therapy’s ass!

—

A few days later and physical therapy was kicking your ass. You’ve seen Law asking for pain meds so much so that you don’t even need to state your business when you enter his office. He's ready to hand you the pills. You’ve been sleeping a lot more because of this and you wonder if Law ever noticed you using his room more than usual. Yesterday you actually slept through dinner and during the hours that Law should have returned to his room but when you woke up there were no signs that he showed up. According to Bepo he hadn’t seen him leave his office but he was also busy redirecting their course for another island that some pirate was going to be at. The only thing breaking up the monotony was when you were helping out in the kitchen but even then it was still physically taxing.

Today you were lazily doing your exercises while laying in Law's bed. You were always super tired afterwards anyways and you decided that today you weren’t going to ask for medication. Or at least you were going to try your best not to ask for any. You needed something to take your mind off the pain. You had been laying down for some time now for some reason sleep never overtook you. Maybe it had been the meds that were making you sleepy all the time. Whatever the case you were bored so you walked about the sub. It seemed like everyone was busy making preparations to get the drop on the first of many victims while also trying to dig up intel on any potential candidates that were in the area. You knew if you tried to help you would just get in the way at this point and you huffed. You couldn’t wait to be healed already.

—

It was about a month or two later that you were finally able to ditch the brace. Your flexibility and mobility were about where it used to be now you just needed to work up your strength and you were good to go. You were in Law’s office again as he shifted his chair to sit across from you. He reached out his hand and you gave him a quizzical look when he stopped halfway.

“(Y/N)-ya I want you to squeeze my hand as hard as you can.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but did as you were asked. His hand was rough and calloused. You tried to crush his hand but he didn’t even flinch. “Okay now the other hand.” You tried with your other hand and even you could feel the difference in your grip strength. Your eyes widened in shock.

“Oh wow.” you marveled at your hand forgetting to let go of Law’s. You didn’t let go until he cleared his throat and you realized what you were doing. You scratched the back of your neck in embarrassment. He handed you a stress ball and you were about to get out of his hair when it dawned on you that you had your arm back.

“Hey Law, what's your favorite food?” He didn’t look up from what he was reading “Why?”

“Well now that I have my arm back I can finally flex what a good cook I am.” you struck a victory pose which he rolled his eyes at. “Onigiri or grilled fish. I’m not too picky as long as it’s not bread.” you tried not to laugh while you made your way to the kitchen just before lunch.

It was the perfect opportunity for you to make him a bento and you're sure whoever was on lunch wouldn't mind the extra hand. Luckily when you got there it was Shachi and Penguin who ended up begging you to help not realizing that's why you came there in the first place. While you were waiting for the fish to cook you decided to ask about the bread thing.

"Has he always hated bread?"

They laughed knowingly "Oh yeah despises the stuff! When we all first set sail he banned it from being let on board. It made easy and fast meals complicated sometimes since bread keeps better than other things."

Penguin prodded at Shachi's shoulder "Remember that one time he nearly threw you overboard because you put a loaf in his arms while he was sleeping?"

"I thought I was going to die! I've never seen him so angry before." You all laughed at the memory. "Any reason why he absolutely detests bread? Did it like, kill his family or something?" You laughed at your own joke but realized you were the only one laughing and you stopped "You gotta be fucken kidding me." They both looked at each other for what to say. You could tell it was delicate and neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you about Law’s past. It was understandable it wasn't their place to say but it only made you want to know more.

The topic was dropped and you continued making lunch for everyone. Once you finished the bento you headed over to Law’s office but he didn't seem to be there. If he was on his way to the mess hall you would have bumped into him. He could be in navigation but you decided to check his room first and sure enough he was there. It seemed like he was taking a nap. He looked so peaceful as he slept he probably needed it too. You smiled, you didn’t want to wake him so you just left the bento on his nightstand and closed the door as quietly as you could.

After that you were always on cooking duty but you didn’t mind, this was what you wanted. Law still wasn’t letting you fight so you needed something to pass the time. He started eating meals with the rest of the crew more often. You wondered what changed but since they had been tracking down targets left and right you didn't question it. He was their captain after all. You hoped your captain and the others were doing okay. You have to admit you were starting to get homesick. You wonder what everyone else has been up to. That night you slept in the cuddle pile with Bepo.

—

"Don’t go easy on me!" You yelled at Bepo as he blocked your ax kick. It had been a sparing day since Law cleared you for combat. However his only condition was that he watched your fighting style before he let you part take in a mission. You grit your teeth and push away from Bepo, distancing yourself from the mink. Law had been reading a book the whole time and it was starting to get on your nerves. He specifically told you not to use your devil fruit powers and you have been struggling to even land a proper hit on Bepo.

“That’s not my call to make (Y/N) besides you haven’t hit me once.” Bepo took a stance before lunging at you. It frustrated you how slow you’ve become from not pushing yourself the past few months. Law casually turned the page in his book before finally putting it down. “I’ve seen enough.” He closed the book to look at you. You were already panting as this had been the most physical activity you’ve had since getting your brace off. “You’re going to start training with Bepo tomorrow. Until you can prove you’re not going to die if you don’t use your fruit in combat.” you huffed and crossed your arms. Recovery is a long painstaking process and you hate every minute of it. Law walked up to you and bent down to meet you eye to eye. “If you can take my hat off of my head I’ll let you come with us.”

This was bait he was baiting you right now but he didn’t move his smirk only grew wider waiting for you to take a chance. You pinched the bridge of your nose, smug bastard, he knew you were impulsive enough to fall for it. Instead of trying to grab at his hat you swatted him away. “Fine! Challenge accepted.” Law ruffled your hair and walked away seemingly satisfied with your frustration. You turned to Bepo and sighed “What’s first.”

Back with the straw hats you were in the middle of the pack. You weren’t the strongest but you also weren’t the weakest but Law was right it was only because you used your devil fruit like a crutch. Luckily for you all minks are trained in martial arts pretty much at birth. Although Bepo threw your earlier comment back in your face saying he wasn’t going to go easy on you. He would be attacking at random from now on with added training early in the morning. You really needed a shower you just hoped that Law went back to his office.

#trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #onepiece x reader #more chapters on ao3

[mrcowboysmovieroom]

Staying Alive (1983)

Directed by: Sylvester Stallone Genre: Romance, drama (horror.. im kidding but really)

CW: SA is mentioned briefly as it pertains to this movie and Saturday Night Fever.

The only thing this movie improves upon it's predecessor, is that it's a much shorter runtime.

Staying Alive attracted me because it looked bad and I was obsessed with how incongruous it feels for Sylvester Stallone to have directed it. The screenshots I was seeing of Travolta scantily clad in torn clothing while arms reach for him were too appealing for me to simply ignore them. In fact, it low-key reminded me of the poster for Barbarella which is a movie I do love the appearance of.

Of course, I couldn't simply watch the sequel to a movie I hadn't seen before, so I first watched Saturday Night Fever from 1977. Saturday Night Fever, faultless it is not, was still a pretty swell watching experience. But it definitely impacted how I was to see the sequel. And how could it not?

When the emotional through-line of the film is class struggles, racism, and especially sexism, then it's hard not to notice how a sequel carries on with those themes.

Staying Alive's solution is largely to ignore these things. Or ignore them in part. There is still some pointing and gesturing at the class disparity between Tony (Travolta) and those around him, especially Laura (Finola Hughes). Sexism is also very much alive and well but, unlike SNF, there isn't really a point to these themes and conflicts being there or a lesson we are meant to learn.

SNF managed to make the character of Tony still a tad likeable despite it all. In Staying Alive I feel none of this goodwill. SNF ended with a promise of change and self awareness. Staying Alive begins with a Tony as problematic as he started. There is something macabre about it to be honest. Between those six years of lost time, Tony spurned Stephanie for good and has now been meandering around Manhattan terrorizing women, jaunting about like a gangly, unsteady gazelle. At times he is borderline terrifying, and you'd expect his character to feel right at home as the dangerous stalker in some horror flick.

Somehow he still has a girlfriend named Jackie (Cynthia Rhodes), whom he decides to cheat on very immediately into this movie. And despite all logic, she still gives him a chance, not only to be her friend but picks up dating him again. And even in the end he cant help himself. He has to kiss Laura without her consent for what? To prove he can? Both women end the movie interested in him, though he decides to commit to Jackie.

On to Laura, she is a pseudo antagonist. She's meant to be annoying and bitchy, but can you really fault her? She has to deal with Tony this whole movie and that is so much to ask of anyone. Her character is so inappropriately handled. Tony expects much from her and ignores all her very DIRECT declarations that she is not at all interested in him in a long term sense at this point. He makes it her fault, and in turn, the movie never sees him serve time for his poor behavior towards her. At times she or someone else will call him out on it, but you never see his character learn from this behavior. After he forces a kiss on Laura, she apologizes to him and he doesn't even bother to say it back himself, which is the LEAST of what he should be doing.

Tony IS the bad guy. He's annoying and rude to her, grabs her and touches her without permission, and is just all around unapologetic for any of it. It feels like he only really stops bothering with her because Jackie's still throwing herself at him, and it gives him a sense of power to see Laura wanting him.

AND THAT'S NOT TO MENTION THE DANCING. SNF almost manages to endear itself to me PURELY for the dancing. Travolta's little disco floor scene (you know the one) is the best part of the movie. In this movie, the dancing is all so meeehhhhh. We spend all this time building up the final Broadway show, and the resulting product was so underwhelming.

If this movie had been about male entitlement and ego, it would have been so perfect, but it's not about that even though it so perfectly depicted it. Feeling like a 2/10 on this one.

#staying alive #staying alive 1983 #80s movie #john travolta #Finola Hughes #Cynthia Rhodes #saturday night fever