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#i had an idea and I wanted to write it
morganbritton132 · 28 days
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I want a fic where Robin is adopted.
The only parents she has ever known are her own and the only time being adopted has ever bothered her was when Amanda St. James made fun of her for it in the third grade. But Robin told her that at least her parents wanted her and were not just stuck with her like Amanda’s parents, “And maybe that’s why your Mom and Dad are so unhappy all the time.”
She got in trouble for making Amanda cry and went back to never thinking about her birthparents. She had no interest in knowing anything about them and it stayed like that until she turned sixteen.
On her sixteenth birthday, her mom gave her a letter written to her by her birthmother. Robin doesn’t read it immediately, but eventually gives in to her own curiosity. She reads it over twice before her mind snags on a sentence, ‘I wanted to give you and your brother a better life…’ … you and your brother…. You and your brother…. You and-
“I have a brother.”
This eats at Robin, especially after her dad’s call to the adoption agency goes nowhere. It eats at her so much that she finally gives in – Fred Benson swears up and down that Nancy Wheeler is the best investigator on the school paper – and asks for help.
Nancy says yes and is maybe a little too invested in finding the truth, but honestly, Robin is having fun and she wants to find her apparent twin. She wants to know about his life. Settle the whole nurture over nature thing.
They hit a lot of walls, a lot of dead ends. They break a few rules and maybe commit a felony. They enlist Jonathan Byers to help and even Eddie Munson at one point because he knows how to pick locks, and it’s all for nothing.
One day when they have everything they’ve found spread out across the Wheeler’s dining room table, Steve comes over to pick up Dustin. He looks down at the whole mess and points at her birth certificate like, “Hey, we were born on the same day.” 
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nibbelraz · 4 months
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A writer and His number one fan hater
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erenthology · 6 months
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Assertive
Rugby boyfriend!Eren x fem!reader
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collage au, possessive but in an infatuated boyfriend type of way. Size differences are mentioned. No matter your size, Eren is bigger than you. (Note: going to be more active now that Aot is ending. Feel free to send requests ♡)
I don’t mind if you’re ignoring me, cuz I’m ignoring you. “ he watches you bounce around the room in your thin, white nightdress. 
You continue looking for your phone, ignoring him. There’s no way you haven’t searched every inch of his dorm room by now, so you finally look at him. He’s laying on the bed shirtless, hands behind his neck, looking at you innocently. That f’ckin bastard.
“Do you have my phone, Eren?”
He flashes his teeth, “ugh, baby, you have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice again. C’mere.” he pats his lap.
You sternly put your hand on top of your hip, arching it to the side, giving Eren the perfect view. “Do you have it or not?” He doesn’t even try to hide his smirk.
”Do I? I'm not sure. You should come over and look,” stretching his arms out in an inviting pose.
Earlier, Eren’s roommate, Floch, made a joke about how he can hear when you and Eren are having sex. When you told Eren, he rushed out of the room and ordered Floch to apologize. Completely scolding him like a dad. You felt embarrassed since you didn’t want his friends to think you can’t take a joke.
You know he’s just going to grab and pull you towards him, so instead, you start walking towards the door. Eren tenses immediately and rushes towards you,
‘’Hey, hey” he grabs your hand. ”where do you think you’re going?’’ he questions with furrowed eyebrows.
‘’To ask if the guys have they’ve seen it?’’ 
His eyes flash red for a second. To have his friends see the outline of your nipples through that thin fabric of your so called pajamas? He looks you up and down, nope, not happening. You should be wearing his t-shirts to bed anyway.
 ‘’Not like that, you’re not,’’ he gives you an ‘’end of discussion’’ look, but you huff and turn anyway. Not that you get far at all, he has you slung over his shoulders before you’ve even fully turned.
The con of having a rugby player as a boyfriend is that he throws you around a lot without so much as breaking a sweat. When you’re mad at him, he has this irritating habit of lifting you off the ground and cuddling you until you’ve cooled down. Claiming it “breaks his heart watching you walk away angry.”
He walks towards the bed, ignoring your fists punching at his back. “You’re such a brat sometimes.” He doesn't mind at all though, Eren has the patience of a saint when it comes to his girl, he enjoys being the one to set you straight.
He carefully lies you down on his bed, positions himself on top and grins, ‘’gotcha,’’ then smacks a kiss on your cheek. ‘’You’re annoying.” you pinch his ear in retaliation.
“Ow, hey, you know you’re stronger than you look.” he scratches his reddened ear. ‘’I'm being deadass, baby, you could go pro in armwrestling or some shit.’’ You burst out laughing over how dramatic he’s being and his eyes lit up from the sound. Your smile always captivates him.
Feeling yourself being stared at, you grin cheekily, unable to hide your smile “weirdo, stop staring,’’ brushing your fingers against his stubble. His eyes follow the movement of your hand and begin tracing the shape of your figure when all of a sudden he starts attacking you in tickles.
You’re both advancing on each other playfully, laughing hysterically. In an attempt to roll out of his reach, Eren quickly reacts by by grabbing your hands and pins them above your head. The laughter is quickly replaced with heavy pants as you stare at him naively, your chest rising up and down.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he lets go of his grip and rests his head on your chest, “you know, it doesn’t matter if you’re mad. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable staying here.’’ he gently admits, then lifts his head,
‘’plus, I’m the only one who has a say about you in bed.” he wiggles his eyebrows.
“Gross,’’ you push his chest, apparently amusing him by the look on his face. ‘‘but it’s fine, really. I just wanted to ignore the situation, but I guess he should learn that not everything needs to be said.’’ At this, he grins and takes ahold of your chin,
‘’that’s a good girl.’’
You ignore the heat rising in your face and smack his hand away when you suddenly remember, ‘’speaking off, where is my phone? You know I need to do my nightly routine check.’’
He knows. It’s the reason he slipped it under his pillow the moment you started throwing a fit. It’s nice having the most predictable girl on the planet. ‘’You can do it later, let a man enjoy his girl for a moment. You can be mad at me after.’’
‘’I'm not mad at you’’ you look genuinely offended, causing him to snicker. “Besides, I kinda liked the whole sexy, scolding dad thing you had going on. It was kinda turning me on,” you admit, looking straight into his eyes.
His hands on your hips stiffen instantly and his whole demeanor changes. “Don’t even joke, [name] I will put a baby in you right this second,” large hands grab your ass and starts grinding your body against his.  
You attempt to leave but he drags you right back, looking at you confused. Looking down, you purr, “I really need to do my routine check,” sticking out your lower lip for extra effect.
You love to rile him up and have him mock you for being greedy and bratty. His face gets closer to yours with his eyebrows all furrowed.
“Did you just pout at me?”
“Nuh uh,” you lie and tease your hand against his belt, Eren’s eyes follow your movements then trace back up to your face, where you’re innocently meeting his eyes.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and looks down at your hand playing against his bulge. ‘’You wanna get fucked?’’ he spits with disgust, or admiration. It’s hard to tell with him.
“Know you enjoy keeping me on edge, acting all innocent when we both know,” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes lingering just a second too long on your lips. Thoughts on ways to tame you running wild in his head.
‘’Telling me it turned you on when I was commanding,’’ he shakes his head as if disappointed.‘’It's good I’m here to keep you in line. A girl like you needs that.’’
You feel the imprint of him on your stomach as his hips press you down on the bed, leaving you no space to leave. You try your best to keep your voice steady. “Just wanna make you happy,’ you breathe out. He almost laughs. 
“You know what would make me happy?‘’ Eren stands and lifts you up with him.
‘’you with my cock in your mouth.” You almost go limp in his arms from how lewd he's being. 
Giving you an expectant look, he nudges your nose with his, “are you waiting for something? get to work.” he guides you down on your knees towards his crotch. The carnal look in his eyes makes you fumble a bit with his belt, but Eren is patient. Sometimes you suspect he enjoys seeing you nervous to perform for him.
Pressing a kiss on the tip, he returns his gratitude by patting your hair in a domineering act, “make me proud.’’ he smiles, in which you relish. Keeping eye contact, you swirl your tongue around his shaft before hollowing your cheeks and start working your way down. You can’t help but gag at his size, no matter how often you blow him. 
It’s been quiet for some time now and you’re growing impatient with the lack of praise. You decide to look up at him through the tears in your eyes and catch him smiling down at you. The scene feels so filthy you can’t help but slyly drag your fingers over your panties to relieve some of the pressure, secretly humping your hips against your hand to the sound of his pants. 
He just nearly cums in your mouth when he notices what you’re up to. Shamelessly playing with yourself, mouth filled with cock, you look straight out of Eren’s nastiest fantasies, it was perfect.
He bends down and pulls your hand out from under your nightdress, “Not yet, need you to be a good girl for me.’’ Then he does the hottest thing all night, he leans down to give it a kiss. You love him. He makes you feel like a princess getting fucked by her knight.
Feeling enthusiastic again, you eagerly reach for him to continue where you left off, but are stopped yet again. Whining, you wait for him any sort of command, just to do something, anything! but he looks so unaffected it’s making you wail even louder.
 “stop whining, you don’t deserve to suck my dick.” Despite the warning, you almost do it again but stop yourself when you notice the glare you’re given. “But I really needa feel you, Eren. It hurts down there.” you were so wet it felt like you were about to explode from the lack of release. 
He's only a man after all, even he has his limits when you wail pathetically about how wet your pussy is. Now he needs to have a look. He pulls you up by your torso, ‘’does sucking me off make you wet?’’ You nod and visibly see his ego lit up.  
A thin sheen of sweat connects your bodies as he effortlessly carries you over to his bed. You take advantage of your flexibility and spread your legs as far apart as you can once he lays you down, earning a groan out of him.
He doesn't hesitate a moment further to push his face in there and peek under your dress. “such a pretty cunt, princess. no idea how often I jerk off thinking about it, about this,” kissing through your soaked panties. Your hips jerk upwards at his erotic words, desperate for friction.
“Eren, please”
He pushes your panties to the side but keeps them on. It’s like he’s so needy for you he can’t be bothered to take off either of your clothes properly, but patient enough to check out every inch of you as if seeing you like this for the first time.
Eren’s broad body consumes your smaller frame as you lie beneath him. You love this feeling, him shielding your body from anyone and anything but himself. 
 His ring covered fingers play softly with your bud, observing your reactions before lining himself against you, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. The sight of Eren being almost abnormally endeavored by your pussy as he spits on his hand and pumps his cock, increases the heat pooling in your abdomen. 
You lie still, enjoying the sensation of him rubbing and tapping himself against you. His eyes are fixated entirely on your cunt and you enjoy every bit of the attention. Not to say you’re not curious about what goes on in his mind when he’s focused and quiet like this. Like your body is art and he is studying and memorizing every part of it.
Once satisfied, he pushes through the tight hindrance and sucks in a breathe, “oh, fuck.” and finally looks up at you. His heart stops a beat when he’s reminded of how beautiful you are. The urge to hide you away from anyone's eyes but his, hits him strong but he bites it back.
Time slows for a moment as you both take each other in through half lidded eyes, and for some reason, your vision has never been as clear. His fingers thread through yours as he leans in for a kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes are still closed. Eren grins and places one last kiss on your forehead before thrusting his way in. 
He’s fucking you with his hips, hard. Hands pressing down your pelvic, holding you still for him to ram into. The strap of your nightdress has slightly fallen down your shoulders, so he pushes the fabric that’s hiding you from him down further, and exposes your breasts. The moan he lets out from the sight is pure filth. 
‘’Touch yourself.’’ he demanded, pupils dilated. With glazed over eyes, you comply and start playing with yourself, twisting and grazing your nipples. The act drives him to lift your hips to reach deeper into you,’’really thought i’d let you walk out of my room looking like this.’’ he grows almost annoyed at the thought. 
Tenderly cupping his cheek, he almost flinches from how lovingly you’re looking at him, “You’re all I want, Eren.’’ and he almost melts. When you say things like that it makes him want to keep you to himself even more, resting his forehead against yours, he looks at you with almost a pained expression. ‘’that’s good, because i'm a selfish man.’’
 With your legs lifted around his waist and upper body sprawled on the bed, you’re essentially at his mercy as he connects your bodies in repeated thrusts. Again, again and again, the sound of him pushing into you echoes in the room. 
He fucks like a deprived man and speaks like a man in love. “Does it feel good, princess?’’ You nod with lovestruck eyes. ‘’Yeah? taking me so well. making me so proud.’’ The pressure feels too intense, about to snap.
He’s stretching you on his cock and looking straight into your eyes as he's doing it. Your body dissolves into pleasure as you writhe beneath him.
Your body starts squirming uncontrollably, causing him to grip your hips ever tighter, overpowering you in strength. You let out a loud sob and rake your nails on his back when your vision suddenly fades to black. He stares at you, astonished.
He raises an eyebrow, “did you just cum?” the thusting has stopped completely now but you felt his dick twitch inside you as he asked. “Tried to hold it in for you,” you stare back apologetically, eyes still sprinkled with lust. Best part is, he knows you didn’t. And you know it too. 
“Turn around,” he orders. You obey and slump towards the bed with your back against him, hiding your face in the pillows. “Don’t act all shy with me now, let’s see your face,” he leaves no room for discussion, so you slowly turn your head and face him. He looks so big staring down at you from your vulnerable position. “That’s a good, good girl.” 
Next thing you know, your cheeks are being spread and played with. Still high on ecstasy from the orgasm you just had, the energy to perform is nonexistent, so he does the job for you.
Huge hands angle your limp body upwards, then press down your back to create a beautiful arch, only for his eyes to admire. He sinks back inside and buries his cock in your warmth.
It’s hard maintaining eye contact with him when he’s like this, it feels so shameless, almost taboo, still, you can’t look away. He’s pounding into you, pulling your hips hard against him.
“This is what you’re making me do, looking at me like that. No one else will ever be able to see you like this,” he occupies his thumb by rubbing it over your clit. The contact is so delicate but rapid nonetheless.
You nod agreeably, barely able to register his words. “Are you close, Eren?’’
“Yeah,” his hands pressed down tightly on your lower abdomen, the scream you let out is almost inhumane. ‘’yes, yes.” you’re grinding back against him in heated motions, shockwaves of heat pumping through your body.
He snaps his pelvic against your ass and feels you sucking him right back in.  He thinks back to what you said before about him as a dad and his eyes roll back. The thought of you carrying his child inside you makes him come undone.
“Ugh, fuck.” He comes audibly high etc, covering you in his cum. You expect him to catch his breath but he smoothly regains his composure and pushes you on your back, his thumb finding its way right back to your clit, barely even getting started before leading you to your second orgasm.
You scream in pleasure as he cups your face, lips brushing against your ear. “That's it, princess, you did so well for daddy. made me so proud.” he praises as he pushes your hair out of your face. 
The lack of response makes him laugh, realizing he’d fucked you to sleep, litterally. chuckling, he grabs a warm cloth and cleans you up to his best effort.
You’re usually sleepy right after sex so this is a regular routine for you both. He smacks a kiss on the top of your head and covers you with his comforter then goes for a shower.
Once he’s done, he carries you up bridal style to the bathroom. “Wake up, sleepy.” he’s back to his sweet self. You grunt in response. “C’mon, you need to pee.’’ It’s true, so you comply and he leaves you to it. 
This is a conversation you’ve both had before, he feels no need to leave when you do your business but you’ve kicked him out enough times so he knows the drill by now. Eren changes the bedsheets while you clean up.
When finished, you walk back to the bed and he opens his arm for you to rest on, your phone lying beside him. You jump at the invitation and he hugs you towards him, ‘’what do you feel like eating?’’ he’s playing with your hair as you lie comfortably on his arm. 
“Not hungry.’’ you murmur.
Eren fights the urge to sigh. “Sorry, not up for debate.’’ He saves himself the trouble and orders for you both, knowing you’ll feel hungry once you see him eat.
When the food arrives, you end up wanting exactly what Eren ordered for himself.
‘’You’re a big baby.’’ he sulks and rolls his eyes, but feeds you nonetheless. You don’t miss the look on his face as you take a bite from his hand. One thing about Eren? he can and will fuck multiple times a day if you let him.
‘’down, boy. i’m not tryna have my guts rearranged after eating food.’’
He grins, ‘’I didn’t say anything’.’ knowing he’ll do exactly that when you’re done eating.
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bluerosefox · 1 year
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CAT Ghost INSTINCTS
Damian comes back to the manor one day with... a new school acquaintance (coughfriendcough) due to the fact they need to work on a school project together and Danny Fenton was the only one in that class that Damian would tolerate to have as a partner.
Everything about the kid seemed normal, heck very normal if a bit shy... or at least that was until the kid suddenly zero focused on a corner of the room and stared at it non blinking. Then after what felt like hours blinked once and returned to normal, chatting away like nothing happened.
....It also doesn't help that Alfred the cat... did the same thing.. at the same time as Danny.
Yeah something is... off about Damian's new friend.
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wasabi-gumdrop · 29 days
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neon glory squad 💖
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aquaquadrant · 2 months
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Philophobia
Word Count: 5,271 Warnings: Shipping, inappropriate/crude humor, paranormal activity, suspense/mild horror, descriptive kissing, mild language Summary: For architecture major and paranormal skeptic Grian, his friends’ after-hours ghost hunting group was just an excuse to spend time with his crush, Scar, without having to actually ask him out. But one fateful night, he finds there just might be things in this world that are scarier than emotional vulnerability… even if only by a very slim margin.
A/N: Did someone ask for a Phasmophobia-inspired Scarian au? Oh yeah, my friend @lunarcrown did! Inspired by the art she made here.
So this is kind of a modern-day college au (not set within the fictional universe of Minecraft), howEVER there are some fantasy aspects in that non-human species (like mob hybrids/monsters) still exist cuz they’re fun and I’m not giving anyone a normal modern name cuz that’s too weird. This is only Phasmophobia-inspired in that GIGS have a ghost-hunting group that functions the same way, but rarely find any conclusive evidence, and don’t have unlimited lives cuz they aren’t playing a game. With that out of the way, hope y’all enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua
~*~
Philophobia
~*~
“I think this is gonna be the one, guys,” Impulse says, turning their van into the driveway.
The suspension creaks as they roll over gravel, rattling the frame in a way that hums through Grian’s hollow bones. His arm is cold where it presses against the window; it’s almost sunset and Impulse has yet to get the van’s heater fixed despite his promises. Stupid demon blood keeping him warm while Grian shivers in the stupid custom pleather jumpsuit that Scar insisted they had made, for their stupid ‘brand’ as a stupid ghost-hunting group. Great, his stupid zipper’s come down again- he stubbornly zips it back up because unlike Scar, he doesn’t like constantly having his bare chest out on display.
Of course, he hasn’t got as much to show off as Scar, who must be getting up at 3 am every morning to work out in order to maintain all that muscle. No wonder Scar prefers to keep his zipper down to his belly button, and doesn’t seem to have ever met a shirt that fits him properly.
… Not that Grian’s ever paid much attention to that sort of thing. 
Grian gives an exasperated sigh. “You’ve been saying that about every case we’ve had for three years!”
“No, no, I really mean it!” Impulse insists. “I feel it in my bones.”
“Yeah,” Scar agrees, leaning forward so his shoulder brushes against Grian’s, “you know Impulse bones good!”
The earnest nature of his statement- and the unexpected physical contact- makes Grian flush. “Scar!” he shrieks, swatting Scar’s shoulder.
“What?” Scar defends. “What, he- he’s got big and strong bones, wonderful bones…”
He acts as if he’s got no idea he said something that could be taken the wrong way. And if it weren’t for the upturned corners of his mouth and the barely-restrained laugh in his voice, Grian might actually believe him.
“Dude,” Skizz chuckles from the front seat, “shut up, that’s awesome.”
Impulse sighs. “Anyway,” he says pointedly, “the place recently had a change in ownership. Previous owner passed away-”
“From murder?” Scar gasps.
Another sigh. “No, from liver failure.”
Grian snorts. “From all the drinking he did to forget about the ghostly hauntings?” he presses, exchanging a cheeky grin with Scar.
“No,” Impulse says, with the patience of a saint, “just normal old-age organ failure. The guy was ancient, and some kinda recluse. House had been in his family since it was built, but uh, he had no living relatives, no will when he died. So the bank took ownership and it’s been sitting off-market for like, fifteen years, til some hot-shot investor thought he could flip it-”
“Ughh,” Grian groans, tipping his head back against the seat. “Investors are the worst-”
“I know, I know,” Impulse soothes, “but um, he’d barely begun when things started happening. Contractors reported it day one, then the owner experienced an event himself and called us. So it’s basically still untouched.”
They haven’t even reached the end of the driveway yet, passing by seemingly endless rows of tall, gnarled pines. Admittedly, Grian’s curiosity is piqued. When he agreed to join this stupid ghost hunting group three years ago, he didn’t do so in the hopes of actually discovering any real paranormal activity. The whole idea is laughable. Ghost hunting is a pseudoscience, at best. Just a bunch of idiots scaring themselves silly in an empty house- and now they’re the idiots! Even their name is stupid: Ghost Investigation Group Services, or GIGS, embroidered on their ill-fitting pleather jumpsuits.
But despite his outright skepticism and dislike for pulling late nights in his already extremely limited free time, Grian’s got one very good reason for agreeing to join.
And his name is Scar.
Grian spent half a semester pining away at the fellow architecture major from across the lecture halls of their many shared classes. Charismatic and easy on the eyes, it was inevitable that Grian would develop a bit of a crush. But as they spent more time together during class projects and conversations in the hallway, he found out just how kind-hearted and passionate Scar was, and how easy he was to talk to, and how strong his arms looked in long-sleeved shirts…
… Yeah, ‘crush’ perhaps isn’t the right word.
So when Impulse- the engineering major who Grian was partnered with for physics lab- got the brilliant idea to start a ghost-hunting group with his best friend and roommate Skizz, and Scar expressed interest in joining, Grian made a split-second decision in a moment of weakness. He maintained his skepticism, claiming that he wanted to tag along just to prove how silly the whole idea was. Impulse was fine with it, while Scar said Grian had to wear the same uniform as them, and the rest was history.
(To be fair, that was before Grian knew it’d be a pleather jumpsuit.)
So here they are now nearly three years later, rumbling down a long gravel road in the dark and cold, up late on a Saturday night even though he still isn’t finished with his condominium model that’s due at 8 am on Monday and he’s fresh out of popsicle sticks. Moments like these almost make Grian wish he could just ask a guy out like a normal person, so they could spend time together without chasing pretend ghosts around dusty houses all night.
But that’d require him to talk about his feelings. Ugh, he’d rather let the ghosts get him.
“Alright.” Impulse slows the van to a halt. The doors unlock with a heavy clunk. “What do you guys think?”
Grian isn’t expecting much when he glances out the window. But the sight that greets him immediately prompts a hasty exit from the vehicle, scarcely noticing the sudden chill, his jaw dropping open in awe.
It’s a Victorian. Not a house that someone has mistakenly called ‘Victorian’ just because it looks old. A genuine, honest-to-goodness, Queen Anne’s style two-story Victorian manor with an asymmetrical facade and a rounded corner tower and a generous wrap-around porch, silhouetted against the fading light of the evening sky.
Grian reaches for his flashlight. Sweeping over the exterior, his breath catches. Knots of ivy creep up the walls, and there are a few places where the intricate wood trim has been lost to previous repairs and weather damage. A couple of the windows are bricked up. Most of the paint is faded and peeling. But overall? It’s beautiful.
“Oh man,” Grian murmurs, pushing his glasses back up, “look at the shape of it... look at the dormers!”
A second beam of light joins in; Scar’s emerged from the van. “Lots of character,” he says, sounding similarly entranced. “And still in great condition! Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s enough to make a man cry.”
Impulse hops out of the driver’s seat, chuckling. “I knew you two would like it. It’s an ‘85.”
Grian gives an appreciative whistle. “Look, I still don’t think we’re gonna find anythin’,” he says with a sideways look at Scar, “but I gotta tell ya… if- if I were a ghost… I think I’d haunt a proper house like this. Not those builder-grade boxes in the suburbs.”
“Right?” Impulse says, his forked tail flicking through the air. “That’s what I’m sayin’... I uh, I think this place has real potential.”
Skizz, who’s come around the van to stand with them, nods thoughtfully. “Definitely somethin’ special ‘bout it, that’s for true,” he says, exchanging a look with Impulse. Then he claps his hands together. “Alright gentlemen, let’s get movin’!”
Impulse and Skizz turn towards the van, heading to open the back.
Grian stares after them, squinting suspiciously. That wasn’t just any look. That was a Look. A Look that he knows all too well. They had that same Look on their faces at last year’s frat mixer, when they rigged the speakers at the Heta Kappa house to play ‘Margaritaville’ every time someone flushed a toilet.
It means that they’re Up To Something.
… Grian’s sure he’ll find out sooner or later.
“Well, Grian,” Scar says, hands on his hips as he surveys the property, “if it’s any connotation, at least we’ll get to study some real architecture tonight.”
Grian gives him a bemused look. “Consolation?”
Scar blinks. “Cono- what, what’d I say? Con- coronation?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, ey,” Grian chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
~*~
“Check it out, dude,” Skizz calls excitedly, “temp’s dropping in here! Five degrees colder than the rest of the house!”
Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s an east-facing room and the sun’s only just set, of course it’s colder than the rest of the house,” he says, idly passing his UV glow stick over an armchair. No prints, of course. “I doubt they’ve updated the insulation anytime within the last two decades.”
“And hey, look,” Impulse chimes in from the corner, “I’ve got EMF 1.3!”
Grian doesn’t even look up. “There’s an exposed outlet in here and I’ll bet the wiring’s older than I am. And in any case, it’s still below the recommended threshold.” Ew, okay, now that’s a suspicious UV stain on the floor, but not of the supernatural kind…
“Oh, it’s definitely not up to code,” Impulse agrees. He waves his EMF reader around a bit, making the pitch warble. “But I dunno, I think this must be the ghost’s favorite room. Might not be here right now, but I’m getting some real vibes…”
Grian rolls his eyes. “Sure…” 
Twenty minutes in, and despite the house’s hauntingly elegant construction, it’s been the same old story. The house is empty and quiet, as abandoned houses tend to be. Quite sparse, as most of the furnishings probably went to auction. The furniture that’s left is covered with tarps and every surface is coated with a fine layer of dust. He can smell mold somewhere in the floorboards and there’s apparent water damage in the ceiling.
The only renovation attempted thus far was the removal of some cheap linoleum tiles that were laid in the kitchen at some point- a renovation Grian can heartily agree with, there’s some absolutely gorgeous hardwood underneath- but they didn’t get far. The removed tiles are still sitting about in a haphazard pile, hammer and chisel abandoned on the floor beside them. Frantic footsteps smeared in the dust and powder paint the scene of a terrified contractor fleeing for their life from the reported ‘ghostly hauntings’. 
In any case, they haven’t heard any activity from the spirit box, nothing unusual has stood out on UV, and the salt Impulse laid out is still undisturbed. Surprise, surprise. Grian’s spent most of his time admiring the elaborate wooden trims lining every wall, scuffed as they are. What he wouldn’t give to properly restore this place…
“Hey, Dipple Dop?” Skizz calls suddenly. “Your radio working okay?”
Impulse gives him a curious look. “Huh? What, is there-” He pauses, glancing down at his radio. “Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, actually, mine’s on the fritz, must be overdue a battery change.”
“Oh?” Grian tilts his head innocently. “You don’t think it’s a ghoooost?”
Impulse purses his lips. “I don’t think everything is a ghost,” he says mildly. He clips the radio onto his belt, turning to the door. “I’ve got extras in the van, hang on…”
“I’ll go, too,” Skizz says quickly, slinging an arm and his wing around Impulse’s shoulders. “Buddy system! You know what, I- I’m tellin’ you, you never split up when hunting ghosts. That’s how they get you, dude.”
Oh. Oh, no.
Grian gives them a warning Look.
They give him a cheeky Look back.
“Yup, yeah, that’s true,” Impulse says with obvious feigned sincerity, steering Skizz out of the room. “So uh, you two keep at it, okay, and we’ll be right back…”
“Oh, okay!” Scar says cheerfully, busy setting up the tripod over in the corner and completely oblivious to their scheme. “Have a great time not getting murdered!”
Grian opens his mouth to protest, but Impulse and Skizz are already gone out the front door. Leaving him and Scar completely alone. Totally by coincidence, surely. Oh, he knew his drunken confession to Impulse at the school’s annual bar crawl fundraiser night would come back to bite him eventually.
It’s almost insulting, in a way. Like they think the only reason Grian hasn’t made a move is because he hasn’t had ample alone time with Scar. Like he needed them to give him an opportunity. But if he’d wanted to confess to Scar, he already would have. He’d have had it well done by now. They could give him a little credit.
See, the thing is, he’s thought about it. Plenty of times, in fact. But the issue he keeps coming back to is that if he tells Scar about his crush on him, then Scar will know about it. There’ll be no going back at that point. And if Scar doesn’t feel the same way- well, Grian can kiss their friendship goodbye. So yeah, no, he doesn’t think he’ll be making any dramatic love confessions tonight, strangely enough.
The risk of an awkward silence developing is astronomical, so Grian clears his throat. “Man… isn’t this place somethin’,” he says, then immediately fights the urge to cringe.
Scar, luckily, gives an emphatic nod. “It is, it truly is amazing.” He straightens up, dusting his hands off as he turns to Grian. “You know who’d really love this place, is Gem?”
“Oh, yeah, for sure,” Grian agrees. He busies himself with the UV, so he’s not just standing around. “We should take some pictures for her.”
“Oh, good idea!” Giving the tripod a final once-over, Scar wanders over to Grian. “So, any fingering goin’ on, yet?”
Grian nearly drops his glow stick. “Sorry- any what?!” he screeches, whirling around on Scar.
“You know, ghost fingers!” Scar says, perfectly innocent. He holds his hands up, wiggling his fingers in demonstration. “On the- on the glowy light?”
Grian takes a deep breath, face burning. “Oh Scar, buddy, you gotta think through your words better before you say them, alright?”
“Whaaat?” Scar pretends like he doesn’t know. “What, I’m just- you’ve got the stick, you know, little glow stick for when the ghost touches, uh-”
“Nevermind,” Grian groans. “Anyways, no, I haven’t found any ghostly handprints and I never will, because ghosts aren’t real.”
Scar folds his arms. “Well, hey, maybe the ghost is just polite! You know, he- maybe he’s just minding his business, not touching anything or- or anyone. Just because we don’t get anything on UV doesn’t mean ghosts aren’t real, I’ll have you know.”
Grian sees the challenge for what it is. “Alright…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his spirit box. Holding the transponder to his lips, he belts out, “Where ahhre yewww?” in his best imitation of an over-exaggerated pop-punk accent. If Impulse and Skizz are eavesdropping through their radios, he hopes he gave them a start.
Scar laughs. “Oh man, been a while since I heard that one! You-”
I’m close.
Grian jumps so badly he nearly drops the box, his wings puffing out involuntarily. “What?! Wha- who said that?” he demands, spinning around.
Scar blinks at him. “What? Did you hear something through the box?”
“I- I dunno?” Grian says uncertainly. The box seems to be working as normal; when he holds the receiver down, there’s a faint hiss of static, and the bulb remains white. No further noises come from the speaker.
After a couple seconds of tense listening, Grian feels silly. Way to play it cool. He switches the box off with an exasperated sigh. “No, of course I didn’t hear anything through the box. Like I said, ghosts aren’t real.”
Scar hums noncommittally. “Oh, Grian... you know, there are some things in the world that can’t be explained.” 
Grian snorts. “Oh, yeah? Well, I- I got a few explanations for ya.” He counts on his fingers. “It could’ve been this old house creaking in the wind, or an electrical surge causing feedback through the transponder, or- or, not to mention, Impulse and Skizz pranking us through the radio?”
Scar snickers. “That does sound like something they’d do, I’ll give you that.”
“Yeah.” Grian slips the box back into his pocket. “And y’know, being in a creepy abandoned house, after dark, out in the middle’a nowhere... it’s easy to think you’re hearin’ things.”
Scar rolls his eyes, but his expression is fond. “I know, I know, so you’ve told me. But one of these days, mister, you’re gonna eat your words.”
“Right,” Grian drawls. “I’m so scared…”
The front door slams shut.
That makes Grian pause. They always leave the front door open while out on a job. It saves time when they have to go back and forth from the van, and saves battery life on their radios when they can just shout to each other through the open doorway. Obviously this job is a little different, because Impulse and Skizz have clearly got it in their heads to try and get him and Scar together, but he wouldn’t think they’d go so far as to-
The lights suddenly flicker and go out. But in the split-second before they do, Grian sees a shadowy figure silhouetted against the door.
Pure instinct takes over. Grian spins on his heel, grabs Scar by the arm, and absolutely flies down the stairs to the basement. He knows they’ve disturbed one or two piles of salt but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. His wings are bumping against the walls and he’s certainly never tried carrying someone as big as Scar before but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even process the ache of it rattling through his body. He bursts into the basement, feathers flying, and careens towards the back of the room, around a tall shelving unit, and into the corner.
There’s a heap of boxes stacked up in this corner; Grian unceremoniously shoves Scar over top of them, dropping him in the narrow space between the boxes and the wall. He’s wedged in as far as he can himself, laying across the boxes, his double pair of wings preventing him from squeezing in beside Scar. He’s still got the UV light clenched in his fist, he realizes belatedly- he braces his forearms against the wall to try and cover it, fanning his wings out behind him to block it out from the rest of the room. Glancing back over his shoulder, he tries to gauge how much light is getting through when a noise makes him freeze.
Footsteps.
They’re soft and light- certainly not the heavy boots of Impulse or Skizz. No, they sound almost barefoot. And as they gently tap down the stairs, the sound of giggling fills the air. It’s a feminine voice. Young, like a child. Like a little ghostie girl is prancing down the stairs to murder them.
Grian thinks he might pass out. Can ghosts actually kill people? How would they do it if they’re incorporeal? He’s never considered the question before, he never thought he’d have to because it’s ridiculous, ghosts aren’t real, of course they can’t kill people-
The footsteps stop. 
Grian isn’t sure if he’s still breathing. He doesn’t dare move. A chill runs up his spine, making every single feather stand on end. He can almost hear the high-pitched violins that would be playing right now if this were a horror movie; the cheesy, overdrawn kind of horror movies that are always playing at the drive-in that the four of them watch while piled into the back of the van in a tangle of limbs and spilled popcorn and oh god he’s spiraling now because he’s about to be killed by a ghost-
Bye-bye!
The chill recedes. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he sees the faint glow of light from upstairs return.
It’s over.
Grian’s mind is spinning. What was that? What was that? It seems impossible, it doesn’t even feel real to be in this situation right now but he is, there was a ghost, there was a ghost. It feels insane to even think it. But the residual adrenaline coursing through his body reminds him it was very real, he just encountered a ghost.
A ghost! Oh, after three years of very loudly decrying the entire concept as rubbish. He can’t believe it. He really can’t believe it, this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen tonight. Ghosts are real. Ghosts are really, really, real. He doesn’t know what to do, who would ever believe him? Is this how the others have been feeling this whole time? God, he can’t believe this-
“G...?” Scar’s voice pipes up hesitantly. “What... what are we doing?”
Oh, right. Grian glances down at Scar- and his heart jolts. He’d been so focused on getting away from the ghost, he’d acted without thinking, so only now does he realize the... predicament he’s put them in.
Scar’s slumped against the floor beneath him, head tucked just below Grian’s arms. His long legs are still draped over the box that Grian’s laying across, resting on either side of his waist. And due to the odd posture Grian’s in, his chest has been thrust rather close to Scar’s face, lit by the soft purple glow of the UV.
This is probably the closest Grian has ever been to sitting in Scar’s lap.
Grian’s not proud of the yelp that escapes him. “Sorry, sorry!” His wings flail as he struggles to push himself off of the wall, stumbling back onto his feet. It’s clumsy and uncoordinated and he nearly falls backwards, his heart pounding.
Scar manages a laugh, easing himself up off the floor. “No, no, it’s okay, I- I just... what- why’d you bring us down here?” he asks, dusting off his jumpsuit.
Grian catches his breath. “Wait, you... didn’t hear the creepy ghost on its way to kill us?” he asks, frowning.
Scar‘s eyes widen. “What? There was a ghost?”
No way.
“Are you-!” Grian throws his arms up. “Honestly, I- I know avians have better hearing than most but that’s insane. She was laughing! Laughing and skipping down the blumin’ steps! And you didn’t hear any of it?”
“No…?” Scar shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry, okay! I- I don’t know, I was- a lot was happening, you- you’re grabbin’ me, pulling me down the stairs and into this little corner, I didn’t know what was going on! I didn’t know, I- I was all disconbodulated- disco- bobo, bobumated? I was a little distracted, okay. Jeeze, give a man a break…”
“Distracted?” Grian repeats incredulously. “You’re the one who actually believes in ghosts, here, how could you get distracted? What do you…”
He trails off. Scar is very clearly fighting to avoid looking at Grian, but for the briefest moment, his eyes dart down to Grian’s chest. Suddenly confused, Grian follows his gaze, and-
Oh, for goodness sakes. At some point during his frantic flight, the stupid zipper on his stupid jumpsuit came down again, exposing a frankly scandalous amount of skin. Not Scar-level of scandalous, but pretty close.
Grian immediately feels himself turn red. “Oh. Uh- right,” he hastily pulls the zipper back up, “sorry ‘bout that…”
Wait. Wait just a second. 
Scar was distracted from a literal ghost hunt going on... because Grian’s bare chest was showing? Does that... does that mean he liked it? 
Scar’s avoiding his gaze again. His cheeks are tinted pink.
“Scar...?” Grian ventures carefully. “Were you... lookin’ at my chest?”
Scar’s cheeks darken. “Ah, I- I- don’t- I mean, why would you- I didn’t mean to, it’s just...” He fumbles for the words. “What- what am I- hey, your pecs were basically in my face! I wasn’t trying to look, I- I just-”
“Scar,” Grian says, keeping his voice light and teasing, “did ya… did you like what you saw?”
Scar splutters for a moment. “Well, sure, Grian,” he tries to laugh it off, “I mean, anyone- anyone with eyes can see you’re uh, you know, you’re- you’re pretty attractive. I- I’m secure enough to say it, I don’t care, it’s- sure, of course, you’re very muscular! You’re a- you’re a muscular man, it’s just not always obvious with the sweaters you wear. Or- sorry, you call them jumpers in Britain land, right, they’re jumpers-”
“You been checkin’ me out, Scar?” Grian asks, caught somewhere between playfulness and utter disbelief.
“Uh...” Scar rubs the back of his neck. He exhales slowly, clearly debating with himself. “I... maybe? What... what would you say... if that were the case?”
Grian swallows. His heart is absolutely racing now, and he’s broken into a cold sweat that’s definitely not supernatural in origin. The air between them feels fragile; he’s acutely aware that a single word from him could swiftly plunge them back into the realm of safe familiarity, of casual light-hearted teasing between friends. Scar’s always said things that bordered on the flirtatious, and Grian can hide behind the plausible deniability of teasing. This entire interaction doesn’t have to mean anything. It can be easily moved past and forgotten.
And yet, strangely enough… Grian doesn’t want it to. Maybe it’s the post-haunting adrenaline or the fact that he could’ve died tonight, but all of a sudden, he feels like taking a chance. Like he could finally say what he’s wanted to say for the last three years. He managed to hold his own against a blumin’ ghost, for goodness sakes- he should be able to face his own feelings head on.
He takes a breath. “I’d say that’s a relief… ‘cause I’ve been checkin’ you out since day one of first year.”
Scar stares at him for a long moment. His expression is utterly unreadable. The silence draws on long enough that Grian feels a spike of panic, worried that maybe he’s mishandled the situation-
 “... oh my god,” Scar says finally. “Really?”
It sounds like the good kind of surprise. Grian offers a shy smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he admits. “I- Scar, I know I’m real good at playin’ these things close to the vest, but uh, I- I’ve had a massive crush on you since... basically since the day we met.”
“Huh.” Scar blinks. “You’re serious. You- you’re not pranking me right now?”
That startles a laugh out of Grian. “No! Scar, I don’t- we just survived being hunted by a ghost, I’m not pranking you!”
“Well, that’s- that’s amazing!” A grin spreads across Scar’s face- and man, oh man, does he have just the most wonderful smile. “Oh my gosh, G, I don’t- you don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
The relief is almost overwhelming. “Yeah, me too!” Grian laughs, half-dazed and half-giddy, running a hand through his hair. “I- I even- look, the whole reason I even joined this group was as an excuse to hang out with you!”
Scar’s mouth falls open. “No way! That’s- that’s the whole reason I joined in the first place, too!”
Now it’s Grian’s turn to gawk. “Are you joking?”
“I’m not!” Scar insists, “I swear, I’m not- Impulse said he wanted to start the group and maybe we’d all join and get to hang out and I thought ‘hey, ghosts are cool and Grian is cool’ so I just-”
“Oh, I can’t believe this…” Grian groans, hiding his burning face in his hands. “We really are idiots, we’ve wasted nearly three years…”
Scar’s hands close around Grian’s wrists, lightly pulling them down from his face. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time,” he says smoothly, leaning in.
Corny, but Grian will allow it. He closes the gap, tilting his head up to meet Scar’s lips.
In that moment, everything else fades away. All the nervousness, all the second-guessing, even the bombshell discovery of the existence of ghosts- there could be one standing in front of them right now and Grian wouldn’t care. The way Scar gathers Grian in his arms, hands gently roving through his feathers- it’s bliss. It’s perfect.
Scar kisses him strong and purposefully, with no trace of carelessness or haste. He doesn’t rush. There’s intent written into every single movement, jaw working to deepen the kiss. Grian curls against him, hands splayed across Scar’s chest. He can feel Scar’s heart pounding through his flushed skin, and it’s wildly exciting- to think Scar is just as breathless as he is. 
Growing bold, Grian dares to slip his tongue into Scar’s mouth, and the noise he makes- part surprise, part delight- sends pure electricity fizzling up his spine. His mind is starting to drift away from him, lost in the sensation of weightlessness, of floating, that almost makes him feel like he’s gone completely incorporeal- like his own spirit has become untethered from the mortal coil.
Then Skizz’s voice comes down the stairs.
“G-Sharp! Scarface! You down here? We just saw a freaking ghost on the cams, and- oh my god!”
Grian breaks away from Scar, but not quick enough. He turns to see Skizz and Impulse standing at the bottom of the stairs, expressions shocked. And then, as if they’d rehearsed it, they both break into massive shit-eating grins and spin around to high-five each other.
“Woo!” Impulse cheers. “We got ‘em! Ladies and gentlemen, we finally got them.”
“Yeah, baby!” Skizz pumps his fist in the air. “Oh, I love it!”
“Oh, would you two stop it?” Grian huffs, but he’s not really cross. Hard to be cross when he’s on cloud nine. “The ghost did most of the work, alright?”
“That’s right,” Scar sniffs, winding an arm around Grian’s waist. “You know, I- I’m startin’ to think you all were in cahoots! Cahoots, I say!”
“Dude, if only,” Skizz laughs, walking over to clap them on the shoulders. “Could not have planned it better, that’s amazing. Well done, gentlemen!”
“Yeah, it’s about time!” Impulse adds, crossing his arms. “I was starting to think we’d graduate before either of you fessed up, I- I had to take drastic measures…”
“Impulse,” Grian says warningly, “if you’re about to tell me you started this whole paranormal investigation group just as a way to push me and Scar into confronting our feelings, I swear-”
“No, no,” Impulse assures him, chuckling. “I really do like the ghost-hunting deal, don’t worry. But uh, we did deliberately ditch you guys in the hopes that something would happen.”
Scar waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, things happened, alright.”
“Scar!” Grian swats at him, but he’s laughing and it feels good. It feels right. After all this time spent worrying about worst-case scenarios, about denying his feelings for the sake of maintaining the comfortable mundanity of his comfortable life, it turns out the scariest part was the fear itself.
The irony doesn’t escape his notice. A bit on the nose, if he’s honest.
“But in even bigger news,” Impulse graciously continues, “you saw the ghost? And you believed it? You, Mr. Non-Believer in all things ghostly?”
Grian sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know…”
“This is incredible!” Skizz claps his hands together. “Okay, okay, we gotta go cleanse the area and I wanna hear everything, got it? Don’t leave a single detail out!”
Grian slips his hand into Scar’s as they follow Impulse and Skizz back up the stairs. “Yeah, alright,” he relents. He supposes he’s due for a lot of ‘I told you so’s’. But really, it’s a small price to pay for the life-altering knowledge that ghosts are real… and for finally finding the courage to believe in something extraordinary.
Scar hums. “Wait, details about the ghost or about the kissing?”
“Scar!”
~*~
426 notes · View notes
wandixx · 4 months
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one-shot snippet
Duke was running out of fumes to run on. The last few days would be exhausting if it was just vigilante or just civilian stuff but no, he had to have it both. Because of Arkham break out, he had been called in three nights in a row, not for a whole patrol but he couldn't exactly sleep it off during the day like others did, especially not in a week when every teacher decided they needed to have test or quiz or what not. Naps meant he wasn't as sleep-deprived as he could be but he needed far more. But he couldn't because crime in Gotham never sleeps so he had normal patrol to finish and there were about two hours left.
Would something bad happen if he just stopped for a moment and laid on a roof? Ten up to fifteen minutes. It was a slow day too…
Yeah, no, he deserved a moment to rest and if something disastrous was to happen in the meantime he would shame other Bats for not giving him enough time to sleep.
It certainly said something that he found gravel covering this roof to be quite comfortable. He set a timer for ten minutes and let himself close his eyes.
When the loud screech of the timer jolted him awake, he was suddenly fully aware that he wasn't alone anymore. He sat up a little too quickly.
"Oh, you're awake" white white-haired girl around Damian's age chimed, sitting cross-legged just a few feet away from him. She wore something that could only be described as a lab safety hazmat suit, white and black with popping green accents. When had Gotham gotten a new vigilante/villain/whoever the girl was? "Good, I just returned from a snack hunt," she added, gesturing at a big textile bag lying next to her. Duke didn't have enough brainpower to do anything more than ask.
"What?"
The girl shrugged, take-out from BatBurger in her hand.
"You look like you have a bad day if not a few days, so I've got you my cousin's bad day combo or at least the closest thing I could. BatBurger burger isn't as good as NastyBurger but you certainly have better fries" As she spoke, a second take-out bag, 1 liter bottle of energy drink, juice bottle of the same size, and pack of convenience store brownies joined greasy paper bag sealed with a sticker.
"Is your cousin a speedster?" Excuse Duke, it was a totally valid question, he saw with his bare eyes both Wally West and Bart Allen when they visited Manor. No one else would be able to stomach the amount of food they inhaled during their stays.
"Nah, we're not that fast or that hungry. Though I think I may get closer to the speed of sound." So, clearly, a meta if white hair and weir aura that let his eyes rest weren't enough indication "My cousin when he has a bad few days often forgets to eat so this combo has to help with there too. But I'll steal your fries of course."
Duke was not going to look a gift horse in the teeth, so he grabbed one bag and tore it open. There was a classic combo with bigger fries and NightWings inside.
"Thank you…" he trailed off, hoping that the girl would take a clue and introduce herself but she didn't. She just drowned her fries in ketchup and started munching. She had her own juice.
"My cousin always said that each part of this combo has a different purpose." she explained instead, slightly muffled because of the fries in her mouth "This" she gestured towards the fast food meal "is to soothe your stomach. This "she tapped energy drink "is to soothe your brain and kick it back online. This "she raised a bottle of juice "is to soothe your taste buds because energy drinks are war crime against them and this "she nudged brownies "is to soothe your heart because Ancients damn it, this day is awful and you deserve it. At least that's what he told me when I had day bad enough to deserve that" she shrugged, licking ketchup of her finger. Suddenly she froze "You aren't allergic, are you?
"No, I'm not" he confessed bewildered.
"Good"
For a long moment, they sat in silence, devouring food the little girl brought. Duke distantly wondered if this was how the night shift spent their snack breaks. It felt nice.
He was finishing his part of the brownies when the girl spoke up again.
"Do you feel better now?"
"Yeah," he was a little surprised to realize that t it was true. He'll have to note down what she put in this 'bad day combo'. "Thank you"
"Don't mention it." she shrugged with a general gesture of dismissal "You're one of my cousin's favorite heroes because you're vaguely his age and handle Gotham alone during the day and I quote "She did honest or God air quotes at that" 'As only hero in Amity-' which is a lie by the way, Val is doing great and even if he suddenly got problem with how she feels about his alter ego, he still has Sam and Tuck even if they're usually more of moral support. And I helped when I visited, so no, he isn't the only one. Anyway as he said 'As the only hero in Amity, my heart goes out for anyone who deals with this type of bullshit so Dani if you absolutely have to prank heroes, leave them out of it, especially Signal, he can't be older than Jazz, he doesn't need any more mess to handle.' All aliens and lanterns are also off-limits because he is a space nerd. But you aren't space-related so I'm like 80% percent sure he has a celebrity crush on you" She slurped more juice, unbothered.
Duke was thankful he wasn't swallowing anything because for sure she would choke. He took a split second to consider addressing… this whole situation and choose against it. He was not ready to be anyone's celebrity crush.
"Your name is Danny?" he asked instead.
"Dani" she corrected" with an I"
"Ok. It's nice to meet you Dani-with-an-I" She giggled, nodding her head slightly.
"It's nice to meet you too Signal"
Duke stood up, stretching a little. Dani joined him after hastily putting all the trash in her bag. She was a little higher than expected.
"I have to get back to my patrol"
"Cool," she drifted back a bit, making him realize that she was floating a few inches above the ground. She fixed her bag on her arm.
"Hey, can I hang out a little bit more? My cousin will go green out of jealousy when I tell him" she added with a mischievous smirk but Duke could tell there was more to it. He took a moment to consider it, which apparently made the girl nervous "I can be invisible the whole time, like before." she offered, disappearing in the meantime. He could still tell where she was, because of her heat signature, and aura but for regular people, she would be no different than the surrounding air.
"Yeah, you can hang around and you don't have to be invisible. Just don't get in my way when I have to actually do some fighting."
She popped back to the visible spectrum and pouted like Damian whenever he got benched.
" I can fight, y'know? I stopped mugging on a snack run."
It was ten goddamn minutes, how could she get so much food and stop a mugging in such a short time?!
Oh, right, superspeed. Still, impressive.
"I haven't seen it" he started, channeling all Dick-trying-to-wrangle-Damian-into-socially-acceptable-activity' energy he could muster "So I don't know how you fight or even what powers you have. If we tried to fight together we would trip over each other" It was a bare-faced lie, Bat Training made sure of that but he knew for a fact that if he said anything else, the girl would be mad and probably did her own thing.
Was that what Bruce thought about all of them?
Oh no.
Dani still looked displeased but after a moment of consideration, she nodded with a defeated sigh.
Suddenly she straightened like she got struck by lightning and whipped around.
"Wha-"
She just shushed raising her finger to her mouth. Duke did indeed quieten.
"I have enhanced hearing" she whispered "There is a mugging somewhere this way."
"Let's go then" he shot his grapple, waving his other hand at Dani to come with him before he jumped off the roof. He heard the girl giggle as she flew right after him.
" After this, you'll show me the coolest gargoyles, okay? Sam asked for photos"
"Okay"
It seemed that the end of this patrol wouldn't be as bad as the start was. Hopefully.
And afterward, he was going to lock himself in his room until the sky fell or he was well rested.
Yeah, that was a good plan.
*******
how do you like it?
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forlix · 8 months
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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・908 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・hyunjin x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・domestic fluff, established relationship, being hopelessly whipped for one another hehe
Hwang Hyunjin is no stranger to compliments.
How couldn’t he be, when his grip on every stadium is one of titanium, when he looks and sounds like a figment of a sweet dream, when he is all that he is? And he loves the flattery. He’ll bow graciously and utter his thanks, his head lowered just far enough to conceal the smirk on his lips that says: oh, I know.
But it’s different with you. Maybe it’s because he’s clung to everything you’ve said to him since the day you met, curating a mental archive of the greatest love he'll ever know. Maybe it’s because he feels the urge to smile just looking at your face. Maybe he's that much of an enamored idiot that your praise makes him feel like he’s touching the sky.
Whatever the reason, your compliments destroy him, and tonight is no exception.
Hyunjin’s head is hovering over the sink, headband holding back his hair, hands slathering cleanser over his skin, when his phone goes off. It’s unusual for him to receive emails so late, and he rinses and dries himself with a touch of irritation. Surely it can wait until tomorrow. But the annoyance subsides when Hyunjin starts to read: photos came out early . . . congratulations again . . . will be in touch with next steps.
Behind him, the bathroom door opens, and in walks a figure with tired eyes and a matching headband over their hairline. Hyunjin feels arms circle around his waist and a familiar warmth press up against his back. “I ran out of face soap,” you mumble.
Without looking up from his screen, Hyunjin picks up his cleanser and holds it by his hip, so that you only need extend your fingers to snatch it away. You place a kiss on his cheek as a quick way of thanks, bringing a small, helpless smile to his face.
The next few minutes are spent in silence, save for the sounds of your washing. It isn’t until you glance in the mirror and see your boyfriend’s fascination with his phone that you notice something’s up.
“What’re you looking at?” You hum, curious.
Hyunjin’s reply is casual. Too casual. “The photos from the Versace shoot came out early.”
At this, you whip around to look at him. Your face is illuminated with a smile that stretches from ear to ear, the fatigue in your eyes replaced with pure anticipation. A mysterious warmth begins to spread through Hyunjin, starting in his chest and traveling as far as his cheeks, dusting them pink with embarrassment. (And so Hyunjin’s destruction begins.)
“Show me,” you demand.
Hyunjin tilts his screen in your direction, finally unable to quell the proud grin that he’s been biting back for so long. You nestle into his side and wrap your hands around his tricep, as if looking to hang onto something for emotional support, but nothing could've prepared you for what you see: silky dark hair pinned back by a pair of white sunglasses, facial features so ethereal that they rival the sculptures of Michelangelo himself, jewelry and suit jacket dull in comparison to his golden complexion, all rearranged into poses and expressions so confident and effortless that one would think he’s been doing this for years.
It is too much for you.
The noise that comes out of your mouth is terrifying—a mixture of a moan and a gasp except you’re being mauled by a mountain lion, or something—and Hyunjin starts to laugh, the forceful, involuntary kind that seizes his entire being.
“Are you kidding me?" You let go of his arm to grab hold of his phone with both hands, bringing it within inches of your face. "Is this real life?”
“What sound did you just make—?" Hyunjin is now sliding down the wall, barely able to get his words out. "Wait, I can’t breathe, stop—”
You ignore him, and Hyunjin genuinely thinks he’s going to dissolve when he sees that you’ve zoomed in far enough for his face, just his face, to take up the entire screen. “This can’t be real,” you mutter. “You can’t be real.”
“Shut up, you idiot—”
Hyunjin suddenly feels a pair of hands on his cheeks, and you start littering kisses all over his face, first on his forehead, then his temple, then his nose, his jaw, weaving words in between to form a sentence: you are the most beautiful man in the whole world, Hwang Hyunjin. He disappears into a new fit of laughter, his cheeks sore from how hard he’s beaming, his ears burning crimson. He feels like he might burst, he’s so happy, so in love.
You then pull away for a breather, and whatever plea for mercy Hyunjin has prepared goes forgotten when it occurs to him how close the two of you are, with you basically straddling him and wisps of your hair tickling his face. And you look stunning right now, barefaced and blushing and radiant. His laughter dissipates at last, leaving behind only a helplessly fond smile that turns his eyes to crescents.
“My prince,” you whisper, bumping your nose lightly against his. “Mine.”
He physically cannot go a second longer without kissing you, leaning in and sealing his grin against yours with the intensity of an oath. Yours. Forever.
“Thank you, baby."
(The truth is that Hyunjin destroys you first. It is only natural that you return the favor.)
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𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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krazieka2 · 7 months
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Vampire Mercedes lore doodles (and vampire Lorenz bullying)
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etherealyoungk · 6 months
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why do you love me? - kwon soonyoung
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in which you ask soonyoung why he loves you
pairing: soonyoung x reader
warnings: fluff
word count: 600
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you stare down at soonyoung, who's kneeling down, his brows furrowed in concentration as his fingers carefully work to tie your shoelaces. it's late, the cold night air making you shudder from the chill even though soonyoung's jacket is draped over your shoulders, and you pull it closer around yourself.
soonyoung looks so concentrated as he ties your shoelace, that cute pout you loved adorning his face. soonyoung was someone so loving, sweet, kind, and passionate. but sometimes you couldn't help but wonder why he loved you. what made him choose to love you? why you?
"why do you love me?", you ask softly and soonyoung's head snaps up upon hearing the question as he looks at you curiously. he thinks for a few moments and smiles at you softly. "do you really want to know?", he asks playfully and you nod your head.
"i love you because you insisted on paying for half of the meal and splitting the bill on your first date. i was so nervous but you made me feel comfortable and be myself. i love you because you held hands with me on our second date and i never told you, but i didn't sleep that night, because my heart kept racing whenever i thought back on the moment", he says, chuckling at his own silliness softly as he stands up and takes a seat next to you on the bench.
his hand gently and reassuringly holds yours, his loving gaze never leaving yours. "and i love you because you always text me good morning and goodnight. i love you because you indulge me, in my silly interests and ideas. i love you because on a hard day, you know just how to cheer me up. i love you because i can be myself with you", he says, all his words warming your heart.
"that's an awful amount of reasons to love me", you tell, holding back the smile that wants to break across your face.
"i could add one reason every day", he says confidently and you give him an 'oh really' look, which ends up with you finally giving in and smiling.
"oh and i forgot", he says, looking serious. "i love you because you're always wearing mismatched socks", he finishes, making you open your mouth to complain. "you swore you wouldn't talk about that, it's embarrassing", you whine and he chuckles.
"i just loose socks, i can't for the life of me keep one matching pair", you tell, frowning. "that's the clumsiest thing about you and i love it", he says proudly, smiling at you. it was the type of smile that made you stop in your tracks, the type of smile that melted your heart, the type of smile that was contagious and wholesome, the type of smile that warmed your heart.
you stand up, holding hands as you walk back home and soonyoung adjusts his jacket on your shoulders before you continue walking. you wrap your arm around his, leaning your weight on his body as you talk.
"don't you want to know why i love you?", you ask softly. he glances at you as you peer up at him. "only if it's more than five reasons", he says, making you snort out a chuckle. and that is how you end up listing all the reasons - all the silly, wonderful, cute, thoughtful, clumsy, adorable and endearing reasons you loved soonyoung for.
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reblogs appreciated! | taglist: @daisycheols @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @idubiluv @qaramu @n4mj00nvq @itsveronicaxxx @joshuaahong @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @strawberri-uyu @lvlystars
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andromeda3116 · 9 months
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look, i know everyone said that the new interview with the vampire show was incredible but holy shit i was not prepared for how incredible this show is
like, not only is louis interesting now, he is incredibly compelling! his once-bland internal dilemma is now given actual weight because it's not just the same old Thou Shalt Not Kill But I Am Hungry story, it's tempered through his righteous fury at how black people have been treated all these years, how many people have wronged him and laughed and expected him to laugh along, how his ties to the community that once saved him are now turning to nooses around his throat, how his family that he once provided for and relied on have now come to fear him
that, combined with his explicit homosexuality, and with lestat being the only one who seemed to accept him and love him for all that he is, and how that is both comforting and incredibly toxic and combined with sam reid's insane charisma and mania and gravity as lestat that make it completely understandable why louis would still be drawn to him in spite of everything
and how they've used the changes from the original to this one to examine how memory shifts regarding someone who was so intense and formative in your life even if they were ultimately so controlling and abusive but still left such huge gouges in your personality like knives
like
fuck
this is the best-written show i have seen in a long time like this is top-tier writing holy shit
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cowboyheyxu · 9 months
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modern!au
"you know, after i watched paddington, i'm fully convinced animals can talk. you know⎯like in toy story. but they're hiding it from us," you rambled, tapping your finger on your chin like you were in deep thought.
alhaitham flipped over on his stomach, shoving his face into his pillow, "please, go to sleep." his voice is muffled as he pleads, which prompts you to go on.
"and another thing," you continue, "does a straw have two holes? or just one? but there has to be two, right? since there are two holes in a straw."
alhaitham turns around, laying on his side as he listens to you, "you do realize you just answered your own question, right?" he mocks you.
you roll your eyes in return, threading your hands through his hair and ruffling it as revenge. you pretend not to hear him sigh out of content, "yeah. but like⎯if it has two holes, why do we only drink out of one?"
this time, alhaitham does not sigh. he groans, "it's getting too late for these kinds of questions."
you raise your eyebrows, a grin slowly appearing on your face, "oh? so i've finally frustrated the curiosity out of you,'" your sentence turned into laughter at the end.
"you have not," alhaitham countered.
"i think i have," you brush your thumb over alhaitham's eyebrow. he held your hand over his eyebrow and rubbed his thumb over it. he takes your silence as a sign that you are succumbing to exhaustion and you are finally about to fall asleep. but he was wrong.
"i just have one more question," you blurted out.
"only one?" he looked up at you with sleepy eyes. the sight made you want to giggle. alhaitham looks vulnerable. he looks adorable, you think.
"only one," you reaffirm, and rub your thumb across his eyebrow once more, "do you think we're together in every universe?"
the question caught him off guard. you never asked questions like these. most of the time, your questions range from shower thoughts to absurdities. but something seemed more intimate about this one.
alhaitham does not know if you two would be together in every universe. the universe is vast and unpredictable. there are endless possibilities and endless outcomes. it would be impossible for you two to be together in every universe.
that being said, he hopes that you two are together in most of them. alhaitham⎯though he holds disdain at your questions⎯could not imagine a life without them. he simply could not think of a world where he doesn't listen to the sound of your voice every night. he could not visualize a world where he wouldn't be a recipient of your love and your warmth.
to envision a world without you in it is like envisioning a world without it's sun. the world would be shrouded in darkness, without a single bit of light. there would be no warmth, and everything would have froze to death and died.
he looks at you while he thinks about his answer. if he had to wake up every day, and your face wasn't the first thing he saw, alhaitham knew he'd be miserable. he spends at least ten minutes of his morning admiring you. without you, what would he do?
there would be no one to brush his teeth with. there would be no one to eat dinner with. there would be no one to talk to in the middle of the night. life truly seems empty there. he pities all the other alhaithams in the vast universe that have to live without you. it must be horrific, living like that.
so, he makes sure to make this universe count.
"c'mere," he pulls you down to lay with him. you're on your side now as alhaitham pulls you closer, "i'll tell you my answer."
your eyes perk up, having been anticipating his answer the past few minutes. would he disagree or agree? does he think you two would last over different dimensions?
"really? because i think that we'll⎯" alhaitham cuts you off by placing his hand on your jawline and pressing his lips onto yours. it's slow, soft, and quite sensual. his other hand travels down to your hip, slowly rubbing circles on the bone as he continues to kiss you. you don't seem to mind or pull away, as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back.
your legs are intertwined with alhaitham's as you pull away. suddenly, you feel a lot tired than you did a few minutes ago. was this alhaitham's plan all along? did he just try to kiss you into exhaustion? whatever just happened, it would not work. you will get your answer.
you lean on his chest for one minute, and then you fall asleep.
alhaitham didn't intend for that to happen. it was just a small bonus. what he really wanted to do, was to appreciate what he had in front of him. to not take you for granted. he considers how lucky he is: he is here, in bed with you, and he gets to listen to you ramble. he is privileged enough to hear the sound of your voice, your laughter, your thoughts. he just wanted to show that off.
but now, you're entangled in his limbs, dozing off peacefully as you relax into his chest. you'll harass him more about his answer later, but for now, he only mumbles it to you.
"i hope we are together in every universe."
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chaoswarfare · 1 year
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dp x dc prompt #68
Danny’s ice core is very good for enjoying extremely cold temperatures without having to drag around a coat. It even helps cool him down in ghost form, and even in human form when there’s enough ambient ectoplasm.
The problem is that his human form has grown to completely rely on it to keep cool, so when there’s not enough ecto to use and his core has to choose between continuing keeping him semi-alive or continuing cooling him down? That’s when the problems start.
It really was just his luck that he chose to visit Metropolis and one of the more destructive rogues started tearing things apart while he was walking to the college he was scouting. And he really should have expected it when something exploded and suddenly the whole city seemed to be burning.
Clark took too long to get there. It wasn’t as much of a self deprecating thought as a fact. By the time he actually took down the criminal that started all this, three blocks were completely engulfed in flames.
His own heart stuttered when he heard a rapidly fluttering heart that kept stopping and starting erratically in the blaze, but he recovered quickly and swooped down to try and save whoever was unfortunate enough to get caught up in the destruction(he ignored how it seemed like it was already too late, and how he hadn’t seen anyone pull through with a heartbeat like that before.) and landed in the rubble that toppled into the street.
The teenager(oh god, it was a teenager, no older than Connor-) reached out and tangled a hand in his cape as soon as he was lifted off the ground. He kept trying to tug him down so Clark could hear him, and when he finally obliged, the kid took a deep breath and rasped:
“Put me in the freezer.”
…What??
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I've been thinking a lot about Leonarda's not-death ever since it happened back in April.
("What death?" you might ask, to which I say: "EXACTLY!")
Back in mid-April, Vegetta and Leonarda were mining together in a one-block wide tunnel. A mob (a Petriman) got between the two of them, and Vegetta told Leonarda to step back while he took care of it. At this point, they'd spent enough time together that he trusted Leo to listen to him.
Instead, she was killed by the same sweeping edge bug that killed her siblings.
-
Vegetta's reaction here is what's really interesting to me. Unlike most other parents on the Island, there are no shouts or tears – only a very brief "Hmm" and then silence. He very quietly takes stock of the situation, saying "Vegetta, no" and wondering aloud why Leo didn't defend herself. In chat, Foolish says "It was a bug, right? LAG" to which Vegetta slowly responds "Yes, lag. Bug." (Despite this, Foolish still asks "WHAT HAPPENED" in chat, though Vegetta doesn't reply).
Instead, he creates a slightly wider space in the tunnel where Leo's body is. He continues quietly taking stock of the situation, wondering why Leo didn't defend herself (which is what necessitated his intervention). She'd been lagging a lot that day, and he figures that must be the cause, and eventually when Leo re-appears out of thin air in the middle of the cave and collects her stuff, she confirms that the lag got to her and that's why she didn't fight the mob.
Now here's where things get interesting:
Vegetta checks the tab list. Online, it's just him, Leonarda, Roier, and Foolish. He quietly tells Leonarda "The body has already disappeared, and without a body, there is no crime. Nothing is happening. Did you die?" Leo shakes her head, and Vegetta shakes his head too, and in the kind voice he uses sometimes with Leo, he says: "I believe you have not died. Where is the body? It isn't anywhere, no mija. If it was a mistake, it was a mistake."
Leo says: "I saw Diosito (God) pa, and I was scared. God, what am I doing here?" and Vegetta laughs, telling her it's alright. Leo says "No pasa nada (don't worry / nothing happened)" and Vegetta says: "And the people who are watching us have not seen it either." To Foolish and Roier, he messages: "Secreto."
And the funniest thing about this is it worked.
Not a single person spoke about it. I saw this entire event go down live and I didn't see a WHISPER of what transpired among fans. I can't even remember if the QSMP official accounts talked about it (they sure didn't mention it in Vegetta's recap of the day). We could discuss this in meta terms of course– Leo was having known lag issues that day, Vegetta's beloved by the admins so of course they're willing to turn a blind eye rather than slap a "?" over Leonarda's life on the Eggstatistics, but meta talk isn't what I'm interested in here.
I'm interested in q!Vegetta, the weird "god-adjacent" aura he's got, and the way the universe bends to his will.
Before he took a break from the server, Rubius seemed to be a caretaker for the Eggs who died (for example, he was present when Maxo, Quackity, and Mariana & Slime said their final goodbyes to Trumpet, Tilin, and JuanaFlippa). Because of his role as an "angel" and some of his dialogue during the early days of the server, it's not a stretch to say he probably came to collect any Egg who lost a life. I can imagine he did the same when he saw Leonarda die – that is, until Vegetta said "And the people who are watching us have not seen it either." Realistically, we know Vegetta was saying this to Chat (and possibly the admins as well), but again, we're looking at this from an "in-universe" perspective.
I wonder if Vegetta was aware of Rubius' role, and this was his way of telling Rubius "No. I won't allow that to happen." We know Rubius has a soft-spot for Vegetta (and we also know that Rubius was cast out of heaven several months later) so it makes me wonder if these two instances are connected.
Either way, this isn't the first time the laws of the QSMP universe have bent for Vegetta, and I certainly don't think it'll be the last.
Rubius or no, Leo didn't die that day.
Vegetta made sure of it.
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civetfish · 7 months
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Nerd-to-nerd communication
Something super pointless and self-indulgent I've had on the backburner for a while. I love trying to make the pieces they gave us fit together!
Al-AN and Robin would absolutely bond over learning about each other's biology. I could talk about this forever but I'll get into all of the headcanons I have for these two in another post eventually
Below the cut is another version with some extra bits and pieces and the transcription
Transcript :
Architect Anatomy A. Architect "Brain" - Doesn't "store" information so much as allow for easy communication with the network B. Brainstem - connects the information received to the central nervous/circulatory system C. "Heart" - Circulatory system pumps the bioluminescent fluid to other organ systems and surface veins. Each node connects to a vast vasculature network D. "Kidneys" - Organs that filter the bioluminescent "blood" and other bodily fluids, absorbing and distributing collected material E. Nerve Center - Receives raw sensory data and filters it. Filtering can be unconscious or intentional
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F. "Respiratory" Tract - Intakes gases or liquids and filters out material for use. Disposes of waste on exhale. Provides cooling to internal systems
The respiratory tract functions less like a set of lungs and more akin to a computer's cooling system, with the ability to absorb material from the environment to use in other parts of the body. It also would likely help the architect's body analyze the environment it is currently exposed to on a molecular level. It is also truly unidirectional, with the intake vents near the "collarbone" and the exhaust vents on both sides of the abdomen
The architect organ cache in-game felt like it was definitely not a complete model of the internal organs, so I wanted to come up with something to fill some more space. I also just really liked the idea of Al-An being capable of something similar to breathing, without having a respiratory system in the traditional sense. Feel free to use any of this in your own headcanons if you would like :)
BONUS - a gif of all the layers!
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mayasaura · 1 year
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Going into Alecto, I think it's important to expect that the series won't conclude with a clear lesson. Either about morality—what makes a good person, evil getting their just desserts, ect—or a thesis on decolonization. It's not that kind of story.
Deep down, this series is two drunk girls bearing their souls in a dark corner of the bar. An hours-long conversation that wheels wildly through pop culture, past trauma, theoretical physics, dreams and aspirations, global warming, hairstyling, friends, family, gender, personal insecurities, world history, favorite foods. It has a lot to say, and a lot of it profound, but it's not trying to teach anything. At the end of the night, the point was how fucking cool that girl was, and the potent electric potential for something lgbt to happen
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